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13 WILL PROPEL
LARGEST ZEPPELIN
turns Start Drive for
to Complete It,
,e<iricfeshafeB^®«rinanyj—Work is
isslng favct.-bly on the world’s
t Sfeppelin-type dirigible, half
a* large as;® 16 Los Angeles and,
®S to test the feasibility’, of
Atlantic passenger and packet
dirigible will be the first to be
iled by gas instead of a liquid
,.ua epoch-making inventioh cred
it .the Zeppelin works chemist,
;<ia- Lempertz.
i-ai be named the “L. Z. 127.”
ago Eckener, commander of the
., ngeles on the flight from Fried-
; «fen to Lakehurst in October,
;s in charge of the construction.
:r giant will .cost approximately
000, being raised by popular
. iption.
■ for Eckener said the hydrogen
t of the gas bag will be 3,800,-
;bic feet, exceeding that of the
.ngeles by 1,400,000 cubic feet.
i be slightly longer than the Los',
is and propelled by five 420-
power Maybach .motors,
gas fuel, the exact composition
■ hich remains secret, Doctor
ar said, is more efiiefent than
ie or ben?ol and will simplify
.tlon by eliminating .difficulties
from carrying heavy loads of
fuel and from manipulating the
g content or ballast to make up
A consumption.
dirigible is expected to beicom-
about August, 1927, though less
half the cost has been raised,
ewed patriotic effort to raise the
nder of the money is to be made
Jinmer.
The Ties That
Bind
By DOROTHY WEST
I?®, (Copyright.)
E ATERS- night he would traverse the
Ip
' Battles Seal to
Save Life of Pet Doji
' v ^®rb. The almost boundless
oa of a boy for his pet dog,
i d with a fight for life between
eg and a young seal that almost
ed la the drowning of both dog
aster, furnished, the material for
lling afternoon for Nelson Hoeft,
ea-year-old student, and his dog
y Kid.
jity Kid an(| his young master
a romp along Baker’s beach,
off shore near some rocks a
seal was disporting itself, and
• v Kid made for the seal. With
ful yelp he swung onto, the seal’s
k ard flipper.
re was a series of quick canine
«>f paih, then the seal and dog
eared. In a moinent the dog’s
appeared above water and he
1 struggling toward the beach,
pal had fastened its teeth in his
; 'eg.
on plunged in gthq surf, armed
i short stick. Unmindful of the
scratches he received as Dig-
Cld’s paws Struck him while
ling to shake the seal, off, Nel-
npped one .arm around the dog
tli the stick reached down and
a quick - lunge that broke the
bold.
in was sixty yards 'from shore
ing rapidly. He,was unable to
t, but he refused to let go his
; le called for help. .
' Bernstein and Louis Texter,
members of Company L, Thir-
-nfahtry. were swimming at the
end of Baker’s beach. They
the cries and in a moment 'had
fp and dbg ashore.
sf That Opened’ Way
;' a iO Florida, -1505; Back
$ork.,-—The-sword that led the.
’ .civilization, into Florida came.
0 America recently, after an
* of more than three centuries,
nvOrd is that carried by'Pedro
'ey- de Aviles,’ Spanish mariner,
ended St. Augustine in 1565. ' It
vried-■ clown .a gangplank from
' Manuel Arnus by Cesar' de
ga, royal commissioner gen
ic i. Spain, to the Sesquicenten,-
.’libiUon at Philadelphia. ‘ The
•. with, a blade $y 2 feet long,
' n in| the Naval [ museum at
since its owner died. '„
the sword came a collection
tries and Spanish'.,art, valued i
■00,000, alt to be exhibited ini
dalnsian pavilion': at the ses-
ennial. , >
’s Right to Fly-
Over Farm Upheld
/in. Neb.—A temporary injunc-
•'prevent an aircraft corpora-
ilanes from flying over the
s of Emil Glatt, whose farm
the flying fiqld, has been de?
• District Judge Stewart.
■Udltion-rtO the injunction Glatt 1
$10,000 damages. He com-
I that noise of the , airplane
frightened his chickens, dis-
his rest, produced nervousness
m detrimental Jo his general
ten by a Rattler,
Shoots Into Wound
i ramie, Wyo.—The 1 rattle-
•e bite antidote employed by
i iam Ringleburg, sheep hej-d-
s a little rough, but efflea-
i. When he wqs bitten, he
j no knife with which te
l the wound, so he sucked
wound* and then flrdd &
k cartridge into it A paes-
motorist brought him la a
dtal, wher#b« is recovering.
length of the garden to the dis
tant, lofty oak and stare. down,*’fpr."a
brief arid bitter moment,the grave
’Of his mother. ( 'And* inevitably ihe
wbuld stoop to pluck a •long-stemmed
flower and twine it about his wrist.
