} Sena Wes — Bellefonte, Pa., July 3, 1903. YOU OR It Have you thot, dear one, of the time to eome, When you and I must part, One away to that long, last home, One left with a broken heart ? Yet all the science of ages run Does not reveal to us while one, Nor the day or the hour, sweetheart. Oh, chould I be the one to go, dear heart, And you would be left alone ; Then would all the peace of heaven depart, Nor celestial joys atone ! For the thot of your widowed grief would be Enough to make heaven a hell for me. When thinking of you, alone. Or should you, dear one, be the first to go And I be the one to stay. The world would be dreary to me, I know ; With never a gladsome day. And heaven, to yon, would be sad and drear, Rememb’ring my unshared anguish here, And you so far away. Did you you ever stop and, shudd’ring, think Of the parting sure tobe, Some time, dear heart, at the grave’s dark brink? Oh! will it be you or me ? Yet all the wisdom of works untold Does not the secret to us unfold. Tis well that we cannot see. —A. H, Holmes, in Greenburg (Kan.) Signal. THE HAZING OF A FRESHMAN. msi, A COLLEGE STORY. ‘‘That’s the fellow.”’ Morecombe gave his.head a backward jerk without looking toward the object denoted. His three com- panions standing with him under a tree on the University campus cast a swift glance and then gazed intently in the opposite direction. That glance had shown a tall, lank, red-baired youth, swinging along in- dependently, his slant blue eyes fixed on the figure of a girl walking just ahead of him, his lips puckered in a noiseless whistle. ‘‘His name’s Petrie and he got in from Waco this morning,’’ went on Morecombe, digging the toe of one hoot in the adobe soil of the campus. ‘‘We muss fix him to- night.”’ ‘‘He’s not as green as he looks,’”’ ven- tured Griscom, following the swinging gait of the new comer’s figure, now that his back was turned toward them and chance observation safely averted. ‘‘Perhaps not,”’ said Morecombe, indif- ferently, filling and lighting his pipe. The three thus reminded followed suit, and, selecting a grass plot well in the shade, threw themselves down and smoked on for a little in silence. ‘Do you think he suspects anything?’ asked Winston, breaking in on the thoughts of the others. ‘Suspects !”’ echoed Morecombe. ‘‘Sus- pects ! And not a man hazed for two weeks. We've made it too dead easy altogher for the Freshmen this year. Last spring even the snapping of twigs made them jump and look behind them, we got so on their nerves. Now, they come in shamelessly and as soon as they’ve hung up their olothes they begin to put on the airs of a Senior It’s not to our credit. We are studying. too hard and not attending to business.” “That's a fact,’’ acquiesced Winston, cheerfully ignoring that at that moment a zoological lecture awaited his presence. “We'll put him through the paces to- night properly, just to make up for lost time,”’ energetically announced Tweedie, up to that moment silent. ‘And when we’ve done with him there will be an air of respect about the Freshmen in this place that will prove a model for every state in- stitution in the country.” ‘‘Perhaps,”” said Winston, dubiously. ‘‘Bat, after all, we may have chosen the wrong man. He mayn’t turn out as green as he looks.”’ ‘So much the better. If we found him too easy game everv other new fellow would take a wrong view of the case and think himself too bright to have anything of the kind happen to him. That’s the trouble with Freshmen anyway, the idea they’ve got of their cleverness. A new professor couldn’t he more conceited. For the credit of the place it’s got to be stop- ped. Think hard between now and noon,’ said Morecombe, reluctantly rising. ‘‘The, old tricks work pretty well, but we ought to have some new ones. I'm off to Kemp's lecture.”’ Knocking the ashes from the cooling bowls of their pipes the other three rose to their feet and followed him across the campus, shimmering in the heat of a Texas September—a heat that seemed to put fresh distortions on the cactus plants writhing like a tangle of snakes in the sunshine. Petrie, unconscious of anything brewing, had passed over the same ground ahead of them. Now twenty paces in front of him walked the girl who bad gotten on the train at Milano Junction yesterday. He knew the slope of her shoulders, the bunch of curls tied with a ribbon at the nape of her neck, the poise of her head, slightly turned to one side. Ouly one girl had that rare combination of charms which there was no mistaking. He bad brought her a glass of water yesterday and had handed her his newspaper before he had read it himself. Both timesshe had thanked him. To Petrie her voice seemed sweeter than any melody the Waco cornet band had ever discoursed. That monosyllable twice utter- ed yesterday had proved to him beyond chance of contradiotion that the world held only one of her kind. A swift glance of her eyes looking up from under their lashes each time she had said ‘‘Thanks’’ settled the matter irrevocably. He felt that he had known her for years. At nineteen one does not always measure time by the calendar. As she walked on with her springy step just abead of him that morning he decided that co-education was a good thing. Often before be had heard the subject discussed, sometimes with considerable acrimony as to the unwisdom of it. Until that morning he had never really thought of the matter the one way or the other. Now, with his eyes never shifting in their gaze from her slight figure and a respectful distance care- fully held, he pitied the narrowness of a judgment that decided against the only right method of getting learning. As she ascended the stairs he hurried his pace and opened the door for her. Look- ing up she gave a half bow of recognition, her eyelids fell and the color rose in her checks. In that moment, with his hand on the door-knob, and before she had en- tered the university main portal, he felt as he had never felt before the value of know- ledge and that co-education was the only way to get it. “There's a ew girl from Milano June- tion, to-day.”’ announced Morecombe two hours later. “I know all about it," said Tweedie with promptness. ‘‘Her name is Thayer Walker. She’s spending two days with the matron at our dormitory building. Mrs. Watson’s looking ous for her until she gets suitable quarters, My mother’s a great friend of hers. I've known her for years.” “How Hany forty ?’ asked Morecombe. Tweedie’s sudden importance had jarred his nerves. - “That's always the way; this girl busi- ness at the university stops everything. How can we haze Petrie to-night with that girl from Milano in the house?’ ‘“‘And lady friend of mine—'’ began Tweedie with dignity. ‘“‘Come off your horses,’’ snapped Win- ston. *‘‘I lumped them.”’ “You dido’s.”’ ‘‘Shut up,” commanded Morecombe. ‘‘Why are you rowing when the girl’s is in another wing of the building and won’t hear a sound of the fun? Ceme in,” and he threw open the door of his room. Five minutes later the smoke from four pipes rose in ourved, silvery ribbons to- ward the ceiling, and four heads bent to- gether in close consultation. At eight o'clock a demure-looking youth tapped at Petrie’s door. ‘‘A lady wishes to speak to you at the ’phone,’’ he said. Petrie tried to thank him nonchalantly with his heart in his mouth, presently springing down three steps at a time when be felt out of eye-shot. A lady! What lady ? He knew only one in all Austin, for he had just gotten in that morning. In- deed he realized that be did not know her. Could it beshe? How could it be any other ? Thought fled swifter than his long legs could carry him, but no conclusion had come when he reached the telephone box, blushing until little beads of moisture stood out on the back of his neck. He had scarcely picked up thereceiver in eager haste when he was caught from be- hind by strong hands and blindfolded. From that moment on there was no time left for conjecture over the problem. He was made to walk a plank which disguised voices told him led over a bottomless pit ; he was swung out by too willing arms to be clutched on the fly by long, bony fin- gers ; tossed in a blanket and stood on his head in a flower-bed. Now and then those same disguised voices told him that he was being initiated into the Pathfinders. 16 seemed several hours, though in reality it was less than sixty minutes, when he was finally carried with a vigor worthy of foot-ball experts up three flights of stairs and thrust into the bath-room on his dormitory landing. ‘‘Ablute,’’ was the parting injunction as the door closed with a bang. Removing the bandage from over his eyes and survey- ing as much of his figure as the small glass would reflect, he agreed that the order was a wise one. Thirty minutes later he tried to get out ; the door was locked from the opposite side, and the ball, a little while before filled with a sound of tramping feet and stertorous breathing, was silens. Go- ing to the window he looked out. Four stories below him was the ground. There was no fire escape by which to reach it, no friendly projecting window sills by which he might swing himself down from story to story. Going back to the door he tried it again ; the creaking of the knob, which showed it still locked, was the only sound coming to him. Returning to the window again he looked out. This time two frowsy heads were leaning from a window on a line with his own, and let into the wall which formed at that point an angle. A board was slowly slipped from the window at which the two stood toward the sill of his own. “Is your head pretty steady?’’ asked one of them. “Try me,” said Petrie, as he hopped lightly on to the edge of the window. Two minutes later the board was drawn back into the room from which it had made its appearance. The frowsy-headed libera- tors nodded approval and Petrie grinned his thanks. It might have been ten minutes later and it might have been only five, when two long-haired youth of the University foot-ball team sauntered past Morecombe’s room. They returned, apparently as an after-thought, and inquired, ‘‘Have you let the new fellow out yet ?”’ Winston, Tweedie, and three other smoking companions sprang to their feet. ‘‘By Jove, we forgot him !"’ exclaimed one of them. Tweedie tiptoed out, softly unlocked the bath-room door and peeped through the crack as he opened it. ‘‘He’s gone,’ he shouted. In a flash there was a rush of feet along the passage. By a common impulse they packed into the open window and bending over each other craned their necks to look out. Below on the ground a figure was stretched at a full length, and face dewn- ward. ‘He fell ont !"”’ exclaimed Morecombe, hoarsely, steadying himself against the window-frame as he rose. There was a stampede on the stairs with the foot ball pair in the lead. Tweedie, who wore creaky shoes, fell down three steps at a time trying to run softly like the others. With a rush they made for the spot and then suddenly stopped short of it. Six feet away lay Petrie, face downward and groaning heavily. “Thank heaven he isn’t dead !'’ said more than one man under his breath. ‘‘You’re a ‘Med’,”’ ordered Morecombe of Winston; ‘‘see what’s the matter.” ‘‘See yourself,” was the unprofessional answer. Morecombe started forward, then stopped irresolute; Petrie’s groans were nerve rack- ing. The two frowsy headed youths ap- proached him and each passed an arm un- der Petrie’s prostrate body. As they rais- ed him every man heaved a sigh of relief. Slowly the procession moved toward the dormitory entrance. Petrie’s continued groanings drowned the excited whisperings of those who brought up the rear of the group. At their sound heads stretched from many windows, and by the time the stairs were reached every room was empty- ing its occupants into the hallways. Outside the new comer’s quarters the procession halted at the door and crowded tbe stairway, the foremost peering in as the football men put down their burden on the bed with a gentleness rare to one of their muscles. No sooner was this gravely. ac- complished than Petrie sat up with a grin. “I’m all right,’ he said. ; ‘‘He’s delirious,’’ cried Winston, reach- ing the side of the bed at a stride, firmly catching his shoulder, and forcing him back on the pillews. “I’m not,” retorted Petrie laughing,and at the same time struggling to elude the grip on his shoulder. But Winston held fast, his professional instinct that a moment ago had deserted him reasserting itself. ‘‘He’s delirious,”’ echoed the men at the door. ‘‘He’s delirious,’’ repeated Mrs. Watson, the matron, arriving at that moment in the hallway. Immediately back of her and with one hand fearfully catching the folds of her gown was the young lady from Milano Junction. This was too much! Petrie taking advantage of the sudden transfer of face of Miss Walker with attention to Mrs. Watson and her charge, eluded Winston’s grasp and sprang clear of | the bed. ‘“I tell you there’s not a thing wrong,”’ he cried, tively, fixing his eyes on the r assurance. But Winston was at his side before the words were ended. With Morecombe’s ‘help he d him back, struggling violently, and got him upon the bed again. ‘At this juncture Dr. Grimston edged his ‘way forward through the throng, his benev- olent face flushed with baste and concern. he matron advanced with him to the bed- e. Petrie’s eyes sought the doorway, but the figure of Miss Walker was missing. “I’m not delirious,’’ he cried, violently, this time addressing the doctor. ‘I’m as sound as a horse. It’s a joke.’” As he spoke he flung his arms and legs in the air to prove the truth of it, He could not stand up, for Winston was bearing his weight on him, ‘Yes, yes,” said the doctor, soothingly; ‘“‘you’ll be all right in a minute.”’ But the motion he made to Winston and Morecombe caused them to tighten their grip. In the fresh struggle that followed the two foot- ball friends sprang forward to help hold him more firmly. ‘Youn know I’m not delirious,’’ cried Petrie, eying them savagely. But at sight of their business like impertarbability he grew suddenly helpless. With a wave ‘of his arm Dr. Grimston cleared the room, his four assistants alone remaining. He would make a medical ex- amination of the patient. ‘Wonderful ! Wonderful !”’ he announe- ed to the waiting, anxious matron as he closed the door behind him. “He fell the four stories without sustaining a scratch. There is no case like it on medical record. Still, for fear of complications or internal injury he must stay quietly in bed. He’s a little flighty, but that’s to be expected. We'll keep him on a slim diet of warm milk and water and await develop- ments. I'll be in first thing in the morn- ing. His two friends, the football team boys they are, lbelieve—kind hearted fel- lows these athletes—have volunteered io take turns in sitting up with him tonight— 80 you needn’t disturb yourself, madam.’ ‘‘Really a wonderful case,”’ he kept on repeating to himself as he tramped across the campus. On his way home he was Stopped twice by reporters from the two daily papers. The news of the accident had already been heard in the city. But when the scribes learned that the victim had fall- en four stories withont sustaining the slight- est bodily injury, a thing hitherto unknown in the practice of medicine, each knew that he had a good front page column story to spread himself in before midnight. In- quiry at the dormitory served to bring out fresh details in the notable case. More- combe and Winston showed almost heroic reluctance to be interviewed in the matter, although the latter acknowledged with dig- nity that he had assisted Dr. Grimston in his examination. The two foot ball men alone appeared willing to tell all they knew and with great apparent frankness. In an houra brief mention of the remark- able occurrence had been wired all over the country by the Associated Press. The ‘Waco papes ordered special and lengthy dispatches on the subject. The next morn- ing, before the patient had been served a very small cap of hot milk and water, the matron had received a telegram from his mother making anxious inquiry. The story of the marvelous escape had been the most exciting item in the Waco papers of that morning. That night Mrs. Petrie herself arrived in Augstin. When she entered her son’s rfsom unannounced she found him sitting up in bed eating an apple. One of his foot ball friends was with him. In an endeavor to get a paper bag out of sight it burst in the hands of the athlete and more of the same fruit dropped to the floor. This incident settled the matter. The surprise of the ladies at the patient’s disregard of medical orders and the criminal connivance of one of his two self constituted nurses was not in- considerable. For the moment, growing quite purple in the face, he turned with an evident intention of flight, but second thought prevailed and he faced the invalid’s visitors. He had faced a rival team that meant rib breaking defeat with more pleas- urable emotions, and certainly with more visible courage, : Given as a slight respite as a centre of at- tention Petrie viewed the group before him and grinned for the first time in gwenty- four hours; then taking out an unfinished apple that a moment hefore had been hasti- ly thrust aouder his pillow, he ate with great relish. The football man began to unburden his conscience; what he said would be here a mere repetition, but his manliness in the saying of it was something that two of his hearers remembered. To Petrie the recol- lection of the supper allowed him later was an impression moreindelible. Never in bed before a day in his life, and since infancy a stranger to the limited diet of warm milk and water, his spirit up to that moment had been somewhat broken. For two days Morecombe, Winston, Gris- combe, and Tweedie saw each other only from a distance. When they met on the third the football friends were not present. Even this failed to relieve a certain air of restrains. ‘‘Well, tbe thing’s straightened out,’’ said Morecombe, with a rather forced at- tempt at a laugh. ‘‘Up to today I rather thought we should be that ourselves,’’ said Tweedie, ignoring the other’s attempt at jocosity. ‘‘I’ve had my trunk packed since the day before yes- terday.’”’ ‘‘If the whole truth of this thing ever gets out, and its pretty sure to,’’ moodily put in Winston, ‘I think we’d all be more comfortable if we did the same.’ ‘‘But they don’t know the inside of things and I reaiiy don’t know who is go- ing to be the one that’s likely to tell,’’ said Morecombe, still optimistic. ‘‘Half the people believed till today that he really did fall out of the window.’’ *‘I told yon we might tackle the wrong fellow when we tackled him,’’ interposed Winston, gloomily. ‘‘He stayed in bed for a day for his trick, anyway; that’s an offset,’”’ and Morecombe grinned. This time his gayety was less forced. . ‘It’s not up to the football wretches, anyway,’’ retorted Winston. ‘‘But it is to your colleague, Dr. Grim- ston,’’ said Tweedie, ironically. ‘‘He’s had three offers from medical journals already to send in an account of the case. Fellows come here quick ! Look at that !"’ All three followed the direction of his gaze out of the window. ‘‘It’s that Petrie with the pretty new girl from Milano Junction,” said Griscombe, disgustedly. ‘See how she’s looking up in his face 1? ‘She thinks he’s a hero—she told him s0,”’ Tweedie’s tone was bitingly scornful. ‘‘How disgusting 1’ snapped Morecombe. The sight proved too trying. In silence the four turned their backs on it.—By Wil- liam Armstrong in Leslie's Monthly for June. ~——Subscribe for the WATCHMAN, Educational Failure in the Philippines. Dr. Chamberlain Says the Brain Cure of Teachers is Worse than Water Cure of Soldiers. ‘‘We are making a failure of this scheme a monstrous, mortifying failure; not ir- remediable, perhaps, but fast becoming chronic, and requiring instant attention from those who are competent to modily ment in regard to our attempt to set up an American educational system in the Phil- ippines is made in an article in Gunton’s Magazine by Theodore de Laguna, Ph. D., a Cornell man who went to the Philippines ae a teacher. There is ‘widespread dis- gest’’ among the Filipinos for the Ameri- can educational scheme, he tells us, and the chief desire of the teachers is to ges back to America. All this is in strange contrast with the high hope that so many bad in the civilizing influence of that shipload of teachers that crossed the Pacific a year and a half ago. Dr. de ‘Laguna attributes the" failure to two principal causes—the quality of the teachers, and the attempt to impose the English language on the nasives. In re- gard to the teachers he says : ‘The teachers were a regiment of carpet baggers, come to exploit the country in their small way, and then, after a few years, would sail happily home without a regret to spare. ad everything gone smoothly with the work here, the carpes- baggers’ interests might have been sufficient to keep them at their task; but with the first breath of failure, it would be hard to find any class of men more liable to hope- less discouragement. Then, indeed, it be- came a mere question of living out one’s time somehow aud getting home again. ‘Few of the teachers bad any considera- ble knowledge of Spanish; scarcely any could speak it grammatically and fluently. in the class room as out of it. For though in these islands only a small percentage of the inhabitants can speak Spanish, it is none the less the established idiom of cul- ture. Every gentleman speaks it, almost without exception. Thus it happens that the American teacher in his ignorance of Spanish, and still more in his picturesque attempts to express himself in broken, un- grammatical phrases, puts himself upon the level of the boor and unavoidably ex- poses himself to contempt.’’ The teacher, :n time, may learn Spanish: but the native does not care to learn En- glish. : : “The scheme is to teach the Filipinos something for which they feel no immediate need, and, in which they take no direct in- terest, namely, the English language. Oth- er subjects have a place in the program, but the English language is practically the sole subject of instruction. “Why, then, do not the children learn it? Some do learn it, namely, the few that have a daily opportunity of using what they learn. In a few cities, where there are hosts of Americans, soldiers and citizens, English is a living tongue; but for the great multitude of Filipinos it is praoc- tically a dead language. “Why should a Filipino care to learn English? Not many reasons are conceiva- ble. In a few cities it might help many a boy to get employment, and in these cities English can be successfully tanght. Else- where it is important only for the govern- ing class, affecting, as it does, their commer- mercial and political interests. ‘‘But for the Filipino peasantry there is no motive for learning English, and accord- ingly they will not and can not learn it. A new language can only come to them with a new life; schooling cannot give it to them. Americans commonly suppose that these dialects are very simple affairs, consisting at most of a few hundred words, and with no very elaborate grammatical structure. This is far from being true. To speak of the Visayan language, to which I have giv- en some study, the richness of its vocabu- lary has been an ever recurrent occasion of wonder t0 me; and the beauty and consis- tency of its grammatical structure are ob- vious enough to charm even a very imper- fectly trained philologist.”’ Simultaneously with this declaration that our Philippine educational scheme is a failure in practice, comes a declaration by Dr. A. F. Chamberlain in the pedago- gical seminary that it is wrong 1n principle. He says : ‘*Education, no more than a nation, can exist half slave and half free—its motto, too, is liberty or death. To educate the Fili- pinos, without using to the full their lan- guage and their literature, the thousand: fold stimuli of their environment, their racial temperament and ideals, their past history and natural ambitions for the fu- ture, is to stunt them in body, mind and soul. We have let loose upon them the soldier, the trader, the school teacher and the missionary—and we talk about educa- tion ! The brain cure we are treating them to at the hands of our teachers is worse than the ‘water cure’ our soldiers gave them. In education, as in everything else connected with the ‘new colonialism’, we began wrong. We can change, if we will; for it is not altogether too late yet. But it must be a complete change and an lionest admission of error. To educate the Fili- pinos as Filipincs «nd not as Americans, is the real ideal. Let 10,000,000 Malays as such develop along the lines of their native genius, and some day the world will re- joice that they have been. Educate them through themselves and they will become strong, as their kinsmen the Japanese have done, adding a new star to the constellation of civilized races:’’ ‘ Cooks and Age. The 8et-in-Her-Ways Woman Slow to Learn. A friend of mine, writes Lady Violet Greville, bas recently been attending cook- ery olasses, and she says that out of the variety of women, ladies, cooks and ama- teurs that assisted at the lecturing the old cooks were the moss ignorant and trouble- some. They never would be taught to weigh or measure, and did everything by rule of thumb. They constantly dropped and spoilt things, and flourished the kitchen knives, to the terror of the other students. One day my friend made a cake herself and took it home, telling her cooks nothing but that it was bought. A few days later the cook suggested she should buy another at the same shop, as it wae so good. My friend naturally felt elated at such as spontaneous compliment, half the reason why cooks’ cakes are inferior comes from the want of care in the management of the oven. . Matches Eight Inches Long. The latest luxury for the smokers’ tray is the new English match that measures eight inches in length. Fifty of these fit a sumptuous silver and leather hox, which, with the cigars, is set upon the table at the conclusion of a dinner party. One match will light from 10 to 12 cigars or cigarettes. Sometimes, for the use of feminine smok- ers, these matches are made of Syrian cedar or aromatic East Indian woods and burn with the most delicious perfume. the situasion.’”” This rather startling state- | This was a serious handicap, not so much Carrying Water lo a Desert. Western Australia Is Bullding a Pipe Line to Gold Mines, 328 Miles Away. i Wester Astralia is Bow ong the ‘largest gold producers in the world. Twen- ty years ago the great desert east of the fringe of fertile grain lands and timber along the sea was not supposed to be worih a cent a square mile. The desert was wholly unknown, except that a few ex- plorers had made their toilsome way over the immense expause of sand; a few others less fortunate had perished in these forbid- ding wastes. wa Then it was found thas this Sahara was really to be the treasure house of the col- ony. The precious metal dug out of these sands has made the gold product of West- ern Australia equal to that of all the other States in the Commonwealth. Gold has helped the division of Australia to become one of the lustiest members of the British colonial Empire. : Around the great mining centre in tbe desert 50,000 people are living. It’s nat- ural to ask how they get water to supply their needs. The fact is, water is an ex- tremely scarce commodity there. It prob- ably does not bring so high a price in any other part of the world. ltwater is ob- tained without much difficulty by digging, but the cost of condensing it to procure fresh water is so great that every pint must be carefully used. ~ There is an ocea- sional shower, and every house and tens in the mining district is supplied with tanks to catch the rain water, but it is an unre- liable source of supply. The result 1s that every drop of water must be husbanded. ‘We bave no idea here, where water seems almost as free as air, how careful they are in the mining region of Western Australia to put every drop to the best use. It is not comfortable to be compelled to use water as thongh you never expected to have another pailfal. The inconvenience and discomfort due to this cause are a ter- rible drawbagk to that region, and nothing less than the greed for gold would induce anyone to submit to the incessant depri- vation. ! To-day Western Australia is hard at work to remedy this great need and to supply the Coolgardie and Kalgoorile min- ing districts with a good supply of water. The total cost of the work will not be less than $15,000,000, but it will solve the wa- ter problem. About twenty-five miles northward of Perth, near the sea and the capital of Western Australia, 18 the Green Mount range. The Helena river crosses this range through a deep valley. A dam 100 feet high has been built across the river, and the reservoir thus formed is seven miles in length and holds 4,000,000,000 gallons. It is necessary to lift the water 2,700 feet to the top of the mountains in order to give it sufficient headway to reach the gold camps out in the desert. The distance to Kalgoorlie, the furthest camp to be supplied, is 328 miles. The water is to be raised to the mountain top hy means of eight pumping stations, the machinery for which has been purchased at a cost of $1,500,000. At the summit of the mountains the pipe line begins. It is thirty inches in diameter and is laid a little under the sur- face along the railroad track, except that in crossing various salt lakes on the route it is supported on piers. It is hoped to deliver from the reservoir to the mining camps 5,000,000 gallons of fresh water daily. Even with this amount of water it is not expected that the mining population will have a drop to waste, ‘They will have to pay a good price for it. The charge to the miners, for example, will be $1.50 per 1,000 gallons at wholesale rates. We should probably bave little street sprink- ling, and gardens hose in the back yards of Brooklyn would become ohsolete if we bad to pay so high a price as this for the precious flaid. It is not expected that the project will become self-supporting for some time. The plant is to be owned by the State, and the deficit must be paid out of the general taxes. Even if the 50,000 persons to be supplied should require the works to run at their fullest capacity the pipe line would hardly meet expenses. It is believed, however, that an increased production of the gold will be made possi- bly by a good supply of water, and that the entire State will thus be benefited, for more miners will be required in the field, and practically all their supplies except machinery, come from the.farmers and merchants of Western Australia.—New York Sun. The Longest Word Again, Several days ago, in answer to an in- quiry, you stated that the longest ‘‘legiti- mate’’ words in the English language were valetudinarianism and latitudinarianism. Each of these words contains only seven- teen letters. There are a large number of words given in the Century Dictionary con- taining twenty letters, all of which seem to be legitimate, though I hardly under- stand what is meant by that term. I name a few of these : Contradistinguishing, Incomprehensibleness, Intercommunicability, Interdestructiveness, Philoprogenitiveness. The longest word, however, that I have been able to find in that dictionary is transubstantiationalist, «which contains twenty-three, or, in the plural, twenty- four letters. There is also another word containing twenty-three letters, which you may not consider ‘‘legitimate,’”’ electro- photomicography. * . Pu D, While I sit corrected—and humble—I am inclined to echo the query of another correspondent who eases the weight of in- formation similar to that given by ‘‘O. P. D.” by the question : ‘‘But why should we care to know what the longest word in the language is, anyhow?’ 1am a grate- ful that such jawbreakers as the last cited by ‘0. P. D.”’ are not ‘‘legitimate’’ word- currency. The Wandering Boer. Is Emigrating in Considerable Numbers Since the War. A new feature of German colonial devel- opment, says the British Am or ab Berlin, is the increase of Boer immigration into the German South African colonies, which has become acute since the conclu- sion of the war. An increase of 1031 in the white popula- tion of Southwest Africa is largely due to Boer immigration. manshoop. in the south of the colony, there are 1133 Boers as against 268 Germans, 90 British subjects and 27 other nationalities. The German Colonial Administration maintains, however, a favrrable attitude towards Boer immigration, It is pointed out that the indigent Boer ‘‘never becomes a settler in the proper sense of that word, but travels about the country in an ox wagon with his wife and family and a small herd of cattle, doing incalculable damage to the wells, pastures and timber along his route.” In the district of Keet-- — Hick’s July Forecasts, 1903. First storm periods is central on the 2nd and 3rd, being reinforced by the Mercury disturbance a its centre. In consequence we will come into July with cloudy weath- er and drizzling rain in -many sections. On and touching the 2nd and 3rd this unset- tled condition will grow into more pro- nounced storm conditions.’ It will turn much warmer, the atmosphere wlll. grow muggy and close, the barometer. will fall and some solid thunder storms, with local rains, will paes over the country in their usual order. A change to cooler will come along behind the rain and wind ‘at this period. : wise Second storm period extends from ‘the 76h to the 11th, being central on the 9th, the moon being at extreme south on the 7th, full on the 9th and in apogee on the 10th. The first stages of this period bring extremely warm weather, wish south winds and falling barometer. About the 9th cloudiness and storms will form in western extremes and begin their eastward march across the country, reaching their culminat- ing stages on the 10th and 11th. Heavy local dashes of rain will be natural, bat we do not believe that wide-spread and noak- ing rains will fall. Behind the blustering Storminess and thunder look for rising barometer, westerly winds and cooler, clearing weather. The 14th and 15th another great wave or pulsation of heat will arise, along which the barometer will fall, and many eleotric- al, threatening storm clouds will arise on and touching the 15th. Change to rising barometer and cooler will come about the 16th to 18th. We believe that a general and persistent heated term will prevail at this time, that the barometer will not fall to very low readings, the hygrometer will not indicate high bumidity, but that some very decep- tive storm clouds will appear, bringing some heavy gusts of wind and dust, bunt blowing over with only light rain, except in narrow localities. The new moon in perigee on the 24th promises to delay and drag the phenomena of the fourth period up to about that day. In this event, there will be some quite heavy storms on and about the 24th, which perturbed condition will lead forward into the next period. The 25th, the 26th and 27th are central days of a reactionary storm period, on and about which there will be a climax of sum- mer heat, unless severe thunder storms de- velop about the 24th. We suggest that the things to look for at this period will be an excessively warm wave, and that about the 27th there will come a rapid fall of the ba- rometer, quickly followed by wicked wind and thunder storms in many parts of the country. Light rains will accompany these storms in most places, with possible cloud burst, in scattered localities. A ricing barometer and change to cooler weather will follow these storms for a few days. July comes to its close with the first stages of a regular storm period form- ing in western sections. Quaint and Curious. The telephone can no longer be legally used by German physicians in dictating prescriptions to druggists, because of the chances of fatal misunderstandings. 2 ——— Regarding cuckoos, it is said that the long tail of these birds so interfered with their balancing that they have necessarily developed strong feet with two toes point- ing backward and two forward.: By this arrangement the cuckoos are able firmly to grasp their perch. — An examination of the records of the classes of Yale alumni shows Yale ison the same footing as Harvard with regard to the birth and marriage statistics of which President Elliot complained in his an- nual report. Graduates of Yale average two children to a family. An eagle having a weight of sixteen pounds can carry away a lamb weighing sixty pounds. To do this it must develop about two horse-power and must put a strain of more than 1100. pounds on the musoles of the wings. This leads one to think that ‘‘birds are stronger than mathe- matics."’ A species of tree found in Oregon, Wash- ington, Mantana and British Columbia, continually [drips pure and clear water from the ends of its leaves and branches. The tree is a species of fir. The ‘‘weep- ing?’ is attributed to a remarkable power 4) Sondensasion peculiar to the leaves and rk. s The ancients did not have lightning rods constructed as ours are, but they had lightning conductors, which shows that they knew how to protect themselves from the danger that lies in a thunder storm. Even so long ago as the tenth century lightning was diverted from fields by plans- ing in them long sticks or poles, on top of which were lance heads. It is said that the Celtic soldiers used to try to make themselves safe from the stroke during a storm by lying on the ground with their naked swords planted point upward beside them. A curious railway accident is reported from India by Cosmos. About one and a quarter miles from Rampore ‘‘a train com- posed of an engine, thirteen passenger cars and three other cars, was seized and over- turned by a tornado. The phenomenon was absolutely local, since nothing was noticed at the station just left by the train, and except for the upsetting of a few native huts, there appears to have been no other damage done. The number of the wounded is not exactly known, for the Hindu passengers fled panic-stricken in an instant. Thirteen persons were killed and fifteen wounded are known. Some of the cars were turned end for end, indicating a whirlwind.” Thread Worth $6060 a Pound. The dealer had sold the young woman a number of beads—he sold them fo her, for some reason, at five cents a thimbleful— and now he showed her some fine French | flaxen thread, the kind that the most ex- pert lacemakers use. ‘I brought this thread home from Francs with me for a curiosity,” he said. ‘It |s like cobweb, isn’t it? Out of it laces a3 valuable as jewels and paintings are made. ‘“The thread is valuable in itself. A pound of it—there is not an ounce here— would cost $600. There would be ina pound one thread 226 miles long.’ t ———————————— } Currant-and-Raspberry Sherbet. Boil a quart of water and a pint of Sus 20 minutes. Add a teaspoonful of gelatine, softened in cold water and strain. Whe cold, add a cup and a-balf of currant jui and balf a cap of red raspherry juice an freeze as usual. dud ey \ , > lan
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers