X

GAPE MAY HERALD.

AH INDEPENOCNT WEEKLY.

lajr J at 506 Washington Street, Cape May, N. J.

M. i SCULL, - NMtttr Hi PnfrMir.

Eatarad at till poet offles at Capa May, K. i., aa aeooai-olaae matter, March 11th, 1901.

Paris leads the world In dreasmakIn*. It Is eatimatad that there are 75,toe persons employed In the dreesmaking establishments of the city, and If one includaa the workers who design and make the materials used by ( the dressmakers, about 1.400,000 persona are engaged in the struggle to satisfy woman's love of chiffons.

Italy is now sending more emigrants to the United State* than any other country: Austro-Hungary next and Russia third. The percentage of the total number of Immigrants from these three countries. In the order named, K 27.9. 23.2 and 17.4. Germany sent 21.7 percent In 1882, but now it sends only 4.4 percent England sent 10.4 percent in 1882; now It sends only 2.S

Of the population at the United States 47.1 percent lire in Incorporated municipalities, of which there are 10.(02 in the country. Of these, however. (S19 have a population of less than 1000 and are really rural communities. The states differ greatly in their policy with regard to permitting small towns to Incorporate. MassachusetU, for example, has but 38 Incorporated towns, whilt Delaware, with only one-llf-teenth of the population of Massachusetts. has 35. Illinois beads the list with 930 incorporated mnnlclpalltl' California has 116.

A locomotive on an English railroad, built In 1870, has Just completed 4,000,000 miles of service, breaking the record. But no company in the United States wonld be willing to confess that It was using locomotives built 30 yean ago. A high speed engine here makes about 100.000 miles a year. Before 20 yean have passed it Is out of date and is replaced with one with modern improvements. English pride in the present performances of locomotives 30 yean old tends to account for the supremacy of American locomotives throughout the world, and for the fact that English colonies prefer them to the English machines.

It seems highly improbable that rice will ever be regarded as a very Important food staple fa the United States or In many of the countries of Europe, remarks the New York Sun. The most sign I Scant fact In relation to breadstuffs in all countries where wheat Is important either as a product or as import is the npld Increase In the number of wheat eaten. Wo are the greatest malre growing country In the world, and we appreciate highly the value of maize for human food, but our consumption ot the grain as a breadstuff Is Insignificant in comparison with oar consumption of wheat. It has often bees said in recent yean that the opening of every new railroad in western countries Increases the sumber of wheat eaten. The estimate la 1871 that the wheat eaten of the world numbered 371,000.000 has steadily Increased for later yean, and three yean ago attainable data seemed to show that wheat was the breed staple

ot 616,000,000 souls.

This unusually good example of the retort courteous comes from a German source: A distinguished traveler tattered the railroad restaurant at Castel. and waited patiently for his time to be served. Study of the bill of fare showed nothing appetizing. The waiter was taken Into counsel and recommended. with enthusiasm, dish after dish, only to meet a shake ot the head, and finally the discouraging answer: "Only thatr Wounded in his professional pride the waiter expostulated: "Pardon as. sir, but I have served the best people her*, and they were satisfied with oar bill of tan; yoa should be so. too." The stranger his tarn answered: "But do you know Who I am and to whom yoa are talking T“ “No,” said the waiter. “9 than, I am the Prises of Bnlgni "Only thatr said the wetter pro* ly. And the anecdote ceaetedee i

CHAPTER XL

It was evening, an exquisite with such fi sky ss my English

irver caved upon. Ray tood leaning over the hale

ngers at K!< imeuls on all

balcony of the 1 Florence, makl

ulng.

eycB had ” \"He-

at ood leaning tel dee Etrai ughinc comm t the furtha

couch, covered with a rug of many ci knd Aunt Rosalie was calmly studying

ing by.

was

the pa&aers-by is the hotel gardens

thre

trough an opera glass.

