The Abbeville press and banner. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, July 20, 1910, Image 6
- y
A RIVER.
A glimpse of the river?it glimmer?
1 trough the stems of the beeches;
Through the screen of the willows it shimmers
In low winding reaches;
Flowing so softly that scarcely
It seems to be flowing.
Cut the reeds of the low. little islands
Are bent to its going.
And soft as the breath of a sleeper
Its hearing and sighing.
In the coves where the fleets of the lilies 1
At anchor are lying.
It looks as if fallen asleen <
In the lap of the meadows, and smiling
Like a child in the grass, dreaming deep
Of the flowers and their golden beguiling.
]
A. glimpse of the river?it glooms
Underneath the black arcnes, I '
* Across it the black shadow looms.
And the eager crowd marches,
Where, washing the feet of the city. i
Strong and swift it is flowing;
On its bosom the ships of the nations
Are coming and going. '
Heavy laden, it labors and spends
In a great strain of duty
Hie power that was gathered and nursed
In the calm and the beauty.
Like thee, oh, my river, like thee,
May our lives in beginning and ending,
Fair in their gathering be
And great in the time of their spending.
^-Charlotte Becker, in the New- York Sun.
THE PERIL OF THE BLAST
By FRANKLIN WELLES CALKINS.
This story was told in a letter, received
by a boy friend from bis
brother, who had gone West and obtained
employment in a camp of rail1
way builders in the Snake River Pass.
"Three weeks ago we moved up
here, 9565 feet above sea level. We
are blowing rock cuts along the side
of a dizzy canon. Camp is on one <
side, the works on the other now, and c
we cross back and forth on a bridge
v made of rope over a narrow gorge. 1
It's teetery business, and no more (
than six men are allowed to cross at a i
time. i
"Just now we are working at a rock, <
cut that's more than 100 feet on the
upper alope, and there is no slope on t
the pther side, just a roadbed eigh- 1
teen feet wide at the bottom. 1
'"We throw 1000 tons of rock over
Into the canon at a shot, when our
foreman, old Joe Rogers, pushes the
slide of his battery. We load eighteen
or twenty holes which we have drilled
ten to twelve feet deep, putting twenty-five
pounds of black powder in
each hole.
''The powder goes into a pocket
which is blown in the bottom of the
hole by the use of stick dynamite.
Then an exploding cap attached to a
wire is lowered to the powder, and
the hole is tamped with dust and
land. The loose end of the wire is
V then attached to a lead wire which
? connects with an electric battery, and
all the shots are sent off at once.
"It rained hard all last Wednesday,
~ ' and while it was raining and blowing
in camp it was snowing and blowing
overhead, a fact which we didn't sufficiently
realize in our drenched quarv
ters. ,
"A blast had been ready to fire, or
nearly so, when the rain stopped us
from work, and Thursday morning
BveryDoay Dut tne cook ana two 01 us a
who had been detailed to cut wood *
were hustled out od the works. c
"A fellow named Quin Dawson and c
r were set to chop close to the lower e
edge of camp. We were making the*
Chips fly when we heard old Joe's
voice rolling across the canon:
"' 'Ware all! Battery! Battery!' .
"So we ran out of the woods near 1
to the first tents to look across and c
Dver into the canon. It's quite a sight r
from the camp side to see big rocks Tf
go bowling into the gulch, knocking
over tree3, hitting up puffs of dust
that spurt out like the smoke of can- ?
Qon shots. Every big bump sounds ?
like a cannon shot, too.
"They had in heavy charges in a 2
twenty-four-hole shot, and the blast *
Jarred the mountain even on our side. a
We saw a mighty upheaval of dust 1
and stones and felt the shock under ^
our feet, and then the echo of the *
shots and tne clatter ot tocks was drowned
in a bigger roar that sound- s
ed high over our heads.
"Quin, who had been sitting on a ;
atone, jumped to his feet and yelled: 1
"'Slide! Slide! Snowslide!'
"And then he ran for the woods ?
back of us. I was paralyzed for the J
minute, and then a big white wave
struck the camp in front of me. I saw J
tents, wagons, wheel-scrapers rolled
up and buried, and the first of the
slide shot by. ^
"Then in a flash the tide rose and *
swept me off my feet. I found my- J
self suddenly dropping down into the c
canon. I rode on the crest of a big 1
snow wave, lying on my back and go- s
ing feet first. *
"I can't say that I felt any fear; in
fact, there wasn't much time to be
afraid in, for my big drift slumped
into the creek channel, and I was f
buried so deep that the first sensation s
that came to me was of an awful si- ,
lence. {
"I was {jacked in tight, my ears j
and eves were closed, and I seemed ,
to be wound up in a frozen sheet. But ]
I wasn't hurt, and I wriggled a hole (
to turn round in. I was nearly in an ^
upright position, and I soon made j
standing room. When I got my eyes <
open the light was simply a clear cold (
whiteness*. It made my eyeballs ache. ,
"The snow was light and fine, and ]
not packed so hard as it had seemed
before I moved, and I quickly began
to badger my way upward. Taking \
slant that would give me fastest pro- ]
gress, I dug a hole big enough to ]
work in, and packed tne snow to one ;
side and behind me while I worked j
ahead.
"Presently my hands and fingers
got so numb that I had to stop and
thaw them out by breathing on them.
When I had done this I fished a big
bandanna handkerchief out of a pock- i
et, tore it in halves and wound each i
hand in a pieces. That helped some, '
and I went ahead till it seemed as if I :
must have been buried a hundred
feet deep. <
"I suppose, though, that I didn't
get very far with all my frantic pawing.
I was pretty tired when the snow
seemed to grow less dense, and my
mind got easier until my hands struck
a hard surface, and I found myself up
against a solid wall of rock.
*' 'Now.' thought I, 'if there's half
a chauce to get a foothold, I'll soon
push my way to daylight.'
"But there wasn't. I soon found
there was rock overhead as well a3 in
front. I had crawled up under the
roof of a shelving ledge, such a ledge
as I knew jutted out over Bowstring
Creek, which runs through the canon
under our camp.
"Suddenly, as I was treading and
digging to turn out from under the
ledge one of my feet went into a soft
slush. I felt the water oozing iu
round my ankle!
"I remembered the flood that was
now roaring down on the heels of the
rain, and I realized that its tearing
:urrent would fill all the snow that
had dropped into the canon in almost
no time. In fact, it was already filling
it, and I was in instant danger of
being drowned in the snow.
"I just lay over on my back, clawed
it the rocks and bored my way out
from under, all the time feeling the
"ising water slushing up at my feet.
The snow was lighter than it had
been, at least above the water, and 1
vormed along pretty fast till I could
Snd no rocks over my head.
"Then all at once my eyes popped
>ut into the open on the side of the
Irift, with the sun blazing all round
me. I yelled with joy and wallowed
>ut, sinking to my hips as I tried to
tvalk on the slope of the drift. -I
looked about. The ledge under which
Bowstring Creek ran was on one side.
[ had just crawled out from under it
?out of a ridge of snow which had
slumped over from the top of the
slide. I had slumped with it.
"If I'd gone under the bottom of
:he main jam I could hardly have escaped.
But I soon found that I wasn't
>ut yet?far from it. I was in a
locket, rocks that I couldn't climb on
>ne side, and shut in by a semicircle
>f drift.
"I lay on my breast and tried to
higgle my way to the top. I could
mly make a little headway by packng
and tramping the snow, building
i kind of leaning tower of hard snow
is I mounted by half inches.
" 'But,' thought I. 'I will get to the
op some time.' Yet in a minute 1
leard a rush of waves below, and
ooked down to see my notch filling
vith a whirlpool of water. The creek
iad broken through that neck ot
Irift and was hurling its flood against
he one I was climbing.
"I stood, too scared to move, for a
ninute; then I had a sensation as it
he world was moving, dropping out
rom under me. The drift I was
nounting?it must have been a narow
one?melted like the going of a
toap bubble, and I was plunging
ilong, fighting to keep at the top of a
oiling flood.
"There was just one immense fum?
~ *tro tor nnnrart rmf int.rt
Li ? OVTIOU. v/JL natvt ywutvu
ind over the lately emptied creek
:hannel, and I found myself swimning
in the cold current?swimming
or the land.
"I'm glad that I am like a duck in
he water. I was rolled under in the
ough and tumble a half dozen times.
?ut I came up spluttering, and forged
ihead till my feet hit ground, and
hen I scrambled for the nearest high
and.
"It was the blast that started the
nowslide. Nobody was hurt. Quin
?as lucky enough to run in the right
lirection, and the cook was up above
amp on the bridge hauling up watr."?Youth's
Companion.
Found a Buried Town.
