THE POWER OF THE SADHU
A Story of Mystery.
By DEREK VANE.
I was staying at a small military
station In India, when a curious thing
happened In what haB been called
"the world beyond our senses." I
had lieen traveling up country, and
was recruiting after an attack of
fever at the quarters of the son of
an old friend. He was a fine, manly
young fellow, a general favorite, and
lust engaged to his colonel's daugh- I
ter, a Miss Cynthia Langley.
"You must be beloved of the godu,
Harold," I said, laughing, as we were
sitting one morning smoking on the
reranda. "You seem to have every
thing your own way. Fortune is
showering nil her good gifts on you."
"Unberufen!" he cried, gayly.
"Don't you know It Is unwise to re
mind the gods of their favors lest
thoy tnke them away? I'm a deuced
lucky chap, as you say" by the way
his eyes softened I knew he was
thinking of Miss Langley "I only
hope It Isn't too good to last."
I was surprised at the touch of
uneasiuess in his tone at the last
words, but I kneV enough of human
nature to understand that fear and
anxiety for the woman he loves may
trouble a man without reason, though
he would face real danger to himself
without a qualm.
"You are growing superstitious," I
said "You have been In India long
enough to have lost some of your
British stolidity and gained a little
Imagination."
"Perhaps. You know a good many
curious things. Have you ever heard
of The Midnight Ax?' " he asked, af
ter a moment, abruptly.
"No," I said In surprise; "wlrat dt
you mean?"
"They have a 3uperstlllon in this
part that if you hear the sound of
strokes in the night, as though some
one were felling trees, it is a warn
ing of coming evil. The natives say
that 'this noise conieth about the
time of the first sleep, when all men
slumber soundly, and the night is
tilill.' Well, I woke up suddenly last
night and heard 1'."
He spoke In a half shamefaced
way, as though he expected to be
laughed at, but I could see he was
unpleasantly Impressed himself.
"Nonsense!" I said, thinking the
sooner he got rid of such a fancy the
better. "As you know the legend,
any noise that disturbed you outside
In the night would be likely to take
the sound of felling trees in your
earn.
"I have never heard it before," he
answered quietly. And then he be
gan at once to speak of other things.
He did not refer to the subject at
any future time, and as I did not see
him look troubled again, but, on the
contrary, he seemed to be enjoying
his life to the full, I concluded the
uncomfortable presentiment had not
returned and was forgotten.
I was convalescent, and thinking
of starting on the first stage of my
journey home, when a traveler set
up his camp in our neighborhood.
He appeared to be a person of lm
Vortance, as he had quite a large
retinue of servants. Some of the
officers soon made his acquaintance,
and we learned that his name was
Jerome Burton, and that he had been
living up country, out of reach of
civilization, for some years.
This would explain various peculi
arities In the appearance and mode
of living which struck one as strange
In a wealthy young Englishman trav
eling for pleasure, as he gave himself
out to be.
"There's something funny about
that chap, Harold," I said, when we
met Mr. Burton . 'ding into the
Colonel's compound 01, evening. "I
can't quite make him out. '
"Is there?" he answered, careless
ly. "I haven't noticed It. You know,
sir," mischievously, "you have been
Investigating so many queer things
all your life that you may be inclined
to give a little dramatic coloring to
quite ordinary people and situa
tions." I laughed at the glbt.
"My habit of looking under the
that she was promised to another
man, and I knew that if Harold's un
suspicious nature were once roused
there might be trouble. I could not
quite understand the girl, but then I
don't know much about women. It
seemed to me that she was flatered
by Burton's devotion, and that she
liked to make him feel her power. M
could not warn her that she was
playing with fire.
One night the Colonel had had a
dinner party, and afterward some of
the men went outside to smoke,
where they coulJ listen at their ease
to the music in iie drawing-room,
which opened on the veranda. I hap
pened to be sitting opposite Burton,
who was lying back in a lounge chair,
and I was puzlliix. as I often puzzled,
oxer the fleeting likeness to somebody
I had met before.
I would not acknowledge that I
could be mistaken. I prided myself
on my memory for faces and facts.
The likeness seemed to be about the
eyes, which were Oriental in their
dark brilliance and fire, though now
they only glinted under the heavy,
half-closed lids. As he lay back
smoking In the dreamy, absorbed
fashion, which, to my mind, again
betrayed his Eastern nature, the
moonlight filtered through the trellis
work and a shaft fell full on his
face.
I started violently. Surely this
Jerome Burton, this pseudo English
man, bore the sign of the trlfala on
his forehead!
The trlfala are three lines drawn
upward between the eyebrows, and Is
the sign used by a sect of Sadhus, or
Hindu ascetics. The sign should
have the centre line painted in red
and the outer ones in white, the triple
lines signifying the three gods of the
Hindu triad: Vishnu, Siva and Brah
ma. But the marks, of course, were
uncolored In Burton's forehead, and
had evidently been effaced as much
as possible. If the light had not hap
pened to catch the lines In a certain
way I should never have noticed
them. I knew now where I had seen
this man; the sign had wakened my
memory. It was among the lonely
snow-fastnesses of the Himalaya
Mountains In the cave of a feared
and venerated sadhu.
I wond-red what I should do. It
would be useless to try and expose
him with nothing to support my ex
traordinary statement but those three
almost obliterated lines, and yet
could not endure the Idea that the
man whom I had last seen In native
dress apparently living the native
life, should take his place among Eu
ropeans unquestioned.
I wondered If he remembered me
We had only met for a few hours
when I was accorded an Interview
with the recluse of whose extraordi
nary powers I had heard, and whom
I had journeyed some distance to see
in my eagerness to learn as much as
possible of Indian mysticism. Burton
had certainly never given me the
slightest reason to think that he had
seen me before, but then he had the
Oriental command of feature and ex
presslou.
Cynthia Langley was singing now
and he was listening with a rapt ex
presslon. I could see her seated
at the piano, with Harold standing
beside her, her fair face turned up a
little, her soft white gown falling
away from her rounded throat and
dimpled arms, and It angered me
that Jerome Burton should dare t
covet this loveliness.
For It was evidt ut to me that he
lingered on In the hope of winning
Cynthia away from her allegiance.
Sl.e had seemed to avoid hini of late.
He had shown his hand too plainly
and frightened her, perhaps, I
thought.
I was determined to stay and see
the play out, though 1 fancy Harold
wondered a little at my change of
plans, but 1 thought 1 might be of
use to him presently, though as yet
1 did not know how. If I could have
been present at his marriage I should
have gone away quite content, but
I shut myself up in my room di
rectly I got back, and unlorklng a
trunk I carefully looked through the
papers I had collected during my so
journ In India and the note-books I
had written until I came upon an ac
count of my Interview with the saint
of the Himalayas. So far I had found
nothing to help me; If this did not
give me a clue to Burton's strange
behavior I could do nothing more.
But the clue, thank heaven, was
there.
"8ome of these Hindu ascetics," I
had written, "acquire extraordinary
powers, but the wonder-working sad
hus are not to be found In crowded
streets and bazaars, but In tho lonely
t.urface has saved my life more than , Colonel Langley postponed It first on
ouce when I have had only myself
tc depend on," I said. "And In this
ccuntry more thun in any other I
have found It true that things are
very seldom what they seem. Of
course, you will say it Is my imagina
tion again, but once or twice I have
fancied that this man Burton and 1
have mot before."
"Well, I suppose that is not im
possible, considering how you have
roamed the world, and he also seems
a bit of a traveler."
"Yes, but that is just what puzzles
me. I cannot 'place' him; I don't
know where he belongs In the past.
Though his face appeat-B familiar, I
have no ideu where I can have seen
him."
"In a previous existence, perhaps,"
Harold said, laughing lightly.
"No," I answered, taking him seri
ously. "Within the last year, and
in this country. He belongs here,
without a doubt, by Inclination and
habit, if not by birth, though I should
be Inclined to say he had some in
dlau blood in his veins. It Is not
only bis dark complexion that
might come from exposure to the
sun but his manner to women and
varlo is other little things are dis
tinctly un-English. Haven't you no-r
ticed It?"
"Yea," he said more gravely. "I
don't like the fellow any better than
you do."
"I wonder the Colonel has him so
much at his place," I ventured. "Af
ter all, we know very little about
him. He brought no credentials."
"Except his money-bags," sharply.
"Tho Colonel Is a poor man, and con
sequently attaches an exaggerated
value to these. But," ho added, loy
ally, "It Is not really his fault; Bur
ton Is a pushing chap and would get
In anywhere he wanted."
I could not say anything further,
though I felt more uneasiness than I
had shown In the Intimacy that had
sprung up between this stranger and
Golqnel Langlcy's family; particu
larly at his undisguised admiration
for Cynthia.
His attentions to her wore an Im
pertinence, considering he was aware
one excuse and then on another, un
til Harold began to get Irritable and
suspicious.
I calmed him as much as 1 could,
for It seemed to me that the Colonel
would gladly seize on any excuse to
break off the match, and I was afraid
that, 'In some impetuous moment,
Harold might give him the opportu
nity he sought. Either Bunon had
got Cynthia's father into his power
in some way, or else the Colonel was
dazzled by the new suitor's wealth.
I was returning alone late one eve
ning from the club when, as I passed
the Langley house I saw some one
moving about in the compound. I
should have thought nothing of It,
I for natives are to be met anywhere
at any hour, but there was something
I. . ...I .1.1' :. :ih II... Ul.
lent figure which roused my atten
tion. I stopped to look more closely,
and theu I saw that the soft, gliding
movements did uot belong to a na
tive, but to Jerome Uurton.
-le was stooping over some white
stones, and seemed to be writing or
making some sign on them
watched him in amazement, but in a
few minutes he got up aud came to
ward the gate, and I hurried away
1 did not want htm to and me watch
Ing. I should learn nothing of his
doings except In secret; he was more
than a match for me In guile, I knew.
1 was out oarly the next morning to
examine the stones, which had ap
peured to Interest Burton so much
the night before. But when I reached
the Colonel's garden I found that
they had gone!
I stood gazing at the impressions
in the damp ground where they had
been, unable to credlltuiy senses. I
could not be mistaken, for I had no
ticed exactly where Burton had stood.
"There is some deviltry at work,"
I muttured at last, "but I can't get
at the meaning of it. They were
common stoues, of no value, I should
nay, to anybody, and yet Burton takes
the trouble to come late at night and
make some cabalistic signs over them.
He did not take them away with him.
I know, but they are gone tl : morn
ing. What does It meu : '
ungle and snow-locked mountain.
where the foot of man Is rarely seen.
Here, after years of penance and pro
bation, they are able to perform what
seem miracles to grosser minded men.
"The sadhu I have seen to-day Is
such a one. At my urgent entreaty
he gavo me an example of his power.
He told me that he had only to make
certain mystical sign on anything
he wanted and It would be brought to
him by an unseen agent, and in proof
of this a few minutes after he had
touched a plant growing In a cleft of
a rock I saw It lying at his feet! It
appears, however, that all such things
brought by his djlnn. or familiar
spirit, only remained with him for a
time. He had no power to keep them
permanently."
I put my note-book down.
"Burton attached himself to him
and became his d'.sclple, doubtless
with the object of learning his power
and making use of It to unworthy
ends," I mused. "And, unfortunate
ly, the old sadhu must have taught
him a good deal. I understand uow
how the stones disappeared, though
still I do not see why he wanted
them."
But I was to learn that a little
later.
I was a bad sleeper and often went
for a stroll after other people had
gone to bed. Lately I had been par
ticularly wakeful and uneasy, being
convinced that some mischief was at
work, and not understanding what It
was, and when I went out I instinct
lvely made it a habit to walk past
Colonel Langley's bungalow. It
seemed possible that Burton would
repeat his secret visit, and If so I
wanted to be there to see. But a
week had passed since the Incident
of the stones, and, as far as I knew
he had not gone again at night.
He had looked worried and anx
lous of late, and I fancied he was
sotting desperate. He had lost
ground with Cynthia, who obviously
avoided him, and altogether things
seemed to be reaching a crisis. The
station generally had had enough of
him, and he was more or less ostra
cised, but he was too absorbed In his
mad infatuation to care about any
thing else.
As I leaned against the Colonel's
palings, looking idly down the empty
moonlit road, thinking that I would
turn in when I had finished my cig
arette, I heard a soft footstep behind
me, and swinging round sharply
saw Cynthia Langley. I started for
ward with an exclamation on my lips
when 1 stopped short.
The girl's eyes were wide open
but fixed and empty; she was walking
in her sleep, or something like it, and
It might be dangerous to rouse her
She still wore her white evening
dress, and gilding along with that
light, unconscious step, she looked
like some fair spirit. Too bewildered
to wonder where she was going,
followed her.
For some minutes we walked over
the silent plain, she a little ahead of
me, then suddenly she turned oft the
rough track and stopped, ut, though
arrested by an unseen hand.
In a moment I knew the reason
Jerome Burton's white encampmen
was close by, and Burton himself now
came forward with outstretched hand
from the shelter of a tree. My first
Inclination was to seize him by the
hroat, but he evidently had not seen
me, and crouching in the shadows 1
watched and waited.
His touch and voice roused the
girl, aud she gave a sharp cry.
What is it? Where am I?" she
said, looking round wildly.
"With me, dearest. You are quite
safe, don't tremble so. You must
have been thlnkltig of me, as I was of
you, and you came out to give me a
kind word, so that 1 might sleep in
peace. You have not given me many
kind woids of late, have you? And
no rest has come to me day or night."
His voice was as soft and muBlcal
as a charm, and he looked at her with
worshiping oyeB. Whatever he might
be, his love was something that no
woman coula despiBe. For a moment
I wondered. Then I saw Cynthia
tear her hands a?y with a passion
ate cry.
"You brought me here." she said,
"by your tvlcked arts. Do you think
I should have come of my own free
will? Don't you know that If at first
I was vain and foolish enough to feel
Mattered by your attentions, I have
long hated and feared you? I have
kept silence and endured your pres
ence out of consideration for the man
I love and because every day I hoped
that you would go away."
1 saw him turn white to the lips at
her stinging words, and In that mo
ment, scoundrel though he was, I
felt sorry for blm.
"Indeed," he said slowly, and now
his face was changed. "1 am sorry
It has come to this. I would rather
have won you by love than fear, but,
anyhow, you are mine. Do you
tiling, cruelly, "that when this mid
night assignation comes to his earB,
your fiance, who, I believe, has very
strict notions, will be anxious to keep
you to your engagement?
She called out In distress and
wrung her hands.
"I shall take you home uow, and
If you give me your word to be my
wife I shall say nothlug of this meet
ing to auy one," the relentless voice
went on. "If you refuse, your father
will know of this compromising ap
pointment to-night and the rest of
our friends to-morrow. Among your
matter of fact countrymen I think
you will find few to credit your story
of having been brought here against
your will. Now, choose!"
She was a proud, sensitive girl,
and 1 would not run the risk of let
ting him gain even a momentary
triumph.
"I will choose for Miss Langley,"
I said, stepping forward. "She re
jects your proposals with scorn. I
saw her leave her father's house, I
followed her here and I have heard
every word that has been said. I
think my explanation Is likely to be
received with more credence than
yours, and that she has nothing to
fear though," meaningly, "that will
not bo the case with you If one scan
dalous word passes your Hps."
The poor girl was clinging to me,
sobbing with jy and relief, and put
ting my arm through her, while Bur
ton was still struck dumb with sur
prise. I led her away. She reached
the shelter of her father's house un
seen, and I had little fear that asy
one would bear of how nearly her life
had been wrecked, unlesB she chose
to tell Harold herself.
But the end of the story Is per
haps the strangest part. The next
morning news was brought that Jer
ome Burton had been found dead in
his tent, and when I went to see him
I shuddered at the look of fear and
horror that death had stamped on
his face.
It was the look. too. of a man tak
en by surprise.
There were various rumors afloat
as to the cause of his sudden end.
some putting It down to suicide, oth
ers to native treachery, though no
trace of violence could be found, but
I bad my own theory, which I kept
to myself. I knew how man's power
over the unseen forces of r.?ture is
resented by those who must obey It;
I knew, too, that occasional' v the ser
vant In that strange world may be
come tho master, especially when the
power gained has been put to an evil
use. And, remembering tho expres
sion on the dead face, I drew my own
conclusions. Manchester Chronicle.
GENESIS OF THE FIRST
SUCCESSFUL AEROPLANE.
FROM THE SCIENTIFIC AMERICAN.
..........
HOW A TEXAN KILLED A BEAK.
Range Rider Shut Off Its Wind With
a Lasso, Then Used His Knife.
Jim Gordon, a range rider for W.
W. Wllklns, whose big ranch Is over
near Howard Wells, in Western
Texas, was much surprised the other
morning to see a large black bear
lumbering along ahead of him. It
was in a rough locality, and the bear
was evidently out to get its morning
meal of sotoi roots.
Gordon stuck his rails Into his
horse and took after the bear. The
chase did not last long. Gordon
unloosened his rope, which was colled
over the pommel of his saddle, and
when he got within throwing distance
of the fleeing bear he deftly circled
the noose over the animal's head.
The cow pony sat back upon its
haunches and drew the rope taut.
The bear got one of its paws under
neath the noose and prevented the
rope from choking it. Then began a
struggle that lasted for more than au
hour.
Ordinarily a horse is desperately
afraid of a bear, but the cow pony
which Gordon was riding stood the
ordeal fearlessly. It maintained its
position while Gordon dismounted
with a view attacking the bear at
close quarters with his knife. He
had no other weapon. The bear put
up a hard light the moment it saw
Gordon on the ground. It rushed at
him and struck him a terrific blow
on the shoulder which sent him
spiawling several feet away and out
of reach of the maddened animal,
which was confined to a prescribed
circle by the rope.
Strange to say, the bear made no
attack upon the horse. It seemed
to consider Gordon responsible for
the whole trouble. Gordon deter
mined to kill the animal before he
left the spot. He made several Inef
fectual efforts to dash In on the .bear
and give it a blow with his knife,
but each time he was struck by tho
animal's paw. Finally he got hold
of tho rope and by a sudden pull
managed to tighten the rope so that
the bear's wind was temporarily shut
off.
Taking advantage of the moment
Cordon rushed In and cut the Jugular
vein of the animal with his knife. He
loaded the bear upon his horse aud
brought it to the ranch house. Kan
sas City Star.
WORDS OF WISDOM.
There's no chance for relatives
evjr to be intimate, for you have no
use for your poor ones and your rich
ones have no use for you.
When a woman Is trying to make
her husband take her on a short trip
to Europe she says they are planning
to retire and live abroad.
There's something about an argu
ment that makes a man get all tan
gled up even on the thing he knows
better than the other fellow.
It must be a Joy to be so rich you
arsn't ashamed to confess you can't
afford something.
It a man has to be supported by
his wife and sisters he'll lnslBt on giv
ing them advlceabout making money.
It Isn't the wages of the cooks that
count In the country, but the railroad
fares to bring new ones every day or
two.
Mere force of habit makes a girl
scream when she is in the dark wltb
a man even if he doesn't do anything.
The worst about having a good
reputation Is the way you sometimes
try to live up to It when you don't
want to.
When widows get married again
they ought to cut out the references
they give the second husband from
the first.
When the crops are bad the farm
ers blame it on providence, but when
they are good they think It's because
they're so smart. From "Reflections
of a Bachelor," in the New York
Kress.
Hundreds of people have cured
themselves of lmpedlmeuts of speech.
Oue of last year's mayors, as a young
man, used to find It almost lmpot
- it. i. to pronouuee words beginning
with a "q." Every day for months
he used to walk across St. James'
Park practising this sentence aloud,
"A quantity of quicksilver quietly,
quartered in a quagmire," until he
conquered the Impediment. To-dayl
he Is one of the most fluent speakers!
In England Tlt-Blts.
In all the history of invention there
Is probably no parallel to the unos
tentatious manner It which the
Wright brothers, of Dayton, Ohio,
ushered Into I he world their epoch
making Invention of the first success
ful aeroplane flying machine. At a
time when the various experimental
ists In the field of aeronautics were
dumbfounded by the failure of the
deservedly - renowned Langley to
make a practical flight with his government-backed
)50,000 machine. It
was suddenly announced that two
young machinists had produced an
aeroplane which had made a con
tinuous flight, with one of the In
ventors on board, of over twenty
miles at a high speed and under per
fect control.
Their success marked such an en
ormous stride forward In the art,
was so completely unheralded, and
was so brilliant that doubt as to the
truth of the story was freely enter
tained; especially as the Inventors
refused to give either access to the
machine or make any statement as to
Its broad details.
The Scientific American, however,
wrote to the seventeen eye witnesses
who were mentioned as having seen
the various flights and received let
ters from these reputable local resl
dents, and published extracts there
from, which completely set at rest
all doubt as to what had been ac
complished. Unfortunately .the for
eign aeronautical world failed to ap
preciate the significance of the facts
as thus mnde known; and when San
tos Dumont made his recent short
flight of a few hundred feet, with a
machine built on the lines of the
Wright brothers' aeroplane, he se
cured In Europe the credit of havlug
inade the first successful flight.
One of the editors of the Scientific
American was recently accorded the
first Interview given to any technical
journal, in which the Messrs. Wright
gave some hints as to what they had
actually accomplished, and outlined
the Investigation which led up to
their final success.
After becoming interested in the
problem of aerial navigation some
ten years ago, the brothers experi
mented during several summers with
a double-surface glider, with which
they became so proficient that they
could make long glides from the
summits of the sand dunes and de
scribe n letter S at the bottom. They
Improved their machine by the addi
tion of a vertical and u horizontal
rudder and a method of twisting the
planes to preserve lateral equilibri
um. After reaching sufficient profi
ciency in controlling the machine in
gliding, the brothers undertook to
transform it into a power-driven ma
chine. As no light-weight gasoline
motors were to be had at that time,
they were obliged to build their own
motor. They decided upon a four
cylinder, wuter-cooled, horizontal en
gine, which, when completed, weighed
250 pounds and developed about six
teen horse-power, although It would
show twenty-four horse-power for
the first fifteen seconds.
As they were unable to find any
authorltles giving definite rules for
designing air propellers, they w?re
obliged to work out a theory of their
own ou this Important subject. They
designed propellers for their ma
chine, and calculated the speed at
which It should travel with the
horse-power at their disposal. In the
first trial with a motor (In Decem
ber, 1903) the machine flew at prac
tically the speed the brothers figured
It should attain; which speaks well
for the truth of their theory of the
action of screw propellers. In this
first, flight the muchine went In a
straight line u distance of 852 feet
against a twenly-flve-mile wind. Hav
ing proved thut the glider would fly
wlth a motor, the brothers returned
home, and during the spring of the
following year resumed their experi
ments in a meudow some eight mites
from Dayton, where they built a shed
to house their machine. The greater
part of the spring, summer and au
tumn of 1904 and 1905 was spent in
experimental work with a new aero
plane. A number of obscure diffi
culties were encountered, and It was
found that the machine acted quite
differently from what It did when
merely gliding without a motor. In
fact, with the motor installed, the
operator had to make some moves
for control of equilibrium exactly
opposite to those which were neces
sary when the machine was simply
gliding. For starting the machine,
a light steel rail some seventj-llve
feet long was laid on the ground. A
small carriage having two double
flanged wheels was placed on this rail
and supported the aeroplane. The
machine was steadied by one man
standing at oue side and holding it.
It was hitched to a post and held
while the motor aud propellers were
started. Then It was suddenly re
leased and allowed to shoot forward,
whereupon It would rise In the air
before the end of the rail was
reached. As the field was a compara
tively small one, approximately rec
tanguar in shape. It was necessary
to make sharp turns to keep within
its boundaries In making these
turns trouble was often experienced,
and there was a number of narrow
escapes from serious injury. It was
not till October of last year that the
brothers found out the cause of this
Instability, which was uot due to
instability of the machine so much
as the method of operating it. Soon
after this discovery, they were able
to make their flight of twenty-four
miles In thirty-eight minutes, or at
the rate of nearly forty miles an
hour.
By their method of starting on a
special rati the Wrights were able
to get In the air with the expenditure
of much less power than would have
been needed If they had mounted
their machine on pneumatic-tired
wire wheels ruuuing on ball bearings
aud had run It along ou a smooth,
hard road. The pull of a machine
mounted aud run in the latter uian
ner, as is well known, Is several timet
greater than that of one mounted in
the former way. This would account
for the excessive power required by
Santos Dumont to got his aeroplane
In the air, as he ran his macne on
pneumatlc-tlred wheels on turf,
where the resistance was greater
still. It does not explain his com
paratively low speed when once he
was In the air, however, and this can
only be explained by the great re
sistance of his machine and the In
efficiency of the propeller.
One of the chief points wherein
the Wrights claim to have made a
marked Improvement lies In the de
sign of their propellers. Instead of
propellers giving forty to fifty per
cent, efficiency, they estimate that the
new screws which they have designed
give fully seventy per cent efficiency.
There is one Important point
wherein the brothers do not agree
with Langley, vis., regarding a plane
traveling at a very high rate of speed
carrying a greater load with the ex
penditure of less power than whon
traveling at a lower rate of speed.
That It will carry a greater load they
admit, but t,hat less horse-power will
be required to drive It Is contrary to
the law of atmospheric resistance,
which Is that the resistance Increases
as the square of the velocity. As a
result of this, they find that the
weight carried per horse-power ex
pended varies Inversely as the speed.
At thirty-eight miles an hour, they
were able to sustain sixty-two pounds
per horse-power. Consequently, at
twenty miles an hour, they could
sustain about 125, or at seventy-five,
only about thirty. With their new
motor, the Wright brothers are con
fident of driving their large aero
plane, with one man aboard, for a
continuous distance of 500 miles at
an average speed of not less than
fifty miles an hour. Their past suc
cesses would seem to give promise
that they will accomplish the feat,
It not at the first trial, at least lo
the uenr future.
THE QIEIIIST.
DARING OF THE DYNAMITE MAN
Thnwing Out the Explosive the Dan
gerous I 'art of His Work.
"Some day I guess 'twill get me
We never know."
J. B. Boone, professional powdet
man, dynamite and nitroglycerin
handler, moved cautiously about a
fire as he talked. At his feet lay
fifty pounds of dynamite frozen. He
was at a stone quarry at Courtney,
Mo., where the night before 500
pounds of his materials had explod
ed. And he had built the fire to
thaw out more.
"This is the dangerous part of the
work," he said. "The jar of a cinder
popping from the fire, striking that
dynamite, would make It explode. A
twig snapped against it or some ob
ject dropped upou it would bring the
end. Dynamite is not exploded by
heat. It requires some jar some
friction. When It is frozen and it
freezes sooner than water it is fair
ly safe to handle. But In thawing,
the warmer it becomes the more sen
sitive It Is. When these sticks are
warm a dime dropped upon them will
make them explode. It's a danger
ous business."
No screen was between the dyna
mite and the fire where the "powder
man" worked. If he feared that fatal
cinder popping from the dry sticks in
the fire be did uot show it. In a
methodical, careful woy this grave,
quiet man worked swiftly and silent
ly by the fire.
"I began it with my father when
I was fifteen years old," he said.
"More than twenty years now I've
been a powder man, and well, I'm
here to-day, anyhow."
But he would venture no prediction
for the morrow. Kansas City Star.
Soiin fif the Forest.
Big Meadow flourishes under a
benign and patriarchal government.
The forest ranger is the head of it.
In "The Pass" Stewart Edward White
gives the forest ranger's Idea of edu
cating a boy.
in u grove near the camp was an
out-of-door smithy und wood-working
shop. There every conceivable Job
of repair and manufacture was un
dertaken. While I was watching the
ranger bluing a rifle sight one of the
younger boys brought up a horse and
began rather buugliugly to shoe the
animal.
"The boy is a little Inexperienced."
I ventured to suggest, after a time.
"Aren't you afraid he'll lame the
horse?"
The ranger glanced up. "Every
one of the boys has to do his own
shoeing and repairing of all kinds,"
said he. "He's been shown how, and
he'll just have to learn. I made up
my mind some lime ago that 1 would
rather have a horse weak In bis hoot
than a boy weak in his Intellect.
"I have eight boys of all ages, and
I've given a lot of thought to them,"
he coutinued. "They are getting the
best education 1 can buy for them;
a man does not gel far without it.
And then, besides, 1 am teaching
them to be thorough, and to do
things with their hands as well as
with their heads. Turn 'em loose,
that's the way to do it Teach them
to take care of themseu-es. and then
they will. Why, the youngster is all
over the hills, aud he is only six years
old."
I said that the day before wa had
seen him over the divide.
"Yes, and some day when he gets
left over a divide somewhere by acci
dent, he'll get back all right; and
when he grows up he will be more
fond of divides thuu of pool-rooms
and saloons."
Certainly these supple boys could
all pass examinations In the Arabic
education of a man, "to ride, shoot
and speak the truth."
fa it ladylike to giggle?
Is it ladylike to wink?
Ia it ladylike to ride a horse astraddle?
Is it ladylike to wiggle?
Ia it ladvlike tn dnnk?
Is it ladylike upon the beach tn paddle? .
Is it ladylike tn mutter?
Ia it ladylike to atare?
la it ladylike tn do those fancy dances? .
Ia it ladylike to sputter
Ia it ladylike to awear?
Ia it ladylike to ue expressive glances?
Ia it ladvlike tn gurgle?
Ia it ladylike tn joke? '
Is it ladylike to bona) nt being wealthy?
Ia it ladylike to burgle?
Ia it ladylike to amoke?
Is it ladylike to know that yon are healthy?
Is it ladvlike to ahiver?
Ia it ladylike to weep?
h it ladylike to walk through foreata ahadyf
Ia it ladylike to quiver?
Is it ladylike to peep!
I it ladvlike to like to be a lady?
W, D. Ncsbit. in Life.
71 k
She "My dear, why did that man
come up to you the other night so
mysteriously and touch you as he
did?" He "I suppose because he
thought he needed the money."
Baltimore American.
"There's a statesman," said an ad
miring citizen, "who is Incapable of
deceiving the public." "Well," an
swered Senator Sorghum, "that de
pends more or lesa on how smart the
public Is." Washington Star.
Tn telephone or telegraph
Is always futile labor;
If you'd spread news just notify
Your wife to teleneighbor.
Puck.
Towne "Yes, Galley Is a vestry
man of our church." Browne
"Really? He doesn't behave as if he
belonged to any church." Towne
"That's so; he behaves as If the
church belongs to him." Philadel
phia Press.
"Poor Miss Sere! she spent fifty
cents yesterday for a dry old scien
tific book called 'Best Methods of
Filtration. The idea! What did
she want with that?" "She thought
It was 'Flirtation.' " Philadelphia
Press.
American Tourist (suspiciously)
"Say, guide, haven't we seen thia
room before?" Guide "Oh, no.
monsieur." Tourist "Well, see
here. Wo want to see everything,
but wo don't want to see anything
twice." Punch.
"Do you enjoy delivering speeches
to your constituents?" "Oh, yes,"
answered the statesman; "only It
hurts mo to have some of them say
that speeches are the only kind of
goods I can be relied upon to deliv
er." Washington Star.
Patience "In Bohemia courtships
are abnormally long. In that coun
try engagements frequently last
from fifteen to twenty years." Pa
trice "A love story In print over
there must look like a Carnegie li
brary." Yonker8 Statesman.
Teacher "What is the meaning of
'aperture?' " Class (In chorus)
"An opening." Teacher "Tommy
Smith, give a sentence containing the
word 'aperture.' " Tommy "All the
big stores have had their fall aper
tures." Baltimore American.
They've cornered our food and our fuel
Till the householder loudly complaius,
And now, what's especially cruel,
They're trying to corner the brains!
Washington Star.
The Rev. Mr. Coldwater (vehe
mently) "No, sir; this country will
never be fit to live In until it has
more churches than dram shops."
Alderman O'Donegul "Well, who's
hinderin' ye from bulldin' more
churches?" New York Weekly.
"You are anaemic," says the phy
sician, after much thumping and
prodding. "You should practice deep
breathing." "Deep breathing" re
torts the patient. "Why, doctor,
that's just what I do all the time. I
work In a subcellar. sixty feet below
the street level." Judge.
American School Children.
According to the report of the
Commissioner of Education for the
fiscal year ended June .10, 1D08, there
were in the United states at that
time 22,665.001 childreu between the
ages of five and eighteen, of whom
18,187,918 were enrolled In public
or private schools or colleges, or in
special Institutions of a more or lesa
educational character. Thus, during
the period mentioned more than
twenty-two per cent, of our entire
people were at school or college, and
their oducatlon cost for that one year
161, 467,62o, or $3.16 per capita of
population. To-day our educational
system is even larger, and tho ex
pense of maintaining It greater still.
North Amerloan Review.
Put Your Money in a Bank.
Speaking of the b.inks reminds us
that there are yet some people In
this country who have a little money
on hand and consider It safer in the
bureau drawer, in old stockings, or
under the bed-clothes than it would
be In a bank. In this idea of the
safe-koeping of money they are di
rectly opposed to the ideas In prac
tice by the business worfd. Tho men
who have most risk with money
that is, those who have most money
to risk always deposit It In auk
for safe-keeping. If the most suc
cessful business men adopt this as
the safest plan, surely a man with
only a small amount of mousy can
safely afford to follow such ex imple.
Don't keep your money at home. It's
not safe there, and it makes it more
risky for your owu personal safety.
A burglar who Is mean enough to rob
you of your money is mean enough
to kill you. If it's noceKsary to get it.
If you deposit It subject to check
you don't have to even go to the
bank for it, but you take your check
book und write a check for any
amount uot exceeding the amount of
your deposit, and any business matt
will accept It same as cash. Bank
ing Is the business way, the sensible
way, and the safest way of keeping
money. Marshvllle Hone.
Real Life In New Zealand.
A condensed Clark Russell novel In
real life is reported in the latest New
Zealand papers. Tho Pacific trading
stoamer Tavlunl has arrived in Auck
land with two members of the crew
of the Lord Templeton, a ship that
was voyaging from Newcastle to
Honolulu. They were Englishman
and the rest of tho crew were foreign
ers. Fights and quarrels among the
latter wero so frequent sad violent
that the Englishmen found life on
board intolerable. So one ulght in
mid-Pacific they seized a small boat
and quietly left. They visited vari
ous Islands aud were kindly treated
by the natives. After many adven
tures they reached Papeete, the prin
cipal French tradins cent's in rhe
Pacific. Thire they were picked t
by the Tavluni and brought lo Ak
land. London Chronicle.