CUCARACHA, PANAMA CANAL.

these conditions make vegetable decomposition as rapid as the growth. The result of the whole is the creation of an intense miasmatic poison. People living on the isthmus are all malarious, either in one form or the other, and it is impossible to avoid this. It is true that a few escape malaria while resident there, but they no sooner get into temperate climates than it develops. The sallow faces of a great many tell of paludal poison. The diseases common to all are as follows, and occur with frequency in the order named: Malaria, intermittent, remittent and pernicious fevers, smallpox, yellow fever, catarrhal dysentery, leprosy and elephantiasis.

The city of Panama, a town of 15,000 inhabitants, is situated upon an elevated point of land jutting into Panama Bay. The town is irregularly laid out, with narrow, crooked streets, cobblestoned and filthy. The houses are Spanish in architecture. There are two small sewers in the place, but they are connected with only a few of the best houses. There is an insufficient water supply of inferior water piped in from a river some distance back in the country.

There is no finer hospital on the globe than

the one they have in Panama. It is on the side of the Ancon Mountain, which used to be a volcano several centuries ago, and the lava from the volcano went across Panama and out into the bay about a mile. The hospital is said to have cost $5,000,000. Down in this valley you dig a hole about two feet deep and you come to a boiling spring; they have engines there pumping water up to this hospital.

Colon, the northern terminus of the Panama railroad, is built in a swamp on made ground, and is populated by 3,000 people, 70 per cent being Jamaica and other kinds of negroes. The property of the railroad and canal company is drained and sewered, and is situated on the water front. Everything about the company's property looks clean and well-kept, but the rest of the town is filthy.

There are no sanitary arrangements of any kind, and the population is crowded into small rooms as only Jamaica negroes can live.

The streets are in a fair condition, macadamized, and are on a higher plane than the adjoining lots. In the wet season pools are formed under the houses,

and serve as breeding places for fever and frogs. Rain water is collected in barrels and cisterns, and during the wet season the water supply is good and sufficient. During the dry season many of the cisterns run dry, and the water supply is hauled in from Monkey Hill in tank cars by the railroad.

Neither Colon nor Panama has a firstclass harbor; the defect of Colon harbor is its exposure to strong northerly winds, which, though rare, occur for periods of a few days every year, and while they prevail ships must go to sea for safety. The Panama harbor is remarkable for its currents and tides, the latter rising and falling from 17 to 24 feet, according to the age of the moon. On account of the dead

calms sailing vessels must rely on ocean tugs. It would cost only $3,000,000 to make it a good harbor, while at Colon $5,000,000 must be expended.

The caual will be 46 miles long, including 31⁄2 miles sea reach in the Pacific, and it is estimated it will take our government ten years to complete it.

Summing up, the total estimated cost of completing the Panama Canal is in the aggregate $142,342,579.

This estimate is for the completed project. A canal begun upon this plan may be opened to navigation before the final completion. If single instead of double locks be used, and the bottom width be made 100 instead of 150 feet, the cost will be reduced $26,401,364, and the estimate becomes $115,941,215.

It will take a ship 12 hours to pass

this flight of double locks, four lock chambers in all, is $10,982,345.

The Pedro Miguel locks will be similar to the Bohio locks, the aggregate lift varying from 54 to 62 feet. There is an excellent rock foundation here. The estimated cost of these locks, including an adjacent dam, is $8,496,326.

The Miraflores lock varies from 18 feet at high tide to 38 feet at mean low tide. There is a good rock foundation for this lock. A spillway will be required to regulate the height of this level. The estimated cost of this lock and spillway is $5,720,363.

Lake Bohio will be an artificial lake covering 31 square miles. Its waters will be from 55 to 65 feet deep.

The dam will be built of earth and masonry and will cost $2,786,449.

Alhajuela Lake will cover 5,900 acres and will be 165 feet deep. The dam will be constructed of masonry and will take five years to complete it at a cost of $3,500,000. It will furnish motive power for operating the locks and lighting the canal at night from ocean to ocean.

The Chagres river is a torrential stream. It has been known to rise 70 feet in 24 hours. There are times when the Panama Railroad at this point is 40 feet under water. De Lesseps attempted to control this river, but he failed. The combined skill of the world's most eminent engineers will be required to control the waters of this river.

PANAMA RAILROAD.

The Panama railroad was built by a New York company in 1857 at a cost of $8,000,000. It is a common saying throughout Central America that the construction of this 47 miles of track cost a life for every tie beneath its rails. The railroad depends upon the ships and the people depend on the railroad.

are

The company certainly does the right thing by its white employees. Houses are furnished free for the married employees to live in, and single men given rooms in the company's hotel, while all may have their meals at the hotel at a nominal charge. This hotel is surrounded by pretty grounds, which are lighted by electricity. There is a splendid bath-house, to which employees have free access. There is no night work at all; none of the offices are kept open and no trains are run after 6 o'clock.

Railroading in Panama has some peculiarities of its own. The conductors have a freight run one week and a passenger run the next. The crews do not follow the same conductor, as they do in the States, those on the passenger trains remaining on their regular runs and those on the freights staying with their cabooses. The crews are all black except the conductors and the engineers.

The equipment of the Panama railroad is old-fashioned, but in excellent condition. The gauge is five feet, which is wider than the standard now in vogue in the United States. Very few of the cars are equipped with air brakes. The telegraph poles are made of iron, old rails being stood on end to answer the purpose. The ties are made of lignum-vitæ wood, which is so hard that a spike cannot be driven in it. In order to get the spike in place a hole must be bored for it.

There is only one telegraph station on the line, but all the stations have telephones. A decided novelty in railroading has been introduced here by equipping all cabooses and baggage cars with telephones, so that a train can stop anywhere along

the line and enter into communication with headquarters concerning the where abouts of other trains. This is accom. plished by having a battery in the car with a ground wire attached to the ironwork of the trucks, so that the circuit can pass through the wheels and rails to the ground. A wire on a pole is then attached to the telegraph wire overhead, connecting it with the instrument inside the car, and you can then "hello" as much as you please. In case of a wreck or unexpected delay between stations these telephones render service superior to the telegraph.

The railroad hauls the freight and pas sengers of all countries. It is a common carrier in the fullest sense. The raw products of the South American republics take the short cut across the isthmus for Europe and America. Trains of sugar, nuts and hides going north take the side track for trains loaded with manufactured articles going southward. On the wharves you see great piles of coffee bound for the North, while the ships that brought it are waiting for the railroad to bring them their cargoes of flour for the return trip.

The freight rates across the isthmus are very high, the tariff on a 50-lb. sack of flour being 30 cents. The local rates are stiffer yet, the same charge being made for one mile as for the entire distance. First-class passenger fare is about 10 cents a mile, and second-class 5 cents, the rate being $1 and $2 respectively. In addition to this, passengers must pay 3 cents a pound on all baggage over 30 pounds carried in the hand. It costs the average traveler more to get his trunk across the isthmus than to have himself transported. The annual report shows that 5,590 firstclass passengers were hauled during the year and that the average amount of money that each one paid was about $9. About 15 second-class passengers are hauled for every one of the first-classFrom a folder sent in by Bro. A. J. MeGowan, member of Div. 31.

When the Power Stopped.

BY NETTIE DIXON.

(Copyright, 1906, by Homer Sprague.)

Edna came out of the woods, her arms filled with flowers. It had been her first visit that spring, and as she made her way to the road and stationed herself beside the trolley tracks she thought of the difference last year, wher they had to drive out from town and the only sign of the trolley was a group of men with funny looking instruments working along the road.

It was delightful to feel that tho.e long

yellow cars brought town and country into such close union, and she peered down the track for the first sign of the approaching car.

She had understood that they ran every ten minutes, but after awhile she grew tired and sat on a rock by the roadway. It must be the very rock, she reflected, on which she and Jack had sat while they were waiting for the wagon to come along.

That had been a year ago. Things had changed since then. There had been a little misunderstanding, and Jack had left town for the West-to forget.

Perhaps if he were here-she mightwell, somehow the arbutus and the woods

"Likely to have a long wait," he chuckled. "The power house is burning down. Guess they'll be running again in about six weeks. G'lang!" And the tired horses resumed their jog with the driver still chuckling over the joke.

For a moment Edna's heart sank. It was getting well along in the afternoon. She had had a long day in the woods, and now she had to face a ten mile walk to town unless someone came along who would give her a lift. In spite of the memories that clustered about the spot she decided that she would remain and wait for something to turn up.

Presently a grocery cart came rattling

MEMORIAL HALL, COLUMBUS, O., WHERE seemed to put things in a different light. She had been a little mean to Jack Masters. It was the first time she had admitted it, even to herself. If only Jack knew!

So engrossed did she become with her thoughts that it was fully half an hour before she realized that in all that time not a single car had passed in either direction. She glanced impatiently up the track. It was not pleasant to be alone on a country road with the ghost of the dead past. All the wishing in the world would not bring Jack back.

A lumbering wagon creaked along, and the driver reined his horses in before her. "Waiting for the trolley?" he shouted. Edna nodded.

CONVENTION WILL BE HELD IN MAY, 1908. along, and Edna hailed the driver. He refused her proffer of money and sprang down to help her to the seat. The sprig of arbutus she pinned in his buttonhole was a greater reward than any fee she could give, and he was sorry when a mile beyond a second wayfarer hailed him, asking for a ride.

As the man turned at the sound of the wheels Edna gasped. She had supposed Jack Masters to be out west somewhere, yet here was he or his double standing in the muddy road.

"Do you mind?" asked the boy apologetically as he heard the anticipated request. "There's room on the seat for three."

"Not at all," said Edna, wondering if

her cheeks were as red as they felt. The next moment Masters sprang to the seat. For the first time he seemed to realize who the second occupant of the wagon was. "Edna," he cried, "what are you doing here?"

"I have been out after wild flowers," she explained. "The day was so tempting I could not stand the city."

"Did you go to the old place?" he asked quietly.

"The arbutus is thickest there," she

said. "I guess it was about the old hill."

"I was out there day before yesterday," he said. "Somehow I felt that I would like to go back to the old place. You remember that that was where-where"

"It is not necessary to be more specific," said Edna severely. "It is not nice to rake up unpleasant memories."

The next moment she was penitent and longed to tell him how sorry she was for all that had occurred, but Jack was looking out over the fields now, and he did not