The times and democrat. [volume] (Orangeburg, S.C.) 1881-current, 1911-03-02

world ,to himself.
The crowd is struck with admira-
ton for the audacity Of the criminal
and half hopes this rumor may prove
true. The whole city is excited.
Vast crowds gather before the bulle-
tin boards of the newspapers. More
than 10000 are assembled before
that of The World, now an hourly
paper. From the balcony vast
trumpet rcars dispatches as they
are received from all over the earth.
At 4:45 shout goes up. The dis
appearance Of the etheromobile has
been explained it is carrying COM
mittee Of four members of the Uni
versity to observe meteorological pine
nomena. So Lafuite is still on earth.
AT $50 despatch from Vera
| Cruz announces that man corre-
spending to the description of La
fuite and travelling alone in an aero
plane descended in that city six days
ago to get gasoline and food. He
left again for the South at a speed
estimated at 800 miles an hour.
At last, at sos, thunderous des-
patch proclaimed that the defaulting
cashier has just been arrested in
cafe at Buenos Ayres, where he was
Identified in spite of the fact that he
had shaved off his beard and was
wearing black goggles.
Night falls upon the excited city.
This is only phrase, for there Is no
more night except in the rooms
where men sleep. When the sun
set, myriads Of electric moons make
an artificial day, as bright as the
real terrestrial daylight that
mounts into the sky and puts the
stars to shame. It is the hour Of
evening promenaders. The citizens
of New York, mounted upon rapid
airships, go out with their families
for fresh air in the Catski!ls and the
Berkshire Hills, which have become
CITY parks, full of crowds and music.
Dinner by Pushing Electric Buttons.
| For New York, which once was the
tiny city bounded by Yonkers and the
ocean, has swallowed its suburbs,
eaten up the adjacent counties. 1t is
no longer a city-it is an urban
region. Around a monstrous nu-
cleus, the centre Of business and
pleasure, wherein no one lives out
side working hours, extends in ev-
cry direction, the garden city pf
which the ancient hygienists used TO
preach. In this smiling country,
filled with parks and gardens, the
New Yorker lives, il he has family.
There are few bachelors, like John
Smith, who prefer to dwell on tha
upper floors of skyscrapers on the
edge Of the business centre, but all
others must have their own houses.
There is no home so humble that it
is not tied to the universe by telc-
phone, telegraph and telephone, wire
LESS, of course. The moving side
walks and subterranean railroads
take them to and fro, to say nothing
of the aerobuses and aerotrains. A..
these pretty homes are heated, cooled
and lighted by electricity and pro
vided with automatic apparatus that
dispenses their inhabitants from
work.
John Smith gladly accepts an invi-
tation to dine with friends. This ev-
ening he goes out to the hoTse of
Mr.. Barrett, a widower who lives
among his rhododendrons on the
southern slops of Slide Mountain,
with his centenarian mother and 4
charming daughter.
AS soon as he arrives Miss Bal
rett cooks the dinner with her o"n
dainty fingers. For neither here Eor
in the palaces of the bankruptcies
|are there servants any more. The
fairy electricity has reduced culinary
operations to a series of dainty ges-
lures, very similar to those made by
typewriters or pianists. All dishes
are prepared in the dining-room,
right on the table, by means of gilt
tering instruments of precision Of
copper and nickel.
A Theatre in the Drawing Room.
When they rose from the table az
ter dinner Mr.. Barrett expressed tile
hope that Mr.. Smith would pass the
evening with them and suggested
that they go to a theatre. His daugh-
ter suggested the opera, Mr.. Bar
rett thought Mr.. Smith might ike 10
hear that ancient classic "Chantec-
!; ler," which was being given at
Daly's.
"I like those old-fashioned simple
things" said the host" and in mu-
sic I confess that I do not under
stand those new composers. 1 have
not go beyond Strauss; yes, Strauss,
simple and old-fashioned as he Is.
And I really enjoy an evening of
that antiquated Wagner, strange as
it may seem. Mother, will you &C
Icompany us?"
The aged Mrs. Barrett shook her
head.
81 will leave YOU" she said. II
have my own theatre, that of the
old folks.
"My mother" said Mrs Barrett