SLiie Cljntljam Record H. A. LOIS DO, CDITOR AND PROPBOR. CM aije ljatl)au) Rccorb BATES ADVERTroINC One square, one insertion.. ... . fl.OO One squere, two insertions. ... l.fO One square, one month -. 2M terus of suDScniPTion, $1.50 FIB YEAR St, icily in Advance. VOL.XXII. P1TTSBORO, CHATHAM COUNTY, N. C, THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 14, 1899. NO, 3. For larger advertisements llberaf contracts will be made. J aw o ! CHAPTER XVIII (Continued.) It was a difficult task to keep Robert on his feet until the sidewalk was reach ed. The exertion of descending the 6tairs rendered him more limp than ever; but now the little breeze stirring fanned his hot face and he perceptibly straightened up, though his mind was in a chaos and he knew nothing of where he was. At this moment a young man rapidly approached from the south. ''Why, Bob! Bob!" he exclaimed. "I never saw you ia this condition before. It will never do for you to go home. Come. Mother and sister have retired. You shall accompany me." "I I don't know you. I I'm hie all right." "Don't know me! Why, Bob, I am Lawrence Terry. I am just from a meet ing of the bank directors. It i3 nearly twelve o'clock; there are hardly any peo ple on the street come!" "He is pretty full," said the man who was yet sustaining him. "Pray where did you encounter him, sir?" .. "Oh, he was up stairs trying his luck. I was afraid he would fall and helped him down." "Come, Robert!" And Terry clasped his other arm. i "G'way from me. I don't know you." : "Best to humor him, Mr. Terry. I will help you to a hotel with him. Perhaps you may then get him home." One on each side of Robert, the three men staggered along staggered for the reason that Robert's reeling pulled and pushed them from side to side. Crossing the mouth of an alley between Monrce and Madison streets, Robert ap parently made a .tremendous lurch, and the three men disappeared within the dark alley. The cashier, who was o"n the Inside of the walk, stumbled and fell, and Robert went down nearly on top of him. One of the three did not fall, and two minutes later was back in the gambling rooms inquiring if he had dropped a silk handkerchief on the floor. "Yes," said the dealer, as he handed it to him. "The porter picked it up. What did you do with Kellogg?" "Oh, the man I assisted down stairs? Is that his name? I left him quarreling with a man on the street some one nam ed Terry, who wanted to take him home. Said he'd been to some directors' meeting. He seemed to know the young fellow all right, but Robert, as he called him, didn't want to go with him. He was crazy drunk." ; "Well, you left him in safe hands. Law rence Terry is the cashier of his father's bank. He will probably take him to his own home, or put him to bed in a hotel." "You say his father is a banker?" : "Yes, the president of the Great West ern Bank. Oh, the young man is all right. He takes his nip now and then, but I cever saw him drunk before. Something unusual must have started him." ; "I noticed that Terry remarked that it would never do for him to go home in that condition." "Best not, I should judge. Bob is all right. It is only one of the occurrences of a lifetime. But there goes a patrol wagon after some drunk. Hear the bell! Perhaps they are pulling the gambling houses. It's twelve o'clock. Everybody cash in! Take the back stairway, gentle men." In a minute's time there was a scramble by that way of exit. Almost at the moment the gentleman who had accompanied Robert to the street ,was inquiring for his handkerchief, a po lice ofBcer, rounding the block, was pass ing the alley. . A groan fell on his ears. He stepped forward and flashed his dark lantern. "Good God!" he exclaimed, as he blew his whistle and ran to the corner patrol box. "There has been murder done, sure." j Four officers were on the scene in a less number of minutes, and the patrol wagon with a physician quickly arrived. . "Here is Inspector Hunt now," said one of the officers. "Hey what is this?" Flat on his back in the stone-pared alley, lay Lawrence Terry, a dirk blade buried in his breast, and the hand of a man lying partly on top of him yet clutch ing the haft of the blade. "Heavens!" exclaimed the inspector, as two Tfcurly policemen removed to one side the uppermost man, after releasing his hold of the dirk haft. "God help us!" exclaimed the physician. "I recognize this man. "He is Lawrence Terry, the cashier of the Great Western Bank. He is yet alive. There may be hope. Quick! My bag from the wagon!" : "Here it is, doctor." ! "This dirk must be withdrawn, even if his life goes with it. How it clings! It has passed the ribs. Here, take it, in sector. You will want it. Quick! Now, then, if I can stanch this blood! Bring the stretcher. Easy now, easy! We wili convey him directly home. I will accom pany the wagon. Is that assassin in jured?" "No," replied one of the officers. "But he's dead drunk, or seems to be." "Look out for him, inspector. No time to lose in this case," said the doctor as be leaped into the wagon and gave the signal to start. But one body remained in the alley. "Let me get a look at the assassin's face." said Inspector Hunt, f "By the powers! That man is Robert Kellogg. He is the son of the president of the Great Western Bank. Of all the incomprehensible murders I ever heard of, this leads them!" A banker's son, drunk and crazy, murders the cashier of his father's bank. Has that other wag on arrived?" "I hear the bell. It is coming now, In spector." "Well, well! Mr. Kellogg, Robert 1" The officer was shaking the stupefied form with considerable energy; but Robert, now totally unconscious, was beyond speaking. Only ro&E eminateU lf?m hjg lips, i "Take him to the station and summon Dr. Wright. Sullivan, you go over and tell hi3 father to come to my office at once. Don't tell him hold on! Hold on, let him sleep until morning. The young man is dead drunk. Evidently uncon scious that he has committed murder. I will drive by the banker's before his morning papers are delivered. That is the best plan." As the officers were lifting the body into the wagon, a revolver fell from the young man's hip pocket. "Well, well!" exclaimed the inspector. "A revolver and a dirk! Doubly armed. I have heard that Terry was to marry this young man's eldest sister. Perhaps he objected and took this way to prevent the union. Move on,, men, move on!" The inspector was soon the only one left in the vicinity of the alley. "A horrible crime!" he exclaimed. "How came they here at this time of night. I wonder were they up playing the bank? Young Kellogg might be that way inclin ed occasionally, but I hardly think Terry was. I will run up." "Closed as tight as a drum. Lights out and no noise. Abe generally closes at twelve sharp. They were hardly here. "This blow will about kill the old man," mused the officer as he made his way to headouarters. "Terrv is dond this time. Being drunk will not save the boy's . neck. It's a plum case. I have the re volver and dirk. The ireat Western is decidedly in hard lines." Here the inspector entered his office and closed the door. CHAPTER XIX. At seven o'clock on the morning of the 21st, Inspector Hunt rang the doorbell at the Kellogg residence. Julia, the house maid, answered the summons. "Show me into the library, Julia," said the official, "and inform Mr. Kellogg that Inspector Hunt must see him at once." "He already in de lib'ry," said Julia as she led the way. "Oh, you, inspector? You are here early. You bring news!" "Very sad news," the inspector said, as he closed the door and dropped into a chair. "Very sad news, and I deeply regret that I am the bearer of it." "Speak it out, inspector!" exclaimed Mr. Kellogg, who saw that the officer hesitated. "Has the bank burned down?" "Worse than that," was the reply; "far worse. At five minutes to twelve last night, Lawrence Terry, the cashier of your bank, was found in an alley between Monroe and Madison streets with a dirk blade buried in his bosom." "Heavens! This is, indeed, terrible news that you bring me! He was dead?" "No, he lay in the alley unconscious when found, and was taken home as quickly as possible, accompanied by Dr. Keyes of our medical staff. I supposed he would die before reaching home, but he survived the trip. I am just from his bed side." "Then he yet lives?' "He does, and his physicians hope to pull him through. A daguerreotype in his breast pocket diverted the course of the blade. His ribs swerved it more. But it was a close call. He nearly bled to death. He is now conscious, but prohibited from speaking." "Poor boy, I must go to him at once! My daughter's portrait saved his life. He was doubtless on his way home from a meeting of cur board of directors. It was nearly twelve when Ave adjourned, Was the wretch captured who attempted his life?" "He is a prisoner in the station." "Oh, I am glad to hear that. I was not aware that the young man had an enemy. Oh, it was probably another robbery case. Where did you capture the fiend?" "He was found lying partly on the body of his victim. His hand yet clutched the hilt of the bloody blade, that was buried in Terry's bosom." "Horrible! Too horrible! Let me sum mon my carriage and notify Robert and Earl." And the banker arose to his feet. "Not yet," 6aid the officer, who was now perspiring freely and dreaded to speak further. "Wait. Your son is not in the house." "Ah, is he already at Terry's side? I knew not that he had left the house." "He was not at home last night." "Oh, that accounts for it. He had not returned when the crime was committed, and hearing of it, repaired there at once. I am very glad, but " "I have a hard task before me," thought the inspectorfbut I cannot delay." "Remember' he said, "Terry will re cover; there has been no murder done." "Tbat should not mitigate the punish ment of the assassin," observed the bank er. "The intent to do murder was there." "Oh, Lord!" thought the officer. "I wish I had deputed some one of my men to do this business." "I you know I informed you that the man who attempted the life of the cashier was found drunk, partly lying on his vic tim's body, with the dirk hilt clasped in his hand." "Yes; the wretch!" "He was unconscious as well as Terry. Dead drunk. Had been crazy drunk, prob ably. He yet lies, or did an hour ago, in a drunken stupor at the station. He may be unconscious that he has committed a crime. In fact. I am certain he is." "He should swing for it. Even if Terry lives, he should get twenty years." "This young man " "Young man! Assassin, you mean. Well?" "Mr. Kellogg, I would rather be kicked out of your house than go further. But but the young man whose hand clasped the dirk hilt and who lay unconscious on the form of your cashier was " "Who? Did you recognize him? Speak, man, speak! I cannot understand your delay. Name the assassin of Lawrence Terry." "God help you, I will! Robert Kellogg your son!" With a groan of anguish the stricken father sank again in his chair. "No, no, it is impossible! Unsay those words, Hunt, if you are a man!" "Would to God I could, sir; but they are too true." "True!" cried the old man, springing to his feet. "They are false! My boy an assassin a murderer! Never! There is some terrible mystery herel" "But, my dear sir, we " "Oh, I doubt not, Hunt, that it now ap pears so to you. The circumstances con vinced you; but there are no assassins in my family. I never knew the boy to get drunk before. Rejoicing over the improv ed, condition of hj sister, wfco hfts been at death's door, led to it. Ho, Thomas! Thomas, I say! "Yes, 6ir, I am here." "My carriage at once. Ah, Elinor, dear, I hoped to leave the house without at tracting your attention. Another blow a terrible blow, has befallen my family." "Dear, dear Stephen!" The widow's face was very pale as she cast one arm about the banker's form. "Lawrence Terry was assaulted on the street last night. A dirk blade was buried in his bosom. He lies at home apparent ly near death." "Not not dead, Stephen! Not dead?" "No, dear, not dead. His physicians hope to save his life. My daughter's da guerreotype diverted the blade aimed at his heart. Thank God, the dear girls are not at home." "Not dead?" "Bless you, no, dear. But Robert, my boy my boy is in a felon's cell, charged with the murder." "Impossible!" exclaimed the widow, trembling in every limb. "He was found lying partly on the body with the dirk hilt yet clutched in his hand. The blade was yet in the bosom of Ter ry." "A dirk! My God!" and the madam dropped limp into a chair. "The boy was unconscious drunk he was used by Terry's assailant to shield his own neck from the halter. Some wine for Mrs. Kellogg, Julia. Earl! Earl! Ah, here you are. Write a notice, 'This Bank Closed for the Day,' and post it on the door of the Great Western." "Your carriage is at the gate," observ ed the officer. "Yes; well, we will go." "Where first?" asked Hunt. "To my boy! Terry has attention." The banker kissed the white lips of his intended, and hurriedly left the house, fol lowed by the officer. "Of all the egregious blunders that ever occurred! That wretch " "Mother!" "Oh, I thought you were also gone. Earl." "What is all this about?" " "Why, Lawrence Terry was found on the street last night with a dirk blade buried In his breast. Robert Kellogg was found drunk by his side with one hand clutching the hilt of the dirk. He is lock ed up in the station charged with having committed the crime. That is all I know about it." "Well, that is the strangest thing I ever heard of," remarked Earl. "Why, it's incomprehensible. Some one aside from Robert sheathed that dirk in Terry's bosom." "Oh, you can't tell," said the widow. "He was drunk." "Will Terry die, mother?" "Hew should I know, Earl? If he does you will become cashier of the bank." "And Robert?" "Robert? Oh, well, he may be hung. But Terry is not dead yet." "Do you believe Robert to have been his assailant?" "Who else could have been? He was apprehended under the conditions as I have 6tated. You were surely in the house and asleep. Come, drink a cup of coffee and hurry" away. Return and. in form me of what you learn." (To be continued,") A Yanng Inventor. The power loom was the Invention of a farmer's boy, who had never seen or heard of such a thing. He fashioned one with his pen-knife, and when he got it all done he showed it with great enthusiasm to his father, who at once kicked it all to pieces, saying he would have no boy about him who would spend his time on such foolish things. The boy was sent to a blacksmith to learn a trade, and his master took a lively interest in him. He made a loom of what was left of the one his father had broken up and showed it to his master. The blacksmith saw he had no common boy 'as an apprentice and that the invention was a valuable one. He had a loom constructed under the supervision of the boy. It worked to their perfect satisfaction, and the blacksmith furnished the means to manufacture the loom, and the boy re ceived half the profits. In about a year the blacksmith wrote to the boy's father that he should visit him and bring with him a wealthy gen tleman who was the Inventor of the celebrated power loom, You may be able to judge of the astonishment at the old home when his son was presented to him as the in ventor, who tpld him that the loom was the same as the model that he had kicked to pieces the previous year. One Day's Fighting im Thirty. With an army in the field hardly one day in thirty is given to fighting. The other twenty-nine days of waiting must be lived through in order that every thing may be In readiness for the one day of work. It is not the one day of fighting which turns the hair of an offi cer gray, but the twenty-nine days of anxiety for his men, the supply of their food and clothing and the maintenance of health and good spirits among them. Men do not fight well in battle on emp ty stomachs, and yet the ordinary sol dier rarely takes care of the provisions which are Issued to him for forced marches. He eats them all at once or throws them away on account of their weight, and at the end of a long day's march he is hungry, with nothing to appease his hunger. Then comes the trouble. He does not reason. He grumbles and expects to be supplied with more. A Friend in Meed. A stranger, walking along a country road, met an Irishman, who was hold ing a ram by the horns, and the follow ing conversation took place: "Will you hold thisram," said the Irishman, "while I climb over and open the gate from the other side?" "Certainly," said the obliging stran ger, as1 he seized the ram by the horns. "Thanks," said the Irishman, when he got to the other side, 'the vicious brute attacked me about an hour ago, and we have struggled ever since. As long as you stand before him holding his horns, he can't hurt you. Fare well, I hope you will be as lucky In get ting away as I have been." I Seventeen miles a day is the average WOMAN'S WORLD LACE IS FASHIONABLE. lis Yog; ne Suggests a Means of Liveli hood For Some Women. Lace is so fashionable this year, so much more so than it has been, that everybody ought to know how to look after it, and the care required is by no means so easy a task as might be supposed. To begin with, the look of age adds greatly to its beauty, but beyond a certain point lace can look too yellow, and also can look not only old, but dirty, and care must be taken to avoid this. Lace should be put away in soft blue tissue-paper. It is thought that blue tissue-paper keeps it from turning, and the most valuable lace is always laid away in blue paper. The lavish use of lace has suggested a means of livelihood for some gentle women who had learned the art of lace-mending, and they are now mak idg an income by repairing and clean ing laces. In the first place, valuable lace cannot be intrusted to any one. The woman who has to clean it must have learned how to clean lace, and also how to make lace, for again and again a stitch or two will be dropped or broken, and the pattern must be made perfect. This can only be done by the most skilled fingers. The cleaning of lace is a long process, and even the lace barbes and the lace bows now commonly worn have to go through a long performance before they are made possible. An old-fashioned receipt for cleaning laco (a very good one, too) comes from England. The directions read that a good lather of soap should be made, in which the lace shall be put and left to stand for a short time; then put the lace into a second water and allow it to stand, and so on, until all traces of the soap are removed and the water is absolute ly clear once more. The lace is then taken and pressed between the hands never rubbed or squeezed. After this it is put in flannel, and the flan nel squeezed together hard with the palms of the band. The lace is then stretched on another flannel cloth and put to dry in the sun, great care being taken that the edges are all pulled out, so that each little loop shows to the best advantage. It is easily seen th it such a process will take a long time, but all these efforts are well worth while, for the lace looks like new if it is thoroughly well done. Laces should not be left to lie loose in a drawer among ribbons and the hundred and one odds and ends, but every woman, and every child too, should have a box where all her bits of lace should be placed. There should be several layers of blue tissue-paper, in which the lace should be carefully rolled. There should be, too, some delicate sachet-powder put into the box; if possible, a bit of the scented flannel that the Parisian dressmakers use so much. This flannel, as is well known, retains its perfume longer than anything else, but it is so very ex pensive that it is beyond the reach of most people, so it is well to have sachet that can be renewed. For this purpose nothing is better than equal parts of heliotrope or violet with orris root. This can be put in a sachet-bag underneath two or three layers of tissue-paper, so that no foreign sub stance shall come near the lace itself. Lace should never be put away fold ed, but should be rolled on rolls of blue tissue-paper. Harper's Bazar. The College Woman In Her Home. "Another means by which a wom an's success and happiness are se cured at home is in making herself felt as the mistress of the household," writes Kathariue Eoich, of "The College-Bred Woman in Her Home," in the Ladies' Home Journal. "She must bo the one to arrange hours of work, and not the servants. She must be the one to regulate the habits of the children, and not they them selves. It is for her to set the stand ard of the home life. Her position requires firmness, aud every member of the family should recognize and yield to her authority in her own do main. Let her assume with courage and dignity the authority which be longs to har, so that everyone shall feel she is equal to it, while at the same time she welcomes counsel and suggestion from others. There are women who are too ignorant or indif ferent to guide their homes success fully, and women too weak to meet the responsibility, women who are in terror of their servants, or slaves to the whims of children or husbands. It is not so that happy homes are made. ' Just as a man directs the work of his subordinates and keeps the control of all his business in his own hands, sc the woman who has a home to guide must be ready to assume and control the affairs of her household. Observation and experience go to show that as the years bring added re sponsibility, and also added comforts to the woman at home, she finds her restlessness growing less and her satisfaction growing deeper. The college recedes to its proper place as the academy of life, and the wife and mother realizes that heart and mind are filled to the utmost. Her great auxiety becomes rather to use all the opportunities open to her than to wish for others. She finds herself absorbed in her work without the feeling that she has been thwarted in her most serious ambitions." . . - - Monograms on Gloves. The two latest fancies of our fair English cousins, writes a smart American woman in London, is the embroidering of monograms on gloves and writing in white ink. Gloves made to order ' with monograms are t devoid of stitching on" the back, and ii. . - i me monogram 10 euioroiaerea in me center. Those which are purchased from, Btoo'fc and. then embroidered have the monogram set between the thumb seam and first row of stitch ing, and others have it placed on the wrist below the stitching. It is almost too soon to tell whether this new fancy is to be popular. It is certainly very striking, and is open to the seri ous objection that it has a tendency to make the hand-look larger than the ordinary glove. A glove of suede in the new bluet shade, with a white monogram in the middle of the back, is really to the conservative taste more striking than pretty. The use of a delicate white ink to correspond with a white crest or monogram is an exceedingly refined innovation. It may be used with very delicate tints, but is, of course, most telling on paper of some deep shade. Deep Russian blue or sultan red show 3 to great advantage under white ink. The very prettiest, how ever, are the wedgewood effects in a variety of shades of blue, the blue gray being the most effective. The monograms and crests used with wedgewood blue papers are of the tiniest, to carry out the wedgewood effect in its entirety. Of course noth ing but pure white wax must be used with this combination. Brooklyn Eagle. The New Silk Petticoat. The very latest petticoat may bo a forerunner of the bustle. It iia bil lowy creation with a deep ruffle, through the bottom of which a fine reed is run. At the back the lower half of the skirt hangs in folds. There are six folds, and through each one a reed is run, which makes the skirt stand out at the bottom with a stiff ness almost aggressive. At the waist line, however, the skirt is very flat. Women of fashion in buying silk pet ticoats these days order a shorter silk skirt to match, as well as a corset. Brocade is the silk most in favor, and both the skirt and the corset are em broidered exquisitely with th.3 owner's monogram. Lace flounces trim tho skirt, and a tiny frill of the same pat tern of lace finishes the corset at the top. The Handkerchief Press. The handkerchief gown, for which some dressmakers prophesied a season of popularity, has not made mueli of a stir as yet, for the reason that four fifths of the dresses are composed of such ethereal fabrics that anything with even a hint of solidity about it looks heavy and ungraceful. Never theless these pretty bordered squares are worn by many smartly dressed women. Farple-mauve, with borders of sulphur or saffron, subdued by faint checks of gray and black, is a smart combination. The tunic is especially pretty with a handkerchief dress, whether the points are in front and back or at the sides. In dark bine, bordered with pale blue, it is very ef fective. Languor Not Koinanltc, One by one old poetic idols are be ing shattered by the utilitarian and practical fin-de-siecle woman doctor. The latest iconoclast is responsible for the asseveration that what is so poeti cal in poetry and the old novels about the whiteness of the skiu means some thing not so poetical. It is due, she says, to the languor of the muscular tissues throughout the body, and the slowness and languor that was so of ten characterized as a charming femi nine attribute is associated with indi gestion, and is therefore thoroughly unromantic. Fashion's Fads and Fancies. Narrow black velvet ribbon is usel to trim colored pique gowns. Braids finished with a short fringe are among the new dress trimmings. Gray kid shoes with stockings to match are worn with light gowns in place of the white ones bo long popu lar. v This season steel and silver bid fair to take iu a great meas.iro the place of the gold and colored adornment so much in vogue of late. It is said by those who kuow that gray is the result of the black and white craze. Everything white it veiled or trimmed with black lace, and vice versa. Chiffon ties have stayed longer and taken a stronger hold thau many prophesied. As a finishing touch tc the costume, these fluffy scraps, with their elaborate ends, are invaluable. The taffeta silk coat and skirt, tailot made, i3 a very stylish costume foi general usefulness, and when wort with a white chiffon or lace vest, e sailor knot of lace, aud laco falling over tho hands, the effect is charming. White is the invariable combination, notwithstanding that gray will com bine with auy andvery color. Mousse line de soie, lace, chiffon, npplique? of silk and satin, lace braid, white cord aud narrow ribbon nre all used separately and 'together as the style requires.. Lace is still so prodigally used ou countless other materials that it is an agreeable variety to see it omitted ou sheer cotton gowns; hence we see some of the newest India muslin?, batistes and dimities with only em broidered yokes and bands and flounces of the dress fabric and no laces. The universal adoption of ths rib bon stock collar has been the meaai of bringing in many new ribbons. Velvet ribbon . will begin a reigu in the fall. In fact, everylhiug that cau be made of velvet will be. Capes, tuuics, dresses, coats, cloaks, hats, shirts everything will be velvet, and velvet meaus furs as well. The smart bandanna silk handker chief arranged in a four-in-hand neck tie stands at the head of : the list, bul a rising novelty is the automobile ol black satin, powdered with crimson sparks and drawn at the neck in o four-in-hand knot and at the burst in a sailor's knot. Then its two long esds nre f eoured, in to wearer's belt GOOD KOADS NOTES, Great Road Projected. The good roads movement in Con necticut has developed a gigantic echeme. It is to construct an avenue one hundred feet wide the entiro length of the State, from east to west. This avenue is to be laid out in fou. roadways, two for carriages, hors . and horseless, and two for bicycles. The avenue is to be built in a lin j as nearly straight as possible, and it will be put through with the idea of avoiding the cities of the State. The right of way would thus be easier to obtain. By avoiding the cities it is not meant that the avenue would not be constructed within two or, three miles of a city's limits. The route of the proposed roadway is from a point a short distance north of Greenwich to one in the northeast ern part of the State. In construct ing it grades are to eliminated as far as possible. This scheme has been approved by a large number of the members of tho State Legislature, who are greatly in terested in the good roads movement. These legislators have had engineers estimate the cost of such a road. The engineers place the cost at $10,000, 000. Their plan calls for four separ ate bridges over the Connecticut River, one for each division of the road. The driveways are to be mac adam and the wheelways of broken stone. The men who have framed this gi gantic scheme propose to present their plans to the next Legislature. Their idea is to fence in the road and make it a toll road. If the State will not take up the scheme the men who have framed the plan propose to ask for a charter and form a syndicate. It is said that a similar plan has been mapped out in Massachusetts for continuing the road to Boston and thus connecting New York and Boston by one grand highway. It has been proposed to use the old Boston post road from the New York State line into New York. The whole scheme is one of the results of horseless carriages. The men who worked out the idea believe that the horseless carriage will re quire such a road. The scheme by some is regarded as chimerical, but many good roads advocates believe that some day this great roadway will become a reality. Draining Sandy Roads. In a paper on good roads, read re cently before the Alabama Industrial and Scientific Society, .Mr. H. Hard ing says: "Any soil composed of clay, mixed with sand or gravel, can be rolled to a good surface that, with wide tires, can be maintained. Pare clay should be given a coating of sand or sandy material, for though it might give a good wheel track, the horse track would be tramped into mud in wet weather,- unless g.ven some protective coating. A sand-bed should be given a top dressing of clay and then rolled. If, in any case, the clay cannot be conveniently ap plied, the road should not be ditched. It should rather be depressed to re tain moisture, for moist sand offers a firmer bed to a wheel than dry sand." All the suggestions offered are good, but the last one is calculated to pro voke some bitter reflections and re grets in the minds of most of the country road supervisors in this part of the country. They have been care fully ditching and draining the sandy roads all these years. Road Improvement In Virginia. Prince Edward County, Virginia, has decided that wood roads are no longer advisable, and will build the first rock road in this section of the State this summer a road of seven miles, connecting Farmville, one of the largest tobacco markets in the State, with Hampden Sidney College, one of the four oldest colleges in America. It has been decided that this road shall be the pioneer in the construc tion of a system of roads that will em brace the whole county and that shall be built in the very near fulure. There will be some hundred miles of road, and the topography of the county is such that no farm will be more than two miles from a good road when the system is completed,, " Don't Use Narrow Tires. The roads of this country, generally speaking, are certainly very bad, and the chief reason is the use of narrow tires, which cannot be too strongly condemned. They cut .and grind the road as well as plow aud upheave it. Wide tires, on the contrary, are a ben efit rather thau an injury to the roads, as they act as rollers and help keep the road smooth and with a hard sur face. Some farmers claim that the wide tires increase the draft required to move the load, but if wide tires were used this objection would be over ruled, as the draft upon horses in moving a load is regulated to a very large extent by the number of ruts and mud caused by the narrow tires. Antl-Knt A;ittli:i Itetn. As loapf a narrow tires cut, The road wl 1 hold full inauy a rut. Motor-cairiage3 aud mud won't agree worth a cent. A good road is to be choseu rather than great distances. . During dry weather is the time to prepare the roads for wet weather. Fix the road when it should be fixed. Don't wait until it must be fixed. Bear in mind how the roads were last spring and fix them before an other spring comes. Newton W. has lowered the Michi gan one-mile road wagon record from 2.23J to 2.21 flat. He was hitched to 6 3QQ-poM bljf.ttfed, wagon, - HOUSEHOLD MATTERS. i i , To Clean Ostrich Feathers. -The best way io clean ostrich featb- white soap in four pints of hot water. Beat the water into a foam and dip in the feathers-, one at a time. Hub gent ly with the hands under water. Dip instantly into clean hot water and shake in the sun. Fresh Air In the Boom. To establish a current of air is tho indispensable thing in ventilation. To do this lower the window several inches from the top and raise it the same distance from the bottom. A direct fan-like movement cf air that will quickly drive out foul odors is the result. If you wish to avoid the di rect draught of air from the lower part of the window, plaoe a board six inches wide across the opening. The air will then pass up between the board and the window. It is well, in case there are infants or sick persons in the room and it is necessary to shield them from direct draught, to partly close the lower opening of the window with pillows or cushions. New York Journal. To Exterminate Roaches. If one is so unfortunate as to live in a locality where these pests are liable to develop, the greatest watchfulness and care are necessary. Do not keep garbage, particles of wet food or wet cloths about the kitchen, closets or cellar. It is particularly important that no garbage should be left in the kitchen over night, and that the sink should be left clean and dry. Should these pests be discovered use roach powder, which will not drive them away, but will exterminate them. To get rid of bed-bugs prepare the fol lowing wash: Put into a quart bottle half an ounce of corrosive sublimate, half ounce of powdered camphor, half a pint of wood alcohol and half a pint of turpentine. Apply this with a brush. The bottle should bo plainly marked and also labeled "Poison." Ladies' Home Journal, Fruits Replace Flowerg. Very pretty is the new fashion of fruit dinners, which replace purely flower dinners during the warm sea son. It is a mixture which at onoe delights the heart and opens the appe tite, for it is to be noted that nothing gives an appetite like a clean, grace ful and well laid table. Fruits, then, replace flowers as deco rations for the table, and for this pur pose are used, not fruit bought by the pound but fruit on its branches. These branches are entwined in the hanging lamps, forming a sort of cradle whence hang fresh currants, shining cherries, plums with the bloom on them, golden apricots, etc. On the table, in little flat dishes shaped like leaves, are arranged cherries, currants and other fruit in season. These cut glass dishes are made in a very prac tical form,with a second compartment in which are placed powdered sugar and a little spoon. There may be four or six of them, of fairly large size, or else little ones may be chosen, in which case there should be one to each guest. New and ingenions ideas for laying the table are being continually intro duced. Thus beside the plates are placed small crescent shaped plates for salad, and sometimes delicate little silver knives and forks, used only for this purpose as in the case of fish knives are added. The Mode Fran caise. A Few Simple Remedies. Things which one should have ready at hand in case of need are, first and foremost, essence of cinnamon. When exposed in a sick room it will kill the bacilli whioh are floating around. A decoction of cinnamon is recommend ed as a drink to be taken freely in lo calities where malaria or fevers pre vail, for cinnamon has the power to destroy all infectious microbes. Peppermint is an old friend, but if vn thin nncnnnt to Via nnnhhftd. Nothing is better for a bee sting jjhan the application of a drop of pepper mint. In case one is near the premises or apartments where there is diphtheria, the simplest yet effectual xbOdl 'of fumigating is to drop a little sulphur on a hot stove or on a few hot coals carried through the rooms. In this way the spread of the disease may be stopped. A disinfectant to use in different parts of the house, which will sweeten the whole place, may be made for ten cents or less. Take one pound of common copperas and eight ounces of crude carbolic acid and dissolve in one gallon of water. Use frequently. A little carbolic acid added to the water in which burns, bruises and outs are washed greatly lessens the sore ness. After applying iodine to the skin, if it smarts too intensely to be borne, it is well to know that it can be washed off with ammonia. Recipes. Potato and Pepper Salad Boil four potatoes until .tender; the potatoes should be peeled; cut a green pepper in half; remove the seeds and chop it., fine; pour over a quarter of a cupful of vinegar, in which is added one-half of a tcaspoonful cf sugar and two tablespoonful of water; then pour over all two tablespoonsful of oil or melted butter. Eico Blocks To one cup of rice add three cups boiling'water, one tea spoon salt, and boil till soft and water evaporated. Spread on ' shallow pan in layers of one and one-half inches thick. When cold cut in square blocks, dip in egg and cracker crumbs and fry in deep fat. Do this in the morning and just before serving put the blocks in oven a few moments, sprinkle lightly with grated lemou rind aud pile ou a pretty plate .

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