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VOL. VII.
K fair-faced woman found a whitened
skull
Amid a rained garden’s tangled bed.
She placed it on a rose-twined pedestal
And thus to it she said:
“Grim relic of some fur-forgotten time,
? Whose flesh hath blossomed in such fnir
I decuy, tell, in what ‘ sweet
pray thee summer
t clime
* Dost thou reside to-day?
»
THE FACE IN THE
JACK, I really
don’t think I can
'if. bear robe where that ward¬ it is,
\V with the long glass
{Si just opposite my
, bed. I know I
Sgx ehall have night¬
mare. Do you
y;-y* ■ think it could be
-
"IP 5 moved?”
I hesitated and
murmured some¬
cr thing about the
trouble of having the furniture moved
a hotel, etc., while handing my
■wife the English letter I had brought
upstairs for her. She had and beeu lying
down after our journey, now sat
tip on the bed to utter the above re¬
marks about the wardrobe. She was
very pretty, that little wife of mine,
with her curly, tousled head, aud the
face that sleep had flushed to a soft
rosy-pink—very pretty, and so ludi
crouslv, ludicrously young to look at.
lief letter did not occupy her long.
She looked at me again.
“Jack, darling, you will have that
wardrobe moved, won’t you? If I
were to wake in the night and see my
own face in it, I should bo horribly
frightened. Do have it moved, Jack,
dear!” She knew perfectly well, lit¬
tle witch, that if she spoke to me like
that, and looked at me pleadingly out
of her pretty eyes, she would get; ex¬
actly what she wauted—-and, of
course, she did this time. The ward¬
robe, which had beeu placed precise¬
ly opposite one of the two beds that
jutted out from the wall between the
door'and window, was now moved to
the corner near the window itself, so
that,-although from the beds we could
still catch a glimpse of the glass, we
could see nothing reflected iu it.
were staying in a big, pleasant
hotel, the locality of which matters
little. We found many pleasant folk
among our fellow-guests, and we had
really a delightful evening, spent
chiefly in sitting upon the terrace
which overlooked the very lovely
garden of the hotel. The delicious
scents of the many flowering shrubs
filled the air with exquisite fragrance;
the fresh breeze blowing softly round
us seemed to come straight from the
great range of mountains along the
horizon, giant shapes, dim and misty,
outlined against the pale green of the
evening sky, where the stars were
coning out one by one.
It must have been very late before
we reluctantly dragged ourselves in¬
doors, and went up to our room. Just
before putting out the light, I opened
the Venetians outside our window to
breathe the heavenly air once more.
It was a still, starry night. The
garden below me was quite dark, and
the dim mountain shapes could no
longer be seen. The nightingales in
the bushes sang and sang as if they
could never sing enough, and to th6
music of their song, with a deep
undercurrent of the bull-frogs’ em¬
phatic voices, I fell asleep.
I slept the sleep'of the just, as I
usually do, aud, I should think, must
have been asleep for some time,
when, suddenly, a flash of light be¬
fore my eyes woke me. My first im¬
pression was that it must be light¬
ning; my next, that my wife had
turned on the electric light over our
heads. But, as I woke up fully, I
realized that the room was dark;
from the bed next to mine I could
hear quiet breathing, showing, be¬
yond a doubt, that my wife was
asleep.
But—but— I sat up in bed and
for the long glass in the cup
which had been moved that
was entirely lighted up.
As I have said, this cupboard now
stood nearer to the window than it
had done before, and, though it was
not opposite my bed, tbe light upon
the glass had evidently flashed into
my eyes and awoke me. But where
in the name of fortune had the light
come from?” I rubbed my eyes, I
leant a little out of bed, as I tried to
persuade myself that some light from
outside must be reflected in the glass,
though I knew perfectly well that
this was impossible, for not only were
the Venetians closed, hut the curtains
inside tbe room were also drawn.
Then I tried to think that the light
came opening through the keyhole of a room
into ours; but this was a still
inore fallacious argument, for the door
in question was on the farther side of
my wife’s bed, and nothing could by
any means have been reflected from it
into that glass.
