• • The Mystery of a Silent l,ovc * *
" Chevalier WILLIAM LE
AUTHOR •fine CLOSED BOOK," ETC
ILLUSTRATIONS fy C D RHODES
COPr/UGHT BY THC SMART S£T PUBLISHfiG CO
w I w w
SYNOPSIS. i
—11—
Gord *n Gregg. dining aboard with Horn- ,
by. (he yacht Dola’s owner, accidentally |
a torn photograph of a young girl. |
Thai night the consul’s safe is robbed. :
The police find that Hornby is a fraud ]
and the Dola'a name a false one. In
fjttndon Gregg is trapped nearly to his j
Heath by a former servant. Olinto. Vistt
"»ig in Dumfries Gregg meets Muriel
l<eltheourt. Hornby appears and Muriel
introduces him as Martin Woodroffe, her
Tather's friend. Gregg sees a copy of the
torn photograph on the Dola ami finds
•hat Hie young girl is Muriel’s friend
Woodroffe disappears. Gregg discovers
body of a murdered woman in Ran
soch wood The body disappears and in
rts place is found the body of Olinto.
MnHoi and Gregg search Rannoch wood
together, and find the body of Armtda,
Otlnto’s wife. When the police go to the
wood the body has disappeared. In Don
jon Gregg meets Olinto. alive and well,
ftregg traces the young girl of the torn
■photograph, and finds that she is Elina
Heath, niece of Baron Oberg. who has
taken her to Abo. Finland, and that she
btdds a secret affecting Woodroffe. On
his return to Rannoch Gregg finds the
I./aithcourts fled from Hylton Ohater, who
had coiled there. He goes to Abo, and
frfter a tilt with the police chief, is con
ducted to Knjana, where he finds Elma,
imprisoned. A surgical operation has made
her deaf and dumb. He escapes with her.
CHAPTER XI—Continued.
The unfortunate girl whom I was
there to rescue drew back in fright
against the wall for a single second. ,
then, seeing that I had closed with the
hulking fellow, she sprang forward,
and with both hands seized the gun
wd attempted to wrest it from him.
His fingers had lost the trigger, and he
was trying to regain it to firo and so
raise the alarm. I saw this, and with
an old trick learned at Uppingham I
tripped him. so that he staggered and
nearly fell.
An oath escaped him. yet in that mo
a«ent Elma succeeded in twisting the
gun from his sinewy hands, which I
low held with a strength begotten of a
knowledge of my imminent peril. He
was huge and powerful, with a
strength far exceeding my own, yet 1
had been reckoned a good wrestler at
Uppingham, and now my knowledge of
that most ancient form of combat held
me in good stead. He shouted for help,
his deep, hoarse voice sounding along
the stone corridors.
As we were struggling desperately,
the English girl slipped past us with
the carbine in her hand, and with a
quick movement dragged open the
heavy door that gave exit to the lake.
1 heard a splash, and saw that Elma no
longer held the sentry’s weapon in
her hands. Then at the same moment
1 heard a voice outside cry in a low
tone: “Courage, excellency! Courage!
1 will come and help you.”
It was the faithful Finn, who had
»een awaiting me in the deep shadow,
and with a few strokes pulled his bo'-.e
up to the narrow rickety ledge o
the door.
“Take the lady!” I succeeded in
gasping in Russian. “Never mind
me.” and I saw to my satisfaction that
he guided Ehna to step into the boat,
which at that moment drifted past the
tittle platform.
1 struggled valiantly, but I was slow
iy being vanquished. Mine was a fight
for life. A sudden idea flashed across I
jny mind, and I continued to struggle, j
it the same time gradually forcing my
enemy backward towards the door. He
cursed and swore and shouted until,
with a sudden and almost superhuman
i-ffort, 1 tripped him, bringing his head
into violent contact with the stone
lintel of the door.
There was the sound of the crash
ing of wood as the rotten platform j
gave way, a loud splash, and he sank j
like a stone, for although I stood
watching for him to rise, I could only
Jistiuguish the woodwork floating
»way with the current.
As I stood there in horror at my
Jeed of self-defense, the place sudden
ly resounded with shouts of alarm, and
iu the tower above me the great old
rusty bell began to swing, ringing its
brazen note across the broad expanse
>f waters. Behind me in the passage
i saw a light and the glitter of arms.
A shot rang out. and a bullet whizzed
past me. Then I jumped, and nearly
apset the boat, but taking an oar I be
gan to row for life, and as we drew
away Trom those grim, black walls the
ire belched forth from three rifles.
Again the guards fired upon us, but
■m the darkness their aim was faulty.
Lights appeared in the high windows
sf the castle, and we could see that
the greatest commotion had been
.caused by the escape of the prisoner.
The men at the door in the tower were
liberating to the patrol boats, calling
them to row us down and capture us,
out by plying our oars rapidly we shot
straight across the lake until we got
under the deep shadows of the oppo
site shore. Out in the center of the
lake we could just distinguish a long
boat with three rowers going swiftly
towards the entrance to the river,
which we so desired to gain.
The guards were rowing rapidly, the
oars sounding in the rowlocks, evi
dently in the belief that we had made
for the river. But the Finlander had
apparently foreseen this, and for that
reason we were lying safe from obser
vation in the deep shadow of an over
hanging tree. A gray mist was slowly
rising from the water, and the Finn,
noticing it, hoped that it might favor
us.
"If we disembark we shall be com
pelled to make a detour of fully four
days in the forest, in order to pass
the marshes,” he pointed out in a low
whisper. “But if we can enter the
river we can go ashore anywhere and
get by foot to some place where the
lady can lie in hiding."
"What do you advise? We are en
tirely in your hands. The chief of po
lice told me he could trust you.”
“I think it will be best to risk it,”
he said in Russian after a brief pause.
“We will tie up the boat, and 1 will go
along the bank and see what the
guards are doing. You will remain
here, and I shall not be seen. The
rushes and undergrowth are higher
further along. But if there is danger
while I am absent get out and go
straight westward until you find the
marsh, then keep along its banks due
south,” and drawing up the boat to the
bank the shrewd, big-boned fellow dis
appeared into the dark undergrowth.
CHAPTER XII.
Rescued and Lost.
There were no signs yet of the break
of day. My ears were strained to
catch the dipping of an oar or a voice,
but beyond the lapping of the water
beneath the boat there was no other
sound I took the hand of the fair- j
With a Sudden and Almost Su
perhuman Effort I Tripped Him.
faced girl at my side and pressed it.
In return she pressed mine. It was
the only means by which we could ex
change confidences. She whom I had
sought through all those months sat
at my side, yet powerless to utter one
single word.
Suddenly I heard a stealthy foot
step approaching, and next moment a
low voice spoke which I recognized as
that of our friend, the Finn.
‘‘There is danger, excellency—a
grave danger!” he said in a low half
whisper. ‘ Three boats are in search
of us.”
And scarcely had he uttered those
words when there was a flash of a rifle
from the haze, a loud report, and a
bullet whizzed past just behind my
head.
“Quick, excellency! Fly! while
there is yet time!” gasped the Finn,
grasping my hand and half dragging
me from the boat, while I, in turn,
placed Elma upon the bank.
The three of us, heedless of the con
sequences, plunged forward into the
impenetrable darkness, just as our
fierce pursuers came alongside where
we had only a moment ago been seat
ed. They shouted wildly as they sprang
to land after us, but <?ur guide, who
had been born and bred in these for
ests, knew well how to travel in a
circle, and how to conceal himself. It
was a race for freedom—nay, for very
life.
So dark that we could see before us
hardly a foot, we were compelled to
place our hands in front of us to avoid
collision with the big tree trunks,
while ever and anon we found our
selves entangled in the mass of dead
creepers and vegetable parasites that
formed the dense undergrowth. Around
us on every side we heard the shouts
and curses of our pursuers, while
above the rest we heard an authorita
tive voice, evidently that of a sergeant
of the guard, cry:
"Shoot the man, but spare the wom
an! The colonel wants her back. Don’t
let her escape! We shall be well re
warded. So keep on, comrades! Mene
edemmaski!”
But the trembling girl beside me
heard nothing, and perhaps indeed it
was best that she could not hear.
It was an exciting chase in the dark
ness, as we gradually circled round
our prisoners, for we knew not into
what treacherous marsh we might fall.
Once we saw- afar through the trees
the light of a lantern held by a guard,
and already the sweet-faced girl be
side me seemed tired aud terribly fa
tigued.
At last, breathless, we halted to
listen. We were already in sight of
the gray mist where lay the silent lake
that held so many secrets. There was
not a sound. We crept along the wa
ter’s edge, until in the gray light we
could distinguish two empty boats—
that of the guards and our own. We
were again at the spot where we had
disembarked.
“Let us row to the head of the lake,
suggested the Finn. “We may then
land and escape them,” And a mo
ment later we were all three in the
guards’ boat, rowing with all our
might under the deep shadow of the
bank northward, in the opposite direc
tion to the town of Nystad. I think
we must have rowed several miles,
for ere we landed again, upon a low,
flat and barren shore, the first gray
streak of day was showing in the east.
Elma noticed it, and kept her great
brown eyes fixed upon it thoughtfully.
It was the dawn for her—the dawn of
a new life. Our eyes met; she smiled
at me, and then gazed again eastward,
with silent meaning.
Having landed, we drew the boat up
and concealed it in the undergrowth
so that the guards, on searching,
should not know the direction we had
taken, and then we went straight on
northward across the low-lying lands,
to where the forest 'Showed dark
against the morning gray. The mist
had now somewhat cleared, but to dis
cover a path in a forest forty miles
witle is a matter of considerable diffi
culty. and for hours we wandered on
and on, but alas! always in vain.
Faint and hungry, yet we still kept
courage. Fortunately we found a little
spring, and all three of us drank ea
gerly with our hands. But of food we
Usd nothing, save a small piece of
hard rye bread which the Finn had in
his pocket, the remains of his evening
meal, and this we gave to Elma, who,
half famished, ate it quickly.
How many miles we trudged I have
no idea. Elma’s torn shoe gave her
considerable trouble, and noticing her
limping, 1 induced her to sit down
while i took it off, hoping to be able
to mend it. but, having unlaced it, 1
saw that upon her stocking was a
large patch of congealed blood, where
her foot itself had also been cut. I
managed to beat the nails of the shoe
with a stone, so that its sole should
not be lost, and she readjusted it,
allowing me to lace it up for her and
smiling the while.
Forward we trudged, ever forward,
across that enormous forest where the
myriad tree trunks presented the same
dismal scene everywhere, a forest un
trodden save by wild, half-savage lum
bermen. My only fear was that we
should be compelled to spend another
night without shelter, and what its
effect might be upon the delicately
reared girl whose hand I held tenderly
in mine. Surely my position was a
strange one. Her terrible affliction
seemed to cause her to be entirely
dependent upon me.
Suddenly, just as the yellow sun
light overhead had begun to fade, the
flat-faced Finn, whose name he had
told me was Felix Estlander, cried
joyfully:
"Polushaite! Look, excellency! Ah!
The road at last!”
And as we glanced before us we
saw that his quick, well-trained eyes
had detected away in the twilight, at
some distance, a path traversing our
vista among the tree trunks.
Elma made a gesture of renewed
hope, and all three of us redoubled our
pace, expecting every moment to come
upon some log hut, the owner of which
would surely give us hospitality for
the night. But darkness came on
quickly, and yet we still pushed for
ward Poor Elma was limping, and I
knew that her injured foot was pain
ing her, even though she could tell me
nothing.
At last we saw before us a light
shining in a window, and five minutes
later Felix was knocking at the door,
and asking in Finnish the occupant
to give hospitality to a lady lost in the
forest.
We heard a low growl like a mut
tered imprecation within, and when
the door opened there stood* upon
the threshold a tall, bearded, muscu
lar old fellow in a dirty red shirt, with
a big revolver shining in his hand.
A Tall, Bearded. Muscular Old Fellow,
With a Big Revolver.
A quick glance at us satisfied him that
we were not thieves, and he invited us
in while Felix explained that we had
landed from the lake, and our boat
having drifted away we lind been com
pelled to take to the woods. The man
heard the Finn's picturesque story,
and then said something to me which
Felix translated into Russian.
“Your excellency is welcome to all
the poor fare he has. He gives up
his bed in the room yonder to the
lady, so that she may rest. He is
honored by your excellency’s pres
ence."
And while he was making this ex
planation the wood cutter stirred the
red embers whereon a big pot was
simmering, and sending forth an ap
petizing odor, and in five minutes we
were all three sitting down to a stew
of capercailzie, with a foaming light
beer as a fitting beverage.
After we had finished our meal I
asked the sturdy old fellow for a pen
cil. but the nearest thing lie possessed
was a stick of thick charcoal, and with
that it was surely difficult to commu
nicate with our fair companion. There
fore she rose, gave me her hand,
bowed smilingly, and then passed into
the inner room and closed the door,
while we threw ourselves wearily upon
the wooden benches and slept soundly.
Suddenly, however, at early dawn,
we were startled by a loud banging at
the door, the clattering of hoofs, and
authoritative shouts in Russian. The
old wood cutter sprang up. and, look
ing through a chink in the heavy shut
ters, turned to us with blanched face,
whispering breathlessly:
“The police! What can they want
of me?”
“Open!” shouted the horseman out
side. “Open in the name of his maj
esty!”
Felix made a dash for the door of
the inner room, where Elina had re
tired, but next second he reappeared,
gasping in Russian:
“Excellency! Why, the door is open'
the lady has gone!”
"Gone!” I cried, dismayed, rushing
into the little room, where I found the
truckle couch empty and the door lead
ing outside wide open. She had actu
ally disappeared!
Thp police again battered at the op
posite door, threatening loudly to
break it in if it were not opened at
once, whereupon the old wood cutter
drew the bolt and admitted them. Two
big. hulking fellows in heavy riding
coats and swords strode in, while two
others remained mounted outside, hold
ing the horses.
“Your names?” demanded one of the
fellows, glancing at us as we stood
together in expectation.
Our host told them his name, and
asked why they wished to enter.
“We are searching for a woman
who has escaped from Kajana,” was
the reply. “Have you seen any woman
here?"
“No,” responded the wood cutter.
“We never see any woman out in
these woods.”
"Who is your chief?” 1 inquired, as
a sudden thought occurred to me.
“Melnikoff, at Heln.igfors.”
“Then this is not in the dismal u
Abo?”
“No. But wiiat difference does i
make? Who are you?"
“Gordon Gregg, British subject,” J
replied.
“And you are the clrosky driver
from Abo,” remarked the fellow, turn
ing to Felix. “Exactly as I thought
You are the pair who bribed the nun
at Kajana, and succeeded in releasing
the Englishwoman. In the name o!
the czar, 1 arrest you!”
The old wood cutter turned pah
as death. We certainly were in grave
peril, for I foresaw the danger of fall
ing into the hands of Baron Oberg, the
Strangler of Finland. Yet we had a
satisfaction in knowing that, be the
! mystery what it might, Elma had
escaped.
“And on what charge, pray, do you
presume to arrest me?” 1 inquired ai
coolly as I could.
“For aiding a prisoner to escape.’
“Then I wish to say, first, that you
• have no power to arrest me; and, sec
| ondly, that if you wish me to give
j you satisfaction, I am perfectly wil
! ling to do so, providing you first ac
| company me down to Abo.”
“It is outside my district," growled
i the fellow, but I saw that his hesitancy
j was due to his uncertainty as to whc
I really might be.
“I desire you to take me to the
Chief of Police Boranski, who wil)
; make all the explanation necessary
i Until we have an interview with him
| I refuse to give any information con
j cerning myself,” I said.
; "But you have a passport?”
I I drew it from my pocket, saying:
J “It proves, I think that my name is
. what I have told you.”
The fellow, standing astride, read it
i and handed it back to me.
"Where is the woman?” he demand
i ed. “Tell me.”
"I don t know, was the reply.
! “Perhaps you will tell me,” he said
‘ turning to the old wood cutter w ith e
j sinister expression upon his face. “Re
1 member, these fugitives are found In
your house, and you aVe liable tf
arrest.”
“I don't know—indeed 1 don't!” pro
tested the old fellow, trembling be
neath the officer's threat. Like al
his class, he feared the police, aaC
held them in dread.
“Ah, you don’t remember, I sup
pose!” he smiled. “Well, perhaps
your memory will be refreshed by *
month or two in prison. You are al3t
arrested.”
“But, your excellency, I—”
"Enough!” blared the bristly officer
“You have given shelter to conspira
tors. You know the penalty in Fin
land for that, surely?”
“But these gentlemen ate sifrely rot
conspirators!” the poor old man pro
tested. “His excellency is English
and the English do not plot.”
“We shall see afterwards,” l>t
laughed.
A dozen times was the o'd wood eft
ter questioned, but he stubbornly re
fused to admit that lie hxd ever ?<>t
eyes unon Elma. 1 knew of course
by what we had overheard said by f>i€
prison guards, that the gcT/ernor g^n i
era! was extremely anxious to reesp
ture the girl with whom. ? frankly »d |
mit, I had now so utterly taller in j
love. And it appeared than no c.f?< rt j
was being spared to search ^hr us. Bui j
wliat could be the truth of ?:ima'r dls 1
appearance? Had she tied o'" her tiwr
accord, or had she once mon fallen a
victim to some ingenious c»td dgs
tardlv plot. That gray dress ol hers
might. 1 recollected, betray lief tf she
dared to venture near any town while
her affliction would, of itself, bu plain
evidence of identification. All t hopati
was that she had gone and hidden
herself in the forest somewhere in the
vicinity to wait until t*H> danger of
recapture had passed.
For as long as possible I succeeded
in delaying our departure, but at
length, just as the yellow sun begao
to struggle through the gray clouds,
we were all three compelled to depart
in sorrowful procession.
At nine o’clock ] stood in the b*g
bate office of Micha-.-l Koifanski. where
only a short time before we had hud
such a heated argument. As soon a*
the chief of police hr d entered, he
recognized ine unde? arrest, and dis
missed my guards V* ith a wave of tht
hand—all save the officer who had
brought me therp. He listened to the
officer’s story of fUy arrest without
saying a word.
iTO BE CONTINUED.)
Audacity of Woman Spies.
A climax to the audacity of spies it !
said to have been readied in the case
of a woman preteuding to he English
and giving her na'te as Miss Booth,
who. in connection With another worn
an calling herself L ironess de Uosen,
organised a charitable work at the
Clare du Nord. in 'Jaris. which the;,
called "For the Wet inded and for the
Refugees.” The former, suspected of
illicit coniintmicatibn with the Ger
mans, passed befofe a court-martial
and was sentenced to two years' iin
prisonment, while the latter, against
whom ne- tangible proof could be pro
duced. was invited to leave French ter
; ritory within 4S hours.
CHANGES WROUGHT BY WAR
Tommy Atkins” of Today Is a Differ
ent Being From His Prototype of
a Few Years Ago.
The old pouter-pigeon type of Brit
ish soldi'er, with his ramrod deport
ment and feet at impossible angles.
Ir now as obsolete as his red coat.
This change is evident, not only in
tie training of the new army, but in
the royal cadet schools at Sandhurst
uid Woolwich. Alertness and agility,
mental and physical, are now aimed
for instead of physical rigidity and
mechanical precision as in the old
times.
Swedish exercises have taken the
flace of conventional calisthenics.
About the only piece of apparatus left
la the Sandhurst gymnasium is the
Itadded horse. Parallel bars, rings,
heavy dumb-bells and pulley exercises
have been sent away. Now the ca
dets are taught what is known in
I heir slang as monkey tricks, such
bB walking on top of high and narrow
ttone walls and Jumping safely to the
round. Sk 3Dlnu the rope and playing
various kinds of games.
One reason why the pouter chest
has gone out of style is its menace to
health. An overdeveloped chest Is
held to be dangerous, as it invites
pneumonia and other troubles. Men
on the march are allowed to unbutton
their coats and make themselves com
fortable, but smoking at such times
is discouraged by the medical au
thorities. The deportment of the sol
dier on parade has also been made
normal and natural.
Beehive Bombs.
A French genius has recently of
fered an idea which he is confident
will be more effective against the en
emy than bombs dropped by an avia
tor. "Instead of arming our aviators
with bombs, which are seldom ef
fective, -we should do better with
beehives,” says this patriot. “Let
each aviator carry one or two hives
and launch them on the foe below.
At the rate of 30,000 bees to the hive,
one may count that about 2,000 will
be killed or stunne# by the fall; but
the other 28,000 launched by a skil
ful hand on the enemy will cover thatn •
in an instant with innumerable stings
and put every combatant out of the
fight for several days. Then our men
would have nothing to do but to end
them or capture them.” Commenting
on this proposal, which evidently is
made in all seriousness, a witty
Frenchman says: ‘ The inventor doen
not say what would happen if a mis
directed hive should fall in a French,
trench. If the bees were loyal they
would make the salute military and
buzz the ‘Marseillaise.' ”
In Every Drop of Water.
In every drop of water we drink,
and in every mouthful of air we
breathe, there is a movement and
collision of particles so rapid in every
second of time that it can only be ex
pressed by four with nineteen
naughts. If the movement of these
particles were attended by friction, or
if the energy of their impact were
translated into heat, what hot mouth
fuls we should have! But the heat,
as well as the particle, is infinites
imal, and is not perceptible.—John
Burroughs in the Yale Review.
MAY MEAN END OF ALL WAR
Development of Destructive Airship
Sure to Have Powerful Effect on
Humanity.
The difficulty of properly arming
and protecting ail craft lies in the
fact that we cannot yet obtain suf
ficiently powerful engines — even
though, in the course of a few years,
the engines have increased in horse
Power from about fifty to two hun
dred, says Claude Grahame-White in
the Youth's Companion. But when
we look ahead, and estimate what
may be possible with a power plant,
not of hundreds of horse power, but
of thousands, then we can imagine
a perfected war machine, of the fu
ture—a huge armored craft, that car
ries a crew of hundreds of men. and
that is equipped with formidable guns
and aerial torpedo and bomb-dropping
tubes. Such a vessel will be able to
reef its wing surface when traveling
at high speed, and will rush through
the air as a speed of several hundred
miles an hour.
But even against such metal-bir't
; monsters of the a’.r. flying at their
amazing speeds, man will pit his in
genuity. It is clear that he cannot
i tight them from the earth, he must
fight them high in their own element
I So in the future, if wars continue,
we may have fearful struggles of the
air—not small and isolated combats
such as this campaign has shown us.
hut battles desperately waged, with
death and destruction raining from
the clouds. There are those, how
ever, who argue that such a form
Of war, when pushed to its ruthless
limit, will prove so ghastly that hu
manity will revolt, and that the sci
: ence that revolutionizes war will also
end it.
River Names.
Nausemcnd. the name of a river in
Virginia, is from the Indian word
Nawnschimund, “the place from which
we were driven away.” The Flint, in
Michigan, wa§ called by the Indians
Perwonigo, ‘‘the river of the flint."
from the abundance of this stone on
its banks. Humboldt river, in Nevada,
was named by Fremont in honor of
Baron
Hand «i Labor
By LILBURN H. TOWNSEND.
Hand of labor, hand of might.
Ha thou strong in things of right.
Master thou of crafts untold.
Driving them in heat and cold;
Working high and working low.
That the world may brighter grow.
Press, the loom, and traffic great.
Know the drive behind thy weight.
Hand of labor, rude and tine.
Tilings ef earth are mostly thine.
Mines of gold and fields of wheat.
Harbors deep where pennants greet
Ships ot war, canals and locks.
Hoads of steel and bridges, docks.
Strain thy sinews day and night.
Be thou strong in things of right.
Mills and shops in clang and roar.
Foundry fires and molten ore:
Sullen mines and heaving seas.
Hands of rock and timber trees:
< utton fields as white as snow.
Forges black 'mid flames aglow.
•Strain thy sinews day and night,
Be thou strong in tilings of right.
Hand of labor, great thou art:
Be thou fair, and bear thy part
Hike big souls, sincere, intense:
Sloop not low to base offense.
Nor. in iieat. forget that men.
Hnrse and small, al! kind ami ken.
Have their place and must remain
'Neath the sway of guiding brain.
s
LABORTROUBLEQLO
Disturbances Go Far Back Into
History.
Apostle Paul is on Record as Having
, Created Dissension Among the
People of Ephesus by His
Preaching of Christianity.
While the matter of l>abor day is
under consideration, the question
arises: What is labor? Webster;
gives as his first definition: “Toil or
exertion, physical or mental."
William B. Wilson, secretary of the
department of labor, gave the follow
ing as his conception of the idea:
"Labor is any mental or physical ac
tivity other than that engaged in sole
ly for pleasure"—a definition showing
a brain at once practical and analytic.
Mr. Powderly would narrow this
somewhat by defining labor as "any
exertion, mental or physical, not in
dulged in for pleasure aud for the ben
efit of mankind.”
Doctor Coulter of the census bureau,
an expert on such matters, would give
an even broader scope to the word. He
defines labor as: “All effort, whether
mental or physical.”
The question of Labor day naturally
brings to mind the collateral labor
questions of labor union protests and
strikes. There is a tendency among
latter-day philosophers to prophesy
ail manner of evil to come to mankind
by the way of labor unions and their
troubles, both among themselves and
with others, and to hold forth these
troubles as a proof of human deca
dence, peculiar only to this degenerate
age.
in mis connection, while the early
history of Rome and-the tribulations
of the workman of that day show that
labor troubles have always been with
us, there is a most interesting pass
age in the Acts of the Apostles, which,
when read with an eye to modern la
bor dissensions, shows that mankind
has not varied one whit in his striving
for what he considers the fruits of his
labor, since the days of St. Paul.
Paul, together with other apostles,
went up in the Ephesus country, seek
ing converts to the Christian faith.
Now, Ephesus was the favorite city
of Diana, or Artemis, as she was also
called. Here was her famous temple;
here was her famous statue, said by
the priests to have fallen from heaven.
Thither every year came pilgrims by
the tens of thousands to worship at
the shrine of the tutelary deity—and
here a goodly number of silversmiths
found their calling a most lucrative
one. Kor, there being no photographs
nor postal cards, these pilgrims took
away with them small silver fac
simile statuettes of the great goddess
as souvenirs. Now observe the nine
teenth chapter of Acts, according to
the twentieth century version of the
New Testament:
‘Now a silversmith named Demet
rius, who made silver models of the
shrine of Artemis (Diana), and so
gave a great deal of work to the arti
sans, got these men together, as well
as the workmen engaged in similar
occupations, and said: 'Men, you know
that. our prosperity depends upon this
work, and you see and hear that, not
only in Ephesus, but in almost the
whole of Roman Asia, this Paul has
convinced and won over great num
bers of people bv his assertion that
those gods which are made by hands
are not gods at all, so that not only is
this business of ours likely to fall
into discredit, but there is the further
danger that the temple of the great
goddess, Artemis (Diana), will be
thought nothing of, and that she her
self will be deprived of her splendor,
though all Roman Asia and the whole
world worship her.'
“When they heard this the men
were greatly enraged and began shout
ing: ‘Great is Artemis ot the Ephe
sians!' The commotion spread through
the whole city, and the people rushed
with one accord into the theater, drag
ging with them the companions of
Paul."
Certainly there cannot be found in
any modern newspaper a more perfect
account of a sympathetic strike and a
labor riot. Ar.d that was two thousand
years ago.
The earliest work on shorthand
writing was compiled by Dr. Timothy
Bright of Cambridge in 1398.
BUSY DAYS COMING
Period of Stress Ahead of the
American Worker.
Labor Day an Excellent Time to
Think of the Future That Must
Be the Result of the War
in Europe.
Every American, whether lie works
with his hands or with his head, will
take full advantage of Labor day, the
last of the summer holidays; every
one will appreciate the fact that there
is a long period of work ahead of him
This fall and winter is sure to be
a time of readjustment in many lines
of American commerce and labor, due
to the European war, which not only
shuts off some of i:e things we buy.
but is filling our warehouses with
many of the things we sell. How to
manage without the particular things
we have always imported and how to
get a market for the things Europe
cannot buy must engage our serious
attention for months, perhaps for
years. There may be some failures in
the effort to readjust, but there will
be more successes, and great ones
The best thing about the whole sit
uation is the stout heart of the bust
ness world and the people in general.
They enter upon a combat with un
certainties with the old Yankee con
fidence, backed by the knowledge that
in the fundamental Items of physical
life we are safe. We can teed our
selves, clothe ourselves, warm our
selve. The rest is only a matter of
time and adjustment. There will be
no hard times if the Lard work is
well tackled.
Business must not wayt “until the
war is over," for nobody knows when
that blessed day will be If we are
prepared for a long war, jo much the
more prosperity if the war Is brief.
It is a splendid time for every
American, from the housewife to tlie
capitalist, to study American econo
mies and get a better knowledge of
values.
DEMAND IS FOR SERVICE
Public Ideas- Have Had a Significant
Change in a Comparatively
Few Years.
When the French aristocrat before
the great revolution was asked as to
his chief service to society, he replied.
“To have been born.” He felt that his
mere presence in the world coDterred
an honor on his country.
That has been the attitude of privi
leged classes of all time. But a new
ideal has come into men’s minds—the
ideal of labor, of service to the com
munity. Today the public is constant
ly asking men to justify their income.
"What have you done to deserve it?" is
the question. By what service to so
ciety have you earned your money?"
It used to be considered uerfectly
proper to water the stock of great pub
lic service corporations. But r.ow peo
ple have come to see this means to
get an income without working for it.
and public sentiment is shutting off
the practice.
Melon cutting in connection with
franchise grabs was once popular. But
it became apparent that this wa* mere
ly one way of getting something for
nothing, and the day of melon cutting
is done.
So, all up and down the line the de
mand has come for service in return
for income. Society is willing to write
its note for pretty nearly any amount
to the energetic man, but it insists that
the payment shall be for value re
ceived.
Show Noteworthy Gains.
The gains in membership of the
unions which form the American Fed
eration of Labor aggregated 224 T5S.
on a total of 1,703,749 at the begin
ning of 1914. The rate of increase
was over 12 per cent. It is true that
in the same twelve moiith3 the num
ber of workers in the United States
who were eligible to membership in
the American Federation of Labor in
creased more than 224,000. It may
have been augmented by 450.000 or
even by 500,000, but the fact remains
beyond dispute that the gains of the
trade unions have been remarkable,
from any reasonable point of view.
