Wonders of the World.

"THE OTHERS DREW NEAR AND INSPECTED IT."

"Nobody but Captain Bowers has ever seen the other side," said Mr. Chalk, impressively.

"Except my niece," interposed the captain. "She wanted to see it, and I trust her as I would trust myself. She thinks the same as I do about it."

His stubby forefinger travelled slowly round the coast-line until, coming to the extreme south-west corner, it stopped, and a mischievous smile creased his beard.

"It's buried here," he observed. "All you've got to do is to find the island and dig in that spot."

Mr. Chalk laughed and shook his head as at a choice piece of waggishness.

"Suppose," said Mr. Tredgold, slowly—"suppose anybody found it without your connivance, would you take your share?"

"Let 'em find it first," said the captain.

"Yes, but would you?" inquired Mr. Chalk.

Captain Bowers took up the map and returned it to its place in the bureau. "You go and find it," he said, with a genial smile.

"You give us permission?" demanded Tredgold.

"Certainly," grinned the captain. "I give you permission to go and dig over all the islands in the Pacific; there's a goodish number of them, and it's a fairly common shape."

"It seems to me it's nobody's property,"said Tredgold, slowly. "That is to say, it's anybody's that finds it. It isn't your property, Captain Bowers? You lay no claim to it?"

"No, no," said the captain. "It's nothing to do with me. You go and find it," he repeated, with enjoyment.

Mr. Tredgold laughed too, and his eye travelled mechanically towards the bureau. "If we do," he said, cordially, "you shall have your share."

The captain thanked him and, taking up the bottle, refilled their glasses. Then, catching the dull, brooding eye of Mr. Stobell as that plain-spoken man sat in a brown study trying to separate the serious from the jocular, he drank success to their search. He was about to give vent to further pleasantries when he was stopped by the mysterious behaviour of Mr. Chalk, who, first laying a finger on his lip to ensure silence, frowned severely and nodded at the door leading to the kitchen.

The other three looked in the direction indicated. The door stood half open, and the silhouette of a young woman in a large hat put the upper panels in shadow. The captain rose and, with a vigorous thrust of his foot, closed the door with a bang.

"Eavesdropping," said Mr. Chalk, in a tense whisper.

"There'll be a rival expedition," said the captain, falling in with his mood. "I've already warned that young woman off once. You'd better start to-night."

He leaned back in his chair and surveyed the company pleasantly. Somewhat to Mr. Chalk's disappointment Mr. Tredgold began to discuss agriculture, and they were still on that theme when they rose to depart some time later. Tredgold and Chalk bade the captain a cordial good-night; but Stobell, a creature of primitive impulses, found it difficult to shake hands with him. On the way home he expressed an ardent desire to tell the captain what men of sense thought of him.

The captain lit another pipe after they had gone, and for some time sat smoking and thinking over the events of the evening. Then Mr. Tasker's second infringement of discipline occurred to him, and, stretching out his hand, he rang the bell.

"Has that young woman gone?" he inquired, cautiously, as Mr. Tasker appeared.

"Yessir," was the reply.

"What about your articles?" demanded the captain, with sudden loudness. "What do you mean by it?"

Mr. Tasker eyed him forlornly. "It ain't my fault," he said, at last. "I don't want her."

"Eh?" said the other, sternly. "Don't talk nonsense. What do you have her here for, then?"

"Because I can't help myself," said Mr. Tasker, desperately; "that's why. She's took a fancy to me, and, that being so, it would take more than you and me to keep 'er away."

"Rubbish," said his master.

Mr. Tasker smiled wanly. "That's my reward for being steady," he said, with some bitterness; "that's what comes of having a good name in the place. I get Selina Vickers after me."

"You—you must have asked her to come here in the first place," said the astonished captain.

"Askher?" repeated Mr. Tasker, with respectful scorn. "Askher? She don't want no asking."

"What does she come for, then?" inquired the other.

"Me," said Mr. Tasker, brokenly. "I never dreamt o' such a thing. I was going 'er way one night—about three weeks ago, it was—and I walked with her as far as her road—Mint Street. Somehow it got put about that we were walking out. A week afterwards she saw me in Harris's, the grocer's, and waited outside for me till I come out and walked 'ome with me. After she came in the other night I found we was keeping company. To-night—to-night she got a ring out o' me, and now we're engaged."

"What on earth did you give her the ring for if you don't want her?" inquired the captain, eyeing him with genuine concern.

"Ah, it seems easy, sir," said the unfortunate; "but you don't know Selina. She bought the ring and said I was to pay it off a shilling a week. She took the first shilling to-night."

His master sat back and regarded him in amazement.

"You don't know Selina, sir," repeated Mr. Tasker, in reply to this manifestation. "She always gets her own way. Her father ain't 'it 'er mother not since Selina was seventeen. He dursent. The last time Selina went for him tooth and nail; smashed all the plates off the dresser throwing 'em at him, and ended by chasing of him up the road in his shirt-sleeves."

The captain grunted.

"That was two years ago," continued Mr. Tasker; "and his spirit's quite broke. He 'as to give all his money except a shilling a weekto his wife, and he's not allowed to go into pubs. If he does it's no good, because they won't serve 'im. If they do Selina goes in next morning and gives them a piece of 'er mind. She don't care who's there or what she says, and the consequence is Mr. Vickers can't get served in Binchester for love or money. That'll show you what she is."

"Well, tell her I won't have her here," said the captain, rising. "Good-night."

"I've told her over and over again, sir," was the reply, "and all she says is she's not afraid of you, nor six like you."

The captain fell back silent, and Mr. Tasker, pausing in a respectful attitude, watched him wistfully. The captain's brows were bent in thought, and Mr. Tasker, reminding himself that crews had trembled at his nod and that all were silent when he spoke, felt a flutter of hope.

"Well," said the captain, sharply, as he turned and caught sight of him, "what are you waiting there for?"

Mr. Tasker drifted towards the door which led upstairs.

"I—I thought you were thinking of something we could do to prevent her coming, sir," he said, slowly. "It's hard on me, because as a matter of fact——"

"ALL SHE SAYS IS SHE'S NOT AFRAID OF YOU, NOR SIX LIKE YOU."

"Well?" said the captain.

"I—I've 'ad my eye on another young lady for some time," concluded Mr. Tasker.

He was standing on the bottom stair as he spoke, with his hand on the latch. Under the baleful stare with which the indignant captain favoured him, he closed it softly and mounted heavily to bed.

(To be continued.)

Afghan Beast FablesIllustrated By J. A. Shepherd.

Illustrated By J. A. Shepherd.

LLikeother peoples the world over, the Afghans use the beast fable to point morals and illustrate rules of conduct. Perhaps the moral is not invariably such as commends itself to Western standards, and the methods applauded are sometimes not such as would make for popularity in more civilized circles. But what would you? The characteristics of a race colour its literature, and the more homely the literature the clearer the colouring. Hence the Afghan beast fable more frequently than not reflects the respectful admiration accorded the successful exercise of craft and cunning, for which self-helpful qualities the dwellers on the other side of the North-Western Frontier of India are famed.

Soldiers who are acquainted with Afghan usages in warfare will appreciate the truth of the maxim which furnishes the text for the story of the Camel-rider, the Snake, and the Fox. A man riding on his camel happened to pass a place where a jungle fire was raging, and a snake, calling from the midst of the flames, begged his aid. The man, ignoring the snake's enmity to the human race and considering only his present danger, consented to save him: he lowered his saddle-bag to the ground, and the snake, having coiled himself up in it, was carried by his rescuer to a place of safety. Then the man opened his bag and bade the snake go, with an admonition to behave better towards mankind for the future. The snake made answer, "Until I have stung thee and this camel of thine I will not depart!"

"UNTIL I HAVE STUNG THEE AND THIS CAMEL OF THINE I WILL NOT DEPART."

The man, hurt by this black ingratitude, drew the snake's attention to the service he had just rendered. The snake admitted his debt, but pointed out that his rescuer had acted injudiciously, in view of the hereditary enmity existing between snakes and men. The two proceeded to argue the point in commendably temperate spirit, the snake laying stress on the circumstance thatmankind "always return evil for good"; and the man, denying it, eventually agreed that if the snake could find a witness to the truth of his assertion he would submit to be stung.

"'IT IS STRANGE THAT THOU IN MY VERY PRESENCE TALKEST OF "I" AND "MINE,"' SAID THE TIGER."

The witness was found in the person of an elderly cow-buffalo. Examined by the snake, she succinctly reviewed her career, and gave it as her opinion that man's creed was to return evil for good, inasmuch as her owner, when she ceased to give milk, turned her out to graze till she should be fat enough to kill. Upon this testimony the snake claimed fulfilment of the bargain. The man, however, urged that two witnesses were necessary, and, the snake consenting, a tree was called upon for his opinion. The tree, in a few well-chosen sentences, recalled the fact that for years he had granted shade to all men who sought his protection in the heat of day; but, he complained, when they had rested they always looked him over and, if they happened to have tools, lopped off a branch to make a spade-handle or axe-haft. They went even further, reckoning up the use they could make of their protector from the scorching sun if they reduced him to planks. In short, the tree was distinctly of the cow-buffalo's way of thinking. The camel-man, sorely perplexed, was wondering how he could gain time when a fox came by and asked, in his sarcastic way, "What kindness hast thou shown this snake, that he desires to do thee harm?"

Having heard the story the fox refused to believe it; the bag was small, and he was sure so large a snake could not get into it. Of course, the snake had no alternative but to show that he could; so the fox obligingly held the bag open for him, and when he was fairly entrapped handed him over to the man to kill. "A wise man should not be gulled by the cries for mercy of his foes; otherwise he will fall into misfortune," is the suggestive moral. It does not say much for Afghan principle, does it?

The fox, as ever, serves the Afghan fabulist for the personification of cunning and ingenuity. The tale of the Tiger, the Wolf, and the Fox exhibits the last-named in the character of the discreet and sagacious courtier. These three animals one day went hunting together, and having killed a wild hill-goat, a deer, and a hare, took them home to the tiger's den to eat. Having settled themselves comfortably, the tiger requested the wolf to divide the game as he thought fit; whereupon the wolf allotted the hill-goat as the biggest to the tiger, the deer to himself, and the hare to the fox. "It is strange that thou in my very presence talkest of 'I' and 'mine,'" said the tiger. "Who and what art thou, and what opinion hast thou of me?" and raising his paw he struck the wolf dead on the spot. Then he turned to the fox and requested him to divide the spoil. The fox instantly replied that the hill-goat would do for his Majesty's breakfast, the deer would serve for his Majesty's dinner at noon, and, of course, the hare must be reserved for his Majesty's supper. "And from whom," said the tiger, with well-feigned curiosity, "didst thou learn this mode of distribution and this sagacity?"

The fox replied that he was one who took warning from the fate of others. The tiger (who could not have been very hungry) expounded his own idea of justice, which was that the sagacious fox should have the whole bag of game while the tiger got more for himself; "and after this I will do whateverthou tellest me." A significant hint that physical strength does wisely to profit by the craft of the weaker. A fable closely resembling this, but in which, of course, the lion takes the part here played by the tiger, is current among some North African tribes.

One of the cleverest tales is that of the Merchant and his Parrot, which illustrates the great Afghan maxim that you can procure by craft what you can procure by no other means. A certain merchant, says the fable, was about to make a journey south into India. Before setting out he assembled his family and requested each member to name the gift he or she would like brought home. Last of all he asked the parrot, who was a native of Hindustan, what he could do for him in that country. The parrot at once begged him to visit a certain forest, where some more parrots would probably be found. "Give them my compliments and tell them that such and such a parrot, who is a friend of theirs, is confined in a cage in your house and says, 'This is a strange friendship, that I should be in bondage while you, quite unconcerned for my fate, flit hither and thither.' Now, whatever reply they give," said the parrot, "deliver it to me." The merchant punctually fulfilled his promise. He found the forest and the parrots and gave his parrot's message; and having done so was distressed to observe that one of the birds was so profoundly affected that, after a spasm of trembling and fluttering, he fell lifeless to the ground.

"AFTER A SPASM OF TREMBLING AND FLUTTERING, HE FELL LIFELESS TO THE GROUND."

On his return home, after he had distributed the presents he had brought among his family, his parrot inquired whether he had not something to say to him. The merchant, fearful of grieving the bird, fenced with the question, but when the parrot grew huffy and told him he need not speak if he did not choose he relented, and with many expressions of regret told the fatal consequences of delivering the message. When the parrot heard of the death of his friend he, too, was seized with flutterings and shiverings, and then and there fell dead from his perch. The merchant shed tears over him and, after great lamentation, threw the body out of the cage. No sooner did the parrot touch the ground, however, than he came to life again and flew on to the top of the house; and the merchant, staring in amazement, asked for explanations. The parrot thereupon explained that his friend had sent this message: "Pretend to be dead and thou wilt get free."

"Now I, of course, understood his meaning from what thou saidst," added the parrot, "so I gained my freedom. I now ask thee, as I have eaten thy salt"—mark the punctilious courtesy of parrots educated in Afghan homes—"to forgive me. Good-bye."

"I forgive thee," said the crestfallen merchant. "God preserve thee." And the parrot went his way, saying, "Peace be with thee."

As we might expect of an animal so feared and hated, the tiger never figures in fable as heroic, but always as a stupid, blustering bully, to be outwitted by any creature, however weak, who has a little cunning. The tale of the Tiger and the Jackal is a good example. A tiger who, exercising a liberty of choice unknown to natural history, had engaged a female monkey as his companion and housekeeper, went out one day on business, enjoining the monkey to stay at home and let nobody enter the house.

By-and-by there came a jackal with his wife and family, house-hunting. Mr. Jackal, impressed at first sight with the eligibility of the tiger's premises, forthwith entered and took possession, ignoring the protests and warnings of the monkey housekeeper.Mrs. Jackal would have had her husband leave, but he refused; and while they argued the tiger was heard approaching. The monkey hastened to meet him and tell what had happened; but the tiger could not bring himself to believe that a jackal would be so reckless and insolent as to take possession of his house. "It must be some other horrid creature," he said. And though the monkey protested that she knew a jackal when she saw one, the tiger could not credit her story. Meantime the jackal had arranged his plans. When the tiger drew near his house he heard the little jackals crying and Mrs. Jackal say to her husband, "They want tiger's meat," and Mr. Jackal's reply: "It was only yesterday I killed an enormous tiger. Has the meat been finished already? Nonsense!"

"ONCE MORE THE TIGER VENTURED NEAR ENOUGH TO HEAR THE YOUNG JACKALS CRYING."

Mrs. Jackal explained that her children wanted fresh meat, and Mr. Jackal then told the cubs to wait a little. "A great big tiger will come presently, and I will kill him, and you shall have fresh meat."

When the tiger overheard this he was terrified and ran away, but the monkey, following him, contrived to allay his fears, explaining that the jackals were fooling him, and persuaded him to come back. Once more the tiger ventured near enough to hear the young jackals crying, but this time he also hears their father say to them, soothingly:—

"That monkey, who is a great friend of mine, has told me that she would, without fail, bring me a tiger to-day."

Whereupon the tiger, only pausing to strike the unfortunate monkey dead, fled without once looking behind him.

"THE TIGER FLED WITHOUT ONCE LOOKING BEHIND HIM."

Another tale shows the tiger victimized by the cunning of the hare. In this fable the tiger discovers quite remarkable skill in debate; he discourses eloquently on the dignity of labour to justify his depredations in the jungle, and only after prolonged discussion with the beasts does heconsent to their proposal that he shall stay at home and they provide him with a daily victim. For a time all goes smoothly; then the hare's turn comes and she objects, saying, "How long is this oppression to last?" The other beasts cry out upon her for wishing to break the agreement, and are only half satisfied when the hare hints that she has a plan for making an end of the tiger. They wish to know what it is; but the hare in reply quotes a saying which, by the way, sheds significant light on the insecurity of travellers' lives and property in Afghanistan. "Three matters," she reminds them, "are best concealed: first, one's money; second, the time one intends to start on a journey; third, the road one intends to take."

In a word, she keeps her own counsel and starts so late for the tiger's den that that animal grows hungry and—there is a good deal of human nature in tigers—very angry at the delay of his dinner. When the hare, apparently in a great hurry, arrived the tiger abused her vehemently, and with difficulty is induced to hear her explanation. She and a friend, she says, were on their way to him when they met another tiger who seized them; she warned their captor that they were set apart for the service of their own king, but the strange tiger threatened to tear their king to pieces. At length, said the hare, she persuaded the strange tiger to grant her respite that she might come and explain matters; and she had been granted this favour, leaving her friend in his clutches.

"Do not expect any more victims," she concluded. "The road hither is closed by that tiger. If thou desirest thy daily food, go at once and clear the road."

"THE TIGER BESIDE HIMSELF WITH RAGE."

At this the tiger, beside himself with rage, jumps up, calling on the hare to come and show where his rival is, and the hare obediently follows, until they come in sight of a well by the road. There she lags behind; she is frightened to death. Cannot the tiger see how pale she is? Nothing will induce her to go near that well, for therein is hiding the other tiger, who holds her friend captive. The tiger insists that she shall come and point out the other tiger. Well, the hare will do so on condition that his Majesty holds her in his arms. He does so, and, peeping into the water, sees their reflection in the water below; whereupon he sets the hare down, and springing into the well to fall upon his enemy is drowned.

A story that seems familiar is that of the friendship of the frog and the rat. These two conceived so deep a regard for one another that they were miserable apart: the rat, more particularly, bewailed the facts that she only saw the frog once a day, and that he, being in the stream, could not hear her when she called. The frog, whose attachment appears not wholly to have obscured his native good sense, pointed out that "if friends see each other occasionally only their affection is the greater," to which argument, albeit undeniable, the rat objected that in their case some means of establishing closer communication were indispensable.

The frog gave way, and the two agreed to tie the ends of a string to a leg of each, so that when one wanted to see the other all he or she need do was to pull the string. Other frogs came around and pointed out the obvious objections to supplementing the bonds of their affection with string, but neither would listen.

"It is all right," they said; "if we die together, so much the better"; and so they tied themselves as they had arranged. And one day came a kite, who pounced upon the rat, who could not escape because he tripped in the string; and the kite, carrying away the rat, carried away the frog at the other end of the string. And the dying moments of the frog were embittered by hearing the villagersapplaud the cleverness of a kite who could catch frogs; whereas he knew the kite had done nothing clever, but that he himself had done something very foolish.

"IF WE DIE TOGETHER, SO MUCH THE BETTER."

Another tale exhibits the helpless old tiger dependent for his daily fare on the cunning of his humble follower the fox, and insists upon the stupidity of the ass. The tiger was so old and decrepit that he could not hunt for himself, and he appealed to an elderly vixen, who was also hungry, to lure an ox or some other beast within his reach. The vixen willingly assents, and searching the country finds an ass feeding. Him she accosts with respectful sympathy, asking why he grazes on such poor pasture. The ass, who, by the way, is deplorably long-winded, replies by giving the vixen a lecture on the propriety of contentment with one's lot.

"HE APPEALED TO AN ELDERLY VIXEN."

The vixen listens patiently and replies, Eastern fashion, with a brief parable, whose moral is that those who can help themselves to the good things of life should do so. The vixen's parable reminds the ass of another rather like it, but very much longer and pointing a different moral; he relates it with circumstance and detail. After much argument the vixen loses patience, and upbraiding the ass for his want of enterprise describes in graphic language the attractions of certain pasture known to her; and the ass, his hopes getting the better of his discretion, follows, till they come within eye range of the tiger.

The tiger, being very hungry, cannot wait till the ass comes within reach; he rushes out prematurely and frightens the ass away. This precipitation on the tiger's part gives rise to unpleasantness. The vixen, naturally enough, is furiously angry at the way her scheme has been upset after all the troubleshe has had with the argumentative ass, and she speaks her mind freely to the tiger. He apologizes, and the vixen consents to try and bring the prey within reach again. In fine, she out-argues the foolish ass and eventually brings him to her patron.

"SHE SPEAKS HER MIND FREELY TO THE TIGER."

The story of the Cock and Hawk furnishes a caution against talking about things we don't understand. These two were great friends and spent much time together. One day the hawk, in didactic mood, took the cock to task for the shameful ingratitude of his race; men fed fowls on all kinds of luxuries, and cared for them carefully, and yet never did fowl see a man approach but it ran away. Now the hawk, on the other hand, repaid captivity and cruelties with the utmost gratitude, catching and killing game to order. When the cock heard his friend's views he was so amused that he nearly dropped with laughing. The hawk, rather stiffly, inquires what he has said that the cock should be so overcome with amusement; and, being reminded that men only feed fowls in order to kill and eat them, confesses that this most important detail had never struck him.

It is curious to observe that all the Afghan beast fables are distinguished by the same quality of sardonic humour, but they have this great merit, that they never fail to drive home the moral.

"HE WAS SO AMUSED THAT HE NEARLY DROPPED."

A GENERAL VIEW OF THE SALTO MONOCYCLE TRACK.From a Photo. by Rochlitz.

A GENERAL VIEW OF THE SALTO MONOCYCLE TRACK.

From a Photo. by Rochlitz.

LXIX.—A NEW "LOOPING THE LOOP."

TThereseems to be no finality in the art of invention, whether it be in commerce, technology, science, art, or even in connection with the variety-stage. In the last-named case the struggle for supremacy is exceedingly keen, and requires, more than in other professions, untiring perseverance, courage, and intelligence if one wishes to obtain a place on the "roll of fame."

In the theatre or in the music-hall the public only see the glittering outside appearance, and applaud the attractive items of an artist without thinking of how much work and trouble it has cost him to be able to execute his performance without apparent effort and with extreme perfection. Such a sensational performance will soon be seen in a Berlin circus—a new kind of "Looping the Loop"—"The ride on the Salto Monocycle Track," as the audacious artist calls it, and with whom we are going to make our readers acquainted.

MR. ECLAIR FASTENED BY THE WAIST, ANKLES, AND HEAD INSIDE THE WHEEL WHICH LOOPS THE LOOP.From a Photo. by Rochlitz.

MR. ECLAIR FASTENED BY THE WAIST, ANKLES, AND HEAD INSIDE THE WHEEL WHICH LOOPS THE LOOP.

From a Photo. by Rochlitz.

This sensational act consists in the artist being rolled in a wheel, measuring six and a half feet in diameter and eighteen inches wide, along a track in the form of a loop. Our first two illustrations give a clearer idea than can be given in words.

Mr. Eclair—the artist's name—has had his track made by Mr. A. Klose, Schiffbauerdamm, and practised in the so-called training-wheel for the pastfifteen weeks before he undertook his first journey. In this training-wheel he accustomed himself to the revolutions of the wheel. This was all the more necessary, as he found on practising that, in consequence of the rapid revolutions, the small veins and other blood-vessels in the neck and head became swollen—so much so that a journey in the "loop" without previous experience would certainly, in his opinion, have been fatal.

PRACTISING IN THE TRAINING-WHEEL.From a Photo. by Rochlitz.

PRACTISING IN THE TRAINING-WHEEL.

From a Photo. by Rochlitz.

After the perfect construction of the track had been ascertained by thorough tests—amongst which heavy waggon-wheels were caused to be rolled along the track—Mr. Eclair at length took his first ride. It was a ride for life or death. Nobody could foresee what the result would be. Luck favoured the venturesome artist, and his success was acclaimed with joy and satisfaction by all the interested beholders, so smoothly and faultlessly did the performance end. Such was the birth of a new sensational circus feat! And a second ride which Mr. Eclair soon afterwards took turned out equally successful.

The track slopes from a platform about fifteen yards high down into the "loop." It must be understood that this is not a real loop, such as, for example, Mündner uses, but is so constructed that the fearless rider rushes in his wheel down the slope, entering the ring by a trap-door, so that the wheel rolls round it. This heavy wheel, which weighs five hundredweight, flies up the track with a terrific momentum, and, in consequence of its centrifugal force, presses against the track with a force of seventeen times its own weight.

When the wheel has passed the highest point of the loop it flies down the other side, and leaves the loop again by another trap-door which has in the meantime been opened. The downward movement, being still very rapid at the point of exit, is then retarded by means of outlet-rails which adjust themselves exactly to the wheel, and the mad ride ends at length in a net.

The track has a total length of about sixty-five yards, inclusive of loop and exit. The loop is about twenty-four feet high. The wheel rolls in a mould-shaped groove. The slightest mistake in the construction of the track, which is an extremely ingenious one, would result in an unsuccessful performance and a dangerous, if not deadly, fall. Especially ingenious is the mechanism of the trap-doors at the entrance and exit. These are in charge of the artist's colleague, and form the most important part of the track, as any failure in this part would end in dire catastrophe.

LXX.—A BONFIRE OF GAMBLING APPARATUS.

The Anti-Gambling Leagues of British cities have their counterpart in the various Law and Order Societies of American municipalities, and their labours are much the same. Just as the societies in England attempt to protect the poor and middle-class people from the encroachments of vice by initiating prosecutions against wrong-doers, so do these Law and Order Societies fight in the interests of the American public. They go to excesses sometimes, it is true, but their labours have a positive value for good. In England they keep an eye upon the book-maker in the street, upon the sporting tipster with his betting circulars and notices, and upon gambling in general. They prosecute where prosecution is needed, and carry on in Parliament a fight for virtue.

Never, however, have they prepared a fire for the benefit of their supporters such as theLaw and Order Society of Philadelphia got up last May. It is, perhaps, not wholly correct to say that when the Philadelphia Society seized and burned over thirteen hundred gambling machines in a public place it did so merely for the benefit of its followers, but that was practically the case, and among those who saw this unique conflagration there were none more interested than the crusaders against vice. It was an actual destruction of valuable property, but not a wanton one, and when the fire was over the charred metal and molten tin represented a sum of not less than one hundred and thirty thousand dollars. We doubt if England has ever had the privilege of witnessing such a sight, for the vested right of the Briton is too sacred to permit of his property being done away with in such brilliant manner.

WAGGONS UNLOADING GAMBLING MACHINES TO FORM THE BONFIRE.From a Photo.

WAGGONS UNLOADING GAMBLING MACHINES TO FORM THE BONFIRE.

From a Photo.

The reason for the fire was the abnormal growth in Philadelphia of the penny-in-the-slot gambling machine, owing to its fascination for the young and its asserted protection by careless or corrupt municipal government. The machines—some of them very elaborate, costing from three hundred to six hundred dollars each—were nothing but "money-machines," automatic gamblers of the most hardened sort. If the player dropped any sum, from five cents to twenty-five cents, into the slot, he stood a chance to win about ten times as much as he put in, and the prospect of such a huge percentage upon a small investment fascinated poor people and boys and girls alike. One boy was known to have lost as much as three hundred and fifty dollars in a week through this form of gambling, having resorted to theft in order to obtain the wherewithal to gamble.

"For four years," writes Mr. D. Clarence Gibboney, the secretary of the Law and Order Society of Philadelphia, "our city was cursed with thousands of these conscienceless gambling devices. The authorities protected them, and our citizens were almost helpless. Fathers and mothers stood by, unable to do much more than make a feeble protest, while their sons and daughters were turned into gamblers.

THE FIRE IN FULL BLAZE.From a Photo.

THE FIRE IN FULL BLAZE.

From a Photo.

"This society took hold of the situation and, in face of very determined opposition, arrested many of the owners and keepers of the machines in 1902, andin December burned a hundred and ninety-six machines, valued at about twenty thousand dollars. The police, however, supported the gambling people, and it was not until after January 1st, 1903, that we were able to wipe the entire business out of the city.

"A new mayor was elected, and he immediately forced the police to aid us. The police seized five hundred machines and we, through our own constables, seized over eight hundred others between January 1st and May 10th, 1903. On May 19th the entire lot was burned, the police and the Law and Order Society joining in the work of destruction. Not a machine that we know of exists in this city to-day."

LXXI.—A BANQUET IN A WATER-PIPE.

In the middle of October last a banquet was served to the League of Iowa Municipalities, at Waterloo, Iowa, which, so far as we know, has no duplicate in the history of gastronomy. It was in every way the most successful gathering of the sort that ever took place in this enterprising city of the West, and the novelty of the affair drew public notice from near and far.

A FLOODED STREET IN WATERLOO, IOWA, WHERE THE GREAT DRAIN WAS CONSTRUCTED.From a Photo.

A FLOODED STREET IN WATERLOO, IOWA, WHERE THE GREAT DRAIN WAS CONSTRUCTED.

From a Photo.

The table was spread in a sewer constructed by the city to carry off the surplus water which at different periods of heavy rains had threatened the existence of the place with damaging floods. The name by which this work of engineering is known—the Dry Run Sewer—recalls to many the story of an innocent little stream running through the principal business and residence section of the city, a stream which in its driest day would attract little attention from a passer-by. Unfortunately, however, for the inhabitants the Dry Run has frequently become very wet. Within the past seven years, on three different occasions it has flooded the entire western portion of the city, causing a property loss of many thousands and endangering the lives of the inhabitants. In 1902 it was flooded twice within twenty days. It rose on July 3rd at the rate of ten feet within five minutes, and on July 23rd ambitiously repeated the same perilous feat.

The citizens of Waterloo, at the head of whom stood Mr. P. J. Martin, the mayor, now concluded that this recurring danger should be met by heroic measures, and a flood-sewer, twelve feet by twelve feet in width and height, and three thousand four hundred feet long, was planned at a cost of about one hundred thousand dollars. To many the project appeared impossible of completion, owing to the peculiar situation of Dry Run, but the difficulties in the way did not daunt the Iowa engineers. Hundreds of men were put upon the work of excavation and construction, under the charge of contractor William Horrabin, of Iowa City, and the giant structure rapidly took the permanent form which we see in our photographs. Our illustration of the entrance to the sewer unfortunately does not suggest the size of it, but when we say that a man could walk through this sewer easily carrying another upright on his head, we may fairly suggest the height of the arch. Some thirteen thousand barrels of cement and over thirty-two million pounds of sand and rock were used in the construction, and nearly one million cubic feet of dirt were excavated. The side walls of the sewer are vertical for six feet,and the base is at present about fifteen feet below the level of the street.

A SECTION OF THE DRAIN-PIPE.From a Photo.

A SECTION OF THE DRAIN-PIPE.

From a Photo.

With the completion of the largest work of the kind ever undertaken by an Iowa municipality, satisfaction took the place of unrest in the feelings of the citizens. The manufacturers were able to leave their places of business without fear of catastrophe behind them, and the residents could now go to bed at night without dread of a flood-warning from the fire bell. In fact, the relief was so widespread that it was deemed fitting by the mayor and aldermen that the completion of the sewer should be signalized by a great banquet, to which the mayors and representative citizens of other towns should be invited.

THE TABLE LAID FOR THE BANQUET INSIDE THE DRAIN-PIPE.From a Photo.

THE TABLE LAID FOR THE BANQUET INSIDE THE DRAIN-PIPE.

From a Photo.

The happy thought now occurred to theWaterloo Times and Tribuneof holding this banquet, not in an hotel, but in the sewer itself, and the project was carried out with enthusiasm. This meant, of course, unusual effort on the part of those in charge, but all obstacles were easily surmounted, and on the night of October 16th that part of the city which, little more than a year before, had been the bed of a raging torrent was turned by engineering and culinary magic into a banqueting-hall of security and light. The tables were laid along the floor of the sewer over four hundred feet of its length, and on both sides of this table, with plenty of room in which to move, sat the best-known citizens of the State. Simple but pretty decorations hung in festoons from the archway and on the side walls gleamed rows of electric lights. Mayor Martin acted as toast-master, and the programme of toasts lasted an hour and a half. As if to suggest a danger happily past the rain was falling outside, but no fear of flood troubled the gathering. The banquet was as successful as the construction of the sewer itself, and those who were privileged on this memorable occasion to partake of Dry Run punch drank it with a special gusto. This little joke of the caterer was duly appreciated. The dessert was as happily chosen, for it ended with Roquefort and "water crackers."

LXXII.—AN ANTI-COLLISION TRAIN.

Even in this age of wonders no one would have expected to experience a railway collision without the usual horrors of a smash-up, yet that is the feature of one of the latest wonders of inventive genius. An electrical engineer of New York, Mr. P. K. Stern, has just come forward with such a contrivance.

His system is remarkable chiefly for the daring conception which it expresses and for the exceptional skill shown in devising mechanism absolutely safe in its operation.

A CAR PASSING OVER ANOTHER ON THE ANTI-COLLISION RAILWAY.From a Photo.

A CAR PASSING OVER ANOTHER ON THE ANTI-COLLISION RAILWAY.

From a Photo.

A single track is used, on which railway-cars are caused to travel. Two cars are rushing towards each other at a speed of twenty-five miles an hour, so that a collision would, under ordinary conditions, be inevitable, when suddenly one of the cars runs, not into, but over the top of the other and lands on the track on the other side, where it continues in perfect safety to its destination. The underneath car has proceeded as if nothing had happened.

The cars, although they run upon wheels, are really travelling bridges, with overhanging compartments for the accommodation of passengers. Over the framed structure of the cars thus constituted an arched track is carried, securely fastened to the car and serving the purpose of providing a road-bed for the colliding car. This superimposed track is built in accordance with well-understood principles of bridge construction.

The passengers find accommodation in the cars arranged along each side of the travelling structure. The cars run at a speed of about ten to fifteen miles an hour, and are caused to collide at about eight miles an hour, which is quite sufficient for amusement purposes. The principle upon which these cars are constructed renders it impossible for one to crush the other while going over it.

In this device the speed of the cars is immaterial. One car may be moving very slowly—such as is the case sometimes in crowded streets—and the overtaking car, when meeting with obstructions, though it may be in close proximity, can go straight ahead just as though nothing had happened. In fact, automobiles and carts can go over the cars just as though they were mounting a gradual incline or small hill.

In cases of street locomotion there is a fender effect for the safety of people crossing the streets, which picks the person up and lands him down on the other side unhurt.

A great deal might be done with a system of this character, and Mr. Stern's next work will be a careful study on the lines of carrying freight, as he believes that a single line of railway may be duplexed in this manner, and thus enable more business to be carried on than by the ordinary railroad having two tracks.

Back to Index Next