Every once in a while excavation
n southern Arizona results in the disovery
of a buried village. The most
ecent discovery of this kind was
aade by Frank C. Erwin at his home,
mi loo from Hnrhisp
UUI Ui*?VU WM? Vw????W.
Three miles from his ranch Erwin
tarted to dig ail irrigation ditch.
)nly a few feet under the surface he
legan to uncover utensils of a shape
md material which indicated that
hey had been used by a race probably
is old as the Cibola, that strange peo>le
whose "Seven Famous Cities"
fas the lure that brought Father
siza and the negro Estevanicio from
he Spanish mission at Culiacan north
ilong the Senora River to the old city
>f Tabac, near Tucson, which expediion
was the beginning of civilization
n Arizona.
After digging deeper Erwin came
icross a wall, which he followed for
wenty feet. Further investigation
irought to light hundreds of bones
veil preserved, one skeleton being inact.
\VSien an attempt was made to
ake up the skeleton it fell to pieces
Vmong the treasures unearthed was
i slab on which were written curious
igures representing men and birds
ind animals. Erwin took several ol
he relics into Tombstone, and will
;end others to the Smithsonian Insti.ution.?Kansas
City Star.
To Vitalize the Synagogue.
Development of the social side of
;ongregational life, we believe, would
spell improvement in every other di ection.
It would make the synagogue
not only more popular, but alsc
nore influential. It would infuse
nnrp warmth and rfieaning into oui
eligious organizations. It would fos;er
fellowship and neighborliness
ivhich is, after all, one of the prime
purposes of all religion. Just because
modern life is as intricate and
iivisive as it is, every unifying effort
5f the synagogue would mean sc
nuch more.
The minister alone cannot do it
rhe people must do it. It must come
from the people. The congregation
must be democratic. Only when the
people themselves socialize the synagogue
will they throw into it mean*
ing, purpose, vitality.?Temple.
Grsat Profits in Coffee.
A Xew York coffee importer told a
r * ? a V> /I hf
House coinuimet tuc umci uaj ma.
the middleman's profit on coffee iE
this country is approximately fifteen
cents a pound against Germany's
seven cents' profit. He said that during
a period of many years the price
of coffee laid down at New York has
averaged seven and a half cents, and
the cost of roasting and preparing i<
two to two and a half cents, but the
consumer pays for this twenty-five
cents a pound and upward. Which is
more interesting light on the high
cost o? living.?Indianapolis News,
jj^Wv\N
Suggestion on Etiquette.
Special care is necessary in eating
fruit so that it may be done in as
delicate a way as possible. Pears and
peaches should be peeled with a silver
knife, cut in quarters and the pieces
taken up in che fingers, but if the
fruit is very juicy it would best be
eaten with a fork. Plums are taken
up in the fingers and eaten without
taking the stone in the mouth.
Oranges are cut crosswise with a fruit
knife, and the sections taken out with
an orange spoon or an ordinary teaspoon.
After eating fruit the tips of
the fingers should be dipped in a finger
bowl. The moistened fingers of
one hand may be touched lightly to
the lips. The napkin is then used to
dry the fingers and lips. One should
not lean over a finger bowl.?Mrs.
Samuel Armstrong, in the Boston
Post.
Suffrage Wouldn't Help, She Says.
Grace Falkner, one of the most
prominent workers of the Pennsylvania
Association Opposed to Woman's
Suffrage, has been making speeches
in various parts of Pennsylvania
against votes for women. "Women
do not want the vote," is her argument.
"The women who would vote,
should this privilege be granted to
them, are those who would do as their
husbands or the local political leader
dictated. A good looking, solt
tongued politician easily could get all
the women mill workers from a dozen
mills to vote the way he wished. As
for economic freedom, the average
workingman would be glad to have
his wife have as much of this as possible,
for then his responsibilities
would grow less and hers greater.
Suffrage will not abolish child labor
nor will it close saloons."?New York
Press.
Tribe of Pocahontas Remains.
The announcement that a monument
costing $5000 will be constructed
soon in memory of Poca|
Cheese'ancl Rice.?"fli
OS I to remove the flour. Put
*" = having two quarts 01 wa
jig q,/ rice boil steadily for tw
I OSS 2 saucepan. When cooke
! 1ZJ around -writti a fork, hob
es g 1 utes until it is light anc
*2- ^ grated cheese, tossing i
cS Now add a savory browi
m roast the day before, or
S3 <2 ( is a most nourishing an
' I the main viand of the m(
hontas brings to light the fact that
the descendants of the tribe of which
the historic Indian girl was a member
still remain on the banks of the Pamunkey
River in t.he wilds of northern
Virginia. There may be found
prototypes of the girl who saved the
life of John Smith, and there is enacted
each year a reproduction of that
incident. The Indians array themselves
in costume-j and portray tho
scenes of the early times with accuracy.
