Bellefonte, Pa., November 29, 1907.
MOTHER -HUNGER.
If only | could find her—for the mother-hun-
ger's on me;
I want to see her, touch her, to know her |
close beside;
I want to put my head in the hollow of her
shoulder,
1 want to teel her love me as she did before
she died.
In all the world is nothing, love of husband or
of children,
In all the world is nothing that ean soothe
me or can stir
Like the memory of her fragile hand on which
the ring was slipping—
The hand that wakes my longing at the very
thought of her,
The window in the sunshine and the empty
chair beside it,
The loneliness that mocks me as 1 find the
sacred place!
O Mother, is there naught in the unerring
speech of silence
To let me know your presence, though I can.
not see your face?
Thank God that I have had you—that we held
each other closer,
As women and as sisters and as souls that
claimed their own,
Than any tie of blood could bind; and now my
heart is bleeding,
My heart is bleeding Mother, and yours is
turned to stone!
0, no, I've not forgotten the triumph and the
glory—
I would nct bring you back again to struggie
and 0 pain.
This hour will pass; but O, just now, the moth
er-hupger's on me,
And | would give my soul tonight to kiss
your hair again,
— [Good Housekeeping.
PAPA'S STRATAGEM,
Mr. Gorton Traverse surveyed lugubri-
ously the array of trunks being dumped in
the anteroom of the Paris apartment. There
were nineteen pieces, not counting hat-
boxes and other minor impedimenta. Each
one, as it was deposited by the ting
commissionaires, seemed to Mr. verse
another stone dumped on the grave of his
bappy past, another cable bindizg him to
the peripatetic existence of the present.
There bad been only six at the start when
the family—that is Mrs. Traverse and Miss
Cecilia Enders Traverse—bad sailed from
the New York pier. To these had been
gathered the rest, like the rolling ball of
snow.
The two ladies had not returned to their
native land rince that winter day ; but
“ ,'! pleading business necessities from
time to time, bad made furtive excursions
across the Atlantio to the shores of the sky-
scrapers and ‘‘deals.”” On these occasions
he had livgered in his old bannts as long
as a strong sense of domestic privilege and
obligation had permitted ; then with lag-
ging feet had returned to the ever moving
bearthstone. Unfortuvately, as he had
come privately to feel, the Traverse share
of the vatioual prosperity was go large, so
abounding and solid shat there could be no
exouse for bis remaining permanently io
his native laud ; his goods were all where
they could not be stolen; where they must
go on earning dividends and multiplying.
This time the family had emerged from
Spain, from Biskra—they bad read ‘‘The
Garden of Allah’ —from Alexandria, where
four months before he had joined them for
the Nile trip. As he drew forth from his
cigar-case a orisp Bock and reflected for the
firth time that day bow inferior the Euro-
pean variety of cigar is to its American
brother, he wondered vaguely whether he
could invent a sufficiently plausible excuse
to escape to New York before the holidays,
The stock market looked ‘‘spotty,’”’ and a
bank in which he was interested was about
to swallow another bank in which he was
also interested. Bat the only stocks that
be owned were too sound to develop any
spots, avd when the banks had swallowed
each other che only effect would be to dou-
ble the dividends that he was now draw-
ing. He eighed. Mr. Gorton Traverse
was a heavy, sallow mao, with a great
shock of gray hair, and bad the ponderous
manner that is a business asset. The opera-
sions of his mind were slow and sare-foot-
ed : he never made mistakes—in invest.
ments.
Mrs. Traverse, who had been in the new
motor for a preliminary reconnaissance
with the dressmaker, entered at this mo-
ment, with a rustle of underwear, a dang-
ling of chains, and a waving of plumes.
Behind her came Cecilia, taller and alen-
derer than her mother, with a lesser rustle
of appurtenances.
“‘S8o the trunks have come at last I’ Mrs.
Traverse exclaimed in a gratified tone.
“I should say they had,” Gorton Traverse
granted. ‘Tell that fellow to wait with
the car, will you, Liddy? I want bim to
take me to the bank.”
It was his custom to defer any orders to
the servants until his wife or daughter
could translate them into snitable French,
Italian, or German, as the case might be.
He bad had several regrettable experiences
in giving unintelligible commands to for-
eign ears.
‘“‘Are you going to the bank again to-
day ?" Mrs. Traverse inquired severely.
‘Yes-- there's trouble in the market over
there. I want to see the latest cables.’
“Oh m
“I may find that I must run across,
Liddy,” he ventured.
Mrs. Traverse eyed him in cold silence,
but having gone thus far he added boldly :
“It’s bard fora man to attend to Dis
business thousands of miles away !"’
‘““Basiness !"’ his wife sniffed. She was
aware of the impregnability of the Traverse
fortune. “Why go bask to that io,
Gorton ?"’ she demanded severely. ‘‘You
know why it has to be.”
‘Just because a Youse fellow wants to
marry a girl, to be kept out of your home
for two years and more,” he grumbled
openly, seeing that Cecilia bad departed to
give his order to the chauffeur.
‘‘Rather because Cecilia was guite will.
ing to marry the young man,’ bis wife cor-
rected. ‘‘You forget, Gorton, that we lefs
only just in time to prevent an awful scan-
dal.’”’ Bbe shuddered.
*‘It amounts to the same thing, so far as
I can see,’’ Traverse replied morosely.
‘Not exactly : the difference is—Eun.
r
on, well, how long is it going on, I
want to know | I should think two years
was long enough to fix a matter of that
sors.
Every time that the family resettled it.
sell Mrs. Traverse bad to undergo a soene
of this nature. It came with engaging new
servants, with a obange of habits or food.
Bhe bad met this incipient rebellion the
| previous spring in London, the autumn be-
| fore in Rome. Her husband’s memory of
| the family orisis that had sent them flee-
| ing to Earope had to be revived on each
| ocoasion, and she was forced to recount the
steps that had originally moved tbem out
| of their big, sprawling American home and
| dumped them on the shores of Europe. In
| brief, as the story rau, the inexperienced
| Cecilia bad surrendered ber heart with
, characteristic promptness and fervor to an
| undesirable young man, a Mr. Percy
Mapes, a “‘elerk or something’ in a rail-
road office—olearl. , uvcontrovertibly an
impossible psison with obscure antecedents,
a tenuous present, and a tenebrous future.
Moreover, it was rumored in the fellowshi
of mothers that his habits were ‘‘bad.’
There was not one redeeming feature to
him except his seductive personality with
which he had made an indelible impression
on Cecilia's tender heart. But it was not
to be considered- Miss Traverse, the
daughter of Gorton Traverse, the grand-
danghter of ex Governor Enders, the only
ohild of Second National and Metiopolitan
Union National Bank stock, of Bluff City
Consolidated, eto., ete. ! The imperti-
pence of ‘‘shat puppy Mapes’’ still brought
color to Mis. Traverse’s cheeks. Never-
theless, the impertinent puppy bad kept
she Traverse family out of their vative
laud for nearly three years, while presam-
ably he was enjoying himsell at home—
and waiting their return.
““If you bad only been willing to accept
the connt’s offer,” Mrs. Traverse remarked
meaniogly.
“Pay three hundred thousand for him I’
her husband growled. ‘He isn’t worth
thirty cents. Why, many a time I've
given a quarter to fellows like him on the
street at home. And Cis wounldn’t take
him either. Well, I'm going to
the bank.”
The stolid man rose with a sigh and laid
down his cigar. His'wile looked sympathet-
ically at his bulking majesty. He was a
Colossus—iu Cleveland, U. 8. A. ; but in
Europe he resembled a piece of discarded
statuary over whioh one was likely to stom-
ble.
“I wish, Gorton, you could find some
interest to ocoupy your time. Other men
do, like Charlie Gow and Seamans : they
are not bored all the time.”
“I'm soo old, Liddy, to take an interest
in art or motor-cars,’’ Gorton Traverse re-
lied with dignity, ‘‘and I don’t like the
pe either.”
"Perhaps Cecilia will accept Mr. Light-
body. She likes him and he's very atten-
tive.
‘‘Is he the fellow at the legation ?'’
““The military attache, and he may be
transferred to Washington. I think Cecilia
would like Washington.”
“How much would he want if Cecilia
took him?’ Traverse inquired alertly.
“Gorton ! Mr. Lightbody comes of a
very fine Virginia family.”
*‘That kind is generally poor enough to
take what it can get,’’ papa remarked with
business sententionsness, as the man hand-
ed bim into his coat and hat.
At the bank there was a flutter in the
litle crowd of American men—tourists
and expatriates—who were gathered about
the diminutive board where a nimble
French clerk was posting the New York
quotations of the opening market. The
‘spotty ’’ market bad evidently broken out
into a lively small panic. Gorton Traverse,
stolid and #ad, stood on the edge of the
group and watched the quotations antil bis
heavy eyes fired. Something was on in
Bluff City Consolidated. An acquaintance
fresh from the New York steamer gave
him some soraps of the street gossip, and
when Cecilia called for him in the motor
his eyes were almost beaming with resolu.
tion.
“Going bome, papa ?”’ Cecilia, who knew
the signs, asked sympathetically. :
““Yes—tell him to stop at the Lloyd of
fice. The Kaiser sails Thursday,” he re-
plied briskly,acd added in heavy bypoorisy:
“There's trouble over there—panic—must
see to things personally.”
“Don’t you want tc take a berth for me,
papa ?"’ she asked, snuggling oloser to him
under the rug.
“Why, Cis—yon know your mother
wouldn’t bear of it!”
“Couldn’t we elope ?'’ she suggested
with a mischievous smile of recollection.
Papa lavghed a hearty appreciation of
the joke, a laogh that he rarely emitted in
Europe.
“That would be bard on your mother,
wocldn’t it ? What would she say I"
‘“That it was all your fault.”
‘I guess she would, Cie—and something
wore.”
As the car became involved in the snarl
of traffic in front of the Opera, the girl's
hand stole to her father’s arm and squeezed
it coaxingly.
“Did you see him, last time ?"’
“Him 2"
“Don’t bluff, papa!"
“No—I didn’s.”
‘But you heard about him? Was he—
married ?”’
no that I know of. I guess he’s all
t
‘It’s a loug time !"’ she sighed.
“Three years next spring,’’ he sighed
with ber. As the motor started into life
with a jerk, be remarked irrelevantly :
‘Your mother thinks that Mr. Lightbody
is a good sort of man.”
Cecilia pinched the fat band beneath the
“You're #0 easy, papa! . . . Mr.
Lightbody is a good sort of man—to play
tennis with.”
They both laughed.
“So you won't take me ?"’ Cecilia said
as the motor stopped in front of the steam-
ship office.
“I'd like to I"
“You'll take a letter for me ?"’
‘‘Cis—wounld that be the square thing to
mother ?"’
The girl pouted.
II
Things were ‘‘doing”’ down among the
skyscrapers Wall street way. Gorton Tra-
verse had kept himsell for six
weeks between the oy pay Cleve-
iand,and had almost his troubles.
He had been welcomed back to the old
lunch table at the club, to his vice-presi-
dent's desk at the bank, to the solemn
financial councils ; he
Tan
ty.
ed perceptibly; his heavy face bad assum.
ed the set look that comes from concealing
important information,
Now the time was fast coming when he
must sail once more for Europe : the
domestic cord had been pulled, uot vio-
lently, but firmly. In another week a
vew Atlantic leviathan would be bearing
him to the hosom of his family. As the
close of a busy day he was sitting in the
lobby of his New York hotel, ing the
throng eddying about the marble pillars on
the rugged pavement, There were familiar
faces in the throng that nodded deferential.
ly or amicably as him. The the mar-
bles, the node gave him a pleasant, home-
like feeling, en his sense of bimsell.
He sighed heavily in contemplation of the
immense homelessness of Earope. There
was nothing like this over there, not such
busy, restless crowds of well dressed
ple, not such gorgeous marbles and rugs in
the hotels, not sach a noise of elevators and
call-boys, such movement, such life! He
preferred this to all the boulevards of Paris
—and the sicker clicking cheerily just
around the corner in the bar room.
He thought with complacency how much
money he had made these six weeks, then
remembered that he would have lost noth-
fog if he had stayed away. . . Bigh-
ing heavily again, he became aware that a
man, a well-dressed young man, was star-
ing at him with the air of knowing him, yet
hesitating to intrude on bis solitude, Sod-
denly the young man came forward with
rapid decision, holding out his hand :
“Mr. Traverse! How are you?"
“Mr. Mapes, isn’t it?’ the older man
acknowledged the salutation stiffly with-
out rising from his seat, and added alter a
moment : ‘“‘I am very well, sir.”
In spite of the cold reception the young
man stood in front of him aod continoed
bis inguiries :
“How is Mrs. Traverse ?’
‘Very well, thank youn.”
“And Ceo—your daughter?’
“All right. They are in Paris,” Tia-
verse volunteered, a trifle less stiffly.
*‘I know !”* the young man exclaimed
with a suppressed smile.
“I'm sailing Saturday to join them.”
“Yon spend a good deal of time abioad,”’
the young man observed pleasautly.
“Yes—most of the time. My wile and
daughter like it over there.’
Unconsciously his voice had become
friendlier in response to the sympathetic
tone of the young man, and as a group of
le brushed by them he looked invit-
ingly at the vacant seat heside him. The
young man promptly sat down, saying :
““And how do you like it over there ?"’
“Well, not so much as my wile. There
isn't much for a man to do, if he can’t
speak auy language but English. I don’t
speak foreign languages, so I have to keep
to the hotels or nse guides, and they aren't
satisfactory. Europe's a good enough place
to live in, if you are interested in art and
such things. But for an active man like
myself it gets pretty slow sometimes, pretty
slow I”
He was pouring out his woes with an
unaccustomed abandon : his heart was sore
over the Saturday boas. The young wan
listened with lowered eyes, nodding sym-
pathetically at the right places.
‘‘America is the place for a live man to
live in I"” Gorton Traverse concluded in
a final burss.
“I expect that's s0,”’ the young man
agreed with a pleasant smile. “Still, I'd
like the chance to get over there ! Perhaps
I will go some day.”
‘““How are things going with you?’ the
older man inquired with a touch of em-
barrassment. He was conscious that he
was in some way not keeping faith with
his wife, yet he was loath to snub the
young man. He had never been able to
take the severe point of view that Mrs.
Traverse held about him. As a young
man, seen from the distance of middle age,
he seemed attiactive; bat Gorton Traverse
had accepted his wife's anthority on the
question of his undesirabilisy as a husband
for Cecilia. She ought to know about this
matter : she gave it her undivided atten-
tion. ‘‘You're still in the Central 2"
‘Ob, I got out of that two years ago.
I'm with Dale & Drew now, the bankers.
In their New York office.”
He did not attempt to suppress the satis-
faction it gave him to communicate this
information.
“They're good people,” Traverse ob-
served. ‘‘They’re interested in Bluff City
Consolidated, aren’t they ?"’
And the two men slid off into a short-
band conversation of underwriting, syodi-
oates, poole, mortgage bonds,and debenture
stock, from which they emerged an boar
later when the young man glanced at his
watch.
“It’s about time to eat—won’t youn dine
with me ?”’ Traverse asked impuisively.
The next moment he remembered his wife
and trembled-looked about him furtively to
assure himself that no acquaintances were
resent who might betray his weakness,
e young man, observing the sudden
change of expression, smiled and said slow-
ly : “Not to-night, thank you—engage-
ment—sorry.’’
Gorton Traverse looked his relief, and as
he gave him his haod said :
“Well—another—"'
“Won't you drop in at the office tomor-
row ? I can give you those figures then and
Mr. Drew will be pleased to tell you all
you want to know about that syndicate.’
*‘Perbaps I will, perbaps I will!” He
was grateful to the young man for saving
him so gracefully from his own awkward-
ness. He watched him sink into the throng
—an alert, handsome figure—aund his heart
was immediately engulfed in that loneli-
vess from which the young man had resca-
ed him, temporarily.
‘Perhaps Cis knows better than we do!"
he muttered as he lounged into the diving-
room for his solitary meal,
Aud there over his dinner was horn the
first stratagem, the first duplicity, that had
ever entered into Gorton Traverse's deal-
ings with his wife. It penetrated subtly
his slow-moving mind as course by course
the dinner was placed before him, And
when he entered the ‘‘Pompeian room’
for his coffee he smiled a broad, sly smile.
Im
It was usually a seasick and melancholic
visage that Gorton Traverse presented to
his family on bis retarn fro: his expedi-
tions to his native land. But this time
when he alighted from the boat train at
Saint-Lazaire be joked and smiled to an
extent hardly to be accounted for by a
“splendid passage, good company,’’ nor by
the favorable report of business. Mis, Tra-
verse bad too much good sense, however, to
delve into the mystery of causes when re-
sults were satisfactory.
‘“‘How’s Lighufinger ?’’ he asked his wile
when they were alone for a moment, Mis,
Traverse looked searchingly at him, bus as
ber husband was never known to attempt
puna she replied briefly :
“You mean Mr. Lightbody ? He has
been recalled. . . . Cecilia and I are
thinking of taking the care at Aix.”
“Cure for what? Can’t we stay here
awhile ? Paris is pretty gay, isn’t it ? The
Balan Jum opened—I want to see some pic
res,
Mrs. Traverse started at this anexpected
iterest in fine art. Traverse turned to his
aughter,
* bat are you doing to-morrow morn-
ing Cia ?
‘We are still shopping and—"’
““That Salon is open mornings >’
‘Of course, it's always open.”’
“Your father shows a surprising interest
in modern art,” Mrs. Traverse remarked
in her best sarcasm.
“The Salon is very poor this year.”
“If I'm going to live over here the rest
of my life, I think it’s time I gos interested
in some of heir paint and olay works,”
Traverse explained with ponderous jocosity.
EMA
“And I want you, Cis, to take me there
to-morrow avd introduce me. Mother can
stay at home. She knows too much for a
*" is positively gay, and he has a
sl Pugh > bim, 100," Ceoilia comment
after a scrutinizing glance at ber fath-
peo- | beginner.”
OF. os »
However ignorant Gorton Traverse might
be of art in spite of his ed residence
abroad, be seemed on morrow to know
exactly what he wished to see. When the
motor bad deposited the two at the great
stucco entrance and the tickets had been
procured, he pushed his way into the 10-
tunda, whiob was crowded with the usual
gaping throng trying earnestly to nutangle
the maze of warble with the aid of cata-
logues. In spite of Cecilia's remonstrances,
be pushed steadily on until he came toa
remote corner of the right wing where cer-
tain colossal pieces repose l in popular ne-
gleet. Here his pace slackened and be gave
himself time to breathe and look about at
the cold marble countenances of celebrities.
“Papa,” Cecilia observed ‘‘what makes
you so keen about portrait busts ? Are you
going to have yourself done? . . Tell me!”
—she came in close to his arm and spoke
begnilingly—"‘did you see him ?"’
Traverse examioed the name at the
base of a heoric piece without replying.
“I know you did ?”’ Cecilia persisted.
‘Is he—well ? What did he say ? Ob,
dear, tell me bow he looks !"’
But her father skirted the pedestal in his
investigation and was lost to view on the
other side of President Carvos. He failed
to emerge, and at that moment a young
wan sauntered oot from a group of sight-
seers and raised hie bat.
“You !"! Cecilia gasped. ‘‘And papa—"'
“‘We crossed on the same boat ; we bad
a splendid passage !"”’
*‘So papa said. . . .”
Gorton Traverse did not emerge from
the shadow of President Carnot. Instead
he wandered off into distant mazes of the
vast ball, got mixed up in a group of
heathen goddesess that sens him upstairs
to the galleries, where after trampiog a
number of dusty miles hetween walls of
paint he was rescued by an attendans, who
comprehending the language difficutly took
bim by the arm and led him to an exit.
This was on the opposite side of the build-
ing from the entrance where the motor had
been left, but Traverse boldly threw him-
self into a cab, waving his hand and saying
io English : “Go anywhere !”’ The driver
went out into the broad, sunny avenue and
rambled upward toward the Arch, while
Traverse smiled to himself and enjoyed the
Bath atmosphere as be had never done be-
ore.
“I gues! they'll find the motor all right
when they want it,”’ he murmured, and
then it occurred to him that a momentous
and difficalt duty remained before him.
Payiog his cab, he descended and started
homeward, preferring to trast his sense of
locality to his ability - to direct the ocoach-
man. Ib spite of the lowering face of dut
be still smiled and seemed contented wit!
himself. He sniffed the air and walked as
a man who sees visions, and not the least
happy vision was the picture of a big spraw-
ling house on the bluff above the lake at
Cleveland, Ohio.
“Where is Cecilia ?’’ Mrs. Traverse de-
manded in mild suprise when her husband
appeared alone.
**Jen’t she home yet ? I left ber among
the statues some time ago—"’
*‘Left Cecilia there alone !"’ Something | TE ea
on's .
in her husbhand’s manner gave ber exclama-
tion a touch of sternness. Gorton had not
been quite himself since he had landed.
“Not all alone—with a liiend, a Joung
man,” Traverse replied famblingly. “They
are there yet, I expect, unless they have
gone somewhere else,”
The remark sounded foolish, but Mrs.
Traverse suspeoted that it contained more
point than shone on the surface,
**Who is this young man that you saw
fit to leave Cecilia alone with ?"’
She went boldly forward to meet the
trath, aod her husband fluttered. It was
the first piece of double-dealing he had
ever attempted with Mrs. Traverse, and
he bad the transparency of the novice,
‘“It’s no use, Liddy !"’ he exclaimed, in
a roth. “Of course it's him. You bave
done your best for three years. You have
bad your own way. Isn’s it about time
now for me and Cis? And he’s a good fel-
low, and smart, too, He'll beat Light-
body all over the pasture, take my word
for that! I kuow a man—"'
*‘Gorton Traverse I" That was all that
she found to say as she rose swiftly and
started for the door.
‘It’s no use, Liddy. You couldn't find
a thing in that place. I counldn’t bave got
out if it hadn’t been for a guard, and there
are about a million people. Just wait
bere and think it over with me. They'll
be back soon enough.”
Mrs. Traverse walked toand fro, realizing
unpleasantly the limits of the tether.
‘‘I don’t believe they will get married
without letting us know,’’ U'raverse threw
in by way of comfort. ‘‘He isn’t that kind
—though he’s had to wait long enough.”
‘‘And so this was the business that call-
ed you back ?"’
‘*No—no, I can’t say that.
incidentally.
dy 1’
Mrs. Traverse made one more trip across
the room, ther sank vanquished into a
chair. Her husband hitched forward his
chair opposite to her, and resting a fat fist
on either knee said sympathetically :
‘“Do the best you can, Liddy. . . .
It’s hard on you, but it’s been hard on us!’
He canght the sound of voices beyond
the anteroom.
“I moess they're coming now. . . .
The old place looks pretty fine, Liddy !
We can be home for the first roses. . . .”
—By Robert Herrick, in Collier's,
It came in
It was an inspiration, Lid-
Japanese Vegetable Milk,
Io a recent number of a Japanese jour-
pal a Mr. T. Kalajama described a process
for the manufacture of a vegetable milk,
the properties of whioh will render it high-
ly suitable for use in tropical countries.
The preparation is obtained from a well-
known member of the leguminous ily
of plants (namely, the bean,) wh
is a very papuiae artiole of food umong the
Chinese. e beans are first of all Jon
ed by soaking, and are shen pressed and
boiled in water. The 1esnltant liquid is
exactly similar to cows’ milk in appear-
ance, but is is entirely different in its com-
position. This Soja bean-milk contains
82 5 per cent. water,3 02 per cent. protein,
2.13 per cent. fat, 0.03 per cent. fiber, 1.88
r cent. non-nitrogenons substances, and
.41 per cent. ash. Kalajama added some
sugar and a little poosphate of potassinm
(in order to prevent the elimination of the
albomen) and then hoiled the mixture
down, ill a substance like condensed milk
was obtaived ; this ‘condensed vegetable
milk” is of a yellowish color and has a very
leasant hardly to be distinguished
rom that of real cows’ milk. However, it
still retains the aroma of the Soja bean. It
is recommended as a oheap and good sub-
stitute for condensed cows’ milk.
A Night in the Wireless Station.
There are on the American side of the
Atlantic several wireless stations which are
in touch with the outgoing or incomiug
steamers for from two to three day’s dis-
Coy Tor, rs Si Atay
y ,0ue at ponack,
L. I, about ninety-five miles from Sandy
Hook, two more far at sea, at Nantucket
and on Sable Island, and the last outpo-t
far down ov the gray Newfouudland coast
above the dreaded rocks of Cape Race. In
addition to these is she great Cape Cod
station at South Wellfleet, Mass., which,
in covjunction with one of equal power in
Ireland, furnishes the daily news bulletins
to all ships equipped to receive them from
continent 10 continent.
Leaving the railroad at Bridgehamp
ton the wayfarer in search of the Sagapo
vack station travels coastward for two or
three miles. Then we begin to bear the
murmur of the sea, and to smell ite salty
fragrance, and we know that the journey’s
eud is near. Long before, visible as itis
for miles around, we could see a slender
white mast rising far above the bighest
treetops. Coming round a toru in the road
it is seen entire, surrounded by a network
of guy ropes, the whole not unlike the
frame of an enormoans tent, with the apex
over ove hundred and sixty fees above she
soil.
At the foot of the pole are a few small
white building, from which shin strands
of wire rise to its summit; near the road
is a tiny cottage, formerly a ‘‘summer cot-
tage,’’ but now the residence of she opera-
tors, into which the telegraph line that bas
accompanied us from she railroad finally
disappears.
Let us suppose we have a message to
send. The vessel we wish to reach bas
sailed from New York about three in she
afternoon, #0 about eight we step inside the
office as the small room beneath the mast
proves to be. It is a room about eight feet
by twelve. A long table on oue side of
the room covered with meaningless instru-
ments with a lamp burning brightly above
it, a emall table across the room witha
land telegraph outfit, a large chart on the
wall showing the position of all steamers
equipped with the wireless for every day
of the current month, a few chairs, log
book and form pads; these constitute the
farniture.
There are two men in the room, one at
the desk with the telegraph instruments,
the other before the long table with a tele-
phone receiver held at his ear hy a contri.
vance such as telephone girls wear. They
look ap as we enter, greeting ns pleasantly
and inquiringly. They are English, as most
of the men in thisservice are. We explain
that we want to send a message to the Teu-
tonic. Ae one of them hands us a form—a
“‘telegraph’’ form it is merely ocalled—the
man at the receiver says, ‘On, yes, I shall
get the Teatonio soon, she is juit saying
good-by to the Babylon station now. (This
station bas since been abandoned.) Must
bave been delayed; she should bave been
along here an hour ago.”’
After a little he takes the receiver from
his ear. ‘‘I ought to get her now,” he
says touching a giant telegraph key about
six inches long. Instantly from between
two brass balls on the table a stream of
sparks leaps forth and the air of the little
room is filled with the almost deafening
hissing clamor. So mavy long, so many
short, TC. TC, T C, the Teutonic call
several times repeated, followed by the sta.
again puts the receiver to his ear. No an-
swer. Either the ship's operator has lefs
his instroments or else there is something
wrong. But that isn’t likely,ss our opera-
tor heard Teutonic talking with Babylon
not ten minutes ago Another call and
again no response. The man looks at the
clock, then says : ‘‘He’s gone to dinner ;
we shan’t hear anything from bim for half
an hour.
“Yes, it keeps them guite husy for the
first twenty-four hours out,’ he continues.
‘Suppose the boat sails in the afternoon as
this ove did. Well, be was in touch with
Sea Gate right from the start until he got
Babylon; he's just got time now to geta
hite of something before he picks us up;
we'll keep him up till eleven or after, and
by four o'clock tomorrow morning Sias-
conset (Fantucket) will be calling him.
After that there is Sable Island aud Cape
Race, to say nothing of passing ships and
daily news reports. No, they don’t have
but one man except on a few of the biggest
shipe during the summer.”’ All this while
the other men has been occasionally listen:
ing at the receiver.
Now he says quietly: ‘‘“There’s some-
thing out there, hut I can’t quite make it
out.” Westop talking and all is still, but
the desultory sighing of the sea, of a few
frogs croaking in the marsh, and the faint
barking of a dog back in the country.
““Ah,’ says the man at the receiver. ‘‘It's
the Ryndam comive in, forty-five miles
south-west of here. I'll ask him if he can
raise the Tentonio.”’
More sparks, more racket, and a faint
brimstone-like odor snch as is sometimes
noticed after a heavy thander shower. Si-
lence. ‘‘I can hear Ryndam talking to
Teutonic now ; we'll get TC soon. More
callsof TC, TC, TC, SK, SK, SK, then
a long quiet pause, as the man a$ the key
reaches for a printed form, writes slowly a
few notes on it, then says: ‘‘Teutonio re-
ports seventy miles southwest of this sta-
tion. She's going rather far south; may
have trouble in talking with her.” Bat
there proves to be none. So we sit bail
deafened by the clamor of the sparks, while
from the filmy wires overhead which seem
to lose themselves among the stars, the
mysterious ether waves are radiating with
light’s own swiftness, vibrating silently
across seventy miles of ocean to where a
man, seated quietly by a set of instruments
such as we see here, listens to what they
tell him and, as his ship reels off her twen-
ty knots an hour through the ocean desert,
writes down our thoughts word for word.
A few other messages having been deliv-
ered and received, Teutonic sends her
good-by signal and things are quiet once
more, The operator glances at the clock
and announces that it is abcut time for
Cape Cod to open up. He refers to the
daily news bulletin sent ont late in the
evening from Cape Cod. There is a simi-
lar one sent from one of the powerfal sta-
tions in Ireland. These are long-distance
stakions and their tidings are audible for
more than half the distance from land to
land, so that there is one night in mid-
ocean in what is called the ‘‘overlap,”
where ships receive almost simultaneously
the news of the world flashed from swo
continents three thousand miles apart.
But Cape Cod is at it now, and sitting
there quietly, receiver at ear, our friend of
the machine translates as they come to
him the olear, concise sentences that tell,
in brief, one day’s bistory of the world.
While we have been inening a fog has
been drifted in over the dunes, the
swash of the waves seems far off and mof-
fled, and from the wires above the water
drips in a drowsy intermittent tattoo upon
the rool. To this accompaniment we hear
that a European ministry is “ous,” that a
famous sporting event bas been lost and
won, that stocks closed dull, but firm,clos-
ing prices of the public favorites being
gives. So it es wo tor wn hay an hour,
n silence along wait in prospect,
for the next ship ex , the incoming
Deutschland, Nantocket at ten
o'clock, and will be ready to deliver ite
numerous messages from retorniug tourists
to expectant friends about 4 a. m.
But suddenly ourcompanion listens at-
tentively and reaches for bis form pad.
‘‘Dentschland ?*’ we ask. ‘Yes,’ he re-
plies, tearing the silence again with sharp,
staccato crashes as he gives the avswering
call. This time it is our turn to listen, for
we have no messages to send and many to
receive. Moss of them are mierely : *‘Plea-
sant trip; will dock at 10:30 a. m.,” ete.,
hut some are longer and a few in cipher.
Toward the end one comes in telling that a
paseenger has been taken suddenly ill, that
an operation performed at the earliest mo-
ment after landing is his only hope. A
certain hospital is notified to have every-
thing in readiness and an ambulance at the
pier, and his family are notified of his con-
dition. So the sufferer knows that although
forty miles at sea and almost twice that dis-
tance from the rays of the great electrio
beacon that marks the entrance of New
York harhor, his plight is now known on
shore and that all the resources of human
wisdom are being marshaled to save his
life. But now Deutschland signals good-
hy, our operator replies in kind, lays down
the receiver, and, taking up the sheaf of
messages, tarns to the telegraph key of the
land wire.
“Well, that’s all till the Savoie this
afternoon,” he says, as he blows out the
lamp; for the fog has lifted and the tide of
day is creeping in along the coast. So we
fay good-hy and step ont into the wan light
thinking. perhaps, of how commonplace
the wonderful may seem at close range, and
how mysterious even the commonplace may
. We think of the ages of ignor-
ance whose heritage is yet with vs, of how
young science is in comparison, and the
thonght comes, ‘* Where is all this going to
end ?”’ Bo thinking we glance fora
farewell look. The night lies behind us,
the east is becoming golden, while before
us rises the gaunt white mast with ite filmy
wire, sentinel like before the coming day.
—New York Evening Post.
The modesty of women naturally makes
them shrink from the indelicate questions,
the obnoxious examinations, and unpleas-
ant local treatments, which some physi-
cians consider essential in the treatment of
diseases of women. Yet, if help can be
had, it i= better to submit to this ordeal
than les the disease grow and spread. The
trouble ia that so often the woman under-
gees all the annoyance and shame for
nothing. Thousands of women who bave
heen cared by Dr. Pierce’s Favorite Pre-
soription write in appreciation of the oure
which dispenses with the examinations and
local treatments. There is no other medi-
cine so sure and safe for delicate women as
‘Favorite Prescription.”” It cures debili-
tating drains, irregularity and female
weakness. It always helps. It almost al-
ways cures.
The Good Qualities of the French,
The good feeling which is developing be-
tween Eogland avd France may induce
English-speaking folk the world over to
take a few valuable lessons of the French.
They have been traditionally regarded as
a fickle people, much given to the drinking
of absinthe and to social intrigoe, and sno-
cessful chiefly in the devisiug of gay and
expensive fashions, to the depletion of
of English aud American pocketbooks.
In point of fact, the French a« a nation
have certain notable virtues which we
may emulate. For example, the average
Frenchman, instead of being a wanderer,
iy emphatically a family man. His ruling
ambition is to own a home in which he may
enjoy himself and bequeath to his children.
It be has inherited one, it is his greatest
pride to preserve aud beautify it.
He chooses hia wile not only for her
dowry, but also for her domestic virtues,
The French wife is the hest business wom-
an in the world. Household affairs are
left entirely to her, and so usoally as the
investment of family saving. She has a
clear idea of what makes for comfort, but
she bas no such passion for ‘‘things’’ as
often weighs down the life of the Ameri-
can housewife. Draperies and carpets and
stuffed chairs may be lacking in madams’
house, but excellent cooking and good
temper are pretty sure to be found there.
One notable illustration of the domestic
virtue of the French is to be seen in their
regard for mothers-in-law. It is not unos-
ual to find families in friendly rivalry for
the privilege of entertaining the mother-in-
law live t and happy, with chil-
dren and grandchildren.
We have long imported gowns and bats
from France. It would he good row to
impors love for the homestead, the thrift
whieh by skillful cooking contrives tooth-
some and nourishing food from inexpensive
material, and those gentle domestic man-
vers which make the roof tree dear, the
dinner table pleasant, and family affection
true and deep. There cannot be an over-
supply of these admirable qualities.
—*‘Youth’s Companion.”
Tc get an idea of the prevalence of
‘Stomach tronble’’ it ie only necessary to
observe the namber and variety of the tab-
lets, powders, and other preparations offer-
ed as a care for disorders of the stomach.
To obtain an idea as to the fatality of
stomach diseases it is only necessary to re-
alize that with a ‘‘weak a man
has a greatly reduced obance of recovery
from any disease. Medicine is not life;
Blood is life. Medicines hold disease in
check while Nature strengthens the body
through blood, made from the food receiv-
ed ivto the stomach. If the stomach is
“‘weak’’ Nature works in vain. Dr.
Pierce's Golden Medical Discovery mast
not be classed with the pills, powders and
potions, which have at best a palliative
vaine. The “‘Discovery’”’ is a medicine
which absolutely cares diseases of the or-
gans of digestion and nutrition. Is puri-
fies the blood, aud by increasing the aotiv-
ity of the blood-making glands increases
the blood supply, It isa temperance med-
icine and contains no al , neither
opium, cocaine, nor other narcotics.
——1¢ ie stated that a company has been
formed to develop the rich asbestos depos-
ite of the Minoussivsky distriot in Siberia.
The deposits, it is said, are sy to operate,
aud are situated in an inhabited region,
and only abous eight miles from the Yen-
isseo River. This will be the first exploi-
tation of ashestos in Siberia.~Seientific
American.
— “Why are you weeping, Mrs. Flam-
mery?"’
“My poor hoy!" she sobhed.
“What has harpened? Don’t—don’t tell
me that he is dead!”
“No. Hehas just started away to col-
lege. Think what they'll be doing to him
by this time next week.