CHILD NATURE, A man may be noble and great, And a woman tender and pure, . But their knowledge, if deeper, is less di- vine Than childhood’'s innocent lore, Ah, why should we wonder at this ? For God on the little ones smiled, And we often lose with the lapse of years The flawless faith of a child. A man may be gallant and gay, And a woman joyous and bright, i But they seldom keep through the waning years The passions of pure delight, Ah, why should we wonder at this? or God on the little ones smiled, And the harmless lightning of laughter plays ound the guileless lips of a child. Then happy are those who cherish Youth's hopes and its fleeting tears, And some clear signs of their childhood keep Through a cirele of changeful Jone Ah, why should we wonder at this? For God on the little one smiled, And the heads of the Wise Men bent above | The cradle thas held a child, AR TI. SRA THE FACTORY GIRL, ! It was a little studio quite at the top | of the house. Upon the easel that oc- | cupied the post of honor in the middle of the room was a piece of canvas glow- | ing with the soft tints of spring land- | scape, and Frank Seymour stood before it, palette in hand, with his large brown eyes dreamy with a sort of inspiration. In a comfortable easy chair by the door sat a plump, rosy little female, in a lace cap with plenty of narrow white | satin ribbon fluttering from it, and a silver gray poplin dress—Mrs. Seymour, in fact, our artist's mother, who had just come up from the very’basement, “to see how Frank was getting along.” “Here, mother,” said the young man, with an enthusiastic sparkle in his eye, “just sep the way “that sunset light touches the topmost Lrarches of the eld | apple trees. 1 like the brown subdued | gold at that tint; it somehow reminds me of Grace Teller’s hair.” Mrs. Seymour moved a little uneasily in her chair, “It’s very pretty, but it strikes me, Frank, you are discovering a good | many simihtudes between Miss Teller and your pictures.” Frank laughed good humoredly. “Well, mother, she is pretty.”} “Yes, I don’t deny that she’s pretty enough.” “Now, mother, what's the meaning of that ambiguous tone?’ demanded the young artist pleasantly. What have | you discovered about Miss Teller that isn’t charming and womanly and love- able?” “Frank, do vou know who she is?’ { “Yes, i know that she is a remark- | ably pretty girl, with a voice that sounds exactly like the low soft rivulet where I used to play when I-was a boy." “Nonsense,” said Mrs. Seymour, sharply. “Well, then, if you are not satisfied with my description of her as she is, would you like to know what she will be?’ Mrs. Seymour looked puzzled. “Mother, I think one day she will be my wife!” “Frank! Frank! are you crazy?” “Not that I know of,’ said Mr. Sey- mour composedly squeezing a little deep blue on his* palatte from a dainty tin tube and mixing it thoughtfully. “We know little about her," thought Mrs, Seymour. ‘To be sure she is visiting Mary Elton, and Mary belongs to a very good family, if she | does Jive in a half house and takes in | But then | BO fine embroidery for a living. she has no style as compared with Cyn- | thia Parker, and Cynthia always did | fancy our Frank. Then, moreover, she has five or six thousand dollars of her | own. But, dear me! a young man in | love 1s the most headstrong creature alive!” | Mrs. Seymour mused a while longer, | and then put on her mouse colored silk | bonnet and gray shawl and set out on | a tour of investigation. | “I find out about Miss Teller, or I | will know the reason why,” thought | the indefatigable widow. } Miss Grace Teller “was at home,” | helping Mary Elton on an elaborate | piece of embroidery. The room where | the two girls sat was very plain, car- | peted with the clieapest ingrain, and | curtained with very ordinary pink and | white chintz, yet it looked snug and | cheery, for the fat blackbird was chirp- ing in the window, and a stand of mig- nonette and velvet-blossomed pansies gave a delicate refinement to the detail | of every day life, Mary Elton was pale, thin and not at | all pretty, though there was a tremu- lous sweetness about her mouth that | seemed to whisper that she might have been very different under different cir- | cumstances, Grace Teller was a lively blonde with large blue eyes, rose leaf skin, and hair whose luminous gold fell over her forehead like an aureola, As Mrs, Seymour eutered a deeper shade of pink stole over Grace's beauti- ful cheeks, but otherwise she was calm and self possessed and readily parried the old lad’s interrogateries, “Very warm this morning,’ satd the old lady fauning herself. ‘‘Do they have warm weather where you come from, Miss Teller?” “I believe it's very sultry in Factory- ville,” said Grace, composedly taking another needleful of white silk. “Factoryville, is that your native place? Perhaps, then, you know Mr. Parker—Cynthia Parker’s father—who is superintendent of the great calico mills there?" “Very well—I have seen him.” “Are you acquainted with Cynthia?” “No, I believe Miss Parker spends most of her time in this city.” “That's very true,” said Mre, Sey- mour, eagerly, “Cynthia often says there's no society worth having in Factoryville, only the girls that work in the factory, and Cyn- thia 1s very genteel, But, excuse my curiosity, Miss Teller, how did you be- enme acquainted with Mr. Parker and not his daughter?’ Grace colored, “Business brought me in contact fre- quently with the gentleman of whom you speak, but IT never happened to meet Miss Parker.” Mrs, Seymour gave a little start in her chair, she was beginning through the mystery. with the factory?” “I have,” said Grace, nity. with calm dig- growing red and white.” “Is there any disgrace in the title: cheeks were dyeing crimson, “Disgrace? there’s no harm in earning one’s living triumph she was aboub to wave over him. “1 do aot hesitate to confess went on Grace looking Mrs. Seymour full 1n owe my daily bread.” “Very laudable, I'm sure,” said the the blue clear gaze, only there are steps you so intimate with Miss Elton, whose family is——"" Mary came over to Grace's side and stooped to kiss her cheek. ‘My dearest friend, my most preclous companion,’ she murmured, “I should be quite lost without her, Mrs. Sey- mour,"’ The old lady took her leave, stifily, and did not ask Grace to return her tion to Mary, couched in the politest and most distinct terms. “Frank! she ejaculated, never once stopping to remove shawl or bonnet, “who do you suppose your paragon of a Miss Teller is?’ “The loveliest her sex.” returned Frank, briefly and comprehensively. “A factory girl!” screamed the old udy at the top of her lungs, “a factory ipl ate ol “Well, what of that?” ‘What of that? Frank Seymour you never mean to say that you would have anything to say to a common factory girl?” “1 should pronounce her a very un- ’ young man with aggrivating calmness, “Frank, don’t jest me,’ pleaded the poor little mother, with tears her “Tell me at once that you will give up this idle fancy for a girl who is ill LO YOu. “No, she is in no respects my equal,” returned Frank, with reddesing cheek and sparkling eye, “but is in every re- spect my superior. Teller of the noblest wot aver breath- ed this terrestri well as the most beautitul. Mother, I love her, and she has promise ny wife." Mrs, Seymour sal limp, life less and despairing. ‘‘prank, Frank, 1 never thought to see my son marry a factory girl." And then a torrent of tears came LO her relief, while Frank went quietly on touching up the scariet foliage of a splendid old maple in the picture. “85 you are determined to marry me, Frank, in spite of everything. Grace Teller | crying; the dew was yet on her eyelashes, and th her cheeks, is one 1 nad been unnatural crimson on ‘as Frank Seymour came in, and Mary El- ton considerately slipped out to search for a missing patiern. “1 should rather think Frank, looking admiring golden head that was sLoopi the pansies “Social position be ignored! What do 1 care for social position, so long as my little Grace has consented to make sunshine of my home!” “Yes, but Frank “Well, but Grace!” “Do you really love me?" For answer he t ] said down on the ng : 5s i, among took both the falr, delicate hands in hs and looked stead- “Frank, said Grace Teller, demure- I, “I’m afraid you'll make a drea iful- ly strong-willed, obstinate sort of a busband.”’ +1 shouldn't wonder, Grace.” the country.” “Grace,” said Frank gravely, and al- most sternly, ‘what does this mean?” eltng closer to his arm. tories, Frank. as well as if I dide’t.” “My iittle deceiver! you not tell me?” was no nice to leave the heiress behind saw how opposed your mother was to our engagement, a spark of willfulness my ingoghito. Mrs. Sey- mour,” she added, turning archly round and holding out her hand to the that I owed wy daily bread to the cali- co factory?” And poor Mrs Seymour for once in her life was at a loss for an answer. hh a A ————— Reoolpts, A receipt 1s a written acknowledge- ment of the payment of a debt. All ly, that they may be able to show pay- ment, if by any chance, a bill is pre- sented a second time, for the recovery of all debls exeept those by account; but a receipt for the payment of an account is not valid, ua- less the whole amount of the debt is paid, If, by agreement, a part only is paid, and a receipt in full is given, the creditor must sue for the balance that remains'unpaid. The receipt, so given, is valid only for the amount actually paid, This rule of law dates back the time of Queen Elizabeth. It isa just rule: for-every man who can ought to pay his debts in full. Some exceptions, however, are made where, from the cir- cumstances of i modify it. A receipt in full of an account, Oi which the amount is unsettled, is bind- ing, though the debt proves larger than was expected. Disputed accounts 1 be settled by part payment, for the says that the amount so paid that was actually due. Part payment of a debtor will the debtor, if he takes a receipt in full, for this rule applys only to accounts. When a creditor receives a payment from a friend or relatio f the debtor, a receipt in full will be bind ing upon him. If he takes goods merchandise for a part of the debt, : give a receipt in full the remainder; for took the goo is stand to his bargain. When a creditor part of his bill, and % 3 1 whole, Lo 4 t ‘} aa + | frat #5 the case, IL 18 Just WW # NAY law was all §* takes a note ‘fF i £IVes a receip r HN h he hie only recover can t of Also, part nt amount of the note. ment made before tl yr in some place other it should be paid, will can bt, a receipt in fall is was a favor to the creditor to pay him at that time or place, and his receipt is binding. If a man is unable to pay his debts in full, and his creditors agree to take a part in place of the whole, they are bound by their receipts. The law fa- vors compromises of this nature, sinc they prevent law-suita, Although this rule sometimes hardly on honest men, who are to pay their debts, it is the can be devised, as it reaches all ¢ 1 to « 4 iad . h the honest and the dishOn- the the del given, It baegt esl. When a seal is placed upon a receipt the creditor is not allowed to claim that only part of the debt was paid. The law regards the seal as decisive evidence that the whole debt for which the re- ceipt was given was paid. In the case of receipts there is a curi- It 1s well established that, when a written contract is produ- ced in court, it cannot be altered in any It urple sofcer than the shadow of the Grace talked on, and still Mary Elton pattern Mrs. Seymour was the first to arrive at Mrs. Randall's select soiree on the fact was she wanted to confide her grief to Mrs. Randall’s sympathetic ear, “Crying? Yes, of course I have been crying, Mrs, Randall; ['ve done nothing “Mercy upon us,’ said Mrs. Randall, I hope Frank isn’t in “My dear,” said the old lady in a think that a receipt would be governed debt. creditor come into court and show, by what is called a legal fiction. It declares ments of one. an oral contract, by which the creditor Therefore oral evi- dence of the extent of the payment may be admitted, for though a written con- entrapped—inveighed into the dreadful entanglements, factory girl?” Mrs, Randall uttered an exclamation of horrified surprise, and at the same moment a party of guests were announs ced, among whom was Miss Teller, looking rather more lovely than usual, “Well,” thought Mrs. Seymour, as the new-comers, ‘well, wonders never cease! Grace Teller at Mrs. Randall's soiree! But L suppose it’s all on account of Mary Elton'’s uncle, the Judge. Here comes Mr. Parker and Cynthia; American society; how they will be shocked to see Miss Teller!” Iuvoluntarily she advanced a step or two to witness the meeting. Mr, Par- ker looked quite as much astonished as she had expected, but somehow It Was not the kind of astonishment thal was on the program, “Miss Grace! You bere? Why when did you come from Factoryville?" “You are acquainted with Miss Tel. ler?’ asked Mys, Randall with some surprise, 2 “Quite well, 1n fact Ll heve had the management of her property for some years. Miss Teller is the young lady whe owns the extensive calico factories from which our village takes its name, ”’ “Dear mel’ exclaimed Mrs, Seymour, turning pale, and sinking upon a divan, may be altered by oral evidence, a ———— a ———— Attendance At Meals, There is a great difference in differ. ent households in the promptness and meals when they are announced and the members invited to sit down. In well regulated housholds all the members come promptly and take their places a, the table, and all eat at once; in other houses the members of the family are not prompt and keep coming one after bers may be called several times before waiting and the matron in suspense, This is all wrong. When meals are an- to the tabie should do so eat and get through at once or as nearly so as is compatible with comfort. It is of course unseemly and ill-bred to rush to the table in the family as if the first one down were to have a choice of the food and the lion’s share of it. Such conduct is vulgar; but a prompt and ready attendance at the table when called is the correct thing, and the meal time should be made the occasion of a Flonsat, social time in whieh all may join, Sms AAI SAAN Ax [llinois girlie shoe was earried away during a recent oyclone, We don’t wonder Western people are build. ing storm cellars A Frog Banch. | One morning, beneath Californian | gkies, in the valley of the Pajaro river, { when spring had just begun to wake up and yawn, I had a train of thoughts, says a writer: I was standing near a small pond, It was a beautiful iittle sheet of water and about forty feet | across, Hew calm! No billows shore-~ | ward careered, No breakers, with wild gray locks, perished on its beach, It was a restful poem; a peaceful picture, done in reeds, unfolding lilies, placid water and bullfrogs., I stood still for | some time, allowing the scene to soak | into me until I was oozing with land- scape. So still was I, and so long, that a bullfrog, concluding from the dense, voluminous science which prevailed, that IT was dead, began to warble a sweet lay. The trills of jhis gentle voice set me | thinking, Why would not this pond be la good place to establish a froggery? There were, and are, a good many ! Frenchmen in California, They not | only eat frogs, but have taught other | people to eat them, Now if I could start a frog ranch and conduct it suc- cessfully my fortune was assured, and 1 frogs, and educate them-—the children, I mean. Plans for procuring stock-frogs for stockine the pond | There were only afew in it, 1 know hardly whether to stock my frog range with yearlings, two-year ols, or octogenarians, but felt, as my entbusi- asm grew apace and my blood warmed success of it. 1 could my ranch Big cern myself driving my lrst herd of beef-frogs to market, assisted by a staff of cow-boys elaborately fringed with ix-shooters, or rather frog-boys. 1 could even, in the not very far future, that by force of circumstances and frogs 1 would become a great frog mer- chant, with a reputation as wide-spread il has gradually » slipper tl If to the size of the foot. 806 an old wat apied 1tzell LO respected all oy s great frog-King, business **Melone’s nd 80 popular brands would be consid- > 48 mere toads, De 2 Jumping rAinary jump, as time of profound one wn it, ine frog ma call ona neighbor, but jumping as if his life depended up if a snake was after him. I went to work. Frogs were captu- ould be found and I chased them fot streams and other fF Was going, peace, to Sl AS n Ip red wherever some of them were 1 was indefatigable 0 of the time. The neighbors asked me what I was up to; had I gone « Zs I unfolded my plans to them. us observa- ions were made as ty of undertaking. s fellow said: “Why stools?’ “What do I want “For the frogs to You don’t expect the the time, do you?" ‘1 tha in “I thought most | ) Fru gh # roth ok don’t yo WOT Load - with Will $it on, of in toadstools?"” course, s Q \ 4 to stand ui} 3 i perhaps I had better look around for some toadstools, and said as much to the fellow. This appeared to satisfy him; he looked pleased as he walked off, Seventy-one frogs were caught and placed in the pond. Some of these 1 | sueaked up on while they were dream- ing, others were overcome by main strength, but I lassoed most of them, This about cleaned up all the lage ones in that neighborhood, and I quit at that, jetween the hot chase and cold water, I had contracted a dreadful cold, any- way. I conld have coughed in concert with my frogs, but they didn’t. They declined. Seventy-one frogs with those | that were originally in the pond made eighty-eight. 1 calculated that were originally seventeen in the pond; {all very fine ones, too. This estimate was reached by distinguishing voices in | frog opera. I have a finely cultivated, flourishing ear. I rested from my labors and nursed { my cold, until it was a vigorous adult cold. The world moved on a month or tened to the mighty concerts had there, attending both the matinee and even ing performances, One great green- | throated fellow. whom 1 expeted to drive to market during the summer, wielded the baton. He was the biggest frog in the puddle. He wore no dress coat; just had on a comfortable, close- fitting suit of warts, Dut as time wore on, I noticed no eggs, no tadpoles, no | little frogs or froglets, no frog-calves or calf-frogs, I couldn’t understand his, One day 1 met a Frenchman hunting frogs. I took him to my pond to show | hime what 1 waa endeavoring to do for his race; and told him, among other things, that 1 saw no indications of an | inerease in my herd, and didn’t think I would brand many young frogs that seasen. Being a froggist himself, he immediately took an interest in my plans, and expressed surprise that there was no harvest ripening. For some minutes he appeared to be pondering | over this lack of increase, Suddenly he pond. We withdrew some fifty yards from the rim of the ranch, He com- manded silence, which was unnecessary, as 1 was watching him with a pro- found, trembling silence. Soon after we withdrew the frogs burst forth in the “Charge of Balaklava,” making the noise about twice the size of the charge, They had been silent while we were near the pond. The bull-frog is a medest prima donna The Frenchman was lis- tening intently; was straining every muscle of hise ars, The blood rushed to hus ears, with the strain, He exclaimed: “Day 1s all gentlemen frogs; all roos- taires!® “Roosters?” “Oui, monsieur,” “Then you think as my flock is now there will be no baby frogs, or chicks hatched?’ “Nevaire, no goslings,’’ And it was explamed to me by this bull-frogologist that if I expected my | business to wax, spread and overshadow | the land, I would have to place *‘de | boolfrog wife’ in the pond, And that | 1 eould distinguish the belle frogs from the bullfrogs by their delicately attuned voices, more graceful figures, tapering waists and coquettish airs, 1 went to work agam, and eaught and placed in the pond ninety-seven frogs of coquettish airs and finiken manners, It was too late in the season ing machinery, rows, passed away. Autumn, with its variegated foliage ana gorgeous cider, followed, treading on the hot heels of summer. I was biding my time and counting the profits of my next year’s crop. Time limped on. As winter and the succeed- ing spring were, like two barnyard gan- | the long-frozen music in the throats of my frogs was beginning to thaw out | into sweet strains, a great rain-storm { came, A little tributary of the Pajaro, | running near my frog-hennery, became | swollen and the pond swelled, Their | waters came within a yard of meeting. the jug goes dry, inch by inch the beef- steak fdisappears, and one by one. my frogs jumped from the pond over that three feet of ground into the stream. | They had all become trade-marks, Not one lingered; the belle frogs eloped wilh the bullfrogs, and my hoarded wealth of a twelvemonth, over in the stilly hours of the night as J pensively scratched in a few brief hours the beautiful blue sea. I didn't become a frog-king, but ever | afterward in that vicinity was known | a8 “the toad-hunter.”” Man should not set his heart on wealth, or try to reach it by short cuts or novel means, does he is liable to slip up. He should rather set his heart on being 1 being aun In mis- How-man. make no There gyercome; no one humble, Hing for him, 38 es AG A550 - A Celestial Bangnel, together to the y 208 and prostrates at the fest of his father’s guests, strii 5 forehead on the floor three tit Frond He “ i ISIC NOW Slriges up a perfect din toned s ited oul to agreat : here are numbers of s jes inlaid with pearl, an » guests seat Ul 1 the most honoral head of the adually recedes fun begins fortunatel thr % * ¢ the posts of ti! are ing tie i ATE ANY i where { ry I & eInsaIves ie FOOTH FOIE Away fre are placed at honor, and, courtesy, are compelled taste of every dish placed ] Imagine partaking o as shark's fins, sh have been melloy Thinese regard at to these 0 red the polite th self to serve the guests at his tab | in turn serve him and each other, is done 1n an odd fashion: The | arises, takes his ivory chopsticks | hand, and, fishing out the daintiest part | of some dish before him, hands it with | care in the deep saucer or bowl before | pach guest, The most ludicrous part | of this 1s that the person thus honored is expected to rise each time, murmur “Zia zia” (thank you), and subside again. When this is repeated six or eight times in five minutes it becomes very funny, then rather montonous, and at last exceedingly trying to the | spinal column. The Doctor being fond | of a joke, takes particular pains to be excessively polite to his companion, and | the wavelike motion he keeps him con- stantly describing most affecting. There are seventeen courses, in exactly | the reversed order to which we are ac- | customed-—sweetmeats, nuts and cakes coming first. A pudding, which ranks | in their estimation as a plum-pudding to us, comes next, composed of water lily nuts, blue rice and a Chinese fruit called lichee. Soon after this appears | varnished duck—a dish not many for- | eigners would relish, The fowl is first | | fried, smoked and then varnished over, | this process making it good (¥) for any | { length of time. Bird’s nest and alliga- | | tor soups make their appearance toward | | the close of the feast, and our suffiering | friend, as he attempts to choke them ing { £1 Sond ng 107 Le Doss Server in is composition as in the cognomen. The finger bowls and doylies brought on when all have finished are quite unique, water, out of which long linen cloths are wrung and passed at each table for the convenience of the guests, BE Paris Advertising. They are learning how to advertise in Paris, A curious scene was witnessed the other day in a fashionable quarter. A fashionably dressed young man walk- ed into a well-known cafe; then, having managed to attract some attention, be sauntered up and down the garden, finally seating himself at a small table To him came a person who from his conversation, proved to be a tailor, and who accused him in warm words of being un Jul, stating that he had dressed on credit for five years The young fellow fired up and declared himself insulted. A crowd ered and eager ears listened to the high words, Finally to convince his quon- dam tailor that another house was cheaper and better, the late client pull- od out the bill for the garments he wore. The name, price, address, ete., were read aloud and the open-mouthed crowd drank it in The en ng tallow who got up this little drama found his profits, iLife In & Far Away Fiasece. Far up that anclent river Halys, on either side, is many a village where at work in Constantinople, for the farm- And as there is no bank in Anatolia and no is consumed by the sharp politzadji for transferring the remainder from Con- These Armenian women and girls, Indeed, any one born there with frail constitu- jon dies before long running this gaunt- let of infantile disease and exposure; so And the wheatfand simple soups, helps to develop beautiful teeth and bones, goodidigestion and iron muscles, Some years ago an American doctor practicing in Sivas, or two days old, on her back and walk everything was all right with them. But when the doctor asked one of them, “Why don’t you learn how to read?” she answered with that peculiar shrug of her magnificent shoulder, “Ugh! You get out. What can a learn? some of therm are about as awkward in handling a needle, too, wonld be. When a hamal, or custom-hous ter, returns after years al Slambou naturally brings new I know one who presented his wife with a full set of civilized spoons, knives and forks: but she gm tly traded them off GIpLiy L Cow And as 4 COW i i= 4 $ idl W iim v 1 } great wooden spoon of t i her ancien on fingers. Another steadily re to sell his daughter til made ‘him pay $75 for a girl his wanted. Others discourse learnediy on tricks and on the differ- linguas, Some of them quite eager for the mental improve- nt of their women and children. visited a small villa near which has 300i for both sexes the custom-house ent European _ Riv g @ ry 1 8 a gOoa & supported by interest ney col FL Some time ago, st in Armenian village « T # ’ i ded ox ar, and heard se ¥otd, ments which { considered rank her American excellent things t cate every one of your girls {and simpii- fy vour weddings. Here’s one of our young men with elastic step and beam- ing face. He has a future of vast sibilities, iding rise. ) town, Ateve . Youlook L. ‘What's PoOSs~ Rumors of We That young he returns, © intohis face. 1 . the matter, man? Got a toothache? Your girl dead?’ ‘O, nothing, nothing,’ has to-day run 6,000 fpiastras ($240) into debt for the extragances of one of our village wed- A few mouths later for that debt he goes to Constantinople to be a slave for his young wife Beloved, by your own voluntary slavery to evil cus- tom we are becoming poorer and fewer every year in this progressive century.” dings. and leaves be another here, Years, $ WA) fiallooning Possibilities, 4 i wh A000 vi ‘Will C gate the air?” “Yes when we {mes more power per ele r help us to Davi- Aan get ave, or 8X pound of weight , we now get from the best forms of Electricity has done engines, not yet. Here is the problem,’ tap- $e hia b owt avitl +ith his fist “YW ping his knee sLOULLY Wild 3118 GSS. e want to get electricity from coal direct without the intervention of boiler and epgine. A good many people are at work on it, too, I tell you,” said the famous inventor, Tom Edison, to-day. “You are not?” “Ah. I won't say, yet! I snail that won't Say it—we don’t see our way at all to it; but I will say it is surely possible. Zinc and other metals ;we can get into electricity at once, but the trouble is to do that with coal and carbon. If we boiler and steam-engihe we get only ype-horse power from three pounds of coal. We can’t transmit directly the power of carbon. If we could the ocean steamship could bave all of her boiler- ers for cargo, while the motive power would not occupy more than half the room at present devoted to the heavy Enormous sums would be and the cost of “Cannot you get power enough by run electric “Certainly—get all we want and “Only?” “Only we can’t feed our engines with money. In fact, it is money we want, and for that we want the power. Zinc is just as much a combustable in the battery or jar as coal is in the furnace, times as much as coal, a difference in cost per pound of 245 tol, or 24.5 per cent. “Bat about the balloon?” “Well, baving lightness with power, we should only need enough balloon for actual lifting power, and we would attain a very high velocity. You could hold & ten-horse moter oul in your hand, and one in the air, with five pounds of coal, could the consumption be direct, the little jigwer could go any- where. Nobody would want to ascend to great heights where the air’s resist. ance to the propeller to decrease, but skim along Over the trees and houses like a bird above the water. The rad- ders could all be worked, and your bal- lastless Dlioon Regi raised or lowered, turned t or left, by the moter itself, and a boy could de all the work. Such an arrangement could scarcely do for heavy freight, but it Soda CAITY Passengers ad mail matter parcels, and move readily at #0 t 100 miles an hour. If we ean solve the power question we can do anything. .
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers