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Ilora eomc old Pat her Christmas,
With loaad of fife and drums 1
With nistleto about his brow.
So merrily he coma !
Bis arm an fall of all good cheer,
Hi faoa with laughter glow ;
He thin like any household Or
Amid tba eroel oow.
He is the old folk' Cbristma,
He warm their hearts Uk win,
11a thaw their winter into spring
And makes their face chine.
Dirnb for Father Cbristma!
R'ng all the merry bell !
And bring the grandslrrs all around
To hear tho tale be tells.
Here comes the Cbristma angel,
So gentle and o calir.
A ftoftlyas the falling flake.
He come with Bute and palm,
Alt in a cloud of glory.
As one upon the plain.
To shepherd boy In Jewry
He brines good new again t
He is tbe young folks Christmas $
He mnlcrs their eyes grow bright
With word of hope and tender thought;
And vision of delight.
Hall to the Cbristma angel !
All pence on earth he brings a
Tie gathers all th youths and maids
Secenth his shining wings.
Here romm the little Christ-child,
Alt innocence and joy.
An I bearing gifts in either ba.nl
For every girl and boy.
Hb tells the tender story
About the Holy Maid.
And Jesus In the manger,
Before the oxen laid.
Like any little winter blr J,
He sings this sweetest song,
Till all the cherubs In the sky
To hear His enrol throng ,
He is the children's Christmas t
They come without a call
To gather round the gracious Child
Who brlngeth joy to all.
Eut who hull bring their Christmas
Who wrestle still with life?
No grnndiires, youths, nor little folk!,
But they who wage the strife ;
Tbe fathers and the mother
Who fight lor homes and bread,
. Who watch and ward the living,
And bury all the dead.
Ah ! by their aide at Christmas-tide
Tbe Lord of Christmas stands ;
He smooths the furrows from the brows
With strong and tender hands.
"I take my Christmas gift." be saift,
"From thee, tired loul, rind thee j
Who glveth to My little ones
Giveth unto Me."
A CHRISTMAS STEAK,
N the morning bo-
fore Christmas Day
ten years ago,
when I was living
in the Prickly Penr
miles northwest of
my wife said to me:
"Charley, wouldn't it be nice if we
bad a venison steak, too?"
The "too" meant in addition to a
turkey, a pair of chickens, a boiled
ham, a plum pudding, and I don't
know how many kinds of cakes and
pies that she had planned for our
"Well, Nelly, as there's only your
self and the baby and me to be at
dinner, I don't suppose we'd starve
without a venison steak," I said,
laughing. "But there'll be some fun
getting a black-tailed deer."
So I took my Winchester late in the
forenoon and started for the mountain,
after kissing my young wife and the
baby our first. If Kelly had asked
for an elephant steak, I dnro say I'd
have tried to get one.
She had come out to the far West
with me after I had visited home in
Michigan only two years before, and
my pride was that she should want for
nothing. We had done well from the
start, and so we do yet, thankB be to
God and steady work in season.
The night before I started up the
canon with my rifle and hunting -knife
there had been a fall of about six
inches of snow. This would make it
easy to track game. So I went along
in good spirits, struck the foot of the
mountain two miles from home, and
decided to go up an immense gulch
straight in front of me.
I soon reached the head of the
gulch and the top of the mountain.
Then I turned around on the back
bone of the mountain, and went baok
nearly in the same direotion I had
come, only about a thousand feet
L. i -.1 T i r ...
uiyuer. it was nere i signtea my
game, a fat doe, on the west side of
the backbone, just on the edge of a
gulch. This was ttbout three o'clock
in the afternoon, and the sun was al
The doe had not seen me, and I did
not mean she should till I oould get
close enough to make sure of that
6teak. So I worked over on the east
Bide of the baokbone, and went along
till I got right on top of a slope di
rectly above a great wall of mountain
that I had admired on the way up.
I was then watching for the doe
more than for my steps, and that
oarelessress nearly finished me. Sud
denly my feet slipped, and I went
Bliding down the steep mountain side.
I was not more than fairly on my
bock when I understood what had
happened. I had trod on the old
drifts of snow which had been melted
on the surface by the Chinook winds
a few days previously, and had then
frozen again into a bard slopo of ice.
This was covered by the fresh snow of
tiie night, and so J. aad not noticed
v The fresh snow went with me. I
could not hold on by it at all ; and I
was making a quick trip down. The
slope was about two hundred and
fifty feet long. Where it stopped the
straght wall began. It was about four
hundred feet high. I slewed round
somehow, and vent heel first, then
head first, flat on my back.
Ton may suppose I had not time to
think much on the way down ; but I
air a great deal. I aaw Kelly and the
baby all alone in the house wating for
me. I aaw what I ihonld look like
after falling four hundred feet on
boulder. I aaw Nelly's people a thou
sand mile away and more, and she
with the baby m her arms and with
out ten dollar in the bureau drawer
hoping many a day and night for the
bundle at the cliffs foot to walk in
alive. It was had to see all that and
feel myself sliding to destruction.
As I slewed round second time,
and found myself going down on my
back, feet first, I lifted my head and
saw a stunted pine close ahead. My
Winchester was still in my right hand ;
somehow I had clutched it by the
muzzle. In a flash I threw out my
hand, hoping to fling the gun around
the little pine and stop myself ; but
the hammer of tbe gun struck the
pine, and the charge was fired into
The bullet plowed through the mus
cles of my forearm, made a flesh
wound in my right side, and cut away
my cartridge belt.
I had slid about one hundred and
fifty feet when this happened. The
shock of the noise and the bullet
stunned me, I suppose, for the next
thing I knew was that I lay in a clump
of small bushes.
The sun had gone down, but there
was still a clear afterglow when I came
to my full wits, in surprise to find
myself alive. For an instant I won
dered if I had dropped over the cliff.
THE OLD DAYS.
Santa Claus "It does me good to find one of these big old-fashioned
chimneys that a fellow can drop into without squeezing through narrow flues
and grates till one's ribs are almost cracked. On, for the good old days when
every chimney was a temptation to me. "
I tried to rise, and in doing so looked
through the bushes.
There was nothing just in front of
them. They grew on the cliff's top
for about twelve feet wide along its
very edge. I had nothing but these
frail buBhes between me and the
boulders far below.
Seeing thie, I trembled and crouched
down. Then I noticed the blood
from my wounded arm. It was drip
ping to the snow at the roots of the
bushes, and my movements had already
sprinkled many red spots around.
I lay a long time in the snow, keep
ing my right side to the bushes, for I
feared that I should go through if I
lay uphill and pressed against them
with only the breadth of my feet.
Then I lifted up my wounded arm,
hoping to stop the flow of red. Per
haps the loss of blood had helped to
break down my nerves. At any rate,
I shuddered and Bhook, and thought I
was about to faint. It seemed a great
time before I could oontrol myself
sufficiently to seek for some means of
But I did not look down over the
cliff. It seemed that one more sight
of that abyss would lure me to jump
over in despair. I looked up the
The track I had made was as if a
very wide broom had swept snow off
hard, white ice. But I reflected that
this was only a thin sheet of ice cover
ing deep snow. I could not break
through the slippery crust with hand
or foot ; but I might cut holes in it
with ' my pocket-knife, and climb by
So I put my hand in my pocket to
search for the knife. It was not there.
It was not in any of my pockets. I
suppose it had slipped out during my
For a moment hope went out of me.
Then it sprang up fresh. My hunt
ing knife I How could I have forgot
ten it? i put my hand to the
sheath. The sheath was empty 1
'Now it seemed certain that I muBt
die ; so certain that the raving spirit
of protest was stilled in my heart.
resigned myself to God. There was
nothing to do except go mad or acoept
my fate, and to accept is to be calm,
I think I then had the very feeling
with which so many of the dying turn
their faces silently to the wall when
told that death is near. Evening had
new come on.
To the bushes I turned my face, let
ting my wonderful arm whioh pained
me little, come to the snow. With that
movement of resignation my thoughts
flew again distinctly to my wife and
child ; it was as if my soul sought com'
mnnioa with them for th end. Then
the question as to how I should be
found set me again to trouble.
I was lying on place seldom seen
by any hunter on the mountain. If I
should remain there my bones would
bleach perhaps for yesrs nnfound.
Only the foxes and the carrion birds
would visit them. They might in ft
season be overgrown by the bushes,
and hidden forever from mortal eye.
I pictured the agony of my wife
waiting in uncertainty. The shock-1
ing thought that some wicked person
might persuade her that I had de
serted her came into my brain.
Would it not be merciful to her to
rush through or to one side of the
bushes and fall over the precipice?
Below there on the boulders my body
might soon be seen by some hunter,
and C9rtaiuly my clothing and bones
would be found in the spring or
sooner. Bat what of Ood? In His
sight should I be guilty of suicide if I
rnticipated by but a little what seemed
I half-rose in this new agony and
put my right hand among the bushes,
meaning to lean and peer over the
cliff. Now the moon was clear. My
hand struck something hard. With a
loud cry of joy I found it was clutch
ing my hunting-knife! This had
slipped out of its sheath during my
sliding, and lodged among the bushes.
"Praise God from Whom all bles
sings flow !" My heart wag mightly
cheered with the sense that He had
not forsaken me. As I turned to the
steep slide, and began hacking out
holes for climbing I had little thought
of how small was still my chance of
But I was very careful, working
there in the moonlight. Should my
knife slip from my hand it would
hardly be stopped again by the fringe
of bushes. Should hands and feet
fail of their hold on the slope I might
slide aside from the fringe, and go
over to death.
I picked and dug till I had three
pairs of holes extending as far up as I
could teach. . Then, when I had
moved my feet into tho lowest of these
holes, and was cutting n fourth pair
at my full reach, my new strength left
me suddenly. There I rested, face
down, for many moments.
Again I set to work ; again I drew
myself up ; on I went far , as my
strength would allow ; and again ex
hausted forced me to rest. But now
I was up twenty-five or thirty feet
from the clump of bushes, and the
fear that I might slip, slide down and
miss them in sliding became extreme
horror. I could not endure this.
Very cautiously I let myself down
again till I lay once more among the
The tale would be long to tell how
1 went up again and again, each time
gaining a short distance and each time
compelled to descend by the fear of
losing my grip or fainting and sliding
aside from the bushes. My weakness,
probably from loss of blood, was such
as I cannot describe to tho under
standing of one who has never felt
like this. My limbs trembled as with
an ague. And all this time I had to
work with and place my main depend
ence on my awkward, unwounded left
hand and arm.
After a long time I reached the
stunted pine against which my Win
chester had been exploded in my de
scent. Then I rested, straddling the
tree, holding my arms around it and
toward the cliff. Now the moon was
often obscured by clouds, a strong
wind had risen, and I expected a regu
lar Montana blizzard. But it proved
to be only a squall, and again I turned
to my work.
To let go of the tree and turn round
safely put me to agony of doubt, but
I did it and lay trembling, face down,
with my feet against the tree, till I
found strength to hack and dig again,
I can remember little of what I did
after that, till at last I drew myself
up and lay on top of the mountain.
For some time I coul.l not move,
and when I did stand up I doubted
whether I had strength to escape, af
ter all. My steps were feeble and my
brain reeled. But still I staggered on
toward Nelly and the baby. It was
not till I had passed almost te the
foot of the mountain, keeping always
in my morning tracks, that I sank
down end found myself unable to
Then Kelly came. That brave little
wife of mine had actually left the baby
sleeping end set out all alone across
the snow in the moonlight to track
me. She had eome two miles. She
bad begun to elimb the mountain,
when I saw her 'suddenly bnt ft few
The bottle of tea she carried
wrapped in s cloth was still warm
when she knelt beside me, and it
roused me quickly to some strength.
Certainly she saved my life, for I
could not have risen again, and should
have been frozen to death but for her
bravery. How we got home to the
baby is story I need not dwell on.
What Kelly did with all that Christ
mas dinner I do not know, for I was
sick and senseless for more than two
weeks. But in the end I was as well
as before, except that 1 had paid a
good Winchester and a belt of car
tridges for a venison steak that the
fat blaok-tailed doe continued to
carry where it grew. Youth's Com
panion. The Christmas "Pound."
Two old Christmas customs that are
still observed to a considerable extent
in certain parts of England are those
of the "yule dow," or in modern par
lance "dough," and the "Christmas
pound." The former is a small cake
baked in the form of a little baby and
intended to represent the infant Jesus.
It was customary a century ago for
English bakers to present one of these
"yule dows" to every customer, but
this gift is now made only to children.
The "Christmas pound" consists of
a pound or half pound of raisins or
currants which grocers present to
their regular patrons for a Christmas
pudding. The latter custom is now
principally confined to the town of
Bipon, in Yorkshire.
Though the term "Christmas box"
is not applied in America as it is in
England to the gratuities which are
exDected and even demanded at the
Christmas season by the letter-carrier,
the milkman, the butcher's boy, the
district messenger and other, equally
useful and indispensable members of
society, yet the cuotom of giving them
has come to be nearly as general in
the one country as in the other.
With us these donations are usually
expected before Christmas, or on the
morning of that day at tbe latest, but
in England they are not levied until
the following day December 26.
Then all who expected them go about
and collect them in person, and from
this collection of "Christmas boxes"
the day after Christmas is known as
"boxing day" and its night as "box
ing night. "
The origin of the term "Christmas
box" as applied to donations of Christ
mas spending money is uncertain,
though antiquarians generally seem
to think that it was derived from the
custom of placing money for masses to
be said or sung on Christmas Day
therefore "Christ-massss" in a box,
which from this use was called a Christ
mass box, a term gradually corrupted
to Christmas box, and finally applied
to all money given as a Christmas gra
On Christmas Day, though the tur
key's tender, the eaters stuff.
Christmas dinner at home, no mat
ter how meagre, is preferable to
Christmas lunch in the bar-room.
A nice easy exercise for Christmas
Day is that of counting the change
you have left. It can be done gen
erally with one hand.
If the "heft" of the pooketbook
was, in every instance, commensurate
with the promptings of the heart, what
a glorious Christmas it would be for
Now is the accepted time for the re
launching of that eld yule-tide "chest
nut," "What is the difference between
this umbrella and the 25th of last De
cember?" "One is a Christmas pres
ent and tho other is a Christmas past."
An Exhausting Task.
Alpha "I see that your friend
Bondsby has sailed for Europe. What
is the object of his visit?"
Omega "He goes to recuperate his
health, which is broken down by over
Alpha "Overwork? Why, I never
knew him to do a day's work in his
Omega "You don't know all. One
day last week he went out to select a
Christmas present for his wife, and he
came home suffering from- nervous
On Christinas Eve.
"Darling 1" exclaimed Algernon
Thinshanks, as they sat in the soft
firelight glow on Christmas Eve, "I
sometimes wish 1 had lived in the dis
tant past, in the days of baronial
halls, and feudal castles, and armored
knights. There is a romance about
the delightful past which the prosaic
present cannot awaken. Which do you
like best, dearest, the past or the pres
ent?" "At this time of the year, Algernon,
the present, by all means "responded
Mabel, promptly. ,
The new Australian gold fields ap'
parently are worked under the same
difficulties as those of Arizona an al
most constant water famine.
The old "Shepherd's Kale n lar" ha
this much to say about Christmas
weather : "If the snn shine clear and
bright on Christmas Day it promiseth
peaceable year from clamors and
strife, and fortcll much plenty to en
sue; bnt if the wind blow stormy to
ward sunset, it betokeneth sickness in
the spring and autumn quarters."
Two French proverbs may fitly close
this bundle of weather sayings:
Christmas on the balcony
Easter near th Ore-brands.
At Christmas, the gnats ;
At Easter, tbe Icebergs,
The popular mind could not fail to
fix upon this day some predictions
concerning births :
Commencing with Sunday, wo are
What child that day born may be,
A great lord he (hall live to be.
With Christmas on Monday :
They that be born that day I mean,
They shall be strong each one and keen.
Of Tuesday it is said :
They shall be strong and covetous.
Wednesday is a lucky day :
Whatever child that day born is,
. He shall be doughty ant gay, I wis,
And wise and crafty also of dead,
And find many in clothes and bread.
Not less fortunate is the child who is
born on Christmas when it falls upon
If a child that day born shall be,
It shall happen right well tor thee ;
Of deeds he shall be good nnd s.alile;
Wise of speeoa and reasonable.
'The influence of Venus or Freya is
seen te extend to tbe infant who first
sees the light on Friday's Christmas '
The child that is born that dny
Shall live long and leoherous be alway.
Saturday, again, is malignant :
And ehlldren born that day by faith,
In half a year shall meet with death.
At present it is said in Lincolnshire,
England, that the child born on Christ
mas will be able to see spirits, an as
sertion elsewhere made on Sunday.
Deaths on this day are sometimes
thought to be ominous. In Somerset
shire, England, it is said that a death
during Christmastide is a token of
many deaths throughont that year in
"But mistletoe English mistleto e?
Surely that will never lose its hold !"
some reader may exclaim.
Not in name, perhaps, but in sub
stance. For yon must know, real
English mistletoe is as rare in this
country as a white blackbird; and
that so called by florists, and supposed
to possess all the properties with whioh
the black-art of the Middle Ages en
dowed the mystic parasite because
grown on British soil, comes princi
pally from Normandy, where it flour
ishes in such mad profussion as to be
a veritable nuisance, while it has so
embraced and strangled the road-side
poplar trees that the French Govern
ment has ordered it to be entirely de
stroyed. If this edict is carried into
effect, we shall see very little of the
true mistletoe (Viscum album), but
will have to content ourselves with its
American cousin, the Phoradendron
flaveseens, which abounds in some of
the Southern States, is really far pret
tier, and bears more berries, but lacks
the romantic associations clustered
about the "All-heal" of the old Druids.
We may venture to predict, however,
that so long as there are merry hearts
and fond-lovers on the earth, some
sort of mistletoe, ancient or modern,
will be hung up on each recurriug
December ; for, as a sweet poetres3 of
"Under the mistletoe peaoo and good will
Mingle the spirits that long have been
Leaves of tho olive-branch twine with it still,
While breathings of hope 11 11 the long carol
Yet, why should this holy and festival mirth
In the reign of old Christmas-tide only be
Hung up love's mistletoe over the earth,
And lot uskiss underit nil the year round."
The Festivity Sot Yet Complete. ,
Tommy "Come on out an' play."
Eddy "I can't."
Tommy "Why not?"
Eddy "Igotsome Christmas things
wot I ain't broke yet."
It is figured that every man, woman
and child in the United States eats an
average of four and a half bushels of
wheat in a year in tho form of bread
or breakfast cereals.
To Santa Claus.
We wish you a Merry Christmas,
Old Santa Claus so true ;
If you'll hang up a stocking
We'll AH it full for you.
We'll put (n fond affection,
And kisses by the score,
Together with devotion,
What could you ask lor more?
TVOMEX TOOK PART IX THE,
ELECTION IH COLORADO.
They Kot Only Vote Themselves,
Bat Insisted Upo the Me
Voting-Scene at tiie
TTffTfiMT'V.nWI . .11
didates at the recent elec
tion in Colorado. A
Denver letter to the New
York Sun describe the scenes ,nd in
cidents on Election Day as follows:
The total vote in Colorado was in
round numbers 156,000 this year. Two
years ago it was 93,000, although 1892
was a Presidential year and there was
a strong desire to male a a. at&nl tnr
the silver eanse. Furthermore, times
were good in 1S92, and the mining
districts were more populous than at
this election. The phenomenal in
crease in votes over two years, ago
does not indicate an increase in popu
lation in Colorado. Facts disprove
that. The women voted to fully
ninety per cent of their registration,
and their enthusiasm was reflected in
waiting: theib turn at the folia
the awakened interest taken by the
All over the State on the eve of Elec
tion Day the women went to bed early
with one prominent thought in their
minds. They would go to the polls
on the morrow ; they would go early
for fear that some unforeseen ciroum
stance might rob them of the oppor
tunity to vote. This sentiment was
shared by the men, who took rather a
humorous interest in the experiment.
Had it not been for the interest taken
by the women of the household many
men would not have bothered about
voting at all, to say nothing of getting
out early to vote.
In Denver by half-past 6 o'clock in
the morning every voting precinct,
from Capitol Hill to the Platte Biver
bottoms, presented an interesting
spectacle. Men and women of all
sorts and conditions had assembled
to await the opening of the polls at 7
o'clock. The air was crisp at that
hour, but the workingman was used
to the chill of early morning, their
wives and daughters, wrapped in
shawls and cloaks of rather anti
quated style, were unmindful of the
cool air, while the Jate risers of the
fashionable districts for once realized
the beauty of an early morning in
Colorado. D. E. Moffatt, President
of the First National Bank and one of
the wealthiest men in Colorado, was
IN THE VOTING BOOTH.
out with his wife before the polls
opened and stood iu line with the day
laborer awaiting his turn to vote. In
many instances a family of several
voters, including the servants, went
in a body to the polls.
Few women had to go to the polls
nnattended. The went to the voting
booths as they would go to the theatre
or church with escorts. Often one
man would have several women tinder
his charge. The utmost good humor
and good order prevailed. In the
bright sunlight of the early morning
the long lines of men and women were
a curious study. Everybody was
UBS. H. B. STEVENS.
MaBTSA a. pease.
Prominent Women Suffragists.
chatting informally with his neigh
bor, not of the issues of the day nor
with an idea of influencing votes, but
of the breakfast yet untasted, or of
the unique experience which each was
enjoying. A mounted police officer
appearing would be chaffed and told
to go elsewhere to find discord and
The lines for the first two or three
hours contained from 100 to 200 vot
ers, but by 11 o'clock the rush was
ended, and then during the remaining
hours the polls were praotioally de
serted. An occasional voter would
drop in, cast his, ballot, and depart as
quietly as he had come. Women in
pairs and in small parties would enter
the booths, prepare their ballots, de
posit them in the boxes, and go with
out a word. There was a general ex
pression of satisfaction on their faces.
The women were more expeditions
' ' '
in voting than were the men. They;
voted straight ballots, which required
the placing of single "X" alongside
the party emblem. The men were
slower end more deliberate. In one
precinct twenty-six votes were oast in
twenty minutes, of which seventeen;
were by women. The average in many
precincts was one minnte. Never
was so much straight-ticket Toting
done. Few ballots were spoiled, end
the reports of the election judges in
dicate that more men had to be assist
ed to vote than women. Yet in the
counting only very small percent
age of errors was discovered. One
vote showed that the voter, evidently,
woman, had voted for every candi
date on every ticket by placing an X
in every space. A few had placed the
cross opposite the name of the candi
date for Governor instead of the
designated place, beside the party em
blem. Women in Denver were unusually
well prepared for Election Day, for
they had been playing at eleotion for
weeks. In almost every precinct
mock elections had been conducted, i
Sample ballots were used, and all the
accessories of judges, clerks and chal
lengers were employed. Many women
voted again and again until they were
thoroughly familiar with the Austra
lian ballot, which in Colorado is
rather complicated affair. Intelli
gent people learned how to vote s
suratohed ballot properly, and many
did so, though the majority of ballots
in every precinct were straight party
The remarkable feature of early vot
ing was observed all over the State.
In Cripple Creek, especially, the early
morning lines were very long. In
mining camps and in quiet couutry
precincts the wemen turned out early
and generally with escorts. There, as
in Denver, the desire of the women to
vote induced the men to go to the
polls quite generally. That more
women voted in Colorado than men
would be an absurd statement. Nor
can it be said that the percentage of
female voters exceeded that of the
males, but the undisputed fact re
mains that this time the women thor
oughly aroused the men and caused
them to cast a heavier vote every
where than heretofore.
As the Election Day waned the wo
men and business men ttirred them
selves to draw in the few stragglers.
Women in coupes and in open buggies
rode from house to house insisting
that the laggards must come out. In
one precinct in the residence ' district
of Capitol Hill only two registered
voters failed to vote. The sick were'
utuiieu iu uie punts; mo ousy man
was hunted out and persuaded to take
time to vote. In several instanoes
women made repeated visits until they
had forced the indifferent to the
-' 1 l Al - n . 1 1
One old lady had declared upon,
hearing the news that women had re
ceived the franohise that she hoped!
she might die before one of hen
daughters disgraced her by going to
the polls. As the campaign progressed'
she became interested to that, as ft
consequence, she was among the early,
voters at the polls on Election Dav.i
and cast her ballot before her daugh
ters did. The sentiment in favor of
woman suffrage grew by reason of the
general interest in the election. It
was a growth from above to below.'
rm.. i t. lw, Qti
the matter first, and then the igno
rant, the indifferent and those who
had opposed .woman suffrage were
compelled to acknowledge that the
act of voting did not degrade woman
in the slightest degree.
An interesting device for photo
graphing meteors has recently been,
placed in the Yale University Observa
tory. It consists of an inclined shaft
carrying a number of cameras so in-'
olined as to inolude in their combined
field a large area of sky. The shaft is
turned by clookwork so as to follow
the motion of the stars and make their
images appear as points instead of
lines, as would be the oase if the ca
meras were fixed. With this arrange
ment the paths of the meteors are
shown in their true relation to the
heavenly bodies and their direction at
once determined. The instrument is
exceedingly useful in discovering the
"radiant points" of meteors the spots
in the sky from whioh they start. -Detroit
Illinois railroads employed in 1893
66.680 hands, whose wages amounted
I to (10,072,676,