I, THE By WAY LAND W (Copyri*] . (Continued from Yesterday.) "I like it,” he informed himself. *'I like the Chino shops and the musty churches and the department-store houses and the naked kids and the Filipino laborers with their funny peaked hnts. But gee! I really believe I like my own country most of all 1 see here. It may be the idealisnf of youth, hut really it would seem that we'd achieved something beneficial hull unselfish. The benefits we get from the naval base and coaling sta tions and trade can’t be said to out balance what we've given in peace, health, education and prosperity, or what we’ve spent in men and cash to these, if this is Imperialism, »ou can call me an Imperialist.” He took trips down the Bay, to Bos Banos, to Pagsanjun, to the Taal vol cano, and wished he were free to go further afield, to the Mountain Prov ince or the Southern Islands, and see for himself the Moros, those Orange men of the Philippines, to cut his way with a bolo through primeval jungle and shoot exotic animals. But it wasn't to be. Just as the mon soon rains broke and the heat became clammy he was assigned for duty to the Nashua, a superannuated cruiser of some 8,000 tons burden. Two days after he joined she steamed down the hay one night in the teeth of a hot wet wind, and Manila was a memory. II. He had rather hoped to be sent on gunboat duty in China, to poke his nose a thousand miles up an ancient liver and see nt close quarters the most numerous of the world's fami lies. But this would Hhotv him some thing equally interesting, and as naval duty it was lietter. If—and rumor had it that this was the case— there was a German raider alive in the Pacific, there was a chance of action. He wished this could be so. though the Nashua as a fighting proposition was not inspiring of con fidence. She listed, she creaked in a dead calm; her eight-inch turret guns had the worn, thin, refined air of Colonial spoons. Wardroom gos sip had It that they had not been bore-sighted since 1900. Without any one's knowing, or car ing much, where they were bound they rounded Mindanao and steamed eastward into the unnamed sea that lies between Micronesia on the north and Melanesia on the south. Kit was aware, through the reading he did on the side, that they were leaving one world for another. Malaysia for Poly nesia, the world of Conrad for that of Stevenson and Melville. Both were fascinating, and since neither was war it made little difference. Duties aside—and he found that for a nor mally Intelligent person they could be largely aside—he felt as if he were traveling for pleasure on a blank ticket, destination unknown. On and on iney plowed, facing the sunrise, amid dally spouts of rain and the ubiquitous odor of the open sea, so different from the familiar “salt” air of tidal marshes and the same here as anywhere, except that New York —Day by Day— - -' By 0. 0. M'INTYRK. New York, Oct. 24.—For five years he has lived In the shadow of the death house at Sing Sing. The other day he walked out free. What little Is left of his crumpled life Is to be centered on his wife, who stood stead fastly by him during the desolate tra • vail. I never realized before how gray prison walls break a man's spirit. In other days our paths crossed. Then he was a gay carefree fellow whose career stretched before him promis ingly. He was vibrant and alive with the flush of youth. There was a spring to his step. And I called on him in a shabby rooming house on St. Nicholas avenue. It seemed to me only the ashes re mained. He spoke in a voice a shade above a whisper. His attitude was one of pathetic servility. His fingers had shrunk to bird like claws. There is a quotation from Burns which reads: "In durance vile here must I wake and weep. And all my frowsy couch in sorrow steep.” His occasional efforts to smile were v.-isps of lugubrious grins. Free, he feared to go out on the streets. At rlusk I persuaded him to take a stroll. A full moon was flooding the streets. Not once did he look up. I tried to tell him he must get a grip on himself. He owed much to Ills wife. "I’m completely beaten," he said. And with a shudder: “I am afraid." This man In an impulsive burst of anger had struck a friend and killed him. Drink was largely responsible. Society had exacted Its price. Yet somehow 1 could not help but feel that this fellow might have been spared the bitterness that Is his. At his door, he said: "You've been kind, but it's no use. My life Is as much over as though I were dead.” Next to the skyline the most color ful picture. New York presents is Fifth avenue shop windows. Nof another street presents such kaleido scopic contrasts—painting, sculpture, jewelry, bronzes, antiques, pet dogs of 10 varieties, pop-eyed goldfish with tails three times as long as their bodies, the styles of famous designers, fine bindings, first editions, old silver, slamps, coins, hour glasses, and even the Jinkle jumble of the five and 10. Old Dan the Telescope Man, a bit of professional gold turned to dross, bad the surprise of his life while showing the stare at 5 cents per peep in Bryan park the other night. A man rame up to behold the heavenly wonders. He presented a bill. Old Dan fumbled for change. "Keep it. Pop,” said the patron. It was a brand new hundred dollar bill. Anil Dan has not been seen at his stand since. But the patron is there nightly look ing for him. He thought It was a dollar. Hasty Kemp, the tramp poet, calls Pis home In the village "The Oaks" because there Is not an oak within a mile of it. In his neighborhood is Frank Shay's bookshop. Mary Vorse. the writer, lives nearby; so does Susan Glaspell, the playwright. It ts a quiet section with a poet at every dune, writing, and an artist a top painting. The village is the only spot left In New York with a general store and It Is around the comer from Kemp's menage. There are rracker barrel* where the Bohemians sit end spin tales of hopes and ambitions. Kemp’s wife, a slight red-haired girl, la writing her first novel. Whatever may be said of the village, it Is rich end deep with color. (Copyright, JtlO KING ELLS WILLIAMS. it. m«.) ' j [ It was always warm and always at the maximum of dampness. In the constant humidity clothes, even the lightest, continually- clung to the flesh and promptly mildewed If left in lock ers; metal corroded, matches refused to ignite and briar pipes exuded a loathly sweat. Kit did not care. Sometimes the clouds would break and the ship would lie between a sea and sky of the most uproarious and In credible blue. Flying fishes shot in silver across the waves, dolphins and bonltas pursuing them on the sur face. Sunsets and sunrises gorgeous beyond imagining marked the ends of the day. At night. If It was clear, strange stars appeared and the fami liar ones about the North Pole sank from sight; the wake of the ship glowed so bright with phosphorus that It seemed to cast a shadow. Even the rain squalls that came lashing up from the southern quadrant were beautiful. This sea was an enchant ed sea; the horizon was the meeting of curtains that waited only for a signal to part and reveal the blinding white of coral beaches, palm-cloaked mountains shooting into rocky spires across which languid vapors trailed, tinkling waterfalls, exuberant flora and stranger yet cousin peoples whose natures were Instinct with the spirits of air and water and the silent, sun dazed magic of the eternal South. III. i\aura, wnere tney first touched, came as something of a Jolt. This was excusable, seeing that, it was new not only to Kit but to the world. Here Indeed were roaring reefs and fantastic coral shapes and glassy la goons lying under brooding palms, but all this was tenijieieii by wire less towers, electric lights, a Euro pean society and industrial activity. A German Island, German for thirty years and an object of Interest to its owners for hardly more than ten, a treasure of phosphates, the latest and most astonishing prize of the Pacific, It had been wrested from German control In the first year of the war by the British. The Ger mans had put up a Rtrong and not ungallant resistance; they had, when the warship left, hauled down the Union Jack and packed the British garrison off to Ocean Island. Now the Germans were Interned in Aus tralia, and the British were quarry ing and shipping their precious phns. phates unhampered. It was odd to see such a well de veloped and obviously profitable busi ness flourishing in the dreamy South. Chinese coolies cut the phosphate slabs in the quarries and carried them out on their barks; they were loaded on narrow-gauge tramways, carried to the shore and transferred to the steamers by the most primi tive means. There was no harbor, jnd every thing and person coming on or off the Island had to run the gaunt let of the eternal surf on the reef In open boats. These were manned by continually shouting Kanakas of sorts, some thin-nosed and yellowish, others brown and negro-looking. Kit loved to watch them; they were so boisterous, so cheery, so willing and. In the long run, so effective. And all the time on the green plateau above the Englishmen lived with families exactly as they might live on Wimbledon Common, entertaining each other at dinner, playing bridge and getting up Red Cross festivities. Of all this he had only one short tantalizing glimpse, for they stayed less than thirty-six hours. He want ed to Join the bridge parties In the neat coral houses in the neat coral pathed gardens, to learn the Nauruan lingo, to talk with the Resident about Imperialism, that queer spontaneous game of Getting Together in odd cor ners of the world. But Juniors did not do that sort of thing. Besides, the Captain was busy with the Resi dent. He had called, It was said in the wardroom, for coal. The ac counts one heard of the Interview were diverting; the most popular was that the Resident had said that there was no coal to spare, but he would wireless for a collier from Sydney, if desired. To which. It was reported, the Captain replied: “Oh no, don't bother; I Just thought I might pick up Borne. I don’t really need It. you know;" and the Resident riposted: "What did you think this wa*. Pitts burgh?”—almost certain fiction, but entertaining. And It caused the Junior officers, Kit with the rest, to turn questioning eyes on the Captain. He was a Com mander by rank and Hubert C. Roth by name; a man in his early fifties with iron-colored hair, a taciturn dis position and a roving eye. It began to he wondered if he were “quite all there.” They might or might not lie pursuing a mythical German raider, and it was quite in order that Junior officers should not know what was on foot; but the Impression most of them got was that he was using the Nashua a good deal like a yacht. No one really knew him; no one knew If he were playing a little game with them or not: one one was quite sure that he was the man to conduct whatever little game the ruling spirits of the Asiatic Fleet had In mind. Kit, for one, never knew. Instead of calling at Ocean Island for coal, as was generally expected, they sailed on southeastward. Intel ligent juniors glanced at the chart and said "Samoa, of course—Pago pago.” Some said Suva. It mattered not in the least what they said, either as regarded Captain Roth or the progress of the ship. Presently they veered east northeast, and the ward room had it that they were going to Honolulu—to be scrapped, most like ly. Kit did not mind. He liked Hono lulu, and It would certainly be pleas anter to be scrapped neatly, in port, than by the wild sea waves. IV. One morning he came on deck after a nap following a night watch and found they were at anchor in a glis tening gray sea, with a bright per manent gleam a mile or so off the port bow\ A reef. The possibility of target practice was suggested, but they had laid to. It appeared, In or der to do something technical to the engines. Only the engineers under stood and they were Intentionally elu slve about It. Tile morning was idled away. At noon Kit saw two of the senior officers vainly trying to make an observation through the cloud lllm.i At lunch the Captain—all the offi cers messed in the wardroom—an nounced that sounding parties would l«e sent out. Again target practice occurred to every one, soundings for a raft mooring. But. no; the Captain merely wanted to find-out where they w-ere. Cloudy weather hod forced them to run on dead reckoning for t week pant; they were near a reef, but it wan not clear which "f two I or three. Soundings, giving the eon figuration, would establish the.’ » whereabouts exaotly. (To Me foaMjiurd Monday.) Bee Want Ads Produce KeB.iIts, THE NEBBS ‘ THE PENALTY OF RICHES. Directed for The Omaha Bcc by Sol Hew ./josr A M\KJUTC.PUOT. DOM'T / TA\CL OFF VOUP SHOES -EPMlE WOOD \ / HAS IWVVTED US TO THE AMALFI ^ \ ( ACOEMS TO OAmCE AMO A HVOMLaHT ( LUMCUEOM - TH\S ^ G(^M SATlSFiEO^-x l«p»u "prrp" *> \ho STAY HOfAE WUUX \ » fA,aki?ta tLEEP N WL wLCt STOIGCiUnG \ 1 WANT TO SVfcfclr \ /vLONG BUT UO\aJ THAT AT NlSUT ANO LOOK wl COiMVMG IN THE DAY T\N\L t ^O^EYl WAKlT TO WHO’S lOOW^G / LWC-^NCC-USTEN VFOR PEEPS ? A ^“^VvSSiDfS ’ ^ _r?c'&u{Abs «V BOUGHT roc «*W &RTWDAV I are GO^< TQJL AST FOREVER/ Barney Google and Spark Plug Urawntor i he umaha t^ by a.ny uets«* I'SPtKt' 'E ONE in a NULUCN QAAUEY. MA IL SHOW VOU TW6 Time of YOUR. UFA . 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