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The sound of Edith’* voice suddenly
recalled her to her niece, whom the
maids had raised to a sitting position.
She was staring wildly around, aa If
terribly frightened.
"Ia he dead?" she asked In a whisper.
"No, dear child, no" her aunt answer
ad reassuringly.
"Thank God." she muttered, and
strain lost consciousness.
A few minutes later she revived once
more, where the sight of the prostrate
man being carefully screened from her
by those around, she was assisted Into
the house, where she lay on a sofa In
the morning-room, with strict In
junctions from her aunt not to speak
until she returned.
For Lady Bysshe hnd now set herself
the task of breaking the news of Max's
condition to the count. She found him
wrapped In his dressing gown and sent
•d In a chair patiently waiting his
valet's return; he being gulte Ignorant
that anything unusual had occurred.
"That sounds like your step, Margar
. st,” he remarked os she crossed the
threshold.
"It Is I," she answered, her voice
shaking In spite of herself.
"Did you want me?" he asked In sur
prise. turning toward her.
"Only to tell you that an accident
has happened to Max.”
"It’s dangerous or you would not
come to break It to me?”
"I hope It Is not serious,” she replied
In as calm a tone as she could com
mand.
He stood up .grasping the back of
tils chair, his eyes staring blunkly, a
took of suffering on hls face that made
him seem old and broken. After a
minute’s hard struggle he said, in a low
roles that shook, "I can hear It now;
It will be a kindness If ypu let me
know the worst at once. ID Is dead.”
"No, no. he Is only wounded. As
•yet we don’t know how it happened; it
was an accident with hls revolver. The
factor has been sent for and every
thing possible is being done.”
The count sank Into hls chair, as If
He no longer had strength to stand,
and buried hls face In hls hands. Hls
shoulders shook.
"Was-he alone?" he asked, suddenly
raising hls head.
"Edith was with him; but she can say
nothing yet. She has Just recovered
from fainting, poor child.”
"Edith was with him.” he said algnl
Seantly, hls eyes fixing ihemselves on
•pace us If something hud suddenly ap
peared to him; then with deeper terror
»n hls face than It had yet expressed,
Se asked to be taken to Max. “I must
*ee him; I must be with him," he said,
41s voice shaking, hls hands out
stretched to feel the way.
She led him out of hls room, and
along a wide corridor until they reuch
»d a lobby at the head of the grand
italroHBe, where, hearing the sound of
voices and the shuffling of feet, they
•tood still, holding their breaths.
"The doctor must have come, for they
are bringing Max In," Lady Bysshe
•uggested.
"Or he may be dead," the count said
tearfully, and without waiting for
further guidance he tremblingly groped
tls way along the wall and down the
Italrs, at the foot of which a friendly
Sand was laid on hls arm, while a
voice said, “Excuse me, count, but I
think you had better remain here Just
at present; for if my patient suddenly
regains consciousness It will only ex
llte him to see you, and your presence
Ann do no good.”
’’It’s you, doctor?"
“Yes, the groom met me on my early
■founds and I hurried here at once. I
•am having your son carried Into your
"I* there danger?" the count gasped.
“I must know."
"I cannot tell until I have examined
: the wound. Please stay here and I
-will send for you at once If I think
•jlhere Is any necessity."
"I will remain with him." Lady
Bysshe said, when with the helplessness
utd doclltly of a child tho count al
lowed himself to be led to the far end
>*f the great hall, where he sat perfectly
tiulet, his face blanched, his eyes full of
? terror. Once he muttered, "If I could
only see my boy.”
Whole days seemed to pass before ITr
>»ano came to announce that the ball had
seen extracted and that so far no dan
ger was apparent. "Your Excellency,"
laid the valet, using the form In which
se always addressed his mastsr, "may
tome Into the room, for the doctor says
ihs patient will not recover consclous
sess for some time," and he led the
xount toward the study.
No sooner had he gone than Lady
•ysshe hurried to her niece, who was
lying on a couch, her shoulders sup
Crted by pillows, her fact looking wan
d terrified.
“Is he still living?" she asked In a
frightened voice.
Urbano's words were repeated.
“I am grateful," Edith said fervent
ly.” “Oh, I am grateful.”
When presently Doctor Hopkins
lolned them, their first Inquiries were
{or his patient. The ball, he told them
iad been Imbedded In a fleshy part of
".he left breast and had been extracted
with little difficulty. Had It penetrated
* half an Inch farther It must have
* reused Instant death. At present he
lid not fear danger, but there was an
fenmense loss of blood and consequent
weakness; the wonder was that the
wounded man had not bled to death;
fee certainly would have done so had
not tho bandages been put on so soon.
Though Max was naturally strong, his
recovery would be slow.
When he came to feel Edith's pulse
fee notice a discoloration on her wrist.
Without pretending to see it or pausing,
fee stated that she had received a severe
shock to her nervous system, that her
strength must be kept up, and that he
would send her a tonic. He suggested
a drive In an open carriage, said that
he would see her again In the after
noon, and bowed himself out with
smiling affability.
"I am sure he is an extremely clever
man,” said Lady Bysshe.
“Yes,” Edith assented, as she smiled.
“It teems as If he understood the case.”
CHAPTER XIX.
EDITH'S DECISION.
All that day Max lay still and list
less In a semi-conscious condition, on
the couch they had hurriedly prepared
for him; his father seated beside him
in troubled silence, his ears strained to
catch the slightest sound Indicating
pain or uneasiness In the patient.
In the afternoon the doctor came
again and declared his patient was do
ing well as could be expected and that
so fear# for his safety need be enter
:talned.
With this assurance Lady Bysshe
took her niece for an airing during the
early afternoon In an open carriage.
There was no mistaking the fact that
Edith was Interested In GoefTrey Bys
she, though whether she was In love
with him or not her aunt could not say.
The sole objection that could be urged
against him was his age. which was
nearly double her own; otherwise he
was eligible, for he had already dis
tinguished himself at the bar and In
the house, and It was probable he would
one day alt on the bench. He had an
Income Independent of his profession.
She declared him to be high-minded
and she thought him a man of deep
! feeling who would make an excellent
: husband to the woman he loved; and
that he loved Edith, Lady Bysshe had
j little doubt.
"My dear,” she remarked as they
.drew near home, "1 think I will ask
! Goeffrey down from Saturday till Mon
I day, next week. What do you say,
! dear?"
"He may not be able to come; he
must have so many social engage
ments," Edith answered, striving to ap
pear unconcerned.
"But he always seems to enjoy him
self here, and he brightens us up. And
I am sure we want something to en
liven us after Max's effort to Introduce
another tragedy to the house."
At the end of her drive Edith ap
peared more tired and listless than when
she set out, and leaned heavily on her
aunt as she went up the broad granite
steps leading to the entrance. On
reaching the hall both paused while
lAdy Bysshe Inquired about Max of
Urbano, who was Just crossing to the
study. The valet answered with his
usual deferential manner; but his
scarred face, the brightness of his pen
etrating glance, his mlshapen and
dwarf-llke figure, expressed such hat
red and malignity to the girl whom he
believed had refused Max, and whom he
blamed for bringing him close to death,
that, suddenly she gave a little cry
and fainted In her aunt's arms.
The latter, who had not noticed the
man’s vindictive look, which had been
quick as lightning, called to hint for
help, when they carried her to a great
ottoman where they strove to revive
her. Their efforts were unsuccessful
for some time, during which Lady Bys
she became alarmed and sent for the
doctor. By the time he arrived Edith
had regained consciousness and was
laughing and crying hysterically.
"It was foolish of me to faint again,"
she said, "but I got a fright. I had no
Idea I was so weak-minded; but we
never know ourselves," she added
smilingly.
