Millheim Journal. (Millheim, Pa.) 1876-1984, September 22, 1881, Image 1
VOL. LV. HARTER, AUCTIONEER, REBERSBURG. PA. J C. SPRINGER. Fashionable Barber. Next Door to Journal Store, Millheih, Pa. HOUSE, (Opposite Court House.) 11. BROCKERHOFF, Proprietor. >Vm. McKkkvkk, Manager. Gohl sample rooms on first floor. Free bus to and from all trains. Special rates to jurors and witnesses. Strictly First Class. IRVIN HOUSE. (Most Central Hotel In the CltyJ Corner MAIN and JAY Streets, Lock naven, Pa. S. WOODS CALWKLL, Proprietor. Good Sample Rooms for Commercial Travelers on first floor. * £) K - D. H. MINGLE, Physician and Surgeon. MAIN Street, Millheim, Pa. ry* JOHN F. HARTER, PRACTICAL DENTIST, Office in 2d story of Totnlinsou's Gro cery Store, On MAIN Street, Millheim, Pa. a T. Alexander. C. M. Bower. ATTORNEYS AT LAW. BBLLEFONTE, PA. Office In G&rman's new building. JOHN B. LINN, ATTORNEY AT LAW. BELLEFOXTB, PA. Office on Allegheny Street. QLEMENT DALE, ATTORNEY AT LAW. BELLEFONTE, PA. Northwest corner of Diamond. Y°CUM & HASTINGS, ATTORNEYS AT LAW. BELLEFONTE, PA. High Street, opposite First National Bank. M * c - HEINLE, ATTORNEY AT LA W. BELLEFONTE, PA. Practices In all the courts of Centre County. Spec al attention to CoUecUons. Consultations in Qerinan or English. ILBUR f - KEEDER, ATTORNEY AT LAW, BELLEFONTE, PA. All bus'ness promptly attended to. Collection of claims a speciality. J. A. Braver. J w. Gephart. JgEAVER & GEPHART, ATTORNEYS AT LAW, BELLEFONTE, PA. Offlce on Alleghany Street, North of High. A. MORRISON, ATTORNEY AT LAW, BELLEFONTE, PA. Office on Woodrlng's Block, Opposite Court Bouse. JQ S. KELLER, ATTORNEY AT LAW, BELLEFONTE, PA, Consultations In English or German. Office in Lyon' J Building, Allegheny Street. JOHN G. LOVE, ATTORNEY AT LAW, BELLEFONTE, PA. Office in the rooms formerly occupied by the late w. p. Wilson. ADVERTISE IN THE Millheim Journal. R ATES ON APPLICATION. lie pitlleiii iniriul BY THK BANK.B OF TIIK MOHAWR. O dark rolling river, so rapid and free, You bring back the brightness of boylu>od to me, When gayly I wandered, aloug your wild shore. With oue 1 loved fondly, who loves tue uo more. By the banks of the Mohawk The eataraot'B roar, Where we wandered In childhood Along the wild shore. The song-birds have vanished; the summer Is o'er; The roses have faded that bloomed by her door ; The elms and the maples stand leafless and drear; The snowflakes are falling; the Winter Is here. By the banks of the Mohawk The cataract's roar, Where we wandered tu childhood Along the wild shore. The hopes of her girlhtod have flown far away; Her bright auburn tresees are faded and gray; Her beauty has vanished; her features, once fair Are saddened by sorrow and furrowed by care. Bv the banks of the Mohawk The cataract's roar, \\ here we wandered in chlldlbHHl Along the wild shore. our childhood is gone; we are drifting to-day. Like leaves on the river, forever away, \V are leaving the years; we are nearlng the shore Where storms never beat and no cataracts roar. By the banks of the Mohawk The waters may roar Forever and ever Along the wild shore". A DRKADITL CASE. "Goius!" ho exel imod.tho expression of his countenance changing from that of the reflective sage, I was going to sav, to one that was almost miserly. 44 Ah, now you talk of something I un derstand. They are not watching us, are tlicv?" he hroke oA,looking nervous ly in the direction of the house. 4 'Xo, no," said I, with subdued ex citement, wondering whrt was to hap pen next. He deliberately uubuttoned his long ulster coat, shivered in the cold winter air as he did so, then he l>egan to fum ble at a belt which he wore. Several diamonds of great value, as I judged, in a moment more sparkled before my as tonished eyes. He had apparently drawn them from a little leather pocket, curi ously concealed beneath this belt. 44 Ah! those are gems, if you like, sir, " he exclaimed, with an exulting chuckle, which brought to my mind the impres sion created at our first interview, that he was not quite right in his head. 4 'They are splendid," I said, "but why do you carry them about with you? Suppose any one, dishonestly inclined, were to learn that an elderly man had property of such value upon him? The thought of it makes me tremble, sir." "I am not in the habit of exhibiting the treasures which it has taken my life time to amass. I dare not. But I trust you, sir.'' As a man of busiuess I thought there was here another proof of mental weak ness, in the fact that he should confide in one of whose antecedents he knew nothing, and of whose honesty he had no further proof than a love of nature might suggest. But I chanced at tliis moment to look up at the first floor window of our neigh bor's house; and there, watching with a strange and, as I thought, scornful smile, stood the tall, shallow man of whom both mv wife's and my own im pression was so distinctly unfavorable. I mentioned to the old man to put away his jewels, for the German servant was approaching again; most likely sent by her master. My strange acquaintance did not ap pear in the garden any more. I have an innate horror of eavesdrop ping, and, as I have repeatedly said to my dear wife, whose feminine curiosity tempts her to attach far too little atten tion to this evil. 4 'Conversation not in tended for her ears ought to be regarded with the same feelings as a letter not written for her perusal. She would feel deeply insulted did any one suggest that she would be capable of reading another person's letter simply because the seal happened to be broken, and could there fore do so without the fear of detection." But women, alas! are never logical; and she will not see, or, perhaps cannot,that her conduct is no less culpable when she greedily listens to the private conversa tion of others, just because accident or carelessness on their psirt has placed her within earshot. Well, a few days after that we sat in our cheerful, cosy front parlor; we were sitting, I say, in our cosy parlor; my wife, with her knitting in her hands, on an ottoman, which was drawn close into a recess by the fire-place; I, in my good old arm chair,by the table in the middle of the room, and reading the last num ber of the Gardener'* Magazine. The entrance of Ami with our customary 44 night cap" of weak toddy and tlnn bread and butter, interrupted my study of an article on 4 'Trenching,"andcaused me to look up at my wife. '•Eavesdropping!" I was about to ex claim, when my speech was arrested by | observing the strange look of horror on Polly's face. She had dropped her knit ting, and sat with hands clasped across her breast, and head pressed closely against the wall. • 4 My dear girl, whatever is the matter with you?" I said. 44 0h! it is dreadful," she whispered, holding up her fingers to check me. 44 Pray come and hear what they are saying." Exalted though my principles were about listening, I could not resist the impulse of the moment, but hastily rose from my seat and placed my ear against the wall likewise. Ann Lightbody, too, forgetting our relative positions, drop MILLHEIM, PA., THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 22,1881. pod the tray of toddy on the table as if it were a hot coal, and rushed to the op posite side of the wantlepiece to imitate our example. To any one entering the room ut that moment the soouo present ed, must have been absurd beyond de scription. Hut we were earnest enough, for what wo heard seemed to freeze our very blood. "Is ho dead yet?" we heard Mrs. Maiden ask her husband, with a low, musical laugh that seemed to us like the mirth of a fiend. "Thoroughly," responded he in a deep voice,which betrayed uo sign of remorse or agitation; "your hint, tlmt I should dispose of him in his sloop, like Hamlet's uncle did his troublesome brother, was capital." There was silence for several minutes. Then we heard Mrs. Maiden ask grave ly, "What shall you do with the body?" "Oh, that is just the difficulty, As the neighbors must not have their sus picion roused,it must be buried at night and a report put about that the silly old man has gone into the country." "Oh, dear! there is the property to dispose of, is there not?" "Uncut diamonds tell no tale," said this >allow neighbor of mine,in his deep voice, laughing loudly. "Nothing could have lieen luckier than my witnessing that little scene l>etweou my uncle and our fat neighbor over the garden wall.' In an ordinary moment 1 should have felt keenly the insult conveyed in his remark, but my feelings were too highly wrought for it to touch me then. But Polly pressed niv hand and mur mured. "The horrid villain!" We listened painfully for several min utes more. We heard Maiden's wife heave a deep sigh. Sho was human, then. I had scarcely thought it. "I can't bear to think—it is too dread ful!" she said her voice trembling for the first time during the conversation. Again her hushauid laughed loudly, and said, in a theatrical toue, "What, my Lady Macbeth trembling! "Come, we'll go to sleep. We are yet young in deed." In 11 moment more we heard the din>r of the apartment closed. We throe sat and looked at each other—blanched and speechless with horror. Ann was the first to cover her pres ence of mind. 4 Shall I go and fetch the perlese, sir?" she said in a subdued voice. "Oh, don't leave me, Ann!" <*>bbod my poor wifp, yielding to her pent up emotions anil clasping our servant around the waist. This was the tirst time in her life that she had been so undignified. "You go, Jorum," she continued. Then a sudden fear geized her. "But we shall both be murdered while you are gone." The poor soul wrung her hands and began to laugh hysterically. I felt that everything depended upon my controlling my nervous system. Polly was beginning to get silly, and Ann might at any moment break down, too. I took out my pipe, and slowly tilled and lit it, in order both to steady myself and to impress these women with my self-command. "I'll telegraph to Chittick—that will be best," I said, after pacing the room once or twice. "You can't telegraph" to-night, sir; the office 'ull be shut," said the practi cal Ann. Mr. Chittick was an inspector in the detective force at Scotland Yard. After some iuternal debating I decided it would be better to wait till the morning and then telegraph than to go oft' to the local police station that night. I have often since wondered at my courage and calmness. The wife and servant seem ed to catch something of my spirit. We were unanimous that to go to bed was impossible, so Mrs. Frogg lay ou the sofa, Ann in the sofa chair, which we w heeled out of the next room, and I sat up iu my good arm chair prepared to watch the night through. Happily nothing transpired during that tedious night to create further alarm. In the morning when the post ma a called, I got him to take a tele graphic message, which simply urged my friend the inspector to come as early in the day as he possibly could, as 1 wanted to see him on business of a very pressing and extraordinary character. About noon he came. Not a soul had stirred from the neighboring house, and I had therefore the satisfaction of feel ing that the delay would not frustrate the ends of justice. When we were alone, I told the story of Mr. Lea's eccentric conduct; his dis appearance after his nephew had seen him show me the diamonds in the gar den; and finally the strange conversa tion we had overheard the night before. At first my friend was merely politely attentive; but, as I went on, he took out his note book and carefully wrote down the words we had overheard. He askod for particulars, too, of the appearance of Maiden and his wife, and of the mur dered man. "Do you know anything of the busi ness or profession of Maiden?" he then asked. I could only admit that on this point I was entirely in the dark. "But has not your maid learned any thing on this subject from your neigh bor's servant?" he inquired; "servants are always gossiping, you know," "The woxnau nu*t door is a foreigner —a German—l think." Inspector Chittick pursed up his mouth and tapped his note book with liis pencil. "That looks like a plan," he remarked after a moment's meditation. "That fact is the strongest point in the case. It seems as though it were designed that nothing should transpire through the clatter of servants." "Yet surely the real point is the con fession of murder which we overheard?" 1 urged deferentially. • 'That has to be proved," he replied. "In the meanwhile, I must compliment you on your shrewdness in sending for me in this quiet way. I shall at once t legraph for one of our men to stay with you here, and for another to be jiosted within a convenient distance of the house," Day after day passed and nothing transpired to clear up this w> story. At length, after an interval of nearly a fort night, we liad, for the first time, a com munication from Inspector Chittick in the shape of a telegram: "I have mode an unexpected and startling discovery in re Maiden. I will call tills afternoon, and hope to do busi ness. Maiden is at home; intends leav ing home to-morrow with wife and Ger man servant." I did not show this message to Polly, for I knew it would upset her. My nerves, too, were a little uustrung, ami I actually trembled when Ann ushered Mr. Chittick into the front room. After greeting me, he gravely took a news paper from his pocket and passed it to me. "Read that," said he, pointing to a portion marked at the top and bottom with ink. In a mechanical fashion I took the paper and began to read. It was part of an article on the "Magazines of the Month," and Tyburnia was the periodical, the criticism of which he had marked. It read; " Tyhurnia , as usual, is very strong in fiction. But it scarcely sustains its reputation by inserting the highly mel odramatic tale, "The Cap of Midas." The liero-villain of this story is a young Greek who is assistant to an aged dia mond merchant in .Syracuse." My heart began to bent as I read the first few words. "This young gentleman is fired by an ambition to play an important part in the political life erf Ae voicing Greek federation. To obtain weilth, and with it influence, he murders his aged mas ter for tin sake of certain priceless gems which the old fellow had concealed in a velvet nightcap he is in the habit of wearing. This is the ctp of Midas, we presume. Justin Corgialegno—the mur derer—ha<l read "Hamlet, *' and drops poison into his master's ear, and steals the nightcap. This poison, however, fails to do its work, so the assistant at once stabs the old man and begins to feel the first difficulties of his lot, name ly, how to dispose of the body of the murdered man." I hxiked up at Inspector Chittick sheepishly. A mocking smile lurked in the corners of his mouth, I thought. Well, the hero buries his master in the garden of his house and starts off with this cap, which contains the wealth that is to give liim political power. Here comes the melodramatic point of the story. The diamonds in this cap are of such enormous value that the murderer dare not attempt to sell them, feeling sure that inquiries will be made as to how lie became possessed of suoli precious gems. Tortured by fear and desperate with hunger, he at length commits suicide with his oap of Midas placed mockingly upon his own head. The story is ingenious in some of its parts, but is really, to speak plainly un worthy of the reputation of that pro mising young novelist, Mr. Ernest Mai den." "Mr. Ernest Maiden," I muttered va cantly, "a—a novelist!" Tba inspector rose from his chair and slapped me on the back, and poked me in the ribs, and shook nie by the shoul ders laughing the while with such tre mendous boisterousness that Mrs. Frogg and Ann burst into the room in a state of speechless amazement which I shall never forget. Their appearance gave gave the finishing touch of absurdity to the situation, and as the grotesquoness of the blunder which we had one and all made dawned upon me, I, too, began to laugh until the tears rolled down mv cheeks. "Polly," I gasped as soon as I could speak. "Mr. Maiden is a novelist, and oh ! such a vile murderer—on paper ! Ha, ha, ha ! oh, oh, he, he ! ha, ha, ha, ha!" We really nover saw poor old Mr. Lea again, for he died at Brighton of soften ing of the brain a few weeks after his nephew and niece joined him. Tlieir leaving town—referred to in the inspec tor's telegram—was with this object. The old gentleman, as wo afterwards learned, was taken away from next door in a cab one evening when wo must have been at the back of the house. Had we hut seen him go, we should have been spared a great deal of terror and many unjust suspicions of our neighbors' char acters. He that has no inclination to learn more, will be very apt to think he knows enough, A lUICU at Hvm. The Cunord steamship Partliia wan between 100 and 500 miles distant from the went coast of Ireland. For some hours a low barometer had given warn ing of a coming gale. The breeze was fresh 011 the port quarter, with a long following sea, over which, under the impulse of propeller and canvas, the beautifully moulded hull of the grcAt steamship rushed like a locomotive, ruisiug a roar of thunder at her bows and carving out the green, glass-clear water with her stem into two oil-smooth combers, which broke just abaft the fore-rigging and rushed with a swirl and brilliance of foam to join the long, glittering snow-line of the wake astern. There was a piebald sky, the blue in it tarnished and faint, and under it, like a scattering of brown smoke, the scud went floating swiftly. In the south and west the asjiect of the heavens was jKirtentous enough, with a leaden deiul ness of color and a line of horizon as sharply marked as a ruling in ink. The gale was evidently to come from this quarter ; and, sure enough, Iwiore eight bells in the afternoon watch, it was blowing a hurricane from the S. S. W. The fury of the wind raised a tremen dous sea. The Partliia ran for a time ; but running is not the remedy pre scribed to captains who are caught in a circular storm and shortly after 4 o'clock the helm of the steamer was put down and her head pointed to the seas. The passengers were below, considerably battened down by order of (.'aptain McKaye, the commander of the vessel, so that they should not l>e washed over board or drowned in the cabins, for now that the steamer's bow was pointed at the sea, she was one smother of froth from the eyes to the rudder-head. Her curtseyiug might have looked graceful at a distance, but it was a tremendous experience to those who had to keep time to her dance. Every now and again she would "dish" aw hole green sea forward—taking it in just as you would dip a pail into water—a sea that immediately turned the decks into a small raging ocean as high as a man's waist. As she rolled she shattered the furious tide against her bulwarks, where it broke into smoke and was swept away in clouds, like volumes of steam, for a whole cabin-length astern. The grind ing and straining of the hull, the hollow. mnfthil, vibratory note of the engines, the booming of the mighty surges against the resonant fabric, the screaming of the wind through the iron stiff, standing-rigging, and the enduring thunder of the tempoßt hurtling through the sky, completed to the ear the tre mendous scene of warfare submitted to the eye in the picture of black heavens and white waters, Mid struggling, smothered, goaded ship. The Partliia lay hove to for six hours. At 10 o'clock at night the gale broke, the wind sensibly moderated, the steamer was brought to her course and went rolling heavily over the immense and powerful sea swell which the cyclone had left behind it. Sunday morning came with a benediction in the shape of a warm, bright sun. But the swell was still exceedingly heavy. It was shortly after two bells (9 o'clock) when the lookout man reported a vessel aw ay on the lee bow, apparently hull down. As she was gradually hove up by the ap proach of the Partliia, those who had sailors' eyes in their heads perceived that she was a vessel in distress, and that if any human being* were aboard of her their plight would be miserable. She was water-logged, and so low in the water that she buried her bulwarks with every roll. She had all three masts standing, but her yards weie l>oxed about anyhow, her running rigging in bights, with ends of it trailing over board. Her canvas was rudely furled, but she had a fragment of a foretop-mast staysail hoisted, as well as a storm staysail, and she looked to he hove to. Her asi>ect, had she been encountered as a derelict, was mournful enough to have set a sailor musing for an hour ; but when it was discovered that there were living people on her she took an extraordinary and tragical significance. No colors were hoisted to express her ooudition; but then no colors were needful. Her story wanted no better telling than was found iu the suggestion of the small crowd of human heads on her deck watching the Partliia ; in the dull and steady lifting of the dark vol umes of water against her sides, in the gushing of clear cascade;: from her scupper-holes as she leaned weaiily over to the fold of the tall swell that threatened to overwhelm her, and in the sluggish waving of her naked spars under the sky. Twenty-two people could be counted aboard of her. All these had to be saved, but it was very well understood by everj man belonging to the Partliia that they could only be saved at the risk of the lives of the boat's crew that should put off for them; the swell was still violent to an extent beyond anything that can be conveyed in words. As the Parthia, with her propeller languidly revolving, sank into a hollow, a wall of water stood between her and the bark, and the ill-fated vessel became invisible, then in another mo ment hove high, the people on board the steamer could look down from their poized deck upon the half-drowned hull and the soaked, clinging and pale-faced crew an you look upon a housetop in a valley from the side of a hill. The serious danger lay in lowering a bout. But .Tuck is not of a deliberative turn of mind when something that ought to be done waits for him to do it. Volunteers were forthcoming. The order was given. Eight hands spravg aft and seated themselves in the lifel>oat, and the third officer, Mr. William Williams, took his place in the stern-sheets. It was one of those moments when the bravest mau in the world will hold his breath. There swung his bout's crew nt the devita ; the end of the fall in the hands of men waiting for the right second to lower away. One dark-green foamless swell, in whole, huge moun tains of water, r<ise and sank below ; too much hurry, the least delay, any lack of coolness, of judgment, of per ception of exactly the right thing to do, ami it was a hundred to one if the next minute did not see the boat dashed into staves and her crew squattering and drowning among the fragments. The duo command was coolly given; the sheaves of the fall-blocks rattled on their pins and the boat sank down to the water's edge. A vast swell hove her high, almost to the level of the sjxit where she had been hanging, and as quick as mortal hands can move the blocks were unhooked—but only just in time. Then a strong shove drove her clear, and in a moment she was h calling for the wreck—now vanishing as though she had been wholly swallowed up by the tall, green, sparkling ridge that rose between her and the steamer, then tossed like a cork uixm a mountainous pinnacle, with keel out of water. She had lieen well stocked with lines and life-buoys, for it was clearly seen that the fiouring waters would never permit her to come within a pistol-shot of the bark, and the suspense among the passengers amounted to an agony as they wondered within themselves how those sailors would rescue the f>oor creatures who had watched them from the foamy decks of the almost submerged wTeck. They followed the boat vanish ing and reap}icaring, the ver .v pulsation of their hearts almost arrested at mo ments when the little craft made a head long, giddy swoop into a prodigious hollow and was lost to view, until pre sently they perceived that the men had ceased to row. It was then seen that the third mate was hailing the crew of the bark. Presently tliey saw one of the shipwrecked sailors heave a coil of line towards the boat; it was caught, a life-buoy bent on to it and hauled aboard the wreck. To this life-buoy was attached a second line, the end of which was retained by the people in the boat. One of the men on the wreck put the life buoy over his shoulders and in an instant dung himself into the sea, and was dragged smartly but carefully into the boat. The Parthia's passengers now understood how the men were to be saved. One by one the ship-wrecked seamen lea!ed into the water, until eleven of them had been dragged into the Parthia's boat. The number made a load, and with a cheery call to those who were to be left behind for a short while. Mr. Williams headed for the steamer. The deep boat approached the Parthia slowly; but, meanwhile Captain McKaye's foresight had provided for the perilous and difficult job of get ting the rescued men on board the steamer. A whip was rove at the fore yardarm, under which the rising and falling boat was stationed by means of her oars, one end of the whip knotted into a bow-line was overhauled into the boat and slipped over the shoulders of a man, and at a signal a dozen or more of the Parthia's crew ran him up and swayed him in. In this way the eleven men were safely landed on the deck of the steamer. The boat then returned to the wreck, the rest of the crew were dragged from her by means of the buoys and life-linea, and hoisted, along with six of the Parthia's men, out of the boat by the yardarni whip. But not yet was this perilous and nobly-executed mission completed. There was still the boat to run up to the davits. All the old fears reoccurred as she was brought alongside with Mr. Williams and two men in her. But jack has a marvellously quick hand and a steady pulse. The blocks were swiftly hooked into the boat, and soon she soared like a bird in the davits under the strong running pull of a number of men before the swell that followed her could rise to the height of the chain plates. To appreciate the pathos and pluck of an adventure of this kind, a man must have served as a spectator or actor in some such a scene. Words have but little virtue when deeds are to be told whose moving powers and ennobling inspirations lie in a performance that may as fitly be described in one as in a hundred lines. SUQII as remember the faces of those shipwrecked Englishmen and Canadians, the aspect of them as they were hoisted, one by one, over the Parthia's side ; the bewildered rolling of their eyes incredulous of their miracu lous preservation; their expression of suffering slowly yielding to perception of the new lease of life mercifully ac corded them, graciously and nobly earned for them; their streaming gar ments, their hair clotted like seaweed upon their pale foreheads ; the passion ate pressing forward of the crew and passengers of the Parthia to rejoice with the poor fellows over their salvation from one of the most lamentable dooms to which the sea can sentence, will wonder at the insufficiency of this record of as brilliant and hearty, though simple, a deed as any which makes up the stirring annals of the maritime life. The Presidential Cold Air Machine. The apparatus which proved most satisfactory in cooling the chamber of the wounded President was furnished by a Mr. Jennings, ot Baltimore. It was devised for use in a new process of re fining lard. According to the inventor's description, the apparatus consists of a cast iron chamber, about ten feet long and three wide and three high, filled with vertical iron frames covered with cotton terry or Turkish toweling. These screens are placed half an inch apart, and represent some three thousand feet of cooling surface. Immediately over these vertical screens is placed a coil of inch iron pipe, the lower side of which is filled with fine perforations. Into a galvanized iron tank, holding 100 gal lons of water, is put finely granulated or shaved ice (and salt when a low tempera ture is required.) This water is sprayed upon the sheets in the lower tank con stantly. In each end of the iron cham- IHT are openings thirteen inches square. To the outer end of this chamber is a pipe connecting with an outdoor air conductor. To the opposite end is con nected a similar pipe leading into an ice chamber at its top, and from the bot tom of the same a pipe leads to a small exhaust fan, and from the fan the now cold and dry air is forced direct into the President's room through a flue some twenty feet in length, Air at 99 degrees temperature to day is supplied at the rate of 22,000 cubic feet per hour at the register in the President's room at 54 degrees, and with the windows and doora open the temi>erature at the President's bed (twenty-five feet away) is maintained steadily at 75 degrees day and night. When the cold air machine was intro duced it was intended to keep the win dows and doors closed, and under these conditions the machine would create and maintain a temperature of 60 degrees in the hottest weather without using the auxiliary ice-air chamber now used, which was the suggestion of Professor Xewcomb and Major Powell,to meet the requirements of cooling the room with the doors and windows open. The clos ing of them gave the room an air of gloom. Gan lrom Castor OU. At the gas works of Jeypore, India, illu minating gas is made chiefly from castor oil, poppy, til, or rape seed being used wben the supply of castor beans is short. One maund (62 pounds) of castor oil pro duces al>out 750 cubic feet of 261 candle ff-m, 1,000 fw vrt lOJ UUiUlt' gBB. The process of extracting the oil for carbonizing is as follows: First, the cas tor seed is passed through the crusher, wben the shells only are broken off. The shells arc then picked out. by hand, and the seed is again introduced into the crusher, where it is ground to a paste. It is then passed into the heating pan, and, after being well heated, it is packed into horsehair bag- and filled up hot into the press immediately. After about twenty minutes' pressing, the exuding oil being meanwhile collected, the cake is removed and ground over again. It is subsequently be&ted and pressed a second time until about 33 or 40 per cent of oil is obtained from the seed. The labor of preparing and pressing the castor seed costs two shil • lings (about fifty cents) per maund of oil. The total cost of the oil is somewhat over $5 per maund. For generating gas, the oil is used as it comes from the press. Formerly, at other places, when the oil beaiing seeds were carbonized for gas without previous treatment as above de scribed, the product was overloaded with carbonic acid from the woody part of the seeds, and correspondingly heavy cost for purification was incurred. For out of town consumers the Jeypore gas works supply gas compressed to about three at mospheres by means of a pump driven by a bullock. The compressed gas is then delivered in a wrought-iron receiver to the point of consumption, where it is either transferred into fixed receivers and burnt by the aid of suitable regulators, or is de livered into small portable or service gas holders, and burnt in the usual way. A ghat, or landing-stage two miles distant, is thus supplied with 400 cubic feet of gas every day, which is consumed by thirty jets, each burning 1 j cubic feet per hour for nine hours. There have not been auy accidents from the distribution of gas in the portable reservoirs, or otherwise As railroad carriages are also supplied with compressed gas, it is evident that the intro duction of this branch of service has widely extended the utility of the establishment. Another peculiarity of the Jeypore under taking is the necessity that exists for the manager to unite the attributes of a farmer to his other acquirements, for the purpose of securing a constant and cheap supply of raw material for gas making. Last year, the manager, Mr. Tellery, personally super intended the sowing of three hunched acres with the castor plant. How a Fog Whistle Works. The fcg whistle, heard for ten miles, consists of two distinct whistles, operated by two engufes in a building separate from the lighthouse. Fifty pounds of steam is the force carried while at work. Every blast lowers the mark four pounds. Shav ings ana kindling wood are laid already to start up steam when a fog comes oil, and the engineer can heat up for steam in thirty-five minutes. Tne whistle gives a blast of eight seconds' duration every min ute —a doleful sound, but invaluable to steamers and passing sailing vessels. We could hear it the other night booming dis mally through a fog five miles off. The captain starts it when the fog is Sach thai he can't see Goose Island, one mile distant. The whistle is produced by a wheel with a cam affixed; the whuel, a solid piece of work, regulated by a governor, revolves once a minute; the cam fixed at one point on its periphery, opens a point which lets off steam in the prolonged booming wail we had heard. To supply water for steam a big tank, under the same roof and sup plied by the rain from it, is kept pretty full. Forty feet long by eighteen wide and six deep, it is not likely to run dry in any fog; bit a carbo'ic engine and pump at the well wiiJ supply water in case Q£ emergency. NO. 38.