. . , 1 . 1 ' ' l mo
am corn ;;-:u.v:;vi:-
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H. A.. LONDON,
EDITOR AND PROPRIETO&
TERMS OF SUBSCRIPTION,
$1,50 PEB YEAR
Strictly in Advance.
J3 BETA'S
By HELEN V.
,. -pyrigfit, by Robert Bonner's Sons .)
CHAPTER XIX.
PLOTTTXG.
Upon arriving at the house of Nita,
Monteri and his companion questioned
her closely about the escape of her
prisoner, and after hearing from her
iwn lips all she had before written to
him, they decided to lose no time in
tracing the missing girl, lest she should
reach her f nends and learn the fraud
that had been practiced upon them by
the girl -who had proven herself so
treacherous. '
Monteri made inquiries of every one
he met concerning the girl, but no
one seemed-to have seen such aperson
as he described.
But it seems that at times fortune is
wont to favor the wicked; for, after
two days search, Carlos Monteri
learned that a girl had been found in
an unconscious condition, and was at
that time lying ill in the gipsy camp.
This he learned from a younger mem
. ber of the tribe, who, upon inquiry,
told all he knew of the rescue of the
girl and of her personal appearance.
He then found the man Jock, who
related the circumstance, and told him
that she was his wife, who had escaped,
and that she was a hopeless lunatic,
although not violent. Accordingly,
the following morning, Monteri drove
to the camp in company with Inez,
and, as we have already learned, took
the delirious girl away with him, not
withstanding the protest of the gipsy
that she was in no condition to be
moved.
And thus Breta Danton again fell
into the power of her enemies, but not
before she had unconsciously won the
heart of one who had vowed to search
for and find her, feeling within ' him
that she needed a friend and protector.
Monteri decided to take the girl
somewhere neac Ravensmere, where
he could watch over her. He did not
intend to trust Nita a second time.
As tha train bore them on their
journey to Ravensmere, Inez, whose
mind had been busy thinking, turned
to her companion, who supported the
sick girl, and said, in a low tone:
"Ah, Carlos, I have it! You know
the. old deserted house half-way be
tween the station and Ravensmere?"
"Yes, I remember I saw it," he re
plied. "It is the very place for you to take
her. No one will rent the place be
cause they say it is haunted. I heard
Cecil Doniphan sav so only a few days
ago."
"Very well. Where can I get the
key?" he asked.
"You do not need a key. You can
easily effect an entrance from the back
part of the house; besides, it would
hardly do for you to waste time in hunt
ing up the owner, for I don't believe
he is around here at present. No one
ever goes near the place, so you need
have no fear of being discovered."
"All right. This your plan. If it
brings failure, don't blame me."
"I have no fear of failure now that I
have her under my thumb," she re
plied in a voice filled vith triumph.
"Don't be too sure," he said with a
peculiar look in his beady eyes.
"What do you mean?" she asked
quickly.
"I mean, my dear, that I have not
had my revenge yet."
"Still harping on that?" she ex
claimed indignantly.
"Ah, well, let that drop for the pres
ent. As I told yoa before, as long as
you obey me, I'll let you enjoy your
ill-gotten fortune."
She turned her face toward the win
dow to conceal from him the look of
malignant hatred which she could not
prevent from shining from her eye3.
To herself she was saying:
"Threaten me as much as you please,
Carlos Monteri, but my time will come ;
and when it does, beware! We shall
see which is the shrewder, you or I.
You shall not come between me and
my aspirations. I am the acknowledged
granddaughter of old Gerald Danton,
and as such I mean to inherit his
wealth. He is old and will not live
very long, and "
Her musings were interrupted by
Monteri, who addressed her:
"She shows' signs of reviving from
the drug we gaveber before starting."
"I hope she,will not until we reach
our destination."
"I don't think she will, as wo are
almost there now," returned Carlos;
then added: "Of course, you must
leave the car alone, while I will see,
that my wife (?) is conveyed to her
fature residence."
"You must not hire any one to take
you there. That might mean ruin,"
put in Inez.
"Do you take me for a fool?"- he
sneered, as the trairr came to a pause.
CHAPTER XX.
RATHEB SUSPICIOUS.
As the train came to a pause, the de
lirious girl hadsomewhat revived from
the stupor to which ihe drug adminis
tered by Monteri had reduced her.
And when, leaving the car, Carlos took
her arm, he had little difficulty in guid
ing her steps, although she tottered
from sheer weakness. .
