TR E———
One of the Little Women, she came up to Heav-
en's gate:
seeing the throng was pressing, she
sighed that she fain would wait.
“For 1 was not great or noble,” she said, “I
was poor and plain ;”
And should I go boldly forward, I know it would
be in vain.”
She sat near the shining portal, and looked at the
surging crowd
Of them that were kings and princes, of them
that were rich and proud;
And sudden she trembled greatly, for one with a
brow like flame
Came to her, and hailed her gladly, and spoke to
her her name :
“Come, enter the jeweled gateway,” he said" for
the prize is thine ;
The work that in life you rendered was work that
was fair and fine ;
So, come, while the rest stand waiting, and enter
in here and now—
A crown of the life eternal is waiting to press thy
brow.”
Then trembled the Little Woman, and cried : “It
may not be I!
Here wait they that wrought with greatness, so
how may I pass them by?
I carved me no wondrous statues, I painted no
wondrous things,
I spoke no tremendous sayings that rang in the
ears of kings.
“I toiled in my little cottage, | spun and I baked |
and swept ;
1 sewed and 1 patched and mended—oh, lowly the
house I kept !
I sang to my little children, I led them in worthy
ways,
And so | might not grow famous, I knew nought
but care-bound days.
“So was it by night and morming, so was it by
week and year ;
I worked with my weary fingers through days
that were bright or drear *
And | have grown old and wrinkled, and I have
grown gray and bent ;
I ask not for chants of glory, now that I have
found content.”
“Arise!” cried the waiting angel,
“Come first of the ones that wait,
For you are the voices singing, for you do we ope
the gate;
So great has been thy labor, so great shall be thy
reward!"
Then he gave the Little Woman the glory of the
Lord.
And
'
§
~Chicago Evening Post.
DEFINITIONS.
By polite Tancsuveting they had man-
aged to have their deck-chairs placed to-
gether, and since they all bore some sort
of social introduction to each other they
combined to thwart the ennui of the long,
smooth afterncons.
The ocean lay glinting like a vast jewel
under the slant light of the afternoon sun.
Far off, it raised its edges somewhat to
meet the bending sky; and in this con-
cave hollow between the blue of the sky
and the blue of the sea asmall white des-
gotism beneath the sway of the White
tar captain sped on its way to other
shores. It was a day of unflecked beauty. i
The sea yearned to the sky, and the sky |
breathed upon the sea all obvious of the |
floating intruder. i
pt hell
:
g
i
|
z
:
sculptors
clinging about her even in rebirth to
upper
world of the long months of dark-
Ster
lines about the eyes were
dly, one might almost say impression-
istically, laid on. Her voice swung from
gh to shrill without will of her own,
t she won her way into the good graces
of mankind by a mocking wit and caustic '
hen the Hon. Parkes-Sterli had
failed to divert the conversation from a
too near to squabling, Madame
Nordinghate had saved the day by ex-
ining a game at country houses
Plain youth. Sa ong narrow sheet of
| paper was handed about; the first
wrote a noun and folded it over; sec-
ond, without looking, wrote a definition;
the third told what some people called it;
the fourth what others said of it; the
fifth what all agreed about it; and the
sixth read it aloud. "In short,” said Dr.
Holmes, “you si that we indite a
sort of compact ‘Ring and the Book.”
“We are just six,” suggested the Hon.
Mr. Sterling.
“And it's quite worth trying,” said the
young journalist, thinking something wit-
Re na
y. ey pla ut it t
and Dr. Holmes and Mrs. Point Dexter
would have preferred infinitely a squabble
a deux. The absurdities were merely dull
absurdities.
“Let's do a last one and stop,” yawned
he doctor. He wrote and hand on the
paper. It passed down six steamer-
chairs, and the Hon. Parkes-Sterling read
it aloud: “Love is a nervous disease.
Some call it a kind of yellow journalism.
Others, a rose out of Paradise. All agree
that whatever else itis, it is a huge bore.”
aac fot $0 bad, Said the doctor.
“It's the best yet. nobody peeped.”
“] Se said Mrs. Point-Dexter,
“who wrote ‘a rose out of Paradise’? It
does not sound like any of us.”
“l wonder,” said the doctor, “who
wrote ‘love’?” He looked pointedly at
Miss Sterling. “Still, as a statement of
fact, I approve in the main.” :
He stood up and stretched himself his
full five feet seven. “Love is unquestion-
ably a nervous disease. Its attacks are
most usual to men and women between
the ages of eighteen and twenty-five. It
is as prevalent a disease at that age as
measles between five and ten. If the
disease really strikes in, then the patient
is gene immune for the rest of his
eux
died I was I knew the world
and what I wan I chose my third
husband myself; he was an American.
reigned
on the deck, ically cleared of people.
In a little while the raucous voice resum-
rl.
"I? Oh, I don't know. One only guess-
es. But I don't think it's a nervous dis-
ease. I suppose it is a kind of mental
responsiveness. | think first of all that
when it comes it is there always, unalter-
able; the fixed point, in a world all ebb
and flow. It must feed on little obliga-
tions and delicacies and reiterated kind-
nesses, and it must be in its essence
peace.” The girl was still
absorbed in the waving rail breaking the
horizon line, and she went on in an even,
low voice: "Once | was riding—I was out
without the
and cold fo) Sddely The road yas
rough an horse hegan to stumble,
and for a while I could’'t make out where
I was; my hands were so numb I could
hardly hold the bridle, and suddenly 1
the horse
a Rickering light—it was the firelight in
my own sitting-room, where the shades
hadn't been drawn. Then I held out both
hands to it and thought, ‘Home! Home!’
Afterward I knew that when love came
it would find me just that way, and that
I should feel peace and safety and say,
‘Love! Love!
“Bosh!” It emerged so suddenly from
the fur collar that the girl jumped. She
was sorry she had unveiled her thought.
What could an old woman who had been
married three times know of her feel-
i .
second bugle had sounded, and
the deck about them was peopled with
empty chairs. The railing moved up and
down, cutting the path of the moon across
the sea. Once more in the stillness the
raucous voice resumed its initial theme.
“I've been married three times. I've
lived everywhere and done everything.
I've seen it all—all the futile round of ex-
istence. I've done more than most peo-
Pastor after watching I've nnderstood.
f 1 were to go blind to-morrow I'd have
seen enough to think over a whole life-
time. I've spent sixty-five years seeing—
and I've sized it all up. know what
it's all worth, I know! I know!"
She gave a hoarse chuckle by way of
afterthought, and Miss Sterling moved
restlessly in her chair.
“Yes,” went on the mummy, “I can tell
you what is worth while. Love is the
only thing—the only thing in a lifetime.
The rest, my dear, is just filling in—it's
the mere existence on either s of life.
Some people call it pain and others en-
and sleep and eke out their days so.
The occupants were life. Sometimes the attack is so slight as | we each have our instant. Our rocket
not obvious of the splendor spread about. | to make no radical change in the consti- | whizzes up into the sky, and we see the
They ejaculated several! times and then |
went on being bored. The sublime has afterward. The later sieges are more | then the stick falls with a thu
After that we go on--living it |
its momentary hold upon man, and then |
he relapses into his natural sphere.
The doctor and Mrs. Regis Point-Dex-
ter, who seemed to feel that titillating at- |
traction toward each other which demon- !
strated itself in minor squabblings and |
chaffings, had taken to quibbling over the
definitions of certain words, and the Hon. |
Parkes-Sterling was doing what he might |
to restore the peace.
This honorable gentleman, having been
removed from duty in the pension office |
the force of political feeling in his |
estern State, was now being sent by a |
compensating President to London as its |
consul-general. He had his daughter |
with him, and was giving her, at the |
same time, her first trip abroad and her |
first exPevience of a stereotyped society. |
The Hon. Parkes-Sterling was genial. |
This was his striking point. His pronun- |
ciation had always passed muster in his |
own home, where it was not unusual for |
dues and does to be pronounced doos, so |
that in his spread-eagle speech, at the .
close of the concert given for the benefit
of the widows and orphans of the seafar-
ing, he spoke with emphasis of every man |
who “does his duty”; but he made up for |
all such lapses by a broad, untrammelled |
human feeling. He knew every one on!
the steamer, and he liked them all; the .
children, the sailors, the stewards, the
steerage rs, the captain, and the
pivser bless He little ye {
0! would only serve him in - |
i the funnier we are the better
they like us. The young English journal- i
ist, who had lived so long in New York
that he had adopted its accent and added |
its slang to his varied English stock, had i
* met the Hon. Mr. Sterling elsewhere, and |
had renewed acquaintance, thinking his
party probably the most profitable to a!
young journalist making his name. His |
name was William Warde Wells, a good |
name for a writer and conducive to the |
choice of a public career. He was travel- |
ing in the interest of a well-known week- |
ly, and intended reporting the entire poli-
tics of Europe in one of his paper
each week. His superiority in New York |
was that he was an Englishman, in |
England, that he had lived so long in!
America that he was practically an!
A wil, Sire he couitries
ubly, ways to i t
of the one he inhabited for the nonce. '
He was tall and athletic and blonde
i consciousness in comparison with
the vast and fertile field of * what he did
. He was taking charge of
Point ote Mss.
the mummy, after
tution, and the patient is then vulnerable
serious, too. From thirty-five to forty-
two the disease is apt to be fatal-—some-
times it kills and again it undermines the
constitution for life.
women are safe. If they catch love then,
it is in the harmless form of the affec-
tions; a really useful trouble that acts
like a tonic and gives them an interest
in things. As for men, the danger goes
on with them indefinitely, according to
the general vigor of the physique. But
the dangerous element in love, the power
of imaginative idealization, dies out and
gives way to the general torpor of the
blood at about forty-five, and the disease
Sheseaftor partakes more of the nature
oO by
“Really, you know, I don’t find you're |
interesting or instructive,” broke in Mrs.
Point-Dexter, who had been writhing un-
der a fixed and critical gaze. “There are
things for which there can be only homee-
opathic cures; as I told you this morning,
for the man who fancies r has solv-
ed the universe, more universe and more
Spencer, and for a man who knows as
| much about love as you, more love.”
“True, most true,” broke in
Sterling, pacifizally. “Love is the “gréa
home-maker, the mainstay of the family,
as the family is the mainstay of the
state.”
“Love,” said the blonde journalist, and
he towered up six feet two and looked
down on the little doctor-—“love must be
every way perfectly tremendous; but do
let's have a walk before dinner.”
They strode off, and the Hon. Parkes-
Sterling only lingered long enough to di-
late upon the curative properties of cock-
tails at sea.
“I'm glad all that talk about love is
over,” said Mrs. Point-Dexter. “All 1
know about it is that man knows very
little. Are you going to dress for dinner,
dear?” It was a religious tenet with her
to live on shipboard just as she would
have done at the Waldorf. She rose and
shook out her skirts.
“I'm lazy,” yawned Miss Sterling. “I
think I'll keep Madame Nordi
a
can always see a huge, -up -
room, but one can't always dine with a
setting sun and a rising moon.”
“Oh, well, my dear, if you like to be
poetic! For myself, I like the feel of a
dinner and
“I wonder,” said the girl, plaintively to
silence—"1 won-
stared.
times,” she
her.
“Yes. As wastelling you, the first
After forty-two !d
| blaze and the light and the glory, and
and it's
all over.
over in memory—but the real end of life
is then. The rest is the learning to un-
erstand.”
The stillness fell upon them, and then
the girl asked:
“Was it your first husband?”
“My first—what?"
“When the rocket went up, I mean.”
“The rocket! Oh yes! Certainly! I'll
tell you. It will do you good to hear.
Youth lives upon lies. But the truth is
good. And it was at sea, too. It was a
passage just like this—smooty and bril-
iant.
on that paper.”
{ “Ah! then it was you,” the girl exclaim-
ed, reproachfuily. "And that doctor
thought it was I. 1 wouldn't for the
world have him think that I—"
"Yes, it was a passage just like this,” in-
terrupted the mummy. “I had just come
out of a convent school, where I had been
for eight years. My mother was a French-
woman, well born but without a dot, and
she had married an American for love.
It turned out well, but she was all the
matnleterined to make-a conventional,
well-regulated French marriage for me—
and in my case the dof was ample. [ was
myself pleased with any arrangement that
left the convent in the past, and especially
with being allowed to go about Paris get-
ting all my lingerie ready. Oh, my dear,
it was an unlimited supply for that day,
! and a great source of solace to me often
in the troubles that came after! Clothes—
my dear—clothes—learn to love them!
It is really difficult to harbor an u is-
ed emotional grief if one is well dressed.
And then we can always go out and bu
clothes—and after the thud it is just su
external interests as that that consoles us.
exhausted we started e, and M. de
Morcha was to follow 8 fonmpht later.
sea took a good eighteen to
es Toe had plenty of
time to get ennuye—you can fancy it—
can't Joe in seven we fall to playing
‘definitions’ f the afternoon.
The dinners were not so ner
i now, but life was more r-
esque. I think I noticed him the first
mon sailor, but beautiful. dear,
beautiful! Sometimes, as I sit here in the
same sunshine, with the same beat-
ing of the engines, like a
thum against my chair;
same deep wrinkled ocean rolling against
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durance, and others learn to eat and a
ut
It was in mind when I wrote ‘love’ |
Well, when we had bought until we were | been
day out. He was Sparen only a com- | do.
my
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ked my mother if she had known
them, but she never knew. She was bliss-
suitable marriage for a day not three
ths off
him to move my deck-
neither English nor
French, and it was some time before |
could make him understand. But there
was a | age hedid understand; when-
ever | looked at him he answered with
his smile. The days couldn't be long
enough for me then. I counted them as
they sped by. I used my rosary for it. !
could not say my prayers, because
couldn't think of them, but I told the
Mother about it, and told her the
beads that had once been her salvation had
become mere thoughts of the speeding
days, days of watching a young sailor at
sea. Doubtless, too, the Mother
understood. When there were but three
days left I began to il 7 realizing that it
was all over, all over. I couldn't rest un-
til I had asked him if he were going to
stay with the ship. It took a long time
to make him understand, and even in
those leisurely days one couldn't stand
talking half a day to a young sailor.
“Then I began to wonder what 1 look-
ed like, and to stand in front of the dingy
little mirror in my cabin. Ah, my dear!
I know quite well what I am like now,
and I don’t like to say anything about it
tesque, but, you may believe it or not, I
was beautiful then, just as for the given
moment every one is beautiful. It was
was my moment. For the time, I was
one with the seas and the stars and
the ,dolorous music of the waves.
A strange, half-sad languor invaded me,
and it was hard to move about. The Song
the waves crooned filled all the day wi
music, strange, mystic, broken, and yet
fnll of the meaning of life. Now, that
one thing of all remains, my dear. Some-
times still in great concert-halls, in a
pause and hush, that music surges over
me, and there in the heat and the glare |
smell the open sea. .
"Well, everything has its beginning,
its climax, and its end. That was the be-
ginning. One night there was a great
noise, a sudden rattling and shaking, and
then a strange, unwonted quiet. Soon the
stewards came down and told us to hu
on deck. I dressed as carefully as I coul
for I wasn't in the least frightened. I
flew the sun-god was waiting for me up
above.
‘black, and only here and there were lurid
lights. The officers were shouting orders.
e was there, and he turned as I came
! near the railing and looked at me a long,
| quiet look, and he smiled strangely; then
he said, slowly: ‘Wait; I take you!’ My
dear, I am sure | replied. ‘Of course,’
though I'm not sure I spoke aloud. My
mother was crazed with fright and was
clinging to me. There seemed an endless
black ds hetween the railing and
! the little life-boats filling up down below.
Some one seized my mother and began to
go down the ladder with her. Then more
orders were shouted. Some one came to-
ward me as if to take me down, but I
turned and held out my arms to the sun-
and at the same instant he lifted me.
was hardly more than a child to him,
he was so big and so strong. I nestled
close to his shoulder and looked for a
dropped my head on his shoulder and
kissed his neck and the lobe of his ear.
We were moving through black space,
and there seemed no reason why it should
not last'forever, that instant! Just then
he whispered, ‘Good-by,’ and he kissed
my cheek, and then I-was sitting in the
little life-boat with my back against my
mother's knee. I knew it then, my dear.
I knew it then, at that instant, what I
told you about the rccket. I knew I had
had my moment. But I was glad still. I
kept saying this is the bi y of my
life and there is no past, no future. Ah!
well you know the rest, don't you? We
were picked up by the Kronig within two
hours. It was a very orderly disaster;
not a life lost, and the captain the last
person off the ship and all that. The
crew went in to shore off Newfoundland.
So that was all. I knew what love was.
And I've lived out my life as the rest do,
eating and drinking and dressing. It
couldn't have been otherwise.
the rocket’'s glare, and our poor little
stumbling life, what is it, anyway? I've
married three times, I've seen every-
thing, and that was more than fifty years
ago and a passage just like this. Yes,
that's all.”
{ “And what became of him?” asked the
girl, timid and somewhat awe-struck.
“Became?” fepeatad the old lady, gruf-
fly. “Became? Nothing became,
ever becomes! That was all, I went on,
1 suppose he did. I've lived out my ap-
pointed life to the end, as you'll do, my
dear, as you'll do. We all live out our
lives to the end. That's all there is to
“Dear, yes. So we do,” interrupted the
Hon. Parkes-Sterling, catching the last
as he with two
artinis on a tray. “We all live out our
lives, and very good lives they are; and
now you must both try one of these, for
the steward is bringing up your din-
ners.”
Madame Nordinghame took hers, but
the girl sat still, her hands clasped list-
lessly in her lap and her eyes fixed on
the path of the moonlight broadeni
over the waters.—By Clarence Wellford,
in Harper's Weekly.
——*“If a man is friendless it is his own
fault.”
——Do you know we have the old style
sugar syrups, pure goods at 40 cents and
: 60 cents per gallon, Sechler & Co.
fully unconscious. She had arranged a the
for fear of making the whole thing gro-!
not just dimples and curls and rosiness, '
though I believe 1 had them all; but it
My mother hurried me. When
we came on deck the night was very
moment into his eyes, and he smiled. I!
to get as far distant from the rbing
sounds as possible. When the
crash in some martial tune these beasts
«caves that have been cut into the cliff at
the back of the dens. It is unaccountable
regard these concerts, our two Alaskan
friends are totally unnerved by them, and
doubtless long for the return of cold weath-
er and the disappearance of that band.
| World's Greatest Sulphur Mine.
| One of the
of Louisiana. In this mine there are no
shafts. No one goes into it with pick and
shovel, and they need no cutting ma-
chinery or safety lamps. Hot water and
compressed air do all the work. From
this mine more sulphur is taken than
from any other place in the world, and as
a result of its discovery the United States
stands today as the greatest sulphur-
| producing country.
Here is the unique method of mini
the sulphur. Boiling water is f
. down the space between the 10 and 6
inch pi which turns the sulphur into
a liquid, and this is sucked up to the top
tho the Smaller i oy compressed
r, whence it flows by gravity into great
vats. Some of these vats are 350 feet
long, 250 feet wide and 40 feet in height.
They are made of heavy planking, as
the sulpher flows into them it becomes a
solid mass, like a lot of coal or iron ore.
When it is desirable to move it the sul-
phur is broken into lumps with hand
picks and shoveled into cars like so much
coal.
Some of the siigle wells actually 2
duce 500 tons sulphur daily. is
region now supplies more sulphur for the
world’s use than the combined Italian
volcanoes, from which formerly came the
principal supply for all countries. And,
“while the Italian sulphur is about 50 per
cent. dirt and other foreign substance, the
Louisiana product is 99 per cent pure.
—Van Norden Magazine. .
Moveable Feasts of the Year.
Now that the Christmas festival has
passed devout churchmen and church-
women will soon be turn their’ atten-
tion to preparations for the Lenten sea-
son, beginning on Ash Wednesday, which
! this year falls on February 9th.
i The usual solemn services appropriate
i to the beginning of the penitential term
‘ will be held in the Roman Catholic and
' Protestant churches on Ash Wednesday.
, The several moveable feasts of the year,
; including those of the Lenten period will
fall as follows: Mid lent, March 2nd;
! Palm Sunday, March 20th; Maundy
i Thursday, March 24th; Good Friday,
| March 25th; Hoy Saturday, March 26th;
| Easter Sunday, March 27th; LowSunday;
| April 3rd; Rogation Sunday, May Ist;
i Ascension Day, May 5th; it Sunday,
| May 15th; Trinity Sunday, May 22nd.
| e Feast of the Conversion of St.
| Paul will occur, Tuesday, January 25th.
MLL beast of She Pusincation oF the
irgin Mary, otherwise as
| Candlemas, will be celebrated in the
| Roman Catholic and Episcopal churches
: Wednesday, February 2nd.
Unhealthy Exercise.
Almost everybody rides the wheel to-
day, and there is a certain ambition in
most bicyclists to show a good record of
“runs.” Both men and women aspire to
records of “centuries.” It is always
doubtful whether so protracted a run asa
century run is not too great a strain upon
the body. But even ordinary runs may
be an injury rather than a benefit if the
physical condition is weak. Exercise bene-
fits only when the body is healthy. When
there is weakness, especially stomach weak-
nesst, hg erercige only neresses the 2
ment. Many bicycl ve proven
and recall violent - nausea, loss of appe-
tite, headache and other phvsicial results
of an extra long run. Dr. 's Golden
Discovery the weak
i
Love is | Medical
strengthens
stomach. It does more, it increases the
blood supply and so increases the vital
force of the body. It makes the
muscular, builds it up with sound fles!
and not with flabby fat. It is not a whis-
ky medicine, and contains no narcotics.
It is the ideal medicine for the a
who needs physical strength and develop-
ment.
says
cause her untold suffering.
something unkind to her husband, boxes
her child's ears, and then shuts herself in
her room to weep and wonder why she
is so “ugly.” To an experienced -
cian the reason is not far to seek.
is not to blame for lack of self-control.
Ine cure of nervous disorders which re-
sult fiom diseases of the or-
SANs, iS one of he special features of Dr.
's Favorite Prescription. It heals
inflammation and ulcera cures fe-
male the backache, and
nervousness caused by these diseases are
cured at the same time. '
—"“Society” is now a combination of
men and women who ess them-
- | selves atthe expense of their tradesmen
that they may overeat themselves at the
expense of their friends.
1 wish there were ten days in the
hy Te ay.
“Jack could call oftener then.”
mines in the |:
world is located underneath the prairie |:
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ivi weighing, first and second
siting. rushing ng and classify-
mg,
of curds as they are placed in the moulds.
This makes bluish streaks
noticed in the cheese and A to give
Ri ort jie arvana.
caves orm an important
ja fhe fabrication of Shis cheese A itis
argely maturing and mellowing in
them that Roquefort cheese is celebrated
throughout the world for its delicate fla-
ver and peculiar aroma. These caves
are excavations, some natural and some |
artificial, hollowed out in the side of the
steep and rocky mountain which domi-
nates the little village clinging to its side.
They are cold and damp, but ventilated
by the air which penetrates th the
fissures in the stratified rocks.
are several stories in each cave contain-
ing shelves on which the cheese is
placed.
After the cheese mellows or ripens for
about forty-five days in the cave, it is
ready for shipment or to be placed in the
refrigerating rooms, which are cooled by
an ammoniac process operated by electric
machinery.
Noah's Ark Restored.
. Oneof the ist wurions aul interest-
ing kings in years been com-
ne iifikines in yea building of a ves-
sel modelled upon the lines of Noah's ark
as described in Genesis. The vessel as
built is thirty feet long, five feet wide,
and three feet measurements
being one-tenth of those given in the
Bible. When launched the ship, to the
surprise of the builder, proved very sea-
In this connection attention has been
called to a work by Herr von lhring, The
Evolution of the Aryan, in which he main-
tains that the Babylonians at a very early
date had a sea-borne commerce; that
Noah's ship was a seagoing vessel, and
that, as recorded in the Babylonian an-
nals, it was driven by a storm wave up
the valley of the Tigris and Euphrates
and lodged among the mountains. It ap-
pears also that the Babylonian sailors
were accustomed always to keep doves on
board their vessels, which they were in
the habit of releasidg when they wished
Jolaatn the distance and direction of
and.
Forestry on Private Estates.
In point of variety and scope the forest
work done on the Biltmore estate in
North Carolina is remarkable. The for-
ests, which cover 130,000 acres, are made
profitable by the production of various
forms of material.
Four million feet of lumber, five thous-
and cords of tannic-acid weod and
protection is secured at least th
all the accessible parts of the tract.
In connection With aif lumbering opera.
tions permanent logging roads are
minimize the present cost of trans-
portation and will greatly reduce the cost
Spe do duty, as fire-guards. Thus fire
roughout
[
of future crops. Thus the ex-
tension of roads is to
the investment value of the ~—Har-
per’s Weekly.
Si .
Surgery is the art of finding some part
of the human body which is not
or which at least can readily be
with, and cutting it out.
Surgery is yet in its Thus far
is has practically been to the
negative or destructive side. Inasmuch,
however, as the dispensable of
a Sl
statisticians having already