FREELfiP TRIBUNE. ESTABLISHED 1888. PUBLISHED EVERY MONDAY, WEDNESDAY AND FRIDAY, BY TIIB TRIBUNE PRINTING COMPANY. Limitcil OFFICE; MAIN STREET ABOVE CENTUB, LUNA DISTANCE TELEPHONE. SUBSCRIPTION RATES FREE LAND.—l'he TRIBUNE is delivered by I carriers to subscribers in Freolaud at the rata | of 12V6 cents per month, payable every two \ months, or $1 00a year, payable in advance- j Tho TRIBUNE may bo ordered direct form tlin i carriers or from tho oflloe. Complaints of j , irregular or tardy delivery sorvico will re- j Ceive prompt attention. BY MAIL —Tho TRIBUNE is sent to out-of. } town subscribers for sl.6!ia year, payable in ! advance; pro rata terras for shorter periods. . The date when tho subscription expires is ou i the address label of each paper. Prompt re newals must he made at the expiration, other wise the subscription will he discontinued. Entered at the Pnstofflce at Freeland. Pa. as Second-Class Matter, Make all money order*, check*, etc. ,payable to the Tribune J'rinling Company, Limited. Aii Englishman of distinction mak ing ills first visit in the United States brought it to a close in Washington, and called at the White House in com pany with an American friend. A pub lic reception was in progress, and, falling into line, ho paid his respects to the president first in that way, and subsequently met him for a few mo ments in a private audience He laughingly explained to tho president that being in America he wanted to do as the Americans did. As they walked away together, the American asked the Englishman what had impressed him most in our free government. "The accessibility of tho chief magis trate, and the absence of all arms and force from his official residence," was tho Englishman's reply. "Links with the past" has been a standard headline in the English, news papers ever since tire new century be gan. The theme is an old one, but many of the examples cited have been most interesting. It would seem impos sible, for example, if it were not proved that Miss Courtenay, who signs her self an octogenarian, could have talked with the boatman who took out Mr. Alexander Pope for his constitutional row at Richmond. From Paris an even more striking instance is reported. A gray-haired prisoner was brought be fore the police justice lor some trifling misdemeanor. "Have you no rela tives?" asked the judge. "No. My parents aro long since dead, and ray only brother also died a hundred and thirty years ago." "A hundred and thirty years! No trifling with tho court," cried the outraged justice. "But I'm not joking, your honor," said tho prisoner. "Just listen. Mr father married young, at 19, and within a year had a child born who died short ly alter birth. After the death of his first wife, lie married again, at the ago of 7fi, and I am the offspring of that marriage. I am now nearly 73 years old. Reckon up, if you please, and see if my only brother did not die 120 years ago." The justice could only admit this apparently incredible link wltn the past. ENGLAND'S MEW SWORD. Made to Thrust, Because the Old One ' Would Not Cut. That (he rifle is mightier than the sword is an uncontrovertible fact; but that the sword will be finally sheathed I as an unusable weapon in modern war is not true, despite the endeavor ol : tho pen to prove tho worthlessness of' it. As a shock weapon the sword 1 holds no place with the lance, but its liandiness in pursuit is undeniable if the sword be of the right kind. In South Africa our weapons, made os tensibly to cut, were used by our troopers to belabor fugitive Boers in vain efforts to make a cut, and cess that flagellation would appear to be (he proper term to apply. Recognis ing this, the war office is going to arm the hussars with a new sword, wnose chief use will be to tbrust. The edge of a sword cannot be maintained upon prolonged service, but General Grant, the inspector general of cav alry, in recommending a new sword, suggests the preservation of a cer tain degree of sharpness by the use of leather scabbards. The new sword will he modeled on the pattern now in use, which was introduced in 1899, but with certain modifications, con forming with tho Italian school. Tho hilt will be broader, to give* freedom to tho thrust, and the point will taper more, making the weight about a pound less. The new sword will in troduce more thoroughly the Floren tine system of fencing, to which the inspector or gymnastics, Colonel Mal colm Fox, lias for so many years pin ned h:s faith, and whose value its chief exponents, Captain Edgeworth- Johnstone. Sergeant Major Betts and ex-Staff Sergeant Foerster, have so often demonstrated in open competi tion. Swnrdmakers believe in tiis thrusting weapon, provided it is heavy enough to meet tho rough usage of a campaign. T! -s is just what the new sword will • - an unbreakable rapier of the bu,: ' bind. It has been decided to hold a carni val in -./ cine '. I- > Scotia, next sum mer I i T> c sports, rowing and v 5 An Affair of Honor. When I was last in Paris I had a letter of introduction to the Countess de Clairmont, who lived in a venera ble mansion in the Faubourg TSt. Ger main, near the