'! • I Namolo's "Blacking." j By LULU JOHNSON. J Copyrighted, 1907. by M. M, Cunningham. |j Silently the Japanese boy placed tnc tray on the table and waited, siphon in hand, to till the glasses. This cere mony performed, he retired noiselessly to the little nlclic dignified by the name of dining room. "I hope there is no war with .Ja pan," said Mosby. "What would a poor bachelor do if all the Jap boys had togo home to fight for their coun try?" "I should hate to lose Namoto." re peated Ned Bowen. "though 1 hope to be married long before there Is a chance of a war." "I speak for Namoto," said Mosby quickly. "If the happy event comes to pass I want you to let me have him. He is a paragon even among Jap boys." "Don't count your chickens before they are hatched." warned Bowen darkly. "Hank Sturgis Is invited out to Bayport, too, and"— "And It's nip and tuck between you two for Bess Rica by," completed Mos by. "What's the matter with kldnap tng Hank? You might lock him up In these rooms with Namoto to guard him and go ahead with plain sailing." "That's a little too strenuous," laugh ed Bowen, "but 1 tell you. old man, I wish I dared. If 1 could get Hank out of the way over Sunday I should stand a far better chance. With the two of us always trying to best the other man there*; is no chance for either." "Well, here's hoping that you win," toasted Mosby, draining his glass. "Let's go over to the club ana have a game of billiards." The two men left the snug bachelor apartment and In the game forgot their conversation. Saturday Bowen took his suit case and made for the train. He looked all around, but there was no trace of Sturgis. Until the last moment Bowen hung about the gate, but his rival did not put In an appearance, and Bowen gritted his teeth. Probably Sturgis had taken the "TOOK HERE!'* CALLED BOWKN. "TOC HAVE MADE A MISTAKE." morning train. If he had had the long afternoon with Bess Kicaby, no telling what the outcome had been. Boweu fretted over a magazine In the cafe car. chewing nervously on his cigar and chafing at the slowness of the train. They were on time as they pulled Into Bayport, but to Boweu It seemed hours late. His host. Mr. Mor ton, was waiting for him with a trap, ami as Bowen started toward the car riage Norton laid a hand upon his arm. "Hold on. old man,"he said. "Stur- I gls should be on this train." Bowen's spirits rose. Then Sturgis had not come down on the earlier; train, after all. He was ahead of his j rival. "Possibly he is detained In town," ' Bowen said. "I know that he Is not | «« thia ix>u 1 ■- > - *-» | him. He said he was coming down." 1 "Maybe he Is coming in his motor," j suggested the host, and Bowen's splr- , Its fell again. There was no other ! train until morning, and with the whole of the evening without Interfer ence he might hope to gain Bess' an swer. But Sturgis did not turn up In his motor In time for dinner, nor did any ' message come. The party broke up In 1 groups and pairs, and Bowen, to his great delight, found himself walking toward the shore with Bess. It was a moonlight night, and as j they watched the beams glint upou the water Bowen poured out the story of ; his love. The world seemed to staud still as he heard the murmured "Yes." ' and for the first time in the two years that he had loved Bess ltlcaby he felt certain of ljftiself. It had been a lively war between j himself and Sturgis, a constant strug- 1 gle for the one to offset the other and gala an individual advantage. Now he had won, and as they retraced their j steps toward the bouse he could afford j to feel almost sorry for his abseut rival. Sunday was a long, delightful day, but It came to nil end. like all good ' times. He must leave on an early | train In the morning and would not see Bess before going, but she was to run up to town In the midweek «>ad select the ring that should lie the ont> ward symbol of their love. It was with a light heart that he j seated himself in the train and spread j open the morning paper. Almost the j first thing that he saw was a black j type head In which Sturgis' name was j mentioned. He read it eagerly. News had been dull the day l>efur< . and ihe editors had made the most < j the sensational abduction of the well known clubman. The account was padded to two columns, but tbc lead ing facts were easily grasped. Sturgis had been waylaid on his way home 011 Prlday evening, A cloth thrown, oyer ins ueuu una preveuiea nm Btvn u „ captors, and nftor lie lind been bustled into a cab bo remembered no wore un til he came to his senses in a police I station forty-eight bours later. One of tbe park policemen had found him sitting 011 a bench near a