“Well,” I thought, “I am the vie
tim of a most extraordinary optical
delusion!” For, whilst I sat up in
bed and started at it, that glass re
jgiaifted steadily lighted upl
THE QUES TION ER.
“And, having lived, unfold life’s mys
tory, and
And. having loved, reveal the how,
why.
And, being dead, unveil eternity,
And all it means to die.”
There came no whisper from the lips of
death.
The hollow eyes stared at her vacantly:
Perhaps it had forgotten love, and breath,
Perhaps—eternity! Life.
—Albert Bigelow Paine, in
s “I shall get up and see |f it J is some
tiling outside the window.” I mut¬
tered; bed. I and, drew creeping back ver^j/Softly Jfsiijtams out and of
the
geutly opened the ven Every
thing in the garden J&as daik. ;^absolutely
still, and pitch, pitdtt.’ Not a
sign was to be seen iff any direction
of a light of any sort or kind, an do wen
the stars were blotted out by great
black clouds. I turned back toward
the room. It, too, was entirely gta>ssj
—with the exception of the
which was still brilliantly; lighted
from top to bottom.
But, all at once, I noticed an ex¬
traordinary circumstance. Tbe ‘glass
diH not reflect the stove and chair
winch were the only objects now in
front of it, neither did I see myself
mirrored in it. On the contrary, I
saw in it only a bed and in the bed lay
a form—a woman’s form. I could see
quite plainly how her black hair was
tossed about on the pillow iu curly
disorder.
“It seems queer,” I said to myself,
with, I must confess, a very weird and
uneasy sensation; “deuced queer!”
I should like to have done some¬
thing—turned on the light, rung a
bell, or, in fact, done anything but
what I did do, stand there rooted to’
the spot, with fascinated eyes fixed on
that glass.
■Where the dickens did that bed
come from? And who was the woman
iu it? It was not my wife, that I could
swear, for her hair was fair and fluffy,
and that woman’s was blaek as night.
Then, as I watehed my hair literally
stood on end with horror. I believe
I was shaking with fright, for I saw
that figure sit bolt upright in bed, a
look of such wild terror in her face as
I shall never forget—never to my
dying day. Her eyes fixed on some¬
thing I could not see, grew strained
and staring, in a perfect agony of fear
and horror. I saw her open her mouth
as though to say something—to cry
out—I thought it was. I saw the flush
of sleep fade from her cheeks, leaving
an ashy whiteness in its place. Then
she threw out her hands with a pas¬
sionately pleading gesture toward
something that was coming to her—a
very agony of appeal iu her every
movement.
Aud at that moment there came
into the blaze of light a tall man’s fig¬
ure. He seemed to come from the
end of the bed, as though he had en¬
tered the room by a door immediately
opposite to it. (In a flash of recollec¬
tion I remembered a third door in our
room, opening directly opposite my
wife’s bed.) I could uot see the man’s
face; he was dressed in some sort of a
dressing gown, and in his uplifted
hand he held a knife. He paid not
the slightest heed to the agonized ges¬
tures of the woman. He simply ad¬
vanced to the head of the bed with
great strides. The woman crouched
badk against the pillows, her poor lit¬
tle hands pitifully heating again st his
shoulder, but he seemed utterly re¬
gardless of her terror or of her ap¬
peals. He pressed her back—farther,
farther back against the pillows, and
I saw her white, upturned face gleam
in the flashing light. I could see the
fearful, deadly terror in her dark eyes
as suddenly he raised the great knife
in one hand, holding the other over
her mouth—to stop her screaming,
I suppose.
But he did not, as I expected,
plunge the knife deep into her heart.
No, he lifted the pillow, like another
Othello, and pressed it down, down
upon her, till I felt as if I myself was
being suffocated. Then he lifted it
up again, and laid her down, and as he
did so and turned away, laying the
knife beside her on the bed, I saw his
face—a dark, evil, devil’s face. It
seemed to glower at me out of the
brilliantly lighted glass just for a sec¬
ond, aud then I saw his every feature
—the black, evil eyes, the hard
mouth, the low forehead, over which
a straight look of hair fell. I saw
how he lifted his hand to push the
hair out of his eyes—and then, all at
once, the light faded out of the glass
and I could see no more,
The room was in darkness, and,
sick with horror, shivering with a hor
rible dread, I crept into bed again. I
did not sleep another wink. I could
only lie and puzzle over the gruesome
thing I had seen, and speculate over
and over again as to its cause and ob
ject. But I arrived at no solution,
and never in my life have I been so
thankful as I was that morning to see
the gray dawn steal through the ve
netians and to hear the birds calling
to each other in the garden below.
My wife remarked on my appear
aiice, which was certainly no» alto
gether festive. Avoiding as best I
could my wife’s anxious questions* I
‘To thine own self be true,and it will follow, as night the day, thou cans’t not then be false to any man.”
LINCOBNTON, GA.. THUlfsDAY, SEPTEMBER 14,1899.
dressed hurriedly, being above all
things anxious that she should never,
know of the horror I had seen in that
hateful glass. I went downstairs as
soon as I could, and sought out the
owner of the hotel.
He was not afmaster of my lan¬
guage, but, fortunately, I am familiar
with his, and I asked him quietly, but
with a good deal of lordly severity, to
explain my extraordinary experience
of the previoi^qight. jfgjant
I think he at first to deny all
»he knowledge had turned «f'l%i^phenomenon; V iiftly pale at but al
my
Mmously kuew
that was te And, with a little
more upologiffigst-humbly I got it out of him.
He and pro
-foundly for having pat us into that
room; but, as he explained, the hotel
waS so full that it was-unavoidable.
He then went on to tell me that,
some time before, an Italian lady and
g#tleman, husband and wife, had oc
cupied the room we had slept in,
the next one to it, whose door was op
posite to my wife’s bed. On the
morning after their arrival the hus
band had roused the whole hotel, de
daring wildly that Lis wife had been,
murdered - which had, indeed,
proved to be the case. There lay the
lady, stone dead, a knife beside her
on the bed-one of the hotel knives,
my’host explained in an injured voice
-and her husband nearly mad with
grief and horror. But ’the
thing was that, .though the knife lay
there, no sign was visible of its having
been used. The poor lddy had evi
dently been suffocated. The hus
band, who had slept in the room
to his wife’s said that the door be
tween their rooms had been open all
niglit, bufr’he swore lie liad beard no
sound. How the murderer had ceme,
where he had vanished to, and above
all, why he had murdered the poor,
' innocent lady, ' remained profound ’
mysteries
“Do vou mean that the murderer is
,'still at large?” I asked the hotel-
1 >-i
p
He nodded.
“Well, T could identify him any
where,” I said, sharply.
The man looked at me keenly.
“You saw, sir-you saw?” he stain
mered #
“I saw the whole thing,'from infetnal glass,” be
ginning to end, in that
I replied; “the whole ghastly per
formauce. Has no one ever seen it
before?”
Mine host crossed himself rapidly,
“It has been seen before,” he an
swered; “but no one has ever seen it
all. The lighted glass-yes-and a
lady, the lady m the bed-and a man
who enters. But, then-no one has
ever dared to stay to face all the hor
ror through. No one ever saw the
man’s face. They bave all fainted or
run away-or what not. You saw his
face, sir?” he ended, incredulously.
“As plainly as I see yours,” I said,
“If ever I see it in real life I will let
you know.
We movod our room that night, on
some plea I gave my wife—I forget
now what it was-and a few days
later we left the place, and I must
confess, honestly, I was not sorry to
8°’
But fate . works , strangely , sometimes. ..
Six months later, my wife was con
valesceut after a severe illness, and
the doctors insisted on my taking her
to this very place again. I suggested
many other localities. But, no; there
she must go, and nowhere else, bo,
back we went, and found it very
charnung, even 111 winter; steeped in
sunshine, fresh and sweet, with clear,
dry air and deep-blue sky.
We had been there a week, and my
wife and I were sitting at our small
table in the great dining-room waiting
for lunch, when the door behind us
and someone came in.
“Oh what a hateful-looking man!
my wife exclaimed, and I saw hei
shudder. I glanced around, and, by
Jove! I shuddered myself, for, wah
ing down that dining-room, with a
brazen, jaunty air, was the very man
whom I had seen in the glass murder
ing the poor la dy. Without a word,
I bolted out of the room and breath
lessly rushed to the bureau, where the
master of the house looked at me as it
I were a lunatic.
“The man is here! I said, as soon
aS ,^.S-? Vlld
“What man?” he asked iTi bewildered. -i 7 7
“The man who murdered the lady
in that room where the glass is.
Come quickly; I will show him to
I think he still thought me mad,
but he reluctantly followed me to the
dining-room door, and I pointed cau¬
tiously down the long room to a table
at the other end, where the gentle¬
man in question was placidly begin¬
ning his soup.
“There,” I said; “there he is, sit¬
ting at the table!”
“But, no, sir, no!” gasped my COlB
panion; “yon are mistaken, It is
impossible; that is the lady’s husband.
He comes here every year to lay
flowers on her grave.”
“Oh, does he?” I answered, sav
agely; “then the more devil he! That
is the mail who murdered her. I
swear it!” *
And he was the man.
Other little bits of evidence cropped
up, and in the end the miserable crea¬
ture confessed to tbe deed. It was
some story of fiendish and impossible
jealousy, and of awful* ungovernable
tempej*; but the details have escaped
my memory.
One curious fact remains, or,
perhaps, two facts. One is that from
The day the villain confessed his deed
the ghastly tragedy in the glass was
;never again enacted. The other is
that, from that day to this, I have
never either cared or dared i o sleep
in a room where a long glass faced my
bed.—The Sketch.
THE WILDER FILIPINOS.
jjVIore interesting Than Trib%, Partially Civ¬
ilized
Civilization _. assuredly ,, , ks
wor won
dera “ ® community, hut it often ren
g” f at 8 * least 6 community less picturesque, less interesting, than be
ioxe - That was what Professor Wor
«f. st er ’ who Tinted Palawan, of the
^rhppine , Islands thought when he
g^Wed the wi d Tagbanuas with
j tual f P^ml y civilized brethren. The
der P eo P l0 were to hlin the more
J11 ,pf e n ®’
rireir . small ,, village houses of ham¬
' , J ° & were P e '’ c iu3 UK * tdle a lr *
f W h f“ the inhabitants , wanted to write .
f , lett f> they took fresh joints of barn
fe° ^ 0 letter ol ' note-paper, vertical and columns, scratched like
m
fne Chinese. They had a simple sylla-
1111 alphabet in common use, pointing,
Professor Worcester s opinion, to a
(time when they possessed a higher
cl ^. lzatlon at P r ® 8ent *
lhese peculiar people were not with
a { ° rm of government. The affairs
each community was administered
b.ya council of old men who dispensed
l ustlee aocordmg to tradition and their
°' 7 ” sense of what was right,
r P ia J- 0 ^’. e inferred taat a man
, /^bought before bis
twice accusing
neighbors of a grave offence, for the
method of judging was something of
an ordeal, as well to accuser as to ac
c, ised. When any one was charged with
a serious crime, the old men conducted
him and his accuser to some deep
f and there, in the presence of re
iatives and friends, caused them to
dive b « ueat h tka wa | er ’ who re '
mained under , the longest was ac
c0 “ ted ta bave s P obel 1 the
Th° religious beliefs f of f these m- .
habitants , of the Philippines w;ere as
peculiar as their i3efls about justice.
As to a future life, they considered
that state to he the privilege of the
good. The toad, they believed were
after death, and vhen found
^uuty, were pitched into a nre and
completely consumed.
The Y had tbelr theory of evolution
also, , only , in their . ease the man had
been ev oIved fr0 “ the monkey,
but the monkey , from the man When
a « kea wb y the monkey looked so much
,ke a man > tlle y sald ^ "’ as becauae
be was ° ncs a ,“ an ’ but be was very
az y, and would not plant vice. Then
bis companion threw a stick at him,
whereupon he assumed his present
stete, the stick becoming, his tail.
j:al . Iier Scouts Were Originally Hunters.
The earlier scouts, like Kit Carson
, m q jq m Bridger, were originally
j ra pp ers an q hunters, born and reared
iQ Miasouri> Tennessee and Kentucky,
j la( j a f 0I)( ] nesg f or adventure,
qpjjgy jjaj p US b e d their way across the
border of civilization of those days
and had the plains of Kan
s Nebraska and Texas for big game
and exoitement . -fhe Mexican war
; n ig48 and the movement of troops
^] iroll gi 1 Texas and along the Bio
Q ran( j e brought scouting into the
8ervice . When the era of ox
t eams an d traips of excited gold-seek
era headed toward Ca i ifornia begall in
1849 there wa8 a great demaad for
scouts at very profitable wages. Hun
dredg Q f y 0U ng men with a smattering
o{ lains lif an exp ertness in fire
, arms flnd a Jittle knowledge of In
^j ans » ways, became professional
scouts. No emigrant train would
[eave gt Jo8eph; Mo-> or Le aveu
w01 q bi Kan., on its journey of four or
g y0 j^^^s to the Eaoific Ocean,
without au accompanying scout or
;de for Ieast a part Q f the way.
jj le c h a in of army garrisons was
ex t en( j e( } ou t up on the plains the War
j) e p ar t men t employed more and more
sc01] q a £ or troops, and scouting be
came & gort of science of tbe pIains iu
wb ioh there was competition in expert
ness. During the Apache and Sioux
war8 in 1877> 1878 and 1879 the Gov
ernment had about 1200 scouts ou its
army payro 7 i ls . Then the Indians,
,k • a white man’s
v 0 had a(lopte ways,
beca me scouts, and the pursuit of the
white m&n , vaned f ast .-Chicago
' b>ecold *
.Locusts as Food.
In Morocco entire wagonloads of lo¬
custs are brought to the market in Fez,
because they form a regular article of
food for the Moors who inhabit this
part of North Africa. Here, also, the
locusts are eaten in every style,
pickled, salted, simply dried, smoked,
or in any other possible way, except
raw. The natives ou the northern
coast of Africa prefer locusts to
pigeons, and they eat from two hun¬
dred to three hundred at a sitting.
They remove head, wings and legs,
boil them for half an hour in water,
then add salt and pepper, and fry them
in vinegar. In a similar way locusts
and are prepared Preserved at other points in Africa pickle
Asia. in salt
they form a staple article of commerce.
Locusts in Africa are also compressed,
when fresh, in barrels, and are then
dished out like butter at meal _tim.es.
—Chicago Tribune.
EVOLUTION.
*‘A scientist announces that the human
race is an evolution from the vegetable.”
11 “ Sclence tell *> ’ Us yer *
In certain folks the influence of marked
heredity.
Who can deny, tf he shall try to reason out
The their heads,
dads of many festive dudes once d ,yolt
in cabbage-beds?
And . ,, then what . canniDals ,,, _, they are down ,
East in Boston town,
Who eat their own relations cooked and
served with bread that’s brown!
rn beTind T Vle<l80 °* tUe tMts
tUesceues
Disputes that they of Boston are dcseen led
all from beaus.
And, oh, the politician! How he shows
his ancestry
In every secret ileal he makes that knows
no honesty!
Just watch him ns lie walks along so
proudly on the street.
And say if there are lackiug signs that lie’s
a perfect beet!
The lover, too, so soft-eyed, with the ways
of turtle (loves,
Tfhom all the world smiles sweetly on,
whom everybody loves—
’Tis clear that he’s the offspring of that
sweet and unabashed
Original potato that in ancient days was
mashed.
But you, O Phyllis darling, I cannot be
lievo that you
Were ever in the garden patch where
Your fathers were nofveg^tahles, for every
body knows
That you’re the fair descendant of some
sweet and blooming rose.
PITH AND POINT.
Chollie—“It costs me about S-IOOft
a year to live.” Dollie—“What a
waste of money!”—Yonkers States¬
man.
“I don't like that cat any more,”
said a four-year-old child. “It’s got
splinters in its feet!”—The Sheltering
Arms.
“Mamma,” inquired Ethel, looking
rather puzzled, “if little children
have calves in their legs, do grown
up people have cows in theirs?”
Little Sister—“Don’t you know
why they turn ‘bV one way and
‘dV the other way?” Little Brother
(dolefully)—“Just to puzzle little
boys learning their letters!” -Puck.
Instructor— . . What is the differ
ence between the positive and uega
tive electricity?” Student—“It is pos¬
itive when it it turned on and nega¬
tive when it is turned off.’’—-Indian¬
apolis Journal.
Mrs. Blimm—“The Dobtens at
last have a girl they hope to keep.”
Mrs. Gimp—“Absurd! Where is suen
a girl to be found?” Mrs, Blimm —
“She was born to them yesterday.”—
Philadelphia North American.
Doctor—“The patient is beset with
the idea that the land, as far as he
can see, belongs to him.” Judge—
“I wouldn’t call that insanity. It is
merely incipient political ambition.”
—Philadelphia North American.
Examiner—“Want to enlist as an
army nurse, eh? Had any experience
with the sick and wounded?” Fair
Applicant—“I’ve four brothers, every
one of ’em a scorcher, and pa shaves
himself with a safety razor.”—Tid
Bits.
“Did the court convict that auto¬
mobile owner of going at an illegal
rate of speed?” “Yes; the witness
had never ridden in an auto-mobile
before and he testified that it went at
the rate of one thousand miles an
hour.”
Jimmy—“Won’t your mother be
mad when she sees how you tore your
clothes?” Tommy—“I guess not so
very. Ma’ll have lots of fun huntin’
up cloth to match an’ puttin’ a patch
so people can hardly notice it.”—*
Puck.
“Oh, Harry,” said Mrs. McBride to
her husband, as she caught sight of a
card in a jeweler’s window, “let’s go
in and look at those solid gold babies’
rings. ” “But, my dear,” protested
Mr. McBride, “ours is not a solid
baby.”—Harper’s Bazar.
A little three year-old girl went to
a children’s party. On her return
she said to her parents; “At the
party a little girl fell oil' a chair. All
the other girls laughed, but I didn’t.”
*. I Well, why didn’t you laugh?”
“’Cause I was the one that fell off!”
Where the Nutmeg is Found.
The nutmeg is the kernel of the
fruit of an evergreen tree found wild
in the Banda Islands and cultivated in
such hot countries as Sinapore,
Brazil and the West Indies, The
trees grow best in warm, moist soils,
and yield fruit in eight years after
sowing and will bear fruit for sixty
years or even longer.
The ripe fruit is about two inches in
diameter, of a rounded pear-shape.
When mature jt splits into halves, ex¬
posing the aril surrounding a single
seed. The aril is stripped off and
dried. This becomes the mace of
commerce. The seed consists of a
hard shell enclosing a kernel which is
the nutmeg as we buy it. The nuts
when ripe are carefully dried, the
shells broken, the kernels picked out
and sorted according to size.
An Unst.alable Umbrella.
A new unstealable umbrella has
been patented in Paris. When you
place your gamp in the stand, you
unscrew the handle and drop that in¬
to your pocket; by so doing you lock
the ribs together so that the umbrella
cannot be opened until the handle is
NO. 15.
SPORT FOR THE MULE.
