University of South Carolina Libraries
ISSUED SSMI-WIESI^ l.*.grist's sohs. pnbiiahen. } % dfmnitg 3)eiosgajen: ^or tk^ promotion of lh<^olitiqal, JSoqial, ^jfiraltnpl and Commercial Jnleresls o|f th<feoj4. ( EaTABLlSHEDl85g. YORKVILLE, S. C., TUE8DAXJUNE 17, 1913. iNTO. 48. THE GIRL IN 'f.y ..'t x * > By ARTHUI HBMHaBWnWnMHMDUi It wu in the long vacation. Under the shadow of the elms along the bank lay the man. He was pretending to read, but the magaslne lay ignominously on the grass. The man let his hat slip down over his face and dropped into dreaming thought Below the bank on which he rested, the river dimly moved through an avenue of shade, ana wm?umw * boat lull of summer girls slid quietly past The man's thoughts were not pleasant It had come upon him this afternoon that he was growing old. He had come to the stopping place where he would have to pause to reflect to read just the value of life. Waiting for him, at some corner out of slgL uut not far off was Age. And how was he going to meet mat grimly waiting, silent one? Was he unready, unprepared for that quiet comfort? Had he lived his youth out yet? Was Age the only companion that life now held for him, or would he have a ? ? _.,.w ui? with her menu iu gu wuu uuu, u<i ??~ ?? gentle presence soften that grim acquaintance's ways ? What had he done with his forty years of life if he now was lonely, as solitary, as when he entered life? There were his men friends, all glad to see him, to have his company, to discuss and argue with him, to introduce him to their wives, to let him be god-father to their children, but they ore not the friends he had once known. And then there was she. He had always been a shy man, happy with his books, a little afraid of people. And women never seemed to care much for him. His few women friends treated him not quite as they treated other men. They liked him, but he felt beneath their friendship a lack?of what he scarcely knew, except that It was something for which his whole being vaguely craved. Then she had come Into his life. And he had loved her with a vividness, an emotion, that had startled him out of himself. And she hafl been kind, and when he had asked her to join her life to his, she had assented with a strange show of reluctance that he put down to shyness. But from that moment he had grown to love her with a love that made all that he read of love seem drab tinted and dull. Then she had written to him that letter, telling him with a cruel frankness that she was mistaken. She did not care that way. Since she had left him she had met someone who had awakened her to the fact that she had been on the verge of making a terrible mistake. Would he release her and forgive her fnr fha nain she knew She was In Hiding? And he had answered in the only way a man could answer and gone back to his books with an infinite compassion for the girl whose love he had so nearly trapped. But he missed her presence, her talk, her many unconscious disclosures of herself; above all, he missed her daily letters to him. He had grown into the habit of writing to her all his thoughts. Mentally he had always been conscious of a terrible loneliness. And in his dally letters to her that feeling had been, as he thought, forever assuaged. ' nf hl> li/o Ana now?me loot. v> u>? .... he was shut up again with his own soul?the worst loneliness in his life. A little gust of wind lifted his hat from his eyes, and he suddenly sat up. Along the narrow stream was leisurely coming a punt, and standing in it a tall girl in pink. She had thrown her hat in the bottom of the punt, and her head was crowned with a glory of richly tinted brown. Her firm, brown arms were bare to the elbow, and as she slowly propelled the light craft, her figure showed | graceful lines of bosom and limb. As she came nearer he saw dark eyes looking out of a face that would have been beautiful if it had not been for a nose that tilted irresponsibly and a mouth that smiled too often to retain its classic shape. In the boat were some baskets that pointed to the probabilty of afternoon tea. But she was alone. "She is going to meet him further up," the man said to himself with a vague envy. Before she went from sight, lost in the green coolness of that avenue of shade, she looked back once. In that glance the man thought he saw a little hovering smile. But he put the thought from him with a laugh; women did not waste their smiles on him. He determined to wait and see the punt return. But it might not return down that channel! Anyhow, he would wait. Perhaps there was Buch a girl waiting for him somewhere In the world? Then, with a short laugh at himself, he took out some sheets of paper and with his fountain pen began a letter. It was headed, "To the Girl in the Punt." In the delightful afternoon which the girl spent In the punt no man had any part. She loved the river with a devotion few suspected. Those quiet, curving waterways, overreached with cool green, were to her something almost God-given. And so soon she was going away to leave them all, perhaps forever! Then in the evening she was slowly drifting down stream she paused as she came to the bank where she remembered to have noticed the man. For she saw no man, but a collection of articles, a walking stick, a pipe, a tobacco pouch, a magazine and some scattered sheets of loose writing paper lay unheeded on the grass. First, carefully assuring hersell that the owner of these man-things was not present, the girl poled hei punt to the bank and stepped out. I) was surely a very careless being. She would collect them and put them where they would not run the risk ol I THE PUNT. t H. ADAMS being taken by any passerby. She took up the magazine and began to put the loose sheets of paper Inside its pages. But in the action she paused. Her eyes had caught the heading, "To the Girl in the Punt" She stared. "Why," she said, with a little laugh, "I believe he has had the audacity to write to me!' The impertinence! And such a quiet sensible sort of man, too!" Womanlike, she never doubted that the letter was for her. She did not pause to reflect that there might be other girls in other punts. She began to read. "To the Girl in the Punt?Tou passed me just now and as you went I thought you smiled at me." "I didn't!" the girl said hotly. "The conceited thing!" "But I know," the letter continued, "that you did not It was my fancy that led me astray." "Singularly observant; young man!" reflected the girl. "After I took the trouble to smile at him, now he says he didn't see me!" She read on. "But I am a lonely man. and perhaps grow somewhat childish in my loneliness. And ever { since that?it is two years ago. now " "I thought so!" sighed the girl. " Since that I have drifted, as it seems without a guide or sign. Companionship, friendship, love?that is the one need of my life. A man . does not say these things out, but to you who are a total stranger, I may tell without fear of your scorn or of your laughter. For ouce I thought , I had grasped that which I have so long unconsciously sought?a woman's love; but it slipped away. And now I see how impossible it is for anyone to care for me. And yet it means something to me to dream that someone comprehends, would be a little sorry for me, perhaps. So I have written to you. It is a weak and foolish thing to do, but I have been strong and self-contained so long, and all I have won from life has been isolation. And as, when I have sign- ( ed this letter I shall tear it up, as 1 know that you will never receive it , The girl smiled. "Cautious man!" ! oKa rnw Q rlrorl "Yet it is something to me," she , read, "to dream that you will answer j It, with a sympathy. It Is all absurd, of course. Yet It may be that you are like me. asking all unconsciously for love. It may be that I am unknowingly drifting toward you, and that tomorrow, as you go past this bank in your punt?how beautiful,- how graceful you showed today!" The letter ran on: "Tomorrow, perhaps, as you pass this bank you will pull up to the river edge without a word, and I shall step in as if it were my right, and you will say, 'So you are In time?' and I shall reply, 'I have been waiting for you all my life; would I miss you now?' Then I shall lie in the punt and lazily watch you poling me up the river until we come to a certain overhanging wiuow "My willow!" she said. "How dare he!" "And there you will get out the teathings, and I shall light the spirit lamp?I saw one In the punt as you passed?and " "And that's all," said the girl. The letter broke off suddenly. The fountain pen with which he had evidently written it lay on the grass at heT feet. "He was in a hurry," she thought. "I wonder why?" But there was no answer. She tore the letter into a hundred pieces and scattered them on the grass. "That was v.hat he said he would do, anyhow, and it was addressed to me," she said in her own defense. Then as she pushed oft In the punt she sighed: "Poor fellow!" Then with a swift change of mood, she pushed the punt viciously down the stream. "I dare say he knew I would get it wnen ne wrote it 10 me, and he was hiding somewhere near and watched me read it. I won't come this way again." As she was walking home she met her cousin. "Did you hear of the accident this afternoon on the river?" the other asked. The girl of the punt went white. "What was it?" she asked swiftly, and before her eyes she had a vision of those scattered things on the river bank. "A bov was nearly drowned." She gave a quick sigh of relief. "Only that?" "It was pretty serious," said the other girl indignantly. "If that man hadn't been so prompt and rescued him, he would have been drowned." "What man?" "He was reading by the river, and when the little girl ran to him he Just flung his book down and plunged in. The water wasn't deep, luckily, because he couldn't swim, and when he got the boy out he seemed dead. But the man was a doctor and set to work to revive him. It was over an hour before the boy regained consciousness. and all lhat time the man worked over him. The girl of the punt reflected, i "After all," she thought, "I may go i that way tomorrow." The man was reading on the bank. TT~ 1 TKa rl xi'QO In nt* 1UUAUU U J?. AUC 51* 1 Tfww ... I white, but even far down that avei nue of shade he knew her to be the same. She was leisurely poling the i punt up the stream. Then the man was glad he had torn s up that foolish letter he had written to her yesterday just before he had o pull that boy out of the water and bring him back to ilfe. He had woni dered a little when he came back that evening to collect his belongings t to find that he had torn up the let> ter before he had scrambled up to go i to that boy's assistance, f As the girl approached she looked up at him almost with a smile. Then, with a quick pressure on the pole she turned the punt and its prow shot into the soft grass. Without a word she waited. The man went dull red. He looked at the girl in the punt The girl waited. He stepped in. She pushed the punt oft. "So you are in time?" she said softly.' "I have been waiting for you all my life?would I miss you now?" he replied. ft _ 1 J J t.1. I.UA.4 ?o sne naa reaa nia iencri ivii such a thing: was impossible. What, then ? His astonished mind refused to follow the thing to any conclusion. He was lapsed in great content. "So you expected me?" he said at last, looking up at her slim, fair flgure crowned with its glory of vivid brown. "Of course," she replied. 'I knew you would be here." It was enough. He ventured no further questions. He might shatter the dream. This day was his. The girl was greatly happy. There were no exclamations, no Introductions to their comradeship. Immediately they had drifted Into the position of dear friends; they were intimate at once. He told her of his me, ui lue ouici bhi. "I know," said the girl In the punt with dimming eyes. And it did not seem strange to him that she should know. But she told him little about herself, except that she had won happiness in life and was content. The tea was a success. The dainty meal over, they drifted lazily down the stream, languidly talking, with long silences between that brought them more Intimately together than words may ever do. Through the silence of the evening he poled the punt down the river. When they came opposite the bank under the elms he got quietly out "You will come again tomorrow?" he asked. And the girl in the punt said softly, "Yes." "Then goodby," she said, and standing fair and slim and white in the stern of the punt she went slowly Into the avenue of green shade, glimmering quietly in the gathering dusk. Ana me man giueu iuub anci uei, wondering:, yet well content Then it suddenly came to him that he did not even know her name. "But she will come again tomorrow," he said. But the girl in the punt did not come on the morrow, or any morrow, though the man waited under the elms many afternoons. For the morrow was her wedding day with the man she loved. And sometimes In the years of quiet happiness that followed, she thought of the man on the bank of the stream, and knew that for one afternoon she had given him great happiness. And he remembered always and was thankful. TEA AS A BEVERAGE It is Said to Enrich a Person Both Morally and Physically. Did you know that tea drinking: is a splendid aid to one's morals? At least that is the opinion of an English scientist who not long ago compiled a learned treatise to show the beneficial effects of tea drinking from a spiritual, physical and moral standpoint A meal in the morning, he says with tea as the beverage will enable a man to pursue his day's work with faculties unclouded, temper unruffled and a generally amiable state of nerves. Besides that, it makes the body active, it clears the sight, it strengthens the appetite and the digestion and is particularly wholesome for men of corpulent bodies and great meat eaters. ? - ? ? * ? t*>A1*AQOOO fVlO II vunisneB urcaiiu, mvicaoto v??v memory and prevents sleeplessness. It has been observed that It has contributed more to the sobriety of the Chinese than the severest laws, the most eloquent harangues and the best treatise on morality. But, in addition to all this, he claims for tea a strengthening effect on morality. A man who is stimulated by a generous cupful of tea, moderately strong, will be able to withstand more successfully trie manuoia lempuiuuua that assail him in the business and social world into which he is plunged than the man who is not sustained by the same beverage.?Chicago Tribune. ? Columbia, June 7: Prof. A. C. Moore, dean of the faculty, has been selected as acting president of the University of South Carolina by the board of trustees. Resolutions cf regret at the departure of the retiring president, Dr. S. C. Mitchell, were adopted. The meeting took place in the office of Governor Blease late yesterdny with all members present. Dr. Mitchell's resignation was presented and accepted, effective June 15. The resolution eulogizing the president was not signed by Governor Blease, though he did not oppose it. The faculty's unanimous recommendation, that the degree of LL. D. be conferred on Charles W. Bain by reason of his sound learning, high character and signal service in the cause of education and progress, was approved by the board. Mr. Bain was for twelve years head of the department of ancient languages in the University of South Carolina. Three years ago he . I- - _i??_ |? TTnl IOOK me cnaii ui uicvr >?v w... versity of North Carolina. J. Bruce Coleman of the faculty, now attending Columbia University, was made associate professor of physics at a salary of $1,500. Good Homes and J. E. Mills, associate professors, were promoted to full professors. John A. Blackburn, of Columbia, was elected physical director, vice James Driver, resigned. Student assistants elected were M. L. Hanahan, W. H. Cook, J. J. Hill and Alva I. Green. The university has received from the University of Virginia, Vanderbilt, and North Carolina, proposals for exchange of professors. The board entrusted the working out of details to the committee on organization and faculty. Various building contracts were approved. The two new dormitories were named, respectively, James H. Thornwell and James Woodrow. Governor Blease left the meeting to attend a meeting of the state military board. As he was leaving he said if the board went into the election of a president, his vote would be cast for the Rev. W. B. Daniels, presiding elder, Charleston district, M. E. church, south. It was decided to defer the election of a president, however. |His(flIancous grading GOVERNMENT FOUGHT SUGAR Lobbyists Used Printing and Postal Departments. How the government printing office and the postofflce department helped In the fight against free sugar through the use of congressional "literature" circulating throughout the land waa brought out last Monday by the senate lobby Investigators. Truman GL Palmer, Washington representative of the United States beet sugar industry, o?%<1 dkJL VIII LUC Oiauu kUC vutuc uaj uitu m?v object of a sweeping: cross-examination, testified that more than 1,500^ 000 copies of arguments in behalf of beet sugar had been turned out by the government printing office, made public documents by order of congress and had ridden on the franks of senators and representatives to the enda of the country, postage free. "Sugar At a Glance," prepared by him, he said, had attained a circulation of 320,000 copies under the frank of Senator Lodge. "Reports of the Finance Committee," by the same senator, had beaten the pamphlet by 80,000 copies. The franks of Senator Smoot, former Senators Curtis and Dick and the late Representative Malby, former Representative Picket and Representative Martin had swelled the total to more than a million and a half. The printing of some of this number had been paid for by tbe beet sugar people, the witness said, but the free postage had saved them about $28,000., Mr. Palmer developed that "Sugar At a Second Olance," which he Intimated, was inspired by the Federal Sugar Refining company, and which was an argument in behalf of free sugar, had also been printed as a public docu-. ment and circulated under the franking privilege. He did not say, nor did the committee ask, why the frank was so used. Mr. Palmer said that the beet sugar men had spent about $160,000 in their campaign against free sugar since 1902. About $50,000 had been used since last November, and about $14,000 of that amount since the beginning of the present session of congress. Much of it ha<* been spent in "publicity work," in printing, salaries and a good sized sum in motion pictures. He said that the beet producers In his association were assessed about five cents per ton, he thought xne last assessment was wauc April, bringing in about $18,000, and the previous one in February, about 117,000. Palmer said that when Senator Lodge made a speech on sugar in July, 1912, the charts subsequently used in "Sugar At a Glance" were on the walls of the senate chamber. Senator Lodge secured the permission of the senate to have them printed as a public document Questioned by members of the committee, the witness said that after the charts had been sent to the government printing office and proofs in black and white had been made of them, he had discovered they were not suitable for publication. Hie had, therefore, sent them to a private printing concern and had them prepared in a fashion he thought suitable. This, he maintained, was done wun uie khuwiedge of Senator Lodge and he considered that he was acting for the senator in the matter. Members of the committee expressed surprise that any one should in any way change something authorized to be printed by the senate. They developed that the permission was secured by Senator Lodge for printing on July 27 and that one of several Issues of "Sugar at a Glance" referred to an order of the senate on August 10 in the same matter. The second order referred to data prepared by Truman G. Palmer and purported to be signed by Charles G. Bennett, then secretary of the senate. Mr. Palmer said he supposed that the order had been made, and that he got it in the proofs of the charts from the printing office. The Congressional Record of August 1, according to Senator Cummins, showed no such order, nor did the Journal of the senate nor the files In the document room. "You substituted at the government printing office for the document you received from the clerk of the senate this privately printed copy?" said Senator Reed. "I don't think that is a fair question," said Palmer. "I want to find out about this," said Senator Cummins. "It is a rather serious matter to forge a signature of the secretary of the senate to an order that never was made." The committee finally dropped the question with the expressed determlnatio' to pursue it further and investigate jooks and records of every sort to get the information they seek. Senator Lodge will be heard in explaantion if he desires to appear. Mr. Palmer became indignant at 1 fln/1 Allf All. aenaiur neni a cuui m iu hmu UUi. erything done by the beet men in Washington. "I don't think business men are barred from the city of Washington," he added. "There is nothing disreputable in talking to senators and congressmen. They don't live In glass houses. I have been free to try to convert them and prevent the ruin which I believe will result from the passage of the bill in congress." 81 YEARS OLD, IN TREASURY 49 One of Uncle Sam's Oldest Women Employees. Eighty-one years old, and rounding out fifty years as a government employee in the treasury department, is the record of Miss Emma R. Graves. Forty-nine years of this service, which was up April 12 last, was spent in the redemption division of the treasury, and despite the fact that Miss Graves pleaded to be left in that division for one more year, so as to celebrate her golden anniversary, she was transferred to the register's office, says the Washington Star. She still occupies the position of an expert counter, counting notes which have been turned in to the gveornment, and which are cut in half before being destroyed. Miss Graves was among the first woman employees of the government, a number having been placed in service in 1864 by Frank E. Spinner, then treasurer of the United States. When she was called upon in her work-room by a reporter she was very much opposed to being interviewed. "Can't you use what I tell you without using my name? I don't like to be interviewed," she said. After much persuasion Miss Graves finally oon?ented to have her name tjsed, and, believing he had gained a point, the reporter then asked for her photograph. Up flew Miss Graves's hands. "Goodness!" she smilingly exclaim;,*1. "I couldn't think of having my (picture printed. Besides, I haven't had ,one taken for the last twenty years." Saw Exciting Times Here. i came irom uioomvine, in. x? mty-three years ago, on a visit to rela! three," said Miss Graves. "It was right at the ' eginnlng of the civil war. And I tell jou I saw some exciting times .right here in the city of Washington. The people were always watching for an Invasion of the city by the Confederate forces. "I was persuaded to stay here by my relatives and take a position in the treasury department. At that time the north wing had not been built The state, war and navy departments were located in a small brick building In the northeast corner of the ground on which the treasury is now located. "In what is now the old cash room In the treasury a large stock of arms was kept. These were for the use of the clerks in the treasury in case of an ! Invasion. However, the war was over iwhen I assumed my position in the (treasury department, j "You know Secretary Chase, of the .treasury department was very much vppuocu iu wuiuan cuipiu/ cco in iuc government service. Francis E. Spln,ner, then treasurer of the United States, after much persuasion on his :part. Anally secured the permission of .Secretary Chase to give the women a trial as government clerks. It had practically become a necessity for the government to employ women. All of the men and boys had gone to war, and the work had to be done, so the only course open seemed to be to give the women a chance. Mr. Spinner told Secretary Chase, that If, after a trial, the women proved satisfactory, he would employ more. Then, of course, there wasn't much gold and silver, and they had to have more of the fractional currency, and they used to have to cut the money by hand. Mr. Spinner also pointed out that women were more skillful with the scissors than the men, and this was another argument why they should be given a chance. The redemption division was established at that time, on account of the paper money. "Finally, after a year's trial. Treasurer Spinner went to Secretary Chase and told him how. satisfactory the work of the women had been, and said that he hadn't lost a cent, and that was more than he could say for the men. Women Never Forgot 8pinner. "We never forgot Treasurer Spinper. After his death we felt that we owed the appointment of women to hiny so the women contributed to s fund, and a monument costing $10,000 was bought. It is now located in Myer's Park, Herkimer, N. Y. We made several attempts to get permission to place the monument on the front steps of the treasury, but the officials refused, on the ground that It would furnish a precedent. "The appointment of women to the government service at that time, In my opinion, opened many fields for them," declared Miss Graves. "Before that time they had never thought of leaving home, and all they did was to get ready to marry." Miss Graves Is yet alive, despite her 81 years. When the reporter called upon her she was counting the half notes and placing them in packages. She gets about just as quickly as many of the younger clerks In the department. She is the oldest of three sisters, the only members of her family now living. The other two sisters. Mrs. Elizabeth G. Menet, of Kansas City, and Miss Alemla B. Graves, of ni/inmviiio TC v.. are livine In the city at this time with Miss Emma Graves. Her father, she says, lived to be 86. Her father and brother both served in the Union army during: the Civil war, both in the 97th New York, familiarly known as "Conkllng's Riflemen," named for Senator Conklingr. Her brother, she said, at the time he enlisted as a drummer boy, was so small that he could not march, and he had to be placed on the baggage wagon. Aristocracy of Labor,?Wide discussion is being caused by recent expressions of Jonathan B. Frost, the well known southern author, on "Justifiable Aristocracy." Mr. Frost has defined aristocracy as he understands It in a new and striking way. "Note in any American city," he says, "the proportion of its successful men who were farm born and bred or who come out from other avenues of physical labor. The fact that they are tnnmiQ fn llfl thft ?CU IllilUU, 11 iviiQUb kv> mm ?. ? truth that we have passed the time of birth's supreme Influence on social standing, Intellectual attainment and natural preferment and entered the age of the Justifiable aristocracy where the standing of people Is self determined by Industry and character." Mr. Frost says further, "Idleness was the pride of the old aristocracy; labor Is the pride of the new. The old was the order thieves subsisting upon the toll of those they were able by law to rob. The new is an order of conscientious and Industrious, wishing nothing they do not deserve, but demanding what they have earned. "The tables are turned and Industry now carries the dignified head. Thus Is accomplished the natural selection of the worthy. Labor will not associate with Idleness. It never has time. The badge of labor, In some one of Its m??t ho worn hv him who en ters the enobllng circle of this justifiable aristocracy." <t*r a Scotch class was examined in Scripture. "Can any boy or girl here tell me how Noah would be likely to use his time while on the ark?" asked the Inspector. One boy timidly showed his hand and replied: "Please, sir, he wad fish." "Well, yes, he migltf," , admitted the inspector. Another little fellow waved his hand, excitedly, and i said: "Please, he couldna fish vera i lang.' "What makes you think so, my i little man?" "Because there was only two worms in the ark.?Chicago Record-Herald. CLIPPING COLLECTORS Mystery and Romanee 8ometime? Back of Desire to Accumulate Printed Items. Offhand a press-clipping bureau doesn't savor of romance. Vanity mostly Impels patronage of those establishments where newspapers are carefully read and paragraphs mentioning patrons clipped at 6 cents a clip. But there is a mildly romantic side to this, as to most other businpMAfl % | There is that worthy recluse well on J toward middle life who has a mania for sentimental poetry such as still find* admirers In the columns of "coun'ry" newspapers and certain other publications. Saccharine sentimentality she craves. Her clipping bureau searches everywhere for poetry, and a special reader culls selections from the harvest. To him falls the duty of separating wheat from chaff. Wheat are those sentimental outpourings that have a sweet sadness; chaff those with a flippant twist. She demands this culling and pays a special price for the selections. The bureau nearly lost her very profltable patronage in the early days of its service, because it sent her poems that treated her grand passion in a humorous and glib sort of way. These she has no use for. For such poems as she wants, however, she is a veritable Oliver Twist in her calling for "more!" Tears ago this lady, who belongs to one of New York's oldest and wealthiest families, was engaged to be married. Three days before the date set for the wedding her fiance was stricken with pneumonia and died after but a two days' illness. The bride-to-be never fully recovered from the shock. Now, a partial wreck mentally, and a complete one physically, she divides her life as a shut-in between reading love poems and worshipping before a shrine of portraits of her dead lover. Perhaps this Is as good an evidence of her devotion as scattering flowers upon his grave. A quietly effective charity is revealed by the demand of a wealthy widow for "all clippings referring to babies in need of aid In New York and Westchester counties." This woman, work Ing in absolute anonymity, has in ner employ, Investigators who search out and render immediate assistance to such cases as appeal to her when she sees the stories In print She works on much the same plan as did the late James R. Keene, who. in that not very remote winter when soup kitchens had to be opened in New York city to feed the starving poor, ordered his charity messengers, who were to distribute $25,000 he gave to "render immediate assistance, whether the parties were worthy or worthless. Don't Investigate too much; feed 'em if they're hungry, clothe 'em if they're naked, heat 'em if they're cold." The cases the woman referred to finds. through the services of the clipping bureau are not handed over to any charity society, but are attended to by her own physician, two trained nurses, and investigators so long as she thinks they need immediate aid. She does this charitable work as a tribute to the memory of a child, who died when less than a year old, and its father, whose death followed shortly after. Just why one man should want details of all "unusual suicides" is a puzzle to the managers of one bureau. It Is hardly probable that he wishes to find a nnvei wftv of Belf-destruction, for he has been taking such clippings for Ave years and shows no signs of Insanity. On the contrary, he is a prosperous merchant. He Is a jovial, thoroughly likable man, with a fondness for wholesome stories with a good laugh in them and a regular attendant at the best of the vaudeville theatres, where his manifest enjoyment over boisterous fun is satisfying to actors and auditors alike. Just why he buys clippings of such a morbid character, keeping them carefully indexed, as he does, is therefore much of a mystery. A western Pennsylvania splnister ? ? DlffoKnro'h q aonpv All t hp KCIO 1IU1II U> X IkVUMUi O ?ov?*v/ ? ? "anecdotes and poems about cats" she can secure. She has been doing: this for the last ten years, Insisting that the clippings shall come to her In such shape that they can be "neatly pasted in my scrapbooks, with the names of the papers in which they appear and the date of their publication." Her country place is always the home of a score or more of cats, waifs and strays she picks up on the highways In her tours about the country. One woman, very ambitious socially, has preserved for her all clippings referring to the social doings and life of the royal families of Great Britain, Germany, Italy and Spain. They go to her in a weekly batch, together with publications referring to certain families of the old regime in France. Her order is a profitable one, as it includes "all publications in either the English or French language." A frequent visitor to European capitals, she is assumed to believe that these excerpts from the papers keep her In touch with the gossip or tne courts, and particularly their fine points in etiquette and dress, which she is known to follow as closely as possible in her social life. Fads of patrons who are "collectors" are shown in orders for all clippings about such unusual subjects as walking sticks, bottles, signboards, snuffboxes, shoes, fans, and laces. One man takes all the clippings he can get about artificial flies, (used in fishing.) Another is strong for "big and unusual catches of fish;" a third wants the rather Indefinite "fishing yarns," still another "all poker stories," while a yearning for "snake stories of all kinds" possesses another individual. Gossip about authors, painters, sculptors, singers, and musicians of all sorts, playwrights and actors, ministers, and acrobats Is wanted by scores of persons. These orders follow the appearance of a new book that achieve a position as a "best seller," a successful play, a "hit" by actor, singer, or musician,, or a new painting that i occasions favorable comments from I the critics. Such orders often tell the story of a romantic attachment by an impres' slonable matinee girl for some star, and, singularly enough, these are most often for some woman performer. Or ders cease as quickly as they come In these latter cases, as they are apt to be expensive luxuries. They were found so by one young lady, smitten by a very prominent woman singer, when her "carte blanche" order for all "pictures of and stories about" this star of the musical Armament reached a total of 2,300 clippings at 5 cents each, or $115.?Philadelphia Ledger. REGENERATION OF THE WORLD a ?!_ q.l - f.a O...U. U i OOVDn Dig DVMVIIIWV iwr v?viug i* i 8ince Spanish-American War. I' | In seven different ways has the world been on the point of being regenerated since the Spanish-American war. For the completeness with which the world has been reconstructed consult the current flies of the newspapers. The world was to be made over by means of the bicycle. The strap-hanger was to abandon his strap and ride joyfully down the Broadway cable-slot, snapping his fin gers at traction magnets, and Imbib- 1 ing ozone. The factory hand was to 1 abandon his city flat and live in the 1 open country, going to and from his 1 work through the green lanes of flf- , teen miles an hour, with his lunch on 1 the handle-bars. The old were to 1 grow young again and the young were 1 to dream close to the heart of nature. < The doctors were to perish of starva- ' tion. But where is the bicycle today? ' The world was to be made over Dy 1 Jlu-pitsu. Elderly gentlemen were to regain the waistline of their youth by ten minutes' practice every morning In the secrets of the Samurai. Slim young women, when attacked by heavy ruffians were to seise their assailants by the wrist and hurl them over the right shoulder. The police were to discard their revolvers and their night sticks and suppress rioters by mere muscular contraction. The doctors, as before, were to grow extinct through the rapid process of starvation. But where is Jiu-jitsu today? The world was to be regenerated by denatured alcohol. Congress had merely to remove the internal revenue tax and a new motive power would be let loose, far transcending the total available horse power of our coal mines. Denatured alcohol was to drive the farmer's machines, propel our automobiles, run our factories and reduce the cost of living to a ridiculous minimum. But where Is denatured alcohol today? The world was to be regenerated by the bungalow. The landlord was to disappear and in his place would come a race of freemen bowing their head to no man and raising their own vegetables. Kitchen drudgery was to he eliminated by the simple device of abolishing the kitchen and calling it a kitchenette. With no more stairs to climb, rheumatism would pass into history. So would the doctors. The bungalow is still with us, but, alas, so ? *V*A Clio UIO uwwftB. The world waa to be regenerated by 1 sour milk; by the simple life; by 1 sleeping in the open air. But where I now are Prof. Metchnikoff and Pastor I Wagner? And the pictures of roseembowered sleeping porches in the 1 garden magazines have been supplant- > ed by pictures of colonial farmhouses < transformed into charming interiors ' by two coats of whitewash and a thin- 1 paper edition of the classics. Does this show that we must give < up all hope of seeing a new world ' about us before 1916? By no means. We still have eugenics.?New York < Evening Post ) ' ? A Smooth 8windle.?Not long ago an < "an American" called upon a West End jeweler in London and bought a splendid pearl, for which he paid (6,000?in real money. A few days later back he came. "My wife is in ecstasies over that pearl" he told the jeweler. "She wants another just like it" "How much does she want it?" inquired the jeweler. 'Te&rls of that grade are very rare, hard to find, and, for purposes of matching, blooming expensive." They talked price, and "the American" went away, after agreeing to pay as much as (17,600 if a perfect match for the pearl could be obtained. One day in drifted a stranger with a pearl, which so far as the Jeweler's memory served him, was an exact duplicate of pearl number one. The stranger didn't much want to sell it, but when an offer of (16,000 was made he couldn't resist So the Jeweler handed over the cash and tucked away the new pearl in the safe, wltl} a promised profit of (2,600 clinging to it. But where was "the American?" Not at the address he gave: not even anywhere in London, ap?Than the truth began to paicn 1.* jr. amvm -? _ dawn upon the jeweler. He had bought back the original pearl, and gave "the American" a profit of $10,000 on the transaction. The game is old, invented long before America was discovered.?New York Press. Serious and Humorous, But Not Resentful. ? The Yorkville Enquirer makes a courteous reply to what the Dally Journal had to say about its attitude toward the present administration, from which we discern that The Enquirer very readily grasped our meaning when it declared that we were "partly serious, partly humorous, just a little resentful," save the last statement. We did not mean to be resentful as we have no occasion for manifesting this kind of spirit toward The Enquirer. It has always been courteous toward us, and we have no cause for holding it in any other than the highest esteem. It certainly has convictions and it is not afraid to stand by them. We always admire a man and a newspaper that are not afraid to come out in the open, and let people know Just what they stand for. And it is the only kind of a newspaper that is worth a copper. The Enquirer asks: "Has the Journal ever had its mo1 ? ? ' -> hv nannlA tlves secreiciy r??.? who would injure It? Has It never been the victim of cowardly repprts, circulated with intent to injure, and In such a way that It could not fix responsibility? The Enquirer Is familiar with these things. It has had so many baseless reports circulated about it, that it sometimes thinks it is callous to such things." We can answer this question In the affirmative, and answer it most emphatically. We expect to have to continue contending with misrepresentations as long as we have the courage and the manhood to stand for what we believe to be right. As it appears to us, the enemies of a high class newspaper are the strongest evidences of its rectitude that it can have, and are a credit to its integrity and its unyielding attitude toward right and wrong.?Greenwood Journal. I HERO OF BLACK MOUNTAINS Comes From a Lin* Who Ha* Ruled Many Years. The king of Montenegro descends from a family which has ruled the land of the Black Mountains for many ages. But the family served while it ruled, and found service honorable. And a similar humble pride exalts the present occupant of the throne. His schooling in Paris, begun so sensationally, shows the boy to have been father to the man. He was a bora poet and knight-errant, but not inclined to bend his talents to the exacting exercises of the classroom. Insensibly he rrew to a sort of unofficial leadership of his fellows. He was always present at the students' battles, the rlghter of 0 triers' wrongs, and invariably fought the winner of a combat "to teach him to make a generous use of his victory." M. Sevrette, who Is now, as he was in King Nicholas* student days in Paris, a professor at the college, tells us how gladly the future warrior-ruler fled the labors of the study. He had to do just the same menial ser* vice as the others. "Petro," his master would say, "Petro, please go and boil some water in my room, and, bring it to me with my soap and razor," and the future sovereign would trip blithely away to perform the office of barber's boy, content because it gave him a brief respite from his studies. The ruler who has recently hung h's shield in the arena is a challenge to all Europe was, in his youth, as docile a "fag," as was, say, Lord Roseberry, when he-used to gallop off before breakfast to a tailor's in the High street at Eton to get the breeches of his fag-master, a parson's son. mended, or as the father of the present Duke of Marlborough, when he coursed dutifully over the tame historic highway to buy hts senior's breakfast of de-nocratlc bloaters. But, as already indicated, service is combined with the theory of government in the Montenegrin royal family. For hundreds of years prince and peasant have been on terms pretty much of equality In certain things, and In none more than the matter of compliance with the dictates of the very to do." The rulers of Montenegro have each been prophet, priest and prince to the nation. Until 1CM, the people used to elect their ruler, but In that year they chose a young monk, Danlllo Petrovltch, and decreed that though he, as one vowed to celibacy, could have no heir, yet he should choose his successor from one of his cwn blood. Thus the young monk of Nlegush became the first hereditary nrlncA nf th? land, m the Dresent rul jr, also a native of Nlegush, became Lhe first hereditary king- For a century and a half prlest-prlnces of the bouse of Petrovltch nominated as their successors other prlest-prlnces of the line, and every head of the house, up to 1852, was an unmarried monk, who eras also general In battle, spiritual guide In time of peace, teacher and Inspirer. The present king's uncle, Danlllo IL teas the first to throw off the priestly role. He declined to vow himself to :ellbacy, married a rich and beautiful woman, and, more warlike than his predecessors, raised the banner of revolt against the hated Turk, and redeemed his little land from the rule of the Turk. King Nicholas .was born In time to take a glorious part in that campaign for freedom. The great heroic figure of the movement, however, was Nicholas' father, Mirko, "the Sword of Montenegro," as he was called. Although Minco never ruiea, ne embodied the national spirit as few of his house had done. In war he was terrible, in peace he was par excellence the patriarch of the people. This man whom the Turks had such good reason to fear was. when his sword and shield were hung upon the wall, practically the only schoolmaster In the land. It was "the Sword of Montenegro" who taught the children of the feudal chiefs their three R's, and trained them to feats of hardihood and bravery. Danilo II. was slain by an assassin's dagger on the field of battle, and the Turks, in spite of the heroic valor of Mirko and his son, threw vast armies into the little mountain kingdom and again subjugated it Famine followed defeat, and cholera supervened upon famine, and in this Mirko, hero of so many fights, died when with his son he was tending the stricken. King Nicholas succeeded, thereto, to but the shadow of a sceptre, the skeleton of a dominion, while he hlmseir an uui shared the fate of the uncle In whose stead he was called to reign. How he quietly reorganised and rearmed his people, how by superb tactics and indomitable valor he won back his land from the oppressor and gave her new territory, is now part of the history of modern Europe. It is a fact that he raised a new spirit in the Montenegrins. They are but a handful?250,000 of them?but he made them one of the most formidable forces in Europe. In the meantime, he wrought In the art of peace as great a revolution as in the arts of war. He gave the country a constitution. Better still, he gave it a system of national education. Montenegro has produced many notable poets, bui. they had to sing their verses; they could not write them. This warrior-prince, however, made education as much a sine qua non as feats of arms. And he actually made his people work. There was In them a good deal of the old spirit of the brigand. The men did not toil; the labor of the farm was left to the women. They were fighters first and foremost, and when there was not an external enemy to buffet, they kept their hand in by means of the sanguinary vendetta. Nicholas himself sought a bride of his own nation, Mllena Petrovna Vucotlc, daughter of one of his own state senators, and she bore him three sons and six daughters. The Montenegrin princesses are among the most beauti/ul women in Europe. One of them is married to the Grand Duke Mikninieviteh of Russia, a second to the Grand Duke Nicholas Nlcholavitch a third to Prince Francis Joseph of Battenberg, while Princess Helena is, of course, queen of Italy. A curious feature of the present situation, therefore, is that the king of Italy, as a party to the Triple Alliance, is actively opposing his father-in-law, with whom in his h iart he actively sympathises.