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I i SKMI-WEEKX,^ l. m. grist s sons, Pubii.her., [ $ 4amil8 3>?spapei;: ^or the promotion of the political, Social, Agricultural and Commercial -Interests of the people. { w?.'"ve'ce5,T" ESTABLISHED 1855." ' ' YORKVJLLE, S. C- TUESDAY, DECEMBER 13, 19K>. NO, 99. *?+A R*+A **+ A **+A W**A WJ S .FOflTC/M 4 Novelized by L ? t From the Play S ? by Win I 1 Copyright 1910. by Winchell J *?+A **+A K&+A ?$+A *&+A *2 CHAPTER XI. She was scrubbing blindly at tb same glass when a quarter of an hoi later, Blinky Lockwood strode int the store, his right eye twitching moi vlntantlv than usual, as it always dot , in his phases of mental disturbanceas when, for instance, he fears he going to lose a dollar. Lockwood is that type of man \vh was born to rtow rich. In person he is as beautiful as r snake fence, as alluring as a stor wall. Something over six feet i height, he walks with a stoop, or hand always in a trousers pocket jir gling silver, that materially detracl from his stature. His face, like hi figure, is gaunt and lanky, his nose a emaciated beak. His mouth illustrate his attitude toward property?is a tra from which nothing of value ever es capes. His eyes are small and har and set close together under lowerin I brows. He's grizzled, with hair nc actually white, but gray as the iro jhk^s n^ 9 9 I - j^B ^BJpf^v:|l> ^ BLINK k LOCK WooI> from which his heart was fashionet Aside from these characteristics, hi principal peculiarity is a nervou twitching of the right eye which ha earned him his sobriquet of Blinkj I^egrand Gunn said he contracted th affliction through squinting at the sil ver dollar to make sure none of it milling had been worn off. 1 hav never known the man to wear anythin but a rusty old frock coat, black, ci course, and black and shiny broad cloth trousers, with a hat that has al ways a coating of dust so thick that i seems a mottled gray. He grunts his words, a grunt to eacl Tie grunted at Betty when he saw hei "Where's your father?" She put down her glass and disli ra? "I don't know, sir." "Don't know, eh?" he asked in a indescribably offensive tone. "I think he went to the bank to se f you." "Oh, he did, eh? Did he have any thing for me?" The girl took up another glass. " don't know, sir," she said wearilj "I'm afraid not." "Well, if he didn't there's no us seein' me. It won't do him any good. "I guess he knows that," she return ed. with a little Hash of spirit. "Does, eh? Well, that's a good thin ?saves talk. You don't do no busines hero, not to speak of, do ye?" "No, not to speak of." "Then what's the pood of all thi foolishness, fixin' up?" "I don't know." "Costs money, don't it?" "I guess so." "And that money belongs to me." "It's Mr. Duncan's doing. Fathe ain't paying for it. He can't." "What's he doin'. then? Sittii s "i'm akkaid not." she said round foolin' with his inventions, ain he?" "Yes." "What's he invent in' now?" "I don't know much about it." Sh pointed to the model beneath the win dow. "That's the last thing. I guess. Fllinky snorted and stamped over t the window stooning to neer at til machine. "What's the ?ood <if that'.' he demanded, disdainful, and wit hot: waiting: for her response went on nag giutf. "Foolishness! That's what it i: Why don't you tell him not to wast his time this way?" "Reeause he likes it." said Rett hopelessly. "It's the only thintr ths makes life worth while to him. So let him alone." What difference does that make? 1 don't bring him in nothin'. does it *+A ?*+ A **+A **+A W*+A ??3 P H E ... f a E HUNTER. I \ 2 ouis Joseph Vance % of the Same Name x * chel Smith t f ii Smith and Louis Joseph Vance. $ t +A *$*A ??+A ?<5*A ***A ***A 'fe h No, siree, it don't. What does he do h le with them thing*?" E ir "Patents them." ;o "And then what?" d e "Nothin' that I know of." h 's "That's it?nothin', nor ever will, a ? Well, he's heen gettin' money from e 's me for those patents. I thought at a fust there might he somethin' in 'em. t! iO But he won't any more." e; She interjected a significant "Huh!" o a He broke off abruptly, pale with anger, d ie "Well, I want to see him, and I want u n to see him before noon," he snapped, e ie "I'm goin* over to the bank, an' if he d i- knows what's good for him he'll come a ts there pretty darn quick." Is He swung on one heel and slouched ? n out as Betty turned to go upstairs. Ij s Presently she reappeared, pinning on si P her sad little hat, and left the store. E i- It was upward of an hour before she o d returned, walking quickly and very b g erect with her head up and shoulders >t hack, her eyes suspiciously bright, h n Even old Sam, who had returned from it the depot after missing Blinky at the A bank?even he, blind as he ordinarily g was. saw instantly that something n was wrong with the child. "Why, Betty," he cried in solicitude as she flung into the store?"Bet- e ty, dear, what's the matter?" v For an instant she seemed speech- b less. Then she tore the hat from he, tl head and cast it regardlessly upon the J counter. "Father," she cried?"father," and gulped to down her emotion. "Can you get me some money?" "Money? Why, Betty, what"? Her foot came down on the floor impatiently. "Can you get me some . money?" she repeated in a breath. I "Well?er?how much, Betty?" He tried to touch her, to take her to his arms, but she moved away, her sorry little figure quivering from head to feet. "Enough," she said, half sobbing? "enough to buy a dress?a nice dress? a dress that will surprise folks"? ' "But tell me what the matter is. Betty. Wanting a dres would never upset you like this." She whipped the cracked and crumpled card from her pocket and pushed it into his hand. "Look at that!" she bade him and turned away, struggling with all her might to keen back the tears. He read, his old face softening. "Josie Lockwood's party, - eh? And she's sent you an invitation. Well, that was kind