MRS- PAHItL WILUAHI NW »W "•
VtlHft*. "*«C>tl&A»» •
NO country has a more splen
did system of lighthouses
than the United States, and
here, where so few profes
sions or callings are barred to woman,
the position of light-keeper is open to
her; provided, of course, she can stand
the examination that is necessary be
fore she can be placed upon the roll of
ollglbles for appointment. The posi
tion is both congenial and remunera
tive, and for a great many years wom
en from time to time have found their
way into the profession, until now
there are few States with a coast line
that do not number at least one among
their light-keepers, and frequently a
greater number.
The accommodations of a liglilhouse
station are, of course, varied. Some
times they arc simple, but in the case
of the new structures they are very
elaborate. In the ordinary building
there are usually a service-room, liv
ing-room, bed-room, oii-room and a
store-room.
The duties of the lighthouse-keeper
are many and important. The top of
the tower is usually a tiny room, all
glass windows. The lantern is in the
centre of the room; it is a great prism
of glass in shape like a beehive. The
lamp is set into this, and the lenses
magnify the comparatively small light
of the lamp and make it a great beacon
seen far oft; over the waters. Should
tiie luminant be a flash-light, there is
machinery to be wound up every few
hours to cause it to revolve. At sunset
MliS. WILLIAMS AT THE FOOT OP TIIE
LIGHTHOUSE STAIRS.
the keeper climbs the steep steps in the
high tower, takes down the curtains
that darken it throughout the day, and
sets the lamp inside the lantern. As
she makes out the last dim sail upon
the horizon and feels a thrill of isola
tion, and that the sun has left "the
world to darkness and to me," she may
have a serene sense of consolation in
remembering that hundreds of other
keepers are climbing upward in the
night, and her soul's cry for compan
ionship is answered. At midnight the
lamp is changed; a freshly filled one
is jmt in the place of the first lighted
one.
When storms are raging or fogs pre
vailing the keeper stays awake to
wind the machinery that keeps the fog
signal booming over the water. Many
sleepless nights are thus spent by the in
in devoted vigil of the
j.Ms to navigation. At the gray of
dawn the keeper is again climbing the
steep iron ladder to the tower-top.
Before the red rim of the sun appears
the lamp is extinguished, the fine,
prismatic lenses are covered, and the
huge panes of glass that form the
J^feg^llllilijiiijj( |ijj jjj iiiiisssiiissss!
LIGHTHOUSE DWELLING AND BELL FOG-SIGNAL, LITTLE TRAV
ERSE LIG MT-STATION.
'walls of the room are curtained. The
large lamp is carried down the flights
of an almost perpendicular ladder, and
when filled, trimmed and cleaned is
j-e:;d.Y for the sunset hour. The work
of the keeper Is not concluded with
this feat; the most perplexing portion
of the daily routine is now to be per
formed.
The light-keeper must give an ac
count of his stewardship. A record is
kept of qvery gill, pint, quart and gal
lon of oil that is nightly consumed by
the lamps, the fractional parts of
inches of wick burned, the lamp-chim
neys broken, and the general consump
tion of all supplies furnished yearly in
large quantities by the Government.
The accounts are piled up in pamphlets
full of figuring, and the minutest ac
r •
is
MRS. NORVI2LL ON LIGHTHOUSE TOWER, LAKE POXTCHA7.-
TRAIN, LOUISIANA.
curacy is absolutely necessary. Trust
in a keeper is imperative. Daily,
monthly, quarterly and annual reports
are rendered to the inspector, and each
report is a detective upon the other,
every light is a watch-tower, and every
visible light-station reports the' others
on the log-book or daily journal.
The pathetic story of Lena, the six
year-old keeper of a port light on the
Mississippi River, brings tears to many
eyes. The blind grandfather pleaded
with the child not to venture to the
island post that night, iu vain. Lena
had promised the inspector never to
forget that light, and, although a
>»orm swept the river, she hastened
to reach the post, only to have her
frail life dashed out by the waves.
While Mrs. Fowler, wife of the keep
er at the North Dumpling light, Fish
er's Island Sound, Rhode Island, was
in charge of the tower in her hus
band's absence, during a thick fog a
break occurred in the machinery by
which tiie bell is rung as a warning
to sailors. The bell was at the top
of the tower, with no regular means
of reaching it. Nothing daunted, Mrs.
