Mli Ufap K^W.
Or is It restless joy that thrills and leaps
From tho ilizzy spire and dome
That though the Old Year shall soon lie
asleep,
A glad New Year will come?
Look! as the Old Year sinks In dreamless
rest,
With weary sigli and moan.
The New Tear, all In regal splendor dresied.
Ascends the vacant throne.
The light of hope is gleaming in lite eyes
As gceptered there he stands.
A ■scroll with strange unspoken prophecies
He bears within his hands.
"Tell me, Year," I ask,"of paths un
seen
That wind far on ahead—
Those shadowy regions where no foot hath
been
Except by fancy led.
"What" waits beyond? Will bloom and
sunshine lie
Where'er those pathways tend,
Or are there mountains towering grim and
high
Before the journey's end?"
Ah, though again I question eagerly,
With mingled hope and fear,
He opens not the scroll of prophecy;
No answer do 1 hear.
The New Year only smiles: I may not know
What future hours may bring.
If o'er me hope's sweet presence shall bend
low,
Or sorrow's sable wing.
Old Year, how fair the country I have
passed.
What golden hours were they!
Will not their radiance be softly cast
About my onward way?
Good-bye, good-bye, as music faint and
clear
Reechoed o'er the sea.
Shall be the joyous memories, Old Year,
That shall return of thee!
—Alice Jean Cleator, ill Ohio Farmer.
n—.
fsO'i'' ' WAS late ill the
iripjl' r—iT- aft ernoon when
jJt-' 1 '| vfcs|i |?|| • Xl Towns en a
-ys""®! Vn saw the hist piece
I of furniture trans
lionie, and now, as the clock struck 11,
the looked around her bedroom in a
dazed and bewildered way. Was there
ever such a jumble of boxes, trunks
and furniture as met her gaze!
"Ilow can Jack leave me alone so
long when lie knows what a lot there is
to do," she said aloud, as she sank into
a chair before the open tire, the only
cheer-inspiring object in the room, and
looked about again, as the last stroke
of the clock died out.
t'L'gh, will I ever get this muddle into
anything like order," she muttered.
"Ilow I hate it all, and oh, how 1 hope
we will never move again, as long as I
live —I'm tired of packing and unpack
ing, of arranging and rearranging.
Wl.at a chaos in which to begin the .\< w
Year:" And visions of brilliantly
lighted parlors, glittering tables, pret
ty girls and handsome men passed be
fore her by way of contrast.
Then the baby stirred and she rose
to place it more comfortably in its crib.
Coming back to lier chair by the lire
she caught sight of a small blue box
in a corner of one of the open trunks.
"Ah, I'll burn you now," she said,
softly. "It is sentimental nonsense to
carry you around any longer. This is
just the fire fo* you. and I'm too worn
out to do another stroke of work."
Lifting tbe lid she took out a bundle
of letters addressed in a flowing busi
ness hand to
"MISS ROSE WINSTON,
"100 West Street,
"New York City."
Somehow her heart beat a little faster
as she recalled how happily it had
throbbed at sight of these same envel
opes three years ago. Three years'
Was it only three?
A log slipped and rolled to the edge
of the hearth, sending a shower of
6parks before it. It aroused the musing
woman, who leaned forward for the
tongs with which to push it back in
place. Then she slowly drew forth a
letter and read:
"New York City, May Ist, 18—."
"My Dearest—
"Darling, is how I think of you, and I
might as well own up. Just a few moments
ago I left you, yet it seems so long—l want
to be with you always.
"Do you know, dearest, that you have
bwonic more necessary to me than anyone
or anything in life? 1 never dreamed I
could love anyone as I love you, and yester
day, when you said that you were fickle,
you awnkened feelings that have made
me sad. To-night when I said that I
should try to destroy your fickleness I
meant it, for the thought arises—Should
she tie tickle with me, what then? I am
sure 1 don't know.
"You are my ideal in face, form, dispo
sition and character. The more I see you
the more I love you—and why? Because
we think alike on many subjects, because
you would make the loveliest wife man
ever had, because you would make for
me that for which I long—a home."
