I The
DESTROYER
By BURTON E. STEVENSON
I-..
gCHAPTER NINE—Continued.)
“Do yon remember the number
of the stateroom?”
The clerk spread out before Le
pine a cabin plan of the ship.
“It was this one, sir,” he said,
and placed his finger on 514; “an
inner room, you see, on the upper
deck.”
“You asked the man’s name, I
suppose?”
“Oh, yes, sir. I caused him to
fill out the usual blank. Here it
is.”
Lepine took the blank and
looked it over. It stated that
stateroom No. 514, on the Prinz
sessin Ottilie, for the sailing of
September 27, two berths, second
class, had been purchased of
Thomas Cook & Son by Ignace
Vard, of New York city, the berths
to be used by himself and his
daughter; and that he had paid
for these berths the sum of 640
francs, being payment in full, and
receipt of which was acknowl
edged. The blank also stated that
Mr. Vard was a naturalized citizen
of the United States, and had lived
in that country for 10 years.
“The sailing was from Cher
bourg?” Lepine inquired, when he
bad assimilated all this.
“Yes, sir.”
“At what hour?”
“About 4 o’clock, sir—4 o’clock
yesterday afternoon.”
“How did it happen, sir,” Le
pine asked, turning to the mana
ger, “that the notes were not de
posited until yesterday?”
“Our deposit is made up at 3
o’clock each afternoon,” the man
ager explained. “The notes came
in too late for Tuesday's deposit,
and were placed in our safe until
the next day,”
Lepine made a brief entry in his
notebook, handed back the blank
and rose.
“I thank you very much, gentle
men,” he said. ‘‘You have been
most obliging. The information
you have given me will be of the
very greatest service.' ’
And with that he took his leave,
returned light hoartedly to hie of
fice and sent a wireless to the cap
tain of the Ottilie. The fugitive
could not escape him now; it was
merely a question of arresting him
•a he left the boat at New York;
soon, soon, Lepine would have the
pleasure of putting him on the
grill, and, once there, the detective
felt sure that there would be some
important revelations before he
got off again. One fact surprised
him—-that Vard should be au
American citizen; but perhaps that
was not the truth. If it was the
truth, it would make the arrest at
New York a little awkward; a for
mal compliant would have to be
made, a charge of some kind
trumped up. But there was no
hurry — a week remained in
which to mature the plans.
So Lepine, after sending a brief
report in eipher to M. Deleasse,
turned to the work which had ac
cumulated during his absence in a
happier and more contented
frame of mind than he had en
joyed for some days.
‘‘I shall relish my lunch today !”
he reflected; but, alas! it was just
as he was preparing to sally forth
for it that the blow fell.
“A message for you, sir,” his
secretary said, and.handed him a
tightdilm* envelope.
“Ah!” said Lepine, “a wire
less!” and he ripped it open eager
ly. Then he remained staring at it
with astounded eyes. Here is the
message:
September SS, 11:10 A. M.
Frinzsetwln OUilllc. Radio via cher
wour*.—Lepine, Paris: No record of
Stance Vard and daughter on Ottilie.
Wtzteevooni 114 unoeoupied.
—— ^Haoserr.nnn, Captain
THE LANi‘> OK FREEDOM.
Tlte old town of Cherbourg wh^
experiencing its send weekly
apotheosis. For five days of the
•sewn a duller place won hi be dif
% **1®**^ to find, but 011 WfcdnesdtiY.M
;and Saturdays, when the <r,-'r.t
'trans-Atlantic liners were due to
ipauseim the outer harbor ««£ take
aboard the multitudes hora&Fard i
!bound to America, the towm twja ;
*£0**}**™}- m The transfigiua- {
- - -I
u
ute, and stepped from the boat
train to the waiting tender. But
the less well informed came on the
day before—and never, for the re
mainder of their lives, forgot the
dullness of their last day in Eu
rope. Then there were the nervous
ly anxious, their peace of mind al
ready wrecked by the vagaries of
the European baggage system,
who dared not run the risk of ar
riving. at the last moment. So
they, too, journeyed to Cherbourg
the day before the sailing date, in
order to have a clear 24 hours in
which to search for the pieces
which were certain to be missing.
That day at Cherbourg was al
ways an expensive one, for the ho
tel keepers of the place, having to
live for seven days on the proceeds
of two, arranged their rates ac
cordingly.
At the edge of the narrow strip
of rock strewn sand which consti
tutes the beach at Cherbourg,
stands the Grand hotel—familiar
name to ever^ traveler in Europe,
where even the smallest hamlet
has its “Grand.” The one at
Cherbourg is a rambling, three
storied frame structure, with a
glass enclosed dining room over
looking the harbor, anti here, at
10 o’clock on the morning of
Wednesday, the 27th of Septem
ber, in the year of our Lord, 1911,
Daniel Webster was disconsolately
eating that frugal meal which is
the French breakfast. Not the
great Daniel—all well informed
persons are, of course, aware that
he passed to his reward some CO
years ago—but a well built, fresh
faced, rather good looking young
fellow, still on the right side of
30, who had most inadvisedly
chosen to appear in this world of
trouble on the 100th anniversary
of the birth of the great Daniel,
and who had forthwith been hand
icapped with his name.
.John Webster, r.n honest farmer
of the Connecticut valley, had al
ways boon a worshiper at the
shrine of the eloquent New Eng
le mier. to whom he fancied him
self related, and when, having
taken to himself a wife, that wife
presented him with a son on the
very day when the centenary of
his hero's birth was being cele
brated, the coincidence appeared
to him too momentous to be disre
garded, and the boy was christ
ened Daniel.
It was a thing no thoughtful
lather would have done, and as
Dan grew older, he resented his
name bitterly. It was the subject
of brutal jests from his playmates,
resulting in numberless pitched
battles, and of still more brutal
hazing when he pursued his pre
destined way through the portals
of the university at New Haven.
Here he was promptly rechrist
ened Ichabod, and his real name
was gradually forgotten.
In the depths of his heart, John
Webster may perhaps have hoped
that this was to bo a real reincar
nation. . If so, he was doomed to
disappointment, for the younger
Daniel gave no promise of being
either a statesman or an orator.
But he took to ink as a duck to
water, was never so happy as when
his pen was spoiling good white
paper, was elected editor of the
News, and, commencement over,
took the first train for New York,
stormed the office of the Record,
for which he had acted as college
correspondent, and demanded "
job.
He got it; and began anew th<*'‘
task of living down his name. AT-!
ways, when introduced or intro-1
during himself, he saw in the eyes'
opposite his own that maddening I
glimmer of amusement. Then
gritted his teeth and wi.ifrM
Hie Therj were U possiblej
forms thuNt blijjlit lake. ‘I^r-pTf'd i
often to return that rocky Con- j
’wetient hillside,
sfv'k it out, and, as tirin'"' passed,
Qi* x. ho didn’t mind so rrnv K Ho
even reached the point where he
madeVwts with himself as lo vhicK
if th«\14 i# would be. And l e
irogresfw ! in ,Jher ways; the irr
orml symbol of the progress being i
hat, instead cf enb leporter at $121
i week, hcNwss now one of the!
rusted mernhersvof the staff at six
imos that salary.
Also he was seven years older ■
nd this had been his first long
acatimi—six weeks in England ,
lelgiam, Holland mid France—
lorious weeks; but his eves were ‘
ching for the lights of Broadway,]
and liis fingers itching for the pen
,'eil. The most exacting and be
, witching of all professions was
t;clamoring for him again.
Having disposed of the rolls and
| coffee, he rose reluctantly, stepped
out upon the beach, and filled and
lighted his pipe—-with a grimace
at the first puff, for French to
bacco is the worst in the world,
outside of Germany. Before him
lay the mighty breakwater which
guards the harbor, with its light
house in the middle and,its fort at
either end, while to his left were
the great naval basins, hewn from
the solid lock. To the right, be
low the high sea wall, the narrow
beach stretched away, empty and
uninviting.
Dan felt depressed. Cherbourg,
evidently was not an exciting
place. lie bad never seen an
uglier b^aeh, but, after a moment’s
hesitation, he started off along it.
Perhaps, farther on, it might im
prove.
The tide was going out, and in
the little basins in the sand minute
crabs and strange sea midgets
scuttled about panic stricken' at
finding themselves marooned;
here and there a stranded jelly
fish glowed like an iridescent soap
bubble, and, farther out, an ugly
mud flat began to be revealed by
the retreating water. Some dis
tance ahead, a ridge of tumbled
rocks ran from the s»a wall down
into the water, and, as he drew
nearer, he saw that on one of the
rocks a girl was sitting.
He glanced at her as he passed,
and would have liked to glance
again, for he had never met more
arresting eyes, but he was going
on with face rigidly to the front,
when her voice startled him.
“Pardon, monsieur,’’ ..he said.
It was a contralto voice, of a qual
ity that made his pidser ' <p.
He stopped short and turned
toward, her, increduP- that it
could be ho to whom si id spok
en. But there was no one else in
sight; and then he gow . hat her
hands were gripped t • y in her
lap and ihat her lips quiver
ing.
“Is something - mg?" he
asked, and took a coward her.
“is there anythin'1 ! m do?’’
“Oh !“ she crie ! r face light
ing, and a wave o or sweeping
into her cheeks. “ . . 1 you are an
American!’’
“ Yes; thank G • ' " ’
“So say l!” sin hoed. “For
.ayself, I mean. I i > am an Amer
ican. We will ;vv;ak English,
then.”
“I should much prefer it,” he
smiled. “My French is wholly
academic—and covered with moss,
at that. It doesn’t even enable me
to get my eggs turned!”
She looked at him, the color
deepening in her cheeks. Dan,
looking back, decided that he had
never seen such eyes; he could
scarcely believe that she was an
American. She did not look in the
least like one. But she was speak
ing rapidly.
“lain in trouble,” she said, *‘as
the result of my own carelessness.
I was crossing these rocks, with
out watching sufficiently where I
was going, and my foot slipped.
See,” and she swept aside her
skirts. “I cannot get it out.”
Dan was on his knees in an in
stant.
“Is it hurt?” he asked.
“I think not; or at most only a
little strained. But it is wedged
between these big rocks, and I
cannot move it.”
Dan touched the foot, and found
that it was, indeed, wedged fast.
Then he examined the rocks, and
finally, bending above the smaller
one, placed Ids arms firmly about
it, braced his feet, and lifted. It
would have been worth while to
have seen the play of his back and
shoulder muscles as the strain
tightened, but it was over in a mo
ment. For the rock rose slowly,
skwlv, aiul the foot was free. He
iet the rock drop softly back,
stood ;.p and brushed the sand
from Ids sleeves. The girl bent
and rubbed her ankle.
“Is if all right?" he asked.
“1 think so, and she took an
not .even ojlwijsod. rilmt fe
nd*: lei :?TP of Portiio(l','' she r,di|ed,
looting up at him. her eyes Very
bright.
He laughed.
••^Poi/hcs would have done if
with hand, he said, " while
saluting ,vy" with the other.”
She hesukded a Utile, looking
•dong the bcjiyh ; and he, guessing;
fits, thought, ra. HOt* l‘aP nn<11
rtarfW to walk on. u,nt ?S«»n her,
voice sfdfcood hifH.V * erliaps she,]
:oo, wc.# Roirr^thing nmul read
er. . , , ,
"1 cW# you some t?**\, 's: •'0,1
•now. ’ ’ tol.e'said. ‘ ‘ You. nwft nt
)ff till IW J»aid them !*"
Dan swu1^ around, him ^ °
flowing.
“Not thani^r' he nrtdMrOUhV
‘But if you wvSflld taWpiff rWc fi'
enely exile balk ^ id b&tt *.
little, you’d certainly be doing a
| noble action!”
! “Is it as Lad as all that?” and
I Dan noticed how the corners of
| her eyes crinkled when she smiled.
“You can’t imagine how lonely
I've been!” he said. “Especially
the past few day-s-. I didn't feel it
so much till I was starting home.
America!” and he took off his hat.
“The land of freedom!” she
Added, softly.
"Do you feel it that way, too?”
he asked eagerly. “I’ve never
been much of a patriot—just took
things as a matter of course, I
guess; but six weeks in Europe is
enough to make a patriot of any
American. Whenever I see the old
flag, I feel like going down on my
knees and kissing it. I’ve just be
gun to realize what it stands for!”
She had turned back toward the
hotel, walking slowly with Dan be
side her, and her face was beaming
as she looked up at him.
“You are right—oh, so right!”'
she cried. “And how much more
would you realize it if, like me,
you had been born in another
country and felt for yourself the
injustice, the oppression, of which
you have seen only a little! For
such as I, America is indeed the
Promised Laud!”
So she was foreign born! Dan
glanced at her with a shy curios
ity.
“You are a Russian?” he asked.
“Pardon me if I seem intrusive.”
“You do not. No, I am not a
Russian. Worse than that! Iam
a Pole!”
The words were uttered with a
tragic emphasis which left him
speechless. He could think of
nothing to say that was not banal
or superficial, and he realized that
here were deep waters! He glanced
once or twiee at her face, which
had grown suddenly dark and
brooding; then, with a little mo
tion of her hands, she seemed to
push her thoughts away.
“You do not know much of
Polish history, perhaps,” she said,
in a lighter tone. “But if j^ou are
fond of tales of heroism, you
should rclid it, for it is one long
heroism. It will help you to re
alize more fully what your flag
stands for. It is my flag, too; 1
have lived in America nearly 10
years; and never do I grow so
angry as when I hear an American
speak slightingly of his country.
Here is the hotel. Forgive me for
talking like this; but it has done
me good to meet you!”
“And me!” he said “Must vou
go in?”
i os; my rattier will be wouuer- '
ing where I am. Good by.”
She held out her hand and gave
his a frank little pressure. Theu
she turned and left him.
He watched until the door
swung shut behind her; then ha
walked on slowly, past the great
basins, over the drawbridge, along
the crooked streets of the old
town, past the station, and finally
he stopped in the shadow of a crag
of rock which sprang abruptly 300
feet into the air. Its summit was
crowned by the. frowning walls of
the great fort which commands tho
harbor, and along the lace of the
cliff, blpe with heather, a narrow
er footpath wound deviously up
ward. He ascended this for a lit- [
tie way, and then, stepped, his el ’
bows on the wall which guarded
it. Before him stretched the bay,
shielded by its jetty, and beyond
rolled the white capped ocean.
That way lay America.
“The land of freedom!” he mur
mured, and his eyes were bright.
“The land of freedom!”
CHAPTER XI. v' i
SHIPMATES.
When Dan got hack to the hotel |
for lunch, he found that there had
been many arrivals during the
morning. The Adriatic was to sail j
that afternoon, as well as the Ot- I
tilie, and the long dining room at !
the hotel was a busy place. As the
head waiter led him to a seat, he
caught a glimpes, far off, of the
girl of the morning. She was sit
ting at a table with a white haired
mar. her fath:r, of course—with
whom she was talking earnestly.
did not look up, and, in an
other instant. Pan’s guide had
pull<d out 0 chair, and he found
himself sitting with his hack
toward the only person in the room
v •(> interested him.
< CONTI N Ur5~NKXT~ WEEkT)
The One Ho Wanted.
Truing Isaac *tood in line at the library
to tirrov out a book. When hla turn cam-'
he arkfd. respectfully. "Please give nu
Miss AJcoU’f low book."
The young lady looked pinssled. "A book
by Mfcis Ia>uls3 M. Alcott?" ehe queried.
"Can you remember the title?"
"No; but it's her Jew book." he Insist' d
"Well, ITI read ever some of tho tit>«
of her book* to you, and peihaps you can
tell me tho one you want when you h? i
it road." Patiently she began. "Utth
Women. LJttfc Men, I’nder the Ulacs,
Rose in Rlcom—"
"That** T. t hit's It!" cried Isaac—
4‘Hose n bloom."
Harder Still,
"ft'.* herd to huso a beautiful daughter.'
aid th* guest. »ympathftt*,,*-al!y, ftt the
driing feast.
»v r g a, b^rre sight hardier to lose the
iy own." repTlod tha pld man. who
veml yet la »o.
/
Pope's Appeal for Peace t
Asks Nations to End War
By Associated Press.
London, Aug. IS.—Tne foreign office
has issued the French text of the letter
from the pope to the king, inclosing a
copy of his appeal to the heads of the
belligerent people.
"Your majesty, the holy father, anx
ious to do everything he can in order
to put an end to the conflict which for
the last three years has ravaged the
civilized world, has decided to submit
to the leaders of the belligerent peoples
concrete peace proposals exposed in a
document which I have the honor to at
tach to this letter. May God grant that
the words of his holiness will this time
produce the desired effect for the good
of tne whole of humanity.
"Tlie holy see not having diplomatic
relations with the. French government
or with the government of Italy or the
j United States, I very respectfully beg
I your majesty to- be good enough to
have handed a copy of his holiness’
appeal to the president of the French
republic, to his majesty, the king of
Italy, and to the president of the Unit
. ed States. I also beg to add 12 other
' copies which I request your majesty to
, be good enougli to hand to the leaders
of the nations friendly to the allies,
with the exception, however, of Russia,
Belgium and Brazil, to whom the docu
ment has been sent direct.
“In expressing to your majesty my
sincere thanks for this extreme kind
ness I am happy to take the opportun
ity to offer you in homage and senti
ment a very profound respect with
which I have the honor to sign myself
your majesty’s very humble and devot
ed servant. Gasparri.”
The Pope’s Proposals.
The appeal follows:
| "To the leaders of the belligerent
peoples: Since the beginning of our
pontificate the horrors of a terrible
war having been let loose on Europe,
we have In view, above everything,
three things to preserve: Perfect im
partiality towards all belligerents as is
suitable for him. who is the common
father and who loves all his children
with equal affection; continually to at
tempt to do all the good possible, and
that without exception of person, with
out distinction of nationality or re
ligion as is dictated to us by the uni
versal law of charity which the supreme
spiritual charge has confided to us with
Christ; and, finally, as our pacific mis
sion also requires to onr.it nothing as
long as it is in our power which might
contribute to hasten the end of this ca
lamity by trying to lea l people and
their leaders ;o more moderate reso
lution to hasten a serene deliberation
of peace just and durable.
Declares Impartiality.
"Whoever has fallowed our work
during these three painful years which
have just passed has been able easily to
recognize that if we* had always re
mained faithful to our resolve of abso
lute inparttality and to our attitude of
benevolence we have not ceased to
exhort the peoples and the belligerent
brothers again to become brethren, al
though publicity has not been given to
all that we have done to attain this
very noble aim.
"Towards the end of the first year
of the war we addressed to the nations
in conflict most lively exhortations, and,
more, we indicated the part to be fol
lowed to arrive at a stable and honor
able peace for all. Unfortunately our
appeal was not heard and the war con
tinued desperately for another tv,’9
years with -’ll its Tt bee a mo
even move cruel and extended over the
earth, over the sea and in the air, and
one saw desolation and death descend
upon the cities without defense, upon
peaceful villages and on their innocent
population, and now no one can imagine
how the sufferings of ail would be in
creased and aggravated if other months,
or, worse still, other years ar^ about to
be added to this sanguinary trlennlum.
Intervention Implored.
“Is this civilized world to be nothing
more than a field of death? And Eu
rope so glorious and so flourishing, is it
going, as if stricken by a universal
madness, to run to the abyss and to
lend its hand to its own suicide?
“In such a terrible situation as in
the presence of menace so serious we
who have no particular political aim,
and do not listen to suggestions or to
the interests of any of the belligerent
parties, but are solely compelled by a
sentiment of our supreme duty as the
common father of the faithful, by the
solicitation of our children who implore
our Intervention and our pacifying
work.