Fowler set a ladder against the tow
er, climbed tlie height, tied a rope to
the bell, and rang it until the fog
cleared away. The Lighthouse Board
warmly commended Mrs. Fowler's
courage in a letter that is precious
to her. These are but a few transcript
from official pages.
The first woman to act as a light
house-keeper was probably Elizabeth
Smith, who, 'n 18;M), kept the light at
Old Field Point, Long Island, and had
full charge of it for twenty-tive years,
Nancy Rose was appointed in Novem
ber, 1857, as a lighthouse-keeper to
succeed her husband at Stony Point,
on the Hudson River. She is the first
woman keeper whose appointment is
on official record. In her seventy
seventh year, Mrs. Rose still climbs
the ladder to the light with no uncer
tain step, faithfully keeping her vigil
under stormy and starry skies. Iler
bright eyes are unimpaired in vision.
The lighthouse stands on the hilltop.
The keeper's cottage is surrounded by
a well-kept garden that during the
summer-time is full of blooming dah
lias. Mrs. llose maintains the family
tradition in being a light-keeper, ns
they have held the post ever since the
tower was built. She has raised sev
en children, and kept the position
through various political changes be
cause, as she says,"l have done my
duty."
The first women to be appointed
lighthouse-keepers on the Pacific coast
are widows, Mrs. Emily A. Fish at
Point Pinos, and Mrs. Julia P. Will
iams, of Humboldt, California. Point
Pinos light is situated on a point of
land jutting into the sea. Mrs. Fish
obtained permission to add to the ac
commodations, and built a comforta
ble residence with modern Improve
ments for herself.
Mrs. Fish keeps th® light with groat
care, allowing uo one to relieve her of
the official duties of the station. As a
result she received, In March, 1001, a
letter of special commendation for the
neatness, excellence and faithfulness
of her service, a document that is
filed with the official records of the
lJoard.
Mrs. M. D. R. Norvell Is one of the
well-known heroines of the lighthouso
service. She was born in Washington,
I>. C., and her great-grandfather de- '
signed the Washington monument. I
The romantic, brilliant and versatile j
girl married a young man of fortune, \
who suffered financial reverses, and i
was appointed keeper of the light at I
the Head oft lie Passes, Port Eads,
Louisiana. At his death Mrs. Norvell
succeeded him as keeper of the light,
in 1891, and she brought up her two
children iu the sunshine and storm of
a sea-life.
Another of these heroines is Mrs.
Martha A. Iveeler, who has spent
twenty-four years in various light
houses along the North Carolina coast.
Nine years of this time she was
fourteen miles from a postoffice and
ten miles from laud, but she had her
birds and flowers and books, and be
tween them and the performance of
her household duties the time passed
pleasantly enough. Mrs. Josephine
Freeman lias kept the light on Blakis
ton Island, near where the broad
Potomac Joins the bay, since 1876.
Mrs. Freeman says the winters are
severe and that terrible storms fre
quently prevail. She often walks across
the Ice to the distant Maryland shore
for mail and provisions.
Mrs. Daniel Williams, keeper of the
light in Little Traverse Harbor, on
Lake Michigan, in a recent interview
said tiiis of her work: "I first went
into the service in IS6D with my hus
band, who was tiie keeper of a light
upon an island. In 1872 he was
drowned while rescuing a boating par
ty. The appointment was given to me,
and I continued in my first charge for
fifteen years. I was then transferred
to the mainland, and I have been here
for more than sixteen years. I love
my work—it lias its fascinations foi
me; and I love the water, although it
lias been to my beloved ones a cruel
friend. I have had many stirring ex
periences in all these years of l'ght
keeping. Many are the storms I have
seen, watching the wild waves beat
ing upon the shore. Every evening us
I climb my tower-steps I know that
there are hundreds of othe* light
keepers doing the same thing. I have
many sleepless nights when storms
are raging. My station is built of
brick and stone, and is very comforta
ble and warm to live in. We light
keepers feel a great sympathy with
our sailors, for we know their eyes are
watching to catch the welcome glim
mer of the lights as they sail on the
stormy deep. The light-keepers arc
much exposed to danger, and many
lives are lost ingoing to and from the
mainland to the lighthouses that are
built upon rocks and shoals. Our lives
are given to our work, and we feel
the great responsibility resting upon
us. We are faithful to the duties as
signed us, and we keep our
trimmed and burning, a guide to mar
iners on the way to safe harbors of
refuse."—Woman's Home Companion.
THI? CHINCHILLA.
TTI once It Comes, What It l£ats, Ho'.r I|
la Trapped.
Very few people seem to know mueli
nbout that finest and most delicate of
furs, the chinchilla. Were it not for
Its lack of durability, the skin being
thin and light, this loveliest of pelts
would bo more used for whole gar
ments. As it is, most of us are con
tent to have It for collar and rovers,
facings, collarettes, ana muffs.
It Is expensive to start out with,
nbout the price of a Sealskin, and
doubly so, v. hen you consider that its
wearing qualities are quite below senl.
But it is lovely and becoming, and
when you consider that it will last a
number of seasons if no strain be put
upon it, you can't wonder that so much
of it is sold.
Some make the mistake of thinking
that yellowism, or dull gray, or greasy
skins are imitations; rather are they
the coats of different sorts of chinchil
las which come from Chile, Buenos
Ayres aiul La Plata. The real chin
chilla, the sort which is worth having,
and which has made this fur fashion
able. conies from the mountainous dis
tricts of Peru and Bolivia.
The chinchilla, rodent that it is,
lives upon vegetable matter, and is
about nine inches in length. The tall
measures five or six Inches, and the
ears, which are almost hairless, are
rather large, broad and silky. Grey
is the color of the fur, with blue for
■ -
THE CIIINCIirLIiA.
the ground color. The light parts are
a slate-white, while down the back it
is of a dark blue or black cast.
While the half savage South Amo>
lean Indians still do the catching of
these nimble and cautious animals,
they no longer surround their holes in
the earth with a network of cactus
upon which the poor little things used
to impale themselves after belug lured
out and scared into trying to escape.
Besides this punctured the skin, mak
ing It less valuable.
Then they tried smoking them out,
but this turned the skin yellow.
Now they use dynamite!
Having located their victims they
form a network of grasses and hardy
plants around a hill on the side of
ivhicli the chinchilla burrows. A dyna
mite cartridge with a fuse attached is
then discharged in the centre of the
network and the poor little things
are frightened into running out and
scampering about, when the Indians
dash into the inclosure with clubs,
nnd kill them by striking them on the
head. To date this is counted the
best way out of a bad job; It is a
quick death, and does not damage the
skins, which bring up to §ls.
The skins are immediately removed
nnd placed on bushes to dry. the In
dians often making their next meal
from their hldeless victims. Some In
dians limit them with ferrets.
To Make 150 Miles an Hour.
An electric engine has been invented
which is expected to attain a speed of
one hundred and fifty miles an hour.
A society, lately formed, comprising
the leaders of the most noted machine
works, has for its sole object the at
tainment of phenomenal speed on rail
roads. The new locomotive was con
structed by Sicilians & Ilalske, and the
preliminary tests, which, by special
order of Emperor William, were made
therewith on the military railroad
Berlin-Zossen, are reported to have
given brilliant results.
uhn llarleycorn Flees 15eftire the Ail
vance of the Persuasive Vegetable.
Cq.' C-C
--'• Prominent workers in social sci
ence, addressing the International
Vegetarian Congress in London, testi
fy that a vegetarian diet is a certain
cure ior the liquor habit"- «
DR. TALMAGES SEKMON
SUNDAY'S DISCOURSE BY THE NOTED
DIVINE.
Subject: Secret Societies—Why Silence Is
Sometime* Best Organization a That
Work For Humanity's Service The
True Tests For Secret Societies.
I Copyright 1901.1
WASHINGTON. D. C.—A practical ques
tion which i« asked in most houses and
for many years is here asked by llr. Tal
mage and answered; text, Proverbs xxv,
0, "Discover not a secret to another."
It appears that in Solomon's time, as in
all subsequent periods of the world, there
were people too much disposed to tell all
they knew. It was blab, blab, blab; phy
sicians revealing the case of their pa
tients, lawyers exposing the private af
fairs of their clients, neighbors advertising
the faults of the next door resident, pre
tending friends betraying confidences.
One-half of the trouble of every com
munity comes from the fact that so many
people have no, capacity to keep their
mouths shut. Wtien I hear something dis
paraging of you. ray' first duty is not to
tell you, but if I tell you what somebody
has said against you and then go nut and
tell everybody else what I told you, and
they go out and tell others what I told
them that I told you, and we all go out,
some to hunt up the originator of the
story and others to hunt it down, we
shall get the whole community talking
about what you do and what you did not
do, and there will be as many scalps
taken as though a band of Modocs had
swept upon a helpless village. We have
two cars, but only one tongue, a physio
logical suggestion that we ought to hear
a good deal more than we tell. Let lis
join a conspiracy that we will tell each
other all the good and nothing of the ill,
and then there will not be such awful need
of sermons on Solomon's words, "Discover
not a secret to another."
Solomon had a very large domestic cir
cle. In his earlier days he had very con
fused notions about monogamy and poly
gamy, and his multitudinous associates in
the matrimonial state kept him too well
informed as to what was going on in Jeru
salem. They gathered up all the privacies
and poured them into his car, and his
family became a sorosis or female debat
ing society of 700, discussing day after day
all the difficulties between husbands and
wives, between employers and employes,
between rulers and subjects, until Solo
mon, ill my text, deplores volubility about
affairs that do not belong to us and extols
the virtue of secretiveness.
By the power of a secret divulged fam
ilies, churches, neighborhoods, nations,
fly apart. By the power of a secret kept
charities, socialities, reformatory move
ments and Christian enterprises may be
advanced. Men are gregarious—cattie in
herds, fish in schools, nirds in flocks, men
in social circles. You may by the dis
charge of a gun scatter a Hock of quails
or by the plunge of an anchor send apart
the denizens of the sea, but they will
gather, themselves together again. If you
by some new power could break the asso
ciations in which men now stand, they
would again adhere. God meant it so. lie
has gathered all the flowers and shrubs
into associations. You may plant one
forget-me-not or heartsease alone away
off upon the hillside, but it will soon
hunt up some Other forget-me-not or
heartsease. Plants love company. Y'ou
will find them talking to each other in
the dew.
You sometimes sec a man with no out
branchings of sympathy. His nature is
cold and hard, like a ship's mast icc
glazed, which the most agile sailor could
never climb. Others have a thousand
roots and a thousand branches. Innum
erable tendrils climb their hearts and blos
som all the way up, and the fowls of
heaven sing in tlie branches. In conse
quence of this tendency we find men com
ing together in tribes, in communities, in
churches, in societies. Some gather to
gether to cultivate the arts, some to plan
lor the welfare of the state, some to dis
cuss religious themes, some to kindle their
mirth, some to advance their craft. So
every active community is divided into as
! sociations of artists, of merchants, of
T bookbinders, of carpenters, of masons, oi
| plasterers, of shipwrights, of plumbers,
i Do you cry out against it? Then you cry
I out against a tendency divinely implanted.
I Your tirades would accomplish 110 more
than if you should preach to a busy ant
hill a long sermon against secret societies.
Here we find the oft-discussed question
whether associations that do their work
with closed doors and admit their mem
bers by passwords and greet each other
with a secret grip are right or wrong. 1
answer that it depends entirely 011 the
nature of the object for which they meet.
Is it to pass the hours in revelry, wassail,
blasphemy and obscene tall; or to plot
trouble to the state or to debauch the in
nocent, then I say with an emphasis that
no man can mistake, "No!" But is ihe
object the defense of the rights of any
class against oppression, the improvement
of the mind, the enlargement of the heart,
the advancement of art, the defense of
the Government, the extirpation of crime
or the kindling of a pure hearted sociality,
then I say with just as much emphasis,
"Yes."
There is no need that we who plan for
the conquest of right over wrong should
publish to ull the world our intentions.
The general of an army never sends to the
opposing troops information of the com
ing attack. Shall we who have enlisted
in the cause of God and humanity expose
our plans to the enemy? No; we will in
secret plot the ruin of all the enterprises
of Satan and his cohorts! When they
expect us by dav, we will fall upon theiii
by night. While they are strengthening
their left wing we will fall 0:1 their right.
By a plan ot battle formed in secret con
clave we will come suddenly upon them,
crying, "The sword of the Lord and of
Gideon!" Secrecy of plot and execution
is wrong only when the object and ends
are nefarious. Every family is a secret o
eicty, every business firm and every bank
ing and insurance institution.
Those men who have no capacity to
keep a secret are unlit for positions of
trust anywhere. There are thousands of
men whose vital need is culturing a capac
ity to keep a secret. Men talk too much,
and women, too. There is a time to keep
silence as well as a time to speak.
Although not belonging to any of the
great secret societies about which there
nas been so much violent discussion, 1
have only words of praise for those asso
ciations which have for their object the
maintenance of right against wrong or the
reclamation of inebriates or, like the score
of mutual benefit societies called by dif
ferent names, that provide temporary re
lief for widows and orphans and for'men
incapacitated by sickness or accident from
earning a livelihood. Had it not been for
the secret labor organizations in this
country monopoly would long ago have
under its ponderous wheels ground the
laboring classes into an intolerable servi
tude. The men who want the whole earth
to themselves would have got it before
this had it not been for the banding to
gether of great secret organizations. And,
while we deplore many things that have
been done bv.them, their existence is a
necessity an» v .\teir legitimate sphere dis
tinctly poinV\ v- ut by the providence of
God. Such oiydhizations are trying to dis
miss from their associations all members
who are in favor of anarchy and social
chaos. They will gradually cease any
thing like tyranny over their members,
and will forbid violent interference with
any man's work, whether he belongs to
| their union or is outside of it, and will
declare their disgust with any such rule
as that passed in Kngland by the Man
chester Bricklayers' Association, which
says any man found running or working
beyond a regular speed shall be fined two
shillings and sixpence for the often?!?,
five for the second, ten shillings
for the third, and if still persisting shall
be dealt with as the committee thinks
proper.
Let any Christian wife rejoice when her
husband consecrates evenings to the serv
ice of humanity and of God or anything
elevating, but let no man sacrifice home
life to secret society life, as many do. I
can point out to you a great many name.*
of men who are guilty of this sacrilege.
They are as genial as angels at the society
room * and as ugly as sin at home. They
are generous on all subjects of wine sup
pers. yachts and tine horses, hut they are
stingy about their wives' dresses and the
children's shoes. That man has made that
which might be a healthful influence a
usurper of h's affections, and he has mar
ried it, and he is guilty of moral bigamy.
Under this nroces.-; the wife, whatever her
features, becomes uninteresting and
homely. Tie becomes critical of her, does
not like the dress, does not like the way
she arranges her hair, is amazed that he
ever was so unromantic as to offer her
hand and heart.
There are secret societies where member
shit) always involves domestic shipwreck.
Tell me that a man has joined a certain
kind and tell me nothing more about him
for ten years, and I will write hisftistory
if he be still alive. The man a wine
guzzler, his wife broken hearted or pre
maturely old, his fortune gone and his
home a mere name in the directory.
Here are six secular nights in the week.
"What shall I do with them?" says the
father and the husband. "I will give four
of these nights to the improvement and
entertainment, of mv family, either at
home or in good neighborhood. I will de
vote one to charitable institutions. I will
devote one to my lodge." I congratulate
you. Here is a man who says. "Out of the
six secular nights of the week I will de
vote five to lodges and clubs and associa
tions and one to the home, which night I
will spend in scowling like a March souall,
wishing I was out spending it as I have
spent the other five." That man's obitu
ary is written. Not one out of 10,000 that
ever get so far on the wrong ro 1 ever
stops. Gradually his health will fail
through late hours, and through too much
stimulants he will be first-''ate prey for
ervsipclas and rheumatism of the heart.
The doctor coming in will at a glance see
it is not only present disease he must
tight, but years of fast living. The cler
gyman for the sake of the feelings of the
family on the funeral day will only talk
in religious 'generalities. The men who
got his yacht in the eternal rapids will
not be at the obsequies. They have press
ing engagements that day. They will send
flowers to the coffin, will send their wives
to utter words of sympathy, but they will
have engagements elsewhere. They never
come.
Another test by which you can find
whether your secret society right or
wrong is the effect it has on your seen'in
occupation . 1 can understand how through
such an institution a man can reach com
mercial success. 1 know some men have
formed their best business relations
through such a channel. If the secret so
ciety has advantaged you in an honorable
calling it is a good one. But has your
credit failed? Are bargain makers now
more anxious how they trust you with a
bale of goods? Have the men whose
names were down in the commercial
agency Al before they entered the society
been going down since in commercial
standing? Then look out.
You and 1 every day know of commer
cial establishments going to ruin through
the social excesses of one or two mem
bers. their fortune beaten to death with
ball player's bat or cut amidships with the
front prow of the regatta or going down
under the swift hoofs of the fast horses
or drowned in the large potations of cog
nac Mononiahela. The secret society was
the Loch Karn. Their business was the
Ville de Havre. They struck, and the
Ville de Havre went under!
The third test by which you may know
whether the soeietv to which you belong
is good or bad is this: What is its effect
on your sense of moral and religious obli
gation? Now, if I should take the names
of all the people in this audience and nut
them on a roll, and then I should lay that
roll back of this organ, and a hundred
years from now some one should take that
roll and call it from A to /. there would
not one of you answer. T say that any so
ciety that makes mc forget that fact is a
bad society.
Which would you rather have in your
hand when you come to die —a pack of
cards or a Bible? Which would you
rather have pressed to your lins in the
closing moment —the cup of Belshazzarean
wassail or the chalice of Christian com
munion? Whom would you rather have
for your pallbearers—the ciders of a
Christian church o" the companions whose
conversation was full of slang and inuen
do? Whom would you rather have for
your eternal companions—those men who
spend their evenings betting, gambling,
swearing, carousing and telling vile stories
or your little child, that bright girl whom
the Lord took? Oh, you would not have
been away so much nights, would you, if
you had known she was going away so
soon? Dear me, your house has never
been tne same place since. Your wife
has never brightened tip; she has never
got over it; she never will get over it.
How long the evenings are with no one to
put to bed and no one to whom to tell
the beautiful Bible stories! What a pity
it is that you cannot spend more even
ings at home in trying to helo her bear
that sorrow! You can never drown that
griet in the wine cup. You can never
break away from the little arms that
used to be flung around your neck when
she used to say. "Papa, do stay with me
to-night—do stay with me to-night!" You
will never be able to wipe awav from
your lips the dying kiss of your little girl.
The fascination of a bad secret society is
so great that sometimes a man has turned
his hack on his home when his child was
dying of scarlet fever. He went away.
Before he got back at midnight the eyes
had been closed, the undertaker had done
his work, and the wife, worn out with
three weeks watching, lay unconscious
L M next room. Then the returned
father comes up stairs, and he sees the
cradle gone, and he says, "What is the
matter? On the judgment day he will
find out what was the matter.
Oh, man astray. God help you! I am
going to make a very stout 'rope. You
know that sometimes a ropemaker will
take very small threads and wind them to
gether until after awhile they become a
ship cable. And I am going to take some
very small, delicate threads and wind
them together until they make a very
stout rope. I will take all the memories
of the marriage day—a thread of laughter,
a thread of light, a thread of music, a
thread of banqueting, a thread of congrat
ulation—and I twist them together, and T
have one strand. Then I take a thread of
the hour of the first advent in your house,
a thread of the darkness that preceded,
and a thread of the light that followed,
and a thread of the beautiful scarf that
little child used to wear when she bound
ed out at eventide to frreet you, and then
a thread of the beautiful dress in which
you laid her away for the resurrection,
and then 1 twist all these threads to
gether and I have another strand. Then
1 take a thread of the scarlet robe of a
suffering Christ, and a thread of the white
raiment of your loved ones before the
throne, and a string of the harp seraphic,
and I twist them all together, and 1 have
a third strand. "Oh, you say, "either
strand is enough to hold fast a world."
No; I will take these strands, and I will
twist them together, and one end of that
roue I will fasten not to the communion
table, for it shall be removed; not to a
pillar of the organ, for that will crumble
in the ages, but I wind it round and
round the cross of a sympathizing Christ,
and having fastened one end of the rope
to the cross I throw the other end to you.
Lay hold of it! Pull for vour life! i'ull
for heaven!