I My Fellow Laborer.]
i
h*6(m
By H. RIDER HAGGARD.
1
CHAPTER V.—(Costiscbd.)
“The work must take care of Itself,
Geoffrey. You must discover the Se
cret of Life yourself; or perhaps you
had better put the whole thing in the
Bre and go back to practice. At any
rate, it has served my turn, and I have
done with it!”
“I don’t understand you!" I answer
ed, sinkihg into a chair. “Perhaps if
yon are not in too great a hurry you
will explain a little."
“Of course I will, when I have poured
out your tea. There now, listen, and
I will give you a lesson in human
nature, which, with all your brains, you
very much want, Geoffrey. I have been
In this house for fourteen years, and
I will begin by telling you that from
the day that I came in till to-day. when
I go out, you have never understood me
In the least. You have always looked
upon me as a simple-minded woman of
intellectual capacity, and with a genius
for mathematics, and no alms beyond
the discovery of scientific secrets. Now,
I will tell you. When I first came to
this house as a girl of fourteen, I fell
in love with you. You need not look
astonished—young girls sometimes do
that sort of thing. You were good
looking in those days, and very clever,
as you are now; and then you were
really and truly a gentleman, and one
sees so few gentlemen—I always think
they are the scarcest people in the
world!
Well, I nursed my secret passion
and held it so tight that neither you
nor your wife even guessed it. Even
in those days I could form a clear opin
ion, and I saw that she would not live
long, and that the time would come
when I should step into her shoes. So
I played upon her weak points, to
strengthen my hold over her, and wait
■ed. In due course the time came. You
were a long time before you proposed
to me after her death, and your head
was so full of your work that I believe
yould would have been longer, had I
not, by means that were imperceptible
to you, kept continually turning your
- mind into that channel. Even then you
did not love me as I wanted to be
loved; but I knew that this would come
after marriage. And then came the
crash, and the sudden appearance of an
obstacle against which no scheme of
m'ne could prevail, overwhelmed and
confused me, filling me with a sense of
impotence that I have never experi
enced before or since. If you could
know, Geoffrey, what a flood of un
utterable contempt rushed into my
mind, as I heard you maundering on
about your scruples and posterity! It
drowned my passion. I felt that I was
well rid of a man who could in cold
blood give me up to satisfy what he
was pleased to call his conscience! But
perhaps you will never quite know or
understand how near I went to killing
you that night!”
Here I started—the whole thing was
like a nightmare. Fanny laughed.
. "Don't be frightened,” Fanny went
on; “there's nothing more melodramat
ic to come. I am glad to say that pru
dential considerations prevailed! Well,
after that fiasco, I reviewed the posi
tion and determined to stay on—partly
from habit, partly on account of John
—partly, indeed chiefly, because I was
still foolish enough to believe in the
Secret of Life business, and foresaw
that when it did succeed my name
would be made, and that I should then,
backed as I am by my personal ap
pearance and capacities, be able to
marry whom I liked, or, if I preferred
it, not to marry, but to follow any ca
reer in life that might recommend its
elf to me.
“At last, however, the end came. I
lost all faith in our work, and saw that
you and I had only been making fools
of ourselves; and consequently I de
termined to sever a connection that
could not bring me credit or profit,eith
er now or in the future, and, being a
woman, the only way that I could pos
sibly sever it with advantage was by
marriage. For a long time I could
not fall in with anybody rich enough;
when at last a happy accident brought
the man within my reach—by the way,
I had thought of him for several years
—and, of course, I took my chance, and
married him before anybody could in
terfere. What is more, I actually per
suaded him to enter into an engage
ment to settle four thousand a year to
my separate use; so you see I shall in
reality be totally Independent of the
man!”
“And what do you mean to do with
yourself now?” I asked, feebly.
“Do! I mean to bask in the sunshine
and drink the wine of life—to know
what pleasure and power mean, to live
and become rich and great, and avenge
myself upon everybody who has ever
alighted or injured me! Oh, yes, I
shall do it, too! I shall use even that
miserable little Joseph, whom I just
now had the pleasure of promising to
love, honor and obey, as a means to
advance myself. He is a poor crea
ture, but sharp enough to be a member
of Parliament, you know'.
“That reminds me, he is waiting for
me at his club; he was afraid to come
'back and face you, so I must be going.
Wei?, good-bye, Geoffrey; I hope that
you will think kindly of me sometimes,
notwithstanding it all, and although
have for the first time in my life in
lulged in the luxury of telling you
averythlng that is in my mind. Ah,
you don’t know what a luxury It is to
be able to speak the truth just for once!
Do you know now that I am going to
leave you—it Is very odd—but I almost
feel as. though I loved you again, as
t used to do so many years ago! At
least I am glad to have spent all this
time with you. though I was often
dreary enough, because I know that I
shall never meet a man like you again,
and my mind leaves you hardened and
braced and polished by contact with
your bright Intellect, and by the con
stant study and application you have
Insisted on till it has become a second
nature to me. I shall miss you, Geoff
rey, but not bo much as you will mis3
me. You will be miserable without me,
and no other woman can ever fill my
place, because I do not believe that
you -can find any who is my equal in
Intellectual resource. You see what
happens to people who indulge in
scruples! Are you not sorry that you
did not marry me now?”
“Fanny,” I answered, solemnly, for
by this time I comprehended the whole
horror of the position, “I thank the
Providence which preserved me from
joining my life to that of a woman so
wicked as yourself!”
“Really, Geoffrey, you are quite en
ergetic! I suppose that you are plquegl
at my going. Well, I must be going,
but before I go I will lay down a little
axiom for your future guidance; I fear
you will think it cynical, but the truth
is often cynical. ‘Never trust a woman
again,.^Remember that she always has
a tnotive. If she is under twenty-live,
sfcek for it in her passions; after that
in her self interest.' ”
.At tnis moment her lace changed,
and as it did I heard the tap! tap! of
poor John’s crutches as he came down
the passage.. The door opened and the
boy entered—a feeble,"' Undersized lad,
with a pinched-up white face and a pair
of beautiful blue eyes.
“Cousin Fanny,” he said (he al
ways called her cousin), as he entered,
“where are you? I have been looking
for you everywhere. Why have they
been taking away your big box? You
are not going away to stay without me,
are you?”
“Your cousin is going away for good,
John,” I said; and next moment I re
gretted it, for it was dreadful to see
the look of agony that came upon the
poor lad’s face. He loved Fanny with
all the strength of his sensitive and
exaggerated nature, and for years had
scarcely been able to bear her absence,
even for a day.
“Oh, no! no!” he screamed, hobbling
up to her and catching hold of her
dress in his hands. “Don’t say you’re
going, cousin! You can't go and leave
me behind.”
“Geoffrey,” she said in a choked
voice, “let me take the boy with me.
He is my weak point. I love him as
though he were my own. Let me take
him. He shall be looked after!”
“I had rather see him dead!”. I an
swered, sternly, little guessing how
soon I should be taken at my word.
She stooped down and kissed the lad,
and then turned and went swiftly—al
most at a run. He seized his crutches
and limped down the passage after her
at an astonishing pace, calling her by
name as he went, till presently one of
the crutches slipped, and he fell help
less upon the stone flooring, and lay
there, still screaming to her through
the hall door, which she slammed be
hind her. When I reached him he was
in a fit!
The whole thing formed the most
horrible, and in its way the mo3t tragic
scene that I ever saw; and I often
dream of it even now. And here I may
add that my poor boy never recovered
from the shock. He lingered three
months and then died in his sleep, ap
parently from pure inanition. Well, it
was a merciful release from a life of
almost constant pain!
That was the last time that I ever
saw Fanhy Denelly, or rather Fanny
Hide-Thompson.
CHAPTER VI.
HEN John had
temporarily recov
ered under the
treatment that I
had applied, seeing
that I could do
nothing t else for
him, I gave him a
sleeping draught,
and as soon as It
had taken effect, I
went down stairs
into the study in a very strange state
ot mind. I felt as though I had re
ceived some dreadful physical shock.
I had believed in and trusted Fanny
as 1 had trusted no other woman on
earth, except my dear wife, and the
lurid light in which she now suddenly
revealed herself after these long years
positively staggered and blinded me!
And yet, after it all, I was astonished
to find that I remained fond of the wo
man and missed her dreadfully. In
deed, it was a year or more before I
got over the feeling, and then I only
did it by the exercise of great self-con
trol. I had grown to depend upon her
so entirely that her help and society
seemed a necessity to me, quite alone
as I was in the world. Indeed, had it
not been for my own rather well-de
veloped pride, I do not think I should
ever have got over it. But this came
to the rescue. I could not bear to re
flect that I was intellectual and so
cially bound to the chariot wheels of a
woman who had for years been making
a tool of me, and who was, after all,
my inferior. And so by degrees I did
get over it; but it has left its mark
on me—yes, it has left its mark!
And then it was on that same disas
trous morning that a wonder happened,
so strangely and opportunely, that I
have at times been almost inclined to
attribute it to the direct interference
of Providential Power. When I was
worn out with thinking, I turned to my
work, more from habit than anything
else, I think, only to be once more ov
ercome by the reflection that there too
I was helpless. The work could not go
on without the calculations, and who
was to do them now that Fanny had
deserted me? I could not, and it would
be the task of years to teach anybody
else, however clever, for the under
standing of them had grown with the
experience. Besides, this I could never
afford to pay a man of the necessary
ability. It appeared, therefore, that
there was an end of my search for th<
Secret of Life, to which I had devoted
the best years of my precarious exist
ence. It was all but labor lost, an:
would benefit neither myself nor man
kind. This conviction rushed upon
me as I stood there by the pile of pa
pers; then for the first time I quit'
broke down under the accumulated
weight of sorrows, and, putting my
hands before my face, I sobbed like a
child! The paroxysm passed, and with
it passed, too, all my high ambitions.
I must give it up, and go back a fail
ure to what little practice I could get.
until such time as the end came.
CHAPTER VII.
S I stooped to gath
er tip the various
papers, I noticed
that on the table
before me lay a
great sheet of Fan
ny’s calculations,
which she had been
employed upon the
previous night. The
top of the sheet
was covered with
two dense armies oi ngures ana sym
bols, marching this way and that, but
toward the bottom they thinned out
wonderfully, till there remained two
little lines only of those that had sur
vived the crooked ways of mathemati
cal war. Evidently she had laid down
her pen (as she sometimes would) just
before the termination of the prob
lem, which 1 was aware she had boen
engaged on for several days. 1 knew
but little of the higher mathematics,
but I could see if the left-hand lino
were subtracted from the right, the
difference would be the result sought
for, provided the problem had been
worked out without error. I took a
pencil and did this idly enough. The
first time I made a mistake, but even
with the mistake the result was suf
ficiently startling to make me rub my
eyes. 1 did it again, and then sank
back into the chair behind me with a
gasp, and trembling as though I had
unwittingly raised a ghost!
And no wonder. For there before
me was the Key to the great Secret
for which we had been wearily seeking
?o many years! There was no mistake
about it! 1 knew what it ought to be,
and what conditions it must fulfill:
and there it was, the last product of
scores of sheets of abstruse calculations
based upon laws that could not lie.
There it was! She had stopped just
short of it, and at length I had tri
umphed!—the fast obstacle to success,
complete, absolute success, was gone!
I had wrung the answer to the great
question which torments the world
from the stony heart of the almighty
law that governs it!
"If she had known this, Fanny would
not have gone!” I said aloud, and then,
what between one thing and another, I
fainted!
(TO U- CONTINUED.)
A Sparrow’s Ride In a Fly Wheel.
Birds have all sorts of queer adven
tures, but perhaps what was the odd
est one of recent days is that which be
fell a sparrow at Anderson, Ind. It
flew into a knife and bar manufactory,
and, getting too near a small wheel,
was sucked in. The workmen noticed
It go into the wheel, but knowing that
the cylinder was revolving at a speed
of 130 revolutions a minute, took it
for granted that the bird was killed.
When the factory shut down at noon
the men were astonished to hear a gen
tle chirp from the wheel, and lo, there
was the sparrow as well as ever. They
found that the bird had clung to the
strengthening rod of the wheel, and
was In a semi-dazed condition. They
picked him up and put him on a table,
and thence, after collecting his wits,
the little bird flew to freedom. The
wheel in which the bird rode made
31,000 revolutions while it was upon it,
and so the tiny feathered creature
traveled seventy-three and eight
tenths miles in the embrace of a fly
wheel.
A Queer-Looking Word.
Supposing that you had been born
blind, and after living many years shut
out from the beautiful things of the
world, some skilled surgeon should give
to you your sight, wouldn’t you have
some marvelous experiences? says the
Chicago Record. An old man who had
been born blind had his sight thus re
stored to him. At first he started vio
lently and was afraid of the strange
things around him, the hugeness of tils
room and its contents. One of the first
things he saw at the window was a
flock of sparrows. "What are they?"
asked the physician.
“I think they are teacups," was the
reply.
A watch was then shown to him and
he knew what it was, probably because
he heard it tick. Later, on seeing the
flame of a lamp, he tried to pick it up
not having the slightest idea of its
nature.
A Groat Help.
Mrs. Poorman—It has been a hard
winter, ma’am. My three grown girls
have been very little help to me. The
poor things are not strong enough to
do the washing and they haven’t
[■lothes good enough to apply for any
work. District Visitor—But, you say
they have rich relatives; don’t they
look after them? Mrs. Poorman (sad
ly)—Only their morals, ma’am—only
their morals.—Goshen Democrat.
Almost Uncanny.
Yeast—We’ve got a new cook that’s'
a wonder. Crimsonbeak—What’s the
matter with her? “She’s been in the
house three weeks and no one has
heard her say what make wheel she'
rides.’’—Yonkers Statesman.
GOODCBOPS ASP PBICE
PROSPERITY RAPIDLY RETURN
INO TO THE LAND.
Talk With a Distinguished States man
and Agricultural Expert—B. W. Snow
Has 8ome Interesting Views on Con*
dltlons and Prospects.
Washington, D. C„ Aug. 1, 1S97.
It is seldom that the entire country
is blessed with such an abundance as
this year. In no section is there re
ported "no crops.” Illinois has
pehaps the poorest wheat yield
but her corn crop Is magnificent and
the small losses from winter killed
wheat sections do not amount to any
thing In the grand total yield.
Mr. B. W. Snow, the ex-asslstant sta
tistician of the department of agricul
ture, who Is still making a specialty
of agricultural statistics, said. In
speaking of the great agricultural
wealth of the country at this time:
"With the bountiful crops throughout
the United States not in prospect but
actually In hand, with Increased and
Increasing consumption at home and
a larger foreign demand for American
products and with prices, on the up
grade evan while the crops are still
on the Karens, this year of 1897 will
be remembered as a year of. great agri
cultural prosperity and plenty.”
"Harveotlng Is so far advanced, Mr.
Snow, that It Is no longer a matter of
estimate and conjecture as to the yield,
but in many cases you have the actual
approximate figures?”
"Yea. The crop season Is now so far
advanced that the final results can be
safely promised. Nevertheless the re
sult Is no less pleasing than the earlier
prospective hopes of the most opto
mlstlc. In no line of agricultural pro
duction is It a light year and in most
the yields are heavy. Hay has rarely
flourished as it has this year. The
abundant rains have given us a very
unusual crop and hay 1b a more im
portant crop than usually thought.
The rates of the new tariff law thor
oughly protect our farmers in this re
spect. The year’s wheat crop is the
second largest in the history of the
country, running upwards of 500,000,
000 bushels and well distributed over
the country. The corn crop promises
to be a very large one. The oat crop is
also well above the average. All the
minor crops are In promising form. The
fruit crop generally promises good re
sults. But these facts of large yield
and good promise do not tell the whole
story of prosperity. Prolific crops have
been harvested before, but in some
cases, have for want of consumption
and demand, proven a burden rather
than a blessing. It was a common
saying that the farmer would rather
have small crops with good prices than
large crops and no prices. But this
year come the abundant crops and high
prices, a rare combination and one
calculated to warm the cockles of the
heart of the thrifty farmer. Prices
are high and inclining upward. There
is no reason to fear a reaction and
slump because of the actual conditions
of tha world's crops. The United
States holds the key to prices. The
wheat crop of the world Is known to
be about 100,000,000 bushels short.
Argentina, India and Australia have
no surplus and Russia practically none.
Great Britain, France and Germany
are fgr short in their production of
their home demand. There was an
American surplus of last year's crop
of 70,000.000 bushels and the fortunate
thing is that this is in the hands of
the farmer. The advanced position of
wheat developed before the farmer had
disposed of his wheat to buyers and
now he will reap the full benefit of the
advance.”
"1:3 not the present crop larger than
was expected sometime ago, Mr.
Snow?”
"It is, and the quality is of the fin
est. In winter killed sections the
wheat braced up wonderfully. Fields
in Illinois whose plowing under was
contemplated early in the season have
made very fair yields and others with
a supposed small yield have shown by
the thresher enormous returns. The
actual increase in money in the hands
of the farmers through their wheat
holdings throughout the country is an
enormous sum. Wheat Is worth now
about 20 cents a bushel more than the
crop last year and the advance for
this year has just begun: The market
will continue to rise. The Increased
value of the wheat crop of Kansas
alone this year In comparison with last
amounts to nearly or quite $25,000,000,
while the increased value of the coun
try’s crop at present prices is in ex
cess of $100,000,000 over that of last
year.”
wnat are tne corn outlooks, Mr.
Snow?”
"Most gratifying. Although the sea
son started late the yield will be
large. 2,000,000,000 bushels is a fair
estimate as the rcreage is the largest
ever planted. Every indication points
to advancing prices in corn. Last
year at this time prices were shrinking
at the prospect of a large crop; this
year the tendency is upward. Millions
of bushels of oli corn now lie in the
cribs in the west and with rising prices
for this as well as the new crop, there
can be but one result.”
“All along the line of agricultural
production, including all live stock,
there is a general steady increase!
Large new flocks of sheep are con
templated as a result of the wool tariff
and the demand has increased the
value of the sheep holdings of the
country $10,000,000.
"But the finest point in all these
Increases is the fact that they come
Rt a time when the farmer holds his
products and that he Individually will
reap the full benefit. I have a little
table here prepared some days ago
for publication which shows the im
provement in cash values of leading
farm products. They are recent Chi
cago quotations for 1897 in compari
son with those exactly one year ago:
Wheat
Corn
Oats
Rye
Barley
Flaxseed
Hogs
Cattle
Sheep
1896
.68
.26%
.18
.29
.27
.73
92.90 to f3.20
93.95 to 94.30
92.00 to 93.80
1897.
. .77
.27%
.17
.39
.31
.83
93.40 to 93.60
94.40 to 94.90
92.35 to 94.00
"In these articles named, with the
single exception of flaxseed this year's
supply is larger than that of last and
the supply, as I .have said, is in the
hands of the producer."
O. H. WILLIAMS.
—
"Came la Oat of the Wet Johnnie."
The Outlook for Wool
We congratulate the American wool
growers upon their outlook. After
nearly flve years of steady deprecia
tion in the value of sheep and wool,
brought about solely by the Democrat
ic policy of free trade in wool, our Am
erican sheep owners will have protec
tion restored to their agricultural in
dustry and with it, we trust, an increase
in the number and value of their flocks.
While we wish no harm to Australian
sheep owners, the following extract
from the monthly wool circular of
Messrs. Ooldsbrough, Mort St Co., of
Melbourne, dated May 7, is of inter
est:
The pastoral position almost through
out Australia is at present one of great
gravity; the severity of the drought is
almost as acute as it is widespread.
The preservation of stock requires in
cessant effort, and mortality is increas
ing with painful rapidity, while the
prospects of a lambing season have sel
dom, if ever, been more unpromising.
Even in stronger confirmation of the
unfavorable outlook for the Australian
flocks, with a consequent decrease in
the production of Australian wool, is
the following extract from a printed
letter dated at Sydney, Australia,
May 8:
“Here we are passing through a se
vere drought—one of the worst expert-'
enced for many, many years, and I
think that nearly the whole crop of
lambs will be lost and possibly eight
to ten millions more sheep, so that you
may look for the numbers in this col
ony (New South Wales) going down
from 47 millions at December 31 last
year to about 35 to 37 millions at the
end of this year, because, even though
rain may come now, there must be a
tremendous mortality as the ewes are
lambing and the sheep generally are in
a very weak condition in moBt parts
of the colony. The bad season will al
so militate largely against the crops.”
If it be possible to collect a duty up
on all foreign wool imported in antici
pation of the enactment of a protec
tive tariff, either In such manner as has
been suggested by Senator Warren or
by an internal revenue tax, then the
improvement in the outlook for all
American wool interests will be even
quicker, stronger and surer.
That “Endleu Chain” Smaihed.
The eagerness of importers to evade
the new tariff had one noteworthy re
sult. It smashed the Cleveland inven
tion, that the drain of gold from the
treasury was due to our currency,
which furnished an “endless chain” for
the drawing out of gold. The currency
Is the same to-day it was when Messrs.
Cleveland and Carlisle were casting
about for any reason but the true one
to account for their bond sales. The
currency i3 the same and the treasury
is not drawn upon for gold exception
ally. The reason is the treasury has
money enough to meet the govern
ment's expenses. Republicans said ail
the while the drain of gold and the
bond sales were due to the tariff for
deficit and would cease as soon as rev
enue receipts equaled expenses.—Utica,
N. Y.. Herald.
Democrats Not Free Traders.
There are a great many editors and
a few public men who have deceived
themselves Into believing that the
democratic party Is a free trade party.
We need not pause here to Inquire how
so confusing an error got afoot. It is
sufficient to say that the time has
come to correct It.—“Constitution,”
Atlanta, Ga. .
We are indeed very glad to hear it,
and gladly do our part toward cor
recting the misapprehension by giving
the above Democratic statement the
widest possible circulation among our
exchanges and through our various
press services.
M’LEAN A GOLD BUG.
Mr. McLean, It appear*, has quite aa
arrest a fondness for cold as those other
gentlemen with whom he rles In his al*
leged friendship for silver. While hi
evidently considers silver good enough,
for the poor man, he does not consider
it good enough for John R. McLean.
There are plenty of evidences of this
in Mr. McLean’s business transactions :
in the District of Columbia. In his In* ■
vestments, which have been numerous
and large here, he has, where possible,
selected those payable in gold, and has
even gone so far as to discard any sll« :
ver obligations which may have Inci
dentally fallen Into his hands, so soon
as he found opportunity. An instance
is related la which a few years ago he j
purchased a number of bonds of the
District of Columbia of two classes.
These purchases were made lndlscrimi- ;
nately without reference to the classes
of bonds, but were soon followed by a
sale by McLean of a number of those
which he had apparently bought as a
permanent Investment. Observation as
to the class of bonds of which he was
disposing disclosed that he Invariably
retained. the gold bonds and disposed
of those which were not specifically
made payable in gold coin, although
they were guaranteed by the United
States. Mr. McLean has made no con
cealment of his motive in these transac
tion^ saylpg frankly that he wanted
the obligations which he held as an In
vestment payable In gold. On another
occasion, when one of Mr. Bland’s sil
ver measures was pending in congress,
and there seemed a probability that it
might become a law. it Is related on
good authority that Mr. McLean bur- g
rledly disposed of large quantities of
United States bonds, taking gold coin ’
In exchange therefor and depositing it
In the vaults of one of the great sate
deposit establishments of this city, pil
ing up many thousands of dollars of the
yellow metal against the possibility of
legislation in favor of sliver, which,
however, did not take place.
There are plenty of circumstance* of
this kind which might be detailed to
show Mr. McLean’s personal fondness"T
for the yellow metal and his unwilling*
ness to accept obligations which could
be paid In silver, of which he now
poses as a champion. While these art
Interesting and plentiful, they are omit* •
ted on this occasion in order to give
space for the details of a single transac* '
tlon showlug his fondness for gold and 1
distrust of the other classes of currency
which he and his associates in Ohio art
now seeking to force upon the massea
The transaction in question is that of
a contract made by him with the Col*
umbia Athletic club of this city in 1889,
In which he requires that organisation
to make sundry obligations, amounting
to $70,000, payable to him individually
In gold coin, both principal and inter*
est.
The transaction related to the con*
struction of a club house for this or
ganization, the Columbia Athletic dut
of the District of Columbia. In that
year he made an agreement with the
club by which he sold to It certain lots
In the fashionable northwest part of
Washington, near the War, State, and
Navy Departments, and erected there*
upon a commodious and costly club
bouse, the price of the land and the
club house being $70,000. This money
the club agreed to pay on or before the*
1st of March, 1909, and Issued bonds
payable to John R. McLean, bearing
his name upon their face. These bonds
he required tbs club to agree to pay in
“gold coin of the United States of the
present standard of weight and line*
ness,” also requiring it to pay the “in
terest thereon in like gold coin.”
There can be no doubt about the no
curacy of this statement. The bonds
were prepared and signed by the offi
cers of the club and turned over ta
him, and some of them have since
passed into the hands of other parties
who now hold them. Not only are these
bonds still extant and readily obtain
able by those who desire to verify this
statement, but a still more permanent
and unimpeachable record of this tran
sactlon Is found upon the official records
of the District of Columbia. The de
tails of the entire transaction between
Mr. McLean and the Columbia Athletic
club are set forth in a copy of a deed of
trust given in connection with this
transaction.
Tamed Over a Hew I,eaf.
If
^DE.
©I
_ . -Vs
The Lot of the Worker*.
In the United States, as well as in
Germany and Belgium, the lot of tha
workers is, upon the whole, more fa
vorable than that of the British Iron .
and steel worker.—Newcastle, England.
“Journal.”
Precisely so, because the policy ot
protection in Germany, Belgium and
the United States improves the condi
tion of wage earners. British fren
trade, on the other hand, impoverishes
their condition. '
