(CHAPTER XIV. (Continued.)
When she returned Ellen wag retailing
little bits of news that the bad beard
from Colonel Severn the night before,
and Mr. Bowyer was talking more bright
ly than he had done for some time. After
ward Ellen went OTer "to the m riting
table. She had determined to beg Colo
nel Severn to say nothing of what she
bad so thoughtlessly admitted the night
before.
"Dear Colonel Severn," she wrote,
"what I said last night was said impul
sively and without thought. It might in
jure me irretrievably were it to liemme
known that I had been an actress. May
I rely upon your kindness to keep it
secret? I wish I could tell you all: but
that is impossible. I can only throw my
self upon your generosity and trust you
will think as well as you possibly can of
Yours sincerely. ELLEN VAIUK."
She slipped the note into an envelope
and directed it. An opportunity to send
it came sooner than she expected. A
man arrived from the Abbey with a
basket of flowi re iind fruit; n iI. intercept
ing him. she emptied the contents her
self and gave him the note to take back.
No answer came that day. Ou the fol
lowing morning, about the time a mes
senger usually came from the Abbey,
Eilen went down the road until she met
the man.
"Have you a letter for me?" she asked,
stopping short.
".No, miss" touching his hat respect
' fully. "The Colonel went to Imton yes-
tenia j ; but the butler said as how he'd
send your letter on with some others."
Stopping, she buried her fai-e among the
' sweet-smelling flowers. ne magnincent
white lily raised its head above the rest,
- and Ellen took it in her hand.
"What a beauty!" she said, admiringly.
"Stewart says it's the biggest he has
- ipver reared. The nMiMter saw it the other
- day when 'twas only in bud, and he said,
'You must send that to the Ihmer House
the young lady there is fond of flow-
era.' "
f'l W'N carry it myself." she said, and
motioned to him to go on.
She sighed, and laid the lovely blossom
softly against her cheek. Then wfapther
startled by her own action or some sud
den thought, she flung it from her, and,
walking on rapidly, left it to wither on
the ground.
CHAITKli XV.
A few mornings Inter, its Elleu came out
of her bedroom. Mrs. I'riolo emerged
from hers also, and called her by name.
She was in .1 violet flannel dreasing
fown, and capless, and her disordered
srray hair gave her so unusual an ap
pearance that for the moment Ellen
scarcely recognized the prim housekeeper
who was ordinarily seen only in the
stiff est and most conventional attire.
"What is the matter?" cried Ellen, in
mirprise.
"I've had a dreadful night. The rats
never let me sleep a moment hardly.
They're bad enough always, bot last
night they were beyond all bearing."
"I have never been troubled by them at
all," said Ellen, adding, with a puzzled
look. "I have never heard yon complain
before. Are you coming down to break
fa StV
"No, I'm too worn-out. I want you to
tell Mr. Bowyer the reason why I could
not come. 1 must have an hour's sleep
before I dress."
Ellen took especial pains that every
thing should be as nice as, if not nicer
than, usual that morning; but Mr. Bow
yer came down in a cross humor, and
was difficult to please. The housekeeper
liad been with him so Ions, and never be
fore had anything occurred to keep her
fruin the morning meal. He fnmed and
fretted about it. and could talk of nothing
else during the breakfast.
"We must Hud something to get rid
-of the lasts'." he declared, impatiently,
-once or twice."
Then Mrs. I'riolo came down, looking
much as usual in spite of the air of in
validism that she had adopted, and the
subject of the rats was resumed.
"I'm sure I don't know what is to be
done," said Mr. Bowyer, hopelessly.
"A rat-trap is the only thing I ran think
of. That is a very slow way of getting
rid of them; but what els can any one
etiggest?"
Mrs. I'riolo looked at Ellen as she spoke,
and, wearied of the discussion, the girl
answered somewhat impatiently:
"Why not lay down poison?"
"Why not?" said Mr. Bowyer. "I will
write a note to tbe chemist at tireal
haven, and you shall go in yourself."
At the same moment the gate closed,
and the postman came along the path.
There were two letters one for Mrs.
I'riolo and one for Ellen Wardo.
It was the first that had ever come to
Klk-n, but she felt no doubt whence It
was, even if the large bold handwriting
and the device of Iondon club on the
thick square envelope had not told her.
Blushing violently, she took it from the
man, and proceeded to her room.
