LAZY BRITONS TAKE EASY ADVANTAGE OF NEW INSURANCE ACT Amount of Feigned Illness Rap idly Developing Into Big Scandal. % INCREASE IN “SICKNESS” Many Find It More Profitable to Work Government Than to Hold Reg ular Jobs at Pitifully Low Wages. > London, Special —If all men were perfectly honest schemes like the lib eral government Insurance act might be ideal schemes. But the few months In which the act has b^en in operation have shown that many Englishmen cannot reslstj temptation. The amount of feigned Hines among the insured is becoming a great scandal. In this re spect Great Britain is repeating the experience of Germany, which fur nished the model for the Lloyd George bill. The Germans have invented a new word for the illness of the gov ernment insured, and some similar word will be needed in England soon. Some employers who pay small w'ages find that the number of employes ab sent from work on account of alleged illness is from twice to 10 times the number under former conditions, be fore workmen and women were assured of 10 shillings a week whenever they laid off. The doctors agree that there Is an enormous amount of malingering, but have not yet discovered any cure. Many people consider that a week of leisure, with an income of 10 shillings, is a justifiable holiday. When the of ficial doctor asserts that they are not ill they begin to denounce the act as a fraud, and make political capital of it. Conservative newspapers afie only too willing to print complaints from the insured that the insurance act is a failure. Fourteen million people are now pay ing their weekly contributions, "lick ing stamps.” the government’s oppo nents say derisively. Undoubtedly many of them find fault with the ad ministration of the act, and probably some amendments will be found nec essary. New' problems develop every day. An employer has written to the papers explaining that an employe had been four or five months in Jail charged with murder. The trial resulted in ac quittal. The employer W'ants to take back the man. but wants to know who is to pay the insurance contributions for the time of detention In Jail. The act says nothing on that point. For the time opposition to the in surance scheme, or rather criticism of it. is the principal political capital of the conservative party. Home rule and Welsh disestablishment have taken back seats as targets for attack. But while conservatives declare that com pulsory insurance is a failure their leaders do not go so far as to urge repeal. It is unpopular with many people, but whether it Is not popular with the great majority of th insured is still an open question. COW PRODUCTS STRUNG AS SUMMER BEVERAGES Milk and Buttermilk Fast Be coming Popular and Demand 1 Increases Rapidly. Again the cow is coming Into her own and milk or buttermilk is In cLe cided favor as a summer drink. Men and women with strong stomachs give them a rest and change by going on a milk or buttermilk, diet, while many a person with weak or w'orn out stom achs have found peace and quiet by sticking to the milky way. Buttermilk particularly has come to be a popular and much sought for beverage. Many people who did not care for churn or creamery buttermilk have cultivated a regular taste for the manufactured product. One druggist in the city who has been successful in the making of it, has a big demand, selling close to 35 gallons a day. Most of this is sold to regular customers, who will take no substitute and who bring their friends from all over town to try it. However, several druggists in various parts of town have devel oped quite a trade in buttermilk. This manufactured buttermilk has marked food value, as it is made from the sweet, whole milk, which retains its butter fat and casein, in contrast to its own first cousin, which comes from th,e churns, where practically all the fat is extracted. Taking the whole milk, the mixer dilutes with a little water and then places the lactic acid baccilli in it. This converts the sweet milk into sour. After certain length of time expires, a wholesome buttermilk is ready for the patrons. Buttermilk drinkers are not faddists, but drink it for its health giving properties and because they like it. There is a well defined theory about its use prolonging life and thorough trials have demonstrated that it has some real value. It builds up rich, red blood, which has strength to throw off disease and as a kidney stimulant its use helps the process of elimination of waste matter. X THE PLEASURE OF X ♦ RAISING WHISKERS ♦ X » Thu Cynic, writing in the American Magazine, says: “The enthusiasm of those engaged in the cultivation of whiskers is Inspir ing. A man with a full beard may, in a lucid moment, shave it off. But watch him closely. Within 10 days he will show signs of returning to his old life almost as certainly as a mur derer wlli return to the scene of his crime.” POODLE FOP WEARS DIAMOND EARRINGS Paris—A very fop of a dog, wearing the latest and extremest doggy mpdes, ap peared on the boulevards recently. It led an elegantly dressed wo in by a silver chain, or vice versa. The dog. a small Frer poodle, wore a sable coat with a pocket from which peeped a delicate lace handkerchief. Rub ber Bhoes further protected it from catch ing cold. Gold coins jingled on the poodle’s pig skin collar, but Its other ornaments were much more costly. For two diamond ear rings glistened In each ear, which was pierced at the tip and ba^e. •MaaaBBMHMMMMnMMManwiMaaaBBBaBMnaMiMWMai m minister] POLICE By henry montjoy Copyright. 1912. The Bnbh. Menfll Cmpan* Synopsis. “THE MINISTER OF POLICE,” by Henry Mountjoy, is a romance of Paris during the Louis XV reign, a period when Europe was in a condition of foment and unrest; when Voltaire was breaking to pieces the shackles of religion; when Rousseau at the Cafe de Regenance was preaching the right to think; and when a thousand men, some in the gutter, some near the throne, were preparing the great explosion of the revolution. Madame Linden, an Austrian lady, after completing a simple mission to the French country, lingers on In Paris, en joying the gay life there. De Sartines, the minister of police, thinks she has some other motive than pleasure in delaying her departure and surrounds her with ■pies to discover, If possible, whether she la dabbling in state plots. , De Lussac is a noble of exceptional character of that period. Handsome, yrttn all the elegance of a man of the court, there is still about him something that stamps him as a man apart, something of the visionary, the enthusiast and the poet, rare In that age of animal lust, chilling wit and embroidered brutality. He is, in fact, steeped in the philosophy of Rous seau and is trying to put this philosophy Into practice through his connection with a secret society that is plotting the down fall of the state. Before he has gone far enough to incriminate himself he falls in love with the beautiful Austrian, who per suades him his method of righting the wrongs of humanity is impracticable, and ends by promising to go to Vienna with her to live. As he leaves her house a fellow con spirator, his chief, Joins him, says several of their members are arrested, and en trusts the secret articles of the association to him. He then explains to De Lussao that their only hope is to intimidate the minister of police. This can be accom plished only by obtaining an Incriminat ing contract signed by the minister of po lice and in the possession and safe keep ing of De Richelieu, De Lussac’s cousin. With this contract in their possession they can dictate terms to the minister of po lice, obtain the release of the members already imprisoned and be safe them selves. De Lussac goes home, buries the papers he has just received, writes Madame Lin den that he is attempting one last mission for the society, and also writes an asso ciate telling him where the papers may be found in case of his death. Then he en ters Richelieu’s home and almost succeeds In getting the document, but is surprised and leaves it in a drawer which he has unlocked. Before ho can make another attempt he is arrested and taken to the Bastile but not before he has told Madame Linden how nearly he succeeded in get ting the document. She, realizing how desperate her lover’s position is, visits Richelieu’s home and succeeds where her lover has failed. CHAPTER TV (Continued). 3 "And the king will say: 'Certainly, Monsieur Rousseau; we will see, we will see.’ And he will refer you to Monsieur de la Vrilllere, who will say, •Certainly, Monsieur Rousseau, every thing shall be done to clear this un fortunate gentleman.' And Monsieur de la Vrilllere will refer you to Mon sieur de Sartines, who will talk about Justice, whom, by the by, he does not know in the least. Oh, Monsieur Rousseau, you are the greatest philosopher of your age, but among these, men of the world your philosophy would lead you no where; the production of immortal books is your metier in life, not the conduct of quarrels with policemen. Leave all that to me. I shall free Moneieur de Lu^jsac if you will only do one thing for me.” . .“And that?” She took a packet from her pocket. “Take this, and treasure it as you would your life. I shall probably send a servant for it this evening. He will show you this ring—” she exposed a cameo ring on her hand. “Give it to him. If you do not hear from mre by noon tomorrow, you will know that I am either dead or in prison, for the people I am attacking are merciless people and do not care what weapons they use. In that event, take the pack et yourself to Monsieur de Maupeou, the vice chancellor. In that case I shall be well avenged.” “But madame, what is this parcel?” asked the philosopher, not in the least delighted at the prospect of being mado the minister of her vengeance. “Monsieur, it contain the social death warrant of an unjust man, a man whp is preying upon (the people; It is also at the same time the order of release for Monsieur de Lusaac. With that parcel in your hand, mon sieur, you can command events; you can, at least, release De Lussac, the man whom your philosophy has sent to prison.” “And the name of the unjust man?” asked Rousseau. “Monsieur de Sartines.” “The lieutenant gerifcral of police?” “Precisely.” Rousseau nearly let the parcel drop. Here was a nice imbroglio. Ten min utes ago he had put on his hat to leave his house, content with himself and at peace with all the world, except Therese; he had opened the door, hum ming a tune from one of his operas, and in a trice fate had seized him in the form of this veiled woman, thrust a weapon in his hand, and ordered him to attack De Sartines, that tiger De Bartines, of whom, despite all his phil osophy, he was very much afrald Unfortunately Rousseau! He was al ways a martyr to women; even that morning, before starting he had suf fered from a bad attack of Therese, escaping from her only to fall into the hands of Madame Linden. “But, madame, it is aglnst my prin ciples to use force In this fashion. I am but a student; my part in the world is entirely passive; the hand which is powerful, armed with the pen, is always at a loss armed with the ■word—” Again he would have dived Into the vague warers of verbiage, and hidden himself, had she not caught him, so to speak, by the coat tails. “Monsieur, you may be a student but you are a man; and a man who loves and honors you has been impris oned for no fault but that he followed your teaching, though wrong-headedly enough, perhaps. You have nothing to fear. It is 1 who will bear the brunt of the battle. I ask you only to hold the document in your house and in the event of my not communicating with you by noon tomorrow to hand it to Monsieur de Maupeou. He is a bitter enemy of this vlllaisi, De Sartlnes. Monsieur, believe me when I say there is no danger to you in the transaction. I am moving in it for no object but love. Monsieur de Lussac is my lover.” She lifted her veil. Rousseau, before that loveliness, suc cumbed. He took off his hat and bowed to her, at the same time thrusting his book and the parcel into the capacious pocket of his coat. He was always a sentimentalist. Though, at times a philosopher, a mu sician, a botunist, a writer, the sentl • mentalist was always there, and the sentimentalist told him that the wo man was speaking the truth and was entirely to be trusted. He hated med dling at all in the matter, but it seemed to him his path of duty was clear. He must- do everything in his power to assist in the enlargement of De Lussac. “Madame,” sakl he, “I will act as you desire. Personal considerations do not weigh with me in a matter where the right is concerned.” Then having discharged this fine jentiment, he turned crusty. “Though I have noth ing but your word ■’jn the matter, still I am constrained V> believe it. I must now return and place this packet, in safe keeping. Good day, madame.” He turned and began to walk back toward the house. She watched him for a moment, then with a little laugh she ran after him. This dreamer had nev er even asked her name; suspicious as he was, always fearing spies and im aginary enemies, he had neglected this, the first question that a business man would havp put to her. “Well, madame?” “My name is—pardon me for giving it in full—the Baroness Sophie Anas tase Therese Linden, and my address is number 12, Rue Coq Heron.” “Madame,” replied he grimly, whether a baroness or a woman of the people matters not to me at all.” He put his fingers to the brim of his old hat and shuffled on. The baroness looked after him as he went, a shabby old man in a snuff colored coat; testy, suspicious, casting his eyes about him, clasping his coat lapel with a veined and nervous hand, the strangest figure of an Immortal. Then, satisfied that she had placed her weapon of destruction in very safe keeping, she returned to the Rue Coq Heron. CHAPTER V. DE SARTINES BECOMES HOST. The Paris residence of Monsieur le Mareehal Duo de Richelieu was situ ated In the Due du Faubourg St. Honore, on the right as you went to ward the royal palace and almost op posite to the Due lYAguesseau. I Along this side of the way one found the frontages of a number of palatial mansions stretching from the Hotel de Montbazon to the Hotel d’Evreux. The broad gardens of these houses, bird haunted, sparkling with the waters of fountains and glorious with flowers, reached right down to the tree-planted spaces bordering the Avenue des Tulle rles. The Hotel de Richelieu, .which shortly after the date of this story the mareehal exchanged for another resi dence In Paris, was not the least sump tuous of these houses, and this morning at half past 11, as its owner stood for a moment on the terrace overlooking the gardens, flowers never appeared more beautiful, fountains brighter, or trees more green than those fountains, flowers and trees stretching before him to the foliage of the Avenue des Tuil eries. He had Just arrived from Ver sailles, and he was thinking nothing of the beauty before him; the Impend ing dejeuner occupied his thoughts. It amused him to think of Madame Lin den lil the arena with four virulent en emies attacking her, Bharp-toothed as rats and poisonous as serpents; he ex pected to see them horribly mangled, and he expected to see her horribly bitten. It would be a duel of wit con ducted with smlies, to the tune of the clinking of champagne glasses and the sound of violins. He had sent the In vitations by special messenger on that morning and so urgently worded that he was pure of all the belligerents re sponding. As he was thinking of this, a ser vant came to the terrace from the house, with the announcement that Monsieur de Sartlnes had arrived. De Richelieu entered the house and passing down a corridor, found the re ception room which opened on the room where dejeuner would be served. Here, superb in the costume of the day, sword at side, in a brocade^ coat and with ruffles o? Mechlin lace, Btood the lieutenant general of police. The two- noblemen bowed one to the other with great formality, then drop ping formality like a cloak, De Sartlnes cast himself Into a chair and crossed his legs. “Well, my dear due, you see I have come. I guessed the motive of your urgency—that unfortunate De Lus sac.— “Yes!” cried De Richelieu, who had almost forgotten his kinsman's pre dicament “What of him? I heard you had placed him In retirement What has he been doing?" De Sartlnes pulled a long face. “Oh, ma foi! what has he not? It is the most serious case I have yet had to deal with.” Then, leaning for ward In his chair, he told the story of De Lussac as we know it, with this addition, that on searching In the orange tree tub In the courtyard of De Lussac's house, a packet of papers be longing to the Society of the Midi had been unearthed. Incriminating many people, and especially De Lussac. “Ma foi!” cried De Richelieu, “this is serious! Fool! This will mean ban ishment." “Oh, no monsieur,” replied De Sar tlnes; “this will mean the Isle St. Marguerite. We can not let this fire brand free across the frontier to work his sedition perhaps at Geneva or In Holland. But you need not fear; there will be no family disgrace, Just removal, extinction.” Scarcely had De Sartlnes finished than a servant entered and approached De Richelieu. “Mqnsieur Raffe to see you, mon slebr.” “Raffe to see me! Why, he must have come all the way from Versailles. One monvent, my dear De Sartlnes.” He left the room and In the library found Raffe. Raffe was white as death. “Monsieur,” cried he, when his mas ter had closed the door, "a terrible thing has happened.” “Yes! Speak! What is It?" “Your bureau has been tampered with." "My bureau!" “Monsieur, when you left me your keys this morning, with instructions to go over the Tarnler affair, I went#to your bureau. The top right hand draw er, when I tried to unlock it, proved to be unlocked. The papers seemed to be in order, but 1 femembered the se cret panel Inclosing the document you know of concerning Monsieur de Sar tlnes. My God! Monsieur,” cried Raffe, suddenly collapsing into a chair, “the document Is gone.” "Gone!” cried De Richelieu. “Gone; aye, gone; and I know who has taken it.” De Richelieu, greatly shaken by this news, said nothing for a moment. He remembered last night, and the bar oness, and how she had locked him out of the room. “Well,” he said at last "Speak. Who has taken It?” “Monsieur de Lussac.” "De Lussac I” “Yes, monsieur; he came on that vis it for no reason. He was alone In the library. Oh, It was he, beyond any manner of doubt. No one else had ac cess to the place.” De Richelieu, calmer now, reflected on this. He felt sure In his heart that the womafi of the night before was the culprit, but his amour propre re volted at the thought. He preferred to think that ho had been betrayed by his kinsman rather than that he had been fooled by a woman. Then he remem bered their connection, and the truth, that perhaps the pair of them had uni ted to outwit him, began to dawn on his mind. An Intense anger, amount ing to hatred of this pair of lovers, arose In his heart. But the conqueror of Mahon was not a man to be con .quered by his temper. “Return to Versailles,” said he to Raffe, “and await my Instructions. Place the whole household under sur velllanse. You are absolutely certain that you have made no mistake.” “Absolutely, monsieur.” “Then go.” The due returned to the reception room where he had left De Sartlnes. He was undecided yet as to what course he should take; he knew that the situation as regardod De Sartlnes was serious, but when the document began to speak In strange hands It would be time enough for De Richelieu to discover that he had been robbed of It. He was not a man to make con fessions and explanations. “Well,” said De Sartlnes, “and what had Monsieur Raffe to say?” “Oh, nothing—household matters— and that reminds me, the urgency of ray Invitation to dejeuner had nothing to do with De Lussac.” “With what, then?” “Why, with a most charming woman who Insists upon meeting you.” “Aha! And who Is she, this charm ing woman?” ‘I will give you 100 guesses and you will be wrong every time.” “Then put yie out of my suspense.” “Madame la Baronne Sophie Linden.” De Sartlnes stared for a moment; then he broke Into a fit of laughter. “Oh, mon Dieni! you have Invited me to meet her! This will kill me!” “In what way?” “Why, my degr due, I have decided to arrest her. I would have arrested her yesterday, only I had not a power ful enough case against her. This find ing of the papers of the Society of Midi has changed all that. True, her name is not mentioned In them, but she Is a friend and the mistress of De Lus sac, and he wrote to her concerning them. I shall hold her In prison for a week, and then bundle her back to Vienna vvlth a note to Monsieur Tal liene of the Vienna police.” “Cordieu!” said the due, “and I In vited her to dejeuner!” “Well, my dear De Richelieu, you are well out of the results of that Invi tation. She is a most dangerous wo man. Yesterday she tried to extract 100,000 francs from itte. She threatened me, yes.” The Due de Richelieu was silent for a moment. Then he turned to De Sar tines. “She must come here all the same.” “What!” “I wish her Impertinence punished. She Imposed herself on me; she pro posed the dejeuner, as a means of meet ing'you and some other people who are coming and whom she hates; she hoped to get you all under her tongue, and she used me as her Instrument. Grand Idea! You have not Issued the order of arrest yet?" “No.” “Well, then, I present you with this hotel for the day. You are the host, and when Madame Linden arrives, deal with her as you please." “Ma fol!" said De Sartlnes grimly, “that is not so bad.” He pondered the Idea for a moment "You are In earn est?” i “Absolutely,” replied the due, who, debarred from offering Insult to the woman whom he now hated In hls own house, left perfectly certain that De Sartines would not hesitate to do so In a borrowed one. “Very well, then,” replied De Sar tlnes. “I shall deal with this lady. Call me a servant.” De Rlcelleu dIH so, and De Sartlnes gave hls orders. "Go at once,” said he, “to the Hotel de Sartines, and ask Monsieur Beaure gard to come here.” “You will arrest her here?” asked the due. “Ma fol, why not?” The sound of a carriage entering the courtyard came faintly from outside. Next moment a knock came to the door, and Monsieur de Joyeuse was an nounced. He had been surprised at the invitation, for he was not on very friendly terms with the marechal. Hls surprise had brought him. He bowed' to the due. “Pay your compliments to Monsieur de Sartines first,” said De Richelieu, “for he is your host, though the In vitation came in my name.” De Joyfeuse, with an Impertinence that was absolutely hls own, turned hls back on the marechal and bowed to De Sartines. (Continued next week.) In an amusing piece entitled, “The Relation of June to Wedlock,” In the American Magazine, Kin Hubbard writes: “June’s th’ month which th’ Romans regarded as bein’ th’ most propitious season o’ th’ year at Hi’ altar, an’ Miss Fawn Llpplncutt adds that 'th’ augury fer happiness Is ’specially favorable If th’ day chosen be o’ th’ full moon, er th’ conjunction o’ th’ sun an’ th’ moon.’ “But o’ course those o’ us who have tried all sorts o’ months know that no particular month has anything on any o’ th’ other months when It comes t’ a happy marriage. A couple kin get mar ried on a dark dreary February after noon an’ wait clean till July fer a f7 excursion t’ Mammoth cave, an’ be perfectly happy—unless, o’ course, th' husband has misrepresented his sajary, er his wife refuses t' dress up except on Sunday. “A dressin’-Jacket wife an’ a substan tial, self-respectin’ husband are soon parted. Nor kin thor' ever be much In common between a husband that ought t’ eat out o’ a nose bag an’ a wife o’ exquisite taste. They may not part, but that atmosphere o’ love an’ companion ship which should permeate th' Ideal home’ll be ever mlssln’.” The Real Factor. From the Boston Herald. Sound rails and steel cars will not avail much until the over-optlmlstlo employe Is weeded out. Disconsolate Days. “How’s the colonel getting along sines his town went dry?” "Says he'll never get t