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EIFFEL'S BIG TOWER.
Mrs. Frank Leslie Describes Her
Ascent to the Top Platform.
ITS MYSTERIOUS WITCHERY.
Restaurants Three Hundred andxPorty
Peet in the Air.
THE YIEWFE031 THE .TOP OP THE TOWER
ICOKBESPOITPENCE OF THE DISPATCH.
Pabis, September 10. In the capital of
the nation, whom ridicule kills, they have
erected a tower which is quite the biggest
thing among towers that the world has seen.
It is not a heavy, ungainly tower of stone,
hut a light and elegant metal tower, suita
ble to the genius of the Gallic race. But
the amazing thing about this tower is its
height of 300 meters 981 feet, which is far
nnd away greater than that of any other
tower or building whatsoever. Of the
height of Babel we have no record, hut our
own Obeliik at Washington measures 554
feet, or 32 feet and 4 inches higher than the
Cathedral of Cologne, which is the next
highest structure in the world. Measured
against these now paltry standards, the
supereminence of the Parisian tower is
simply crushing.
Few persons who have not seen it can
realize the imposing effect of a structure of
such enormous size. Instead of the hideons
monstrosity I had been led to expect, it is a
mysteriously graceful fabric, especially
when seen from a distance. It dominates
everything in the city, and when you look
out of the window of your house the new
Babel looms in your eyes as the Grandest
thing of all. Even when you close your
window you have not done with the colossal
wonder. It pursnes you like a phantom.
The tremendous spider's web of reticulated
metal haunts you in your dreams, until,
fascinated beyond the power of resistance,
you bid your coachman some fine day drive
in that direction, as I did, and mount the
lift which swirls up 100 human beings at a
time through metal girders and past enor
mous staircases ot iron, compared witn
which Jacob's famous ladder was a prehis-
' tone sham.
BEGnrarETG the asceitx.
We went up with great ease in one of the
'two elevators working between the base
ment and "first story, and felt as if we were
i going up the Bigi. Imagine an ordinary
horse-car built upon the American plan with
' a passage in the center, seats ior 20 and
standing room for 10 more, a door on each
side with windows in the doors, and you
have the lower Eiffel Tower elevator. A
second car is placed upon the first. The
wheels, instead ot being under your feet, are
behind tbe cars, and run upon almost per
pend icular rails. The problem of construct
ing Hits which should travel not only on an
inclined path, hut on one in which the angle
of inclination is constantly varying, was
wholly new, lam told, and presented con
siderable difficulties, which appear, however,
to have been overcome with great success.
The view from the car window through
the huge breastwork of iron is impressive,
and not at all disagreeable. It is impossi
ble to give an adequate idea of the stupend
ous and complicated mass of bracing run
ning in all directions and uniting the whole
structure in one rigid pile. In about a
minute the car reaches the first platform
112 meters, about 340 feet, from the ground
level and while the passengers who have
come up with me in the lift are alighting on
one side, those wishing to go down enter by
the opposite door.
The crowd on tbe first floor is immense
there are perhaps 8,000 people going and
coming inside and outside the internal
galleries and about tbe four huge eating
houses, which are able to accommodate from
00 to 600 persons. These oflerreat variety
in their architecture and purpose. There is
an Anglo-American barroom, a Flemish
beer saloon, a Russian restaurant and a
French restaurant. The length of each of
these four establishments is 105 feet It
may seem odd to hear of cellars at such a
height, vet those in the tower are cool, dark
and well fitted with ventilating shafts and
other arrangements for keeping the tempera
ture low; the cellar in which the meat is
stored is kept almost at freezing point. Then
there are four corner pavilions, 50 feet
square. The platform on which these vari
ous constructions stand, is carried upon iron
floor beams, and the space between the floor
beams is filled in with hollow terra cotta
panels which are extremely light and
strong. The whole of this part of the Eiffel
"venture calls forcibly to mind what the old
Tower of Babel must have been after the
confusion ot tongues.
AN EKTEBPEISIKO XETVSPAPEB.
But it was in the outer gallery, which is
two feet below the restaurants and rnns
around the four faces of the tower, that the
crowd appeared the thickest. This gallery
is fully eight or nine feet wide, and has a
development of nearly 1,000 Jeet It has a
series of arcades in ornamental ironwork,
which add to the general architectural
effect. The view from this gallery is finer
than that afforded by the balcony of the
loftiest Paris dwelling, and exceeds" in pict
uresque display that obtained from the top
of If otre Same.
The journey to the second platform is ac
complished much in the same time and
manner as the first. The floor at this point
covers an area of 15,000 square feet. It is
surrounded by a covered gallery as broad as
that on the first floor, but which extends
only about half its length. The central
portion of the floor is devoted to the lift
service, considerable space being necessary
here to provide for the ascending and
descending current of traffic. The same
lovely scenery is to be had, although from
a greater distance, the hills and country
round Paris coming into clearer view, and
the somber masses of woods and forests
mantling beautifully in the west. There
are no restaurants on the second landing
stage; but I came across a model printing
office, belonging to that enterprising French
daily, the Figaro, which has compositors,
editors, printing presses and folders, to
bring out a special edition called the Exhi
bition Figaro, with a number of which I
was presented.
Many timid persons avoid the elevators
and patronize the staircases to mount to the
first and second landing stages. According
to his contract IX. Eiffel is bound to provide
for the ascent of 2,356 persons per hour to
the first platform, and 750 per hour to the
top. The tariff, whether by lift or staircase,
is the same;. 40 cents to the first floor, CO
cents to the second, and $1 to the top; red
tickets being issued for the first, white for
the second, and blue for the summit. Tbe
staircases from the ground-level to the first
floor are very easy and comparatively wide;
there are two of these staircases, one fixed
in tbe western and the other within the
eastern "leg" or column, and there are num
erous landings on account of frequent turns
in the stairway. One staircassJs devoted to
-visitors going up, and tbe other to those
who are descending. Between the first and
second stories, a windine staircase is built in
the center of each "leg;" the diameter of
this staircase is three leet across the hand
rails, and the height of the steps is seven
inches.
EAST TO CLIMB.
A gentleman who preferred the staircase
to tbe lift told me that the first floor is soon
reached by short zigzag flights, and you find
that vou are scarcely more fatigued than
after having gone up five step flights in an
apartment house. After a brief rest you
bravely start for the second floor. Here
you wind up a spiral staircase, broken by
an occasional straight flight. Tne wind
whistles in the iron girders as it whistles in
the rigging of a ship. Things begin to grow
small on the gronnd, and your horizon en
larges with every step. Hut you don't get
dizzy. Four good iron rails run along the
outside ol your stairway, while you have a
big, round iron pillar on your left. Under
loot the steps are made of substantial iron
plates. There is nothing shaky about this;
everything is solid. So even the most timid
woman ana child feels at ease, goes up and
up, stops at the little landings to enjoy the
panorama, and finally reaches the second
floor without being weary of limb or tremb
ling through fear, from the second story
up to the summit of the tower there is one
spiral staircase 106 feet in height, which is
reserved to the service of the tower, and is
not placed at the disposal of the public.
For the last section of tbe tower, that is to
say, from the second story to the upper
platform, the height to be overcome is 525
leet, or twice the height of the Trocadero.
An intermediate stage, constructed midway
between the second story and the upper
platform is the starting point of the elevator.
This is the strange looking mass of iron
which appears from below, when you look
up, as if it had been leit by mistake by the
workmen who hum the tower, une cage
travels from the intermediate stage, that is
to say, a distance of 262 feet; the cage is
connected by cables to a second cabin,which
acts as a counterweight, and carries pas
sengers from tbe second story upward to the
intermediate stage, also a distance of 262
feet. The arrangement is such thatwhen
the lift is at work the cages are traveling in
opposite directions.
OS THE TOP PLATFOEM.
I entered the cage with a beating heart.
It holds about 63 people, who have to stand
up, by the way. It is merely a square cahin
or case, with the upper portion of two sides
glazed. There are broad front windows on
two sides and just a small space in each cor
ner that is closed by iron trellis work, in
order to admit the air. The weight of each
cabin loaded is about eight tons, and the
weight unloaded four tons. Special pre
cautions have been taken to protect the
various parts of the lift irom the action of
tbe wind. In about one minute and a half
the elevator reaches the central'changing
E lace, where the guard calls out "all change
ere."
I came down with the rest of the passen
gers, walked across a narrow bridge and en
tered a similar elevator, which, in about a
minute, starts on its upward journey. My
heart went on beating fast, especially as
from time to time tbe lift gave strange little
jerks. One more minute and a half brought
us as high as we are allowed to go. The
total time occupied in going lroni the ground
to the summit is seven minutes. "Look out
for the step, ladies!" cries tneguard. I look
down, ot course, and between a rather wide
gap in the flooring see the Exposition
gardens 902 feet below 275 meters which
is the actual height from the ground level
to which tbe public are tafcen.
This tip-top platform is covered in all
round with woodwork, with openings about
breast high, through which the visitors ad
mire the really marvellous panorama out
side. Paris lies in sunlight at our feet, with
shining domes, the whole veiled in a mist
which deepens on the distant hills. The
Seine looks like the motionless glass used to
imitate water on big relief maps; the Tri
umphal Arch looks like a paper weight, the
Luxor obelisk like a needle, and the Yen
dome column like its case. I can well be
lieve that the summit of the tower is plainly
visible, as someone present avers, from the
belfry of Chartres Cathedral, 52 miles south
west of Paris.
FBENCH VANDALS.
The floor of this high belvedere has an
area of 18 square metres, over 55 square feet.
The ceiling, which is jnst below the rim of
white opal gas jets that are lighted every
evening, somewhat resembles the lower
deck on board a large steamer. The wood
work here and in the lifts, and, in fact, all
over the tower, is covered with pencil
scribblings of the names and addresses of
visitors, with the dates at which their as
cents were made. Many of these scrawls
afford a safe clew which will be turned to
account when M. Eiffel has a little more
leisure to institute legal proceedings against
those who thus wantonly deteriorate bis pro
perty. Luckily for the Anglo-Saxon repu
tation the majority of the names, I am
happy to sav, appear to be French.
A small spiral staircase leads to a small
platform 13 feet higher, which runs round
the great lantern, upon the summit of which
is the flagstaff from which flies the enormous
3G-foot tricolor. The force of tbe wind at
the top of the tower is so great that tbe
standard has to be renewed nearly every
day. From calculations made concerning
its powers of resistance, the tower, I am in
formed, is able to sustain a normal wind
pressure ot 881 pounds to the square yard, or
a total pressure of more than 6,000,000
pounds; so that if at any time a hurricane
of such unheard of force should
come to exert its force against it, the
tower would bravely stand its ground, while
in all probability most ot tbe surrounding
monuments in the French capital would be
destroyed. The most violent storm as yet
observed in these latitudes do not exceed
an effort equal to 330 pounds to the square
yard.
Nor is the descent more difficult than the
ascent, especially by the staircases. It is
easier, in fact, for the flights, I am told, are
not steep nor too precipitous. You are soon
on tbe ground again both ways, and ready
to agree with the remark of a visitor, who
said: "Why, going up the Aro-de-Tri-omphe
and Notre-Dame tired me more than
the Tower." And she might have added
that in neither case was the prospect so
grandiose as lrom the lofty lookout at the
Exposition. Feaxk. Leslie.
LITTLE K0YIXG STONES.
Fct In the Eye They Clear It of Foreign
Substances.
Lewlston Journal. 1
The eye-stone was a boy's marvel, reputed
to do wonderful things. It could clean out
flats mud obtained by an unfortunate but
well-directed shot while in swimming better
than a peaked stick, and for shinning
around the eyeball the youth of early days
imputed no less than human knowledge
to it.
"Here are'some," said the druggist Tues
day to a Journal man. 'They are a cal
careous formation. Drop them "in vinegar or
a weak solution of acetic acid, and the re
action thns set in motion makes them lively.
Put them in an eye flat side in and they
move around and clear it of foreign sub
stances." "Do you sell many?"
"Lots of them. Some of them are treas
ured highly. Some are supposed to 'know
more than others." t
"Are they expensive?"
"Well, it won't break a banker to buy
one."
"How much for my choice?"
"Ien cents each."
TWO GEAT-HAIRED JOMPERS.
An Aged Husband and Wife Enffmre In nn
Amuainc Contest.
Detroit Free Press. 1
There was quite a crowd gathered in front
of a house on Fourth avenue last evening
watching a rather novel jumping match
which was in progress in the front yard. A
middle-aged man and his gray-haired wife
were the participants, and the distance was
measured off on the walk that led from the
house to the gate. The family was repre
sented by a number of sons and daughters,
who ranged themselves alongside to see fair
play and cheer and encourage the jumpers,
"I'll bet on father," cried one of the
girls.
"Mother beat that time," shouted a young
man.
"Hurrah! Hurrah!" cried the family in
chorus.
When it was over "mother" sat down on
the doorstep and fanned herself with a
newspaper. "We're gettin' old, father. I
can't begin to jump as I used to," she said,
pleasantly. "Yon couldn't have beat me a
few years ago.
A Truly Wonderful Plant,
Cnthbert (Ga.) Appeil.I
Mrs. J. W. Lee has a resurrection flower
that is a curiosity. It was plucked from a
mountain in Mexico 12 years ago and
placed in a bureau drawer and never
planted. It looks dry and dead, but when
placed in water, revives, turns green and
has the appearance of arbor vitas.
CANNING SUGAR COKN
An Insight Into the Process of Pack
ing the Succulent Edible.
ORIGIN OP A GREAT INDtJSTRT.
A Stroll Through and About a Maine Corn
Canning Factory.-
BEAD! MONEY FOR THE POOR FARMER
COKEESrONDENCE OF TEE DISPATCH. I
Bbidgton, Me., September 20. Some
idea of the vast proportions of Maine's an
nual corn-canning industry may be had
from the fact that the tin required for an
average season's pack would cover 140 acres
with sheets, and the cans, if placed
lengthwise in a continuous line, would reach
180 miles.
In 1886, which was a representative year,
there were packed in Maine not less that
11,146,872 cans. In 1887, which was more
than an average season, the increase was
about 25 per cent, making in round numbers
not far from 14,000,000 cans. In 1888, which
was a poor season, owing to early frosts,
there was a marked falling off from the pack
of the preceding season. In 1886, which,
as we have said, was an average year, the
grand total of cans put up in the United
States was 40,193,640. Maine, as usual,
took the lead, packing 2,650,772 more cans
than Maryland, the next State in amount,
and 4,941,272 and 9,394.848 more cans than
the great States of New York and Ohio re
spectively. This, however, does not represent
the maximum yield, as there were a number
of the smaller packing factories unreported.
Last year the sweet corn plant throughout
the State was upward of 16,000 acres, or 25
square miles, and the product of this area
was used in about 82 factories, of which 20
new ones were started. This season there is
promise of a good yield.
In packing, the corn is put up in tin cans
4 inches long, 3 inches in diameter,
weighing when filled, 27 ounces. They are
then encased in wrappers, are placed in
square wooden boxes, or "cases," two dozen
cans to the case, and are shipped not only
'to various points throughout the United
States, the Ganadas, Central America, etc.,
but to almost every other habitable portion
of the globe. It is
AVAILABLE DT ALL CLIMATES,
opening equally well in the arctic regions
and the tropics. In one instance it goes to
a missionary post in Africa, where it is
transported by negroes on foot 1,000 miles
from the point of unloading.
In tbe great centers of the South and
"West are seen the familiar cases, which bear
on tbeir illumined label the inscriptions of
"Maine's world-renowned sweet corn."
Maine's sweet corn is, indeed, the best in
the world, and commands the highest price
of any in the markets. Some ot the West
ern States produce quite good canned corn,
but no other State than Maine furnishes it
as nntritious. sweet and tender. Her soil
and atmosphere are peculiarly adapted to
the growth of sugar corn, which is a dwarf
variety. A few years ago chemical analysis
was made of corn packed in Maine, Mary
land and Iowa, as representative geograph
ical points, which showed the following as
to the food value of the three lots: Maine
corn, 456.7; Iowa corn, 350.7; Maryland corn,
303.7. By this it is seen that the Maine
corn stood 30 per cent above the Iowa and
50 per cent above the Maryland in food
value; or, if Maryland corn is worth 80 cents
per dozen cans and Iowa ?1, the Maine corn
is worth 51 25.
The evolution of the sweet-corn industry
is one ot notable character. About the year
1842, Isaac Wmsldw, of Portland, Me., at
that time sojourning In France, conceived
the idea of preserving green vegetables by
hermetically sealing them in cans. He
communicated his plans to his brother
Nathan in Portland, who soon began a series
of experiments. From the shortness of the
season in which they could be conducted, it
took a long time before practical results
were reached.
THE FIRST CANNED COEN.
He began canning in 1852, in the town of
Westbrook, adjoining Portland. In that
year, when Mr. Winslow had produced a"
complete outht, sufficient for the primitive
methods of that period, his annual packing
was only 30,000 cans, and until the begin
ning of the war was seldom, if ever,smore
than 60,000 cans annually. Now, almost
any one of the many factories puts up from
twice to five times that number.
The Bridgton factory, situated in a great
corn-plantine center, is one of the best rep
resentatives of its kind in the State. Here
the process of packing sweet corn, like
many other manufacturing industries, has
undergone a complete revolution within a
few years by reason of the introduction of
improved machinery. At this factory in
the fall of 1869, in which an unusually
large acreage was planted, there were em
ployed 800 hands, ot whom 100 were huskers
and 375 cutters; 600,000 cans, the product
of 834 acres, were put up. Since then hand
labor has given place to machinery, except
in husking, which is still done by a busy
brigade ot men and boys, from the old man
of 80 to the 8-year-old lad, seated on stools,
and filling bushel baskets as fast as they
can cut off the butts and strip the husks
lrom the ear. But this picturesque autumn
spectacle is doomed soon to be a thing of the
past, as even now an ingenious hnsking ma
chine is nearly perfected, and. in fact, is in
practical operation by some of the smaller
firms.
INTRODUCING MACHINEET.
TJp to the year 1874 the corn was cut from
the cob by hand with a small bent knife
with a causre. with which the manipulator
rapidly pared oft the corn by downward
strokes, with the other hand steadying and
turning the ear against the inside of a long
tray. Now a machine does the work as
well, one man turning out as much as
twelve men could by hand. The ear is
placed in position by the left hand, while
by an immediate lever-stroke by the right
it is forced through an ingenious arrange
ment of knives and longitudinal scrapers,
which in an instant cut off the kernels
clean, and, what was the most difficult ob
stacle to overcome, removes all the juice
without taking any of the hull; a feat not
always accomplished by new or careless
operators by hand under the old system.
This season a couple of steam corn-cutting
machines are also used in the Bridgton
factory. Likewise a new machine termed a
"killer," which, on the plan of a coarse
sieve, separates the kernels from the silk or
other extraneons substances.
The fact that only five or six weeks out of
the year are available for experimenting
explains why it has taken so long a time to
perfect the cutting and other corn packing
machinery.
"Pressing" follows. This is measuring
and filling the can with a certain amount ot
corn through the hole in the upper end,
preparatory to "sealing." Two kinds of
machinery have lately come into use for
this, each of which does three-fold work over
hand. With tbe machine in use at the
Bridgton factory, an ordinary workman
can press 60 cans a minute, or 36,000 in ten
hours, which is more than three times as
much as can be done with the old hand-press
by the quickest and stoutest man with the
aid of a boy.
THE FINISHING PEOCESSES.
"Sealing" is the next step. A tin cap is
placed over the aperture and soldered in
with a hot revolving iron. In this process,
too, there have been improvements, though
not so radical as in other branches. The
can itself was first made by cutting out with
hand shears the round piece which forms
the bottom. Then a machine was invented
to cut it. Afterward a die was used. The
next improvement was a machine which cut
the bottom out and turned up the edge at
the same time. In this way there has been
an advance, from one man's making 180
cans a daywhich was considered a good
day's work, to the turning .out by machine
of 730 cans, or four times as many.
The next process, boiling, likewise dis
closes the "march of improvement. Until
within a year or two the cans were sub"
jected to over four hours' immersion in
tanks of boiling water. Now they are
boiled in "wood baths" from 20 to 30 min
utes, and finished in one hour by steaming
in iron retorts.
Lacquering, labeling, boxing and ship
ping are the finishing steps. All is done by
hand except the labeling, which is per
formed by a bevy of young women, who
rapidly paste the ends of many wrappers at
a time and deftly draw them around the
cans. x
When the last of the immense pile of
boxed cans has been carted to the cars or
steamer, the corn factory, previously so
busy, suddenly becomes silent and deserted,
except by the foreman and three or four can
makers, until the beginning ot another corn
season.
The corn canning industry is a great help
to the small farmer. In addition to his
other crops he plants every year from one to
five, and in more instances as many as 20
acres, which bring him 3 cents a canfull,
thereby supplying him with an abundance
of ready cash. Charles O. Sticknkt.
KICOBARESE FDKERAL RITES.
How They Honor Their Dead Their Prefer,
enco For Odd Numbers.
The mortuary customs in the Central and
Southern Nicobar Islands, says the Calcutta
Statesman, differ largely from those .ob
served by the tribes inhabiting the northern
portion of the Archipelago; all alike appear
to indulge in demonstrations of grief which
amount to frenzied extravagance, and which
are induced in the majority of the mourners
less by real sorrow than by tbe dread enter
tained of the disembodied spirit, who is
credited with peculiar activity and malevo
lence immediately after its release.
It is incumbent on all friends and rela
tives to repair as speedily as possible to the
hut where a death has taken place, and
those wbo fail to bring with them the cus
tomary offerings of white or colored calico
must make a valid excuse to the chief
monrner. who would otherwise regard the
omission as a slight to be remembered and-
rendered in kind at the earliest opportunity.
These offerings, which yary from a few
yards to an entire piece of calico, are, as
soon as presented, torn into lengths of about
two yards and utilized for shrouding the
corpse; they must be of new material, and
may be ot red, white, blue, striped or
checked, but never of black calico.
In all their funeral appointments the
Nicobarese have, it appears, an unexplained
preference for uneven numbers; the body
must be washed once, thrice, or five times.
It is laid on a bed of the calico in lengths,
30 being used for a headman and 29 or any
less nneven number for persons ot minor
importance. Under the calico are placed 3,
5 or 7 areca spaths, and these again are kept
in position by 5. 7 or 9 swaths or bands of
calico. Cuiious V-shaped pegs to the num
ber of seven or nine are used to secure the
body in the grave, in order to prevent its
abstraction by a class of evil spirits whose
energies are supposed to be devoted to this
end.:
A practice analogous to that of barring
the ghost by fire prevails also in these
islands, and a pyre is ignited with fire sticks
which are only used on these occasions
at the foot of the hut for the two-iold pur
pose ot keeping tbe disembodied spirit at a
distance and apprising friends approaching
or passing in a canoe ot tbe sad event.
Mourners are required to abstain from food
from the time ol the death until after the
described cleansing of the dwelling and per
sonal ablutions and lustration by the men
luana or priest medicine man on the follow
ing dav; qnids of betel and sips of almost
boiling water are the only refreshment per
mitted during the interval.
There are cemeteries attached to every
village, in which each family, owns a cer
tain area. The natives of the inland and
coasts tribes in the southern group leave I
flip fpnri Tlnrlifttllrhpfl? Knf nt Claw ?iilia,. 4
Choura, Teressa, and Bompaka ossuaries
are found, whither after successive exhuma
tions, the remains are deposited. At Car
Nicobar mortuary huts are kept exclusively
for the reception of the dead prior to their
interment. Certain sacrificial acts are also
performed at the grave, and on the succeed
ing dayB, which are of interest, and through
out the group the memory of the dead is
kept alive and their names propitiated by
frequent feasts, which are celebrated in
their honor at intervals during the mourn
ing period, which extends sometimes over
two or three years.
A FLUNG MACHINE.
Some Good Reniona Wbr It Is Impossible to
Blake One.
Popular Science Monthly.
We must admit that a bird is an incom
parable model of a flying machine. No
machine that we may hope to devise, for the
same weight of machine, fuel and directing
brain, is half so effective. And yet this
machine, thus perfected through infinite
ages by a ruthless process of nat
ural selection, reaches its limit of
weight at about 50 pounds. I said "weight
of machine, fuel and directing brain."
Here is another prodigious advantage of the
natural over 'the artificial machine. The
flying animal is its own engineer. The
flying machine must carry its engineer. The
directing engineer in the former (the brain)
is perhaps an ounce, in the latter it is 150
pounds. The limit of the flying animal is
50 pounds.
The smallest possible weight of a flying
machine, with its necessary fuel and en
gineer, even without freight or passenger,
could not be less than 300 or 400 pounds.
Now, to complete the argument, put these
three indisputable facts together: 1. There
if a low limit of weight, certainly not much
beyond 50 pounds, beyond which it is im
possible for an animal to fly.
Nature has reached this limit, and
with her utmost effort has failed
to pass it. 2. The animal machine is far
more effective than any we may hope to
make; therefore, the limit of the weight of
a successlul flying machine cannot be more
than 50 pounds. 3. The weight of any
machine constructed for flying, including
fuel and engineer, cannot be less than 300
or 400 pounds.
Is it not demonstrated that a true flying
machine, self-raising, sell-sustaining, self
propelling, is physically impossible.
WHAT A CHINOOK CAN DO.
Eight Feet of Snow Melted In 12 Honra
by tbe Warm WaTe.
Correspondence of the Globe Democrat.1
Mr. S. G. Cosgrove. of Pomeroy, Wash.
T., is the Department Commander of the
Grand Army of the Bepublic for Washing
ton. He enjoys the distinction of being the
only private elevated to that responsible
position. He came West from Ohio, where
he was a prominent educator. Telling of
what be had Known the chinook to accom
plish, Mr. Cosgrove said this:
"I have seen eight feet of snow, that is
eight feet measured as it fell from time to
time, go' off the ground here in 12 hours.
That was the hardest winter I have known
in Washington. Usually the chinooks are
so frequent that the snow has no opportunity
to accumulate. But that winter it lay 19
days before melting. The farmers had not
prepared for it, and cattle had a hard time
getting through. There was an interesting
exhibition of the instinct of the poor brutes.
At the very first sign ot the chinook the old
cows, which had been about to drop with
hunger, could be seen staggering toward the
tops of the bills. They seemed to know that
there the snow would melt fastest and tbe
grass be uhcovereisoonest.
"In Eastern Washington you can see
teams workingin the fielas'every month in
the winter. We have days which are cold
and when the ground freezes to some depth'
but one day's cbinooking will take all o'f
the frost out of the ground. Ton may not
believe it, but I have Been six inches of frost'
go out of the ground in one hour. That is a
Sretty bigntory to tell farmers back in the
Usiissippi Valley, but it is true."
COMMON-SENSE CHAT.
Shirley Dare Discusses Some of the
Latest Fashions for Women.
MARI ANDERSOS'S STREET DRESS.
Good Societr Has Bidden Farewell to the
Big Bustle.
MRS. BERNARD BEERE'S ARTISTIC GOWN
rWEITTEN FOB THI DISrATCH.1
You all have the fashions before yon in
papers and magazines. Suppose, instead of
rehearsing all the hackneyed items, we go
over them to criticise and select what will
suit a really artistio taste. That includes
convenience, sound wear and comfort, as
well as becoming effects. It does not in
clude the pretended antique, studied by am
bitious damsels, for Greek and medieval
dresses are as inartistic for the society of to
day as a freedom cap and gown of the star
spangled banners. Fitness for its time and
purpose is the keynote of taste anywhere.
Take the fashion plates in the popular
sheets, and the artist quickly discrim
inates the points which recommend tbe
present style. The waists are well pro
portioned, sleeves capable of being made
convenient, the skirts full enough for be
coming drapery and clear the ground.
True, dressmakers cut skirts to brush the
street, but there is a general protest on the
part of wearers, which wins the day. When
tbe trailing skirt last made its advent 20
years ago, women meekly swept a quarter
yard of demi-train over the pavement, for
vulgar men to step on and poke their canes
through, without trying to evade the fash
ion. But now, fine dressmakers acknowl
edge that sweeping skirts are in style, yet
advise against them, and fine women follow
their advice. The hands on the dial have
moved forward. Nobody pretends to wear a
bustle now, in good society. Two springs in
the petticoatand full back breadth in the
dress give elegant relief to the figure, but
even the little silk pad is discarded by mod
ish dressers, though second-rate women cling
to the relic of the big, bouffant bustle. Stiff
underskirts keep the dress from clinging
abont the limbs, and the flounced haircloth,
or the cheap manilla skirting, which retains
its wiry quality without starch after wash
ing, give that bouyant air to draperies
which big tournures never have.
SOME FASHIONS.
The coat-shaped polonaise in velvet or
matelasse over a skirt of soft wool, is the
stylish street dress for autumn, varied by
tbe much braided jacket for shopping or
rnnning about, and the -Cossack capes, or
coachman's capes in three to five over
lapping folds, for those who can wear them.
The artistic woman will strike these capes
irom use at once, as they are the most try
ing thing in the fashion. As commonly
worn, of contrasting color to the dress, they
give a parti-colored effect and cut up the
figure intolerably. Of the same color as
the coat they might be admitted for warmth,
bnt only for slender, fine figures. A well
drawn, clean lined pair of shoulders in a
cape looks absolutely clumsy. The only
cape that suits general style is the military,
cut precisely like that on a soldier's over
coat. This is useful as an additional pio
tcction, and lends a grace to the close coat,
especially with that silk lining to suit the
cloth.
The fabrics of the season are many, but
strict style chooses for coats among velvet,
corduroy, camel's hair cloth, serge and
smooth-faced cloth, light, thick and pliant.
A lady who dresses well, but with carelul
outlay, does well to choose camel's hair
cloth in dark green or prune shades, chest
nut or Eiffel red; the new terracotta prune
or nut-brown being most stylish. The coat
has short directoire front, with plaits' in
the back covering, the skirt. Or it is a
polonaise, simply fitting, enveloping tbe en
tire figure, and might be as well worn with
out any dress for all that is seen of the lat
ter. An economical woman will have a coat
of this style and wear out her old dresses
under it for the street. I repeat the caution
of careful women never to wear the waist of
a good dress with a cloak, which rubs and
defaces the bodice, but keep a plain wool
jersey to wear under wraps. The coat is
made handsome, with velvet collar and
trimmings, and a long front of velvet is a
sensible addition, laid over the clotb, which
it keeps from wearing. A velvet poiqt cov
ering the back to the waist also gives
warmth, rat the velvet breadth under the
coat sKirts open in tne Pace is out ot taste.
The open skirt looks and is chilly in windy
autumn, and appears as if a lady had made
a mistake in dressing, while a rich fabric is
sure to be crushed in sitting and show it
Country dressmakers show very poor taste
in making cloth coats open bacfc and front
over wool goods ol contrasting color, and the
effect is not much better in moire and velvet.
MBS. BEEEE'S NEW GOWNS.
Full velvet sleeves on a cloth coat are
inartistic.unless worn with a velvet skirt.
as a sleeveless cloth overdress upon a velvet
gown. They are in fashion, it is true,
young woman, but you don't want to wear
them, as they make the cloth look poor be
side them, and you can spend your money to
better advantage. It is well enough if you
can afford to dress as Mrs. Bernard Beere
does, who is, or whose dressmaker is, the most
admirable designer on the English stage.
Her costume will be a close overdress of
India camels hair, in indistinct chevron
and shawl weaving, of one color, or two
shades almost alike, sleeveless and open
over full velvet robe, with rich metallic
embroidered girdle, and border at throat
and hem. She looks like a picture in it
and sumptuous enough for a countess,
while a New York girl will spend enough
on her eommonplace street dress to have
such a gown twice over. What will she
spend it in? Why, in the coarse braiding
and applied trimming which disfigure every
other dress one sees, trimmings only fit for
upholstery, not for women's figures, that do
not add one idea of refinement or pleasure
to adress. Passementerie.to be worth wear
ing, costs like lace, real lace, mind, and
these detestable woolen gimps and sontaches
have the stamp of Berlin and machine work
all over. Different as day from dusk are
the narrow borders and ribbons embroidered
in small Arabic lettering of gold or strong
color, to which all the rich confused shades
of tbe grounding converge. This is the
finest of machine work when machine at all,
and meant for the harmonious bordering of
mellow-hued velvets and camel hair, more
silken and supple than velvet.
If one can't afford camel's hair, Eastern
embroideries and. velvet underdresses, a
suit of chestnut corduroy is as durable and
chic as anything in the way of inexpensive
dress. Just as a gentleman who can t afford
lrock coats and dress coats keeps to gray
cheviot, a lady compelled to count cost
chooses between serge and corduroy. A
studied plainness lends style; tbe skirt in
box pleats, a ronnd waist with slashed tabs
below tbe belt, as seen iu old pictures, an
easy coat sleeve, longer than usual, a fit
like a riding habit, a jacket of the plainest,
finely finished with red or nasturtium or
bottle-green silk linings showing at waist
collar and tabs, the jacket lined with silk,
has more real style than showier dresses,
and being practically indestructible, it is a
gown for years. It stands any weather, any
amount of cleaning, and the sleeves don't
wear ont in a season at the drawing board or
desk. The bonnet or hat may be of cor
duroy, or better, straw or felt the same
color, trimmed with ribbon loops and quill
feathers, a facing of velvet under the brim.
OWE MART'S STBEET COSTUME.
In serge-like materials, the India twill,
smoother than camel's hair, wears like the
old Thibet ingood qualities. Make it with
plain skirt, trimmed by bows of ribbon vel
vet above the hem, or run the front widths
in lengthwise "accordion tucks," which
look like the aecordion pleating, but wear
so much better. A coat polonaise faced
with silk, having directoire front is the ap
propriate thing with this skirt, and where
judioious cost is an object, dispense with
trimmings, have all pleats pressed carefully
and tacked to linings, to keep in place, use
handsome buttons and silk linings, desira
ble for warmth as well as elegance, and put
the money into pretty plastoous, cravats and
kerchiefs to wear with the dress. Mary An
derson wears very plain gowns, however ex-
pensive, for the street or carriage, hut has
charming cravats and lingerie for the throat,
stylish gloves and hat, instead of overloaded
trimming, which always looks, third rate
on an outdoor dress.
To freshen a passee silk take spots out
with ether, press with hot irons, with thin
wool veiling above tbe silk, make a plain
skirt with tront widths fitted to the hips and
run strips of ribbon velvet in different
widths down these fronts. Two inch, inch
and half-inch velvets are very well used in
this way, with the effect of graduated
stripes. To keep silks from "cutting out"
and wearing on the hips, interline with the
thinnest layer of wadding tacked to the
skirt lining, for which black linen lawn at
25 cents a yard is a good thing. Make the
under part of sleeves, tbe elbows and waist
under tbe arms of the dress material double,
to prevent wearing out and to give ease in
mending. There are but two shapes of bon
nets worth considering, the toque for
piquante, or regular features, and the poke,
with broad flat brim in front rounding to
the crown alone behind, for passee or prom
inent laces. Straw will be worn late this
year, silk, mixed with velvet and fine jet
aigrettes, forming a distinguished trim
ming. In buying feathers, get the .French
ostrich plumes, which keep in curl much
longer than the ordinary ones,'' and are said
to resist even seaside damp.
Shiblet Dabe.
SIXTY-DOLLAR POSTAGE STAMPS.
They Are Used on Second. Clan Matter nnd
tbe Pnbllc Never Sees Them.
Boston Herald.j
"How is the postage on second-class mat
ter paid?" is a question often asked at the
Boston postoffice. The rate of postage is 1
cent a pound; but, as observation teaches
that second-class matter is not stamped, the
query is naturally raised as to how the post
age on this class of matter is treated. The
pnblio never see stamp used for the pay
ment of second-class postage, except as a
curiosity in the collection ot a philatelist
Unlike all other kinds of postage stamps
they never reach the public through the
postoffice. They are not so rare, however,
among collectors as to bring very high
premiums. The smaller denomination are
in good demand, and are sold for sums con
siderably in advance of their face value, but
the higher denominations cannot be dis
posed of at par.
It is customary for a publisher whose
journal or periodical is entered as second
class matter to keep on deposit at the post
office a sum sufficient to cover the immediate
expense of mailing. If he mails 1,000
ponnds of matter he is given a receipt for
that amount, and on a stub from which the
receipt is torn is placed $10 in postage
stamps. The form of stub and receipt book
used is uniform throughout the country,
and at the end of each quarter all the stubs
are forwarded to Washington. The canceled
stamps on the stubs represent the revenue
received on second-class matter for the par
ticular quarter which they cover. It is not
required that a publisher shall keep a de
posit at the postoffice, but experience teaches
that it is the wisest plan to follow. News
paper and periodical postage stamps are tbe
most numerous and run the highest in de
nomination of any species of postage stamps
issued by the Government. The lowest de
nomination is 1 cent and the highest 60.
The full list is as follows: 1, 2, 4, 6, 8,
10, 12, 24, 36, 48, 60, 72, 84 and 96 in cents;
in dollars, 51 92, ?3, 56, 59, 512, 524,536, f48
and 60. Of this class of stamps there was
used at the Boston postoffice for the last
fiscal year 5101,401 73, representing 10,140,
173 pounds of second-class matter mailed.
The prevailing colors of these stamps are
shades of red and green the Postoffice De
partment seems very partial to green
varying according to denomination, and
each bearing in its .center the figure of a
beautiful and scantily attired female.
A FOUR-YEAR-OLD FORGER.
A Smart Chicago Youngster Acts as Hli
Blothcr's Amanaonsls.
Chicago Hernia.:
Sometimes children are wise beyond their
years. Up on one of the Southside avenues
is a lady who is the mother of a bright
youngster aged i years. This youngster of
hers has annoyed her greatly by running
away dnring the day to the house of a
neighbor, abont a block away, and hiding
himself there until some one is sent after
him. Bather than be annoyed in hunting
after him, his mother called on the lady
who owned the children in the next block,
and came to an understanding with her.
"When I am willing that Georgie should
call on your children," she said, "I will
write a note to that effect and pin it on his
arm. In the note I will state what time I
want him sent home, and you can act ac
cordingly." Well, the other lady agreed to this plan.
A day or so later the youngster appeared at
her house with a note pinned on his arm.
She thousrht it was nil right, and she al
lowed him to play with her children until
she thought it time to look and see when
he was to be sent home. When she un
folded the paper she saw nothing bnt a lot
of scribbling, and she asked the youngster
what it meant.
"Well." he said, "my mamma was
asleep when I wanted to come up here, so I
wrote the note myself."
The lady was dumfounded. The wise
youngster had seen his mother write the
notes which gave him his freedom, so he
thought, as she was asleep when he wanted
to go, that he might as well write a note
himself rather than disturb her. That boy
will never get left.
Coitly Accommodation.
Witty Mulvin I've made a bet with my
friend here, sir. He says a man can't look
right straight up in the air for one minute
without gettin' dizzv, and I say he can.
Which is right?
Mr. Cornstack You be, of course, an' I'll
prove it fer ye.
"Witty Mulvin Thanks. Puck.
41 ) '
A FATAL IGNOEMGE.
Why the Despised Pnblicaa Was Pre
' ferred to the Pharisee.
SELF-EIGHTEOUSKESS A FOLLT.
The Sin of Social, Intellectual and
ligions Contempt.
Ee-
mufos
COURTESI co:
TO ALL CLASSES
rwarrrJOT tob the dispatch.
What was The trouble with that honest
and religious' citizen ot Jerusalem wbo
went up into the temple in company with a
publican, to pray, and only succeeded in
making a bad matter worse? The Pharisee
in that significant parable was apparently a
model of all the virtues. He was an honor
able and square-dealing merchant, he was
an exemplary citizen, and neighbor, And
husband, and father; he was not as other
men were in-those evil days, 'extortioners,
unjust, adulterers." More than that, he
was a deacon in the Jerusalem Church, or a
class leader, or avestryman, or an elder, or
whatever corresponded to these honorable
offices,- he sat in the front seat in the syna
gogue; he was the strictest of the strict in
observance or the requirements ot religion,
fasting twice 'a week. And he was
religiously generous. A tenth part of his
income he distributed among the poor.
And yet as he prayed in the temple, and
beside him stood a publican praying also,
and not far away beholding was Christ, the
Master, the Man-who knew God and men,
somehow the impartial Master, who cared
little for the common judgment and was not
swayed by the popular likes and dislikes
somehow he pre erred the publican. Ana
this Pharisee, He said, who was accounted
both by bis neighbors and by himself to be
abiding in the full light of the approving
benediction or Uod, was not approved by
God at all. God liked that foreign hireling
and traitor, that mean, mercenary, grasping
tax collector, better. This fellow from the
lowest class of Jerusalem society, whom
everybody hated, and for whom everybody
had a bad name, stood somehow a great deal
higher in the esteem of God than this prom
inent citizen and churchman, this popular
and courtly gentleman, whom everybody
liked and about whom nobody could say
anything quite good enough.
AN mTEEESTINO STUDT.
That is a condition of things so peculiar
that it attracts one to study it out. And, as
the case is one which presents possible
analogies in the lives of all good, reputable
people to-day, we study it with so much the
more interest and care. Any of us may
stand in the position of the Pharisee. What,
then, we ask- with some anxiety, was the
matter with the Pharisee? Wny did he
fail?
He failed, our Lord tells us, for a reason
or combination of reasons which He puts
into a single sentence: .Because he "trusted
in himself that he was righteous, and de
spised others."
There were two kinds of people of whom
Christ seems to have especially disapproved.
They were those wh trusted in themselves
that they were righteous, and those who de-
spised others. The two disastrous character
istics very often go together. They did in
the case of this Pharisee. If you want two
words which convey the essential meaning
of these Jwo causes of the Pharisee's failure,
here they are content and contempt. This
estimable citizen and church member made
tbe lailure of failures because of his content
with himself, and his contempt for other
people.
Because content means a fatal kind of
ignorance. Whoever trusts in himself that
he is righteous is almost sure to be ignorant;
to be ignorant, for one thing, of himself.
Either he does notknow what sin it, or does
not recognize sin when he sees it. And so he
is like the man in the old story which people
used to tell each other in the Middle Ages,
who came one day- to his confessor, nnd,
having rehearsed quite a number of trifling
peccadilloes, said at last that there was one
sin so grievous that he hardly dared utter it.
He was very sure that God would never for
give him. But the priest persuaded him,
and at last he confessed, with hesitation and
tears, that one Friday his wife was making
cheese, and she asked him to taste it that
she might know whether it was salt or fresh,
and, as he did so, by some fatal misadven
ture some o f it went do wn his throat. So he
had eaten cheese on Friday.
A 2TEIGHBOBLT ACTIOIT.
Then the priest said: "See here, my son,
I learn that there have lately been a good
many robberies in the neighborhood of your
house; merchants passing through the forest
have been waylaid, and, m several instances,
killed. Do you know nothing of these
things?" "Oh, yes," the penitent answered.
"I had something to do witn those hanoenincs
of which you speak. I believe that I even
killed one man." "But why,.tben didn't
you confess that?" "Why, that was only
neighborly kindness. My neighbors were
out on a robbing expedition and they wanted
me to co with them,and I went. Was there
anything wrong abont that?" Some men, I
am afraid, don't know sin when they see it.
They have a conscience of so singularly
combined a strictness and looseness, so un
yielding and yet elastic, that it will strain
at a gnat and yet make but one bite of a
camel.
Or else, content means ignorance not so
much of sin as of self. The heart is like a
darkened room; The dust may be an inch
deep and everything between the four cor
ners may be turned up-side-down, but in the
darkness no disorder is visible. Open the
shutters. Whoever trusts in himself that he
is righteous is most likely making a large
mistake. He has no light. He can't see.
This testimony is borne by all the annals of
sanctity that fn proportion as men get into
the light of the love and knowledge of God
they find more in their own lives to be sorry
about.
And content means, also, another kind of
ignorance. It means ignorance not only of
self but of opportunity. Whoever trusts in
himself that he is righteous is pretty surely
overlooking the positive side of duty. In
the days of'tbe Albigensian crusade a man
who was falsely accused of heresy cleared
himself by an appeal to his manner of life.
It was well known what strict lives tbe
heretics lived. "lam no heretic," pleaded
the man, "I eat and drinlc whatever I please
and as much as I please, and I lie and steal
and swear and am a good Christian 1" That
would hardly pass to-day as an accurate
description of a good Christian. But there
is no lack of people who say : "I do not lie,
nor steal, nor swear, nor do this nor that,
and therefore I am a godd Christian!" Wait
a little my friend.
"WHAT GOOD DO YOTJ DO?
What truth do you speak which men need
to know? What help do you give-of which
men stand in need? What are you doing
with yonr time and your means and your
strength?
How are you employing opportunity? I
don't believe that God at the last will ask
so very much about the bad things we have
done. It will be upon the good things left
undone that tbe emphasis will be put in
that day of judgment. We will be meas-J
urea Dy our misspent opportunities. And
I have never yet found anybody so good as
to be able to say with any show of truth
that be bad made the very most Of oppor
tunity. And, then, content means ignorance nob
only with ones self, and 'of the significance
of opportunity, but at this day, with tbe
advantages which we have, it means ignor
ance ot the ideal which God has set for
man's following. Eead the storv in the
Gospels of the ideal Hie. Loos at your own
life in the light of that, and then let him who
can trust in himself that he is righteous.
And content, beside meaning Ignorance,
means spiritual stagnation. Everybody
will remember the story of Thorwaldsen,
how when at last he had carved a
statue of surpassing beauty, he cast his
chisel down, audjteara were in his eyes,
-.A.-5
beHM&ewwMiMl. He w mfcwttjn
with at stated ji it kswIisttM
contest was a sigm ef the ead. W, isteftnt
that he had gese aafertahkartaflfce eeH
go. It meant (fee end ef TberwaMav Ee
oause content carries with it Mm of
endeavor, aad waea eadeavor steps growth
stops, and the ead of growth k the ead of
life.
Eren to as, with oar impsrfeet aad ak
takea vision, the paWieaa was Mm more
hopeful man of the two. There was sees
chance of improvement la him. He had at
least made that beginning whiefc k jartae
much needed for progress is ipirrtealaa is
nataral knowledge the confession of
ignoraBee aad. need. The Pharisee ksew it
ail. .Nebedy could teach hiss. Tht h a
type of man which we all reeogake aad de
test To be receptive, to be desirew of
knowing and growing, is essential if ose
would increase in the favor of God. Thai
spirit was 'wholly lacking is the Pharisee.
CONTEMPT 70S OTHEBS. (
The second cause of the Pharisee's feSwe
was his contempt for others. Hethasked
God that it had mereifnlly pleased Hia te
divide men into two classes, and to pat Wet
'. 5C--
all by himself into class one, aad te rele-,
gate all "other men" in one commas orewd" 1
to class two. "God, I thank Thee that W '
am not as other men are." That k as us-' 4 I
Christian as anything can-be. Christ oaaw
to drive contempt oat of thkwerid aadte
bring brotherly love in. If yea will reeaX
His sayings, you will remember hew ess-
phatically he reprobates jastthk spirit of
unbrctherly despisiBg, aad hew earnestly
He exhorts to mutual charity, aad rever
ence. We may not call our brother a feel,
and think to please Christ.
And, besides that, contempt k so assare
unreasonable in most eases. It has se little
to stand upon. Indeed, it is preseat fer Mm
most part in the .temper of the very BeepJe
who have the least reason to trust "is them
selves that tbey are anvthing. The great
people who know soBsething worth kaowiog,
and are what is worth being, have net this
spirit. Hen who have any real wisdom are
wise enough to see the loolkhnem of con
tempt. Take intellectual contempt, the spirit
which says "I am wiser than Mtesi" Why,
the most learned of scholars has no mo
nopoly of knowledge. A good many other
humbler folk know things of which he is
quite ignorant. A man wrote a great book
once in Xatln aad entitled it "De Omnibus
Bebus," "Concerning All Thiaes," and
then he added as a sab-title, "Si Ceteris
Xebus,' "And a Few Other Thiags." Bat
even that book did not contain quKe all Mm
desirable and knowable iaferawtMaia the
world. Every man you see, kaews Ken the
you do about something. I sappooB'rtt
might be possible to discover' astMf.MM
readers of this paper perhaps 4,WJw
tnav ATM lfy thunTdn flfeoat tk mmotL
arities of the heresy of the BogoaWeatr.' -But
everyone of the 40,060 kaews vastly
more than I do about 20 sahjeets better
worth knowing.
Take also the case of social eeatesapt,
the spirit which says "X am peMter taan
thou," this spirit represents Mm 'asChrk
tian element in our society. It pats barriers
between "classes." It carries with it the
HEATHES NOTIOK 01 CASK. '
Now, I am sufficiently far frost believia
that everybody can be perfectly eoageaku
with everybody else. Even ia Oar Father's
house are "many mansions," and tbatseeess
to mean that even in heaven we will act he
on exactly the same familiar and loving
terms with everybody. Human aatare
separates us into little circles united by Mm'
bondofmutaal admiration. We are. made
that way. Even.Christ liked some of the 13
Apostles better .than others. The feet of
His selecting.13 friends to be closer to -Him.
than any other is suggestive ia itself.
Nevertheless there is a Christian courtesy
and kindness which, fully recognizing dif
ferences, knows no contempt at all. why,
the essence ot good manners if we are to
be made to divide society there is simply
consideration and thoughtfulness for others.
And I have yet to learn that any "class" in
society has any monopoly of consideration
and courtesy. Whoever fails in theaght
fnlness and consideration for the feelings of
a bootblack or of the humblest household
servant, betrays vulgaritri' That k.-sekl
pnansaisai. . i- .a
Then there is religions cosWpTie!,i
. ; - t , .... ,
Ah, but are you? That was' what. Aa
Pharisee thought..
The beginning of all religion k the con
viction of sin. Behind the Pharisee's cos
tent and contempt lay this lack which ex
plains both, he was unconvinced of sin.
Whoever is convinced of sin knows.'no
false content. He keeps oa striving and.
growing. Whoever is convinced of sia
knows no unchristian contempt. It is'Mte
people who have big splinters is their own
eyes who are forever discoviag small specks
of dust in other people's eyes. The begin
ning of self-knowledge is the beginning of
charity always. Whoever k convinced of
sin loves Christ. "Without that it is im
possible fully to love Him. He knows '
Christ, not only as the ideal of the best
being, but as the Savior from sin. The
cross of Christ means something to him.
And so nobody who k unaware of sin really
knows very ranch about the Christian re
ligion. To be convinced of sin is to begin
to gain the benediction with which the Mas
ter ended the parable of the Pharisee 'aad
the Publican: "He that humbleth himself
shall be exalted." Geobge Hodgbs..
a
K0T GHOSTS BUT MOLES.
i-:
How a Kestacky Hosse Got the Name of
Betas" Haunted.
This is rather a novel deaouemeat.fbra
ghost story. The Maysville' Beraldt says:
"Some weeks ago the herald contained an
account of a mysterious noise that was
heard at a house near Leonville, Calloway
county. Alter several weeks of patient
investigation, it has been found that the
noise was caused by moles, with which' the
earth nnder the house was literally honey
combed. A lew hogrs' digging revealed
the mystery and the sensation k exploded."
Dentist's advertisement in a Beading
daily: Teeth filled and extracted without pain
by the use of vitalized air, ana made -.fresh
every day and perfectly harmless.
Save Tour Hair
BY a timely use of Ayert Hair Vigor.
This preparation has no equal as a
dressing. It keeps the scalp clean, cool,
and healthy, and preserves the color,
fullness, and beauty of the hair.
"I was rapidly becoming bald andf
gray; but after using two or three)
bottles of Ayer's Hair Vigor my hair'
grew thick and glossy and the original
color was restored." Melvin Aldrich,
Canaan Centre, N. H.
" Some time ago I lost all my hair la
consequence of mealies. After due
waiting, no new growth appeared. I
then used Ayer's Hair Vigor and ay
hair grew
Thick and Strong.
It has apparently come to stay. Tie
Vigor is evidently a great aid to nature."
J. B. Williams, Floresville, Texas.
"I have used Ayer's Hair Vigor tot
the past four or five years and find it a
most satisfactory dressing for the hair.
It k all I could desire, being harmless,
causing the hair to retain its natural
color, and requiring but a small quantity
to render the hair easy to arrange.
Mrs. M. A. Bailey, 9 Charles street,
Haverhill, Mass.
" I have been using Ayer's Hair Vigor
for several years, and believe that K, nas
caused ray hair to retain its n,atnrj"
color." Mrs-H. J. King, Dealer in
Dry Goods, &c, BishopvUle, Md.
Ayer's Hair Vigor,
Dr. J. C. Ayer & Co., Lowell, Mat
Sold by UraiU tod PerfaiBHS. -
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