6
A WILD-WOOD IDYL.
Seeking wild-wood, open sky,
Blithe beneath the trees am I;
"Watching squirrel chattering high,
Watching wood-dove cooing nigh—
Bliss to tread the forest way
Along trails where rabbits stray.
Greeting quail in ferny spray,
Hearing veery's tender lay;
Joy to watch the brooding bird,
Chirping nestling faintly heard.
Downy feather lightly stirred—
Soothing note from mother bird.
Child of nature, joyous, free,
Seeking blossom with the bee.
Tracing brook through flowery lea.
Fringed by reed and willow tree;
Seeking violet hidden low
Where do moss and cresses grow
Beside the rivulet's rippling tlow
That through beeehen grove doth go;
Plucking triilium, wet with dew,
Frail hepatica, starry blue.
Finding elf's whipporwill shoe.
Hid among the meadow-rue.
Loving twilight, sunset flush-
Seeking haunt of hermit thrush
Trilling sweet at evening hush.
Sheltered by the swaying rush;
In the shadowy green lights dim.
Watching lire-Hies winging glim,
Moths fluttering "round the budding limb,
By weird light from the new-moon's rim.
Dreaming beneath dusky sky,
On soft boughs of fir to lie"
Soothed by pine-trees' crooning sigh
Lulled by nifiht winds passing by
Ah! 'tis Nature's child am I.
Alice B. Waite, In Springfield (Masß.)
Republican.
y-;
I A Daughter
I of the Sioux
I By GEN. CHARLES KING.
V
Copyright, 1902, by The Hobart Company.
CHAPTER XIV.
Within 48 hours of the coining of
Trooper Kennedy with his "rush"
disaptches to Fort Frayne, the actors
in our little drama had become wide
ly separated. Webb and his sturdy
squadron, including Uay and such of
his troop as still had mounts and no
serious wounds, were marching
straight on for the Dry Fork of the
Powder. They were 200 fighting men;
and, although the Sioux had now
three times that many, they had
learned too much of the shooting
powers of these seasoned troopers,
and deemed it wise to avoid close
contact. The Indian fights well, man
for man, when fairly cornered, but
at other times he is no true sports
man. He asks for odds of ten to
one, as when he wiped out Custer on
the "Greasy Crass," or I'ettenian at
Fort Phil Kearney -as when he tackled
the Gray Fox—General Crook —-on
the Rosebud, and Sibley's little party
among the pines of the I'ig Horn.
Ray's plucky followers had shot vic
iously and emptied far too many
saddles for Indian equanimity. It
might be well in any event to let
Webb's squadron through and wait
for further accession from the agen
cies at the southeast, or the big, tur
bulent bands of Uneapapas and Min
ueeonjus at Standing Rock, or the
Cheyennes along the Yellowstone.
So back went Lame Wolf and his
braves, bearing Stabber with them,
flitting northward again toward the
glo"ious country beyond the "Chak
adce," and on went Webb, with
Blake, Gregg, Ray and their juniors,
with Tracy to take care of such as
might be wounded on the way; and,
later still, the old post surgeon
reached the Elk with guards and hos
pital attendants, and on the morrow
began his homeward march with the
dead and wounded—a sad and sol
emn little procession. Only 20 miles
he had togo, but it took long hours,
so few were the ambulances, so
rough the crossings of the ravines;
and, not until near nightfall was the
last of the wounded—Lieut. Field—
borne in the arms of pitying sol
diers into the old post hospital, too
far gone with fever, exhaustion and
•some strong mental excitement to
Iviiow or care that his strange [ilea
had been, perforce, disregarded;
to know or care later that the gener
al himself, the eommafider they
loved and trusted, was binding over
him at dawn the following day. Or
dering forward all available troops
from the line of the railway, "the
chief" had stopped at Laramie only
long enough for brief conference
with the post commander; then, bid
ding him come on with all his cav
•alry, had pushed ahead for Frayne.
it couldn't be a long campaign, per
haps, with winter close at hand, but
it, would be a lively one. Of that the
chief felt well assured.
Now, there was something uncanny
about this outbreak on the part of
■the Sioux, and the general was puz
zled. Cp to September the Indians
had been busy with the annual hunt.
They were fat, well-fed, prosperous—
had got. from the government pretty
much everything that they could
ask with any show of reason and,
so they said, had been promised
more. The rows between the limit
ed few of their young men and some
bullieai among the "rustlers" had
tbeen n& more frequent nor serious
than on previous summers, when
matters had been settled without re
sort to arms; but this year the
very devil seemed to have got into the
situation. Something, or probably
somebody, said the general, had been
stirring the Indians up, exciting
exhorting possibly, and almost the
first thing the general did as he
climbed stiffly out of his stout Con
cord wagon, in tlio paling :;larl:^!:t
of (he early morning, was to turn to
Dade, now commanding the post, and
to say lie should like, as soon as
possible, to see Bill Hay. Meantime
lie wished togo in and look at the
wounded.
It, was not yet five o'clock, but Dr.
Waller was up and devoting himself
to the needs of his patients, and Dade
had coffee ready for the general and
his single aide-de-camp, but not a sip
would the general take until he had
seen the stricken troopers. He knew
Field by reputation, well and .favor
ably. lie had intimately known
Field's father in the old days, in the
old army, when they served together
on the then wild Pacific shores
"where rolls the Oregon." The great
civil war had divided them, for Field
had cast his soldier fortune with his
seceding state, but all that was a
thing of the past. Here was the son,
a loyal soldier of the llag the father
had again sworn allegiance to when
lie took his seat in the house of rep
resentatives. The general thought
highly of Field, and was sore trou
bled at his serious condition. He
knew what dispatches would be com
ing from the far south when the tele
graph line began the busy clicking of
the morning. He was troubled to find
thejad in high fever and to hear that
he had been out of his head. He was
more than troubled at the concern,
and something like confusion, in the
old doctor's face.
"You don't think him dangerously
wounded, do you?" he asked.
"Not dangerously, general," was
the reply. "It's—well, he seems to
have something on his mind." And
more than this the doctor would not
say. It.was not for him to tell the
chief what Webb had confided ere he
left the post—that most of the cur
rency for which Field was account
able was so much waste paper. Field
lay muttering and tossing in restless
misery, unconscious most of the
time, and sleeping only when under
the influence of a strong narcotic.
Dade, with sadness and constraint
apparent in his manner, hung back
and did not enter the bare hospital
room where, with only a steward in
attendance, the young soldier lay.
The doctor had gone with the general
to the bedside, but the captain re
mained out of earshot at the door.
First call for reveille was just
sounding on the infantry bugles as
the trio came forth. "1 have sent
for Hay already, general," Dade was
saying, as they stood on the wooden
veranda overlooking the valley of the
murmuring river; "but will you not
come now and have coffee? lie can
join us over at my quarters."
Already, however, the orderly was
hurrying back. They met him when
not half way over the line of officers'
quarters. The few men for duty in
the two companies of infantry, left to
guard the post, were gathering in lit
tle groups in front of their barracks,
awaiting the sounding of the assem
bly, They knew the chief at a glance,
and were curiously watching him as
lie went thoughtfully pacing across
the parade by the side of the tem
porary commander. They saw the
orderly coming almost at a run from
the direction of the guard house, saw
him halt and salute, evidently making
some report, but they could not guess
what made him so suddenly start and
run at speed toward the southward
bluff, the direction of the trader's cor
ral and stables, while Capt. Dade
whirled about and signaled Sergt.
Crabb, of the cavalry, left behind in
charge of the few custodians of the
troop barracks. Crabb, too, threw
dignity to the winds, and ran at the
beck of his superior officer.
"Have you two men who can ride
hard a dozen miles orssand carry
out their orders?" was the captain's
sharp demand.
"Certainly, sir," answered Crabb,
professionally resentful that such a
question should be asked of men of
the ——tli cavalry.
"Send two to report to me at once,
mounted. Never mind breakfast."
And by this time, apparently, the
chief, the post commander and pos
sibly even the aide-de-camp had for
gotteirvabout the waiting coffee. They
still stood there where they had
halted 111 the center of the parade.
The doctor, coming from the hospital,
was signaled to and speedily joined
them. The bugle sounded, the men
mechanically formed ranks and
answered to their names, all the while
watching from the corner of their
eyes the group of officers, now in
creased by two infantry subalterns,
I.icuts. Bruce and Duncan, who raised
their caps to the preoccupied general,
such salutation being then a fashion,
not a regulation of the service, and
stood silently awaiting instructions,
for something of consequence was
surely at hand. Then the orderly
again appeared, returning from his
mission, out of breath, and speaking
with difficulty.
"Craps— J mean the Frenchman,
sir, says it was after four, perhaps
half past when they started, Pete
drivin'. He didn't see who was in it.
"fwas the covered buekboard lie took,
sir—the best one."
And then, little by little, it trans
pired that Hay, the post trader whom
the general had need to see, had
taken his departure by way of the
Rawlin's road, and without so much
as a whisper of his purpose to any
one.
"I knew he had thought of going,
lie told Maj. Webb so," said Dade,
presently. "lint that was before the
outbreak assumed proportions, lie
had given up all idea of it yesterday,
and told me so."
"Has anything happened to—start
him since then?" demanded the beard
ed general, after a moment's talk.
Dade and the doctor looked into
each other's eyes, and the latter
turned away. It was not his affair.
"\V--ell, something has happened,
general," was Dade's slow, con
strained reply. "If you will step thi.-
wny- 1*1! I■, you lat?r, {,l-ntl-uicu—"
CAMERON COUNTY PRESS, THURSDAY, SEPTEMHKR 10. 1903.
this to his subalterns —"I'll explain
as far as I can."
And while Dr. Waller fell back and
walked beside the aide-de-camp, glad
ly leaving to the post commander the
burden of a trying explanation, the
general, slowly pacing by the cap
tain's side, gave ear to his story.
"Hay cleaned up quite a lot of
money," began the veteran, "and had
intended starting it to Cheyenne
when this Indian trouble broke out.
The courier reached us during the
night, as you know, and the major
ordered Ray to start at dawn and
Field togo with him."
"Why, I thought Field was post
adjutant!" interposed the general.
"He was, but—well—l beg you to
let Maj. Webb give you his own rea
sons. general," faltered Dade, sorely
embarrassed. "He decided that Field
should go "
"He asked togo, I suppose—it runs
in the blood," said the general, quick
ly, with a keen look from his blue
gray eyes.
"I think not, sir, but you will see
Webb within a few days and he will
tell you all about it. What I know is
this, that Field was ordered togo
and that he gave the major an order
on Hay for two packages containing
the money for which lie was account
able. Field and Wilkins had had a
k — 1
THISY SAW Tl-Ili ORDERLY COMING
ALMOST AT A RUN FROM THE DI
RECTION OF THE GUARD HOUSE.
falling out, and instead or putting the
cash in the quartermaster's safe.
Field kept it at Hay's. At guard
mounting Hay brought the package
to the major, who opened both in the
presence of the officers of the day.
Each package was supposed to con
tain $::00 or S4OO. Neither contained
3-20. Some paper slips inserted be
tween s"> bills made up the packages.
Field was then far to the north and
past conferring with. Hay was
amazed and distressed—said that
some one must have duplicate keys
of his safe as well as of his stables."
"Why the stables?" asked the chief,
pausing at the gate and studying the
troubled face of the honored soldier
he so well knew and so fully Vusted.
He was thinking, too, how this was
not the first occasion that the loss
of public money had been hidden for
the time in just that way—slips in
serted between good currency.
"Because it transpires that some of
his horses were out that very night"
without his consent or ken. No one
for a moment, to my knowledge, has
connected Field with the loss of the
money. Ilay thought, however, it
threw suspicion on him, and was
mightily upset."
"Then his sudden departure at this
time, without a word to anybody
looks—odd," said the general,
thoughtfully. "Hut lie had no need of
money. He's one of the wealthiest
men in Wyoming. And she—his wife
—needs nothing. He gives her all she
can possibly want." By this time
they were at the door. A lamp still
burned dimly in the hallway, and
Dade blew it out, as he ushered the
general into the cozily-lighted din
ing-room.
"You'll excuse Mrs. Dade and Es
ther, I hope, sir. They are not up yet
—quite overcome by anxiety and ex
citement—there's been a lot about
Frayne the last two days—take this
chair, general. Coffee will be served
at once. No, sir, as you say, the Hays
have no need of money—lie and his
wife, that is."
"But you suspect- whom?" asked
the general, the blue-gray eyes intent
on the troubled face before him, for
Dade's very hesitancy told of some
untold theory. The doctor and the
aide had taken seats at the other end
of the table, and dutifully engaged in
low-toned conversation.
"That is a hard question for me to
answer, general," was the answer.
"I have no right to suspect anybody.
We had no time to complete the in
vestigation. There are many hang
ers-on, you know, about Hay's store,
and, indeed, his house. Then his
household, too, has been increased as
perhaps you did not know. Mrs.
Hay's niece—a very brilliant young
woman—is visiting them, and she and
Field rode together frequently."
The general's face was a study.
The keen eyes were reading Dade as
a skilled physician would interpret
the symptoms of a complicated case.
"How old- and what is she like,
Dade?" he asked.
"The woman can answer tlint bet
ter than I. sir. They suy she must
be 24- Mrs. Hay says 19—she is very
dark and very—handsome at times.
Most of our young men seem to think
so, at least. She certainly rides and
dances admirably, and Mr. Field was
constantly her partner."
The general began to see light.
"Field was constantly with her, was
lie? Riding just by themselves or
with others when they went out?"
he asked.
"By themselves, sir. I doubt If
iuiv other of our equestriennes would
cure to ride at her pace. She rather
outstrips them all. The major told
me they seemed to go—well, every
time he saw them, at least—up to
Stabber's village, and that was some
tiling lie disapproved of, though I
dare say she was simply curious to
see an Indian village, as an eastern
girl niiiylit be."
"Possibly," said the general. "And
what did you tell me—she is Mrs.
Hay's niece? I don't remember bis
1 aving any niece when tliey were at
1 lira in ie in 'CO. though I knew some
thing of Mrs. llay, who was then but
a short time married. She spoke
Sioux and patois French better than
English in those days. What is the
young lady's name?"
"Miss l'lower, sir. Nanette Flow
er."
The chief dropped his head on his
hand and reflected. "It's a good 20
years, and I've been knocking about
all over the west since then, but I'd
like to see Mrs. llay and that young
woman, Dade, whether we overhaul
Kill or not. I must goto Beechvr at
once."
"You will wait for the cavalry from
Laramie, will you not, sir?" asked
the captain, anxiously.
"I can't. I'll get a bath and break
fast and 10 winks later; then see Mrs.
Hay and Hill, if he is back. They
ought to catch him before he reaches
Sage Creek. There are your couriers
now," he added, at the sound of
spurred heels on the front piazza.
The captain stepped forth into the
hallway. A trooper stood at the
front door, his hand lifted in salute.
Another, in saddle, and holding the
reins of his comrade's horse, was at
the gate. A rustle of feminine, drap
• ry swept downward from the upper
floor, and Dade glanced up, half
dreading to see Esther's face, But it
was his wife who peered over the
balustrade. "I shall be down in ten
minutes," she said, in low tone.
"Esther is sleeping at last. How did
—lie—seem this morning?"
"Sleeping, too, but only fitfully.
Dr. Waller is here," and then Dade
would have ended the talk. lie did
not wish to speak further of Field
< r his condition. But she called
again, low-toned, yet dominant, as is
many a wife in and out of the army.
"Surely you are not letting the gen
eral start with only two men!"
"No, lie goes by and by." And
again Dade would have escaped to
the piazza, but once again she held
him.
"Then where are you sending
these?"
"After Mr. Hay. He—made an ear
ly start —not knowing perhaps, the
general was coming."
"Start!" she cried, all excitement
now. "Start!— Start for where?" and
the dressing sacque in aspen-like agi
tations came in full view at the head
of the stairs.
".Rawlins, I suppose. 1 don't know
what it means."
"But I do!" exclaimed his better
half, in emotion uncontrollable. "I
do! It. means that she has made him
that she has gone, too —I mean Na
nette Flower!"
[To Be Continued.]
ALSO AMERICAN.
The I iityiiipittlietlc lUeN*lii»r Given
n l'roiui.siiiK Relative hy ltalpli
Wnlilo Uiuermin.
When young George Emerson
graduated from Harvard, he was the
first scholar in his class, and ac
cordingly s,mi the oration. Dr. Ed
ward Everett Hale tells in his
"Memories of a Hundred Years" with
what an apparently unsmypathetic
blessing his cousin, Ralph Waldo
Emerson, wished the young man suc
cess in life.
The chapel, writes Dr. Ilale, con
tained 200 or liOO of his friends and
the friends of his classmates. Aftei
ihe exercises were over, Dr. Hale
crossed the chapel to speak to Ralph
Waldo Kmerson, who stood alone, as
it happened, under the gallery, lie
introduced himself to Emerson, and
congratulated him on the success of
his kinsman.
Emerson said, ' Yes. T did not know
1 had so fine a young cousin.
"And now," lie added, "if some
thing will fall out amiss—if lie should
be unpopular with his class, or if.his
father should fail, or if some other
misfortune can befall him—all will
be well."
Dr. Hale was indignant with what
be called the cynicism of his speech.
He thought it the affectation of one
who felt that he must say something
out of the way of common congratu
lation.
"But I learned afterward," says
Dr. Hale, "wlvajL he had learned then,
that 'good is a good master, but bad
is a better.' And I do not doubt mw
that the remark which seemed cytii
cal was most affectionate."
What the Clock.
Mrs. Benson's clock, after having
kept excellent time for several years,
suddenly stopped. After trying for
some time to make it go, she removed
it from its shelf and sent it to a clock
repairer.
"Madam," he said, after inspecting,
"is this clock kept in a damp room?"
"No," she replied, "we keep it in
the driest room in the house,"
"Has it ever had a fall into a tub
of water, or anything of that sort?"
"Never."
"Well, I can't understand it. Its
works are as rusty as if it had been
left unused in a cellar for a year."
"I can't see how that can be," said
Mrs. Benson. "We are so careful
of that clock that we always keep
our vials of muriatic anl sulphuric
acid inside of it., where we know
they will never lie touched."
Then the jeweler vnderstoiod.—
Youth's Companion,
!
ABOUT PATENT LEATHER.
Mnnf of the I'mrpini-ii of It* Manufur
lure Are (luariletl Very Cure
full> iriiui til* I'ubllc.
Patent leather has become a featun
in the leather world, and its making has
: assumed considerable proportions here
abouts. Peabody is probably the largesl
patent leather manufacturing place it
the country, though Newark, N. J., anc
vicinity probably make more real anc
imitation patent leather.
All manufacturers have their own tan
ning processes, much like those of th<
calfskin tanner, though some patenl
leather is given a bark tanning. Horst
hide and colt skins are the chief leat hers
made up with a patent finish, and th<
process of producing the glossy surface
is most interesting.
The patent or enamel finish is reallj
painted and baked on, as the blcycl*
manufacturer paints and bakes ename!
onto a frame. Tanners are very particu
lar about keeping their processes a se
cret, and nobody but workmen are evei
allowed into the finishing rooms. Paint
ers are especially kept far from th<
work rooms. It is said that the work
men have to drink much beer on ac
count of the chemicals with which thej
work, and the heat of the baiting ovens
The hide or skin having beer
stretched and dried as much as pos
sible, is first given a coating of a mix
ture of linseed oil, litharge, white leac
or similar materials, boiled together un
til they make a pasty mixture. This
is daubed on the surface with a stee'
tool, and well rubbed in so that tli«
j pores of the leather will be filled up
Then the leather is put into the oven
its surface being exposed to steam pipes
at a temperature of about 160 degrees
It takes about half a day for this finis!
to set. ,
Next the surface jg rubbed clown with
pumice stone, and then it is covered wit!
linseed oil and ivory black, about si?
layers being applied, each layer being
dried and rubbed down. Finally a var
nish is applied, and then the surface is
rubbed down and finished off as nicely
as a painter finishes a fine carriage.
The final gloss is brought out by ex
posure to the sun. It Is a peculiar fad
that Old Sol brings out a better finis!;
than can any artificial drying or bak
ing process. Manufacturers of high
grade patent leather test every skir
before shipping it. The test is made bj
folding the hide or skin at any poinl
seized at random into a double V. This
V is hammered with a mallet. If th*
finish cracks, the skin is rejected, and
1 if it does not crack, the leather Is sent
to the shoe manufacturer. A patenl
finish is on a smooth surface and ar
; enamel on a boarded. Japan or lacquei
leather is the same as patent. A
"boarded" surface is a surface whose
grain is raised by roughing it up with
a piece of board. —Newport News.
MOTOR VERSUS CARRIAGE.
Scientific Argument In Favor of Ai>
tomol>ile Supported by Authen
tic Dlusruui.
Persons disposed to rail In question
the easy-riding qualities of automobiles
have their opinions disputed by the fol
lowing from Automobil-Welt, as trans
lated for Popular Mechanics:
"There is the motor in ttie Tront of
the machine, with its easy, elastic vibra
tions. The vehicle itself swings with it,
| but so softly that you don't notice it un
less it stands still. When going, tfiese
vibrations actually reduce the shocks
from a rough r*>ad, which, with a horse
drawn wagon, hit the body suddenly and
larshly, throwing it from one side to
another, hard and rude, even if the
wagon lias good springs. The motor
vehicle has not only good springs, but
also a lower center of gravity, besides
pneumatic tires, by all of which the
SPEAKS LOUDER THAN WORDS.
;R«lat!ve Ease of Travel in a Carriage and
Automobile.)
shocks are much softened. And what
still remains of irregular jolting is
oridged over and smoothed out by the
soft, undulating and uniform vibrations
of the motor. You can imagine that you
■ are sitting in a boat gliding over a rip
pling, slightly moved surface."
The relative ease of travel in a car
i riage and automobile, as set forth by the
writer, is shown in the accompanying
i diagrams, of which the upper indicates
the jolting motion of the carriage and
I the lower the relatively smooth motion
of the automobile.
I<*uilKue of the )lunFlen.
A scientific investigation of muscular
fatigue has been begun by M. A. M.
Bloch. From questions sent to persons
of many occupations he finds that it is
not the moat used muscles that are most
subject to fatigue, but those that are
kept under tension, although doing no
work. The back, loins and neck need
more exercise to strengthen them, the
irms and legs less. The baker becomes
first tired in the legs, the wood sawyer in
the calves of the legs or the loins, the
road digger in the legs, the blacksmith
'n the back and loins, the young soldier
In the back of the neck, the horseman in
the thigh, the artillerymen in the neck
and loins, the immature violinist in the
neck, the practiced violinist in the left
hand, the expert fencer in the right
: ihoulder, the oarsmau in the calves and
j nstepa.
BLOCK AND TACKLE.
Contrnlrnl Appnrttni for i.lftlnfll
Henry Louilii nltli fnaipum
ilvvly Small I'unrr,
Familiar ns many people are with m
block and tackle, it is not everyone who
understands the principle on which that
apparatus works, or why any advantage
can be derived from its use. Hence, &
short explanation is permissible, saya
the New York Tribune.
It may be explained, to begin with,
that the chief benefit comes from a mul
tiplication of pulleys. If only one pulley
be used, there may be some increase of
convenience, but nothing is gained in
power. Suppose, for instance, that from
a point above and outside an open wiu
dow be secured a single pulley, over
which a rope is run, so that both pnds
touch the ground. Let a heavy object
be attached to one, and let a man pull
down on the other. If the object weighs
more than the man, he cannot start it.
It it weighs less, he can. For every oria
foot of descent at his end, the attached
burden will ascend exactly the same dis
tance. The lifting force exerted on it. is
equal to the pulling force at the other
end; that is, theoretically. This may bs
FOU LIFTING HEAVY LOADS
a handier way to manage the load than if
the man was up in the window and tried
to raise the same load by a rope running
straight downward to the latter, but,
after all, there is no gain in power.
Now imagine a different arrangement
—that shown in the diagram. Suppose
there are two pulleys, one above and one
below. Let the weight (W) be attached,
not to the end of the rope, but to the
block containing the lower pulley. Let
one end of the rope be secured to the
lower end of the upper block, and put
the other end (P) in the man's hands.
With these two pulleys he can raise near
ly twice his own weight. To lift the load
one foot he must pull two feet of rope,
and he must work twice as long as be
fore. In all mechanical devices of this
sort, what is gained in power must be
compensated by extra time and distance.
For the sake of simplicity, the draw
ing shows only a single pair of pulleys,
one in each block. It often happens that
there are two or three pairs, two or three
pulleys in each block, but only one rope
being used. Such an arrangement gives
much more power. A single pair doubles
(or nearly doubles) the power, two pairs
will quadruple it, and three pairs will
multiply it sixfold, or nearly so. With
four pulleys, two in each block, the man
must pull down four feet of rope to raise
the weight one foot; and with six pul
leys, three in each block, he must pull
down six feet to lift it the same distance.
Allowance must be made for the fric
tion of the pulleys in their bearings in
the blocks. No matter how good the
construction there must he some loss of
power from that cause. Possibly this
item may be small, say, not over one
tenth or one-twentieth of the power ex
pended. Still, it must not be overlooked.
The foregoing principles apply equal
ly, whether the power applied at P be de
rived from a man, horse or a steam en
gine. Tho advantage comes from a mul
tiplication of pulleys, and what is gained
in one way is lost in another. For load
ing and unloading steamers the block
and tackle has the added convenicncs
that it may be suspended from the end of
a moveable boom, whit;*- may be swung
first in one direction an,. then in the
other. Thus lateral as well as vertical
transportation is made possible. This
other convenience, however, results from
the boom, or derrick, not from the block
and tackle.
CAN PLANTS REASON?
Prof. Slinler Think* Tliey Have
Intelligence nntl Given lleitMou*
for 111 M Opinion.
That plants have intelligence is main
tained in a thesis by Prof. Shaler, of
Harvard university. After discussing
the automata, he says: "We may accept
the statement that our higher inteiii
gence is but the illuminated summit, of
man's nature as true, and extend it by
the observs.tion that intelligence is nur
mally unconscious, and appears as con
scious only after infancy, in our waking
hours, and not always them." In sum
ming up the professor uses Sie follow
ing sentences: "Looking toward the or
ganic world in the manner above sug
gested, seeing that an unprejudiced view
of life affords no warrant for the mo
tion that automata anywhere exist, trac
ing as we may down to the lowest grado
of the animal series what is fair evi
dence to actions whieh we have to be
lieve to be guided by some form of in
telligence, seeing that there is reason to
conclude that plants are derived from
the same primitive stock as animals, wo
are in no condition to say that intelli
gence cannot exist ami.ng them. In fact,
all that we can discern supports tho view
that throughout the organic realm the \
intelligence that finds Its fullest expres
sion in man is everywhere at "work."
firent I.on* l>y Friction.
The loss by friction on the world's
railways is enormous in the aggregate.
Dr. Haarman, a German, estimates that
it reaches 217,000 tons of steel in a year.