> “only ‘mohody knows it. sipped his wine before he continued), “ “I thought perhaps if I disappeared My letters will be forwarded from the another better, I prised, but——" a OBSCURITY. There's a song for the man who is lucky and bold, For the man who side; There are cheers for the folk that are jingling the gold And are dr ifting : along with the tide. But the man who is striy ying to get to the land And facing the hungry wave’s crest, We quite ov erlook, for we don’t under- stand The fellow that’s doing his best. has fate on his But he has his rewards when the story is done, Though we way. For his own self-etteem is the prize he has won, As obscur ely he’s stood in the fray. And he knows the affection of home and of friends And the pleasures of honest-earned rest; There are peace and good will, as the twilight descends, For the fellow that’s doing his best. — Washington Sta smile as he plods on his haa EN SSC nar diy {A Change of Heart. 3 4 By Lurana W. Sheldon. ) VYvevvovevev wre The stage coach—a weekly event— : Bert Dcmaldson of . — Fifth avenue, New York, rose from the mat upon which he had been lying just under the ramada ranchhouse, and attention. The man who had seated before the coachero been half of the gave it his undivided | climbed and half fell to the ground. | As he began rubbing his cramped limbs vigorously, Donaldson tapped him cn the shoulder. “Well, of all things!” Al Van Alden made the remark with a tangible in- flection of incredulity, then he added: “¥ou here!” and held out his hand cor- dially. “Been here a week,” Donaldson plained as he led the way into ex- the ranchhouse, stopping just inside tho patio to introduce him tc “Sierra Jim,” the owner. Then the two went on to the enclos- ure between four adobe walls, where a criada sour visaged, but attentive, sup- plied them with refreshment. “I supposed .you knew my where- abouts;” Donaldson said frankly. “Ev- | eryone else in New York did. I gave Doc Turkingtcn a ‘ten spot’ for sug- | gesting it before the boys one night at | Be Louis Voter, town clerk, we here- le the folowing caution with you Oo issue ac ificate to -—— and , for this reagen that Mrs. husband has just nassed away 10ther feels having place at pre iX names.—Ken- nebec How Britons Do It. A gentleman traveling under the seat cn the Great Eastern Railway had the bad lu to be in the same carriage as a ticket collector. Nor did his bad luck end there. He could not resist giving vent to a ighty sneeze, and, coming from no e knew where, his fellow travelers e almost fr tened out of their wits. Result—case before the beak. This reminds us of a journey we once from Doncaster. As the train was moving out of the station a man sprang into the carriage. Taking a hasty look around, he said: “Gentle. men, I rely upon your honor,” and forthwith dived under the seat.— ‘CANAL A GIGANTIC TASK mean my ex- Th eomvey OF WORK TO BE DONE IN PANAMA. Views of Dr. C. A. Stephens, Who Has Recently Made a Trip of Observa- tion to the Isthmus.—The Culebra Cut the Biggest Work of the Kind Ever Undertaken. Dr. C. A. Stephens, who has been well known for a generation as a writer of stories of adventure for boys, has, recently visited Panama, where he nas had excellent opportunities for ob- serving the great project the nation nas undertaken there, writes York Post. bility of a tide-level canal at Panama. Of this Dr. Stephens says: It is not an easy matter to estimate the exact amount of earth which would have to be removed to get a clear channel across the Isthmus, 35 feet below tide at Colon and at La Boca on the Bay of Panama. But computing it at the va- rious levels, step by step up to the Culebra, through this vast cut and be- beyond, deducing what the French ap- filling it to a depth of 35 feet. pear to have done, we obtain 446,000,- 000 cubic yards, as a very conserva- tive estimate of what remains to be removed in order to have an open ditch from ocean to ocean, 150 feet wide at the bottom with 35 feet of standing water in it. As to the length of time required, we have to guide us only what the new French company have done. It is agreed on all hands, however, that they have worked with a fair degree of intelligence and with honesty. “During their most successful year, 1897, the new company employed 3600 men and removed, mainly in the Cule- bra cut, 960,000 cubic metres, chiefly earth. This was by far the best ever done by the French. Adding 40 per- cent to this 960,000 metres, for better American methods and better ma- chines, and assuming that the United States will employ. 20,000 laborers in place of 3600, we find that to remove the 341,600,000 cubic metres forty-six years and nine days will be required, or until 1951. By employing 30,000 la- borers the work might be done in about thirty-one years. More than 30,000 men could not be advantageous- ly worked there. . At best therefore, allowing nothing for contingencies or accidents, a tide-water canal at Pana- ma could not be completed before 1936—so that few of the present gen- eration would see it. Immense Cost of Tidewater Canal. “As to the cost of a tidewater canal at Panama, reckoning laborers’ wages at only a dollar a day, and the salaries of engineers, foremen, etc., at equally reasonable rates; adding present cost, figures for machinery, tools, explo- sives, transportation, hospital equip- ment and maintenance, with the thou- sand other minor expenses, and to this the interest on the money as used for thirty years, at 3 percent; I am un- able to find the amount called for to construct a tidewater canal at less than $570,000,000, or, adding the price of the canal from the French company, $610 000,000.” Magnitude of the Project. Dr. Stephens in other ways makes more distinct than do the formal re- ports the size of the project in which we are already committed. The Cule- bra cut he describes as the greatest thing of its kind" ever undertaken by man. When complete it will be three- fifths of a mile wide at the top, falling off to a width of 150 feet at the bot- tom, into which the great lake made by the dam at Bohio will flow back, From the top of the Culebra on the north side of the cut the depth will be near- ly or quite 400 feet. These figures, he says, conver little idea of the tremendous quantity of earth and rock which must be re- moved. It is not until one descends into this vast trench and marks how tiny the locomotives and great steam excavators look when seen in the pro- digious depth and breadth of the ex- cavation that a conception of the her- culean labor dawns on the mind. It is like Niagara, and must be contem- plated for awhile. At first sight it might be thought that a thousand men, operating 90 or 100 of these steam ex- cavators, would dig it out in a year: but by the time the visitor has walked and climbed about the cut for an hour or two, he can readily believe that the task may occupy 5000 men, with fha- chines, for ten years. The temperature in the cut he de- scribes as intense. The lofty, bare sides of the excavation accumulate heat like the walls of an oven. The seething steam boilers zdd to the cal- orific glow. It makes the eyeballs ache and the lungs feel dry and hot. “It is no place,” says Dr. Stephens, “for a white man’s unprotected head. A cork hemlet, or a green umbrella, or both, are necessary to his safety. It makes me shudder to think of the human suffering implied by ten years of labor here on the part of 5000 men. But only at the price of all this toil can stately vessels. steam thros=gh the Culebra.” The French Canal company has re- moved rauch earth here, but vastly more remains to be taken out. With arc lights strung along the cutting, the men of the night shift would have by far the easier day's work; for then the terrible sun rays would be absent, and the cooler night wind would be blowing through the trench. Indeed, if but one shift of men were e mployed, he thinks it would be better, after the light plant was installed, to work them only by night and have them sleep in day time. The Sanitary Problerr. Sporting Times. His account of the sani tary problem the | Washington correspondent ‘of the New Americans speak glibly of the posh] is even more impressive: “The French exercised little or no sanitary control over their canal laborers. They built little villages of wood and galvanized . iron for the men to live in, but in most cases provided neither water nor drains. If they fell ill in camp and did not die at once, they were trans- ported after a day or two to the hos- pitals at Colon or Panama. That was about as far as the French medical care or ‘control extended from 1880 on- ward. As a result they lost a great number of employees—some say 50, 000. The construction gangs were of- ten crippled and ineffective. Excava- tors, locomotives and other machines stood idle for weeks, because the men or the foremen were ill or dead. The losses of time, and money from this cause were enormous. Work was stopped from time to time, and often did not begin again for a month, pay being drawn all the while for the en- tire: gang. The direct loss from this cause alone is believed to have ex- ceeded seventy million francs. The indirect loss from delay and demoral- ization can never be determined. “The French Canal company. is now paying its laborers $1.08 a ‘day, Colom- bian silver, worth about 44 cents in United States currency.” Dr. Stephens says that it is an error to speak of any locality as in itself ‘“unheaithful.” If disease is present it has been brought there by men or ani- mals which have become infected else: where. No locality breeds new disease. He wants the government to establish a School of Tropical Diseases at Co- lon. The greatest variety of clinical material would be abundant. Canal laborers arriving from various points in the tropics will afford excellent mate- rial for study, with the added advan- tages of observing the course of the diseases in a tropical climate. Dr. Stephens also favors a camp of detention and observation for incom- ing laborers. In no other way can dis- ease be prevented from gaining access to the labor camps along the line of the canal. Nor when forwarded from the camp of observation to the labor camps should the executive guardian: ship over the laborer cease or be relax ed for a moment. A single hole in one’s mosquito net lets in the mos- -quito that -will inoculate him with yel- low fever or malaria; so with a sys tem of health protection for 20,000 la- borers.” At a single weak point of the system an epidemic may enter; the system must be precise, efficient at all points and constantly operative. If the best economic results are to be ob: tained, the labor camps must be en closed, policed and regulated as if un- der military discipline. He thinks it would be found expedient to have a canteen at.every camp, THE MUSIC CURE. Papa Had No Headache After Plenty of “Bedelia.” An interesting exneriment was. re cently conducted in an untown apart- ment house by a young woman with a taste for scientific research. She had heard of the so-called “music cure,” as tried in Boston, ard she de termined to investigate it. A few af ternoons ago her father, an exemplary citizen in every way, came home with a violent headache. The young wom- an versuaded him to recline in an easy chair and placed his mind in a quiescent state. Then she went around into the next suite of apart: ments and persuaded her dearest friend, a young woman with some knowledge of the piano, to play that instrument close to the partition that divided the two suites. The young woman said she'd play until her friend rapped on the wall and asked her to stop. Whereupon she commenced with “Bedelia,” while the other young woman with watch in hand stood close to the sitting room door and watched thé result. Not only did she watch it, but she took notes of it as follows: “Four twenty-five. Pana is softly groaning in his chair. His head must hurt him dreadfully. There, I hear Laura playing ‘Bedelia.’ Papa hears it, too. He is looking around. “Four twenty-eight. Papa has lift ed his head a little. ‘Bedelia’ still goes on. Papa is frowning and biting his lips. There, he is staring at the wall behind which Laura is busy. 1 think he begins to feel the influence. Yes, it is contracting his muscles. He is shaking his fist. His lips move. He is saying things. “Four thirty-two. from hid chair. Papa has slipped His eves are gleam- ing, his fists are clenched. ‘Bedelia’ still goes on. “Four thirty-five. Papa is" saying things at the wall. I'm afraid Laura will hear some of them. She is play ing much louder. It is stil} ‘Bedelia.’ Papa is getting red in the face. He is tearing Ris hair. I wish he wouldn't do that. He hasn’t any to snare. “Four thirty-seven. Papa has tipped over the chair and is hooving around like a, demented. Pawnee. And, oh, the language he uses is something aw: ful! Bang! I think Lavra has just fallen off the music stool. Anyway, ‘Bedelia’ has ceased. “When I rushed, a moment later, papa had fallen back on the couch and was gasping feebly. ‘Papa,’ I cried ‘how’s. the headache? He made an unrepeatable remark about the head: ache that at once assured me he was cured. “And it was the music that cured him!”"—Cleveland Plain Dealer. The First Essential. Betty—So Maud is engaged? * Well, I'm sorry for the man. She doesn’t know the first thing about keeping house. Bessie—QOh, yes, she does. Betty—I'd like to know what? Bessie—The first thing is to get a man to keep house for.—Harper’'s Ba. Zar. PEARLS OF THOUGHT. There is a miracle wherever the divine touches the human. The Bible is not such a bad-look- ing battle wreck, after all. Your business will never others until it absorbs you. Temptation wastes no time with the man who has ceased to pray. A religious flving machine much different from any other. If God is no more than a hypothesis He cannot be much help to us. A man’s spirit does not always grow holier as his salary grows heavier. It is easy for a man who hasn't an introduction to religion to sneer at it. You cannot expect better manners from your children than you give them. After all, it is the man at the lit- tle end of the horn who makes the music. Love is the prize most worth gain- ing, most easily gained and most oft- en lost. interest is not TROUBLES OF THE HERMIT CRAB. Having No Shell of Its Own, It Must Hunt Around and Fight for One. The most disconsolate fellow that walks the beach is the hermit-crab, whose shell has become too snug for comfort, says Country Life in Ameri- ca. If it were his own, as the clam’s is, it would grow with his growth, and always be a perfect fit; but to the hermit there comes often a “moving day,” when a new house must be sought. Discouraging work it is, too. Most of the doors at which he knocks are slammed in his face, A tweak from a larger pincer than his own will often satisfy him that the shell he considers ‘distinctly possible,” and hopefully ventures to explore, is al- ready occupied by a near but coldly unsympathetic relative. Finding no empty shell of suitable size, the hermit may be driven to ask a brother hermit to vacate in his fa- vor. The proposition is spurned in- dignantly, and a fight ensues. The battle is to the stronger. attacking party has considerable trouble 1 cleaning out the shell, hav- ing to pick his adversary out in bits. A periwinkle or a whelk may be at- tacked in a like manner by a hermit who is hard pnressed and has taken a fancy to that particular shell. If the householder be feeble, the conquest is easy. If lusty. he holds the fort. At last the sedrch is over. shell is cleaned and ready. “Yes, this will do! But how my back does ache! I mustr’t delay a minute! Is anybody looking? Here goes, then; and may I never have to move again!” In the twinkling of an eye, the cau: dal hooks let go their hold deep in the spiral of the cld shell, and have safe- ly anchored the weak and flaccid body to the inner convolutions of the new one. . It is all over; ar empty shell lies on the sand. and a larger one is near it with a sleepy-looking hermiterab in it. Poke him, and he leans languidily out over his pearly balcony, as if to say, “If this deadly fnonotony is not broken soon, I shall die!” But, behind this “society mask,” the cramped muscles are stretching out and adjusting themselves in absolute contentment to the roomy. spaces of- {ered them. The The Coffee Inehriate. America has develoned a class of men and women that physicians group iinder the name of “coffee inebri- ates.” A coffee inebriate is, speaking broadly, one who consumes a pound or more of coffee a week. A pound makes about seven quarts of coffee;; seven quarts make 28 cups, and 28 cups a week make four cups a jay. They, therefore, who drink four cups of coffee daily had better look out, for if ther have developed as yet 20 symptoms of coffee incbriety, it is likely that they will develop them be- {ore long. One of the symptoms of this disor- fer is an inability to do without cof- lee. If, some morning, you should forego the beverage at breakfast, and in consequence be headache, you are a coffee inebriate. Other symptoms are a sallow color, cold hands. a heart that beats irregu- larly, and melancholy. The cold hands, the irregular heart and the ner- vous melancholia or depression pass off when a strong cup of coffee is tak- en, but in an hour or two they return. Americans are the most ¢xcessive coffee drinkers in the world. Cver a billion’ pounds of coffee is imported into the United States each year. America is the only country where coffee inebriety is recognized as a dis- tase, This disease, taken in time, yields readily to treatment. But the trouble with it is that, being seldom taken in time, it is apt to lead to alco- nolism or morphinism.—New York Evening Telegram. Ingenious Postscript. This may be an old one, but Rep- resentative Charles N. Fowler of New Jersey, who seldom jokes, told it the other night and caused a lot of laugh- ter. He said that one of his con- stituents, a farmer, sat down ‘Trecent- ly and wrote a letter asking for sev- eral different kinds of garden seeds. $etore the letter was posted the farm- er was called to the barn, and in turn- ing over an old chest full of books and parcels came &cross several packages of seeds from last year, which had not been used. He re- turned to the house and, taking the unsigned letter added this postscript: “P. S.—Never mind sending the seeds, I find I have enough.” After which the letter was mailed, Often the attacked with | LA SOUFRIERE’S RUIN. Processes of Nature Reassert Theme selves on St. Vincent's Isle. How far the ordinary processes of nature have begun to reassert thems selves since the conclusion of the vol- canic disturbances was the subject of Investigation on a tour of St. Vine cent’s. The first thing that one no- tices is the remarkable luxuriance of the green growth of vegetation of all kinds, says the London Times. It is true that a vast quantity of unassimi. lated glassy ash is visible everywhere, painful to the eve and burning to the feet—very different from : the cool, restful, dull blackness of the soil that I remember two or three years ago. But wherever the ash has mixed well lo the soil it seems to have had some fertilizing effect, notwithstanding the assertions of the analysis. But the havoc which has been wrought among the smaller life of in- sects and birds is deplorable. I saw no lizards in the grasses, only the scantiest show of fireflies at dusk, far fewer butterflies and far fewer hum- ming birds. All the high ridges of the mountains are denuded of the tall forest trees and palms which used to clothe their summits. This is. of course, due to the hurricane of 1896; previously one rarely saw the bare outline of an escarpment silhouetted against the brilliant sky; wrinkled waves of foliage alone marked the configuration; but now the presence of a large tree is the excention, and even then it shows signs of ruthless storm tear. It was pleasanter tn ride through the new settlements provided for the Caribs and other refugees, suf- ferers alike from the hurricane and from the volcanic eruptions. The wis dom of the executive in removing the dwellers in the extreme north of the Island ard finding them homes out- side what was then a dangerous local« ity was fully justified by after events, although a considerable amount of sore feeling and dissatisfaction was created at the time. But. like many of the sufferers from the storm in Barbadoes, the deported families are now better housed than ever before In their lives. The new villages with their neat cabins and plots of land, decorate the fertile slopes and add un- doubted picturesqueness to the ward side of the island. But what of La Soufriere herself? Her last utterance was in March, 1903, and there is every sign that she is composing herself for another long slumber—how long or how short no man can say. Still, the lake in the bosom of the crater is once again fill- ing, and this is considered to be a token and promise of good behavior. The ascent of La Soufriere can no longer be made by the old route from Chateau Belair; one is obliged to go further north, to Wallibou, and thence begin the long climb of. nearly 4000 feet. The scene from the summit re« minds one, in its gloom and desola- tion of the Cities of the Plain. Not a bird, not an insect, not a tree—save a few charred stumps—can be seen. A black wall of pitchlike looking cliff confronts one where all used to be verdure ard thick serub, and through the broken rocks a glimpse of the smaller and unused crater now ap-< pears, the old knife edge partition which formerly divided the two crate. ‘ers having been partially destroyed in the violent paroxysm of the last erup« tions. On the slopes lower down chimneys, cattle pens, boiling houses and negro cabins can he discerned sticking an odd store or rater or trash roof through the mud where it has been scoured away by the torren- tial rains. And yet, amid all this destruction and desolation there are the begin. nings of a fresh era to be welcomed. Already on the lowest sands there is ~a profusion of silver ferns (no gold ones, as I had hoped and not unrea- sonably expected), guinea grass, sweet potatoes and cassava are. springing, self-sown, on the ridges -up to 1000 feet. Given five vears of undisturbed natural processes, I see no reason why the north of the island should not once again be as cultivatable, fertile and habitable as it was in the half century preceding the eruptions of 1802-3. Sued a President. Pawnee county claims to be the res. idence of the only living man who sued a president of the United States, His rame is G. S. Van Eman and he lives at Jennings. Van used to run a sheep ranch up in Lyon county, Kan- sas, and was getting along all right un- til Grover Cleveland was elected pres ident, and the ediét went forth that wool was ‘to be put on the free list Van had about consummated a sale, but ciaims the fear of tariff changes forced the price of sheep down several points. Furthermore, his regard for his sheep and country was so high that he was ashamed to look a sheep in the face under tie conditions that Clever land forced upon them, =o during the reign of Grover he made a practice of beginning at the rear end of a sheep te shear it. This greatly humiliated him and caused him to lose prestige with his hired hands and merinos. Feeling intensely aggreived and ma- terially damaged, he sued Grover Cleveland, president of the United States, getting service by publication, and obtained a judgment for $400. Of course, it was never collected, for Grover never got-in reach of an exe cution. But Van claims he felt better though the debt remains unpaid. — Kansas City Journal. Reason of the Advice. “A successful man,” said Uncle Eben,” ginerally advises young men to go into some. other line o’ business. Dat’s ’cause he hones’ly believes dat no one kin show as much smahtness as he did: in gittin’ over difficulties But he’s wrong.”—Washington Star. lee- ERS TR i* 4 Ona ay b; a fem was h they d The chemi neck slips o ap wil made Faw ness. seli-se endles she cls sions may a far as F The all cos to-day of the goes i dance pect. head grews go thr by th her du tf Give some braid top. of sor be en stitch, should make plied the si shoulc fashio being r The or mu Valen ever chang of lac dotted shirre rinime ers an Sha less 1 hats i shape well outing Gar divide flower used settes and ¢ the sa F No nowal contel a dea an o dress the go the * of to- often There spend quant imme conter more a tra with eveni: one I: gown tailor of eac a doze pretty ] Dr. Work ment dustri panied sone of th equal of fu the e( do th Those in cis this I distin spher rende; wwithis we ol male spher and s insist equal life, a priate “If Engli your who | diatei ‘All th tics not p« Boran