The Gazette, 1893-08-31, Page 6int
tes
NOT WISELY, BUT TOO WELL,
CH I PTER XIX.
We whisper, and hint, and chuckle,
And grin at a brother's shame.
Lauraine sees no more of Keithduring
the next week, but she hears from Mrs.
Woollffe that he has gone to the Black
Forest.
"I don't know what's come to him,"
complains the garrulous American. "Guess
he's off his head sometimes. Those dollars
have been an unlucky windfall for him.
He's not like the same chap he was in New
York. He never looks pleased noway, and
he was the merriest, larkiest young fellow
anyone could wish to see when I knew him
dust. I thought Nan would wake him up a
bit, but she don't seem to answer ; and now
he's run off from Baden-Baden as if it was a
den of rattlesnakes ; and they do say (she
drops her voice mysteriously) that he's with
that notorious Frenchwoman Coralie Lafitte.
My word, if that's so, won't she make the
dollars fly ! All the same, I'm uncommon
sorry for Keith. Never thought he was one
of that sort,."
Lauraine grows hot and cold with shame
Is she listens. She had thought there would
be nothing harder for her to do after giving
him up, after that last sad parting ; but to
hear of his recklessness, his sins, to know
that she may be in a measure to blame for
both cuts her to the heart.
She eats quite silent, her hands busy with
some crewel -work that she is doing. Mrs.
Bradshaw B. Woollffe is paying her amorn-
ing visit. Lady Jean has fled at the first
approach of the enemy, and so Lauraine
has to entertain her alone.
Mrs. Woollffe talks on, on ; but her list-
ener hears nothing of what she says. Her
thoughts are only with. the man
whose life she has wrecked. Her
storm -shattered heart aches and throbs with
memories freshly brought'to life. She has
done what was right ; she has severed her
life from his, but if it makes him evil. des -
aerate, hopeless; if it sends him to profligate
men and bad women, if his bright young
manhood is laid waste and desolate, was it,
could it be, right after all?
Her influence, her presence, had always
been a restraint upon him, and she had
denied him both—cast him out to the fire
of temptations, the recklessness of despair.
It was a horrible thought ; no one knows
how horrible save a woman whose soul is
lure, whose heart is passionate, who sees
the life she loves and fain would bless, pass " Too sudden to be much good," she says,
out and away frorn her keeping, and knows as they discuss the event that evening at
that it is beyond her power to recall or dinner. "Though she's been spoons on
claim its fidelity ; who sees it lose itself in him for ever so long."
evil, and seek forgetfulness in wild and "She's awfully pretty," remarks Sir
feverish excitements,' and knows that a Francis. " Why shouldn't he care for
her ?"
Lauraine does the same. There is a little
bustle, a little laughter, a chatter of ton-
gues, and then Lauraine finds herself with
Keith Atheistone, instead of Mrs. Brad-
shaw Woollffe, by her side.
It is impossible to avoid shaking hands
with him now, and she does so. Neither
of them speaks, however ; but the con-
straint is not noticed by the rest of the
party, for the horses are coming out of the
enclosure now, and every eye turns to the
starting point.
Aldebert wins the race ; but to Lauraine
everything seems confused and indistinct,
and in comparison with Lady Jean's ex-
citement and delight at Sir Francis' success,
her own manner seems strangely cold and
unconcerned.. Amidst the hubbub and ex-
citement, the noise of voices and shouts of
congratulation, Keith bends nearer to Laur-
aine.
" I have some news that will please you,
I hope," he says. " I am going to marry
Nan, as you advised me."
For one startled instant Lauraine is quite
unable to speak or move. She feels the hot
blood surging to her brain ; she turns dizzy
and faint. But the importance of self -com-
mand is present to her mind. She forces
herself to appear as little moved as possible.
Her voice is perfectly calm as she says
"I am glad to hear it. Pray accept my
congrat'ulations."
And then Sir Francis joins them, and
there are more congratulations and a great
deal of noise and excitement, and Mrs. Brad-
shaw Woollffe and her party leave the stand
and go down to the pretty racecourse, and
Lauraine sees Keith by the side of Miss
Anastasia J. Jefferson, and wonders is she
dreaming—is all this real ? For her the gay
scene is altogether dull and wearisome.
Turn where she will, look where she may,
she only sees that haggard young face,
only hears the shrill, ringing laugh of the
pretty American, whom every one calls
" Dresden China," and who looks like a
dainty little Watteau shepherdess in her
flowered silk costume and big hat, and pied
up sunny curls.
Long before the close of that day the
news is on every tongue, The young
millionaire is going to marry " Dresden
China," and Lady Jean looks maliciously at
Lauraine, and laughs and nods her head
mysteriously, saying she'll believe it when
she sees it.
word, one little word might have held it
back and kept it safe and unharmed.
"I must not think of it, I must not," she
Bays to herself in passionate scorn ; and she
looks up from the tangled crewels andtries
to interest herself in Mrs. Bradshaw
Woollffe's gossip, and promises to drive
with her in the Lichtenthal Allee, forgetful
of Lady Jean's disgust.
" Well, I'll'go," says her loquacious friend
at last. " Guess I've got heaps of shopping
to do this morning, and Nan will be that
cross for keeping her waiting ! Good-bye,
my dear ; good-bye. Hope I haven't tired
you. Four o'clock then." The door closes ; Lauraine is alone. She
sinks wearily back •
in her chair. The silks
and canvas fall unheeded to the floor. She
is afraid of this new pain that has come to
her—this jealous hatred and horror of the
woman who is holding Keith in her evil
bondage. Her strength seems all fled. The
long, empty, colourless days that stretch
before her, that have to be lived through,
look doubly dreary in this hour. " I
thought the worst bitterness of my cup
had passed my lips," she moans. " I had
not thought ot this."
Her husband had asked her carelessly
about Keith, and she had spoken of that
brief meeting in the Tyrolean valley. Sir
Francis had not heard of his being at Baden
at all.
A sort of dread comes over her as she
thinks of the chance of other meetings, of
the added pain that each fresh account of his
actions may bring her. He had, indeed,
known how to make her suffer, and the suf-
fering could have no anodyne now.
With a violent effort she calms herself at
last. Her hours of so solitude are few, and
she must appear her usual calm, grave self
to the friends who are about and with her
daily life. They see no change in her to-
day. Even Lady Jean's sharp eyes detect
no difference ; but the laughter, the chat -
'ter, the gay banter, the naughty stories, all
seem dull and far-off to her ears. She
marvels whether these men' and women
have hearts to feel, or souls to suffer ?
It is the day of the race. A day warm
' and brilliant with sunshine, cooled by a
fresh soft breeze, that brings all the scents
Of -the pine forests in its breath, and stirs
the fluttering laces and ribbons of the wom-
en's toilettes, and the waving flags that
stream from the Pavilion and the Grand
Stand and other points of vantage.
Lady Jean and her husband, Sir Francis
and Lauraine, come in the same carriage.
-As the ladies descend and sweep along the
pretty grass -covered course tbey come face
to face with Mrs. Bradshaw Woollffe, her
=ice, and Keith Athelstone
Lady Jean's presence gives Lauraine
fair excuse. They only exchange bows and
Pass on. She marvels that she feels so
calm, that neither flush nor pallor betrays
what the sight ot that young, haggard,
weary faro_ is to her. She is annoyed
to see him here, having heard no word from
his staunch ally. Afraid of a second meet-
ing, she begs her husband to take her to her
seat. - Lady Jean grumbles, but the men
are eager to be off to the enclosure, where
the hero of the day, Aldebert, 'is calmly
awaiting the important moment when he is
to_make or -mai the fortunes of those who
trust and supptdrt him.
You have -no -bets on ?" says Lady Jean
to Lauraine, as they sit _side by side, and
survey the glittering scene, all life and
Wit and colour nova:
" No, not even a solitary pair of gloves,'
smiles Lauraine. " To tell you the truth,
I: never thought about it. Betting seems
Stupid—"
e Youapear to think most things stupid
the oth women do," says Lady Jean,
tam e haws great,Adeal more than
'gloves -04;14s race, and Lauraine's speech
annoys her. `"Good gracious ! here comes
fiat awful- woman again. Lauraine you
must, change Flares ; let me get on your
other side. I should positively die if I had
Web next her foe a quarter of an hour."
rises impulsively, from her seat.
