If the United States continues to be thus prosperous and popular, it will accumulate a fine collection of statues in the next few years. It is said the cable to Honolulu will be ready for business in November, thus bringing the Philippines 2000 miles closer to the United States. The president of tbe Illinois Hu- mane society offers the suggestion that when ping-pong has run its course as a fad the racquets may become efficient instruments of humane home pline. disci- Martinique, the scene of the recent cataclysm, is said to be one of the few islands in the West Indies where the deadly fer-de-lauce snake is tc be found, and before Mont Pelee broke out this reptile was regarded as the only thing on the island to be dreaded. The secretary of war has found it necessary to issue an order holding army officers pecurniarily responsible for the disappearance of revolvers and other small arms used in the service, unless the loss is proved to be due to legitimate causes. His action has been prompted by an extraorainary increas~ of late in the losses of this kind of property. An official in the Canadian govern- ment estimates that there is in the 50,- 000 acres of coal lands just taken over by the Dominion government coal enough to wipe out the Canadian pub- lic debt. At the average royalty paid in Pennsylvaria this would indcate an estimated quantity of 800,000,000 tons —enough at the present rate of con- sumption to supply all Canada for half a century. As a result of the revolting scenes at the bull ring on the occasion of the bull fight in honor of King Alfonso, it it reported that the king may stop bull fighting. After the bloddy dis- play the king asked some of the for- eign diplomats how they liked such sport. One of them answered that he found that it impressed him disagree- ably. The king remarked: “It is cruel. I do not like it myself. I should like to introduce horse-racing as a substi- tute.” It is difficult to account for the enor- mous velocity of some birds’ flight when migrating. The northern blue throat goes at the rate of 540 miles an hour, flying 4800 miles from Egypt to Heligoland in a spring night of barely nine hours. Virginian plover fly from Labrador to North Brazil, 9600 miles, without stopping, going at the rate of 636 miles an hour, and probably more. How can this speed be attained? The birds resort to great heights, where the resistance of the air is slight. Princess Irene, the wife of Prince Henry of Prussia, enjoys.the unique distinction of having about 4000 god- fathers. Born in course of the war of 1866 her father, Prince Louis of Hesse, requested the officers and men of the Hessian regiments forming part of the cavalry brigade under his com- mand to stand sponsors to his baby girl, and at the christening, which tock place on the termination of hostilities, deputations of officers, non-commis- sioned officers and men from each reg- iment were present in order to express in the names of their respective corps the readiness of the latter to assume the customary spiritual, moral and ma- terial obligations toward their god- child. The name of Irene—which means peace—was given to the little princess whose christening coincided wth the end of the war. It is reported that two travellers re- cently asked their way at a lonely farm house not 20 miles from one of our great cities, and that the mistress of the Louse, seeing that they were far from a hotel, not only gave them food and lodging, but positively refused to accept payment. This suggests an idyllic state of society, which it is true one must not count upon finding every- where in the country, remarks the New York Commercial Ad- vertiser, Yet there are advan- tages preserved in country life— among them hospitality, the virtue of primitive regions—that the American people are rediscovering. Indeed, the signs are many that the tide of population is turning back from the city to the country. After all has been said, the city is only a make- shift of the nineteenth century in its attempt to accommodate itself to new mechanical and industrial situations. The result was, and to a great extent still is, that city and country have been separated from each other by hard and fast lines; and the traditions of the two have become as inflexible as if the people were of different caste. Today, however, all civilized countrics are sharing in a ienawed love for country life. bo TO B i QR OR land travel or seafaring the world over a companion is tsually considered desirable. In the Klondike, as Tom Vin- cent found out, such a companion is ab- solutely essential. But he found it out, not by precept, but through bitter ex- perience. “Never travel alone,” is a precept of the north. He had heard it many times and laughed, for he was a strap- ping young fellow, big boned and big muscled, with faith in himself and in the strength of his head and hands. It was on a bleak Janudry day when the experience came that taught him respect for the frost and for the wis- dom of the men who had battled with it. He had left Calumet Camp on the Yukon with a light pack on his back, to go up Paul Creek to the divide be- tween it and Cherry Creek, where his party was prospecting and haunting moose. \ The frost was sixty degrees below zero, and he had thirty miles of lonely trail to cover, but he did not mind. In fact he enjoyed it, swinging along through the silence, his blood pounding warmly through his veins and his mind care free and happy. For he and his comrades were certain they had struck “pay” up there on the Cherry Creek Divide, and, further, he was returning to them from Dawson with cheery home letters from the States. At 7 o'clock, when he turned the heels of his moccasins toward Calumet Camp it was still black night. And when day broke at 9.30 he had made the four-mile cut-off across the flats and was six miles up Paul Creek. The trail, which had seen little travel, fol- lowed the bed of the creek, and there was no possibility of his getting lost. He had gone to Dawson by way of Cherry Creek and Indian River, so Paul Creek was new and strange. By 11.30 he was at the forks, which had been described to him, and he knew he had covered fifteen miles, half the dis- tance. He knew that in the nature of things the trail was bound to grow worse from there on, and thought that, con- sidering the good time he had made he merited lunch. Casting off his pack and taking a seat cn a fallen tree he unmittened his right hand, reached in- side his shirt next to the skin and fished out a couple of biscuits sand- wiched with sliced bacon and wrapped in a handkerchief—the only way they could be carried without freezing cold. He had barely chewed his first mouthful when his numbing fingers warned him to put his mitten on again. This he did, not without surprise at the bitter swiftness with which the frost bit in. Undoubtedly it was the coldest snap he had ever experienced, he thought. He spat upon the snow—a favorite northland trick—and the sharp crackle of the instantly congealed spittle star- tled him. The spirit thermometer at Calumet had registered sixty below when he left, but he was certain it had grown much colder, how much colder, he could not imagine. Half of the first biscuit was yet un- touched, but he could feel himself be- ginning to chill-a thing most unusual for him. This would never do, he de- cided, and slipping the pack straps across his shoulders he leaped to his feet and ran briskly up the trail. A few minutes of this made him warm again, and he settled down to a steady stride, munching the biscuits as he went along. The moisture that ex- haled with his breath crusted his lips and mustache with pendant ice and formed a miniature glacier on his chin. Now and again sensation forsook his nose and cheeks, and he rubbed them till they burned with the returning blood. Most men wore nose straps; his part- ners did, but he scorned such “feminine contraptions,” and till now he had never felt the need of them. Now he did feel the need, for he was rubbing constantly. Nevertheless be was aware of a thrill of joy, of exuitatton. He was doing something, achieving something, mastering the elements. Once he laughed aloud in sheer strength of life, and with his clenched fist defied the frost. He was its master. What he did he did in spite of it. It could not stop him. He was going to the Cherry Creek Divide. Stropz as were the elements, he was stronger. At such times animals crawled gway into their holes and re- mained in hiding. But he did not hide. He was aut in it, facing-it, fighting it. He was a man, a master of things. In such fashion. rejoicing proudly, he tramped on. After half an hour he rounded a bend, where the creek ran] close to the mountainside, and came upon one of the most insignificant ap- pearing. but most formidable dangers in northern travel. The creek itself was frozen solid to {ts rock bottom, but from the mountain came tbe outflow of several springs. These springs never froze, and the only effect of the severest cold snaps was to lessen their discharge. Protected from the ftost by the blanket of gnow, the water of these springs seeped down into the creek, and. an top of the creek ice, formed shallow pools. The surface of these pools, in turn, took on a skin of ice which grew thick- er and thicker, until the water overran. and so formed a second iee-skimmed BY JACK LONDON. pool above the first. Thus at the bottom was the solid | creek ice, then probably six to eight! inches of water, then a thin ice skim. | then another six inches of water and | another ice skim. And on top of this ~ last skin was about an inch of recent snow to make the trap complete. To Tom Vincent's eye the unbroken snow surface gave no warning of the lurking danger. As the crust was thicker at the edge he was well toward the middle before he broke through. In itself it was a very insignificant mishap—a man does not drown in twelve inches of water—but in its con- sequences as serious an accident as could possibly befall him. At the instant he broke through he felt the cold water strike his feet and ankles, and with half a dozen lunges he made the bank. He was quite cool and collected. The thing to do, and the only thing to do, was to build a fire. For another precept of the north runs: Travel with wet socks down to twenty below zero; after that build a fire. And it was three times twenty below and colder, and he knew it. He knew, further, that great care must be exercised; that with failure at the first attempt the chance was made greater for failure at the second attempt. In short, he knew that there must be no failure. The moment be- fore a strong, exulting man, boastful of his mastery of the elements, he was now fighting for his life against those same elements—such was the difference caused by tlie injection of a quart of water into a northland traveler's calcu- lations. In a clump of pines on the rim of the bank the spring high water had lodged many twigs and small branches. Thor- oughly dried by the summer sun they now waited the match. It is impossible to build a fire with heavy Alaskan mittens on one’s hands, so Vincent bared his, gathered a suffi- cient number of twigs, and knocking the snow from them knelt down to kin- dle his fire. From an inside pocket he drew out his matches and a strip of thin birch bark. The matches were of the Klondike kind, salphur matches, 100 in a bunch. He uoticed how quickly his fingers had chilled as he separated one match from the bunch and scratched it on his trousers. The birch bark, like the dry- est of paper, burst into bright flame. This he carefully fed with the smallest twigs and finest debris, cherishing the flame with the utmost care. It did not do to hurry things, as he well know, and although his fingers were now quite stiff he did not hurry. . After the first quick, biting sensation of oold his feet had ached with a heavy, dull ache and were rapidly growing numb. But the fire, although a very young ome, was DOW a SUCCess, and he knew that a little snow, briskly rubbed, would speedily cure his feet. But at the moment re was adding the first thick twigs to the fire a grievous thing happened. The pine boughs above his head were burdened with a four months’ snowfall, and so finely adjusted were the burdens that his slight movements In collecting the twigs. had been sufficient to disturb the balance. The snow from the topmost bough was the first to fall, striking and dis- lodging the snow an the boughs be- neath. And all this snow, accumulat- ing as it fell, smote Tom Vincent's head and shoulders and blotéed out his fire. He still kept his presence of mind, for he knew row great his danger was:| He started at once to rebuild the fire, but his fingers were now so cold that he could not bend them, and he was forced to pick up each twig and splint- er between the tips of the fingers of either hand. When he came to the match be en- countered great difficulty in separating one from the bunch, This he succeed- ed In managing, however, and also, by a great effort, io clutching the match between his thumb and forefinger. But in scratching it he dropped it in the snow and could not pick it up agatn. He stood up, desperate. He could not feel even his weight on his feet, al- though the ankles wese aching pain- fully. Putting on his mittens, he stepped to one side so that the smow would not fall upon the new fire he wag to build, and Deat his haris vio- lently against a tree trunk. This enabled dm to separate and strike a second match and to set fire to the remaining fragment of birch bark. But his body had now begun to chill, and he was shivering, so thet when he tried to add the first twigs his hand shook and the tiny flame was quenched. The frost had beaten him, His hands were worthless But be had the fore- sight to drop the bunch of matches into his wide mouthed cutside pocket before he slipped on his mittens in de- spair, and started to run up the trail. One cannot run the frost out of wet feet at sixty below and colder, how- ever, 8s be quickly discovered. He came round a sharp turn of the creek to where he could look ahead for a mile. But there was no help, no sign of help, only the white trees amd the white hills, the quist cold and tie bra- ven sflence! If anly he had a comrade whose feet were not freezing, he thought, only such a comrade to start the fire that could save him! Then his eyes chanced upon amather high-water lodgment of twigs and leaves and branches. If he could strike a match all might yet be well With stiff fingers which he could not bend be got out a bunch of matches, but found it impossible to separate ! them. He sat down and awkwardy shufiled the bunch about on his knees until he got it resting con his palm with the sul- phur ends projecting, somewhat in the manner the blade of a hunting knife would project when clutched in the fist. But his fingers stood straizht out. They could not clutch. This he cver- came by pressing the wrist of the other hand against them, and so forcing them down upon the bunch. Time and again, holding thus by both hands, he scratched the bunch on his leg and finally ignited it. But the flame burned into the fiesh of his hand, and he in- voluntarily relaxed his hold. The bunch fell into the snow, and while he tried vainly to pick it up, sizzled and went out. Again he ran, by this time badly frightened. His feet were utterly de- void of sensation. He stubbed his toes once on a buried log, but teyond pitch- ing him into the snow and wrenching his back, it gave him no feelings. His fingers were helpless and his wrists were beginning to grow numb. His nose and cheeks he knew were freezing, but they did not count. It was his feet and hands that were to save him if he was to be saved. He recollected being told of a camp of moose hunters scmewhere above the forks of Paul Creek.. He must be! somewhere near -it, ho thought, and if he could find it he yet might be saved. Five niinutes later he came upon it, lone and deserted, with drifted snow sprinkled inside the pine bough shelter in which the hunters had slept. He sank cCown, sobbing. All was over. In an hour at best, in that terrific tem- perature, he would be an icy corpse. But the love of life was strong in him, ard he sprang to his feet. He was thinking quickly. What if the matches | did burn his hands? Burned hands! were better than dead hands. No hands at all were better than death. | He floundered along the trail until he : came upon another high-water lodg-! ment. There were twigs and branches, leaves and grasses, cll dry and waiting the fire, i Again he sat down and shuffled the bunch of matches on his knees, got it | into a place on his palm, with the wrist ‘of his other hand forced the nerveless fingers down against the bunch, and with the wrist kept them there. At the second scratch the bunch caught fire, and he knew that if he could stand the pain he was saved. He choked with the sulphur fumes, and the blue flame licked the flesh of his hands. At first he could not feel it, but it burned quickly in through the frosted surface. The odor of the burning flesh —his flesh—avas strong in his nostrils. He writhed about in his torment, yet held on. He set his teeth and swayed back and forth until the clear white flame of the burning match shot up, and he had applied that flame to the leaves and grasses. _ An anxious five. minutes followed, but the fire gained steadily. Then he set to work' to save himself. Heroic meas- ures were necessary, such was his ex- tremity, and he took them. Alternately rubhing his hands with snow and thrusting them into the flames, and mow and again beating them against the hard trees, he re- stored their circulation sufficiently for them to be of use to him. With his hunting knife he slashed the straps from his pack, unrolled his blanket and got out dry socks and footgear. Then he cut away his moccasins and bared his feet. But while he had taken liberties with his hands he kept his feet fairly away from the fire and rubbed them with snow. He rubbed till his hands grew numb, when he would cover his feet with the blanket, warm his hands by the fire and return to the rubbing. For three hours he worked till the worst effects of the freezing had been counteracted. All that night he stayed by the fire, and it was late the next day when he limped pitifully into the camp on the Cherry Creek Divide. In 2 month’s time he was able to be about on his feet, although the toes were destined always after that to be very sensitive to frost. But the scars on his hands be knows he will carry to the grave. "And — “Never travel alone!” he now lays down the precept of the morth.—Youth’s Companion. | | “Johnny Bull” is Slow. A striking example of the canserva tis that still obtains in certain lines of business in London, says the corres- poadent of the New York Herald, was brought to my notice the other day. A young American came to: London on his way to the Argentine Republic for his heaith. He noticed how far ber hind advertising methods were com pared to those in vogue in America, and oe inquiry learned that the cards in ommibuoses and cars are never changed during an entire year. He called on several of the largest adwver- tising sgents, submitted the idea of frequent change and offered to develop it far a percentage. The manager of one concern looked bored and said: “We were asked by a certain com- peny in the United States to change their advertisement at least quarterly. But when we submitted the propo- sition to our directors they agreed that it was too much trouble.” The Genesis of Fogs. Mn Rollo Russell has for many years studied the formation of fogs, and now prints his principal conclusions. Mist and fog are ordinarily caused by the mixture of currents of air of different temperatures. Fogs that do not de- pend on the mreeting of such currents are rare, but tlrere are many cases of mreeting currents where no fogs are produced, Earty Agricultural Exhibitions. The first agricultural exhibition 4d within the limits of the United States 1s said “to have Deen organized and carried to a successful conclusion at Georgetown, in the District of Colum- bia, in 1819. This claim is disputed, various towns and counties in New England asserting that agricultural fairs or expositions were held in them at an eariler date. A- PERENNIAL CONTEST AN ANT WAR WHICH HAS LASTED FIFTEEN YEARS. The Field of Battle is a Cemetery in Pennsylvania—Black Ants Make Raids Upon a Colony of Red Ants For Slaves ~The Plan of Campaign. Ia the little cemetery at the St. Vin- cent Monastery, Latrobe, Westmore- land County, Pa., over the peaceful graves of the departed Benedictine monks, there has for fifteen years waged a curious war, the outcome of which is watched with interest by the fathers of the institution, one of whom, at least, Father Jerome, is known wide- ly as an entomologist of repute, being at present engaged in identifying enty- doms for the museum of the Carnegie Institute in Pittsburg, several new spe- cies which he has discovered being named after him. The war in question is a perennial contest waged between two colonies of ants. In the cemetery proper there is a colony of ‘“slave-tak- ing ants,” the boundaries of whose home are definitely marked near the borders of the burial ground. Justover the hill from this is a colony of the common red ants of larger size, and be- tween these two communities, or form- icaria, for a decade and a half the bat- tles have been frequent and furious. As a natural consequence the red ants being constantly depleted of their “neuters,” or workers, are becoming less and less numerous, while the black ants, living in luxury and ease, are waxing more powerful in numbers each year. The outcome will probably be that in the end the slave-taking ants will exterminate the red ants, when the former will be compelled to move else- where for serfs. Exhaustive study, under the micro- scope, has been made of the two colo- nies and their bellicose relations by Father Jerome and other priests at the monastery. The black ants have con- structed, with the help of their serfs, immense galleries in the cemetery, . which are constantly being enlarged by the additions of new colonies sent out from the mother house and the extend- ing of these by increasing population. To begin with, there are three kinds of ants in the black nest: the males, fe- males and the neuters, the latter being undeveloped females. When the males and females emerge from the pupae state both have wings. Unlike the bees, which leave the colonies in swarms because of bad air, overcrowd- ing or other cause, the young ants leave the nest simply for reproductive pure poses. Pairing, the males and females take their honeymoon trip in the air, after which the males die and the fe- males uncouple their wings, never more to reclaim them. In this apparently helpless state the females are found by the neuters and either brought back to the original home nest or, surrounded ‘by a colony of reuters, the new queen ‘takes up her abode in a new colony. In ‘this she at once proceeds to deposit her eggs in groups of six or eight. When ithe eggs are hatched the insects are then in the pupa state. This pupa spins la cocoon, which looks like a little bar- leycorn, and which most people quickly mistake for an “egg.” In about a year this cocoon hatches into the perfect ant, which, suppose for descriptive pur- poses, to be a “soldier,” for such the colony possesses. . This soldier is a neuter with elon- gated jaws, made for fierce battle 'work. The colony finds that the work is becoming too much for the slaves ‘captured on the last raid into the col- ony of the red ants down the hillside. With their attennae, the soldiers com- imunicate from one to another the in- itelligence that a foray is to be made. [First a few scouts set out, soldiers like. These scouts go a little way, then re- trace their steps—why? Because the ense of smell is with the ant its means of following the path taken by its pre- decessor. This fact has been proven ‘time and time again Uy crossing the path with the human finger or other- ‘wise interrupting the line of scent, in ‘which case the ants become at fault, and only after scouts have been sent out in all directiogs by the main body of the army following can the trail be again found and followed. i Following the scouts—in this case, also the old trail of years before—the body of foragers crosses the borders of the slave-takers and soon comes down ‘the hill to the formicarium of the red ants. The black soldiers rush in. A furious battle ensues. Many of the red ants are killed in defense of their ‘home, their lineage and their helpless offspring. But the red ants are no match for the slave-takers. Here and there, in this gallery and in that, the black ants are busy grabbing up the bupae in their jaws. Finally, each in- vader with a pupa in its mouth, the black ants retrace their steps toward their own colony. The Kidnaped pupae ‘are now taken in charge by the nurses and attendants—the “minor” neuters of the black ant colony. The helpless things are fed and cared for till they are perfect insects. By this time prob- ably they have lost all knowledge of their old home, and being thoroughly domiciled as serfs, and knowing noth- ing better, they are reconciled to serf- com. As the Romans were so kind to the Sabine women, whom they had kid- naped that these same women risked their Itves to prevent battle for their deliverance, so it is likely that these serfs will do anything to make com- fortable and easy the indolent lives of their abductors. In truth, the black ants treat their slaves with all kind- ness, aside from the fact that the lat- ter have the burden of all the work. It is their duty to make new galleries, to attend the queens, or females, of which, unlike the bees, there may be several in the same hill; to feed the lar- vae and to otherwise keep the colony in the best repair. One of their chief bors is the remova of the larvae from place to place in the nest, which, in fact, seems to be constructed mainly for the protection and growth of these helpless infants. During the night the larwae are placed in the deepest cells of the nest, the entrance to which is se- cured to keep out marauders. In the morning the diligent neuters take up the larvae in their mouths and convey them to the outer chambers of the for- micarium. where sun’s rays may have access to them. Scmetimes the larvae are exposed to the direct light of the sun. The serf ants are not the only outsid- ers brought into the use of these black slave-taking ants. It is well known that ants like sweet things. Sugar at- tracts them; ripe fruit, a crust of bread dipped in molasses, a piece of candy, will usually be found covered with ants if left for a few minutes on the ground. Also naturalists have discov- ered that ants have learned to know certain little insects called aphides. or ant-cows, which exude a sugar from their bodies. This ant-cow has a gland filled with the sugar, leading into a duct, which the ant touches with his attenna, whereupon a tiny drop issues forth for the “milker.” This operation is repeated till the ant is satisfied. But in this connection one prominent feat- ure has heen discovered at the monas- tery. It has long been a disputed point as to whether the ants will take the aphides into their nests or simply go out to them as the little lice—for such: the ant-cows are—climb upon plants. According to the observations made it would seem that so long as the aphides are plentiful about the colony the black ants do not bother to take them prison- ers, but simply locate them upon ten- der plants and go to them for a sip of the honey-nectar. But just as soon as changes in temperature or other causes bring about a dearth of the aphides the black ants thereupon proceed to corner the market in cows—something like the beef trust—and treat those taken pris- oners with all care, in order to prolong a supply of drinks. If this observation proves to be a truth it will add one more jot of intelligence to the high credit of the ant, already known as one of the most wonderful creatures of an- imal life, ranking with some naturalists next to man, and by few placed lower than third in the scale, man and the bees the only creatures above them.— New York Commercial Advertiser. Legend of Gunpowder. Great honor is paid to St. Barbara in Germany and Italy. Why, very few people, apparently, have up to now been able to discover. A German offi- cer says that she is honored because the invention of powder is, in a large measure, due to her. Berthold Schwarz, a monk, le explains, opened the “Lives of the Saints” on St. Barbara's day, and read the story of her martyrdom, after which he reasoned as follows: “The heart of the virgin was white as salt, the soul of her tormentor was black as coal, and it was sulphur from heaven which punished him for his cru- elty. I will mix these three things, and it will be a wonder if I do not discover the philosopher’s stone.” He did mix them, and as soon as he put the mix- ture in a fire a tremendous ‘explosion followed. Such, according to the Ger- man soldiers, was the origin of gun- powder.—Golden Penny. Cordite. It has been shown that the ercsive action of cordite was seriously affect- ing the value of this explosive, and that the British admiralty appointed a committee to make a series of tests and to report upon the subject, and to in- vestigate whether some other explosive could not be substituted for military and naval use. One of the results has been the adoption of a new smoke- less powder, to be known as ‘Cordite M. D.” The new explosive is said to have nitro-cellulose as its base, and it is believed to contain a certain per- centage of nitro-gylcerine, but not so much as is used in cordite itself. claimed that it does not generate so life to a gun.—New York Tribune, Well Trained Italian Audience. A political orator addressed a club of Italian voters in English, and, to his surprise and satisfaction, his listeners paid strict attention and applauded at the proper places, shouting “Viva!” and “Bravo!” repeatedly. At the conclu- sion of his speech the orator took his seat beside the chairman. He whis- pered that he was delighted with his more intelligent audience. replied the chairman; “me fix all a-dat. Me hol’ up one-a finger, evra man say-a ‘Hurrah!”” Me hol’ up two-a finga, evra man say-a ‘Viva!’ Me hol’ up t’ree-a finga, evra man say-a ‘Bravo! Me bol’ up whole-a hand, evra man say-a ‘Hiyil’ like one great yell. Me fix all-a dat.”—St. Louis Post-Dispatch. Pennies in the West. “They are now using pennies fn the Far West,” said a traveler, “but they are chary of them. "They don’t like them much. “Back in 1830 I got on a Western street car. A woman passenger handed the conductor for her fare five pennies. The man took them, and, without a word, walked out on to the back plat- form apd threw them in the gutter. I was a tenderfoot and the prodigality of the thing impressed me. “They didn’t, you see, give coppers in change because they bad none. It is a little better out there now, ‘but pennies are still much searcer than they are in the East.”—Philadelphia Record. The big gray kangaroo of Australia measures about seven feet from the tip of its nose to tne end of its tail. It can run faster than a horse and clear thirty feet at a jumt. tis - much heat as cordite, hence the longer reception and had never spoken: to a . “Ha-ah!” es i Wi Ny | A Ils WN ol con: maj had yea date mar vea trar geli; bron lew invi ser and vice be t Bet chu er i fere mai libe but any mer ‘ma chu Tess 10 1 on ¢ ‘half dzed tend be 1 as ind lan Fos the enr
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers