H ' ' " ' " " " " " " " " - - ' , . . , ' . .
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Bv. • .
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BY M.T.CALDOR.
H INTERNATIONAL PRESS ASSOCIATION
H CHAPTER IX. ( Continued. )
H "God bless you , Bir. If ever Charles
Hj "Colllnwood can serve your son , believe
BB mc , it shall be done. Heaven will re-
Vj ard you. "
B This was Mr. Vernon's parting with
S the admiral. Both were conscious oC a
B subtle , mysterious whisper , telling
Si them it was their last meeting on earth
H and so it was.
MB That of Walter and Eleanor was still
H ' -more brief. The young hero forced back
H -the wild tumult that clamored eagerly
R to ask of her one promise to remain
H faithful , and pallid and calm , held out
m Ills hand , saying earnestly :
B | "May heaven bless you with all the
K liappiness it has for earth ! Good-bye ,
§ Ellie. "
mLWm She had come weeping and sobbing
M ( • from his father's embrace. The blue
H | -eyes'had drenched with their briny rain
K ( the soft rose of her cheek to a faded
f -white ; the sweet lips quivered sadly.-
H | "Waller's eye took in all , yet he said
H | ' only :
I , "Good-bye , Ellie ! "
H | i Eleanor had no voice to reply. Part-
Bf j ' ing thus from the only friends she had
B | j ver known , with but a vague , unsatis-
Bf factory hope of some time , somewhere
H | ' "meeting them again , quite prostrated
H ter sensitive temperament. Weeping ,
H fainting , nearly broken-hearted , her
1 | uncle carried her in his arms back to
the cabin , while Walter , with dry , burn
ing eye and rigid lip , descended swiftly
to the boat that was to take them back
to the 'Hornet. '
In silent grief his father took a place
I
j Reside him. The word was given to cast
off , when suddenly the admiral himself
appeared above , leaning over the rail-
I 3ng and calling Walter's name. He
threw down a ring wrapped in a slip
BBf of paper. Walter grasped it nervously.
BS | Full well he knew the ring ; many a
Bf time had Ellie brought it out to see the
By ; : sparkles play in the sunshine that came
BbI flickering through the Hibiscus and
SBf ipalm trees ; but he stopped not to exam-
Hf I ane It anew , but spread out the paper to
HBj ' read the brief line written there. Hur-
S ! ried , blotted as they were , no diamond
B in England or India could be so "precious
0 i j to Walter Vernon , though they were
' only these : "I shall wait for you , Wal-
rter. "
I
Walter's face was covered by his
Iiands , but the straight , shapely fingers
0 [ could not hide the tears that at length
-came pouring through them.
I I " ' CHAPTER X.
| fejga IVE years after the
Hi I .VlC jpi. 'Hornet' and 'Col-
1 jf Jr-J linwood' parted
' -
B I rl l company upon the
B I 'MdL iRa/ ] ocean , was gathered
B 78WKMml'i&ji * n mer"e England ,
* sj3wp ! at a famous gallery
' "W 3 ilJv oi" paintings in
B I //ft&lr i ) ° nd ° n a fashion-
/ & &
B ' i f { ( ( O jit able crowd the
B ' v l& lr living tide swaying :
B to and fro , yet lin-
B fgering ever , some for Art's dear sake ,
B -and some from obedience to a more ty-
B zanxueal mistress Fashion at a group
B I > -of.pictures which bore the mark of a
H | ! vnew genius , whose star had but lately
H vsliolt up brilliantly on the sky of fame.
H Upon a seat not far from these pict-
H i Tires sat a gentleman , whose foreign
H cloak and slouch hat nearly concealed
H Ills face and figure ; only the brilliant ,
H melancholy black eye roving restlessly
H over the crowd , and the glossy black
K moustache shading the scornful lip ,
H -were visible. There was a listless lan-
H snor in his attitude that seemed belied
H S y the keen attentiveness of his glance.
H Suddenly the eye sparkled in earnest at-
H \ Ttention , and quite unconsciously he
H "bent eargerly forward. A gay party
B • I passing by floated toward him the sound
B , < of a well-known name.
r5Lady Eleanor Collinwood pray tell .
\ j -me * in what direction you saw her ? "
B : i asked eagerly an aristocratic-looking
1 j I gentleman.
*
I , "Ah , there it is , " spiritedly replied a
I i ibrilliant-looking girl , twisting her
B j . 3 > earl and gold opera glass affectedly ,
| ' * "you are no exception to the general
rrule. Viscount Somerset , the attrac-
I i * ions of our new star outweigh all oth-
rs. Were she not as lovely in charac-
B ' ter as in person , I should be jealous of
B ' 3ier , but as it is , one must acquiesce
(
B i gracefully. I give you full permission
' I ° leave us and find her. We saw her
B ' 'in their carriage with Lady Annabel
B ; and Sir Marcus Willoughby. "
I ; ! "Upon my word , Lady lEora , you are
I : as keen and sharp as the frosty air of
this November day. I assure you I
j \ -find present company agreeable enough
! -to keep me here until we meet or overtake -
( take the Collinwoods. I have a message
! dtor .Lady Annabel from the admiral ,
! i -whom I met at Bath. By the way , I
I \ i fancied I discovered a likeness in that
I "beautiful girl on the canvas yonder to
I
! j Xady Eleanor. This Vernon keeps so
, -private no one knows about him. Per-
ihaps , after all , it was a glimpse of her
, iface that inspired him to so grand an
.effort. "
The gay talkers chattered on , un-
1 i mindful of the eager listeners behind
?
' 1 them. At length came a stir of expecta-
< ctlon.
; "Here they come , Somerset. See
J -what a crowd of elite follows. You'll
\ _ " | have little chance for conversation.
"How wonderful is the sway Lady Anna-
; • I l > el holds over all hearts , with her pale ,
, * qIritual face and gentle dignity ! See ,
t rthe Duke of B is talking with her.
%
< . I 23ave you ever doubted she might be a >
. * '
I. I "
1
loll '
i
* His"4wa | i .wM w Mmi jjWJ > a'n.i ' > mt.nw inii , i iw" ' j' " m miw" ' " " ihhi i . < n
* duchess any day ? But never was wife ,
so faithful and devoted to a husband's
memory as she. How she must have
loved him ! "
"Duchess ! Yes , she might have had
her choice of two or three coronets at
the least Everybody knows how our
best and noblest men have sued' in vain.
She wins almost as much admiration as
her daughter now. "
"Hush , they will hear you ! Good af
ternoon. "
"A fine day , Lady Annabel. I have a
word for you from Bath. "
The muffled figure bent forward yet
farther. How the eye glittered with a
lustre feverish and unnatural !
"Lady Annabel Collinwood , Eleanor's
mother ! "
At the very name came the flood of
old emotion , sweeping away the breast
work that for five years of strenuous
toil , of stupendous exertion , had been
closely guarded , lest a single wave
should overleap the restraining barrier.
No wonder Walter Vernon Signor
Vernoni he had allowed the Italians to
call him , and the name came with his
fame to England no wonder he gazed
with breathless interest as the group
advanced , to see lor the first time Lady
Annabel Collinwood ! I
He could have selected her from a
crowd of ladies as fair and graceful as
she a slender , pale-faced woman , with j
a well-bred , quiet grace , deep , mournful '
eyes not like Eleanor's , blue and
sunny , but dim and dark as the mid
night sea , carrying with her a name
less , invisible and yet potent atmos
phere of refinement and purity. This
he saw at first , but a second look show
ed him flashes of light corruscating
over the dim iris , and making the eye
resplendent ; waves of rich thought
breaking over the symmetrical features , .
and glorifying them with light and.
shade of eloquent meaning ; smiles rare
and seldom , but wonderful and magical
when they came , arching into beauty
the lips that were Eleanor's own. He
felt at once the spell by which Lady
Annabel still swayed all hearts , al
though more than forty years had pass
ed over her smooth , fair forehead. She
was leaning lightly upon * the duke's
arm , but her attention was given to the
young viscount , who was relating in his
lively way the meeting with the cour
teous admiral.
The tall figure and massive head of
the noble duke concealed the couple
who walked behind , and Walter was
obliged to wait until Lady Annabel and
her companion turned to the pictures
before he beheld her for whom his heart
had sighed so long.
Eleanor was only sixteen when they
parted upon the far-off Pacific. Five
years , replete with the important
change from girlhood to womanhood ,
had passed would she seem the same ?
His beating heart nearly suffocated
him as Walter once more gazed upon
Lady Eleanor Collinwood.
Ah , the relief ! it was still his Ellie ,
though the youthful grace and beauty
had ripened into matured perfection
though the slender form had grown
more stately , and the girlish diffidence
had merged Into a calm , self-possessed
dignity a well-bred grace that the is
land experience could never have given
her. Still the soft blue eyes wore their
guileless look of pleading innocence ;
the sweet lips dimpled with the very
smile poor Tom had so often compared
to the first sunbeam that glistened
through the cloud over the sea , when
the "Petrel" lay a wreck among the
reefs.
How swiftly his pulse leaped , his eye
burned ! Would that smile ever beam
for him again ? Not a breath of intelli
gence had passed between them since
their parting ; for all he knew she might
have forgotten his very existence. He
could test it speedily. And then , with
jealous rage , the unknown artist turned
to her companion , on whose handsome
face so plainly was written his devoted
admiration. There was a manly , high
bred air about him that pierced poor
Walter like a sword. He was good , he
was noble , he was worthy of her that
could be read at a glance. No wonder
she listened so graciously to his anima
ted words.
With a stifled groan Walter turned
away. Duke , marquis , noble lord
whichever he was , he had a right to
offer his homage and suit ; but for the
plebeian painter , where was there any
hope , any plea whereby to win the favor
of that high-born , aristocratic mother ,
even though Eleanor herself were true
to that voluntary promise "I will
wait for you" ?
The black folds of Lady Annabel's
dress swept across his feet , and while
the hot blood mounted his cheeks Wal
ter bent his head , as though his pre
sumptuous thoughts were laid bare be
fore that sad , dark eye.
Then a single word in Eleanor's well-
known voice came to his ear it was
hurried , agitated , vehement. So well
he understood every tone of that be
loved voice , he knew something had
startled her , - and yet she had spoken
but one word "Mother ! "
"What is it , my love ? " asked Lady
Annabel , turning at once where her
daughter , alternately flushing and pal
ing , stood before the famous pictures
that had won so much attention. They
were evidently champion pictures , rep
resenting the same scene by daylight
and at midnight a high , steep point
of land , jutting out into the sea , whose j
, . . . . . . . . T , . . , .
MP r ! ! ! r i wi3 > wnwM " * mj .1,1 .i- >
flurr beat in frothy petulance against
the reef. The feathery palm-tree cano
py and gorgeous vines whose brilliant
blossoms lay like garlands over the
white rock , betrayed the tropic clime
no more plainly than the intense blue
of the over-arching sky. Nature was
inexpressibly lovely , but the gazer's
eye was caught and riveted by the hu
man figures. A young girl , graceful
and beautiful , was seated there like a
queen upon her throne , and beside her ,
nearly at her feet , reclined a youth
whose countenance was partially con
cealed as he was looking up eagerly in
to her face , which wore a wild , sorrowful
rowful , yearning look , as her eyes and
extended hand pointed to the far-off
line where sky and water met. Not
one could gaze upon the picture and not
know the whole was not yet compre
hended the story not half told.
CHAPTER XL
companion was
fTS in the back-
ffcpMAS fU ground a dim sky
/ ' / ffl § and 8tar3 8nowlnS
MsJlS ? I faillty the outllne
*
# 8 $ lik W of emDowerlnStree ;
( CjS § 2v t l but upon the rock ,
5&f\ instead of its
& \ " \
a ) ) queen , blazed a
S&tfQjfa bonfire that lit up
% j $ . luridly the foamy
sea , and gave a
ruddy gleam to three figures waiting
near the youth and maiden and tall ,
grave man , who were all gazing off
with a wild intensity of expression that
gave a gloomy look to every face over
the water.
"Ah , the pictures ! " said Sir Clement
Willoughby. "I have looked at them
full an hour before , to-day. They are
thrilling , are they not ? I must seek
out the artist ; it will be an honor for
any man to know him. That midnight
is superb. "
Eleanor stood with wild eyes that
could not drink eagerly enough the
old familiar scene. Now the blue orbs
kindled joyfully , and again the tears
came welling over them.
"Oh , Walter , Walter ! " cried she , in a
tone of anguish that startled all and
thrilled one heart with joy.
"What ails you , Eleanor ? " asked her
mother anxiously.
"Oh , mamma , take me home , and let
us come alone. I must see the pictures
alone. "
The ladies and gentlemen gathered
around her looked astonished and em
barrassed.
"But mv child. " said her mother
gravely , "we do not understand ; you
owe the company some word of expla-
- ' * "
np-'o ' .
Eleanor struggled for composure , and
dropping her veil over the flushed
cheek and tearful eyes , said more col
lectedly :
"I was taken by surprise. It is our
island home , mamma , and that is Wal
ler and Mr. Vernom and myself. Oh ,
those well-known scenes it breaks my
heart to go back to them , and yet to
knownothing of the friends who shared
them with me ! It was Walter who
painted the pictures. "Oh , I am sure it
was Walter ! I must see him I must
find him. "
Lady Annabel turned hastily to the
picture ? , while a look of pain and an
noyance swept across her face. She was
evidently revolving some subject care
fully in her mind , for after the first
swift glance she dropped her eyes to the
floor.
Sir Clement Willoughby was reexamining
amining the pictures , more especially
the first one. His eye wandered questioningly -
tioningly over the graceful form of the
youth at the feet of the island queen ,
pud when he turned to the other it waste
to catch what knowledge he could from
the side glimpse of the boyish face.
( TO BE < OXTlXUEI > . )
Horses Will Xlemnln. _ -
The horseless age is a long way off.
It is out of sight , and is likely to re
main so , notwithstanding the arrival
of the bicycle and the motor wagon.
When the reaper was invented pessi
mists foretold the starvation of the
agricultural laborer. The sewing ma
chine was bitterly fought by people
who saw nothing in store for the seam
stress. The world to-day knows the
results. It is true that electric street
railways have dispensed with the serv
ice of many thousand horses and that
the bicycle has decidedly injured the
livery business , and yet it is a fact
that the export trade in American
horses is making giant strides forward.
The exports for 1895 , just compiled ,
are $3,000,000 in value about twice
that of 1894. Europe will keep on
buying American horses , and the I
equine which at home has survived
the competition of the steam railroad
and the trolley line will hold its own
with the "bike" and the horseless
wagon. Horses will be cheaper , just
as watches are cheaper now than for
merly , that is all. New York Journal.
Toured Wnter In His Boots.
The Rev. Leonard B. Worth of the
Baptist church has begun a suit for
divorce from Elvira W. Worth in Ok
lahoma. The clergyman alleges that
his wife asked him to deed all of his
property to her and made threats that
if he did not she would not live with
him , but would make it hot for him
all his life. On one occasion , he says ,
she filled his Sunday boots with water.
Brotherly Iiove.
Love is the only recognizable ele
ment of power in this world. Every
one who has grown beyond childish
ness of heart and mind acknowledges
that the only thing which makes life
worth living is the good we can do for
others. Rev. C. J. Wood.
"Jaysam Brown" of Kansas seema
less eccentric when you analyze it , and
discover that it is only a blame fool !
way of writing "James Samuel. " {
V
. ,
1 ' ' " ' ' &
. . . , , • . . _ ' . . . < ' . * ' - * - - * * < r S" > . >
' " ' ' , " ' * T i i i imwh r i n > i . i i i in .ii i . i i i i rj'iBTl ' n r
I
: POINTER TO FARMERS.
WHY THE PRICE OF PRODUCE
IS SMALL.
Statement by a Practical l < torraor .Which
I Worthy of. the Consideration of
Erery Tiller of the Soil Condition
and Theory.
This subject may be answered to per
fect satisfaction , if people will only
look at facts. A practical farmer once
said he would rather own a good farm
in the vicinity of a mine than to own
the mine. He said if the mine was
worked he could make more money
selling produce to the miners than the
owner of the mine could make ; that if
the mine was not worked it was not
worth anything , and he could always
make a living out of his farm.
This statement of this practical far
mer is worthy of serious consideration.
The farmer can always do well if there
is a demand for his produce. When he
makes a crop he wants somebody to
buy it. Look now at the facts ; if the
mills and factories are not running ,
the mines are less worked. If the
mills and factories are idle many other
industries stop. Activity in manufac
turing begets activity in many other
things ; railroads , steamboats and
wagons all have more to do ; merchants
have more to do ; everybody has more
to do. The more there is to do the
more people are employed to do it.
All who are employed get wages. What
they get they can pay out for what
they want. The more people there are
at work and getting pay the more mon
ey is in hand ready to be expended for
the farmer's produce.
But some one will say all these people
ple have to live anyway and have to
be fed. Yes but this difference ap
pears : People may live very economi
cally and cheap ; they would like to
lire better , but they have no money
unless they have work , and they do on
just as little as possible. A family can
live , if one member gets as much as a
dollar a day , but if two or three mem
bers of the family each gets two dollars
lars a day that family will live just
that much better.
Some will now say it is extravagant
for people to live liberally that they
ought to be economical and all that.
Let the man who says this reflect on
how much his family expends. He per
haps thinks his income of one , two , or
three , or five thousand dollars a year
is little enough. Why does he not live
on a dollar a day ?
The truth is it is but a natural privi
lege that a man wants when he wants
to live better than merely keeping
alive. If the people can get good pay
it is their privilege to want to use it
for home comforts. A man naturally
wants his wife and children to have
some of the good things of life a car
pet , rocking chair , some boo- . ; , some
nice clothes. Nobody wants to be
cramped down to the bare necessities
of life.
If people have work they will live
more liberally and in greater com
fort , and thereby they will spend more
money , and the farmer will have more
people to sell to , and get more money
for what he has to sell.
Now , we had just as well try to make
water run up hill as to try to have
busy factories in the country without
protection to our American industries.
Free trade says the people of the old
world can make all sorts of goods and
bring them to this country free of
duty. If that is done of course the
people of this country will be out of
a job. What our people want is the
job. They want the work. |
Free trade says let any man have j
the job , no matter what country he i
lives in. Protection says we will give
work to our own people. We will run
factories and mills in this country , and
this will open the mines , and this will
make work for railroads and steam
boats and wagons , and everybody else
will have more to do. Men will have
to be employed and they will get pay ,
and they will have money to spend for
the farmer's produce.
The pitiful cry of the free trader is
that a man ought to he allowed to buy
his clothes for just as little as possible.
Suppose it would be true that protec
tion would cause a man to give a lit
tle more for his coat , and cause a
farmer to give a little more for his
plow , or a rake , what does this amount
to when a man has work at good wages
and the farmer has somebody to sell
"lis stuff to ?
Is it not perfectly plain that the in
terests of the farmer and the mechanic
are just the same. The farmer wants
more money for his wheat. Why does
not somebody say the mechanic wants
to buy his flour just as cheap as he can
get it ? What comfort is that to the
farmer ?
The farmer wants good prices , the
manufacturer wants good prices , the
mechanic wants good prices , everybody
wants good prices. Free trade , by
taking the work out of our own hands ,
strikes a blow at all alike.
Put protection duties on foreign man
ufactures and give our own people a
chance to work is the policy of protec
tion. We want division of labor in our
country. While some raise crop3 , oth
ers want to work in factories. This
will make a home market , and it will
not only give work and employment to
our people , but raise the price of prod-
_
•
uce. The whole case lies In theslrap )
fact that free trade gives the work to
the hundreds of people who live In the
old world and takes It away from our
own people.
It was the free trade vote , of 1892
thai caused what the platform adopted
by the recent convention in this city
called "cessation of our prosperity. "
Instead of that condition being tracea
ble to any conduct of the republican
party it is traceable directly to the
panic produced when thi3 country
voted for free trade. It Is part of the
work of the republican party to rectify
that tremendous mistake. Louisville
Commercial.
BritUh Prosperity.
Great Britain Is enjoying an era of
unexampled prosperity. The mills and
workshops of England are ablaze with
activity and wage-earners are content
edly employed. We hear no more of
bread riots on Trafalgar square and
the walking delegate has been si
lenced.
The transition from pinching want
and spiritless idleness to copious
plenty and lively employment is coin
cident with the gradual operation of
the Wilson free trade bill. Although
it may be entirely unrelated to it , the
fact is , that English mills were closed
and English workmen idle while the
McKinley bill was on the statute
book ; now the mills are going and the
workmen are employed and we have
the Wilson bill and general stagnation.
Give the English manufacturer a
free and practically unrestricted mar
ket in this greatest and most voracious
cious consuming country and he will
keep his workmen busy. By the same
license the American manufacturer is
forced to close his mills and throw out
of employment his workmen. This is
not a theoretical platitude ; It is a ponderous
derous verity which i3 being illustrat
ed most vividly by contrast between
England and America at this writing.
What has the silver question to do
with the premises ? Absolutely noth
ing. Industry has revived in England
because England has found a market
for her wares and manufactures. In
dustry is paralyzed in this country be
cause England is making and selling
here the wares and manufactures we
ought to make for ourselves. It is as
FREE COINAGE. 'HI
A
. III Eiporlane
Kor. Dr. Buckley yuote.
a * nn Illustration. J sJ B
Rev. Dr. J. M. Buckley , editor , of the ' J1H
New York Christian Advocate , in conducting - . | H
ducting a "Question Drawer" at the U iB
Lake Chautauqua Assembly a day or tl |
two ago grappled with the silver ques- | H
tion. Following is the question sent to JH
him and his answer : HI
QjWhat would be the probable of- fei |
feet on missionary enterprises if free jrf I
colnago of silver were to become a law Ml H
of the United States ? ] |
A. It would Instantly or very IH
speedily reduce the Incomes of the for- S |
eign missionaries or it would cqmpel HI
.tne raising of a vast amount moro .nfl
money. The salaries of all foreign missionaries - ' |
,
sionaries have to be paid in gold. Re- 9 |
cently in India the silver rupee has |
diminished in value to such an extent S |
that one denomination , has been com- B |
pelled to make great additions to its MmW
budget in order to , cqualize the sala- ,41 |
rles of missionaries in that country. I ) | |
&
know of a denomination with whose /si / |
affairs I am familiar that sends about * 1
5800,000 in gold from this country every il |
year to foreign missionaries. Under , 'jj B
free coinage , if silver became more and 5 | B
more our money , and we had to take ( f |
contracts on a silver basis , you can \ \ m\ \
readily see what the effects would be. \ m\ \
When I first went to Europe , it was v i |
during the civil war : I had to go , and V > 1 |
I said to a man , go to Boston and buy 4 , IMW
me six hundred dollars worth of gold. r JVI
He went and came back. Had net if B
bought any. He said that gold had If l
gone up to 1.20 and that he did not > $ Lm
want to waste my money like that. I Vj I
said to him , go and chase it and get it. t1 1
He went , and the next night came § m\\ \
back and reported that it had gone up ! 1 1
to 1.35 , and that he certainly did not l |
want to waste my money at that rate. 1
r
I said I must have it , even if you can * * H
only bring back one hundred dollars , ! 9
bring it. By that time it had gone up : B
to 1.50. When I got over to the other > H
side I discovered that gold had not | H
risen at all , but that greenbacks the , BH
legal tender in this country had gone i H
down. [ Voice in the audience that is H
right. ] While there I had to borrow H
some money , and I made the contract H
to pay it back in gold after I had re- H
/ H
A POSER FOR GROVER. M
LI HUNG CHANG But why shut out Chinese labor at one door and admit J * ' < < |
the products of Chinese labor at the other door ? ; H
.4
plain as the alphabet and yet the sil-
verites are yelling for more free trade
and for free coinage of silver in the
same breath.
It is not pleasant for an American
to contemplate this marked condition
with the condition presented in 1891
and 1892. He feels like kicking him
self and everybody else for being de
ceived by the free trade cry of ' 92 and
opening our markets to Great Britain
to our everlasting injury. To him the
tariff is the great issue in this cam
paign , notwithstanding the emotional
ists are barking up the free coinage
tree. Therefore he will vote for a re
turn of the industrial prosperity which
in 1892 he helped to give to our great
rival across the sea. Detroit Journal.
Japan for Instance.
Japan has a silver currency , and the
wages paid in that country are very
low. The money in which the wages
of laborers are paid , being measured
by the silver standard , has steadily
shrunk in value during recent years.
In 1889 sugar was about 2 cents per
! pound in Japan , a carpenter's wages
I were 15 cents a day ; in 1891 sugar had
advanced to a trifle over 3 cents per
pound , while carpenters' wages had
gone up to 15 % cents a day ; in 1894 •
sugar was 3 % cents per pound , carpen
ters' wages llM cents per day. In oth
er words , a week's wages in 1889 would
buy 36 pounds of sugar ; in 1891 , 31
pounds ; in 1894 , 29 pounds. Wages
have nominally increased , but the
prices of commodities have increased
so much more rapidly that the condi
tion of the wage earner has been con
stantly getting worse. Under the sil
ver standard in Japan , rice advanced
in price G2 per cent from 1889 to 1895 ;
beans , 39 per cent ; salt , 26 per cent , and
tobacco , 48 per cent. The average in
crease in wages was about 14 per cent
for the same period. Japan's currency
has been steadily depreciating under
the silver standard , the common people
growing poorer.
Assertions.
The populists continue to assert that
there was bimetallism and the co-equal
circulation of gold and silver as legal
tenders down to "the crime of 1873. "
Yet in all that time only 8,000,000 sil
ver dollars were coined , and in 1S73
not a silver dollar was in circulation.
The act of 1873 simply recognized the
fact of its non-existence.as currency.
Since that act upwards of 400,000,000
silver dollars have been coined , and
they arc kept in circulation by the de
vice of silver certificates and the prom
ise of the government to maintain
them at a parity with gold. But with
the free coinage of silver on private
account this obligation would cease ,
and those who should receive .the sil
ver dollars in payment of wages or
salaries or debts would have to look
out for themselves
MfiftilMMMftlliMMIMIiittlii M
turned. Now , maik ; at i'ja time I bor- H
y
rowed , gold was selling in the United i H
States at 1.66 , and in less than - six 1 H
months after I came back I had to pay H
2.22 for it ; and it had been up and - - 1
down according to our success or de * % \
feat in the war. M
Can a National Silver Trust Work a B
B
Ques. Is there any probability that i l
silver would be doubled in price by this fmmW
nation declaring 53 cents worth of silver - | H
ver to be a dollar ? B
Ans. No. Prices are fixed by trusts | H
for but a brief time. Cost determines m\\
price. When the two metals were at a H
parity before at 15 % to 1 , Germany H
and Austria were on a silver basis , the H
mints of India were open , and the H
Latin union and the United States were H
bimetallic. By and by silver began to H
be mined at less cost , better processes H
struck richer veins of ore and the price H
of silver fell. We cannot keep butter H
in the relation to calico which it bore m
50 years ago. We remember when H
butter was at 5 to las compared with . 1
calico ; but to-day calico is at 5 to 1 as * |
compared with butter. The changed < H
ratio of butter to calico is due not to i ' H
the gold bug , but to the fact that the H
• labor of man now has more to do with H
producing a pound of butter than with H
producing a yard of calico. Steam j H
and water power now weave cloth , but H
they can't weave cows. But the decline - H
cline in the cost of silver and in the
m
price of silver , making it a more bulky t H
value-backing for currency , has been • / H
accompanied by the alienation of the H
bulkier metal by European nations -i& mW
who persist , despite the efforts of the 1
United States to promote a larger ? f M
monetary use of silver. Not only England - ' _ B
land , but France , Germany and Austria - H
tria have gone to gold. The Indian C/ |
Sonnd Sense About Sound Money. H
No matter how sound our money may B
be it will not conduce to our prosperity - |
ity so long as its principal mission is |
to pay the foreign manufacturers for |
goods that ought to have been manu- j H
factured in our own country ; so lon < tmmW
as the chief avenue of its expenditure maW
points away from instead of towards / |
home. Four years ago our money -sras p |
also active. It paid to American worn- * H
ingnien the highest average wage they |
bad ever received ; it kept our indua- H
tries busy turning out the largest pro- L\\ \
duction they had ever known ; it moved |
the wheels of commerce in all directions - |
tions , caused the largest known con- L\\
sumption of the products of our farms Land \ \
and , in short , brought to every legitimate - \ |
mate interest in the United States a WmM
degree of prosperity without previous mmm
parallel. This it did because It was Sm\m\ \
backed by systematic and uniform pro'i ImM
tc-ction. We need to get back those fa- * 1 1
vorable conditions. We shall not ba ' 1
prosperous until we do. Tbe Soranton timmmM
( Pa. ) Tribune , July 29 , 1395. 1 1