"No reason why he shouldn't. I only say
he doesn't," answers Lady Jean.
" So much the better," says an attache to
the Austrian Legation, who makes one of
the party. " Love matches are a mistake.
Never yet knew one turn out well.
" Poor Keith," says Lady Jane. " Fancy
tied to those dreadful people. Her father
sold rum and mn]asses, didn't he, in New
Orleans ; and slie says ' guess,' and 'spry,'
and ' cunning.' And then—the aunt "
" I don't think their colloquisms are
worse than our slang," says Lauraine.
coldly.
" Oh, I know you are enthusiastic on
American subjects," say Lady Jean mean-
inly. "I beg your pardon fcr my remarks."
" There is no necessity," Lauraine an-
swers, looking her with calm surprise.
"You are of course at liberty to express.
your opinion. I know you dislike Mrs.
Woollffe, and of course you are not bound
to acknowledge her niece—"
"As Mrs. Athelstone," interrupts Lady
Jean. " No, I suppose not—only for Keith's
sake—"
She paases. Lauraine feels the colour
mounting to her brow, There is something
so irritating in the patronage end she knows
that Lady Jean is about the last person
who ought to talk of a mesalliance.
" I thought you said just now that she
would never be that," she says very cold-
ly. " Your words and opinions seem some-
what inconsistent."
I shall be very much. surprised if she
ever is," responds Lady Jean. " All the
same-, one ought to prepare for the worst."
Good-humored as is her speech, light as
is her laughter, Lauraine feels that there is
a covert meaning is both.
She would have known she was right
could she have heard the conversation be-
tween Sir Francis and herself later on that
evening. After the fatigue of the drive to
Iffezheim and the excitement of the races
the whole party profess to be too tired
for anything but a quiet evening of " loo,"
mingled with music and gossip and cigar-
ettes.
Then Sir Francis saunters over to where
Lady Jean sits—her dark, picturesque
beauty looking its befit in the mellow lamp-
light.
"What did you mean to -night by your
remarks about young Athelstone?" he asks,
abruptly.
Lady Jean gives him one quick glance of
her flashing eyes.
"Mean? nothing, of course. What
should I mean ?"
"That's just what I want to know. You
don't think he cares for this girl ?"
"Not the value of a brass farthing !"
"But you think—!"
"My dear old donkey, I think— of course
I think. I keep my eyes open, which you
don't. I know a little sum in arithmetic
called two and two, which you, I daresay,
have long forgotten. That is alt."
" I wish I knew what you were driving
at," mutters Sir Francis, sulkily.
" What should I be 'driving at' ?" asks
Lady Jean, innocently. " Only when a
young man has been eutirely devoted to one
woman, and then without rhyme or reason
suddenly proposes to another for whom he
doesn't care a straw, then -well the little
sum in arithmetic comes in useful That is
all."
Sir .Francis looks at her half in anger,
half in perplexity. _
That's the devil of women," he says
with impatience. "They hint and hint, and
wo.Ia'tspeak out." . _
And that's the—ahem—of men," laughs
Lady Jean. " They see, and 'see, and re-
main so blind — ' -
"s I have seen nothing."—
"So
othing."_"So much the better foryou.',!- says -Lady
Jean, with a shrug of her -handsome show
ers. " Ydti might have been annoyed, or
uncomfortable-;' most -likely the latter.
You have not my secret of taking things
lightly. ,Now, if I saw you making lave
ander my very eyes I should only be
amused, or think what bad taste you had
to prefer any other woman to me. On se
console toujours, mon arni. You do it one
way, Lauraine another, I another. But I
suppose we each have our own views on the
subject of the consolation, or—consoler !"
And she laughs again : soft, amused,
pleasant laughter, that seems to hold no.
malice, to be the outspring of no evil
thought.
And all the time her heart is full of both.
For, as virtue shames vice, and purity
shows up the grosser contrast of immorality,
so she feels ashamed and rebuked by the
words and presence of Lauraine. "If ever
two people loved, they love," she had said
to herself that past season ; and now it had
all come to nothing. There was no hold
over Lauraine; no petite histoire, nothing to
smile and sneer at,.
" If she had only compromised herself
ever so Iittle," she thinks to -night as she
looks at the lovely calm face, the grave
dark eyes. - " And now the projected mar-
riage. It is awfully queer. if she bad
been like other women—'
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
Separating Cream.
The Orange Judd Farmer knows of but two
good ways to cream milk, one by deep set-
ting in cold water, the other by using a
separator. A writer in a so-called Agricul-
tural paper published in Chicago, a paper
with no dairy editor and therefore apt to
do great harm by recommending wrong
methods of dairying, lightly brushes aside
these two approved methods and lauds a
third. He says the butter made by sub-
merged deep setting •' lacks delicacy of
flavor and is readily detected." As for the
separators, he says " they not only require
nice adjustment and mechanical ability to
operate, but money to buy them." And
so he praises his methods, " which is fast
coming into use whatever it is known, is
very simple and inexpensive, a saving of
time and labor, and very easily demonstrat-
ed, as it can be tried without expense by
anyone who has the milk and the can."
This is all lovely to read until we
note the method. Here it is : " The
milk warm from the cow is strain-
ed into a can until it is half filled,
then the can is filled up with cold spring or
well water, which aerates the milk and
immediately reduces its temperature to
about 70 ° even in the warmest of weather.
All the cream will separate and rise to the
surface in less than four hours. The com-
bined milk and water is drawn by a faucet
from the bottom of the can till the cream
appears, which is then drawn into a separ-
ate vessel. As the cream is separated in
less than four hours, the can or cans used
for the morning's milk are ready to be used
for the night's milk. All that need go into
the house is the cream, thus lightening the
labor there. The diluted skim -milk is fed
to the pigs, the butter fat extracted from it
being replaced by the cheaper fat in corn-
meal in such proportions as are needed to
feed the growing or fattening stock. No
time is lost—no labor by the dilution pro-
cess. As soon as the milk is mixed with
water the separation is going on naturally
while the farmer i.sattending to other duties.
In four hours, or even less, the cream can
be taken. This quick, inexpensive pro-
cess, requiring no ice, even in the warmest
weather, enables the fanner to convert his rushed in to hold a gap in the line. The,
cream into butter at home without the ex- dead and wounded lie just as they fell—five
pease of carrying or having it carried to the dead to one wounded. The enemy used
creamery. It also enables farmers supply- grape and canister from a battery planted
ing the markets to maintain a fair price. for on that ridge, and the missiles did terrible
their milk. They can manufacture it into execution. Hence along the breastwork the
butter for a time and reduce the quantity troops were lying down and fire 1 from that
of milk sent to the market until it will position. Nearly ever y dead man still rests
command a fair price. The farmers can at full length on his stomach, though their
control the price of milk if they wish, in- faces seem halt buried in the grass. Many
stead of the contractors dictating what they of the muskets still rest across the breast -
shall take." Our co.nment on the above is works. Here for 300 -feet we cannot find a
sufficient. It is all bosh. Under special wounded man. Most of the dead were_
circumstancesit may be advisable to dilute struck in the face or throat.
the milk of a "stripper" which gives milk With his back to the wall sits a dead
so glutinous that it cannot be creamed by man who probably lived an hour or two
setting entire, but as a practice milk dil- after he was hit. His knees are drawn up
ution is nonsense. It is not a new method for a rest for his arms, and his head is thus
just coining into use. It has been recom- supported. Next on his left is a captain
mended repeatedly by cranks and repeat- lying on his back with his outstretched
edlyexploded by Experiment Stations. It right arm still holding the sword, and that
hurts the milk for feeding purposes and it sword rests across the body of another dead
wastes butter fat. man. The officer was struck fairly between
the eyes by the bullet. His lips are parted
as if shouting a command when death came.
We hesitate for a moment and then step
When the typhoid epidemic was at its over the breastworks and advance to the
height, when cases were being reported creek. At this spot it was midway between
daily and everybody expected that there the combatants. Night before last friend
would be many deaths from the disease,one and foe filled their canteens here, sometimes
local flower firm decided to make a specula- elbow to elbow, but purposely ignoring
tion on death. It was figured out that each other's presence. Here is the horror
there would be an unusual number of deaths of the battle field. Ve knew it would be
and that this would cause a demand for an so, but were impelled to come.
unusual number of floral pieces. In the RIVERS OF BLOOD.
manufacture of floral pieces moss is an abso- The banks of the creek are nowhere less
lute necessity, and the peculiar kind that is than two feet high ; in some places they are
used comes from Oregon -and Washington. five or six. The head of the stream is six
The firm in question thought to make a or eight feet wide, but the flow ot the water
speculation by ordering a quantity of this only half That, and from six inches to a foot
moss early and running a corner in it. The deep. On a front of half a mile all the
moss has arrived and has been placed in wounded on both sides who could ereep or
storage. But out of all the cases of typhoid pull themselves along inch by inch made for
fever the deaths have numbered less than this creek as the fighting ceased. They
twenty-five, and there is one firm that has reached the banks and flung themselves
moss enough on hand for several years. — down. They filled the bed. from bank to
[San Francisco Examiner. bank, lying three, four or five deep. Here
and there may be a living man,but nineteen
out of twenty perished last night. They
fought each other for the water, but only
the first comers quenched their thirst. Be-
fore they could move away they were caught
in the crush. It is a great trench, with its
dead ready for the dirt to hide them, and
the waters of the creek have been dammed
bask until they are seeking a new outlet
through the cotton field. Help arrives and
we walk slowly along the bank to look for
wounded men. We find and extricate
about twenty, none of whom will, perhaps,
live the day out. All others are dead—
shot, crushed, drowned—almost 1,000 by
the returns of the burial party. It is al-
most night before thecreek flows on in its
old bed again, but even our thirsty horses
will not drink of the waters running red.
They sniff at it and turn away with wild
eyes and snorts of alarm.
AFTER THE BATTLE.
Horrors of the Field of Carnage Mier the
Fighting Has Ceased.
Only those cosnnanding corps and divie
sions have posts from which to survey a
battle -field while the fight is on. If the
fighting is furious all along the lines even
the general in command may not be able to
take in over half a mile in front. One c'ay
have been in a dozen battles without wit-
nessing more than the maneuvers of a bri-
gade.` Battles usually end M withdrawal
and pursuit. In either case nearly all the
troops on both sides are set in motion, and
so men who have been fighting all day march
away and see only the dead and wounded
in their front. But very few wounded are
brought in by night, and the dead can wait
for the sunto rise. To move about on the
field at night is to take your life in your
hand. There are ghouls robbing the dead
who will fire upon you, and there are wound-
ed Hien who will treat you as a foe. There
are riderless horses galloping about, while
others, maddened with the pain of wounds
will rush at you open-mouthed from the
darkness.
It is when morning comes again that
those left behind to bring in the wounded,
bury the dead, and collect the equipments
scattered over miles of ground perhaps, can
see and fully realize how fierce and deadly
the fighting was. The dead are not all on
the battle lines. Here where the reserves
were posted, a mile in the rear,are the first
of them. They have been killed by solid
shot or bursting shells. They are lying in
heaps and in nearly every case the face is
covered by poncho or blanket. Down this
front of a mile in length we find a dead man
here and there as we advance, sometimes
two or three together, but there are no
wounded. They were removed under fire.
Half a mile in the rear of the battle line we
come upon the first of the men killed by
musket fire. They were not really under
fire, but acting as supports, and yet the
ranks lost heavily.
POSITION OF THE BODIES.
It is curious to note the positions of the
dead where the bodies have not been inter
fered with. Nine out of ten are lying broad
on their backs with arms outstretched.
Their feet are pointed all around the com-
pass, but more of them lie with their heads
to the east than in any other direction. The
men shot in the head are lying at fall length
those below the neck have one Ieg drawn
up and their fingers are clenched. There
is not on any face what you.call a look of
pain or anguish and neither do you find
smiles or placidity. Look into the faces of
100 men killed in batthyand you will find
the same general expression, whether old or
young. It is a look of surprise and fear.
This look rests on the faces of men killed in
their tracks, as it were. The mortally
wounded man may turn on his side to die,
and you may find him with a smile on his
face. He has had time to breathe a prayer;
to think of wife and children and home ; to
realize that his time has come.
The battle line runs across a highway,
over an old cotton field, across a meadow,
and into the woods. The men made breast-
works of rails and dirt. At one spot they
had the cover of a stone wall, at another
the banks of a winding creek. Isere was
where a brigade without the slightest cover
A Speculation on Death,
Duty.
The camp -fire dimly burns
Through the night andthe snow,
And 'over a frozen earth
The wild windy blow.
But the sentinel stands at his post
As the hour.3 creep by,
While clouds grow heavy and thick
In the sullen sky.
His limbs drag hard, helongs
To rest awhile;
Yet over his white. cold lips
Comes never a smile.
For his heart is a soldier's heart,
And his blood runs warm
When he tbin's of his brother -men
Asleep in the storm.
Then he shoulders his gun and draws
A quick, deep breath;
What foeman shall conquer him now
But the foeman Death !
—[George Edgar Montgomery:
Mother v. Father.
Fond Mother (listening to baby's cries)—
What sweet -toned vo ce she - has, dear ?
She'll be a splendid singer. We must send
her to Italy and have her voice cultivated.
Brutal Father (trying to sleep) —Send her
now.
Do not alibi weeds to grow up and seed
among the potatoes after they are ripe. A
few weeds often produce many hundred
seed which it will require extra work later
to destroy.- - - .e -
Famine and Cannibalism.
News received from Leong Kong states
that a famine is raging in the Chineseprov-
inee of Shansi. Children arebeingsold
by their parents for two dollars each.
Thousands fall down by the way -side of
exhaustion: The - survivors hack flesh off
the bodies of the dead' and devour it like
famished wolves. Three attempts have
been made to fire the Italian Catholic
Mission, and the feeling against foreigners
is -very bitter.
Photography on marble has been accom-
plished by a Londor p,a:at
-
1 STEERAGE DID NUT SUIT.
Story of Discomfort on an Ocean Liner.
The steerage of an ocean liner can never
be made quite so comfortable as home.
" But," said five respeetableyoung`English-
men in substance to the Rev. Mr. Renaud,
immigration chaplain at Montreal, " we
draw the line at drinking bilge water, and
eating rotten herrings." -
These young men told a distressing story
of hardship endured upon a certain trans-
atlantic steamer, upon which they carne out
as steerage passengers. The tea was made
of bilge water. There was neither sugar
nor milk. They were told that their berths
would be on the cabin deck. They were
put in the hold, upon a lot of frowsy shav-
ings, to herd for fourteen days with foreign-
ers who never washed themselves, who ate
rotten herrings with their fingers, and slept
with them under their pillows ; who made
private conveniences of their bunks, which
caused an insupportable stench for a fort-
night. These five men took off their clothes
for the first time last night s nce they left
L+' r gland.
"And why did you come out by this line ?"
asked ti:e Rev. Mr. Renaud. The answer
was—first, because it was cheap ; second,
because the agent promised better treat-
ment than the English lines, as this boat
carried only steerage passengers, who would
thus be waited upon better than if there were
three sets of passengers ; third, because they
were sole in promised that the moment
they landed the agent would have situations
for them.
" And is it possible that people in England
belie ved these lies ?" M r. Renaud asked.
" Everybody believes it," was the answer.
"But there was no agent to obtain us
employment, and we can't find it at our
trade by the most diligent searching."
" This is one of the greatest cruelties of
the immigration business," was the com-
ment of Mr. Renaud. "These agents go up
and down the country lying to the people
right and left. They promise them every-
thing and they !Hake not the slightest effort
to procure them anything. It is a thousand
pities that no way could be found of reach-
ing and punishing them. Of course, it is
an old story with us, but it is too bad that
it could not be generally known in the Old
Country that no reliance could be placed in
the stories of the agents. Canada is a good
country, and no doubt these respectable
young men will be all right in a short time,
although it is laborers rather than artisans
we want ; but it is too bad that they should
have been deceived."
" And about this immigration business
generally," continued Mr. Renaud ; "I find
that we have to make the closest scrutiny
into the characters of some who come out.
I refer more particularly to young girls who
find their way into our homes, and have a
good deal to do with the bringing up of our
boys and girls. On the whole, they are
fairly respectable this season, but there are
black sheep amongst them. The societies
on the other side, no matter what inquiries
they make, are now and then deceived.
No complaint could be made about a per-
son who, having committed a wrong, was
sorry for the wrong, and came out deter-
mined to do better. Not at all. Such per-
sons deserve every encouragement. But
then, when not only has the life been wrong
in England, but continues to be wrong here
what are you to do? There were some cases
not long ago where several young girls, ap-
parently good, got nice situations in town.
They had an excellent chance with some of
our best ladies, but it was found that they
were pursuing bad courses. I had to in-
vestigate two of the cases, and found a
state of things which could hardly be cred-
ited. In England it was had. Here it
was worse. One of them promised earnest-
ly to amend and begged for a chance, which
was given her, but the other I sent right a
home again. We do not want such people
in our families. I do not blame the socte•
theother side so much as the per-
sonson he p
sons who, in the first instance, recommend
such persons to the societies."
Substitute for Glass.
The substitute for glass, brought to
notice some time ago by a manufacturer in
Vienna, Austria, observes a writer in the
New York Sun, is pronounced a practical
thing, likely to be introduced as valuable
for certain purposes. The article is produc-
ed by dissolving from four to eight parts of
collodion wool in about 100 parts by weight
of ether or alcohol or acetic ether, and with
this are intimately combined from 2 to 4
per cent. of eastoroil and 4 to 10 per cent.
of resin or Canadian balsam. This com-
pound when poured upon a glass plate and
subjected to the drying action of a current
of air about 50 per cent. solidifies in a com-
paratively short time into a transparent glass-
like sheet or plate, the thickness of which
may be regulated as regaired. The sheet
or plate so obtained has substantially the
same properties as glass, resisting the action
of salts and alkalies, and of dilute acids,
and, like glass, is transparent and has no
smell. Again, it is said to be pliable or
flexible and infrangible to a great degree,
while its inflammability is much leas than
that of the collodion substitutes. Any de-
sired color may be imparted to the com-
pound by admixture of the necessary pig -
m ent, the latter to be soluble in the solvent
used in the preparation of the compound if
incorporated therewith ; but color may be
imparted by surface application, anniline
dyes being employed, and thus the sheets
may be used in lieu of stained glass.
Antiquity of liot-Air. 131ast-
If a recent theory be correct the hot-air
blast for iron furnaces, patented by Niel-
son in 1828, was known in Southern Pale-
stine 1400 years before Christ. In the Tel
el Hesy mounds have been found the re-
mains of eight successive towns of dates
from 1500 to500 B. C. The most important
object attained from the moundis a cunei-
form tablet, the first record of pre-Israelit-
ish Canaan yet yielded up by the soil of
Palestine ; but another discovery of great
interest is an iron blast furnace, whose
arrangement is believed by Mr. Bliss to
indicate a design to heat the blast of out-
side air before introduction. This may be
another exemplification of the adage,
"there is nothing new under the suu. "—[Iuw
vention.
Ancomaroa,-Peru, is 16,000 feet above -
the sea, and the highest inhabited spot in
the world.
The value of a principle is in the number
of things it will explain; and .there is no
good theory of a disease which doesnotat
once suggest a cans.
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&talk wi
one recei
the mons
rec::ive i
ordinary
acres of 1
1 e',i ,ve
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iters;
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ing st
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and
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