.There was something terribly brutais
about it; i As mocking reassurance of
a deathbed promise.
He hated the valley. He hated the
splendid-stretch of land that for gen
erations had belonged to the family,
riotous, neglected now save for a
small - patch of garden that supplied
his daily needs.
H$ had chained himself by a death
bed promise to the rolling, far-reaching
acres a sentimental mother loved. He
had been too young and too awfully
sorry to foresee the droning “years.
He had wanted, with youthful pity, to
make her last moments happy. And
so . he had promised, : eagerly, forever
to live in the valley.
And then there had been her weak
voice calling Martha; the young Mar
tha kneeling beside her with tears
in her eyes. And suddenly she had
joined their hands, and there had been
Something about “my son, my best
friend’s motherless child,” and he had'
found himself pledged to Martha, star
ing iqto- her tear-wet, adolescent eyes.
He had always wanted to write.
From earliest youth he had scribbled
on any and every scrap of paper. He
felt, perhaps wrongly, that he had a
splendid gift to give to the world.
And he lived in that future hour of
recognition.
. He had never been outside the val
ley. He had never seen beyond his
narrow community. There had been
little expansion of, his own*soul. And
he had the happy faculty to realize
his restriction. He was wedged In by
stupid conventionalities. He 'had, he
knew too poignantly, little to write
about
He had held tenaciously to" his
dream of ultimate freedom. He had
heavily mortgaged the land. He knew,
with almost mad complacence, that
within a few years he would lose the
far-stretching acres. And then would
begin his pilgrimage to the world.
The world he thirsted for, and from
whose living pages he would tran
scribe.
Tonight he walked slowly back to
the house. He began to hope that
Martha had' gone to bed. There was
something about her of late that dis
turbed him. She was pale and un«
happy and ailing. And wistful, too.
And he would raise his head suddenly
to find her sad eyes intent on his face
as if there were something she wanted
to tell him. It annoyed him, because
it frightened him. He felt, somehow,
responsible.
She had not gone to bed. She was
sitting before the empty hearth, star
ing unseelngly at the darkened bricks.
She did not turn to look at him. She
held] out her.hand.
He went slowly to her with calm in
difference.
She was-only a child, and she knew,
vaguely, that she had never really
pleased hjm. She had so little to give
him, .and^now she. felt that her sole
gift wouldibe unwanted.
He looked down at her, not unkind
ly, and put a gentle hand on her shoul
der. '
“I’ve been meaning to tell you,” she
- said, with difficulty, “the doctor—” >.
She /faltered. .HIis hand fell away.
He\Was suddenly White and 1 drawn?
« “No,”'he said quietly, “no.”
g She was terror-stricken. “Butwby?”
> “JS/e’ve /only [ the barest, necessities.
There’s hardly.enough for two.”’ '
She caught, her one shred of cour
age. . She was [fighting. for something
bigger I Inin herself. Something .potent
within, her. . She was fighting, - with
terrible strength, for life: 8.
“It’s because we’ve, done nothing;
either of us, about the. farm. We’Ve
let it go to. ruin. We’ve lived our days
m , laziness. Idled die. hours. ... Why,
ours-' is the finest land for Utiles, -We
must,” she ended with quiet finality,
“make it a paying farm, for
child.” '
He did not answer Iter. JKe saw,
very vividly, tlje approaching days:
He would awaken at six to the smell
of fried food and, Martha’s shrill yofte. 1
Then, a long, hard morning in the
-field) ’and dinner.* The field again,
dragging, dulling holtrs, then merciful
dusk, and supper. And when he could
get-out his paper and. pen, they would
dance before his eyes, and "the/only
alternative, of Course, would be bed.
Apathy d\tlled him. It was as if the 7
strength of her words had crushed his
spirit. He; could not even cry out in
protest. An inbred New England con
science compelled him' to realize his
duty. There was nothing beyond: the
impregnable wall of right.
He beard himself mumbling, “They’ve
bound both my hands, the quick and
the dead.” His'ironical laughter flood
ed the, room. “’Blessed be the ties that
bind.”
DEVILS HAUNT SHIP,
COOLIE CREW SAYS
Seven Boarded Castle Wray
in Chinese Waters.
New York.—A full share of -the
wonders ; of the deep Which are seen
by those who go down to the sett in
ships was' reported by the officers of
the British cargo steamer Wray .Cas
tle, Staten island, after half a year’s
voyhge around the world.
They said-that if the coolie mem
bers of the crew were tb be believed,
they were haunted by no fewer than
seven malignant devils during peariy
the whole of their sojourn In Chinese
waters. It was 1 only when they had
reached the Indian .ocean that the
sailors, by ’ setting off firecrackers,,
burning joss sticks and. thro wing, over
board .tempting meals of roast ehick-
|en; could persuade the evil spirits to
leave. 1
The Wray Castle, a'sturdy 6,000-ton
freighter, left New York last January,
but it was not until she reached the
Philippines that the presence of the
demons was suspected.
Things Happen.
While the vessel was at dock In
Manila an apprentice lost his balance
while painting part of the superstruc
ture. He fell, breaking his collar
bone. Shortly. afterward, when the
vessel had reached Shanghai, Second
Officer William Spancer fell into
Hatch No. 5. He was nearly killed.
! When, on the way south toward Sing
apore, several of-.the crew sustained
I minor injuries there was no longer
I any doubt as to what was the cause.
As a result Chief Steward Wong
Jong King, who has been employed by
| the company twenty years, held a
conference with 1 “Number One,” the
head Chinese. As soon as they reached
Singapore the two went to the Bud
dhist temple, where they asked the
priest to send down a “kwong-ho-
cluk-cluk man” or magician to drive
away the spirits.
The priest told them that the ma
gician would do no good owing to the
noise of the harbor. He advised them
to let him sell them $20 worth of fire-
] works and to buy three fresh chick-
* eos- He said this would accomplish
' their purpose.
When the ship was in midocean the
chickens Were roasted and placed
•steaming hot on the hatch-covers.
j[They were then thrown overboard in
| the hope that the devils would follow
| .them. After this for three- hours the
; crew set off the fireworks and burned
1 the joss sticks and false paper money.
I Evidently, the devils left, for from
then on the weather was fair and no
accidents took place until the Atlantic
ocean was reached. Just past the
Azores they ran intp a heavy storm.
Wong Jong went to the captain. j|
“Ship’s cats have two black kit
tens, * he said. “Bad joss come en-
gin 6 room again. Makee, waves go up.
Throw overboard quickly all go all
right.”
The .captain allowed one kitten to
be consigned to the deep, but insisted
on 1 saving the Other. Apparently, ac
cording to Chief Officer Dwyer, tills
was not enough for the joss. The had
weather lasted until tSey reached New
York.
To Make the Men
Notice Her
m m m ^ vs. m ta V % m m m m m m m m v
By JANE OSBORN .....
Professor Is, Greatest «<
Linguist in Europe
Posen, Poland.—rfassilo Schultbeiss,
professor at the University of Posen,
who i§ regarded as one of, file'greatest
linguists in, Europe today,, knowg- 86
languages and 240 dialects.
Few people in Poser/know him, for
he ’-leads the life of a recluse.. Sn.nv-
,white ... fiair-T-he (ik ,onl^’ thirty-eight
yqars old—heightens the unusual char
acter . of hi*s appearance . -
• ■ T'or a number* qf years he was
merely « modest teacher at tile “gym
nasium,” or high school. When ids
unusual gifts’ were - - discovered, - how
ever,- he was callej to the uuiversiiy.
Proih a i;emoteJprovince in china ■
there' recently arri ved a* letter for A .
Posen merchant, who took it to, the
department- of _ oriental languages- at
the’ .university. The , professors 1 in.
ur charge pondeied over the document
Yew a- week, and Were about lo give
up -in desjiair, when one of them re
membered Schultheiss.: s/, '
: “Why, that’s such-ancl-stich dialect-
spoken by only a few thousand p & o=
pie iii Eh’ina, 1 ” he said];, and lo®:e,d hitnt
self up in his study for the* next otj
hours. ; As he .emerged,*: 1 he was. able
Place a ^faultless transhition into
the hands of the i’osen merchant.
Willingness to Wait
A young farmer was urged to set
out some appl® trees. "No,” said he,
“they are too .Tong growing, and I
don’t want to plant for other people.”
The young farmer’s father was spoken
to about it, hut he, with better reasoh,
alleged that apple trees were slow
. and life .was fleeting. At last someone
mentioned it to the ol'd grandfather
of the young farmer. He had nothing
else to do—so he stuck; In sonic .trees.
He lived long enough to drink barrels
of cider made from the applet ''that
grew on those trees.—divas Web 4*11
Hoi men, •
$700,000 a Year Is
Cost of Sunburn
^Atlantic City, N. J.—’Approximately
.$700,006 can be saved to American em
ployers if the practice of ovelexposure
to the,sun at benches to gain a coat
of tan is discouraged, says Dr. Charles
F. Pabst, professor of skin diseases
at the Greenpoint hospital, Brooklyn.
“Bathers should be warned that ly
ing in the sun for hours at a time-is
a dangerous practice which often re
sults in serious harm,” said Doctor
Pabst. “The skin cannot manufac
ture pigments quickly enough to pro
tect one from injury unless the first
exposures are of short duration and
are lengthened only gradually. The
sun emits more ultra-violet light dur
ing July and August than at any other
tlfiae ; of the year, It may damage the
skin cells and even produce death;”
Doctor Pabst estimates that '10,000
working-days are lost every week
summer annually^ as a result of in
tense sunburn. Putting the average
working, wage at «7, he sees a lose to
employers ^>f ,$70;000 a week, or $700,-
000 for the tea weeks of summse.
.(Copyright.)
I) H,, HELLO,. Ida.. Didn’t expect
N’ 7 to see you here. This, is jolly.
That’s so, mother did say she’d asked
Tou. Big dance tonight. That’s why
you’re here. Over' at . the Country
club. | Well, so long, Ida. I’d stick
around only I’ve got a.date with a girl.
See you twilight at the club; -Don’t
forget to save me a dance. ■ I’m' com
ing, a.shade late, so hold off the inob
till I get there.” :
Those Were .the words that Ned Bo
land spoke when, one Saturday after
noon in'spring, he came home early
from the office and, whistling his care
free way into the family living-room,
came upon Ida Martin—a sort of a
cousin of his, as he always introduced
her, though the actual connection was
extremely remote.,
“I’m coming a shade late, so hold
the mob off until- I get there,” he had
just said to Ida, and eighteen-year-old
Ida, with cheeks rapidly turning very
%>ink. shot a rather resentful look from
her pleasant brown eyes,
“Hold off the mob,” she scorned.
“You know perfectly well that there
won’t be any mob, and I Wouldn’t have
come to this old dance only your moth
er—Cousin Nellie—wrote and begged
me to. Said you’d want to take me.’
Not that I care one teeny bit about
not going with yon. Only you know
well enough that I don't -know any of
the boys at the Club and with all those
girls—so smart and snippy and every
thing—why I’d . like to know ;how
you can expect I’d have a good time,
unless holding up one of the'walls,
and keeping down a chair is having a
good time !”
“Oh, I say,” said Ned, coming over
to Ida and trying to take her warm
little hands in his. “I didn’t know
mother said I’d take you. I never
thought about you when I told Alice
Clay' I’d take her. Bay, that’s a shame.
Maybe I could take you bpth—”
• “I hate that Alice Clay,” an
nounced Ida. “She’s snippy and she
wears freak clothes and her language
Is terrible. I heard 'her saying ■’Hon.’
to a man she’s just been introduced
to. Imagine taking two girls at once!
Pll go by myself and I won’t know
anyone and no one will notice me and
I’ll have a miserable time. Men don’t
know how it is. It they don't dance
people think : it is because they don’t
want to; if girls don’t dance—-every
one knows it’s ’cause they haven’t been
asked. I’m not popular—and there’s
no use pretending I am—a 1
"I don’t call not having a lot' of
dance partners, not being popular,”
Ned tried to console. ‘“Anyway, lots
of girls that aren’t as pretty as you
have mobs of partners, A girl needs
some sort of identification mark—sS
something to make the men notice
her. They ask for dances out of
curiosity.” 1 v
“So you mean—I’d have, loads of
partners—like Alice Clay—if I’d wear
a ring, in my-nose or belts on my toes,
or something like that,” said Ida, try
ing to hide the unsteadiness of her
voice. “I can’t say, Ned, that I care
SO much for your advice—”
That afternoon Ida excused herself
to her hostess and fairly sneaked
away on a bus to the nearest shopping
center.' She carried home with her
several parcels a few minutes before
the dinner hour and asked permission,
of her hostess to eat in her day'clothes
—and dress for the dance later. So It
really did take Ned’s breath away for
a brief second or so when he saw Ida
at the dance, arriving a shade; late
liinisel f with the (“smart and snippy”
Alice Clay. The fact was-that-he only
caught glimpses of Ida, The group ,of
KfamV pj**n about, lief madfe 'anything
else impossible. There was Ida—her
hair parted arid, brushed straight back,
on one side where an 'enormous loop
earring dangled almost to her, 'shoul
der—-and' on the'/otlier side.drawn well
dqwn over ihe - ear. Then there whs
a monstrous .spreading Spanish comb
• (hrust rakishliv in her hail' at that side.