She raised her eyes to look around the
disorderly room, and lier heart smote
her. Then she went on with the let
ter:
"I have ret words at my command, to
tell you what I think. I only know that
I love you, and that if you were mine you
would 'rtiake the man.' You are superior
to me, and have strength, where I am
weak.
"If you had not said that you were not
sure of yourself, I should ask you to be
mine—but I must wait. May I not think of
you as mine? May I r.ot hope that some
ity you will be mine? Tell me truly, dear-
est. If 1 might only hope I should work
so hard to make myself worthy of you— 1
you are a perfect treasure. You may al
ways believe me to be, Your own,
"JACK."
With a deepening flush on her cheeks
and a tender light shining in her eyes
she opened a second letter with lingers
that trembled slightly—such a sea of
memories was surging over her.
It began without date, but that she
could easily supply:
"My Darling:
"To-day you have made me the happiest
of mortals, for you promised to become
my wife! Who would not be happy under
the circumstances—for the man who gets
you gets a prize, indeed. I shall not say
v. hut I shall try to do for you except that
if love and devotion can make you happy,
sorrow and sadness shall never know you.
"To-night you looked so pretty —your
eyes were brighter than ever I have seen
thein. You looked happy. Oh, that you
may always look as you did to-night!
"Sweetheart. I love you so much more
than I can till—more than I ever thought
myself < ap.'ible of loving anyone, and
when I think it over, I wonder how it all
came about. You did not try to make me
love you, neither did I try to make you
love me, until I found myself loving you—
four.d tiiat I must lie with you to be happy.
"Now 1 am going to answer the precious
letter my own sweetheart wrote me to-day.
Ilow lovely it is! li is Just like her from
beginning to end.
"If. as you say, my love makes you
happy, it must be because you love me.
If it were only love that you love, then you
would be happy in the love of any one of
your many admirers.
"Nothing that you say can hurt me,
dearest, for I know that you speak for the
best interests of us both.
"Yes, my darling, I want you to,be sure
of yourself, for I would not blight your
life ever so little.
"Should I lose you, life would be little
worth the living, yet I would rather lose
you than ever see you unhappy.
"You are unjust to yourself in many
ways and rate yourself too low. You say
that you don't understand yourself. Did
you ever know any one who could say:
'I know myself?' Dearest, others know
us best—other- see our faults and virtues
in a clearer light than we can see them.
I shall not pretend that I understand you,
fur it has long been conceded that the mind
feminine is incomprehensible toman, but,
oh, my sweetheart, all the faults you con
fess to are dearer to me than other wom
en's virtues. You are you, my darling, and
1 love you as. you are. That is clumsy,
but at best I car. ill express how dear you
are to me.
"Your heart pleads for me, but your
head does not. That shows good sound
sense, and 1 ran enly hope that the heart
will get away with the head.
"Ar.d now, my sweet, as a guard against
fickleness I want you to give up to a cer
tain extent your male admirers. I don't
mind their calls, 1 rather like them, for I
am proud to have my sweetheart a favor
ite, but you must let them know that you
belong to me ai d that I am a monopolist.
I can love you enough alone, they may
like you. I can love you as much as you
love to be loved—so remember, no trifling.
"I know, dearest, that you might have
chosen many men handsomer, nobler,
richer than 1, but you will never Undone
who will love you more than does
"Your own devoted
"JACK."
The third letter ran:
"X believe the happiest day of my life 112 ? L ' ar ' hastily muttering something
"I'LL BURN YOU NOW," SHE SAID, SOFTLY.
has just ended. To-day another begins,
though I will never be thoroughly happy
until 1 hear the words which make us man
and wife—then how happy I shall be and
oh. how proud! When we are married I
shall always try to be the best of hus
bands and my first aim shall lie to make
you happy; then I am happy.
