ee ————————————————————
Bellefonte, Pa., Aug. 19,1892
THE STORY OF LIFE.
Only the same old story told in a different
strain ;
Sometimes a smile of gladness, and thena
stab of pain ; ; s
Sometimes a flash of sunlight, again the drift-
ing rain. ;
Sometimes it seems to borrow from the rose
its crimson hue ; ?
Sometimes black with thunder, then'changed
to a brilliant blue;
Sometimes as - false as Satan, sometimes as
Heaven true. .
Only the same old story, but oh, how the
changes ring !
Prophet and priest, peasant,
scholor, and king :
Sometimes the warmest hand clasp leaves
in the palm a sting.
Sometimes in the hush of even,
in the mid-day strife;
Sometimes with dove-like calmness, some:
times with passions rife,”
We dream it, write it, live it—this weird, wild
story of life.
soldier and
sometimes
— Boston Transcript.
PTT
TRAGEDY OF A LITTLE LIFE,
BY BELLE C. GREENE.
The person travelling through Wy-
oming territory cannot judge of the
whole by what he sees through the
car windows. The railroad is built for
the most part through the desert, and’
it must be remembered that these few
hundred miles of barren waste stretch
away into fertile lands, acres upon acres
rich in inexhaustible treasures of coal,
iron, gold, stone, oil and timber, and
for natural scenery— is not Yellow-
stone Park itself in Wyoming ?
But barren as the desert plains are,
many small towns have of necessity
sprung up along the track of the rail-
road, one of which is Green Riyer, 80
called from the turbid little creek that
runs through the place.
. No description can give more than a
suggestion of the real desolation of the
gpot. There is not a tree nor bush
nor blade of grass, nor any living green
thing, nothing but sand and clay ; and
the face of the country is whitened
everywhere with a horrible alkali de-
posit that poisons the air and makes
throats and eyes sore. The little set:
tlement ‘is gathered quite compactly
about the railroad station, and is gloomi-
ly overshadowed by a mountainous
elevation of ridges or terraces crowned
by a huge castlelike butt of sandstoue
—a wonderful freak of nature, called
thereabouts ‘Castle Rock.”
There is almost no rain fall during
the whole year, and the soil is such
that absolutely nothing can be raised ;
all food supplies are brought in over
the railroad. The only articles of
commerce the re.ion affords are fossils
_and petrified objects, for the most part
fishes, which are found some fifty
miles farther on at another place called
Fossil.”
Green River numbers about 500 in-
habitants, consisting mainly of rail:
road employes and their families.
Their houses are as comfortable as one
usually finds in obscure western towns,
and they have a church, two hotels,
a half a dozen nondescript stores and
11 liquor saloons! Aud this brings
me to my story.
Not long ago in journeying home
from a trip to the Pacific Coast I stop-
ped over at Green River for a day or
two. I needed rest, and I confess that
the terrible desolation of the place had
a strange sort of fascination for me.
Mine host of the hotel was a good-na-
tured German, whose family consisted
of wife, two little girls and a kitchen
full of Chinamen.
I made friends with the little girls,
Greta and Hilda, at once, and after
supper they invited me to accompany
thew to a “Band of Hope” meeting to
be beld in the little church I had seen
across the way.
I was surprised and delighted to hear
of euch an organization in that appar-
ently benighted spot, and, taking a
hand of each, we stumbled along in
the darkness over rocks and sand, tin
cans, broken bottles and all sorts of
refuse till we reached one little street
where our way began to be lighted by
feeble rays from smoky kerosene lamps
in the stores and saloons. The latter
I observed were filled with men, and
in some cases with women too, and
there were music and dancing, the
clinking of glassesiand loud laughter.
.In one place a fight was going on,
but no one seemed to interfere or in-
deed to take much notice. Even the
little girls, my companions, only look-
ed back with mild curiosity and re-
marked “Another fight!”
“Do they occur often ?”7 T asked.
“Oh, yes; most every night,” was
the reply.
A little further on, through an open
door, we saw a man and a boy playing
violins, They were ORNL by a
crowd of men, drinking and playing
cards. The music was so good that 1
paused instinctively to listen. The
boy was a mere child, and the glimpse
I got of his little face interested me.