N>d .might" also /have - noticed that
.there' was a small black 'cqurtplas-ter
crescent oil one side of her face and
that her little- black satin slippers had
bright red heels,;
When 1 Ned made his way to Ida she
told hini with a laugh that she hadn’t
been able to keep'aw'ny the mob. “I’m
sorry,” she. said. - “But you'd asked
only for one dance, so 1. knew it
couldn’t make much difference.” 1
‘ “I’m .going to go home , with .Alice,”
Ned managed to tell Ida toward the
close pf the dance. “But 1 want to
have,a word or two with you .when I
get home: I’ll expect to iiud you wait
ing when I come in.”
So when Ned reached his house lie
(found Ida, who had only jus't been
brought home by one of her many de
voted admirers. “See here, Ida,” said
Ned, not daring now to touch her, “ypu
ruined the evening for me., You had
no right to treat me that way, when
you were a guest* at my mother’s
house. , And those cads that you had
hanging around you 1 There were two
or three of them I wanted to shoot.
It’s all right for a girl to have a good
time and plenty of partners, but you
might have a litfle consideratidn. You
know you’re—yoi%e beautiful, Ida,”
and Ned almost stammered; with em
barrassment. A pause and then he
SEND ABD-EL KRIM TO VARIABLE STAR
ISLAND OF REUNION
/France Picks Future Home
I of Riff Chief. ~
added: /“Excuse me, dear,, but I’ve
been almost mad with jealousy this
evening—but you dqn’t understand.”
Ida smiled to herself. “I was only
taking yoSr advice,”.-said. Ida, as she
laid two small hands on Ned’s arms/
‘Tin sorry if I made you unhappy—-
but T" didn’t th'ink yem eared.”
Most v meteorites that, strike
apurth .are »ad« 'of alftel irsa.
the
i Washington;—-Abd-el-Krlm, for two
jyears'defender of the Riff against the
/armies of Spain and later France, • is
Ito be- exiled. News from Paris puts
the Island of Reunion in- the lime-
jlight as the future permanent home
iOf the Moroccan insurgent
I “France carries a full stock of is
lands usable for exiles,” says a bul
letin from the National Geographic
society. “Madagascar. was first sugj
[gested for Krim, but the weight of
(decision falls 400 miles southeast qf
Madagascar on Reunion. '
1 ‘What good exile islands have you
(nowadays?’ one may imagine /the
(French minister of war phoning the
(minister \ of cdlonies.
j “ ‘Some very good ones, indeed,’ the
(colonial minister certainly could re-
ijply. ‘There’s DevR’s island in French
(Guiana for criminals, and then there’s
(New' Caledonia away out in the Pa
cific, a soothing paradise ©f the South
Seas. How about Madagascar? Lots
(of room on Madagascar. Splendidly
(Situated near the Equator. Or Re-
junion! /There’s a perfect retreat for
jpolitical exiles. Forty-eight miles
long and twenty-four miles wide, two
((volcanoes and Only 107 vessels dock
(each year.’
i “Abd-el Krim Is quite familiar with
(Europe. It may subtract from the in-
jconvenlence of exile for him to be set
jdo'wn in ah island, predominantly. Eu
ropean. To be sure I the Reunio'ners
-are, not as p.urely Caucasian 1 as the
[British and Dutch of South Africa.
jStlll, 167,000 of the population of 172,-
.000 are classed as Europeans. In-
'fleed, Reunion Is a department of
France. The commonly accepted de-
■partments of France are within 380
■miles of Paris. Reunion is 7,500 miles
(by steamer and train from Paris.
“Even the names Reunion has taken
from time to time show its intimate
(link with Europe. Like a lady fair in
,days of old when knight and lady
(wore ribbons of the same color, Re-
-union has changed it$ name with the
(rise of new political conqueror on
(the continent Mascarenhas was its
first name in honor of a Portuguese
.discoverer who sailed when Portugal
was a first rate power. Louis XIH
■was in ascendant in 1643 when Fla-
[court claimed it for France, so it be
came Bourbon island. That name
was impossible to the Revolutionists.
(The island -therefore became Reunion
lUntil a new ‘knight’ arose In Europe, [
(when it, became lie Bonaparte. Since
(1848 Reunion has been the official
[name.
| “Conditions, geographical, climatic,
;and industrial; have changed less fre
quently than the island’s name. Re
union, ever since its < settlement, has
been a sort ■ of agricultural five-layer
[cake. The shore level Is marked by
[the gardens of the ring of towns.
(Next -comes a sweet layer ; the sugar
cane belt. Then a dark green layer
of forests. Fourth is the plateau re-
igion w^ere European vegetables ean
be raised. The fifth layer is the
1 brown of the volcanic peaks. Only
.occasionally is Reunion ‘cake’ frosted
(with white snow because the warm
(sea all about tempers t^e climate.
“If Mr. Krim cares to examine a
slice of Reunion he will, find it ‘sugar-
ahd-spice - and -everything - nice:’ The
second layer, as mentioned above, Is
mostly sugar. Sugar and one of its
'progeny,, rum, an> the ’chief exports
of tint island; :tnj during'the- World
war., it profited and perhaps profi
teered on sugar. . In the ,spice line
.Reunion oilers cloves. ■ And 'thereby
hangs a tale
, “Our- medieval ancestors loved to
eat. Where • the Twentieth century
spends ith sorplns on' six cylinders,
■ tlie Fifteenth’> century spent (its; pin'
. [money on its’palate. Its idea of a
•square men! was fed meat 'well sea
soned. -Seasoned w4'il did' not mean
(a pinch oC salt and a dash of pepper..
?Oui foiebba stffousiedypep)©? >oh their:
meat and stuck it full,of cloves. Spice
•islands or the Moluccas in the tangled
-[straits. of the East - Indies were, found.
to be the native habitat of doves. The
;joy,with which the Portuguese greeted
ibis discovery could only be equalled
:today by the burst- of a Teias gusher
loll well. They tried to keep th'eir,
jflnd' : a . 'treasured secret. But y the
(Dutch, who came into ascendancy- re-
slrictqd cloves, fo Amboyna island and
ordered their navy tq[destroy.all Other
(clove 'trees , every place. In. the face
[of,,deai:h at the hands of the -Dutch,
a man named I’oivre Introduced the
(clove free to-Reunion and neighbor
ing iMauritiuS) thus emancipating Eu
rope from the Dutch monopoly.
Geranium Town.
“Many orchards of clove trees with
their shiny evergreen leaves can, be
[seen on Reunloifr The clove buds are
in clusters. First they are green,
than they turn red, when they are
(ready to be picked.
“Another specialty from which'Re
union profits is vanilla. The produc
tion of vanilla orchid beans, Reunion
(Shares with the Seychelles to ~the'
[north and with Mexico.
“There are three towns on Reunion
-with u population of mor.e than 18,000
j—St. Denis, St. Pierre and St. Paul.
.If Abd-el Krim is given his choice, St.
(Pierre ujoul^, appear to be the most
attractive for' a permanent residence.
[It is the center of the island’s trade in
(essence of geranium. The flower that
(decorates our houses and garden*/ is
SefENTfSMSSERTS;
Measure Chan|es |n Energy
I From Orb tb^larth.
(A commercial product here. What
prospeht. --A'life of pensioned ease on
a tropical 1% aniid aer^ . of gerani*
j Washington.—The sun ig a variable
[Star. This central fire of the .plane
tary system does not 5 glow vVitli a
.steady heat but. flickers ftom day to
(day and from year to yeat, and the
(vagaries of our earthly weather must
depend at least partly on the sun’s
variations., This opinion, which has
j been supported for many years hy Dr.
|C. G. Abbot of the Smithsonian insti
tution, finds new support in evidence
(produced by a new system lie lias de-
jvised for measuring and recording the
'Changes in the energy reaching the
earth from the sun.
Doctor Abbot calls attention to the
(work of H. H. Clayton, who [has an-
[nounced that he finds variations of
/weather caused by solar changes.
But many meteorologists have not'
(been- convinced that the sun really
(varies. They fear that the compli-'
■cated, measurements of Doctor Abbot,
[hindered as they are by the haziness
(and humidity of the earth’s atmos
phere, are not conclusive. The vari
ability which he reports, they suggest,
[may all be due to unavoidable atmos
pheric sources- of error.
Announces a Direct Teqt.
Doctor Abbot now announces a
(very direct test that should settle the 1
-question.. Although it is impossible
(to do the measuring from a point out-
jside the atmosphere, yet it is possible
jto select times when the transparency
fand other affecting qualities of the
jair are closely alike, and the sun
'Stands at equal height above the
horizon. At such times the solar
heating should vary only if the sun
does.
Selecting the month of July in the
j years 1910 to 1920 for his test) he
(collected results observed on Mount
(Wilson for all days of practically con
stant atmospheric conditions. The
(average monthly values thus selected
[he compared with those obtained by
(the usual%>rocess and heretofore pub
lished. He also compared them with
(the average monthly numbers of sun
(spots. The thrqe curves that express
[his results run along very closely-to
gether. They show that the sub’s
(heating in July, 1917, averaged over-
2 per cent above that of July In 1910
-and 1911. Correspondingly; the sun
spot numbers were 117 In July, 1917,
(and only 14 and 3, respectively, in
[July 1910 and 1911.
Not content with this prodf of the
(reality of long-range solar changes,
[Doctor Abbot rearranged the meas-
lures in a way to test short-interval
[solar variation. For this purpose he
(picked out from the new data all the
[days that gave high- values of solar
,heating, and all those which give low
j ones. The average excess Value for
151 high days was plus 1.43 per cent,
and ■ the average defect for 51 low
(days was minus 1.47.
U Range Not So Great,
j The same days, -as already pub
lished four years ago, Indicated on
[the average plus 0.51 and minus 0.42 1
[per cent, respectively. Thus the days
[shown above normal by, the new
.method of 'selecting times of equal
(atmospheric clearness had already
[been-.shown as above normal by the
i usual; process, ■ and vice Versa. Of
i course the range as formerly pub- .
dished could not be so great, because
[the errors, of observation could not be
.-expected, to fall the same-in the two
jsets of data. ; Some days would lie
[high and; 'some low, not because 1 of ;.
[the , sun’s’ condition, -but; because ’ the
-small obsen otianal -errors/heiped to
[make them so r
\ -Doctor Abbot’s new method, he 1
/hopes, may.'/be convincing of the sun’s
IHII all- /)
[[the more important and interesting,’?
'his' establishment-under the joint aus-
pices- of the ‘National-Geographic so*
.cioly; and the ■.Smithsoniijn insiiuition .
‘of a new solar/observatory on B-ruk-
karos' mountain' in southwest - Africa./c
[This/site He de^eeted last March after ■
[studying on tlie ground conditions in a;
'Algeria; and Balucidstan. / The’ mount ”;
(tain is, 5,200 feet high in a desert
[where the’ yearly rainfall averages
only 3% inches. Roads and construe- \
-tion are ' rapidly, going ahead under 6?
■ the supervision of A.-Drydeu,. inspee-
-tor of public, works' for - the govern- i-
mqnt of southwest Africa.- The-,: com'- ’
plex apparatus required has been pre- ' '
pared, and” the expedition is [expected ,
to go forward soon in care of W.'H.
Hoover, director, and F. A. Greeley,
assistant.
Religious Bodies’ Wealth
Placed at Three Billion
Washington.—The total wealth of
all religious organizations in the
United (States in 1922 is estimated at
$8,271,558,000 on a basis of returtis re
ceived by the federal commission. The
-study Is part- Of a voluminota# report
[on national wealth and income made
In response to a senate resolution.
The wealth of the religious organi
zations, it is disclosed, is slightly
more than 2 per ceut of the total esti
mated wealth of the country.
The largest single religious denomi-
; nation, both In property and in mem
bership, Is the Roman Catholic church.
Its membership embraced 3P\ per cent
of , the estimated entire chuirch mem
bership of the country In 1922. The
estimated value of its church property
represented 23 per cent , of the total
church property.- In proportion tb its
» Sf proporuon to Its
a 1 /Size, however, the Protestant Episco
pal church is the wealthiest «f aRv its
church property beingestimated s
value of«$228'a’nle»biBr,