"You are the one to make me—make
more of me than the ordinary man. There
is nothing that I would not try to do for
your dear sake. As a beginning 1 shall
try to have my business hours changed,
so that X may have my evenings for my
sweetheart. 1 can say -of her as someone
else has said of his love:
•She's more than diamond, ruby or pearl,
Siie's a dear little, sweet little, r.eat little
girl!'
"Vou are all that and more. You are
more precious to tne than are jewels—you
are invaluable—they are not.
"It is after two—and X still have writing
to do.
"Good-right, sweetest, dearest, best! My
beautiful Kose —X love you, X love you, I
love you!
"JACK."
Long the tired woman stared at the
loving words —could they have been
written to her? Why had she not read
them oftener? Why was it that all the
beautiful romance hud died out of her
life? Whose was the fault? Again her
eyes devoured the deal - words before
her. How her heart warmed with ten- ;
derncss toward the writer. How she
hungered for the kisses and caresses
lie used to lavish upon her. If only to
night he would take her in his arms all j
tired, nervous and unstrung as she was, [
and pet and comfort her. If she could j
hear him call her by the old, fond, fool- J
ish names how it would lighten her j
heavy heart and rest her weary body.
Then she thought of the time she :
had repulsed his loving advances —of '
her petulant retorts, her irritable com
plainings under misfortunes and re
verses. How far. far below his ideal
she had fallen. Would he ever love her
so well again? Cou'd she ever get back
to her throne?
Solemnly the bells began to toll for
tlie dying year. They sounded deep
in the heart of the waiting wife.
"Oh, God," she prayed, "for the New
Year's fight, grunt me patience, gen
CAMERON COUNTY PRESS, THURSDAY, DECEMBER 21, 1899
tleness, love. Help me reinstate Biy
self in my husband's heart for the dear
Christ's sake."
And tears trickled slowly through
the lingers which supported tlie tired
head.
A step, a hand on her chair, a cheery
voice saying: "A Huppy New 'i ear,
little wife! What, crying? Why, my
darling- my poor little, pretty li'tle
drowning white Hose— what a brute I ve
been to leave you so long," and she was
gathered to her husband's heart.
He held her close till the storm of
tears was over, soothing her as it
mother might a tired little child, with
tender words and caresses —the very
words she had longed and prayed to
hear.
"Oh, Jack," she whispered when she
had (rrown calmer, "do you think you
can ever love me again, asvou did w lien
vou wrote these?" And she pointed to
Vlio letters scattered at her feet.
"So you have been going over it, too:"
her husband replied, somewhat irrel
evantly, and looking down at the let
ters. Then taking her tear-stained face
between his hands, he said, tenderly:
"My foolish child, are you not my
precious wife? Have you not borne
hardships that a better husband might
have spared yon? Have" —
"But, oh Jack," she interrupted,
"how have 1 lmnie them? Think <>f
the reeriminatior.s, the reproaches, the
complaining's - even if you are good
enough to forgive 1 can never forgive
myself."
"There, there," said Jack, laying his
warm, loving lips to her quivering, self-
I accusing ones, "you shall not abuse my
wife. Now I shall put you to bed, but
first wish me a Ilappy New ear arid
we will begin all over again."
With In r arm about his neck and the
old love-liglit shining in her eyes she
murmured, obediently:
"I wish you a Happy New ear, my
husband!"- Mary Wright Davis, in
Every Month.
OLD-TIME NEW YEAR'S CALLS.
They llclil nil Important I'lnce In llie
Observance* of (lie I?«y—Origin
of the <ll* to in.
Among the festivities of old New York
the observance of -New Year's day held
an important place, Mrs. Julia
I Ward Howe, in the Atlantic. In every
house of any pretension the ladies of
< the family sat in their drawing-room,
arrayed in their best dresses, and the
gentlemen of their acquaintance made
short'visiis, during which wine and
rich cakes were offered. 11 was allow -
able in call as early as tan o'clock in
the morning, but the visitor sometimes
did little more than appear and disnp
about the "compliments of the season."
The gentlemen prided themselves upon
the number of visits paid, the ladies
upon the number received. Girls at
school vexed each other with emulative
boasting.
"We had MJ callers on New Year's
day."
"Oh! but we had Go."
This perfunctory performance grew
very tedious by the time that the call
ing hours were ended, but apart from
this the day was one on which families
were greeted by distant relatives rare
ly seen, while old friends met and re
vived their pleasant memories. In our
house the rooms were all thrown open,
and bright fires burned in the grates.
1 recall a New Year's day, early in the
thirties, on which a yellow chariot
stopped before our door. A stout, el
derly gentleman descended from it, and
came into pay his compliments to my
father.' This gentleman was John Ja
cob Astor, who was already known to
be possessed of great wealth.
The pleasant custom just described
i was said to have originated with the
Dutch settlers of the olden time. As
the city grew in size, it became diffi
cult and well-nigh impossible for gen
tlemen to make ihe necessary number
of visits. Finally, a number of young
men of (he city took it upon themselves
to call in squads at houses which they
had no right to molest, consuming the
refreshments provided for other guests,
and making themselves disagreeable
in various ways. This offense against
good manners led to the discontinuance,
by common consent, of the New Year's
receptions.
A Sure Knnnuli Kvaiii|ile.
Teacher (giving lesson in natural
history)—An extinct bird or animal is
one that no longer inhabits the earth.
Willy ( ireen, give us an example of an
extinct bird.
Willy Green (smacking his lipsf—
Why. that turkey dad killed for ous
New Year dinner!— Puck.
One v.r
New Year's Eve
" ~ V>YL
HI I Manila L. Crocket.
swish of a blue dress, a faint
i j breath of violets, as in pastil g. anil
J_L he felt rather than saw Mark; Sum
mcrlieid go by.
Standing a little apart from the knots
of merry young people thronging the pleas
ant rooms, he was conscious of a thread of
pain running through the last night of the
old year, touching only Miss Summerfield
and himself.
liy he, I mean Leigh Reyhurn, the owner
nf the old-fashioned, low-roomed grange be
neath whose root tiie young people of '-lad
brook had gathered to keep a merry watch
night. With music and laughter and gay
repartee they meant to dunce a welcome
to the joyous New Year without much
thought for the staid old twelve-month
which had served them so faithfully.
lint Leigh moved uneasily, sending im
ploring glances after the blue gown, all to
no purpose. Marie was absorbed with ths
fascinating company of Maurice Davenport,
and Was smiling her sweetest —and Marie
could smile divinely—and entertaining him
admirably.
Reyburn was thinking hard, and, it must
he confessed, uncharitably. Had he wor
shiped and petted and lived for Mi's Sutn
merfield these two blessed sunlit years, to
have hope and happiness go into the grave
of the frail old year leaving nothing but
memories?
What was 11 at Marie was singing to the
sweet toned guitar she held so daintily,
strapped in place with a blue riband?
"Iting out the old, ring In the new;
The year is dying, let it go;
King in the new; ring in the new."
Her voice seemed to falter a little on
the repeat as it fell to a soft cadence. Was
it possible she was thinking of the old so
tenderly the old love, for instance? Ah!
well, he did not know.
The yule log had burned out a week ago,
but lie h.isl not the heart to take up the
silvery ashes from the old, red brick hearth
as yet. Ever since that other night he had
kept his vow and closed his doors to all
merriment for two long years. Hut some
how the lads and lassies of Oladbrook had
lain their sympathies on his door-stone and
worked themselves into his good graces
once more, and before he realized what he
was doing he hud given up the silent rooms
again toaChristmas party. Hut no more New
Year frolics under his roof, he said; not until
—well, maybe— He stopped short in hi
musings; still the remnant of the mistletoe
hung in the bracket work of the old chan
delier and he remembered now. as he looked
at it. how pure and fair Alicia Merrill
looked when Herman Montrose kissed her
beneath its potent spell a week ago. She
put lorn in mind, O, so much, of her. Cov
ering his eyes for a moment with trembling
hand, he went to the window and looked
out. White and glistening as an angel's
wing lay the snow on the intervening fields.
Over there was her house, but she had been
away now for a long time studying music,
and he had heard, for she <1 id not write to
him, that her voice was simply divine, and
as a musician she was wonderful.
Nevertheless, it was a niglit. like th
nodding toward the flooding moonlight out
side, that they he and she had their
misunderstanding. A spa.-m of pain crossed
his fine face and he caught his breath a
little, lie could not Veil just how it catiu
about, never clearly understanding, but that
night so much like this, and New Year's
Eve, too, marked the beginning of their di
verging paths. And lie had heard of di
verging paths which came together again
after awhile!
To-morrow was the glad New Year again.
Would its happy greetings be only mock
ery to him?
Suddenly a thought, which had smoul
dered in his mind for days, flashed up like
a gleam of heavenly light, radiating his
whole being.
Hie was coming home to-night on the late
HEK VOICE SEEMED TO FALTER.
train; and he was so hungry to see her; only
God knew how famished of heart he was!
lie would take the down train, get off at
Iloekland when she changed cars for Glad
brook. No one could prevent him from
ridng home tn the same coach with her;
and even that >»'.uld be a blessed comfort.
Then, maybe, something would come of it.
Who knew?
In lii minutes he was inside his great
coat und locking the ball door, with a ner
vous, glad excitement stealing jver him,
like the coming of a new cay. A ten-min
utes' walk brought liiui to the station.
"Going away for the New Year?" queried
the agent, pleasantly, handing Reyburn the
m;uired pasteboard.
"O, a liTTle way," lie replied, absently,
pulling on his gloves.
Seureelj had he settled himself in the
outward-bound train than Joe Antrim
thumped him on the shoulder and sang
out: "Hullo! going away on a blow-out, 1
suppose? Well, so am I. Some are going
away, and sonie are coming home."
In the awkward silence which followed
Joe's voluble introduction, lie seemed to
read Reyburn's thoughts, for, without look
ing furthe. - for reply, he began again:
".Miss Summerfield is coming to-night, they
say; and they say, too, that she is bringing
her best fellow with her. Oladbrook looks
for a wedding at the Summerfield home to
morrow. Hut, of course, 1 don't know; it
is only gossip, maybe."
Having tiius delivered himself, Joe An
trim, without writing for reply, betook him
self to the smoker, leaving Reyburn in just
the state < 112 mind he intended, half-way be
tween insanity and desperate intent.
Hut by and by Reyburn's mind cleared to
Joe's last sentence. Only gossip. Of
course that was all; but Joe was mean to
hash it over, to him of all persons, and in
such an insinuating manner, too. Well, he
would goon to Rockland now if he met her
complete bridal party; he would see for hin:
sol/, and if it was all true, why, lie would
not go home that night, and perhaps Glad
brook would never see iiini again.
At Rockland he had only a few minutes
to wait between trains, and alreatf- the
home-bound one was waiting on a side track.
Purchasing his ticket, l.e ensconced himself
where he could plainly see the passengers
leave the cross-train.
"Now for the bridal party, at least the
bride and groom," he said, trying to he
jocular with himself, although his face was
very white and his mouth twitched nerv
ously.
At the cry "train, train," everybody be
gan to bustle about. Friends, baggage and
good-bys were mixed up indiscriminately,
but Leigh was very still. He could hear hi-*
anxious heart beat out its suspense in great
suffocating leaps, as the fateful train thun
dered in.
Sure enough, there was Miss Summerfiekl;
and the line-looking young man who helped
her alight also took charge of her bag
gage.
lleaven have mercy! Were gossip and
Joe Antrim right, after all? but pshaw!
any chivalrous fellow traveler would have
done as much.
Notwithstanding this plausible thought,
I.eigh slipped into the home-bound coach
like a thief, taking the corner seat in the
rear end of the car.
\Y hen Miss Sutnmerfleld came in, the
terrible groom-to-be, to whom the bridal
party had dwindled, even he, was not in
attendance. Marie carried her own "grip."
The man felt a tremor of hope quiver all
over him, something like an electric cur
rent. She took the third seat from the
door and leaned her head on her hand weari
ly. A strange air for a bride, thought the
man in the corner. lie could not see her
HE V HISI'ERED: "MARIE."
face, but some way he felt that this New
Year's ICve was not what she wished. O,
was she in trouble, too? ile had half a
mind togo to her; the seat directly behind
her was providential!} empty; lie could
whisper "Marie" over the back of her seat
when his courage warranted it.
At the next stop he took advantage of
the stir of the passengers and slipped into
the coveted groove. Blessed privilege! He
had not been near, so near her for years,
and his heart was on (ire. \\'heu he could
wait no longer, he whispered over the bar
rier: "Marie!"
She looked up, surprised and startled.
After the confusion had left her lovely
face, she gave him her hand gingerly and
asked in strained tones: "flow came you
here, Mr. Keyburu
"I could not help it,"he confessed, flush
ing, but looltiug straight at her. "I wanted
to be near you once more. on don't know
how miserable 1 am without you."
There was a world of emotion in the un
dertone, but he kept bravely on:
"I came down to Rockland for nothing
else than that 1 might get a glimpse of you.
1 felt it would comfort me to ride home in
the same coach—to-night of all nights."
He stopped and looked at her in such a pit
iful, hungry-hearted way. It «as all out
now, this confession of his. He meant to
make it at the risk of everything before his
heart failed him —and he had done so.
Of course she could do what she pleased
with it, and him, too; he had staked and
would win, or lose, all. Putting his elbow on
the barrier and leaning a little toward her,
he waited for her to speak. And her face
was a study. Presently she gasped out:
"Then you aren't to be married to-night?"
The interrogation -napped the last thread
holding Leigh Reyburn's great love in re
serve.
"Marie, darling! Could you- did you think
O, Heaven! as if I could love anyone but
you! <l. Marie!"
The whiteness of his face was terrible to
see; but it all dawned upon her at once.
"I —I —O, Leigh!"—she put out both her
hands, and two great tears stole down her
cheeks to tii.ish the sentence more eloquent
ly than words.
When the train stopped at Gladbrook, a
very happy couple alighted. And out across
the moonlit snow, from the belfry bars of
the gray stone church came the merry chime
of bells:
"Ring out the old, ring In the new;
The year Is dying; let it go."
"Ring in the new," said Leigh, drawing
her ar.n through his. "The years of mis
understanding are dead; let them go, dear
est."
"We will," she answered, softly and hap
pily.
And Joe Antrim laughed in his sleeve,
and said to the bright New Year morning:
"I am glad 1 set those two simpletons right
by a bit of stre'.egy. A little prevarication,
ahem! Hut all is fair in love and war "
EVES TIIE WORM WILL Ti lts,
/ "
fd _
"Wouldn't this jar you," said the Early
Bird, testily; "not a worm in sight."
"Perhaps," said the Night Owl, "this
being New Year's, the worm has turned a
new leaf." —Kansas City Star.
A Habit of 111 H.
Major— Going to swear off drinking this
year, old man?
Minor —1 suppose so. I generally do.—
Town Topics.
IS IN I'ANCAKE FORM.
New Process cf Baling Hay Which
Has Its Advantages.
Prmaeil In I,n»er* Into llntr* C'jH*-
drlcnl in Form null About of
11 .\nll KPK —llfing Ship!•«'<'
to South African.
The baled hay that is being- shipped
from New York for the use oft he lit i t isti
armyin South. Africa, and the American
army in the Philippines is being com
pressed by a new process. The hay is
putupiubales cylindrical in form,about
the size and shape of the old fashioned
nail keg, or IS inches high and of the
same diameter. When baled in this
shape the hay is as hard as a board.
The bales weigh about 145 pounds.
The hay is "handed out" in pancake
form. The hay pancakes, or layers,
which make up the bales, are about
three-fourths of an inch thick. The
most compact bale, of hay put up by the
okl style requires about 100 cubic feet
of space per ton. This new-fangled hay
takes up only 50 cubic feet of space j.« r
ton.
A singular combination of circum
stances is afforded at the baling plant
In Brooklyn. The contractor is using
(Canadian hay, baled in.the old square
fashion, in Canada. The old bales are
torn to pieces and fed into the top of
the six new compressors. About half
the product of the Brooklyn plant goes
to South Africa for use in the army
which is fighting the Boers, while the
other half goes to Manila for use by
l.awton and Mat-Arthur's cavalry.
The good thing about this new bale
is that a mule can carry two 112-pound
bales, and after he is fed off them for
two or three days, there is enough left
for a cavalryman to use as a miniature
rampart. The hay is packed so tight
that, a bullet- would not go far into it.
A mule can carry only one of the 115
pound bales. The greater number of
bales shipped to South Africa weigh 112
pounds, the English hundredweight.
WILL HELP ARMY SURGEONS.
Snrgreon fSenernl StornhrrK Propnm
Two Hill* for Presentation
to C»n»fresM,
Surgeon General Sternberg has pre
pared two bills intended to correct, an
injustice to volunteer and acting as
sistant surgeons in the army through
a construction of law made by the
comptroller. The first, is an. act for
the relief of acting assistant surgeons.
It. appears that- under the comp
troller's decision if .one of these offi
cers falls ill or is even shot or wound
ed in the line of duty his pay must
cease during the period of his disabil
ity. To meet this ruling the stirgcnn
general lias prepared a bill conferring
u]xm these officers the same rights
and privileges as commissioned offi
cers of the regular army and provid
ing for the payment of their salaries
during absence.
The other ruling of the comptroller
is that notwithstanding the volunteer
army act providing for the assign
menit. of an. assistant surgeon with the
rank of captain to each regiment ol
volunteers such officers cam only re
ceive the pay of a lieutenant, this- con
struction being based on a regular
army requirement that medical offi
cers shall serve live years in the grade
of lieutenant before becoming entitled
to a captain's ]«iy. To meet this di.'Ti
eulty Surgeon General Sternberg has
prepared a. bill specifically pro'idi'.'g
for the payment of the salary of a cup
tain, mounted, to such assistant sur
geons.
THEY STAND TEST.
Antomoblle Fire HnKinen Arc
ceimfnlly rued in nn Experi
ment in I'nriN.
The cable dispatches announcing that,
automobiles had proven a succes:- in
connection with the fire departn.t nt
in New York finds an echo in I'aris,
where an electric hose cart, designed
and constructed by the technical sec
tion of the Paris fire brigade under the
direction of Capitaine Ingenieur Cor
dier, has • tood the test of practical ex
perience and is now working in admira
ble fashion. At several fires it arrived
before engines und hose carts draw n ly
horses.
The fire department lias ordered sit
other electric fire extinguishing nui
chines of different models, including
a hook and ladder and steam fire en
gines, which will be used should occa
sion demand in connection with ihe
exposition in 1900.
The motive power of the hose cart
now in use is supplied by an invention
of MM. Bouquet, Garcon and Schiorc, of
Neuilly sur Seine.
Growth of the Telephone Syateiii.
It is stilted that the close of this year
will s-ce 3,500 independent telephone
exchanges in operation, having over
750,000 instruments. In ISSO there were
under rental use in the country 60,873
telephones. One year later the number
had increased to l.'ts,G92. In 1898 the
number of telephones in use was oxer
1,000,000. In 18S5 there was in use in
the various systems and modes of build
ing 137,223 miles of telephone wire. At
the beginning of this year the mileage
had increased to 1,158,000 miles. The
use of the telephone is more common
in the United States than in any other
country.
Nen lloof for CryNtal Palace.
An entire new glass covering has
been, ordered for tlie roof of the Cry s
tal palace in London. The total glass,
urea tc be covered is about 15 acres.
IftiK'c l>on<itioiiK.
The Methodists of England intend
to gather $5,000,000 before the end of
the century. Since January $3,750,-
000 has been donated.
17