These Indians take pride in living
apart from other Indians and iri
preserving the traditions of their
forefathers. The tepee ha.s given
wav to the lumber-built house and
the redskins have come to live mucli
as the palefaces do, but the legends
of their ancestors are repeated with
reverence, and the Indians try to five
up to them. The tribe has 110 members.?New
York Press.
Human Nature and Its Changes.
"Say, Jen," said Katie, the brunette,
with white sidecombs in her
hair, "I see Mamie has bleached her
hair again. Ain't it terrible?"
"Yes, perfectly awful!" replied Jennie.
"She asked me if I would do
it if I were she, and I said, 'Yes.'
Don't she look perfectly dreadful?
and it's getting streaked already. You
could tell in a minute it was Bleached,
the rootsi are so dark."
"Sure. I noticed that!" responded
Katie. "And, say, did you see the
rag of a dress she had on yesterday?
And it's fit?gracious! Looked perfectly
dreadful, didn't it?"
"Perfectly dreadful," ec.'ioed Jennie.
"Wei!, she wanted a pattern, and
| I gave her the one of that dark blue
silk I had three years ego, " saia
Katie.
"You did?"
"Yes, I did."
"Oh!"
" And the hat she was wearing,"
continued Katie. -lDid you get your
optics on that?"
"Yes."
"Perfect sight, wasn't it?''
"Where did she get it?"
"Oh, down at the Moody's. I
helped her pick it out," was Katie's
reply. "Why?why?here comes
Mamie now," she continue}. "Hello,
Mamie, you dear, sweet thing. How
nice you look?too darling for anything!
"
"Yes, indeed," added Jennie. "You
do look perfectly charming. Say,
let's all go into Huyler's arid get some
| soda."
And the three friends walked away
| together.?New York Times.
j
rrniifc it a Girls' Den.
"It was a hotel room that showed
me how," gaid the wife of the junior
partner, as she proudly gathered together
six of her best friends late one
afternoon in the new "housewife
den" on the second floor of her suburban
home, and made tea for them
without calling the maid. "Honestly,
it was. I'd never have thought of it
if I hadn't gone on that business trip
two months ago with Nat."
"You certainly are cosy here," remarked
one of the girl visitors enviously,
as she glanced around the little
room on the second floor that was
JRPV^I^
full almost to overflowing when it
had six women in it and took every
feminine heart because of its dainty
"fixings."
"Am I not?" answered its owner.
"Our house is pretty and effective and
lovely for entertaining. But its big
hall and parlor, its almcst-as-big dining
room, all three opening into each
other and making up the whole first
floor, didn't give me a single cozy
nook. All of it was fine for receiving
formal visits and for giving dinner
parties, but when it came to chatting
with friends like all of you, that
first floor never worked at all. I am
a woman who hates to sit in her bedroom.
I felt I must have a place really,
entirely and solely my own. But
how to make one I didn't see until I
was off on that trip.
"It doesn't matter what city we
were in, but we staid three days at
a most splendiferous hotel. On the
second day I came across, by pure
chance, this dear brass teakettle. I
couldn't let it go, and I won't tell you
how much I paid for it. As I walked
out of the store, just hugging the kettle
to me, I had an inspiration. I'd
noticed an electric iron in my hotel
room. I'd have a cup of tea.
"So I bought some tea, ana inen 1
hurried up to the room. It was then
about 4 o'clock, and hubby was somewhere,
selling some man about a million
dollars' worth of machinery. I
knew he wouldn't get back till six.
I'd have my little tea party all by my
lonesonys; I was just hungry for tea.
"I took the electric lro?and turned
it on its back in a soap dish. I filled
the tea kettle, put it on the iron that
waii upside down, and in no time at
all I had water boiling. My, and oh,
my; that tea was good!
"I don't need to tell any of you
girls how quickly a woman's mind
works sometimes. Before 'my man*
got in?and he really had sold a big,
big bill?I'd planned this room all
out. It just came to ?e, and now
isn't it the finest, most convenient
rash the rice through several waters
; it Into boiling water slightly salted,
ter to half a pound of rice. Let the
enty minutes, without covering the
sd, drain thoroughly, then toss it
iing It over the fire for a few min1
fluffy. Then stir in a quantity of
iround until the cheese is melted.
i erravv. This may be left from the
made from stock. Cheese tind rice
d appetizing dish and will serve as
sal.
place you can possibly imagine! I let
hubby in here sometimes, though I
generally 'shoo' him out. This ij a
woman's room, never to be profaned
by cigar or pipe smoke, unless, oh,
well, I do let him come in and smoke,
late in the evening. But I always
open the windows very wide the next
morning, and keep them open at least
a solid hour.
"An electric iron on its back was
only an expedient, of course. I hunted
around the city until I found this
darling little electric heater. That's
thp only part of the 'plant,' girl3.
You see this table here. Well, in a
moment I can whip away the heater,
hitch on an iron instead.?I keep one
handy right in the table drawer?
and there I am all ready to press out
any little things that I feel I'd better
not trust to Mary or Susie. I really
do a lot of ironing up here, and it's
a delight.
"I had this music cabinet downstairs.
I really didn't need it there.
It comeB in ideally up here. I ve converted
it into a sort of little china
closet, you see, for my own private
stock of tea things. Of course, I've
gradually picked up these cups. The
tea service itself's an heirloom. My
grandmother used it.
"You've already seen my tins of
biscuits and sweet crackers in my
cabinet, and I'll have you notice that
these little tea packets contain nine
different sorts of tea. Sometimes I
like to drink one kind, sDmetimes another.
I can make tea to suit everyone's
mood and taste, including my
own. I tell you, girls, I'm getting to
be a great connoisseur in tea drinking.
"As you see. I can make tea almost
without getting up. It's the most
'comfy' way. I never have to bother
I to call a. maid when I want a cup.
Sometimes a cup is very delicious late
at night.
"There's sugar always ready here,
in this quaint little Japanese covered
bowl, and about the middle of each
afternoon it is a part of Susie's regular
work to bring up this tiny, tiny
pitcher of milk and one lemon sliced,
and put them away in my cabinet.
Then I'm ready for any visitors; that
is, any one of my very best friends
like you. We can be 'chummy up
here, as we couldn't possibly be downstairs.
We can tell each other secrets
that are real secrets.
"No, I won't call it a boudoir. It's
a girl's den. Hubby has his own just
across the hall. He gives me presents
for mine, and I give him presents
for his."?Newark Call.
I
Variant Spellings.
I Among variant spellings of names
perhaps the most remarkable instance
a rtoo/i nf vaar 157S.
UWUUIO v? ?*vv- ^ ?
relating to the property o:! the Raleigh
family. It bears the signatures
of Raleigh, senior, and his two sons,
of whom one has special interest as
being the earliest known signature of
Sir Walter. By the father the name
is written "Ralegh," by the elder son
"Rawlegh" and by Sir Walter it is
written "Rauleygh." By Queen Elizabeth
it was written "Rawley," as then
pronounced. It also appeared in his
lifetime as "Rawlye." ? London
Chronicle.
? ?
: WHEN ADVERTISING 5
S BEGAN. :
i
? ?? o ??? ????
M. T.?In these times when advertising
one's business or wares has ;
been reduced to a fine science, it
would be interesting for one who is ,
engaged in it to know who was the
first to introduce it to the world and
when. I have several times sought
information on the subject, but never
with any degree of success. Can The
Times enlighten me?
Advertising in soma form or other
is really as old as the institution of
buying and selling. In the days of j
ancient Rome and Athens merchants ,
were wont to employ "barkers," or
criers, who went about the streets
shouting.out the wares and alluring
prices of their employers. They
howled about "bargains" in those
days and caused rushes of trade, we
may suppose, just as the advertisements
of to-day draw the throngs of
shoppers.
Presently came written notices
that were displayed on blank walls
for the edification of the purchasing
public. In the early days of London
the shopkeepers had clerks who were
stationed in front of the stores ' to
shout their wares much after the
fashion that used to obtain in Baxter
street, when the "barker" came into
his own. These clerks were wont to
preface their vocal advertisement of
wares by shouting:
"What do ye lack? What do ye
lack?"
The first genuine newspaper advertisement
of which there appears to be
any authentic record was printed in
The Mercurius Politicus in London in
January, 165Z. it was a puDiiener 8
anouncement and read thus:
"Irenodia Gratulatoria, an Heroick
Poem," being a congratulatory panegyrick
for my Lord General's late
return, summing up his successes in
an exquisite manner. To be sold by
John Holden, in the New Exchange,
London. Printed by Tho. Newcourt,
1652.
The new method of letting the public
know where it could get what it
wanted was quickly snapped up, but
in its early stages it furnishes some
most remarkeble examples of advertising.
One of these quaint notices,
appearing in a London publication
soon after the introduction of newspaper
advertising, reads thus:
THE PUBLICK WILL PLEASE
TAKE NOTICE.?There ran away
from my place on Thursday of last
week an apprentice boy, called Dick
Noodler, with a smutty complexion,
and black teeth, and he is as ugly as
sin. Ten shillings deward will be
paid to any person bringing him back
to me.
Soon afterward this remarkable notice
appeared in a Dublin newspaper,
supposedly one of the first newspaper
advertisements in Ireland:
RAN AWAY FROM PATRICK
McDALLAGH.?Whereas my wife,
Mrs. Bridget IJcDallagh, has gone
away with herself and left me with
her four small children and her poor
blind mother, and nobody else to look
after the home and house, and I hear
j has taken up with Tim Gugan, the
, lame fiddler, the same that was put in
I the stocks last Easter for stealing
! Bardy Doody's gamecock, this Is to
! give notice that I will not pay for
j bite or sup on her account to man
J or mortal and that she had better 1
I never show the mark of her ten toes
near my home again.
PATRICK McDALLAGH.
N. B.?Tim had better keep out of
my sight.
?From the New York Times.
An Early WaJ! Paper.
On repapering a room in Brad;
bourne Ha^l, Derbyshire, in 1882, I
I found, partly covered by an old oak j
! cupboard, considerable remains of '
j quite early eighteenth century wall
| paper, of pale green tint, with a flowi
ing pattern in darker color on it.
j This paper was made, in squares of
i about twenty inches, and I was able
to rescue two or more complete
I ni/inntr T> ViaH hoon nHntfid fin rnthfif i
WWW
thick paper from wood cut blocks,
and each square was nailed up with
coarse iron tacks about one and a
half inches apart, each tack being
run through squares or washers of
brown leather, so that both tack |
heads and washers showed all around
each square of paper. It is possible
that this wall paper was of late seventeenth
century date.
Bradbourne Hall, in the lower
Peak, is a pictureque house, almost (
unaltered, of the time of James I., |
having been then fashioned from the
I canonical house of the Augustins of
j Dunstable. It was just the place?
"far from the madding crowd"? )
i where curious details of domestic i
j decorations would survive.?Notes j
and Queries.
Warned in Advance.
When the pious looking lady entered
the bird shop and stated her ,
need of a talking parrot the proprietor
"reckoned 'e'd got the' werry
thing the lady wanted."
"Course, ma'am," he said, "you
don't want a wulgar bird. This e're
one, now was brought over by a missionary.
Talks like a reg'lar 'ymn
book, 'e does. I wouldn't let 'im go
if I didn't think you'd give 'im a re- |
spectable 'ome. Thirty-five shillings
that bird, ma'am."
"You'll soon know!" screeched Polly.
"You'll soon know!"
"Dear me. How quaint!" gushed
the lady; and thirty-five shillings
changed hands. "What does he mean i
by 'you'll soon know,' I wonder."
"It's 'is only blemish, ma'am," i
smiled the blrdj-shop man. " 'E's got
into 'is 'ead that everyone's wonderful
anxious to find out wot a missionary
sez when 'e 'its 'is thumb with a
'ammer."?Ideas.
Everybody is Handicapped.
Nearly everybody is handicapped
in some way. So don't fancy you are
unique in having things to put up
with and fight against. We are here [
nnrl tn pnnniior I
Japan's postal service is the cheapest
in the world. Letters travel for
two sen?about seven-tenths o? a
ceuny. j
S?^.?<^.?-<^,?-^?? ^?-^O-^yO^y?
?^.?-"^? ^?-^?-^?^flj^yeD
Waterways and Good Roads.
The custodians of the pork barrel
in Congress, or, as they prefer to be
known, framers of the annual rivers
and harbors bill, have brought in a
measure proposing to expend the coming
fiscal year the sum of $52,000,000
upon waterways throughout the
country.
Senator Burton, chairman of the
National Waterways Commission and
an undisputed authority, is vigorously
fighting tjie proposition. He ie
against piecemeal work, in the first
place, and, v t is of more importance,
he is ei.i.rely opposed to many
of these iridescent and impractical
projects.
No level-headed man objects, per
se, to the symmetrical improvement
of waterways in this country. Navigable
rivers and harbors are indispensable
factors in the equation of transportation.
Wei must have them if the
development of the nation is to proceed*
unimpeded.
But, legitimate waterways are one
thing, and pork barrel projects another,
and vastly different, thing. It
is a safe bet that forty per cent, of
this $52,000,000 is political pork,
pure and simple, expressed in projects
to widen impossible creeks or dredge
hopeless harbors, neither of which
ever can or ever will figure ifi either
local or interstate commerce.
If half of this year's proposed appropriation
should be diverted from
theoretic streams and hypothetical
harbors and spent instead on national
1 J- 1 *tta fiVinulH avnar.
gUUU I UclUS pi UJCUlO, rr c ouuutu oApv*ience
a national impulse toward prosperity
near incalculable.
Even conceding for the sake of argument,
that every penny of this fabulous
$52,000,000?about the same
amount, by the way, thrown away in
obsolete warships now going to the
scrap-heap?is founded on reason, it
would still be incumbent on Congress
to provide at least proportionately for
good roads.
In their most highly developed aspects,
waterways can only benefit a
fraction of America's population. De?
cent highways throughout the nation
benefit every class of population,
stimulating rural and urban development,
lessening the exorbitant cost of
living, increasing the national wealth,
so that in the near future the immeasurable
drain ot such luxuries as battleships
and academic waterways will
bear les3 heavily.
It is the people's money that Congress
is frittering away to reinforce
personal political reputations. Today
the people are demanding that a
portion of the sums taken from them
in taxes be spent upon good roads?a
project interesting every man, woman
and child living and yet to be born in
this country.?Editorial in the Atlanta
Constitution.
Good Roads-Vs. a Naval Scrap-Heap.
Warships of Uncle Sam to the value
of 150,735,789 are soon to go to the
crap-heap, according to Leslie's Weekly,
because in twenty years' time they
have grown worthless and obsolete.
Eleven protected cruisers, three unprotected
cruisers, ten monitors and
a group of smaller and cheaper vessels
authorized since 1883, now go to
the naval cemetery, which means that
more than $50,000,000 is virtually interred.
Styles and patterns in war
vessels change perennially. Should
these once sea terrors now go against
an ordinary enemy, they would be
knocked into mincemeat. Other and
more expensive types must take their
place.
Suppose half of that $50,000,000
had been spent upon good road?
throughout America!
We should have had the foundation
of a national auxiliary transportation
system which would annually mean
hundreds of millions of dollars to the
farmers of this country, and to every
class of population in this country.
ti4no ornnrf rnnrta rln nnf
UUUH.C na:ouipo, . ?
deteriorate, at least not into worthle9eness.
Men-of-war are built upon the basis
of hypothetical usefulness. Good
roads are built upon a reality.
The Appian Way, centuries old,
still stretches out from ancient Rome.
The Simplon Pass is practically a?
smooth and firm as the day it was
laid.
Men-of-war crumble', the stupendous
fortune they represent vanishes,
while the mythical foe delays his coming.
Good roads appreciate in value with
each month, pay their own up-keep
and return dividends amenable only
to the computation of the decades.
The more than fifty millions spent
upon these effete vessels is the premium
the nation pays upon a peace
policy. In moderation that is essential.
But a tithe of that enormous premium
spent upon a constructive policy
of highway development would in
its returns pay several times over the
cost of these decaying vessels in add.
-ti-1 ll. V.
ing untold actual ana potential weaitu
to the wealth to the nation.?Atlanta
Constitution.
The AnComobile Ward.
F. H. Elliott; secretary of the
American Automobile Association,
was discussing at a dinner in New
York the automobilist's well known
enthusiasm.
"A friend of mine," he said, "visited
recently the automboile ward of
a lunatic asylum. They have, you
know, automobile wards now.
"It was a large, airy room, and
along the wall were ranged some two
dozen cots; but; of th<? inmate? r.ot a
trace was to be seen.
" 'But where are the inmates?' my
friend asked the physician.
" " ? ' vauIV
" ' 1 ne lllBJUiea; ncu> me ivpj.
:'Oh, they're all here. They're under
the beds tinkering with the springs.* "
Washington Star.
Stymied.
Mr. Isaacs (who has been hit by
golf ball)?'You 'ave 'urfc me; you
shall pay for thith. I vill 'ave 10s.
damages."
Golfer?"But, my good man, didn't
yon hear me shout "fore'?"
Mr. Isaacs?"No; but I vill accept
it."?Tatler.
Profit In . Hogs.
The Mt. Sterling '(Ky.) Democrat
6ays that last year Sam Turley, a
leading farmer of Montgomery County,
bought three gilts, for which he^
naid $27. From them he got his
meat hogs for a large family, the *
value of the hogs killed being fully
$225; sold ten 219 pound shoata for
$219 and has three sows left, one
with eight pigs, and one due to pig In
a few days, all valued at $75; a total
of $516 from an investment of $27
one year. Who can beat this and
what business would beat it?
GRATIFYING PPAISE.
Ex-Congressman Ferrell, of New Jfcfr.
sey, Makes a Statement.
Thomas M. Ferrell, of Glassbpro,
ex-member of Congress, former State
T rt f Ann a flnn_
OCUaVULf auu Wlicvivt vi tuvoi uaviuuv
al Revenue for New
B Jersey, says: "I suffered
a great deal
from a lameness
across my back, accompanied
by sharp,
darting pains in my
loins. I was unable
to assume a comfortable
position and was
at a loss to know how
to obtain relief. I
found it through the
use of Doan's Kidney Pills. I recommend
them as a reliable kidney remedy."
Remember the name?Dran's. For
sale by all dealers. 50 cents a box.
l?rtofot?_HCnKiii?n Ta Pn ffo 1A V V
j fc' UObV.4 'iliiiUUt U W.| *? >.
One life lost for every 1,440,000
passengers carried is the record of
ateam passenger vessels for 1908, according
to the annual report of the
United States steamboat inspection
service, which has just been made
public.
Take a Foot-Bath To-night/
After dissolving one or two Allen's FootTabs
(Antiseptic tablets for the foot-bath)
in the water. It will take out all soreness,
jmarting and tenderness, remove foot odom
and freshen the feet. Allen's Foot-Tabe
instantly relieve weariness and sweating orv
inflamed feet and hot nervousness of the
feet at night. Then for comfort throughout *
the day snake Allen's Foot-Ease, the antiseptic
powder, into your shoes. Sold everywhere,
25c. Avoid substitutes. Samples of
Allen's Foot-Tabs mailed Free, or our regular
size sent by mail for 25c._ Address .
Allen S. Olmsted, Lc Roy, N. Y. Mj
Foot-Tabs for Foot-Tubs. B
Tongue Slip. , B
Representative Washburn, toast- H
master at the prorogation dinner of H
the Legislature last night, told a story Q
of a pastor who, coming to a new par- H
lsh, got his words slightly twisted in H
his announcement. Said he: "I hav? H
come here to heal the dead, cast ont H
the sick and raise the devil." B
Another ministerial friend of Wash- Dj
barn's, speaking to a congregation, fl
remarked: "I am sorry to see so H
many absent faces I used to shake
hands with."?Boston Record. 2H
Some fifty thousand cancer expert- lH
ments are made every year in Eng- Bfl
land.
A Package Mailed Free on Request of H
MUNYON'S I
PAW-PAW PILLS I
M The best Stomach and Ifl
Liver Pills known and
K* a positive and speedjr H
cure for Constipation, HB
Indigestion, 'Jaundice,
^ Biliousness, Sou* Stom- Hfl
arh Headache, and all
and values of Munyon's PawPaw
tonic and are made from the
juice of the Paw-Paw fruit. I unties- HB
ltatingly recommend these pills as being
the best laxative and cathartic
ever compounded. Send us post^Juor^H
letter, requesting a free package* of
Munyon's Celebrated Paw-Paw Laxa-HH
tlve Pills, and we will mail same free IB
of charge. MUNYON'S HOMOEO-^B
PATHIC HOME REMEDY CO.,
and Jefferson Sts., Philadelphia, Pa.
I Are Best For Your Table JNjji
I Because they are made flgg
of the choicest materials
and guaranteed t6 be AH
absolutely pure.
Libb/s Veal Loaf makes a HH
delightful dish for lunch- In
eon, and you will find WBM
Libby's
Vienna Sausage
q Corned Beef fl9
Pork and Beans fBm
Evaporated Milk 9H
| equally tempting for any HH
meal. BH
Have a supply of Libbjr's H9|
in the house and you
will always be prepared
for an extra guest. ^
I You can buy LiftyY at Hj
all grocer's.
Libby, McNeill
& libby
| ChicAfd