V - .. .. ' Ruby/R.F.D. By W. F. BRYAN. Copyright. 1307, by C. H. SutclifTe. Q jl Across the flelds the heat waves shimmered "like on Invisible jelly," as Dabney Forbush put It to his sister. "1 wouldn't goto town with the handsomest man in tlie postal serv ice," he declared laughingly as Ruby firmly stamped a tiny foot on the floor. *1 don't think you're fair to the poor chap," he went on, more seriously. "Suppose he becomes so hopelessly In love that at the end of the season, when you go back to town, he finds the I'arkvale girls dull and uninterest ing. Perhaps he will commit suicide." "I wish you would keep quiet," said Ruby hotly. "I have togo to town to get some silks for that sofa pillow I am making for you. If Mr. Perkins Is so kind as to take me in, you should be grateful to him." "If It's for that class pillow you're making for me, I'll go In after it my "l WANT TO SAY GOODBY TO TOD ITEHE OiDEB TUB THEES." self," offered Dabney. "It will save Perkins the trouble of hitching up and driving back here again. That's no part of his postal labors." Ruby stamped her foot again. "I think you are perfectly horrid.'' she declared. "Just as though you could pick out the right colors!" "A ruau ought to know his own class colors," Dabney defended. "You say I never do anything for you, and then when I offer to take a hot trip to town anil walk all the way back you call me horrid. Here comes Peter Perkins now. I guess I'll slide Into the house. <!reat emotions always up set me." lie dodgeil into one of the low win dows before ltuby could reach him with Ihe cushion she had caught up from one of the chairs, and his mock ing laugli rang out as the girl gave a little shake to her ruffled plumage and started down the shady walk to the gate. The ramshackle wagon used iu the rural free delivery service was just drawing up to the block, and she climbed ligli!' to a place lieside the stalwart young fellow, whose glad smile showed all too plainly ihe pleas ure he felt. "II was awfully good of you to come back this way for me." she said after her hand had lingered an instant in his muscular grip. "Dab does make such a martyr of himself when he doeri any thing for me, and Mr. Slocum will not let us have the horses iu the harvest ing season." "I was only too glad to come back," said Perkins simply. "You can't blame Slocum nbout the horses. He needs them all just now. If you come to a real farmhouse to spend the sum mar, you cannot expect a livery outfit like those places where the biggest crop they raise is summer boarders." "It has been such a real summer," she said smilingly. "I hate the round of fashionable hotels. This has been Ideal." "Parkvale is a pretty nice place," he said reflectively. "I don't know when I ever spent a more pleasant summer myself." "You have done a very great deal to ward making tilings pleasant for uie," said Ruby. "I don't know when I ever saw Dabney so disobliging. If it had not been for you, I don't know what I should have done." "We are supposed to he polite," lie reminded. "It's in the regulations." Ruby wondered if the regulations re quired him to hitch up a fresh rig and drive her back to the farm after her purchases were made, ns he had done a score of times. From the first she had been attract ed to the handsome young driver of the rural delivery. lie was so unlike the men she knew In town. She shud dered at the name of Peter Perkins. It did not match his manner or his appearance, but she had almost for gotten his name except when her brother teased her about It. At firet Ruby had simply utilized her inherent flirtatious Instinct, but later she had come to realize that she loved the mall driver, and at times the knowledge frightened her. Peter broke the silence. "You'll be going back home pretty soon now, won't you?" he asked. Ruby nodded. "We expect to leave Saturday. Dab ney must visit an uncle from whom he has expectations, and mother wants trie to come to her for a few weeks. Bhe Is In the mountains." "I'm glad that you're going,"he said ibruDtly. ! "Glad!" Ruby turued in her seat to i face him. "I don't think that you are very polite!" she cried. "I couldn't bear to think of your be ing here after I am gone," he exclaim ed simply, j "You are going?" she asked. "I thought you lived here." "I was here only for the summer," he explained. "I must go back home too." "I suppose you will irry pleasant recollections of this dedghtful coun try," she said. "I know that I shall always remember this summer most 1 pleasantly." "I want to 112 take away something else," ho said slowly. Ruby turned her face away and let her gaze wander : over the fragrant flowering buckwheat. "I want to take with me your promise ( that some day I may come for you," he went on—"that some day I may come and claim you for my bride, j May I, dear?" Gently Ruby drew from his grasp ! the