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ESCAPADE]
A POST -
MARITAL ROMANCE
Cyrus Townsend Brady
I I I I ST R ATIONS BY B
RAY WALTERS
(Cop/right, 1908, by W. O. chapman.)
SYNOPSIS.
Tin! Escapade opens, lint In the ro
mance preceding the marriage of KUen
Sloeum. a Puritan miss, anil Lord Car
rington of England. but in their life after
nettling in Kngland. The scene Is placed.
Just following the revolution, in Carring
ton castle in Kngland. The Carringtons,
alter a house paity, engaged in a family
tilt, caused by jealousy. The attentions
of T.ord Carrington to Lady Cecily and
Lord Strathgate to Lady Carrington com
pelled the latter to vow that she would
leave the castle. Preparing to tlee, Lady
Carrington and her chum Deborah, an
American girl, met Lord Strathgate at
two a. m.. lie agreeing to see them safely
away. He attempted to take her to his
castle, but she left him stunned in the
road when the carriage met with an ac
cident. She and Debbie then struck out
for Portsmouth, where she Intended to
sail for America. Hearing news of
Ellen's flight, Lords Carrington and Seton
set out in pursuit. Seton rented a fast
vessel and started in pursuit. Strathgate,
bleeding from fall, dashed onto Ports
mouth, for which Carrington, Ellen and
Seton were also headed by different
routes. Strathgate arrived in Portsmouth
tn advance of the others, finding that
Ellen's ship had sailed before her.
Strathgate and Carrington each hired a
small yacht to pursue the wrong vessel,
upon which each supposed Ellen had
sailed. Seton overtook the fugitives near
Portsmouth, but his craft ran aground.
Just as capture was imminent. Ellen won
the chase by boarding American vessel
and foiling her pursuers. Carrington and
Strathgate. thrown together by former's
wrecking of latter's vessel, engaged in an
Impromptu duel, neither being hurt. A
war vessel, commanded by an admiral
friend of Seton, then started out ' ■ r'j '
suit of the women-fugitives, Seto. • n
fessing love for fiebble. Flagship Brn • •
nia overtook the fugitives during the
night. The two women escaped by again
taking to the sea in a small boat. Lord
Carrington is ordered to sea with his ship
but refuses togo until after meeting
.Strathgate in a duel. They tight in the
grounds of Lord Hly thedale's castle.
Encounter is watched by Pollen and Deb
bie, who have reached land and are in
hiding. Carrington won a bloody con
test at swords from Strathgate. Dabble
and Ellen looking on and praying for the
latter's husband.
CHAPTER XlX.—Continued.
"1 was his master because he was a
villain," answered my Lord Carring
ton. "He nearly had me undone at
first., but I knew he couldn't go the
pace, and a clean life and an honest
heart wore him down at last; and yet
I don't know which is much the worse,
the damned scoundrel or the damned
fool! I hope he'll live. Somehow,
when I saw him there helpless on the
grass, my sword through his breast,
a good deal of the enmity went out of
me. If I could get my wife now, I'd
be satisfied. A damned fool!" my lord
laughed nervously as he turned away.
Yes, if he could have gotten his
wife then, he would have b ?en satis
fied, and his wife would have been
satisfied, too. Hut Ellen lay in the
bushes in a dead faint. The re'ief of
the denouement had been too nuch
for her. And there was horror at .he
picture of Strathgate, blood spurting
■about the blade of the sword where it
entered and where it left his body,
reeding, his hands in the air, white
faced, desperate, crashing down at her
husband's feet.
Debbie, in a like state of collapse,
but not quite insensible, not knowing
what to do, not daring to do what she
knew, if sne had known.
CHAPTER XX.
My Lord !s Arrested.
Put Lord Carrington was not togo
very far in his present path, for two
carriages which bad galloped rapidly
across the park toward the one which
had brought him thither stopped sud
denly before Carrington and Parkman.
The door was thrown open and Sir
Chtules Seton and a naval officer in
full uniform alighted from the first.
From a second a sergeant and four
marines, completely armed, descended
to the sward.
The marines instantly fell in ranks
and stood at attention. The naval of
ficer looked back toward them. The
sergeant saluted and declared him
self ready for the business on which
he had come. Seton had taken a step
toward his friend, when the latter, his
pale face suddenly flushing, darted at
him.
"Seton," he said in a low, fierce
voice, "Where's my wife?"
In the intensity of his passion he
seized Seton by the shoulders and
shook him slightly.
Now, Sir Charles had come there
with a great pity for Carrington in his
heart and a willingness to forget and
forgive the other's insults and throats,
but the soldier was as quick tempered
as the sailor, and his own face an
swered the ruddy flag in Carrington's
cheek.
"Take your hand off me, Lord Car
rington," he cried, wrenching himself
free and springing backward, his own
Itand upon his sword.
"I've had one man's blood on my
hands this morning," returned my
lord, savagely, "and I don't waut to
have another's, but, by heaven, if you
do not instantly declare to me what
you did with my wife, I'll strike you
where you stand!"
"And I Nwrnr to you," cried Seton,
whipping nut his blade, "that If you
come near m« again I'll run you
through without benefit of clergy."
"Sir Charles Seton," began my lord,
evidently roaster Inn liis feelings with
great difficulty, "little do I care for
your threats, but I must have an an
swer to my question. Lady Carrlng
ton Is known to have boarded that
merchant ship which was overhauled,
I have no doubt, by the Hrltannla.
Knowing our navy as I do, 1 have no
hesitancy in believing that Lady Car
rington was taken from that ship;
that she was brought bark to Ports
mouth on the Hrltannla, and has been,
or Is now, under your care. Where is
she?"
"Lord Harrington," returned Sir
Charles, standing upon a punctilio, "I
recognize no right in you to question
me and I decline to give you any reply
in your present condition."
'"Will you reply to my sword's
point?" exclaimed my lord, passion
ately.
"With pleasure," said Sir Charles,
proudly, "but perhaps I may say this
much. I don't know where your wife
is, or Mistress Slocum, either. I wish
to Ood I did. She isn't under my pro
tection as you Insinuate."
"That's a lie!" burst out my lord,
fiercely.
"Good God!" cried Sir Charles, step
ping forward menacingly.
"Charles," said Carrington with a
sudden change of manner, "you were
once my best friend, for God's sake,
tell me where my wife is?"
"You've insulted me publicly," cried
Seton, a man of slower temper, but of
quite as hot a disposition, once
aroused, as his former friend. He
recked nothing of my lord's appeal.
He saw only the fearful insult that
had been hurled upon him. "Draw
your weapon!" he exclaimed, extend
ing his own blade so that the point
almost touched Carrington's breast.
My lord suddenty seized Seton's
sword by the blade with his naked
hand, and although the sharp edge bit
into his palm, with a quick jerk he
tore it from the surprised baronet,
who was naturally not expecting an
act of that kind.
"Tell me, tell me!" ho cried. "You
may kill me after that, or I you if
needs must be, but where is my
wife?"
"Bernard, you're beside yourself,"
said Parkman, picking up Sir Charles'
sword, "let me apologize to you. Sir
Charles, for my principal."
He bowed gravely and extended the
hilt toward Sir Charles. Hut Sir
Charles would not be pacified.
"Tell your principal to make ready
at once," he continued, "or I shall
feel justified in cutting him down."
"This can go no further, gentlemen,"
now interposed the naval officer who
had come with Seton.
"And what business is it of yours,
McLear?" cried my lord, laying his
hand on his sword hilt and quite des-
"On These," Answered McLear.
perato at the situation in which he
found himself. "I take it that you
have no interest in this quarrel unless
it is to perform a friend's office for
Sir Charles Seton with whom you
came."
"Have I not?" said McLear, sharply.
"Nay, never menace me with your
blade, Lord Carrington. I'll take
charge of it."
He stepped closer and extended his
hand for my lord's sword.
"And on what grounds, pray?" asked
Carrington in a high voice.
"On these," answered McLear,
equally determined. As he spoke he
hauled out from his pocket a folded
paper. " 'Tia an order of arrest from
Admiral Kephard for disobedience of
orders, failure to rejoin your ship,
insulting language to your command
ing officer. Admiral Kephard's sign
and seal, sir." He shook the paper
forth as ho spoke. "Now, your sword."
"As a gentleman and I make no
doubt a man of honor yourself. Lieu
tenant McLear," continued Carring
ton, glancing at the single epaulet on
the officer's shoulder, "you will, I am
persuaded, grant me a few moments
respite in which this gentleman and
i may continue our debate."
"What, and run the chance of hav
ing to carry back a dead body to the
admiral? No, sir," returned McLear
peremptorily. "I have orders to bring
you to the Britannia in your proper
person."
"And if I refuse?"
"Sergeant," McLear turned to the
marine, "if Lieutenant Lord Carring
ton doea not hand me his sword be
fore I count ten, you will advance your
men and take it from him by force."
"Parkman, will you see this thing
done?" cried my lord as McLear, who
was a man of great determination, be
gan to count.
"You're in the wrong, Bernard," an
CAMERON COUNTY PRESS, THURSDAY, DECEMBER 10, 1908.
awerpd Part*man. "you mn>t obey or
der*. I've no doubt you can get clear,
but now the admiral's word goes."
' And did you. Sir Charles, provoke
, ibis quarrel knowing that 1 was bound
I and fettered?"
"Damnation!" cried Seton, "You
insult and Insult and Insult me! (;i»e
him five minutes, Mr. Mel .ear?"
"Nine!" said McLear with especial
emphasis.
"Squad, attention!" cried the ser
geant.
Carrington knew that the game was
up. Without another word, he seized
bis sword by the blade and tendered
the hilt to McLear.
"That's well," said the lieutenant,
quickly, "now, if you will enter the
carriage with me. And you. Sir
Charles."
"1 wouldn't ride in the same car
riage with him, curse him!" returned
the baronet hotly. "Leave me here.
1 shall get away. I have some ac
quaintance with Dlythedale, and—"
"Very good," said the officer turning
away.
"Tell me one thing," said my Lord
Carrington as McLear approached the
carriage which my lord had already
entered, "is my wife—are there any
women aboard the Britannia?"
"She is not there, she hasn't been
there."
"Was there anyone taken from that
merchant ship?"
"No one was aboard of her. I heard
Collier say that those they sought
to seize from her had escaped."
Carrington's face lighted and then
fell, lighted at the thought that his
wife was not with Seton, fell that her
whereabouts was as much a mystery
to him as ever. lie had wronged Se
ton dreadfully. He was a proud man,
my lord, but something must be done.
"Sir Charles Seton!" he cried and
Seton turned and stepped toward him,
his face black with passion, but his
manner cold and composed. "I did
you an injustice. I'm ready to atone
for it in any way you may decide if
ever I get free from this cursed ar
rest, but I cannot go away easy in
my mind without any apology."
"No apologies," crier- Sir Charles,
"are adequate to such a situation."
"I suppose not," returned my lord.
"I've just done for Strathgate yonder,
perhaps fate'll get even by giving you
a chance at me. You know what
Strathgate said to me?" he continued
with one of those quick changes of
manner to which he was subject. "As
he lay on the grass with half a fathom
of my blade in his breast, he cried out:
'Carrington, you're a damned fool!'
It's true, Charles. Drive on, McLear."
he said, sinking back in the cushions
and turning his face away.
The two carriages rolled out of the
park rapidly leaving Seton staring in
amazement at the remarkable and
contradictory remarks of his former
friend.
When he recovered his equanimity
in some measure at least, the baronet
turned and walked toward the two
still busied about Strathgate. His
situation was so critical and there was
so much to do that they had paid no
attention whatsoever to the exciting
incident which had just taken place
within earshot.
(TO HE CONTINUED.)
BELONG TO TEMPERATE ZONE.
Four-Fifths of the Horses of the World
Are Found There.
Of the 100,000,000 horses known to
exist in the world, 50,000,000 or four
fifths of the entire number are found
in the temperate zone and nearly all
among the occidental people.
Aecordiing to the National Geogra
phical Magazine, the remaining 20,-
000,000 scattered through the tropics
are largely employed in the service
of temperate zone visitors or resi
dents and are but feeble representa
tives of that animal as he is known
to the people of Europe or America.
In the United States and Canada we
have 1 horse for every 372 persons; in
South America,l for every 7; in Mexi
co, 1 for every 12; in Japan, 1 for
every 30; 1 to 40 in Turkey, for 50 in
the Philippines, for about 150 in Af
rica and 200 in India and Southern
China.
The llama will carry from 50 to 200
pounds; a man from 75 to 150 pounds;
the donkey 100 to 200 pounds; an ox
150 to 200 pounds; a horse from 200
to 250 pounds; the elephant from
1,800 to 2,500 pounds; the camel from
350 to 500 pounds.
Sad-Colored Food.
Now that it has been discovered, or
rediscovered, by an eminent physician
that the colors of food have much to
do with the appetite, a woman in town
who is known for her novel enter' i
ments is going to give a luncnL.
where all the dishes "will be bright
and cheerful in tone." There will be
110 overdone roasts at this repast -A.
London gastronomic expert, preach
ing along the Pittsburg doctor's lines,
says: "Persons naturally avoid
svnnbre-colored food. As an instance,
a man will come home to dinner and
see a grayish-colored, overdone leg of
mutton before him. He won't touch it.
It is not the meat, but the color, which
has turned him against the food. The
same man will see a piece of red, un
derdone beef, and he fancies it at once.
He is attracted by the color."
Question Still Undecided.
Writers in magazines are still de
hating the question as to whether
women are more responsible than
men for the low tone of modern liter
al ure, not only as the writers of books,
but as the readers. One writer sug
gests that novelists should be licensed
and that they should give evidence of
wholesomeuess and purity of thought
before the coveted privilege to uub
lish could be obtained.
=Light c =
Freights
i ____ . By
I W. W. JACOBS I
[TO HAVE AND I
I TO HOLD I
(Copyrig lit, DoUd, Mrad C'oiupauy.)
The old man sat outside the Cauli
flower inn, looking crossly up the
road. He was fond of conversation,
but the pedestrian who had stopped to
drink a mug of ale beneath the shade
of the doors was not happy in his
choice of subjects.
Conversation languished; the travel
er rapped on the table and had his
mug refilled. He nodded courteously
to his companion and drank.
"You're another Job Brown," said
the old man. Irritably, "that's wot you
are; another Jab Brown. I've seen
your kind afore."
He shifted farther along the seat,
and, taking up his long clay pipe from
the table, struck a n>; *ch and smoked
the few whiffs which .emained.
"Wot I said just now about you be
ing like Job Brown was only in joke
like," he said, anxiously, as he tasted
the brew. "If Job 'ad been like you
he'd ha' been a better man."
The philanthropist bowed.
"He was one o' the 'ardest drinkers
In these parts," began the old man,
slowly, filling his pipe.
The traveler thanked him.
"Sometimes 'e used to get pitiful
over it, and sit shaking 'is 'ead at 'em
for drowning tlieirselves in beer, as he
called it, when they ought to be giv
ing the money to their wives and
families. He sat down and cried one
night over Bill Chambers' wife's toes
being out of 'er boots. Bill sat struck
all of a 'eap, and it might 'ave passed
off, only Henery White spoke up for
'lm, and said that he scarcely ever 'ad
a pint but wot somebody else paid
for it. There was unpleasantness all
round then, and in the row somebody
knocked one o' Henery's teeth out.
"And that wasn't the only unpleas
antness, and at last some of the chaps
put their 'eads together and agreed
among theirselves to try and help
Job Brown to give up the drink. They
kep' it secret from Job, but the next
time 'e came in and ordered a pint Joe
Gubbins —'aving won the toss —drank
It by mistake, and went straight off
'ome as 'ard as 'e could, smacking 'is
lips.
"He 'ad the best of It, the other
chaps 'aving to 'old Job down In 'ls
chair, and trying their 'ardest to ex
plain that Joe Gubbins was only doing
him a kindness.
"He kept a very tight 'old 'o the
next pint, and as 'e set down at the
table he looked round nasty like and
asked 'em whether there was any
more as would like to do 'im a kind
ness, and Henery White said there
was, and he went straight off 'ome ar
ter fust dropping a handful o' sawdust
into Job's mug.
"I'm an old man, an' I've seen a
good many rows in my time, but I've
never seen anything like the one that
'appened then. It was no good talk
ing to Job, not a bit, he being that
L 9 mi
There Was Unpleasantness All 'Round
Then.
unreasonable that even when 'is own
words was repeated to 'im he would
n't listen. He behaved like a madman,
an' the langwidge 'e used was that
fearful and that wicked that Smith
the landlord said 'e wouldn't 'ave It
In 'is itouse.
"Arter that you'd ha' thought that
lob Brown would 'ave left off 'ls talk
about being teetotaler, but he didn't.
"It was through that at last 'e came
to offer five pounds reward to any
body as could 'elp 'im to become a
teetotaler. He went off 'ome one
night as usual, and arter stopping a
few seconds In the parlor to pull his
«elf together, crept quietly upstairs
for fear of waking 'ls wife. He saw
'>y the crack under the door that she'd
left a candle burning, bo he pulled
ilsnelf together agin and then turned
ho 'audio and went In aud began to
ry an' take off 'ls coat.
"He 'appened to give a 'alf-look to
wards the bed as 'e did so, and then
'• started bark and ruhhed 'ls eyes
and told 'lrnself he'd bo better In a
minute. Then 'e looked agin, for 'ln
wife was nowhere to be seen, and In
Iho bed all fast and sound asleep and
snoring their 'ardest was little Dick
Weed the tailor and Mrs. Weed and
the baby.
" 'Get up,' ees Job, 'ardly able to
speak. 'l'm surprised at you. Get
up out o' my bed direckly.'
"'Your bed?' screams little Dick;
'you'ro the worse for llcker, Job
Drown. Can't you see you've come in
to the wrong house?'
" 'Eh?' Res Job, staring. 'Wrong
'ouse? Well, whero's mine, then?'
" 'Next door but one, same as it
always was,' ses Dick. 'Will you go?'
"Job began togo downstairs, say
ing 'goo'-night' as 'e went, and he'd
got pretty near to the bottom when
Jg
"Mind Your Own Business," Ses John
Brown.
he suddenly wondered wot 'e was go
ing downstairs for instead of up, and
larfing gently at 'is foolishness for
making sich a mistake 'e went up
stairs agin. His surprise when 'e see
Dick Weed and Mrs. Weed and the
baby all in 'is bed pretty near took 'is
breath away.
" 'Wot are you doing in my bed?'
he ses.
" 'lt's our bed,' ses Dick, trembling
all over with rage. 'l've told you
afore you've come into the wrong
'ouse.'
" 'Wrong 'ouse,' ses Job, staring
round the room. 'I b'leeve you're
right. Goo'-night, Dick; goo'-night,
Mrs. Weed; goo'-night, baby.'
"They 'ad the neighbors in then,
and the trouble they 'ad to get Job
downstairs wouldn't be believed. Mrs.
Pottle went for 'is wife at last, and
then Job went 'ome with 'er like a
lamb, asking 'er where she'd been all
the evening, and saying 'e'd been look
ing for 'er everywhere.
"There was such a to-do about it In
the village next morning that Job
Brown was fairly scared.
"He wasn't like hisself that night
up at the Cauliflower. 'E sat up in
the corner and wouldn't take notice
of anybody, and it was easy to see as
he was thoroughly ashamed of his
self.
" 'Cheer up, Job,' says Bill Cham
bers, at last; 'you ain't the fust man
as has made a fool of hisself."
" 'Mind your own business,' ses Job
Brown, 'and I'll mind mine.'
" 'Why don't you leave 'im alone,
Bill?' ses Henery White; 'you can
see the man is worried because the
baby can't talk.'
" 'Oh,' ses Bill, 'I thought '0 was
worried because 'is wife could.'
" 'l'm going to give it up, Smith,'
he ses, 'and I'll give five pounds to
anybody as'll prevent me tasting in
toxicating licker for a month."
"Bill Chambers wasn't satisfied then.
He pointed out that earning the five
pounds, and then getting it out o' Job
Brown afterwards, was two such en
tirely different things that there was
110 likeness between 'em at all. Then
Job Brown got so mad 'e didn't know
wot 'e was doing, and 'e 'anded over
five pounds to Smith the landlord and
112 wrote on the paper that he was to
give It to anybody who should earn
it, without consulting 'im at all. Even
Bill couldn't think of anything to say
, agin that, but he made a point of bit
ing all the sovereigns.
"There was quite a excitement for
a few days. Henery White 'e got a
'eadache with thinking, and Joe Gub
bins, 'e got a 'eadache for drinking
Job Brown's beer agin. There was
all sorts o' wild ways mentioned to
earn that five pounds, but they didn't
come to anything.
"Arter a week had gone by Job
Brown began to get restless like, and
once or twice 'e said in Smith's hear
ing 'ow useful five pounds would be.
"He used to ask Smith for it every
night, and Smith used to give 'im the
same answer, until at last Job Brown
said he'd go an' see a lawyer about
it. That frightened Smith a bit, and
I b'iieve he'd ha' 'anded it over, but
two days arterwards Job was going
upstairs so careful that he fell down
to the bottom and broke 'is leg.
"It was broken in two places, and
the doctor said It would be a long job,
owing to 'is drinking habits, and 'e
gave Mrs. Brown strict orders that
Job wasn't to 'ave a drop of anything,
even if 'e asked for it.
"There wns a lot o" talk about It up
at tlie Cauliflower 'ore. and Henery
White, arter a bad 'eadache, thought |
uf a plan by which 'e and Bill Cham
bers could ave that live pouuda I
atween 'em. The ide. »ds that Hill
i Chambers was togo wi!h Henery lo
i seo Job, and take 'lni a bottle of beer,
i and jist as Job was going to drink It
! Henery should knock It out of 'la
i 'amis, at the same time telling Bill
I Chambers 'e ought to be ashamed o'
hisself.
I"It was a good Idea, and, as Henery
While said, if Mrs. Brown was In the
i room so much the better, ns she'd bo
a witness. He made Bill swear to
keep It secret for fear of other chaps
doing It arterwards, and then they
i bought a bottle o' beer and set off up
the road to Job's. The annoying part
of It was, arter all their trouble and
; Henery White's 'eadache, Mrs. Brown
wouldn't let 'em In. They begged and
prayed of 'er to let 'em go up and
just 'ave a peep at 'im, but she would
n't. She said she'd go upstairs and
i peep for 'em, and she came down agin
i and said that 'e was a little bit flushed
but sleeping like a lamb.
"Job promised that 'e would give
liquor up; but the fust day 'e felt able
to crawl on 'is crutches ho made up 'is
mind togo up to the Cauliflower and
see whether gin and beer tasted as
good as It used to. The only thing
was 'is wife might stop 'im.
" 'You're done up with nursing me,
old gal,' he ses to 'is wife.
"'I am a bit tired,' ses she.
" 'You go, my dear,' ses Job. 'I
shall be quite 'appy sitting at the
gate in the sun with a glass o' milk
an' a pipe.'
"He persuaded 'er at last, and, In a
fit o' generosity, gave 'er three shil
lings togo shopping with, and as soon
as she was out o' sight he went off
with a crutch and a stick, smiling all
over 'is face. He met Dick Weed in
the road and they shook 'ands quite
friendly, and Job abked 'im to 'ave a
drink. Then Henery White and
some more chaps came along, and by
the time they got to the Cauliflower
they was as merry a party as you'd
wish to see.
"Every man 'ad a pint o' beer,
which Job paid for, not forgetting
Smith 'isself, and Job closed 'is eyes
with pleasure as 'e took his.
" 'And I'll trouble you for that five
pounds, Smith,' 'e ses, smiling. 'l've
been without anything stronger than
milk for seven weeks. I never thought
when I wrote that paper I was going
to earn my own money.'
" 'Has your wife gone shopping to
day?' ses Smith, looking at 'im very
solemn.
"Job Brown pnt 'is mug down on the
table and turned pale as ashes. Then
'e got up and limped over to the bar.
" 'Wot d'yer mean?' he ses, choking.
" 'She said she thought o' doing
so,' ses Smith, wiping a glass; 'she
came in yesterday and asked for that
five pounds she'd won. The doctor
came in with 'er and said she'd kept
you from licker for seven weeks, let
alone a month; so, according to the
paper, I 'ad to give It to 'er. I 'ope I
done right, Job?'
"Job didn't answer 'im a word,
good or bad. He just turned 'is back
on him, and, picking up 'is crutch
and 'is stick, hobbled off 'ome. Hen
ery White tried to make 'im stop and
'ave another pint, but he wouldn't.
He said he didn't want 'is wife to find
'im out when she returned."
NATURE AS A FAKER.
Sometimes Deceives Even the Trained
Eye of the Scientist.
On the so-called Table Mounds of
lowa are numerous impressions of
what look exactly like cloven feet. It
is not surprising that superstitious
people should attribute them to the
devil, taking his walks abroad, though
as a matter of fact, they are not foot
prints of any kind whatsoever, but
merely weather-worn impressions left
by a species of mollusk-like animal
known to science as pentamerus.
To the Smithsonian institution not
long ago somebody sent from the Bad
Lands of Nebraska what purported to
be a fossil ham. It did in very truth
look like a ham, and, to render the
verisimilitude complete, the bone was
actually sticking out at one end of it.
Nevertheless, an investigation showed
that the alleged bone was in reality
a "vaculite" —an extinct mollusk's
shell, rodlike in form —and the rest
of the "ham" was a mere accidental
agglomeration of stony stuff.
One day, quite recently, a young
man walked into the National museum
at Washington and presented to the
anthropologist in charge a petrified
foot. It was received with many
thanks, though recognized at a glanco
as a water-worn fragment of roclc
which had accidentally assumed a
shape resembling a foot.
Such chance imitations as these fro.
quently occur in nature. Another one,
; deposited in the same institution, was
supposed by the finder to be a petrified
oyster. It looks as if on the hall
shell; all its parts are wonderfully dis
tinct, and there is even a small pearl
In it seemingly. Yet it is not aa
oyster at all.
Many years ago the "eozoon" was
introduced as a fossil to a wondering
world by Sir William Dawson, an em
inent geologist. It was accepted by
science for quite a while as the earli
est and oldest of known animals—the
"dawn animal," as its name signifies.
Recent scientific investigation, how
ever, has proven that it is not, and
never was, an animal at all. It, ia
merely a curious crystalline combina
tion of two minerals which has the
look of something that once upon a
time was alive.
It has recently Leon proved I hat
many markings on sedimentary rocks,
long supposed to be fossil prints of al
gae and other plants, are in reality
tracks left by Insects, mollusks and
worms. Some of these alleged "plants"
had actually received names and been
classified Into genera and «poeies.—
livening Post. <