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' " ^ XsSwi? SEMI-WEEKL^ l. m. grist & sons, Publishers, j % ^nmilj JJemspaper: j[or the promotion of the jpotitiral, Social, Agricultural, ami (tommeijrial Jiiterests of the people. {m"ss,^ti#2oiT* nra c??^,ICE' "established 18557 YORKYILLE. S. C., WEDNESDAY, JTJLY 11, 1900. ]SJ"0. 5sT gniiiiiiHiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii || MALCOI 11 A Tale of Moral Heroism { BY CHARLES EE = Author of "In His Steps," "Crucif == == Hardy's Se\ OOPTIUOHT, 1900, BY THE / illlllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll mwArationsbvl nlllll!llllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll!llllllllllllllll!lllll CHAPTER VII*. THE ANGEL OF DEATH. I Nearly three years after Malcom J Kirk and his wife had made their 1 promise in the little Home Missionary < church of Conrad, one evening in Sep- ' tember, a stranger stepped out of the ] east bound Chicago express upon the J platform at Conrad and inquired for 1 ithe residence of the llev. Malcom Kirk. < "He lives up by the church," said the 1 man to whom the question was put. 1 "Come out to the end of the platform 1 and I'll show you." 1 The stranger followed, and the man "i pointed up the street where the tower of the little church could be seen. i "You'll find him in the parsonage close by at the right of the church." I The stranger thanked him and start- i ed down the platform steps, when the ' man called after him: "They're having trouble at the min- 1 lster's house. I thought if you didn't i know I ought to tell you. They have 1 a very sick baby there." 1 The stranger paused and looked un- I certainly at the man. ? "I won't go there, then, if I ought 1 not I am one of Mr. Kirk's old semi- < nary classmates. I stopped off on my < way home from Colorado, where I have been taking my vacation. Per- i haps I had better not call there tonight. I didn't know of his trouble. < Do you know how sick the baby Is?" 1 "No. It's serious. The doctor has 1 ^ been there nearly all day." < The stranger hesitated and finally 1 moved on toward the parsonage. I "I will simply stop and inquire at i the house and then go to the hotel," I he said to himself. 11 When he knocked at the little parson- ; age, Dorothy herself opened the door. "This is Mrs. Kirk? I am Mr. Wilson, one of Mr. Kirk's classmates at i Hermon. You remember me? I was on my way from Colorado and stopped off to see him. I only just heard of the Illness of your baby. I"? i ? "Come In, Mr. Wilson. I know Mai- 1 com will want to see you," she said, . and he entered with some reluctance 1 to intrude at such a time, but her man- i ner assured him that his presence was ; grateful to them. < Three years bad made some changes i in Dorothy. She was very beautiful 1 still, and there was something more in ] the face which God's children always i have after trial and suffering have purged the life within. Wilson noted in a glance the simple furnishings of the room, the unmistakable sign of < economy. 1 He was struck also with the pro- i found atmosphere of the first great trouble that had come Into this wo- i man's home. It was so positive that he felt unable to say anything commonplace by way of sympathy. In the next room Malcom Kirk was walking up and down with his baby in ( his arms. The day had been very hot, * and the upper chambers of the little house were stifling. The Rev. George Wilson will never , forget that sight this side the deathless paradise that all of the redeemed shall ; It was the first time he had broken down in the presence o) Dorothy. some time enjoy. When Malcom Kirk turned and came toward the door 1 where his wife and Wilson were stand- i lng, bis classmate saw on his face a 1 Irt/ilr r\P u*li IrtVi f Krt p + i?/\nr* 1UUIV Vi OUUCi >1 111V.U LUC OLlUU^i homely, marked features emphasized. 1 For three weeks he had hardly closed his eyes. i He had prayed, his wife beside him, ' every night on his knees by the little i crib that their firstborn son might be spared to them. But tonight, as the baby lay In his arms, he knew that the loving Father had some great reasou unknown to them for taking to himself this bit of humanity that for a few months had made the little parsonage on the prairie the very garden spot of all the world to them. Dorothy, without a word, took the baby from ber husband, and he, without a word, clasped his old classmate's hand, and the men stood there a moment praying. "It's you, George?" said Kirk. "It seems good to see your face. We"? Malcom Kirk sat down and buried his face In bis great hands and sobbed. It was the first time he had broken down in the presence ot Dorothy. The wiBiiiiiiiiiiiiiniiiiiinnmiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii 1 iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii^i [ l/I KIRK. || i In Overcoming the World. 11 J M. SHELDON, j| I lxiou of Philip Strong'," "Robert = EE v 'en Pays." = = f LDVANCT publisotnq co. = EE * Icrman Ileyer. ||||||||||||||!lllllllllllllllllllll!tl | t E t sight of his* old classmate had revived a his Hermon memories. He saw again j, the old campus. Its great avenues of r elms, the noble landscape of bills and >] woods, uorotny s uorne across iuc cam- ji pus, his own dingy little room, his love E for the woman who now was sharing v this great trouble with him. And he ^ cried without attempt at concealment, t for his heart was sore at the coming s loss of tie baby out of a home where g God himself had blessed the love of a e man and wife as rarely In human lives j it has been blessed. c Finally he lifted up his face ajid p spoke calmly: o "We've hoped all along, of course, but the long continued heat has been 1< against his recovery. It's hard to part f with the little fellow. See"? Malcom n Kirk rose and took the baby again a from his wife, while Dorothy sat down ii near a table and laid her beautiful n head on her arms, but still she was t without a tear. "See, the little fellow Bmiles at me still." a The baby opened his eyes, looked up t Into Malcom Kirk's gaunt, agonized t countenance, and a faint light went t over its face. h "Malcom, oh, Malcom!" cried Dorothy. "1 can't endure it!" a It was the first protest that had es- b caped her. Like him, the presence of a this friend from the old loved place in t the east had stirred her heart, and 11 even as she cried aloud in her anguish fi the pent up tears came, and she cried d In sobs that rent her husband's heart even more than the baby's sad smile. Wilson choked as he rose to go and said: "Kirk, may God bless and help you at this time. I would stay and watch with you or help in any way"? "No; it will not be necessary. The neighbors and church people have been very kind to us. No one can do any more." He went away to the hotel, promising to come in the morning to inquire, and the night grew on fbr Malcom and Dorothy. The doctor came in, a few of the most intimate church members also, but no one could do any more, and Malcom Kirk held the baby with a tenderness that relieved its suffering, for they had not been able to place its body in a restful position on a bed, and it had grown used to its cradle of lcug, strong arms. It was toward morning, when no one was in the room except Malcom aud ' Dorothy, that the baby died. It seemed to these two as they watched it go that their hearts broke, and the world turned black and empty before them t when the last breath was drawn by i! that frail, trembling body. For a little while Malcom held him. Then he laid \ the body down on a couch, and, kneel- a Ing there with his arms about his a wife, he joined with her in a moment <] of unspeakable anguish for the death <of their firstborn. c The sun came up dry and red, the t heat of another day began to pour in- c to the little room, and it seemed to the <3 bereaved parents as if the earth was a great, dry, burned out wilderness. The e neighbors called. Wilson came, and v his presence and silent sympathy were t a blessing to Malcom and Dorothy. r But when, later in the day, the baby a had been laid in the little coffin and t placed in the center of the room with j a bunch of white geraniums on its s breast brought in by the members of t Dorothy's primary Sunday school class i Dorothy laid her head down on the a table beside the casket, and her grief t was very, very great. Malcom stood r beside her, looking hungrily at his \ baby's face, and the people In the lit- ^ tie room quietly went out and left t them alone for awhile. Next day Wilson read the funeral 6 service and prayed at the house, aud ^ after the simple service a little com- ^ pauy went with Malcom aud Dorothy t to the cemetery just on the edge of the ^ town, and the baby was buried there, i and these children of the All Father ^ went back to the little parsonage. j It was a great blessing to them at ^ this time that Wilson was with them, t He, seeing how they clung to his pres- c ence, staid over Sunday and preached c for Malcom. It was during this stay that he learned something of what c Malcom and Dorothy had been doing. ? A short extract from a letter written t by him to his wife In the east will ^ show us something of the first three 6 years of Malcom Kirk and his wife's t attempt to make good their pledge to t help redeem the lives of the Deople of c Conrad: 1 "I cannot tell you what a profound s sense of sympathy I have felt for my s old classmate and his wife during their great trouble, but I am simply aston- t lshed to find how great a work they \ nave uoue in uie uiree yeuis 11117 u.nc been here. This is a place of about s 2,(KM) people. It is having a boom at t the present time, s "The agitation over the saloon is In- I creasing, and I am told by Kirk and \ others that tilings are nearing a crisis r and in all likelihood the next legisla- t ture will pass a prohibitory amend- f meut. The liquor men laugh at this r probability and scout the idea that such a law can ever be passed. There are I ten saloons here in Conrad and all apparently flourishing. Among other things that the whisky element has at- I tempted during Kirk's stay here has r been to antagonize the business men in his church against Kirk with some t success. Kirk's wife has been a great { telp to him. T tliink r never knew a nore happy union of workers in all my ife. She has been the organist and he loader In Sunday school work, and ler social influence in the town Is very trong. The churth membership has ;rown from forty odd to over a hunired. and Kirk has managed to gain a told on a large group of young men, I hink largely on account of their ad niration for his unusual muscular deelopment. 1 think It is probably true rom what I feel and hear that already he influence of Kirk and his wife and heir little church in this wild western own Is the strongest Influence that ver entered the place. They are very aucb broken up by the loss of their iaby. It has been a tremendous dis ppUIlllUieiiL IU tucuj. 1 aui V CI j auA dus for thein, as I think of what the esult may be on their future work. ?he pay of a Home Missionary out here 5 small, and for some reason Kirk has tot been able to make much with his eritlng. I cannot help asking myself iow the loss of their baby will affect heir whole work here. Mrs. Kirk eems to be stunned by the blow. I hall leave here Monday, and my greatst regret is that 1 cannot be of more lelp to ray old classmate. He is at a rlsis in his career, and everything deends on the way he accepts this death f his baby." This is only a fragment of Wilson's stter, but the number of times he reerred to the death of the baby as aarking a crisis in the lives of Malcom nd Dorothy revealed the depth of the inpression made upon his mind by the aanner in which they were affected by heir loss. He went away on the morning train, nd Malcom, who had gone to the staion to see him off, came slowly back o the parsonage and went into the litle room next the kitchen which he ad fitted up for a study. Dorothy was at work in the kitchen, nd Malcom sat down at his study tale and looked out of the window cross the prairie. It was unfortunate hat from that window he could see the Ittle cemetery in the distance. He inally rose and drew the curtain clear lown and went back to his desk. He The death ol the firstborn. ook up bis pen and dipped it in the ak and then sat there, thinking, thinkug, of his baby. He recalled every ittle look, its smile, its new habits, dded day by day. His heart swelled t the thought of all that he had Ireamed for his boy's future. Was Jod good? Was it true, this gospel of omfort he had been preaching these hree years? Why, then, was he not omforted? The baby had died Thurslay night. Three days now, and yet the world xpccted him to go on with his work, vrite sermons, make calls, attend to he thousand little details that must be emcmbered or some one would notice nd begin to complain. How could he ake up the burden of life and carry t? How could he regain his old enthuiasm or help Dorothy? Were they lot both smitten to the dust by this leart loss? He found himself saying 11 ^1- t~ 1 IP nalrlnrr Ill llllS 11 Liu evcu uau icauuii; uoaiug timself If Dorothy had not made a uistake to share her life with him. Vhat could he offer her? What career vas possible for them now In this title place? The ink had dried on his pen, and he at there holding it, unable to write a vord. Dorothy had gone out to the veil. and when he missed her step In he kitchen and glanced out of the vindow to see her she was sitting on a >ench he had built under the cottonvood in the yard, the only tree on the )loce. She had left her pail at the veil and sat there looking off toward he little knoll which he had shut out if his sight when he drew down his lurtain. He sat down with a groan, and for l moment the world seemed utterly impty and useless to him. He had sat here for a long time, feeling all the vlille that Ills place was by his wife's ilde to comfort her, but hesitating for he first time since their marriage as 0 the right thing to do or say, when 1 knock at the door roused him. He mew some one must have knocked ;everal times. He went through the ilttiug room and opened the door. A little old woman stood close up to he door, and a farm wagon and horse vere out in front of the fence. "You don't remember me, Mr. Kirk?" mid the little woman in a voice so *- 1 \fnlnnm n*na In. Hill UliU IWUW lUttl 4UU.VVU4 ... itantly reminded of a call he had made a the spriDg on a family living on vhat was called "The Forks," eight niles from Conrad, In a very desolate avine between two ridges of land that orroed almost the only hill country for niles around. "Yes, 1 do," he replied. "It Is Mrs. 3arton, isn't It?" The woman's face lighted up fJUntly. "Yes, and I'm In trouble, great trou* )le, Mr. Kirk, and I want you to help no." Malcom stared nt the shabby, dusty, vornout figure, and instantly It flashed Into him. that she had probably.not Hear'"I yet that his baby was dead. Her next words told him that was the fact "I've come straight here from home. My boy. Mr. Kirk, have you seen him? He left the farm Saturday with the double team and a load of bay. I haven't seen him since. 1 know he Is In some 6aloon, drinking or drunk, and the money for the hay all spent Oh, Mr. Kirk, for God's sake help me to find him and get him home again 1 For the love of your own baby that you expect to grow up Into a good Christian man to comfort and bless you help me to get my boy out of this hell and save him, for my heart Is broken when I think of how he was once as Innocent and happy as your own baby." TO BE CONTINUED. PtettUiuiMuss Reading. THE NOMINATION OP BRYAN. A Graphic Description of the Scene at Kansas City. Atlanta Journal, Friday. William Jenuings Bryan, of Nebras ka, was unanimously nominated for president of the United States by the Democratic national convention at 9 o'clock last uight. The nomination, expected in the late afternoon, came as a culminating climax to a day full of exciting and dramatic incidents. For five aud a half hours after the noon recess, the 22,000 people in the big auditorium remained in a continuous session, u bile.demonstration after demonstration so frenzied the immense throng with enthusiasm that, tired and exhausted at last, men and women yielded to their emotions and wept under the spell of the occasion. No such scene was ever witnessed before. Political history does not record such a convention. The Chicago conveution of 1896, when William J. Bryan first leaped to the head of his party by the eloquent MRS. WILLIAM J climax of a powerful speech, was as a lamb compared to a liou. The great Cleveland convention of 1884, when thousauds were mad with enthusiasm over the newly discovered leader; was as the ordinary current compared to Niagara. The first McKinley convention at St. Louis and the recent convention at Philadelphia were as gales compared to the terrific tornado that sweeps everything in its wake. Eveu the splendid oration of Bourke Cockran in 1892 failed to shake the oonveution irorn wnuneys grasp; but here the chairman has been unable to control, and a number of times yesterday he was forced to let the storm subside by its owu exhaustion. For six hours the great convention hall trembled under the enthusiasm of a united party. In all former conventions, in the moments of greatest exultation, there huve been standards on the convention floor uubending to the popular breezes; but here the ovations have been almost continuous and the whirl wind of enthusiasm has corralled every faction, every man, under the folds of the Americun flag and around its staff of liberty. The flag of the republic has been made aud declared the issue of the battle, aud upon this issue 40,000 Democrats will leave Kuusas City tonight and tomorrow enthused with the hope of victory in November. The morning session yesterday was devoted to oratory, most of it conservative and conciliatory. When the gavel fell shortly after 3.30 in the afternoon, the platform , committee made its report. It was read by Senator Tillman, of South . Carolina, with a voice that reached every ear in the building. A reconciliation of the two factions in tlie , committee had been reached, everybody was satisfied, and but lew expected tbe demonstration that followed. The statemeut, earnest, emphatic and twice repeated by the reader, that imperialism should he , made the predominant issue of the campaign, was the spark that electrified the convention. In three seconds every delegate and alternate was on : his feet. Ten secouds more and to the 2,000 people on the arena floor, who were standing, were added 18,000 in the galleries, who bad been caught in the patriotic enthusiasm. There was no way to give expression to feeling save by cheering and waving hats, parasols, umbrellas, fans and papers. On the main floor the members of the various delegations seized the standards of their slates and lifted them highiu the air. These standards were the magician's wands which brought a transformation of which no master of ancient black art ever dreamed. From every part of that vast hall, crowded as it never was in Wo nr now Hnvn lonnod flnirR. not. no Viu V. "Vfi ?J 0~l ten Dor fifty, not a hundred ; but flag9 by the thousands. Every delegate on the floor had the stars and stripes, and he stood up and waved them. For a moment one could look down upon the press platform and see the newspaper workers buried beneath fluttering banners. The 20,000 people in the galleries joined in the demonstration. "America," "Dixie," "Yankee Doodle," "The Blue aud Gray," floated from the band stand. The convention was wild and the chairman rapped in vaiu. Men and women screamed, others sang, aud around the pit the delegates marched, lost in a patriotic fervor. And then came the climax. From the steel girders was unfurled a massive flag, 100 feel in length, which reached to the floor. "Republic Forever ; Empire Never" it spoke in its reverential, silence and again the convention was hurled into a paroxysm of enthusiasm. The 'demonstration lasted for 19 minutes. Senator Tillman continued to read. When the money plank was reiterated the applause was deafening ; but there was no floor demonstration. The contrast spoke the sentiment of the convention. Imperialism is the issue. Then there was a speech from Webster Davis, ex-assistant secretary of the interior under McKinley, de ENNINGS BRYAN. nouncing the Republican party and declaring his allegiance to the Democratic. Again the convention went wild. The standard of Missouri was over his head, and while the band 1 ./TIM T *f.. played- "I'll ijeave my uvuj& For You," the Missouri delegation carried the convert around on their shoulders. The convention danced in its enthusiasm. Following the Davis incident, came the nomination for president. Oldham, the Nebraska orator, stepped upon the platform. His speech was lengthy and lacking in eloquence ; but tbe name of William J. Bryau again electrified, and the demonstration that followed continued for 29 minutes. There was nothing new in the ovation ; but it was heartfelt, earnest, emotional. The standards were stacked on the bust of the popular idol while the great throng shouted until they were hoarse and exhausted. The next demonstration was when Hill, of New York, seconded the nomination of Bryan. He appealed for a united Democracy and declared the platform was big enough and strong enough for every man claiming to be a Democrat to stand upon. He could not be heard for the cheering. He wus pronounced by popular will the second idol of the convention, and when he finished hundreds rushed to him, entreating him to accept a place on the ticket. It was already a stampede for the New Yorker ; but to all he shook his bead. "I shall support tbe ticket with all my heart. I shall work for it, and I promise you that New York shall be in the Democratic columu," he told me while the noise was yet deafening. "But I am not a candidate before this convention." Then came Senator John W. Daniels, the Virginia orator, who fought all night tor a simple re-affirmation of the Chicugo platform. He declared the scene a party love feast and was given a tremendous ovation. Then a dozen orators of indiffierent merit seconded the nomination and it was 9 o'clock before the unanimous nomination of Bryan was made by a rollcall of the states. The convention, already exhausted, began again the demonstration, which was interrupted by au adjournment until today. It had been the programme to finish the business and adjourn sine die last nigbt; but the many unlooked fot nominating speeches made this impossible. NOMINEE FOR VICE PRESIDENT. How the Convention Came Near Relni Stampeded to Hill. rne vice-presiaennai uumiuauuu m Kansas Cily was, as indicated in the dispatch published in the last issue ol The Enquirer. A short time after the paper was issued, there came another dispatch announcing the nomination of Stevenson on the first ballot. Counected with the vice-presidential nomination, there developed an in tensely interesting incident. Mr. Brydavid b. hill. an and his immediate lieutenants were in favor of the nomination of Towne, the Populist nominee; but were not exactly insistent upon the idea. There were a number of other announced candidates for the position. David B. Hill went to the convention under a cloud. It will be remembered that he sulked in bis tent four years ago, and the party has felt more or less resentment against him everj since. He was at outs with Croker. the acknowledged leader of the New York delegation, and on account ol this quarrel was defeated in his effortf to represent New York state on the platform committee. Notwithstanding the cloud, however. Hill was still immensely popular with the convention, and when he made hi: speech seconding the nomiuatiou ol Bryan, he aroused the most intense enthusiasm. In fact the convention warmed to him in a way that indicated a willingness to do for him wbatevei he might wish. It had been commonly suggested that Hill desired the vice presidential nomination, and there were evidencet that Croker believed this to be the fact Croker and his lieutenants did what they could ugaiust the boom that they thought Hill was working up ; but af ter the speech of Thursday night tht feeling of the convention was too pro nounced to admit further doubt, auil Croker and bis crowd arranged a plau to nominate Hill and back him with the entire New York delegation. Becoming cognizant of the plan ol the New Yorkers, Hill begged them tc desist, and at last gave them to uuderstand that if they should succeed he would decline. But it was all in vain. Croker and his lieutenants persisted. Delaware yielded its place on the roll to New York, and Grady, of that delegation nominated Hill, arousing en thusiasm second only to that which bad followed the nomination of Bryaj, During Grady's speech Hill sat near by protesting. His face was as white as a sheet, and be perspired freely. It was an anxious moment for a man who was trying to escape such a nomination as that under any circumstances. He said that the action of the New York- delegation was unfair. While the delegation were shouting for him like mad, Croker and other political enemies came up, took his bands and begged him to accept. They assured him be dare not decline. Hill consulted with Chairman Jones and asked for his help. Jones advised Hill to make a speech declining the JAMES K. JONES. All the talk to the contrary, Senator James K. Jones, of Arkansas, has again been chosen, as chairman of the national Democratic executive committee. Domination, and promised to see the leaders of the different delegations, if necessary. When Grady had concluded, Hill spoke as follows: "Mr. President and gentlemen of the convention : (Great applause.) While I greatly appreciate the action of the delegation from New York, it is proper for me to say that it is without my approval. (Cries of no, no.) I appreciate also the manifestations of friendliness on the part of delegates from other states ; but I feel that it is my duty to rise here and now and say to you that, for personal reasons and good and valid reasous, I cannot accept this nomination. (Great applause and cries ; of "No, no," and "You have got to s take it.") I have not been a candidi ate. I do not desire to be a candidate, * and I must not. be nominated by this convention. (Renewed applause and cheering and cries of "You must, you must.") . "There are gentlemen present whose names have been or will be presented r to this convention, any one of which names is stronger than my own (Cries t of "No, no.") There is no difficulty t whatever with making a satisfactory f choice and I must not in justice to them, permit my name to be used a single moment further, and this con. vention should proceed to nominate a ; candidate from some of those who have been named. In justice to me, in jusI tice to them, in justice to the party, in justice to the ordinary proceedure of . this convention, it is unfair to me to place me in this position without my consent." (Great applause.) Tli a A nnt linllstt taaaiilf a/1 Q^nifan oan iuc Lii at uanui icouiiuu gtcvcuauu 559$ ; Hill 200; Towne 89$. This was before any changes were made. Speedy changes gave Stevenson the necessary two-thirds, and upon motion of Senator Tillman, who represented the Towne movement, the nomination of Stevenson was made unanimous. JAPAN'S STRENGTH IN ASIA. It Is Great and Growing and Is Favorable to This Nation's Interest. Cleveland Leader. The stirring events reported from * China in the last few weeks have not only shown that the Japanese victories in the war which broke down the prestige of the Chinese Empire, were won over a foe capable of making trouble for first-rate European troops ; but that Japan has been for some time the strongest power in eastern Asia, at , least under the conditions which would exist in the first months of a war with any possible foe. In a double sense , the military position of the Japanese has been strengthened and their credit as a fighting people has been raised in the estimation of the great powers of Europe. The efforts put forth by all the na, lions which have taken part in the , campaign for the restoration of order and safety for foreigners in the vicini| ty of Pekin, have shown that Japan p bad by far the greatest number of 5 soldiers in reach of the scene of the , trouble. The only other power that had been supposed to stand on anything like even terms with the Japan| ese, in readiness for heavy work on , land, is Russia, and the object lessons p of the present month have shown that , Russia could not gel into the field half , so many men, ou short . notice, in ^ I Eastern Asia, as were at the disposal . of the Mikado's generals. On the sea the Japanese made so good a showing that it is fair to pre[ sume that with their advantages of } shipyards, including dockyards, re cruits for crews, coaling depots, and heavily fortified base'i of operations, they are stronger than England and much moge than equal to Russia, , That means, of course, for the first weeks of a war. When time enough I elapsed to let the strongest naval pow, era of the west get their strength into j Chinese or Japanese waters, the navy of Japun would be overmatched by f that of Great Britain, France, Russia, , or the United States, and even by the . German fleet, but time would be re, quired to place the Japanese at such a disadvantage. For some weeks they would be too strong, in their own waI tera, for any single European power. Thi9 conclusion presumes that the . soldiers and seamen of Japan would prove equal to the fighting men of the foremost nations of Europe, when . numbers were about alike on both , sides. It seems a fair inference from records made in battles with the Cbi, nese and from all the signs of equality which can be observed in time of peace. The Chinese have good reasons to believe that the Japanese are as formid, able as any white troops. In the broadest international sense this increased prestige of Japan i9 favorable to the interests of the United States in eastern Asia. The Japanese are our friends. They have long felt i peculiarly cordial toward the American republic. They do not fear , schemes of spoilation in dealing with the United States. Besides they are a maritime power, as compared with Russia in Asia. Their interests are akin to those of the United States and Great Britain. They hope for free access to Chinese markets and for the encouragement of maritime commerce. They fear the effect of Russian aggression in China, just as American and Rritish susnicions are aroused bv the encroachments of the Czar's government upon Chinese territory and Chinese rights. The stronger Japan's navy becomes, therefore, the less trouble this country and Great Britain will be likely to experience in preserving all treaty rights and all accustomed freedom of action in Chinese territory. For the purposes of diplomacy and statesmanship in Eastern Asia, Japan is about equivalent to an Auglo-Saxou power in that portion of the world. The importance of this fact may be demou strated, in the most impressive man- ' _ ner, at almost any time. Take the Tombstone Along.? _ The cemetery sperintendents say that there Is one peculiarity about the funerals of Chinamen which is never noticed at any other funerals. The tombstone always comes along with the funeral. Most of the tombstones are simple slabs of marble, with the Inscription In Chinese characters, ?? ?rv an/1 Hnwn in wuicu are uriaugcu up cuv. stead of across the stone. In two or three Instances the funerals of Chinamen have been known to be delayed because the friends of the man who was to be burled were waiting for the tombstone to be finished. The stone Is always taken to the cemetery in the undertaker's wagon.?Baltimore Sun.