secluded drive and had come to the prompt con ! elusion that the 1111111 was intoxicated. When the application of the nightstick to the soles of his feet failed in its usu al effect an ambulance had been called and the man was removed to the police station, where the surgeon had quickly brought liiin to consciousness, pro- 1 j nouncing the case one of opium poi i sonlng. A suggestion was offered that per- j haps a visit to Chinatown had been followed by overindulgence in opium smoking, but Sturgis declared that 110 i iiad ( never been in the Chinese quarter, but was on his way to his apartments 1 after an evening at the club. He had not had a very large sum of money on his person, nor was it his custom to carry large amounts nt any time, so that if the object was robbery the ab ; ductors had fared but badly. The afternoon papers advanced a new theory based upon Sturgis' slight resemblance to the head of a large trust company. It was argued that he might have been mistaken for the banker, and that it was the Idea of the abductors to hold the man for ransom. Discovering their error, they had taken the few dollars found in his clothes and had turned him loose In the park, i Sturgis was the center of attraction at the club that evening, and Bowen was one of those who listened to his story. It was late when he let himself into his apartment, but Namoto was up awaiting him. "You had a nice time?" he asked when Bowen was established by the window for his good night cigar, 112 "Fine," said Bowen, wondering at 1 the question. "You will be married soon'?" demand ed Namoto. Bowen stared. What could Namotc know about Bess? Then he remember ed his conversation with Mosby. Na moto, In the adjoining room, must have heard them. lie was so unobtrusive that Bowen had forgotten his presence. "I will be married in the fall," said Bowen. "Mr. Mosby wants you togo to him then." j "I got housekeeping account," said Namoto irrelevantly, presenting a siif of paper. It was their custom to have a settlement every Monday. "Look here!" called Bowen. "You have made a mistake. You have charged the rent to blacking." i "I have not paid the rent," said Na moto. "I bought blaekiug." I "Two hundred dollars' worth ot blacking?" gasped Bowen. Namotc nodded. "Two hnndred dollars," ho assured, i "Chinese blacking. Very good blacking 1 indeed." The stolid face did not change In ex presslon as Bowen stared, and Namotc repeated the explanation. Bowen gasp ; ed. Namoto had also overheard his I wish that Sturgis should not be at ! Bayport over Sunday and had engaged a Chinese tong to abduct Sturgis. Gravely Bowen counted out there j quired sum and added another hun ' dred. 1"It was well done," he said gravely I "but buy no more blacking." j Namoto refilled Bowen's empty glass. | "No more will be needed," he said | placidly. "I am glad you approve." Bowen stared after the retreating form. "Gee," he whispered to himself. 1 "I'm glad I didn't tell Mosby that 1 ! wished that Sturgis was dead." GOLD COINS. Why Bankers Don't Lik« Them and Prefer to Handle Paper. ! "Of the different kinds of American ■ money now In circulation the gold J coins of all denominations are the most | disliked In my business," said a proml j nent New York banker. "Take a greenback, a silver or a gold ! certificate or a national bank note to ! your bank and it is received and plac j ed to your credit without a moment's j \lelay. Not so with gold. A few days Ago a gentleman brought to our bank upward of $3,000 in gold of different denominations and was mucto provoked < because we would not receive it and ; give him credit with the amount the face of the coin represented. This we could not do because the law requires 1 that gold shall be redeemed only at its actual value. Coins carried in the pocket for any length of time naturally 1 lose something by abrasion—probably : but a fractional part of a cent on a ten dollar piece, but It Is a loss neverthe- I less—and therefore bankers cannot give ■credit for gold deposits until the coin 1 shall have been weighed. In the case < mentioned my friend took his gold tot the snbtreasury and was compelled to : wait there nearly an hour before he 1 could get notes for it. "Every coin had to be passed through the scales, and after the weighing proc- 1 ess had been completed three of the 1 coins—two five dollar pieces and a ten t dolar piece—were returned to him as ' short in weight. Before returning short ' weight coins the department stamps on 1 the face of each coin a cross. The ' owner Is either left to send the coins to the United States mint for redemption or again put them Into circulation. 1 Eventually the coins with crosses on their faces will goto the mint and be redeemed at their actual value. In ! many Instances there may not be more ' than several cents' shortage on SSO 1 worth of coins. Business men, how- ' ever, naturally object to the inconven- ' ience and get rid of their gold as fast ' as possible "—New York Press. Protest of *he Fat Mar. t "My friends." said the tat man plain- t tlvely, "moved, I suppose, by a desire t to appear jocose, always comment cu my weight whenever they run across, t me. It isn't that they note any alarm- 1 iug change In the number of pounds 1 carry about, for 1 have been what my ! tailor politely calls 'substantial' these many years. By the same token I have ! got so that I don't mind reflections on 1 my size—that is, I'm not particularly ' sensitive about it What does jar me, ' however, is the mental vacuity evi- j denced by the would be humorists i One comes to think that their impres j y sions of a person don't extend beyond his avoirdupois, and the sense of fun ; which leads them to voice these Im pressions Is certainly rather primitive ! And this Is tiring." the fat man con eluded.—New York I'ress. | The L&.W of ; I the Woods. | By SPENCER. C. GUNN. ? Copyrighted, 1907, by Ji sslo Morgan, < ] "Don't be a fool, Jeannette!" Timidly leaning away from the slap fling spray, she would have upset the skiff had not Bob acted quickly. But for his shouting and his angry look Jeannette would have rejected as Impossible the meaning which his words conveyed. Their harshness sur prised her into angry tears. There was an ominous silence. "How dare you"— But another wave, drenching her shoulders, caused her literally to swal low what else she would have said. Bob smiled lmpenitently as he dug his oars into one of his round, green foes. "I can't get down on my knees just now, Jeannette," he observed, "and if I could It wouldn't be to propitiate you." The girl's face blazed with a fire which the waters of Long lake had not cooled. They were still a good mile from the shore. Duck rock intervened without, however, offering a refuge from the storm. The flag on the boathouse dip ped and twisted like a handkerchief signaling distress. The black clouds whitened the foam. The lake was a darkened stage ready for some tragic deed. "What a boor you are, after all," she volunteered as she coolly unpinned her yachting cap and stooped to ball the water at her feet. "Um!" reflected Bob as he turned the boat into the teeth of the wind. "Can't you think of a more modern epithet? The Waverley novels were written some few years ago." "Y'es, Indeed, I can think of several," was the significant reply. "Um!" Bob commented, at the same time bringing the skiff away from the treacherous trough. A fresh squall now struck them. It was accompanied by a heavy shower which, like a translucent mist, all but hid the shore. The boat, swift as an arrow In smooth water and as fragile In a sea, was tossed like a leaf In an autumn gale. To keep It true, to say nothing of making headway, was a herculean task with which Bob strug lIESTED HEU LITTLE HAND ON TIM'S FL.AM NKL COVERED SHOULDERS, gled manfully. Jeannette seized his large felt bat the better to reduce the water now ankle deep about her. "What a temper you've got," Bob resumed. "I'm so glad to find It out no w." With the rain and spray streaming down her face and her pretty dress glued to her body, Jeannette continued to bail the intake, her arms moving with Increased vigor at Bob's persist ent abuse. "You're a coward!" She hurled the words at him against the gale. "Is that modern enough for you? Can't you see that I'm tired enough to drop?" Bob chuckled softly as he strove to keep the boat on even keel. "That's the way with all girls," he said cruelly. "Just as soon as they see dramatic possibilities In a situation they faint to heighten the effect When you fall, please keep to the center of the boat as much as possible." "Fool!" muttered the girl. Suddenly the skiff stopped, swayed and threatened to capsize. With the next big wave, however, and a mighty tug at the oars, It scraped over the wks tftlnn, OAK .-.pproftcooa i»~»» "V'II inn and had narrowly escaped Its submerg ed fringe. "Wasn't that fine?" he asked provok ingly. "I just enjoy rowing over rocks. It's easy If you know how." "Fool!" repeated Jeannette. "Um!" acknowledged Bob as he glanced quickly over his shoulder to gauge the distance to the shore. Not more than half a mile remained, but 11s the wind had been from the- west his efforts to meet it had doubled the distance to the landing. He could now take an oblique course, for the storm had suddenly passed and the sun was sending welcome heat to the dripping victors in tbe boat. The boathouse flag floated steadily. For some minutes they continued their strenuous labor and seemed un able to comprehend the fact of (heir safety, like dreamers awaking from Impending death. Then Jeannette ceas ed bailing and leaned back exhausted In the stern chair. Bob, barely dip ping the oars, also took a much needed rest. On the balcony of the boathouse a black and white group that had been watching anxiously the outcome of the fight waved hats and handkerchiefs. Halfway between the blue skiff nnd the shore were several skiffs, each manned by a guide. They, too, had been on watch, ready to respond to the frst sign of distress. There was still a heavy sea. but as the wind had been offshore tbe water heraing smnnthar I was nig run wno urai umieu cnem. \t .Teannetto's request he accompanied them to the shore. They landed on the sandy beach near her father's cottage. Jeaunette wished to avoid for the present the well meant congratulations of her friends. She ! knew that she looked more angry than thankful. Bob was Ignored entirely ] and walked silently but smilingly away. "Teh don't look very glnd, Miss Jean nette," ventured Tim as they hastened alone toward the cottage. With Tim no restraint was required. "Bob was beastly," she answered, with renewed anger. "How so?" pursued the guide gently. , "Why, Tim, he was cross and even ugly when at first I was frightened. Surely If we were to die we might have died friends. I shall never speak • to him again." Jeannette briskly climbed the« cottage stops as she delivered this ultimatum ! and fell almost fainting Into her fa- ! ther's arms. Tim followed the girl in- I to the cottage, his face grave with j suppressed concern. As Jeannette, as- I slsted by her father, began to climb | the stairs to her room Tim spoke up. "Hold on, Miss Jeannette!" "YeB?" she asked. "Bob wasn't really mean," he as serted, his bronzed face flushing with this unwonted forwardness. "What do you mean, Tim?" asked Jeannette, almost without patience. Tim slapped two big fingers convinc ingly In the hard palm of anothen, huge hand. "When a passenger gets scary In a storm," he said, with slow emphasis, "a guide cale'lates to do somethin' to j scare him worse, to take his mind off the water. Bob stung yeh instead, i It's all the same. Four years ago this summer I hit a millionaire with the i butt end of a gaff to keep him from j Jumpln' out of the boat. I told him I'd I use the other end If he stirred enough to shoo a fly—and I brought him in," ho concluded, with another slap of his fingers and a Jerk of his head. "It's the law of the woods," he added. When Jeannette understood she flew down the few stairs, leaned far over the newel post and rested hor little hand on Tim's flannel covered shoul ders. "Are you quite sure, Tim, that Bob ; was following that law?" she asked, ] looking searchingly Into his eyes, yet confident of the answer. "Sartin sure," vouched Tim solemn- j ly. " 'Twas a fearful 'blow,' and Bob I was only fightin' for your life, my little I gal." With eyes dancing with gladness, Jeannette leaned over farther until her wind blown hair brushed the guide's clean brown cheek. There was a whispered message and something ' which sounded like a kiss. Then Jean- I nette turned to her father, who smiled tenderly and with responsive Joy. "You won't forget, Tim, dear?" she admonished, half playfully, half In earnest. The guide looked up, the red blood showing through all his tan. "By the John Ilogers," he thundered as he hastened out, "I guess not!" THE PENGUIN. Comically Serious In Mating lt* Wicked Flippers. It is probable that penguins pair for life, although nothing definite is known on the subject. When mates are cho sen the process is as interesting as it is striking. As is the case with so many creatures, the males fight with each other for the females, might being right In the penguin code. The birds have regular fighting places, and one such battleground was found under an overhanging ledge. The results of innumerable encounters were present In the shape of great quantities of loose feathers surrounding the little fighting ring, which itself was clear of all debris. Although the beak of a pen guln is so formidable u weapon when used on thin skinned enemies, yet their own skin and blubber are so resistant that they can inflict no injury by this means. The customary mode of fight ing is really a kind of boxing, or "flip pering," it might be called The two combatants proceed to the fighting place mid then walk cautiously about each other, jockeying for an opening and ready to take instant advantage of a false step or move on the part of the opponent. All, however, is solemn and decorous, consistent with the rest of the life of these strange little beings. When at last each secures a good grip on the neck or body of the oppo nent the real fighting begins. As nine tenths of the life of penguins tit spent on the open sea. where they pursue and capture fish, swimming with great swiftness by strokes of the fllpperlika wings. It can well be imagined that tho strength of their wings is very great, and when the two fighters begin to belabor each other with rapidly vl bratlng flipper strokes each resounding whack must make a considerable lm presslon even on the protecting coat of blubber fat No one has ever recorded the finish of such an encounter, but It is not probable that they result fatal.y. The weaker of the two must soon suc cumb under such severe punishment and yield the field and the fair penguin mate to his stronger rival. The strength of the wing strokes can be tested by allowing a penguin to take hold of one's coat sleeves or, better, the back of the hnnd. The third or fourth stroke will draw blood, and one Is soon fully satisfied as to the pen guin's ability in this respect. The tough skin and the loose, rolling blub ber beneath, besides breaking n fall and protecting the bird from the icy waters In which It lives, sometimes subserve another most Important pur pose.—New York Tribune. Why He Is a Bachelor. "I've been very close to matrimony several times," remarked a confirmed j bachelor at au uptown club,"and very time my Inclination has been sidetracked by the same sort of Inci dent—the discovery of a trait which appears to be practically universal among the fair sex." "Drink?" asked the cynic. "No; the confidence game. Every woman I ever knew intimately was sure to relate to ine eventually some thing In 'strictest confidence,' which later it appeared had been told to her In 'strictest confidence.' 1 won't tie j up with a woman who does that." "Guess you'll die single, all right," said the cynic. "I'm sure of it," said the bachelor.— J New York Globe. 2 • j Cupid on [ The Fence.! : • By M. C. SANFORD. J • • • Copyright, 1907, by Jetisie Morgan. • i It was Friday afternoon. As usual, I Jack hail telephoned Elinor asking her lo go automobillng with him, and, not #t all as usual, she had said she would uot. Her refusal was unpremeditated and almost as much of a surprise to herself as it was to Jack, but sober second thought seemed to Justify it. It was foolish, so argued Elinor to herself as she hung up the receiver, to let Jack take so much for granted, to let him think she was always ready, as a matter of course, to answer his beck and call. She would show him a thing or two. There were other men to be considered, and she didn't Intend to inarry Jack any more than—well, perhaps not as much as she intended to inarry some one else! Still it was such a lovely afternoon, and she did so j love togo automoblling! The telephone rang again. "Hello," answered Elinor languidly. "Oh, Mr. Norris? Yes. Go automobll 'ng with you this afternoon? 1 shall be delighted. Three o'clock? All right I'll be ready. Goodby." Elinor clapped her hands and gave herself a little squeeze of congratula tion. Half nu hour later, her little round chin tilted saucily above the big blue bow of her gauzy veil, Elinor stood waiting on the porcli, a picture of pert uess and prettiness. At the "honk, honk," of an approach- I lug automobile she ran quickly down the steps to greet Vernon Xorris, but to her astonishment the car did n;t ' stop, and, looking after It curious-'.y, ! she dis overed that Jt was not Vernon, after all, but Jack, and—could she be lieve her eyes?—he was not alone! I There was a funny little tight feeling about Elinor's heart that she didn't i care to analyze. She turned her back 1 on the vanishing apparition of Jack, j and there on the top of the hill, like j a coming event that had cast Its shad- j ow before it (alas, that It was such a corporeal shadow!), she saw Vernon's car looming Into sight. Anyway, reflected Elinor, If Ver- ; non's auto wasn't such a beauty as Jack's, It was still an anto, and If S Vernon wasn't, perhaps, as handsome j as Jack, he was still a man, and when it came to a matter of comparison, a j man far more solicitous of her happi- j ness. Jack had a way of spinning 5 through the country without, appar- ; ently, the least consciousness of her presence beside him. Vernon, on the other hand, was always on the alert to rescue the wayward end of her veil, to inquire for her comfort and to ask what speed best pleased her present mood. With him she herself, not the machine, was the center of his thoughts. As a result of these reflections, Eli nor greeted Vernon with au unusually winsome smile and extended her hand , with charming graclousness, a favor which that young man. most natural ly, flattered himself was stimulated by Ills own Irresistible powers of at traction. Elinor followed up the cordiality of her welcome with such a chatter of merry talk as they went flying through the country and seemed so radiantly happy, that Vernon, bring ing the machine to a sudden slow down, simultaneously with his Inspira tion, decided to learn his fate then and there It proved most literally a popping of the question. His declaration was cut short with a sound as of spontane ous combustion. The noise. together with Vernon's unexpected proposal, took Elinor off her feet, both mentally and physically. As she sprang up Vernon caught her to him. "It's all right, dear." he murmured, with extravagant tenderness. "You're not hurt: only frightened." and he lift ed her veil so that he might look into her face. Elinor freed herself with effort. "No," she said, sadly. "I'm uot hurt —and I'm not frightened." She felt suddenly an Indescribable shrinking from the man. He had been too quick to take advantage of the situation. J Had it been Jack, be- Vernon Interrupted her of I thmiirht kv sboutlne to some men in i the distance ror neip. l ney nai not hear him. "Awfully sorry," he said tlnally. j "but I'm afraid I'll have togo across the fields for help. There's a farm house over there. I'm very much like Humpty Dumpty, you see. I don't know how to put myself together again." (Elinor saw. but somehow was not amused.) "Will you be timid here alone?" "Not at all," she answered firmly, ignoring the sentimental look In his eyes. "I won't l>o long." he assured her as he .lumped out of the car. "Stay '' Just where you are and make yourself comfortable. The car won't budge." After Vernon hail disappeared from e!ght. Elinor, not at all confident, in spite of his assurance, as to what the Inconstant auto might do next. Jumped ' out and perched herself on the post of a nearby fence. She was a most bewitching little vision as iihe sat there, her fawn col- 1 ored coat outlined against the green meadow background, and her filmy veil, which she had loosened, floating out airily in the breeze as if on Its way to Join the clouds in the blue sky above It. But Elinor was oblivious to the plcturesqueness of her plight. All she could think of was Its stupidity. Why. oh why. hadn't she gone with Jack? Oh, yes, she remembered she ' was teaching him a lesson, showing him his proper place, tempering his ( unwarranted and unendurable air of assnmption. Hum! Let's see, this , was August—it was Just six months . since she had met him, and he seemed j to think so brief au acquaintance en- , titled him to the privileges of many years. To be sure, she had been to , nearly every one of the Country club , dances with him—but he did dance so j divinely—and had gone autoing with , him every Friday afternoon for a mat- j ter of some eight or ten weeks. But , what of it? There were plenty of j . Dther.s craving her favor, and Just be- I , tause she happened to like Jack's ' | uanciug ana JHCK s aura fiercer tn«u anybody else's, was that any reason why he— Ilonk, bonk! The staccato breaking of the silence nearly caused Elinor to lose her bal ance. She gripped the top rail of the fence hard and watched the wild thing whiz by. Suddenly it began to slow flown, then It turned around and start ?d back again. Jack's car! Her heart gave a bound of happen-lief. Then it sank sickeningl.v as again she noticed some one beside him—a woman, but so heavily veiled that Elinor could not see her face. Jack brought the machine to a stand still beside its disabled contemporary, jumped out and looked about for its possible owner. He could scarce be lieve his senses when he saw Elinor perched in solitary misery on the fence. "Why, Elinor." he cried In astonish ment. "what has happened?" "Nothing much, thank you, Mr. Wil liams," answered Elinor distantly. "Just a slight accident. Mr. Norris has gone across the fields to get some assistance. He will be buck In a min ute. Don't stop, I beg of you." But .Tack was used to having his own way and was already underneath .Ver non's machine investigating the cause of the trouble. Meanwhile between Elinor and the veiled lady In the other car there was an exchange of furtive glances, but none of civilities. "She's all right now," exclaimed Jack, emerging soon. "Just got tired of going so fast and thought she'd J give you two a little surprise. Which I way did you say Norrls went?" | Before Elinor could reply Jack had run up the road a short distance and j stood looking intently through his field glasses at a speck of a figure hurrying toward them. "That's Norrls now," he called back to the veiled lady. "Say, Nora, sup : pose you get into his car and run up Ito meet him. It will give him a jolly good surprise to lie rescued by his own I machine. I'll stay with Miss Ken ! dall." I The veiled lady answered with a | cherry "All right, Jack," that made El j Inor wince and shifted with easy agil ity from one car to the other. As soon as the machine had a good ! start Jack, with a leap and a bound, ! made for the fence. He landed with a , jump directly In front of Elinor anil I stood looking up at her wistfully, j "On which side of the fence are you going to jump, dear?" he asked gently, j "On the other," replied Elinor, with ■ a little gasp. But she did not, for Jack took her ' in his strong arms and. heedless of her protestations, ran with her to his ma j chine, which he set going at full speed, i When Elinor had regained her equi librium and her breath, she assumed, an Injured expression wholly out of keeping with the tumult of joy In her heart. "Who is the other woman?" she ask ed frigidly, though what did it mat ter now? Jack laughed heartily. "My cousin Nora and yours to be, dear. I had to get some one to ride with me. you know." Elinor looked up at him shyly. ; "Do you think they'll catch up with ( us?" she asked. Iter eyes sparkling with happiness. "Probably won't try to, "chuckled •lack. "You see, Nora's steering that machine, aud Vernon will have to fol low her lead. She's had her cap set for him ever since she came to totvn. ' She wasn't having a bit of a good time with me. But suppose they should overtake us, Elinor." continued .lack, with mock anxiety, "would you like to change back again?" "No. Jack." replied Elinor softly. "I've made uiy jump, aud I'm ou your side of the feuce forever." WARSHIPS AT NIGHT. From the First Call at Sundown to the Mournful Taps. The routine of life ou a battleship Jt night will interest boys who have a nautical bent. The "first call" is sounded five min utes before sundown, when the ensign and the jack halyards are manned and a stay light made ready for hoisting to Indicate the ship's whereabouts during the uight. Then the color call follows at sundown as the flag is lowered and saluted by all as it reaches the deck. The assembly is then sounded for evening quarters and muster, but there Is no drill. As a rule, it is just after sunset when the bugle call is sounded to "Stand by hammocks." That brings all the crew on deck, and they stand In silence close out to the ship's side be side the hammock nettings, in two ranks facing the stern, until the boat swain's mate reports to the officer of the deck, "All up and aft." The latter theu orders, "Uncover; pipe down!" and in obedience to this order and the boatswain's whistle the nettings are thrown open and the hammocks are served out and taken below to their proper places. Each hammock has printed on it a number, and that same number is on the hooks below decks where the hammock has to be swung, so that each man sleeps iu the same place every night, and that place is called his "billet." I'nless a boat is called away there will be no more bugle calls until five minutes of 9 o'clock. The period is one of complete relaxation and is spent by the sailors in smoking, spinning yarns, singing, playing on musical instruments and dancing. At five minutes of 9 the first call is again sounded as a warn ing to the crew to prepare to turn into their hammocks and go to sleep. Then at 9 o'clock comes >the call known as "Tattoo." This tattoo is the survival of an old custom. In the "old navy" it used to last fifteen minutes and was performed with drum anil fife, playing all manner of airs and quicksteps according to the fancy or ingenuity of the drummer and the tifer. It is even said to have hen banded down from a period of super stition, when they used to make a hul labaloo after dark to drive the devils out of the ship. At the last note of tattoo the ship's bell is struck twice for 9 o'clock, and the I boatswain's whistle sounds'"Pipe down." Every man must then turn into his hammock, whether he is sleepy or dot. for an inspection Is made by the master at arms to see that all have done so. Then sounds that last long, mournful call, "Taps/' j THE THERMOMETER. > It Was Invented by a Poor Man Who- Had Failed as a Merchant. There is one little Instrument ID which the interest of all classes of people in this country never diminishes through all the changing seasons of the year, from the first day of January to the last day of December. It regulates the business puise of the nation and is the shrine to which men of all occupa tions turn. And this little instrument V the thermometer, which bears the name of Fahrenheit. Before the seventeenth century mem eoulil ' illy judge of the amount of heat prevailing at any place by their per sonal sensations and could only speak L, of the weather in a very indefinite! way as hot or very hot, cold or very cold. In that century several attempts were made by scientific experimenters by means of tubes containing oil, spir its of wine and other substances to es tablish a satisfactory means of meas uring heat, but none of them proved* successful. Even Sir Isaac Newton, * ■who applied his great mind to this work, and also the noted astronomer, ! llalley, failed in their attempts to pro- I duce a heat measure. It was reserved to Gabriel Daniel ! Fahrenheit, an obscure and poor man, a native of Dantzig, to give to the world the instrument which has proved to be so serviceable to mankind. He ■ i had failed in business as a merchant] j and. having a taste for mechanics andt' chemistry, began a series of experi ments for the production of thertuome-< ters. At tirst he made these instru-' ■ rnetits with alcohol, but soon beeamei convinced that the semisolid mercury l ; was a more suitable article to use In ! the glass tube. Fahrenheit had removed from Dant sdg to Amsterdam, and there about the year 1720 he made the mercury ther mometer which has ever since been fashioned much like the original. The basis of his plan was to mark on ttie tube the two points respectively at which water is congealed and boiled 1 and to graduate the space between. He began with an arbitrary marking, i beginning with 32 degrees, because he found that the mercury descended 32 degrees more before coming to what he thought the extreme cold resulting ; from a mixture of ice, water aud sal ammoniac. In 1724 he published a dis tinct treatise on the subject of his ex -1 periments and the conclusions that had* resulted therefrom. Celsius of Stockholm soon after sug-v gested the more rational graduation of* ; a huudred degrees between freezing i and boiling point. This was the centi grade thermometer. Reaumur propos ed another graduation which has been accepted by the French, but by far the largest part of the civilized Torld. Fahrenheit's scale has been accepted* and used, with 32 degrees as freezing, G5 degrees as temperate, 06 degrees as blood heat and 212 degrees as boiling point. It is true that the zero of Fahren heit's scale is a solecism since it does not mark the extreme to which heat can be abstracted. This little blemish, however, does not seeia to have been of any practical consequence. Arctic explorers have persisted in de scribing tefnperaturea below the zero of Fahrenheit, and scientists have pro duced artificially temperatures far be low any ever dreamed of by the ther mometer maker of Amsterdam. There Is doubt as to the year of the death of Fahrenheit, but it Is generally placed in 1740.—L0s Angeles Times. Full Assurance. Old Aunt Miasma—Howdy, Gladys! Howdy, chilel 1 yeahs tell dat yo' am uhgwine to marry dat 'ar Cla'ence Swags. Miss Gladys Guggles— Yes'in. M«* and Cla'ence is gwiue to sasshay fo'tU hand in hand ou de stawmy sea o" mat'imony. De obsequies am fixed for next Friday evenin*. aud I s as happy as de day is long tight now. Old Aunt Miasma—l'h-huh! Well, I admires to see yo' 'Joyln' de pangs of anticipation, and 1 sbo'ly hopes de re taliation will lie the tame. But—ah, Lawd! dose men. dese men! l's done been mar'd to uo less'n live o' de scoun'rels iu tuuh time. gal. ujd yo' k.iin't place no nio' oppendence ou 'em dan so many eels, dey's dat detcrnal slippery. Dey talk# and dey trans plavlcates aud sw'ars by de moon and stahs dat dey'll be true, but when yo' thinks yo' has 'em —bim!—and dey's gune fuin yo'l Woman was made to moan, and man was made to see dat she does moan. U-m-m-m- ah! Miss Gladys Guggles—Yas'm. 1 or ganizes right emaht 'bout dat muhse'f ulikaze l's dono been fooled dat uh way a few times a'ready. I had tnuh doubts o' Cla'ence 'splte-uh his pro toplams of undyln' 'fectlon twell he took and jammed muh head against de wall wid a ferocity dat Jarred d» house, and den I knowed de man r*ally loved me. Yas'm, den I knoned It.—Puck. i ne rrodigai Son. Prodigal—Father. 1 have come home to die! "Confound you! Haven't you cost me enough already without adding the expense of a funeral?"— Life. r HI m ! i A jß.ella.blo TIN SHOP Tor all kind of Tin Roofing Spouting and Camera! Jot* Work. Stoves, Heaters. Furnaces. <*to. pricks tub ijmt: QUALITY TDK {EST! JOHN SJIXSON "(0 ll» E. FRONT ST
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers