SULLIVAN REPUBLICAN.
W. M. CHENEY. Publisher.
VOL. XII.
The Atlanta Journal calls fo; an in-
Cisasc of the army.
Tt is estimated that England ex
pends annually $15,000,000 on pic
tures.
Writers on vital statistics state that
there are two persons siek for every
death during tho year.
There are 280 iron and steel manu
facturing establishments in Pennsyl
vania, with an invested capital of over
8200,000,000.
Tlw colore.l element is increasing
much less rapidly than the white—
not only in tho country at large but
in the Southern States, avers the Chi
cago Herald.
The New York Independent ex
claims: "One man, .losiali W. Leeds,
succeeded in having the wholesome
laws so far enforced as to remove
from the news stands of Philadelphia
the papers which are devoted to illus
trations of crime."
A steel rail costs twice as much as
an iron one, muses the New York Re
corder, but the universal use of tho
former means millions to the farmers
of the West. It lias enabled railroads
to use larger and heavier cars, and the
results are cheaper freights and
quicker transportation.
Statistics show that in 1000 mar
riages, 332 men marry women younger
than themselves, 570 marry women of
their own age or near it, and eighty
nine marry women older than them
selves. Tho most notable difference
in ages brought to the notice of the
New York Mail and Express was in
Camden, N. J., last year, where the
bridegroom was twenty-two and the
bride sixty-nine.
An undue importance is given to the
bullet-proof armor lately brought out
by Dowo aud others, the New York
Recorder thinks. It is intended to
protect the vital parts only, aud the
head, arms and legs are exposed. In
a conflict the ratio of wounded to dead
combatants is very large, and a
wounded man is as harmless as a dead
one for offensive purposes. Probably
a body of men so equipped would pos
sess a stronger element of courage,
and therefore add to its efticieney;
but this added daring would only serve
to bring the combatants closer to
gether, and thereby largely increase
the number of wounded. Would not
a protected army lose, in the greater
number of wounded what it presuma
bly would gain in courage ?
The Contemporary Review says:
Englishmen are the milch cows of the
world. They are the great lenders
from whom all other nations barrow.
For generations they have been rich
and saving, until at last their annual
accumulations have become greater
than the annual openings for legiti
mate investment. So severe has the
pressure become that latterly the
money lender his been forcing his
money into every kind of undertaking,
in all parts of the world, creating, by
his own eagerness to lend, the corre
sponding desire to borrow. It is tho
weight of uninvested money which
stimulates borrowing, not the cupidity
of the impecunious. Borrowing has
not produced lending, but lending bor
rowing. Interest has continued to fall
because there are more lenders than
borrowers. If Englishmen think, then,
that any communities have dipped too
deep into the English purse, they can
easily apply the corrective by a little
self-control. They should abstain from
further lending. This may seem a
heroic remedy, lmt it is the only
remedy.
Very indeed, according
to the Baltimore Sun, are (ho figures
from the Bureau of Statistics showing
the export from the United States in
the eleven months ended May 31,1894.
The total was?* 834,000,000, against
jf782,000,000 in the like period of
the preceding year, an increase of
#52,000,000. But more than half of
this increase was in exports from the
South, showing the decided revival of
business activity in that section. The
exports from Southern ports aggre
gated #2*",, 700,000, or §27,000,000
more than in eleven months oi the
year ended May 31, 1893. Baltimore's
exports aggregated #73,9153,000 ; those
of Charleston, $13,028,130; (ialvcs
ton, $34,085,000; Nc\% < irl.'ans, $79,-
373,000; Newport News. $ 13.03K, 00(1;
Norfolk ami Portsmouth, $f 10,089,000 ;
Pensacola, $3,694,000; Richmond,
SB. 1)65,000; Savannah,
Wilmington, $6,909,000. These totals,
ns respects some of the«e ports, are
nirpri>itig. Baltimore s increase was
$7,400 00(1; that of Savannah, s•>
•HMMIOO , IIF SI W|ini T New SII OIMI,
lO't ; .( SI n <'l I NIL- •• IIMMIIKIJ , I
•mil-ton.
A shortage of billions of feet of pina
lumber is predicted from the great
Northwestern territory.
According to the Catholic Herald
there are about 152,000 colored Cath
olics in tho United States.
The chief maritime cities of the
United States in their order of im
portance, are New York, Boston, New
Orleans and Baltimore.
The long distance electric railroads
are coming rapidly. One is to be
built from Columbus, Ohio, to Cin
cinnati, 120 miles, and is expected
to be in operation by December, 1890.
Mr. Murray, the head of the fa
mous London publishing house, holds
that novels should not be admitted to
public libraries until, by having lived
five years, they have proved their
permauent value.
Lightning does strike twice in the
samo place, the New York Mail and
Express maintains, and a Houesdale,
(Penn.) farmer who was stunned twice
during one storm in his barn one day
last week lives to certify that an old
belief to the contrary is erroneous.
When even electricity takes to repeat
ing, the need of reform must be ad
mitted.
One after another, notes the Chi
cago Herald, the theological sem
inaries of this country are opening
their doors for the admission of women,
and especially for such as would fit
themselves for labor in the mission
field. The Cumberland Presbyterian
Seminary at Lebanon, Tenn., is one
of the last to fall into line in this
great matter.
Colonel Thornton W. Washington,
of Washington, I). C., is dead. Hit
death removes one of the direct lineal
descendants of General George Wash
ington. He was a great-grandson of
Colonel Samuel AVashington, the old
est brother of the illustrious first
President of the United States, and
the fifth generation in descent from
Colonel John Washington, tho first j
immigrant of the Washington family
in America, who came over in 1059
and settled on the border of Pope's
Creek, near its junction with the Poto
mac River, in what is now Westmore
land County, Virginia. He served in
the Confederate army. His wife and
seven children survive him.
A report on the uncultivated bast
fibers of the United States by Chai les
Richard Dodge, special agent, in
charge of fiber investigations, has just
been issued from the Department, of
Agriculture. Among the plauts de
scribed are species found in every sec
tion of tho United States, from Maine
to Florida and from Minnesota to
Arizona. Some of them are jute sub
stitutes, while others, if cultivated,
would produce a fiber rivaling hemp.
Over forty fiber plants are treated in
the report, the history of twenty
forms being given in full with state
ments regarding past efforts an 1 ex
periments toward their utilization.
Special chapters are devoted to the
asclepias or milkweed fibers, okr.i,
cotton stalk fiber, tho common abuti
lon—known commercially as "China
jute," but growing in tho fence
corners of every Western farm - Colo
rado River hemp and many others.
The Republican Senators whose
terms will expire iu March next are :
Joseph M. Carey, Wyoming;
Chandler, New Hampshire; S. M. Cul
lorn, Illinois; N. F. Dixon, Bho In
Island; J. N. Dolph, Oregon; William
P. Frye, Maine; A. Higgins, Dela
ware; G. F. Hoar, Massachusetts; C.
F. Manderson, Nebraska; J. McMil
lan, Michigan; 11. F. Pettigrew, South
Dakota; T. C. Power, Montana; G. S.
Shoup, Idaho ; W. D. Washburn, Min
nesota ; J. F. Wilson, Iowa; and E. O.
Wolcott, Colorado. Tlic Democrat;
are: «T. H. Berry, Arkansas; M. C.
Butler, South Carolina; D. Callery,
Louisiana; J. N. Camden, West Vir
ginia ; It. Coke. Texas; I. G. Harris,
Tennessee; E. Huntoii, Virginia; W.
Lindsay, Kentucky ; J. Martin, Kan
sas ; A. .T. MeLaurin, Mississippi; J.
R. McPherson, New Jersey; J. T. Mor
gan, Alabama; M. W. llausom, North
Carolina, and I'. Walsh, Georgia. In
anumberofStat.es, the Atlanta Con
stitution remarks, the election of Sena"
tors has already either been made or
has been settled. George I'eabody
Wetmore will snevd Dixon, of Rhode
Island ; ex-Governor Gear will take the
place of Senator Wilson, o! lowa, anil
J. S. Martin will succeed Hunton.
Lindsay aud Caff' ry hc.ve bad tli<: ij
scats already voted !n tbein and Mor
gan's return if assured. (I'.'iw Sen»-
tors, including D'dpii, Frtv ind-thi r>,
mil Itf vi-liiiiH I nilh.it nu\ gi'iil
itl-11.
LAPORTE, PA., FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 7, 1894.
THE CLOSING CENTURY.
As one who, rousoil from sloop, hears far
away
The closing strokes of some cathedral bell
Tolling the hour, strives all in vain to tell
If denser grows tho night, or pales the day
Bo we roused to life's brief existence, sny
(We on whose waking falls a century's
knoll).
Is this the deepening dusk of years, the fell
And solemn midnight, or tho morning gray V
We stir, then sleep again —a little si eop !
(Howbelt undisturbed by another's ring !)
For though, measured with time, a century
Is but a vanished hour tolled on the deep,
Yet what is time Itself? 'Tis but a swing
Of the vast pendulum of eternity,
—Henry .T. Rtockard, in the Century.
LOST AND FOUND.
• t RS. VAN ALTINE
fly v;m Bft untor ill g
| I h / /a leisurely clown one
%«A °f the boulevards
I* n or ' B. It was a
%.\U \ft7M | lovely spring
I morn ' n l?; the nir
{i ~ ra was crisp and ven-
W v B dure fresh and in-
W&f q H viting—just the
OS9 V H °' n Jft.v for
i stroll, and bo the
woman
had disdained her fashionable equip
page. She bad walked all the way
from her neat and artistic temporary
nbiding place in tlio American colony
to the shopping district, had pur
chased sundry trifles and looked at
thousands of articles she had not
bought; had fascinated a number of
clerks by her dash and brilliancy until
they were ready to display for her
especial benefit the wealth of the
world in feminine odds and ends, and
now she was making her way home
ward, care free, and happily con
scious that many covert glances were
cast at her stylish ligure.
At sixteen she was a charming girl;
at twenty-six a beautiful wife and
hostess; at, well, say thirty—an irre
sistible widow, perfectly satisfied to
saunter all by herself along what re
mained of life's floral pathway. With
u more than comfortable competence,
she regarded the future with compla
cency and the past with resignation.
Not that anything very tragic was in
terwoven among the yesterdays. Ex
istence had flowed smoothly enough—
a broken engagement, a heart wrung
for a time, a trip abroad, a wealthy
suitor, a fashionable wedding, a pleas
ing honeymoon, a series of social tri
umps, tho demise of her better half, a
briefperiod for mourning, nnd the com
fortable present.
She was childless, but she had many 1
friends. It is true that sometimes i
something like a pang came to her j
when her mind reverted to children, '
and she told herself that possibly a
little one would not be at all in the
way, but, on the contrary, might give 1
sweet solace to the few lonely mo
ments which came to her, who, gener
ally speaking, did not know what lon- i
liness was. As she walked along with
superb movement, she observed two
pretty girls in charge of a nurse. The j
children were playing on the grass be- j
neath the shade trees with which the !
boulevard was lined, while the nurse,
who had the expressionless features of
a peasant girl, was seated on a bench
knitting. Mrs. an Altino stopped j
impulsively.
"Oh, you darling," sho said, and I
thereupon in her own peculiarly j
graceful way began to question the I
children and coo over them just ns if j
sho knew all about tho language of j
childhood. Nearby on another bench j
was a little boy dressed in sailor's at- j
tire, with the word "captain" on his I
cap. He looked forlorn and dis- j
turbed, for his mouth quivered and j
there were tears in his big, blue eyes, j
"What's the matter, my little man?"
continued Mrs. Van Altine, in tho lan- j
guage of tho country.
He only stared at Jier and rubbed
one of his eyes with his dirty fist. She
placed her hand on hie golden curls in
a caressing manner.
| 'Why don't you play with the other
children?" she continued.
I' or answer he rubbed his other eye
with another dirty fist.
"Ihere, now, sailors don't cry," re
sumed Mrs. \an Altine, as she wiped
the grime from his face with a laoe
handkerchief.
"They goto battleand light and are
brave. Are you my brave little cap
tain ?"
"I don't understand," said the boy
iu English, plunging both fists into
his eyes.
"What! you speak English? You
aie an American boy?"
"Yes'm."
"And are these your sisters?"
"No'm."
"And what's your name?"
"Bobby."
"Bobby what?"
"Bobby Steele."
"And where are von from, Bobby?"
"Oh, a big place, much bigger and
nicer than this."
"What is it called?"
"Cleveland—oh—boo—boo—l want
togo home."
"But you can't go back to Cleve
land to-iiight, Bobby. Yon are thou
sands of miles from home."
"I don t euro— I want togo home."
"Is your mamma with you i.i
Paris?"
"No in. She'i in heaven. She's
dead. My mamma died when 1 -,vas
one year old. I'm all my papa s got
and now -boo! boo!—lie hasu t gut
me. I'm lost and shall never sec my
papa ae-ain."
"You poor child, you menu to tuy
yon can't, find your papa?
"No, wc went out lor a walk and •
stopped In it crowd t<- look in win
dow. Then my papa went away an !
left no
"At..i you couldn't lind liiiu .m\
«iie 11 r
"No'm. I shall never see my papa
again."
"Nonsense! of course you will.
Why, we'll go aud find him now."
"Will you?" Do you know my
papa'?"
"I can't say that I do. There are
so many Stoeles in the world. •Is your
papa slender, and does ho wear a little
mustache ?"
"No; my papa's big and has a
beard."
"Theu I guess I don't know him.
How long liava you been waiting
here?,'
"Oh, hours!"
"Well, you are my brave little cap
tain, after all. I'll buy you some
bon-bons."
"Will you?" With great show of
interest.
"Yes."
"And a candy cane?"
"Yes."
"And a tin soldier I saw?"
"Yes."
"And I saw an elephant I want and
i two toy lions and —"
"My dear child, you evidently want
| to start a zoo of your own."
"What is that!"
"Oh, a menagerie."
"I went to a menagerie with ray
I papa here yesterday. We saw them
| feed the lions."
"Where are you stopping here, mv
child?"
"I don't know. A big place. Will
you take me there?"
"I will, if I can find it from yonr in
definite description."
"What's 'indefinite' mean?"
"Never mind that now. Are you
stopping at a hotel?"
"I guess so."
"Would you remember the name of
tho hotel?"
"No."
Mrs. Van Altine repeated a num
ber of names.
"I don't know,"he said.
"Well," she remarked with a little
sigh, "I suppose wo had better call a
carriage."
"That'll be fine," he said. "I've
got a velocipede home."
"Have you? Well, just go and wave
your hand at that man with the car
riage. Remember you are my gallant
little escort, aud you must be very
polite."
"All right."
In a few moments they were com
fortably seated in the carriage.
"How do you like this?" she asked.
"It's great."
"Where to, madam?" interrupted
the coachman.
"Yes, where to? That's tho ques
tion," ruminated Mrs. Van Altine.
"Where shall we go, iuou capitaine?"
"Get the tin soldier," said the boy.
"Very well. That will give mo timo
to think. Drive to a toy shop."
As they dashed down the boulevard
Mrs. Van Altine drew the child nearer
to her.
"You don't feel lost any more, my
brave captain?" she asked.
"Not so much so, thank you."
"And if we don't find your papa can
I have you?"
The boy's lips quivered.
"Oh, 1 want my papa."
"Even it I Bhonld buy you an ele
phant and—and a real pony to ride in
the park?"
The boy hesitated. Ho was evident
ly sorely tempted. The real pony
weighed against his papa was a per
plexing problem, but finally he said
stoutly:
' 'I want my papa."
"And you shall have him," said Mrs.
Van Altine.
"But I want you, too."
"I'm afraid you can't always have i
me."
They drew up in front of a toy shop
and Mrs. Van Altino and her charge
entered. They purchased an elephant,
a tin soldier dressed in French uni
form, a candy cane, and the young
man would have ordered half the store
if Mrs. Van Altino had not prevented
it.
"Where shall I send these, madam?"
asked the clerk.
"Where? I don't know. We'll take
them. Bobby, carry this elephant."
Bobby was only too willing to do
this, and again they entered tho car
riage.
"To the. Hotel St.Petersburg," com
manded Mrs. Van Altine. She vaguely
remembered that many Americans
went to this hotel. In about twenty
minutes they dashed up to this estab
lishment aud the carriage door was
opened by a big porter who looked
around for their luggage.
"You can take the elephant and the
tin soldier," said Mrs. Van Altine,
imperiously.
The porter hesitated, his sense of
dignity injured, but Bobby settled
the matter by declaring:
"No; he cau't have them, I'll car
ry them."
Mrs. Van Altine and the boy en
tered the parlor there ivul the hand
some American woman said :
' Send the clerk to ine."
Bobby set the elephant of the floor
and seemed indifferent just then
whether he would be found or not by
his bereaved parent. The clerk ap
peared.
" Is Mr. Steele of Cleveland stopping
here?"
"He is not madamo?"
"Has h<- been '-topping here?"
"N'> 112 ma lame."
"He is itu American ami is at some
hotel, probably. How can I tind him?
I'll is i.-> his boy, who is lost. '
"F will send you a hotel register, a
list of ;il 1 Americans at the different
hotel.-."
"thank you. That i* what I want."
'!'!>■• list MII . duly forthcoming and
Mr. \mi Mtiue scauned it eagerly.
'-.Meelc steel let me.- e Smith,
''row •t , io'ii -no Steele- -perlmps .t
i> further down v oaimon nam*,
t■. ei ir< j.l",ii\ of Stile,- liurniMi
Walker. Melville lIH ' Steele,
Steele—ah, here is a Steele. Bobby,
is your father's name Richard?"
"No'm,"
"Too bad. How my heart jumped
when I saw that name! What if—
nonsense! By the way, Bobby, what
is your father's uamo?"
"Dick, ma'am."
"Dick?"
"Yes'm."
"Don't you know that Richard and
Dick are the same names?" she asked
severely.
"No'm. My uncle Silas calls my
pa Dick."
"Well, heie i» a Richard Steele at
one of the hotels. We will call and
see. But remember if your papa
doesn't want you, Bobby, you are go
ing off come and live with me."
"Do you think my pa don't want
me?"
"Bless my little sailor, no. Why,
every golden lock must be precious to
him. Do you know what I'd do,
Bobby, if I had a little boy like you?"
"No, ma'am."
"I'd—l'd love him to death."
At tho next hotel Mrs. Van Altino
was informed that Richard Steele was
stopping there ; that he had a boy ;
that the aforesaid boy was lost; that
Mr. Steele was nearly frantic and that
he had just gone to the prefect of po
lice.
"And where is that?"
"Just across the way, madam. '
"Come, Bobby, wo will surprise
him. He must be nearly crazy."
A handsome American, thirty-five
years of age, solid aud prosperous
lookiug, was conversing with tho of
ficial in the magistrate's office.
"I will do what I can, monsieur.
The lad will be taken in, and our sys
tem of communication is such that the
fact will be known at headquarters. I
will then at once inform you of the
eircnmstances."
"Your reward shall be a handsome
one."
At this moment the clerk looked in.
"A lady to see you, monsieur."
"Say I am engaged," responded the
officer.
"I did tell her that."
"Well?"
"She asked if an American gentle
man was here. I told her 'yes,' and
she said she must come in at once."
"Very well. Show her in."
Mrs. Van Altine, a vision of glorious
womanhood, stood in the doorway
with Bobby by the hand.
"Is this your son, sir?" she said.
Richard Steele sprang to his feet.
Bobby dropped his elephant and the
next moment was folded to his father's
breast. Mrs. Van Altine seemed
strangely moved as she regarded the
scene. Her face was overspread with
unusual pallor.
"I was not mistaken," she told her
self. "There are, truly, many Steeles
in the world, but it must have been
some psychic sense that caused my
heart to beat when 1 heard this name.
Let me see, now; it is sixteen years
since—and there he stands and does
not know me. Time, time, how you
level romance ! He was slender. Now
lie is stout. Ho had such a dainty
mustache. Now he has a beard.
