H i t . > n 1 1 mmmmmmmi inn tm0Ks&mmmmmalmmimmmmmmtmmMM0iniammmmmmwtm
H , " ? / - - - -
f % } < " INTERNATIONAL PRESS ASSOCIATION. .
( CHAPTER XI.-Continced. )
Cauasldiere Btartod in surprise ; 1
< j "Was not accustomed to such pla
speaking.
" " ho replied , wii
t "Madame is severe ,
i a sarcastic smile. "She does not a
prove of the morals of my nation ? N <
\ Yet parbleu ! they compare not u ;
favorably with those of pious Sco
' This rebuff rather disconcerted tl
plain ' spoken lady , who turned up t ]
path impatiently , while the Prencl
mar.shrugged his shoulders and look *
loftily Indignant. Marjorie , who hi
watched the preceding passage at ara
with no little anxiety , not quite follo\
ing the conversation , glanced implo
ingly at Caussidlere.
"Don't mind Miss Hetherlngton , " s !
• said , when the lady was out of hea
ing. "What Mr. Lorraine says of hi
is true ; her bark's waur than her bit
. .4and she meanB no offense. "
* r "Who is she , my child ? Oh , I r
* member , the eccentric old lady who
you visited yesterday. "
Marjorie nodded ; and at that mi
ment Mr. Lorralno came down the pat
followed by Solomon , and met Mil
Hetherington , who began talking
him vehemently.
"She is not very polite , " mutter *
Caussidlere ; "and see , she is alreat
abusing me to your guardian. "
He held out his hand.
"Good-bye ! I shall see you , pcrhar
later in the day. "
"Perhaps. Oh , monsieur , you are m
offended ? "
"Not at all , " replied Caussidier
though the look with which he r
garded his late antagonist rather b
lied his words. "I forgive her for yoi
sake , my child ! "
* * * * * *
Marjorie did not go to church aga ;
that day. She had a Headache ai
ltept her room. It was altogether
. gloomy afternoon. Mr. Lorraine , s"
cretly troubled in his mind , had difi
culty in concentrating his thoughts c
his religious duties , and Solomon pr
served an invincible taciturnity.
away , and evenir
! the day passed
came.
There was no evening service , f (
3Ir. Lorraine was too infirm to condm
three services in one day. After a dii
mal tea , to which Marjorie came dowi
the minister sat reading a volume (
sermons , and presently Marjorie le
the room , put on her hat , and strolle
into the garden. '
and tl
It was a beautiful evening ,
moon was rising over the far-off hill
With her head still aching wearily , tli
girl wandered out upon the road an
into the churchyard. She crept clos
to the western wall and looked for
long time at one of the tombstone
Then , sighing deeply , she came 01
and strolled up the village.
The bright weather and the fresh a
"enticed her on and on till she cam
to the rural bridge above the Anna
All was still and peaceful ; not
sound , not a breath disturbed the Sal
bath silence. She leaned over the stor
parapet and looked sadlydown. .
Her thoughts were wandering fc
away flowing , flowing with the mui
inuring stream. She had fallen into
waking dream , when she heard a fee
step behind her. She started and u
tered a low cry as she saw a ' dark fi
ure approaching in the moonlight.
CHAPTER XII.
HE figure advance
\ c = = = v
Ov-Jj l J rapidly , and in
' C $ W\ \ moment Marjori
Hy M * fl \ \ < * / .recognized her ti
V Sviyl "Monsieur Cans
ff&fLV sidiere ! " she criet
* ® 5 M "Yes , " returne
9m& & V the Frenchjn a
\ mmi quietly , "it is I !
W Nja "He took he
' '
' liand in his , an
found it cold and trembling.
"I have frightened you , " he said.
"Yes , monsieur ; I was startled be
• cause I di\I not hear you. coming , and
.seemed to be far away. "
She seemed .strangely sad and pre
• occupied tonight. After the Frencb
.man had joined her she relapsed int
her former dream ; she folded her arm
% %
M \ M upon the bridge again , and fixed he
Wm "Bad eyes upon the flowlng river. Caus
( k § & % sidiere , partaking of the mood , looke
is-jJt -downward , too.
yy ! "You love the water , Marjorie ? "
TCJK "Yes ; it is my kith and kin. "
B , 1jg\ "You have been here for hours , hav
E' you not ? I sought you at the mans
l 8r in vain. ! '
ffM "I was not here , monsieur. I was i :
\j& \ \ the kirkyard among the graves. "
' $ pfv "Among the graves ? " returned th
' JM | Frenchman , looking anxiously at hei
1 ? \ " 'A strange place for you to wander ij
\M \ J' my child ! It is only when we hav
* "seen tr0UDl ° and lost friends that w
SW seek such places. For me it would b
. : # fitting , perhaps , but for you it is dif
i ; J forent You are so- young and shoul
1 be so happy. "
> "Ai , yes ! " sighed Marjorie. "I ai
| mky happy enough. "
"And yet you sadden the days tha
J fti * .
| KrV should be.the brightest by wanderin
near the dead. Why did j-ou'go to h
1
M Cuurchjrard. little one ? "
"Why , monsieur ? To see my moth
R Or's grave. "
f "Your * mother's grave ? I though
HL you dfd not.know your mother ? "
H "They say she was my mother , " re
turned. Marjorie , quickly. "She wj
found drowned , in Annan Water wj
it nof dreadful , monsieur ? and si
was buried yonder in . the kirkyai
when I was a little child. "
"And you think she was your moti
er ? "
"They say so , monsieur , but I do in
think , it is true. "
"No ? "
"I have gone to her grave and stayc
by it , and tried to think they are righ
but I cannot I aye come away as
did tonight and look at Annan Wate
and feel It more my kin. "
"Marjorie ! "
"Yes , monsieur ! "
"I fancj' you are right , child ; pe :
haps your mother lives. "
"Ah , you think that ? "
"More ; she is perhaps watching ov <
you , though she cannot speak. SI
may reveal herself some day. "
"You believe so , monsieur'rrepeatc
Marjorie , her face brightening wit
joy.
joy."It
"It is very probable , my child. Yc
are not of the canaille , Marjorie. Whe
I first saw you I knew that ; then
heard your story , and it interested m
I thought , 'We are strangely alike 1\
are like two of a country cast adrift i
a foreign land , but our destinies see :
to be one. She is exiled from her kli
dred ; I am exiled from my home. SI
has a kindly heart and will understan
me ; we must be friends , Marjorie , wi
we not ? "
He held out his hand , and the gi
took it.
"You are very good , monsieur , " si.
answered simply.
"Then you must treat me as a frlem
indeed , little one ! " he answered. '
will take no money for your lessons. . '
is a pleasure for me to teach you , an
and Mr. Lorraine is not rich. "
"Mr. Lorraine ? " said Marjorie , opei
ing her blue eyes ; "it is not Mr. L01
raine who pays for my schooling , bi
Miss Hetherlngton. "
"Is that so ? "
"Yes ; that is so. Mr. Lorraine di
not wish to have me taught beyond m
station ; but Miss Hetherington said
must learn. "
Caussidlere seemed to reflect pre
foundly.
"Miss Hetherington is a philanthror
ic lady , " then ? "
"Do you think so , monsieur ? "
"Do not you think so 'Marjorie , sine
she is universally kind and generous V
"Ah , " returned Marjorie , "I do nc
think she is always generous , mon
sieur ; but she is very kind to me. Wh
she has almost kept me ever since
w ' as a child '
To this the Frenchman did not reply
he seemed somewhat disturbed ; he 11
a cigar and watched Marjorie throug
the clouds of smoke. Presently th
clock in the church tower struck th
hour , and Marjorie started.
"I must be walking home , " she sail
She began to move across the bridg <
the Frenchman keeping beside her.
They walked- steadily onward , an
now they reached the door of the ini
Marjorie paused and held forth "he
hand.
"Good-night , monsieur , " she said.
"Good-night ! shall I not .walk wit
jou to the manse , little one ? "
Marjorie shook her head.
"I would rather walk there aloDe. "
The Frenchman shrugged his shoul
ders.
"Eh bien ! since you wish it I wil
think you are right. Good-night , m ;
little friend , and au revoir. "
He" took the hand which she had ex
tended toward him , rafsed it towan
his lips , then patted it as if he had beei
patting the fingers of a child ; it wa
this air of fatherly friendliness whic ]
made her trust him , and which won fo
him all the sympathy of her affection
ate heart
When Caussidiere imprinted a kis
upon her hand she neither blushed no
drew it away , but she said softly :
"Good night , monsieur , God bles :
you ! " at which the Frenchman kissei
her hand again , then , turning quickly
entered the inn.
Marjorie turned , too , feeling her kln <
little heart overflowing , andwalkei
away down the moonlit road. She hat
not gone many steps when she wa :
abruptly joined by a man. She did no
start nor seem- surprised ; Indeed
while she was parting with the French
man she had seen John Sutherlant
watching her from the opposite side o
the road.
"Good-evening , Johnnie , " said Mar
jorie , quietly. "Why did you not comi
forward to speak to Monsieur Caussi
diere ? "
'
The young man started , but made nt
answer ,
"Johnnie , what is wrong ? " she asked
He paused , and looked at her.
"Marjorie , " he said , "tell me wha
you were doing with that man ? "
It was no time for his reproaches ;
her whole soul rose in revolt.
"With that man ? " she repeated , an
grily. "Do you mean with Monsieui
Caussidiere ? "
"Yeswith that villainous French
man , " he returned , driven recklessl ]
onward by his anger. "Why are yoi
always in his company , Marjorie An
nan ? " *
Marjorie drew herself proudly up
Had the Frenchman seen , her then , h <
wbuld , "havo little doubt as to the stocl
'
whence stye came. "
"I am in his company-because I an :
. * . " *
v. * *
his friend , " she answered , proud !
"Yes , his friend ; and as his friend
will not hear him insulted. Goo
night"
She walked quickly away , but in
moment he was again beside her. -
"Marjorie , will you not listen
me ? "
"No , I will not , " returned the gii
angrily. ' "Whatever you have to s :
against Monsieur Caussidiere you she
not say to me. He was right ; y <
are all against him , and you are tl
worst of all. Do you think it is just 1
kind to abuse .a man simply becau
he is a stranger and unfortunate ? Wh
has Monsieur Caussidiere ever done
you that you should dislike him :
much ? "
The young man stared at her flushi
cheeks and angry eyes ; then he e
claimed :
"Marjorie , answer me ! Tell me it
not possible , that you care for yc
man ? "
She flushed crimson and turn <
away.
"I care for anyone , " she answere
evasively , "who is alone and wi
wants a friend. Monsieur Caussidie
has been very kind to me and I a
sorry for him. "
"You are more than that , Marjorie
but take care , for I know he is a scoui
drel. "
"How dare you say so ? " return *
Marjorie. "You are a coward , Johnn
Sutherland. If he were here you wou
not speak like that. "
"I would say the same to him as
you. If he were not a scoundred 1
would not entice you from your home
This was too much for Marjorie. SI
uttered an indignant exclamation , an
without deigning to reply , hasten *
rapidly away. This time he did n *
hasten after her ; and almost before 1
could recover from his surprise she h
entered the manse door.
CHAPTER XIII.
= FTER the seer
-Jll aj with Marjorie c
m\A \ | Sunday night.Sutl
/ /li / c ll er an ( was * n
Hflwi V IS stae , oJ esDair il
CD * H y two days he walke
ljJAU / about in misery ; 0
Xn § § lL the third day h
® LJ&Q resolution was fixe
± U
/ikfyLDji | and he determine
$ ! to act * He went ute
$ § &
to the Castle an
sought an interview with Miss Hetl
erington , to whom he told of the scei
which he had had with Marjorie , of hi
anger against himself , and of her coi
stant meetings with the stranger. Mil
Hetherington listened with avert *
head , and laughed grimly when he ha
done.
"I see how it is , " she said ; " 'tis tl
old tale ; twa lads and a lassie. But
flinna like the French man , Johnni
ao more than yourself. I'll spea
svith Mr. Lorraine ; maybe 'tis his wor
to keep the bairnie right , though I
ioes his work ill , I'm thinking. You' ]
1 good lad , Johnnie , and as to Marjori
she's a short-sighted eedict not to at
svha's her friend. "
She spoke lightly and cheerfully ; bi
the moment Sutherland disappears
both her face and manner changed.
"The lad was right , " she said. "Lo\
ias made him keen sighted , and he h
Lold me the truth. Marjorie is In dai
ijer. Now is the time when she neec
the care o' kind folk to keep her fra
the one false step that ruins all. Mai
jorie Annan , what shall I do for yoi
my bairn ? "
She stood for a time meditating
then she looked at her watch and foun
it was still early in the day ; she sun ;
moned her old servant , ordered her cai
riage , and a quarter of an hour late
svas driving away toward the town c
Dumfries.
Hardly had she left when the Frenci
nan came to the castle , and , by dint c
aribing the old serving man , Sand
Sloan , with a golden sovereign , wa
aermitted to view the different roomi
( to be continued. )
RARE WORKS OF ART. .
Treasures of the Goncourt Brothei
Uring Great Prices.
All the great pictures in the Gen
: ourt collection have now been sold a
he Hotel Drouot and have realize
196,000 francs , or 27,840 , says a Pari
etter. It is to be noted that the broth
ts Goncourt , as related in the famou
liary , often pinched themselves in 01
ler to purchase pictures and art ot
ects.for their collection. They woul
mdoubtedly be surprised if they wer
Llive to read the prices obtained at th
ecent sale for old drawings and en
; ravings which they picked up year
igo on the Paris quays and elsewher
or a few gold or silver pieces. The ;
vere keen dilettanti and knew gooi
vorks of art when they saw them , bu
hey could hardly have realized that :
ketch by the younger Moreau , fo
vhich they paid about a dollar , wouli
> e purchased years afterwards for nun
Ireds of dollars. There is now ever ;
irospect that the Goncourt academ ;
nay become an accomplished fact , am
hat the literary legatees , as well as th
toor relations , may receive somethini
forth having out of the estate. Whei
3dmond de Gouncourt died it was con
idently asserte by many that hi ;
rtistic collections would not realiz
8,000 , whereas his pictures and en
pavings alone "have already brought ii
aore\than treble that amount.
Only a Little Premature.
"f can't hear a suit that isn't pend
ng , " said a judge to a'young lawyej
rho was seeking advice. *
"I know it isn't pending , " replied thi
xiing man , in some confusion , "but i
s about to pend. " The. Green Bag.
, TheJndian rpopulation of the Domin
sntof Canada said tq 'be 122,000 , c-
" *
, 'hom atfout 38,000 are Roman Catho
Ics ; and" the same" number Protestanta
ABOUT CHEAP WHEA1
PRODUCT OF ARGENTINA
GROWN BY PEON LABOR.
1'rlmltlvo Methods of Italian Farmcri
Favorable Soli ami SeanonH , Cheat
, .Labor anil Xonsr Hour * Factor * Thai
- Rcgulato Market Prices.
As the-future price of wheat is-main-
ly dependent upon the Argentina'wheat
crop , to be harvested about December
nextit Is interesting to study the meth
ods of cultivation there. The South
American wheat farms are mostly held
by Italians who use peon labor. Their
methods are primitive and of the
cheapest character , and their expenses
are very small.
That portion of the Argentine repub
lic at present devoted to wheat culture
Includes the provinces of Santa Fe ,
Buenos Ayres and Entre Rios.with the
south portion of the provincce of Cor
doba ( the province corresponding to
the "state" in the United States ) , and
the total area of this stretch of country
is about equal to the combined areas of
England and France. Only about one-
third of the land within convenient
distance of railways already construct
ed being as yet under cultivation , it is
obvious that there is room for consid
erable development even under the
present conditions of transportation.
The surface of this great section of
country is level and free from stones ,
devoid of timber , with few streams ,
having a rich soil , a temperate climate
( average summer temperature 74 de
grees F. , and average winter tempera
ture 57 degrees F. ) , and usually a plen
tiful rainfall , also during the spring
months constantly recurring night
dews.
The general character of the soil Is
the same in all parts , varying some
what In fertility according to the near
ness to or remoteness from the great
river Parana or the estuary known as
River Plate. The soil is composed of a
loose vegetable layer of black loam of 6
to 36 inches in depth , and under this
layer is usually found a deep subsoil
of a clayey , sandy character , and , lower
still , hard clay. This last named strat
um holds the rainfall , enabling the
ground to stand a long drought without
seriously affecting the roots of the
wheat plant. ,
It can be safely stated that an aver
age of favorable seasons may be looked
VESSELS LOADING GRAIN AT THE BARRANCA ROSARIO.
for , and that a serious failure of the
crop , as in the year 1889 , when , owing
to damage by rain , the export surplus
only amounted to 100,000 quarters , is
unlikely to recur , because the wheat
growing area has extended to such an
extent that it measures some 750 miles
from north to south , and 150 miles east
and west , with somewhat different cli
mates , and including districts as far
apart as London and Madrid , or Min
nesota and Louisiana.
The earliest settlers were Swiss , and
colonists of that nationality are today
among the best farmers in the country ,
living well in every way and proving
themselves successful agriculturists.
The small farmers throughout the
country are almost always Italianswho
originally came from Piedmont or ihe
plains of Lombardy , very few having
either previous knowledge agricul
ture or any capital to start with , but
they are keen for money , and work
hard in their own way , having quite
enough sense to learn from experience
by .slow degrees the best way to grow
wheat , although they are desperately
mean in any expenditure , and have a
strong inclination always to increase
their acreage and trust to a favorable
season.
By working fifteen or sixteen hours
one man can plow two or two , and a
half acres per diem with a single plow ,
or four or five acres on broken land
with a double plow , and if provided
with sufficient bullocks , and urged to
do so by good condition of the land and
suitable weather , will keep up this
work for a considerable time.
At very few of the 200 to 300 railway
stations where wheat is shipped are
found more than the most necessary
buildings , ' such as one or two genf-ral
stores , bakeries and smithies , and ,
very much to the disappointment ottHe
buyers of station lots , there seems no
disposition to build country towns or
create any local industries , except1 for
the making of simple agricultural im
plements , and there are no . local cen
ters or markets.
Land" being very plentiful , and very
easy to work in the Argentine Repub
lic , a family usually take up Crom 250
to 400 acres , and cultivates as much
as they can. The land is bought some
times for cash , or more usuaily to be
paid for by installments spread t.ver
four to seven years ; or is rented by
yearly tenancy ; but under a very gen
eral and most convenient arrangement
land owners are almost always willing
to have their land worked by any de
cent colonist "on shares , " receiving
" " ' " ' ' .Km 1 1 mm 1 1 1 1 -mihimm miiMiiVi 'T iiTi 11T > 11 Ji5553S88W8BHBBBBBBBMHBB BBB B
" " " "
' * * "
- * •
K
% -
9 I
- - • 1 H
r §
1 . ' • ' I
. 'I 1 K
. " t
- * - . >
' 6
HAULING WHEAT TO MARKET. I j
J. . !
from 8 up to 50 per cent of the prod
uct of every crop according to the fa
cilities given to the tenant , and this
r-ystem of working on shares is by far
the most usual , and seems to bo suited
to the present state of the country.
If the tenant is a poor man the land
owner may build the very simple mud
house that shelters the family and also
supply bullocks , plows , seed and sup
plies until the first harvest , and the
landlord then takes 50 per cent of the
crop , but if only the use of land Is
given 8 to 1 per cent of the produce
goes to the land owner as rent ; his pro
portion Is naturally larger on land that
is in a specially favorable position. If
the crop is a failure the tenant may
skip , having lost a year , but the land
owner has had his land broken up , and
is content to put that advantage against
his money loss.
The family would provide themselves
with vegetables from the farm , and
other household expenses and neces
sary clothing would cost about 2 per
month , and can be reduced according
to the frugality and meanness of the
family.
Good land situated conveniently near
to a railway station and within 100
miles of a port , may be valued at 1 ( $5
gold ) per acre , and the farm can be
worked by the colonist , assisted by a
young son and by one hired peon all
the year round , and by two extra peons
at harvest. About 175 acres can be
sown with wheat , and the remainder
of the land used for pasturing the ani
mals and growing a little maize ( corn ) .
Housework will be done by the wife ,
who also looks after some cows an
poultry.
Owing to the want of accurate information
mation from the multitude of smal
farms , it is very difficult to say wha
the average yield per acre really is ii
any year , and , although it has beei
customary to consider that the aver
age Santa Fe is not over 10 to 11 bush
els per acre ( similar to United State
averages ) , probably 13 bushels is near
er the mark for the entire country am
15 for good farms ; because , in recen
years , farmers have often threshed ou
25 bushels , and sometimes up to 35 am
even 45 bushels , while anything unde
10 bushels is exceptional now tha
farming has improved somewhat.
REPUBLICAN OPINION.
Ex-Candidate Bryan seems to be c
the impression that he and silver an
THE Democratic party. Despite thi
fact that such time honored and expe
rienced leaders as Senator Gorman ant
Chairman Jones and others , who wen
active in political life before Bryan wa ;
born , have urged the abandonment o
the silver issues in New York , Mr
Bryan has written a letter urging jus
the reverse of this. In that letter h <
insists that the Democrats of Greatei
New York should , and indeed must , en
dorse the national platform , which , o
course , means the free and unlimitet
coinage of silver at the ratio of 16 to ]
without the consent or co-operation o :
any other nation ; also renominatior
of William .Jennings Bryan in the yeai
of our Lord 1900 particularly the lat
ter. It is understood in inner Demo
cratic circles that there nre a few Democrats - ; J
J
ocrats in New York city and state who j
are inclined to the opinion thnt the f I
judgment of such men as Mr. Gorman , I
'I
Chairman Jones , ex-Governor Boies
and other men of. long experience is * ,
1
that of the Boy
quite as .valuable as
Orator of the Platte. What will be the I I
I
outcome of It nobody knows nor can v
Ito
foretell , though the indications point
to a widening of the breach in Democratic - I
cratic ranks and a loss by Mr. Bryan of I
very much of the support and friendship - I
ship of the leaders of the party which I
he seemed to have until he chose to , fl
defy them by Interfering in New York
I
election , with which he has no place or
fl
part
fl
What has become of that $1,500
speech which Mr. Bryan was to deliver jH
at the Ohio silver camp-meeting ? Also , jH
S
what has become of the camp-meeting
itself ? 'It seems to have been as flat | H
a failure as Bryan's paid "explanation" M
of why silver and wheat have parted M
M
company.
There is something of a contract between - > H
tween conditions under the McKmley ' " I B
administration and those under the -iff B
Cleveland administration. It 13 but a ; \ M
short time since President Cleveland | ' ' I P
was selling bords to bring gold into t'j | H |
the treasury , while now the McKlnley > \ | H
administration is actually rejecting of- I f H
' H
fers of gold which come to it from
various parts of the country. J H
The mad rush of the leaders of the j H
M
late Popocracy for a new l3sue to take
the place of the exploded silver theory H
has resulted in the nomination of Henry - |
ry George for mayor of Greater New j H
' York by a large element of the Democratic - ' M
cratic party of that city. Mr. George , M
as is well known , is the chief apostle j J
1 M
of the single tax idea , and his noniina- *
tion by a large element of the narty in | M
that city strengthens the belief whicit | M
has been growing for months that the | H
leaders of that party would adopt the | H
single tax theory to take the place of | H
the discarded free silver proposition of | H
H
last year.
M
The United States had in 1873 15
cents per capita in silver , and now has H
§ 8.77 per capita. Belgium then had H
$2.88 per capita ; now she has ? S.71 per f H
capita. Italy had then 86 cents per |
. . The Netherlands - J
capita ; now she has $1.35.
erlands had then $9.56 per capita ; now i |
she has $11.96. Austria-Hungary then |
had $1.11 per capita ; now she has $2.76. |
Australasia had $1.15 per capita ; now J
she has $1.49. Sweden in 1873 had 98 H
cents per capita in silver ; now she has fl
$1 per capita. Norway had 89 cents H |
per capita ; now $1 per capita. Russia |
then had 23 cents per capita ; now 38 j
cents per capita. The only nations j H
which have at all decreased are Great C l
Britain , France , Germany , and Den- H
mark. Great Britain's per capita is H
$2.96 instead of $2.99 ; that of France j H
has fallen from $13.85 to $12.94 ; that of H
Denmark from $4.16 to $2.35 , and that |
of Germany from $7.47 to $4.20 per cap- H
ita. This data will be of interest in j H
the campaigns of this fall where the H
silver question is discussed , if it is H
made an issue anywhere again. J
Cheap Labor- |
Japan Imports -
It is interesting to note that Japan H
is importing cheap laborers from Korea ' H
to work in her coal mines. Five years |
H
ago , the wages of carpenters were 33 *
H
cents a day. Now they advertise that
their wages have risen to 80 cents a day H
say Is. Sd. (40 cents in United States H
currency ) . The bogey of Japanese H
cheap labor , which many English writers - ' H
ers are so fond of calling up from the H
( to them ) vasty deeps of the unknown j f
east , is as illusory as any other phan- 1
torn. "London and China Telegraph. " J
Our opinion is that the "bogey" is |
still a living reality , as far as the " H
United States is concerned. A matter |
of 40 cents a day for the wages of car- * j H
penters may be an illusory phantom tc H
the poorly paid carpenters of England , H
but while carpenters are earning two |
and three dollars a day in the United |
States they desire to be protected . |
against the products of 40 cent |
I Hi
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I " SANTA ' FE ITALIAN COLONISTS CLEANING WHEAT. j H
B
SSgaM aMMMii-afir-TB -