Inez preceded iim, and turned in an
opposite direction from the road lead
ing to the so-called haunted house,
while Carlos slowly walked the victim
of their plots toward the aforesaid road.
The old house, which he intended
to make the prison of Breta Danton,
was not more than a mile and a hall
from the station.; and, thinking it un-
VOL. XXII. P1TTSBORO, CHATHAM
JDOUBLE
IS"
GREYSO&t
; safe to hire a convevvncs of any kind,
he determined to walk. If the girl's
j strength gave out, he told himself, he
could carry her.
. But, to his surprise, she kept up ad
mirably; but no words had left her lips
through all that tiresome journey. She
walked as if in a dream, and by the
vacant stare of her eyes any one could
tell that her mind was unsettled.
They had met no one on the road,
and she submissively walked by his
side into the old ivy-covered s house
which was to be her place of abode for
some time to come.
Inez took a roundabout road to
reach Ravensmere, which led through
a dense woodland. Her mind was
busy planning what she would tell her
grandfather (?) in reference to her
speedy return from her visit to Brent
wood Park. So absorbed was she with
her thoughts that she failed . to see a
man, dressed ia a gunner's costume,
who was seated on a fallen limb not
twenty feet from her as she passed.
"Strange!" he muttered, when she
had passed out of sight and hearing.
"What is she doing back so soon, and
why did she select this roundabout
way to get home? Til see what she
has to say for herself when I return.
She did not see me. I am positive of
that. And now, my pretty cousin, I'll
see whether those red lips stray from
the truth. I haven't much faith
in you, with your purring, sneaky
waysand if I had my way you would
not be at Ravensmere."
Gathering up his game-bag and
shouldering his gun, hp set out for
home.
It was toward dusk when he lightly
ran up the veranda steps, and fell
back in well-feigned surprise when he !
saw his cousin seated beside his uncle.
, "Why, cousin mine, what brought
you home so soon?
"Oh, I got homesick! I have got
ten so attached to Ravensmere and
dear grandpapa that I longed to re
turn; so I took the train and left ray
friends, 'promising to make them a
longer visit at some future time."
"And did you walk all the way from
the station.
"Yes; and I found the road very
dusty, too."
"Did you follow the straight road
from the station to Ravensmere?" he
asked nonchalantly.
"Certainly. You may be sure I
came by the shortest possible route, "
she returned sarcastically.
-"You're right My common sense
should have told ma that," he said,
with a laugh that was half a chuckle,
while a peculiar gleam shot from his
eyes.
"Did you have a good day's sport,
Cecil?" asked his uncle. - -
"Yes, very jood, indeed. I'm glad
that I took your advice and went gun
ning, for T was verily getting the
blues," replied he. ,'
As he passed up to his room to
change his clothes, a malicious chuckle,
left his lips.
"Aha! My pretty cousin, I was not
far wrong when I thought you had an
object in walking two miles out of your
path! If you had not, you would not
have said that you came by the direct
road. Now what was your object? I
intend to watch you, my dear. " That
hurried journey wa3 not - taken for
nothing, and as for your visiting
Brentwood Park, I don't believe1 it.
However, that is an easy matter to find
out. If I can find out .anything about
you that will turn my uncle against
you, be sure I'll not spare the time
nor energy that may be required to
reach that end. Ravensmere is a fine
estate, and I do not intend that it
shall slip through my fingers without
an effort on my part. I've felt-that
the girl is not all that she pretends to
be, and if I succeed in turning my
uncle against her, I'll not have labored
in vain. I must keep my eyes open,
and if any more such trips are taken,
I'll know your destination, or - my
name's not Cecil Doniphan. In the
meantime, I'll make it my special
business to make inquiry relative to
your last one. I dare say she has been
off somewhere with that fellow she
calls George Bertram. However, I
mean to find out. If I am any judges
and I flatter myself that I am, that
fellow is a blackleg. Ha, Cecil; my
boy, perhaps your cake's not all dough,
after all, and those that live the longest
will see the most. There goes " the
dinner-bell! . Well, I feel more like
eating to-night than I ' have since
Gerald Danton told me that hi3 grand
daughter was to inherit the larger
part of his wealth. Ah! Hops is a
great appetizer." '
CHAPTER XXI.
riiAYIXG DETECTIVE.
"I tell you, Inez, I must have money.
Something has got to be done, and if
you still wish to retain your position
at Ravensmere, you must, furnish me
with whatever sum I demand."
"Carlos, how am I to obtain it? I
have takenhatever I. could get with
out being found out, and all the spend-ing-money
GeraldDanton gave me you
now have. What am I to do?" -
He leaned forward and whispered
into her ear. - v
"You are out of your senses!" she
exclaimed.
"Oh, no, not at all! I know it
would be an easy task to one so ex
perienced as yourself," he replied in
an even tone.
"How could yon suggest, such a
thing, Carlos Monteri, I Tenly btf
Q
lievethat you would stoop to any
thing." - , .;-
"Hot I," he returned, with a sullen
laugh. "But you, my dear Inez, eould
easily' d& as I told you." ' , ,
"I won't! So' that's an end of it."
"Very well, you know the conse
quences if you don't comply with ... my
wishes. This is not the fir-st time that
I have told you this. Follow your own
inclinations, and be exposed.- Do as I
tell you and live ia wealth and af
fluence. I give you two days to con
sider the matter. Meet me to-morrow
night at the end of the ladies' walk,
and I'll tell you more f ally my plans.
Here comes that fellow Doniphan. It
seems that he's alwaya prowling around
the grounds when we're out here." -
"He has got no good blood for me,
because I've cheated him' out of his
place as heir to his uncle," said Inez,
in a low tone.
"Remember, to-morrow night at
nine!"
"Very well. And phase look well
to yoiir prisoner, that she does not
make her escape a second time. By
the way, has she fully regained her
senses?"
- "Not quite. At time3 she wanders
a little. Ta. ta!"
As he moved away a murderous
gleam shot from his eyes, while she
watched him out of sight.
"Yes, Carlos Monteri, I'll meet you
to-morrow night, and I'll try my hand
again. I'll admit that your plan was
a good one, and I may see fit to carry
it out, but not until you are first out
of my path. Why will he not put
that girl out of my path forever? If I
could only get access to that house, I
would take matters in my own hands.
First let me remove Carlo3 Monteri
off the face of the earth, then my way
will be clear.
"Does he think that I'll allow him
to order me around at his will? I am
getting desperate."
- .
As Carlos Monteri turned down the
road, he wras not aware that he was
being followed; but such was the case.
' Cecil Doniphan, having had his sus
picions aroused in reference to the in
timacy between his uncle's grand-
daughter aud the man she called
George Bertram, determined to keep
a close watch upon them. He intend
ed to find out what sort of a person
the fellow was. So when he saw
them talking so confidentially, he de
cided to follow -him and see where ha
went. ,
"Where is the fellow leading me,
anyway? By Jove, if he isn't making
straight for that old deserted house!
Now, what under the sun i3 taking him
to that forsaken place? Aha, Cecil, my
boy, you are stumbling into a mystery,
if I'm not mistaken. Ah! He has
gone in and fastened the door behind
him, judging from that peculiar sound,
as if a bolt was being slipped into
place. Ah, well, Mr. George Bertram,
I'll call at some more convenient time,
when you are not around, and find
out what brings you to this old, dilap
itated ruin; for certainly you have not
taken up your abode in such a place."
Waiting for about ten niinute3 to
see whether or not he intended to leave
the place, and deciding that he did cot
contemplate doing so for some time,
Doniphan again turned his face toward
Ravensmere. -
He was daily expecting a letter in
reply to one he had written to Erio
Brentwood, and on his way back he
stopped at the store, which served the
purpose of postoffice as well, and in
quired for mail; and a gratified look
crossed his face when the grocer passed
him an envelope with his name on it.
Hastily tearing it open, he drew the
sheet of note-paper from the envelope
and read the following:
'Mb. Doxiphax:
"Deae Sib Breta Danton has not co:no
to me since she left the park ia your com
pany. I write this, iusteai of my son, bo
cause, at present, he is away from home.
As he gave me leave to attend to his mail,
I took the liberty to road your letter; and,
in reply, must say that yon are wrong in
thinking that she had called on me. Why
you should ask this, I eannot imagine, and
hope that it is nothing more than somo
argument, in reference to the matter, that
prompted your inquiry. I remain,
"Eespeetfully, Ciaes Ebestwood."
"I was positive that I would re
ceive an answer like this!" he ex
claimed. "She told a falsehood in ref
erence to that visit. Now it remains
for meto find out what she is up to,
and I'll hot rest until I succeed. This
is a new departure for me the play
ing of a, detective's part but I feel
that I am equal to it."
' Placing the letter in his pocket, ha
continued on his way to Ravensmere,
feeling veil satisfied with the success
of his plan thus far, and determined
to return to the haunted house at the
earliest opportunity.
To be continued.
Don Milked tho Coir.
William Jackson is a wealthy fann
er living between Lawrencoville, N.
J., and Princessville. He has a boy
on the place of the name of Frank
Bonnett and the boy has a pug pup
called Jim. Frank Bennett's princi
pal duty is to milk the cows. The
pug pup had often sat upon the gras3
and watched him.
The boy thought it would be great
fun a few days ago to give the pug a
feed of milk direct from the cow, and
taking carefukaim, directed the stream
into the dog's mouth. The pug seemed
to like iji. One day it was , noticed
that the cow failed to give her usual
quantity of milk, and that the pug re
fused to eat the most tempting inorsela
6f food, yet he was growing fat.
Farmer Jackson discovered that the
pug and the cow were on the very best
of terms. He watched and was almost
paralyzed to catch the obese pug suck
ing the milk from the old cow and tha
cot treating the dog as affectionately
as her own calf.
Thejpug is now chained up like a
barracks tramp, and the cow is giving
hoi. nancl nnnntitv of milk. Th 3
j 13 losing flestf. New York Sun.
COUNTY, N. C, THURSDAY. DISOBMBKEM, 18-J9. . ; NO. 14.
ROME'S MILITARY ROADS.
BUILT TO FACILITATE- THE MOVE
MENTS OF LARGE ARMIES.
Why They Are In Good Condition After
Two Thousand Years ot Use SljjiiiH
... cance of the European Boad Sjrstem
,JClxe Difference in Asia Minor.
A military power such as Rome was
could not long be content with the
bridle-paths which all primitive peo
ples find sufficient to subserve their
commercial interests. ' For, in order
to facilitate the shifting and: concen
tration of their armies at strategic
points, they needed a better and more
comfortable means of rapid transit
than was furnished by the primitive
bridle path. The primary -object
which the Roman international roads
were intended to subserve was military
in character... r" .;
The width of the Roman road varied
much according to its importance.
Often it was one hundred and twenty
feet wide, though, in the provinces it
was generally sixty; sometimes forty
feet wide.' In order to understand
the reason for this great width and
for the substantial construction that
was rigidly adhered ta, wo should
bear in mind the-make-up of the Ro
man army, whose comfort and neces
sities were continually consulted. In
the first place, the Roman soldier was
burdened by his heavy armor aud
Ljother impedimenta in such a manner
as to render him wholly unfit, to repel
sudden attack successfully, as we read
on nearly every page of Caesar's Com
mentaries. The baggage-train was
far larger" aud more unwieldy than
anything we know of to-day; for the
reason that this train had to transport
not merely the tents, artillery, arms,
munitions of war, army; chest and a
host of other things necessary in the
warfare of that day; not merely the
effects and plunder of the legionaries,
but also those of two secondary armies
au army of women, wives of the
legionaries, and another arm; of body
servants, for each legionary had oue
or more servants. When on the
march, this unwieldy army maintained
the line-of-battle order, theoretically
at least, in order krbe ready to repel
sudden and unexpected attack. Good
roads, therefore, were . necessary in
order to enable the immense train
with which the army was handicapped
to keep pace with the legionaries, aud
wide roads were essential, in order,
in case of sudden attack, to allow the
individual legionaries to make effec
tive use of their arms without inter
fering with their neighbors.
The Roman roads were built with
more care than is expended upon the
beds of our railways even. They were
made as straight as possible, and nat
ural obstacles were skilfully over
come by the nso of cuts, fills, bridges,
culverts, embankments, and even tun
nels. Stiff grades were avoided, and
a level, once reached, was doggedly
maintained, even at the' expenso of
making cuts, tills, etc. The work pre
liminary to the building of any Roman
road consisted in excavating all the
dirt down to hardpan, and the excava
tion thus made was filled in, regard
less of expense, with layers of sand,
stone and cement, until the requisite
level, however high it might be, had
beeu reached. Finally, the surface
was dressed with a layer of metal and
cement. The road was practically in
destructible, nnd required only occa
sional repairs. -That cwtinuous or
even merely yearly repairs were not
necessary seems ' clear from the fact
that, when repairs were made, the
proprajtor of the province thought it
so important au event thai he cele
brated it by inscribing the fact along
with his name On" the milestones.
Many years ago Bergier made an
examination of certain Roman roads
still in use in Franco: ; One road was
examined at a, point where it had
been raised twenty feet above the
level of the surrounding country, and
a vertical section revealed a struc
ture of five layers. ; First came the
great fill of sixteen feet and one-half;
ou the top of this fill came, first, a
foot layer of flattish sloaes mixed
with cement, then ;a foot layer-of
flattish stones without cement, then a
foot layer of firmly packed dirt, then
a half-foot layer of small metal in
hard cement, and lastly, a half -foot
layer of large metal and cement.
Other roads investigated by Bergier,
while differing -in treatment, were
just as substantial roads. Paved roads
were rare, out tne via Appia oners a
remarkable instance of a paved road
The stone used in its pavement is of
the kind of which - millstones are
made, and they are so carefully
dressed and adjusted that the road
often seems to bo solid rock, and has
proved so indestructible that, after
two thousaud years of continuous
use, it is still a superb read. In the
countless inscriptions which .slate
that such and such a governor under
such and such an emperor repaired
the roads and bridges in his province,
reference is made, to the top-dressing
of metal and cement. - The military
road of the provinces was usually
sixty feet wide, and was divided into
three tracks: a raised centre and two
sidetracks, each track ; being twjmty
feet wide. ., . -
If the old Roman roads in Italy,
France and elsewhere are still'exist
ent and in use, there is au epecial rea
son therefor, quite apart from the ftct
that these roads were . originally built
for eternity. In the days of Rome's
ascendency all roads led to Rome, and
in Europe this has never ceased to be
more or less a fact. No city of Europe
ever attained such transcendent im
portance as to make nec-essary a com
plete change iu the geheral direction
of the road system; so that, in spite of
the decline of Rome and the rise of
other centres, the roads of Europe still
lead to Rome. ' T
In Asia Minor the case was - differ-
I the great emporium cf AsisMifcor was
Pteria, the capital cliy of the -great
Asiatic peninsula; The prehistoric,
system of roads led to Pteria; one great
artery was theryoad from Pteria (or
later on, Tavium) to Ephesus on the
seaboard; a second was the'foad from
Pteria-Tavium through .the5 Ciliciau
Grates to the southern seaboard,
etc. Later on, when the Persians
gained control over Asia Minor,
Pteria had ceased to exist, but -its
neighboring Tavium rose in impor
tance and became the emporium of all
Central A.sia Minor. Roads led to
Tavium. The first artificial trade
roads (leaving out of consideration tb
mythical roads of Semiramis) wert!J
therefore, built by the predecessor!
of the Persi ans in Asia Minor. Tho
first road mentioned in written his
tory was the Royal Road which led
from Ephesus to Sasa. Now the Royal
Road was nothing in the world bat the
old Hittite road (or roads) along whose
immense zigzag the Persians were
content to jog. for centuries, never
dreaming, apparently, ' of a short eut.
If the Persians had buiit the road
themselves, they would never have
been guilty of the incomprehensible
folly of making the great detour from
the Ciliciau, Gates via Tavium to
Ephesus' instead of following the direck
and natural trade route from the Cil
ician Gates via Iconium, Autiochia,
Celremb aud the Lycus Valley to
Ephesu3. The Greek kings and their
successors, the Romans, adopted this
natural shortcut, and the Royal Road
lapsed into desuetude. . Then all roads
led to Ephesus, because Ephesus was
the gate way to Rome. Later on, Con
stantinople arose and disputed the
queenship with Rome, Her rise de
manded a thoroughgoing change ia
the general direction of all roads iu
Asia Minor. Roads no longer led to
Rome that is, to Ephesus but to
Constantinople. Tho Roman road
system in Asia became useless for pur
poses of trade, and was degraded first
to neighborhood roads; .and as for fif
teen hundred years the roads have
continued to lead to Constantinople,
the good old Roman roads were finally
abandoned, lost, and forgotten. Oc
casionally the traveler cau locate a
section of a Roman road, though their
course must generally be argned from
the mile-stones. One such at Kiakhta
in distant Kommagene is now a silent
but eloquent reminder of Rome's solici
tude for even her most distant prov
inces; every stone of the magnificent
old bridge on this road tells a pathetio
story of the passing of human grandeur.
Ncw York Post. -
l-oiiR Journey of n Due'--'. '
"I am au old reader of the Specta
tort and should like to, be allowed to
add one of the many interesting stories
you, have collected about the traits of
animals," says a writer in the London
Spsctator. "Mine relates tc a para
dise duck which had become domesti
cated, and lived at a eheep ; station
twenty-one miles from Timaru, in the
provincial district of Canterbury. ""It
belonged to the housekeeper, who had
clipped its wings, and it spent its life
between the homestead and a small
pond close by.
"In course of time its mistress left
for the neighborhood of Christ Church,
and she carried the duck with her in
a basket. Her journey was by train
twenty-one miles to Timaru, then by
changing to another train for- ninety
five miles, and finally by coach for
about ten miles. By and by the duck
disappeared from -its new heme, and
was looked upon as lost. Then its
mistress , returned to' her previous
domicie some time after how long I
nave not discovered ana to her in
tense surprise, fouud the dqck bad
revisited its old haunts and was set
tled on the pond as beforo. It could
not fly, and no one was known to have
carried it, so that the only regaining
hypothesis is that it walked . for 120
miles, threading its way by many
crossroads, over bridges, and across
streams, through a country which pre
sents a great variety of contour ia
hill, valley and river."
A Helpful Little Girl."
"Ah, Jack! you cannot tell what
troubles a girl has who is receiving
the attention of a gentleman."
She' was twisting a button on his
coat, and looking very demure and
shy. -
"Troubles, Marie? Of what nature,
pray?" he asked, iu a tone of sur
prise. "Well, one's little brothers "are
always inaKing tun oi one, ana one s
relatives are always saying, 'When is
it to come off?' as if marriage was a
prize fight. But that i3 not the worst.
There is the inquisitivenees of one's
parents. They want to know every
thing, xnere 8 pa, now; he is con
stantly asking such questions as,
'Marie, what are Mr. Robinson's in
tentions? Why does he cail npoa yen
so regularly, and stay so lata when he
does call?' And he sometimes looks so
mad when he asks these Questions
that I actually tremble." ,
"And what answer do you make ta
his questions, Marie, my dear?"
"I can't make any answer at all,
for, you see, you haven't said any
thing to me, and and of course,
I I- " . ?
Then Mr.' Robinson whispered
something ia - Marie's car, and the
next time her father questions her she
will .be ready with a satisfactory
reply. Woman's Home Companion,
Sign of an Early TVinier.
It is beyond the skill of .the weathe;
bureau to tell" just what it is that
makes one winter set in earlier than
another. The night hawks and the
swallows would seem to teach that
there is a steadily accumulating mass
of conditions, tho presence of tho first
of which makes itself known to tho
birds before it dees to humans, and
that this fir3i manifestation of. tb?
gathering of things which, combined,
will make an early winter, affects tbe
insect supply. And then the hires go
fkrrving southward. .
UTILIZING; BY-PRODUCT&
TURNING , WASTE MATERIAL INTO
: MARKETABLE - ARTICLES.
6oino tVays by Which Manufacturer Ar
Enabled to Add to Their Wealth Ac
cidental Discovery of a Form of Min
eral Wool System of ,'firl$ttetttn&;'
. Jf - - '
The question of disposal of. waste
material is an important -one for every
manufacturer : and industrial -community.
Preservation of ' water sup
ply, availability of land for plant and
storage, to say nothing of J the . pollu
tion of the air and general health of
employes, largely . depend upon the
solution of this problem, and it also
means much iu dollars ' and cents
through the saving that incidentally
may be accomplished. ' - -
Coal and iron men were the first to
find the accumulation of debris a seri
ous matter. : Slack and slate could be
put to no use. Furnacei wcro con
trived that burned slack, but even
then the difficulty was not .obviated,
for slate and dust remained. When
eoke was made, a vast amount of
braize (fine , particles) ' accumulated.
Riches went up in smoke until the
by-product ovens came into use and
ammonia, eras, tar and carbon were
taken out, little being left. Gas manu
facturers found a ruinous waste till
they began manufacturing tarred room
ing paper, and even now they arenpt
satisfied with the economy , secured.
Icon mill owners from early days
have hot known until recently whafr
to do" with-fine dust , and slag, and
werkers of wood in saw and plauing
mills have had quantities of dast and
shavings for which there was nothing
but tho furnace or torch, with danger
of conflagration.
" Pittsburg has been a -centre of
activity aloug these manufacturing
lines, and there the solution of saving
devices has' first been worked out.
Slag formerly was dumped out in
great hot masses to be broken up
later witb the sledge and taken by
rail to be used for filling. One day
ia Steubenville, Ohio, a workman,
playing cold water through a hose
uppn redhbt slag, accidentally turned
the. stream against molten metal. An
explosion, .resulted, and when he
looked for the slag it was not there.
Instead: he sav a snowy mas3 that
looked and felt like asbestos.- That
was the beginning of the discovery of
one form -f mineral wool. .. Several
iron' and steel companies have im
proved upon the method, but the
principle remains the same.- The
wool is better than hair or tanbark as
a non-conductor for protecting and
filling walls and floors of dwellings.
Recently it has been used there in the
manufacture of safes. Packed tightly
between the steel walls, it; is" im
pervious to the burglar's tools. It
will break any drill known.
Railroad men find that fnrnace slag,
well broken, is excellent ballast. It
is also ground there and made into
tiles, fire bricks and Portland cement.
The kindT of product depends on de
mand and local needs. -v"
The system of "briquetting" has
provided new means of economy to
both mill : and mine. "Briqiretting"
has been iuown in Germany, France
and Wales for several years, r It was
brought to the attention of Americans
through consular reports. It consists
in compressing in moulds, by simple
aud powerful machinery, any pulver
ized substance and'holdiug it by some
amalgam. or "binder," such as resin,
bitumen or oil. Through this system
and others similar, dust and waste
fragments may be used. Among the
substances handled at a profit are
precious .inetal ores, tunnel dust, con
centrates, coal, peat, lignite, coke
braize, iron ore, flue dust, manganese
ore, iron sand, cement, sawdnst, cork
dust, etc. The material is fed into
machines and comes out in cylindrical
chunks about three inches in diameter
and four inches long.
The "briquetting" machine men
complain that times are too good for
them. Manufacturing establishments
In Pittsburg, Providence, Chicago and
Philadelphia are too busy' for them to
turn Out the orders under eight weeks,
and when prices are good and profits
are easily made, iron, coal and coke
men are not particular about saving
the ' little things. Time of reduced
prices and narrow margins drive them
back to the system of caring for scraps.
Mesaba ore, which crumbles easily,
leaves a great deal of dust. Briquetted,
it ean be saved for $3.50 a ton. In the
river valleys-of Western Pennsylvania"
are three million or four million tons
of coal .dust, more valuable than slack
or lump coal when solidified, as it is
clean, npt friable in moisture and pos
sesses higher heat units. : Furnace
flue dust is often sixty per cent, pure,
and the value of a method of saving
it i s obvious. Briquetted coal is spec
ially adapted to naval uses. : Sawdust,
compressed, becomes excellchfcjuel.
Slate, . since- the beginning ; oP- coal
mining, has been a source of : trouble
and expense. A Monongahela River
Tprker announces that it can be made
iatd fireproof brick and moulds for
Casting ingots and other manufactures
of iron and steel. Drain "tile ated
sewer pipe of superior quality also
come fiom this despised stuff. "Over
each bed of bituminous coal lies a
layer of slate, v This the iuouldmaker
grinds as it comes from the slope or
shaft, and, mixing it with something
of thetfsature.of cement, fires it to the
propsdegree of hardiness.
'There is no known limit to the "use
of .materials heretofore considered as
refuse.- Manufacturers have only be
gunto see the opportunities within
ebclr grasp. . ' ,
The first Australian newspaper, tbe
Sidney Gazette, was published March
51803, fifteen years after tho rise of
the coldny. The delay was caused
through there being no printers among
the, convicts, who represented every
jproXe'sion, including th9legal, : x'
a BATES
"; oj - ,
AD V E 17 T 1 0 in G
One square, one insertion $1.01
Oneuare, two insertions $ 1.10
One square, one month - -
For advertisements liberal con.
traota will be made.
THE REAL REASON,
Whitby , Explain Why, He i Soch
? . Picturesque 8 loach .
"I can tell you one thinsr, Wbitbr.I
said Whitby's friend on the train tb
other morning,' "you are about tha
most picturesque slouch that com
mutes on this road. Now I would be
so uneasy if I had the top button off
my overcoat as you have that it would
be impossible for me'o contain my
self, and yet you simply fasten the
coat together with a 6afeEy-pin, and
seem perfectly contented, f
"I try-,, to be contented under all ,
circumstances and never to find fault," .
replied Whitby, with a good-natured
smile. '
"It is a fino way to be constructed,'
replied Whitby's friend, "but that is,
not an excuse for slouchiness. 'Be
cause a man is happy; it is no reason
that he should go around with a saw .'
edge on his vest-binding sticking out'
like the whiskers on a cat."
"Your remarks are' not without a
certain force," ropliedjWhitby, with a
broader smile than fvev, "and they
put me in fine humor, and I am going
to tell you of a few other irregularities
that. may please you more to hear of
than to discover. Do you know that
at the present timet my suspenders
are so badly out of kilter that I am
wearing as a substitute a razor-strop
that was formerly a suspender?"'
"I would never suspect it from;
your gait."
"Nevertheless, it is quite true,"
replied Whitby; 'and I have such big
sagging-holes in myshirt that I often
wonder why it is that I don't thrust
my head throu gh them when I dress
in the a- m.
"And still you are happy.'
"Perfectly," said Whitby, who con
tinued: 't
"I have also' a button off my coat
tails, and perhaps it .makes me look
lop-sided, but it doesn't make any
difference to me bo long as I know
that I am net lop-sided. II those
buttons coming off bothered me aa
much as one would naturally suppose,
I would get around the difficulty by
wearing a sack-coat."' V.
Here - Whitby's friend began to
roar. - .
"What's the matter now?" asked
Whitby.
"Why, your thumb and forefinger
are sticking through your glove." -"Of
course they are; and that is
what enables me to fish the change
out oi my vest pocket when I am on
the fly, instead of groping round and
fumbling for it for five minutes. And
my vest pocket has such a rip in it
that I have . pulled the hole up to a
point and tied a piece of cord around
it." -
"And then," said Whitby's friend,
"the bottoms of your trousers are
fearfully frayed. " .
"If that annoyed me," remarked
Whitby, "I should certainly turn
them up, like a true Londoner. But,
you see, I want harmony, and that is
why I like my trousers bottoms
frayed like my coat-binding. I may
be very slouchy, but I am all right on
form. I never wear a high hat with a
sack-coat or a colored shirt in fell
dress."
"I know you don't; but if you did,
you would not have a wider reputation
than, yon have .now. ; Some people
think it is a wild affectation on your
part that you are copying the ways
of the wild poet, whose greatness is so
great that he can't realize on his light
and airy creations. I heard a stranger
the other day speak of you as looking
liko au inventor, and probably being
a man starving while trying to roise -capital
to put upon the market a gos
stovo that can be operated without
gas. And then you re not unlike a
musical composer in-appearance. Per
haps you are going around in this
way to make people believe you are a
millionaire."
!No, that is not the reason I am
goiug. around in this free-and-easy,
unmended fashion," '-t said Whitby.
"It is not to make people believe that
I am artistic, or wealthy, or In
different to and above the ordinary
conventionalities of life."
"Then there is a reason?"
"If you must know, yes," replied
Whitby, laughing good-naturedly,
"and I know you are: aching to know
it."
: "lam." . .
"And you won't tell any one if I
inform you."
; "Not to a living soul," replied
Whitby's friend; "it shall be invio
late." "It is because my wife hasn't the
time to sew on my buttons and do my
mending." '
"Why not?" asked Whitby's friend,
in astonishment.
"Because all her time is completely
taken up sewing for charity." B. K.
Maukittrick, in Harper's Bazar.
Hiring Servants in' Fern.
" Servants usually go in droves in
Peru, and when you hire a butler or
major-domo, or master, of the house
hold, he becomes a fort of general
manager of the entire establishment.
He hires aud dismisses, the cook, the
chambermaids and other servants,
and is responsible for their good be
havior. Mfttiv families board with
their major-domo aud arrange witb
him to maintain the housenoia, pro
vide the food, fuel and the servants
and everything else except the fixed
charges' for rent, water rates, gas bills
and similar outside luxuries at a given
raie per month, Thiss not only a
measure of convenience but of
economy, and people are thus' pro
tected against dishonesty and ex
travagance in their kitchens ana
pantries. A cook usually feels at
liberty to bring her household aaa ail
hpr fhildrpn to the house where she is
employed, arid lodges au.d feeds them
at the expense or her employer. j.ne
husband may workelsewbere. but he
sleeps and takes his meals wherever
his wife lives. Correspondence in
Chicago Record, ..
V