Really, he is much better looking."
These and other thoughts flashed
through Mrs. Van Altine's mind at
that moment. The American turned.
"Madam, how can I thank you?
I—"
Words failed laim. He gazed in
growing amazement.
"Fannie!"
"Dick!"
They clasped bands. The years that
had passed were bridged by that pres
sure of hands. Plighted faith, resent
ment, broken vows, pique, misunder
standing, separation—all, all vanished,
and in the sunlight of the present
they gazed gladly into each other's
eyes.
"And Bobby is—"
My boy? Yes."
"Sho wanted to keep mo, pa," said
Cobby, with the elephant clasped to
his breast.
Dick, who knew all about Mrs. Van
Altine's history, bent toward her as
he remarked: "There's a way she
could do that."
' 'Dear me, how late it is getting!
So glad to have met you, Dick!
Charming to see old friends after so
many years ! Goodby— HO, an revoir,
for I trust I shall soo you. My salon,
as I call it, is quite a resort. Come
and I will introduce you to many
clever people—true Parisians."
"Who will bore me?" he said,
bluntly.
"The same honest, outspoken Dick !"
Then as she entered the carriage, she
said:
"Yon will come?"
"To meet clever people?"
"No, to see me."
"Yes, I will come. I had intended
to leave Paris to-night—"
"But now?"
"I shall remain—so a* to call on
yon and thank you more fully for
your great service to-day."
"How adorable. You always were
charming, Dick."
"Even when—"
"When we quarrelled! Yes, indeed.
You were the most delightful man to
quarrel with I ever met. if you had
not been— But I must bo going. Be
.sure and come — "
"When?"
"As early as you cau."
"To-morrow night?"
"At once; to-night. I ani all impa
tient to tell you a hundred things,
and—"
"X will come."
'And bring Bobby, il you want!'
—Detroit Free Press.
The most wonderful cliff dwellings in
the United States are those of tin
Muncos, in a Southern Colorado cau
y Some of these eaves are 500 to
HOO feet from tin bottom of ttie pel
tidieular side of the canyon wall,
•Mid how their occupants gained iu
- I ■ II- a 111 VAtel V
Terms--.81.00 in Advance ; 51.25 after Three Months.
IN A SUGAR REFINERY.
PROCESSES BY WHICH THE RAW
SUGAR 13 REFINED.
Terrific Heat Kndured by Some oi
the Workmen—ljlle In the Drying
Rooms—Frightful Toll.
IT is doubtful if there is any other
group of buildings in or near
New York where the fearful diffi
culties under which men labor
for the bare privilege of living, are so
plainly shown as they are in tho
towering, forbidding, fortress-like
structures on the East River front of
Brooklyn, owned by the American
Sugar Refining Company, better
known as tho Sugar Trust.
The big buildings cover a space of
four blocks on both sides of Kent
avenue, from South First to South
Fifth streets, and on tho west side of
tho avenue extend to the river front,
their grimy, dull-red walls extending
seventeen stories above the street
level. A close inspection of the
Havemeyer refineries is necessary to
a thorough realization ot the im
mensity of the establishment, and
this group is one of tho refining places
owned by the trust. It has no equal
in size or in the amount of its busi
ness in the limits o£ the Greater New
York. The employes of the great
concern are disciplined with rules as
strict as tlioso which govern an
army. If one attempts to get into
tho refineries ho meets tho discipliuo
in the shape of a gruff watchman and
a club, and a call at the offices reveals
it in the shape of a more or less polito
negative from the clerks, who will say
that tliey cannot answer questions.
There are about 3000 men employed
in the big refineries, and these are
divided into day and night shifts.
About 5 o'clock in the morning half
of the force can be seen filing down
into the basement of one of the great
buildings. Work is begun im
mediately, and continuod until 5 in
tho evening, when the men are sup
plied with checks, showing that they
were on hand when work begun.
The majority of the workmen are
Poles and Hungarians, and the severity
of their labors is shown by the fact
that they are nearly all thin aud
stooped, and rarely above middle age,
it being a well-known fact that men
employed in tho refineries rarely live
to old age. They are nearly now im
migrants when first employed, and be
fore work is given them tiiey must be
found perfectly docile aud obedient.
Tho rules of the refineries are laid
down to the applicant for employment,
and he is told that lie will receive
§1.12, §1.25 or $1.50 as- tlu case may
bo, for the first year, and theu, if his
work is satisfactory, he may receivo
an additional five or ten cents a day.
The man is assigned to work in one of
the many departments, and if he has
received tho "tip" from friends of his
own nationality before going to work,
he trembles lest tho edict may con
demn him to the "dry room." It it
be that, however, he receives it with
characteristic stolidity, and is thank
ful for an opportunity to earn his nv -
erable pittance, even under such t> •
rible circumstances.
When the raw sugar is dumped from
the ship in which it is brought to the
refineries it is placed in a great cistern
near the river's edge, and is dissolved
in hot water. From this vat a sweet,
sticky steam constantly arises, and
every little while a workmau, dressed
in overalls and an undershirt, pops
out from it, and in a minute or so pops
back again, and is lost to sight in the
moist cloud. The liquid is pumped
up to the top story of the pile, pass
ing through a wire strainer, which re
moves any particles of size which may
be in it, and is emptied iuto great cop
per receptacles heated to 298 or 210
degrees Fahrenheit, known as boilers.
The process of boilina; requires con
siderable skill, and the men who have
charge of it are paid SIOO or $l5O a
month, the number receiving the lat
ter figure being extremely limited,
only one man in a hundred who re
ceives employment in the refineries
becoming a boiler, which is the highest
ambition of the workmen.
The boiling and bubbling sugar is
passed down through funnels to the
next floor, where it is emptied into a
box, the bottom of which consists of
two thicknesses of canvas, one being
coarse, the other tine. This thorough
ly filters the stuff, and the room is
kept at a terrific temperature in order
that the liquid sugar may flow freely,
and not become cool and thick. On
the floor below is another great cop
per tank, some twenty-live feet deep
and nearly filled with bone black.
This purities the sugar, nud, after be
ing used for a few hours, becomes sur
charged with foulness, and is sent to
the lower floor, where it is burned
again. The sugar, which is still kept
at a temperature >f about 150 degrees,
is passed iuto another receptacle,
which is made airtight, and the air
and steam are exhausted by means of
a pump. As soon as the sugar is gran
ulated, if it is to be sift, it is let off
by means of centrifugal mills. If not,
it is passed onto the great plates to
bo dried.
The rooms in which the drying is
carried on are veritable infernos. No
man can stay in them over ten min
utes without fallin* dowu utterly
prostrated by the terrific heat. No
one but an employe is ever allowed
within thesi walls, and no one but an
employe would dare tog > in them
when the heat is on and the sugar is
Irving. Clothing is discarded, with
the exception of a "breech clout" and
shoes, and there is absolutely no ven
tilation, as the windows are kept
tightly close I.and at the windows iu
other rooms which are open the men
may be seeu gasping for breath, aud
with their hair and bo lies as wet as if
they had b en plunged in the East
liivei iu then short respite from their
frightful toil V, v i'urk Tiibune,
NO. 48,
A SEA SHELL,
Sen shell
Murmurs swell
To the ronring of the sen,
When ray ear is laid to thee.
From thy walls
A storm sprite calls
With siren's voice to mo.
Sea shell
Fairies dwell
In thy tiny tinted hall;
Dainty, fleeting footsteps fall
To rhythmic strain
And sweet refrain,
Dancing at the sea nymphs' ball.
Sen shell
Dulcet bell
In thee I hear it ring,
While ethereal voices sing
Charmingly
Of the sea
To the lute's enchanted string.
Sea sholl
In a cell
All the world a prison find
Far sweetor than them in kind,
Thy fair portal
Is to immortal
Palace of a dreaming mind.
Sea sholl
Tolls a knell,
While I hear thy whispers sound
Of the waves unceasing bound,
To the shore
"Evermore,"
Saying as they sweep the ground.
—Philadelphia Ledger.
HUMOII OF THE DAY
Few of us need a lantern in order to
find fault.—Milwaukee Journal.
Take care of the pennies, and tho
dollars will be blown in by your heirs.
—Puck.
Narrow minds go beyond the deed
and search for the motive—Syracuse
Courier.
Who ever made a dollar by envying
anybody better oil' than himself?—
Troy Press.
It never cools a man off when tho
street sprinkler throws water on him.
—Atchison Globe.
One thing a woman never can learn
—that liquids will leak out of a paste
board lunch box. —Puck.
Take out of some people all the af
fectation aact they will have nothing
left to live for.—Galveston News.
Oil for troubled waters is nothing
compared with water for allaying the
rampant tendencies of dust.—Pnck.
He (passionately)—" You are my
life." She (practically)—"Have you
got it insured ?"—Detroit Free Press.
"With all her faults, I lcio hot' Still,"
They heard him sadly say ;
"The trouble is, she never will
Consent to koep that way."
—Washington Star.
Don't fool with a wasp because you
think he looks weak and tired; you
will find out he's all right iu the end.
—Lowell Courier.
"That's what I call a good deal of
a take off," lamented the carriage
horse, turuiug to look at its docked
tail.—Chicago Tribune.
"Another dey gone," said the Sul
tan as he saw the head fall off. "But
it doesn't matter so long as it isn't
'ours."—Princeton Tiger.
Judge—"Then you gave us a wrong
age?" Elderly Female—"Not wrong
exactly—ut least it was all right some
years ago."—Fliegende Blaetter.
If you're waking call mo early ,
King the breakfast bell at three.
Nothing matters so I miss our
Neighbor'ssinging "Sweet Mario."
—Chicago Inter-Oeean.
Head of the Firm—"Humph! Book
er oft' again to-day? AVliat's his ex
cuse this time? A lame one, I'll bet?"
Clerknien—"Yes, sir; broke his leg,
sir."—Buffalo Courier.
Teacher - 'The race is not always to
the swift. Do you understand the in
ner meaning of that?" Bright hoy—
"Sometimes the head feller's tire gets
punctured."—Good News.
If you are out of work a clean face,
blacked shoes, and a nose without a
blossom will be a better introduction
than a diamond stud or a gold watch
chain.-—Chicago Inter-Ocean.
"You are nothing but a big bluff,"
remarked the river to the bank. "Is
that so?" retorted the bank. "If I
take a notion to come down on you,
your name will be mud."—lndiana
polis Journal.
Kittio—"l heard to-day you mar
ried your husband to reform him."
Sarah —"I did." Kittie—"Why, I
didn't know he had auy bad habits."
Sarah "He had one-- he was a bache
lor."—Tit-Bits.
".Mrs. Blimber is very nervous about
there being thirteen at the table to
night.". "Does she think something
unpleasant will happen?" "Yes; she
has only a dozen knives and forks.'' —
Chicago luter-Ocertii.
Bob—"Hello! I'm awfully glad to
see you?" Di k-—"I guess there must
be some mistake. 1 don't owe you
anything and I am not in a condition
to place you in a position to owe mo
any thing.• Boston Transcript.
Tonix —".My friend Soarer'.-t busi
ness irei]uentlv puts his life in danger,
but. I've never yet known him to de
sert his post." Toildieß--"VVh°.l' • liis
business?" Tonix--"He's an a ro
naut. "-—South Boston News.
Figg--"l've got a good story I want
to tell you." -"Jla! ha! ha!"
Figg--"What in time an- you laugh
ing at?" "Fo.-g- "I'o.ir atjry. Vou
say it is n goo- 1 «m• -; p<> of coarse I
must have hjar.l it." Boston Tran
script
Mis. Xewitt—"l discovered this
morning that we ueud :> d • : u!kt for
thf haU'.kjv vii> oidiy " .Mr. Newitt
•--"Is there «oi ;isr ••••idar necessity
for it?' Mrs. Newitt. —"Why, cer
tainly ! 1 ..-g >t to Is:» VC none place to
h.di the >< \ when i K' • out, tiHVrn'c
it" -'-velit'lt - low .v