ancient abbey church. I found her to be an aged lady of a very old family, a vory devout church goer, and a bigoted Legitimist, believ ing in "divine right" and the Count de Chambord, and fully expecting that he and his white flag would rule the destinies of Franco when Orleanists, Bonapartists and Republicans would be forgotten. Apart from dogma and politics she was, however, a very charming and interesting person. She had evidently been very handsome in her youth, and even in her old age retained a little coquetry and much spirit At the recital of somo deed of daring and heroism her black eyes would flash and sparkle and her lips tremble with emotion. It was like going back to the past century to sit in her dim drawing room, with its quaint old furniture, rich and relig iously preserved, hung with portraits of her ancestors, and hear her talk ot warriors, priests and nobles, whose mitres and swords had decayed, and whose moldy and moth-eaten banners, waving in church and chapel, are but tattered rags with the blazonry illegi ble. Ono day I was looking at the por trait of a lady so lovely, with a sweet and melancholy beauty, that even the disfiguring costume of the last cen tury, especially the abominablo high head dress, could not mar its effect, for you looked only on the face and forgot the accessories. It was from the pencil of Mine. Lebrun, the fa- I vorlte artist of Marie Antoinette, who | has left us such touching souvenirs ■ of the unhappy queen. "That lady, I am sure, had a story," f said. "I need not ask if tho original was a relative of yours, Madame, for I see a family likeness in the head." "You are right," she said. "That portrait might pass for my own like ness as I looked 50 years ago. I have a miniature taken at the same age which looks like a reduced copy of Mme. Lebrun's charming picture." "And the lady was—?" "Pardon me," said the old countess; "I will tell you her story at full length. It Is an old family history, but it is thought to havo somo of the ele ments of romance. Perhaps it may be of some future use to you as a story teller in your own country. So arm yourself with patience, cousin, and hear with an old woman's garrulity." The old lady called me cousin be cause at some far away period there was a matrimonial alliance between our families, long before my grand father emigrated to America. I will not attempt to relate the nar rative in the language of my hostess, hut condense it and tell it in my own way. The original of Mme. Lebrun's pic ture, then, was Victorlno do Grantier, wife of Hector do Grantier, a gentle man of wealth anil family. The mar riage was an exception to the general rule of French marriages, being a love match. The parents of tho lady had permitted her to choose a husband for herself; and though among her many suitors were some more eligible in point of fortune and opportunities for rising in the world than Hector, she gave him her hand because she could bestow her heart with it. De Grantier was liandsomie, gentle /ml warm hearted. He had no vices, and but little ambition. He was a poet and a painter, though not a profession al one, and he was in easy circum stances, although not reckoned a man of wealth. Never was there a happier couple, and when tho bride's father and moth er, who died within a few clays of each other, left the world almost hand in hand, the certainty of leaving their daughter tho partner of a man devoted to her, heart and soul, soothed their last moments. There was a shad", of melancholy in Vlctorlne's nature, and she often thought to herself that her married life was too happy—that it was like a still, bright, summer day, so perfect so full of sunshine, so heavenly, that weather seers pronounce it too lovely to last, and regard it, with shaking heads, as the precursor of a devastat ing storm. ! And the storm that wrecked the happiness of Victorine was near at hand. Among her rejected suitors was a wild, boid man, named Raoui Mal travers, an onsign in the royal navy of a very distinguished family high In power at court, who might well look forward to the prospect of seeing the broad pennant of an admiral float ever his own quarter deck. But, with aii the qualities of a noble race, he was I stained with many vices. He was a | gamester, a duellist and a libertine; prodigal with his gold, cruel with his ! sword and fatal in his hates. Although his rejection was couched | in the most respectful terms, it roused I his worst passions, and ho swore to wreak a deadly vengeance on the rival j who prospered where he had failed, j The hand he could not win himself should never be clasped in wedlock by another. In this temper of mind he went to sea. It must be borne in mind that this project of vengeance waa a secret locked in his own heart, to be di vulged in action, not in words. There fore, when', some months after the marriage, the ensign returned from his cruise, the incident did not create any alarm in the breast of Mme. Victorlno do Grantier. Cue morning when she awoke she missed her husband from her side, but this caused her no surprise, for he was in the habit of rising without disturbing her, dressing, and then tak ing a ride on horseback. But he al ways returned to breakfast, which was served punctually at 11 o'clock in the forenoon. When, therefore, it came to be nearly noon, and he did not make iiis appearance, she was naturally un easy His horse was very spirited and might possibly have thrown him, she thought But, on inquiry, it appeared that the animal was in his stall, and that M. do Granthier had left the house on foot Mme. de Granthier ordered the breakfast tilings removed, after mak ing a slight repast and then took up a hook to while away the time until her husband's return. At 1 o'clock a visitor was announced —Capt. Paul Beauregard, an officer in the French Guards. He was an intimate friend of De Grantier, as well as of the lady, and scarcely a day passed without their seeing him. "My husband. Have you seen any thing of him?" she asked. "I have boon with him all the morn ing, ma'iame." "Where is he? Why did he not re turn with you? How has he been en gaged?" Capt.. Beauregard replied to the last question: "In an affair of honor, madame." "A duel?" "Yes; and he has been wounded. I thought it best to prepare you for the accident" "He is dead," shrieked the unhappy lady, as 3be fell back in convulsions, [or she had read the truth in the cap tain's face. Beauregard rang the bell and left her in charge of her maid, while he went into another room. It was agony bitter as the pangs of death to listen to her wails and sobs and shrieks; but in an hour Florette, the waiting maid, pale, frightened, with swollen eyes, for she, too, had been weeping bitter ly, came to say that Madame de Gran tier was calmer and desired to speak with the captain. The officer found the lady white as marble, but strangely quiet and col lected. "Hector is dead?" ehe half asked half asserted. Her friend drooped his eyes. The .nswer was sufficient. "Now tell me how this happened," said the lady. "Hector was kind and gentle and courteous. Ho had no ene my—how could he have, for he never wronged a human being." "That did not prevent his having an enomy—a mortal foe—who last night publicly insulted him and thus forced a challenge from your husband." "Ay, honor compelled Hector to draw the sword. But tho name of that vil lain —tho murderer?" "Raoul Maltravers." "He, the man whoso hand I rejected? Oh, my poor, dear murdered Hector. Why did we ever meet? Fatal was the hour in which you saw and loved me. Often have your lips told me that I had mado you the happiest of men. t.ittle did you dream that I would giv you death as well as love." "I implore you, madam," said the captain, "not to view this tragedy in that light. An unforeseen calamity lias fallen on you, and my heart bleeds at sight of your distress. But I can do more than pity; I can and will avenge Hector. Raoul Maltravers dies by my hand." "Hold!" cried the widow, with sud den and startling energy. "I forbid you to espouse this quarrel. I have my own purpose of vengeance, and no man, not even you, shall he permitted to stand between me and my predes tined victim. He has robbed me of more than life, but I will requite him 1 was a fond, weak, gentle, loving, happy girl. They who know me hence forth will know me as a tigtess thirst ing for human blood. But no word of this to others. Bo my friend in this extremity, as you were his true and loyal friend to the last moment, and conduct the funeral rites. You see how calm I am when I can speak these words without convulsions." When Victorine was si Oil o with her dead she had a wild outburst of pas sionate grief, but it rapidly gave place to a calmness so stern that it would have appalled an observer had there been witnesses in the chamber of death. "Hector de Grantier," she said, ad dressing the cold clay, "if my Creator spares my life, your son, whom your eyos were never to behold, shall be your avenger. I will rear him strong, valiant, skillful, and teach him to look for no happiness, no rest, no employ ment, until he ban slain the man who has robbed you of life, me of a hus band and himself of a father." Two months after the funeral tlio friends of the family were apprised that the widow lady was the mother of a—daughter. Shortly after this event she retired with her infant child to an estate in Brittany. Sixteen years passed away and then Mme. d'e Grantier, still wearing wid ow's weeds, again resumed uer resi dence in Paris. Sho lived in a fashion ahle quarter, but in great privacy, re ceiving only relatives, making no ac quaintances. Her daughter. Claudino, had grown up a beautiful girl, the pic ture of health —a bright (lower to bloom In the almost conventual gloom of her mother's house. The only frequent visitor was the young Chevalier do Hauteville, a cou sin of Claudlne, and strange to say, a perfect, image of the girl—the same height, features and complexion. The gossips of the neighborhood said they were born for each other and predicted a marriago between the parties. But the servants of the family asserted that the old lady would never, for some rea son of her own, probably that of near ness of blood, permit the alliance, and that the young people rarely, if ever, met. It was observed that whenever Claudino had gone to church the che valier was sure to rnahe his appearance and when he was in the drawing room she was always absent, Whether this was arranged by the mo'thor or wheth er this young woman and this young man, so strangely alike, cherished an antipathy equally strange, was a mys tery, like almost everything else in this mysterious household. Had the widow, foiled in her plan ol vengeance by the sex of her offspring, forgotten or forgiven Raoul Maltra vers? No one knew, but no one ever heard her pronounce his name. Meanwhile Raoul Maltravers had left the sea, not being particularly fond of the mausic of heavy guns, for though brave enough on tlio due! ground, be cause he was the best blade in France, and always sure of victory, ho was really a poltroon. He had married a very beautiful heiress, and lived in great splendor. He had more than one affair of honor after his marriage, with a fatal result to his antagonists. One day the Chevalier de Hauteville ruade a morning call on Mme. de Gran tier. He found her in her boudoir, which was draped with black, and lighted with wax tapers. "You know this is a sad anniversa ry," she said. Then she added, with a sharp look of inquiry: "Raoul Mal travers." "Dead," was the reply. "Come to my heart," cried Vietorine. "Claudine, you have avenged your fa ther." "Claudine!" I exclaimed, in utter astonishment, when the old countess had come to this point of her narra tive. "Yes," she replied, "the Chevalier de Ilauteviile and Claudine de Grantler were one and the same person. Mme. de Grantier had reared her daughter like a man and trained her to arms in the solitude of her old provincial man or house, where a wondrously skilled professor of the sword, an Italian, gave her lessons daily. You must not think too harshly of the memory of Vletorine de Grantier. lam now positively cer tain that the death of her husband turned her brain, and that during all the years of her widowhood she was a monomaniac. That she inspired her daughter with he.r fanatical idea of vengeance is natural —the mother lived for no other purpose." "But what became of Claudine?" "She is still living at an advanced age, a widow," replied the countess. "Doubtless harrowed by remorse for having shed human blood?" "It caused her great suffering far years, but the clergy whom she con sulted told her that the circumstances absolved her from ail moral guilt. She was an Irresponsiole agent of her mother —her judgment deliberately perverted by one wno had herself lost the power of reason. Yet were many l ours of bitter sorrow and penitence passed by that unhappy woman. And now let me show you a sad relic." The old lady rose, walked to an ebony cabinet and unlocking it took out a long, old-fashioned rapier and hade me draw it. I took forth the Made and remarked that it was cov ered with rust. "Those darker stains are the life blood of a man," said tho old lady, with a heavy sigh—"for that was the sword with which I killed Raoul Mal travers." "You?" I cried. "Yes; for before I became Countess de Clairmont. I was Claude de Gran tier." —New York News. FIJIAN FIRE CEREMONY. Nutlves Who Wftlkod Over Red Hot Stone* with Impunity, Two New Zealand medical men, Drs. Hocken and Colquohoun, recently vis ited Fiji, where they had an opportu nity of witnessing the now rare fire ceremony of the natives. It is so rare that the power is now confined to a single family living on an islet 21) miles from the Fijian metropolis, Suva. These people are able to walk, nude and with bare feet, across the white-hot, stony pavement of a huge oven. An attempt was made on this occa sion to register the heat, but when the thermometer had been placed for a few seconds about five feet from the oven it had to be withdrawn, as the solder of the covering began to melt. The thermometer then registered 282 degrees, and Dr. Hocken estimates that the range was over 400 degrees. The fire walkers then approached, seven in number, and in single file walked leisurely across and around the oven. Heaps of hibiscus leaves were then thrown into the oven, causing clouds of steam, and upon the leaves arid within the sieam the natives sat or stood. The men were carefully ex amined by the doctors before and af ter the ceremony. The soles of their feet were not thick or leathery, and were not in the least blistered. The men showed no symp toms of distress, and their pulse was unaffected. Preliminary tests failed to show that there had been any spe cial preparation. Both doctors, while denying that there was anything mi raculous about the experiment, ex pressed themselves as unable to give any scientlUe explanation.