Harrison press-journal. (Harrison, Nebraska) 1899-1905, January 21, 1904, Image 5

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    AITCSS THE
favored
1fce MMI7 asasic of toe dance ouutreaned
L'jwt the air.
Act the street it aeemed ao far away.
That Joyeua world, feoua mj unhappy sphere, V
Made ap Of wearjr tnU. day after day,
Aud year by year.
I taraed m from my window, with a aiirn.
TVw mak' life's differences. O God, mt wide."
I towid not ooiMiuer that ungrateful cry,
Tho bard I tried.
the street, neit
Death's fri" insignia from the door was bunf.
I beard the passers-by, low-voiced, repeat,
"So fair, ao jouag."
Arroes toe street ah, surely 'twas uot ao,
That tbey were mourning who last night were gay.
That yonder mansion wan a houe of woe,
Where death held sway?
Across the street, beside a siugle light,
A cheerless company a ad watch kept.
And she, the bomsged one of yesternight.
Forever slept.
Journal.
r?tll Ht r t't I't'l' I HtltttW
; JOHN ALDEN'S INSURANCE J
4 4 4 I' t 1 1 tA444444M
JOSIAH RKYNOLDS was a
sUld, respectable man. whose
life bad l--n uneventful and
monotonous; he was what one might
rail iu average man. He had obtained,
when fourteen years of age, h position
a errand boy lu a retail dry goods
store. From this store no ambition
luid ever tempted Uiui; there be bad re-liinltii-d,
and in bis methodical way bad
plodded step, by step, higher and bibb
er, till be bad bs-ome head salesman
tit u alry of fifteen dollars a week.
JoMiiib. st the age of twenty-live,
hud married. He loved bis wife In bis
mill way; and then, as lie always
Miiil. "It I 10 much ilii-uiT to live"'
I'cmr Josiah discovered his mistake by
tlie time be was the fniher of eight
children; and often in bin despondent
Innods lunged f.r the time when lie, 11
b;ipy bachelor, bud lived In hii attic
mid Uiinil how and when be pleased
Rut Josiah was a thoroughly honest
malt, and after these retrospective and
lecpoinloiil musings redoubh-d his ex
ertion to solve the problem bow to
1'iiy rent, clothe his family, and settle
the thousand mid one little bills con
tiiiunily intruding themselves all on
Mt'-'U dollars 11 week. I'.ut, to bis
I te.Ut be It said, his family was pro
lid.t! for well; the children were
M;.m:;!y If cheaply clad; the Wife al
ly .us locked neat, nor did they suffer
lor friod. true, they had few amuse-
-mjfy-r ctn.t, and poor Joslah
fli 11 felt ashamed of hi threadbare
oat. for ho would rather go shab
by himself than be ashamed of his
w Ife and children.
In tiila manlier Josiah lived uutll his
f i-i -i;itli year; then he received a
ri'-': t surprise. Hi" employer bud each
w ;n grown more feeble, and left more
II nd moie the charge of tbo store to
.iu ii.li. .Mj'iv men undiT such cir
iii .wuiines would have demanded
it: or pay, but not ho Joslah; it seemed
ml) natural to him that he should
vHe his lxHt endeavors to his em
ploye!, who, however, made no cora
uieut upon hi assistant's faithful
work: but Joslnh wan content with
the thought of duty properly per
(oiUii'd. i 'h the morning of the first of March,
losi.ih's birthday, he fame to the store
tit In usual hour, but his pecdy coat
lore cimu its lapel a little bunch of
hotlio'.iw flowers, bin natal gift from
bis wife and children. lie went to
Ids work liKht henrtedly on this par
t;. tiinr iimnittiK- It was bin nature to
l.e liuppy, nud only an occasional
: r;o)iiiy spell over Borne unusual ex-j-etiJe
broke his generally unruffled
vu';iity. This month)?, however, he
Wni ptitticuhiriy happy. When he bad
wmtrd himself fur bin breakfast of por
ridge nud iiioIilsiiii ho hud found at
lr1 ti!ate a bunch of flowers, which his
wife, nmldat the Joyful wishes of her
Hiildren, hud pinned upon his coat,
innuje an it may seem, this matter-of-fact
man had it passionate fondness
for Cowers, rarely Kti!icd; but to-day,
h he starteil to bis work., the remem
brance of his happy home and the odor
-if the (lowers stimulated hlin to a
of unusual Joy.
When his employer arrived Joslah
Kreptcd him with 11 pleasant smile, but
noticed regretfully how weak he
swiited,
"Ah!" he thought, "what a sorrow
ful life for poor Mr. Alden, all alone
.at this fiRe! I would not change places
with Itlm, I am sure. What Is money
vwlthout hnpplness?"
; "Jtmlali," Id Mr. Alden, "I have
xtmth!u8 to any to you."
"Yes, sir," answered Joslnh, sur
prtspxl at the Impressive tone of his
HMHter's volc).
. "Jo!ab," said Mr. Alden. "you have
been with me ever since you were a
boy; 1 have watched the unfolding of
your character, and I know you to be
n trnly honorable and reliable man. 1
linve not been niimlnnnil of your faith
fill services, nor am I Indisposed to
rewtit'd them. I am getting old; I am
now cltiity four years of age, and.
In the ordinary course of events, I
.cannot live much longer. Klnce my
intir Hon died I have Ix-cn entirely
alone, In the world. Wlmt I want to
say Is this: I wish to give you full
rhnrjie of the stow; I will tnke yon
Into putnershlp, and u can have
one half of the profits. All I nsk Is
that yon take me Into your family, for
STREET.
the brixbt lirhu flawed and
ouci mere rrhrrf thr
night, across the street.
I am weary of living alone. When I
die 1 (hull leave you all I possess, in
cluding an Insurance on my life of
twenty thousand dollars. 1 oe that
suit you?"
Mr. Alden, who knewiis clerk well,
was not surprised that be did not
speak; it was, indis'd, and he knew it,
u most Hilurlng prospect. Joslah was
so stunned that he could not speak
coherently. Through his mind rushed
a picture of his past life; how he had
always pinched and calculated to make
both ends ni'-et ; the continual whirl
ationt money, which hud become so
much of a second nature that he
Siiiire!) noticed it, but which, in bis
retrospective glance, under the bright
Illumination of this magnificent offer,
weighed on his spirits like a pall.
What! Hi' an eipial partner in the
firm! lie an eipial sharer In t lie prolits!
He the heir of Mr. Alden! It seemed
incredible.
"Well, Josiiih, what say you?"
lie roused himself and said:
"I don't know what U say, the of
fer is ho unexpected and undeserved.
1 have never done more than my duty.
and why you should lie so generous
I do not know; really I do not know
what to say or do."
'There Is nothing you need say, Jo
siab, and but one thing to do allow
me to have rny own way. My decision
is uot a thing of the moment; I have
thought of It long and often. The store
does not puy very much about four
thousand dollars a year still It has
enabled me to lay up a snug fortune,
and to place ujKin my life an Insur
ance of twenty thousand dollars."
Joslah listened to the old man's talk
only with external application; he un
derstood what was said, but each word
conjured up a picture. At first his
mind did not wander beyond the year
ly Income of two thousand dollars; this
sum. In contrast with his beggarly
fifteen dollars a week, seemed Inex
haustible. He thought of the many
things he could do now. Maria, his
wife, should have a silk dress, and
should rest from the labor which had
been wearing her out. Martha, his
oldest daughter, should have the wish
of her life granted, and should study
music. Alfred should go to college;
the other children should have their
dresses when they grew up and he
oh, be would get a new coat!
With such roseate pictures did the
two thousand dollars lill his thoughts;
but when he allowed his mind to con
template the time when he should pos
sess Mr. Alden's entire fortune, it af
fected him as a llasii of lightning does
the eye.
"Well, Joslah," said Mr. Alden, "let
us go und have the partnership papers
drawn up; then, us it is your birth
day, you can take a holiday, some
thing you have not bad in many
years."
"Just as you say, sir," sahl Josiah,
meeily.
Soon the business was transacted,
Josiah signing all the papers In a
dazed manner, unconscious of their
contents. Then he hastened home, for
he was anxious to confide to some one
the Joy that tilled his heart: and to
whom more properly than to her who
had shared his privations and sorrows?
When he reached his abode, a dingy
house In an obscure back street, he
found bis wife working upan a pile of
shirts; this she had done for many
years to eke out their meager exist
ence. Joslah was not unused to the
sight, since he had witnessed It day
after day, but now he felt within his
soul an Impulse of Indignation that his
wife should be doing such work; so,
while his wife gazed In astonishment
at her llego lord, who never before In
all their married life had returned so
early from the store, ho stalked gran
diloquently to the pile of shirts, gath
ered them up aud cast them out of the
door.
"Joslnh Reynolds!" exclaimed the
amar-emcnt-atrlcken wife, "are you
crazy?"
"No, Maria, 1 am not, but I do feel
rather itrango here," said Joslah, tap
ping hla forehead, "but crazy or not,
you shall make no more shirts for
Wringer & Starchem."
"But, my dear, what shall we doT
I made three dollars a week out of
them; we can't get along without the
j money."
"Mrs. Hey molds" answered Joaiab.
wit a a air of dignit. "the wife of the
junior member of the firm of Alden k.
Reynolds does not need to make shirt
at three dollars a week."
Maria was ready to burst Into tears.
Never before had her dear Josiah
called her Mrs. Reynolds; moreover, he
frightened her with his strange actions
and incoherent talk, aud. with a wom
an's reasoning, she concluded he was
insane. Ko the tears that had been
gathering burst forth like a torrent, ac
companied by a storm of sobs.
"My dear Maria, what is the mat
ter?" exclaimed the now awakened
husband; "have 1 said or done any- 1
thing to offend you?" . j
"No," sobbed Maria, "only go gone
and go-got crazy!"
"Why, Maria, I am not crazy; what
do you mean by saying uo?"
"What do you mean by talking
about the tlrm of 'Alden & Reynold'
when you are only a clerk getting fif
teen dollars a week?"
This was more than Josiah could
stand. What! He, a partner in the
lirm, accused of Iteing a clerk at fifteen
dollars a week? It was an insult! In
a voice of indignation be said:
"Madam, I wish you to understand
that I am neither fool nor crazy. This
morning Mr. Alden tixik ine into part
nership; I hasten to tell you the good
news, and you accuse me of being In
sane; nice encouragement. Is It not?"
"Oh, Joslah, 1 am so glad!" said
"is It really and truly true?"
"Yes, it Is true; and, moreover. Mr.
Alden is coming to live with us, and
when he dies he will leave all his
wealth to me. Maria, we are rich! No
more pinching and contriving; we can
live like human beings, and the chil
dren can have a chance to be some
body." "Oh, Jo. slab, I am so glad!" said
Maria, and again the floodgate of tears
was opened; but this time the tears
were those of joy, and were soon dried
up under her sun of happiness.
"Now, Maria, as soon as the chil
dren come we will have a little ex
cursion and celebrate the birthday of
the junior member of the firm of Alden
& Reynolds."
In the bosom of his family, Josiah,
kind and benignant, celebrated the day
which opened to him and bis such de
lightful prospects.
Next morning Joslah went to his
work at the usual hour. The rest 0
the help congratulated him some hon
estly, some enviously but all sub
serviently, lie informed Mr. Allen
that he could not receive him till a
week had passed, for he was aUiut to
move Into a new house.
"You know, Mr. Alden." he said,
"It would not do for the firm to live
In such a neighborhood as that In
which I formerly lived."
"No, certainly not," assented Mr. Al
den. In a week everything was arranged.
Mr. Alden was installed with bis new
purtner In a fine house, nicely fur
nished. It was true Josiah was obliged
to run in debt for the furnishings, but
then the firm was good for it Mar
tha had her music teacher; Alfred was
sent to college; Maria was not allowed
to do much of any work, except to
oversee the girl; the children were
finely dressed, and everything went as
naturally as if the family had never
economized on fifteen dollars a week.
Mr. Aiden made his will, leaving his
entire wealth to Joslah: but despite
the kind care of Maria, he dally grew
weaker. lie never went to the store,
but Joslah, now always neatly dressed
aud with a bud on bis coat, kept the
business up to its usual stundard.
though he had ceased to work as he
was wont to do when a clerk.
ltuslness was very satisfactory; the
life Just suited Josiah; he felt himself
expand and broaden; It pleased him to
be called Mr. Reynolds by those who
formerly called him Joslnh or even
plain Reynolds. It gratified him to
say to a good customer: "My partner,
Mr. Alden, is not well; he is staying at
my house;" or to say to a customer
from out of town: "We dine at six;
will you honor us?"
For three months all was rose-colored
then the bills began to come in
the quarter's rent, bills from the
house furnisher's, Alfred's college ex
penses, tailors', grocers', butchers' and
a thousand und one other bills poured
In like an avalanche, till the poor man
was nearly distracted, and found it
even hinder to make both cuds meet
(ban when working for fifteen dollars
a week. Pride ,v .Id not allow him
to recede from his position, and by
hook and by crook he managed to
make things come out nearly right;
but was obliged to borrow a few hun
dreds from a friendly broker, who
knew the circumstances of Alden's
will, and who readily took Josiah's
note.
Months went on thus, outwardly
pleasant to all, but Joslah found him
self steadily getting into debt lo the
friendly broker on whom he had to call
to keep up his credit and appearance.
"It Is only for a short time," he ar
gued. "Mr. Alden cannot live much
longer, then I will have the whole
store and all his money."
Thus Joslah went on, calculating on
the death of his benefactor, till from
calculating he grew to thinking.
"What is the good of his living? He
Is of no use to himself or others, hud
only stands In the way of my advance
ment. Well, ho cannot last much
longer, for he grows weaker day by
day."
This was Indeed true; Mr. Alden
was tumble to leave his room; he had
no particular ailment, seeming to suc
cumb merely to old age.
A year had passed and Joslnh owed
the broker about one thousand dollars.
When he lion owed his last Installment
his friend said:
"How long do you think old Alden
will last?"
"I do not know. lie la now eighty-
five years of age, snd certainly shoulo
uot last very much longer."
"I do uot know aliout that." wild
the broker. "I was talking with a lif
insurance agent a few days ago, am'
be said that ai-ording to the mortality
tables of the insuram-e company a man
of eighty five years could expect to
live fur five years."
"What groaned Josiah. "do you
think Mr. Alden will live to be nine
ty r
"According to the table he can.""
said the broker, producing a series of
tables compiled by one 1'. K. Chase
Josiah looked eagerly at the Ixxik. Yes.
there it was:
"Expectancy of Ufe eighty-live
years 5.1S years."
"So Mr. Alden will live to lie nine
ty." he said, looking blankly at the
broker.
"So it seems," said bis friend, calm
ly lighting a cigar.
"And w hat am I to do, run into debt
all this time. Will you wait and still
furnish me with money?" and Josiah
wetted his lips anxiously.
"I will wait." said the broker, "but
you will have to pay me a larger rate
of Interest."
"Anything at all," eagerly resMiinhil
Joslah. "I cannot go back now, but,
oh, I wish this suspense were over!
Why will be not die and leave his
money where It will do some good?"
Josiah went home gloomy and
thoughtful ; he did not notice the many
respectful salutations he received; his
mind was tilled with but one Idea; one
thought Intrudi-d Itself and rang in his
ears with monotonous insistence nine
ty years, ninety years. When be
reached his home he savagely repulsed
the children who came to him with a
recently learned timidity; snarled at
his wife, and hastened to his room.
This manner had become habitual
with him and had caused Maria many
tears, as her mind reverted to the
time when they were happy and con
tented on fifteen, dollars a week, lu
the privacy of his own room Joslah
gazed once more at the insurance ta
ble. The figures stared at him:
"Expectancy of Life eighty five
years 5. IS years."
"Yes. he will live to lie over ninety,"
he said, bitterly, dancing down the
column, his eye fell upon the figure
ninety, with a cry of anguish: he read:
"K.vpectancy of Life ninety years
4.1i! years."
"(ireat heavens!" he exclaimed,
"then he will not die till he Is ninety
four." As If directed by an external
power, his eye followed down the col
umn of figures till lie reached ninety
four. There he read:
"Kxpectancy of Life ninety-four
years 3.40 years."
lie groaned aloud. Feverishly he
once more scanned the column.
"He will be ninety-seven," he
moaned.
Once more the figures seared them
selves upon his brain.
"Expectancy of Ufe ninety-seven
years three years."
Joslah dropped the book, his face
blanched to the color of its leaves.
"I see it all now," he exclaimed. In
a hollow voice, "this man can never
die; I might continue this column on
indefinitely, but there would always
lie something left He shall always
live to mock me with the anticipation
of wealth I shall never obtain!"
Next morning the old man was
found dead In bed: strangled to death,
the coroner said. Joslah was arrested,
and In one of lucid Intervals, for ho
was undoubtedly insane, confessed the
crime.
He was confined in an Insane asy
lum, and the property left by Mr. Al
den was managed by Maria with the
same care she had displayed in the
management of fifteen dollars a week.
Waverley.
FEAR "Dl ABOtlCAL MACHINE."
March of Knllirhtenment Una Not Yet
Kenched Tarascon Diiitrict.
A story reputed to come from the
Tarascon district of France carries one
hack to nn experience of Ihe pioneer
telegraphers iu China. Near the large
Chinese towns the laying of the first
telegraph Hues went, on smoothly, and
even between distant villages the
work, while not by any means favored
by the inliabilants, met with no seri
ous opposition. I'.ut when the wind
began to play through the wires, and
the superstitious villagers heard in
the weird singing and moaning borne
on every liltle breeze what they
thought was the wailing protest of the
gods of their forefathers, whose eter
nal rest was being disturbed, they
chopped down the poles over miles of
the line in n single night, and the tel
egraph had to wait until the inarch of
en'ighlenment reached that part of the
country. That was tunny years ago,
but in point of intelligence the Taras
con native of to-dny does not appear
to have made much headway in the
meantime. As the story goes, n tele
phone service was to be established in
Ktienne des Ores, n Tarascon village.
Receivers, transmitters and batteries
complete were ready to start for the
village, when the expressman heard
that the Inhabitants, believing that the
Instruments were a machination of the
devil, were determined to prevent their
Introduction, and were arming them
selves with shovels and picks and mis
cellaneous farming Implements for a
resolute struggle Ihe man said he
was notedly willing to confide his
cart and its contents to the electrl
clans, but he w as not In the least dis
posed to risk his life In the fanatical
company that was awaiting him. A
wire to Marseilles for Instructions
brought hack the answer that the cart
was to be left at Tarascon. The se
quel has not transpired, but mean
while the good folks of Rt Etlenne
des Ores swear that they will hare
nothing to do with the "diabolical ma
chine" that carrlea a whisper from Ca
lais to Toulon.
f MMlMMtMtMl
f FAVORITES
H 1 1 14 tl I I I I ! H I I H I I
Die Wacht Am Rhein.
With thunder shout the air is rent.
Like roar of waves and sword clash
bleut.
Now, of the German Rhine so free.
Who will tbe river's guardian be?"
Chorns:
Thou. Fatherland, uiay'at tranquil he.
Thy faithful sons will watch o'er thee;
Steadfast and true each son, each sou
of thine.
Stauds sentry o'er our Rhine, our noble
Rhine!
The people hear that mighty cry,
Like lightning flashes ev'ry eye;
That laudtnark ev'ry heart will keep,
And watch unsleeping o'er the deep.
Thy tide reflects the heav'ns above.
And heroes gaze ou thee with love.
And proudly breathe a vow to thee.
Thou. Rhine, shalt ever German be.
So long as blood flows in each vein.
Or hands to draw the sword remain,
And while an arm is in the land,
No foe shall walk upon thy strand.
The waves re-echo back the cry.
The standards iu the breeze doth fly.
The Rhine, the German Rhine, so free.
Yes, we will all thy guardians be.
Mux Siiineckenbcrger.
If I Should Die To-night.
If I should die to-night
And you should come to my cold corpse
and sny.
Weeping and heart sick o'er my lifeless
clay
If I should die to-night:
And you should come in deepest grief
and woe
And say, "Here's that ten dollars that I
owe"
I might arise in my large white
cravat
And nay, "What's that?"
If I should die to-night
And you should come to my cold corpse
and kneel.
Clasping mv bier to show the grief jou
feel
I say, if I should die to-night
And you should conic to me, and there
and then
Just even hint 'hont pnyin' me that ten,
I might arise the while:
Rut I'd drop dead again.
lien King.
KING OF DIME NOVELISTS.
Kujcene T. Sawyer Keveala Secrets of
HpellbindinK Literature.
F.ugene T. Sawyer, "the king of
dime novels," Is at present city edi
tor of a newspaper In San Jose, Cal.,
and is a "genial, sadly smiling gentle
man," "the mildest mannered man that
ever scuttled a ship or cut a throat."
He has tracked and slain more vil
lians and rescued more heroines, wt
are told, than Dumas himself. "His
editions are not measured by thou
sands, but by carloads. He probably
holds the championship for story
writing, with upward of seventy-fivt-hooks
to his credit." Mr. Sawyer when
asked to outline his idea of the foun
dation of the dime novel replied:
"To a man whose life Is measured
by yards of ribbon or pounds of cheese,
or bounded by the four dingy wal.'s of
the counting-house a dime novel is a
revelation and a delight Most of my
readers are mere 'supers' on the stage
of life. They are not In themselves
picturesque. Nothing romantic ever
happens to them. For all these, hun
gry for something to take out of them
selves, the dime novel provides a thrill
per page, the only real mental stimu
lus they are capable of. The heroes
that -trut through the pages of the
'yellow back' are the only interesting
persons they ever hobnob with. No
wonder they love Nick Carter."
"I begin thinking with Ihe first word
set down, and not before. Of course,
I must begin with something that will
attract intercut. The old method ustsl
to ' e something like this:
1 Help! Help! Help! These words
rang out into the air on a cold No
vember night in a little town not
twenty mils from New Y'ork. Some
one was In dire need, but the whole
country seemed deserted.'
"And then immediately there was
a row of stars, after which the para
graph wont on:
" 'Twenty years ago Ephriam Gob
son was the most respected citizen in
New Potsdam, and Huldah, his sunny
halred daughter, was called the pret
tiest gill In the village, etc'
"Rut I fancy 1 revolutionized the
opening of the dime novel. Writers
of the magazines have learned bow
necessnry it is to begin the plot with
t Ho first word, and do it perhaps more
artistically, but1 it's the same principle.
For Instance In 'Ransom Arand.t, the
California Detective,' I start:
" 'We will have the money or you
shall die!
. "Or, iu another one I thought rath
er striking:
"'8 wear the defendant!'
"And in 'The Dead Man's Hand' the
opening line was this:
"it Is a case of mysterious disap
pearance, Mr. Carter.'
"Sometimes it is harder to get n
good opener than a good title, though
the title and the 'cover situation' are
what usually sill the book. That last
quotation Is from 'The Dead Man's
Hand; or, Nick Carter's Matchless
Method.' The main thle was suggest d
0 me by the pul 1 shits, who thought
it would sell well, and from that phrase
1 built up the whole book."
The "Nick Carier" s.ries brought
h Ir author about $50 per novel, each
00k running to about 25,000 words.
The "Log Cabin" novels were twice as
kmc and broogM 1100 aptac. M
Sawyer cenfeaaae that ta writer as
dime novels la never likely to beeaaH
rich, but be finds compensation in thii
branch of literature, nevertheless. H
eoncludw :
"I have always been a reader as we if
as a t iter f dime novels, though I d
not read only that class of HterUurt
by any n-eans. 1 have read them sine
I was a Iwy and still read them, now
peihajis frou curiosity and becaus ol
my knowledge of the technique of IhU
particular kind of fiction. It is. how
ever, only the i'Lmerged tenth' whs
hear cheap stories. I have been In tht
book shops and seen bankers and cap
italists gravely paying their nickels foi
the same tales their own elevator boyi
read. I have known literar men t
confess that they had read tales ai
bad as mine with interest and excite
ment "Such yarns are about as good a
remedy for brain fag as you could find.
They're easy and require little effort
of mind. You can read "The Pirate ol
tbe Caribees' when your nerves forbid
ethical discussi ins. ?
"They say that dime novel wrltert
are born, not made. It Isn't so easy ai -It
looks. Of course, I never made any
claims to literary quality and hav
never tried for 'style.' My books wen
frankly 'pot boih rs,' and I think I bav '
a sense of humor enough to know i
where they stand. Still, Louise Alcotf
did it once; I'm on a bad eminence
I know, but though my work was at
trashy, it never pandered to any de
praed tastes. For a dime novel yoi
require only three things a riotom
imagluat'on, a dramatic Instinct, and 1
right hand that never tire. I nevet
revised a line or crossed out a word,
But I doubt if every one could writt
that way offhand, as it were, and turj
out a story that a messenger boy oouH
no more have half done than a foi
terrier could stop in the pursuit of I
rat." Chicago Chronicle.
EFFECT OF PROSPERITY
Trnvelin fclmwg Could Not Fecais
Kimiieh Helpera to Handle Tent.
"A circus handicapped by prosperit
sounds like pipe talk, but that was tin
experience I had last summer," sait
Gejrge Rowies, who until two monthi
ago was press agent for the Barnun
i Kailcy circus and was in town o
Wednesday doing some advance worl
for a new star.
"All circus routes are based upon tht
prosperity of the different sections o
the country. A section in which cropi
are good and the banks are flourishing
gets the circus, but a section when
there has been a failure of crops or ot
big manufacturing enterprises- t
passed up by the. advance agent whi
maps the route. This is a good policj
and is followed by every circus of anj
size, but last summer for the first Una
in all my theatrical experience wt
were burdened by a surplus of prog
perlty.
"When the circus was In Washlna.
ton reports stated that our canvassmej
and laborers had gone on strike. Thee
reports were inaccurate, but they foi
lowed us wherever we went Th
truth of the matter was, our men d
serted upon their Individual Initiative
and not because of any concertet
movements to secure more money
a reduction in their working hours.
"Times were so prosperous that an;
man with a good pair of biceps eoub
not only get a job, but would hav
people bidding for his services ant
many employers who wanted good
husky boys overbid tbe circus,' whew
upon the canvassman, figurative!;
speaking, folded his individual ten
and silently stole away. These desei
tlons were so frequent that the circu
for about six weeks was constantly b
more or less trouble. We sent every
where for men. From the waterfron
in New Y'ork and other cities we go
sailors because they knew how to han
die ropes, but they were with us onlj
a short while, until some e.nterprisini
citizen with his own labor trouble,
would offer them fancy wages, the)
they would skip out and we woult
have to hunt again.
"The trouble was solved only when
for the first time In the history of th,
circus, Mr. Railey Imported a largi
force of Virginia negroes, who wen
greatly pleased with the exeitemen
and novelty of circus life. He trie
hard to avoid this move, but then
was too much doing, for white men, t
leave any other recourse." Washing
ton Times.
When Golf Was Taken Serlotisl
On September 9, 1037, Franc!
Rroune, son to John Rroune, wnbsta
In Banff, was convicted by the borroi
or justice court of the burgh of break
iiig '"to the buitlie of Patrick Shan)
and slealing therefrom "sume gol(
ballis," and the judges "ordainit thj
km Id Francis to be presentlie tackej
and carelt to t lie gallowshlll of thl
bitrghe, nud hanglt on the gallowi
thereof to the death, whereof WilHaq
Wat, dempster of the said assyb;
gaive doome." St. James' Gazette.
Her Statns.
"Why do you still call her a 'fin d
siecle girl'?"
"What's the matter with that?"
"Why, since that means literally, th
'end of the century girl, It was onlj
used in speaking of girls toward th
dose of the last century "
"Well, that's when she was a girl."
I'hllndelphia Lodger.
The Way of the Trsnnressor.
"Y'es, be fooled me completely. II
had such a smooth way with hlin."
"Which proves that the way of thj
trnnsgressor Is most successful wh
It's smooth." Philadelphia Ledger. '
At the age of 21 a man knowa a lo
more about women than he ever wl
at any subsequent stage of hla