INTERNATIONAL PRESS ASSOCIATION.
-CHAPTER XXXII.—rCoNTiscBD.)
'They passed through London and at
3ast reached Paris.
On arriving at the station, Suther
land called up a fly, and ordered it to
■ drive with the greatest possible speed
•to the Hotel Suisse, a quiet establish
ment close to the boulevards. Once
tthere, he ordered a private room, con
ducted Miss Hetherington to it, and
proposed that she should wait there
while he went in search of Marjorie.
At first she rebelled, but she yielded
^at last.
“Yes, I will wait,” she said. “I am
^feeble, as you say, Johnnie Sutherland,
.and not fit to face the fog and snow;
.but you’ll bring the bairn to me, for
I cannot wait long!”
Eagerly giving his promise, Suther
land started off, and the old lady, un
.able to master her excitement, walked
feebly about the room, preparing for
the appearance of her child.
She had the fire piled up; she had
"the table ladened with food and wine;
then she took her stand by the win
dow, and eagerly scanned the face of
■every passer-by. At length, and after
what seemed to her to be hours of ag
• ony, Sutherland returned.
He was alone.
“The bairn; the bairn!” she cried,
• tottering toward him.
He made one quick step toward her,
and caught her in his arms as he re
plied:
“Dear Miss Hetherington, she has
-gone!”
For a moment she did not seem able
’to understand him; she stared at him
.’blankly and repeated:
“Gone! where is she gone?”
“I do not know; several weeks ago
she left this place with her child, and
’-she has not been seen since.”
The old'woman’s agony was pitiful
to see; she moaned, and with her trem
bling fingers clutched her thin hair.
“Gone!” she moaned. “Ah, my God,
•she is in the streets, she is starving!”
Suddenly a new resolution came to
her—with an effort she pulled herself
together. She wrapped her heavy fur
•cloak around her and moved toward
the door.
“Where are you goin£?” demanded
■ Sutherland.
She turned round upon him with liv
id and death-like face.
“Going!” she repeated, in a terrible
voice. “I am going to him!—to the
-villain who first learno-1 my secret and
• stole my bairn awa’!”
Miss Hetherington spoke firmly,
•showing as much by her manner as
'by her speech that her determination j
was fixed. Sutherland therefore made I
-no attempt to oppose her; but he called
up a fly, and the two drove to the
lodgings which had hi en formerly oc
>cupied by Marjorie anc Caussidiere.
To Sutherland’s dismay, the rooms
were empty, Caussidiere having disap
peared and left no trace behind him. \
For a moment he was at a loss what to
•do. , |
Suddenly he remembered Adele, and j
resolved to seek assistance from her.
Yet here again he was at a loss. It
would be all very well for him to seek
■out Adele at the cafe, l*ut to take
Miss Hetherington there tfas another
matter. He therefore asked her to re
turn to the hotel and wait quietly there
while he continued the search.
This she positively refused to do.
“Come awa1, Johnnie Sutherland,”
•she said, “and take me with you. If
I’m a woman I’m an old one, and no
matter where I gang I mean to find my
child.”
At seven o clock mat night the care
was brilliantlj- lit and crowded with a
roisterous company. Ad&le, flushed
nnd triumphant, having sang one of
her most popular songs, was astonished
to see a man beckoning to her from
the audience. Looking again, she savi
that the man was none other than the 1
young artist—Sutherland.
Descending from her rostrum, she ea
gerly went forward to join him, and
the two passed out of the cafe and
stood confronting each other In the
street.
“Adele,” said Sutherland, eagerly,
-seizing her hands, “where is that man
—Caussidiere?"
“CauESidiere?" she repeated, staring
at him in seeming amazement.
“Yes, Caussidiere! Tell me where he
1s, for God’s sake!”
Again Adele hesitated—something :
had happened, of that she felt sure, for
-the man who now stood before her was
-certainly not the Sutherland of other
days; there was a look in his eyes
•which had never been there before.
“Monsieur," she said gently, “tell me
first where is madame, his wife?”
“God knows! I want to find her. I
liave come to Paris with her mother
"to force that villain to give her up.
Adele, if you do not know her where
abouts, tell me where he is.”
She hesitated for a moment, then
■drew from her pocket a piece of paper,
scribbled something on it in pencil, and
pressed it into Sutherland’s hand.
“MfSi3ieur," she whispered, “if you
fi.ud her I—I may see her? dace—only
once again?”
“Yes.”
“God bless you. monsieur!”
She seized his hand and eager!? press
ed it to her lips, then, hastily brush
ing away a tear, she re-entered the
«afe, and was soon delighting ' her
«oarse admirers with another song.
Sutherland had been too much car
ried away by the work he had in hand
to notice Adele's emotion. He opened
the paper she had given him, and read
the address by the aid of the street
lamp; then he returned to the fly,
which stood waiting for him at the
curbstone. He gave his directions to
the driver, then entered the vehicle;
taking liis seat beside Miss Hethering
ton, who sat there like a statue.
The vehicle drove oil through a se
ries of well-populated streets, then it
stopped. Sutherland leaped out, and to
his confusion Miss Hetherington rose
to follow him. He made ho attempt
to oppose her, knowing well that any
such attempt would be useless.
So the two went together up a dark
ened court, and paused before a door.
In answer to Sutherland’s knock a lit
tle maid appeared, and he inquired in
as firm a voice as he could command
for Monsieur Caussidlere.
Yes, Monsieur Caussidiere wa3 at
home, she said, and if the gentleman
would give his name she would take
it; but this Sutherland could not do.
He slipped a napoleon into the girl’s
hand, and after a momentary hesita
tion she showed the two into the very
room where the Frenchman sat.
He was dressed not in his usual dan
dified fashion, but in a seedy morning
coat; his face looked haggard. He was
seated at a table with piles of paper
before him. He looked up quietly
when the door opened; then seeing
Miss Hetherington, who had been the
first to enter the room, he started to his
feet.
auttunuic; ue cAuuimeu iu r rencii,
"or shall I say Mademoiselle Hether
lngton?”
“Yes,” she returned quietly, In the
same tongue, “Miss Hetherington. I
have come to you, villain that you are,
for my child!”
“Your child?”
“Ay, my daughter, my Marjorie!
Where Is she, tell me?”
By this time Caussldiere had recov
ered from his surprise. He was still
rather frightened, but he conquered
himself sufficiently to shrug his shoul
ders, sneer and reply:
“Really, madame, or mademoiselle,
your violence is unnecessary. I know
nothing of your daughter; she left me
of her own free will, and I request you
to leave my house.”
But the old lady stood firm.
“I will not stir,” she exclaimed, “un
til I have my Marjorie. You took her ]
from her home, and brought her here. ]
What have you done with her? If
harm has eome to her through you,
look to yourself.”
The Frenchman’s face grew livid; he
made one step toward her, then he
drew back.
“Leave my house,” he said, pointing
to the door; “the person of whom you
speak is nothing to me.”
“It is false; she is your wife.”
“She is not rny wife! she was my
mistress, nothing more!”
Scarcely had the words passed his
lips when the Frenchman felt himself
seized by the throat, and violently
hurled upon the ground. He leaped to
his feet again, and once more felt
Sutherland’s hard hands gripping his
throat. “Coward a3 well as liar,” cried
the young Scotchman; “retract what
you have said, or, by God! I’ll strangle
you!”
The Frenchman said nothing, but he
struggled hard to free himself from the
other’s fierce clutch, while Miss Hetli- !
erington stood grimly looking on.
Presently Caussidiere shook himself
free, and sank exhausted into a chair.
“You villain!" he hissed; “you shall
suffer for this. I will seek police pro
tection. I will have you cast into
prison. Yes, you shall utterly rue the
day when you dared to lay a finger
.upon me.”
'i But Sutherland paid no heed. Find
ing that in reality Caussidiere knew as
little of Marjorie’s whereabouts as he
knew himself, he at last persuaded
Miss Hetherington to leave the place.
They drove to the prefect of police
to set some inquiries on foot; then they
went back to the cafe to make further
inquiries of Adele. On one thing they
were determined, not to rest night or
•'ey u itil they had found Marjorie
alive or dead.
CHAPTER XXXIII.
HEN Miss Hether
intgon was hasten
ing to confront
Caussidiere, Marjo
rie, with her child,
was walking weari
1 y through the
streets of Paris.
As the daylight
faded away the cold
had increased; the
snow was falling
heavily, soaking her through and
through.
Suddenly she remembered what the
milk-woman had told her; she would
go to the English ambassador—perhaps
he would give her relief and enable her
to get home.
She paused once or twice to ask her
way, but she could get no answer. She
was nothing more than a street waif,
and was accordingly thrust aside as
such. At last a little gamin gave her
the information she asked. The place
she sought was three miles off.
Three miles! She was footsore and
faint; she hsd nV. a bou In her pocket;
and her child was fainting with cold
and hunger. It seemed to her that her
last hope had gone.
Then she suddenly ; cmembered that
a certain Miss Dove, a wealthy Eng
lish woman, had fouided a home in
Paris for her destitute countrywomen.
She knew the address, it was nearer
than the British Embassy. She drag
ged herself and child to It. She had
just sufficient strength left to ring the
bell, when she sank fainting on the
threshold of the door.
When Marjorie again opened her
eyes she was lying in a strange bed,
and a lady with a pale, grave face was
still bending above her.
“Where am I?” she cried, starting
up; and then she looked around for her
child.
A cold hand was laid upon tier fever
ishly burning forehead, and she was
gently laid back upon her pillow.
“The child is quite safe,” said a low,
sweet voice. "We have put him In a
cot, and he is sleeping; try to sleep,
too, and when you waken you will be
stronger, and you shall have the little
boy.”
Marjorie closed her eyes and moaned,
and soon fell into a heavy, feverish
sleep. I
Having seized her system, the fever
kept its burning hold, and for many
days the mistress of the house thought
that Marjorie would die; but fortunate
ly her constitution was strong; she
passed through the ordeal, and one day
she opened her eyes on what seemed to
her a new world.
For a time she lay quietly looking
about her, without a movement and
without a word. The room in which
she lay was small, but prettily fitted
up. There were crucifixes on the wall,
and dimity curtains to the bed and the
windows; through the diamond panes
the sun was faintly shining; a cozy fire
filled the grate; on the hearth sat a
woman, evidently a nurse; while on
the hearth-rug was little Leon, quiet
as a mouse, and with his lap full of
toys.
it was so dreamy and so peaceful
that she could just hear the murmur of
life outside, and the faint crackling of
the Are on the hearth—that was all.
She lay for a time watching the two
figures as in a vision; then the mem
ory of all that had passed came back
upon her, and she sobbed. In a mo
ment the woman rose and came over
to her, while little Leon ran to the
bedside, and took her thin, white hand.
“Mamma,” he said, “don’t cry!”
For in spite of herself Marjorie felt
the tears coursing down her cheeks.
The nurse said nothing. She smoothed
back the hair from her forehead, and
quietly waited until the invalid's grief
had passed away.
Then she said gently:
"Do not grieve, madam. The worst
of your illness is over. You will soon be
well.”
“Have I been very ill?” asked Mar
jorie, faintly.
“Yes, very ill. We thought that you
would die.”
"And you have nursed me—you have
saved me? Oh! you are very good!
Who—who are you—where am I?”
“You are amongst friends. This
house is the home of every tine who
needs a home. It belongs to Miss Es
ther Dove. It was she who found you
fainting on our door-step, and took
you in. When you fell into a fever she
gave you into my charge. I am one
of the nurses.”
She added, quietly:
"There, do not ask me more ques
tions, for you are weak, and must be
very careful. Take this, and then, if
you will promise to soothe yourself,
the little boy shall stay beside you
while you sleep.”
Marjorie took the food that was of
fered to her, and gave the p'*omise re
quired. Indeed, she felt too weak to
talk.
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
NAVAL BURIALS.
Regulation* Require That ChrlsMan In
terment lie Provided.
The chaplain’s official station ”n most
ship ceremonies and in time of battle
is at the sick bay, where lie the sick,
says Donahoe’s. Discipline and fresh
air are wonderful preservatives of
health, and a chaplain’s duties to tbs
sick in times of peace are very light.
At naval hospitals, however, whither
are brought from the ships the very
sick and the seriously wounded, a
chaplain finds ample field for the exer
cise of that tender sympathy which
wins souls to God and for the minister
ing of the consolation of religion. It
is also the duty of the chaplain to as
sist at naval burials. The regulations
require that Christian burial be provid
ed for all men who die in the service.
If possible, the body is interred with
the rites of the church to which the
deceased had belonged. When this sad
duty is required at sea the ship is hove
to, the flag displayed at half mast,
and the officers and men are mustered
on deck to pay their last tribute to the
departed. The funeral services follow
and the body is then consigned to the
deep. A guard of honor fires three
volleys over the watery grave and the
bugler sounds the last “taps”—sad,
mournful notes of the bugle which tell
of the hour of sleep. If the death oc
curs at a hospital, an escort and a
guard of honor from the ship to which
the deceased had been attached ac
company the funeral cortege to the
grave. As the procession enters the
cemetery the bugler proceeds, followed
by the chaplain. This spectacle is al
ways impressive. It naturally suggests
the prayer that angels, led by the angel
guardian, may bear the soul of the de
ceased before the throne of God as
friends bear the body to the grave;
that the angel, at the judgment seat,
may proclaim welcome, Joy and glad
ness as the bugler at the grave recalls
loss, sadness and regret
>
AMERICAN LABOR.
ITS SUPERIORITY RECOGNIZED
BY ENGLISH SHIPBUILDER.
Alfred Yarrow Predicts That Amert-n
Will Soon Take First Place In fho
World's Strategic for Trad* Supremacy
Unless England Bestirs llerself.
Another English tribute to the su
periority of the protected labor of
America to the labor of free trade
Great Britain Is found In the re
marks of Mr. Alfred F. Yarrow of
Yarrow ft Co., of Poplar, England, who
is just completing a three months'
stay in the United States. Mr. Yarrow
has visited and inspected several of
the largest Iron and steel working
plants In this country and has bean
greatly impressed by the American
methods of work and their results.
Some time ago he wrote to the London
Times that If'the striking engineers
in England would select a committee
of three or four men to visit America,
Inspect the plants here, and make a
report to the strikers, he would gladly
defray the expenses of the trip.
“American iron and steel workers,”
said Mr. Yarrow, "are better paid than
English, but they do far more than
proportionately better work. They
have superior diligence, application,
and ingenuity, and take more inter
est in their work. It seems to be the
rule for each man to do as much as
he can, while at home every one Is
afraid of injuring his fellow workman,
and does no more than he has to. One
noticeable thing in connection with
this is the tending of automatic ma
chines. I have seen one man In
charge of several machines here, while
at home it is against the rules of the
union for a man to tend to more than
one. Consequently he Is Idle a con
siderable part of the time. When a
new machine is introduced into an
English shop the union decides the
rating of a man to tend it, instead of
allowing a man who is doing similar
work to take charge of the new tool.
lhe lowered prices of raw ma
terial In this country have put Ameri
can engineers into direct competition
with their English contemporaries,
and I believe this competition will
continue and grow keener. The ma
terials, etc., for the Central railway in
London, are being supplied by Ameri
cans, who are also shipping steel bil
lets to England, boiler plates to Hol
land, and deck beams to Belgium.
These are all centers of the various in
dustries using those materials, and
England formerly supplied them. I
foresee that America will soon take
the first place in the world unless
England bestirs herself and shakes off
the attitude of Indifference assumed
thirty years ago, when she was at the
head in engineering industries.
“During my visit here I have pur
chased a quantity-of small machine
tools which are superior to the Eng
lish makes. With such tools the price
is of small moment; the best is want
ed, no matter what the cost, though
prices here compare favorably with
those at home.”
Concealment and Evasion.
The depression of the cotton manu
facturing industry in New England
has been seized upon by the free trade
press as a sweet morsel to roll under
the tongue. With one accord they
gleefully point to the fact that protec
tion has not proved potent enough to
prevent the lowering of wages in the
factories of the Fall River district, and
hence “protection is a failure."
The fact of overproduction and the
competition hf southern factories
where wages are lower and the hours
of labor longer than in the mills of
New England are factors in the prob
lem which obtain no recognition; and
you will search in vain for any ac
kowledgment of the obvious fact that
it is directly due to protection that the
cotton manufacturing indust-y of the
United States has reached a stage of
development where competition lowers
prices.
.Such has been the invariable history
of protection; it has in no case failed
to stimulate competition and cheapen
the cost of production through ths in
troduction of improved mechanical ap
pliances and through the develop
ment of a higher degree of efficiency
in labor.
It is only by concealing the facts
and ignoring the logic of the case that
the present condition of the trade in
manufactured cotton can be used as
an argument against protection.
Tlmelj Action.
It is not to be forgotten that the
present good showing of the govern
ment receipts, activity in private busi
ness, enlarged employment and better
wages, are a year in advance because
of President McKinley’s calling of the
fifty-fifth congress into extraordinary
session. The settlement of the tariff
then removed it from consideration
now. Had not the special session been
called the period of waiting would
have been prolonged till the present
time in every business which must
know the tariff rates before it ventures
beyond present needs of the market.
One of the greatest services the Mc
Kinley administration and Republican
congress were, or will be, able to ren
der the country was their prompt at
tention to the revenues and restora
tion of the protective policy.—Utica
Herald.
The World Will Buy of L'«.
Among the exports not diminished
by the operation of the Dlngley tariff
may be mentioned American horses.
Recent auction sales in New York,
Cleveland and Chicago indicate a
much larger foreign demand for horses
of speed, style and finish than ever be
fore known. It is also noticeable that
the home market for fine horses has
improved as a consequence of better
times and more money to spend for
luxuries.
The increased foreign demand is
only another proof of the fact that
protection erects no barriers against
trade that are not easily surmounted
by superiority in the quality of the ar
ticles offered for sale.
If we have what the world wants,
and if the price suits, the world will
buy of us, whether it be horses, bi
cycles, locomotives, sewing machines,
watches or foodstuffs, tariff or no
tariff.
Proof of this is found In the largely
Increased volume of trade with foreign
countries since the enactment of the
Dlngley law.
Will Adopt Protection.
With less than halt a century of
tree trade Great Britain is losing her
hold, and her great thinkers are al
ready casting about for some means of
maintaining the status she reached su
preme in the world of commerce. Five
hundred years of the strongest protec
tion in the history of a world of pro
tected countries placed her in the pre
eminent position, the credit -for which
is claimed by free traders for the few
years of free trade. The principle of
protection to her own Industries is the
cornerstone of British diplomacy all
over the world today. There Is many
an indirect way of protecting her
manufactures and she has made good
use of them all, but every day
strengthens the proof that a tariff Is
the best protective engine, and'lt is
but a matter of a short time until the
British protective system will be ex
tended into a harmonious tariff wall
about the whole empire—-Canadian
Manufacturer,
Fruits of Protection,
A Case of Sour Crapes.
Trade Follows the Flos.
“Why,” It may be asked, “Is our com
merce with Venezuela so much larger
and more profitable than it is with oth
er South American countries, where, as
a rule, we are scantily represented?"
The answer is not far to seek—there
Is an American steamship line to Ven
ezuela while there is none to Brazil,
to Argentine, to Uruguay or to Chill.
That “trade follows the flag” has never
been more brilliantly exemplified than
in our relations with Venezuela. In 20
years our commerce with that country
has Increased more than five-fold, and
under reciprocity it la capable, of
course, of even further expansion.—
Boston "Journal.”
Uuder Happy Auspices.
The new tariff act has successfully
passed the crucial period. It is restor
ing the industries of the country to
prosperity, is giving work to Idle labor,
is giving the American markets to
American products, and last, but not
least, it is replenishing the national
treasury and putting an end to the
ruinous bond sales that marked and
marred the administration of President
Cleveland. Let us all rejoice. The new
year opens under the most happy au
spices.—Wilkesbarre “Record.”
Has Confounded Its Knemics.
The enemies of protection and of the
Republican party have pursued the
Dingley tariff bill with g malignity
that was born of hate and the disap
pointment growing out of baffled
schemes. But the Dingley tariff has
Justified the confidence its framers
have reposed in it. - It has surprised
its friends and confounded its enemies.
—Buffalo “News.”
Will Control the World's Markets.
A glance at the list of manufactured
articles which we export is well calcu
lated to create the impression that our
manufacturing resources are being de
veloped at a remarkable rate and that
the statement that we shall have con
trol, virtually, of the markets of the
world before many years is not an ex
travagant one.—Savannah (Ga.J News,
free trade.
Rtllrnad Prosperity.
Earnings of 156,221 miles of railroad
in the United States for 1897 are re
ported by Dun's Review at $963,442,
095, being 4.7 per cent larger than
last year, and only 4.7 per cent less
than in 1S92, with some of the best
reads yet to come in. Every month
since August has shown larger earn
ings than in any previous year.
Protection nnd Itevenue,
Here is a tariff which not only pro
tects the home market but increases
the revenues.—St. Louis “GIobe-Eemo
crat.”
Tho counterfeiter may have been
brought up well but he always turns
out queer.
Tariff* and ffifn
The silliest newspaper In the world,
which, again we regret.to say, Is print
ed in Chicago, on Monday evening dis
coursed thus:
“Everybody on earth except a parti
san statesman knows tha-; wages and
tariff have no more to do with one an- .
other than the Elgin market has on the
effect of the green cheese In the moon.
Wages are higher In free-trade England
than In protected Germany, and ' In
both countries wages are much lower
than were paid in this country under
the Wllson-Gorman tariff reform law.’'
How positively people who know
nothing do speak. The price of labor,
like that of potatoes, is regulated by
conditions of demand and supply. Th«
price of labor in England Is higher
than in Germany because the demand
for labor Is greater. The price of la
bor in the United States Is greater
than in England because the demand
is greater here than there. The de
mand for labor is greater in England
than in Germany because England still
has commercial supremacy in Europe;
and she attained that supremacy by
hundreds of years of rigidly protective
tariffs, and has held it (though in a
considerably diminishing degree) since
she adopted a free-trade policy simply
because of the immense lead that she"
had gained during her protective era.
Germany now 1b gaining fast upon f
England, and in due time the German
rate of wage will exceed the British,
unless the Increase of laboring popu
lation shall exceed the rate of increase
of demand for labor.
In the United States the demand fo»
labor is dependent very largely, if not
absolutely mainly, upon our tariff con
ditions. The Wllson-Gorman tariff
closed three-fourths of our woolen
mills by admitting the products of the
cheaper labor of English mills to our
market In large quantities. The con
sequence was that the demand for la
bor was lowered, and therefore the
wages of labor were lowered. In all
branches of trade the demand for
workmen decreased, and universally
the price of labor went down. We had
souphouses and free lodging-houses for
unemployed men simply because tha
demand for American labor was di
minished, and in some trades almost
extinguished, by a faulty tariff. It la
too early to forget the awful lesson pf
the Wilson law. No sooner was a truly
protective tariff re-established than tha
demand for labor increased. And
though the demand yet Ib not as strong
as in 1892, and consequently the wages
are not as high, we are moving toward
our old condition of great demand
and fair price. '
}.V
All except the silliest of silly news-*
papers understand that when a tin cup
or a coat or a shoe is made Jn Europe
an American is not paid for making
it. All except the most unwise of the : j
foolish know that when a dollar 1»
sent to Europe it Is not spent In the
United StateB.
The reduction of wages In the cot
ton mills of New Bedford has just this
degree of relation to tariff; protection
has enabled the south to spin and
weave cotton, as it has enabled the
north. But because manufacturing en
terprises as yet are comparatively few
in the south the supply of labor In
relation to the demand is greater there
than in the north, and consequently the
southern manufacturer can hire oper
atives more cheaply than the northern
Moreover, trades' unions are not strong
in the Bouth, and very foolishly have 1
excluded negroes from membership. *
But every mill and factory that runs
in the south Increases the demand for
labor, and works toward increase of
wages. And without protective tariff
few mills would be running. We com
mend to the silliest of all printed
things consideration of the fact that
between October, 1897, and January, .
1898, more than 400 new industrial
plants havp been started In the south,
and we help It to the Inferences that K
they increase the demand for labor,
and that they have been brought Into
being by the protective influence of tha
new tariff—Inter Ocean.
The Ill-Favored Thihotans.
The Thibetans occupy a very low po
sition In the scale of human advance- '
ment, especially If judged from our
western standard of civilization. Their ,
culture is Inferior to that of most semi
barbarous races, comparing unfavor
ably even with that of certain Indian .
tribes of the American continent, such
as the Pueblos, Zunls, etc. In physlog*
nomy and general appearance they
strongly resemble the inhabitants of
Swedish Lapland, as well as the Eski
mos of Northern Siberia, being Bhort
sized, broad-shouldered and possessed
of the same angular Mongolian feat
ures. Indeed, the Thibetans are, per
haps, the most ill-favored of Turanian
races. A close interbreeding during i
many centuries of' isolation has pro
duced a striking facial similarity, and
has developed a peculiarly repulsive
normal type of countenance.. A broad. -
very low forehead, excessively, promi
nent cheekbones, small oblique eyes,
and coarse, bristly black hair are char
acteristics which do not materially en
hance the beauty of the “human form
divine,” but the most singular peculi
arity of the Thibetan face is the al
most total absence of the bridge of the <
nose. Among a dozen Thibetans
chosen at random, hardly one will be ...
found whose nasal organ is not so com
pletely flattened or sunk in the middle
as to be practically level with the eyes.
Seen in profile, such a face presents a
ludicrous appearance : there is one con
tinuous line of cheek bone, with the
tip or the nose sticking out like a soli- '\
tary beacon. But a compensatory Prov- >
ldence has added to the ears what in /«
lacking in the probosal circumference. U
auricular appendages of the savage*
Thibetan are of generous siie.
Mm
and it is hut fair to state