“What frightened you, dear child?"
her aunt asked.
“You will think It Is nonsense, and so
It Is: but Urbano’a face seemed to wear
a horrid mask, like one of those wicked
ly grotesque things Japanese actors
wear when they play tragedy. It was
only my Imagination, of course, but—"
"Your nerves are playing you sad
tricks,” her aunt told her.
“I am sure they are," Edith agreed,
"I must he weaker than I thought.”
Lady Bysshe was alarmed by her
niece’s condition, for Edith had up to
this been remarkable for her calmness
and self-control, and as far as her aunt
knew, had never fainted or been hys
terical before. The shock she had got
at the probability of her own death,
and at the sight of what she believed
was Max’s suicide, must have been
much greater than was first apparent.
Doctor Hopkins could only advise
perfect quiet, give tonics, and leave
nature to reassert her strength, a pro
ceeding which Lady Bysshe thought
the moBt sensible.
V. tl.At'M am AA.
GOEFFREY PROPOSES.
Three weeks later than the date of
hie sudden attempt upon his life, Max
was still an Invalid, confined to his own
rooms.
To account for his desperate act, he
had told his father of his visit to Monte
Carlo, his loss at the tables of the mon
ey he had borrowed of Lord Surrey
more, and the letter received from the
latter's solicitors; frankly stating that
he had proposed to Edith that, If ac
cepted by her, he might borrow from
the money lenders. He finally added
that, In his rage at being refused, he at
tempted his life that he might be re
venged on her and escape his creditors.
The count had heard the confession
In mute misery for he could not reproach
his son who had just escaped a suicide's
death; but that he was terribly dis
tressed It was plain to Max, who
heaped on himself the reproaches hla
father had spared; declared he only
brought misery on those around him,
and promised amendment.
"I know," he said with sulky regret
fulness,“I have shut myself out from
Edith’s good graces forever. I have
made her afraid of me and she will
hate me In the future. What a fool I
was, for I shall certainly never get
such a chance of marrying a fortune
again,” and hts small eyes fixed them
selves disconsolately on the wall.
"What’s to be done; oh. what's to be
done about those bills?” the count
moaned, for Max had given him the
list of his debts. "I am not rich, but
still I must find some way of paying
them. I will write to Lord Surreymore,
and he will give me time; and aB for
the others, I shall see what can be done.
If you had only heeded what I said
about gambling—”
"All this bother would be spared.
But look here, I swear I’ll never touch
a card again,” Max said repentantly.
"And I mean It this time.”
The count remained silent, glad to
hear these words, but fearing from his
son’s character that such resolutions
were not to be depended on In the
face of temptation.
Edith showed little sign of Improve
ment as time went by. Her nights
were sleepless, she started at every
noise, she dreaded being alone, and a
gloom seemed to settle on her who
formerly had been, even In her moods,
so calm and cheerful.
At these symptoms her aunt’s anxi
ety for the girl’s health Increased; and
Doctor Hopkins declared that the best
remedy for his patient was a thorough
change. Italy was decided on without
hesitation.
It was therefore, arranged that she
should be taken to Genoa, there to re
main for the winter months, providing
the place suited her. There were Eng
glish doctors there, whose advice might
be depended on If consultation became
necessary.
On hearing of this move, the count,
who usually agreed to his sister-in
law's decision, showed some dissatis
faction.
He could not go with them, he said,
his blindness would only make him a
burden on them, and he disliked the
Idea of women traveling alone; It
would make him anxious about them.
"But we shall not be alone,” Lady
Bysshe replied. " Though I will not
take a man. tor he would only bother
us, we shall have our maids with us.
There are no brigands In the country
now.
The count had no further objection to
offer; but said, in his usual gentle way,
It was selfishness that made him re
gret their going and that urged him
to keep them near him.
Preparations were at once began for
the Journey, and Geoffrey Bysshe was
Invited to spend the week at the hall
and say farewell to the Intended
voyagers. On the Saturday afternoon
of his arrival. Lady Bysshe, who had
been paying some calls In the neighbor
hood, found It convenient to meet him
at the station.
"My dear aunt, this is very kind of
you,” he said, when he had taken his
place beside her In the closed carriage.
"The fact Is Geoffrey,” she answered,
coming to the point at once, "I wished
to have a few words with you alone,
before we reached the hall. I didn’t
write to you that I have been very
much concerned about Edith’s health.”
"Is she 111?" he asked anxiously, his
grave face alert,
"She hasn’t recovered from her
shock.”
"How unfortunate that she saw the
accident."
"It wasn't an accident, though we
have been lucky enough to make people
believe It was. But you had better
know the truth. Max asked her to
marry him, and when she refused he
caught her wrist and showed her a re-'
volver, swearing there would be ayiother
tragedy In the house unless she accept
ed him there and then.”
"The scoundrel,” Goeffrey muttered
wrathfully. "The scoundrel.”
“She thought he meant to kill her,”
added Lady Bysshe.
"And yet she refused him,” he said,
his eyes sparkling with pleasure.
“She had too much spirit to be fright
ened into a consent, and too much hon
esty to give a promise not meant to be
kept.”
“The brute. I should like to give him
a sound thrashing."
“He has punished himself severely;
for he nearly put an end to his
promising career. But ever since Edith
has been in a terribly nervous state,
and the doctor thinks a thorough
change will be the best remedy. Poor
child, she will be glad to see you,” Lady
Bysshe added, stealing a glance at him.
The barrister felt grateful for that
last sentence that gave him hope and
courage. For, from the day Edith and
her aunt called at his chambers, the
sight of this girl suddenly set him
thinking that he had missed something
sweet and fair in'his life; something
he had heretofore ignored or over
looked in the hurry and strife of an
ambitious career; something that could
not be compensated for by honor or
gain, and beside which the world's
awards were as nothing.
These reflections once more im
pressed him during his drive to the
hall, but the cloudy mood they Induced
was suddenly brightened when pres
sently he saw her eyes flash with plea
sure as they met his own, and she let
her hand rest in his, as if she felt
strength, comfort and protection while
It lay there.
She grew cheerful when he sat beside
her, and declared herself by no meads
the invalid her aunt Imagined, but the
thinness and pallor of her face, and the
frightened look it expressed in repose,
belled her words.
I.ady Bysshe left them, saying she
would take off her bonnet and have tea
sent into Edith’s room, which was radi
ant with the soft light of candles and
warm in the glow of a ruddy fire.
The sudden barking of her Skye ter
rier at some noise outside made Edith
almost bound from her chair, though
next moment she was laughing at her
nervousness. But her startled look and
the flush sweeping over her face show
ed him how unstrung she was, and
brought him back to realities.
“I wish I had known before today
that you were ill.” he said.
"I am sure you would have come
to see me," replied Edith making no
effort to supress the pleasure his words
gave her, "but I feared you were too
busy to be disturbed, although Auntie
spoke of Inviting you down.”
"Do you think any business in the
world would keep me away, if I thought
you were ill?” he asked bending for
ward, the swelling veins in his forehead
showing how Intense were his feelings,
a glow coming into his dark face.
She made no answer, but the light in
her eyes deepened as she suddenly re
alized that he was about to speak the
words she had longed to hear.
“If so," he went on, "you have not
guessed how dear you are to me; how
happy it makes me to feel to be near
you, to hear your voice, to touch your
hand. I have longed and feared to tell
you this, almost from the time you and
your aunt came to see me. It may be
madness on my part, you may not care
for me, but I cannot help telling you
that you are more than everything else
in the world to me, and that I love you
with all my heart and soul.”
“You love me—you really love me?”
she said in a low voice, as if speaking
to herself, as if scarcely able to realize
that so great a happiness had fallen to
her share.
(Continued Next Week.)
H«rd on Pop.
Caller—Is the baby like his father?
Mrs. New pop—Yes; he keeps me up
every liifihk
Slavery’s Emblem.
Philadelphia Inquirer: It Is lawful
to go without a vest: it is permissable.
when off city pavements, to carry your
coat on your arm—just to show that
you have one; you may carry your hat
In your hand—same reason; but you
must wear your collar, no matter how
hot and uncomfortable It makes you.
No wonder the collar Is an emblem of
slavery.
Land Hunger.
Whatever may be the disposition of
(he farmers of the east, a serious land
lunger possesses the farmers of the
west. They have a feeling based on
ictual knowledge that there is not
pnuch really good land to be possessed,
lhat the really agricultural portion of
Ihe Mississippi valley capable of culti
vation without irrigation has been
Quite fully occupied, and that there
fore a piece of good land is the begin
ning of a fortune, if not in the days
Df the present owner then for his
posterity. The opportunity to home
stead or obtain land by purchase at
«. low rate afforded by the opening of
Ihe Indian reservations this summer
thows how Intense this land hunger
has become.
We have not cared to urge our read
ers to risk much on these reserva
tions. We have rather discouraged It,
because we realized that very few
would win prizes, that most of this
land Is of comparatively little value
nr otherwise undesirable, and that there
|s bound to be a good deal of vexation
ami disappointment and no little loss.
There was a time when homestead
ing land paid largely. It was, how
ever, when homestead lands in the
humid district were plenty and a man
could have pick and choice. Even
then, however, It Is an open question
whether the farmer who worked on
a farm by the month for five years
and saved his wages could not buy
the land outright for which the home
steader had given five of the best years
of his life, and he and his family sub
mitted to privations unknown in a more
pettled country. In other words, the
man who worked by the month and
paved his money would be quite as far
ahead as the homesteader, even if he
was successful in getting a good piece
of land, and in the meantime would
have had a great deal more enjoyment
out of life.
How, then, can this land hunger be
satisfied? It is in Itself a healthy sign.
(The man who gets hold of a good
piece of land, improves It wisely and
farms it well, has laid the foundation
of a fortune. He will not be a million
aire. He will not, possibly, be a very
flch man from an eastern standpoint,
but he will be in no danger of the
sheriff. He can educate his children
In habits of industry, thrift and
economy and sterling honesty. Can
give them a good education If they are
fit for It, and can have for himself and
Wife a maximum of the real comforts
of life and the minimum of its dis
comforts. Why, then, should not the
bwnershlp of a good piece of land be
highly desirable today?
' There Is, In the humid sections a
good deal of land that can be pur
chased at from ten to twenty dollars
per acre, land which If properly farmed
(and by this we mean If it is asked
to grow the crops which its Creator
Intended It to grow) wll make the
farmer comfortable and happy. And
we think the chances for achieving
success are a good deal better on this
kind of land than in any of the Indian
reservations that are now being
opened either for purchase or home
steading. We advise every man who
Is by nature fitted to be a farmer to
get hold of a piece of land, if he can
do so without burdening himself with
debt. Until he is able to pay from
one-third to one-half down he had bet
ter not buy it.
We must not expect a continuance
of the prosperity of the last four or
five years. We don't anticipate any
great disaster, but prices are always
proverbially unstable. In the very
nature of things adversity follows pros
perity and prosperity follows adver
sity, as the waves follow each other
to the shore. It has always been so,
will always be so, and therefore we
don’t advise any man to burden him
self with debt which he cannot carry
comfortably in case there should be
two or three years of dull times. Many
a man has been ruined by buying high
priced land and involving himself In
obligations that have compelled him to
let go or keep his nose to the grind
stone for years to come.
We would rather take our chances
now on a small portion of irrigated
land at a high price than on any land
|that Is now open to homesteading any
where In the United States. The
great agricultural development in the
pext ten or fifteen years will be in
the Irrigated sections of the plains and
mountain states, and there, we believe,
In the next generation will be found
the highest type of civilization on this
continent.—Wallaces’ Parmer.
To a Young Ass.
Poor little foal of an oppressed race!
I love the languid patience of thy face;
And oft with gentle hand I give thee
bread,
And clap thy ragged coat, end pat thy
head.
But what thy dulled spirits hath dis
mayed,
That never thou dost sport along the
glade?
And (most unlike the nature of things
young)
That earthward still thy moveless head
Is hung!
Do thy prophetlo fears anticipate.
Meek child of misery! thy future fate?
The starving meal, and all the thousand
"Which patient merit of the unworthy
takes ?**
Or Is thy sad heart thrilled with filial
pain
To see thy wretched mother's shortened
chain? •
And truly, very piteous is her lot—
Chained to a log within a narrow spot,
Where the close eaten grass Is scarcely
seen.
While sweet around her waves the tempt
ing green!
Poor Ass! thy master should have learnt
to show
Pity—best taught by fellowship of woe!
For much I fear me that he lives like thee,
Half famished in a land of luxury!
How asklngly Its footsteps hither bend!
It seems to say, "And have I then one
friend?"
Innocent foal, thou poor despised forlorn!
I hall thee, brother—spite of the fool’s
scorn!
And fain would take thee with me in the
dell
Of peace and mild equality to dwell.
Where toil sh^ll call the charmer health
his bride.
And laughter tickle plenty's ribless side!
How thou wouldst toss thy heels In game
some play,
And frisk about as lamb or kitten gay!
Yea, and more musically sweet to me
Thy dissonant harsh bray of joy would be.
Than warbled melodies that soothe to rest
The aching of pale fashion’s vacant
breast.
—Coleridge.
Emperor William as a Smoker.
Leslie’s Weekly: The German emperor
has now taken to the smoking of a most
elaborate pipe, with specially prepared
Havana. This marks a groat advance on
the mild clgaret with which he com
menced his sovereign career. After that
he crept to equally mild straw-colored
cigars, of Dutch make, costing a penny,
though these he Indulged In only at the
close of the day. His present habit he
has Inherited from his father, who was a
great smoker of the well known student
pipes, such as Bismarck substituted for
cigars toward the end of his life, and no
popular portrait of “Unser Fritz” was
thought to be perfect without his long,
big bowled pipe. The old emperor neither
smoked nor snuffed, although the latter
habit was adopted by Frederick the Oreat,
and continued by three of his successors,
But the greatest smoker of all the Hohen
zolloms was Frederick’s father, Frederick
William L, the kidnaper of giants, whose
only parliament w&s the famous "Tahak
sooUegium.”
BISMARCK AGAIN
WORRIES KAISER
A Book by Count Mittnacht
Causes the Royal Ire to
Rise Violently.
DOES JAPAN NEED MONEY?
Germans Think Maybe So, Because the
Mikado Conferred the Bank of
Marquis on a dew Who Pre
sumably Had It to Loan.
(Copyright, 1904, by W. R. Hearst.)
Berlin special: Germans are won
lering what will happen to the Wut
tembergian minister of state, Count
Herman von Mlttnacht, who in his
t>ook on the life of Prince Bismarck has
touched the kaiser’s tenderest spot.
The book, which has Just appeared,
md the first edition of which Is al
ready exhausted, not only glorified the
[ate Iron Chancellor, but it severely
triticises the kaiser for his treatment
if Germany’s greatest statesman and
Ilplomat, whom he rudely told to re
sign in 1890, when he was still a hot
leaded young man, evidently jealous
Decause Prince Bismarck put him com
pletely in the shadow.
In biting sarcasms the count attacks
;he snobs at court who tried to win
:he favor of the young kaiser by hu
miliating the fallen statesman In every
iossible manner as soon as they saw
hat his power was gone.
There is no doubt thh.t several couri
ers now very close to the kaiser are
•marring under Count Mittnacht’s
merciless lashes and some of them are
•aid to even think of challenging him
to a duel.
But this is not all. The count, who,
probably more than any other Ger
man living is familiar with the per
rons who played the chief parts In the
treatlon of the German empire, takes
iway with halo with which the present
raiser laboriously has surrounded the
lead of his grandfather, the first Ger
man emperor, Wilhelm der Grosse.
Without directly saying anything about
:he first Hohenzollern bearer of the
.imperial crown, he proves that Kaiser
Wilhelm der Grosse was a most medi
jere person, without any special gift
ir talent, who was carried to a power
m the shoulders of Prince Bismarck
»nd Field Marshal Von Moltke, to
whom all honor for the creation of the
•mplre'Justly belongs.
When one knows how much work It
las cost the present kaiser to instil
t Into the minds of his subjects that
ils grandfather had every claim on the
title of “the great,” and that Bismarck
ind Moltke were only his tools, who
tarried out his plans, it is easily under
itood how furious this book has made
lim, written by a man who stood in
:he very midst of the events when
le himself was hardly out of his swad
Jling clothes.
That he will take revenge on Count
Vlittnacht in some way no one doubts,
^—I—
but how he will do it iff the question
which now occupies the German mind.
Secret Service Activity.
The murder of the Russian Minister Von
Plehwe seems tc have inspired both the
Russian secret service men in Gorman)
and the German police to new activity.
Immediately after the assassination or
ders were received from the kaiser, who
fears for the life of his friend, Czar Nich
olas, that every political suspect in Ger
many. as well as every person of no com
mercial standing, who receives or sends
mail to Russia, must be closely wratched,
and that there must be no slips.
As a result of this hundreds of people^
are now under close surveillance and
many houses have been searched, where
by thousands of pamphlets threatening
the lives of both the czar and the kaiser
have been discovered.
At Bromberg, In eastern Prussia, a large
anarchistic printing establishment was
found in a cellar, but the men themselves
succeeded in making their escape.
It Is thought that this establishment
was connected with the gang of anarch
ists who were recently tried at Konigs
berg on a charge made by the Russian
consul general of having conspired against
the life of the czar.
The lawyers defending these pleaded
that his clients ought to be acquitted on
the rather novel grounds that Russia is *
not a civilized country and that there was ¥
no German law to forbid plotting against
the lives of any rulers but those of civil
ized nations.
To prove his claim he stated that the
czar’s government maintained agents in
the Balkan states to create disturbances,
and also that Russia was responsible for
the' assassination of King Alexander of
Servla and Prime Minister Stambuloff of
Bulgaria.
Labor Issue in America.
*». most interesting book, written by
Councillor of State Alfred Kolb of Weis
baden, deals with the labor question in
the United states.
The author, who is a most conservative
man, some time ago went to America,
where he worked as common laborer in a
brewery and a bicycle factory In Illinois
without any one having any idea of his
true position.
“I went to America,” Councillor Kolb
writes in his book, “with the intention of
gathering material for a book in which I
had hoped to prove the injustice of the
demands of the working clashes, but my
practical experience entirely changed my
view of the labor question.
“I found problems of whose existence I
had no idea and I cannot deny that my
sympathies are no longer with the em
ployers, and must admit that most of the
demands made by the unions are just and
fair.”
These and other similar expressions with
which the book abounds, written by a
man who was formerly ultra-conservative,
have, of course, been greeted with great
satisfaction by the socialists, who claim
that every fair minded person under simi
lar circumstances would come to the same
conclusion.
A Court Scandal.
All Potsdam is discussing an Incident
which happened the other day and which
has caused an enormous sensation at
court.
At the moment when Prince William,
the oldest son of the kaiser, left the im
perial palace on horseback to take part in
a military maneuver, an elegantly dress
ed young lady, holding a small baby in
her arms, descended from her carriage
and knelt down in front of the crowq
prince’s horse.
The young prince stopped his horse and J
the young lady handed him a petition in ^
which she asked him to compel a court
official who had seduced her and who was
the father of her baby, to marry her.
The names of both the young lady, who
Is said to be of an excellent family, and
cf her faithless lover have so far been
kept secret, but since his return from
Norway the kaiser has ordered an in
vestigation and has promised the girl to
see justice done.
Famous Castle for Sale.
The famous old Hohenzollern castle,
Abenberg, In the village of the same
name, near Nuernberg, Is advertised for
sale, and it is feared that unless the reich
stag makes an appropriation to buy up
the castle it may be snatched up by some ji
American multi-millionaire, who would
probably be delighted to acquire the cas- *
tie where the founders of the noble fam
ily of Hohenzollern were born.
The castle, which in its present form
tv as built in the eleventh century, wras the
‘Stammschloss” of the Burggrafs, of Nu
ernberg, from whom the Hohenzollerns
lescend.
It Is more than improbable that the
"eichstag will see any reason to appropri
ate money to buy the castle, and the
kaiser is said not to be in a position to
pay for the large and costly estate out of
tils own pocket.
Rome Will Retaliate.
The city of Rome, which recently, very
much against the will of the majority of
ts citizens, was embellished with a great
Groethe monument, has decided to take re
venge on the kaiser and present him with
\ similar gift.
Money is now being collected for an im
posing statue of the famous Italian poet
Dante, which, It is hoped, will give the
people of Berlin as many unpleasant hours
is did the kaiser's present to the Romans.
Titles for the Jews.
Japan must be in need of money, is the
conclusion at which Germans have arrived
ifter the receipt of the news that a Jew
las been made a real marquis by the
nikado.
The first Jewish marquis is Dr. Emil
itothmann, for years physician to the im
>erial family at Tokio.
Should the mikado make up his mind to
>e liberal with his marquis titles there are
iny number of German Jews who would
•eadily supply Japan with money enough
o carry on the war indefinitely.
Grit for Fowls.
There is nothing so essential to the
lealth of a fowl of any kind as grit of
lome kind. Fowls on a range are sup
rased to get all the grit that Is neces
lary for them, and they can subsist.
>ut It will be found economical to give
hem some better grit than they can
lick up on the range. Most of the
rabstance on range is of a smooth na
me to begin with and consequently
loes -not have the grinding power. Any
hing that has sharp edges will do even
:o glass, but there are grits like tha
nica and others that are cheap and
elfable and to our mind much the best
o use. Crushed oyster and clam shells
five good results, but the greatest fault
o find with them is the shortness of
ime in use. The juice of the gizzard
loftens them too quickly and their
vork is done. Old crockery or queens
vare pounded up is good. For fowls in
■onfmement some kind of grit is es
sential and the probabilities are that
his kind of stock are better prepared
vith grit than almost ay other. As thed
frit is the teeth of the chick, it wilMv
ra seen how necessary it is for their
ramfort and health. Get a hunderd
jound sack for the hens and see the
mprovement in their health as well
is increased egg supply. More espec
ally will this be true in the winter
ime for then the snow covers much of
he ground and the finding of suitable
frit is an impossibility. Treat the birds
ight and they will repay you double
ior their care.
He Know.
She—What is the most fruitless task
you ever knew undertaken?
He—A drunken man hunting for his
wife's pocket in the dark.
Mickey—I shined the president’s shoes
met.
Old Gent—What. Roosevelt's?
Mickey—Naw; de president of de
Eight Ward Moonlight Socials.
Her Idea.
Mr. Fresh—Minerva was a spinster.
Miss Cutting Hintz—Yes; and she was
llso the goddess of wisdom.
Sure.
Mr. Benton Holme—Here’s a button
>ff my coat.
Mra. Benton Holme—Why, so It Is.
Mr. Benton Holme—Well, sew It on.
»