The fresh antnnin air awept in and lift
ed her short curls, cooling her hot far as
be opened the letter that had com it
last. Its first perusal disappointed her a
Utile wltboat reason she confessed, with
Mlf-sjpbraidlng for why should abe have
expected More from him, or much ? It
was a kindly letter, and a friendly one.
Anything beyond would hare been frnlf
lass, aa welcome even, she told herself,
wHa a touch of baatenr; then, raising It
Jnm the ground, to which It had flattaMd
from her hand, she read it through again.
"My Dear Miss Warde: Your note
was forwarded to me only this morning,
and I hasten to assure you that you have
nothing to fear from me. Anything you
have ever told me I consider sacred, and
will guard more jealously than any se
cret of my own. I only wish I might take
the whole burden on myself, and leave
you free.
"A telegram from Charlie, reminding
me that it was his birthday and begging
me to spend it with him, took me away
quite unexpectedly. For the first time I
had forgotten it and this bis coining of
age too.' We are too uew to the country
to celebrate it in the nsual way, as I
should have liked to do. A few days at
most will s.-e me back. Will you believe
that I am already anxious to exchange
the gayeties of town for the quietude of
the Abbey and the privilege of an oc
casional visit to the Ifciwer House? I
should be glad if my boy could accom
pany me, but I feel it is too much to ask
of him yet. I hope that Mr. Bowyer's
health is improving, and that you your
self are well. I'ntil we meet, which will
be very soon, believe me, your sincere
friend. GEOUGE SEVERN.
"!' S. I have become quite a frequent
er of theaters, which for certniu reasons
I view now with different eye. If any
thing, 1 have gone to an opposite ex
treme, and am inclined to fancy that
every woman who has tried the stage is
what I know one to be."
This time she read between the lines,
and was conscious of an undercurrent of
tenderness that sent the blood coursing
through her veins and made her eyelids
droop, though none could see what ber
eyes might have betrayed. Friendship
was a pleasant thing and sweet; but love
was far, far sweeter. She was a mere
child in the ways of the world when
unwisely she gave away her heart unask
ed, though not entirely unsought. Now
she was a woman, and with a woman's
unerring intuition knew that the man
whose letter was in her hand now press
ed closely to her bosom, now to tier lips
was her lover, and beloved.
CHAPTER XVI.
"Here's a letter from Severn, Ellen;
he's back, and coming to see us this after
noon. Some Australian a Mr. Wray, I
read it is with him; and he wants to
bring him. too, if 1 am well enough to re
ceive a stranger."
"And are you well enough?" asked the
girl.
"I am about the same as usual; but a
talk with some one from the old country
will never barm me. It will be like a
breath of Australian air, keen but exhil
arating." The little sitting-room looked its best
when Mr. Bowyer entered about four
o'clock, to enjoy the treat in store for
him. It had been the subject of his con
versation all day.
Voices were heard outside; the next
moment Colonel Severn entered; and,
having greeted Mr. Bowyer warmly, and
Ellen with an involuntary empressement
of which she could not but be conscious,
he turned to indicate his friend.
"Mr. Weare a countryman of yours,"
he said.
A momentary pause, during which Mr.
Bowyer was wondering where he bad
seen before the dark-looking face and
tall slight figure of the young man Intro
duced. "We met about a year ago, when I
was on my way back from India," con
tinued Colonel Severn; "and I was lucky
enough to come across him again while
up in town this time."
The stranger interposed.
"I think the luck was all on my side,"
he said, in a voice that, pleasant as it
was, struck two of the hearers with dis
may. To Mr. Bowyer It was perfectly
familiar, though he could not remember
where he had heard it last. "Tbe Colonel
saved me from drowning when coming
home; and really I believe he has saved
me from something nearly as bad now.
Ixmdon, to a stranger who knows none
of the celebrities or institutions, is one of
tbe dreariest places In tbe world."
"Have you never heard," asked Mr.
Bowyer, "that It Is a dangerons thing to
rescue a man from drowning? There ia
a superstitions idea that the act recoils on
yourself, and is your own undoing."
"Oh, If we stayed to listen to the teach
ings of superstition !" smiled Colonel Sev
ern. "Perhaps it might tie well if we did
sometimes," returned Mr. Bowyer. "How
often ft seems aa though a benefit con
ferred engendered a feeling of ill-will,
rather than gratitude.