They are very beautiful gardens—those of the Hotel dee Ktrangera—and that bight a melodious band was playing tealed somewhere under the brana

sitting at little ti

king

trees. People were sitting at little tables, drinking chocolate and eating sweets. Dreamily 1 listened to the wait* the band was playing. 1 became loait in a reverie \f bygone days. Rayvenbom's voice roused me. "What or whom it Aunt Rosalie itaring at a«> persistently? She bus lowered her lorgnette, anal has remained, her chin resting on her band, her ayes immovably fixed, for the past teh .ninnies.” This remark was made aloud, for the purpose of attracting Mias Carew's atten-

tion. She sinned and laughed. looking,'' ahe said, “at the very

without exception, that

that tree—look.

"I

ham)

idsomcat man. w

I looked. I saw a tall, broad man, well, but not conspicuously well dressed, with a bead of golden hair, a rather pala face xml a long gulden mustache. The pose of his bead, as he read his paper, was certainly singularly graceful. My heart gave one throb and then seemed to stand stilL At first I only thought h a delation, but a second look told me that I could not be kiiataken—the stranger was Victor Burn-

Jide.

It was Incky that no one’s attention was centered on me just then, for I looked. as I felt, dreadfully agitated. I could not mect him face to face—I. who alwayv

” on my courage, cxp« it the sight of him.

eL But. oh, joy! we were row. and the chances that t before then were very

art

priced myself on my courage, experienced

actual terror'at the sight of ‘' in oor very hotel. But. oh,

to leave to-m we wonld m

"He is a splendid looking man.” said Rayvcnham; "and he's English. I think I'll go down and have a weed, and make friends with him.” “No, Rayvcnham. you're too late, bo’« moving," aaid Annt Rose, aa the English man slowly roused himself from his lean.ing attitude against the tree, and folded

his paper.

He looked round ns tbongh half undecided what to do. Though the idea that be wonld recognise me was preposterous. I shrank in terror from meeting his eye. All next morning I was on thorns lest we sbonld encounter that tall, terrible, bodily reminder of my childish error and crime. But we never saw him. We drove to the railway station and took our seats In the train. Then, because Ray and 1 were such babies, we must needs go and buy a store of colored sugar plums from a swarthy Italian peaaant who stood at a little distance on the platform. After

icb wc sauntered back to t Idenly I noticed that, as I ’

platform, I had di

hand bag. containing i

deal more money

carriage,

walked alone

little

ly parse and a . than a sensible

would hare carried about with

I Jumped out, unseen by Rayvenham. i ran to pick It up.' It was gone. Glnnc round in despair, I saw it In the handi official, and, with a glad cry, ran im it. At this moment the whl

claim

sounded. The train - np the length

moving. I ran franticalof the platform, and had

door when my moment a pair e from behind, tr aaid, “Are you

> caught me » In my ear i

and a deep voice

madr

“Let me go!" I cried, eagerly; “I mast —" But the train was already out of

mlng frantically. "Now what am I to do?” ■Telegraph," said my rescuer at once, ind in very good English. I come to my rases at sound of that vole*. Lifting my yes for the first time, I saw that I waa addressing no Italian official. The man who had just saved my Ufa was Victor

Burnside.

I reins ined staring In his face for one long minute, and then dropped my eyes in burning shame. His look of non-rec-ognition was so evident, so entire. It was thus I met the man whose life I had

bis first act waa to save mi I blushed as I never remembered blushlag In my life before, and tremuloualy

faltered:

“I beg your pardon—I believe you saved my Ufa—I am much indebted to you." aU." he ai

btly raising bis hat as he only too glad that 1 was _. fees that I experienced a i shock when I saw yon Hip: 1 thought you were down between the train'and the platform." He was evidently studying me as he spoke, with Interest I certainly looked what I woe—the spoiled darling of wealthy parents. f ■ “Now. win you dictate a me. or will you come to the

met Mr. Burnside, who kindly to take core of me.”"

“Ok. Mr. Burnside," 1 sold, white twa tsars I could not keep back overran my eyelids and toy on nv ehsohs; "da yws not

uire me? 1 must send off your message, or It will be too late. I suppose It Is to

Mr, Cars we?"

I bowed my head—I could not answer. He was gone. I am sure be absented himself a purposely long time with the kind Intention of giving me time to rv-

When he returned 1 was

When he retui

ralnn

'We have half an hour to wi

s as b

is so dose

. fait,” be

said, his voice Just as courteous as before

ifcsslon. This

jver myself. mslderably t

“We have I .

jhst os e

my confession. "This station

and hot—come tbia way.”

I followed him through a aide gate into a small, sweet garden, with an oleander In it, and a cage bunging from an acacia bough, with a pretty green parrot therein. Thgrpjva* a rustic scat just In the shade, and Mr. Mnrnsiae ptaceu a snawi on it

and made me sit down.

I could talk to him more freely now. since he seemed to nourish no displeasure agomst me. Then wc were rather silent until a whistle warned us that the train was about to start, and we rose and went to find place*. When we were sected. and already on onr way. it first occurred to me to oak, "Where did you send your tele-

gram?”

"To the Hotel Blanehn," he answered: “one of the oltH-iats told me that all Mr. Carewe's luggage was directed there." “Oh. thank you, that was quite right. I—you—are you going to take" me all the

way 7”

"Such was my intention, if you will permit." "Oh, yea—you are very good: I should like to introduce you to my grandfather;" and hereupon I related bow grandpapa and I met in the hunting field, and bow the reconciliation came about. He listened, apparently much amused, and in turn told roe all I wanted to know about liuruaide. I learned that my grandmother was very'failing and ill, and that Uncle Rcmy had not been an inmate of Burnside for the last five years. After Alicia Lyndon had married Sir George Lascelles Herrey, Remy had gone to Monte Carlo, where he bad married a rich widow. The union, however, lasted only two years when, probably because both bad gambled away their money, there was a judicial separation. I.nut year Mr. Burnside had receirant and had then he had time the train had arrived at stion and in an instant n frantic onslaught was made upon the carriage by grandpapa and Rayvenham. and I was almost smothered in the embrace of the

former.

•‘Grandpapa." I gasped, disengaging myself. "I am quite safe, and very sorry for giving you such a fright. And wasn't It strange that I should meet such an old friend? Mr. Burnside! Mr. Carewe!" Needless to say, we all repaired together to the Hotel Biancha, where, after waiting to watch Annt Bose's expression when her hero was Introduced to her In the flesh. I was glad to slip away to rest, and resign myself to Marianne to be brushed, robed, petted and scolded In s

breath.

CHAPTER XIL

It was a large room, flooded with s shine, into which we walked t

year Mr. Burnsl ed word that Remy was In wai sent him a remittance. Since " heard nothing from him. By this time the train

our dcxtinatii tic onslaught

shine. Into which we walked together. Four long windows opened into a cool and shaded veranda. Curtains of primrosecolored Liberty silk swayed languidly to

nimated con versa-

company were grouped. Victor Burnside was the first I saw. He was rearing bis tall form by mother’s chair; and her checks were flushing with pleasure as she spoke to him and made friends. My grandfather was reading a newspaper. There was a stranger present Annt Rosalie, ail unheeding the Victor whom she had so admired only yesterday evening, was standing in the window, bolding an anil tlon with s tall and very He was exceedingly graceful, tnongn ne looked too slender when contrasted with Mr. Burnside's massive proportions. HU features were aquiline, bis eyes a deep, melancholy brown, particularly expres-

sive.

I advanced. The stranger was looking straight at me; but in hU beautiful, mournful eyes was no trace of the “fulllength mirror effect" The chief impreesion tfisr gave was one of fathomless ThU U onr Olga.” said my grandfather, as he rose, and passed hU arm over my neck, drawing me gently forward. “Let me Introduce yon formally. My_ granddaughter, Mias Olga Damien—Lord Egerton." So this was Lord Egerton, of whom I bad heard so much! The mysterious master of Valleyfordl Sorely they had told ms he was blind? 1 gased np aerntiuitingly, as be smiled slightly and bowed. It seemed Impossible to believe those eyes sight lees. I noticed tbat be slightly inclined hU head, as if to catch every accent of the first words he sbonld hear me speak, which fact made me a little tremulous as 1 observ ed that the chief things I wUbed to see were the "Dying Gladiator," and Raphael's “Bt. Michael and the Dragon." HU face lighted op. "Ah! you hare a great deal before you,” he said, eagerly. “I envy you. Miss Damira. How long do you propose staying In Roms?" "I can't tell—ask grand papa." I answered. "She may stay os long as she like*." said grandpapa, fondly stroking my hair. - ' - '

Himself, yet so altered that It seemed unnatural, as though the beautiful lace 1 knew had become the dwelling place ot eome mocking fiend, and was fraught with bad designs against me. 1 sprang np, recoiled a few paces, and thru said. "Uncle Remy." He laid n linger on his lips. "HUt," be said. In a hixslng whisper, which sounded to uu- like the utterance of a snake turned Into a man. "Hist. What! Afraid of we?" “So for from bring afraid," I said, “I am going to greet yon after so long an absence. How do yon do, Uncle Remy?" So saying. I came a few steps toward hiss, my hand outstretched. For a moment he looked uncertain, doubting what to do; then laid both hands on the reck, as if to vault over me. I was rather uneasy at this movement, but I stood atin, determined that no motion of mine ahonld show fear of any kind; when, on a sudden, to my extreme surprise, he paused, an altered look passed over his fraturee, and in an instant he had dropped behind the wall and disappeared as suddenly and silently as a water rat slips into tha still waters of the mere. He was gone. Almost st the same Instant 1 became conscious of a step liehlnd me, and swiftly turning backward saw ths tall figure and uncovered head of Victor Burnsids looking, in his evening dress, quaintly out of keeping with his surroundings. "What in the world induced rou te mount to such an inaccessible spot?" be

began.

1 grasped bis hand spasmodically. "Go —look behind tbat piece of wall,” I said law and hurriedly. "Ha Is there—Uncle Remy—I eaw him." Thest^nly elapsed those few seconds, just long chough for question and reply; he was brbljid the wall in an instant. It was n part of the ruins evidently considered inaccessible, for grass and varioox flowers grew In profusion. There was ne l>erceptible way of getting down, above was a sheer, high wall "Did 1 understand Damien?

here?"

"Vos, I

am convinced of it,” I answered "I could not be mistaken. I plainly as 1 see you; besides, he

means of a. rope, and afterward slipped /the loop off the stone. I don't see how \Remy could possibly be in Rome st this minute, and I can't Imagine bow or why he. should be in this exact portion of ths .Coliseum at midnight, least of all, with appliances to enable him to drop down a -precipice at a moment’s notice. Fur-tbefc-Jl don't see why he should havs shown himself to you. yet vanished os

hearing my footstep#."

It certainly, when summed np thus, did appear absurdly Impossible. I advanced one* more to the mysterious snot. It sras

so lonely, ao nodi slumbered on the ruins so white and still —that 1 began to doubt the evidence of I am generally rather sure-footed, but I think my adventnre of that night had unnerved me. for In descending the rathe* precipitous tiers my foot slipped. Mr. Burnside was just behind me, bolding my hand, and watching with the utmost caution aa I went.- The moment I slipped his arm went around me. 1 believe I might have been severely hurt; but. caught back by that muscular arm. I was perfectly safe. I had entirely lost my footing, and was obliged to fall right back upon him, aad, just for perhaps two seconds, my bead rested on that heart which, os' a child, I had sought to pierce. I conM bear its quick, loud beating; and, thrilled tbrongb by a strange, new feeling, utterly

different from anything I bad

rienced before, 1 started upright, and, resting my hands on bis shoulders, regained my footing with a struggle. The whole

m," 1 said, is s

rmy foot

thing-was

"I bog y'onr pardon,'

"It U all right," he answered. In the

same subdued accents.

A sadden silence seemed to fall between ns after that—neither of ns knew why, but neither spoke a single word nntil we were once more on tbs ground, and had joined the rest of the party.

(to 8* CONTIKVSD.)

POORLY PAID SOLDIERS. Britishers Who Served la Sooth Atria Are Complaining. One occasionally hears Englishmen boasting that they belong to the richeat nation under heaven, writes a London correspondept. The boast is not s particularly pretty one, and It is not particularly wise, because for a rich nation it does some uncommonly mean things. Among the meanest must be classed the way In which it pays its soldiers. The war office has been heaping up,wrath and indignation against itself for s long time, bnt it has not done anything lately to stir the nation's blood like 1U treatment of the Imperial Yeomanry In the matter of their pay. These men went out to South Africa on the understanding that they would be away a year. They were promised in eome cases that their, situations would be held vacant for them a year. The war office kept them In South Africa for about eighteen months, and now some of the men have come home to find out that their situations are no longer waiting for them, and that the money which haa been earned at the risk of their liras, and would come in most useful while they are looking for work, cannot be eqaeexed out ot a reluctant state.

leereeae In Kcratbern Lumber Situs. In 1880 the southern lumber mills had an output valued at 133,116.000. In ten years thU bad advanced to *106^75.819. Since then there has

SMALL FARMS IN CUBA. AGRICULTURE HAS MADE PROGRESS SINCE THE WAR.

IH vers I Aral I oa of Imla.trr fraitucas BatUfartorr Uaaulls - Amarlcaea Kagagad la Warklag tha Nell - Tba Irrlgaflag I>IUhae Xestarad—Walt-io- i»® Karmers. It la one of the common mistakes that Cuba h good to raise only sugar and tobacco, write* a correspondent of the New York Tribune. Leaving out tbe culture of fruits, which is going to take front rank In Its agricultural industry In Ihe near future, there Is a further variation in production. Gulnee Is the district of small farms sad small farming. They raise crops not only for local consumption, but for export to the United States. No ■ection of the Island gives a better chance to study the prospects and the conditions of small farming. Before the insurrection brought such great destruction the Gulnes district was one of the most prosperous parts of the island. It has been coming up rather slowly because, with so Urge a proportion of small farms destroyed, and with their owners dead or heavily In debt, speedy recuperation was not possible. The foreclosure of mortgages which has begun still hears heavily on some unfortunate landowners, but this Is one of the inevitable results of the war which no authority of government could entirely relieve. Nevertheless. In spite of the grip of the Spanish money lender, many of the original owners of the small farms or their heirs seem to be keeping their property or a part of It. Their burdens are heavy, yet encouragement Is given that with a good season or two these will be lightened. The Guinea district Is not given over entirely te small farming, for half the country U covered with cane fields, and there are several large eentraiea, or sugar mills, which did not have to be rebuilt. Among these are the Provldencla. one of the largest in Havana previacc. wblck also operates a small refinery; the A mis tad, Nombre de Dios and other smaller estate*. All of these have raised fair crops this year, which have brought aa average price, and thus the gradual revival of the sugar ladost-y has helped other agricultural pursuits. The cane planted insures a crop at^eant ^ne-fourth larger next season, and thls\will be an additional aid toward recuperation, -y The Gulires district dlffef* from other parts or'thaJsloifirTn that It does not depend on nature alone for Its fertility. Irrigation enabled it to become tbe market garden of Havana and to export a considerable surplus crop of onions, potatoes and other vegetables to the United States. It is claimed that a good part of Bermuda onions, Instead of coming from BormuJa, come from Gulnes. By means of irrigation the district is enabled to market two crops of both potatoes and onions annually, In addition to other products which are raised for the island consumption. Tbe Irrigating ditches have' not been restored to their former condition, but enough Is sera of the system to demonstrate its value in a country where the ralay season of four or five months Is supposed to furnish sufficient moisture for the rest of the year. Gulnes, by means of Irrigation, has bad the advantage over the other parts of the island that it could alternate crops with greater regularity, and waa not affected by the ocrAslonal drouths which occur often enough to demonstrate that the rains In Cuba arc not perennial or perpetual. The soil Is both of the rich black loam and of the rod earth, which Is sometimes called mulatto land. It is good for sugar as well as for fruits and vegetables, but it does not produce the tobacco leaf of the quality or quantity sufficient to make this cultivation profitable The Spxnlth laws governing irrigation are said to ne very good ones. parties in Interest, sufficient guarantee for the Investment of capital. Before the Insurrection various English and American syndicates were reported to be projecting extensive systems of irrigation. Since peace came these reports have been revived, but. like most enterprises which are dependant upon American capital, the realisation comes very slowly. Yet in time the object lesson which Guinea has given of the value of Irrigation is certain to be taken advantage of, either by cooperation among tbe land owners themselves or by corporations with outside capita]. In the days before the war and Insurrection the possession of a caballe-

well-to-do fanner. A caballeria Is 32 1-3 acres, yet In Its productive value it would pass for the quarter section ot 160 acres on a western prairie. The farm houses and outbuildings as in all

except for the oppression and corruption of the Spanish officials, were not difficult to meet Sometimes a caballeria would be sold for *5000 or thereabouts, but R was difficult to put any fixed price. The smalt holdlag was valuable

durtiraaees of

ehtisutieaa. Became el the dtetraa

the United States. A number of Amcrirann have coni'Into the district In a small way. ami are doing fairly welt One. gronp of them has made an arrangement with the railroad company to give them warehouse facilities, while other* are operating on their own account Just after the protocol was signed a number of Americans jumped Into Cuban fanning, as they called It. and selected the Gulnes country for the scene of their activities. A few of them leased land*, while to others were given Uie use of tracts by some of the large planters substantia..y for nothing. Few of Uiese early comers made a succcsa The trouble was that they knew little of tanning and bad no capital of their own. When they miscalculated on the Iiotato mark« In New York and when too much rain spoiled part of the crop they were at the end of their resources. Others who came in later an.) who had some capital are doing better. and are greatly encouraged at the prospects which the Gulnes district offers. MICROBES.

featblsa the Vo* at The» r.nemlat at Mea. Half the deaths in the world are

species are ordinarily present in the whole body. I.ocal or climatic conditions might leesea Uie number somewhat or Increase it to several hundred. The eatire mueuous membrane of the body Is Infested by microbes. The eye is, however, comparatively free, because it is constantly washed by tears. The digestive organs, next to the skin, contain the most microbes. Thirty species inhabit the mouth, 30 the stomach and 45 the lower part of the interior of the body. The tonsiU in the throat are often found to contain germs of ail sorts. The lungs, windpipe and bronchial tubes are always likely to contain a few tubercle bacilli—diphtheria. Influenza or pneumonia. The liver and kidneys harbor germs of cancer, t

at the same time along with many

harmless germs.

If a section of the ordinarily healthy forearm were placed under the microscope it might show here and

there tubercle, tetanus (lockjaw), malarial or blood-poisoning bacilli, but

egalast microbes is sunshine. Sometime It takes a few minutes, sometimes weeks, but in the end a direct ray of sunshjne will kill ^.nyj^riteeakra ■ What are microbes? They are verylow orders of animal or vegetable life. The majority of those which Inhabit the human body are believed to be vegetable. The air swarms with microbes. Experiment shows that in one minute In the air of a living room from 5<i te 100 microbes will fail cm one square Inch of gelatine. One microbe, the mycoderma aceti. la a dipsomaniac. No human being ever had the thirst for alcohol that this microbe possesses. It will turn the finest wine ever made to vinegar la a few hours. Strange to say, this groggy microbe never touches liquor which contains

man stomach it is harmless. A list of the common disease* known to be caused by microbes is: Consumption, pneumonia, dfphtberia. scarlet fever, lockjaw, malaria, typhoid. smallpox, the plague, leprosy. Influenza, cancer, cholera, blood poi-

das,

xema.

low fever.—London Express.

ma. hydrophobia, measles i

The Bird Bholoersphcr. When once you have won a bird’s confidence and feel on Intimate terms with him. It will surprise you to find what a wonderfully interesting little 4 chap he is. The plainest and commonest kind has a multitude of strange and Interesting habits yoa have never j dreamed of, and even the despised ‘ English sparrow will exhibit traits of Intelligence and affection which will at once win for him a warm comer In your heart Bird life la not all pleasure and sunshine, by any means. Tragedy and drama there is in plenty, and many a wee bird finds life Just as fierlous s problem as we humans. Comedy and humor there Is, too. and some species seem actually to appreciate a joke. On one oecasloa. while watching a busy downy woodpecker industriously boring for gruba, e sharpshinned hawk dashed by my face straight for the little drummer. Evra quicker was the woodpecker as he 1 eUpped behind the protecting limb, while the bold marauder, baffled, veered off. perched os e neighboring birch, and after staring with savage hautedfi for a moment disappeared among the trees. No sooner was his enemy out of sight than Mr. Woodpacker bobbed out from his shelter and. perking hi. head on oae ofafe appeared to wink la such a knowing manner that I half expected to I