of her, very kind." She swung upon him in a fury. "No, n it was not kind. It was mean! It was a mean!" "Oh. Betty," he begged in consterna- 0 j tion, "don't say that. I'm sure"? g "Oh, you don't know! I heard the ^ lS girls talkin' in the postofflce?Angie w s Tuthill and Mame Garrison and Bessie r< Gabriel. I was round by the boxes a where they couldn't see me, but I could & _ hear them, and they were laughin' beg 3 B I 1 A w wJHH i* -^ 1 h JWgWH ranKjH^ i i ai ? "NOW DON T 8AV THAT." S .., 8 cause I was invited. They said the s< reason Josie did it was because she n knew I didn't have anything to wear, h s and she wanted to hear what excuse oi I'd make for not groin'. Ah, I heard jr them!" si "Oh, hut Hetty. Betty," he pleaded, si "don't you mind what they say. n Don't"? oi r I . , u..,.. ? "15111 I U<> 111111(1 , 1 ( Clll I I1CIJI lliliiuill II They're mean." She paused, her fea- y( 1 tares hardening. "I'm goin' t?? that w party," she declared tensely: "I'm goin' a to that party, and?and I'm goin' to b have a dress to go in too! I don't In care what I do?I'm goin' to have that si dress!" la Sam would have soothed her as host he might, hut she would neither look qi at nor come near him. She turned on him, exasperated he- p yond thought. "That only means you y can't help me!" o "Oh. no. it doesn't. I'll do what I ei can. "Have you got any inonev now?" li He hung his head to avoid her hlaz- si ing eyes. "Well?no?not at present, u l?ut here's this new stock and"? "That doesn't mean anything, and h you know it. You owe that note to r< Mr. Lock wood, don't you? And you tl can't pay it." p "Not today. Hetty, hut he'll give me d 't a little more time, I'm sure. lie's ft kind, very kind." "You don't know him. He's as mean ?as mean as dirt?as mean as Josie." "| io "Hetty!" a i- "Then if you did get any money h " you'd have to give it to him, wouldn't I 0 you?" e< ie "Yes. hut I'm sure? I think it'll come all right." y it "Ah. what's tin- use of talkiu' that way? What's the use of talkiu' at h s. all? I know you can't do anything for a e me, and so do you!" Sam had dropped into his chair, tin- si y aide to stand before this storm; he it stared now, mute with amazement, at h 1 this child who had so long, so uu- <? eomplainingly. shared his poverty and It privations, grown suddenly to the stat- D ? tire of a woman--and a tormented. assionate woman, stung: to the quick >y the injustice of her lot. He put out hand in a feeble gesture of placaion, but she brushed it away as she ent toward him, speaking so quickly hat her words stumbled and ran into >ne another. "I can't understand it!" she raged. Why is it that I have to be more habby than any other girl in town? Vhy is it that the others have all the un and I all the drudgery? Why is t that I can't ever go anywhere with he boys and girls and laugh and?and lave a good time like the rest do?" Sam bent his head to the blast. In lis lap his hands worked nervously, tut he could not answer her. "It ain't that I mind the eookin' and oin' the housework and?all the rest? ut?why is it you can never give me nything at all? Why must it be that very one looks down on us and sneers nd laughs at us? Why is It that half he time we haven't got enough to at? Other men manage to take care f their families and give their ehilren things to wear. You've got only s two to look after, and you can't ven do that. It isn't right, it isn't ecent, and if I were you I'd be shamed of myself? Her temper had sj>ent itself, and ith this final cry she checked abrupt;, with a catch at her breath for hame of what she had let herself say. ;ut, childlike, she was not ready to wn her sorrow, and she turned her ack, trembling. Sam, too, was shaken. In his heart e knew there was justification for her idictment, truth in what she had said, nd he was heartbroken for her. He ot up unsteadily and put a gentle and upon her shoulder. "Why, Betty?I"? A dry sob interrupted him. He pulld himself together and forced his oice to a tone of confidence. "Just e a little patient, dear. I'm sure flings will be better with us soon, ust a. little more patience; that's all. 'it's oood of yoc, my boy.'' Thy, there war a gentleman here this lorning from Noo York city talkin' bout an Invention of mine." The girl moved restlessly, shaking ff his hand. "Invention!" she echoed itterly. "Oh. father! Everybody nows they're no good! You've been astin' time on 'em ever since I can 'member, and you've never made a ollar out of one vet." He bowed to the truth of this, then gain braced up bravely. "But this entleman seemed quite interested, [e's over to the Bigelow House now. think I'll step over and have a talk 'ith him"? "You'd much better go and have a ilk with Blinky Lockwood," she told im brutally. "He's waitin' for you at te bank and said he wasn't go in' to ait after 12 o'clock neither!" "Well, perhaps you're right. I'll go lere. It's after 12, but"? He start:I to get his hat and stopped with an sola mat ion. "Why, Nat! I didn't now you'd got back!" Duncan was at the back of the store learing the last remnants of the old ock from the shelves. "Yes," he said leasantly, without turning, "I've been ere some time cleaning up the cellar make room for the stuff that's comig in. I came upstairs just a moment go, but you were so busy talking you idn't notice me." He paused, swept the empty shelves ith a calculating glance and came ut around the end of the counter. Everything's in tiptop shape," he said. I checked up the bill of lading mydf, and there's not a thing missing, r?t a bit of breakage. Mr. Graham," e continued, dropping a gentle hand u the old man's shoulder, "you're go to nave me nnesi cirug store in me tate within six months. With the luff that Sperry has sent us we can lake Sothern & Dee look like 65 cents 11 the dollar. We're going to make tings hum in this old shop, and don't ou forget it." He laughed lightly, ith a note of encouragement. But he voided Graham's eyes even as lie did etty's. He could not meet the pitiful iok of the former, any more than that are of hostility and defiance in the itter. "It's good of you, my hoy," Graham uavered. "I?hut I'm afraid it won't"? "Now don't say that!" Duncan interosed firmly. "And don't let me keep ou. I think you said you were going ut on business? And I'll he busy nough right here." And, without exactly knowing how it ad come about, Graham found him?lf in the street, stumbling downtown iward the bank. When he had gone Duncan would ave returned to the shelves for a final adding up. He desired least of all lings an encounter with Betty in her resent frame of mind. With a suden movement she threw herself in ont of Duncan. "So you were listening!" "I'm sorry," he said uncomfortably, i didn't mean to hear anything," he rgued plaintively. "I was in the room efore I understood and by the time did it was too late?you had finisha." "Oh, don't try to explain. 1?I hate ou!" she continued. He held her eyes inquiringly. "Yes," e said in the tone of one who solves puzzling problem, "I believe you do." She looked away, shaking with pasion. "You just better believe it." "But." he went on quietly, "you don't ate your father, too, do you. Miss raham?" "What do you mean by that. Mr. aincan?" l mean, in* saiu, iuiu'iiiik, 1 in ? going to give you a bit of advice. Don't you talk to your father again the way you did just now." "Well, you ain't me!" she cried savagely. "You ain't me! Understand that? When I want advice from you I'll ask for it. Until I do you let me alone." "Very well," he replied so calmly that she lost her hearings for a moment. And inevitably this, emphasiz ing as it did all that she resented most in him?his education, wit, address, his advantages of every sort?only served further to infuriate the child. I "Oh, I know why you talk that way!" she said, rubbing her poor little hands together. "Do you?" he asked In wonder. "Yes, I do-you!" Suddenly she found words?poverty stricken words, it's true, but the best she had wherewith to express herself. And for a little they flowed from her lips, a scalding, scathing torrent. "It's because you go to church all the time and try to look like a saint and?and try to make out you're too religious for anything and like to hear yourself givin' Christian advice to poor miserable sinners like me. You think that's just too lovely of you. That's why you said it, if you want to know. Folks wonder what you're doing here, don't they? Guess you know that, and like it too. It makes 'em look at you and talk about you, and that'8 what you like. I could tell 'em. You're only here to show off your good clothes and your finger nails and the way you part your hair and?and all the other things you do that nobody in Noo York would pay any attention to." "A pretty good guess at that," he acknowledged candidly. "Yes, it is, and I know it, and you know it. Oh, it's easy enough to give advice when you've got plenty of money and fine clothes and?but"? "I understand," he said when she paused to get a grip upon herself and find again the words she needed. "You needn't say any more. The only reason I said what I did was because I'm strong for your father and?well, I wanted to do you a good turn too." "1 don't want your apologies." "All right. Only think over what I said some time." "I had a good reason for saying what I did." "I know you had." "How do you know?" "Because I'm not what you think I am altogether." "I guess you're not," she snapped. Tiiit t don't mean what vou mean. I mean you think I'm conceited and rich and don't know what trouble is. Well, you're mistaken. Many's the time I've dodged round corners to avoid meeting men I knew would invite me to have dinner or luncheon or a drink?of soda?or something?for fear they'd find out that I couldn't treat in return. Many a time I've gone hungry for days and weeks and slept on park benches until an old friend found me and took me home with him." She eyed him with attention. "But it's your father I wanted to talk about," he hurried on. "I'd bet a lot he knows more than any other man in this town, and, besides, he's a fine, square, good hearted old gentleman. Anybody can see that. Only he's got one terrible fault?he doesn't know how to make money. And that's mighty tough on you?though it's just as tough on him. Rut when you roast him for it, as you did just now, you only make him feel as miserable as a yellow dog, and that doesn't help matter... a little hit. He can't chance into a sharp business crook now; he's too old a man. Before long he won't he with you at all, and when he's gone you'll be sore on yourself sure if you keep on throwing it into him the way I heard you, and that's on the level." "I?I won't do it again," she faltered, twisting her hands together. "Bully for you!" he cried and. with an abrupt if artificial resumption of his businesslike air, turned away to a showcase to spare her the ambarrassment of his regard. "I didn't think," said the voice behind him; "I didn't mean to. Something happened that almost drove me wild and"? "I know," he said gently. After a bit she spoke again, "I'll go up and get dinner ready now." He heard her footsteps as she crossed to the door and opened it. There followed a pause. Then she came hurriedly back. He faced about to meet her eyes shining with wonder. She grasped his arm timidly. "I wanted to ask you," she said hastily, "if?was it this friend you spoke about?that found you in the park?who set you on the road to fortune?" "That's what he said," Duncan answered whimsically. [To be Continued.] TURKISH JAILS. All Classes of Prisoners Herded In One Big Cell. A Turkish prison is an experience. Vuu enter through the eell room. As a matter of fact, there is just one huge cell. into which you are crowded with the dozen odd others. Some have been arrested for back taxes, some fur murder. All form one cheerful company. The chamber is ill lit and full of the fumes of cigarettes which the men smoke the livelong day. Then by way of another door, with heavy leather portieres swung in, one comes to the unfortunate subchief of police at his desk. To one side is a divan, where there are trays of Turkish coffee for his guests. Here every one hemp guilty until proved innocent, prisoners of native birth are remanded to the cells. With foreigners, however, care must he taken, and if one speaks not the Turkish they set you in durance till they find some one speaking French. Hut meanwhile you get your peep into Turkish jails and their squalor. 1'p in the interior, at Plevlje. there is a very interesting Turkish prison which is unique. It forms the fourth side of an open court, of which the pasha's palace is the opposite side, and so when the military band plays in the courtyard for his highness the prisoners get the benefit. The prison is a ramshackle frame, the lower story comprising the one cell room. In this, again, all prisoners are thrust together, and the windows are likewise the cell casemates. Folk of the town tiike it as an act of religious devotion frequently to feed the prisoners dainties, and so one sees these lined up before the bars reaching the cakes through the gniting as you might reach things to the apes at a zoo.-Cincinnati t'ontmercial Tribune. Miscellaneous grading. AIRMEN TO COLUMBIA. Augustus Post Talks of His Wonderful Balloon Trip. Augustus J. Post, the world famous aeronaut, told humorously and graphically in the university chapel Thursday morning of his 1.000-mile air trip across the Canadian wilds, one of the longest flights on record, and his 3.O00 foot fall through the roof of a house in Berlin, "one of the shortest flights on record." Mr. Post has flown in balloons, air shiijp and aeroplanes about as much as ??iy living man. He Is now in Columbia with the Curtlss aviators. "f have been flying for so long." said' Mr. Post, "that it seems a very natural thing for ine to do." The aeronaut was Introduced to his audience by George Armstrong Wauchope. who declared that Mr. Post was "one of the most competent living/authorities on aeronautics." M r. Post spoke of the aviators who flew in the meet at Columbia as men win were "simply demonstrating the poss Ibiliiies of the new art of flying. The desire to fly is as old as man. It is of only recent years that the idea has taken concrete form." Mr. Post declnred. A Bag and Pan of Coals. "Jl bag maker in Paris," said Mr. Posi, "was responsible for the invention of the Balloon 138 years ago. Noticing that smoke always went up ward, ho took a tissue paper bag and filled it with smoke. It did not go up. ! But when he attached a pan of glowing coals, at the suggestion of his wife, to the mouth of the bag. it rose, much to his astonishment, and floated around the room. The hot air did the work. This was the first successful balloon. Tne development of the balloon was very rapid after the discovery' of hydrogen gas and its adaptability for inflation purposes. During the stage of Paris in the Franco-Prussian war. the only communication with the outside world that the Parisians had was by means of balloons. The South's Last Silk Dress. "During the War Between the States." said Mr. Post, "the women of the Confederacy sacrificed their silk dresses for the envelope of a balloon which the government built for military purposes. The balloon made several ascensions near Richmond and u'tifj of ooiiftirlomhl*> sprvicp It was finally captured by the northern troops. When they took the balloon the* got the last silk dress In the Confederacy. "The perfection of the gas engine," Mr.' Post declared, "made the aeroplane possible. It Is responsible for the last long stride man has made towards the realization of his desire to fly." "felling of his latest aeronautical exploit, Mr. Post said: "In the international balloon race for the Cordon Rennett trophy, Allen It. Haw ley and myself represented America in the racing balloon America II. Mr. Hawley acted as pilot. I was his aide. "The start was made at St. Louis late in the afternoon. In the balloon besides Mr. Hawley and myself was a ton of sand for ballast, some provisions, instruments and bedding. "When you ascend in a balloon, you have the sensation of standing perfectly still while the earth sinks from under you. You seem always to be sailing over a great bowl of which the horizon is the rim. Aeronauts Sleep Well. "A balloon trip through the night is awe inspiring. You go up and up into the blackness. Earth-sounds melt gradually into murmurs. The swaying <?f the basket is the only motion you feel. The aeronaut alone knows the bliss of perfect sleep, sleep beyond all sound 011 the bosom of boundless space. Mr. Hawley and myself experienced all these sensations in our trip in the America II." In the balloon the aeronauts had a novel cooking apparatus. Their cans of soup, which was the principal food they carried, were bedded in unslacked lime. By pouring a little water on the lime, they had their soup steaming hot at a moment's notice. "Once our guide rope caught in a I barbed wire fence and dragged it across a cornfield, mowing a clean swam, we sailed u?r a wnoie inem and woke up over Lake Michigan." Either Up or Down. Mr. Post explained that an aeronaut could control only the vertical motions of his balloon. The horizontal movement was dependent upon the direction of the air currents. "After we sailed across Lake Michigan and were well into Canada, we decided to land. A terrific storm which was raging down near the surface of the earth prevented us and we were obliged to ascend again. We passed over a desolate country, dotted with lakes and studded with mountains. We knew that we must be well into the wilds of Canada. "We selected a mountain side for a landing place and settled down among the trees. Mr. Hawley and myself extended mutual congratulations. He believed that we had won the race and set a new long distance record for a balloon tlighl. We did win the race, but there is still some uncertainty about the matter." Back Through Wilds. Mr. Post gave a graphic description of this trip back through the wilds to civilization. Once they gave themselves up for lost and threw away all the instruments and unnecessary baggage they had been carrying. Finally they reached the camp of a trapper who took them to the nearest settlement in his canoe. "We found that the whole world was excited over the trip and that the Canadian government was making every effort to locate its." said Mr. Post. "My trip in the balloon America If was the longest I ever took, but in Berlin two years ago. A. Holland Forbes and myself made the shortest balloon trip on record. It was at the international race. We had climbed into the basket and were waiting for the word to start. The fastenings of the balloon broke very suddenly and we shot upward without warning. The gas in tlie envelope began to expend very rapidly and rushed out of the appendix of the balloon with a strong sound which I shall never forget. The basket shivered and shook. I looked up from the basket and saw daylight through the top of the bag. It had exploded. Crashed Through Roof. "Mr. Forbes and myself began to unload ballast as fast as we could. We passed some of the sandbags on the way to the earth. Looking down I saw that the balloon was going to alight on the roof of a house. Just as it struck, we seized the suspension ring and raised ourselves up. The basket crashed through the tiled roof into the room below. We let go the ring'and dropped into it. Neither of us was at all hurt. I climbed out on the roof and took some pictures of the exploded envelope which was draped across the roofs of the houses. "The hag of the balloon had caught in the netting forming a giant parachute. This saved our lives in the fastest balloon trip on record." Mr. Post Carried Crowd. Mr. Post was enthusiastically received by his audience which was composed largely of the students of the university and the College for Women. He is a delightful lecturer and the fact that he knows his subject from personal experience lends his words added force. After the lecture Mr. Post was entertained at the College for Women. He was delighted with the beautiful old English garden.?Columbia State. OUR TARS ABROAD. What England Thinka of Their Visit. Every one in this country will join in offering a hearty welcome to the United States Atlantic lleet, two divisions of which will anchor respectively at Portland and Gravesend, while the other two will take their places at the same ports in due course. His majesty the king, himself a sailor and the supreme chief of the royal navy, will doubtless take occasion, at the fitting moment, to greet the American lleet on its visit to the shores of his kingdom, not merely in the language of formal compliment, but with that felicity of sentiment and expression with which he knows as well how to identify his own feelings with those of his people. To the royal navy itself as represented by the first battle division and the first cruiser squadron of the home fleet will fall, as its due prerogative, the congenial task of receiving and entertaining at its headquarters the first division of the American fleet, and thereby of returning with a cordial reciprocity of feeling the splendid hospitality with which British fleets and squadrons have more than once been entertained of late years by the United States navy at home. There will be no special naval reception at Gravesend, where the visit may be regarded as naid not so much to the nnw ?s tn the nation and its capital. But for that very reason the nation itself, and especially the great metropolis of the empire, will assuredly see to it that their welcome to the division of American warships anchored in the great historic port of London is not less cordial, sincere and hospitable than that of the royal navy at Portland. Just twenty years ago, in August, 1890, Admiral Mahan, that great historian who has done more than any other living man to open the eyes of all the world to the meaning of "sea power." wrote a memorable and even prophetic article entitled "The United States Looking Outward." At that time and for many years afterward such a visit as that which the American lleet is now about to pay to British waters would have been inconceivable. But the United States has since been looking outward with ever-increasing range and acuteness of vision. The Spanish war and the assumption by the United States of the task of completing the Isthmian canal have opened its eyes, and Admiral Mahan has furnished the optical apparatus whereby these events and others organically related to them and Issuing out of them can be re United States has. in fact, become a world power, and in so doing it has perforce realized the great truth that, though world power and sea power may not be coextensive and identical, yet they are organically and inseparably correlated. Hence the desire, perfectly natural and legitimate, of the United States to make its sea power commensurate with the larger outlook and circuit of its external and international relations. The present visit of the American fleet to European and British waters, following as it does other well known and equally significant proceedings of the same character, is thus, as it were, and outward and visible sign of "the United States looking outward," with clear vision and well-adjusted perspective. One of the first signs of this kind was given perhaps nearly a dozen years ago, just after the Spanish war, when some of the warworn ships which had fought and conquered off Santiago, visited Bermuda in February, 1X99, under the command of the late Admiral Sampson, and were there welcomed and entertained by the British North American squadron, then commanded by the present Lord Fisher or kiiverstone. This visit attracted little notice at the time, but J. R. Thurstteld. who was in Bermuda, has recorded in his "Nelson and Other Naval Studies" his impression of the profound significance of the occasion. "The American fleet," he says, "was received with the utmost cordiality. and the birthday of Washington. which occurred during the visit, was honored by a salute from the flagship of the British commanderin-chief. "I have often thought since that that salute may have been, in its symbolic aspect, as significant and event in the world's history as even the Boston Tea. Party. For, whereas the one marked the beginning of national estrangement, the other was perhaps the first overt sign of a growing national reconciliation." That impression was confirmed by a very striking interview with Admiral Sampson, which, with the full sanction of that gallant and distinguished officer, was recorded in our columns at the time. "For some reason or another." said the admiral. " a vast and marvelous change, to me as welcome as it was unexpected, has now come over the feelings of the people of the United States, rnstead of regarding England as our only probable enemy in Europe, we now regard her as our best and perhaps our only friend, and at any rate as the friend best worth having." Whether such a change was likely to bo permanent or not, no nuueu. "I cannot say with confidence, but I sincerely hope it is. That hope has since been confirmed by many slgnifieent incidents on both sides of the Atlantic, and it will assuredly form the keynote of the welcome now to be accorded by this country to the Tinted States Atlantic fleet.?London Times. Porfirio Diaz.?In considering the trouble in our sister republic, also, it is well to take into account the heroic repute of Porfirio Diaz, the glamour J..? ,u,. i? 1,1 a ?ar1v SlirrouilUlllK uic name. ill <..o life A'Artagan himself was not morp of a romantic hero. He fought for a whole year, day by day, with an unhealed wound which kept him in agony. He rose from a bed of fever to lead a cavalry charge. His escape from Razaine's guards in the Jesuit Monastery at Puebla, in 1865, and his defeat of the whole regiment sent in pursuit, a few days later, with a force of nondescripts recruited in the mountain roads, were as splendid as any imagining by Dumas. He had captured Puebla before Maximilian fairly knew that he was at large, and he marched thence to. meet the army sent to recapture the city, overwhelmed it, and proceeded to take the capital. A brave, audacious soldier, a man of the people who raised himself to the highest place by his own exertions, a man of great destructive force, to be sure, but of constructive genius as well, Diaz should not be regarded as unpopular.?New York Times. EMPLOYER'S LIABILITY. Germany Has Unique Plan to Protect Worker. There came under my observation at one time in Chicago a case of an employe of one of the large Interstate railroads, which is not at all unusual or extraordinary in any of its features, but which seems to illustrate one phase of the difference In the conditions which surround the American and the German workman. C. was injured while employed as a yard switchman. He was laid up for about thirty days as a result of the injury. He received nothing from the rnilrnflfl nnmnfitiv tn tw^nvzn him for his loss of time or for his pain C and suffering. There was some doubt * Q as to whose negligence caused the ^ accident. C. paid, or at least prom- y ised to pay, his doctor and drug bills, r While working for the company, however. It had deducted from time ^ to time a certain proportion of his o wages as his "voluntary contribution" n to the relief department of the rail- ? road company, and during his en- p forced idleness he received from this relief fund a small sum which enabled r his family to partially support itself, r This railroad relief department slm- a ply returned to him during his ill- s ness a part of his own money, and 1 before doing this it exacted from him a full release of all liability for the injury. C. then discovered for the first time that he would receive nothing but small payments from this "relief" F fund as compensation for his injury. When he had so far recovered as to feel himself able to resume his t work and earn enough money to pay tl his doctor's bill he returned to the e office of the superintendent of the railroad and applied for work. Feeling that his experience in the t so-called voluntary relief department p had been unsatisfactory and unfair to ,, him, he stated to the company's offi cer that he did not wish to belong to r the relief department, but wanted to v be employed independently of it. He ^ was urged to continue the old ar- . rangement, and when he insisted upon 1 the desired change he was told the P company did not want him. e His circumstances compelled him to a return to work, however?Indeed, the actuul wants of himself and family ? had driven him to apply for work be- n fore he was really physically able to n resume it. He therefore surrendered his plain legal rights, swallowed his pride, repressed his just indignation, w and went to work. ii Within a week he was seriously in- g Jured, this time as a direct result of the company's unquestioned negli- n gence. The company did not deny a its blame, but it again was able to tl and did satisfy and discharge its legal C( obligation to C. and his family by paying him a small weekly sum for a about three months. Except for the ci "relief" agreement, which the superintendent forced him to sign at the time of his re-employment after his first accident, he undoubtedly might have h recovered from the company several u thousand dollars, which In Justice he n should have received. Our declaration of independence a announced in 1776 that "all men are nr by nature free and independent." The g< framers of that great historic document had in mind the tyranny of the English kings, and the unjust dls- n crimination made by the sovereign at rr .the.lime oL the revolt of the colonies tl in favor of the few and against the many. " This declaration originally had no o reference to the relation of man In e< the industrial life as we know it today. An absolute equality between 1 such men was not announced, or even 01 contemplated. f( The American courts, however, in 8< construing this and similar provisions in the various bills of rights of the various states of the union, and apply- h; ing them to the relationship of em- d< ployer and employe, have too often ^ held that the employer and the work- V( man were, as a matter of law, equal, g( and that their respective rights with g{ reference to the making of a contract p. of hire were equal, and that if the terms of employment offered by the ej employer were not satisfactory to the rj employe he had the power to reject n them and a perfect right to do so and seek employment elsewhere. C( Mr. Justice Brewer in the "Adair" ia case in the supreme court of the u. United States said that in regard to b! the terms of employment the employer p, and employe have "equality of right," jj and that any legislation tending to Q] "disturb" that equality, such as lim- 3j iting the hours of labor, etc., was an b, unjustifiable Interference by the state fc In a matter of private contract. 0j As a pure fiction of the law this S( may be true, but the case of C. forci- p bly illustrates how clearly it is a fic- o] tion, and nothing else. re If this supposed "equality" of em- f, ployer and employe were a reality instead of a legal fiction the employe would not seek legislative interfer- p] ence for the purpose of shortening his re hours of labor, providing proper safe- t guards, etc., more often than would the employer, but we all know that all the agitation for this sort of legislation w comes from the working man. tl He may not felicitate himself upon his right to seek employment else- f where, when the terms proposed are ^ unsatisfactory and unfair to him, be- S{ cause in reality he has no such right. ol He must have work at whatsoever teims it is offered to him. a] Fortunately our courts are beginning to recognize this actual inequali- js ty between the employer and his tj. workman, and endeavoring to apply w rules more equitable for modern in- %v dustrlal conditions. Hope for the hi workman in a fairer conception by tr me courts OI me actual inequalities n which all recognize as existing is to ti be found in a recent decision of the w supreme court of the United States, jp In discussing this subject the court te says: "The legislature has also rec- kj ognized the fact, which the experience fr of legislators in many states has cor- 3| roborated, that the proprietors of these establishments and their operatives do not stand upon an equality, w and that their interests are. to a cer- h: tain extent, conflicting. The former k< naturally desire to obtain as much labor as possible from their employes, n, while the latter are often induced by tv the fear of discharge to conform to at regulations which their judgment, re fairly exercised, would pronounce to n) be detrimental to their health or b( strength. In other words, the pro- \y prietors lay down the rules and the m laborers are practically constrained to th obey them. In such cases self-inter- \\ est is often an unsafe guide and the to legislature may properly interpose w its authority." th One of our state courts in the ardor h< of its attack upon this old fiction has. tp in rather undignified and unjudicial language, called this doctrine of y< equality a "oase ukitiiiiuii. u? This incident of C., with its legal w application, merely serves to demon- ar strate again how far we are behind all cr the industrial countries of Kurope In it our laws regulating the relationship sp of employer and employe. at We are at least fifty years behind w Hermany. Here such a situation as fn developed in the case of C.?with all u| the injustice and hardship which it ri| entailed for him?would have been or Impossible. lii (Jermany, like Kngland and most of ar the other European nations, has a hji workman's compensation law. By as that is meant a law which absolutely h? lixes the liability of the employer to fe his emp'"?ye in every case of personal mi Injury, no matter Mho is at fault. and nf Mhich automatically pays to the em- th ploye or his family a certain, definite, tir and just sum. depending upon the ki seriousness of the injury, the period th of incapacity, etc. sh The compensation is paid in every ta case of accident. It is paid promptly, er The Mhole amount paid goes to the ar workman or his dependents. No law- lit ;ers are necessary. It is paid through he government postal department, hus insuring the safety of the fund md promptness in payment of all lalms. The Injured persons get the money vhen It Is most needed, and they are lot compelled to wait for five or six >r ten years, the douotrul result ot a awsult. The payments made are ustally based on a scale equal to about >ne-half the wages received by the >mploye while working, and the se lous cases amount to a reasonable tension during disability and often for ife. The employe's rights In case of inury are fixed by law and not by the (mployer. The employe himself Is towerless to barter away the privieges which these wholesome laws aford him. Statistics recently compiled by the lerman government show that about 2 per cent of the accidents which ocur In the Industries of the empire are Iqe to the necessary and inherent isks of the business?they are "trade Isks." The wear and tear of machinery Is i ways nsureo oy me moaern employer as one of his permanent Items f expense, which he expects the busies* to pay. He regulates the price f his product so that the Income rom his business will cover this cxense. There would seem to be no good eason in law or morals why the employer should not exhibit as much nxiety for broken arms as for broken hafts or gear wheels.?Chicago 'rlbune. DICTIONARIES. teal Books of Science and Histories as Well. Sir James Murray has given a lecure recently, on the making of a dlclonary, in which he described the laborate organization that was necesary for his own great undertaking, he Oxford English dictionary, relatng how there were 5,000.000 quotaIons stored in pigeonholes In an iron oom in his garden. The result Is a .*ork not only of great practical use, ut as Interesting to read as any book hat was ever written. There are some eople who never open a dictionary, xcept to learn how a word is spelled: nd for them a dictionary means a list f words with short definitions of their leaning. The Oxford dictionary was ot written for these; nor was Johnon's dictionary. That great work, as re know, contains not only the learnlg. but the prejudices of its author, ometimes he will express, in his defiitlon of a word, his hatred of a thing: s in the case of the word "excise." le definition of which caused the ommissioners of excise to consult the% ttorney general as to whether they DUia ODiain ieniu rtrurena. It is amusing to find that Johnson t first was In doubt whether or not e should make his dictionary a color>88 work; but that Anally he deterllned to Interpose his own Judgment nd "to support what appeared to him lost consonant to grammar and rea>n." His doubts, he says, were revived by Lord ChesterAeld, but we lay be sure that he could not have lade his dictionary colorless If he had led. The compilers of the Oxford Ictionary have tried to make it colrless; or rather they have allowed rery word to tell its own story in uotations, and it is not likely that any ne will ever contemplate an action ir libel against them. But words them?lves refuse to be colorless, except hen bad writers misuse them; they ave their adventures their ups and owns In life. They gather to themilves glory or squalor by the most di " " *~*> " * I A a t V* ran ch erse cnances, suiucnuico )me quality of sound in themselves. >metimes through quite external luses. And in the Oxford English ictionary we can trace the history of ich word, not told coldly by a histoan, but in quotations which bring s adventures before our very eyes. That is the peculiar interest of a implete dictionary. It does not reite history, but revives the past for s. It gives us not merely documents ut life. And the life of words is a art of the life of the human mind. ; is not only a legacy handed on from ne generation to another, it is a perstence of thought without a break, ut with the constant changes to be >und in all life. Poets, as we know, rten study the dictionary, and to do > would be a useful discipline for hilosophers. For it is a common vice f philosophers, and particularly of letaphysicians, to separate the word om the thing and, in laboring to dene the word exactly, to lose sight of le reality behind it. They try to simlify thought by using words as a pure lechanism, by turning them all into ichnical terms. A reading in thediconary will show them that the great lass of words cannot be used in this ay. They have not been made, like le coinages of science, but have rown to meet the wants of thought, hey are alive, and to use them as If ley were dead is to turn thought it>lf into a mere machinery that will rily deal with unrealities. But a dictionary is one of those few nd most delightful books that hav? i> conttxt and need none. Each word a little story to Itself; and yet as le reader wanders frdm word to ord he has no guilty sense that he Is asting his mind upon snippets. Peraps the best and gentlest way of inoducing a snippet reader to literaire would be to set him upon the diconary. There he could begin on ords that have but a short history. Iling half a column or less, words of11 modern and inglorious, and of the Ind that he was most used to. And om these, if he had any intelligence ; all. he would pass gradually to the eat words, which are often the short it?words IlKe " love arm ucam, hlch were in our language before It id a literature at all. and which have ?pt an almost unchanged meaning, 'cause they stand for things that do it change. From contrasting these i-o kinds of words he might at last tain to some understanding of the lation of language to thought, and ight see that some words are suspect icause they are so commonly used by rlters who do not know what they ean. There is. indeed, something in le very form and sound of certain ords that tempts this kind of writer use them. He always likes long ords derived from the Latin, because icy suggest abstractions to him. and ? is more at east with the abstract ian with the concrete. If you use words like love and death >u must say something: but you can se words like transpire or definitive Ithout saying anything or meaning lything in particular. The dictionary attains all words, good and bad. and criticises none. But it lets them leak for themselves in quotations, id these will prove, plainly enough, hether a word has anything to say r itself: whether it is a mere vulgar rstart with no history at all and no Kht to exist: or a word witn an nonable past and a degraded present, ce the overworked adjectives awful id nice: or a word, like steed, that is withdrawn Itself Into poetry and a penalty for its own fastidiousness is come to be used ironically by inrior humorists; or one of the great ords too simple to be misused and so cessary that they have been used rough all the ages. To read the dlcmary is to see all these different nds of words in action, some of them rough more than l.OOfl years; and It ould teach any one who can be ught that words are not mere counts. but living things with the good id evil, the wisdom and folly, of all 'e in them.?I/mdon Times.