Suggests Concrete Terms.
“Through the voice even of human
ity and of reason we once more emit
the cry of peace, and we renew a
pressing appeal to those who hold in
their hands the destinies of nations.
But in order no longer to speak in
general terms as the circumstances had
counselled us in the past we now wish
to make more concrete and practical
proposals and to invite the governments
of the belligerent peoples to come to an
agreement upon the following points
which seem to be a basis of a just and
durable peace, leaving to them the task
of analyzing and completing them.
"First of all the fundamental points
must he that the material force of
arms bo substituted by the moral force
of rigtit from which shall arise a fair
agreement by all for tile simultaneous
and reciprocal diminution of arma
ments. according to the rules and guar
antees to be established in a measure
necessary and sufficient for the main
tenance of public order in each state.
Then in the substituton for armies the
Institution of arbitration, with its high
pacifying function, according to the
rules to be laid down and the penalties
to be imposed on a state which would
refuse either to submit a national ques
tion to arbitration or to accept its de
cision.
Freedom of the Seas.
“Once the supremacy »f right lots
thus been established, all obstacles to
the means of communication of the
peoples would disappear by assuring,
by roles to be fixed later, the true lib
erty and community of the seas which
would oontrbute to end the numerous
causes of conflet and would also open
to all. new sources of prosperty and
progress.
"As to the damages to be repaired,
and as to war expenses, we see no oth
er means of solving the question than
by submitting as a general principle
the «omplete and reciprocal condona
tion which would he justified more
oyer by the disarmament, so much so
that no one will understand the con
tinuation of a similar coinage solely
for reasons of an economic order.
"If for certain cases there exist par
ticular reasons, they would be deliber
ated upon with justice and equity, but
these pacific agreements, with the Im
mense advantages to be derived from
them, are not possible without a recip
rocal restitution of the territory at
present occupied.
Suggests Giving Up Land.
“Consequently, on the part of tier
many. the complete evacuation of Rel
ginni. with tlte guarantee of her full
political military and economic inde
pendence towards it.
The evacuation of French Semitory.
On the pa*t ot ocher belligerent pwrtftee
similar restitution of the German col
onies.
"As regards the territorial questions
as, for example, those which have aris-JL
en between Italy and Austria, and he^ "
( tween Germany and Fiance. there isl
reason to hope that in jtonsidorution ol'
the immense disadvantages of a dtir- I
able peace with disarmament, the par- '
ties in conflict would wish to examine
them with a conciliatory disposition
taking into consideration, as we have
said formerly, the aspirations of the
peoples and the special interests ant
the general we.fare of the great human
society.
"The same spirit of equity and jus
tice ought to be followed in the de
termination of the other territorial and
i political questions, notably those rela
tive to Armenia and the Balkan states,
and territory making a part of the an
cient kingdom of Poland, whose noble
; and historic traditions and sufferings
| whicti it has endured especially during
the present war ought to conciliate the
sympathies of nations.
Future Wars Impossible.
“Such are the principal bases where
on we believe the future reorganization
of the peoples ought to be built. They
i are of a nature to render impossible
| the return of similar conflicts and to
prepare a solution of the economic
j question so important for the future
' and for the material well being of all
! belligerent states.
I “Therefore, in presenting to you who
direct at this hour the destines of the
belligerent nations we are animated to
see them accepted and to see thu3 the
conclusion at an early date of the ter- .
rible struggle which more and more ap- /
pears a useless massacre. J
i “The whole world recognzes that I
the honor of the armies of both side»
( is safe. Incline your ears, therefore, to
our prayer. Accept the fraternal in
vitation which we send you in the name
of the Divine Redeemer, the prince of
peace. Reflect on your very grave re
sponsibility before God and before men.
| “On your decision depend the repose
and the joy of innumerable families,
the life of thousands of young people;
I in a word, the happiness of a people —»
i for whom it is your absolute duty to nfc
i obtain their welfare. ?
! “May the Lord inspire your decision i
in conformity to His very holy will. May 1l
God grant that while meriting the ap- «
plause of your contemporaries you will ^
also obtain in the future generations a
splendid name of pacificators.
“As for us closely united in prayer
and in penitence, with all those faith
ful souls which sigh for peace, we im
plore for you the light and counsels of
i the divine spirit. Benedict.
“At the Vatican, August 1.”
How Prussianicm Is Worked.
From the American Review of Reviews.
The executive government of Prussia is
wholly in the hands of the king, whose
council of ministers is appointed by royal
decree. The Prussian law making body
has two chambers, the upper one which
i3 made up of royal princes, territorial
1 nobility, and a number of magnates named '
by the king, with a few burgomasters of
large cities. The lower house, which has
44S members, is elected by the great body
of Prussian citizens above the age of
25, on the now famous three class system.
Those who pay the highest taxes to the
total extent of one-third of all the taxes
paid, constitute the first class and exer
• Sif1' °Jie-third of the electoral power.
TnJHfir’whofce ta-Ss In the aggregate con
stitute a second amount equal to a third
of the whole, form the voters of the sec
ond class, and they In turn have a third
, of the voting power. All the rest of the
citizens who nay taxes constitute the third
class * • • Tho first and second classes,
made up of ihe large taxpayers and con
stituting perhaps 15 per cent of the entire
number of voters, have twice as much
political power as the remaining S5 per
, cent of the voters. Thus a voter of the
. first class in Berlin has 50 times as much
political power as a voter of the third
| class. In tho Kssen district, where the
Krupp works are located, it is within
bounds to say that one voter of the first
class has as much voting power as 50,000
| voters of the third class.
I Couldn’t Fool Him.
Billy Sunday stopped a newsbov the a
other day and inquired the way to the IF
postoffice. |
“Up one block and turn to the right,"
said the boy.
“You seem a bright fellow," said Sun- »
day. "Do you know who I am?"
"Nope!” (
"I’m Billy Sunday, and if you come to
my meeting tonight I’ll show you the way
to heaven."
"Aw, go on," answered the youngster
“You didn’t even know the way to the
postoffice." i'
One Advantage.
From the Buffalo Kxpress.
"A poor joke is better than a good joke
In one respect at least."
"How’s that?"
"One's likely to hear the last of a poot
Joke."
Woman's Way.
From Judge.
Bank Cashier—You owe us a consider
able overdraft, madam. What shall we
do about It?
She—You may charge it, please.
Barred.
From Puck.
"Why wouldn't the recruiting officer
tak* you?"
"Said they had all the wrist watch
winders they needed.”
The New Profession.
There may be gold and precious stones
and other riches rare,
But right along aside of them, with which
they can’t compare,
I’d like to name another thing, a eertair
kind of gink
Who k«» a treasure and a jewel—the party
who can think.
I Ms never r*e*ds to hunt a job or howl
gbout a raise;
i He makes his business thinking. and h#
finds that thinking pays.
The ordinary dub may do for slinging
<‘nsh or ink. , ; ,
But every little while they need the fel- ’•<
low who can think.
1 When he bump* *»P against a wall In
doing this or that.
He doesn’t give the matter up and droj:
It where It’s at;
There ‘e-n’t any obstacle that puts hire
or. the blink—
He finds me other way to do. the per*
son v.ho can think.
We talk about commodities forever in de
mand
Hike food and clothing, anything in all tht
mighty land; ^
But there’s a market always brisk, it JfUjH
skies are gray or pink— *
The market for the valuable gazabo whe jBH
can think. ■ ?
The funny thing about It is it isn’t ans
gift. ]
It’s t the difference between the mer 9H
who work or drift— ?
It’s j?tft the difference between the easy
going gink ‘
And one who takes the trouble just tt B
stop a bit and think. JjL
■ Young man. if you are wondering what M
business to adopt
Or »eck an occupation where you nevei |
can be stopped.
If ywu would like to win success, and iM
win it In a wink,
Adopt this new profession—be the fellow ■
who can think!
'—Douglas ASaFoob, in American ImvDvs f
man. /
