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THE NATIONAL BANK OF AUGUSTA
L. C. HAYNE, PrcB't. P. G. FOED, Cashier.
Undivided l*r?n:a } SI 10,000
Facilities of our magnificent Kew Vault
containing 410 >afoty.Loct Boxes. Differ
ent Sizes ar*) < Cored to our patrons and
the public at $3.00 to $10.00 per annum.
THOS. J ADAMS PROPRIETOR.
EDGE FIELD, S. G.; WEDNESDAY. NOVEMBER 6. 1901.
L. C. Hoyne,
Chas, C. Howard,
VOL. LXVI. NO. 45
Wedding Invitations, Engraved "V
Plate and 100 Cards SI.05. Watch
mond Setting aud Engraving don
1 WM. SCHWEIGER!
g 702 Broad St.,
New York City.-Nothing serves the
purpose of an all-round useful wrap
more perfectly than the golf cape. It
ls worn for traveling, driving, walk
lng, bad weather, almost every occa
sion except the game from which it
takes its name. On thc way to and
from the links it may, and often docs,
lave ?J! sucV^-^^But fw^ctaai
play lt is impossible and never seen.
The smart May Mr-nton example
shown is cut after the latest English
model, and is absolutely up-to-date in
pvery detail. The priginal is made pf
tan cplored cloth wita plaid under
side, but plain cloths and cheviots are
quite ps often seen, while light colored
broadcloth makes an admirable even
The cape Ie circular and fitted by
means of shoulder darts. The hood is
graceful and carefully shaped, open
ing slightly at the centre back to give
a pointed effect. The storm collar ls
cut In sections and fits snugly at the
tfcrii3i-wJdl^i?-fiarla ^ ?L??**
Tipward toward the head. Shoulder
straps are arranged on the inner side
which support the weight and obviate
To cut this cape for a woman of me
dium size two and three-eighth yards
pf material fifty-six inches wide will
Toko Blouse Closing at Bade.
Fancy blouses that close at thc back
are and will be much worn both aa
part of entire costumes for indoor
wear and* the odd bodices that find
such an Important place in every com
plete wardrobe. The dainty and at
tractive May Manton design illustrated
in the large drawing includes sever il
novel features and ls adapted to many
materials. The original is made of
Nile green louisine silk, the yoke and
sleeves being enriched by applied dises
of paune in a deeper shade and edged
with a narrow fancy braid, while rhc
undcrsleeves are of cream chiffon, but
all soft silk and wool fabrics are ap
propriate. The applied dises dre en
tirely new this season, but do not ip
yolve any excessive labor while their
effect ls smart in the extreme.
The lining fits smoothly and snugly,
but closes with the outside at the cen
tre back, The yoke is applied over the
foundation, on indicated lines and is
met by the smooth backs and full
fronts, The sleeves are cut after the
latest model and Include full soft un
der puffs, with slightly bell-shaped over
portions, the edges of which are curved
to match tile yoke, The stock collar
to plaie and ls attached to the neck,
Patches, Jewelry, Sterling Silver
3 Fine Cut Glass, Clocks, Vases,
? by experts.
TAKEN IN EXCHANGE FOR
S. SEND FOR CATALOGUE.
i & CO., Jewelers.
closing with the blouse at the centre
To cut this blouse for a -woman of
medium size three and a half yards of
material twenty-one inches wide, three
ana a quarter yards twenty-seven
inches wide, two and three-quarter
yards thirty-two inches widt or one
and three-quarter yards forty-four
inches wide will be required, with
five-eighth yards twenty inches wide
A Prctt;'- New Material.
White net dotted all over with tiny
jet spots and with a border of black
lace applied on the white ground and
heavily encrusted with jet ls among
the most exquisite of the new robe
Silver Tissue Much Used.
Silver tissue is being much used as
a background for the fine laces and
embroideries of the season.
Woman's Tailored Shirt Waist.
Simple severe tailored waists are
much worn and suit many materials
far better than any other sort. The
May Manton model shown is made of
Saxony flannel, woven in Roman strips
of pastel tones, one of the newest and
most fashionable waisting materials,
?neris ?rnliier.Tly sajare, out is equally
desirable for embroidered stripes, the
heavier flannels, corduroy, velveteen
and all the materials which call for
simplicity. The original is made over
a fitting lining that renders it*peculiar
ly' cnn? and becoming, but the waist
can be made unlined whenever pre
The foundation is fitted with single
darts, shoulder and under-arm seams
and closes at thc centre front, out sep
arately from the outside. Thc back of
thc -waist is plain and smooth across
the shoulders, but drawn under In
gathers at the waist line. The fronts
are laid in five narrow tucks each)
tirac-cxteuff- nom rne"'Shoulders" and"
neck to yoke depth, and provide be
coming fulness below. The sleeves
are in regulation shirt style with nar
row square-cornered cuffs. The neck
is finished with a stock of plain silk
edged with turn-over portions, and
closes invisibly at the centre back.
To cut this waist for a woman of
medium size three and a half yards of
material twenty inches wide, threo
TAILORED SHIRT WAIST.
and three-eighth yards twenty-seven
inches wide, three yards thirty-two
inches wide, two yards forty-four
inches wide will be required
? HOW BARLO?
"It's not only the money he has tal
en," Mr. Ritchie was saying, "hut it
the thought that I trusted him an
that he has cheated me. I liked hin
I liked him the first time I saw hin
j and I've trusted everything to him ai
i most from the first week he came-au
! that is over a year ago. Now, it i!?ad
dens me-the thought that he was
thief, after all. Only catch him an
half the ?1000 he has taken ?hall b
yours. Put him in the dock. I don'
care what it costs me. Let me S3
him punished. Let me see him caught
Gor for him for all you're worth, Ml
Marlow, and the very day he i
charged I'll give you a check io
The detective's thin face flushed
He was young and unknown, and s<
far had never had a chance. Now i
had come; and he might not onlj
make his reputation but ?.r>00 as well
and that last would give him all tha
was best in the world to him-the gir
he loved for wife; and without it i'
might be years before he could aflore
He turned eagerly and gathered ul
his papers and noteboook
"I'll lose no time," he said. "I'll dc
my best." But all the same it seemed
an almost hopeless task. Fred Ember
son, the thief, had had a good 12 hours'
start He had gone at 4 o'clock the
day before to the bank to pay money
in and to cash a check as usual ready
for paying the men's wages on the
morrow, and he had never returned.
The check had been cashed, the money
never paid in, and Fred Emberson had
Mr. Ritchie was a hard and bitter
man. He had been soured five years
before by the disappearance of his
only daughter. She had met, at the
house of some friends she had been
visiting, a man with whom she had
fallen in love. He had been ineli
gible In every way-a poor man with
no prospects, with apparently nothing
to recommend him-but that made no
difference to her.
Mr. Ritchie had stormed and raged,
had refused emphatically to se? him,
and had forbidden her ever to mention
him again. She had refused. She
had tried fer some months to induce
the two men to meet, she had persist
ed in sticking to the man she loved,
and then she had run away and mar
Mr. Ritchie never forgave her
never would. He had returned all her
letters unopened. He washed his
hands of her and settled down, bitter
and soured, to live out the remainder
of his life in hard work.
Now to find that he had been de
ceived agam ?eeimra tu malta Maunaut
bitter than ever. At first he could
not believe that his trusted clerk had
really done anything wrong-he would
turn up and explain, he thought, and
he waited until the morning before he
sent for a detective. Now the last
doubt seemed removed. Fred Ember
son had not been seen at his lodgings
since the morning before, and from his
desk at his office had gone every paper
except those bearing directly on tho
business of the Arm.
Mr. Ritchie looked up at the detec
"He's arranged it all, of course," he
said, angrily. "He meant to go. He
always goes to the bank on Fridays
to draw the money ready to pay the
men on Saturday morning, and he
thought he'd seize the opportunity, of
course. You see, he's left nothing be
hind in his desk-not a scrap of paper
to betray him. Not a thii j! Every
thing was arranged."
The detective nodded.
"I must see what there is at his
lodgings." he said. "A criminal al
ways gives himself away somewhere,
He can't help it. If it wasn't for that
the world would be a dangerous place
for honest men. But they always leave
something undone, and very often it
is the cleverest thieves who are the
easiest to catch in the end. They're,
too clever sometimes."
Mr. Ritchie nooded, Detective Mar^
low pocketed his papers and went out
from the office into the noisy streets
of the busy Midland town.
He sent his men to ihe station to
make inquiries, and then made his
way towarus the roams in which Fred
Emerson had lodged during the year
he had been with Mr. Ritchie. He
went up to them, questioning the land
lady as he went, and getting no infor
mation, except that she had not seen
Emerson since he had left for his office
the morning before.
Upstairs Marlow found everything
in order. The rooms were just as Em
berson had left thom. He might be
comi.ne baals in half an hour. Thc
chest of drawers was full of clothes
and littered with knick-knacks-pipes
and pouches and tobacco. There were
boots arranged underneath, carefully
polished; brushes and combs lay on
the dressing table, and a writing desk
stood close at hand. But in it Betec-'
tive Marlow could find not a single
scrap of paper, not a letter or an en^
velop or a bill. Emberson had arranged
everything. There was nothing to be=
tray him-pot even an ink mark on
the blotting paper.
Marlow looked round in some dismay
when he had finished. He couldn't
find a single clew, not a thread to
start a search, not a thing to go upon,
and he made a close search, too, for
the thought of the ?500 reward made
him strain every nerve.
He was almost giving up at last when
suddenly a tiny scrap of cardboard
fallen between the mantel-piece and
the wall caught his eye. Tie took his
penknife and began forcing it up. It
might be nothing, ol' course, but he
had turned over every scrap of paper
and every book in the room, and he
would miss no chance.
The cardboard came up slowly. It
was wedged in firmly between the
mantel-piece and the wall, ' but he
loosened it at last and held it up to
When he saw it he gave a little ges-*
ture of disappointment. It was the
photograph of a child. Thr.t it be
longed to Emberson seemed the last
He called up the landlady and held
it out to her. She shook her bean over
GOT HIS THIEF, i
it. She had never seen it before, but
it must have belonged to Mr. Ember
son she said, for her own daughter!
had occupied the room before he ?ad
had it, and the photograph was pf|no
child they knew.
Marlow looked at it again and made
a note of the photographer's name,
which was printed on the back. It
bore the address of a small town, and
he frowned a little as he looked atilt.
What had Fred Emberson, a thier./to
do witina little child?
He shut his pocketbook with a snap j
and gave a final look around.
He was just turning away when' his
man came back from the station wiUcrj
the information that Emberson" had
been seen taking a ticket-not to Lon-j.
don, as they had expected, but to "*iv
little place called Staybridge, half war
down the line. It was a trick,'*'-;.?
course. He would go on to Euston :an|
pay excess fare, and be lost at once i|
thc London crowd.
Still Marlow sent his man to tele
graph to the station at Staybrldg)!
and waited, still impatiently, searc
ing the room, for the reply.
It came promptly. Only one pcrsoj
had come by that train on the day ber |
fore, and that was a mechanic in ? :
working suit apparently on the laokj
out for work. Evidently it was ?nol
Emberson, and Marlow decided thal
his only chance now was to go to ;
Topping, where the photograph hai-|
He started immediately, sending his
man cn to London to try to get soma
information there, and meaning tb .
wait for him at Topping. He got out
at a little, quiet country station. Th?
town lay behind it-a sleepy market;!
town full of sheep and cattle and farm- i
ors' gigs, and bright with the spring j
He found the photographer easily
enough, and there a copy of the pho
tograph he had brought from Embc
son's rooms. It had been taken jd
about a year ago. The photographer
remembered it distinctly, because-thte
woman who brought the child'broke,
down, crying at the finish for no rea
son at all that he could make out
"I suppose you know nothing of 'her,
do you?" asked the detective, and the |
photographer shook his head.
"No; but she came from a place hoi
far from here.." he said. "At any rate, 1
I sent the proofs there:-to a placo.'
called Staybridge, about five miles
Detective Marlow started a little;'
Staybridge! Ho was on the road;-.jB7
last, surely! Staybridge was the pl?ci
to which Fred Emberson had boofSsv'.
-thc place at which the workingnj^v>
pulse quickened, and ten minutes lat
er he was walking away from Topping
toward the distant village.
It was a hot walk that day. The
roa^.s were dusty, and he was tired
when he reached lt at last.
He made his way slowly through the
straggling houses and quiet shops
toward an inn. He would hav? to
stop, of course; perhaps for some
days, certainly for one night.
He went in and had some tea. and
then set out to look around. He was
all impatience. The thought of the
?500 stirred him.
He was remembering with a beating
heart the girl he meant to marry
thinking that it would not be long
now-when a bend in the road brought
him suddenly upon a small cottage.
It lay close to the road, a low wall
hemming in its little square patch of
garden, and a little wooden gate lead
ing to the flagged path, bordered with
wallflowers and lupins and lavender.
He looked up half carelessly, won
dering if Emberson was living In a
cottage like that-if he was in Stay
bridge at all-when the sight of a little
child sitiing on the wall brought him
to a standstill,
Something about her was familiar.
At first he could not tell what, and then
he remembered the braid on her frock
and the braid on the child in the pho
tograph. It was the same dress, the
same child, only now she was older
He stopped and went toward her.
She was such a little, thin child, and
her face was pale and delicate In spite
of the country air. She looked up at
him with bright eyes and smiled, and
somehow he felt oddly uncomfortable
He hesitated before he spoke, and
then his question came with a gruff,
"What is your name?" he asked.
Her round eyes searched his face. It
looked stern enough just then, hut it
dd not frighten her. She slipped down
from the wall and held out her hand.
"It's May," she said.
"And-what is your father's name?"
In spite of himself Marlow hesi
"Father's called !F'd darling,' " she
replied. " 'Cos mother said so, An*
he's been way such a long time, and I
don!t fink he'd ever come back."
Tho detective looked down at her.
''When did he come back?" he
The child, all unconscious, took her
father another step nearer prison.
"Only the day before this day," she
said, "and I was s'prised. "I just
couldn't fink who it was. But mother
knew, and she cried, and lt made her
iller, and the doctor was very ang'y."
"Where is your father?" asked Mar
The child's eyes dilated a little.
"He mustn't be 'sturbed," sae said,
.'He's wif mother and mother's dre ff ul
ill. "That's why he came back all In
such a hurry."
She stopped, looking up at the detec
tive with eyes that almost unnerved
him. Perhaps something in his face
began at last to impress Itself upj
her baby mind, for a sudden dre
came to her lip.
"I 'spects father's very boverejl,"
she said, slowly.
At that Instant thc cottage door was
flung open anda man looked out. Wlten
ho saw Marlow he made a half-moj/e
ment backward and then altered Jais
mind and stood still. :
Marlow looked at him and recbg
nt?ed his man. This was Fred sjm
berson, the thief; this was the man
he had come to catch-this was the
man whose capture meant ?500.
And between them stood a child
whose mother was very ill.
She turned delightedly.
"Why, there's father/' she cried.
Detective Marlow took a step for
ward and Emberson, suddenly making
up his mind, came down the little
"I know who you are," he said
hoarsely, "and I know why you've
come. I suppose it's all up; but I j
couldn't help it, and perhaps- aft??- I
ward-the old man will forgive her."
He jerked his head backward.
"Have you guessed who she is?" he
asked. "Did Mr. Ritchie guess? Per
haps he'll take care of her when
when I'm shut up. But I never meant
to take the m or. ey-I shouldn't have
^?reaini^^?-^-iiL^iaJia4n't been so ill.
They say she-she's almost" dymg-,-?nro
we had hard, work to live on the sal
-ary Mr. Ritchie gave me-and I
couldn't help it It's saved her per
haps. I got down last night, and I
got her everything I could-all the
luxuries I could; but she doesn't know
I stole the money. She mustn't know
.^ill she's well again. The neighbors .
will look after her, and .1 want you
..to take me quietly, so that nobody
-Will see. I admit everything, I'll ad
mit everything to Mr. Ritchie, but I
did it for her, and perhaps when he
knows she's his daughter he'll forgive
her and take the child. I can go. I'll
promise never to trouble them again,
.but it was the thought of her dying
that made me do it."
I He broke off abruptly and turned
r-rback to the cottage.
p:?'Let me wish her goodby," he said
^huskily. "You'd better come in."
. He pushed open the cottage door
with a weary air.
I "It's the end of everything," Em
berson went on. "Mr. Ritchie trusted
? me for a year-I served him faithfully
.. and perhaps he will remember that,
hfor ber sake. I went to him on pur
' pose1-my wife and I arranged to try
tc get his forgiveness in that way if
|re could. It seemed the only way, and
it might have been all right if I had
not been mad at the last, but I had a
"telegram saying how ill she was and
l l could not help it. 1-I-did not stop
I-,;-' "I went to him a year ago, for the
I child's sake. My name isn't Embor
l.son, of course, but I couldn't go in
I* my right name lest he should recog
j.nize it We wanted to win his for
. giveness first. It hasn't answered,
.But' he'll take care of her-and the j
child. Oh, God knows, he surely
^osldn't refuse to take care of her and |
' the child."
He faced round eagerly to the de
tective, and Marlow, suddenly, euri
j*ously weak, held out his hand, and
made a bewildering remark.
fest?n hanged if I'll take the ?500,"
"he said"--' " -~~
* * ? *
He has said since that he is not
of the stuff of which a detective should
be made, for he did not arrest the
thief after all. Instead, he waited till
the morning, and then they dressed
the child in her Sunday best, and he
caught the first train back and took
her to see her grandfather.
What he said to him I do not know.
How he went to work I cannot tell,
but when he went bark to Staybridge
the old man went with him. And when
Fred met them at the cottage door
Ritchie had the child in his arms.
He looked into Fred's face and then
held out his hand.
"It's half my fault," he said. "If
I hadn't refused to sec you at first
five years ago, when my daughter
wanted me to-you wouldn't have had
the temptation. I see now how cruel
I have been."
? * ? *
Detective Marlow got married a few
weeks later. Mr. Ritchie said he had
caught the thief, and persisted in gk?
, lng him tho ?500 after all-Tit-Bits
The Chinese have no idea of what
Americans mean by comfort. W?
wear hats at all seasons. They ask
why we should wear a hat in summer
any more than heavy gloves. If the
sun is too hot and you are delicate,
there is always the umbrella; if it is
too cold, there is always the hood. In
"China's Open Door," Mr. Rounse
vell Wildman says that there is ab
solutely no standard of comparison
between the Chinese and the Ameri
In discussing the economics of the
Chinese, there is no place where you
can stop. Nothing is lost. Every an
imal is eaten, regardless of flic cause
of his demise. The sardine and fruit
cans that wc extravagantly throw into
the dump are born again as tin cups
and cooking utensils. The weed that
cannot be eaten is used as fuel with
which to cook the weed that may ba
edible. In autumn the leaves of trees
are gathered by children who are too
young to labor, and pounded Into
bricks and dried for their winter fuel.
It may be put down as an axiom
that there are no Idle people in Chi
na. A visitor In Canton or Pekin
may be struck with many cases of
coolies or shopkeepers sleeping in the
street or in their stalls, regardless
of the deafening babble that surrounds
them. It is not idleness, however; it
is a habit that is responsible for much
of the endurance of the people.
The Chinese sleep when they have
nothing else to do; and they sleep the
sleep of the just where a well bred Eu?
ropean dog would not be able to get
so much as a "catnap." They can
sleep or work in any position, and
keep it up for hours at a time. A ner
vous Chinaman I have never seen, and
an exhibition of "nerves" among eith
er sex if, unknown.
It ls the absence of nerves that ena
bles the Chinese to endure pain as
well as toll. Every missionary doc
tor or hospital surgeon who has
worked among the Chinese relates
stories of operations that have been
performed without the use of chloro
form that are hardly conceivable. Yet
in almost every case the Chinaman
seemed to feel little pain, and recov
ered almost Immediately.-Youth's
Some judges indulge in epigrams
while others are fond of long sen
A SPIDER'S GENIUS.
?. Feat In Engineering Tliat Suggests R
I have considerable respect for the
Ten?ale spider, notwithstanding the
fact that she does not treal the male
very considerately. I had an oppor
tunity last summer to watch a large
ene that had a web in the top of a
decaying peach tree with so few leaves
that it was in plain view. I caught
fight of her first when watching some
birds with roy glass. She seemed to
be climbing from the top of the tree
on nothing to a telephone wire rome
13 feet away and somewhat higher
I than her web. When she reached the
wire she went around it and then
tack. In studying the situation I
found the web was so located that it
required a cable to hold it up, and
the spider had in some way got ono
?VCr_th<k_.wino-tuv- a.. -"
le was, of course, a slender silken
thread which evidently she had thrown
out, and on account of its lightness
it had floated to the right place and
become attached there by its own glu
tinous properties. It seems remark
able that it should have adhered to
the wiro firmly enough to allow so
large an insect to climb over it, which
slip did every day as long as I watched
her, evidently to mend or strengthen
it. The spider must have brains in
which the ability to construct its web
and adapt it to conditions is highly
developed. In an article in Chamber's
Journal the following account of how
the spider forms it? silken threa? i
* is given:
one of the most interesting feat
ures in the economy of spiders is their
power of emitting slender threads of
a silk like substance called gossamer,
with which most of them construct
mesh like nets, and a few long, dang
ling cables, by which they are buoyed
through thc air with nearly as much
facility as though they had been fur
nished with wings. The apparatus
provided by nature f r elaborating
and emitting this gossamer is a beau
tiful piece of mechanism. Within the
animal there are several little bags
or vesicles of a gummy matter; and
these vesicles are connected with a
circular orifice at thc abdomen. With
in this orifice are five little teats or
spinnerets, through which the gossa
mer is drawn. It must not be con
cluded, however, that there is only
enc film cf gossamer produced by each
spinneret; the fact is, these teats are
studded with thousands of minute
tubes too small for the naked eye to
perceive, and each of these emits a
thread of inconceivable fineness. These
minute tubes are known as spinerules,
and the films which proceed from
them unite like so many strands of a
rope to form the thread of gossamer
by which a spider suspends itself. The
finest thread which human mechanism
can produce is like a ship's cable com
pared with the delicate films which
flow from the spinnerulcs of thc larg
est spider. The films are all distinct
ly separate on coming from the spin
neret, but unite, not by any twisting
process, but merely by their own glu
tinous or gummy nature. Thus the
spinning apparatus of the disdained
spider when viewed by the eye of sci
ence becomes one of the most won
derful pieces of animated mechanism
known to man. Tlie animal has great ?
command over this apparatus, and
can apply it at will as long as the re
ceptacles within are replenished with
the gummy fluid, but as soon as this
gum is exhausted all its efforts to
spin are fruitless, and it must wait
till nature by her inscrutable chemis
try, has secreted it from thc food
which is devoured."-Dr. M. L. Hoi
brook, in the Phrenological Journal.
Not Fnch a .Toke; After AU.
"Yes, I lost that dog at last. I had ;
been hoping against hope that some
body would steal him, and after that J
chance seemed exhausted I happened '.
to think that it was wrong to hope
that a fellow man might commit a ?
crime, and so I desisted. And then i
one day he walked away deliberate
ly and never came back."
"How did yo'.:r wife feel about it?"
"She was all broken up. She made
me advertise him. I did. I named
a reward too."
"And you didn't get him back?"
"Not much. You see I worded it :
like this: 'Dog lost. Please return ?
to owner and receive $3 and no ques
tions asked.' Then I gave the street
and number of the home of a man I
" Did the joke work well?"
"Work well! I should say it did.
The last time I saw him he said he'd
give $50 to find out the name of the
scoundrel who worked the infernal
sell on him. But he could well af- i
"Why, picked out half a dozen of
the dogs that were brought to him
and sold 'em for an average of $20
a piece!"-Cleaveland Plain Dealer.
T*oasjint Coif nina* In Ireland.
A certain number of peasants in
the wilder and remoter districts of
Ireland still wear something like a
national costume. About Lough
Mash plenty of the lasses are to be
seen in the picturesque red petticoats
that artists loved to bring into their
sketches of Irish life. A sprinkling
of the old high hats may be seen; thc
older fishermen and others wear them,
but the younger school shun such an
tiquated headgear, as the English
peasant of today does the smock
Trying to Conceal lt.
Judge William E. Wierner of the
court of appeals recently related the
alleged experience of a prominent
country lawyer, who, becoming nettled
at the rilling nf a judge, picked up his
, hat and started to walk out of Ute
courtroom. He w:is halted by tho
I court with thc inquiry: " Are vou try
\ ing to express your contempt for the
"No, your honor." was the reply. "1
; am trying to conceal it."-New York
"Say, Pop. what ekes this mean?
'United wc stand, divided we fall'?"
"It means five dollars, my son. If
(hey are In a single bill they are easy
to keep, but let them he broken up
! and they simply spend themselves."
San Francisco Bulletin.
] ? Relies of King Alfred. ?
! ^ An Interesting Dlsp?ay Shotrn in O
Q tho British Museum. j??
y ft" "V H? British Museum, lu intel
9 ; ligent anticipation of the
of King Alfred thu Great, ar
ranged a special exhibition of all the
relics contained in the national collec
tion relating to Alfred and his times.
It is not a large collection, says the
London Graphic, but it illustrates rho
many sidedness of Alfred's character J
in a remarkably effective way. The
manuscripts naturally appeal more
especially to the scholur, but the au
thorities have taken pai^s^j^joiafce
I^BraT~p??)??e. The manuscript copy
of the life of St. Neot, in Latin, for in
stance, is opened at the page in which
the story of Alfred and the cakes first
makes its appearance, and one of the
three fine copies of the "Anglo-Saxon
Chronicle" is opened to show the ac
count of the great battle of Ashdown,
when Alfred and his brother, Ethelred,
defeated the whole army of the Danes
on the site which is supposed to be
marked by the well-known figure of
the white horse cut into the side of
the chalk downs of Berkshire, near
Several of the most precious MSS.
bear unmistakable signs of having
passed through the ordeal of fire, hav
ing suffered severely in the outbreak
lu the Cottoniau Library in 1731. Then
there arc the laws and charters of
RELICS OF KING ALFRED EXHI1
1. The Alfred jewel (replica), original at
the Ashmolean Museum, Oxford.
2. Ethehvulf'a ring.
3. Anglo-Saxon ring.
4k Silver spoon and fork, S00-S90, found at
5. Ring Ethelswith (sister of Alfred),
Alfred, and an early copy of his will
in Anglo-Saxon. Oue of the most in
teresting volumes is a manuscript copy
of thc well-known Life ot' Alfred by
Asser-the monk of St. David's, who
first came to Alfred's court about SST
-opened at the page describing the
King's occupations and character.
Of the personal objects by far the
most popular is the facsimile of the
famous Alfred Jewel, the authenticity
of which has just been vouched for by
Professor Earle in the elaborate book
on the subject published by the Oxford
University Tress. The professor's
opinion is that thc jewel must have
been made by Alfred's order after his
owu design, and that it was probably
a production of hi? youth, before he
assumed a share in puTilic affairs by
the side of his brother, Ethelred.
The collection of Anglo-Saxon rings
in the exhibition is remarkable. The
massive gold ring of Ethelwulf, King
of Wessex, aud father of Alfred the
Great-discovered at Laverstock aud
presented to the museum by rho Earl
of Radnor-and of Alfred's sister, Eth
elwith, Queen of Mercia-found in
Yorkshire and presented by the late
Sir A. W. Franks-brings us very near
to the actual personality of the King,
and are in themselves Avonderful
pieces of workmanship for the period
to which they belong. So skilfully
made are they, indeed, that it has been
suggested that they are more probably
the work of Roman smiths than Eng
But there arc other evidences of the
skill of these ninth-century craftsmen.
A curious silver spoon and fork will be
found among the domestic examples,
and the collection of coins is very linc.
Another relic worth noticing is a lead
en trial-piece, with a cast on the re
verse side for a silver penny of King
Alfred, from a die l>y the moneyer
Ealdulf. This was found buried in
St. Paul's Churchyard in 1811. The
design was apparently rejected ima
canceled, but a very similar die of the
same moneyer was on another occa
sion authorized by the King, as speci
mens of the mintage are extant. Round
the edge of a circular silver brooch of
Saxon workmanship-with an open
work centre evidently representing a
bird of prey-is tho inscription. "Aelf
givv me au" (Aelfgifu owns me),
which corresponds with that on *''0
gold ring of Aethred, also exhibited.
The brooch was found near Chatham
The bronze seal of Ethelwald (Bish
op of Durham about 850), another of
the relics represented in our Illustra
A cobweb Is a much stronger thing
weight may be held up by one steel w
cobwebs, seven iron wires, four plat!
wires, four copper wires, four brass
J lions, was found nt Ero, Suffolk, near
i the site of the monastery, and was
subsequently damaged by fire. The
central device occurs on a silver pen
ny of Edward the Elder, son of Alfred
Movements of Stones.
Nearly everyone has observed the
jauntily-tilted appearance that head
stones and monuments acquire in old
grave yards, and those who have
stone walls with iiisuilic!euf founda
tion surrounding their premises are
DEMONSTRATING JHE MOVEMENTS OP ? .
STONE AFFECTED BY M0ISTUI?E.
greatly troubled at the regularity with
.which they tumble down. At tho last
meeting of the Royal Society, of Lon
don, the "Small Vertical Movements of
a Stone Laid on the Surface of the
Ground" was discussed by Dr. Horace
Darwin. By means of a stone with a
hole bored in the centre, through
which passed a rod deeply imbedded
In the ground and a finely graduated
micrometer, readings were taken over
a considerable period of time. It was
found that the movements of the stone
were directly connected with the mois
ture of the ground. To graphically
?ITED AT THE BRITISH MUSEUM
S?5-PS0). found in West Riding ot
6. Trial piece for silver penny of Alfred,
found in St. Paul's churchyard.
7. Ornament, with inscription, "Aelf gifu
owns me." found in Kent, 1822.
8. Bronze seat of EtL-chnrid.,- found at~
illustrate this point the accompanying
curves were plotted.
Forestry a New Profession.
Under the jurisdiction of the De
partment of Agriculture are such Im
portant bureaus and offices as Fores
try, Public Roads, Animal and Plane'
Chemistry, Entomology and Textile
Industries. Hundreds of experts are*
employed in these bureaus. In for-;
estry in particular ls the Government;
trying to educate and instruct a largo
corps of practical, scientific men, whoj
can take proper charge of the forest?
lands of the country, and show to thej
private owners how best to make;
them profitable and productive with-!
out destroying them. Forestry may
be called a new profession, and Gov-,
ernmcnt experts are trying to find ti
body of men sufficiently in love with
trees and their preservation and versed
in the lore and science of timber cul
ture, to make them of practical utility
to the country. These foresters must
be something more than mero tlmber
cutters and woodsmen; they must
have a knowledge of the needs of
trees, a practical working familarity
with the different varieties of growths
and a fair knowledge of entomology.
Tiie insect ravages arc so great in
many of our forests that the forester
must be able to check their increase
and ravages. Many practical foresters
to-day. whether employed by the For-''
estry Division of the Department of
Agriculture, or by private owners of:
large timber tracts, receive from'
$1200 to .52000 a year.-Collier's Week
Pink Suakts in a Hot-Spring.
Harry Jackson, one of a party who
have just returned from a hunting and
fishing trip to the country around the
base of Mount Jefferson, gives a re
markable account of adventure in that
almost unexplored region. One of the
most wonderful rinds of the party was
o- hot spring, or series of springs and
pools, In which thc waiei ?voa ou w,*.
as to preclude ell idea of bathing.
Strange to say, these hot springs are
inhabited by snakes of a pink color
about two feet In length. They arc
very numerous and swim about with
great rapidity. Though they occasion
ally come out on the rocks to bathe
in the sun, they seem to prefer the wa
ter, and whenever pulled out (with a
stick, of course), they wriggle back
as soon as possible.-Morning Ore
There arc eight submarine cables of
over 2,000 miles in length.
I OF A COBWEB
Ri'm n u
n Ifflrrn rW? "nH^
than most people thiuk lt. Tho same
ire thc diameter of a cobweb, five
num wires, four gold wires, four sliver