“Who is he!” I nquired of my com-
panions.
“Oh, that is Henny Mosseck.” said
Hilda, “and that man playing with
him is his father—he’s made Henoy
play again to-night; the teacherll feel
awful bad!”
We were soon atthe church door,
and T followed the little girls in, It
was an unfinished, barn-like room, but
a great stove glowed red-hot in the
center, for, though it was April, the
nights were yet cold. Forty or fifty
children were assembled, and on a
raised platform at the farther end of
the room’ were a cabinet organ, a few
chairs and a little desk. Beside the
desk’ stood their teacher, Mrs. Apgood.
I learned later that this young woman
was the wife ofa prominent railroad
employe living bere, and being an eara-
est Christian as well as a strong tem-
perance woman, she was doing what |
she could to save the children from the
evil influences around them and train
them to sober and right habits.
After receiving us politely the teach-
er proceeded with the exercises. She
first sat down to the organ ‘and led the
children in singing a temperance song,
then she questioned them in relation
to alcohol and its effects upon the
health, after which they repeated pas-
sages of the Scripture referring to the
subject, and one little girl recited a
poem, “Never Touch It,” very prettily.
There was more singing, more ques-
tions and answers, then the roll was
called. They all responded briskly to
their names, only a few being absent.
Henr ique Mosseck,” was ca led, and
no answer. The teacher paused and
cast a quick glance over her little
flock.
“Ts Henny sick 7’ she asked.
“No,” spoke up Hilda, “he is play-
ing again with his father at the “Star”
to-night. We saw him as we came
along.”
The teacher sighed and looked
troubled.
“How many have been in saloons
the past week ?’’ was the next ques
tion. Several hands were raised,
though with evident reluctance,
“How many went—on errands ?”
Every hand remained up and every
face expressed relief.
“Their parents send them to buy
beer or liquor,” the teacher explained
aside to me.
Just here the door was pushed timid-
ly open and a little boy stole in and
tiptoed lightly up the aisle. He wore
po hat, and he carried a violin under
his arm. It was little Henrique, the
boy I had seen playing in the saloon
as we came along. ©
The teacher spoke kindly to him,
and I heard him whisper excitedly :
“Oh, teacher! I ran away! I've
been playing again at the ‘Star’—fath-
er. made ‘me—and oh! he is awful
drunk ! ‘they're most all drunk—and
so I ran away! But, oh! if they
should happen to want any more music
then father would miss me—and—"
he shuddered and looked fearfully
toward the door.
“Please, please, teacher,” he added
nervously, “I wish gou would let me
sit beside 0’ you! I"n—I'm afraid I”
She spoke to him reassuringl{ ,gave
him a seat beside her and proceeded
with the exercises. All who had a
verse to repeat, a song to sing or a
story to tell were allowed to contribute
to the entertainment. Two little girls
spoke a dialogue, one very small boy
begged leave to show how well be had
learned to turn a summersault, where
upon a dozen clamored to be allowed to
do the same, but all were smilingly
denied.
Meanwhile the look of affright had
gone out of little Henrique’s face, and
he was laughing and enjoying with
the rest, It was about time to close
when the teacher turned to him and
said: “Will you play a piece foo our
visitor ‘ to-night, Henrique?’ accom-
panying the request with an encourag-
ing smile.
He flushed redly, but did not hesi-
tate for a moment. He picked up his
violin and marched to the front of the
stage, and with a little jerky bow began
to play.
It was a sad, simple little air, and
after playing it once through he embel-
lished it with what were evidently his
own variations. His performance may
have been very crude, but it was cer-
tainly a remarkably eflective one. He
seemed to put all his heart into it, and
a very sad little heart it must have
been, for I felt the tears on my cheeks
before I knew It. Suddenly in the
midst of a bird-like passage he stopped
short and darted to the teacher's side,
his dark eyes turned toward the door
and dilated with fear.
“There's father | there's father I” he
cried, and he'll kill me for running
away! Dou’t let him get at me—oh,
don’t!” A man had opened the door
and was now stumbling across the
room, shoutirg out oaths ard threats
and flourishing a heavy stick as he
came.
Mrs. Apgood rose, and throwing one
arm protectingly round Henrique, she
faced the intruder, calmly waiting till
he reached the platform.
“Good evening, Mr. Mosseck,” she
said in a clear voice, “will you sit
down ?” and she offered him a chair.
He rudely thrust her aside and kick-
ed over the chair, making a dive for
Henrique, who evaded him by dodging
behind Mrs. Apwood,
“No! 1 won't sit down !”” he shout-
ed, “I've come after my boy I” making
another dive at him. “Thought you'd
skin away from me, did ye? You just
wait till I get my hand on to you—I'll
I'll flay ye alive! you young ras-
call”
He hurled his stick aimlessly, and it
flew to a distant part of the room, and
just then, making a misstep, he sud-
denly lost his balance and fell sprawl-
ing on the-floor ; whereupon the child-
ren so forgot their fear as to indulge in
a general giggle.
This enraged the drunken man all
the more. He scrambled to his feet
cursing savagely, and Mrs. Apgood’s
attention being turned for the moment
towards the scholars, he succeeded in
getting hold of Heorigue. Clutching
him by the collar, he swung him round
and round as if he had been a reed in
his band, and when he at last losened
his hold the child, dizzy and faint with
fear, staggered forward a few steps and
fell, his back striking heavily on the
sharp edge of the platform.
There he lay on the floor, white and
still, a tiny stream of blood slowly ooz-
ing from his lips and dripping on his
violin, which strangely enough, he had
managed to keep a hold upon through
all.
A moment the father stood looking
down upon his work as if horror struck
then uttering a loud despairing cry, be
turned and fled from the spot as fast as
his trembling limbs could carry him,
Almost immediately, however, be re-
appeared accompanied by a woman
whose comely face wore a look of agony
and dread. She threw herself down
beside the unconscious. boy, moaning
and weeping and calling him by. every
dear name.
“Oh, Henny, Henny, darling ? Speak
tome!” she cried. ‘Speak to your
miserable mother!”
The father stood by speechless,
dazed ; not till the teacher suggested
that the child should be takeu home
and cared for did he seem to rouse him-
self, then carefully and with great teo-
derness he lifted the little form in his
arms, and followed by the weeping
mother, carried him home and laid
him on a bed. They applied such re-
storatives as were at hand and sent for
the only physician the place afforded.
The ohild soon recovered consciousness
but lay, still with his eyes shut moan-
ing pitifully. !
Upon examination it appeared that
he had sustained internal injuries so
severe that it required little skill to
foresee that the result must be fatal.
When he at last opened his eyes his
mother bent over him and spoke his
name.
' “Do you suffer much?’ she asked.
“Yes; oh, yes!” he answered, his
gaze wandering from one face to an-
other, “and, mother! I see—I know
—you think I am going to die.” He
tried to lift his hand to her face, but
dropped it with a moan of pain. His
mother’s tears were his only answer.
“Mother, mother!” he continued.
“I wish you wouldn't cry. I am not
sorry to die—only for you and father
You know it is not pleasant here—but
there—I shall see trees and green grass
and sweet smelling flowers—and I
shall hear the birds sing—and I hall
play with the angels.” He paused and
ooked wistfully about, as 1f searching | ¥
for something. violin?’ he
said.
His mother laid it on his breast, and
he looked at it fondly, a pleased smile
hovering round his lips.
“I ghall play with the angels,” he
repeated, softly—‘never any more at
the ‘Star’—never! If only I' could
know that you would not cry and
mourn for me—too much—"'
But his mother only sobbed and
clung to him, wildly beseeching him
not to die, not to “go and leave her.
She couldn’t live without bim—she
could not !”’
For some moments he lay regarding
her very sorrowfully, now and then ut-
tering a faint moan, which all his
brave little will could not repress.
“But, mother.” he asked at length,
his eyes brightening eagerly ; ‘‘could
you not let me go, if father would pro-
mise never to drink any more, never
to play at any saloon again? It would
be worth while, then—to save father !
I am only a little boy, you know—and
father—is big and strong, and so good,
£0 kind—when he has not been drink-
ing! You love him, don’t you, moth-
er, dear—mother, dear?” He looked
at her wistfully, beseechingly. “I
can’t die and leave you—so,” he
said.
“But you must not die—you must
not I” she groaned. “I cannot think of
him now—and, besides,” she added
bitterly, “he will not promise—he nev-
er will!”
All this time the wretched man had
been kneeling on the other side of the
bed, his face buried in the bed clothes.
As his wife uttered those despairing
words he lifted his head and looked at
her.
“Tt is true I could never make it up
to you never make it upto myself”
he said, brokenly. “Oh, if I could un-
do this accursed night's work with the
sacrifice of my own worthless life—!"
The father rose to his feet, and lifted
his right hand to heaven.
“Father, dear father,” interrupted
the gentle little voice, “only promise !
That will make up for all—it will, oh,
it willl”
“My son,” he said, solemnly,
“whether you liveordie, this I swear to
you, I will never drink another drop
of liquor, nor touch another card, nor
play in a saloon! I swear it, so help
me God !”
The child smiled softly, and turned
his glazing eyes upon his mother.
“Iam glad! Itis worth while to
die—for father—mother !"’—and he fell
back into his mother's arms and
died.
When I awoke next morning, after
a restless night, my first thought was
of the little boy whose martyrdom had
been the means of turning one soul,
and, perhaps through him, many more
in time to a better life. I looked out
over the desolate little settlement,
where no beauty of nature, nor cheer-
ing sight nor sound met the eye or ear
—nothing but the dead brown barren-
ness of the desert, the dusty roads, the
blackening buildings and the gloomy
shape of “Castle Rock’ frowning down
continually, and I was glad in my
heart for little Henrique, that he had
gone and left 1 all, My sympathy
was for those who remained behind.
“My
Ripe Fruit and Liquor.
Any whiskey drinker can easily satis-
fy himself as to the effect of ripe fruit in
controlling the appetite for spirituous
liquors, says a writer in the St. Louis
Globe-Democrat. The man who can
take a drink ot whiskey or beer after eat-
ing two or three ripe peaches, apples or
pears—any ripe fruit, in fact, thatis a
little juicy—has a peculiar appetite, to
say the least. It is no difficult thing to
cure the liquor or morphinehabit when-
ever a man fully decides that he wants
it cured, especially if he is accustomed
to a sufficiency of nourishing food. An
impoverished diet is the cause of very
much of the drinking among the poorer
classes. The deficient supply of nitro-
genous food creates a demand in the sys-
tem for a stimulant. To cure that class
you must feed them. ;
r———
Cholera in St. Petersburg.
S1. PETERSRURG, Aug. 13.—That the
cholora is now here is officially admitted.
A report just issued shows that there
were 154 cases of the disease and thirty-
one deaths from it in the city between
August 1 and 12.
Thus far only the working people have
been attacked by the scourge. The con-
ditions under which they live invite at-
tacks of the disease, and through igno-
rance they passively resist the endeavors
of the authorities to improve the sanita-
ry condition of their dwellings.
SE
——Tine job work of ever discription
at'the WarcaMAN Office.
RESET TE RIE
Aluminium’s Future.
Injeresting Account of the New Metal's Rapid
Advancement. —It is Useful, Soft and Cheap.
Aluminium is fast taking the place
among the metals of every-day life. One
of the surest indications of this is that
we find it quoted on the commercial |
price lists along with tin, lead, zinc cop- |
per and iron. The true meaning and |
importance of such an incident is apt to !
be underestimated by the general public, |
says 8 writer in the Chicago Inter Ocean. |
This new and beautiful metal, discov- |
ered by the German, Wohler, in 1827,
and introduced to the world by the
Frenchman, Deville, in 1856, has had a |
short yet interesting = history. When |
first made in quantity by Deville the |
world at once fell in love with its latest |
acquisition It was rightly regarded as |
a great achievement of science and its |
future usefulness was mapped out in !
glaring colors. With each decrease in
prize more numerous applications were
suggested, but very few made. In 1862 |
the metal was sold at $12 a pound, but
many expectations had already been dis-
appointed and its uses limited princi-
pally to articles of luxury. The trou-
tle was not so much that aluminium it-
self had been found lacking, but that it
price was too high for many prospective
uses. To make bad worse, it was then
found that aluminium could not be made
any cheaper by the Deville process. Then
came an era of disappointment.
For 25
ears the world was in the tantalizing
position of knowing uses for tons of alu-
minium if it conld only be had at a low
price. After the rapid advancement in
production and swift decline in price,
from 1856 to 1861, the subsequent 25
years’ dead level seemed to mark the limi-
it of the aluminium industry, and many
metalligursts had given up hope of any
great future for aluminium.
THE DAWN OF A NEW ERA.
In 1866-67 a new era dawned. An
inflow of new and successful methods of
production reawakened kopes for the fu-
ture. Five years of activity followed,
the price dropped rapidly, larger and
still larger quantities were produced and
more and more utilized.
The first ripple of this tide of activity
was felt in 1886, when a German manu-
facturer, said then to be producing alu-
minium by electricity, lowered the sell-
ing price to $8. The next year an im-
provement in making metallic sodium
infused pew life into the Deville process,
and Mr. Castner sold aluminium for $5.
In 1889 the electric method received a
greatimpulse by the application of Hall’s
process, now in operation on the banks
of the Allogheny river 18 miles above
Pittsburg, and aluminium was sold at
$4, and in 1890 at $2.50 a pound. Proc-
esses similar to Hall's were started abroad
and a wholesale reduction in prices be-
gan. Sharp competition reduced the
price in 1891 to as low as 50 cents a
pound, at whick flzure there was really
too little profit to the makers, and this
present year it has rebounded to 60 cents,
which is the present selling price for the
ingot metal in large quantities.
The present status of aluminium in-
dustry is unique. All the aluminium
now being made commercially is made
by electrical processes. The chemical
method, using sodium, is entirely super-
ceded. Further, it appears as if, after
five years development, the electrical
methods have almost reached their lim-
it.
THE COST OF THE METAL.
The method of passing an electric cur-
rent through a molten bath of fluoride
galts in which aluminium oxide has been
dissolved is in theory one ofthe simplest
processes conceivable, and is in practice
rapidly approaching perfection. Hav-
ing the right principle to work on, man-
ufacturers trouble themselves very little
about radically new processes, and are
putting all their attention to perfecting
details of the present method. With
cheaper aluminium oxide, cheap power,
and the decreasing cost of all minor items
such as comes from working on a large
scale, it is estimated, without exageera-
tion, shat aluminium will be manufac-
turea in the near futurest about 25 cents
a pound. It costs at present between 40
and 50 cents.
"We may almost surely expect alumi-
nium to be selling again at 50 cents a
pound inside of a year, but it is proba-
ble that somewhere about this fignre will
limit its price for several years to come.
At this price aluminium is about on a
par with copper. bulk for bulk. An al-
uminium and a copper rod of the same
size would cost nearly the san.e. There
are really at present only six metals sell-
ing cheaper by the pound than alumini-
um, viz., iron, lead, zinc, copper, tin,
and antimony, whieh, if we compare the
cost of equal bulks, only iron, lead and
zinc are materially cheaper.
ITS PRESENT GREAT PRODUCTION.
The amount of aluminium being made
daily in the world is not difficult to esti-
mate. In the United States, the Pitts-
burg Reduction Company is making 450
ounds daily, and the Cowles Electric
Erelung Company at Lockport, N. Y.,
450 pounds, making a total of about 150
tons a year. In England, the Metal
Reduction Company at Patricroft, Lan-
cashire, produces 300 pounds daily, and
the Cowles Syndicate Company at Stoke-
on-Trent, 250 pounds, making a yearly
total of 100 tons. In France, the birth-
lace of the aluminium industry. Mineu
rotners’ works at St. Michael, Savoy,
produce daily 300 pounds, or 55 tons, &
year. The largest works in the world
are in Switzerland, at the Falls of ‘the
Rhine, where 1,500 horse power is used
to produce 1,200 pounds of aluminium a
day, or 215 tons a year. We may, there-
fore, say that aluminium is now being
made at the rate of about 2,900 pounds
a day, or 520 tons a year.
In spite of this large manufacture it is
a fact, that, at the present time, the de-
mand for the metal far exceeds the sup-
ply. Consumers cannot obtain from the
makers all that they are willing to buy.
Let us inquire what is being done with
go much aluminium, and what more is
yet demanded.
The valuable properties of aluminium
are, in the order of their importance, its
reat lightness, resistance to corrosion,
workability ‘strength’ and ‘comparative
cheapness.
There are some purposes for which al-
uminium is particularly suited because
of its resisténce to corrosion; I mean us-
es for which it would be peculiarly suit-
éd, even were it as heavy as the other
metals. These uses are culinary uten-
RE SCA TT
nium.
rations.
HEAT PASSES THROUHG IT VERY FAST.
Tt resists so well the action of all kinds
"of food, all the humors of the body, and
all the various sulphur gases arising from
burning coal, that for the purposes named
it is almost invaluable. In cooking, the
wearing out of tinware, the rusting out
of ironware, the poisonous effect and
difficulty of cleaning copper-ware, the
cracking of enameled wear. Further, it
has the lightness to its credit, and it is
almost startling to note the rapidity with
which heat passes through it and cooks
the contents with much less fire than is
ordinary needful. After a year’s use in
our kitchen our aluminium boilers are
apparently as good as new, and our scales
— weighing to half an ounce—fail 10 in-
dicate any sensible loss in their weight.
They are the perfection of cooking uten-
sils.. Regarding surgical instruments,
those made of aluminium are so easily
kept clean; the metal is so harmless and
light, that their use has proved a verita-
ble comfort to the profession. For inte-
rior decoration aluminium leaf takes the
place of silver leat to perfection, and
keeps its white color unchanged in an at-
mosphere which would turn silver black
in a day. Here its lightness is unimpor-
tant, but for chandeliers both these prop-
erties are of first importance, and it is
surprising that aluminium gas fixtures
are not in more general use.
It is certain that we will soon see them
made in large quantitios and used almost
everywhere. We may, therefore, ex-
pect that aluminium will in a measure
replace cast iron, tinned iron, copper and
brass for culinary use, steel, german sil-
ver and brass for surgical instruments,
zine, brass and silver leaf for decorations.
ALUMINIUM IS A VERY SOFT METAL.
Regarding workability, aluminium is
in some respects a peculiar metal. Those
who study the metal and experiment
with it patiently can learn todo any-
thing they please with it It has strik-
ing peculiarities which must be mastered,
but when properly taught by experience
any article can be made of aluminium
that can be made of any other metal.
For instance, in regard to soldering, al-
uminium is one of the most difficult met-
als, known. The difficulty ofsoldering
it easily and and satisfactorily has
in times past been a great hindrance to
its use in the arts. The writer has the
pleasure of saying that his father, Mr.
Joseph Richards, of Philadelphia, has
removed all uncertainty from this ques-
tion by inventing a solder which is al-
most everything that can be desired. Its
successful use has removed one of the
greatest drawbacks to aluminium in the
workshop. The hammering, forging,
rolling, drawing, stamping, cleaning and
polishing of alaminium all present cer-
tain peculiarities which must be mas-
tered before satisfactory results are ob-
tained ; but when once this experience is
had aluminium can be easily worked in-
to any shape desired.
Regarding strength, pure aluminium
is a soft metal. On this account alumi-
nium is frequently hardened by a small
addition of silver, nickel, copper or ti-
tanium; just as gold is hardened by sil-
ver or copper. This hardened alumini-
um is fully as strong as ordi-
nary brass, though it cannot compare at
all ‘with steel. It is, however, strong
enough for all purposes except construc-
tions, and we may, therefore, say “that
for all the purposes heretofcre named al-
uminium can be made as strong as the
(cases require. It is, therefore, not lack-
ingin strength sufficient for all practical
purposes outside of constructions.
IT IS SELLING CHEAPLY JUST NOW.
cheapness the writer has
lately been tempted to aver that alumi-
nium is cheap enough. When we con-
sider that in many respects it resembles
the noble metals, and yet can be bought,
bulk for bulk,as cheap as tin and al-
most as cheap as copper, which are com-
monly regarded as base metals, it seems
as if we have a right to expect. If we
can think of the metals as worth outright
so much a pound, ‘IT am quite ready to
say that, considering what aluminium is
and how it compares with the other met-
als, 50 cents a pound is alow price for it.
At that price the world is getting cheap
aluminium. :
It is not to be overlooked-—nor can we
justly complain—that articles made of
aluminium cost at present rather high.
The reasons for this are two-fold. ~The
Regarding
other metals are sold is largely due to
their being made in immense quantities.
Ask a manufacturer to make half a doz-
en.spoons, or a dozen stew-pans, and it
will be found that they would cost many
times as much as if they were the ordi-
nary kind made by thousands. Again,
working in aluminium requires some
time and patience to reach good results,
and those who have mastered the work-
ing of it are looking for large profits.
Some of the greatest benefactors of the
aluminium industry at present are those
who are searching out the easiest ways
of working and utihzingaluminium, and
by their efforts thus opening up the mar-
‘ket for larger and larger consumption.
Having, then, the metal in large quan-
tities at a low price, knowing how to
work it into any desired shape, using the
metal already at the rate of 500 tons a
year—what ot the future?
Will aluminium supersede iron &nd
steel ? The answer is—no.
IT WILL NOT SUPERSEDE IRON AND
STEEL. :
The metals which will be materially,
aftected by aluminium are tin, copper,
zine, lead and silver. Our block-tin
pipe, tin foil, silver loaf, even silverware,
may be largely replaced, while tinned-
iron sheets (common tin) may be elbow-
ed out by sheet aluminium or aluminium
coated sheets. Copper in many places,
such as for roofs, stills, cooking utensils,
will have aluminium largely substituted
for it. The thousand and one articles of
lgvery-day use made of brass may almost
any one of them be made of alumi-
Interior flttings of all kinds. to
buildings, ships. street and railway cars
—not_ forgetting, the, projected Seating
air-ships—will be in many cases made o
the light aluminium. But for boilers,
‘girders, rails,
engines, machinery,
bridges, ships, towers and all structrual
‘purposes, the use of iron and steel will
never be visibly affected by competition
from alumininm.
———— I LE
——No other Sarsaparilla bas the
merit by which Hood’s Sarsaparilla has
won such a firm hold upon’ the confi-
sils, surgical instruments, interior deco-
dence of the people. ©
low price at which ordinary articles of
SE RR EC SEE IS FT CTU RR
The World of Women. .
Bow-knots and loops perched on'long
hair pins, and of alishades, are coquet-
tish and femine for young people.
Sleeves are larger and fuller than ev-
er, though not so high on the shoulders.
In Paris just now it is the correct thing:
to look broad across the shoulders.
A low braided chignon, with hair
waved on the sides and drawn down
over the top of the ears, isa Parisian
revival of an old and not very becoming
fashion.
Miss Zoe Gayton proposes io renew
her pedestrian honors by walking from
New York to San Francisco via New
Orleans, a distance of 3,869 miles, in 167
days.
Edith Brill, a 10-year-year-old girl,
who saved the lives of two little boys
who had fallen into the water at Wol-
wich, has received the silver medal of
the Royal Humane Society.
Newest petticoats are the black silk
and parti-colored striped ones, with one
frill. They can be worn under any
handsome gown. The cooler ones are
in pale-colored striped cotten, also with
one frill.
Bad breath or offensive breath may be
removed by taking a teaspoonful of the
following mixture after each meal:
One ounce liquor of potassa, one ounce
chloride of soda, one and a half ounces
phosphate of soda and three ounces of
water.
The question of pockets in the tightly
fitting skirts of the day is being solved
by making them at the side exactly like
a man’s trousers’ pocket. These pock-
ets should come just in front of the hips
so that they do not gape open, and there
should be one on each side.
The proper care of russet shoes is a
question of import just now. A word
of caution : Abjure all so-called russet
polishes. Simply rub off the shoes each
morning with a damp cloth and then
polish them vigorously with a soft, dry
brush. They will soon acquire a sur-
prising polish without a trace of sticki-
ness,
The loose crinky frill that has all this
season adorned the front of most blouse
waists of either silk or cotton fabrics is
now voted “tously” and “untidy’’ by
those restless beings who are always
searching for something new. French
woman have, I hear discarded it in fa-
vor of a broad box pleat, that is fastened
in the middle with three or four jeweled
buttons, chaiced together by tiny links
of gold. z
Artificial oats or oats'dyed in various
colors are quite conspicuous in milli-
nery. A lovely Paris model is shaped
to resemble a sort of oblong skull cap
covered with jet oats, except at the cen-
tre, from which rise upright bows of to-
mato-red velvet, two vivid roses of
matching color being placed in neglige
fashion, one at the edge of the bonnet,
the other resting on the hairin the back.
Simple as it looked the price of the bon-
net was twenty dollars.
One of the prettiest river dresses is also
one of the simplest, being in blue and
white striped galata, the white subdu-
ed by cross lines of the blue. It is made
with a skirt and short coat, open front,
as are most of the river coats, this
season. The skirt is white silk, with a
neat double rufile, not a great, wide un-
tidy one, such as are but too often worn.
The belt, tie, hat ribbon and sunshade
are in navy blue, and the boots and
‘gloves in a similar tone of dark Russia
leather. There can scarcely ‘be found a
more suitable dress for a warm summer’s
day. When the galatea skirt is lifted
the silk petticoat beneath it discloses tan
silk the color of the boots, and bordered
with a frill to match. The stockings,
visible at the ankles for an instant as
the wearer steps out of a boat, are also
ne Both would be equally well in
ue.
From Paris I hear that they are try-
ing to do away with the pointed trained
skirt, whether of bell or umbrella or cor-
net shape. In fact I saw a frock that
was made in Paris by a very smart mak-
‘er, which had two box pleats in the back
of the skirt, though the front was tight
fitting and gored. This special costume
‘was of deep heliotrope cloth, the
skirt is mounted on two box pleats and
has only a slight train. There is a
very long, close-fitting ' jacket of fine
black heliotrope cord, which defines the
seams, and heads, chevron style, the
fulness of the basque at the back. The
jacket is thrown quite open in front, on-
ly hooking invisibly at the waist line,
so as to show a blouse-like, waistcoat of
pale heliotrope gauze. There are very
broad revers of heliotrope cloth embroid-
ed with gold, and the full sleeves are of
heliotrope turned back with deep gaunt-
let cuffs of black embroidered in gold.
The hat to be worn with this handsome
gown js of coarse yellowish Tuscan
straw, with a regular flower bed of tall
purplish pink and red roses and foliage
disposed with much artistic skill upon
it.
+ Beyond a doubt, this ought to be call-
‘ed’ “the White Summer.” Such a
white summer as it is--white duck and
linen for mornings. White lawn and
pique for afternoons, and white muslin
and chiffon for evenings. And because
it is a white summer there are rumors
rife of fall weddings galore. Who can
trace the analogy ? There seems tobe
to men a sweet appealing grace, a charm
esentially feminine and winsome in the
simple frock of white unattainable to the
richness of silk or the lustre of satin. It
was in white that Napoleon loved best
to find his Empress waiting to receive
‘him. Itis white which King Humbert
chooses ever for his sweet consort, Mar-
guerite—gowns of muslin, sheer and
‘white, with chains of her favorite pearls
about her neck. - It is the softly falling
sweetly simple frock of snowy lawn that
that lures the guileless youth into thiok-
ing that his fair lady’s tastes are in
sweet and modest accord with the limi-
tations of his ‘salary it is pathetic to
to think how mistaken he is, for the
filmy, fluttering gown has linings of silk
fine'and firm. The big, drooping hat,
that goes with it, rough and ready as it
is, with. only -ascarf of gauze, would
keep him in Derbys fortwo years.
The liar needs a good memory ; but
his victim is in no danger of forgetful
ness.