"I hope it is not so. Nay, I am sure
it cannot he," answered the young man,
warmly.
Mr. Bowyer had spoken bitterly, yet
even as the words fell from his lips he
knew that tbe thoughts they clothed
emanated from Mrs, I'riolo's brain not
his own. He dared not glance in Ellen's
direction, lest he should meet her re
proachful gaxe.
When the granger had first spoken
Ellen had shrunk hack into the shadow of
a dark curtain, clasping Ita heavy folds
convulsively for support. Her brain waa
in a whirl, and each word of Mr. Bow
yer's last speech stabbed her like the
sharp Incision of a knife; yet ber very
suffering gave her momentary strength.
Wearily she crept away, her eiit unno
ticed by anyone save George Severn.
"From what part of Australia do yon
cuius?" asked Mr. Bowyer abruptly, and
revel ved the brief reply:
"Sydney."
In a niuiuent it flashed across tbe old
man's mind he bsd seen bis visitor be
fore. He was uoue other than that Ger
ald Wears whose bnde bad been taken
from him in so horrible a fashion a month
before his wedding day, and for whose
sake Elaine Warrington was supposed to
have committed a crime.
At that uiomeut a shrill cry was besrd
outside, aud Mrs. I'riolo threw open the
door.
"Here's Miss Ellen lying ou the ground
in a dead faint!" she cried. "Whatever
can have hapened?"
It was Severn who made the first move
to cross over to her side. She had fallen
senseless across the doorway. He knelt
dow n and raised her brad un bis arm
Mr. Bowyer appeared helpless with dis
may, but Gerald Weare came near aud
looked down at ber with an expression
of somewhat stereutvped pity. Then an
involuntary exclamation broke from his
lips.
It was only tbe ejaculation of a name,
as though he had suddeuly recognized the
senseless woman. Mr. Bowyer jumped
up from his w-at as though electrified
Mrs. I'riolo retained possession of all her
faculties.
"You've known the poor young lady be
fore," she observed to Mr. Weare. "Don't
you think we bad better place ber on tbe
sofa?
But Mr. Bowyer interfered. He was
determined that Ellen should not return
to consciousness before them all, and per
haps betray herself in her first bewilder
ment. Violently agitated as he was, h
managed to express clesrly his desire that
the girl should be taken to her own room
at on re.
Obediently the Colonel gathered her in
his arms and bore her up the narrow
stairs, wishing the distance greater still
in spite of her dead weight indeed the
wild elation that filled him at the close
contact precluded all idea of fatigue.
CHAPTER XVII.
Returned to the Abbey. ,George Severn
and his guest, after dinner, smoked their
cigars in almost absolute silence, each
being too absorbed in his own thoughts to
notice the abstraction of the other. Of
the two the Colonel seemed the more per
turbed. He was wondering where and
bow Miss Warde and Mr. Weare had
known each other, and what would be the
result of their chance meeting. Another
thing puzzled him. It was certainly not
a surname that had escaped Weare's lips
on first recognition, but it also was not
"Ellen;" it had a longer, softer sound.
He thought it must have been "Elaine."
The subject of that afternoon's incident
was not broached until Mr. Weare said,
as they stood up to say good night:
,'Ty the bye, w hat was the tiHine of the
old gentleman we visited to-diiy?"
"Mr. Bowyer. He practiced as a law
yer in Australia. I believe."
"And and the yonng lady?"
"She was Miss Ellen Warde. his niece."
"Have thpy been here any time?"
"About six months. Good night." said
the Colonel, curtly, closing the conversa
tion. The next morning Colonel Severn look
ed older and more sallow than usual, after
a sleepless night. He found his visitor
down before him, and pacing the terrace
in front of the bouse, apparently having
passed as restless a night as the Colonel
himself.
They were in the middle of a conversa
tion which they endeavored in vain to
render animated when the under-gardener
returned with bis empty basket from the
Dower House.
Colonel Severn's quick sight immediate
ly detected a letter in the man's hand
indeed be had half expected that Ellen
would write to him. He made a hasty
movement forward, and hail snatched it
impatiently before the man had time to
explain that it was not for him, but Mr.
Weare. UeliuquNliiiig it at once, n sharp
pang of jealousy made him unable to do
more than stammer out an opology. Then
he turned abruptly on his heel and went
indoors.
Gerald Weare, how ever, showed no ela
tionindeed the anxious expression on his
face became intensified as he broke the
seal aud read the letter. When he came
to the end of it he tore the pncr into
shreds and followed his host -into the
bouse.
No allusion was made to the letter dur
ing breakfast: and when the meal wus
over Colonel Severn asked his companion
what be would like to do.
"Would you mind," asked Gerald
Weare, deprecating!)', "if I went some,
where on my own account this morning?
There is something I ought to do some
thing that has turned up rather unexpect
edly. In fact."
"My dear fellow, don't explain," Inter
rupted the Colonel, hastily; "I wish you
to do exactly as you please."
"It is more than good of you to allow
me to come and go unquestioned like
this.1" exclaimed Weare. "The fact is.
Miss Warde and I are not strangers; we
have met before, and "
"And you naturally wish to see her
again?"
"Yes that is just it. I will walk over
there now, if you will excuse me."
He rose, and with a nod and smile of
farewell, left the room. George Severn
remained alone, moodily smoking. He
understood at last. This was the man
Elaine loved he called her "Klaiue" in
his thoughts already the name suited
ber so well, it beca me familiar at once.
With a half-smothered groan Severn rose
and flung away the cigar. Maddened by
the thought that already probably they
were together, be snatched up bis bat and
went oat with no destination in view.
He walked on rapidly, bis eyes fixed on
the ground, scarcely knowing In which
direction be waa going, when suddenly,
passing through a narrow lane, be stum
bled, and. Instinctively looking up, saw
a little way in front of him tbe flutter of
a petticoat. A second glance snowed him
that the woman waa Mrs. I'riolo. She
was bent nearly double, creeping on slow
ly in tbe ahelter of a hedge, evidently play
ing the spy. But on whom?
In tbe center of a large meadow full of
grazing cattle, under tbe shadow of an
old oak, stood Ellen Warde aud Mr.
Weare. There waa nothing lover-like in
their attitude, he could see; but they were
talking earnestly. Was the housekeeper
trying to discover their secret? Quickly
yet quietly be walked on, and laid hia band
firmly on her shoulder.
"What are you doing here?"
There was a suppressed scream aa the
woman, rising from ber bent position,
twisted her neck round to tee who waa
her assailant When abe found it was the
Colonel, her face cleared a little. What
she bad been watching so Intently would
surely be no pleasant sight to him.
"Mweetheartinf," she whispered, mean
ingly. "They have mads rapid strides
in their acquaintance, if they met for the
first time yesterday."
"Whether they have known each other
before or not is no business of ours!" de
clared the Colonel, sternly. "You will
come with lue to the Dower House at
ouce. I intend to ssk Mr. Bowyer if be
allows his housekeeper to act the spy
upon his niece."
"She's no more ids niece than I am.'
She's "
But her communicativeness was stop
ped at once by a gesture, and Severn's
uplifted hand pointed out tbe way that
she was to take.
"Wry well, I'm ready enough to go if
you like; but are you sure" maliciously
"you're doing her a good turn? I don't
want to make ujisi-bief; but, if I'm forced
to speak. I'll say out all I know."
An expression of doubt ou her hearer's
face encouraged ber to proceed.
"Why. you don't think." she went on,
boldly, "that Mr. Bowyer would keep her
another moment in bis house if be heard
all I could tell 7"
"I think you are a very w icked woman!"
eiclaiuied Severn.
"What for watching those two just
now? Why, all women are interested in
a bit of love-making; curiositv is no sin!
M iss arde Bud I are good friends euougti
if you will only leave us alone."
Severn bit hi lip and tugged at his
dark mustache in deep perplexity. She
might be speaking the truth it might in
jure Ellen were be to Insist upon bring
ing this before Mr. Bowyer.
"After all, they're doing no barm,"
went on Mrs. I'riolo. "She's fond of him.
no doubt, for she has kept some flowers
he gave her years ago, and has painted
a picture of him, too."
"Silence, woman! Go!" thundered out
the Colonel; then, as she turned ohedi
ently, be walked away in the opposite
direction.
Would it have comforted him could he
have been au unobserved spectator of
what took place at the meeting which
circumstances had prevented from being
so secret as had been intended?
Elaine had arrived first, and stood lean
ing against the gunrlcd trunk of the old
oak. waiting for the other. She was as
white as a sheet and trembling In every
limb when at last Gerald Weare arriv
ed. He sike first:
"To neither of us ran this unexpected
meeting be anything but painful."
"It is very strange that the whole world
is not big enough to bide in" dreamily.
"What made you choose this plan-?"
asked he.
"It whs Mr. Bowyer's idea. He said
that I should be safer in an English vil
lage than traveling about and meeting
different jH-oplc every day."
"He was right quite right. It wa
the merest chance or would you call il
destiny ? that brought me here."
"You won't betray me?" eagerly.
"1? No. Do you think nie such a cur?
Heaven knows I have no desire to revive
the past I only want to forget! Do you
know" in awed, low tones "when I saw
you lying there senseless in that dimly
lighted passage, I thought for a moment
you were Ada."
"Risen from the dead?"
"Yi-s, risen from the dead to comfort
anil innsole me the Ada who loved me,
telling me so in artless, childish fashion
every hour; not the Ada wbe loved an
other, and was marrying me only for my
money."
A low cry escaped the girl's pale lips:
she sprung forward and caught hold of
his arm.
"You know all that? Who told you?"
"I discovered it for myself. You may
be sure no one else had the common hon
esty to open my eyes."
"But when when and how?"
"What does it matter?" he asked,
roughly shaking off her hand. "Soon
enough to prevent my breaking my heart
when w hen she died."
Elaine shuddered. The subject was
too terrible a one to be pursued.
"I begged her so often to be true to her
self and you!" she whispered at last.
He stood over her and looked down
straight into her eyes.
"Do you know they used to tell me that
if if I had not sought Ada 1 might have
won Elaine? I wonder if that was true?"
To be concluded.)
The Lady or the Woods.
Because of the grace, sllgbtness. and
elegance of Its figure, the lilrch tree baa
liecn well nil mod the Lady of the
Woods. Though not much used In the
tlmlx-r trnde. It Is nevertheless employ
ed In a variety of other ways. The
birch hark canoe of the Red IihIIrii Ijhk
never Iweu surpassed In Imnts of tills
class. Its silver stem lias lx-en tapped
for its sugary sap. from which a wine
lias ticeii made; Imit Iihh lieen brewed
from Its tender shoots, ami tea litis Ix'cn
prepared from Its leaves. There Is
starch enough In its bark to form a rude
kind of bread for the semi-savage folk
in the icy North. It yields au oil, which
gives to Russian leather Its agreeable
odor. In Russia they use the wood
for rooting, boxes, jars, shoes, car
riages, furniture and spoons, of which
last named article as uiany as thirty
millions are made annually of Its
brunches. Excellent brooms are made
of Ita twigs, aa many a boy can tell,
having often figured In wbat has been
called "a bad quarter of an hour." In
deed, does not "to birch" mean "to
chastise?"
Taxation In Ionlon.
The way tbe London tax rates have
increased In the last century Is Illus
trated by these figures: Warren Hast
ings, while bis trial was going on, lived
In the house at the corner of Park lane
and Oxford street, now known ns !
Park lane. Warren Hastings bought
tbe bouse from Iord Ba tenia n for 4i.
000 and aulMiequently sold It to Lord
Rosehery. great-grandfather of the Inie
premier, for $M.24.1. In 1797 Warren
Hastings paid "duty on windows, com
mutation tax, duty on houses, servants,
horses and carriages at 10 per cent..
1225: land lax. KM; parochial rates for
St. George's, Hanover aqunre, 1201. 2r,;
parochial rates for Marylebone, IX.10;
total, IA24.35. The present owner of
the house la Murray Smith, a partner
In Messrs. Hiultb, Elder Co., and lie
baa Informed Sir Charles Lawson that
he pays: Parochial ratea. $1,2Hl.fl0; In
habited houae duty, 1248 75; Income tax.
llNG.r; total, $1,714.03.
It Is a very wis woman who knows
bar own husband at a masquerade ball
SHALL WE TAKE
1 KJfjt .,vl . -," VtmJLsT7i
("Coin st School In Finsnoe" by Georgs B- Boberts.)
Alarmed Passenger on tbe United State (to the pilot, Coin): "Aren't yoa
taking us into a frightful abyss?"
Coin: "Don't be alarmed. There ia just ai good boating below as above. "
A NATURAL RATIO.
Is There Ob IWtwecD the Talus of Sllvsr
ud Oold?-lf So, la It 10 to I?
Mr. J. J. Mott, chairman of the na
tional committee, of tbe free silver party,
recently organized at Washington, in
flict on a much abased public a long
appeal for votes for ftee coinage. This
latest official utterance of the silver) tea
is Dot much wori-e than their former
wails over the terrible suffering caused
by an imaginary scarcity of cart wheel
dollars, and is only notable in that it
boldly asserts that gold and silver exist
in the earth in almost certain fixed pro
portions, and that the natural ratio be
tween the two metals is therefore 16 to
1. "This ratio," sayu Mr. Mott, "has
continued aa arranged by man under the
natural order as he found it" It was
aooeptad by mankind as a part cjf the
grand plan npon which the world was
to move, and approved by the philosophy
and common sense of all ages.
If it were true that when tbe earth
waa created tbe amonnt of silver found
in it was 16 times greater than the gold,
this would be no reason w hy one metal
should be worth 16 times as mnch aa
the other. Tbe labor oust -of producing
anything aud the demand for it is what
regulates its valui. There is no natural
measure of values, and do fixed ratio be
tween two metals or any other products,
so that there is no ground for the claim
that tbe value of an onnoe of gold was
designed by nature to be tbe same as
that of 16 ounces of silver.
Mr. Mott must have been using the
newly discovered X ray to peer into tbe
Innermost deptba of tbe earth, if he
really knows that gold and silver exist
in "almost certain proportions." It is
a pity that be doe not infoim tbe publio
Just where all those bidden metals are
and how many tons there are of each.
Perhaps ba is waiting nntil oongress
passes a free coinage law, when ba will
uncover the masse of silver which be
knows so much about And perhaps,
great and wise aa a chairman of a silver
party most be, be doesn't know any
thing more about tbe metals in tbe earth
than be does of tbe currency question.
"Tbe grand plan npon which the
world was to move" seems to have got
badly out of joint in these days. If a
natural law can be sat aside by worldly
minded business man, who say that as
the commercial value of silver is 80
times less than that of gold tbey will
give no mors for it, natcrs must feel
lighted. But there is a bare possibility
that STee Mr. Mott hasn't been told all
of the world's plans for moving.
Aa for tbs "philosophy and common
seaas of all ages," it is a little curious
that in soma of the ages silver waa val
ued at eight to one of gold. If the yield
of tbe Sooth African, Australian and
American gold mines should prove to be
aa large as is confidently predicted by
eminent geologists and mining engi
neers, tbe ratio might again drop to
those figures. Would the "philosophers,"
of whom Mr. Mott is evidently one, stick
to the magic 16 to 1, or would they
adopt tbe commercial ratio, whatever it
might ba?
Tbe silver party may get a few votes
in November, but ita following will cer
tainly not ba increased because of tbe
practical wisdom and arguments of its
national chairman.
Bvtls Msis rrteas.
But tb quantity of gold and silver In
tbe national coins corresponding with a
given ram oaonot ba made lass than
beretofar without disturbing tbs bal
ance of Intrinsic value and making ev
ery aor as? land aa wall aa every bushel
of whea of actaal lass worth than in
time past A geaoral revolution in prices.
at nominally and ia anpoar-
aoald not fail to distract tbs Ideas
of ton ouniBi unity aad would ha apt to
read dianontaat aa wall among those
who live on tbe Inoesaa of tnair money
aa axaonf poorer claim of the people,
to whoia the nirmarlas of lifa would
nam to have baisme dearer.
Aasoag the evils attendant on such an
operation arc these: Creditors both of
tha pajblM aad of individuals would loan
a part of their propartp. Public and
private debt would receive a wound.
Taa effootlv reveaoe of tha govarn
sasat would ha dimtaiahed. Thar la
soataaly aay point in tha aooaoaay of
antinl affairs af greater atomaat than
tha aatfcna praaanaUanof tha latrlaaJa
varna af tha moasy salt On this tha
security aad steady vain of property
aamtially depend Alexander Basall-
Want Cease Oat la tha Open.
If tha free ilvrits ar no ooafldant
that laap ropraaaat tha people, why do
Ihty Mba tha iana aad eim to ha W
atalUsaj? Whattaaaad far ia tha
(rat aad aalimitad mtotiJk af si War at
la to I. Why aoa't they rtaad by thair
aosanr AUaata JaaraaL
THE PLUNGE f
Th "Psrltr" lMlaslon.
Four years bro silverites. Democrats
or Republicans, joined with the feoldite
of their renpoctive parties in accepting
declarations in fuvor of "legislation
which shall iusore the maintenance of
tbe parity of the two metals." Tbe quo
tation if found in btlj D-mocratio and
' Republican national platforms. This
' will-o'-tbe-wip of a promise worked,"
1 even on the broad stage of national poli
tics, but it cannot be expected to work
, again. Hilverite and goldites. Demo
crats or Republican!, have shown that
tbey are equally tired of further jug
gling with the subject, and tbe next
time each party will insist that the truth
as to its beliefs and intentions shall be
squarely told.
' The hollowness of these promises of
legislation to put gold and silver on a
parity has been proved by the complete
failure of either party to attempt it.
Since the promulgation of the national
platforms of 1 b93 the silver men's
scheme for free coinage, or silver mono
' metal lism, has been the single legisla
tive proposition put forward anywhere,
aud with free silver coinage not a dol
lar in guld would circulate ou a par with
silver.
The gold men, who believe in main
taining tbe gold standard of our cur
rency and in saying so, have offered and
will offer no legislation whatever to in
sure or to create a parity between gold
and silver other than the makeshift
parity existing, under which nearly
$600,000,000 of silver are maintained on
, a parity with gold. None the less they t
offer n rtiange, from what we have, of
priceless vslue. They offer the prosperity
which spriugi from a sure aud stable
monetary standard, the indispensable
foundation of industrial confidence and
enterprise. They constitute tbe over
, whelming majority of the people of the
1 United States, and if either the Denio
' cratio or the Republican party fails to
' pronounce their sentiment in its plat
form this summer it will be despised for
a coward and beaten for its folly. New
York bun.
Why Do Asrthlng For Mlverf
"The government must do something
for our silver" is an expression beard
even among those who are opposed to
free coinage at 16 to 1. But tbey give
no reasons why the government should
. be called on to favor a particular metal
Why should the men who are engaged
' in digging silver have any more claim
I to public aid than the men w ho dig clay
, for bricks? One product of labor is just
as useful aa the other, or if there is any
difference it is in favor of tbe bricks.
Yet we never bear of an agitation to get
the government to help the brickmakara.
Tbe value of the eggs produced anno
, ally in this country is fir greater than
: that of all the silver rained. But any
( one who would propose that a bounty
bould be given to tbe owners of hens
I would be laughed at Why should a
scheme for giving bounties to the own
I era of silver mines be more seriously
I considered? Is it because the Utter con
tribute funds to keep a lot of cheap
money spoolers in tbe political arena?
Chairman Barmy Os-lnln.
As is prcoably pretty well known, I
am ia favor of sound money and opposed
to tha free, unlimited aud independent
coinage of silver aa proposed by the free
silver people. Furthermore, I believe
that those who favor sound money will
oonstitnta a majority of tha next Demo
cratic national oonvutiou. To make tha
majority decisive, however, it will ha
aeoaaaary for the friend of sound money
to go to work. It will not do to lot mat
tan drift aud to let that issoe take earn
of itself. They ought to ba prepared to
discus tha matter intelligently and ia
good temper with those who acid oon
flieting or opposite views. It ia a ques
tion that Is to be reasoned out MothiBaT
will ha gained by making face at thosa
woo oiansr wita ua. i do not fear a b
from oar oonvuntion, and thara will
no (tenner of it if wise coanaals shall
prrrali-Wilbam F. Harrity.Cbasrman
National Democratic Ciamlttac.
"" asst aovw m o.i 41.
Manse,
Il will pay laborer aad farmer who
ara favorably I noli and toward (no eoin
H o tady tha reason for tha alHano
bntwnaa tha free silver poop I of tha
watt and certain xaaaafaatarati af tha
aat One of tha reason mentioned by
tha maaajactaran i that oar mtmttm
tunn cannot, with present prtoM far
labor aad raw malaria), com pat sue
oamfullp with frt silver aouatrta. Fat
lata plain Kngluh, waga and price, of
raw meUriaU-largaly fttm prodaoto
-ara bigbar ia th gold thaa IntaaalU
m standard oountrtat. It will ba to
th advaataga of oar fim.
thwafora, if thi mmmkSUtnmt
llvarbama. Sappoalnf Z2k2Z
aat la tra. whatdo wratavanZ
ad faratan aat
