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^ ISSUED SEMX'VSESL^ l. m. geist's sons, PnbUshen. I % Jfamilg Jiewspger; ^or the ?romotion of the political, Social, ^jriciiltural, and Commercial Interests of the feopte. {TmSieoui'Jop/'m*1 oKmfNCI1' ESTABLISHED 1855. YOEKVILLE, S. C., FRIDAY, APRIL 15, 1904. NO. 31. + I GhGe II Fro It " '[ *By 2 j ; ? > !*] | Copyright, J899, by DoabUda, ?; ?> Copyright. 190 ?i ? CHAPTER XV. AlwlT Was 5 o'clock when Harkless Igll climbed the stairs to the HerESg aid office, and his right arm and hand were aching and ** ** mn rt fhrt An Itt nor. limp. 11 OSS UCUUUtlU V? txa liic VJUIJ J.V. son in the editorial room, and there was nothing in his appearance that should have caused a man to start and fall back from the doorway, but that is what John did. "What's the matter, Mr. Harkless?" cried Ross, hurrying forward with a fear that the other had been suddenly re-seized by illness. "What are those?" asked Harkless, with a gesture of his band that seemed to include the entire room. "Those?" repeated Ross, staring blankly "Those rosettes ? these streamers ? that stovepipe?all this blue ribbon?" Ross turned tale. "Ribbon?" he said inquiringly. "Ribbon?" He seemed unable to perceive the decorations referred to. "Yes," answered John. "These rosettes on the chairs, that band, and"? "Oh!" Ross answered. "That?" He fingered the band on the stovepipe as if he saw it for the first time. "Yes; I see." "But what's it for?" "Why?it's?it's likely meant fer decorations." "It seems to have been here some time." "It has. I reckon it's most due to b<: called In. It's be'n up ever sencesence"? "Who put it up, Ross?" "We did." "What for?" Ross was visibly embarrassed. "Why ?fer?fer the other editor." "For Mr. Fisbee?" "Land, no! You don't suppose we'd go to all that work and bother to brisken things up for that old gentleman. do you?' "1 meant young Mr. Fisbee. He 13 the other editor, isn't he?" "Oh!" said Ross. "Young Mr. Fisbee? Yes: we put 'em up fer him." "You did? Did he appreciate'them?" "Well, lie?seemed to?kind of like 'em." "Where is he now? 1 came here to find him." j "He's gone." "Gone? Hasn't he been here this afternoon ?" "Yes: some the time. Come in and stayed durin' the leevy you was holdin' and saw the extry off all right." "When will he be back?" "Sence it's be'n a daily he gits here by 8 after supper, but don't stay very late. Old Mr. Fisbee and Parker look aner wiilllfver UJIU? iu liicu, uuivoa it's something special. He'll likely be here by half past 8 at the farthest off." "1 can't wait till then. I've been wanting to see him every minute since I got in. and he hasn't been near me. Nobody could even point him out to me. Where bus he gone? I want to see him now." "Want to discharge him again?" said a voice from the door. and. turning, they saw that Mr. Martin stood there observing them. "No," said Harkless. "I want to give him the Herald. Do you know where he Is?" . Mr. Martin stroked his beard deliberately. "The person you speak of hadn't ought to be very hard to find in Carlow, and?well, maybe when found you'll want to put a kind of a codicil to that deed to the Herald. The committee was reckless enough to hire that carriage of yours by the day, and Keating and Warren Smith are sitting in it up at the corner with their feet on the cushions to show how used they are to riding around with four white horses every day in the week. It's waiting till you're ready to go out to Briscoes'. There's an hour before supper time, and you can talk to young Fisbee all you want. He's out there." The first words Warren Smith spoke had lifted the veil of young Flsbee's duplicity; had shown John with what fine intelligence and supreme delicacy and sympathy young Fisbee had worknri fr>f 1*1 *11 hurt nnrlorstnnd linn and bud made him. If the open attack on McCune had been made and the damnatory evidence published in Harkless' own paper while Harkless himself was a candidate and rival he would have felt dishonored. The McCune papers could have been used for Hulloway's benefit, but not for his own. and young Fishee had understood and had saved him. It was a point of honor that many would have held finical and inconsistent, but one tUnt young Fishee had comprehended was vital to Harkless. And this was the man he had discharged like a dishonest servant, the man who had thrown what (in Carlow eyes) was riches into his lap. the man who had made his paper and who had made him and saved him. Harkless wanted to see young Fishee as he longed to see only one other person in the woriu. As the barouche drove up to the brick house he made out through the trees a retreative flutter of skirts on the porch, and the thought crossed his mind that Minnie had flown iudoors to give some tinal directions toward the preparation of the banquet. But when the barouche halted at the gate he was surprised to see her waving to him from the steps, while Tom Meredith and Mr..Bence and Mr. Boswell formed.u ***** ?'! * ! * * > ? !' ! ! ifl * * * ? > < ?> < ^ ?? ?> rifleman i diana ? ? ?. loora Tahki/igtoj* ^ "in K ^32 McClart Go. \ !*)) 2. by McClart. Tbillipj CSL Co. * * 1, i,j .i .i. -f. 4- 4. lfttle court around her. Llge Wllletts rode up on horseback at the same moment, and the judge was waiting in front of the gate. Harkless stepped out of the barouche and took his hand. "I was told young Fisbee was here." "Young Fisbee is here," said the Judge. Mr. Fisbee came around the corner of the house and went toward Harkless. "Fisbee," cried the latter, "where is your nephew?" The old man took his hand in both his own and looked him between the eyes and thus stood while there was a long pause, the others watching them. "You must not say that I told you," he said at last. "Go into the garden." But when Harkless' step crunched the garden there was no one there. Asters were blooming in beds between the green rosebushes, and their many Angered bands were Aung open in wide surprise that he should expect to find young Fisbee there. It was Just before sunset. Birds were gossiping in the sycamores on the bank. At the foot of the garden, near the creek, there were some tali hydrangea bushes, Aower laden, and beyond them one broad shaft of sun smote the creek bends for a mile in that flat land and crossed the garden like a bright, taut drawn veil. Hnrkless passed tlie bushes and stepped out Into this gold brilliance. Then he uttered a cry and stopped. Helen was standing beside the hydrangeas with both hands pressed to her fuce and her eyes cast on the ground. She had run away as far as she could run. There were high fences extending down to the creek on each side, and the water was beyond. You!" he said. "You! You!" She did not lift her eyes, but began to move away from him with little backward steps. When she reached the bench on the bank she spoke with a quick intake of breath and in a voice he almost failed to hear, the merest whisper, and her words came so slowly that sometimes minutes separated them. "Can you?will you keep me?011 the Herald?" "Keep you"? He came near her. "I don't under stand. Is It you?you?who are here again ?" "Have you forgiven me? You know ?now?why I wouldn't resign? You forgive my?that telegram?" "What telegram?" "The one that came to you?this morning." "Your telegram?" "Yes." "Did you send me one?" "Yes." "It did not couie to me." "Yes?it did." "But?what was it about?" "It was signed." she said; "it was Signed"? She paused and turned half away, not lifting the downcast lashes. Her hand, resting upon the back of the bench, was shaking. She put it behind 1 !?.??. umen W little Utr, 1 urn uri rjra nur iuivu u and. though they did not meet bis. be saw them, and a glory sprang into being in bis heart. Her voice fell still lower, and two heavy tears rolled down her cheeks. "It was signed," she whispered. "it was signed?"H. Fisbee.' " He began to tremble from head to foot. There was a long silence. She had turned full away from him. When he spoke his voice was as low as hers, and he spoke as slowly as she had. "You mean?then?then it was?you?" "Yes." "You!" "Yes." "And you?you have?you have been here all the time?" ' All?all except \ile week?you were ?hurt." The bright veil that wrapped them was drawn away, and they stood in the "You!" he said. "Your quiet, gathering dusk. lie tried to loosen his neckband; it seemed to be choking him. "I?I can't?I don't comprehend it. I am trying to realize what It all means." "It means nothing." she answered. "There was an editorial yesterday," he said, "an editorial that I thought was about Rodney McCuoe. Did yon write it?" "Yes." "It was about?me?wasn't it?" "Yes." "It said?it said that?that I had jyon the?the^-love of every person In Carlow county." Suddenly she found her voice. "Do not misunderstand me," she said rapidly. "I have done the little that I have done out of gratitude." She faced him now, but without meeting his eyes. "I owed you more gratitude than a woman ever owed a man before, I tblnk, and I would have died to pay a part of It." "What gratitude did you owe me?" "What gratitude? For what you did for my father." "I have never seen your father in my life." "Listen. My father is a gentle old man with white hair and kind eyes. My name Is my uncle's. He and my aunt have been good to me as a father QTlri m Athor clnoo T troa ooron rooi?a old. and they gave me their name by law. and I lived with them. My father came to see me once a year; I never came to see him. He always told me everything was well with him, that his life was happy, and I thought it was easier for him not having me to take care of, he has been so poor ever since I was a child. Once he lost the little he had left to him In the world, bis only way of making his living. He had no friends; he was hungry and desperate, and he wandered. I was dancing and going about wearing jewels?only I did not know. All the time the brave heart wrote me happy letters. I should have known, for there was one who did and who saved him. When at last I came to see my father he told nte?he had written of his idoi before, but it was not till I came that he told It all to me. Do you know what I felt? While his daughter was dancing cotillons a stranger had taken his hand and?and"? A sob rose in her throat and checked her utterance for a moment, but she threw up her head proudly. "Gratitude, Mr. Harkless!" she cried. "I am James Fisbee's daughter!" He fell back from the bench with a sharp exclamation and stared at her through the erav twilight She went on hurriedly, still not looking at him. "I wanted to do something to show you that I could be ashamed of my vile neglect of him?something to show you his daughter could be grateful?and It has been such dear, happy work, the little I have done, that It seems, after all, that I have done It for love of myself. It is what I bad always wanted to do?to earn a living for myself, to live with my father. When I came here, my aunt and uncle were terribly afraid I would stay with him. It was to prevent this that they determined to go abroad, and my-father said I must go back to ttem. Then you were? were hurt, and he needed me so much be let me stay. When you?when you told me"?she broke ofT with a strange, fluttering, half inarticulate little laugh that was half tears and then resumed In another tone?"when you told me you cared that night?that night of the storm?how could I be sure? It had been only two days, you see. and even if I could have been sure of myself?why, I couldn't have told you. Oh, I had so brazenly thrown myself at your head time and again those two days in my?my worship of your goodness to my father and my excitement in recognizing In his friend the hero of my girlhood that you had every right to think I cared; but If?but if I had?If I had?loved you with my whole soul I could not have?why, uo woman could have?I mean the sort of girl I am?couldn't liuve udmitted itmust have denied it. Do you think that then I could have answered 'Yes.' even If I had wanted to?even If I had beeu sure of myself? And now"? Her fi?nk ncrain to a whisper. "And now"? "And now?" he said tremulously. She gave a hurried glance from right to left and from left to right, like one in terror seeking a way of escape; she gathered her skirts in her hand as If to run Into the garden, but suddenly she turned and ran to him. She threw her arms about his neck and kissed him on the forehead. When they heard the judge calling from the orchard they went back through the garden toward the house. It was dark. The whitest asters were but gray splotches. There was no one In the orchard. Briscoe had gone indoors. "Did you know you are to drive me into town in the phaeton for the fireworks?" she asked. "Fireworks?" "Yes. The great Harkless has come home." Even in the darkness he could see the look the vision had given him when the barouche turned into the square. She smiled upon him and said, "All afternoon I was wishing I could have been your mother." He clasped her hand more tightly. "This wonderful world!" he cried. "Yestordav I had a doctor?a doctor to cure me of lovesickness!" After a time they had proceeded a little nearer the house. "We must hurry." she said. "I am sure they have been waiting for us." This was true; they had. From the dining room came laughter and hearty voices, and the windows were bright with the light of many lamps. By and by they stood Just outside the patch of light that fell from one of the windows. "Look!" said Helen. "Aren't they good, deur people?" "The beautiful people!" he answered. THE END. X-ir A leading newspaper in Austria complains that under the reciprocity treaty with Cuba the consumption of sugar in the United States will be fully covered by the home production and Cuban crops. The consumption in the United States is estimated at 2,000,000 tons a year. Out of this Cuba, where the crop this year is nearly 350,000 tons larger than last year, will deliver the lion's share?say 1,200,000 tons. The raw sugar production of Louisiana and Florida contributes 300,000 tons, the Philippines 100,000 tons and the United States proper turns out 250,000 itttscfllatwous Reading. ' g WHISKY FIGHT IN CONGRESS. 1 1 Technical Facts for the Average Man 8 Who Drinks. 5 ll Routine reports of the proceedings e of congress give no Idea of the strife j, and turmoil engendered by those sections of the pending Hepburn-Dolltver t pure food bill which seek to maintain ^ the integrity of the high ball and pre- f serve the purity of the rickey. t The average man of voting age in v this country, and there are more than t 21,000,000 of him, consumes some five gallons of distilled spirits annually, to , say nothing of wines, beers, etc. The a desire Is to protect this average man, 0 to legislate him into the straight and g narrow path which leads to alcoholic j, purity. Hence the struggle between j, the actual distiller and the man who 0 rectifies, blends or compounds. n The straight-goods whisky men con- s tend that their bottled-ln-bond Bour- t bon or rye is the only genuine article n and the one brand of goods that the t drinker can quaff with impunity. The ], blenders insist that the only road to c absolute immunity from all the ills of g dissipation is through the use of a properly compounded bottle of all that is virtuous in whiskydom. In the meantime the unenlightened average man, who knows nothing S about the merits of the dispute, who meekly deposits the price and takes what the barkeeper hands out, stands in bewilderment, for by drinking of It. he ^ knows not the difference between rye c and Bourbon, straight and rectified, j He can now take the facts as developed In the hearings before the committee in charge of the Hepburn-Dolliver ^ bill, or as set forth on the side by experts for both camps, pay his money ^ and take his choice. Of course there are outlawed straight whisky and upright blends, good and c wholesome rye and bourbon and dishonest compounds. For example, bourbon whisky direct from the still is without color and impregnated with poisonous oils and essences. The fa- f miliar golden hue comes from the charred Inside of the oaken barrels In t which the whisky Is aged and purified. Dishonest men have been known to take the rank new whisky, when only a few months old, reduce its fire by the addition of water, bring up its color by the admixture of drugs and put it on the market as old liquor. Then indeed, it is vile. On the other hand, your clever . blender or rectifier, prone to deceive, c takes neutral spirits, prune juice, burned sugar, water and bead oil and makes a tolerable cheap ^whisky^ one t that misleads both the eye and the 1 palate of the occasional drinker and ^ satisfies the thirst of the drunkard. And it need not be especially dele- ^ terious, this mixture. t "Neutral spirits" is pure grain alcohol, made from wheat or corn, and distilled pretty much as whisky isdis- ^ tilled, except that it is highly concen- ^ trated, is subjected to a process which removes all impurities and leaves the spirits tasteless, colorless and odorless and about 195 proof, or susceptible of reduction by the addition of 100 per cent of water and still have the alco- t hollc strength of six-year-old whisky. h While spurious rye or bourbon may t thus be made out of neutral spirits, fruit juices, etc., and the mixture be practically as pure as aged whisky, to the trained palate it is without that ^ peculiar flavor and aroma which is to j be found in the genuine goods properly aged. c The reputable and scientific blender t insists that neutral spirits doesn't en- ^ ter into the process which he employs, g but that he seeks to and actually does v produce a whisky more uniform in its Q flavor and purity, more attractive to n the eye and more pleasing to the taste f than any distinctly straight bourbon or rye to be found on the market, and t that the honest blender's label is a j passport to health and happiness. t He declares that neither rye nor v bourbon in its natural state meets the v requirements of the connoisseur, but j that a judicious intermingling of both, utilizing certain brands and ages, re- j suits in a beverage that surpasses any j, brand known to the trade as strictly ^ straight whisky. Each scientific rectifier or blender j( has his secret process or formula, to v divulge which, he asserts, would work c his financial ruin. Hence his strenuous opposition to the measure which j .1 iU?4 ?11 ?AA/lo O AM _ pFOpUSPU mat an uiciiucu euiruo ovtu j should have pasted upon the bottle a t label giving: the ingredients thereof. f Straight whisky is known as either rye or bourbon. Bourbon whisky got its name originally from the county of that name in Kentucky, where a great n deal of whisky was made in pioneer a days, but the term is now applied gen- ii erally to all Kentucky or corn whis- c ky, most of the ryes coming from c Maryland and Pennsylvania. ii Pure Bourbon whisky should contain s 60 per cent of corn, 30 per cent of rye t and 10 per cent of barley. Rye whisky f is made of rye and barley malt. h A bushel of corn will make about li four and a half gallons of whisky, c Without the government tax, new whis- r ky could be sold at a profit for 15 cents v a gallon, but the government adds $1.10 g a gallon to start with. This, with the o cost of storing the liquor until It a is six or eight years old, the loss by r evaporation, local taxes, etc., brings y the selling price of matured spirits to r tr\ 11 n e^fillnn t Many devices and processes for r aging whisky and hastening oxydlza- c tlon, or the removal of fuSel oil and q other poisons by evaporation, have t been tested, but no substitute has been o found for the original method of put- f ting new whisky in barrels, charred p inside, and keeping the barrels under o favorable conditions for six, eight or e ten years, when the whisky attains the t purity, bouquet and flavor peculiar to r the different brands and so strikingly a peculiar that old distillers can take - amples of whiskys from various loalities and tell from which county, :enerally from which particular distil- E ery, each Individual sample comes. Whether this Is due to the water, the rraln or the proportions of the lngrellents employed by the different houses las never been satisfactorily explained; but that It can be done is absoutely true. The war that has been waged beween the straight goods men and the 1 lenders in connection with the pure 8 ood bill is due to the effort of the dls- 8 illers to have a ban placed upon all | vhiskys not bottled in bond, In effect o dec'are all other products Impure. The bottllng-In-bond process is not f widely understood and, so far as the .verage man who calls for his drink ver a bar Is concerned, cuts no xeat figure. Whisky bottled In bond 3 bottled at the distillery warehouse j' n the presence of an internal revenue fflcer, who pastes over the cork and leek of each bottle a government tamp which guarantees the age of he whiskey and certifies that It was lot manipulated In its journey from he barrel to the bottle. Under the v iw whiskey less than four years old annot be bottled In bond.?New York J !un. r f BOERS STILL PRI80NERS. t itubborn Patriots Whs Refuse to Take ^ u Oath of Allegiance. a It is now two years since the Boer c far ended. The world has been of c he Impression that the rancor of that ]j onflict had largely disappeared. Eng- n md has announced the successive a teps of large schemes of repatriation f nd the world has given her the cred- v t of playing in all respects the part of j| generous conqueror. Even Colonel t *ynch, who stirred the fiercest resent- v dent of the English people, has, it Is b aid, through the social influence of f Sir Thomas Lipton with the king, been E et free. One would expect this to c e the last act of pardon, the very end 1 f the passion of intemperate resent- 8 fient which England could not help but ? eel for an enemy which had to bear ot only the expected punishment of ? he conquered, but the added rancor f k-hich came of England's realization 8 f her own army's incompetency, and ^ f the fact that thfe overwhelming ympathy of the world was with her 11 mall antagonist. a It is surprising therefore, at this late c ate to receive an appeal from forty- 0 hree Boer prisoners who are still de- 1 ained on the Bermuda Islands, under s Ircumstances which one hopes the a British government may be able to resent In a better light than does c heir appeal. These prisoners are not v rlminals. They are not of those f )utch subjects of England who joined c heir brothers in the Transvaal and n rhom England saw fit to treat as a raitors. They are not among those *' /horn the English excluded from the p eneral amnesty because of alleged v reaches of the rules of war. They are *' loer soldiers whose status differs in 0 io way from that of the 4,000 others 1 yho were captured with Cronje at the c lodder river. 0 Their troubles are due solely to their efusals to take the oath,of allegiance 1 o Great Britain. This/Njne feels, Is 1 lardly a Justification for their deten- F ion. One does not like the spectacle 1 f a conquering nation forcing an oath r f allegiance down the throats of the c onquered. Such an oath might well 1 ie made a condition of participation ' n the new government of thd Trans- c aal. But these Boers do not wish, ac- r ordlng to their appeal, to return to 0 he Transvaal. They do not wish to 9 ecome subjects of the king. They de- r ire nothing more than to be released, ' yhen they will proceed to the United States or elsewhere to settle. It ought 0 iot to require exceptional generosity * or England to permit this. The Unit- 8 d States put no stone in the path of r he vice president of the Confederacy, r udah P. Benjamin, who preferred not 1 o remain in his home under a flag e rhich he had fought against, and as a 0 oluntary exile rose to eminence in the 1 .ondon bar. There were at one time some 5,000 r loer prisoners of war on the Bermuda r 3lands. At the close of the war of- 0 leers of the British army appeared at 8 iermuda and presented tne oatn ui aiegiance. This, nearly all of the Boers, F flth the advice of their leaders, ac- r epted. Those who signed the oath 1 fere taken back to their homes on e Jrltlsh warships, at the expense of the 1 Iritish government. But the forty- c hree who now make the appeal, re- 1 used to swear.?Boston Transcript. c a To Change a Quarter.?"How much l< noney does it take to make change for v quarter?" queried the man whose fad n 3 freak mathematics. "Twenty-five n ents, eh? You're away out. To v hange a quarter in the various ways I t can be done requires a capital of v eventy cents. If a fellow wanted plen- n y of coin for his quarter he'd tax you l< or twenty-flve pennies. On the other v land, the man who wanted the least 11 oose change for his quarter would t ome at you for two dimes and a r tickle. The chap who wanted a diversity of coin In his change would 11 ret into you for two flve-cent pieces, ii ne dime and five pennies, which would f llow him to Juggle copper, silver and d fickle in his jeans. Others might ask a ou to produce four nickles and five ii lennies, three nickles and ten pennies; C wo nickles and fifteen pennies or one a dckle and twenty pennies. 11 you es- j. aped these demands you might be re- li luested to come up with five nickels, f hree nickels and one dime, one nickle, ne dime and ten pennies, one dime and a Ifteen pennies, or two dimes and five r >ennies. There are just twelve ways f f 'breaking' a quarter in current Unit- 1 <1 States coin, and to be there with v he goods for any demand you would g equire twenty-five pennies, two dimes C nd five nickles?in all seventy cents." a -Philadelphia Press. t NITROGEN FROM AIR. Economic Source of a Valuable Commercial Commodity. To appreciate the Importance of the llscovery of obtaining nitrogen from he air It should be realized that nlrogen is Just about the most useful lubstance In the world. It enters argely Into the composition of all lant and animal tissues. The meat nd vorotnhlos wo ont enntoln aeon iderable percentage of it, and it la he moat essential element of the stuff n our food which goes to make flesh nd blood. The body of an average nan holds nearly four pounds of nlrogen. Inasmuch as four-fifths of the air ve breathe is nitrogen it is obvious hat the available supply of the stuff s practically inexhaustible and unlimted. if we could only get at it. It is , colorless gas. without taste or odor nd serves usefully to dilute the atnospherlc oxygen, which is too strong o be taken into the lungs in a pure tate. Plants, especially clover, absorb t from the air, and thus enrich soil in t-hich they grow. But this is a slow irocess and farmers supplement it by ertillzing with nitrogen salts (called iltrates), which are mostly obtained rom Chile. Now, however, a means has been found o bring it within reach of the everyay farmer, the air being led to give ip its stores of nitrogen for fertilizing nd other industrial purposes, the proAda flmnl/MfO/1 Kolr\Or OA aimrkin QflH COi3 CIII^IWJ CU UVIIIQ OV Bllll|/tv v?*<v> heap that the nitrates of Chile are Ikely soon to be driven out of the narket. The discovery was made by ccldent, incidentally to the manuacture of acetylene gas, to obtain ^hlch calcium is fused with charcoal n an electric furnace. It was found hat when a current of nitrogen gas i-as admitted to the furnace it comilned with the materials present to orm a substance which, when analyzed iroved to contain from 10 to 22 per ent of pure nitrogen. By further reatment of a simple character it was o far refined as to yield no less than 6 per cent of the precious substance. One might ask: How is the nitro;en gas obtained for use In theelecric furnace? Nothing could be more imple. A current of air is passed over ,ot plates of copper, which burn oxy:en, and the nitrogen enters the furlace in a practically pure state. Once dmltted. It combines with the calium and charcoal to form crude lumps f material, which, on being refined, ake the form of a white granular ubstance, not unlike sugar In appearnce. Out of this valuable salt an expert heml8t can manufacture products /hlch are available for a great variejr of commercial uses. He may, If he hooses, convert it into sulphate of amnonla, which is exceedingly precious s a fertilizing agent; or he can transorm it Into cyanides, which are emiloyed nowadays in ever so many mys from the extraction of gold from Is ore to the extermination of insects n fruit trees. As a basis for explosves, such as nitroglycerin and gunotton, it is likely to take the place f the nitrate of soda from Chile. TKa nrnoooa nnno lrnnwn NlflMrfl ''alls alone, will be able to manufacure enough solidified nitrogen to supply the world's demands. Plenty of >ower Is furnished by the cataract to un any number of furnaces, and one an easily imagine as a provpect of he not distant future the shipment rom that point of nitrogen bricks in arload lots, destined for export to all ?arts of the world. They will need inly to be ground up in order to be prlnkled, in the shape of nitrogen neal, along the furrows dug by the armer's plow. Already, for some time past, the iwners of electrical plants at Niagara i'alls have been trying to obtain nilroren from the atmosphere by other neans, though not with satisfactory esults. It was discovered more than wo centuries ago by Priestly and Cavndish, that the nitrogen and oxygen if the air could be made to combine in he form of nitric acid under the influence of the electric spark. This haptens during every thunder storm, and ain water that talis under such cirumstances, is found to contain a mall per centage of nitric acid. What he people at Niagara tried to accomilish was the artificial production of iltric acid by throwing sparks through he air with the help of a powerful lectric apparatus. They got the nlric acid, but the trouble was that it ost too much. Such a method of exractlng nitrogen from the atmosphere ould never, it was finally realized, be . commercial success. Nitrogen, in a state of nature, exsts only as a gas, save, of course, rhere it is combined with other elenents, in plants, in the flesh of aninals and in mineral salts. Being deold of color, it is as a gas invisible, f it were otherwise the atmosphere rould not be the clear and pellucid nedlum that it is for purposes of visan. Nevertheless, it has been made islbie to tne eye, wnen icuu?u m Iquid by Prof. Dewar at a temperaure of 346 degrees below zero of Fahenhelt. Nitric acid, when pure, Is a colorless iquid, and one might easily mistake t for so much water. But It is far rom being inert. It has a strong and lisagreeable smell, burns the skin, nd eats metal?on which account it is ised for etching on steel and copper. Combined with silver in the shape of , salt, it is the "lunar caustic" used by ihysicians, and it is the basis of the ndelibie ink employed by housewives or marking linen. Priestly and Cavendish, so long ago s the year 1785, realized that the atnosphere contained nitrogen enough or the uses of all generations to come, 'hey thought that ultimately a means /ould be found whereby the precious as could be extracted from the air. )f course they were derided as vislonries?the polite word for cranks. But heir dream has come true at last, and It seems to be only a question of a short time when the solid substance will be purchasable in the form of a salt, pressed into bricks or done up in bags. One of the many commercial products obtainable from the new salt is laughing gas. This gas Is made from nitrate of ammonia, which Is obtained by boiling ammonia In nitric acid. The stuff Is bought In granulated form and boiled In a flask, the gas thus obtained passing through water Into a huge rubber bag. By passing through the water It is purlfled, and the patient In hales It through a nozzle from the bag. While Niagara Falls, as has been said, might easily furnish enough solid nitrogen of atmospheric origin to supply the world, any water power, which is always the cheapest source of electrical energy, will serve the purpose. The process being no secret, people everywhere are likely to avail themselves of It, and to manufacture their own nitrogen "bricks" or "flour" for agricultural or other Industrial employment.?Philadelphia Record. THE PARACHUTE MAN. His Feelings as He 8oared 8kyward and Plunged to Earth. "Come on! The band's all ready!" I was met with a roar of applause as I ran down the hotel steps. The band blared in salute and the crowd opened up for me as I hastened. The parachute was stretched out from the straining balloon. As the man with me snapped the hooks on the ring he showed me where the rope hung and told me how to pull it when cutting loose. He was the excited one. I was In a semi-stupor. A bitter indifference filled me as I looked at the ugly swaying monster which was to bear me to affluence or death. "Let her go!" With a cleaving of the air and a rush of sound like the coming of a cyclone the balloon shot upward. I ran for the bar, grasped it and soared. I tried to swing up on the bar, but the rush of the ascent straightened me like an iron rod. I thought my arms would be pulled out. A sickness came * over me, comparable to the effect of the start made by a high speed elevator. Then the motion became more easy and I swung up on the bar. I was accustomed to gazing down from heights and I felt no tear as I stared at the fading crowd. I could see them waving hats and hands; could hear the band playing, and was conscious of a pleasant dreamy sensation and of a steady, easy rising from the ground. I ventured to bend a "crab" and make a few "ankle drops." It was as easy as when I was only a few feet from the ground. I glanced down again. J amnllns and lAAtn* i ne Crowu ay)Raicu Diuiwvi ?v. ed to be walking away from me. I had commenced to drift. Now was the time to cut loose. I wished that I might stay where I was?taking > chances with that limp bag of a parachute did not look safe. But It had to be done. . I caught hold of the rope, braced myself on the bar and gave a short, hard pull. Whish?my breath left me! For the first time fear?deadly fear?entered my heart. A Jerk that nearly unseated me, and I was again sailing pleasantly through space. I ventured to essay a few additional feats, as the ground seemed to more closely approach me, and then I commenced to calculate as to the manner in which to strike the ground. Like many other problems, It settled itself. I struck it feet-first in a cornfield, was dragged along and scratched up and came to consciousness in the arms of my new manager, who was alternately cursing me for getting killed and blessing me for having saved his skin and the $450.?Outing. A Wonderful Bible. "The most beautiful volume among the half million In the Congressional Library at Washington is a Bible which was transcribed by a monk in the sixteenth century," said a gentleman connected with a leading book binding establishment in this city. "It could not be matched today in the best printing office in the world. The parchment is in perfect preservation. Every one of Its thousand pages is a study. The general lettering is in German text, each letter perfect, without a scratch or blot from lid to lid. At the beginning of each chapter the first letter is very large, usually two or three inches long, and Is brightly illuminated in red and blue ink. Within each of these capitals is drawn the figure of some saint, some Incident of which the chapter tells. There are two columns on a page, and nowhere Is traceable the slightest irregularity of line space or formation of the letters. Even under a magnifying glass they seem flawless. This precious volume is kept under a glass case, which is sometimes lifted to show that all the pages are as perfect as the two which lie open. "A legend relates that a young man who had sinned deeply, became a monk and resolved to do penance for his misdeeds. He determined to copy the Bible that he might learn every letter - " J. -klAh ha haH or tne aivine commuuus nuivu ?? violated. Every day for many years he patiently pursued his task. Each letter was wrought In reverence and love, and the patient soul found Its only companionship in the saintly faces which were portrayed on these pages. When the last touch was given to the last letter the old man reverently kissed the page and folded the sheets together. The illustrated initials in perfection of form and brilliancy of color surpass anything produced in the present day. With all our boasted progress nothing in Europe or America equals it."?New York Press. -WProf. Harnack, a widely known and liberal professor of theology In the University of Berlin, has made a collection of the sayings of Christ not contained in the New Testament