PfRCY H. VAR DYKE, PnHUtwr »nd Eflttr.
NEWPORT. - * ARKANSAS.
“ WHITE COAL ” OF FRANCE.
Glndnl Slrmrno of flic Alpine BprIob
Arc Itroinrlit Inin Service «"
I’oivcr l<'orni*i!icr».
There has been quite a great deal
of activity in the past few years in the
development of the glacial streams of
Alpine France, says the Philadelphia
Record, and the torrents which until
. recently flowed aimlessly through that
country have in many cases been put
to useful labor and the engineers have
designs on a number of others. One
of the chief spirits in tire movement
to utilizes the mountain streams is M.
Berges, a well-known engineer, and
he has estimated the hydraulic forces
of France at 10,000.000 horse-power.
This is more t ha insufficient to drive
_ all the IiuLnsfries-tW the country. Ac
•cording to his figurelL the 25,000 miles
of railroads in France make use of
4.000,000 horse-power find the other
industries of the covint ry require 2,500,
000, making a total of 6,500,000 horse
power.
In most eases five method of making
use of the water has been to divert
it and conduct it to a point where it
can economically be availed of. Large
pipes of metal bring the water from
vast heights. A section of one of these
great conduits is a few inches less than
11 feet in diameter, or about the same
size as the tunnel under the Thames at
fx<onaon, dux ine janer is jess man juu
feet in length, while those in the moun
tains of France are in some instances
of great length. The one spoken of,
which is laid near Grenoble, which is
the “white-coal capital,” is over 15,000
feet long. A little over 8,000 feet of
this is of steel and the rest is of wi/ed
cement.
At Lancey, a few miles northeast of
Grenoble, the water which gives power
to mills of various kinds and to the.
electrical plant which lights the val
ley of the Graisivairdan and maintains
its several t ram way systems is brought,
by three successive fails, whose total
is 6,560 feet.
Light is furnished to the houses and
farms of the vicinity at a very mod
erate cost. For example:
Fcr year.
First lamp, ten candle power.I4.82V4
Second lamp, ten candle power. 2.89*4
Three lamps, live candle power each.. 2.89*4
—
Total for five lamps, 36 candle
power.$10.61
An average of $2.12 per lamp per
year.
In I860 it was deemed a bold achieve- <
Tnrnt to bring water from a height of
200 feet, as at Uriage; but-now M.
Berges has succeeded in canalizing a
fall of 1,640 feet and another of 1,804
fee t. At Epierre (Savoie) M. .Joya used
n fall of 1,035 feet and at C'hapnreillan <
1(25 miles from Grenoble) another of
2,040 feet. ,
From Till* Account It Appears That
There Is an lutlmnte Connec
tion Between Them. '
Bad cookery and slovenly house
keeping were the direct causes of
400 divorces in Chicago last year.
This statement, by the head of the
Chicago bureau of charities, fur
bishes every housewife in the land i
with a subject for serious reflection,
says a Chicago exchange, for hus
bands’ tempers and digestions are
equally frail in Maine, Illinois and
California, and divorces know no geo- ,
graphical limits. During 1902, it ap
pears, 400 deserted wives who up
IlllOfl nf lmrootl /if olinvitiac fill*
assistance, and later obtained di
vorces, admitted that they could ,
“neither cook nor keep house,” and of
course they could not expect to keep
husbands. For these unhappy mar
riages the men themselves were to
blame in great, measure, and they
need not pass us objects of popular
sympathy. Why did they marry
L-——jsiomen Ignorant of the best requi
sites of a happy domestic life?
If this unfortunate condition of
affairs is paralleled elsewhere, soci
ologists will have to wrestle with the
knotty problem of how a young man
before proposing matrimony may
gauge accurately a young woman’s
knowledge of domestic science. Shall
he seek the advice of some noted an- 1
Ihority, and receive thorough coach
ing'll! the subject in ortler to become
a competent judge of bis beloved's
qualifications? Shall the question:
“Can you cook ’’ precede the ques
tion: “Will v >u wed?”
While the adoption of such unro
man tie expedients would grate upon
a sensitive nature, something must
be done if affairs are as bad as t'hi- ,
cage’s superintendent of charities
would have us believe. Perhaps it
would be as well for American mas- *
rulinity to take a few lessons in the
gentle art of frying eggs and boiling
’’V coffee as a preliminary training for
^Suatrimony (for who can tell when
this knowledge might come into
play?) or test personally the possi- ,
bility of the chafing dish. that, close
culinary companion of the lonely
bachelor. Evidently logic can trace
an intimate connection between dys- *
pepsin and divorces, and wise wives ’
will "iot be slow to take the hint.
I'hanee to I’ajr I’ll. ,
“Why,” asked the old man, address- .
ing his son-in-law, who had failed in
business, “do you think 1 should set ,
you on your feet?” ,
•‘Jleeause I once did you a great fa- ,
vor,” replied the addition to the fam- ,
ily circle.
“Favor!” exclaimed the old man. j
“When did you ever do me a favor?” |
“Von seem to forget, sir,” calm
ly answered ihe other, “that I took
your daughter off your hands.”—Chi- j
cago Daily News. f
THE DOG AROUND TOWN.
Have you feasted to-day, old fellow?
Had a sniff of some meat or a hone?
Were you gen’rously fed upon gravy and
bread
By some one who called you their own?
Your ribs, sir! How plainly they're show
ing!
Your legs seem uncertain and weak!
Have jou searched every street for a
morsel to eat?
Are you just a town dog, sir? Come,
speak!
Were you housed from the snowstorm last
night, sir?
Did you sleep within some warm bed?
Did you hear the w ind roar past the closed
stable door
While dreams of green fields filled your
head?
Or did you crawl into some alley
To curl up and shiver, and know
The voice of slow death In the w ind’s icy
breath
'Neath your soft, creeping blanket of
snow ?
Has anyone patted your head, sir?
Or noted your great, sunken eye?
Have your unkempt ears heard any kind,
gentle word
From some human friend, passing by?
Or have folks just kicked you aside, sir?
Why, you're trembling now, where you
stand!
Have they struck you so much that you
quake at my touch
And cower at sight of my hand?
It's the way of the world, poor old fellow 1
Just a struggle for bread, or a bone;
And some of us know how you feel when
you go
To your bed in the alley alone!
Were you sleek and well cared for and
handsome
Friends would feed you anti love you
on sight;
But It's different, sir, with a poor, luck.ess
cur,
Just a dog around town! There, good
night!
—Colorado Springs Gazette.
* + *********W* *■*■*T*T«T -T £
l Happy |
i Shadows *
t — *
* By MARY S. PADEN ★
*-M^****+++++**-MoK*+k*+***
(Copyri«ht, im by Dally Story Pub. Co.)
^ AH, I do want somebody to
play with me! Nobddy will
play with me!’
Such a forlorn small figure it was.
with tear-grimed checks and a discon
solate droop to the toboggan-tassel
meant, to stick out saucily from the
round little head.
The bent-shouldered old woman
joining wearily up the street smiled
jrimly at first. Ah, well, if one’s
>nlv grief were simply having no one
to play with! Hut, as she dragged
ilowly on she saw. the child run
jravely after the passing groups of
jliildren, begging them to stop and
ilay.
“Poor little fellow! Why can’t he
ie happy now, at least? Come, she
laid, in a burst of self-forgetful
sympathy. “1 w^l race you to the
•orner and back.”
The glad "Oh. will you?” and the
juick hope brightening the tear
oiled face repaid her and gave her
i start.
Alas! Little legs take short strides,
mt they take many. Neddy bound
'd along with double vigor for the
ime lost in lonely repining. Her
jreath came thick and fast. Her
>ent shoulders, her stiff limbs, her
dow breath seemed to seize and hold
ler back. It was torture! Not even
i little kindly act like that could she
lo. Oh, she was old and worn and
sick of it all! And down her soft. ,
vrinkled cheeks slow tears began to
riekle as she panted after the child. ,
vho was beginning to look back ,
louDtiuuy. ,
Not even to the corner! She could
'o no further. Poor little Neddy! ,
She cared more for his disappoint
nent than for the revelation of her
mu weakness. On the stretch of ,
(lank wall, where the slanting sun
•ays made clear shadows, she could .
see his blithe running figure, so dif- ,
Trent now from the forlwtU lump
vith the flat, discouraged tassel.
With a sudden inspiration she ;
rasped: ,
“See him, Neddy, see him! Your 1
ilaymate has come, your very own!" :
The child veered sidewise as she 1
minted at the shadow on the wall; i
so did the shadow. The tassels
vaved recognition and friendly de
innee. 1
“Oh!” screamed the child, in i
:cstasy. “He's racing me!” :
“Yes,” she panted. “Hun quickly. 1
le'll keep up with you. I'll watch
rou.” 1
On sped Neddy and on sped the *
ihadow-boy. Neddy chuckled and j
ihouted in the joy of mntehood, till '
Tom the old wall and the hilly 1
'rounds back of it there echoed a s
thrill, thin, answering cheer; from (
he shadow-hoy, of course.
Neck and neck they kept along the )
'rent wall, turning back at the cor- '
ter, around which little Neddy might 1
tot go, and racing home again. The 1
vail broke off at the place where the 1
wo cottages of Neddy’s parents anti 1
he old lady's neighbored each other 1
imidly on the long, lonely square. 1
'teddy stubbed his toe and fell. Too *
vildly excited to be hurt, lie seraiu
tied up again, and, bless you. if the ^
ihadow-boy had not fallen, too, over *
he lilac-bush, and there they were, ^
ust even, Neddy getting his breath *
tcrched on the low gate-post., and the *
hadow-boy on the old lady’s porch,
igainst the cottage side.
The old lady came slowly along, *
lie misery of her hurried breathing '
[uieted down, and smiling to see the '
■ager, happy face, full of interroga- *
ion-points, raised to hers.
“Yes, you will find him pretty nenr
y every day that it is nice and
night enough for little boys to be c
iut. He will always be willing to 1
day with you and will never run t
way from you. He won’t quarrel %
,nd hurt you.” j
“What’s his name?”
“His name, Neddy? Well, I think
it’s Teddy.”
“Oh, I want to play with him some
more! Wait for me, will you?” and
he raced off eagerly, running, leap
ing, dancing like a little Comanche,
strutting like a small fat gladiator
and making the quiet street ring
with shouts and laughter that cer
tainly sounded like those of two
small boys.
The little old lady drew her shawl
about her as she sat on her porch,
though she was sure she did not feel
the cool of the growing evening as
much as usual. She heard the invalid
father ask the busy little mother:
“What makes the boy so happy?
I heard him whining around a little
while ago, and it made me feel worse
and more helpless than ever. That
does one’s soul good. Listen!” he ex
claimed, at a fresh burst of mirth.
“It’s that dear old lady,” she heard
the busy mother answer. “He was
crying, and what with the supper to
get and the baby, I couldn’t do any
thing; but she has taught him some
new game and it has helped me work
to hear him laughing since. I was
a little afraid, though, that you would
mind the noise.”
“Not that kind. It does me good.”
“The baby’s crowing and laughing,
ami I declare, the cakes are done to
a turn; there's truth in the saying
that they bake better in a cheerful
oven. Now, I just think I ought to
hand her in a plate of them for her
tea. I’m afraid we have been too
busy" to be neighborly; it must be
a lonelyr coming home every night
for a poor body like her, and work
ing hard all day.”
The little boy came and rested his
plump arms on her thin knees. “I’ve
had a splendid time, and I’ll always
have someone to play with, now. 1
—I wish—” he hesitated, as if he
felt he should not ask more, “he
could come and see me sometimes
in my house.”
“Why, he will,” she said. His eyes
danced. “When the lamps are light
ed, you get between the lamp and
(he wall—never very near the lamp,
you know—and you’ll find him. Your
papa will help you.”
“Oh!” The fat, warm hands
clasped lier's in rapture inexpressi
ble.
She kissed him and lifted him over
the low fence, took the plate of ap
petizing brown cakes from his mother
ind went in to her lonely room.
Suddenly, she started; she did not
seem to be eating her dreary meal
lione, as she had done so long — so
long! Was there not a figure sitting
apposite, lifting a sociable cup or a
friendly slice when she did, munching
iway in a reminiscent silence? A
sense of companionship grew upon
ler. She glanced sidewise, not too
sharply, at the figure now and then.
5he ate again gay lunches with a
loon comrade of school days, when
lreams were bright and the future
i coming fortune; again, she seemed
:o enjoy a sister’s quiet presence. Ev
;ry bite and sup was pleasure, where
t, had been mere necessity for years.
Still half dreaming, she threw a
lapkin over the tea-things, pushed
he table back and dropped into her
ow-seated, high-backed rocker, sway
ng to and fro some moments before
;he happened to glance up again. She
lad moved nearer to the lamp, fur
her from the wall. Was that mere
y the shadow of the chair-back, or
i tall figure bending over her own
diadow, shrinking shyly back? Her
ikl rough-weather hat was hanging
•arelessly from a side knob of the
•hair, but the tall figure on the wall
leld a manly chapeau in gallant and
irifmu ihmiioii.
Iler heart stopped its mechanical,
nonotonous beating and kept time to
ild music. The breath of flowers
‘tided summers and summers ago
stole into the room. Her head sank
ipon her arms—not even the lonely
•oom might see her face then.
Swaying back and forth, the rock
ng-cliair traveled as such things will,
piite a way across the room. The
lat sw.nug off unnoticed. The head
iest slipped down, as they always do;
mlf-unconseiously she caught it and
•esting it upon her arms, she hid her
ace again.
At last she looked up, “Ah!” she
irenthed. The figure was gone, gone
rrevoeabiy, gone like the summers
ind their flowers and the music of
he long ago.
The clock struck an hour past her
icdtime. Slowly she moved about,
traightening the room, locking the
loor, disrobing, kneeling a moment
n the wordless prayer of those who
lave nothing to expect, nothing to
.sk except that which will surely
ome anyway—a long rest, sometime.
Then, .-.he began to climb slowly in
>ed. her last luxury of the day bo
ng that flicker of the still-lingering
ire instead of the usual chill, eco
lomic dark. And then it was that,
in the side of the bed, against the
vail, as she climbed in, she saw a
all, gently-wavering figure hovering,
s it were, over the bed. Quickly she
hut her eyes, that she might not
ose it. and lay down happily. Soft
lands seemed to smooth the pillow,
uek in the comfort and sweep the
lair back, ns ever so long ago in
hose best of times, when mother
oved us.
Not in years had the bed seemed
o soft to the old limbs. Not once
lid she think of the old bugbear of
cork on the morrow. Just ere she
Irifted into pleasant dreams, she
bought a soft kiss fell upon her
losing lids.
Flax Straw Utilized.
Thousands of tons of straw pro- .
need in raising flax for its seed in ,
Minnesota and the Dakotas has hit her
o been burned. It is now found to be
aluable for making both binding and
mper pulp.
WHERE WOMEN DO WOOING.
The >fnl<ls of Mornvin, Spain, Snit
cerlnnd nn«l Hannah Select
Their On u SweetlienrtM.
In most countries it is the lads
who do the wooing, the lassies are
wooed. But not everywhere.
Among the gypsies of Moravia, for
instance, none will dare presume to
court a maiden until she has notified
to the young man of her choice her
readiness. This she does by using
a cake as a love letter, baking there
in a coin, and throwing it into his
door at night when he is alone. He,
of course, is not bound to accept.
But if he does it behooves him to be
faithful. The Romany of Hungary
knows naught of breach of promise
suits. Instead, the relations and
friends of the jilted maiden await
upon the inconstant lover, argue
with him, plead with him. Then, if
he still remain obdurate, he is
maimed by a shot in the leg or arm,
says London Tit-Bits.
By recent Romany custom, too, the
slighted girl has the right to be
present and to decree in which of
his limbs he shall be wounded. In
practice, however, she usually elects
to stay away, thereby leaving the
fearful choice to him.
A marriageable Burmese girl, as
soon as she has completed her trous
seau, places in her window the “love
lamp.” and, according to whether
its interjecting beams, carefully di
rected from behind with her own
tiny toilet mirror, shine on this hut
or that, the gallant within knows
that somewhere a lassie’s heart is
inclined toward him.
When one of the cigarmakers of
southern Spain—who constitute a
fecr.jMicii'? lifts uy iiieiiistMves* some*
what analogous to the French gri
sette—casts her eyes lovingly on a
likely lad, she forthwith twists her
powder puff into a pompom for his
hat. If he wears it at the next bull
fight it is considered a match.
The Andalusian peasant girl sends
a pumpkin pie to the particular
swain she affects. If he eats it. well
and good; she is engaged. If not,
she tries elsewhere, pie following pie
until succcess is arrived at.
Swiss maidens go a-w.ooing not al
ways and anyhow, but at stated in
tervals—the eves of the weddings of
their friends. Then is held what is
known as the “feast of the love gar
lands.” All the unmarried girls who
claim acquaintance with either bride
or bridegroom assemble at sunset at
me .mt u i » jiuinc, uam:r, aim
make merry. Then, when the dawn
is gray, they take their departure,
each girl bearing away with her a
posy gavly decked with ribbon.
This she hangs, on the way
home, upon the doorknob of the
house where resides the youth of
her heart's desire; or, alternately,
flings it through the open casement
of his bedchamber. She may select
whom she will on these occasions,
provided she does not stray beyond
the limits of her own canton. For
this latter is, according to Swiss
ideas, unpardonable. Should she be
suspected of it. a straw puppet is left
dancing—presumably as a hint of the
fate that may befall herself—outside
her chamber window; while the
young men of the village whom she
has jointly and severally slighted
conspire together to waylay and
beat the unlucky stranger whose of
fense and misfortune is to have been
the object of her wayward choice.
FOUGHT WITH HIS BRAINS.
Cinnamon Iten r Tlmt D J m pin yed Great
Intelligence in W'ujlnj Iiik
Ills Victims.
The grizzly bear is the biggest,
most powerful and savage of all the
North American wild animals. But
the hunter does not fear him as he
does the crafty, slinking cinnamon
bear, says Pearson’s Weekly.
An almost incredible story of the
miming of the latter animal is told
by a man named Tarberwood, who
was one of a trapping party of five
in the Colorado mountains in the year
18S0.
A cinnamon bear was located near
their camp, and several times they
Iried to kill him, but failed. Then
the brute hid among the bowlders
near the spring, and when the cook
went down to get water, killed him
with one blow of his paw.
After this tragedy tlie party moved
their camp three miles. About mid
night on the first night a timber wolf
was heard howling dismally in a lot
>f rooks 50 yards away. They stoned
liim out, but the second night the
■feature was there again, and howled
50 that they could not sleep.
Stones would not move him, so two
went out with guns. The first man
was—luckily, as it proved—a half
irecd. with a keen sense of smell. He
stole up cautiously to the rocks,
loping to get near enough to shoot
lie disturber, even in the darkness.
The man behind saw him suddely
stop, turn and bolt. “Bear!” he
shouted, as he ran. Tie had smelt
heir cinnamon enemy, who was
crouching behind the nearest rock,
waiting in ambush to kill another of
hem. It seems certain that he must
lave entered into an alliance with
he wolf for the purpose of tempting
vis two-legged foes into his clutches.
Poor PInce for Orphans.
Odessa, a city of 400,000 inhabi
ants. has an orphan asylum at which
-inee 1807 from (>:> to 08 per cent, of
lie infants received each year have
lied. Official investigation showed
hat this frightful rate of mortality
vas tine to unsanitary arrangements
ind the use of poor milk.—N. Y. Post, j
Obscurity.
Obscurity lasts much longer than
fame.—Chicago Daily News.
r
i
w. Lindley Pres. L. T. Slayden Vice Pres. E. V. Holt Cashier.
BANK OF TUCKERMAN,
CAPITAL STOCK $20,000.00
We are open to the public for all business which constitutes safe and re
liable Banking.
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TUCKERHAN - - ARKANSAS.
11 " I
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It traverses a territory rich in
undeveloped resources; a territory
containing unlimited possibilities for
agriculture, horticulture, stock rais
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last, but not least, it is
The Scenic Route
for Tourists.
The Frisco System now offers the i
traveling public excellent service and
fast time—
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City and points in Missouri, Kansas,
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Between Kansas City and points
in Tennessee, Alabama, Mississippi,
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phis and points in Kansas, Arkansas,
Oklahoma, Indian Territory, Texas
and the West and Southwest.
Full information as to route and
rates cheerfully furnished upon appli
cation to any representative of the
Company, or to
Passenger Traffic Department,
Commercial Building,
Saint Louis.
w iinammiiwwnw™n.m
I
JACK HERRON.
Back, again in Newport and
Prepared to do all kinds oi
Brick Work.
Repair Work Promptly
Attended To.
r*
Eupion Oil
When buying illuminating
oil insist on having Eupion, the
family safety. This is a double
distilled process oil that is
odokless and absolutely safe.
If you will use clean burners
and wicks and Eupion Oil you
will have best light obtainable.
The only merchants in Newport
that sell this high-grade oil are
Wolff-Goldman Merc. Co., W.
B. Chastain, Wilmans Bros., R.
D. Wilmans, Heiliger’s Union
Market Co., Martin Bros., Har
ris & Daugherty L. G. DaVaul
and O. M. Bowen.
Waters-Pierce Oil Comp’y
THE BANK OF NEWPORT
OFFICERS AND DIRECTORS.
G.W. Decker, President. A. D. Bailey, Vice-President..
R. M. Johnson, Cashier. T. D. Kinman, Ass’t. Cashier.
V. Y Cook, • Thos. J. Graham, A. E. Siioffner.
Jno. T. Flynn, J. W. Grubbs, Jos. M. Stayton.
This Bank has an authorized
CAPITAL of $100,000.00.
An authorized and subscribed Capital is a convenient thing—
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could have had, just as easily, a Subscribed Capital of
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$58,000.00 OF CASH,' PAID IN CAPITAL and undivided
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orffla,irwlliHHn^namszxmmutm uiiBinihm im b mi ■ rrn
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