-" ' -. v -SF iff rvJTy' v -; ? " - wp Krar -jwv aSvT!nr , jp -- - "'W 4 v yrrgsi&iffi.
16
THE PrTTSBTJEG- DISPATCH, SUNDAY, VJU"LY 26,; 1891.
-. f.r, -.r - -w
Allaire had been enriched by the death of
her uncle, Edward Manson, and that she
was now in a position to help them. And
yet neither one of them had made any at
i tempt to open correspondence with Molly,
although their situation could not be other
wise than precarious.
January, February, March had gone by,
and it began to look as if 1SS2 would slip
away without bringing about any change in
the situation, when something happened
which really seemed likely to throw light
upon the mysterious disappearance of the
clipper ship. On 'March 27 the steamer
Golden Gate, on which Zach 'French had
shipped as common seaman, entered the bay
of San Francisco after a cruise of set eral
Tears in European waters. The moment
Mrs. Allaire heard of this arrival, she wrote
to Zach French, who had been promoted to
VootEfvnin, requesting him to call upon her
at San Diego. As French was contemplat
ing a trip to his native town for the purpose
of enjoying a few months' rest, he replied
that he would start for San Diego as soon as
he could procure leave and would, upon
reaching that city, at once present himself
at Prospect Cottage, It would possibly be
a matter of several days.
In the meantime a rumor became current,
which, should it meet with confirmation,
was qualified to create a sensation through
out the length and breadth of the land. It
was alleged that the Golden Gate had picked
up a bit of wreck which in all likelihood
belonged to the ill-fated Dreadnaught A
Ban Francisco paper reported that the
Golden Gate had come upon this fragment
to the north of Australia in latitudes lying
between the Timor Sea and the Sea of
Arafoura off the island of Melville to the
"west of Torres Strait.
The moment this news had been received
at San Diego Mr. Hollister and Captain
Willis, whom it had reached by telegraph,
hastened to Prospect Cottasre. At the first
mention ol the subject Mrs. Allaire turned
very pale, but she recovered herself in a
Moment.
".Now that we have come upon this
trace," she cried out in a tone oi absolute
conviction, "we shall find the Dreadnaught
and ufter the ship has been found we shall
find John and his companions."
The truth is, the finding Of this bit of the
wreck was a matter of great importance.
It was the first time that a fragment of the
lost vessel had come to light. Now, when
Mrs. AlLiire betook hersell to the region in
which the disaster had been located, she
would have in her possession a ring of that
chain which held the past bound to the
Jjretent
A map of Oceanica was at once sent for,
and Mr. Hollisier and Captain "Willis were
requested to enter upon the consideration of
a new route to be followed by the Molly's
Hope on her next cruise.
"Then you incline to think, Captain,"
wid Mr. Hollister, "that the Dreadnaught
.did not eudcavor to reach Singapore by
crossing the Philippines and Malaysia?"
"I do," replied Willis, "to my mind, it's
improbable; yes, impossible."
"But assuming that she did take that
route," pursued Hollister, "how comes it
that this piece of the wreck should have
been found in the Arafoura Sea, to the north
of Melville Island?"
"I can't understand it. I can't explain
it," answered Willis. "All that I can say
is that the Dreadnaught was seen off the
southwest coast of Celebes Island after sne
had passed the Strait of Macassar. Now, if
the enteied this strait she did so from the
north and not from the east, and hence
could not hae come in through Torres
totraif
This question was discussed at consider
able length, and it ended in the acceptance
of Captain Willis views.
Mrs. Allaire had listened in silence to
this discussion; but her knitted brows in
dicated with what tenacity, what persist
ency she clung to her belief tnat John and
Ir.s companions were still among the living.
3o; she was determined to stand steadfast
Until actual proofs of their death should be
furnished her.
"I agree w ith you, my dear Willis, " cried
Andrew Hollister, "th'at the Dreadnaught
on her way to Singapore crossed the Java
Bea."
"Part of the way at least, Mr. Hollister,
for it was betw cen Singapore and Celebes
Island that the vessel was wrecked."
"That's so, but still how was it possible
for this piece ot the wreck to drift as far as
the Australian coast if the Dreadnaught
went to pieces on some reef in the Java
Bea?"
"There is only way to explain it," re
plied Captain Willis, "and that is by as
suming that this fragment of the ship was
draV n thromrh Lambock or some other one
of the straits which connect the waters
north of these islands with the Timor and
Arafoura seas. "
"Do the currents Eet in that way?"
"Y"e, Mr. Hollister, and I would go so
far as to sa that the Dreadnaught after
having been dismantled in a tornado may
have been sucked into one of the straitsand
J3naJ.lv been cast on some reef north of the
Australian coast."
"You're right, my dear Willis," cried
Andrew Hollister, "it's the only reasona
ble hypothesis and the conclusion is irre
sistible that if a fragment of the wreck has
been piektd up to the north of Melville
Island six years after the disaster it must
Iiave been recently detached from the reefs
en which the clipper ship went to pieces."
This explanation was qualified to carry
conviction to the mind of any intelligent
teaman.
"Since it is more than likely," added
Mrs. Allaire, whose gaze still remained riv
eted upon the map unrolled before her,
"that the Dreadnaught was driven ashore
en the coast of Australia, and since none of
the shipwrecked crew have made their ap
pearance here or elsewhere, it follows that
they are held prisoners "
"That is not impossible Molly," Inter
rupted Mr. Hollister.
Mrs. Allaire was upon the point of pro
tesujg vigorously against the implication
contained in his answer when Captain
Willi': broke in with:
"We hae yet to determine that this frag
ment of wreck picked up by the Golden
Gate really belongs to Captain John's
ihip."
"Have yon anv doubt of it?" inquired
Molly.
"We shall soon be able to solve that
question," cried the merchant, "for I have
crdered the fragment to be for aided to
ts."
"And I have given orders," added Mrs.
Allaire, "that the Molly's Hope be kept in
readiness to sail at any moment."
Three days after this conversation Zach
Trench, the boatswain, reached San Diego
tnd presented himself at Prospect Cottage.
"Thirty-seven years of age, strongly built,
with a face browned by exposure and eyes
fall of determination, this man had some
thing frank and pleasing about him. You
felt that he belonged to the kind that never
shrinks back or hesitates, but goes straight
to the place where he is told to go. The w el
come that he received from Sirs. Allaire
vai so full of gratitude that the honest
tailor quite lost the use of his tongue.
"My friend," she exclaimed, after her
feelings had somewhat quieted,down, "it
was you w ho saved my life, you who did all
In your power to save my poor babe, what
can I do tor you?"
French insisted that he had onlv done his
duty. A sailor Mho wouldn't do what he
had done would be no sailor at all he'd be
t mere hireling. His only regret had been
that he was not able to save her child. But
he couldn't accept anything from her for
what he had done. He thanked her for her
kind wishes, and with her permission he
vould call to see her while he was ashore.
"I've been looking forward to seeing you
for a number of years, Zach," said Mrs. Al
laire, "and I hope that you'll be with me
the day Captain Allaire returns "
"The day Captain Allaire returns?"
"Zich,can you bring yourself to think "
"That Captain John has perished? Not
by any means 1" cried the boatswain.
"Then you ha e hope "
"More than hope, Mrs. Allaire 1 I have
a firm and solid conviction. Would a cap
tain like your husband permit himself to be
whisked .'ay on the skirts of a gale? Not
he! Such a thing n as never knoun!"
The sailor's words and the manner in
Mbich they had been spoken sent a thrill
through Molly's heart. It was subh a com
fort to know that she would no longer be
the onlyoneto think that Captain John was
not lost and that this other person was one
to whom she herself owed ner life. She
saw something providential in all this.
"Thanks. Many thanks, Zach; you little
know how happy you make me. "Tell me,
oh, tell me again that you believe that
Captain John was not lost in this wreck."
"Yes, Mrs. Allaire, yes, and the proof
that he is still alive is that he will be found
some day or other, and if that's not a
proof "
Hereupon Zach French entered into a
number of details with regard to the find
ing of the fragment of wreck by the Golden
Gate. As he concluded Mrs. Allaire said:
"Zach, I'm resolved to institute a new
search at once"
"Good! It will succeed this time, and if
you'll allow me, madam, I'll take part
in it.1
"You will ship under Captain Willis?"
"Xr.at I will, madam."
"Oh, thanks, Zach. With yon on board
the Molly's Hope it will seem to me like
one more chance in my favor."
"I believe it Mrs. "Allaire," replied the
boatswain, with a kindly light beaming
from his honest eyes. "I'm ready to sail any
moment!"
Molly had taken hold of the sailor's hand.
She felt that it belonged to a true friend of
hers. Her leelimjs got the better of her and
she was now convinced that the boatswain
was destined to succeed where others had
failed.
However, although Molly had no doubts
on the subjeot, yet, as Captain Willis had
suggested, it now became necessary to de
termine positively whether the fragment of
wreck picked up by the Golden Gate had
really belonged to the Dreadnaught. This
piece of the wreck had been forwarded to
Hollister & Co. by express from San Fran
cisco and been sent to the superintendent of
the shipyard, by whom it had been sub
mitted to the examination of the builders
and their foremen.
The fragment of wreck which had been
picked up by the Golden Gate off Melville
Island about ten miles out from shore was a
piece of a ship's stem, or rather of that
carved cutwater which is commonly attached
to the prow of sailins vessels. This piece
of wood hai undergone considerable change
of texture, not from lying in the water for a
long while, but from exposure to the in
clemency of the weather. Hence the con
clusion that it must have remained for a
long time on this reef on which the clipper
ship had struck, then in some way or other
been detatched, possibly by the "action of a
strong current, and tossed about in the
water for several months or possibly weeks,
when it was picked up by the Golden Gate.
But did it come from Captain John's vessel?
Yes, for the carving on this piece of wood
matched that which had ornamented the
prow of the Dreadnaueht This was the
conclusion reached by the builders at San
Diego. The teakwood, for such was the
fragment, was positively recognized as
identical with the stock in hand. They
even discovered the mark of the iron brace
which clamped the cutwater to the ship's
prow, and also the remnants of a coat of red
paint with tracery of foliage in gold line.
Therefore, the fragment of wreck picked
up by the Golden Gate once belonged to the
good ship Dreadnaught; of this there was
absolutely no doubt This point established,
it became quite possible to accept Captain
Willis' theory that since the Dreadnaught
had been signaled in the Java Sea to the
southeast of Celebes Island, she must have
been, a few days later, carried through
Lombock or some other passage opening
into tne Timor or Arafoura Sea and hurled
upon the reefs oi the Australian coast. And
hence it was perfectly reasonable and justi
fiable to send a craft to explore the waters
lying between the Sunda islands and the
north coast of Australia. But would this
expedition succeed any better than the one
which had included the Philippines, the
Celebes and the Moluccas? Yes, the pros
pect was brighter.
This time Mrs. Allaire was quite deter
mined to accompany the expedition, and it
required the appeal of Andrew Hollister.
Captain Willis and Zach French to dissuade
her from so doing. A cruise of this sort,
which would of a necessity last a long while,
might be hampered by "the presence of a
woman on board.
It need hardly be stated that Zach French
was shipped as boatswain of the Molly s
Hope which was now reported by Captain
Willis as ready to sail.
CHAPTER Xm.
THE MOLiY'S HOPE IJT TEE T1MOK SBJL.
Captain Willis sailed from San Diego at
10 o'clock on the morning of April 3, 1882,
following a southwesterly course, with the
intention of proceeding by as direct a route
as possible to the Torres Strait and so into
Arafoura Sea. The Molly's Hope not hav
ing any reason for touching at the Gilbert
or Salmon Islands, alter an uneventful
voyage of three weeks, sighted first the
high land of the New Guinea coast and
then the most northerly point of Australia
known as Cape York. Torres Strait, lying
between this'point and the New Guinea
coast, enjoys the repute of bei ng an ex
tremely dangerous passage, partly due to
the violent currents w hich set in from east
to west and partly to the shoal water. Only
for a certain part of the day, while the sun
is in such a position as to make the breakers
plainly visible, is it at all sate to venture
into this narrow water lane.
"Was it quite as far up as Melville Island
that the Golden Gate picked up the frag
ment of the wreck?" asked Captain Willis
of Boatswain French.
"Quite," replied Zach.
"It must be five hundred miles beyond
the Strait."
"At least, Captain," replied Zaoh, "and
I can understand your surprise. For know
ing as we do the existence of these strong
westerly currents, it would seem from hav
ing found the piece of wreck off Melville
Island that the Dreadnaught must have
been lost at the entrance to Torres Strait."
"Precisely, Zach. and we would be forced
to conclude that Captain John had made
choice of this dangerous passage to- reach
Singapore. Now, that I never can admit!
Unless something happens to change my
opinion I shall stick to mv belief that he
crossed the Eastern Archipelago, as we did
in our first expedition, for the last time he
was seen was to the south of Celebes Island. "
"And as there is no other conclusion pos
sible for us to reach," remarked the mate,
"it follows that if Captain Allaire entered
Timor Sea he did so through one of the
straits separating the Sunda Islands."
"It can't be otherwise," replied the cap
tain, "and I can't understand how the
Dreadnaught was ever carried toward the
eastward. Now, either he was dismantled
or he was not If he was dismantled he
should have been carried hundreds of miles
to the west of Torres Strait If he was not,
why should he have returned toward this
strait, when Singapore, his port of destina
tion, lay in the opposite direction?"
"I don't know what to think," answered
the mate. "If the piece ot w reck had been
found in the Indian Ocean it might be ex
plained by assuming that the clipper ship
had been wrecked on the Sunda Jjslands or
on the west coast of Australia. "
"While the fact is," replied Captain
Willis, "that the bit of wreck was found as
far up as Melville Island, which would go
to prove that the Dreadnaught had been
lost in Arafoura Sea, near Torres Strait, or
in the strait itself.
" . uc, baiu rrencu, mat mere j
are counter currents along the Australian
T ., l. ft IJ TT. 1. (liL.i .1 I
coast, which may have carried the piece of
wreck along the btrait In that case the
ship may have gone to pieces in the western
portion of Araloura Sea."
"It will come out in good time," answered
Captain "Willis, "meanwhile, let us work
our ship as if the Dreadnaught had gone to
pieces on the reefs of Torres Strait"
"And if we work it well," added Zach,
"we shall find Captain John."
This was the best thing that could be
doneand this was what they did do.
Torres Strait is about 3U miles wide and
warms with reefs and islets, U00 or more,
and most of them on the level with the
water. The natives are very skillful in the
management of their light piragues, and
have no difficulty in crossing from one shore
to another. Therefore, if Captain John
and his companions had taken refuge on one
of these islets it would have been easy
enough for them to reach the Australian
coaBt and then make their way to some lit
tle settlement on the Gulf of Carpentaria
or on the peninsula of Cape York, whence
they would have had no great difficulty in
reaching home. On the other hand, the
moment it was assumed that Captain John
had never entered Torres Strait, then arose
the question of the fragment of the wreck
and how to explain its presence off Mel
ville Island.
Captain Willis ran the Molly's Hope
boldly into this dangerous passage, keeping
close to the Australian coast Upon Hear
ing Murray Island, the approach of a num
ber of dugouts was signaled, but the natives
who manned them, as well as those who
gathered on the shores as the Molly's Hope
steamed along slowly by, contented them
selves with uttering wild war whoops and
urauuismug uieir outue spears.
For a whole month, up to June 10, Willis
and his indefatigable searchers contieued to
ransack the coasts of the islands lying be
tween the Gulf of Carpentaria and New
Guinea. Not a bit or shred of rigging, not
a broken spar or piece of wood was picked
up by Captain Willis to lead him to think
that the Dreadnaught had gone to pieces on
these reefs.
After another month spent in coasting
along from Arnheim Bay to Van Diemen's
Gulf, the Molly's Hope on July 11 sighted
Melville Island. It was ten miles to the
north of this coast that the fragment of the
wrecked Dreadnaught had been picked up.
As it had got no farther than this point, it
became necessary to assume that it had
only been detached from the wreck a short
time prior to the arrival of the Golden
Gate. It was therefore possible that they
were at that moment in close proximity to
the scene of the wreck.
With the coming of November. Willis
asked himself whether he was to consider
that the campaign was at an end, at least so
far as the Australian coast and islands lying
off it were considered. Should he return
home after he had made search among the
Sunda Islands lying in the southern part of
Timor Sea? In plain words, was he consci
ous of having done everything that it was
possible for a man to do? The brave sailor
hesitated to look upon his task as ended
even after he had scoured the Australian
coast. Something happened to rescue him
from this state of indecision.
On the morning of November 4 he was en
gaged in conversation with Zach French
when the boatswain pointed at some object
floating in the water about half a mile from
the steamer. They were neither pieces of
wood, fragments of planking nor trunks of
trees; they were huge bunches of grass, sort
of yellowish gulf w eed torn from the bot
tom of the sea and drifting along the main
laud.
"Well, that's strange!" said French,
"hang me if that grass isn't coming from
the west; yes from the southwest! There
must be a current which is carrying it
toward the strait"
"That's so,." replied Captain Willis, "and
it must be a local current with an easterly
course, unless it be the effect of the tide."
"I don't think so, Captain," answered
French, "for I recollect now that early this
morning I noticed bunches of this grass
drifting in the same direction."
"Zach, are you certain of it?"
"As certain as I am that we shall find
Captain John some day. "
"Well," replied Captain Willis, "if such
a current exists it 'may be that that piece of
the wrecked Dreadnaught came from the
west, loiiowing the Australian coast"
"That's exactly my opinion, Captain."
"Then there Is but one course for us to
take. We must continue our search across
Timor Sea as far as the West Australian
coast."
"I was never more convinced of it, Cap
tain, since, bevond all doubt, there is a
coast current which runs in the direction of
Melville Island. Byassuming that Captain
John -nas lost in Western waters, we have
now an explanation how it was possible that
a piece ot his wreck should have been
picked up where it was. "
Captain Willis sent for his mate and con
sulted with him as to the expediency of
continuing the expedition toward the West
The mate was of the opinion that it now be
came absolutely necessary to do this, at
least until the source of the current had
been reached.
"To the westward, then!" cried Captain
Willis. "We must not go back to San
Diego with possibilities, but with certain
tiesthe certainty that if the Dreadnaught
went to pieces on the Australian coast
there is not a plank or a spar of her left in
existence. "
In consequence of this, under the circum
stances, very justifiable determination, the
moiiy s nope crossea to ximor Island in
order to take on provisions and fill her coal
bunkers, and then, after a stay of 48 hours,
recrossed to Cape Londonderry. Upon
leaving Queen's Channel, Captain Willis
determined to follow as closely as possible
the outline of the Australian coa3t above
Turtle Point At this location the direc
tion of the current toward the east was
very perceptible.
Upon making Cambridge Gulf the waters
of which bathe the foot of Mount Cockburn,
Captain Willis resolved not to risk his ves
sel in this deep funnel bristling with reefs,
so he ordered the steam launch to be low
ered and put it in command of Zach French,
with orders to make a thorough search of
the interior of this gulf.
"Evidently," said Captain Willis to
Zach, "if John Allaire and his crew fell
into the hands of the natives of this coast,
it would be folly to imagine that a single
soul of them is still alive. But what we
are after is to learn whether there are any
remaing of the Dreadnaught in case the
natives should have scuttled the clipper
ship in the Cambridge Gulf."
"It wouldn't surprise me in the least to
find out that the villians had done so," re
plied Zach.
French made the tour of the gulf without
coming upon any trace of the lost ship and
thereupon returned to the steamer.
Captain Willis now weighed anchor
rounded Dussejour Cape, and heading for
tne normwesi aouoiea "jape .Londonderry.
Continuing her now southwesterly course,
tne ivioiiy s nope crossea iiuccaneer Archi
pelago and entered King Sound, and by the
end of January, after a fruitless search in
this long arm of the sea for some trace of
the Dreadnaught, Captain Willis deter
mined to end the expedition at this point,
to wit: at the 18 parallel of south latitude.
Besides the coal supply was running low
and hence it was considered advisable to sail
for Batavia, then, after coaling, to coast
along the Sunda Islands, cross Timor Sea
and so get out into the Pacific once more.
The weather was beautiful ana the sea
like a mirror outside the line of reefs, over
which the swell broke in long lines of snow
white foam as the Molly's Hope stood out
from Cape Leveque and soon left the Aus
tralian coast behind her, growing fainter
and fainter until it had faded to a mere blue
line on the horizon. Everything promised
a favorable cruise across to Java Island.
The fact is the steamer was on her way home,
except that there would be some delays to
enable Captain Willis to examine the
smaller islands of the Sunda group.
Nothing of any importance occurred the
first few days out The greatest vigilanco
was exercised in signaling the location of
those riffs and shoals so common in these
waters, many of which hardly reach to the
surface of the water.
Toward 9 o'clock on the morning of Feb
ruary 7, there was a cry from the lookout:
"lteefs ahead on the portside!"
3b Be Continued Xezt Sunday.
EVEN JEWELS GET TD3ED.
UkeePople They Have to Be Sent Away to
Recuperate Occasionally.
Some discussion has resulted from the
statement that machinery and even metal
gets "tired" and needs a chance to recuper
ate, says a jeweler in the St Louis Oldbe
DemocraU Foolish as the idea seems, it is
undoubtedly true, and it applies just as
forcibly to jewels, which certainly need re
cuperation at times. Any one in the busi
ness will tell you what a heavy loss a man
may incur by jewels in his safe or show-case
going off in'appearance. All the cleaning
in the world won't help them, and all the
time they are getting to look more and more
shabby, until at last they have no salable
value.
If they are sent awav to another city they
frequently brace up of their own accord and
come back looking bright and lustrous.
This may sound incredible, hut inquiry will
prove that what I say is generally known in
the trade.
A TALK ON PORCELAIN.
Bill flye Tells an InquisitiTe Maid of
Massachusetts About
HIS YISIT TO THE FRENCH SHOPS,
A Speech to Students Which Was Hot Yery
Highly Appreciated.
FACTS ABOUT MADAME P0HPAD0UB
rwBrrTKT FOR THE DISPATCH.
Lillian E. D., of Brookline, Mass., writes
as follows: "Could you, in your department
of the paper, tell me something of the loca
tion of the porcelain works In Sevres,
France, and what the process is of making
those beautiful things which come from
there? How is the name of the town pro
nounced? Can you tell me anything of the
history of Madame Pompadour? Who was
the Dauphin? Did you learn anything of
Louis XV. whilst in France? What are
your literary habits?"
Sevres is a small village just outside of
St Cloud, pronounced San Cloo. It is
given up to the manufacturing of por-
The Utile Steamer.
celain. You go to St. Cloud by rail or river
and then drive over to Sevres by diligence
or voiture. Some does one way and some
does the other. I rode up on the Seine,
aboard of a little, noiseless, low-pressure
steamer about the size of a sewing machine.
It was called the Silvoo Play, I think. The
fare -was 30 centimes, or, say-j 3 cents. Af
ter paying my fare, and finding that I still
had money left, I lunched at St Cloud in
the open air at a trifling expense, I then
took a bottle of milk from my pocket and
quenched my thirst Traveling through
France one finds that the water is especially
bad, tasting of the Dauphin at times and
dangerous in the extreme. I advise those
therefore who wish to be well whilst doing
the Continent to carry, especially in France,
as I did, a large thickset bottle of milk or
kumiss with which to take the wire edge off
one's whistle whilst being yanked through
the Louvre.
Surroundings of the Place.
St Cloud is seven miles west of the center
of Paris and most ten miles by rail on the
road to Versailles pronounced Vairsi. St
Cloud belongs to Canton of Sevres and the
arondissement of Versailles. An arondisse
ment is not anything reprehensible. It is
all ngnt xou coma belong to an aron
dissement if you lived in France. St. Cloud
is on a beautiful hill slope, looking down
the valley of the Seine, with Paris in the
distance. It is peaceful and quiet and
beautiful. Everything is peaceful in Paris,
when there is no revolution on the carpet
The steam cars run safely and do not make
so much noise as ours do. The steam
whistle does not have such a hold on neoDle
as it does here. The adjutant general at the
depot blows a little tin bugle, the admiral
of the train returns the salute, the adjutant
general says "Allonsl" and the train starts
off like a somewhat leisurely young man
who is going to the depot to meet his wife's
mother.
One does not realize what a Fourth of
July racket we live in and employ in our
business, Lillian, till he has been the guest
of a monarchy of Europe between whose
toes the timothy and clover have sprung up
to a great height And yet it is a pleasing
change, and I shall be glad when we as a
Republic have passed the blow-hard period,
laid aside the earsliting steam whistle, set
tled down to good, permanent institutions
and take on a restful, sootheful, Boston air
which comes with time and the quiet self
congratulation that one is born in a Bible
land and gospel privileges, and where the
right to worship in a strictly high church
manner is open to all.
The Palace at St Cloud.
The Palace of St Cloud was at ono time
the residence of Napoleon L in summer
time. He used to go out there for the
heated term, and folding his arms across his
stomach have thought after thought regard
ing tne iuture oi trance, iet he very
likely never had an idea that some day it
would be a thrifty republic, engaged in
growing green peas or pulling a soiled dove
out of the Seine now and then to add to the
attractions of her justly celebrated morgue.
t.;d Y"VTTT 1-A nt. .. !. 1
in St. Cloud several summers. He spelled
it "palais,' which shows that he had ery
poor early English advantages, or that he
was, as I have always suspected, a native of
Quebec. Charles X. also changed the bed
ding somewhat, and moved in during his
reign. lie also added a new iron sink and
a place in the barn for washing buggies.
Louis Phillippe spent his summers here for
a number of years, and wrote weekly letters
to the Paris papers, signed "Uno," in
which he urged the taxpayers to show more
veneration lor his royal nibs. Napoleon
IIL occupied the palais in summer during
his lifetime, availing himself finally of the
use of Mr. Bright's justly celebrated dis
ease and dying at the dawn of better insti
tutions tor beautiful, but unhappy, France.
I visited the Palais, which was burned by
the Prussians in 1870. The grounds occupy
9G0 acres, which I offered to buy and fit up,
but probably I did not deal with responsi
ble parties.
San Cloo has a normal school for the
training of male teachers only. I visited
it, but did not make a hit in my address to
the pupils for some cause until I began to
speak in their own national tongue. Then
the closest attention was paid to what I
said, and the keenest delight was manifest
on every radiant face. The President, who
spoke some English, shook hands with me
as we parted, and I asked him how the stu
dents took my remarks. He said:
now They Appreciated His Speech.
"They shall all the time keep the think
ness what you shall call the recollect of
monsieur 8 speech in preserves, so that they
shall forget it not continualle. We shall all
the time say we have not witness something
like it since the time we come here, and
have not so much enjoy ourself since the
grand assassination by the guillotine. Come
next winter and be with us for one week.
Some of us will remain in the hall each
time."
At San Cloo I hired of a quiet young fel
low about 35 years of age, who kept a very
neat livery stable there, a sort of victoria
and a big Percheron horse, with fetlock
whiskers that reminded me of the Suther
land sisters. As I was in no hurry I sat
on an iron settee in the cool court of the
livery stable, and with my arm resting on
the shoulder of the proprietor I spoke of
the crops and asked if generally people
about there regarded the farmer movement
as in any way threatening to the other two
great parties. He did not seem to know.
I watched . the coachman who was to drive
me as hs changed his clothes, so as to give
memy money's worth in grandeur. One
thing I liked about Franca was that
the people were willing, at a slight
advance on the regular price, to treat a very
ordinary man with unusual respeot and
esteem. This surprised and delighted me
beyond measure, and I often told people
there that I did not begretch the additional
expense. The coachman was also hostler,
and when the carriage was ready he changed
his clothes by removing a coarse, gray shirt
or tunic and putting on a long, olive green
coachman's coat, with erect linen collar and
cuffs sewed into the collar and sleeves. He
wore a high hat that was much better than
mine, as is frequently the case with coach
men and their employers. My coachman
gives me his silk hat w'hen he gets through
with it in the spring and fall. So I am bet
ter dressed than I used to be.
A Blue That Couldn't Be Bluer.
But we were going to say a word regard
ing the porcelain works at Sevres. It is a
modern building, and is under the Govern
ment now. The museum is .filled with the
most beautiful china dishes and funnv busi
ness that one could well imagine. Besides,
the pottery ever since its construction has
retained its models, and they, of course, are
worthy of a day's study. The "Sevres
blue" is said to be a little bit bluer than
anything else in the known world except
the man who starts the nonpareil paper in
the pica town.
I was careful not to break any of these
vases and things, and thus endeared myself
to the foreman of the place. All employes
are uniformed and extremely deferential to
recognized ability. Practically, for half a
day I owned the place. A cattle friend of
mine who was looking for a dynasty whose
tail he could twist while in Europe, and
who used often to say over our glass of vin
ordinaire (which I have since learned was
not the be3t brand after all) that nothing
would tickle him more than "to have a lit
tle deal with a crowned head and get him in
the door," accidentally broke a blue crock
out there at Sevres which wouldn't hold
over a gallon, and it took the best part of a
carload of cows to pay for it, he told me.
The process of making the Sevres ware is
not yet published in book form, Lillian,
especially the method of coloring and
enameling. It is a secret possessed by duly
authorized artists. The name of the town is
pronounced Save.
Facts About Madame Pompadour.
Madam Pompadour is said to have been
the natural daughter of a butcher, which I
regard as being more to her own credit than
though she had been an artificial one. Her
name was Jeannie Antoinette Poisson Le
Normant D'Etiotes Marquis De Pompa
dour, and her name is yet used by the
authorities of Versailles as a fire escape, so
I am told. She was the mistress of Louis
XV., who never allowed her to put her
hands in dishwater during the entire time
she visited at his house. D'Etiotes was her
first husband, but she left him for a gay bnt
rather reprehensible life at court, where
she was terribly talked about, though she is
Baid not to have cared a cent. Louis XV.
told her never to worry, for while he had a
nickel she should have a home.
She developed into a marvelous politi
cian, and earlv seeing that the French peo
ple were largely governed by the literary
lights of that time, she began to cultivate
the acquaintance of the magazine writers
and tried to join the authors' club. She
Cbnvereing With the Statts Keeper.
now became prominent by originating a
method of doing up the hair, which has
since become prominent among people
whose hair like my own had not been al
ready "done up." This style of Madam
Pompadour's was at once popular with
young men who ran the throttle of the soda
fountains of the time and is still well
spoken of. A young friend of mine pushed
his hair up from his forehead in that way
once and could not get it down again.
During his funeral his hair, which had Deen
glued down by the undertaker, became sur
prised at something said by the clergyman
and pushed out the end of his casket
Trying to Stand In With the King.
The king tired in a few years of TitHm
Pompadour and wished that he had not en
couraged her to run away from her husband.
She, however, retained her hold upon the
blase andalcoholic monarch by her wonder
ful versatility and genius.
v nen ail ner talents as an artiste and
politician palled upon his old rum soaked
brain, and ennui like a mighty canker ate
away large corners of his moth eaten soul,
sue nuiuu eii, iu tuc giuaining ana sing to
him, "Hard Times, Hard Times, Come
Again No More," meantime accompanying
herself on the harpsichord or the sackbut or
whatever they played in those days. Then
she instituted theatricals, giving with the
aid of the nobility a verv good version of
"Peck's Bad Boy" and ''Lend Me B Cen
times." She finally lost her Influence over Looey
the XV., and as he got to be an old man the
thought suddenly occurred to him to re
form, and so he had Madame Pompadour be
headed at the age of 42 years. This little
story should teach us that no matter how
gifted we are, or how high we may wear our
hair, our ambitions must be tempered by
honor and integrity, also that pnde goeth
before destruction and a haughty spirit be
fore a plunk. k Bill Nye.
DIAMOND LAWS 07 KIHBESLET.
IX
Man ITinda a Gem on the Street
He
Slast Report It at Once.
Hew York Herald.l
A law of exceptional rigor punishes with
great severity illioit diamond buying.known
in the slang of Sonth Africa as L D. B.-ism.
Under this statute the ordinary presump
tion of law in favor of the accused disap
pears and an accused person has to prove
his innocence in the clearest manner in
stead of the accuser having to prove his
guilt Sentences are constantly passed on
persons convicted of this offense ranging
from 5 to 15 years. It must be admitted
that this tremendous law is in thorough con
formity with South African sentiment,
which elevates L D. B.-ism almost to the
level if not above the level of actual homi
cide. If a man, walking in the streets or in the
precincts of Kimberley, were to find a dia
mond and were not immediately to take it
to the Begistrar to restore it to him and to
have the tact of its restoration registered he
would be liable to a punishment of 15 years'
penal servitude. In. order to prevent illicit
traffic the quantities of diamonds produced
by the mines are reported to the detective
department both by the producers and the
exporters.
A Dainty In Madras.
Madras is the only place In the world
where unborn animals are cooked and eaten.
The most delicious curry is made from an
unborn lamb, the mother being killed and
the young extracted. The natives declare
that the meat is" infinitely more tender. I
havo heard some people express repugnance,
but it is the same with a person who has
never eaten a frog.
If HP? fi
va
PUESUING PLEASURE.
Bessie Bramble Pinds a Great Deal of
Trntb. in Pessimism.
7AOTTT OP THE SUMHEli OUTIfiG.
Bambllng Discourse in Which
Bright Quotations Appear.
Borne
SHATTERED .IDOLS OP THE OEEAT
CWBITTE2T rOB THE PISPATCH.J
The philosophers of the school of pessim
ism all endeavor to prove that love is an
illusion and happiness a delusion. The
broken ideals, shattered idols, ruined hopes,
troubles and disappointments of this life go
far to confirm this conclusion in many
minds. "History," says one writer, "is the
best witness to the reasonableness of pessim
ism." From the days of Job down, the
evil and misery and suffering that prevail
in the world form the factors in a problem
that most perplexes mankind. The enjoy
ment of the senses, the continuance of hap
piness, an immunity from suffering, fill
their idea of a state that is never to be
reached in this world.
People who are poor imagine that wealth
gives everything, but those who live in
palaces and fare sumptuously every day
know what trouble and suffering are, as well
as paupers. Victoria, though occupying
the highest throne In Europe with the
wealth of England and the Indies to draw
from to keep her comfortable, has had
enough trouble to convert her to the belief
of the Grecian philosopher that fate has
power to break up the fondest hopes, and
intercept the richest blessings.
Examples Among the Nobility.
Not all the wealth of Russia and absolute
power of sovereignty can make for Alexander
a bed of roses, or grant to him a night of
sweet repose. Nor can her proud position
give to Dagmar, the Czarina, relief from
constant anxiety and fear of misfortune
close at hand. Poor Elizabeth, of Austria,
breaking down with grief over the awful
death of her son and her domestic infelici
ties, and Empress Frederic, whose marriage
to a noble man had given her all the joys of
love, and who, on the edge of her ambitious
hopes, lost all by the death of her husband
by malignant disease, have certainly reason
iu &uuw mat ujgu pusiuun, weaun ail mat
the world deems good are, as ecclesiastes
puts it, "of no profit under the sun" in the
face of calamity.
Who that contemplates the life of Lin
coln, whose youth was given to unrelenting
toil, whose manhood was marked by domes
tic sorrow, whose years in the high position
he attained, were made joyless by the
griefs and distresses of the Civil War, can
fail to feel and understand the spirit of his
favorite poem: "Oh, why should the "spirit
of mortal be proud?" Writers tell us that
Henry Clav died of a broken heart caused
by disappointment and defeat. Daniel
Webster's last years were darkened by the
"discord between his aspirations and facts"
and his humiliations at the hands of his
friends. Boscoe Conkling's proud spirit
was humbled to the dust by the ingratitude
of those he had trusted. Blaine with all
his brilliant talents has never "got there,"
and now, with shattered health probably
realizes that
The world can never giro
The bliss for which he slgha.
while Harrison prondly
Seated in the White House,
the representative of the greatest nation In
the world does not find the unclouded hap
piness his heart desires, and doubtless feels
the spirit of the old verse of Isaac Watts:
Oh, could we make our doubts remove.
xnese gloomy uoudcs tnat rise,
And see the Canian that we lova
With nnbeclouded ejesl
Then poor Mrs. Harrison, with all her
honors, has her trouble with the bores, her
miseries over the papers, and that crowning
sorrow of only six bedrooms in the White
House, and the doubt of not having them
very much longer, if the Kepublicans
should take a notion to nominate Blaine or
McKinley, or an unexpected tidal wave of
Democracy should plunge the administra
tion into dark despair.
High and low, rich and poor, young and
old are compelled to realize " sooner or
later that "man was made to mourn."
Youth is filled with the loveliest visions of
the future. The ships are to come in laden
with every plcasuro and delight But chil
dren have their sorrows, defeats and ruined
hopes, and feel them as keenly perhaps as
do their elders. Stories come through the
papers every now and then of children com
mitting suicide because of failure in their
studies, of despair over some deeply felt
trouble, or some over-mastering terror. The
records of the times turn with suicides from
disappointed love committed by those who,
to all appearance, had all the world before
them.
What the Young Expect
But the young are in the main full of
hope. Whatever of hardness and darkness
the present gives, they are persuaded and
taught that bliss is to be found in the
future. This is a readine aee. and
the novels which assume to give pictures of
life aro the mental food of young readers.
The girls find the lesson in these that as
soon as they meet their hero, and courtship
is followed by marriage they will realize
the happiness of which thev have dreamed
so long. But they soon una that happiness
is as intangible in that state as any other.
The lesson for the boys is that they must
make love, and be liable to fits of distrac
tion and jealousy, and withal, make money.
To become a millionaire is to reach the
summit where they can enjoy life and get
all the good there is in it But
millionaires ore no more happy than
other men. Cutting coupons and
drawing dividends seem to be a most
fascinating and delightful occupation to the
men who are struggling with small salaries
and big families, but they do not protect
men from Bright's disease, or gout from
erring wives, dissipated sons, or the insecu
rities of life.
The exaggerations of romance do much
toward making the life of reality a state of
discontentment to the young. Would it
not be b tter to teach them on the plan of
Dr. Johnson who says: "So large a part of
human life passes in a state contrary to our
natural desires, tnat one oi tne principal
topics of moral instruction is the hearing of
calamities; and Buch is the certainty of evil
that it is the duty of every man to furnish
the mind with such principles as will en
able him to bear it with decency and pro
priety." The Kegolatlon Orthodox Teachings.
But with ail the evil in life it is aduty.say
the preachers, to think upon your mercies;
to reflect that, as Adam sinned, all are
under condemnation and deserve worse than
they get; to remember that whatever there
is to bear might be worse. They fail to tell
us that, owing to sin, this world is a wilder
ness of woe, a vale of tears, "a fleeting show
for man's illusion given," a state of proba
tion in which all the evils and miseries are
ordained for man's ultimate good, to make
him humble, preserve him from vain glory,
and teach him "to put no trust in any
worldly thing," but prepare himself for
"the land of pure delight'
This is regular orthodox teaching, butthe
idea is creeping into many people's minds
that this is the best world anybody knows
anything about, and that anyhow, as the
mass of mankind under divine decree, are
doomed not to realize any of the blessed
ness of the better world, the best to be done
is to get all the good they can out of this.
It is natural for man to pursue pleasure.
The "truly good" may attain unto such
heights of holiness as Thomas A. Kempis
when he said: "I am not worthy
of anything but to be Bcourged and pun
ished, and deserve nothing but hell and
everlasting fire," but the common, every
day people nowadays want as much of the
happiness of this life as they can get out of
it The philosophy of the present is not so
much to "bewail griefs" and sin as to
accept the pleasure of the present and
enjoy them wisely and Tirtnonsly.
Seclusion Is Out of Fashion.
Oneof the old saints enshrined in history
has said: "It is commendable in a religious
person seldom to go abroad, to be unwilling
to see or be seen." Times have changed
since his day. One of the pleasures of life
In this nineteenth century is to travel to see
and be seen. To go abroad is a lust of the
flesh that is stronger now in no one than a
religious person. The preachers of to-day
have a rage for holidays and the delights of
traveling. The railroads, the rapid transits,
the coaches, the steamers give the people
nowadays such pleasures as their ancestors
never dreamed of enjoying.
The continents of the wide world are
open from sea to sea. The Puritan fore
fathers left "Merrie England" for freedom
to put on long faces, make blue laws and
take in the miseries of life after their own
doleful fa hion, while imposing the some on
those who did not conform to their own
ideas on the vanity of life. What a forlorn,
dry time they must have had in that day of
slow coaches, sailing ships and post horses.
What wonder they were dull-witted,
wooden-headed and "iven to relicrious views
marked mostly by melancholy and depres
sion shut in as they were. Now what with
trips to Europe, to Asia and Africa, to
Florida, to Colorado, to California and
Alaska, to the Yellowstone, and with sea
shore and mountain open and easy to reach,
Sreachers and teachers and all sorts and con
itions of men can take in the world and its
wonders, its scenes famous in song and story,
its renowned cathedrals, castles and cities,
and can enjoy the delight of travel and the
change of scene essential to health of mind
and body.
The Benefit of Travel.
Travel has a tendency to make bigots
broad, to enlarge the narrow mind and to
take the cranks out of character. Of courso,
if fools go to Europe, they do not return
wise men. David tells us that though you
bray a fool in a mortar yet will his foolish
ness not depart from him. But travel gives
to others an intellectual banquet, a store of
new knowledge, a iund ot fresh thoughts
and memories that prove an unending
pleasure.
The going away somewhere for an onting
is one of the charms of life. The prospect
of nothing to do but to follow out your
sweet will for a shcrt two weeks
is full of delight to everybody.
To the man in the workshop or the office to
get away from the "demnition grind," to
think that no relentless whistle, or Btrike of
clock will call him to his daily toil is a
thought that fills his soul with gladness.
He will go forth and work ten times as
hard as rowing a boat, working a bicycle,
or going a fishing and thinks it fine fun.
The teacher for pleasure and health goes to
Chautauqua and studies herself nearly to
death taking in all the systems, and
lectures and intellectual hash there provided,
and imagines she has had a lovely time.
The preachers and professors go to take a
holiday in making money by speaking their
pieces and in promulgating pet theories.
These will all do well, if in this persnit of
pleasure, they do not absorb enough mala
ria to last them the balance of their lives.
At the Outing Places.
Others love a holiday by the sea, the open
sea, with iU cool, fresh breezes and health
giving air. At Ocean Grove, Asbury Park,
are gathered crowds of the religious, who
wish to pray and praise and take in sermons
with their sea bathing and holiday doings.
The worldly go to Atlantic City, Cony
Island and other points in easy reach of the
great teeming cities. The great excursions
pour forth vasts crowds of pleasure seekers
for whose amusement are provided every
thing that can attract their attention and
extract their cash. Thousands whose idea
of fun is in doing many things they would
never dream of doing at home come back in
worse health than when they started and
"dead broke."
The fashionable folks find their summer
sojourn at the fashionable places Saratoga,
Newport, and others well known, where
they pursue pleasure by "putting on style,"
and endeavoring to snub those whom they
deem pushing and pretentious or independ
ent, and by displays of dress, diamonds and
"turnouts." Some women, it would ap
pear, seek happiness in their holidays by
showing off 41! costumes in two weeks, but
these are few, and they do not find the joy
for which thep pine after all, for such ambi
tion aims to excite envy and jealousy, and
the pure enjoyments of life can never be
felt by those filled with Buch mean desires.
How Other People Enjoy Themselves.
Thouumds find their summer rest at farm
housts, but they are disappointed, for they
must have the comforts and' good things of
living for the material body, in something
beyond cheap boarding house fare.
Busy men take their holidays in
their conventions and trade associations,
where they find pleasure in meeting those
in their own line ana in comparing notes in
a business way. Banquets and excursions
are more of a feature than anything else.
Friendships are formed, and friends true
and good are the richest blessings in life.
The camp meetings so numerous give rest
and change to thousands. The good people
find pleasure in their services in the open
air. tin the camps of the Spiritualists they
build up their peculiar delusion more
firmly than before. They revel in exhibi
tions of spooks, and swap and swallow ghost
stories with the same undoubting faith
with which little children drink in fairy
tales. The trick mediums are there in full
force, and the clairvoyants and fortune
tellers and readers of the stars.
However, every one to his taste In the
taking of holidays. Wise men take them
wisely and the tools foolishly. Holidays
ore good for everybody, but, alas, how little
after all is the real pleasure found in them.
The winged v inds that round their pathway
roar, th. mighty deep whose billows round
them play, the serenest moon that looks
upon the earth, when asked if they could
tell tne favored spot
Where weary man may find
The bliss for which he sighs
Where sorrow never lives
" And friendbhip never dies,
answers no! no! no!
One'of the chief joys of the summer holi
day is getting home, away from the stuffy
rooms, the tiresome bores, the toil of pleas
ure, the wcarisomeness of the whole busi
ness, and settling down in the comforts and
snuggery of home, sweet home.
Bessie Beamble.
ENGLISH IDEAS OF J0K2&
little Marshall Wilder Tells One That He
Bays Is Quito Characteristic.
New York Telegram.
"It's odd how people of different nations
take jokes in different ways," said Marshall
P. Wilder to a party of Americans in the
smoking room of the Victoria Hotel, Lon
don, one afternoon. "Here's a story, for
instance, showing the cockney's idea of
humor. Bill tells it to a number of his
friends:
" 1 had such a laugh the other day,' says
Bill. 'Me and a friend were walking along
and we came to a 'ouse that was afire. An
old covey was up in the windy. 'Better
jump out, old man,' says I; 'if you don't,
yoo'll get burnt up. Me and my pal will
hold a blanket for you.' So the old covey
iumped. We didn't 'ave no blanket and 'e
broke 'is blooming neck! Oh, I did laugh!'"
Flower Pots or Paper.
Pall Mall Badge:.
Having used paper for railway wheels,
for collars, and for writs, yet another pur
pose has been discovered to which it can be
applied. Flower pots made of this material
ha e been tried and are very favorably re
ported on. Their light weight anil non
liability to breakage mark them as peculiarly
suitable for transport purposes, and a severe
test proved their ability to withstand the
necessary damp. The time when tumblers
will be made of paper is evidently not far
distant.
Turning the Column Itnles.
It was customary on the death of a great
man for newspapers all over the country to
turn their column rules. The practice has
gradually diminished, and on the occasion
of Hannibal Hamlin's death, some days
ago, only one of the local newspapers in the
aeaa statesman's native town turned tne
column, rules.
HEATING OF HOUSES
By the Electrical Current Is Kot m
Economic Possibility.
FIGUEES THAT TELL THE TALE.
Cost Is Ten Times TTiiat It Is by the Steam
Eadiator System.
NO ADTAMAGES TO HAKE UP FOE U
CWBIl-i'lLS' POK THE DISPATCH.
There appeared some time ago in your
Sunday issue a statement, made, I believe,
by apiominent attorney, to the effect that
the electrical current could be and was
about to be made use of for general heating
purposes. In view of the fact that there ij
apparently a general misconception of tha
limits in this direction, a few figures
showing the commercial impossibility of any
such use of electricity may not be uninter
esting. It is not denied that electrical
energy can be transformed into heat or that
it is so transformed and utilized for special
COAfc
'XrTto'
The Two Methods in Diagram.
purposes, such as welding, heating rolls foT
photographic burnishers, heating wires for
cauterizing purposes and in many other
cases where a comparatively small amount
of energy is transformed into heat; but it is
proposed to show that the brood statement
that the dynamo and its adjuncts can bo
mode to take the place of the steam radi
ator, hot air furnace and other systems,
which may, in comparison with the elec
trical, be termed direct systems, is errone
ous and that the plan cannot be a success in
the present state of the art of generating the
electrical current
To show this I will confine myself to acora
parison of the fuel bills for a steam heating
and electrical heating system respectively.
The steam heating plant will consist essen
tially of a boiler and furnace to generate tho
steam and a number of radiators to transmit
the heat to the air in several rooms to ba
heated, together with the piping, trap3,
cocks, valves, etc
The Cost of Steam Ileatlns.
I will assume that the building is heated
12 hours per day for six months m the year
and that the steam system requires 100 tons
of coal at $1 80 per ton to keep the rooms
at the required temperature daring this
period, giving a fnel bill of 1 80 multiplied
by 100 or S180. Now this 5180 covers a
period of 12 multiplied by 30 multiplied by
60 or 2,160 hours. Therefore the cost per
hour will be 180 divided by 2,160 or .08
that is 8Kc The amount of coal consumed
each hour will be 100 ton3 multiplied by
2,000, for there are 2,000 pounds in a ton,
divided by 2,160 hours, which gives 92.6
pounds. I may fairly assume that the steam
plant will evaporate ninepounds of water into
steam for every pound of coal used in the
furnace and that all the latent heat of the
steam, that is, the heat which the steam
gives out on being condensed in the radia
tors, is utilized in heating the air in tha
rooms.
This latent heat amounts to 965 heat units
for every pound of steam, and as 1 h3ve as
sumed above that every pound of coal pro
duces nine pounds of steam it is evident
that for each pound of coal used we trans
mit to the air in the rooms 9 multiplied by
965, or 8,685 heat units; and since there ar'a
92.6 pounds of coal used each hour the heal
transmitted per hour will be 8,fcS5 multiplied
by 93.6, or 804,231 heat units. This latter flg-
ure is the actual amount of heat necessary
to warm the air in the building for ono hour,
and as far as the amount is concerned It
matters not in what manner we got it.
The Cost for Electrical Heating.
If derived from electrical energy a plant
must be installed, consisting of the follow
ing essential items: First, a boiler and fur
nace, by means of which the heat energy of
combustion is made to appear as potential
energy in the pressure of steam; second, an
engine by means of which thU potential
energy is transformed into a mechanical
equivalent; third, a dynamo to convert tha
mechanical energy into electrical energy?
fourth, a set of resistance coils, whicn in
this case we may call radiators, whosa
double function is (a) to transform tho elec
trical energy into heat, and (bj to transmit
that heat to the air.
Now, let us proceed to estimate what this
heat will cost per hour when maintained in
the manner above outlined. It has been
shown that the heat per hour must be S04,'i3t
heat units, and us the beat equivalent of ono
horse power per hour is2,5jo heat units, tha
horse power of the electrical current would
be 801 231, divided by 2 jfl, or 313.5. Taking
the efficiency of the dynamo and line at 85
per cent, that is, allowing for a loss of 15 per
cent in converting tbo mechanical into
electrical energy, the borso power of the en
gine driving tho dynamo must be 313.5 di
vided by .8j, or 26.8 net, on "brake" horse
power, which is that po er delivered at tha
rim of the engine pulley, and does not in
clude the friction of the engine itself. Tho
average engine likely to be used for this
work will maintain a horsepower for an
hour, with an expenditure of 2 pounds of
coal, and to maintain 3.8 horso power will
require evidently 3u8.S multiplied by 1. or
922 pounds. From this we can readily calcu
late the cost per hour, for if a ton of coal
cost$l 80, one pound wonld cost $0o09, and
922 pounds would cost $.82, or 82 cents. By
the first calculation tbo cost per power was
only 6 cents, so tha electrical heating cost
ten times as much.
The Advantages Inconsiderable.
Now, are the advantages secured by using
electricity sufficiently great to offset such an
Increased costT It is hard to see what thess
advantages are possibly a little greator
facility in regulating the temperature, less
steam fitting and (Linger oi loss from leak
age of water and a few minor items of not
much importance and that is alL
The comparative directness of the two
systems may be shown graphically by tho
figure accompanying tins article, in winch
the lines represent conditions of the energy
in the several steps of transmission, while
the small circles represent the machined or
appliances by means of which tho trans
formation is accomplished. The common
source of heat is, ot course. In both cases
coal and the common point to which the
heat is transmitted is the ufr in the several
rooms. The upper course represents tho
steam system, tea lower tha electrical plan.
It will bo seen that the steam system takes
the heat directly to the point of application
without any transformation wiiateer,wlnla
the electrical sj stern requires that the heat
energy must puss through three translorma
tions, two oi'w ulcn are accompanied by un
avoidable losses, before n c can get it into
the necessary form tor utilizing.
Nothing has herobeen said us to the rela
tive cost of the two plants and or tho outlay
for wages, wear ana tear, interest or depre
ciation, which are plainly in favor of steam.
The more direct systems can never be re
placed by the electric current until the
problem of generating electricity directly
irom coal is solved and the question will
even then depend on the cost of piouuction
of the current, as this element is the ultimata
test by which oil inventions or processes
stand or fall. William Wniaimt.
Better for Some I'eoplo.
Harper's Bazaar.
She It is better to have loved and
lost
than never to have loved at all.
He Yes. It is better for the florists, for
the jewelers, and sometimes even for tha
I lawyers.
fltw
V
'
O MIRV
YJl rf
w$3
m
k
-