INTERNATIONAL PRESS.ASSOCIATION.
. . ' CHAPTER II.—(CostiKCED.)
The sound of his feet upon the cause,
-way began the business of the day; for
. -sthe village was still sound asleep. The.
• -church tower looked very airy in the
■ .-sunlight; a few birds that turned about
it seemed to swim in an atmosphere of
, more than usual rarity; and the Doe
. ' tor, walking in long transparent
^shadows, filled his lungs amply, and
proclaimed himself well contented with
;the morning.
On one of the posts before Tentail
Mon’s carriage entry he espied a little
>' -dark figure perched in a meditative
:attitnde .and immediately recognized
-Jean-Marie.
'‘Aha!” he said, stopping before him...
^humorously, with a hand on either
• 'knee. “So we rise early in the morn
Jng do we? It appears to me that we
t -have all the vices of a philosopher."
yy The boy got to his feet and made a
> grave salutation.
“And how is our. patient?” asked
• -Despres. ,
U appeared the patient was about the
same.
“And why do you ■ rise early in the
•morning?” he pursued.
Jean-Marie, after a long silence, pro
• Jessed that he hardly knew.
"You hardly know?” repeated Des
rprez. “We hardly know anything, my
man, until we try to' learn. Interro
gate your conscience. Come, push me
Jhls inquiry home. Do you like it?”
Yes, said the boy, slowly; yes, I
3 ike «."
“And why do you like it?” continued
the Doctor. "(We are now pursuing the
. Bocratic method.) Why do you like it?”
"It is quiet,” answered Jean-Marie;
“and I have nothing to do; and then I
■feel as if I were good.”
Doctor Desprez took a seat on the
' [post at the opposite side. He was be
-ginning to take an interest in the talk,
for the boy plainly thought before he
■spoke, and tried to answer’ truly. “It
-appears you have a taste for feeling
.good,” said the Doctor. “Now, there
•jrou puzzle me extremely; for I thought
:you said you were a thief; and the two
are incompatible.”
"Is it very bad to steal?” asked Jean
Marje.
“Such Is the general opinion, little
boy,” replied the Doctor.
“No; but- I mean'.as I stole,” ex
claimed the other, “For I had no
I ^-choice. I think it . is . surely Tight to
bave bread; it must be right to have
Is.,--. bread, there comes so plain a .want of
It. And then they beat me cruelly If I
returned with nothing,”, he added, “f
was not ignorant of right and wrong;
for before that I had been well taught
by a priest, who was very kind to me.”
*(The Doctor made a horrible grimace
at the word “priest.”) “But it seemed
to me,, when one had nothing to eat
•end was beaten, it was a different af
fair. I would not have stolen for tart
lets,- I believe; but any one would steal
for baker's bread.”
*• “And KO T. iimnnm ” snfri fha ■
’with a rising sneer, “you prayed God to
forgive you, and explained the caso
'to Him at length.”
"Why, sir?" asked Jean-Marie. “I
.do not see.”
“Your priest would see, however,”
retorted Desprez.
“Would he?” asked the boy, troubled
•for the first time, “I should have
(thought God would have known.”
“Eh?” snarled the Doctor.
“I should have thought God would
liave understood me,” replied the
'other. “You do not, I see; but then it
was God that made me think so, was
dt not?”
"Little hoy, little boy,” said Doctor
.Desprez, “I told you already you had'
the vices of philosophy; if you display
the virtues also, I must go. 1 am a
student of the blepsed laws of health,
an observer of plain and temperate na
ture in her common walks; and I can
not preserve my equanimity in pres
ence of a monster. Do you under
stand?”
“No, sir,” said the boy.
“1 will make my meaning clear to
you,” replied the Doctor. “Look here
st the sky—behind the belfry first,
where it is so light, and then up and
up; turning your chin back, right to
the top of the dome, where it is al
ready as blue as at noon. Is not that
' a beautiful color? Does it not please
the heart? We have seen it all our
lives. Until it has grown in with our
familiar thoughts. Now,” changing his
tone, “suppose that sky to become sud-.
denly of a live and fiery amber, like the
-color of clear coals, and growing scar
let toward the top—I do not say It
would be any the less beautiful; but
would you like it as well?”
“I suppose not,” answered Jean
Marie.
"Neither do I like you,” returned the
Doctor, roughly. “I hate all odd peo
ple, ar'vd you are the most curious little
hoy in all the world.”
Jean-Marie seemed to ponder for
• a while, and then he raised his head
again and looked over at the Doctor
with an air of candid Inquiry. ”But
• v*s not you a very curious gentle
man ?” he asked.
‘.■he Doctor threw away his stick,
uounded on the boy, clasped him to
sis bosom, and kissed him on both
•cneeks.
“Admirable, admirable imp!” he
-cried. “What a morning, what an hour
for a theorist of forty-two! No,” he
-continued, apostrophizing heaven, “1
4W not know that such boys existed; I
! was ignorant they made them so; I
had'doubted of my race; and .now! If,
is like,” he added, picking up his stick,
“like a. lovers’■ meeting. I have!
bruised my favorite staff in that mo
ment of enthusiasm. The .injury, how
ever, is hot grave.’* He caught the
boy; looking at him in obvious wonder,
'embarrassment, and alarm. “Hello!”
said he, “why do you' look at me like
that?- Egad, I'believe 'the boy de
spises me. Do you despise me, boy?”
“O, no," replied Jean-Marie, serious
. ly;. “only I do not understand.”
"^?u excuse me, sir,” returned
the'Doctor, with gravity; “I am still so
young. .0, hang him!” he added to
himself.. And he took his seat again
and observed the boy sardonically.
“He has spoiled the quiet of my morn
ing,” thought he. “I shall be nervous
all day, and have a febrlcule when I
digest. Let me compose myself.” And
so he dismissed his preoccupations by
an effort of the will which he had long
practiced, and let his soul roam abroad
in the contemplation of the morning.
He inhaled the air, tasting it critically
as a connoisseur tastes a vintage, and
prolonging ‘ ihe expiration with hy
gienic gusto. He counted the little
flecks of cloud along the sky. He fol
lowed the movements Of the birds
round the church tower—making long
sweeps, hanging poised, or turning airy
somersaults in fancy, and beating the
wind with Imaginary pinions. And in
mis way He regained peace of mind and
animal composure, conscious of his
limbs, conscious of the sight of his
eyes, conscious that the air had a cool
taste, like a fruit, at the top of his
throat, and at last, in complete ab
straction, he began to sing. The Doe
.tor had but one air—“Malbrouck s’en
va-t-en guerre;” even with that he was
on terms of mere politeness; and his
musical exploits were always reserved
for moments when he was alone and
entirely happy.
He was recalled to earth rudely by a
pained expression on the boy’s face.
“What do you think of my singing?"
he inquired, stopping in the middle of
a note; and then, after he had waited
some little while and received no an
swer, "What do you think of my sing
ing?” he repeated, imperiously.
“I do not like it,” faltered Jean
Marie.
“Oh, come!” cried the Doctor. “Pos
sibly you are a performer yourself?”
' “I sing better than that,” replied the
boy.
The Doctor eyed him for some
seconds in stupefaction. He was aware
that he was angry, and blushed for
himself in consequence, which made
him angrier.1 “If this is how you ad
dress your master!” he said at last,
with a shrug and a flourish of his
arms. > .
“I do not speak to him at all,” re
turned the boy. “I do not like him.”
“Then you like me?” snapped Doctor
Desprez, with unusual eagerness.
“I do not know," .answered Jean
Marie.
The Doctor rose. “I shall wish you
a good-morning,” he said. “You are
too much'for me. Perhaps you have
blood In your veins, perhaps celestial
ichor, or, perhaps you circulate noth
ing more gross than respirable air;
but of one thing I am inexpugnably
assured:—that you are no human
being. No, boy”—shaking his stick at
him—“you a»e not a human being.
rue, write « in your memory—‘I
am not a human being—I have no pre
tension to be a human being—I am a
dive, a dream, an angel, an acrostic,
an illusion—what you please, but not
a human being.’ • And so accept my
humble salutations and farewell!”
And with that the Doctor made oft
along the street in some emotion; and
the boy stood, mentally gaping, where
he left him. > *
CHAPTER III.
ADAME DESPREZ
who answered to
the Christian name
of Anastasle, pre
sented an agreeable
type of her sex; ex
ceedingly whole
some to look upon,
a stout brune, with
cool.smooth cheeks,
steady,-dark eyes,
and . hands that
neither art nor nature could improve.
She was the sort of person over whom
adversity passes like a summer cloud;
she might, in the worst of conjunc
tures, knit .her brows into one vertical
furrow for a moment, but the next it
would be gone; She had much of the
placidity of a contented nun; with lit
tle of her piety, however; for Anas
tasle was of a very mundane nature,
fond of oysters and old wine, and
somewhat bold pleasantries, and de
voted to her husband for her own sake
rather than for his. She was imper
turbably good-natured, but had no idea
of self-sacrifice. To live in that pleas
ant old house, with a green garden be
hind and bright flowers about the win
dow, to eat and drink of the best, to
gossip with a neighbor for a quarter
of an hour, never to wear stays or a
dress except when she went to Fon
tainebleau shopping, to be kept in a
continual supply of racy novels, and
to be married to Doctor Desprez and
have no ground of jealousy, filled the
cup of her nature to the brim. Those
who had known the Doctor in bachelor
days, when he had aired quite as many
theories, but of a different order, *(•
trlbuted his present philosophy to the.
study of Anastasie. It was her hrute
enjoyment that he rationalized and per
haps, vainly imitated.
Madame Desprez was an artlsf in the
kitchen, and made coffee to a nicety.
She had a knack of tidiness, with which
^he had infected the Doctor; every
vning was in its place; everything
capable of polish shone gloriously; and
dust was a thing banished from her
empire. Aline, their' single servant,
had no other business In the world but
to scour add burnish. So Doctor Des
prez lived in his house like a fatted calf,
warmed and cosseted to his heart’s
orient. , ‘ <.-■
The midday meal was excellent.
There was a ripe melon, a fish from the
river in a memorable Bearnalse sauce,
a fat fowl in a fricassee, and » dish of
asparagus, followed by some fruit. The
Doctor drank half a bottle plus one
glass, the wife half a bottle minus
the same quantity, which was a marital
privilege, of an- excellent' Cote-Rotle,
seven- years old. Then the coffee was
brought, and a flask of Chartreuse tor.
madame, for the Doctor despised and
distrusted such decoctions; and then
Aline left the wedded pair to the pleas
ures of memory and digestion.
“It is a very fortunate circumstance,
my cherished one,” observed the Doc
tor—“this coffee is adorable—a very,
fortunate circumstance upon the Whole'
—Anastasie, I beseech you, go without
that poison for to-day; only; one day,
and you will feel the benefit, I pledge
my reputation.”
“What is this fortunate circumstance,
my friend?” inquired Anastasie, not
heeding his protest, which was of dally
recurrence.
"That we have no children, my
beautiful,” replied the Doctor. "I
think of it piore and more as the years
go on, and with more and more grati
tude toward the Power that dispenses
auun BuiicuoBs. iour neaun, my uar
ling, my studious quiet, our little kitch
en delicacies, how they would all have
suffered, how they would all have been
sacrificed! And for what? Children
are the last word of human Imperfec
tion. Health flees before their face.1
They cry, my dear; they put vexatious
questions; they demand to be fed, to
be washed, to be educated, ■ to have,
their noses blown; and then, when the
time comes, they break bur hearts, a&
I break this piece of sugar. A pair of
professed egoists, like you and-me,
should avoid offspring, ilke an infidel
ity.”
"Indeed!” said she; and she laughed.
“Now, that is like you—to take credit
for the thing you could not help.”
"My dear,” returned the Doctor;
solemnly, “we might have adopted.”
“Never!” cried madame. “Never,
Doctor, with my consent. If the child
were my own flesh and blood, I would
not’ say no. But to take another per
son’s indiscretion on my shoulders, my
dear friend, I have too much sense.”
“Precisely,” replied the Doctor. “We
both had. And I am all the better
pleased with our wisdom, because—be
cause—” He looked at her sharply.
“Because what?” she asked, with a
faint premonition of danger.
“Because I have found the right per
son,” said the Doctor firmly, “and shall
adopt him this afternoon.”
' Anastasie looked .at him out of a
mist. “You have lost your reason,” she
said; and there was a Clang in her
voice that seemed to threaten trouble.
“Not so, my dear,” he replied; “I re
tain its complete exercise. To the.
proof; Instead of attempting to cloak
my inconsistency, I have, by way of
preparing you, thrown It info strong
relief. You will there, I think, recog
nize the philosopher who has the ec
stacy to call you wife. The fact. Is, I
have been reckoning all this while
without an accident. I never thought
tb find a son of my own. Now, last
night, I found one. Do not unneces
sarily alarm 'ourself, my dear; he Is
not a drop of blood to me that I know.
It is his mind, darling, his mind that
calls me father."
“His mind!” she repeated, with a
twitter between scorn and hysterics.
“His mind, indeed! Henri Is this an
idiotic pleasantry, or are you mad? His
mind! And what of my mind?”
•Tom rovTivirit».»
A Good gfitem.
The young postmaster of a village
was hard at work in his office when a
gentle tap was heard upon the door
and in stepped a blushing maiden of 16,
with a money order which she wished
cashed. She handed it, with a bash
ful smile, to the official, who, after
closely examining it, gave her the
money it called for. At the same time
he asked her if she had read what was
written on the margin of the order.
"No, I have not,” she replied, “for
I cannot make it out. Will you please
read It for me?”
The young postmaster read as fol
lows: "1 send you 10s. and a dozen
kisses.”
Glancing at the bashful girl he said:
“Now, I have paid you the money and
I suppose you want the kisses?”
“Yes,” she said, “if he has sent me
any kisses 1 want them, too.”
It is hardly necessary to say that the
balance of the order was prompter paid
and in a scientific manner.
On reaching • home the delighted
maiden remarked to her mother:
“Mother, this postofflce system of
ours is a great thing, developing more
and more every year, and each new
feature seems to be the best. Jimmy
sent me a dozen kisses along with the
money order, and the postmaster gave
me twenty. It beats the special de
livery system all hollow.”—Tid-Bits.
Lc:a it News.
Mrs. Gadabout. What was the news
at the sewing circle today, my dear?”
Mrs. Onthego: “Mrs. Buddins has a
new cook, and Mrs. Remnant has the
same one she got two days ago.”—
Philadelphia North American,
"OHOi to:irn.AiN
-CAUSE PROSPERITY HAS NOT
BEGUN BEFORE POSSIBLE.
Thr Krnayii' Why'ISn'Inrai tin* Not Re
Wveil- Mors 4tn pldlj — I li t rr*>«tlii|[ ln<
tnrvUnr with Srn nor' C ulluiil on the
Ivinjilnlnta Al.uut Uu^lu«a> Conditions
(Washington Correspondence.)
Incredible as It may appear, there are
apparently some people In tho United
States who are Impressed with the cry
which the Democrats are raising that
“the promised prosperity has not
.come.” It seems difficult to understand
why anybody could expect thfi business
Improvement promised by legislation
to occur before the legislation is had.
. but they evidently do. Judging from
the reports reaching here.
Reports reaching here indlcate.a dis
position on the part of some persons to
Join in the complaint which the Dem
ocrats are fostering by these meaning
less and absurd statements.
“I can not think It true, however,"
6a!d Senator Cullom of Illinois, talk
ing on this subject, “that the people
ais a class have any such thought. It
Is to be expected of course that'those
who are opposed' to the' Republican
party politically, especially those who
are willing to make any sort ot trouble
for political effect, would put afloat and' i
encourage suggestions of this sort. But
I can not believe that the thinking
people, wW know that It Is Impossible
1 to enact a tariff law In a single month,
or even In two or three months, are
making the complaint which the news
papers and politicians are charging
them with.”
"You do not think It reasonable,
then, to expect prosperity and business
activity until some legislation is had?”
course the result of the election last
fall showed to the country that the
stability of our currency system Is not
to be destroyed. But the same vote
which gave confidence to the business
public as regards further destruction
of our business conditions showed
them that a restoration of the pros
perity which existed under a protective
tariff could not be accomplished with
out legislation."
“By the term legislation, you refer
of course to the tariff bill.”
"Yes. That Is at least the first step
In legislation promised, and the first
step necessary to restore business ac
tivity.”
“The mere promise that such legis
lation is to be had you do not' coU
sider sufficient to start the factories,
then?”
“No. On the contrary, in many
cases, the knowledge that such legis
lation is to be had reduces the amount
of work they are able to perform un
til the proposed law is actually upon
the statute books. Ih not a few cases
the effect will be felt still longer, for
wherever an importer sees that rates
of duty are likely to be increased on a
given class of articles he is rushing
those articles into the country in en
ormous quantities. The result is that
the manufacturers are not only Unable
to determine what they can do in
prices until they know what the new
tariff law Is to actually be when it is
placed upon the. statute books, but
they also know that the country is be
ing flooded with an unusual quantity
cf goods at the lower rates.” -
“The result, then, upon tho manu
facturer must be to reduce his business
activity rather than increase It for the
present?”
"Certainly. This has always been
the effect to a greater or less, extent of
tariff legislation. Everybody familiar
with the history of our former tariff
bills will remember that the mere fact
that changes were about t,o be made In
the tariff law was of itself sufficient to
compel a temporary suspension of man
rfnntiirlntr nr a* leant
prices and the possibility of making
contracts that business was to a great
extent suspended among that class of
citizens. This Is especially true whan
a tariff is to be changed from a lower
to a higher rate, for not only is
there uncertainty on the part of the
manufacturer as to what his prices
must be in the future, but there is a
certa.inty in his mind that the country
ij being filled with cheap foreign goods
c.t the old tariff rates which will be
peddled out in competition with him
for many months.”
"It is a fact, then, is It,, that very
large quantities of foreign goods ar$
now being brought in and are likely to
continue to compete with our own
manufacturers for many months yet?”
"Certainly. Anybody who will take
the trouble to examine the customs col
lections now being made at New York
and other ports will see that at a
glance. From the day congress mot
and began consideration of the tariff
bill the receipts from customs increased
enormously, doubled, and sometimes
trebled. This means that the quanti
ty of dutiable goods being brought in
now and for many weeks past is more
than double the ordinary importations
for the same length of time. In addi
tion to tHis enormous quantities of
goods now on the free list, but likely
to be transferred to the dutiable list,
are being brought in, but not indicated
in the increase in customs receipts. So
when you take these facts into consid
eration, any of us can with a moment's
thought, that the manufacturers can
not make contracts to go on with their
manufacturing enterprises until they
know what the now law ia to ba and
that even when they do know this they
will be hampered for many months by
the enormous quantities of foreign
goods which the importers cf this coun
try and the manufacturers and dealers
abroad have forced Into the United
States, filling the bended warehouses,
I end causing the opening of new ones
[ In every direction. The result is that
it.'wiH be months before manufactur
ers can resume the activity which ex
isted upd^r the' McKinley law. .Not
only jhase they be able to fix definite
rates after they know what, the new
law is to he, but they must wait for
some proportion of the enormous flood
of foreign mado gocdscow cpfnlr.g in
to disappear! While it,was expected
that the retfdsfiective clause of the bill
would in time check tkcsc'*importA
t'lOns, it has not yet done so, because
importers order their gdods months
ahead, and the .act is only to ap|>iy to
goods ordered after April 1.
"These are things," continued Sena
tor Cullom, as he resumed his paper,
“which the Intelligent people of1 the
country ought to understand—-and they,
are intelligent; and if they Will stop
to think a moment of these facts, I am
sure they w'lll understand it."
G. H. WILLIAMS.
Question of Sugor Market.
• Mr. Henry Wallace of Des Moines,
Iowa, delivered an able and instruc
tive' address before a beet sugar con
vention at New Ulm last week. ' He
puts the question to the farmers in this
way: “Why grow 50 bushels of corn
to the acre and sell it at 20 cents per
bushel, when you can grow from 10 to
20 tons of sugar .beets to the acre and
sell it at from $4 to $5 per ton?"
Fifty bushels of corn at 20 cents
aggregates $10; ten tons of beets at $4
aggregates $40—and twenty tons of
beets at $5 would bring $100 per acre
gross. If the possibilities of profit from
beet culture are even as good as the
lowest aggregate named, it would not
take much to induce our northwestern
farmers to turn from corn and wheat
growing to sugar beet culture. All
the inducement they would need would
be the guarantee of a steady market
for the beets.
Could a steady market be insured if
a large percentage of our farmers wero
to engage In beet culture? On this
head Mr. Wallace presents some facts
and figures that are very striking. He
says there Is practically unlimited mar
ket in this country for sugar. Accord
ing to official statistics our people have
consumed during the past three years
an average of nearly 65 pounds of sugar
per head. To supply this demand we
have Imported during the last four
years an average of 1,672,613 tons of
sugar,. and to pay for this sugar re
quires about our total export of wheat
and flour combined. “We pay,” says
Mr. Wallace, “from $76,000,000 to $120,
000,000 a year for our imported sugar,
while our exports of wheat and flour
combined have been but about $95,000,
000.—St. Louis Globe-Democrat.
False Figure* to Bolster Free Trade,
A very careful and a thoroughly In
formed writer on finance has thrown
down a gauntlet which Mr. Worthing
ton C. Ford, chief of the bureau of sta
tistics in the treasury department dur
ing President Cleveland’s term of of
fice, must pick up, or confess himself
to be discredited. Mr. Ford has stated
officially that the exports of American
manufactures for the calendar year
1S96 amounted to $256,962,505, and
thereupon the Democrats have assert
ed the Wilson tariff to be the most ben
eficial of measures, acting directly to
ward enlargement of our foreign
trade, and,, of course, creating a de
mand for. home labor in the manufac
ture of the articles exported.
It may be said in passing that if the
free trade statement, "Tariff,is a tax
added to the price of the thing upon
wh’c'-i duty is paid,” be* true, then the
wages paid for the manufacture of ar
ticles of export must be lower thau
those paid for articles manufactured
for home use. For such exports must
compete with the “untaxed manufac
tures” of foreign countries.
But the gentleman who, under the
signature of "Statistician,” occupied
nearly two columns of the Inter Ocean
of WorinPRrinv wnivph all annolal nUnn
and boldly denies the accuracy of Mr.
Ford's figures, and in great detail sets
forth the name and value of every class
of manufactured exports during 1898,
and finds them to be not $256,962,505,
as officially set forth by Mr. Ford, btat
$138,493,637.—Inter Ccaan.
Tired of the Populist Combination.
The Topeka Democrat is a newspa
per of unimpeachable Democratic reg
ularity,which put Its brains in its pock
et and faithfully supported Bryan in
the campaign of 1896. This is what
it has to say about the matter now:
Fusion is dead in Kansas. A united
Democracy and no further fusion with
the selfish and arrogant People's par
ty. , The supreme duty of the hour for
Democrats in Kansas is to cut loose
from the festering corpse of the Peo
ple's party. The ranting Populists,
with full power to act, have tried their
hand at state government. Does any
sensible man want them back again?
We should profit by ■ experience. The
Democratic party did not win In the
late presidential campaign because it
took too heavy a load at Chicago in
its platform. Capital is proverbially
timid. The business Interests of the
country took alarm at the revolution
ary platform. It was a clear case of
“biting off more than they could chaw.'.'
The result should serve as a warning.
The Populist party Is doomed. It will
never command the confidence of the
pec pie. If the Democratic national con
vention in 1900 shall repeat the blun
der of 1896, in laying down a platform
to catch Populist votes, we believe it
will meet with even a greater disaster
at the polls than it did last November.
What Protection Did for Industrie!!.■
In 1870 the total amount of capital
invested in manufrc.ures in the Unit
ed States was $2,118,208,769. In 1890
it wa? $6,524,475,306. In 1870 the num
ber of persons employed in our manu
facturing Industries vrc.3 1 9C3.000. In
1890 It was 4,712,622. In 1370 the wazes
paid to employes of this description "
amounted to $775,584,343. In 1880 the
wages paid were $2,283,216,529. In 1870
the. value cf the products of Am.-.rican nv
factories was $4,232,325,442. In 1*30 it
had I pc’eased to $9,372,437,283. These ’ • .vf
are merely a few cf the salient features
to the progress of "t>-e nation tinder
twenty years of eosatinuous protection.
Here was prosperity which lasted—an
. era of widespread industrial develop* ' ’
ment. of ir ceasing employment and o!
rising wages without precedent in the
history of human affairs. , •
*he Legitimate froita of the Qhlcege
rUtform. > ' ‘ ^ :
In addition to this abandonment ol
the vital principle of tariff reform, the
convention at. Chicago nominated for
president a man who had Repeatedly
declared that the free coinage of silver,
was the only aim to be considered, add
who in the whole course of hi? can* . . ;
vaas either evaded questions about the •
tariff or absolutely refused to discuss ',
the subject. The cue was taken by
all the free silver orators and press, ,
and from first to last nobody heard a •
tariff speech or read a tariff editorial. *V;.
The subject was tabooed. There was
nothing but silver and abuse of sound
money Democrats.
Pour of the five Democratic members
of the House who voted for the Ding
ley, bill are pronounced silverites, and
the Republican silverites and Popu
lists In the House either'voted for the
bill or refused to vote at all. Not ’ .«'
even to this late day has- Mr. Bryan . ,
abated one Jot or' tittle of ,his cam
palgn position that free silver was the
whole thing.
■What impudence It Is, then, In Me
I^iHin and other sixteen-to-one-or-bust. ; .
enthusiasts to get up now and - howl
about the tariff principle which they
deliberately shelved In the national .’
convention, to gain protectionist allies *
with whom they are still cheek by Jowl. .
—Memphis Seim iter (Dem.). I:-/?
No Real Democratic Rain*. ’
Mayor-elect Harrison of Chicago,
spoils the beautiful theory which Dem
ocratic shriekers werd spreading
broadcast that the municipal elections
were a hopeful sign of restoration for
the Democracy, He admits that the
success was purely upon the question
of municipal reform and that national
questions did not enter into the cam
paign. Investigation of the conditions
attending Democratic success in other :
cities show that this was the case gen
erally. in not a single one of the
municipal elections did national issues
cut any figure, while in the state elec
tion of Rhode Island, where national.' .,
issues were at the. front, the Republl- '
cans increased their vote 20 per cent,
over that which they gave to Willihia
McKinley in 1896.
> Heavy Weight Clothing That.
Professor Wilson, who is now adding
to the $75,000 which he has drawn la
salary from the government during the
.Past few years, by writing articles at
so much per column for the New York
Herald, says in a recent attack upon
the Dingley bill that the wqol tariff
will add more than 25 per cent to the
cost of clothing. By this he means
that about $5 will be added to'the cost
of a suit of clothes. As the rate of
duty named by the bill averages 12
cents per pound, the professor must
calculate that 40 pounds of wool goes
Into a suit of clothing. But what bet
ter can be expected of a man who
framed such a measure as that now
upon the statute books bearing his
hame?'
The South Wants Protection.
The experience of the South in the
past few years with the new Industries
developing there, the manufactures and
the new demands which they call out
U« BU cuftiucucu IUC yiuitstuvo B«nu
ment very greatly. Not only has it in
creased the'demand for material for
use in the manufacturing establish
ments, such as cotton, lumber, iron,
coal, wool and other articles of that
class, but it has also proved advan
tageous to the general agricultural in
terests of that section.
Buddha's Birthplace.
Buddha Sakya-Munl’s long lost birth
place was recently stumbled upon ac
cidentally, according to the Pittsburg
Chronicle, by a government archaeol
ogical expedition In Nepaul, sent to
explore the country around his Nir
wana stupa at Konagamma. By a blun
der the expedition met the Nepalese
authorities 15 miles from the place to
be explored, near the tahsil of Bhag
wanpur, in the district of Buraul. While
encamped there a monolith of the em
peror, Asoka, was noticed standing ten
feet above the ground: Ob'it was m
pilgrim’s inscription . of the ninth
century, which led the expedition to
dig around the stones to a depth of
fourteen feet, when an inscription of
the emperor was found. He states that
in the twelfth year of his reign (about
239 B. C.) he bad erected this column
on the very spot where Lord Buddah
was born. Eighteen miles northwest of
the column the expedition came upon
great ruins of stupas, monasteries, and
palaces covered with forest and
stretching for five miles to the Ban
ganga river, the circumference being
about seven miles. This is the site of
Kapilavastu. the capital of Buddha’s
father, and will undoubtedly yield in
scriptions earlier than those of Asoka.
Excavations will be made there as
coon as the famine which is now af
flicting Nepaul is over—it is hoped next
winter.
' Trust. - - • v
Law may surround the right of prop
erty with ever so many safeguards, but
if personal integrity is not in the com:
munity our deeds and bounds are not
worth the paper they are written on.
—Rev. R. F. Johcnnot. .