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My experiments with the Roentgen rays have been almost entirely devoted to investigating the phenomena with a view to obtaining the most practicable and powerful form of apparatus-especially the fluorescent lamp, the photographic plates, and the best form of electric oscillation to energize the lamp. Having all the appliances for working with incandescent-lamp vacua, I have been enabled to try a large number of experiments with this end in view. I have not as yet attempted to take pictures other than a standard figure of a number of bars of metal, bone, etc., on cardboard.

I am now fitting up a complete apparatus, and expect soon to conduct a number of accurate experiments in the photography of animate and inanimate objects. From the rough experiments recorded in my note-book I « brief » the following:

1. The ray proceeds from all parts of the glass illuminated by fluorescence.

2. With the same degree of fluorescence, the effect is independent of the size or position of electrodes.

3. Under the same conditions as to the distance of the lamp from the plate, the distortion increases with the increase in the size of the lamp-bulb.

4. Records taken every three inches up to

thirty-six inches show that the photographic effect of the ray diminishes as the square of the distance, as stated by Roentgen.

5. Commercial dry plates vary much in their sensitiveness to the ray. The most rapid plates for light are the slowest for the ray.

6. As nearly as can be ascertained at present, the power of the ray to photograph varies as the square of the illuminating power of the fluorescence.

7. The phosphorescence of the lamp after the current is stopped does not photograph. Powerful after-phosphorescence of a lamp is no indication of its value for photographic work.

8. High vacuum diminishes fluorescence and the sensitiveness to photographic work. The point of maximum fluorescence is where the residual gases just perceptibly glow.

9. Fluorescent lamps with aluminium electrodes gradually change to higher vacuum, with diminishing fluorescence and consequent lower sensibility. Gentle heating of the lamp restores the absorbed gases temporarily.

10. The smaller the lamp the less will be the distortion of the shadow, and the closer can the plate and the lamp be placed, thereby increasing the sensibility greatly.

11. Substances so far tried which powerfully phosphoresce in the bulb of the lamp do not photograph when phosphorescent after the current is stopped.

12. Heating the dry plate does not appreciably increase its sensitiveness.

13. A good lamp should give a clear photograph of thin metallic strips through eight inches of Georgia pine in fifteen minutes.

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RINCE MICHAEL of Polkavia is a charming young man. His territory is one of the small independent states of the Balkan Peninsula; but you will search in vain for it upon the maps, even those war maps which make a strategical point of every mole-hill. He is bon prince, and lets his subjects do pretty much as they like, while he amuses himself in the pleasure resorts and the capitals of Europe, with run now and then to Cairo or Constantinople. Indeed, I do not believe that his diversions are very reprehensible; there is in him a strong dose of ideality which restrains him from vulgar escapades.

The prince has hazel eyes that are rather dreamy; soft blond hair; and a waist slender, like that of a young girl; his manners are delightfully easy, with a childlike frankness which may be the last touch of his diplomatic training. Now and then a fine smile illumines the small red mouth under his carefully pointed and waxed mustache. One has heard women, by no means school-girls, declare that they became fond of Prince Michael from the moment when he was presented, and, standing before them, clicked together the high heels of his varnished boots, and executed a bow which, while wholly modern, yet appeared to include the antique homage of the days of the minuet, even of the times of medieval chivalry. Moreover, it is said that the prince does not lack courage, is a fearless rider, and very expert as a swordsman. He also speaks fluently at least half a dozen languages.

Is Prince Michael then perfection? Alas! the justice of contemporary biography is obliged to admit that this pearl has a flaw: Prince Michael is deeply tinged with romanticism, a quality with which this end of the century does not know what to do. In the mingled races of the Balkan are strangely assorted characteristics, which set off one another by force of contrast. Prince Michael knows his Paris, his Vienna, his St. Petersburg, and one fears that he is not unaware of his Monte Carlo; but he is dominated by a fixed idea, incredibly fantastic, which has hindered him in the choice of a bride: he adores nothing so much as small, even microscopic feet. And of all the demoiselles of high descent and

of fortune who were proposed for him in court circles not one had the sort of feet at which he could prostrate himself and sigh as he would have wished to do.

Not devoid of a smattering of the classics and gifted with a very pretty taste in composition, Prince Michael is author of a brochure on the comparative mythology of the famous nursery tale of Cinderella and the Greek legend of Rhodope. A copy of this treatise, elegantly printed between slip covers of blueand-silver brocade, is a graceful gift to such acquaintances as the prince chooses to admit to a certain degree of friendship. He was so good as to present one of them to me because after the incident was closed I told him—

But instead this is the beginning of the anecdote. It all happened in the city of Catania and upon Mount Etna, whose majestic gloom ought to have been an effectual rebuke to so much frivolity.

At the table d'hôte of the Albergo Orientale the prince had begun an acquaintance with our small party-one of those passing relations of tourists without consequences. It amused Prince Michael, and he vowed that it was instructive to get the American ideas upon things. «You of the United States have a point of view rather original perhaps, but full of good sense,» he opined.

After a few days one had heard all the theories and some judicious selections from the experiences of this young man, who by grace of what Latin blood was in his veins had preserved a curious naïveté of mind. One was shown the photographs of his august dowager mama and of the princesses Wanda and Helena, his sisters. It seems to me that they traced their lineage back to Charlemagne; undoubtedly the young ladies, who were pictured in the short skirts of the peasant costume of Polkavia, inherited from the Emperor's mother, the famous Bertha Broadfoot. Hence, perhaps, the prejudice of their brother in favor of tiny feet. In showing the photographs, indeed, Prince Michael betrayed some regret.

<< It must be avowed,» said he, shaking his head sadly, «that my sisters have les pieds énormes.»>

You can judge of the sensation experienced one morning by this enthusiast when, as he

passed along the corridor of the floor where he lodged, he beheld in front of a closed door the prettiest, the most microscopic pair of shoes that had ever rejoiced his eyes. They were of russet-colored Russian leather, charmingly polished, waiting to be taken into that chamber whenever the indolent little feet of their mistress should be ready to put them on. <<I may have committed an indiscretion,» the prince told me quite gravely. «I confess that I could not refrain from lifting one of those shoes in order to examine it. It was miraculously small, numbered 11⁄2 of exquisite proportions, not distorted anywhere by the slightest irregularity of the enchanting foot that it is privileged to contain. J'en suis fou!» he concluded.

<< An amiable madness, prince,» said I. «I ought to be chained; I certainly shall commit some folly.»>

<< The greatest folly might be to enchain yourself.»

<<That is very true, madame.>>

When finally the owner of the famous shoes appeared one was ready to believe that the prince really might do many a thing more foolish than to make her his princess. She was American-precisely, from New York. Her name was Angelica Van Doren; she was accompanied by her mama, who chaperoned her very conscientiously, although it was evident that the strict system of surveillance was entirely by will of the daughter. Sometimes it seemed as if the elder woman saw little use in so much watchfulness, and would not have disliked a brief vacation in which she might take naps, read novels, and rest her weary feet and mind from sight-seeing; but there is nothing so correct, so inexorable, as a modern girl who brings herself up well, and, incidentally, also her mother.

And truly Miss Van Doren was a nice girl, which in her case means amiable, gay, unaffected, self-possessed, with a reserve fund of common sense to draw upon when occasion should require. We all liked the Van Dorens, and as to the prince, it was quite his own affair. One had no disposition to make or to mar an international alliance. In fact, barring that weak fiber of romanticism, Prince Michael of Polkavia was, and no doubt is, abundantly able to take care of himself.

Every morning those delicious russet shoes stood sentinel before the door of the sleeping Miss Angelica. At a quarter past nine her maid carried them in to meet their happy destiny, to be trodden by her perfect feet. By the way, and we thought it very nice of her, --Miss Angelica never made any display of

her foot; she wore her gowns, indeed, rather long in the skirt, and took none of the careless and ungraceful attitudes which are affected by some women, crossing one ankle over the other. She appeared as nearly unaware of her charms as could possibly be expected of one so very, very pretty. For she was really beautiful, in the rather fragile, high-strung, finely modeled type of American. Her nose was a little masterpiece in ivory; her hair was chestnut, inclined to mutinous curls; her eyes were violet blue, very large and darkly fringed; her hands were not particularly small, but were daintily rounded, with pink nails. Her voice, alas! had certain wiry vibrations when raised, but even these were not wholly unmusical; and her costumes were innumerable and admirable, authentic creations of Doucet, Paquin, and the others.

Prince Michael complained to me of the adorable modesty which caused Miss Angelica to be chary of the view of her feet. «< Always veiled in the discreet shadow of her skirts,» said he. «Once, indeed, in descending a stairway one foot was visible as far as the instep. But-will you credit me?-I, from respect for the chaste sentiments of the young girl, averted my gaze. I remained deprived of the sight, but I am content with myself.>>

Now was there ever anything finer in the days of chivalry than this abnegation of the excellent prince?

It was impossible to judge whether Miss Angelica took the devotion of Prince Michael seriously. American girls are so accustomed to openly expressed admiration and to «attentions without intentions » that the compassed and rather formal homage of the prince might very well have failed to explain itself to her. At all events, she was quite at ease and companionable with him, precisely as with a young man of her set in New York. She had a very agreeable manner, independent, yet free from pertness; and this republican geniality of hers greatly attracted Prince Michael.

«I foresee, madame,» he told me, «that I shall kneel at her feet.»>

« Always her feet, prince! You say nothing of her face or of her heart.»

He looked misunderstood. «You know that the foot of a fairy is my ideal,» he answered quite simply.

For several days it had rained; the winds swept back and forth through the Straits of Messina, storming, and the heavens above wept to see them so quarrelsome. Hence our excursion upon Etna had been postponed (a party of a dozen persons had been arranged), and what with the weather, added to a two

days' headache of Mrs. Van Doren and some minor obstacles which are now lost in the perspective of time, it seemed as if the adjournment were to be sine die.

Finally, however, there came a brilliant day when the sea sparkled like a bespangled dancer, the winds were mild and perfumed, and Etna waved invitingly its pennon of smoke. So we all set forth. It should have been premised that this was the final day of the sojourn of the Van Dorens; they were to go that evening to Messina, whence they would sail for Naples to meet there the husband of the one, the father of the other, lady. Prince Michael had alleged that a sudden crisis in affairs of state imperatively recalled him to his little capital and his court, like that of opera bouffe; so that, with permission of Mme. Van Doren, he also would embark on the same steamer, and hoped that he might be able to be of use to them as a courier. Certainly there was nothing to be said against a monarch's returning to his own principality, and no doubt they were glad of his escort; anybody would have been, for he was very agreeable, and, as has been said, bon prince to the ends of his finger-nails. So the monumental pile of the Van Doren boxes and the much lesser luggage of the prince were transported to the railroad station. The travelers took with them in the carriages that bore them up Etna small bags containing, doubtless, jewels and valuables, as well as the toilet articles necessary before they could rejoin their effects.

The scenery of Etna is of an indescribably tragic beauty: the fantastic shapes of the lava, long since extinct; the steeply climbing terraces planted with vines the fruit of which draws fiery juices from the soil; the clumps of Indian fig and of euphorbia; the olive-trees contorted by the pressure of the incandescent floods that have invaded them; the roads as if made of beaten coal-dust; the villages of somber stone; the people with their jetty eyeballs and grave faces-all are unlike those of any other region. The consciousness of tremendous imprisoned forces that at any moment may break out appears to have molded the nature of the dwellers on Etna.

Up this sinister way, however, we all went gaily enough, and nobody was so absorbed in the landscape as to be unable to glance now and then at the prince and Miss Angelica, whose romance was visibly progressing. He sat in the carriage with the Van Dorens, his back to the horses, and vis-à-vis with the mama as well as with the daughter, yet one would wager that Miss Angelica caught many expressive looks of which her mother was un

aware; or perhaps not, because the prince was very scrupulous in his behavior, and may have thought it correct to include the chaperon in all his æillades.

In due time we reached the picturesque little inn of Nicolosi, where lunch had been previously ordered. The men of the party strolled to and fro on the road, smoking cigars and discussing the merits of the donkeys provided for our further ascent of the mountain as far as the sources of the lava of 1669. The women rested in the dining-room of the tavern, and examined the albums in which tourists record their names and impressions, some of the latter absurdly petty in presence of the vast and heaven-defying heights of Etna. The lunch was very gay; afterward the party, some mounted on donkeys, others afoot, undertook the climb to the craters of the Monti Rossi. The soil is rough and loose, with sand and scoriæ; but we attained the Altarelli, where a few years ago the lava stream parted as by miracle for the safety of the town of Nicolosi. There it was decided to let the patient little donkeys repose awhile, and everybody began to ramble about, gathering bits of lava and the black crystals called lapilli.

When of a sudden the clouds, which had withdrawn themselves only for an ambush, came wheeling over, and discharged a great volley of rain. There was a general scramble; the party hurried back as it could to the inn of Nicolosi; there fires were made in great braziers, and the good women of the house aided the ladies to dry themselves, while the host and his boy solicitously groomed the masculine contingent of tourists.

In half an hour we all joined forces in the dining-room, where some hot wine was set upon the table as a preventive of colds and as a cordial for the long drive back to the city. Most of us had found our russet shoes puckered to impossible shapes and sizes by the thorough wetting which they had undergone; but the application of oil had succeeded in restoring them to use, if not to beauty-all but the shoes of Miss Angelica, which, unluckily set too near the kitchen fire, were so scorched that their ruin was utter, and smelled to heaven-which knows that the fumes of singed leather have little in common with the odor of roses!

The rest of us hobbled more or less in our half-spoiled footwear, while Miss Angelica walked-fortunately, without heels her gown hung longer than ever-with the flat-footed patting of stocking-feet. But no doubt to the devoted prince even in that sort of gait the true goddess was manifest.

A wave of crimson swept over the face of Prince Michael as she entered the room (one must remember that he was a tenderly chivalrous creature). Miss Angelica, however, was as cool and fair as-well, as the weather, which, having played its ugly trick, was now serene and complacent, like a child after a crisis of naughtiness.

Why the prince had blushed was soon very evident. He quitted the room, and a moment later returned, bringing in his hands his bag, from which he took out a small pair of Oxford ties-not at all those which were ruined, and which, by the way, were of patent leather, but instead the shoes, the russet shoes, the divine, diminutive shoes of Cinderella, of Rhodope, of Miss Angelica Van Doren. This dear prince was radiant, though somewhat shamefaced.

«Behold!» he said. «I hope that you will pardon my theft for the sake of-ah, well, for the moment let us say for the sake of the opportune appearance of a pair of dry shoes. It is the rain of heaven that has ruined the sandal of Rhodope; the ashes of Etna alone were poetic enough to cling to the slipper of Mlle. Cinderella. This morning,-I confess it,-after the luggage of Mme. and of Miss Angelica had been carried away, I saw these adorable shoes left, neglected, forgotten, near her door. I took them as a souvenir; that was my happiness. Now at need I restore them; this is my duty. Will you permit me, Mme. Van Doren, to place them upon the charming feet of your daughter? That shall be my reward.»

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The married men of the party here got glances from their respective wives which meant, Take a lesson from the manners of this very polite prince. And they all signaled in reply, Not if we know ourselves.

Meanwhile, Prince Michael, encouraged by the silence of the mama and the lowered eyelids of the daughter, knelt at the feet of Miss Angelica, and with extreme delicacy and devotion proceeded to put the shoe upon her right foot. The toe went in, but she winced visibly. The prince coaxed and even squeezed that foot to make it enter the shoe, but it would not-or, rather, it could not. Then Miss Angelica rose, desperate, yet still mistress of the situation. << It is no use, prince,» she said; «these are not my shoes-or, yes, they are my shoes, but I never could wear them; they are dummy shoes.>>

"What!» gasped the prince, and «What?» inquired the chorus.

"Dummy shoes, don't you know,» continued Miss Angelica, more cheerfully. «Lots of New York girls have them; somebody brought

the idea over from Paris. We keep them for show-for instance, to set outside the doors of hotel rooms. And some of the brides of this season have had in their trousseaux-oh, perhaps two dozen pairs to match the gownsduplicates of what they will wear, only ever so much smaller; and the shoemakers take them back afterward. Do you understand, prince?» For the poor young man looked confused and miserable.

«Now look at my foot,» resumed Angelica, frankly extending it. «It is rather big for my height; I wear a 4 B, and am comfortable. Don't you see, prince, that I might have reasons for leaving a 13 A outside my door, where people would pass, or, rather, pause and admire? Of course I'm a fraud, though it was n't so very wicked, either; but I never want to see those tight shoes again.»

One fancied that her voice broke slightly as she laughed.

Miss Angelica was mortified, of courseevery woman present could see that; but she carried off the incident with a sang-froid and firmness that were simply heroic: for feminine heroisms are usually of about that size. They hurt, all the same.

The host announced that the carriages were ready for the descent of the mountain.

Now one of the nice traits of Miss Angelica was that she knew when she was defeated. Her mama was less clever.

«Some one will have to carry Angelica,>> said Mrs. Van Doren, vaguely. I cannot let her step upon that wet pavement.>>

There was an awkward moment. Prince Michael stood silently contemplating the small but illusive russet right shoe, which he still held in his hand. One of the women of the party prompted her husband with a glance.

«Oh, certainly, my dear,» said he (and she withered him by another look). «Permit me, Miss Van Doren.»>

<< Pray do, Miss Angelica,» encouraged his wife. «He is so big and strong he will carry you beautifully.>>

Which he did.

My gown caught on a nail in leaving the room. Prince Michael very kindly stopped to extricate it. He was so slow about the rescue that it was evident he had something that he wished to say to me. This was it:

« Madame, may I ask you, as an American, if in any way I am lacking toward Miss Angelica in the way of respectful homage, of course? Although-at first-my hopes-> he stammered.

<< Prince,» was my answer, «it can't be

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