hand he had seized. Her heart i cried "Yes," but there came into her mental vision the prospect of her am ! bitlous mother. Mrs. Forbush would uever consent to their union, and Mrs Forbush could make life very unpleas- i ant when she elected. I"I am sorry," she said softly, "but 1 j 1 cannot answer you as you want me to. j I shall always rememlier most pleas : antly tills happy summer. Please do j not nsk more of me." "You do not love me?" he demanded | ! bluntly. "I do like you," she said. "I—l can j not say more." Peter liicked his horse with his whip, and the pAtk-ni animal jogged ou. He spoke no more of his love, and Ruby was grateful to him. She went about her shopping while J Peter drove over to the postofflce to report. When he returned to meet bet It was with a livery rig. "I cannot use the delivery horses now," lie explained. "I am no longer I working for the contractor. Shall we go home by the river road?" Her eyes made answer. The river road was the longest and prettiest and she would not deny herself this last i trip with the man she loved. Toinor- ! row he must pass out of her life. To- ! night she wished only that she might I drive on and on far into the soft sum- j i mer night. But Peter kept the horse at a trot, and presently they were at the farm, j He was a favorite with Mrs. Slocum, j and she insisted that he come in and ! take supper with them. Ho lingered { in the gloom of the trees until the moon was high, but at last he had to go. "I want to say goodby to you hern under the trees," be said as he rose to his feet. "After I have harnessed up the whole family will come out. I am sorry you could not say 'Yes,' dear, but I do not blame you, aud I shall always love you and cherish the memory of 1 this summer." He bent over her and lightly brush : ed her forehead with bis lips. Then he strode off toward the barn, and pres ently she heard the grating of the bug gy wheels upon the graveled walk. There was the sound of voices as he took farewell of the group on the back porch, and then the carriage came down the drive and turned into the road. For a nioineut the world seemed to stand still for Ruby; then she leaped from the hammock and went flying down the dusty road after the buggy. "Peter! Peter!" she called softly. "Come back. It was all a mistake. I do love you, and I will marry you. no matter what mother suys." in an instant he had sprung from the buggy and had her in liis arms. Dab ney came running up. "1 want to be the first to congratu late you, old man,"he said as he grasp ed Peter's hand. "I knew you'd win, even if sis does hate all the men I know." "All the men you know!" gasped Ruby. "This is Pennington, Pete Penning- ! ton," he explained, "my roommate at college. He took the job to meet you without the disadvantage of my in dorsement." J "I would have loved him anyhow," i declared Ruby stoutly, "millionaire or | R. F. I). clerk, as you like." When You Are Bilious. The only salvation for the person with a torpid liver, according to What j to Eat, Is through a changed system of ' dietectlcs, combined with exercise In | the outdoor air, calisthenics and deep breathing. The person with a bad liver should habitually practice deep and long breathing, filling the lungs at ' each inhalation. The curative dietary I must consist principally of nerve or brain food, including fish and a reason | able amount of beef, with generous quantities of cereal foods and the, fruits that are rich in acids. In warm i weather it is best to abstain from j milk altogether. Butter and vegeta ble fats, olive oil, boiled rice, baked i ; apples, baked potatoes, graham or j J whole wheat bread, soft boiled eggs, all constitute a safe aud nourishing diet for the bilious person. At the first symptom of biliousness squeeze the juice of half a lemon In the water you drink just before breakfast and before going to bed at night. Tastes In Tobacco. There's no accounting for tastes. Take tobacco, for instance. The man who smokes a pipe wants to commit murder if he gets on the back platform of a car and finds a callow youth smoking a ready made; cigarette. He suifl's disdainfully every j time the offensive odor gets into his nostrils, and the youth's features bear a look of dlsgnst If he gets a whiff of what he considers an evil smelling pipe. The cigar smoker may smoke both pipe and cigarettes, but usually he ah hors both. The man who smokes Havanas will throw away a domestic after a couple of puffs, provided the friend who gav< It to him is out of sight. The cigar smoker will scorn a stogie The confirmed smoker of stoglel doesn't give a rap about a "good" cl gar. The smoker of "good" cigars will say It Is because his taste has degen erated from smoking an Inferior grad« of tobacco. And then again there Is the man who will smoke any old thing that will burn.—Milwaukee Free Press. ir=-- - —fc Miss Deakins' Dog. • By Philip Kean. Copyrighted, 1007, by Homer Spragoe. ,71 k "jenks," said Miss Deakins, "don'l go across the hall again." Jenks flopped down on the door mat '■ and sighed, canine fashion. "You understand?" said Miss Dea-1 41ns. Jenks wagged a disconsolate tail *nd closed his eyes. "Very well," and Miss Deakins went\ In and shut the door, withdrawing from Jenks the vision of her trim fig ure, enveloped in a blue linen apron, down the front of which traveled splotches of paint. Jenks, outside on the mat, heard a j faint whistle and lifted one ear. Then J he whined softly. A door opened across the hall. "Cut It and run, Jenksle," said a masculine voice. Jenks yawned eagerly, but did not move. "Come on," wheedled the man on the ! other door mat Jenks stood up and wagged his tall, j There wns a "get thee behind me, Sa- J fun," protest In his attitude, coupled with yielding. And just then Miss Deakins opened , her door. "Were you calling my dog?" she de- j manded. "Yes. You don't mind, do you?" The, man came toward her ns he said It | He wore a shabby velveteen coat, and the paint stains matched those on Miss Deakins' apron. "I do mind," Miss Deakins assured ! him. "Jenks has been taught to lie on his mat until 12 o'clock. Then he has his lunch with me." "Such beautiful regularity," murmur ed the man in the velveteen coat. Miss Deakins flushed. "I don't see why he wants always to goto your room." "Of course you don't see," he agreed, "but—but Jenks is rather fond of me"— "You give him ham bones," she ac cused him. "I do. There are some people and some dogs to whom you have to give things in order to make them love you. Perhaps Jenks is not that kind of dog. Perhaps be may have a soul above "TRBBIS'S A FIBE ESCAPE FBOM MY WHf- IHJW." ham bones. Perhaps without ham bones Jenks might love me. Psycho ' logically it's interesting, but I don't want to put it to the test. I value Jenks' affection too highly to seek the cause." "I'm too busy," she reminded him, "to talk in the abstract. And I'd rath er you didn't call Jenks." "Very well," he said formally and went back to his room anil shut the door. Miss Deakins stood Irresolutely on her door mat, with Jenks by her side, and looked at the closed door. There was red in her cheeks and there was a tremble In her voice as she said to the dog: "Come on, Jenks. I'm sorry you can't be trusted, but you can't." And as they entered the shabby little room, lighted Into whiteness and glare ►>v n trreat skylight she went on."I don't believe I can trust anyoouy, noi even a dog. Jenksle." She painted all the afternoon, and aa the twilight came on she sat and looked out over the roofs, and Jenks sat beside her with his cold nose in her hand, and when a big star shone 1 over the top of the highest building | she said, "I'm like the Miller of Dee, 'I care for nobody, no, not 1, and no body cares for me.'" Just then there came a knock at the door. When she opened it no one was there, but on Jenks' mat was a bunch of lilacs, such as one buys at the cor ner stands. As she filled all her bowls and vases Miss Deakln sang a little song, and be fore slie finished there came another knock at the door. "What were you singing?" asked th» man from across the way. "You know—the 'Spring Song,'" she told him Icily. "I have" just painted a little picture of spring," he paid Ingratiatingly. "May I show It to you?' It was a water color—Just a stretch of young flelds, with a sweep of or rhard beyond, but It made her catcb her breath. "I can almost sniff the fragrance," was her Impetuous comment "It Is beautiful." "That Is the way the world is look ing outside the city," he said, with en- ; thusiasm. "There are violets and pus sy willows, and the birds are calling let me take you out there tomorrow. It will do you good. You are so pale"— She froze at that. "Certainly not" she refused and spoke with sternness to Jenks. "Jenks," she said, "I told you not to ••oss the hall. ant nn wnnrllv from the oppo site door mat. "I don't see why you won't be friends," the painter sigd as he stood, irresolute, with his picture in his hand. "I have my work, and nothing must Interfere with my career." "But we have lived opposite each other for six months." • "It would be the same If we had liv ed opposite each other for six years," was the way she closed the discussion. More stars were.out when she again sat with Jenks by the window and the moon flooded the world with light, but over the roofs she caught the glow of a different illumination, a red, murky glow, that flared up presently Inta flumes and columns of rolling smoke. "It's a fire, Jenks," she told the dog. Jenks whined. "It's down the street," was her fur ther information, and then in a sudden panic, "Ifs in the next house, Jenk sle." With the dog close behind her she ran to the door. The hall was full of smoke. Through it she saw the man across the way. "We can't get down," he said quick ly. "The stairs are on flre, but there's a flre escape from my window." He caught her in his arms, and be fore she could protest they were de scending the ladder. From the window above Jenks whined. "Oh, we can't leave Jenks," Bhe cried. "Lot me go. Let me go." lie held her firmly nnd called up to the dog, "Walt a minute, old boy, I'll be back." When she was safe and looked up through the smoke to where the pa tient little animal was waiting she said: "Oh, if you should be killed. It is better that Jenks should—go"— But he was already on the ladder. She covered her eyes with her hands, and then she knew nothing until a shout went up nnd some one said, "He's got the dog." There was another long Interval, and then she felt something warm and wet on her checks, nnd there was Jenks licking her face, and she threw her arms about his neck and cried. And presently she held out her hand to the man who had saved him and said in a weak little voice: "lie shall sit on your door mat all the time If you will let him." "There isn't any door mat," he told her. "It's burned up. But I'll buy an other"— She smiled at that, and her eyes as they met his held in them all the promise of friendship and more than friendship that was to come. THE POOR CAT. One Occasion When the Animal Did Not Come Back. When the cat died the whole family Went into mourning, figuratively if not literally. No common hack door cat this, hut one that must be buried with all honor. The question was how and where. Some one proposed cremation, but this was rejected on the ground that It sounded too mucji like lynching. It was finally proposed that the father, who had to cross a ferry every day to his place of business, should drop it overboard, nnd as n burial at S4M rath er appealed to the sentimental attitude of the family this idea was received favorably. The following morning the remains of the cat were made into a package and securely tied. It was a lovely day, and the ferryboat was crowded with passengers, and what had seemed so simple at home assumed unexpected difficulties In the face of a curious crowd, ready to Imagine anything and to put the worst construction on an ap parently mysterious action. Finally it occurred to the father that the best time would be the evening, nnd he could slip the cat overboard without attracting notice in the dusk. Through the day It occupied a corner of his office, and he was glad when the time came for the return trip. He waited until the boat was well out in tho stream and then, glancing around furtively, laid his hand on the package. Suddenly it struck him what would seem strange in broad daylight would seem doubly so at night. With a smothered groan he replaced it on the seat beside him. There was no help for it—ho would have to carry it home again. As he took his seat in the train that was to convey him the rest of the way he placed the cat on the shelf above his head and for the first time that day forgot ail about It. Hurrying to get off the car when he reached his destination, he was halted by some one behind him, who thrust into his hand the 111 fated package. When he reached his house he threw it down on a chair In the hall and went into supper. In tlie middle of it the maid came In and asked how 112" » should cook the meat he had brought with him?" "Meat!" he exclaimed. "That isn't meat ! It's"— But at this moment the maid pro duced the package and showed him a choice piece of meat. History does not say what the man said who got the cat.—New York Sun. Bxpl icit Instructions. Two New York girls recently were ordered by their mother to join her in a mining camp about a day's journey from the City of Mexico. The girls wore to travel to Vera Cruz by steamer and then by rail to the capital, where their father was to meet them. As they never had been in that country before they wrote to their mother ask ing what sort of clothes they should bring with them. By return mall they received a breathless sort of an epistle telling them to lie sure and start from New York by a curtain date, but as to the clothes question, the only reply was, "Be sure and have your riding habits of the sort of brown that will harmonize with the atmosphere here." —New York Press. The Meanest Man. "About the meanest inan I ever knew," Bald an old time Clevelander, "was a man out at the edge of town that I used to pick cherries for when I was a kid. He objected to the boys eating any of the cherries, and he used to crawl around under the trees after we got through and gather up all the seeds be could find that we had dropped while up In the tree*. Then he would charge us up with that many cherries." —Cleveland Plain Dealer. I > Q A Rowing j Lesson. By Jane LutUum Lee. Copyright, 1907, by J. Morgan. I > —o Tome along, Dora, and I'll take you |ir a row on the sound. You have ilarned Btoeklngs until I have the fidgets." "I thought you did not know how to row, Julia. At least that Is what you told Colonel Winston the other when he asked you to row him overdo that coal barge of his." "I wasn't going to row that big tat colonel across Puget sound Just to ex ercise my muscles, and a little wWto fib now and then won't hurt anybody. Come along." Dora finally gathered up her stock ing bag and, with a suggestion of "take your life in your hand" expres sion, started down the hill with Julia. Several of the hotel employees weic about the float and helped the glrle to find a boat that was fairly clean. One of them stepped up, saying: "Are you going to row yourself. Miss Abbot? Puget sound Is a bit tricky at times, and the harbor is pretty full of boats Just now. Better tako a man along/' "I don't want a man along. ThaWs Just why lam going for a row—to gat rid of the men. The piazza Is full of them, and anyway Mrs. Mills and I are both good swimmers. Push her off, John." Julia seemed to pull a pretty good stroke for a girl who hail said in pres ence of witnesses that she could not row, and soon Dora's frightened ex pression had faded Into one of content as a soft breeze blew across her fore head. "I thought you couldn't row, Julia." "Of course I can row. Who ever heard of a college girl that couldnt? You see, 1 went to Cornell, and we gi; Is had a rowing club to compete with the boys. Fred—you know Fred. "WAS THEIiE MIIVKT XX THK lIAO OR JEWELS ?" don't you? Well, he used to coach mo on Saturdays, and that Is how I have such a good stroke." "Do you mean Fred Conroy that went to Japan last year?" "Course I do! Whom did you think I meant?" "I thought you never mentioned his name any more. I know I referred to him a mouth or so ago. and you polite ly asked me never to refer to him in your presence again that lie was 'a dead one,' I think you said." "Well, ho Is dead—that Is, as far as I am concerned and, oh, Dora, I some times feel that maybe he really Is dead, and It's all my fault!" With this last remark Julia gave a couple of terrific pulls on the oars as If to emphasize the meaning of it, and crash the.v went into a little sailboat that lay at anchor. "Even if he is dead there is no use of our Joining him In this watery grave, Julia. Please look where you are going or I'll get out." "Did you think of walking ashore or driving, Dora?" "Well, I didn't want to <jome, Julia Abbot and vou know U- and I'll lust manK you to row me asnore ana leave me to my darning." "Oh, Dora, I'm sorry you're cross, and I'm sorry I said anything! Only the thought of Fred way out there in Japan nearly drives me crazy. I'll give you a lesson in rowing if you'll come over here and take one oar." After much persuasion and argu ment Dora began to collect her belong ings and tuck up her skirts prepara tory to moving over on the seat with Julia. The harbor was full of boats, and they had quite an audience, but Julia had made up her mind that Dora should take a lesson, and she bullied fier Into making the change. The boat lurched about as Dora came owr, and, with a scream, she pointed to a large bundle that fell overboard. "My stockings, my stockings!" she screamed, pointing frantically at the bag that was still floating. "Well, of all the sillies," exclaimed Julia, "to bring your darning with you in a rowboat. Walt a minute, I can reach it." She leaned over the edge of the l>oat, which was a small, round bottomed sSalr, lost her balance and darted over the side Into the water. Screams arose from all sides of "Woman over board!" while Dora set u» a frantic moan, wringing her hands, but not daring to move otherwise in her help less situation. In a second Julia was swimming to ward the bag, and laughingly she grabbed It. By this time several Bail ors were overboard to tier rescue, bat she refused all offers of assistance. She swam to the nearest large vessel, which was a tea barge from Japan that had anchored there to leave Its freight. "Won't you goto my friend?" she fiaid as they offered her assistance. "She Is really very much frightened. Please row her over here, and then we ean go home." Julia climbed up the gangway In her dripping raiment and sunk into a chair that the pilot offered her. The girl was a wreck In more ways than one. "I'll be all right In u minute," she said to the pilot—"Just as soon as I can get my breath. You see, my friend lost her bag overboard, and I—well, I just fell reaching for it. Awfully stu pid of me, wasn't It?" "Was there money In the bag or jewels?" asked the pilot with some concern. "Neither—just stockings," meekly re plied Julia as she held up to bis view an armful of sopping hosiery. "Stockings!" yelled the surprised pi lot. "What will women do next? Ha, 1 ha!" Turning around, he called, "1 say, Conroy, come along here and see what we rescued while I help the rest of the party aboard." Julia did not laugh, but sat up very straight when the name of Conroy was mentioned. How silly, she thought! 1 Conroy is a simple enough name, and ! she leaned back again in the easyl steamer chair. But not for very long.' A tall, pale and sickly looking face' appeared at the door, peering around In search of the rescued party. His glance finally fell upon Julia and met hers, and the college girl who had won medals for her bravery and muscle was just woman enough to faint as she gasped his name. In a moment or two he was at her Bide, Imploring her to look at him, while Mrs. Mills and the pilot seemed suddenly struck blind and walked around the deck. "Julia, my Julia! Darling, look at me once more that I may know It Is you! Water, you lazy dumbhead!" he called to a passing sailor. "Can't jrm see the lady has fainted?" The water seemed to iwlve ber, and she leaned back Into bis arms as she had done In the chair before. "Fred. It is Jnlla, or, rather, what is left of her. Let me rest in your arms a minute, dear, Just to make sure It'e you. Fred, dear, why are you sc pale?" "Just a bit of yellow fever, dear, but it put me in bed for a few weeks and gave me time enough to yearn for you: and to know that I could never be hap py without you, so 1 shipped with thle old tea vessel, and here I am. Will you give yourself to me now, dear?" "I cannot give you what Is already yocrs, Fred, only I hope for your sake that I'll moke a better wife than I die a rowing teacher." CUT THEM ALL OUT. Ill* Enemies One Is Likely to Meat In His Vocabulary. "In the dictionary of fools we find 'I ian'l' very often, plenty of 'ifs' and lots of words like 'luck' and 'destiny' and phrases like 'lf I only had time or a chance like other people!' " Did you ever think that many of the words and phrases which you constant ly use are your real enemies, that they leave their hideous pictures and black shadows In your mind? How many times have you been kept from doing a good deed by such phrases as "Oh, I can't do that," "I am afraid that that will not turn out well," "Oh, I know I can't do that," "Some body else cun do that a great deal bet ter," "I am afraid to try," "I haven't the courage," "I fear I shall take cold or catch some disease if I do this or that?" I believe that those two words, "I can't," have ruined more prospects and have kept more ability doing the work of mediocrity than any other two words in our language. "I am afraid of this or that" is a ter rible hinderer, a terrible blighter of ambition, a cooler of enthusiasm. All achievement and all efficiency de pend upou Initiative, and that is easily killed bj' the fear words, the words which express doubt and uncertainty. "By thy words thou shalt be justi fied, and by thy words thou shalt be condemned."—Success. VALUE OF WALKING. Benefits to Be Derived From This Form of Exercise. There is hardly an instance of a long lived man who has not been for the best part of his life a brisk walker and for some reason or other has had to take exercise pretty well every day. Biding is all very well and so are t other exercises, but there is nothing like a good walk, because It stimulates the blood and the muscles and necessi tates being in the open air. If those who complain of being stout would only think of this and never omit a dally constitutional they would be amply rewarded. It will keep them young and their figures presentable. It is simply a remedy that no one heeds to. Sitting about in the open air is all very well and is far better than sitting in the house, but it does not keep you in good health. It is quite another thing to over fatigue oneself. There is nothing bet ter than to get into a healthy perspira tion by walking. It la just like drink ing a glass of cold water in the morn ing. it is so simple no one believes In it. This may not suit everybody, but those it does suit it will keep in health. —Pittsburg l'ress. Help the Editor. An Oklahoma editor puts lorth this plea: "My friend, help the editor In his wide eyed search for news. When your friends come to you. if you are not ashamed of it. tell him; when your wife gives a tea party, if you will have recovered from the effects of the gossip, drop in with the news; when a baby arrives fill your pockets with cigars and call; if you goto a party, steal some of the good things and leave 'em with the item In our Banctum. If your wife licks you, come in and let us see your scars and tender sympathy through the paper. If your mother-in-law has died, don't be bash ful about it; give In all the common- j place news. In short, whatever i makes you feci proud, sad. lonesome or glad submit it to our twenty-four ; carat wisdom and see our matted lock j part and stand up on end with grati- j tnde, which will pour from every pore with moisture from a dew besprinkled ' earth."— Topeka State-Journal. r AN IMPLOSION. /" H la the Opposite of an Explosion and Less Familiar. Every one knows what an explosion Is, but its opposite, an implosion, is less familiar. At great depths in the sea the conditions are favorable for its production. At 2,500 fathoms the pressure is, roughly speaking, two and a half tons to the square inch—that is to say, several times greater than the pressure exerted by Ihe steam upou the piston of a powerful engine. An interesting experiment to illus trate the enormous force of this deep »ea pressure was made on the Alba tross, a government vessel engaged in deep sea exploration. A thick glass tube several inches In length full of air was hermetically sealed at both ends. This was wrap ped in flannel and placed In one of the wide copper cylinders used to protect deep sea thermometers when they are sent down with the sounding appa ratus. The copper cylinder had holes bored in it, so that the water had free access Inside, round the glass. The case was then sent down to a depth of 2,000 fathoms and drawn up again. It was found that the cylinder was bulged and bent inward, just as if it had been crumbled inward by being violently squeezed. The glass tube Itself, within its flannel wrapper, was reduced to a fine powder, almost like snow. The glass tube, it would seem, as it slowly descended, held out long against the pressure, but at last sud denly gave way and was crushed by the violence of the action to a fine powder. This process, exactly the reverse of an explosion, is termed an implosion. —Chicago Iteeord-llerald. MASTERY OF THE KILE. The Method by Which the Flow of Water Is Controlled. Every morning from a little room of a great white house on the eastern shore of the Nile at Assouan is clicked by telegraph to Cairo the question, "How much water?" The answer comes so many thousand gallons more or so many thousand gallons less. A button is pressed, the water which flows under the iron bridge at Cairo is Increased or diminished some ten days later in accordance with the telegraph ic answer, and the intervening valley between Assouan and Cairo has a lit tle more or a little less water on its surface. The man at the button may bring joy or sorrow to thousands of little farms—lt is all according to tha message be receives. From the great white house there extends a-cross the river a granite wail or dam 150 feet high. Halfway up this wall and stretching its entire length a line of shutters opens or closes by a pressure of the button. In the winter months a huge lake ex pands to the southward, which has ev ery appearance of being a flood, for in certain places the tops of palm tree ll are discernible above its surface, and the summits of inundated ruins appar ently mark the sites of sunken cities. As the days go by and Cairo demands more aud more water the palm trees and the ruins seem to rise from their watery beds until in June and early July the river flows freely with nil its historic Indolence.—New York Times. Three Layers of Atmosphere. It appears that in the atmosphere there are three distinct currents of air, the first lying at an elevation of from 000 to 1,500 meters, the second at from 2,500 to 4.000 meters and the upper one at from t?,000 to 8,000 me ters above the surface of the earth. These are to an extent separate cur rents, flowing each with its own ve locity. At the bottom of each of the layers the stratus clouds are formed, aud at the top of each of the layers occur the cumulus clouds. This sug gests that tlie stratus originate at the bottom of a moving current and the cumulus at the top. It is probable, then, that the stmtus owe their origin to the difference in velocity and tem perature of the two layers, while thu cumulus arc formed by ascending cur rents within the layer of air. A Timely Present. A certain colored gentleman recently saluted a large colored lady of the Amazonian type in the following lan guage: "Yuh's lookin' mighty fascinatin' this evenin", Sal." Sal hauled off and knocked him down. Then, looking him out of an Inclination to get up, she said. "Now, yuh Jest lav thar till 1 goes an' finds out what dat word 'fascinatin'' means!" Next day the aforesaid colored gen tleman presented the said Sal with a copy of Webster's Dictionary, say ing, "I might want ter salute yuh ag'ln, so Jes please look up the mean- In' of some of these heah eompliraen tation terms." Sal promptly refused to accept the present upon the ground that one* would have to kuow the word In or der to look it up.—New York Times. oBTHiI if! A Rollablo TO SHOP Tor all kind of Tin Roofing, Spoutlns and Ceneral Job Work. Stoves. Heaters. Ranges, Furnaces. eto. PRICES TIIE LOWEST! QIIILITY TBS BEST! JOHN HIXSON NO. 1H E. FRONT ST.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers