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
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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.**
