Washington will watch the prog
iress of the New York antl.Blgn cam
paign with Interests, according to the
Star, and Its own efforts to akatt the
local nuisance will probably bo stim
ulated by the example which the ag
gressive reformers of the metropolis
are setting. x
English . housekeepers are com
plaining because their servants are
leaving them to go to Canada and
the other colonies. They say that
England otters no matrimonial op
portunities." Evidently the woman
who considers marriage an end worth
striving for is not yet extinct.
' What college will first set the ex
ample of putting all students on a
common level so far as food and
lodgings are concerned? asks the
Christian Register. Many rich men
would prefer to send their sons to a
college where luxury was barred and
the habits of a hardy manhood were
encouraged.
'" Germany has appropriated 50,000
marks, or about $12,000, to encour
age cotton raising in her colonies,
on the condition that her manufac
turers shall raise a larger sum, de
clares the New York Wdrld. The Im
perial Government was moved to ac
tion by the plea that the nation
should not look to America for three
quarters of its imports of raw cotton.
In the estimation of the Progres
sive Farmer what the country needs
is not to enrich a few men enormous
ly and then have them make princely
gifts to the people they have plun
dered. Rather we need to give serious
attention to checking special privil
ege and so insure an equitable dis
tribution of wealth to begin with;
and no "philanthropy" on the part of
our Croesuses should blind our eyes
to this fact.
Any man who seriously doubts the
supremacy of the English, race may
he easily, convinced of his error, as
serts the 'New York Tribune,' by the
news that English courts are enforc
ing a' newly passed antl-tlpplng law.
No other country in the world hns
thus far proved its ability to math
this moral courage of the British.
And to think that, at the same time,
the Londoners have abolished strap
hanging! Verily, in the- English
moral world it never rains but it
pours.,-, ' "
. The crusade in the interests of
American forests is commendable
from every point of view. The scien
tists of the Government have now an
nounced that this country as 'a whole
consumed every year between three
and four times more timber than the
total forests of the United States
grow in that time. "After us the
deluge" has been the wanton motto
of our forest vandals. And the de
luge has begun to descend annually
with great devastation upon Ameri
can cities.
Remarks the New Orleans Pic
ayune: There is a lamentable lack
of confidence throughout this country
In public officials and their integrity,
And persons making such statements
should be required to establish their
truth. The general belief is that this
condition of affairs has resulted from
the corrupt practices of railroads in
their dealings with Legislatures, the
Congress and even with the Courts,
nd it is intolerable that a railroad
magnate should boast of such a con
dition of affairs."
Egyptologists, archaeologists In
general, and innumerable travelers
nlil greatly deplore the submersion
of Philae and the other ruins and
monuments in that region, but, on
the other hand, all Egypt will be
enormously benefited by the addition
of 1,000,000 acres .to the cultivable
area of that country. The relics of
antiquity make way for the needs of
the present day. Besides, there are
yet six years before Philae will be
burled forever beneath the waters
of the Nile, in which time sightseers
and students may improve their op
portunities. Although the London department
stores have not really posted the fa
mous sign, "Going out washing done
here," they have taken a step in that
direction, notes Youth's Companion.
Spring housecleaning is now one of
the commodities which they sell.
The tenant or householder merely
sroes away for a day or two. visiting
, or boarding at a hotel. When he re
turns, the house ' has been , cleaned
from cellar to garret, and everything
is restored. "Mother" is spared all
the work and "father" no longer has
to eat his breakfast from the'ironlng
board, nor finds thp oleander "tem
porarily potted in his silk hati ' ! :
SIR BAREFOOT.
Oh, tell me, Mr. Citizen, athwart your busv wny ,
You've seen, mayhap, Sir Barefoot Boy trudge merrilv to-dav?
Perchance 'twas from your auto trap, or from your office dod;
Perchance 'twas from the cable-car, or from the cross-roads store;
The thrushes, in the country, and the sparrows, in the town,
Have noted well, I warrant you, his legs so brave and brown,
Have noted well where on his calves the skin is wont to peel,
liia stubbed toe, and his wasp-st-jg, and the stone-bruise on his heel.
Of course you'd recognize him! Faith, he's one to you akin.
Connecting sober, careful age with youth and bliRtered shin ;
Recalling short, delicious days that brim with life and light
And bring to mind dear pantry shelves, and poppy sheets o' night.
J. he days whose rays wore never hot;, whose ram but passing wet;
When quite the height of wickedness the cornsilk cigarette!
'"he days of wide, exhauatless woods, and Rover tried und leal;
Of stubbed toe, and of wasp-sting, aud of stone-bruise ou the heel.
Don't vou remember, friend, the fun (as I do, goodness knows!)
Of making cool and liquid mud squirt high between vour toes?
Don't you remember early morns, nnd that entrancing bliss
Of swishing through the lielils of dew, and ev'rv drop a kiss?
Don t you remember how the dust lav warm and thick beneath,
And how in sport you plowed it up till folk could scarcely breathe?
Dont you remember barley stumps that mnde you fairly reel?
The stubbed toe, and the wusp-sting, and the stone-bruise on the heel?
I reckon you remember, too. the sunny hours of spring,
!. " 9 aRninst t'19 bursting sod, each foot was like a wing!
Ah, how you used to run and leap and kick for verv joy!
0 lambkin ever gamboled thus as now the liarefoot Boy.
But jo! by fall your feet had spread, and shoes, once roomy, cramped;
Until you floundered clumsily as here and there you stamped!
Zounds! wouldn't you give name, nnd fame, and wealth, again to feel
The stubbed toe, and the wasp-sting, and the stone-bruise nn the heel?
Edwin L. Sabin, in The Century.
Modern Lsau
GLhszshssse
ESH5HHHSHH2SSSaSHSESHEHSaSHSHHaE
By J. CRAY. JT
"And you really will wait for me,
Harold?"
The speaker was a pretty girl of
twenty-five, with nut-brown hair
which lay back in natural waves, nnd
bright eyes that Just at the moment
were dimmed with grief.
"Wait for you! Of course I will,
my darling. I could not do other
wise," the man replied, drawing her
tenderly to him.
"But it la so much to ask. Three
long years! If they would only have
given father the post for a shorter
time! I know It is his only chance
lor health, but I feel sure he will be
well long before we are able to re
turn." "If he is, so much the better,
sweetheart. Meanwhile, we must be
brave and bear the separation.. Jt is
to save his life."
"I know, I know, and I am going
to be brave. How good and unselfish
rou are, Harold! When I come back,
dear, I will try to repay you. Oh, 1
will be a good wife to you! "
"I know you will, sweetheart! But
oh! my dearest," he added, with a
burst of passion that could not be
controlled, "it is hard to say good
bye! "
Tears were in the man's eyes as
he kissed her, and the girl sobbed
frankly at the thought of thi long
parting Fate had decreed for t. em.
Her father's health had failed on the
very advent of the wedding, and the
doctor peremptorily ordered hlra out
of England. A post was opportunely
offered to him in Australia, and as
soon as he was well enough the voy
age must be made. But he was elder
ly and ill, and the daughter felt she
could not let him go so far alone.
After a short but sharp struggle, she
resolved to go with him, and say fare
well to her lover. It was a bitter and
heartrending leavetaking. With
much grief Elsie Landon said "Good
bye" to the man she loved, while he
sadly but resignedly set hlra3elf to
face the terrible separation.
All this, however, happened ten
"ears ago. Ten years! Harold
Prlestlelgh, musing over it, could not
realize that so much time had fled.
How quickly It had rushed away!
He thought three years would never
pass, and now he had proved that,
When looking forward, a few years
are an eternity; but when looking
back they are but as a dream. All
this time Fate had sternly forbidden
Elsie's return. Her father's health
had always remained too precarious
for the doctor to give him permission
to come home, and Elsie had felt It
her duty to remain with him. But
Fate, who had been so stern in one
respect, had tempered severity with
gentleness In another, for to Harold
the ten years had passed so smoothly,
so comfortably, that he had suffered
less than he expected to In one. And
fear by year, month by month, ho
felt the pain of separation less. Elsie
would come back one day, he knew,
but it would not be till her father's
death now, and Harold felt no Impa
tience. Life was very pleasant, In a
calm and peaceful way. His home
was happy under his sister's gentle
rule, and ho had come to regard his
swoetheart's return as an almost un
welcome change In the placidity of
his life. He was forty years old now,
slightly bald, and had a tendency to
stoutness, and who knew what dis
turbing elements her arrival would
bring? Therefore, although Inevita
ble, he would not think of it as an
Imminent possibility. .
, It was somewhat of a shock, there
fore, when one day he opened the
familiarly addressed envelope and
read a follows:
"My dear Harold" (it used to be
My dearest boy," or "My own Har
old," but doubtless she was becoming
a prosaic, middle-aged person, being
only five years younger than him
self. All this flashed through his
mind as he continued to read), "the
dear father passed away on the 20th
of last month. I am very ead, and, in
spite of my many frlend3 here, rather
lonely. I shall sail for England as
soon as everything can bs arranged,
and then, you know, dear, 1 am
yours, and will do all I can to make
up for the many years of loneliness
yon have devoted to me."
"Poor little thing!" he said softly.
She must, indeed, be lonely!" But
even witn tne tender thought came
the realization that for years he had
never wanted her, had not been lone
ly in the least himself, and had
scarcely missed her. The task of
comforting her was rather a stern
duty to which he must apply himself
manfully than an anticipated pleas
ure, Hetwas intensely conservative
in his habits, and, as he stretched
himself before his study fire for it
was a cool autumn day he felt dis
tinctly ruffled to think that the old
order was about to change and give
place to new. A postscript stated
that she r.as still uncertain by which
vessel she would Ball, but would
cable In starting, or wire when she
landed in England.
"Elsie is coming home at once,"
he said, as his sister Marian brought
him a steaming cup of tea with Just
the right amount of cream and sugar
In it. "Her father has passed away."
And even as he made the remark he
wondered whether it would take
Elsie long to understand all his little
peculiarities of tnste, and whether
she would pander to them quite as
gracefully as his sister had done.
Marian took the letter, which he
handed over to her without any
qualms or shyness, and read it
through.
"You have both been very patient,"
she remarked quietly, and as much
as she adored her brother, there
seemed a touch of contempt In her
voice. "I hope you will be very
happy. Under the circumstances I
suppose you will not delay the wed
ding." "No, I suppose not," he replied,
and his tone was not that of an
ardent lover, but rather Implied that,
having waited ten years for his bride,
he would willingly serve the time
again, though not from the
cause as the patriarch of old.
As the days passed Harold grew
more and more reluctant to welcome
Elsie, and yet he felt an awful sen
sation of shame when he considered
his position.
"Of course I want her," he argued
with himself, "only she has been
away so long, and the thought of
marriage Is somewhat embarrassing
to such an old bachelor."
At last a wire came which, by Its
abruptness, took his breath away.
"Landed yesterday. Comine tn oa
you this afternoon. ELSIE."
He put down the telegram with a
gasp.
"To-day! I thought I should have
been able to meet her! Still, after
all, this Is less embarrassing. It
would be trying to meet at the docks
or the station."
Cheering himself with this thought,
he hurried from the study.
"Marian! Marian!" be called.
But no answer came from bis sister.
At last a housemaid appeared to say:
"PleaBe, sir, Miss Prlestlelgh has
gone to the West End to shop; she
said she might spend the afternoon
with, a friend, and not be home till
late."
"What friend?" he asked, eagerly.
"Can I wire?"
"No, sir; she did not leave any ad
dress. You were busy, and she said
she would cot disturb you."
Harold always objected to being
disturbed' in his morning's work.
There was nothing for it, then, but
to receive her himself. He went back
to his study trying to hammer the
belief Into his mlod that he wanted
Elsie, wanted her sadly, but his heart
contradicted so loudly that the brain
could not accept the statement.
"Heaven help me!. I do not feel
that I want her! " he confessed at last.
"What a cold-blooded villain I must
be!"
He took her po'rtralt down from
the shelf and looked at it closely. It
was the same sweet face of ten years
before, although the photo had been
quite recently taken.
"She is good and loving and pretty,
and she is mine," he whispered, but
his heart throbbed no faster at the
thought. It rather sank lower, and
he almost felt faint with loathing of
himself and dread of the Interview.
. He could eat no lunch, and awaited
his visitor In a kind of sick uneasi
ness. At last the ring came, but to
save his life he could not go out to
meet her. He sat pal.i and reluctant
till Jane came to say that a lady war
waiting In. the drawing room. Then,
with an effort, be went down; there
was no further possibility of delay;
and he drew his haudkerchlet over
bis damp brow before entering the
room. I
Elsie rose and came forward at
once.
"Harold," she said, "at last I am
back in England."
She looked very pale, but no doubt
that was the result of her grief. Evi
dently she did not expect to be kissed,
but he took ber hand and murmured
some kind words of welcome.
"You have hal a great sorrow,"
he said gently, "but 1 know how
brave you are."
"I am not at all brave," she re
plied, a little 'scornfully. Then after
struggling with her emotion for a
moment or two, -nhe continued:
"I am glad to see you alone, Har
old. I feel I have been very, very
wicked; when I wrote to you 1 did
not know I did not dream such a
thing possible. I thought I loved
you too much!"
He looked amazed, and she went
on to explain:
"On the-voyage I met someone
a Mr. Douglas; he was very kind to
me, and before I realized what was
happening, we fell in love. Oh! 1
am aehamed of myself! I will marry
you it you still wish it, Harold, but I
could not add the wrong of deceiving
you to all the rest."
She did not look at him, or she
would have seen the relieved expres
sion on his face.
"I am humiliated," she went on
rapidly. "It did not enter my mind
that a woman of my age could fall
violently in love! I thought the old,
quiet affection I had for you was all
that was left after the glamour ot
youth was gone. But love was too
subtle. I did not recognize it till it
was too strong for me."
She looked up, and said plteously,
"Can you forgive me?"
"There is nothing to forgive," he
said slowly. Then, with an evident
effort, continued: "I would never
have confessed If you had not told ma
this, but I think I am too old and
staid to marry. Much as I appreciat
ed your friendship, I almost dreaded
your coming home."
She looked at him in amazed de
light. "Harold, you dear old fellow! Do
you really mean it?, You don't mind
setting me free?"
"I ought to mind It, I know," he
said, with a whimsical smile, "but
honestly, I have funked the thought
of marrying for a long time."
"Harold, this Is not pure unselfish
ness?" she queried, in sudden sus
picion. A dull red appeared In Harold's
face, hut he nerved himself to speak
the truth.
"It is pure selfishness. I feel a
brute to say it, but circumstances
Justify me in doing so. What you
tell me is a relief. I, too, am glad
to be free."
"Then there will be no tragedy,"
she said, with the first smile he had
seen her give. How bright and young
and pretty It made her!
"No, there will be no tragedy," he
echoed. "You Bee how old and staid
and gray I am. I have got Into a
groove; but time has dealt differently
with you; you will marry and be
happy, nnd I shall be happy nlBo."
They talked a little longer, but
Elsie would not stay to tea. Her
hansom was watting, and she had
to gladden Mr. Douglas as soon as
possible with the .news.
"We shall always be friends, Har
old?" she queried as she shook
hands with him.
"Always, I hope," he responded
calmly.
"George and I will come to see you
and Marian soon," she said gaily.
"Good-bye."
"Good-bye," Harold repeated, me
chanically, as the door closed upon
her and upon all the dream of love
that he had ever known. The door
closed, and Harold went back to his
study and locked himself in. Yet,
somehow, love was not willing to be
so abruptly and ruthlessly shut out.
The - vision remained ot the sweet
face,' so radiant with Joy, that he had
once loved to kiss. The eyes that sor
row and patient devotion to duty had
not dimmed were still before him,
and the echo ot some words she had
said still remained in his ears:
"Had you sent for me at any time,
Harold, I should have come. Father
had many friends, and could have
well spared me for the last five or
six years. I felt you had the greatest
claim- upon me, and though you
seemed willing, I would not have
asked you to wait longer."
Harold bowed his head, and sat for
a long time gazing into the fire, now
burning dim and cheerless. He shiv
ered as he glanced round the room,
which- for the first time struck him
as looking unhome-like and lacking
something. Outside, the clouds had
piled up again, grim and lowering in
the dull autumn sky; and in his
heart, too, the clouds were gathering.
"She would have come! She would
have come," he repeated in a dull, ex
pressionless tone of voice. "What an
insensate fool I have been! There la
tragedy, after all, in selling one's
birthright for a mess ot pottage!"
London Sunday-School Times.
"The Fox and the Grapes" Revised.
Governess (who has told her small
pupil the story of "The Fox and th
Grapes") "Now, Isn't that a clevei
story, Ethel?"
Ethel "Clever? Not a hit! That
fox was nothing but a goose. He pre
tended that the grapes were sour;
what he should have said was: 'Oh,
what beautiful grapes! So tempting
and so sweet! But my doctor has
told me never to eat sweet things, so
I must refrain.' " Tit-Bits. i
Music of A.
- '
By CARL
Imagine listening In your home to
the performance of a Paderewskt or
a Knelsel Quartette who are miles
away, the tones being Just as orig
inal in your parlor as they are at
the musicians' elbow. Imagine hav
ing such fine music available to your
home at any time by merely turning
on an electric switch, a largo corps
of the best musicians of the day play
ing continuously at the central sta
tion. Imagine such music service at a
nominal charge per hour, you using
as many or as few hours as you wish,
so that with a room full of your
guests, the cost would average a cent
or two per guest, per hour.
It is a literal realization of Ed
ward Bellamy's dream of the music
of A. D. 2000, ninety -three years
ahead of the prophesied time, as pic
tured In that wonderful book of fif
teen' years ago, "Looking Backward."
Imagine that hitherto impossible
dream of the social reformer the de
mocracy of fine music come true,
the poorest as well as the richest In
the community being able to enjoy
the best music, Interpreted by the
living touch of the finest musicians.
Imagine a musical Instrument
weighing two hundred tons, when
built on a scale to supply New York
City, with a wiring system of twenty
five thousand subscribers, and cost
ing hundreds of thousands of dollars.
One by which, playing as they would
on a piano or an organ keyboard,
musicians may produce not only ap
proximations of the known instru
ments, but hundreds of new tone
qualities never heard before, and can
change any tone at will into any
other conceivable quality.
Imagine nn Instrument that has
absolutely certain intonation, no note
of which can ever be out of tune, and
having three times as many tones to
the octave as the piano, these finer
shadings of Intonation ennbling mu
sicians to produce a "velvety smooth
ness of harmony unfamiliar to musi
cal ears since the days of Palestrlna,"
as one prominent musical critic has
written about it.
Imagine bedridden sufferers In
sick rooms and hospital wards being
soothed and engrossed with concerts
by the foremost instrumentalists,
without even turning In bed, and
with no Intrusion upon their privacy
by the musicians, who in this case,
are miles away.
Fourteen years ago, Thnddeus
Cahill, a native of Iowa, already the
Inventor of several practical im
provements in the typewriter, con
ceived the Idea o'f a musical instru
ment with a keyboard, the keys of
which should control vlbratorily
timed electric currents. Special dy
namos, each with its own rapidity
of alternations, were found neces
sary; each rate of alternations corre
sponding to the vibratory rate of the
sound of musical notes, according to
the law which makes the pitch of a
note the result of Its vibratory rapid
ity. These currents, vibrating tele
phone diaphragms In unison with
their own alternations, should pro
duce the music as played.
After years of difficulties he was
backed by men prominent In the op
eration of electric utilities. Last year
two hundred tons of elaborate mech
anism were installed in a building at
New York. The wiring system was
extended to several outside points in
the city where special service was
rendered as early as November last.
The wonders of the process created
widespread Interest and many thous
ands of New York's amusement seek
ers and music-lovers attended the
performances. Among the novel fea
tures was the rendering of the music
from ordinary arc-lights as the musi
cians played.
On January 23, at the Hotel Im
perial, a wedding took place, the mu
Snuke-ltite Lancet.
According to Consul-General W.
H. Michael, of Calcutta, a lancet in
vented by Sir Lauder Brunton, called
the "snake-bite lancet," has been in
troduced In India with splendid re
sults. It Is being widely distributed
by the authorities to police outposts
In Bengal and Assam, the central
provinces and united provinces, and
also to all village officials by some ot
the native States in upper and cen
tral India. A report by one person
Is to the effect that he had saved the
lives of twenty persons bitten by
cobras and karalts within the last
year by the use of, one lancet. The
use of this simple instrument may
be the means of saving thousands of
lives annually in India and hence will
prove a great blessing. Consular
Report.
Look Happy.
In a recent address of Professor O.
L. McKay, to Iowa dairymen, he
called attention to this condition, viz:
"Why, do you know that in some
of the European countries to-day they
are dairying successfully on land
worth from $400 to $1000 per acre?
The same markets are open to our
people that are open to those people,
and no duty bars the way. The dif
ference Is right here; they are dairy
ing intelligently with good cows.
Their average is nearly 300 pounds
of butter per cow, while ours is about
140 pounds per cow. We need a
great awakening among the produc
ers' of this State along intelligent
lines of dairying; Just such an awak
ening as has taken placa arasng the
torn pioiucajg." '
D. 2000 Here.
w
HERBERT.
sic for the service being played by
the musicians a mile away, who were
kept In Instant touch with the cler
gyman by telephone. . As electric
current travels faster than 190,000
miles a second, It can be readily seen
that no time was lost In transmis
sion of either signals or music cur
rents. On January 31 the leading spirits
of the New York Musical Therapeu
tic Society, practicing and developing
the world-known principle of apply
ing music to curative purposes, per
ceived and Immediately took advan
tage of a totally unforeseen possi
bility in the telharmonic system. Pre
scribing music had been merely a.
matter of approximation, filling such
a prescription on the part of musi
cians purely guesswork. The cura
tive principle of music is based, of
course, on the vibratory effect upon
the nervous system through the audi
tory nerve. Now, for the first time,
the exact intensity and precise rapid
ity of the vibrations could be con
trolled and made formulae. Further,
musicians could not be readily in
truded upon the privacy of the slclc
room. Now all was changed. Wir
ing and receivers may be installed
anywhere, and the musicians may be
miles away. And so the Society for
mally adopted this as the only scien
tific method of applying muslcaf
therapeutics, and this form of prac
tice, which has hitherto suffered alt
the handicaps and disparagements,
which medicine would have If the
pharmaclst were without scales, is to
take Its place as an exact science
wlth materia medica.
On February 17, at another hotel,
a religious service was held, all the
ten musical numbers, hymns, an
thems and solos being sung by the
choir and congregation to the music
rendered by the distant musicians at
the central station. As before, the
telephone kept the players in instant
touch with the order of the Bervice.
During March two notable events
occurred. The first was the com
pletely successful wireless transmis
sion of telharmonic music current
by Dr. Lee De Forest of wireless ,
telegraphy fame, listeners anjoying a
concert program at a nearby hotel,
others in the sky-scraping tower of
the New York Times building, others
at the Government's wireless station
at the Brooklyn Navy Yard, six miles
away from the musicians, and yet
others on board the U. S. S. Virginia,
lying off Staten Island in the harbor,
nearly ten miles away. In all these
cases the air, the ether, was the only
transmitting medium of the currents.
The amazing prediction Is made as a
scientific certainty, that In a year or
two, passengers on ocean greyhounds,
bound to or from the port of New
York, will have concerts when within
a thousand miles of the musicians
at the central station.
The public wonder had scarcely
subsided when Dr. B. F. Tracy, a
practitioner of electrical therapeu
tics and an M.D. of note, conducted
a series of experiments upon patients
afflicted with various stages of deaf
ness. Of five students, deaf mutes,
from the New York Institute for the
Instruction of Deaf Mutes, two of
whom were congenital cases, deaf
from birth, all were able to experi
ence the sensation of tone; one by
the sound wave from the horn and
receivers, by reason of the sound
being scientifically perfect, with a
wonderful carrying or penetrating
power, and two others by bone con
duction, the telephone receivers be
ing pressed directly upon the skull at
different points. The others, the
congenital cases, experienced sensa
tions pleasurably equivalent to the
sensations of tone, by the direct ap
plication of the current from the dy
namos upon their scalps by small
electrodes or wet sponges at the ends
of the wires. '
Overwork a Waste of Time.
Overstrained faculties can never
bring out the best results. Overwork
Is always a waste of time, and
though it may not seem to be so at
first, eventually the sad truth is al
ways, manifested. To cut off needed
recreation, to curtail the hours of
sleep, to postpone a holiday indefi
nitely, to refuse to take rest and ease
and change, under the impression
that thus time is saved, Is always a
short-sighted policy and often a fatal
mistake. The time arrives when the
poor, abused faculties take their re
venge and refuse to serve altogether,
or do in so feeble a fashion as to
show their deterioration.
Razor Strops.
These are prepared from strips of
linoleum of the usual length and
width, left for twenty-four hours in
a one-eighth to one-fourth per cent
solution of hartshorn salt, to which
one and one-half per cent of alum
has previously been added, at the or
dinary temperature; the strips are
then dried at the normal tempera
ture, rubbed with soap and polished
with pumice stone. They are finally
fastened in the usual manner to
wooden handles. Strops made in this
way will give a smooth sharp edge
to the razor. Scientific American.
Where tho Wild Beasts Are.
A little girl a Great Totham, Es-';
sex, when asked to write about wild
animals and the countries they in
habit, wrote:, "Wild animals used to
abound in England, but new they
are only to be found In the Theologi-
& Gardens." Lloyd's Weekly.