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HomeMy WebLinkAboutExeter Advocate, 1900-4-26, Page 2eemeee* MflPY [1111AILION'3 ROMIINCE By TORII STRANGE WINTER. • [copyright, nses, by thet Anther.] SIM Watched him go down the village etreet; with eyes full of prids. and love. Whet 0 unan be \vas! With what a awing he walked I With wbat carelesS, eaSy, graceof carriage! A. man every shot of him! She waS sorry to leave the dean" little Cornish village, aad yet she ' :felt.. that the , pleasant Basque town wohld be at 011CO a change and a relief from the monotony of the life that they Were then leading. She dreaded that one day Alan would wake up to dull- ness, for that. she well knew, would be the beginning of the end of their love. Yes, for both their sakes it were better that they should go to Biarritz and be gay She would be quite safe there. Edward Conway, if he were really seek - She watched him go down the village street. ing for her, would never look for her in such a place as that. If he were on her track, he would find her as well at St. Agnes as be would find her at Biarritz. There! That was the last! She shut down the lid of her dress basket with an air of satisfaction. Alan's portmantean. she had finished half an hour before. She would put her hat and gloves there. on the dressing table, so that she would only just have to run up stairs and fetch them after breakfast She glanced at her watch. Oh, be had had plenty of time to get back from seeing the old boatman, and she turned to the window to look whether he were not coming. She only gave one glance. The window was at the end of the TOOTH and com- manded a full view of the irregular cobble paved street. And as11.1ary's eyes were turned to look along it she saw Alan Stacey and Edward Conway walk- ing up the street. CHAPTER XV. TO TILE BITTER usu. Mary.enly gave one horrified glance along the village street, ere she cowered beets behind the shelter of the white dimity curtains. Yes; it was het The man who in law owned her; the man who had bought ber with a price; the man who bad treated her as a bond slave. He was not very much changed. His hairand beard were white, but his face was just as weather beaten as of yore, and his gait had the same pronounced sailor's roll •He was apparently talking excitedly and was gesticulating wildly with his bands. Alan was listening, as he loung- ed along with his bands in the pockets of his jacket and his pipe between his teeth. The figures of the two men passed under the window and out of her sight, but Mary stood there like a woman who was petrified. Stood there, holding for support to the frail curtain, waiting for the blow to fall. She waited as Marie Antoinette may have waited under the guillotine. In five minutes it will be all over: in four; in three; in two; in one. It was close at band—about to fall. Yes( She tore herself away from the support of the curtain as she heard a footstep on the stair Then Alan en- tered the room. "Well, sweetheart, are you not near- ly ready for breakfast?" he asked. The sudden revulsion of feeling, the overpowering sense of relief almost broke her down. She caught hold of the dressing table to steady herself, but for a second or two could not speak. At last she choked down the great knot in her throat and asked him a question. "Who was that you came up the street with?' He never looked at her as he answer- ed, He was doing something to his pipe "Oh, a claap who asked the way; that was all" "The way to where?" "I directed him to Roathlyn. He is half way there by this tinae. Come,let us go down and get our breakfast.", She felt that the risk was immense. She wondered what Edward Conway was doing in that part of Cornwall. She had never heard him speak of having been in Cornwall; she had never heard of his having any connection with any one in Cornwall or with Cornish people and then she reminded herself, half bit- terly, that she had known very little of him at all. But what was he doing hero An St. Agnes? It was no use shirking the situation. She must dare and risk all at this juncture. Nothing would be gained by cowardice And, after all, he ouald never force her to go back to him. Be could only at the very worst expose her, and in her case exposure would Mean tine world's pity, never its scorn. She drew her breath sharp between her teeth, Wok her handkerchief off the dressing table and turned arid went out of the room and down the stairs, Alan Stacey following. And hi the best par- lor their hyeaktast Waa laid, and in 'two , no otiose the dediette fried fish and gold: se. :resit eggs wure brought in oi ow4s and haeon. sweet,. 'at,art 't sant Stacey as the apple cheek. ou maid lifted the covets of the tsvo dishes 'tdeats end becen, thank you, Alan. tith, to011t4 She had never in her life felt less like eating, but it ,would not do to arouse suspicion), by n'eiusing to try to do se. She poured out the coffee and listened with a smile that was not very real while Alan told her of his farewell to the old boatman. At last he stretched out his hand to her acsose the table "Swevtheart," he &lid, "you are quite Sad at going away. Would you rather stay here?" She answesecl him all in a hurry "Oh, no, Alan; no, ne 1 ani all packed and ready. Don't suggest such a thing What should make yen give um such a Lot's wife charecter as that? I launch prefer to be going away, We have been here quite long enough. It is a dear lit- tle place, and you know I always want to stay in a new plaee forever; it is one of my characteristics, but I think I get tired of them. I think I use them up. don't believe I shall want to come to St. Agnes again." "Not even to have the cottage ?'' trying hard to repress a shud- der; "no, not even to have the cottage, Alan. After all, I think you are right. There is no place like Loudon. We will stay at home a few days before we go on. What do you think?" "Just as you please. I don't see why we shouldn't.'' "Nor L'' said she, for the thought had come to her that, if Edward Con- way was hunting her down, there is no place in the world where you can keep yourself hidden so easily05in London Nor would it be entsy to find her, for she had not a single friend or acquaint- ance who had known her at the time. of Captain Conway's. supposed death. At the time of her second marriage she would have written to Mr. Lawson, to: whom she bad only a few weeks before repaid the last installment of the at what pinching effort she alone knew, but he had just died, and with the oth- er officials of the Red River line she bad no acquaintance. So long as she did not walk abroad there was but very little chance of her stumbling against her gustier, Here, on the contrary, it was almost impossible to keep out of the way of' any one whom you did not want to see Presently she would have to drive three miles to the station, not, mercifully, along the road to Roathlyn, but in the opposite direction. Still, it was possible that he might have changed his mind, and in any case she would not feel absolutely secure until she -was out of the neighborhood, until she was out of this desolation of woods and fields and into the safe shelter of the great city. For one wild moment she wished with all her heart she had told. Alan when the news ef Edward Conway's rescue first reached her. But now that she had come face to face with the ter- rible and awful tragedy which would end, God alone knew bow, she did not dare to speak. As she sat there, trying to force the egg and the delicate strips of bacon bit by bit down her throat, she recalled the very first time that she had ever seen him—how he had refused, with absolute scorn to inquire into her character, how he had told her that honesty was the dominant note of her life; that she bad many times given - herself away by being too honest, by not being able to tell, at the right mo- ment, the harmless, necessary lie. And if I tell the truth I must needs confess that she was at this juncture afraid to: tell him—afraid to own that she had shared his life and love while the barrier of a, great secret lay be- tween them. She told herself that it would have been so easy to carry the news straight to him then that day when her horrified eyes had first fallen upon that announcement in the papers which was headed. "Survivors of the Arikhamh." It was not easy then; now it was almost impossible. She felt that she could not face the look of sur- prise in his eyes; she felt that if every- thing came out, and he should ask her to stay with him, he could no longer ask it as a favor. So more and more she realized the need of keeping it all a dead secret, of hiding from Ed- ward Conway as long as she could and of trusting to blind chance and Provi- dence to free her—to free her this time beyond all shadow of doubt. There were still some trivial arrange- ments for Alan to make when they had finished breakfast, gratuities to be giv- en, one or two little bills to be paid and the landlord's account to be settled in full. She could hear him in the little room across the Passage explaining to mine host that he had no doubt as to the honesty of the bill—it was no use his going over the items; that he had not the least idea how many whiskies and sodas he had had, and that if he had no objection he would prefer to set- tle the account without any further ar- grunents. Then she heard the landlord pretest that he wanted them to come back again, and therefore he was par- ticularly anxious that Mr. Stacey should go thoroughly into the bill, so that if there was anything to which he object- ed be might meet him at once. "My friend," said Alan, "yea' will never make your fortune. Here you have entertained ne to the best of your ability' You have satisfied both my wife and mYself, and we aro extremely obliged to you fox :III the trouble and pains that you 110n been at to give us a good time. I am quite satiefied that the bill is all right and that there isnot 0 single item in it to which any: reason- . . able man could raise any objection. ' Then she heatcl the chink of money and, from. the silence that followed, guested that the landlord was employed in the seriOua bnisiness of receipting, the bill She wondered how many morello - tel bill a would be Made out paid and re.ceipted for their sojourn together, r WOO(4)rod 11 Edwinrc Conn: av tho d I:Mr, WO she decided to stay With Alan ---ir Alaa did out wish her to go' 0way She wondered What .peOple. in London syounld 81Y1.40W they Weold take it She- stitpposed that in that CWit' Edward Can way w011ia undte it the buSiness of his life to mit* thenn round and ex, !plain to every °De tile ON/t(4 position in whmhthey were pieced. Wohld it 08 better' to tell eVerybody ? ,Would the story get into the papers? Would it be bluzonecl from one end of the .world to the other that Alan Stacey's wife had°4 .story as romantic as any of tho thrill- ing pages which had,eorene frem his pen? She .bethonght her, in her distress An4 anXietY, of 0 silly gem° called "consequences," a game in which the last clause. is, "Andthe world said," What would the world say to them—to bee? She did not know; she did not dare to think; Only She felt resolved that So long as she could'keep the secret she would do sei. ."And you will come back again, sir?" she heard the boniface sett "Yes, I expect We shall tome back again the next time I have, got a spell of hard week on and went .to get out of London, It is difficult to work. in Lon- don," she heard. Alan answer; "it is difficult to keep. free of ..intesruptions and so on. We 'have enjoyed ourselves very nruch, I can assure you Then she hearda. leavy footfall en- tering the house. Her anxious, strained ears told her whose 'steps they were. They passed her door to the 'Sanded bar, and then she heard Edward Conway's Voice saying "Yonhave a lady here that is passing tinder. the name of Sta- cey. Which is her rboth?" Then there was a WuSh across the passage, and Alan Stacey burst into the room and caught her in his arms. "My poor child," he said, "I have been dreading this fort Weeks and weeks. The blow has fallen at last " And by some instiuct Mary knew not only that he had known the truth all along, but that he had been the first of the two to hear it. CHAPTER' XVI. LET NO MAN PUT ASUNDER. There was only time for a hurried whisper between them "You won't desert me—you won't give me ever to him?" she gasped. "Never," he •° answered; "never while I live l'' Then the door was pushed hurriedly open, and Edward Conway's blunt fea- tures and burly figure appeared before them. It was apparent to the meanest ob- servation that the man was beside him- self with passion. He stood just within the doorway, his bands thrust deep down into his trousers pockets, eying first one and then the other with hii flinty eyes, and upon his lips was a ter- rible sneer. "Well, Mrs. Conway," he began al last, "have you no sort of welcome fon me, your long lost husband, given up for lost years since, your little more than bridegroom? Still silent? Have you nothing to say?" Her lips moved, but no sound came from between them. "Still silent? No fond word of greet- ing? Too much astonished, eh? You made sure I was dead and gone, didn't you? But Edward Conway is not got rid of so easily as that! Don't you think itl Edward Conway has been under fox a good long time, and Edward Conway has got up again, and he has come back again to his happy home and his loving little wife that he left behind him." "You shall never come back to Mel 1 would never have Lived with you again! Yon knew it l'' "Oh, you're thinking still of a bit of a tiff! What's that between husband and wife? Have you never tiffed this Johnny that you took up with as soon as I was gone?'' "This lady is my wife, sir, put in Alan Stacey, with dignity. "Your what?' "My wife, sir! Your turning rip , again most inoppostunely may annul; our marriage, but no slur will rest upon this lady. There is nobody who knows here that will pot pity her, and pity her doubly, first, for having been mar- ried to you at all; secondly, for having been the victim of a terrible chain of circumstances. This lady did not take' up with me • She marriedme with all' due forruality and blessing of the church. Until you have legal proof that our , marriage be no marriage she is my wife." "She is coming back with me," said Edward Conway, shutting his teeth hard and snapping the words out as if his lips were rattraps. "She is never going with you, She will never have anything to do with you again—never. She would never have lived with you again under any cir- cumstances. You took advantage of her, You bought her with a price. Yon ill used her .1 am ashamed to -say it, but you struck her—your little more than bride And you can ask her when she has tasted the sweets of a real mar- riage, when she has known what it is to live with a man who would thrust his hand into the fire rather than raise it against a NVOIEtt/I—yau can eels her to go back to the slavery and degradation of life with you? Think, my good sir, is it likely ?" don't know whether it's likely,' said Edward Conway "I know what tine law is, and 1 meat) to have it. "I will never go hack to him, never!' Mary flashed out [mo DE CONTINUED.] H EA VY' SOlLi „ 6 fa Fitt CONCERNING SPRAYING, Close, Is olil Saver/wee tt close reader?" "I should say he is a close reader. Why, lat's i)(4.9.) nradifig bis street .car transfer roe a peper for over a year."— Chicago News. Aeeennted For., "There goes a follow wbo says there is no place like Brooklyn io live in." "Must be sometbiog queer About hlin," "There is. 110 is a Brooklyn main ee The Newer Th gni or 'Filings We linow Better Than Formerly. Tlnc impoi Mime of spraying is now very generally admitted, though occa- sionally a MUD, having received little benefit, from it eue season, may ques- tion its necessity. Tlic ouc IN 1 o bc lieVes in precautious is likely to prac- tice speayieg, for it is knowa that it kills 'listens and checks fuugus, and the incursions of these trouhles are ei- ther really increasing ov receiving the greater attention due to such deStrI1C- IiVe agencies. A few of the latest Points in thisbranch of farm practice ale picsented 111 anticipatiou of the corning season by grollesser L. H. 13ai- • , 1"Vhat is new in spraying? be asks and answers the question thus: "Per- haps nothing which experimenters are ready to recommend, but we Lwow some things better than we did last year. One of those is that the old ker- osene and soap emulsion, the vilest of eoncoctions, seems to be doomed. The kerosene and water emulsion, is to take its place. The insecticidal properties ef this mixture have long been known, but it has needed a practicable me- chanical device to mix them. There are two great difficulties in this me- chanical problem — the difficulty of making it mathematically correct mix- ture of the water and oil and the diffi- culty Of securing power enough to mix the liquids and to throw the spray the required distance., "It is scarcely to be 'expected that the automatic kerosene and water mix- ing pump can ever throw a spray so far as one which expends all its ener- gies in throwing the spray. These au- tomatic pumps are not yet perfect, but some of them are perfect enough to be useful and reliable, and they indicate that we may expect better things. I dO not say that the kerosene and soap emulsion is already out of date, only that the indications are that it will be- come less and less important. "Shall white arsenic be used as a , substitute for parts green? This is not a new question. The arsenic is com- bined with lime to form arsenite of . lime. There is no question as to the efficacy of the mixture or its safety on foliage. Our tests show that it is less caustic than Paris green to foliage," says Professor Bailey and adds that be does not recommend it publicly, be- cause it is a dangerous thing to have white arsenic bought, mixed and boiled in an ordinary, careless manner. To careful farmers who have much spray- ing to do the white arsenic can be rec- enimencled confidently, but he belies -es that most 'people should buy their poi- sons ready prepared, even if the cost is somewhat greater. "The San Jose scale is still with us. It will stay. There is no hope of erad- icating it. Then every man should be prepared to meet it. For three seasons now we have experimented with the Iserosene`and water emulsion, as others have clone, and have fond that it is a specific for the scale. In the propor- tion of. one part of' oil to five of water in summer and one to four in winter it will kill the scale. "Can a man. hope to annihilate the scale, then, by spraying? No. On plants which he can spray thoroughly and frequently Inc can hope to erad- icate it, but I should not expect him to eradicate it from a large and badly in- fested plantation any more than he can eradicate the apple scab or the bark louse. But I should expect him to keep. it in check. Spraying for San Jose scale must come to be an accepted practice, as- spraying for potato blight is." The Possibilities of the Catalpa. The possibilities of the catalpa are, attracting attention in connection with, the interest now taken in timber cul- ture. The hardy catalpa is easy to. propagate, easy to transplant, grows. rapidly and: suffers but little from the onslaughts of insects and diseases. It is therefore well adapted for thnber plantations in localities where it doe3 not winter kill. A good guide in the matter of climate is said to be the peach. Where this tree will grow It is safe to plant the catalpa. The wood Is soft, weighs 20 pounds per cubic foot, is brown in color and makes good fence posts, being very durable. It is re- ported not a long lived tree, and the trunk in old age is liable to be decayed at the center. The catalpa grows best In a rich, moist bottom land. Am Ohio Mam's Ideal COW Stabil*. want my stable above ground. No cellar for me, as I do not believe cows relish being confined in a dungeon any more than a man does. Give them all the sunlight possible. I never saw a stable with too many windows to suit me. If you are building, by all means look well to your water supply. If possible to do