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About The Loup City northwestern. (Loup City, Neb.) 189?-1917 | View Entire Issue (May 30, 1907)
World TouRf ^Siam’s King Cut to see the world. The king of Siam by easy stages is going to girdle the earth, and whether the potentate of this little Asiatic kingdom is actu ated by a spirit of adventure and longing for s.tme new sight and sensa tion, or is moved by a deep purpose to know the world better that he may govern his principality more wisely is an open question, bet one thing is cer tain, and that is he is having a royal ly good time and is making the most cf his opportunities wherever he goes. Paris has just extended the glad hand to him, and is geing to help him have a good time as only the Paris ians can do. Xo doubt kingly honors and distinction will be showered upon him, but it is not just what he is after, according to persons who are cl.re to his majesty and who say that he specially desires to remain as much incognito as possible, as he wants to do much sight seeing and on the quiet "have the time cf his life." And after Paris is covered from center to circumference, London and other Europena cities are on his list, after which it is likely that he will come to America and cross to the Pa cific coast, where he will embark for the voyage back to his own land and his place at Eankok. There is no sovereign in the world who is accustomed to receive more abject homage than his majesty of Siam. He possesses a most imposing string of titles. Among other things he is supreme arbiter of the ebb and flow of the tides, brother of the moon, half brother of the sun and owuer of four and twenty golden umbrellas. Whenever he takes an airing in his own domain his faithful subjects pros trate themselves as he passes by, no matter how muddj the streets may happen to be. Even the highest in the land when they approach his august presence must do so on all fours. His favorite wives have to kneel before him. His brothers do likewise. So King Chulalongkorn is not likely to be much impressed by a crowd that keeps on Its legs before him and shouts and waves hats and handker chiefs at him. He won’t bob his head until his neck aches as European kings r.re expected to do when they show themselves to tt» public. As King or biam, Chulalongkorn has a much easier billet than the occupants of European thrones. He is invested with powers as autocratic as those of the czar of Russia, but his is a pa ternal despotism which is not tem peivjd by assassination. Siamese folk don't throw bombs, and none of them have yet reached that stage of en lightenment in which monarchs are regarded as costly superfluities. Chulalongkorn is not required to lead the strenuous life. He can take things as easy as he pleases. His in come is something like $10,000,000 a year. His gorgeous royal palace at Bangkok is a walled and battlemented city within a city. Behind the line of not very warlike sentries who guard its massive gates is contained treas ure far in excess of the loot obtained by th«v, greatest feat of robbery com mitted in modern times—the sacking of the summer palace of Peking in 18C0. It is really a double palace—an outer and an inner palace. Into the latter no European of the male ses has ever penetrated. It contains about 4,000 ■women and one man. And that man is the king. The Siamese call the place Kang Nai ("The In side,") and so sacred is it held that etiquette forbids any open allusion to it. The most extraordinary feature of the Kang Nai is the submerged harem, situated in an artificial lake. It is built entirely of glass of varie gated colors, the plates being joined together by an insoluble cement. It is ornamented with quaint turrets and minarets. When not in use, it; floats on the surface of the lake. When the king desires to take his ease witlii# it, accompanied by his harem favorite*, he enters the single door, which, when closed, is air and watertight. At a signal certain valves are opened and the house of glass descends to the bottom of the lake. The arrange ments for supplying fresh air are per fect. In the hot summer weather it affords a deliciously cool retreat, and there Chulalongkorn is accustomed to while many idle hours away, rejoic ing doubtless that fate did not sum mon him to reign over a progressive and civilized people. That famous saying of Shakespeare’s; “Uneasy lies tbe head that wears a crown," does not apply to him. In accordance with eastern custom he is a much married man. He has a score or two of official wives, and no body knows just how many hundreds of what might be termed courtesy wives, though in Solomon’s time they i were known by another name. How far contact with western civ ilization has modified Chulalongkorn’s religious views nobody knows, but nominally, at least, he adheres to the state religion, which is a decadent form of Buddhism on which many su perstitions have been grafted. The huge palace is girdled by a holy rope which has been blessed by the priests and is, therefore, suppoosed to form an effective barrier against the fiend ish host whose special prey is roy alty and Its multitudinous offspring. It is the Siamese custom to scare de mons by demons, somewhat on the principle of setting a thief to catch a thief. The demons employed are huge and hideous effigies. The priests wanted Chulalongkorn, when he ascended the throne, to permit the erection of twc of these monstrosities outside the palace gates. But they compromised on the holy rope. Op poosite the palace, on the western bank of the river, stands a temple known as Wat Chang, or the “Temple of Dawn,” which the king attends for public worship. The wardens t.re two gigantic stone figures, male and fe male, wearing nightmare masks. And the king, skeptical though he may be as to their efficacy, deems it prudent to make an obeissance when he passes between them. He has visited England once before. That was in 1897. He wasn’t feeling particularly comfortable at that time, for France was threatening to gobble up the biggest portion of his kingdom, and he didn't show himself much in public. It was supposed then that the chief purpose of his visit was to get England to block the Franch game. On that occasion he paid a visit to the queen at Windsor Castle. SAVED BY CLEAN HANDS. Instance of Quick Wit of Famous. War Correspondent. Freedrick Villiers’ “Peaceful Person alities and Warriors Bold" contains a striking and somewhat bloody tale of the terrible days of the Paris com mune. An unnamed Englishman tells the storj of himself and Archibald Forbes, the great war correspondent: ‘ There was a good deal of fighting in the streets at the time, for the Ver sailles troops were pressing hard upon the communists. One afternoon, in a street not far from where we are sit ting. I was rounded up by a party of rebels and made to work erecting a barricade, when I found another Eng lishman pressed for the same busi ness; it was Forbes, the war corre spondent. We chummed together at our distasteful wprk, which we were compelled to do or risk being shot for spies. "Presently the barricade was at tacked by the Varsaiflists, and the communists, after a sharp fight, were driven helter-skelter down the street Forbes and 1 ran with them. Pres ently he shouted: ‘Dive into that wine shop on the left!’ I immediately did | so and Forbes, catching hold of me, I pushed me through the shop to a back yard, where we found a pump. ‘Now,’ said he, ‘wash your hands quickly and let me have a turn.’ After our ablu tions he hurried me back into the street. That simple incident cf wash ing my hands saved my life and I al ways remember it with gratitude. “We had hardly gained the street before we were roughly arrested by the victorious troops, who would not listen to any explanation, and were hurried along with many other pris oners till we came to halt was where a a made blank wall, About a dozen of us ^ere made to stand in a backs to oried the line with our ‘Hands up!’ charge. “The poor devils who the wall. 'officer in had hands were told to remain. soiled Forbes and I were the only men who were Al lowed to fall out, for our hands showed no signs of barricade work or soil of powder upon them, realized what had happened were riddled with bullets. ghaBtly sight” MAN WHO BROKE UP THE MOLLY MAGUIRE GANG Eventful Career of James McParlan. Well Called Greatest of Detectives. Thirty-Four Years After His Wonder ful Achievement in Pennsylvania, He Is the Center of Interest for His Work That Was Responsible for the Present Sensational Trials at Boise, Idaho—Lived for Years Among the “Mollies,” Where His Life Literally “Hung by a Thread.” Philadelphia.—While there is but slight resemblance between the horri ble crimes committed in the mining re gions of Idaho and Colorado and the bloodcurdling deeds perpetrated in the mining regions of Pennsylvania a gen eration ago, there is this extraordinary link betwen them, that the same man was instrumental in procuring^ the most important evidence for the gov ernment in both cases. James McParlan, easily the greatest of living detectives, did more than any other one man to break up that terri ble organization known as the Molly Maguires. James McParlan, 34 years later, drew from Harry Orchard in the Idaho penitentiary a “confession” of more awful crimes than the Mollies ever dared to contemplate. Membership in the Mollies was not confined to miners. There were saloon keepers, tradespeople, artisans, office holders and men of no occupation in the organization. By whom it was started, and for what purpose, have re mained secrets. Its motto was “Friendship, Unity and True Christian Charity,” and the meetings of the lodges and of the county conventions were opened with prayer. Then, after prayer, the business of making plans for assassination would be taken up. It was not, however, until in the early 60s that murders became fre quent. Some boss of a mine, some ob noxious policeman who had clubbed a drunken Molly, some miner who had incurred some displeasure of a mem ber of the order, or some citizen who had spoken of it disrespectfully would be either beaten within an inch of his life, or murdered occasionally. But the crimes were sporadic. During the civil war they increased rapidly in number, and by 1S71 there was a reign of terror in the whole anthracite re gion, extending over five counties. During that year and the year follow ing there were 4S murders and in numerable assaults and crimes against property. McParlan Becomes a Molly. Gradually the enmity of the Mollies was directed toward the mine owners and the railroad corporations. One boss after another, who had made him self unpopular with the miners, was murdered. Mines were blown up or filled with water. Railroad property was burned or destroyed. Finally President Gowan, of the Philadelphia & Reading Coal and Iron company, seeing that the city and state authori ties were powerless, determined to call on the Pinkertons for aid. They sent McParlan to the scene. That was in 1873, when McParlan was 29 years old. McParlan came from the Pinker tons’ Chicago office. He was born in Ireland, had come to this country when a young man and had had con siderable experience with the world. Short and slightly built, but muscular, of fair complexion, with dark hair, broad forehead and gray eyes and wearing glasses, he presented a gen tlemanly appearance. He had been coachman, policeman, clerk in a liquoj store and had finally gone into busi ness for himself. The* Chicago fire wiped him out. Then he went to work for the Pinkertons. Following his instructions to learn all he could about the Mollies, McPar lan went to Pottsvi lie, Pa. He changed his name to McKenna. He got ac quainted with everybody. He was looking for work in the mines. He could sing a good song, dance a jig, pass a rough joke, be polite and at tentive to the girls, drink his share of whisky and pay for it, and was always ready for a row or shindy of any kind. He got a job in a mine. He insisted on working in his best clothes. Soon his coat was thrown aside, then his vest, and finally his shirt. He per spired and suffered under the unwont ed toil. He soon learned, however, that it was not as the skillful miner or as the industrious laborer that admis sion to or influence in the Mollies war. to be obtained. So he gave that up and cajoled a half-drunken saloonkeeper into divulg ing some of the secrets of the organi zation. He got a few of the signs and passwords. With these he was enabled to palm himself off as a Molly, saying i that be had been a member of the or ganization elsewhere, and had bees obliged to leave the place on account of a crime he had committed. This raised him in the esteem of the Mol lies and he was admitted to full mem bership and to their confidence. He had, however, to be initiated over again, because members of one lodge or division could not be admitted to the deliberations of otSer lodges or divisions. Prominent in the Order. To attain his ends McParlan found that he would have to out-Molly the Mollies. He intensified the character he had first assumed. He became a loud brawler. - He boasted of having committed all crimes, from petty lar ceny to murder. He was ready to drink, sing, dance, court a girl or fight. He pretended sympathy with the perpetrators of a crime after its commission, which he had been unable to prevent and the full details of which he was anxious to discover. He be came secretary of his division. At meetings of the order he was the loud est talker and the biggest Molly of them all. But he never asked a man to join the order, and he never by word or deed suggested or encouraged a crime. Circumstances compelled him to drink a great deal of bad whisky. He became sick in consequence. His hair fell out. He lost his eyebrows. His eyesight became impaired. He looked like a freak with his green spectacles, bald pate, rough shirt and old linen coat swaggering through the streets. No one suspected Jim McKenna, or dreamed that he was at work night face. Outraged citizens had formed vigilance committees to retaliate on the Mollies. McParlan was known as an active leader of the organization, and his life was in danger, not only from the Mollies, but also from other citizens. “The Air Is Polluted.” Finally, suspected by the Mollies, hated and feared by respectable citi zens who did not know his real char acter, and half sick from the strain of the work, he begged to be relieved. ‘I am sick and tired of this work,” he wrote in one of his reports. “I hear of murder and bloodshed in all direc tions. The air is polluted. I can’t stand it much longer.” Indeed, he would surely have been killed if he had remained, for the feeling was strong against him. So, toward the end of 1875 he returned to Philadel phia and was warmly welcomed by the Pinkertons. In the following spring came the trials of about 50 men accused of mur der or of complicity in murder. In the course of his opening for the govern ment the district attorney startled the audience in the courtroom by announ cing that among ' the witnesses who would be offered by the state was a man who for years had lived in the county, had associated with the Mol lies, had been a member of the order, was familiar with its crimes and was prepared to identify the murderers. This witness was known to the peo ple of the coal regions as James Me .MKCyjyfABEtay rSiazncro Tsnr iva&ar u Lsar j. ^ET-«W2CK*ap Wiow^nr Azsvr ri» xreuejrjrtro/ra rzrjr XDtrzm jkoecpa and day gathering evidence that was to bring to a close the awful reign of terror. Every night his reports went to the Pinkerton office in Philadelphia. That is the strangest part of the whole strange experience. He was in con stant communication with his employ ers, and for more than two years he was never once suspected of being a detective. He warned many men who were doomed to death by the Mollies He attended all the meetings of his division. He kept on the best of terms with everybody. Suspected at Last. Whenever he was detailed by the Mollies to commit some crime or to participate in the commission he al ways found some plausible excuse. But events moved swiftly. The evidence which he was furnishing gradually tightened the coils around the Mollies. One arrest followed another. And by and by it became apparent that some one was giving to the government all the secrets of the organization. One morning all the signs and passwords of the Mollies were published in every newspaper. Then there was no doubt that they had a traitor among them. Suspicion fell upon McParlan. He had accidentally dropped a letter on i the street. The Mollies accused him j of treachery. He became indignant I and brazened it out. He persuaded i them that he was a terribly, abused j man. They begged his forgiveness, j At least they all did except two of his ! brother officers in the order. The evi- j dence against McParlan was top j strong to be doubted. So they deter- j mined to kill him, not the nexi week, j or the next day, but right off. But McParlan gave them the slip, escaping only by the skin of his teeth. Sixteen men lay in wait to murder him, but he was warned just in the nick of time. Still he kept at his work, although he had another enemy to Kenna, but his real name was James McParlan, and he was a detective, said the district attorney. When McParlan was called to the witness stand the au dience could scarcely believe that the quiet, gentlemanly, yet cool and reso lute detective was the wild and reck less Jim McKenna they had known. Eleven Mollies Hanged. McParlan was on the stand four days. He told his story simply and amazed every one by his revelations. The most searching cross-examina tion failed to find a flaw in his testi mony. When he told the story of his being suspected of being a de tective, intense silence prevailed in the court room. For the first time the prisoners manifested uneasiness. There were many Mollies present, and they listened with blanched cheeks to the recital. At the close of the trials Pres Gow an paid a fine tribute to McParlan. After warning the public that if there was another murder in that county by that society there would be “an in quisition for blood with which noth ing that had been known in the an nals of criminal jurisprudence could compare,” he added: “And to whom are we indebted for the security we now have? To whom do we owe all this? Under the divine providence of God, to whom be all the honor and glory, we owe this safety to James McParlan, and if ever there was a man to whom the people of this county should erect a monument, it is James McParlan, the detective.” As a result of the trials 11 men were hanged, and about 40 others sent to state prison. That was a death blow to the Mollies. They have not been heard fram since then. And now, after a generation, McParlan is one of the central characters in the great drama, one of the scenes of which is being enacted in Idaho. DAN WAS A FINANCIER. Had Element* That Make a Monarch of the “Street.” Dan Lee, colored, who styles him self “janitah to de mayah,” is a wor ried African. Last December, a week or two before Christmas, Dan was in need of fnnds. Of course, he had a place to eat, a place to sleep and plenty good clotheB to wear, but he didn’t have much Christmas money. For a while Dan didn’t know what to do. Dan, however, is not a man who gives up easily. He set his brain to work and soon thought out a plan whereby he might obtain a little extra money. One morning he came down to the city hall and announced that he would raffle his rifle. Nobody knew Dan had a rifle, and nobody areund the haU is sure of it yet But Dan as sured them that he was the possessor of one, and he set about the work of selling chances. He procured a lot of little envelopes and taking a hun dred slips of paper numbered from 1 to 100, he sealed them up. These he disposed of to his friends in the hall. They paid an amount for each chance equal to the number in the envelope drawn out of the bundle. Dan soon had a pocketful of money, and when Christmas morning came he was there with the real old loud “Mahry Chris’mus.” And it came, from his heart, too. Several weeks passed and there was no raffle. People around the hall who held chances began to wonder when the big event would come off. To all their queries Dan simply smiled and said: “Des wait, now.” Weeks more passed and still there was no raffle. Then a couple of chance holders grew impatient. "Look here, Dan,” said one. “How about that raffle?" Dan put on his happiest smile. “Des wait, now,” he replied. “Walt nothing,” said the other Im patient chance holder. “We want to know when you’re going to hold that raffle.” Dan grew serious. “Ah guess Ah bettah tell yo’,” he said. “Ah’s skee hed dey ain’t goin' ter be no raffle.” “Whr .!” came from the two chance holders. “Dat’s right," said Dan. “Well, then, we get our money back, eh?” said one of the white men. “Not ezzactly. Yo’ see, Ah done found out it ’ud be agin’ de law ter hoi’ dat raffle.” “Well, why don't we get our money back?” Dan smiled pleasantly again. “Cause Ah don*1 des know whah dat money am,” he said. Thfe two chance holders scowled. "You get that money for us,” one of them said. Dan’s face grew solemn and his voice assumed a pleading tone. “Now look a-heah, gentlemens,” he said. “Yo’se is only out ’bout 25 er 50 cents each—mebbe np to a dollah each. If Ah gives dat money back to all yo’se gentlemens Ah's goin’ ter be out mo’ dap fifty dollahs. Yo’ wouldn’t make a pc ah old niggah lose mo’ dan fifty dollahs to’ a poah measly fifty cents er theherbouts each, would yo?” Dan’s argument won. The two chance holders went away laughing. Financially the raffle still remains a grand success for Dan.—New Or leans Picayune. HOME TRADE FABLE HOW THE TRANSFORMATION OF A TOWN WAS EFFECTED. A STORY WITH A MORAL One Pufc*ic Spirited Citizen Who Realized the Bic| Possibilities and Cultivated the FielcPto Ad vantage. Once upon a time there was a Man, who in his youth was reared upon a farm located near a Small Town of Great Promise. Two weeks in each year when he was not sawing wood, feeding the stock or picking potatoes, he was allowed to attend the little red schoolhouse in the town. By hard la bor during the day, and persistently reading a few old books which were heirlooms in his family, and each week absorbing the intelligence contained in the Weekly Mirror, he, by the time he could mark down his age at 18 years, had accumulated sufficient knowledge to run away from home. He wandered to a large city and there his great muscular power assisted to gain for himself a position as Chief Scrubber in a large store. He had not acquired the cigarette habit, and his faithfulness to his scrubbing brush, and his unwillingness to know all about his employer's business, soon at tracted the attention of the Old Man, and at the end o::‘ a year he was pro moted to Head Rustler in the shipping department at the large salary of eight dollars a week. His disregard for scooting when the closing time came, and his total lack of swelled head so pleased the Old Man that from time to time the ambi tious youth was advanced until at the end of six years he was drawing the biggest salary paid by the house, and He erected a large brick building, and soon he had installed in it great stocks of goods. Other merchants in the town shook their heads. The Public Spirited Man was certainly crazy. Farmers when they came to town looked up the big building with won der. The Weekly Mirror had to send away for type to set up the page ad vertisement for the new store, and to get a new press for the printing of cir culars and posters. One month after the opening of the store the graveyard quietness of the town had passed away. Streets were lined with the teams and the wagons of the farmers. A new elevator for grain had been started. The railroad placed a new switch in the yard to ac commodate the increased business. The son of the old town blacksmith reopened the old shop closed for years because of no trade. New life was rapidly being injected into the place. There was an election. A lot of newcomers selected the Public Spir ited Citizen for chairman of the town board. He was elected. In six months the streets were paved, an electric lighting plant was in operation, along with a water works. The Great Store keeper had a war of doing things, and ue aia mem. news oi me activity ui the town reached near-by villages, and* the people came to see the Big Store and to buy goods. A cold storage plant in connection with a new com mission house operated by friends of the Storepeeker, caused Farmers to bring in tons of butter and hundreds cf thousands of eggs, and chickens and other produce. The transforma tion was quick from a Dead Town to a Lively Small City. A high school was established, new churches built, and some of the pious people were shocked to see an opera house erect ed. The Pan-Handle & Skedunk rail road, which for years had been run ning 20 miles from the town so changed its route as to have it on the main line, so the place had two rail roads. Enterprising men who wanted H Bis The advertising magnate will draw trade to the stores of our community just as the advertising of the catalogue houses is now drawing it away from the home store. The people are interested in the store news of this town. Will you not give it to them? soon he was taken in as a member of the firm. Age and hard knocks and brushes with the business world de veloped in him marked business acu men. He forged to the front as a financier and a public-spirited citizen. As years passed he prospered. Early and late he was ever looking after his vast. business interests. There were times that he longed to be again in the small home town. Often in his youth he dreamed of some day being chairman of the village board. Only once since parting from the old home had he returned, and then to find the town just the same only a little more delapidated, and in the weed-over grown kirkyard the neglected graves of his good parents. Strenuous business life and assid ious attention to the accumulation of capital without vacation, caused him to suffer from what the doctors pro nounced neurasthenia, and advised total rest from mental effort. The man had labored too diligently in amass ing money. Residence in a quiet place was recommended and retirement from all commercial worries. The Great Merchant sold his vast interests to a combine, and after careful thought, concluded that he would seek rest and a renewal of health in the town where he at one time attended the little red schoolhouse, and where in childish im agination he would be powerful and famous by becoming chairman of the . village board. Accordingly he retired from the city, purchased the old home stead where he was reared and picked ' potatoes, and also built a residence and became a Great Factor in the town. Time had made few changes in the landscape. Buildings and streets were the same, only showing the rav ages of decay. The old stores were in possession of the descendants of the owners who conducted them when he • was a boy. They were not doing the business that they should. One great innovation was the town had a rail road. All about was suggestive of peace. It was an ideal place for a man who desired to pass his declining days in contemplation of the here after. There, life was much like unto death. There was fresh air in abund ance. All of nature lavishly spent its beauty over the country and the town, and even the weeds on the streets were allowed to spring up, bloom and reach maturity without interruption by the scythe or the side. Within a year the Retired Business Man had regained much of his old time spirit and health. Habits of ac tivity and love of business impelled him to once again seek work that would keep his mind occupied. He loved the old town. He saw that it needed new life. He figured out that there were 60C> farmers in the neigh borhood. Each fanner surely spent $50 a month somewhere for supplies. This meant a total of $30,000 a month; $360,000 a year. Then the few hun dred people in the town would add other thousands to the volume of busi ness. Why not build a gnat store and supply the waists of the people? He would spend some money and build up the town. He bought half a block on whlsh three of the stores stood. to locate in a Live Town turned their eyes toward the place. Soon there was smoke from a half dozen big fac tories, and in five years after the Pub lic-spirited Citizen had started his store his old home town has increased its population 1,000 per cent. It was no longer printed in little type on the maps, but in capital letters. MORAL—Do not underestimate the possibilities of your community, or fail to develop them. No city was ever made great by its people buying goods elsewhere. D. M. CARR. GOLD IS NOT GOOD IN CHINA. What Money Is Depends Upon the Locality, Says a Traveler. “It is hard to define just what money is,” said Representative Julius Kahn, of San Francisco, recently: “At best, it seems to be a relative term— that is, what passes for money in one part of the world is regarded with sus picion at some other place. “Gold is supposed to be the one cir culating medium that passes current a everywhere, but it is not true. In the far east, for instance, the natives posit lively refuse to take anything but silver. Gold is not money to them and in Washington or New York or any of the cities along; the Atlantic coast when I hand a man a ten dollar or $20 gold piece to change he looks upon me with suspicion. He almost says in so many words that he would rather not have it. But let me hand out a worn and dirty bill and he ac cepts it without looking at it. “Out in California bills are still more or -less of a curiosity and conse quently the people are not accus tomed to them. Go into a bank in San Francisco and tender a $50 bill for change. The chances are that the president of the bank and the entire staff of officials would be called Into consultation as to its genuineness and I doubt if there is a store in the town where a bill would be accepted and changed offhand. We are all creatures of habit and custom rules the world after all. “The silver coins in circulation in China,” Mr. Kahn continued, “are ob jects of curiosity to foreigners. In China the coinage of money is let to private parties and the amount of sil ver in a coin de|>ends largely on the personal honesty of the man in charge of the particular mint. On this ac count each coin as it passes around in circulation has to be stamped with the initials of the merchant last having it in his possession. The last man stamping the coin is held responsible for any shortage in weight in the coin. The result is that the coins from repeated stampings, resemble small saucers and each one fits into the other when stacked up in a pile. I Imagine that they might be useful for picnic purposes, but they are cer tainly inconvenient to carry around, as anyone can bear witness who has traveled through the flowery king dom.**