He Kept « Whole Regiment A-wrt*
Down in (aba,
The following interesting story !»
told by G. A. llioiupson, company R,
First Illinois Regiment:
"Speaking of mules.” said the dough
hoy. "did you ever notice the insane
desire a mule has to step on sotne
body? Well, sir, when a mule sees a
!ot ot . People , asleep , on the , ground , , he
can no more help making a run for;
them than a police man rail help going
to sleep. When ! was with the First
1,1 ('nbil we ir/:uif» a n.glit uiiuvii froio
Sibooey for tin* front#- Y\V landed at
S1, » ft r’ 8 r * rs :lt «** “*
and camped oil the wet ground.
“We had .fust got nic l.v fixed for
sleep when >i:e of the mules remeta
,,,,,, beved that lie hail , not stepped , ou msy
one for some time and started through
otir line on the jump. He upset the
gun stacks for six feet on each side of
him and stepped on every one in fight.
Heads, faces and legs were ail file
same to Him and he, made a bigger
row in a short time than a dynamite
cracker would in a Sunday school con
vention.
“He stepped on everybody in the.
company hut me, and I was up in the
air when he went by. The rest of tliO
we were kept awake by the
guard trying to talk that mule out of
the notion of doing it all over again,
You bet a mule ain't happy unless he
is using his feet for some deviltry.”-
Chicago News.
The Indian Is Still In If.
“The Indian is by no means an ex¬
tinct portion of civilization.” explain
e <j nn Indian bureau official, “as the
coming census will very clearly deoi
onstrate. Indeed, instead of running
out, tlie last ten years will show that
he has got almost as good a hold ©a
life as the most favored of onr people.
The poems regretting his passing away
will have to be stored for some years,
The Indian of late years has been gen
erally engaged in minding his owis
business. He is not much improved
morally from what he was. but be has
not fallen behind .10 any noticeable ex
tent. It, is a case of the survival of
the fittest, and while eventually the
Indian will have to go he is not gath
ering up his traps and getting ready
to start as yet. Those who.regard the
Indian as a Scattered hi'-tftw-fey mce. existing
in sum!! eamps West, will;.■
he considerably informed when I fan
tell them that there is today :t record
of 250,000 Indians in the Western
States. There are many kinds there.
The Choctaws number over 15 , 000 $;
the Creeks even more; the SeinVaoScs
about 3,500; Cherokivs about .XhOOOp
Chickasaws about -S.ijOO. 1 here are
over 10,000 Indians in the Six Nations
of New York State alone. The
Is still in it. and will be in it for many
years yet. and 1 would not he snr
prised if the coming census will show
that there are over 300,000 of them.®
-Washington Star. A
O.V
A Very Sanitary If erase.
Japan has long rejoiced in eartts
quake proof houses, and now we hear
of an abode in Yokohama which pos¬
sesses the unique distinction of being
microbe proof. A writer in Cham¬
bers’s Journal says it is supposed *9
have been erected by an eminent
man bacteriologist, who hopes by
aid to avoid all the ills to which
man flesh is heir so far as they ar
due to zymotic causes, The ho us :
is built of glass bricks, so that there
Is no need for windows, and the doors,
when closed are perfectly air tight
Ventilation is brought about by air
being forced into the building through
cotton wool filters, and in case this
treatment does not rob it of all its
bacteria, the air is further driven
against glycerine-coated plates of
glass.
Of course when the door of this
strange domicile is opened to admit
visitors armies of air-borne microbes
must come in too; but the sunlight
which plays around tin* rooms will
soon kill off these
GEORGIA RAILROAD.
—A. IV X>—
Connections,
___ Sol
For In{orm6tion a9 to Routes,
—uleB and Rates, Riib—
Passenger and Freight
Write to either of the undersigned.
Yon will receive prompt reply nt
information, - Wa
reliable
JOE. W. WHITE, A. G. JAC
T. P. A. G. P. A.
Augusta, Ga
8. W. WILKES, H. K. NICHOLSO
A, _
0. F. & P. A. G.
Atlanta. Athens,
W. W. HARDWIOK, 8. E. MAGUCf
S. A. 0. F. A.
Macon.
M. B. HUDSON, F. W. COWVOk
8. F. A. a F. k p. A.
JHIUdarerllla, “m