so, build where you can have the advantage of running water In your stables. If you cannot do this, be sure you get a supply of well water at all times in the year at a reasonable depth. After you have fitted up your stable with modern devices for water - Ing those Cows go one step further and arrange to heat that water Op to a tem- perature of 70 degrees. glghting Fire 314 Cranberry Marmite", A WiSCODSII3 cranberry grower sug- gests that fire in cranberry marshes and on prairies might be fought on the sapid principle which is utilized in the miner's safety lamp. He would head off and smother the advance tongue of fire, which usually acts as a leader to the main body Of flames, by the use of unpainted wire screen, such as is used for windows and through which flaw, wul not pass. /MechaniCal Condition Improved by Proper Manuring, Cropping, Etc, otliing is olOre aggravating, :lad often unprofitable,•too, than to have a heavy muck or. clay, soil retain the moisture and frost so late in the spring that early.plowing is out ,of the ques- tion. When other soils are in ondl- tion for plowing and cultivating, the heavy soil is muddy and sticky, so that it is impossible to do much with it. Of course the advice of some would be to give up such soil, but wbcnwo consid- er that the heavy innek.soilis.often the richest this would hardly do. What we need is some intelligent plan to im- prove the mechanical conditions of such heavy soils so they will be less likely to give trouble. Thechief fault to be found with heavy soils is diet there is not sufficient porosity in it to. permit water to percolate theouith It. In other words, the natural drainage of thc soil is poor, and artificial drain- age or some kind must be resorted to. There are several ways to accomplish this. The most sensible is to add such coarse material to it that there will be 0 breaking up of the sticky mass. This, will sometimes effect such a, cure that drains will notb B t thc supply of coarse material mug be kept up continuously and not, abandoned after one year. This wouldbe rather expensive and unsatisfactory if it were not at the same time fertilizing and. improving the soiL It is by utilizing: the right kind of crops tbat.we canine - prove a thick, mucky or clay soil: First of all, however, it may be necessary to, dress the land with lime in order to. sweeten the soil for the.proposed,crops. The land has indigestion, as i0 were, and fermentation has made it sour s0. that some crops could not thrive on it. Thirty or 40 bushels of water slacked: lime to each acre may first be needed to sweeten the soil so that ordinary crops will grow. 'There is no better crop, to, raise the first year than Indian corm which can, be planted quite late in, the season, when the soil has dried up, The corm roots are coarse feeders and' will, brea,k up the soil to 0 large extent, and. the fall corn should be cut early, and, a, crop of buckwheat or winter grain of some kind should be sowed, to be turu- ed under with the plow the: following spring. 13' adding rough plant food to the soil in the shape of manure,the soil will be further improved: In, plowing the subsoil should he broken up, as much as possible. By cultivating each year crops that have deep roots and are coarse feedta's we keep breaking up the soil so that it has less chance to get together into thick, compact masses. There is nothing better for this than coarse manure and green crops turned under every year, plowing them down as deep as possible Into the subsoil, saYs an American. Cultivates writer. k Canker, Dead Spot,.Blaelr Spot, Ete. Apple tree anthracnose is thOnftme which Professor Cordley of Oregon Lass selected as appropriate for a trouble that is locally known as "canker," "dead spot" or "black spot" in the ap- ple orchards of. the Pacific northwest, where it, has beenQuite serious the past year. It vvas.at first thought that it was identical with, the apple canker of eastern orchards, but 11r. Cerdley APPLE TREE ANTHRACNOSE. believes that they are entirely distinct and the antbracnose a new disease. Apple tree anthracnose is caused by a fungus which attacks the bark, usually on, the smaller branches, appearing first after autumn rains. It roughens, disfigures and- weakens the branches. It generally occurs as it spot froth which the bark sloughs off, but occa- sionally girdles a branch and thus kills a portion of it. Thorough spraying with lbordeaux nnixture or with the ammoulacal solu- tion of copper carbonate, once soon aft- er the fall rains begin and again as soon after the leaves fall as possible, is recommended as remedial, and this may be supplemented in orchards but little diseased by cutting out anthrac- nosed spots and painting the cuts with strong bordeaux. .11.1inga That Are Told. The cranberry is one of the crops whieh the census bureau will investi- gate by means of special.schedules dis- tributed only in the localities in which the crop referred to is grown., The in- quirieS endeavor to distinguish be- tween the area of natueal and of plant- ed vines and to byline; out indications of the future of the industry. Connecticut tobaceo growers will make hay while the still Of good prices shines by planting a large acreage the coming Season. It is expeeted that it school of applied agricnIture and horticulture will soon, Pc established on a 200 acre farm about 83 miles from New York city. Both men .and women will be received as students, and the tuition fee will be small, The course Is to include both special and elementary scientific in- struction, practical work in the field and in the planting and care of 01. - chards, small fruits, market garden vegetables, greenhouse culture, dairy work and poultry raising. THE SUDANESE FEVER. ts 11,k, '11.' 1,11:1s4.:::Iliis..ty. See 1 : v.1.0 add Itiedlt MtLeit aLtemion has been called to the Humber of leen in the army serv- ing the United States in the Philip- pines who have gone insane. Thee go \ eminent has sent a special com- mission out there to investigate the matter, and there has been talk of a mysterielle disease called the ''Sunare. aseisfeiNs'er'he"lieved by some that this disease is peculiar to East Indian and Ifrican tropics; that it was this wet- hmter—„„...ed—d MALAY RUNNING AMUCK. which caused Dr. Peters to get into trouble for killing Africans, and mad& the French officers in the interior ofil Africa recently slay other officer& sent to their relief, is one theory, Everybody has heard of the Malay who runs amuck, and, frenzied, kills right and left until he himself is kill- ed. The word "amuck'- is a corrup- tion. of the Javanese word "amoak," to kill. There seems to be no doubt that the Malay occasionally goes crazy through an overindulgence in opium of hasheesh, and, springing from his "shack," runs naked through the streets of his village, killing all whom he may meet. When in a Malay village the cry "amuck" is raised, it is like the cry of "mad dog!" in this country, and the populace turn out with long bam- boo spears to kill the man as soon as they can. .But the "Sudanese fey, - or," if it exists, is another thing ap- parently. It may be that the disease which has afflicted white men in the . Philippines and in equatorial Africa . is only a variation of apoplexy, brought on by indulgence in heating : and stimulating foods. The London Lancet recently had . something about the alleged' disease. People who had been a.filicE.ed with it and had recovered said that they had 4 a, sudden sensation of it desire to kill, and that they "saw red." A sudden en -11x of blood to the head' and the bursting of a blood vessel would produce insanity or coma. In the northern climes it more usually results in coma; tn the tropics it seems 'to result in insanity. All the soldiers of the ITaited'Staten.. army in the Philippines who have been sent back as insane have been violent. This "seeing red" seems to be a peculiarity of the Asiati, ip when he Is excited violently. Tie , Sikhs and the Gourkhas, the bes fighters in the native Indian .armyd,''' describe their feeling when in, the charge in the frenzy of battle. as. "seeing red." It is probably due 10. an afflux of blood to the head, which. congests the small veins of • the eye- ball. TRICK X RAY MACHINE, A Yankee Trick That Aroueed the Ir. of) a British Editor. The ordinarily dignified British Journal is horrified over the fact that. In Boston there Is being manufacture ed and sold, an "X-ray camera" which is nothing but a. fraud. The, camera, withe pneumatic ball, is plac- ed in position" before it sitter, 10. front of whose body, is. placed a, sheet, apparently ofwhite paper, without a mark upon.lt. Behind the. body is placed a lamp. The expos- ure is made by pressing the ball. Gradually the paper loses its white- ness, the various organs of the body „quickly depict theuiselvee, first im faint color, then almost immediately in brilliant reds for the lungs, a duller red for the heart, green for the stomach and, intestines, and blue TRICK X RAY MACHINE. fo'r the veins; other parts in black. This result, however, says the Jour- nal, Is only it trick. The white piece of panes has previously been painted over with strong and diluted sulphocyanide solution, ferricyanide solution, weak and strong, and final- ly with tannin, the details being supplied by an anatomical drawing over which thin paper is, place while the organs are being painted by the various solutions nained. The "[queer,. ing of the bulb does not, as imagined, Open the lens—it simply ejects an inviSible spray .of solution of ferri� chloride from a concealed source upon the paper, the vvell-known reaction of this salt with the chemipals named • producing the various colors. So long as it is understood ' to be I% trick the idea Is ingenious and arnue- ing, " Paris sawara 141,vms• A vigorous protest is being raised against the ,neW sewage fame near Parisi. The sewage seems ,to escape between fissures in the soil into sub- terranean sources. of supply to the, wells, with the result that local wells are infected and thae exists an epidemic of intestinal troubles.