}
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
\
,
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