—London Chronicle. Twenty years ago kerosene oil was practically unknown in more than 100,000,000 gallons were im ported. WHAT FISH EAT. Mont Deniznna of tlie Deep 1,1 ve on Ani mal SubuincoM, There are many thousand species of fishes, and naturally there is a great diversity in their food. Never theless, it is possible to divide it into seven distinct classes. Now, all the animal life rests on a foundation of vegetables. Plants store up the vital forces in the air and sunshine and pass them on to the great army of vegetarians, who in their turn yield tliem up to the animals which live on flesh. One or two additional steps may sometimes be interposed, hut the result is the same. A caterpillar eats a cabbage, an ichneumon fiy quarters her brood on the caterpillar, an in sect-eating bird snaps up the fly, and a bird of prey pounces upon the fly catcher and finishes the story. The Inevitable order is plant, vegetarian, flesh-eater. The vast majority of fishes feed on fishes or other animals found in the sea. Probably, however, the vege tarians are more numerous than ar generally supposed. For instance, ail the text books declare that the gray mullet feeds on the living matter ob tained by straining sand or mud in its mouth, which doubtless is true, but they go on to explain that owing to the peculiar construction of its throat larger bodies aro prevented from passing into the stomach, which is not true. No amount of letter press will persuade a band's End fisherman that a gray mullet cannot or Joes not eat seaweed; he is convinced from a life long observation of its habits that it does, and the fact that the fish's stomach is often found full of sea weed proves that the fisherman is right. Fishes which undoubtedly catch and swallow living prey are wont on occasion to treat themselves to a dish of vegetables. I have just assisted at the post-mortem examina tion of a bream, which contained in addition to a crab large helpings of two kinds of seaweed in different stages of digestion. But doubtless it Is a fact that fishes live for the most part on animal diet, and it Is obvious that this must con sist largely of some other class than their own. If fishes ate fishes only the race would soon become extinct. Fortunately the sea is full of life, and for those which cannot or will not eat seaweed there are worms innumer able, jelly fishes, star fishes and sea urchins, the great host ; living In shells from the oyster to Hie periwin kle and the limpet, crabs and all oth er kindred, and lastly other fishes. The appetite must be capricious, in deed, which cannot find something to tempt it among all this vast array.— Newport News Herald. QUAINT AND CURIOUS. Japan is the country where the cremation of corpses is practiced on the largest scale. The custom dates back about 1200 years. Among the British peers who have inherited barren titles Is the young Earl of Seafield, who at the age of 12 succeeded to an earldom, two viscoun ties and two baronies, without so much at; a single acre of land to maintain his dignities. At no point is the River Jordan nav igable for any considerable distance, eien by small craft, and during its course it fall over 1200 feet. In addi tion to these drawbacks it presents the unique spectacle of a river flowing into a sea in which there cannot be found one living creature. Barbaric African tribes hold the um brella in high honor, in King Coffee of Ashanti's reign the greatest mark of regal favof that could be conferred on a distinguished guest was the gift of a sunshade adorned in savage style with the teeth of animals, the claws of birds, human jawbones and rough lumps of gold. The medicine men of these African tribes are invariably at tended by an umbrella bearer. Slot machines providing meals have been introduced in London. The re freshments are arranged on a long buf fet behind a glass screen. On putting four pennies one after another into the slot the screen rises and a tray hold ing a teapot, milk jug, sugar Ikiwl nnd cup ana saucer comes within reach. The teapot contains tea leaves and hot water can be drawn from a public tank. Two pennies produce a roil with butter, or sandwiches, or bath buns, and other slots yield temperance drinks and confectionery. "Speaking of curious wills," said a Georgian, "the will of Col. W. H. Jackson of Athene, Ga, a member of one of the best known families in our states, provided that a massive oak tree that he owned, around which he had played and which he had been taught to love as a child and later as a man, should, in the language of the document, 'have entire possession of itself and of all land within eight feet ot it on all sides.' No one ever con tested his will, and the oak still stands as its own owner." Exploration has now revealed relies of Menes, the founder of the Egyptian monarchy, fashioned more than 6500 years ago. Of Zer, the successor to Menes, it is astonishing to find th 4 forearm of his queen still in its wrap pings, with four splendid bracelets in tact. This brilliant and exquisitely finished group of jewelry is 2000 years older than the jewelry of Dahshur, the oldest up to then known. The arm of the queen had been broken off by the first plunderers and had lain in a hole in the wall of the tomb. PERILS OF BANKS FISHERMEN. About Onco in TITO Ly Two Men in ■ Dory Are Lout from tlm Rliip* The present season, owing to the prevalence of fogs on the Great Banks or fishing ledges, the sentinel ol the Newfoundland coast, has been remark able for more driftaway fishermen than any year during the past decade. The shipping records of the colony show a total of 94 of these men landed in colonial ports up to July 33. L * lo first three months of the fishing pe riod. They are always in pairs, two men to a dory, a flat bottomed, light riding boat, especially built to breast the surges on the Banks. This represents 47 boats, and that i 3 roughly one for every two days of the fishing. Besides these there is the great number who never are heard of again, their dories being swamped. This is the chief disaster which threat ens them, and it leaves them no salva tion. A. dory never swamps when she is light, that is, empty; when she is y heavy (laden with fish) a comber will r w strike her and boat and men will go down like stones. Sometimes, how ever, the boat is merely capsized, and then the occupants, if they can, ber on the bottom and remain there till rescued, or till the relentless sea claims them for its own. A remarkable case was reported re cently. William Johnson and David Hawkins of the schooner Nerns had their dory capsized and got on her bot tom. There they remained all evening and night, but next morning Hawkina was stricken and slid into the water. It is a dangerous business to get on and off these boats in mid ocean, but Johnson contrived to place Hawkins once more in comparative safety. But it was only for a short time. Within an hour tne poor fellow rolled off again, crying "Save me." His mate saw he was beyond saving, for he died almost as he was swept into the sea, but he determined to save the body. He fastened it to the boat's headrope. and there it remained until he was res cued at eventide by a boat from an other vessel, when he Insisted that the body be taken with him, where it way preserved with ice and salt until the ship reached land and he could gi\ e it burial. These bankmen ape most daring and venture north into Belle Isle strait al most before the winter ice floes are broken up. Two other fisliors, Henry Davis and Joseph Carroll of the schooner Petunia, fishing in that lo cality were brought to shore a fort night ago, having been five days adrift . without food or water. They were at tending to their trawls or lines some distance from their ship when they got enmeshed in the floes. Fog also enveloped them, and the decomposing ice masses caused greater danger than, the seas. For their frail craft would bo helpless against a blow from the jagged, unruly fragments tossing about and in the icy tumble of seas lay no hope of safety. f ~ They drew their little boat onto the surface of the largest mass within reach, and on this they floated about for three days. They had not a mor sel to eat# and the ice was so saturated with salt spray that they dared not use it to cool their thirst. They gnawed their leather belts, and on the fourth day, being carried toward the land launched the boat again and tried to reach it. They did get part way, but the wind fell, their sail was worthless, and they were too weak to row. The fourth day they lay help less and almost dying in the bottom of the boat, but during the afternoon were descried and rescued by a passing ves sel bound for l#abrador, which landed them at the most convenient harbor as she passed uy. Two others, Daly and Clarens from the schooner Niagara, losing their ves sel in a storm on the outer edge of the Banks, and Knowing that she was d.riv- / en south beyond their reach, resolute- ly determined to make for the shore. Having no sail they had to row the whole distance, 120 miles. They spent three days and nights doing it, during which time they had nothing to eat but a few fresh fish lying in the boat's bottom, their only drink being a quart of water in two bottles. Many other cases like this could be cited, but the most hazardous ventures with the sea are merely daily routine witli these people.—Chicago Record- Herald. To tho Polo bv IVfro. The conditions surrounding Arctic travel are such that the principal diffi culty is found in maintaining com munication with a base of supplies, it is believed that wireless telegraphy has now reached a point where at least it promises such development that fu ture exploring parties will be able to*, carry along apparatus and keep stantiy in touch with their base camps. If this proves to bo the case much of the terror of the Arctic will be re moved, and exploration will be mado both easier and safer, with the possi bility that this added instrumentality will enable the discovery of the pole at no far distant date.—Electrical Re view. How to Detort b Clia| Plwe. "It takes a rainy spell to show up a cheap shoe dealer. "It can be spot ted by an observer on a rainy day, though it may have come within an hour from the store. Watch the feet of people the next time it rains and you can pick out the inexpensive shoes. A cheap shoe always slips when the pavements are wet. Artificial stone pavements especially show them up. me sole of a cheap, common shoe is made of imitation leather, composed of pressed paper, and water softens—, it and makes the wearer slide alonglK, while walking. You can always tell a i cheap shoe in this way."—lndianapo lis .News. > W I
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers