The Algona Upper Des Moines from Algona, Iowa on August 2, 1893 · Page 3
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The Algona Upper Des Moines from Algona, Iowa · Page 3

Algona, Iowa
Issue Date:
Wednesday, August 2, 1893
Page 3
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THE UPPER DES MOINES ALGONA,, IOWA, WEDNESDAY. AtTGOST 2,1893. MELTiRON m WATER METAL rLuxdES. IN, THE FLUID IS AT ONCE FUSED. STJSEL MELTJSi) IN JUST THREE Oac of tho Strange Mechanical Wonders to Be Soon tit Jackson Park— Electricity the Active Agent iin This Seeming Miracle—Xo- More Use for Melting Furnaces. «-«a IS Chicago, July 27,—It is a matter of Interesting speculation what fate would have befallen the man who 400 years ago ventured to assert that he could heart a bar of iron to a white heat by plunging it into a bucket of cold water. A stout stake, n strong cord and a generous bundle of fire wood, with the services of a father of the church before the fagot was applied, would probably have been the best fate meted out to him. If such a man had actually performed the miraculous font, he might have experienced the previous torture of the rack, the boot and thumbscrew, until he was fain to confess that he had worked his magic by the aid of . the evil one. Then his tormentors would have suit him to the stake with •-. the comforting assurance that, though £ hjls vile body was (lost, his soul l^mlght yet be saved by the virtue of ''^confession, recantation and absolution. If one of the chiefs of the Inrmisl- Itlon could bo materialized for a brief ihDur he might see this same wonder performed any day at the world's fair, land -might, moreover, see a hundred tbhnnce visitors pass by and glance the curious feat, not one of whom, Burton for his new forging process. t Is clean, It economizes fuel and space, time and labor. There is very little waste of material, and as the metal Is heated uniformly throughout at the same Ime, there is no weakening of fibrous strength. A new delight has been added to te fair—the small boy, and the big boy. too, can go In swimming. Three long and springy diving -boards now stretch their baize-covered length over the edge of the lake between the escarpment of the Krupp pavilion and the rocky wall below the Convent of La Rablda. All day long, but especially in the evening, when long shadows fall upon the water, agile forms slip into the water with graceful and refreshing splash, and the weary sightseer finds the coolness that he has chased In vain through the day in the bosom of Lake Michigan. Professor Albert Is the genius that has made It possible for tho visitor to "cool off' in nature's best refrigerator. He Is a burly man, who tips the scales at nearly 200, but nevertheless delights In performing feats of agility and strength in the water, which wotild put to shame many a younger and slighter man. Among other things he prides himself on his ability to dive with grace from great heights Into shallow water. He has a big program of feats performed by himself and his assistants, which he will exhibit in the grand basin just as soon as the carpenters get his stage built. At the request of Chicago men the swimming professor has sold his uatatorlums in London and will establish himself in this city after the fair. Among other things he promises to do for Chlcago- ans is to build a bath in the lake', a quarter of a mile from the shore. BY HUGH COHWAYi "Called Bach." Eta. JWft. THE HADONHA M TEMPI. Beatrice's letter, after having been perused and commented upon by the Talberta, wad sent on to Frank Carruthers. A note from Herbert Was Inclosed with it. "You will see"—he wrote—"that this letter is as nnsat- , isfactory as Its predecessors. It gives us absolutely no Information as to where she Is of why she left us. Now that we are assured of her being'well, and, we suppose, safe, our I feeling about her prolonged and unexplained i absence is more than regret-it Is In fact sort- | ous annoyance. We find it quite a strain to answer Inquiries about her without contradicting one another." ! Naturally the envelope which bore Herbert's handwriting was the first opened by Carruthers, and of course he read Beatrice's letter before he read Herbert's. He searched ' the former hi vain for his own name, little thinking how tho writer had sat for a long time before she could bring herself to seal her letter without sending him a crumb of comfort He then read Herbert's commentary and smiled faintly as he drew a ludicrous picture of Horace and Herbert making count- ' er statements to their friends. He mused a while, holding Beatrice's letter in his hand, i Her fingers had touched that sheet of paper; so he actually pressed It to his lips, and