What was this thing of white and goid
Originally meant to hold?
'TIs piled so high with sundry things.
With slippers, cards and corset strings,
Its primal use is quite forgot
In such a miscellaneous lot.
No letter doth It hold, nor sonnet.
Not e'en a poem; but here’s a bonnet,
A bonbon dish, some cigarettes,
A bunch of wilted violets,
A garter buckle and a shoe.
An actor's photograph or two,
Some books—ah. yes—but none Indeed A Gibson girl and—what? Amen!
Her chaperon would have her read— I find down here at last—a pen!
A broken fan, a euchre tally. Do you suppose—Oh, thought grotesque!
A picture of an opera ballet. This la my lady's "writing" desk?
—New York Times.
An Indian’s Gratitude
Sam Augustus was of the Algonquin
tribe, a typical Indian of these days of
reservations—lazy, shiftless and ad
dicted to strong drink. As an Indian
he was more or less despised by the
white men with whom ho came in
contact, but was much too easy-going
to be disturbed by that. The possessor
of a small farm on Georgina Island,
he was so far true to the traditions of
his ancestors as to allow Mrs. Sam Au
gustus to earn his living for him,
which she cheerfully did, reaping har
vest in the summer time by weaving
baskets of sweet grass and reeds for
the holiday seekers who annually vis
ited Beaverton.
Beaverton was the most picturesque
spot on the shores of Lake Simcoe,
but Sam Augustus, on the occasions
of his periodical visits to the main
land, never stopped to contemplate its
various points of interest. There f as
but one attraction in the place for
him, and that, it must bo confessed
with shame, was the barroom of the
Alexandra house.
Sam's visits to Beaverton, or, to be
more exact, to the Alexandra house,
usually terminated in his crawling in
to the loft of the hotel stable, there
to sleep ofT the effects of the potent
Are water he had imbibed. But on a
Saturday night in June he enjoyed a
novel experience.
Paul Wilson had come to the mill
that day with a load of grain and had
converted the grain not into flour, but
into greasy bits of paper which ho
deemed far more useful. Then, as he
was consumed with a great thirst, and,
moreover, had the wherewithal to
slake it, he naturally turned his team
toward the Alexandra house. Matters
following in logical sequence, Paul
Wilson developed ere night into a
drunken bully, with Sam Augustus the
especial object of his hectoring. Sam,
indeed, was in a fair way to get the
beating of his life when Ed Daleton
interfered.
Daleton interfered to such an ex
tent that Paul was escorted to the vil
lage hospital, while Sam Augustus,
ready by that timo to consent to any
proposal, acceded to Daleton'a request
to go home with him and in the morn
ing join the haymakers on the Daleton
estate.
An hour later found Sam tucked in
to the most comfortable bed he had
ever known. Ere morning came, how
ever, the bed was empty. The Indian
had already repented his rash promise
to go to work. Still, ho took away*
nothing but himself and his dirty
clothes, whereupon Daleton argued, lie
must have felt at least half way grate
ful.
The summer days passed away and
the autumn shadows lengthened into
the blackness of winter, but Sam Au
gustus had not once appeared at the
Alexandra house since that night in
June. Whatever conjectures the
habitues of the place might have haz
arded concerning his absence were
driven out of mind, however, by a
IB—PW——mm—— ■■
| -^T \
Cautiously He Crept Over the Snow.
series of occurrences which gave the
villagers ample reason for not only
much gossip, but also much alarm.
Thieves made their presence felt ir
that Sleepy Hollow of Canada. One
burglary followed another in rapid
succession. In everi' case the cracks
men went about their work in a way
that proved they were no novices.
Of all this Sam Augustus was in
profound ignorance. He and Mrs. Sam
were now the only inhabitants of Geor
gina island, the half dozen other In
dians who comprised the normal pop
ulation being away with some wild
west show. For many moons Sam had
remained at home with his wife, fight
ing manfully against his lust for drink,
but at last a day came when Sam de
cided that he must yield or die. So
with the setting sun he strapped on
his skates and started over the ice to
Beaverton.
He w as passing a little cove on that
side of the island farthest from his
He Was Skating Actosg the Lake as
He Had Never Skated Before.
home when he noticed what looked
uncommonly like a boat’s said flap
ping in the wind. This impressed
Sam as being a bit out of the ordi
nary for midwinter, but what gave him
a distinct shock was seeing a light in
a log cabin that to his knowledge had
been unoccupied for years.
There was enough of his ancestors’
blood in his veins to make him wary,
and he conjectured, not without rea
son, that whoever was in the old cabin
had no right to be there. So he stoop
ed down, unfastened his skates, and
slung them around his neck, and, swift
as a deer, ran to the shore of the
cove. Cautiously he crept over the
snow until he stood behind the cabin
and looked in through a window.
Seated at a little table were two
men, both keen-visaged, both well
dressed and both youthful. Overhead
hung a dirty lantern. On the table
between them was spread out a sheet
of white paper, which they were ex
amining with great interest.
“This,” Sam heard one say, pointing
to a mark on the paper, "is the veran
da entrance I was telling you about.
It leads straight into the old man’s
room, and they say he generally has
a tidy sum around. Farther along hero
is a window to one of the guest cham
bers, and we may pick up a sparkle or
two in that room, for a big house party
is on at Simcoe Lodge just now, and
the wealthy Mrs. Vineland is one of
the guests. Then we’ll back to our
iceboat and be under cover again be
fore they knew we’ve paid ’em a
visit.”
Sam opened those little eyes of his
wider. He was not overgifted v/ith an
active brain, but the reference to Sim
coe Lodge had sharpened his intellect,
for Simcoe Lodge was the home of
Ed Daleton, and had not Ed Dale
ton- Well. Sam Augustus drew
closer to the cabin window.
Sam waited to hoar no more. The
men were thieves, and they intended
robbing the home of the only white
man who had ever befriended him.
Oh, lazy, shiftless Sam Augustus, why
do you hurry so?
For he was skating across the lake
as he had never skated before. Twenty
miles stretched between him and that
part of the mainland where Simcoe
Lodge stood, and he must be fleet in
deed to arrive before the boat.
On, on through the night he raced.
In his face blew the first gusts of a
i storm, but he plunged through the
cnystal flaked, his sinewy legs fairly
flying over the level surface. Now he
could see lights twinkling In the dis
tance, and his Indian instinct told him
they were from a farmhouse not far
from the Daleton estate. Not a light
could be seen from Simcoc Lodge It
self. for a huge row of flr trees, wind
breakers, screened the house from the
lake blasts.
Sam swung along buoyantly. The
next moment a hissing, whistling Bound
came to his oars, and he saw a flash
of white glide past him, to be swal
lowed up in the darkness.
It was the boat. They would beat
him yet. He dug his skates into the
Ice despairingly and hurled himself
forward. But In a minute or two he
became hopeful again. It was yet too
early for the burglars to begin work.
Ho could easily arrive In time to warn
the household.
Not pausing to seek the gate Into
the Daleton grounds, he leaped the
high fence that paralleled the-flr trees
only to alight upon a human body.
Next moment he was grasped by no
tender hands.
"Here, what’s this?” he heard a
voice exclaim. "Turn yer glim on.
Rats. Here’s a nice kind o’ a party
that comes tumblin' onto a man with
out so much as a beg pardin.”
Sam Augustus writhed desperately,
but another pair of brawny hands
seized him, and he was helpless, yet
he kept up the struggle, and as he
fought, shouted with all the strength
of his red man’s lungs:
"Thieves! ”
“Blast It, stop that!" commanded
the voice. “Ye won’t, eh? Then"—
There was a click and a report. Sam
gave a groan and staggered back.
Spud let him slip to the ground.
‘I thought I'd stop ye,” he muttered.
“Say, Rats, I”—
Something bright flashed through
the night. The Indian had risen to his
knees. Spud fell, with the toe of a
sKate in is brain.
“Thieves!" shouted Sam.
ft • * * m
In a yard of the old Free kirk at
Beaverton is a plain white shaft with
this inscription:
: "SAM AUGUSTUS, :
: The Indian Who :
; Remembered.” :
—Montreal Family Herald.
A Little One's Love.
Suns and stars In the heavens above.
But a life that longs for a little one's
love:
A little one's love In the far away—
The sweetest rose in the red o' May!
She Is climbing up to kiss me—
Her lips smile tnere,
And I'm rich in the wealth
Of the gold of her hair!
Song o' the robin and moan o' the dove—
I am weary to-night for u little one's
love;
To see in her dear eyes God’s tenderest
light.
And fold hack her tresses, and kiss her
"Good-night!"
8he is climbing to kiss me—
How shines the dream there!—
And 1m kissing the curls
Of her beautiful hair!
And the wide world Is weary, and ever
I seem
To move like a shadow that drifts
through a dream;
And earth will not unswer— nor heaven
above.
When I cry in the dark for a little one’s
love!
She Is climbing to kiss me,
Still radiant there.
And in dreams I am kissing
Her beautiful hair.
—Frank I,. Stanton in Atlanta Consti
tution.
I
Seeing a Ghost.
When you think you see a ghost
how can you tell whether it reaiiy is
a ghost or not? A recent writer gives
the following scientific method: “We
assume that a person sees an appari
tion; it may be objective (i. e., hav
ing existence outside the observer's
mind), or merely a creature of a dis
ordered brain (subjective). The seer,
while looking at the vision with both
his eyes, gently depresses one eyeball
with his forefinger, from outside the
top eyelid (so causing a squint). If
objective (whether bogus or not) two
outlines of the ‘ghost’ will be seen;
but one (of course) If it be subjective.
One may prove this by trial, any time,
with any object, near or far. I men
tion this because of the many nervous
and brain-wearied people who see
spooks, and to whom it would be bet
ter that they should know that the
trouble is within themselves, and so
seek a capable doctor, than continue
to be haunted, as they believe, by tho
supernatural.”
Why Hewitt Did Not Retire.
The fact that some rich men, who
are amply aide to retire from busi
ness, remain in the harness simply be
cause they can’t get out was illus
trated in the continuous business ca
reer of Abram S. Hewitt.. “Why don't
you retire from active business?’’ he
was asked one day. This referred
more particularly to his iron Inter
ests. "I can’t get out,” he answered.
“At least, I can’t get out on term i
which 1 feel it would be honorable t i
accept. I had a chance some time ago
to sell out our Toronto works, but the
condition was that they should be
closed down permanently. This would
have thrown about 500 of our men out
of work; people who had been with us
for years, and many of whom bought
little homes in Trenton. I could not
accept such terms, so hero I am, with
the burden yet on my shoulders, and I
suppose death alone will relieve me of
it.”—Kausas City Journal.
The Tyrant Man Analyzed.
What is man? Man that is born of
] woman is small cabbages and few in
| a patch, in infancy he is full of colic,
i paregoric and catnip tea. and in old
age he is full of cuss words and rheu
I matism. ^
EXPORT DISCOUNTS
SELLiNG ABROAD CHEAPER THAN
AT HOME.
The Practice a Far More Common One
in Free-Trade Great Britain Than
Under a Protective Tariff in the
United States.
The practice of granting discounts
an goods sold for export is the basi3
for much of the agitation for reduction
of the tariff. For example, the soul of
Gov. Cummins boils with virtuous in
dignation at the contemplation of so
foul a crime as that which is Involved
in selling surplus products to foreign
ers at a lower price than that which
domestic consumers are required to
pay. The souls of Senator Dollivar,
Director of the Mint Roberts and other
watch dogs of the tariff boil similarly
and for a similar cause. They cannot
tolerate the thought of building up for
eign trade by such means, and they
propose to stop the thing by tearing
open the tariff schedules and introduc
ing what Gov. Cummins calls "poten
tial foreign competition.” Congress
man Tawney also exhibits some per
turbation at the thought that some
portion—about 1 per cent—of our do
mestic production finds it way to for
eign buyers at slightly cut prices, and
ne proposes a congressional commis
sion to inquire into the matter with a
view to arriving at some method—
tariff reduction, of course—whereby
American mills and factories will be
forced to shut down when the limit of
domestic consumption shall have been
reached. Incidental to this plan it is
proposed to lower the tariff bars so
that it will lie much easier for foreign
producers to work off their surplus on
the American market at cut prices and
thereby diminish American production,
employment ami wages. Great heads
these Republican reformers have.
The practice of price cutting to for
eign customers is universal, it ob
tains to a very limited extent in the
United States, where protection pros
perity has created a demand that ab
t sorbs all our industrial production as
fast as it can he turned out. It ob
tains much more in foreign countries.
All over Europe goods for export are
invoiced at lower prices than the pre
vailing market price for the same
goods at home. In this connection at
tention is called to the following ex
tract from a letter to an American
house, dated Sept. 12, 1902, from the
firm of Charles Cammell & Co., lim
ited. of Sheffield, England:
"In regard to reducing prices for
export business, this is done by us,
inasmuch as the prices we obtain from
home railways are sensibly higher
than from customers abroad."
Cammell & Co. sell steel rails. They
do business in a free trade country,
hence it cannot be a protective tariff
that enables them to obtain from home
railways prices that “are sensibly
higher” than the prices obtained from
"customers abroad." And yet we hear
of no parliamentary commission to ex
amine into the matter and report a
plan whereby the British iron producer
shall be compelled to stop his quest
for foreign trade by means of reduc
ing prices for export business. For
eign governments seem to think it a
good thing to market surplus products
abroad and thus maintain production
and wage paying at home. For exam
ple, the charters of a considerable
number of English railways require
that goods for export shall he carried
at a lower freight rate than goods for
home consumption. It is only In the
United States that “progressive” re
formers are to be found who would
not only stop the sale of surplus prod
ucts abroad, but would offer special
inducements to foreigners to dump
their surplus on the American mar
ket.
DEBSISM AND BAERISM.
Theee, Not the Tariff, Responsible for
the Coal Famine.
Nothing better delights the gentle
men who upset American prosperity
by free trade and "tariff reform” poli
tics winding up in the Wilson-Oor
inanism than any event which gives
them a chance to attack the tariff
under which American prosperity has
been unexampled. The bagatelle of
sixty-seven cents per ton tariff on coal
attracted no attention until Baerism
and Dcbsism in tlio coal regions had
buncoed American industry by more
than doubling the price of coal—a
result with which the tariff had abso
lutely no connection. Now that Con
gress with practical unanimity has
removed all duty from Welsh anthra
cite—though ’Us hardly more like
anthracite then Cleorges Creek coal,
the free traders raise a shout that
after all the present tariff is not con
secrated law.
The present tariff was not devised
to meet the crises of such anarchy in
capitalism and laborlsm as started last
June in the Pennsylvania anthracite
regions. And the suspension of ati
duty on coal for one year will do this
good at least—It will show that there
Is more than a dollar’s difference per
ton in favor of American coal, as com
pared either with Canadian or with
Welsh coal. Had the duty been $2
per ton, its removal would have been
more significant.
As matters now' stand, as sure as
coal goes back to its normal figures,
as It will very soon after snow steps
flying, we may hear the Coal trust
shouting for lower wages, on the plea
that the trust has to mine coal In
competition with the cheaper labor
of Nova Scotia and Wales! Then,
of course, more strikes and so on.
The fact is that the suspension of
the duty may be a good club to use
over "the independent operators,”
who now' are abusing their power as
competitor* of the Coal trust more
than the Coal trust Is abusing Its In
complete monopoly; but the remote
consequences might not prove to be
Just what free trailers covet, were the
duty permanently eliminated from
bituminous coals. Certainly the re
tention of the duty will probably
hasten that leeiproelty treaty with
Canada which the free traders want
to see, but whicii they would indefi
nitely postpone by putting on the free
list those American products which
cannot be made the basis of reciproc
ity unless dutiable. In other words,
the free traders would give away
the American market even though
Canada yet hold fast to her ‘‘Chinese
wall.”
The glee with which the free trad
ers welcome the coal crisis as a
means of upsetting the tariff, which
has contributed so highly to our pros
perity, shows how far political parti
sanship runs ahead of business inter
ests. To hold Baerism and Debslsm
to their responsibility, is now Roose
velt's and the Republican program.
The Democratic program is to divert
attention from Debslsm and Baerism
and accuse the tariff laws under
which we have harvested unexampled
prosperity. This might work well il
the folks had forgotten their troubles
from 1893 to 1897.—Lewiston (Me.)
Journal.
Wanted to Thaw It Out.
/riNKEa \
He Succeeded.
“Free” Coal a Delusion.
The action of Congress in putting
coal upon the free list for one year is
not likely to afford the relief to con
sumers in Eastern cities that was an
ticipated from the passage of that
bill. It is now said that the supply
of foreign coal that will be attracted
to the American market by the remis
sion of the duty will be infinitesimal,
compared with the demand, and when
the cost of transportation is added to
the foreign price, it will be impos
sible to sell this coal in New York or
Boston for much less than nine or ten
dollars a ton.
The Leader has not thought at any
time that the removal of the duty
from coal *vould be of any marked
benefit to the people in this country.
The fact of the matter is that, while
there was a nominal duty on anthra
cite coal, it was not a protective duty
in any sense, for the reason that, duty
or no duty, there could he no serious
competitions between Welsh coal and
that mined in Pennsylvania in any of
the markets of this country. That
was proved last fall, when prices run
ning as high as twenty-five dollars
a ton failed to attract any consider
able shipments of Welsh coal to this
market.
The coal trust has not been foster
ed by protection. It haB grown up as
the result of a monopoly of the pro
duction and transportation of coal,
and no possible foreign competition
could have prevented it. But the
people thought the Pennsylvania
operators were given an advantage in
the tariff to which they were not en
titled, and Congress satisfied the
popular demand by repealing the tar
iff for one year. It will have litle or
no effect.—Cleveland Leader.
i __
And Yet.
The number of sheep in the United
States lias increased twenty millions
since the repeal of the Wilson tariff.
And yet, according to the Democratic
prophets, the protection coal which
our industrial engine is now using is
sending it straight to the devil with
the brakes off and throttle wide open.
Head us. somebody! Police!—Mora
vian Falls (N. C.) Yellow Jacket.
Evident.
It is more evident every day that
American interests, whether in raw
material or manufactured goods, must
stand together or fall together. It is
more evident every day that American
interests must read reciprocity laws
with a ?reat deal of care to avoid be
ing cheated in the transaction.—Des
Moines Capital.
IN THE “OLD SOUTH*’
WHITES PROUD OF FAITHFUL
DEVOTION OF SLAVES.
“Old Uncle” Joe Napier, Who Recently
Died at Chattanooga, One of ti>a
Best Examples of the Race—Intelli
gent and Progressive.
An "ex-Confederate veteran” writes
to the Chattanooga (Tenn.) Times as
follows of the death of "a man who
was a faithful slave and a 'driver’:
“ ‘Old Uncle' Joe Napier died at his
home in Napier's addition in St. Elmo
recently. He left a widow, Mrs. Car
rie Nopier, and two stepchildren, Mrs.
Idell Mess, wife of Frank Moss, and
Miss Lula Brown, surviving him. His
last words were: 'Thank God, I see
the light now.'
‘ He was the slave of Leroy Napier,
and the 'driver' on Mr. Napier’s plan
tation In Walker county, Georgia, for
many years before the civil war, had
the confidence of his master, of his
master’s family, of the white and col
ored people who knew him, and they
all respected him. He was a very large
man, over six feet high and weighed
over 200 pounds. Owners of large
plantations employed a white man as
overseer and appointed one of their
negro men as a ’driver,’ whose respon
sibilities and duties were second in
importance only to the overseer. The
overseer gave his orders to a driver,’
who had immediate charge of the
other negroes and carried out the or
ders given him by the overseer. These
'drivers’ were selected because of
their intelligence, the confidence of
their owners in them and as a class
were of the very highest type of ne
groes. The success of a plantation
was dependent to a very great meas
ure on the ‘driver.’
“When Capt. Nathan Napier, son of
Leroy Napier, married, Leroy Napier
gave 'Old Uncle Joe’ to his son, who
became the 'driver' on Capt. Napier’s
plantation until the close of the civil
war.
"After the close of the civil war
old Joe came to Chattanooga, bought
a tract of land in St. Elmo, and laid
off Napier’s addition to St. Elmo. This
is the first addition laid off in Chatta
nooga or vicinity by a negro. He was
a very religious man and belonged to
the E Street Colored Methodist church
of this city.
“None save those who resided in
the South before the civil war can
realize the relations between the slave
and his owner. This old man, in hla
last moments, asked that his former
mistress, Mrs. Julia Napier, widow of
Capt. Nathan Napier of Lafayette, Ga.,
be notified of his death and to ask her,
or some of her children, to attend his
funeral.
"The brain which qualified him to
be a 'driver’ qualified him to buy the
'land and lay out the first ‘addition’
laid out by a negro around Chatta
nooga. He died of old age, about 90
years.
"When the war called his master and
every male white man in the family
and the overseer into the Confederate
army the white women of the family
were intrusted to ‘Uncle Joe,’ who, at
the head of the plantation, took care
of them. When the federal army came
near, ’Uncle Joe’ moved the other
negroes and the farm stock to places
of safety until the close of the war.
Then he entered into his new life with
the same faithful zeal and intelligence
that had made him a good ‘driver.’
"The ‘old South’ never will or can
forget the faithful devotion of this
class of slaves during the civil war.
Peace to the ashes of ’Old Uncle Joe’!”
REVENGE AS A FINE ART.
How Natives of India Get Even With
Their Enemies.
Senator Tillman, at the end of the
first part of his anti trust speech in
the senate on Jan. 14 told to a number
of reporters an odd travelers’ yarn.
“Speaking of queer revenges,” he
said—he had been discussing the ways
in which the people might get even
with the trusts—“I remember how,
according to a friend of mine, the na
tives of certain villages in India treat
their enemies. They get a few hand
fuls of rice, and sprinkle it on the
roofs of the people they hate. Then
what do you think happens? Why,
the monkeys come nocking down from
all the trees onto the roof after the
rice. They eat all there Is on the
surface and then to get at the stray
grains that have lodged in the cran*
nies they begin to pull the shingles off.
Wherever there is a grain to be seen
far down in some crack or other they
pull the roof up 10 get at it, and final
ly—lo! and behold!—there is no roof
left—the monkeys have torn it all
away. Then the man who spread the
rice laughs subtly, for he has had his
revenge, and yet no one knows, and he
cannot be punished.”
A Natural Question.
The small boy, accompanied by his
father, was looking at the display In
the window of a big store on Broad
way, where all manner of wearing
were on exhibition. In one corner
was a great rack decorated with a
brilliant collection of socks and bear
ing the sign:
"Half hose, half a dollar."
The small boy studied it for a full
minute; then he called his father’s at
tention to it.
"Say, pop,” he inquired, “if half hose
are half a dollar, are whole hose a
whole dollar?"
“I suppose so,” laughed the father,
though he well knew that the boy’s
mother had a pair In silk that he had
paid $4.98 for, and which she insisted
she had obtained at a bargain because
they were marked down from $5.—
New York Times.