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^ ~ ~~ ~ _ ISSVED^EXt-VEESL^ l. m. geist & sons, Pubiiahers.} % ^antilg Deirsgager: jfor the {promotion of titt political, gorial, SflrituUaral, and Comtnei-dal gntygsts of the fjtoglt. {TBRM38iN'oVE0coiTTFAiTg'c4DTY8ANCK' ESTABLISHED 1855. YORKYILLE, S. C., SATURDAY, DECEMBER 20, 1902. 3STO. 102. TIE Ml By llev. Cliar Anthor of "In His Steps," "Ro Copyright, 1901, by Charles M. Sheldon SYNOPSIS OF PRECEDING CHAPTERS. John Gordon, heir to riches, refuses a position in his father's bank and leaves home, father and sister to work for the people of the slums. Sordid money getting and a life of frivolity are revolting to him. Gordon's society sweetheart, Luella Marsh, refuses to share his life at Hope House, "an oasis of refuge and strength" among tenements, saloons and vaudivllle halls. They part. Gordon goes 10 ?iupe House and meets its head, Miss Grace Andrews. He decides to join the slum settlement. His friend, David Barton, a successful "yellow" journalist with a bad cough, asks him to conduct a reform page in the Daily News, edited by one Harris. Gordon considers the offer. The offer tempts Gordon, but he scores "yelldw" journalism. Editor Harris overhears the conversation, but gives no sign when he joins Gordon and Barton. Harris offers Gordon $500 a month to edit a slum reform page. Barton's cough grows worse. Gordon refuses Harris' offer because he thinks Harris wants the page for sensational, not reform, purposes. CHAPTER III?Continued. David Barton sat up and exclaimed sharply: "Do you mean to say that' Miss Marsh refuses to live with you in Hope House?" ! "She does refuse, but I did not give her time, I am afraid, to give her reasons." "Time for reasons! How much time does she want?" Barton went on savagely. "Hope House Is not good enough for her, eh? She Is not willing to go with the man who loves her into such a burden bearing life! She loves her nice, clean, soft, easy, social position more than she loves the man! No, I tell you," Barton silenced his friend, who made a gesture of dissent. "The - ? a m? gins or inis age are 1101 u&e iuusc ui our fathers. They are not willing to begin In a small, economical way and share their husbands' privations. They want big, expensive establishments right off. They have no Idea of any sort of life except one of luxury and social successes. To my mind, you're well rid of her!" "No, no, David! Not that! I ought not to have made such a test You do not know her as I do." "I don't want to either. Isn't it for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer? If I were the woman you loved, wouldn't I go with you anywhere, John? You know I would, mean, selfish animal that I am. If I were a woman and had the love of John Gordon, I wouldn't even ask him where he was going. I would simply go. That's the reason I say you're well rid nf tior Sho's not worth v of vou. John." "But you have never loved any one, David!" cried John Gordon In great distress, for he was nearer saying a sharp word to his friend than at any time since their friendship began. "I love you, John, more than this selfish woman ever loved. But I'm afraid that's not saying very much. Wouldn't I die for you?" "I believe you would, David." "Well, this woman wouldn't even live for you." "It's harder to live than to die sometimes," John Gordon answered, with a sigh. "I tell you she's not worthy of you, John. 'Mend your broken heart or get another.'" Barton sang the first line of a popular music hall ballad. "No woman is worthy of a man If she refuses to accept his terms when they are as reasonable and as necessary as yours. But it has hit you hard, hasn't it?" For answer John Gordon laid his head down on the table. Barton eyed him sympathetically, but offered no word of consolation. After awhile he muttered: "Confound these women! They make more trouble than all the men put together. The young fellow seems to have sustained a compound fracture. But It'll heal In time. Good thing he's got a steady job. Hope House will give him employment" He lay quiet and after a little Gordon rose and walked Into the other room. He stayed there until he heard Barton begin to cough again, when he instantly returned to his friend's side to find him sitting up on the couch, his head between his hands. This time the coughing was of short duration, and Barton exclaimed the instant he was able to speak: "I can tell time by my cough, it's so regular. I shall miss it when It leaves. The last one tonight. I usually wind it up about half past 10." "David, have you consulted a doctor?" "Not today." "Any time?" "Certainly." "What does he say?" "Just what you and Harris say. Quit work and go to Colorado. I can't Don't bother about it. I won't go, that's all. I've begun to get attached to the cough, It has shown such an affection for me." He straightened up and laughed at the look in his friend's face. Gordon was only partly assured. "It will kill you." "First time anything ever did." "You have no right to neglect it." "Neglect it? Don't I nurse it day and night? No cough ever had better care than mine. I give it the best the patent medicine show affords." "It will be the death of you." "All right," Barton said cheerfully. "Rather die from my cough than from a stupid, thoughtless trolley car. By the way. John, did yon ever think of TOMER. les M. Sheldon. bert Hardy's Seven Days," etc. the difference between being run over by a horse and wagon and an automobile?" "I never gave It much thought." "More people get run over by automobiles than by horses, so the facts show. You see a man can dodge a horse because he?the horse?is alive. But an automobile? Let's change the subject Give me your programme." "My programme!" v "Your programme as a reformer. What are you going to do? What lies in your mind? John"? David Barton swiftly changed from the careless, flippant manner he had assumed over his physical condition, and John Gordon Jistantly knew the friend who loved him was talking now out of his great serious heart. "John, if you are really going to try to make the old world better you've held out your arm to a wrestler who will give you the struggle of your life. I want to help. I don't believe it will amount to anything?the struggle, I mean. And maybe not the help- either. But tell me your heart's desire." "Well, then," John Gordon answered, while his whole expression glowed with his real deep religious enthusiasm and a pride that swept his thought even of Luella Marsh out of existence, "I have a programme. First, I plan to live at Hope House as long as I can be of use there or as long as I can from that place in the city learn the city. It may be Ave years, it may be ten. If it is ten, I shall be only forty. A man cannot do much public work worthy of the name until he is forty." "History and biography say otherwise. but never mind." muttered Barton. "Go on." "My plans of course do not cover possibilities that may come into my experience at the end of my residence in Hope House. But 1 have dreamed of many things. I don't mean book knowledge, but live, personal knowledge of people. Not the kind that makes a man a professor of sociology In the university, but the kind that makes a man want to chinge bad laws or make good ones; the tind of knowledge of people tkfcLtEzra&iuul wljen, pp. said. 'Woe .s me if 1 'preach not the gospel;' the kind of kiowledge of people that compels a man to see in every other man a universe <f eternal value and eternal happiness." "There are mighty fev people in this city that think of run-cbwn-at-the-heel humanity after that faslion," muttered JD(t I IU1J tl&iUU. 1 LIUU 4UIU U OUCUV.C uc asked: "Who's against you in ill this?" "Selfish greed, ecclesiatical pride in the churches. political rotfcnness in the city management, cynical indifference on the part of cultured nen and women, whisky, yellow press, business interests wherever they toich financial loss, if reform calls for slcrifice; foreign born and foreign sluped classes, but most of all the opposltou of high bred apathy which grows out of the soil of irreligion." "And who is on your sid(?" Barton asked almost mechanically, in a low tone. "God. all good men and wonen in the churches, and there are many a rising sentiment among young mefi against municipal partisanship, a gradjally rising journalism which in timewill demand the extinction of yellow journalism, which is an excrescence tint carries in large measure its own lestruction, and a rising tide of poptiir passion against the saloon as anlnstitu tion and for more equal opportmities In the field of struggle for huma happiness." "You left out the largest itemn the list of forces against reform." "What's that?" "The people themselves." "Of course 1 realize that," JohnGordon replied slowly. "But it war not the people that crucified Jesus. Itwas the scribes and Pharisees." "The people yelled. 'Crucify him!" "The rabble, you mean." "What's the difference?" "I Ion*t ku?w exactly, but the rable is not the people." "Miplity line distinction.'' Baron She put the book in his hands. deny that the common people are an ungrateful lot. You heal ten lepers, and only one out of the ten will ever thank you for it" I "What difference does that make to me If they're healed?" "Heap of difference to them, though. I suppose you know that even the politicians don't get In Miss Andrews' way so much as the people themselves. They don't know enough to make the general good of greater concern than their particular good. They're an ungrateful lot, the people are." "Not all of them. But even if they were, I don't know as that Is any reason for letting them alone. Jesus probably knew that only one of the ten lepers would return to give thanks, yet he healed them all." "They must be mighty ashamed of themselves by this time," said Barton wearily. Gordon Instantly noted it. "You're tired out. Not another word tonight. Can't 1 do anything for you7 No? You will call me if you need me?" "Yes, of course. You know where your old room is. Just make yourself at home. I gave orders to William when your things came to get your room reader. Sound sleep to you." In the moraing the friends breakfasted at a clubroom near by, where Barton had bachelor quarters at table, and John Gordon noted with concern the face of Barton, which showed marks of wakefulness. "I coughed once or twice just to keep In practice. And at 0 o'clock I went off again just as a reminder of getting up time. But don't you worry. I'll be all right when I get used to It." He laughed lightly and accompanied Gordon part way down into the city, leaving him at the point where the Hope House district began, after exacting a promise from him that he would take dinner with him at 7 that evening. John Gordon went at once to Hope House and had a conference with Miss Andrews. "There is no reason why I should not begin my work at once." Gordon said. "The trouble is"?Miss Andrews spoke with a slight smile?"you are not like the average resident. More than half of my people during the last ten years have left me to enter their life work. Now I understand"? "This is my life work," said Gordon gravely. "It is a matter of both life and , death, Mr. Gordon. But let us arrange a definite programme," she added hastily, as If disturbed by some Idea for- J elgn to this conference. "How would { you like a tenement house tour to begin with ?" "I will do whatever you suggest I am sure that, whatever It is, It will be just the right thing to do." ( "Here is obedience for you! Will you always be as tractable?" "I hope so." "Very well." She hesitated a Itao- ^ -ment. "Suppose you go ont with Faro. ^ He is making a report of the block west f of Bowen street You can help him." For a week John Gordon and Ford, ; the university student, made a special t study of a block of tenements In the Hope House district. Ford took kodak ^ pictures of alleys and back yards and c stairways and groups of tenement chll- a dren and Inanimate groups of garbage ( and stifling narrow courts and displays i of soiled and tattered wash and every- t thing else except the smells, as Gordon a said, and he and Ford took them without the aid of a camera. Gordon tabu- j luted statistics, oirtn ana aeatn rate, g density, nationality, disease, occupation, religion and absence of it, number of people In single rooms, quality of ? food used, drink and drunkenness, sa- ? loons in block and their revenue, to- <3 getlier with all other items that bore ^ on the life of the lives in that ulcer of a the city. 1, At the end of the week Gordon had j, readied some conclusions. ? "What can be done about bettering ? conditions? The people in the tenements are victims to a large degree of e conditions that they are unable to bet- c ter. The owners of the property! v There's the vital point. How to reach c them?" c For answer Miss Andrews took down s from the house library a volume con taining a list of property owners in t Hope House neighborhood. Before giv- J ing it to Gordon she said sadly: "You 1 must not let this list disturb your general purpose. Of course It will not do <] that. But I am sure you want all the I facts." f "That is Just what I want," said t Gordon, wondering a little at Miss An- v drews' gravity, although she was al- Ij ways calmly serious. v She quietly, but with the same man- e ner of doubtful hesitation, put the liook d in his hands and went into the hall to answer a summons. p John Gordon opened the volume and t began to run down the names in the f list. He was alone at the time, and in s thinking back over the experience he was able to recall the strange sensa- d tion he had of isolation from every n friend, even Barton, whom he had not Ii seen l'or several days. This feeling of a isolation was so unusually strong that he had to tight against the falsehood c that there was no tie of friendship in r his work, that he stood alone in the struggle for humanity. h Name after name of agents or firms f or companies having control of the n property around Hope House hud been read by him. and he hud not reached fi the block he hud been studying, for his v interest deepened every moment as he C recognized familiar names, fumiliar in t< Ihe commercial and social world. s He turned over a page and came to a he section marked "Waterside," and e he second name he read was "Rufus e ? nmnlukHo ln/H/?nHr?cr PTUIUUU, ?hiu uuiuuvm >uu<vuuub t4 Hvnership of several of the worst buses in tlie block. He read the name fi lith heightening color and went on, cl Ad near the top of the opposite page t( b saw the name of Philo H. Marsh s< all numbers crediting him with own- ti iri half a dozen tenements. Glancing o aitke bottom of the page, Gordon p nAul the same name agaiu as the own- tl c^)f property which, by reference to tlimap of the appendix, he identified, s1 bwomparlson with his own draft of thi block, as saloon and vaudeville p prAerty. a I I "Luella's father!" The Idea that for years the woman to whom he had given his affections bad Idled in the luxury of her home, kept in t^be possession of the soft, easy things <^f social luxury by means of money that had the taint of human misery and-sbame and sin on it caused him to revolt against the whole cruel social Indifference of that jmri OI lUf BWitti vrunu icpicocuicu by the facts in the boolf. before him. "Luella's father and mine also!" he added. He leaned hie head on hie hand, and his face grew stern. Miss Andrews, coming back to the library, paused in the doorway and stood there a moment looking Intently at him. CHAPTER IV. match and I V ISS ANDREWS had I k. A come into the room I l\/l and up to the table I I before John Gordon AJ raised his head. "These names"? "You found them. Of course I intended you should. I am sorry for you." Miss Andrews spoke sadly. "Sorry for me! Sorry for tbem, Miss Andrews.' 1 am not altogether surprised to find my father's name here. )Ut Mr. Marsh"? } He was silent a moment. "Mr. Marsh?" Miss Andrews asked, md John Gordon, who had been wonlering If he could telh; Miss Andrews inythlng about Luell$, realized that ihe was In total ignorance of Luella md her father. "Mr.^Marsh is senlorrmember of the Irm of Marsh, LyoVi Humber, elecrlcians. He Is an am* friend of my ather. I have known him since I was i boy and always respected him. ?It vas a great surprise to me to find ^is lame here." "Why should it be?" Miss Andrews [uestioned calmly. "Business in many if its regular methods Is uot noted tor i refined and loving expression of the jolden Rule. Most of the names in that 1st are names of men who fare sumpuously every day and are counted mong the best citizens." "I've made up my mind what to do," dim Gordon said irrelevantly. "I am ;oing to see my father, and"? "And what?" "I won't promise until 1 have seen ilm. But you know better than I do hat the city ordinances are violated a ozeu times in the Waterside district he overcrowding, the plumbing, the bseuce of lighting, are all In direct vioitiou of every ordinance on the subset. Scores of the tenants complained hat their landlords refused to do anybing." Miss Andrews said nothing, but she ycd John Gordon with her customary alinness. It was the calmness of one vho has been through the entire hell if political apathy and municipal Inompotency and criminal neglect and till preserves Its equanimity. "Let me know the result of your Inervlew, please." she finally said as olin Gordon lapsed Into a silent broodng. He weut luto the business city next lay and entered the bank of which tufus Gordon was president with a eeling that he strove to subdue and he prayer that he might not be prooked into saying some things that turned In his heart. At the same time rhen he was once in his father's presnce he begun to doubt his ability to liscuss the facts calmly. Mr. Rufus Gordon showed no sur- f rise at the sight of his son. although lie two had not met since that event- 1 ul day when John Gordon had taken omewhut foimal leave of his home. "Will you take a seat?" Rufus Gor.on spoke with the cold politeness he night have shown any man who had 11 all probability come to negotiate for . loan. John Gordon remained standing and anie at once to the point of his erand. t "Father, we have decided each to go is own way. but that does not mean hat we are never to have anything lore to do with each other, does It?" "When you are tired of your present A uolishness. you can come back." There s ras the faintest suggestion In Rufus Jordou's manner of relenting in his c one and attitude. The lips trembled lightly, and the eyes rested for Just n instant on the sou's face before 1 omlng back to the apparently indiffer- f nt gaze that had been directed at the ible. ) "1 have not eonio to talk of that, ither. It Is impossible for me to hange my purpose. What I have come 1 i see you about is this: You control 1 line tenant property in Waterside disict, Bowen street, two blocks south 1 f Hope House. Do you know from f ersonal knowledge the condition of r lat property?" Instantly over Rufus Cordon's face J ivept an angry wave of color. a "It Is none of your business! This Is art of your contemptible meddling as reformer in other people's affairs!" t "But it Is my business! IT is the business of every man. Father, do you know the horrible condition of that property and the awful condition of the people living there?" Rufus Gordon made no answer, but the anger was evidently deepening in him. John Gordon waited a moment. All bis accumulated passion growing out of what be had seen and heard during that one short week in Hope House was In danger of rising like a torrent against his own futber. But when be spoke ft was with an earnestness that revealed his attempt at self mastery. "Nos. 17 and 19, owned by you, father, contain seventeen families. They are, as 1 suppose you know, front and rear tenements. They are both horribly out of repair and absolutely unlit for human habitation. Take the case of the plumbing. There are no revents to any of the pipes, and only one waste i>tf?e hus a trap. That Is of no value because of the condition of the catch basins, which are below ground and have simply become so clogged with grease that they are cesspools that overflow the court and even run over into the basement, where two families are living. Back of No. 19 on the alley Is a stable In which a vegetable dealer keeps two horses and a cow. These are directly under a room which hus been added to the old brick bakery, that Is in a terrible state of decay and threatens to fall down. If It does, as it is liable to do at any time, it will certainly result in , the death or injury of the tenants. All the plumbing is in direct violation of a distinct city ordinance which names it an offense to put in piping without traps, revents and catch basins to accumulate material that clogs the sewer connections. The overcrowding is simply Indescribable. "In both these tenements that you own and control there is less than 200 square feet of floor area for families of from Ave to seven, living In three and two rooms. There are six bed- ! rooms in No. 17 that are absolutely dark und that in spite of the ordinance ' which provides that every room of a ' tenement or lodging house must have i winaow space equui 10 at leuat unetentb of its floor area. These rooms not only do not have one-tenth window space, but they do not have any at all. They are simply dark rooms, the only 1 light and air that ever enter them be- ( ing what can get in through the door, which in many cases opens on a middle \ room, which in turn has no light or air except what can enter through a shaft between the front and rear tene- 1 ments only six feet wide and into 1 which the tenants throw their garbage ( because the boxes in front are broken 1 and overflowing. Father, these human beings are rotting in these Inhuman surroundings, and no' language effn 1 convey the awful horror of child life, * the cruel torture of mother life com- 1 pelled to give birth to children, to 1 nurse sick babies, to prepare meats, to ? endeavor to obtain sleep or rest, In ( the heart of overpowering odors, all In 1 less space and with less light and air than a human being would grant to a ? suffering dumb animal. Father, the ( property owners of tenement buildings s In this city are paying less attention to J immortal creutures made in God's im- 1 age than they pay to sick cats or im- 1 ported toy dogs or blooded race horses, t And, oh, father, for the sake of all this tortured life, of these children born without playgrounds, of these c mothers who struggle to keep decent 1 and these girls who go down to ruin I under the stress of the inhuman crowd- o Ing, will you not do something? You a can do it The old buildings cau be : 1 destroyed. They never can be repaired, f They are simply alive with vermin t and disease. But new buildings, cov- I: ering the legal space on the lot, could v be put up and be made to pay better t than the old ones. You could save the c lives of children for the future. You b could"? s "Are you lecturing at metr kuius 1 Gordon suddenly interrupted, his fat e flabby face white with passion. "I s know my own business, and I will at- 0 tend to it!" John Gordon took a step nearer and 8 ;azed with painful intentness Into his n father's face. c "Then do you mean to say, father. p that you will not raise a finger to right r these great wrongs? Will you not"? t u TO BE CONTINUED. y Pointed Paragraph*. Dealers who sell Bibles say there are jreat prupiifia in uicm. It's a wise clerk who laughs at the iroprietor's fool jokes. The head of the weather bureau is p tometimes a weather-beaten man. v A bad temper is an awkward thing E :o have and a dangerous thing to lose, h Though a man's will may be strong E n law, a woman's won't is law unto si tself. U There is almost as much realism in b Iction as there is imagination in his- tl ory. g It is much easier to see the way we p should go than it is to go the way we S] iee. si If a baby could say what it thinks q vhen people kiss it one kiss would be C( lufficient. c, Buzz saws are usually temperate, but ^ )ccasionally they take two or three ? ingers. a Many a man who objects to carrying ]j i bundle home from a dry goods store jg roes home from his club loaded. p, Probably the worst feature about the %v visdom that age brings us is the short p ime we have left to use it. t{ After eating onions a girl should sit t( inwn and read a ghost story that is alculated to take her breath away. ?r The endurance of the amateur cor- S( iet artist would bring him fame and h ortune if directed In some other chan- tj tel. h If you are anxious to have a lot of le leople mourn your death all you have o do is to Join an assessment insurince association.?Chicago News. gi iiT'A gentleman of leisure excels In hi loing nothing gracefully. ni pteffHattw fading. THE CASE OF VENEZUELA. Development* That Led to the Prevent EmbarraMlnK Situation. The Immediate cause of Venezuela's dilemma has its origin in concessions and guarantees made by previous administrations, and in the cases of both Germany and England, the controversies arise from railroad grants and guarantees in that country. The railway which is the cause of Germany's demands is known as the Grand Ferrocarril de Venezuela, runnine from Caracas to Valencia, a distance of 110 miles. The concession was obtained In 1887 by Herr Krupp, of Essen, Germany, and 4he road was built under a guarantee from Venezuela that the bonds would realize 7 per cent. The company formed became known as the Grosse Venezuela Elsenbahrt Gesselschaft, and the road was ' completed February, 1894, some time before the term fixed by the government for completion. * , In many respects It Is one of the most remarkable railroads on the continent. In the short journey It makes through mountains, It was necessary to construct 212 viaducts and bridges ; and eighty-six tunnels. Its declivities ? radius of curves and general superior i construction has jutsly exited the admiration of the engineering profession. The road is supplied with eighteen locomotives, thirty-five passenger coach- j es, eight baggage cars and 155 freight and cattle cars. The equipment Is prac- ( tically perfect. < The road traverses a most romantic i section, making a tortuous Journey 1 through interminable mountain ranges, j over deep gorges and perilous ravines. | At certain places the line approaches ] near yawning abysses upon one side, j while on the other great jutting bowl- ( ders swing out menacingly above. On < both sides of the road for fifty miles ( after leaving Caracas is one continu- < ous garden of coffe estates, shielded by large shade trees. Now and then this view is varied by vast fields of waving cane. On the line of this road is the historic city of San Mateo, celebrated in the innals of the country for heroic deeds Df early pioneers who sacrificed life to ignite a powder magazine to prevent it tailing into the hands of the Spaniards, rhe city is also noted for a miracleworking image of the Virgin, which is said to perform many marvelous :hings. San Mateo was also the home )f the great liberator, Simon Boliver, ind here occurred the death of his roung wife. The Lakes of Valencia, around which &e.road curves for many miles, is like :he Caspian sea, having no visible outet. The shore line near the railroad is ileak and desert-like, having once been S )art of the basin. The city of Valen:ia, originally built on the lake shore, s now five miles distant at low water, c On this line is also located Antlmine, r in Interesting resort valley of the d 3uare, where wealthy families of Caricas have built many large and ele- d rant homes, and where they spend the i; lottest months of the summer. SUr- r ounding the place and extending down e he valley are 117 coffee estates and I light large sugar plantations. p The contention of England Is not so a lear: but concerns the railroad, the f lttle narrow gauge line, running from h 'ort La Guayra to Caracas, a distance s if twenty-one miles. The two places re only seven miles apart In a straight t (ne. This road is also an interesting i ilece of engineering, crawling among u he clouds above La Guayra, 4,000 feet f n the first ten miles of its course to- o rard Caracas. It was on account, of g his road that the famous president, a Juzman Blanco, caused dirt roads and h ridges over the mountain to be de- d troyed that traffic might be deflected e o the railway. It would seem, how- 0 ver, that his successor, Castro, is not e: o deeply concerned over the earnings 41 f English bondholders. ti In 1897, Bruznal-Serra, minister of a tate, effected a compromise with Ger- n lan creditors, refunded the debt and b reated a sinking fund for semi-annual t< ayments. This was repudiated or dlsegarded by succeeding administra- a Ions, and during revolutions the treas- f< ry has been looted and public claims tl ueriy rorgoiien. . c ? b POLICE DOGS OF GHENT. tl h low They Are Trained to the Dntiex of Town Constable. ^ Most people know how prominent a a art Is played by the dog In Belgium, v here he acts as the poor man's horse, y, tut the Belgian dog has not stopped h ere. He is an ambitious creature. a [e is not content to do naught but 31 lave. He has, in fact, aspired to the h iw with such good effect that he has ^ ecome one of its limbs, and now plays w he part of policeman, and with such w ood results, too, that crime in that jj articular district patrolled by him is b lid to have diminished by two-thirds ti Ince his entry into the force. It is at nr (hent that the dog has become a re- p agnized member of the regulur town a) anstabulary. The dogs are taught by h leans of dummy figures made up as ai mch as possible to represent thieves n< nd dangerous characters they may be ai kely to meet. How much patience 1 needed by him who undertakes this ? articular form of education only those g] 'ho have tried to train animals will in roperly appreciate. The dog must be <jj lught to seek, to attack, to seize, and e ) hold, but without hurting- seriously! jt The first step is to place the dummy ei 1 such a position that it shall repre- je int a man endeavoring to conceal in imself. The dog soon understands 01 lat it is an enemy whom he must ol unt, and enters into this part of his rc sson "con amore," but it is not so tt isy to teach him not to injure it. qi The teacher lowers the figure to the ej round and the dog learns that, though a e may not worry his prey, he must tt ot allow his fallen foe to stir so much ai as a finger until the order Is given. After the dummy a living model is usffd, and as this proceso is obviously not entirely without danger, the person chosen for this purpose is usually he who ministers to the pupil's creature comforts, and for whom the canine detective is sure to entertain a grateful affection. Nevertheless, he is prevented at first by means of a muzzle from an exhibition of too much zeal. Afterward the experiment is tried on other members of the force, and in four months the dog's education as a policeman is considered complete, and he takes his place with the rest. The animals are also taught to swim, and to seize their prey in the water; to save life from drowning; to scale walls, and to overcome all obstacles; so that anyenterprising burglar who goes "a-burgllng" in Ghent has a lively time of it if he meets with one of these fourfooted "bobbies." There are at present In this old town sixteen of these accomplished animals. They all belong to the sheepdog breed, but besides Belgian there are also Russian and de la Brie dogs. During the day they take their well-earned rest in comfortable loose boxes attached to the head stations of the police. But at 10 o'clock their duties begin, and scarcely has the hour chimed from the old belfry above their heads when they set up a deafening chorus of barks as if so show their eagerness to get to work. They are on duty till 6 the next morning, and do not seem at all fatigued by their long hours. , ; Those who know how thoroughly a dog enters into sport of all kinds will (juite appreciate the intense enjoyment the animal feels in his new profession. Ihey wear a uniform consisting of a leather collar strongly bound with steel and armed with sharp points to repel those attacks which might be expected from the enemies of law and order. From this collar hangs a medal which bears the dog's name and address, with the date of his birth. Just is the policeman has his mackintosh :ape for bad weather so has his little tour-footed helper, a neat, serviceable waterproof coat being ready for him >n stormy nights. The various cnains, :oats and collars all hang neatly on pegs beneath the names of the wearirs, in their dressing room, where a cind madam is their admiring waiting ' naid. They are well looked after In ivery way, and their private medical nan, the town "vet," calls frequently ;o inquire after their health. Each dog iccompanies a policeman on his nighty rounds and walks the regular beat with him. The dog is not only very 'ond of his own particular human com ade, but evinces a wonderful profeslional esprit de corps.?Science Siftlngs. ' * i ALASKA'S WEALTHIEST'1 WIDOW. Hie umiB r uur nuuurru ncmucci And Is Qaeen of the Tnndra. Mary MakridofF, the reindeer queen >f Alaska, is queening it all by herself iow, for Sinrock Charlie Augensook is lead. Sinrock Charlie was her husband. He lied, leaving her in entire charge of his mmense estate, which means many niles of white tundra and the greatst herd of reindeer ever owned by an Gskimo. Mary represents to her peoile not only the highest degree of rank nd honor, but of wealth, culture and ashlon as well. Her power over them 3 one with their time-honored supertition. Her home lies in the midst of the vast undra, where her reindeer pasture, 'here in the cold land stretch miles pon miles of her moss-covered ground, or the summer moss takes the place f the winter snow and whitens the round, springing up in a few hours fter it is nibbled away. On approaches you see only white ground. The eer are far off, where the moss is thlckr. Then of a sudden, as the sound r the scent of your party reaches their ars or their noses, the great herd of X) comes like a whirlwind over the andra. The word has been passed mong them that there is an excitelent, an arrival. They come to see as oys rush to a Are. They come to 1 lain. They come to smell. Then, like a trained chorus entering well-rehearsed number, they make jr the nearest knoll and draw up here. They draw up in a great semiIrcle. They stand with their antlers ranching upward like a forest, and here they trumpet loudly for a good alf hour. Mary's home is a good-sized clapoard house that accommodates her nd her adopted children and her serants. The servants attend to the ork of the house and help Mary in er immense business of raising rein eer. xne cnnaren are cuuimcao. * j warm. They have been picked up ere, thee, everywhere, whenever lary has happened upon a waif who as cold or in a hurry for his dinner hlch was not forthcoming. They are ttle and brown and greasy, and are undled in minature halos around leir dirty little faces. Augook is the lost sinful of them, and the most romising. His hug is a very warm tid furry and dirty one, but you will ke it. He will reach out his little rms to you, out of the far, frozen-up orth, where even little boys' hearts re frozen most of the year. The house contains a wonderful ?om with a dresser and a looking lass. There Is no such thing as this i any other Eskimo house. It is on isplay in the parlor, and the proudest skimo is always overwhelmed with s magnificence. A sight of that dress alone would quell an unruly sublet, if Mary_ever had one. The sleepig rooms are in a loft above. Thither' ie must climb' every night by means ' a shaky ladder. Odds and ends of >om8 are used for the servants and ie work. For Mary, although a aeen, works like all of her people, ccept that she carries on business on large scale. She lives by the profits lat her reinbeer bring her, and those *e large.?San Francisco Call.