Richmond Hill Public Library News Index

The Liberal, 25 Apr 1901, p. 7

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The Tragedy of St. Mark’s Steeple. (Do you know, sir, I can never look at that steeple without turning cold all over, although it‘s nearly forty years since it happenedâ€"and the old man pointed towards the distant city, ,where the tall, slender spire of St. Mark’s, rising higher than the rest ,was silhouetted against the glow of the setting sun, whose last rays made the gilded vane on the summit burn as with fire. It’s forty years since, he continued: but it might have been yesterday, so vivid is the horror of it; but come in- side, and I'll tell you all about it. She was young enough then, and as bonny a girl as there was in all dVarwickshire, which I don‘t think there was a plainer, more awkward lad than myself in the whole county. But I loved therâ€"as a dozen others did â€"only I don't think they could ever have loved her quite as I did; and, if I wasn‘t a beauty. I had muscles of iron and nerves of steel, and “Steeple- jack Jim," was known for fifty miles round. t She ’would never let on that she cared for me; she was too artful puss for that, but I thought [had a chance, and I went for it for all I was worth. She used to drive me mad with jealousy, flirting with this man and smiling on that, until I could have killed the whole lot. But Inevâ€" erlet her see it; I was much too deep for that. Only let a girl :know you're jealous and she’ll make your life aâ€"well a torâ€" ment, just for the love of teasing and showing her power on you. I always came up smiling; and she couldn’t un- derstand it; but it conquered her in the end; and for nearly forty years, bless her, she‘s been the sweetest,most loyal wife a man ever had. But this is an old story, you say; and so it is, 'out still it’s always newâ€" amd I’ll get on to the tragedy quite Soon enough. The only man I was really afraid of ,was my partner Jackâ€"Jack Harding â€"â€"as fine a young fellow as you ever saw in your life, tall and straight as a lath; and with” a face like a young god; but he was a bit inclined to be wild, and that’s afatal thing in my line. Ruth was fonder of him than of all the othersâ€"what girl could help it iâ€"and if he’d only played his cards Well, he might have had her, without giving any of us a look in. But jealousy! W'hy, my worst at- tacks were» mildness itself compared with Jack'sâ€"and he couldn't conceal them as I did. He had some Spanish blood in his veins, I always thoughtâ€" he looked like a Spaniardâ€"and if she even smiled at another man his eyes flashed as if he would strike them both dead; and more than onCe he lost his temper, and said things to her that no girl would standdeast of all Ruth. “Veil, to come to the point, I soon saw that the prize rested between him and me; and though I thought my chance was Ismail enough, I wasn‘t go- ing to lose her for want of asking. [If I live to be a hundred Ishall al- ways remember that evening when I asked heir if I had a chance, and if she could marry a clumsy, ugly man like me. “ Chance ?" shesaid, as she looked up at me roguishly out of her blue eyes. “ Why, Jim, you donkey, you've got every chance, and .if you hadn’t been blind you‘d have seen it months ago," and then she laughed, a kind of hysterical laugh, and hid her blushes on my shoulder. .‘Vell, sir, if she‘d knocked me down I couldn‘t have been more surprisedâ€" it was all so sudden and unexpected; but I had the presence of mind to put my arm round her and to draw her face up to mine and kiss it; and thenâ€"why sir, there wasn‘t a man in England half as happy as me. "But what about Jack ‘2" I said, when I'd come to a bit. "About Jack l" she said, archly; " well, when you say you're tired of me, I'll begin to think about himâ€"if I live long enough." M'hen Jack heard of .it he went mad â€"-clean madâ€"swore the would kill us both, and flung himself into a wild orgie of drink and dissipation. I saw next to nothing of him for weeks, and when we met he passed on the other side of the road, without lookâ€" ing at me. Of course I was sorry for him, but it was the luck of war, or rather of love, and I had played my cards honourably ; while I was far too busily and happily occupied to have any fears for what he might do to me. Then one day he seemed completely changed; came to me with an out- stretched hand and asked any pardon saying that I'd won fairly, and wish- ing me luck. But somehow I didn’t like the looks of him, and didn‘t trust hi!) i, and I had good ground for my fi’kft'ust, as I was soon to prove. Durâ€" tug his drinking bout I had to hire an assistant for any job that came my way; but when he offered to join me again I took him on just as if noth- ing had happened. My little girl was very nervous about me now that I was so much to her, and begged me to give up- steepleâ€"elin‘lbini;r and work on solid ground; but there is more money in the air, for me, at any rate; and as I wanted to save for that little nest ihad in view, I thought I would stick to my steeples a little longer. a his life and nearly cost me mineâ€"rcâ€" gilding the vane on the top of St. Mark‘s steeple. How well I remem- ber that morning, a bright, fresh morningr in May, when everythingâ€"my heart includedâ€"seemed to dance for joy of living and loving. I found time to run round to Ken my little girl be- fore beginning work, and found her sad and tearful. [She had dreamt the previous night that she lHHV me fighting with a man in midâ€"air, and then all at once I fell down, and struck the earth with a sickening thud at her very feet. "Don't go 10-day, Jim," she pleaded as the tears chased each other down her cheeks; “I know (something will happen to you." In vain I argued and chuffed, and when at last I tore myself away with a promise to run in in the evcniug, she covered her face with her hands and stood motionless at the. door till I was out of sight, as if shutting some horrid l'pectacle from her eyes. Jack was specially choeirful when I joined himâ€"too gay, I thought, as I saw the reckless light in his eyes, and thought he had been drinking. “ You lucky dog," he said, as he slapped me on the shoulder. "You‘ve been to see Ruth, I know;. and her kiss is warm on your lips. Ah, well, I shall have my turn of luck some dayâ€"maybe sooner than you think!" "I hope so, too, my lad,” I said, sympathetically, as we set. to work; “and the sooner the better." A few hours later we were suspend- ed, one on each side of the. steeple, a couple of hundred. feet. above the pig- mies that were crawling beneath us. M’e were both busy as we could be, gilding the ball from which the vane sprangâ€"Jack on one side and me on the other. Each of us was standing on a tiny platform, little larger than the seat of a chair, with a sheer, dizzy drop of nearly neventy yards beneath us; and each, for additional safety, was attached to the steeple ‘by a life-line running under 'his arms. Jack had not spoken a word for nearly an hour; but I thought nothâ€" ing of that, as we were working against time, and the darkness was beginning already to creep over the sky. You know when you're work- ing at that height, removed as it were from all the world, and with noth- ing but silence above and around you, the slightest noise sends a shock through a man, however strong his nerves may be. You can imagine then, how start- lerd I was when all at once I heard a loud shriek of laughter, almost as it seemed at my very ear. There was something uncanny about it, too,that set my heart thumping and my flesh cireeping as they had never done beâ€" fore, or since. “'hen the laugh ceased and sil- ence came again as an awful relief I said: " \Vhat’s the joke, Jack? Don't keep it to yourself." - " Joke l" he said, "I should think it would be a joke. I was fancying you shooting down like a stone to the pavement down there, and what Ruth would think when she saw the pieces." " \Vhat a. rummy idea l” I answered, with affected coolness, though my heart was beating faster than ever, and seemed as if it would suffocate me. “But I'm. 'going down a little slower than that as soon as I’ve fin- ished this bit of work. But pull yourâ€" self together, Jack, and lget your gold on, and then we’lltsoon be down there on our two legs.” "No, sirl" he shouted, "I’m going to have a race. with you to the bot- tom, and who ever gets there first Ruth can 'have. Come. on; now for a junp together." iAS he said this he craned his head round the corner of the steeple to get a look at me, and a single glance at his wild eyes showed me that the man was raving mad, and that I was alone in midâ€"air with a maniac. who hated me and would certainly kill me if he could. I was powerless. If I called for help Imight be heard, but who could come to my assistance poised as I was at such a giddy height above the world? And in a single moment I might be In the th as oEa lif â€":nd-death strug- gle with a man quite as strong as myself and made ten times stronger by madness. He was Blowly and surely working round towards me, and there was not a moment to waste. Something must be done Quickly, and everything deâ€" pended on keeping cool. In a moment I had eased the hitch of the line round my hand, and was swinging round to meet him. Before he had time to pro- tect himself I had seized him bythe throat and had forced him down on his saddle~board. But it was only for a moment. for, strong as I was, my strength was as a child’s compared with his. wrench he was free, and had flung his powerful arms around my chest and was squeezing the very life out of me. In vain I struggled, as we swung backward and forward against the face of the steeple. I tried to call out, but my voice stuck in my throat, my eyes felt as if they were being forced out of my head, and my breath came in convulsive gasps. All the time. amid the horrible silenco, brok- en only by the creaking of the ropes and the grating of the saddle against the steeple, his eyes were glaring in« to mine and his hot breath was on my face. I felt my senses rapidly leaving me, when my hand, by accident struck my tool~box and instinctively as it were. clutched a wrench. \K'ith a last effort I raised my ‘hand, struck him with all my remaining strength full on the templeâ€"and then I remembered no more. M'hen I came to myself I was lying in bed, and But ‘5 eyes were looking down on me with just such a 1001; [Then came the job that cost Jack‘in them as an angel‘s might haVe; \Vith a .‘ tut s‘ne iid no word and I sank into unconsciousness again. It was weeks before Iwas about again or heard what happened after all became dark about Hll‘ on the top of the Mecplc. It seems the. strug- gle had been seen by the people in the street below; an (‘xr‘ilt‘tl crowd had gathered, but they could do noth. ing but look and wondcr and wait. They had seen me strike Jack and then fall back senseless iu Ihc saddle as his arms released me; and then, to llll‘ll‘ horror, they had seen him slip off his platform and drop like a stone, rebounding off the steeple, and fall a shattered heap on the stone paveâ€" ment almost at their feet. He mus have slipped his lifeâ€"line in thr- strug- gleâ€"but luckily tmine Navcd inc, and with great difficulty I was safely low- ered down and carried home. .\Velll there’s little more to tell. They buried poor Jack; and three months later the wedding-bells were ringing for me and the sweetest bride that ever brought a man from the gates of Ileath back to a life that has been all Sunshine. ___+__ SHIP FULL OF TAFFY .â€" Slrangest (‘argo liver Carried-lost l‘lve Thousand Dollars for Owners. The Charing Argentine Republic, recently Cross, from. Rosa rio, etst cargo evcr carried. out originally with sugar and 8,000 bags of linseed. veSSel, converted into a candy factory when one 0f “1'8 elelmcm-S 0f the 311‘ sea, and nobody knew anything breathe, uniting with elements found at at all about it, Her cargo was stowed away in four combustion, which develops the heat different holds of the ship. and the work of unloading commenced on the day following her arrival. first, second and fourth holds withâ€" out experiencing any difficulty, but that When they came t0 unload NO- 3 they blood, those of a fatty nature, and '50 found that the sugar there had be- develops that temperature necessary come one solid block of a dark brown substanceâ€"12,000 bags, equal to 1,000 to taffy. to unload it in the usual way. The hard substance was firmly attached to the sides of the vessel and had on- c-oimpassetd everything else in its grip, so nothing could be done but dig the stuff out. A body of 40 men. using picks and shovels, was employâ€" ed in broakingl up the Laffy bergt in the hold of, the ship, and AFTER 33 DAYS‘ LABOR the men at length succeeded in clear- ing away the last bit of taffy. It had taken eight Luru only nine days to unload the other three hatch- ways, containing the major balance of the cargo, the minimum rate at which a shtipload of sugar can be discharged being 50 tons per day per eight men. But the combined efforts of 40 men engaged in clearing out the taffy pit in the ship’s hold could not turn'. out more than five tons a day. The determination of the congeal- ed mass to resist the onslaught of the 40 men resulted in the breaking of about one ton of iron tools of all sorts, including wedges measuring three feet long, which got twisted and bent like so many limp wax candles; pick-axes, whose points got flattened out; chains, the strong iron links of which snapped in two; great iron bolts that got splintered like clothes pegs, and huge crowbars that got bent like hair pints. If those 12,000 bags of sugar had not got converted by a mysterious agency in.“th taffy their re- moval from the ship would have cost only $165, but in the present instance the cost of digging out the hardened stuff cost $2,350. ll‘H E S UGAR MARKET has Lost 12,000 bags of "fly fancy," as sugar is called at the docks, but confectionters and breweries have bought the taffy, giving $35 a ton for it, or less than. half its original value. Altogether the making of that thousand tons of taffy means a loss of $3,000 in the aggregate, but the ship has become famous, for the Charinig CTQSIS is now referred to as the "taffy ship." The cause otf the transformation cannot be discovered. The sugar was loaded in tropical weather, and those particular bags which went wrong must have contained sugar which was in an abnormally moist condition. The bold in which it was stored is just .ab'tft the. engine. rcmm, and subject to great heat. The subsequent change of temperature, from torrid to frigid latitudes, helped to solidify the mass. The men who assisted in digging out the taffy had to be careful of themselves while at work. If they stayed lcmigca‘ than a minute in one position the surface of thc taffy berg being,r so glutinous, they got stuck there, and could only be taken off again with the assistaasc of fear or five men, and then the sole; of boots were frequently left behind. .__o__ Cauadais first railway, epcnej in 1810 was 10 miles long. She now has over 16,t00 miles. A million pounds of silk every week in the [year is the world’s totll proâ€" I duction. For every 104 Germ-in families who kept servants 10 years ago, only 173 do so now. A man istanding on the sea beach sees 31â€"2 miles out to sea, if on a cliff 100 feet high he can sec 13 miles. L ually suffers from it, landed “3 begin at. the London docks with the strangâ€" 0f firemnrg- A dOI’Ciop'mont 0f hell: She started always accompanies it, and in point of 31,000 bags of fact it is the heat which produces it, The but however, was mysteriously 0‘3'USEd by the @1143 oxygen, WhiCh i9 The ship is this same oxygen and dock hands rapidly cleared the same SLOW tons of sugar, had been converted in- be m, combufltwn the“, can be The mass was as hard as heat, and where there is no air there marble, and it was found impossible can be no C'O'mbmSt‘1'on- It ISL’RNED MAXURE. Every farmer has had more experi- ence than he desired uizh "fircfangâ€" The cause of ll, how to action, ed" manure. prevent the heat much damage the manure heap aci- arc questions and how that most farmers have had c-ccaSiOn to discuss somewhere along the line of their farming experience. The hay-like lightness of fire fang- ed manure and its mouldy appearance naturally give the impression that it has in it but little of value. as food for plants; yet as an offset to the impression made by the appearance of the article we will at times find farmers who declare that they had just as good crops from it as from the best of barn ma-nturc. \Vho is right on the value? To discuss it intelligently, let by determining the cause question of what produces the heat? It is we in the manure pile, producing slow we find there, and ‘the dark, charred appearance each of which are the natural products of combustion. It that by the process of combustion when taken into our own lungs com- bines with some of the food elements digestion) has given to the to keep up the union between the son] and body which we call animal heat. tFrom manure piles. where there can no follows, therefore, if we can keep the air from our manure we can prevent it heat- ing, and consequently burning "firrefanging." There are three ways of doing this by keeping it so moist as to extinâ€" guish combustion at its incipient stage, to pack it close either by keepâ€" ing cattle OII‘ htogs tram-ping it or by blowing the piles so deep that the pressure will exclude the air; and still a fourth method is sometimes prac- tised. that of having the pile so shal- low or small that the temperature is kept below the: combustibn point. Now, passing from the cause of fire- fang and the prevention of it. let us consider a moment the effect of it on the value of the manure heap. The action of the oxygen on the nitrogen which enters into the composition of the manure practically destroys it in the burning process. This is really all the essential loss our manure heap has undergone. The absence of moisture, which has been dried out by the heat, is in reality no loss, as far as its plant food vahue goes. The only vital change, then in our manure is that it has lost much of its nitrogen,‘ the phosphoric acid and potash contents being the same in quantity after it has been firefangod as they were before. Now we are prepared. if our reason~ ,ing thus far is correct, to determine ‘the value of this variety of manure to the farmer. “'e have not a table of analysis at hand, but it is safe to say that the nitrogen constituent of burn manure is about equal in value to the phosphoric acid and potash ele- ments combined. ()n this basis of value badly firefanged manure is, cord for cord worth about half as much as that which is in its natural condition, If it be asked, how then, can any farmer find the same value in it as in that which has never been burnt the answer is the same in kind as that to be made to those who state that on their crop, leached wood ashes have as good an effect as do the unâ€" leachod. It is in both cases that the crop did not need the absent; element; in the one it was nitrogen and in the other potash. lf the nitrogen burnt out could be returned, then the manâ€" ure would of course, be asvaluable as before; this can be done by adding fish waste, night Soil or some chemi- cal rich in, nitrogen to the manure heap, such as nitrate of soda or sulâ€" phate of ammonia. or FEEDING TURNIPS. At a recent meeting of one of the Brunswick Agricultural iutions, the matter of feeding tur- nips to dairy c.1ttl3 came up for, dis- cussion. During the discussion the question was asked as to what sea- son is the worst for turnipy flavors, and the éntswcr made was. doubtedly the fall." Another of those N c w SC present said the roots cannot be safeâ€" ly fed befurc they are '4\\Cll0(i . other speaker said turnips were Sti'otl'ill-d .1 _ without hurting :1 n ,l he ctpz'czsed larger in the sale of 111’: m: a desire to see l'X izut-nzs tried fer the purpose of showing at stages in grownh they are most liable to c-xuv taint. Still another speaker. who dealt with the question, expreas- ed til“ opinion that th“ lung season in 011 Country gives a better flavor to th:- turnips than is produced here. I’l'hai iurrip; are <,r(lin'e'r.l,v icd do pro- duce, a.) f‘njuriom effch seemed to be cczicsded. One man said that aship- menl of butter had been sent from Prince Edward lslxnd to Newfound- land with :1 lul‘uipy flavor, and as a. result no more orders came from that source. A second speaker stated he could not feed turnips and sell buttcr to his customers, and he added that turnips were not necessary as four quarts of buckwheat uiiddlinga~ would give better results than two bushels of turnips. It might be worth while for the Experimental Union to take this matter up, and see if there is any difference in the results from feed- ing turnips at different periods of storing. 5â€"- BEST METHODS OF CULTIVATION. I am very much interested in the idea that deep cultivation of trees is very injurious to them, writes Mr. John Chamberlain. All stirring of the soil is in itself a benefit to a crop, but it is easy to disturb the roots of a plant or tree if the plow or hoe goes down deep and so do it‘ harm. I am sure that cultivators do not watch such things at all carefully as a rule. and so they may be destroying a great many small roots without knowing it. There is a great mis- apprehension amontg' farmers as to the real thing accomplished by culti- vation, so that in many cases there would be very little of it done ifit were not necessary to kill the weeds. Practically all of our commonest weeds are tap rooted and if allowed to get a good start must be torn out deep down to kill them. On the other ban-:1, all of our garden vegetables and field crops are very shallow rooted. with the exception of root crops so that deep cultivation is injurious to them. The obvious way out of this dilemma is to ciultivute very shallow and often. Any wccd from seed is killed by merely breaking it in two, if done before it gets past its first stage Otf growth, so that shallow cultivation amswers every purpose. Let us plow implanted soils deep, but cultivate the surface only‘ _+_ BUILDING STONa F“ I A German Process by VVIIMII It Is Made to order. An establishment for manufactur- ing building stone by a new and pro- raising,r process has begun operations in Germany, with every prospect of success. The process is exceedingly simple, only lime and sand being used. The proportions are from 4 to 6 per cent. of lime to 94 to 96' per cent. of sand. The materials having been mixed thoroughly and shaped in- to blocks of the desired size, the latter are thrust into a boiler that is sub- sequently closed hermetically, and subjected to the influence of steam at a pressure of from 120 to 150 pounds to the inch. This operation lasts about ten hours. The consolida- tion of the lime and sand is. effectâ€" ed not only by mechanical force, but by chemical action. Nor is this chemical action the same as that which occurs in’ making mortar. The calcium of the lime unites with the silica of the sand to form entirely new compounds. These are of a flinty, character, and give the stone a peculiar hardness. It is claimed that agreater output of sand-and-liime stone than of brick is possible with the same investment of capital. Drying sheds are not necessary. The plant can operate all the year round. The stone is harder than brick and there is no waste through breakage. It has a higher oolmpresSii/e strength. The granulat- ed cinder from blast furnaces can be used instead of sand. .â€"+__. N0\V THE CONTRACTOR IS SILENT. A certain wellâ€"known railway con- tractor has the reputation of looking after the minor details of his great business with a keen eye. One morn- ing, while out inspecting the work that was being done on a railway he picked up a stray bolt lying by the side of the line. Then he walked to where the men were working on the road. Look here, he called out to one of the workmen, how is it that I find bolts lying aboutnvasted? I have to pay for these things. you know. \Vhy, where did you get that, sir? I found it a little way up the line here. Oh, did you? cried the workman, I'm much obliged to you, sir, for I‘ve been hunting for that bolt all the forcnoon, and wasted a morning's worth of your money. I knew there was one missing. The august contractor concluded that he could give that workman no points on economy and left in sil- ence. SNAKES AND BEASTS.‘ During the year 183‘.) no less than 24.021 human being; killed by the bite: of venomous snakes in India. The number was larger than in several preced’ag years because. it is Ill'..-Ll'_'lli, of the “011:. which drove 1h: snakes to the high liuds‘ where the homestead: are situated. Wild beasts (luriuz the. sun:- "ar destroy- \\'eI‘c ed 2.005 bum-m liz'ee, ii 3 l).‘ifl.§ re- spCflSiblc f...“ 810 (if thvi victims, \'.‘t;l'."os 'I ‘ 338. lvog‘ aid» for 327, whale. ti- in: l.’.|1_’ were killed by bears, elephants. bycnis, jackals, crocodiles and (.vih‘l‘ aziiuiiL. The d.-striietion of Cli.i'1‘ amounted to 89.238 killed by “Iltl beasts, and 9,449 |by snake's. These statistics are from. [the government report of India. 1

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