hi do- Ing so caught a faint lingering odor of what he remembered washer favorite perfume. It was clear that Mr. Carruthers's disease was as rampant as ever. By and by he turned to see what else Pate had brought htm. Nowadays Fate shoots many of her arrows from tho General Post Office. Carruthers found among other letters one addressed in a woman's handwriting. It personal acquaintance. "Why, Carruthers I" he said, in a soft but rich voice. "So it. Us. 1 haven't seen you for an age. Sit down, my dear fellow. Have a smoke?" He pushed across the cigar box. The cigar . box or Its substitute the cigarette box Is In I the social transactions of modem life rapidly taking the place once filled by the snuff box , of our respected ancestors. . "Got a book coming out," continued Bur-1 nett "Your publisher told me about it They expect great things of it Don't know that you ought, to build on that Oh y«s, my dear Carruthers,"—Frank was about to speak —"of course I'll do anything I can for you.! I am afraid it won't be much. But I think It's better to let every tub stand on its own bottom. If this thing be of " Here Carmthers managed to slip in a word. I'd asked you to do any- Well, counsel you to the best, of my ability? go on I" "Do you know nny picture called the Madonna dl Tempi?" asked Carruthers hastily, and happy to get the question out at last. "A picture called the Madonna dl Tempi," echoed Burnett-. "That's a good broad order, Carruthers. Now, who may that picture be by? An artist's name might aid my memory." "If I knew the artist's name I shouldn't come bothering you. I should get my Information first hand from Pilklngton's dictionary or what book you use." "No doubt you could. Any one can find Information If he knows where to look for It On that shelf you will llnd catalogues of all the European galleries. You can take them and look them through. About a week's employment 1 should say." "I can't spare the time," said Frank. "If you can't tell me I will go and ask some one else. Only I thought you knew every picture In Europe." Burnett's eyes twinkled. Ho laid his hand "But you're going to. A man who turns np after a long absence always comes to ask for something. I was only anticipating your , request I always consent beforehand when lean. Every one has to consent to do what on Frank's arm. "My dear Carruthers," he he's asked. It shows much greater delicacy said "let me entreat you for your own sake not to go rushing about and proclaiming your ignorance of art matters. Let that secret be deposited with mo alone, erently." "Toll mo where the Frank. Burnett stretched out his arm and took a ..«r,,, book off a shelf. Ho opened it and read as "Confound it!" said Carruthers. "Will follows:— you listen? I came to ask " | »Both in tone and execution this beautiful "I knew you came to ask something; my work is closely allied to tho celebrated Ho- grief is that I did not guess what." i donna of tho House of Orleans. Tho colors "You know a great deal about pictures, are laid on thinly with a somewhat fuller 1m- don't you?" said Carruthers not noticing tho paste in tho whitish light It is impossible to Interruption. | conceive a more glossy finish united to more to forestall the demand." "At any rate I didn't come to talk about my book." "Impossible, my dear Carruthcrs 1 A first book, and n )t want to talk about it I Is modesty not yet extinct? Do talk about It—it's unnatural not to do so." I will guard It rev- picture Is," said himself he would have known that graceful head, that perfect form at least a mile away. Yes, there was Beatrice t The Madonna had not led him astray. Had Carrutheil been a Roman Catholic he might have shown his gratitude by the expenditure of pounds and pounds of wax candles. He stood for some time watching Beatrice. Now that he had found her, he trembled at his own act. He trembled at the thought of what ho had to say to her, what she had to say to him. He comforted himself by the assurance that, lie had only sought her, broken through her concealment, for the sake of giving, or at least offering, such help as he could ' give. After this he walked slowly down to the garden and stood in front of her. She raised her eyes and knew him. Her book fell to the ground. She sprang to her feet and tittered a little cry, a cry that sounded very sweet to Mr. Carruthcrs as it was unmistakably one of pleasure. At the unexpected appearance of the man she loved, for a moment there was no thought in her heart save that of Joy. She stretched out her hands. "FrankI Frank I" she cried. "You hero?" He took her hands in his and regardless of bystanders gazed Into her grey eyes. For a moment he could not speak. The sight of Beatrice, the touch of her hand sent the blood rushing through his veins. Days, weeks, months, ho had pictured this meeting, and now it had como to pass! She was fairer than ever—fairer than overl The pure classical features seemed even more perfect, tho clear pale t'nco more beautiful, tho dark grey eyes more wonderful than of old. And, as she had given that little cry of Joy, something hud leapt Into her eyes which Carruthcrs hud never before seen there, or Burnett wheeled round and looked at his' Bubtle modeling, or greater purity of color« of neverbeforc seen BO clearly and midtagubed. friend. Ills eyes twinkled. "Ah, my dear Carruthcrs, there you have me. That Is a question I ask myself day and night. Do I know a grcut deal about pictures? In confidence, my life would bo happier If 1 could answer that question.. My good follow, tl;e spectre, the Frankenstein that haunts my the richest tinge and most dazzling brightness. It Is characterized by plump fonn, soft blending and spare impaste of flesh, bathed in vapor, and made transparent by delicate glazes. It is a true touch of nature which makes the mother accompany tho embrace with a look of tender affection, while tho iy. Tho surprise of seeing him had swept away caution, and for the space of two seconds, Frank was able to rend the very secret of her soul. ->« No wonder he hold her hands and gazed silently in her face. What hud ho to say— What could ho say? Tho certainty that she 1XCHEASBD GAMBLIXO. France Abandoning Thrift for Hazards of Speculation. the The launch as :i uatioii wore V(:i - y free from tho gambling passion before the- war, but since then a great elmige has taken place. Horse racing lias m" lu « U " UUUB "*"' " UL « uo 7 vvuul "' undergone a great extension, but by no Although he came from the far east, • * «• * . * mmo „„_._.,.„ „,.„, m m wm o %!' set it <li-wn as anything more Heharmful or wonderful than "the latest Pithing in electricity." '**i While the forging of metals Is not juite the latest application of the mar- science of electricity, it is suffl- ;olently new to attract the attention of '"ill interested in mechanical pros. The abolition of the furnace (i'.a means of heating large pieces of 'etol to a malleable -temperature opens to. field of development as great as y yet discovered by electricians, jars ago the same thing was done on faf'snmll scale, and much, was said of le possibility of future work on the t ,_imo line. Now that it has been suc- 'f]|essfully accomplished, and comparo,- lively large forgings have been mode, Ithere appears to be no limit to the enterprise. Before many years it may be possible to turn out from an electrical forge even such a mighty piece of metal as the shaft of an ocean racer. Two Boston men, George D. Burton and E. E. Angell, are the men to whom must be given credit for having perfected machines for electrical forging. Their first public demonstrations were given two years ago in Boston, and since then they have continually added to their devices for handling metals at high temperatures until they have now the most complete set of machinery of this description in the world. When applications for space in the electricity building were being received, they were allowed sufficient to exhibit practically on the floor of the building all the most interesting of their many inventions. To an outsider the niosn interesting operation performed by Mr. Burton's workmen is undoubtedly that in which .a bar of metal is heated by contact with water. A man seizes a piece of iron with a pair of pliers to which are attached a couple of electric wires. The water is already electrically connected. When the water is touched by the metal it bubbles and hisses furiously, boiling at once all points of contact. In thirty seconds the Iron is lifted out and shown to bo at a red heat. As soon as the current is turned off the metal may be cooled hi the same water. The voltage of the cuts rent necessary is so low that the man who handles the 'pliers is In no'danger from a shock, even wlien the whole apparatus is charged with electricity. Another piece of work which Mr, Burton's men are continually employed upon is the twisting of brass railings. This is also a simple operation and demonstrates the 'eajse with which metal may be heated by paslug a current through it. A long flat bar of brass is fastened between two clamps. The current is turned on and in less than a minute the workman who Is watching the metal discovers by its color that it has reached the necessary temperature. He releases one of the clamps and gives it a circular twist. The clamp is heavy, the metal soft, and It twists without effort. It takes less than another minute for the rail to cool after the current has been turned, off, and it is then removed, a perfectly shaped piece of metal As a last test, to convince the incredulous that electrical heating is all that it "professes to be, a bar of steel, three feet long niud a couple of inches through, is placed between the clamps. Then the spectator is told to watch. In two minutes brilliant jagged sparks begin to fly from the center of the metal. They grow In frequency until they form a fountain of scintillating stars. Then without warning the bar falls on to the concrete floor in half p. iloKt-u fused masses. In three minutes it has "been heated to melting point, and the surrounding air has not been raised la temperature one appreciable degree. It Is not difficult to appreciate ftil the means iu the same proportion tiiat betting an horses lias increased. It is tho bookmaker, not the jockey, who has done tilio mischief. Formerly the French never bet oil horses' except at the nice course; they went to enjoy the spectacle. Now most of the betting goes On in cafes and wine shops, aiud the measures taken by the government of late yours to reduce the evil arising from this state of things are well known, snys the St. James Gazette. But where the betting is concerned there is always a way of outflanking the lalw, and the number of persons belonging to the petite bourgeoisie and the working class who spend all the time they can steal from their regular employment at the house oC the sporting cafe-tier and niastrocmet increases rather than diminishes. The cafetier himself, although his business is to keep out of danger and to make as much as he can from the others who are drawn into it, is sometimes ills customers, or allows the shrewdest of them to victimize him. Tills was the case with the man Coupe, who kept a' small cafe and wine shop in the Rue do la Glaciere, whose excessive faith In tuyaux—modern French for "tips"— brought him to the brink of ruin. Like a Monte Carlo gambler,'broken down iin bank and credit he saw no solution but death: ahd, having brought Ills wife to tiie same wa|y of thinking, he shot her, his two children nnd then himself. It is this horrible affair that 1ms made the betting nuisance in Paris again a subject of public discussion. The goveuamcnt lute been asked to take measures still more draconlan in order to put it clown; but experience lias proved that wlren people have fallen into bad habits they are jiot to be brought back to the straight path of austere virtue by legislation. The truth is tiiat the same class of people who formerly wre content to toil year after fcrear, denyimg themselves all luxuries and putting by every spare franc In order to secure for themselves a little independence, now find either tiiat the struggle is too severe and hopeless or that their resolution is not equal to so prolmged an effort. All are casting about to find short cuts to fortune, ami the conclusion to which most of them come Is that there is 110 short cut. to this much-desired goal except gambling, either of the frank and open kind or disguised by phraseology that gives It a more respectable color. directed to London. He opened It carelessly , existence is the dread that some day I shall child receives tho caress more mechanically j loved him made his task no easier—the task and found it contained a half sheet of note . lau ^ a wor ] C j 0 i\ w S ]j[ 08 an( i. nn fl too late, loo , and gazes straight out of tho picture?" tiannr. nn whip.h was written "Remember' i»»« «,„* if l» « K-,,1 «™v.r VMa r.nrvndinrs "Thfirn. mv donr (Invrnt.linrs <1n vnn Tins PIUOVKUSK SEXTON. The following story Is told In a western religious paper: A young lady organist in a church in Colorado who was somewhat oaptivalted with the young pastor of the church, in the next street, was delighted to hear one week that by an exhange he was to preach the next Sunday in her own cliuroh. The organ was pumped by an obstreperous old; sexton, who would often sltop when he thought tho organ voluntary had lasted long enough. This day the organist was anxious that all should go well, and as the service was about to begin she wrote a note Intended solely for tlia sexton's eye. He took it, and •in spite of her agonized beckonings, carried it straight to the preacher. Wliat was tjliat gentleman's astonishment when he read: "Oblige me this morning by blowing away till I give you the signal to stop." paper, on which was written "Remember your promise. Wait, oh, be patient and waltl" Carruthers threw It aside with a smile. He well knew who was the writer. Wait I What was there to wait for? However, the sig it of those words brought back I tho memory of that strange nocturnal visit; of the woman's earnest, even impassioned appeal to him, to "wait live, ten, twenty years for the one he loved." Why should she write now and repeat the appeal? She who knew everything: she who had accompanied Beatrice and who was probably with her now. He could not get tho memory of that strange creature with her dreary belief, yet unswerving faith as to his own future, from his mind. At the time tho woman's earnestness had impressed him more than he cared to confess. Superstition is a quality to the , possession of which no man of our tune Is willing to own, not even to himself. Yet' nine men out of ten are superstitious. I Carruthers told himself that such hope as ' he had gathered from Mrs. Miller's words waa simply gathered because he believed her to be hi Beatrice's confidence. Here ho was wrong. It was the woman's broad but ab- \ Boluto assertion, uttered with the passionate Inspiration of a prophetess of old, that happl- ' ness In this world awaited him and Beatrice, ' which had been of aid to him in his trouble. If faith can move stubborn mountains, why not a heart which is willing enough to move In a particular direction? I And now this woman repeated her mes- i sage, and, as Carruthers read the letter, told him his case was no more hopeless than it was months ago. ' I He took the note which he had crumpled up and tossed away; he spread It out and read it again. He found, moreover, that It was written on paper similar to that used by Beatrice, and upon turning it over he saw on the back a few words in pencil. They were written so faintly that he had to carry the note to a strong light hi order to decipher them. The words were "Madonna dl Tempt," and to the best of his belief, as experts say when giving evidence, the handwriting was Beatrice's. What did the words mean, and how far would they aid him hi finding Beatrice? He soon settled in his mind that Madonna di Tempi must be the name of a picture. But what picture? Where waa it to be found? Of course it did not follow that supposing he could ascertain all about this picture, which might or might not be a world-famed one, that he would find Beatrice near It Nevertheless the clue was worth following. He would have followed a finer clue than this to the end of the world on tho chance of its leading him to Beatrice. So he at once set about the task of getting information, If Information could be got, respecting a picture called the Madonna dl Tempt. He hoped, but his hopes were not very strong. Indeed, he could not help comparing his case to that of the fair Saracen's, who found hor lover by toe aid of two words. Yet she was bettor off than he was. She at least had the name of ft place for one of her talismanlc words. Ha had the name of what he supposed to be a picture; nothing more, Mr. Carruthers was not one of tho inner circle of art worshippers. 'His sallet, his sturm und drang, his emotional days, were well over before the era of blue and white china. He had no rhapsodies, written or spoken, to arise hereafter and pick his conscience. Ho had not bowed his knee to the Intense, nor sacriJiced on tho altar of the incomprehensible. He was fond of pictures as pictures, and was bold enough to say he liked what he did like and that he disliked what he did dislike. Hence it will be at once seen that his opinion was worth nothing to any one except himself. Having found the knowledge not indispensable, he could not, like many men, check off late, that it Is a bad copy. This, Carruthers, j "Tjjere, my dear Carruthers, do you recog- Is an anxiety you will bo over spared, An. nlzeit? Is that your picture?" | SWOT your own question for mo and. you will; Frank foil Into the humor. "It must bo," ™*tet makemoahalijMormah." ! 2? ^ld, gravely. "The plump form; the Frank laughed. "Well, you're supposed to spare Impaste.tho bath of vapor. ^ There can know a great deal.' "That is a much better way of putting it I can answer that without outraging modesty. Supposing then that I am supposed to know —what follows?" "I want to " "My dear Carruthcrs, my question was one of those interpolated phrases which an orator uses for the purpose of answering himself. I know perfectly well what you want. You have bought in a shop in some back slum, or, it may be, at a sale, a piece of old canvas or copper covered with certain pigments. You have bought it for a song. You have taken It home, looked at it in every light; you have wetted your ringers nnd rubbed them over portions of.your purchase, and have found hidden beauties. You have looked through a magnifying glass and tried to find a signature. Now don't interrupt me, my dear fellow, 1 know the whole process. Belief as to the enormous value of your purchase has grown upon you, but you are not quite satisfied, so you have come to show it to me, and at this moment a cab is standing at my door with your picture in it. Don't bother to carry it up. If you insist upon my looking at it just go down and hold it up; I'll look out of the window." "I didn't cpnio in a cab," said Carruthers. § "An, then its too large to bring t' me. So much the worse for you, Carruthers.. It's in 1 your rooms of course, resting on a chair, in a strong light Oh, yes, I'll look round some morning. You generally smoke good cigars and I suppose keep a d'' -k handy. Don't apologize for troubling mo. It will be no trouble. But about the picture; put it in your bedroom with its face to tho wall. I needn't look at it I can give you my opinion without seeing it. I assure you it Is not genuine, my dear Carruthers—they never are." i "As I have not bought any picture " be-' gan Carruthers. I "Oh, it's one you're going to buy, is it? Do you know, my dear Carruthers, I should be \ careful if I were you. I wouldn't go beyond '" five pounds unless It is a Titian, a Guido, a ' Raphael, or a Murillo. Then you might go to seven. Seven pounds is a nice limit for , a picture buyer. 1 know a man who got together a charming gallery of old masters on § a seven pound limit. Funny thing too, he had several genuine works in it." j "Lucky man I" said Frank who began to see that he must let his friend go to tho length ' of his tether. Mr. Burnett was not a rapid speaker but a continuous and a sustained one. | He was one of those men whoso words flow out so softly, so richly and so pleasantly that it seems sacrilege to stop them. i "I don't see the luck, my dear Carruthers. ' His pictures cost him seven pounds apiece and would no doubt sell for seven pounds apiece. Of course it never occurred to you that a picture to fetch money must be more than genuine. It must have a pedigree. A picture without a pedigree is as worthless as a princess without one. A picture with a pedigree sells for heaven knows what, although it isn't genuine. My dear fellow, I know a man who gave twenty-two thousand pounds for a couple of pictures. They were bought abroad for six thousand, sent over in a special steamer. My friend heard about them and being afraid some one would forestall him went down to Dover to meet them. He gave a check for the money without even unscrewing the cases, What do you think of that?" "The dealer guaranteed the pictures, I suppose?" "Guaranteed! How simple you are, Carruthers I Wh can guarantee a picture except the artist who tinted it? No, he guaranteed that the cases contained two pictures which had hung in a nobleman's residence in a cer- not bo two such. But set my doubts at rest" "Ah, yes. 1 see It te called the Madonna dl Tempi. Painted by Raphael. You have heard of Raphael, Carni there?" "Where is It?" asked Frank quickly. "It Is in the Old Pinakothek." "In the what?" "My dear Carruthcni, how ignorant you are. I thought you studied Greek at Oxford —Pinakothek is derived from a Greek word-" "I know all that, but where is It?" "My, dear Carruthers, you asked me what, not whore. I wiu, answering your question." "But where Is it I" "Your ignorance is deplorable. The Old Pinakothek is in Munich. Munich you may know is the capital of—" Frank jumped up, feeling he had been tormented long enough. "Thank you," he said, "I aui so much obliged." "Not going, CaiTuthers I Oh, sit down and have a chat Tell mo all about your book. You must be dying to toll mo all." "No.I'm not, 1 must go now. Good-bye." "But where arc you going?" ' "The words you read have fired me. 1 am going to Munich to see the Madonna dl Tempi." And before Mr. Burnett could get out another question Carruthers was gone. The smallest slips ruin the most cleverly devised schemes. Tho omission or the,addition on a bill of exchange of a simple mark called a "tick,'" sent Messrs.Bidwell and Co. into retirement at tho country's expense instead of enjoying the fat of a foreign land at tho cost of tho old lady of Threadneedle Street An act of Beatrice's, that of penciling down in an Idle moment the title of a picture which had struck her fancy, brought Mr. Cairuthers in hot haste to her hiding* Fate is turned by 9, feather I of telling hor that ho know her secret or at least a groat part of It—tho task of asking her to conlido in him and let him help her. So ho remained silent until she gently drew her hands from his. The light had faded from Beatrice's face. She also after a moment of forgetfulness was coming back to her own world and Its troubles. Hor eyes dropped and her face clouded. "How did you find me?" she asked In troubled tones. "By a strange chance. I will toll you how some day." "Tell me now." Frank shook his head. "Not now," he said. "Lot it suffice that I have found you." "But," said Beatrice with agitation, "do others know—can others tod mo? II you learned It why not another?" He saw the display of fear, and hastened to reassure her. "No one save myself can learn It hi the same way. Your retreat is safe." She sighed her relief. There was an awkward pause. Frank was tho first to break tt. "Beatrice," he said, "I have come a long way to see you. I have much to say—you may have much to say to me. Can we go to some place where wo can talk?" "Yes, wo can go to my home." Beatrice called her boy, and Frank, glad of anything | to break the awkwardness of the moment, greeted the little fellow and made friends with him to such purpose that he Insisted upon Mr Carruthcrs holding his chubby hand and walking with him. "What a pity to cut that bright hair I" said Frank to Beatrice. .. "It was more than pity—it was cruel, but It was cruel necessity," sho said sadly. on his fingers the principal productions of the j tain place, and which had formerly hung in are br ;W. S. MJBLLBN Expires Suddenly at Victoria of Neuralgia of the Heart. St. Paul, July 27.—A private telegram received at the Northern Pacific railway headquarters ia this city says W. 8. Metyen, general manager otf the road, cUe4 at Victoria, p. O., last nlgjnt "•• "—'• 0? neuralgia 9f th,« h.ea,rt grand old masters and name the spot of earth on which each one could be found. But like the man, who, when challenged to fight, replied "I can't fight myself, but I have a little friend who can," and forthwith struck down his challenger with a short, stout poker, Mr. Carruthers, if he did not know these things himself, had a friend who know. This friend was a .Mr. Burnett, a recognized art authority. Now it is an accepted truth that an art authority is born, not made; at least no one has yet discovered the method of manufacture. He steals upon the world full grown, the great mother Art's exponent He 6 recognized. He is kind and benignant He takes our hands and guides us, shows us what to praise and what to blame. We are grateful, and, If we are rich, regulate our purchases according to his word. Frank found Mr. Burnett at his rooms, writing—critiques on the recently opened exhibitions most likely. Burnett was a tall man, at least six feet high. He wa^ portly and filled his round-backed study chair most thoroughly. His face was round and cleanly shared. Ho was slightly bald. His eyes were blue and looked at you In a way which tare promise of humor. Taking him altogether he was the last man whom, Judging by Ws writings and renown, you would have fUjectedtobe Mr. Purnett, and a —'-'",o, objecting to some of Ws him ftH an **«manlAfcv1 Ann another place, and which had belonged to so and so, and which were the two identical pictures mentioned by Horace Walpole or somebody else, as two of tho finest examples of a certain artist, and so back and back. There was an unbroken pedigree. Well, my dear Carruthers, I was present when my friend opened the cases. That was because I knew tho pictures and could assure him lie had the right ones. I had, of course, seen them before, and when first I saw them I knew I had the advantage of the reputed artist—he never saw them." "You told your friend so of course." "Certainly not. Who am I to dispute the verdict of those who went before me? The pictures wore established, my dear fellow. Besides my friend had a very good bargain. if his collection is ever sold they will fetch thirty thousand. But I'd stick to the seven pound limit if I were you. And now about this picture you want to buy?" "I haven't the slightest Intention of buying any picture." 'My dear Carruthers. 1 hope I haven't deterred you. I hope I have not nipped the Incipient bud of art love." '? say, Burnett," sa.ld Frank growing des. perate. "Jf you'd pnly condescend to Jlst- CHAPTER XXX. . THE TItUTJI AT LAST. ! Carrutliers reached Munich late at night. He went straight to that comfortable hotel the "Four Seasons," and, feeling that the hour was too late to begin his researches, supped and went to bed. In spite of his excitement at the thought of being in tho same town as Beatrice, lie slept soundly. Man Is but mortal, and after traveling as fast as Is possible from London to Munich, it takes a great deal to spoil a night's rest So In the morning Carruthers arose refreshed and eager to begin the quest. But how to begin It? He was notevensure that its object was in Munich. Because she had written down the name of a picture It did not follow she was near that work of art. She might only have paid Munich a flying visit—might now be miles and miles away. He grew very despondent as he realized tho slender, fragile nature of tho clue which he had so impetuously taken up and followed. Nevertheless he vowed ho would not leave Munich until he felt sure it did not harbor the fugitives. He stopped through tho swinging doors of his.hotel, and stood In the broad iilaxlrnll- lians-Strasse. He hesitated, uncertain what to do, which way to turn. So far as he could see, his only chance of finding Beatrice waa meeting her iu tho public streets; his only plan was to walk about those streets until ha met her. At any rate he would do nothing but this for tho next few days. If unsuccessful he would then think whether ho could apply to such persons as might be able to tell him what strangers were, living in Munich. He turned to the right, went across the Plate, and Into the fair Ludwig-Strasse. Ho walked on witli palaces on either hand until he came to the gate of victory, Preoccupied as Mr. Carruthers was, the number of magnificent buildings he passed greatly Impressed him. However, ho deferred his admiration until happier times. A kind of superstition mado him think It well to see tho picture which had brought him so far. He inquired the way to the Old Pinakothek, and upon arriving there sought for and found the Madonna dl Tempi, He stood for a long time contemplating It, not because he so much admired It as in the hope that fate might bring Beatrice to his side. She did not como, so he bade the Madonna adieu, and after having run quickly through the large rooms and cabinets in the hope of encountering Beatrice, he left the building wishing that the living masterpiece he sought was as easy to find as that of the dead artist Keeping to what seemed the principal and most populous streets ho found himself once more in front of his hotel. He started off la an opposite direction, went down the broad Maxlmllllans-Stnisso. More palaces, moro statues, but no Beatrice. At last he stood on the stone bridge which spans the shallow but »pld fear, Hestoppod and looked at the curious artificial bed of smooth planks over which the river runs; and then he looked down into the little triangular pleasure-garden which lies between the two arms of th« DR. CARVER'S CLOSE CALL. It Required Quick Work With a Pistol to tj'ive Him From Indians -_v <: - f \"*Q A friend of mine who knows tlio expert shot intimately, told me the other day of a ithrilliiig experience of Dr. W. F. Carver, in Uio unsettled part of Min^ nesota, whilo trapping with a companion named Brewstor, says the Louisville Courier-Journal, says the Louis- some Indians robbing their traps and tired upon them witli effect. For two mouths lifter tills they wore forced to piny liide-aud-seck witli members 01 Uio band of Indians. They hml'u "dugout" hi a little valley nnd felt secure in tills against, a reasonable number of the foe. Lute one evening Carver waa alone in the dug-out muldng biscuits. Ho had ithrowii all his weapons aside, nnd with sleeves rolled up was working the dough, Avhcu a shadow was cast from l,lie entrance of the liiUle cave. Thinking it was his comrade, he said, "Hello, partner, you are back soon." In guttural tones came ithe reply, "I-low Koola," «nd turning he saw three Indians. White Antelope, Whistler 'and Fat Bum 1 , all well known chiefs. They had noticed 14m t ho was unarmed, was interested In .his' occupation, and, Instead of attacking him, Whistler, who appeared to bo in authority, signed to him to contiimio his work and prepare a supper for them. Carver obeyed, making the biscuits ready for baking and placing a beaver's tall on the lire. 1'hori he started for somo wood, indicating by signs that wood was needed. AVliistler motioned him to remain, and White Antelope went after tho fuel. He brought with, others one stick about the Iengt4i and sine of a' baseball bait. Carver placed one end of this In the fire and laid supper for his savage guests upon a buffalo skin. The Indians began to eat in a manner which, made Carver, not- witlistaiidiug lila danger, grieve for the biscuits wJiidi were so rapidly disappearing. Realizing the fate which awaited him as soou as the supper could be disposed of, Carver was devising some means for reaching one of his pistols, which were not many feet distant Making a pretense of stirring up the flee he| drew out the blazing stick of wood, dealt one of the Indians a stunning blow on the face, gave the second a vicious kick and leaped over the third, who was dazea by the flying sparks and suddenness of (the attack. The next instant Carver's pistol rang out three times as rapidly as a skill**! hand could pull the trigger, and tjie tteee Indians as speedily became "good Indians," for they were dead Indjlajo* Walter cago is aesttped to fee, tlie tb.a.ti

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