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???????^??????I????? ISSUED SBMI-WKBHL^^ l. m, grist's sons, Pubinher.. j % <J[ami!g Uercspaper: $or (lie promotion of (he political, JSorial. %jrieulkpTand (Eommtittial JnUrjsts of the people. }"wp! nvS iLwVANCIf established 1855. york ville/s. c.rtuesd a y, .tijlsre 27 1908. ]sto. 44. an i n an m m "* m : ' ' H i t i By CLARENCE CHAPTER XXXI?Continued. The man there did not know h-r; he had never seen her face; but she knew rhim; she knew him only too well. She had played her last desperate moves in the mighty game of life with the understanding that he was oft the board permanently. And now, whether the sea had given up its dead or not, there he stood, the most powerful piece Prier could have played, perhaps, to give her check and force checkmate! The ^ man was Gilbert Senn. "Good morning, madam," said he, courteously, removing his hat; "Is Mr. Jahnway at home"? and may I " He paused. He was no longer looking at the woman. He was looking at something she wore. His face grew ashen His limbs trembled beneath him. "Good God!" Senn exclaimed; "are you Eurllne Bannottie?" "Yes, Mr. Senn, 1 am Miss Bannottie." "Is?is Mrs. Senn here?" "No, sir,"'she lied to him. But h? was looking her straight in the face. He felt he understood her. "I do not believe you," he said. "You are very complimentary, sir." ^ "And I am going in to look for her." "No, you are not. This is my house, for the time being, and I forbid your going." "But she is my wife, and I have a right to go." "You've not seen fit to assert your husbandly authority before," sneered Miss Bannottie. . "No. And I shall not assert it now over this poor girl who has suffered so at your hands." "And at yours, Mr. Senn; do not forget that." "I know it. But I am going in. ^ She is inside, and I am going in to see her." Miss Bannottie let her hand fall into I he pocket of her dress. "Mr. Senn I lied to you. She is inside. But you are not going in." "I am. Stand aside." "I will not. Attempt to pass me, and I'll serve y.ou as " "As you did Constance Craig? Is that it?" "Yes, you " "No, I think you won't. I think that while Walter Aldrich and Elsie Senn . both live I am reasonably safe from you." His remark struck home. The wretched woman drew- her hand from her pocket, empty. She leaned, pale and trembling, against tne siue 01 me doorway. He walked past her into the house to which she had denied him admission, and she never raised her hand to prevent it. She did not even l-aise her voice again in protest. He went in. She could hear him going from room to room, opening door after door which had only emptiness behind them. She heard him go up the stairs. She heard him try the door of Elsie Senn's room. And then She raised her head; she stood up straight again. "I wonder where the dead man lived. and who he was. and how long it will be before they miss him, and whether there is any good reason why they should seek for him here?" she said desperately to herself; "and I I wonder how long it will be before Senn comes out with his bride, ha! ha! ha! and whether I shall have time? time " She walked down the steps. She walked down the drive, until a turn shut her from view of the house. She turned and shook her clinched hand in that direction. "Curse you!" she said, bitterly: "I wish I could do here for you both what I did at Boomville for Samuel Lyman. But?I haven't time. And?I am not ?iuite sure I dare." Then she turned and ran. ran regardless of the thorns which reached out to hold her back, regardless of the stones which cut her thin shoes and hiuised her tender feet, ran?ran?ran ?regardless of everything but a desperate fear of pursuit, and a desperate hope for safety, ran as though there had been a madwoman at Jahnway Park, in very truth, and as though she had her freedom at last?and meant to keep it! And Senn put his shoulder against the locked door which stood between him and his wife, crushed it down by a sudden push, and stepped over the splintered wreck into her room. "Mis?ter?Senn!" she cried, starting to her feet, and facing him in tearful and pale-faced amazement. "Have no fears, madam, i am one to serve you." "You come as a friend, then?" "As a friend." he repeated, solemnly: I "as a friend, and as no more." "Thank Ood." she ejaculated: then added, kindly, "and thank you!" "I?I think there is not much time to | lose." he said: "will you answer me a J few questions?" "As many as you wish." "First, then, what sort of a woman is (airline Rannottie?" Elsie shuddered. "A fiend," she replied. "Have you known that long:?" "Not until since I have lived here." "She was once your friend?" "She was. I called her the best friend I had ever had in all my life." "Whose is that ornament she wears in her hair: the one with the cross set with pearls?" "It is hers." "Did you ever borrow it? Did you ever wear it?" "Yes: I have worn it just twice." "Can you tell me when? Do you remember well enough for that?" "Cod knows I have reason to remember." she said. "Then in Clod's name tell me, and tell me at once." he cried. "I will. Once, the first time, was the night I?you?the night I became Mrs. Senn." Thank Clod! And the other time?" "In the court room, where you were on trial " iHMiitiHiDiiiiiynminiiiiHMii ? BOUTELLE. mmmmmmmmmmmmJL "Mrs. Senn." said Gilbert, solemnly, "I have wronged you deeply. Let me explain it all, and then plead for your forgiveness." And he sat down beside her and told her all he knew of the strange story in which the murder of Constance Craig was the centre and the circumference. He told of his work, of his sickness, of his discharge; he told of his loneliness, his homesickness, of his attempt to reach home on foot; he related his experiences as a tramp, his refusal to sell his ring, his borrowing the money he had borrowed, his turning into the country. He narrated the loss of his ring, his unavailing search for it. his suspicion of the woman who passed him, his act of following her. He told of what he had seen at the house of Constance Craig, of the ter..iKio ti-jiro.lv wrmip-ht there bv the one who wore his ring on her finger and the strange cross of pearls in her hair. He led her. in imagination, with him, as he left the house of the fearful memory in the distance, as he faced death himself, as Aldrich saved him from it at the peril of his own life, as he found honorable employment by Aldrieh's aid, as he grew older and wiser in the service of the man he always loved, and to whom he was always faithful. He pictured the robbery of the bank, his suspicion of her, his resolve to save Aldrich. He told of the memories awakened by one article of her bridal toilet, of his broader and more horrible suspicion of her which was given life and energy when he was arrested for the murder of Constance Craig, of his resolve to shield her from the consequences of the crime because she bore his name. He told her of the trap Miss Bannottie had set for her in robbing the bank, intending, doubtless, to make her father a beggar, hoping to Induce Aldrich to discard her; and leaving the rings to connect her with the murder of Constance Craig. He talked long, earnestly, eloquently. He told more than I have recapitulated here. He tried, faithfully, to tell all there was to tell. She. in turn, told much. "We often dressed alike, Lurlineand I." she said, "which accounts for the dress I wore into the bank being like the one she had herself worn in. I only wonder how she learned the combination. Perhaps I talked In my sleep." She told of her experiences as Miss r>~ ?wIoa**a?i CKa trio,! tf\ Ocl fill' ?l I It* ^ jlllOUlin. k^lic tlivu vvr make all plain and clear to her newfound friend. "And now," he questioned her, "can you find it in your heart to pardon me?" She put her hand in his. "Fully," she said: "since you did it for love of Walter, and prompted by your truth and loyalty." "And you will secure a divorce, will you not. so that you may marry him?" She shook her head. "I think not." she replied; or, rather. I am certain of it. Should we outlive you. Walter and I. I should certainly become his wife, for I love him with all my heart and soul and strength. But I took my bonds upon me of my own accord, and I shall never cast them off. Nay," as she saw a shadow upon his face, "I do not desire your death: sufch a thought, though sometimes suggested to me by Lurline Bannottie, never found a lodgment in my brain, even when I thought you the most wicked of men and myself the most unfortunate of women. I sincerely wish you long life and happiness. Mr. Senn, as I am sure you know that Walter will, also, when he knows all. It is not the life of my hopes, the life of my girlish dreams. But life is worth any woman's living when it gives her the love of a man like Walter Aldrich and the friendship of such a man as you have shown yourself to be." They left the room. They descended the stairs. They looked for Miss Bannottie. You know they looked in vain. Then they went up-stairs again. 'Trier will hunt her down and settle with her," said Senn: "you need have no fear of that." "I am sorry. I pity Lurline Bannottie." "Do you? Sometimes I am afraid I do. But Prier don't. Prier will be merciless. Since she killed Constance Craig, he will follow her to the death. Once, he only despised and loathed her. But when she laid the shadow of her life across his path a second time?" "A second time? I do not understand you?" "Do you not? I half fancied I had told you that among all the rest. I have not known it many days myself, though. It is a sad story. Do you think you can bear to hear it?" "I think so." "I assure you, you don't know how wicked Lurline Bannottie is." No? Do you think you do, Mr. Oilbert Senn? If you do, leave your wife for a few moments, run down the lonely path to the wild glen, and come ' ' J T L 1 n L- noithor Villi DHCK anil repori. i mum nor any other man knows, or ever did know, or ever can. how grandly good a true woman can be?nor how low a bad woman may fall! "No," she replied: "but I would like to hear the story." "It's a short one, fortunately, and won't take long in the telling. Prier had a twin-brother. He loved him more than his own life. His brother met Lurline Bannottie somewhere, at a summer resort on the seashore, I believe. and fell in love with her. She led him on, until he was so infatuated that he felt he could not live without her. Then she laughed at his mad words of love, sent him away, and?" "Well?" "He killed himself. 'The law cannot touch her for that,' said Prier to me, 'and I am the servant of the law in its relations to Lurline Bannottie. But. morally, his blood is on her head. God will call It murder.'" "Perhaps?perhaps she did not mean to hurt him. It may be that she thought it possible that she should come to love him, until she found at the last that it was impossible." "No. Listen, Mrs. Senn. You had a man named Lyman In your employ. Don't turn away your face?I have almost forgotten that you turned me away to put him in charge of your business. Prier and myself have found out a great deal about him lately, though there are many other things we'd like to know of him that we don't ?some questions regarding him that we shall undoubtedly never find answers to. Whether a certain letter was written to him, for instance. Mr. Lyman lived here at Jahnway Park, bythe way, for a short time, in some peculiar capacity, and has been a frequent visitor here (not to the owner, but to some of the servants), even as late as since my arrest." "Yes; but are you not wandering from the subject?" "Not far. Please have patience. Let me tell the story In my own way. This gentleman was distantly related to Mr. Craig, too. the husband who was drowned, as you remember having heard, and had some business transactions with him. We have reason to believe that Miss Bannottie went to Mrs. Craig's house, the night she murdered that lady, to obtain possession of some document, some business paper, we don't know what." "Well? What connection had Lyman with Miss Bannottie's refusal of Prier's twin-brother?" "This: At the time Mr. Prier's brother met her for the first time, during all the weeks of his acquaintance with her, and for a long time after his tragic death, she was Samuel Lyman's wife!" "Married? Lurline Bannottie married?" "Certainly." "But I never heard her lament Mr. Lyman's death." "No. She had been separated from hi in, legally separated, for years. He obtained the divorce, I believe, and I think that there had been trouble between them even before the episode of Prier's brother. She was in Europe when Mr. Lyman died, and But I see I am tiring and horrifying you. You have no idea how wicked Lurline Bannottie has been." No? Do you think you have, Mr. Gilbert Senn? Until you learn how Samuel Lyman died, until you know that Lurline Bannottie was not in Europe when he was tried by the fire, you will not know more of her evil life than you do now. You know all you can know In this world; as for the next?be patient, Gilbert Senn, you may not have long to wait! "She played a desperate game in the letter she sent me," said Senn. "If I had declined Aldrich's aid I should undoubtedly have suffered death in her place." "Undoubtedly." "And a more desperate game In the anonymous letter to Prier. of which he told me and of which I have told you. She meant to cast such a suspicion upon Aldrich as would part you and him for ever, no matter what else happened." "I have no doubt of that," said Elsie, and she grew white and trembled. "And very likely thought she could get him in such a situation that she could exact the price she desired, in payment for the silence of her lying lips. The price of his hand and his name, at least, though his heart was elsewhere." "I believe it." "Frier's life has been shadowed by all this. Strong, able, acute, there is still one weak spot in his mental make up?one place where I fancy the eyes of a man who loves him, as I sincerely do, can detect the scar of the blow which has fallen, again and again, upon his mind and soul." "I do not understand you: please explain." "* " 1 * T*.. t ... - 1 inn Itr. KAAn O I Will. ri lfl nun illnu.t.i urrii u uvtective, since he has done any work in the world at all. I learned that at the Boston office of the agency by which he Is employed. But?his recent life, for a half-score of years or so. has been clouded by this tragedy of the half-sister he so tenderly loved. Would it be strange if he sometimes tanc-ied that in the happy days of the long-ago his employment was other than it Is now? He often claims to have studied this, or to have done that, before he became a detective. As quaint as he is good, as eccentric as he is noble, as full of a fine sense of hu-( mor as he is of the wisdom of his profession. I still sometimes think " "Yes. You think what?" "That a man with a giant intellect may yet he partially mentally crippled; that he not only tells the stories he does, but actually believes them!" Senn arose. Elsie followed his example. She gathered her few articles of clothing and jewelry, he giving what assistance he could. They packed them into two small valises. Then they descended the stairs, for a second time, walked out from the grand and gloomy old house, under the glory of the light of sunset, and walked away together?away from Jahnway Park, for ever! And in the early evening, with the moonlight falling cold and white about him and the men who came with him, Walter Aldrich came. Came to find the house empty, the rooms desolate, and the moonbeams lying colder and whiter than elsewhere on the stony face of the man who had been his messenger?the man who had dared the wrath of Lurline Bannottie?the man who had weighed her courage and her cruelty against his manly stlength, and had found himself wanting Walter Aldrich went away again. hurriedly and disheartened?went away and left all as he had found it. Left the dinner untasted. for the rats to feast upon, for the spiders to spin their webs across, for the foul touch of all manner of crawling' things, for dust and decay and oblivion! Left the horses harnessed in their stalls, to die of starvation, to decay slowly, and to be found as harnessed skeletons, white and clean and smooth, in some one of the possible days of the distant years which are coming. Left the priceless paintings for the mold: left the fine carpets and costly furniture for the moth; left tl)e metal ornaments for the corroding rust, the walls for slow disintegration, all?all?for the unforbidden Angers of those awful powers of Nature which for ever pull down, and build not up again. v Farewell, Jasper Jahnway! The doors of your house stand wide open; they have burled a dead man where the shadow of your home will fall upon his grave at noonday. Farewell! The doors of your house stand wide open. What care you? You will never cross Its threshold again. The windows will fall away from their places; the birds of the night will Autter in and make their nests there; the wild beasts will not disdain your drawingrooms for a dwelling-place; the serpents will crawl where you once lay down to sleep. What care you? Your dream Is almost true, Jasper Jahnway?the one you dreamt by the fireside, sleeping on your Aoor, the roar of the storm outside seeming a Atting Anale to your day?an appro priate requiem for the dead, whose partial history had just come to your hands. Your dream is almost true. But not quite. You are a wanderer, Jahnway Park is no longer your home and never will he again. But it was not the "man outside" who pronounced the fiat which made it as it is. What has been done you have done yourself. Farewell, Jasper Jahnway. And yet I hate to let yott go! I would like to open the records of your earlier life, your strange and eventful life, your story of trial and suffering? and the passion you then thought was love. But over it all, reluctantly, regretfully, I set the stone of silence, strike it sharply into its place, and turn away for ever. I would like to stand by you when you read, as you will some day, of the fate of Lurline Bannottie, and see whether your eyes moisten or your hands tremble. I would like to be by you?but may the years to then be many?when you learn in your own person that life is a vapor and all men are mortal. I? But it may not be? Farewell! Those who read this history. in which so many have lived and loved and acted?and from which some, alas! have gone, while more are going?will not call you the hero. And I cannot say they should. But, "to him who overcometh" I cannot deny the emotion I feel. Farewell, Jasper Jahnway. I love yon best of all! To be Continued. ON THE ROAD 'TO MANDALAY. Once Forbidden Burma Now a Resort of Tourists?Thebaw's Palace. Burma, once forbidden, has become attractive to tourists. Steamships from Liverpool run direct to Rangoon, the great city of the country, and a book has been published for the use of travellers for pleasure. There is much to see that is novel in Burma and visitors have only to plan their journey for the cooler months between November and March to have a good time. Travellers are cautioned not to make personal remarks about the Burmans they may meet. The more intelligent natives probably understand English, and in any case they are very sensitive to ridicule. The women of the country are very charming at a distance, but do not bear close inspection. They are quite as naive as the Japanese and far more free in their ways, but they greatly resent familiarity. They are the merchants of the market places, and the traveller must have his wit about him or he will be overreached in trade. The government has found it necessary to warn all white comers agafnst the "intelligence and business capacity" of these women merchants. You may travel by rail or steamboat up the majestic Irawadi to Mandalay, the capital of Upper Burma, in the heart of the country. You may steam up that river to Bhamo, far above Mandalay, on the splendid steamers that ply from Rangoon to the head of navigation. Rangoon has become a great commercial city, as much European as Burmese, so that it does not offer the wtimflunu Qfo fnnn^l further in land, though Its pagodas are among the most magnificent in Asia. For massive grandeur the Shwe Dagon Pagoda, with its huge dome overlaid with gold leaf, has few equals in the world, and the Burmese take special pride in it. For 350 miles up the river from Rangoon the country may be said to be one vast rice field. Burma is the largest producer of rice, and for several months during the shipping season tourists see at every railroad and steamboat station long lines of rice bags piled up eight feet high awaiting transport to the rice mills and the docks of Rangoon. The greatest objects of interest at Mandalay are King Thebaw's palaces, where lived that weak ruler and his handsome queen, who controlled him and incited the bloody deeds that made him infamous. The palaces stand in a walled enclosure four miles square, pierced with guard gates and surrounded by a moat. Thebaw and his queen now live in Indta, prisoners of the British government. Today there is not an article of the furniture in any of the palaces. A part of the queen's palace was used for a while as a club for Europeans, but Lord Curzon ordered it to be given up, as all the buildings are of teak and a fire might easily destroy everything. Nearly every building has its curious history. One of the structures is a watch tower of solid wood started and completed in one day by Thebaw's father, who told the builder that unless he completed the structure in twenty-four hours he would be beheaded. All visitors have a talk with Capt. Reoman, who was imprisoned with otner Europeans Dy rncoaw. r?u u week he and the other whites were led out every day to be beheaded, but for some reason were remanded to prison. They were all released when the British forces came up, but the strain was too great for one of the unfortunates, who went mad in that week. It was Thebaw who, incited by his wife put to death under circumstances of great brutality between seventy and eighty princes, princesses and high officials in February, 1879. The outburst of horror and indignation which these massacres caused led soon after to the overthrow of Thebaw and the occupation of his country by the British. JUisfcUanrciua grading. GET RID OF MAD DOGS. Muzzling of All Doga Would Stamp Out Rabies. Washington, May 29.?"Rabies, or hydrophobia, is known to be one of the most terrible diseases that afflicts humanity. Wherever it is prevalent it causes constantly increasing anxiety, suffering and death to man and beast, not to mention the financial loss, and these penalties are exacted notwithstanding the alleviation offered by the Pasteur treatment." This is the statement made by Geo. H. Hart, V. M. D., assistant In pathology and bacteriology In the department of agriculture. The question has recently been brought directly to his attention through the case of Dr. Marsh, of Brooklyn, who contracted hydrophobia, suffered agonies while the deadly convulsions were on him and finally after undergoing untold tortures, succumbed to the disease. "The enormous value of the Pasteur treatment." continues Mr. Hart, "as a preventive agent is unquestioned. and, while its effectiveness is extremely high when taken in time the actual figures from a number of Pasteur Institutes In different parts of the world show that the failures have ranged from 0.18 to 1.58 per cent. It must be remembered also that for a number of" reasons a large proportion of the persons and almost all of the animals that have received the virus through the bites do not undergo the treatment. All that is required to rid us of this scourge is the muzzling of all dogs for a fewyears. This has been amply proved by the experience of several European j countries, where the disease has been jstamped out in this manner." Until recently it was considered that the dog's saliva became virulent three days before the appearance of the symptoms of rabies. According to some recent experiments it has been found that the saliva may become virulent six or seven or eight days before the symptoms develop. Therefore in case the animal remains healthy for ten days after it has bitten the person or animal, no danger need be apprehended from that bite, even though the dog develop rabies within the next few weeks. The curative value of the madstone is still devoutly believed in by a great many people. Within the last fewyears a madstone was forwarded to the department of agriculture, the owner stating that it had prevented several cases of rabies, and he was anxious for it to be tried by the department. Some of these madstones, properly caiiea nair Dans, are uummed from the stomachs of various wild animals and domestic animals. They are in some cases composed of matted hair, which the animal has licked from its body and swallowed, but in the majority of cases they consist of misses of vegetable fibre, such as the awns of clover and beard of grain, which have gradually collected over a considerable period of time and are formed into a spherical shape by the contraction of the gastric walls. Gall stones, intestinal calculi and in fact many porous stones may be used as madstones. After a person has been bitten the madstone is applied to the wound, and it is believed that the longer it adheres the more certain it is of preventing the disease. Whether it will stick or not depends entirely on the amount of hemorrhage or discharge from the wound. Where this is profuse the blood infiltrates the meshes of the madstone, soon coagulates or dries, and tends to hold it in place, and it adheres for a considerable time under such circumstances. On the othi'r hand, where the wound Is small and the discharge slight, there is nothing to hold the stone In place and it mmediately falls off. Certain of these madstones have been held in families for three or four generations and are guarded as carefully as a precious neirloom. Its specific value against rabies Is no greater than that of a piece of blotting paper applied in the same manner. The difference between human be-. Ings and dogs suffering from hydrophobia is that the former cannot bear the sieht of water, while dogs will often attempt to drink until the throat has become entirely paralyzed. Mr. Hart and other experts on hydrophobia state that many persons are often mistaken in regard to the color of a dog's mouth, sometimes believing that because the animal's mouth is black it is sure to be Infected. This is erroneous, for the reason that in some sections of the country there is a dog disease known as "black tongue." There are half a dozen symptoms by any one of which the ordinary person may generally be able to tell when a dog is suffering from rabies and these are: 1. Change in disposition; 2. alteration of voice; 3, inability to swallow; 4, leaving home and returning home in an exhausted and emaciated condition; 5, paralysis of the jaw: 6. swallowing abnormal substances, such as small stones, sticks, etc. To protect persons from terrors of hydrophobia Mr. Hart says there Is only one certain way, and that is to muzzle the dogs before the damage Is done and keep them muzzled. Inland Waterwaya. The Missouri river has been rediscovered to navigation says Walter Williams in The World Today. Time was when it carried the freight to western communities from St. Louis to Fort Benton, 2,600 miles to the northwest, and beyond. It carried this freight and many passengers as well in steamboats of large capacity that netted their owners fortunes with every successful round trip. Occasionally the pilot, though his wage was $1,500 in gold coin each month, was not able to dodge the Inevitable "snag," and the boat sank and the fortune was lost. These were exceptions, and there are many wealthy families in St. Louis which trace the foundations of their fortunes to the Missouri river "trade. Then the railroad came, and the steamboat went to join the stage coach among the abandonment of yesterday. The Missouri river was forgotten. Now, after more than three decades of oblivion, it has been rediscovered. The discovery was on this wise. A group of Kansas City merchants buying merchandise from the east, figured with care their freight bills. They found that over 41 per cent of the freight charge was for the short haul from St. Louis to Kansas City, while less than 59 per cent was for the long haul from the Atlantic coast to St. i Louis. They appealed to the railroads, but could get no readjustment that afforded reduction. They appealed to the interstate commerce commission, but found no relief. It was a company of grave, shrewd merchants and manufacturers that sat one evening In the council rooms of a Kansas City club talking over the freight rate situation. A map was on the table before them, a railroad map with wide black lines, straight as the arrow's flight, to represent the railroads, and narrow, crooked, hesitating lines to show, as after-thought. the river ways. A captain of the" dry goods industry said: "Why not try the Missouri river?" And the rediscovery began. RULER OF THE AFGHANS. Man Whp Tries to Do Many Things Be* * sides Governing His people. A short, stout man, who wears a gray frocl^ coat when visiting, likes afternoon^ tea, plays a remarkably good game of bridge, does not hesitate to sit'down at the piano and sing a song for the entertainment of a party, and after dinner has been known to speed the parting friend with a long and animated conversation on the doorstep?this is one side of the character of Habib-Ullah Khan, Amir of Kabul, Seeker after God's Health and Lamp of the Congregation and the Faiths." He did all these things when visiting India in the early part of last year, says the London Daily Mail. Ife seems to have created the Impression in some minds that he was the Asiatic counterpart of the German emperor. He toid various people whom he met that he was the best smith in Afghanistan, the best carpenter, the best drill sergeant. Then he claimed to be able to preach a better sermon than any Mullah, and as a matter of fact led 700,000 people in prayer at Delhi?surely the largest prayer meeting on record. He speaks seven or aio-iit hmminMS' he nlavs cricket: he has acquired a liking for the motor car and he seems to think very highly of his own powers as a doctor. Then, too, he apparently knows how to enjoy himself at a race meeting, and when he makes a bet, he pays on th,e spot If he loses. When he was in India an attendant stalked solemnly behind him, carrying a vast cashbox full of money, from which disbursements were made, when necessary. He is said to be a good sportsman, but when he plays cricket with his attendants the Amir apparently wins. It might perhaps be risky for opponents to make a better showing. A slight inpediment in his speech Is associated by tradition with an ancient palace intrigue to poison him when heir apparent. His left hand has but four fingers, due to a gun accident some four years ago. He might have been a one-armed man had It not been for the skill of a British doctor who went from India and cured an injury which seemed likely to develop into mortification of the arm. When In Tndiu his outspokenness and cheerfulness seem to have made him a general favorite. As the sun set he would stop his train at a wayside station "and invite any humble loiterer of the Faith to say his prayers with the king of Afghanistan." He wanted to know everybody's views and wanted to inspect everything that seemed likely to be useful in his homeland. He stopped an army sergeant's wife to discuss with her her preferences and ideals, and he made the chemical lecturer at a hospital which he visited explain the properties of carbon dioxide In relation to combustion. But on the other hand he would not waste any time in inspecting a little gathering of warships that had been arranged for his special benefit?the British navy cannot go through Khyber Pass. Perhaps this explains the fact that he preferred to hurry off to the races rather than witness "battle practice." Two things seemed rather to casta shadow over him. "I hope you don't mind the bagpipes!" a neighbor asked him at one of the innumerable banquets. "Not at all," he answered; "I have them at Kabul. "But"?with a sad smile?"they don't stand so close behind my chair." Then too the joys of railway travel did not appeal to him. In anticipation of his vlcit to a famous shrine a monorail was built to carry him to the sanctuary in a bejewelled royal car. He looked at the monorail, he looked at the car. and then ordered a landau. The amir is the son of one who was a slave girl before she became one of the queens of Afghanistan. His harem in Kabul is not so large as that maintained by his father. Angus Hamilton says that when the amir came to the throne three wives were divorced in order to keep the spirit of the Koran law, which forbids the maintenance of more than four wives. Many slaves of prepossessing charms, we are told, are taken into the harem from time to time and added to the number of his concuI J J tl , . I !, nriPH r to ex Uincs. out 11IC 4UWII? ?r r- ~ ? ercise a strict censorship in regard to the type of slave. The hapless woman who becomes a favorite and excites the admiration o fthe amir "is generally removed." One queen, it is recorded, "has killed with her own hands three of her slaves and personally chastises her erring handmaidens, purposely disfiguring any whose physical attractiveness might charm the amir." The four wives of the amir "occupy positions which are graduated to a recognized scale. The first wife draws an allowance of one lakh of rupes annually; the second wife receives eighty thousand rupees, the third wife forty thousand rupees, the fourth wife twenty thousand rupees a year." One rather gathers that the domestic life of the amir is not untroubled and that the influence of his wives is not cast on the side of peace and quietness. CODE OF ETHICS FOR LAWYERS. Guide For Their Professional Conduct Prepared. New York, May 28.?A draft for the proposed canons of professional ethics has been prepared by a committee of the American Bar association, and Is being submitted to members of the association for suggestions and criticisms. The final report which it is proposed to base upon the suggestions and criticisms received will be submitted to the association as a whole at the annual meeting to be held next August In Seattle, Washington. In twenty-seven states of the Union there are codes of ethics more or less complete, which exist as a result nt i>rtriiH<'atinii hv statutory enactments of some of the "duties" of lawyers or of the action of bar association therein adopting' canons of professional ethics. For some years past members of the bar associations have advocated a movement which should culminate In an authoritatively declared standard of professional conduct, which will not only serve as a guide to the youthful practitioner, but will place the profession before the public In its true light, and thereby free It from public criticism and (ensure, which have at times been bestowed upon It as a' result of the misconduct of unworthy men who have found their way Into Its ranks. At the 1905 meeting of the association the chairman of the executive committee presented a resolution, which was adopted unanimously, providing for a special committee to report upon the advisability and practicability of the adoption of a code of professional ethics by the association. At the 1906 meeting the committee reported favorably upon both points, and at the 1907 meeting the association directed the committee to prepare a draft for the proposed canons of professional ethics, requesting suggestions and criticisms of all members of the American bar. Committee's Report. In Its report the committee says: "The foundation of the draft for canons of ethics is the code adopted by the Alabama State Bar association in 1887. This draft represents our best present Judgment after a most careful consideration of the subject. "In America, where justice reigns only by and through the people under forms of law, It is essential that the system for establishing and dispensing justice not only be developed to a high point of practical efficiency, but so maintained that there shall be absolute confidence op the part of the public in the fairness, the integrity and the Impartiality of its administration; otherwise there can be no permanence to our republican Institutions. Our profession is necessarily the keystone in the arch of republican government, and the future of the republic, to a great extent, depends on our maintenance of the shrine of Justice pure and unsullied. It cannot be so maintained unless the conduct and the motives of the members of our profession, who are the high priests of justice, are what they ought to be. "No code or set of rules can be framed which will particularize all the duties of the lawyer In the varying phases of litigation or in all the relations of professional life. The following canons of ethics are adopted by the American Bar association as a general guide, yet the enumeration of particular duties should not be construed as a denial of the existence of others equally Imperative, though not specifically mentioned." The canons deal with the many problems confronting the lawyer In his professional conduct. Among the most Important recommendations are the following: Defending One Whom Advocate Believes to be Guilty. "A lawyer may undertake with propriety the defense of a person accused of a crime, although he knows or believes him guilty, and having under oiron it hp is hound bv all fair and honorable means to present such defenses as the law of the land permits, to the end that no person may be deprived of life or liberty but by due process of law. How Far a Lawyer May Go In Supporting a Client's Cause. "Nothing operates more certainly to create or to foster popular prejudice against lawyers as a class and to deprive the profession of that full measure of public esteem and confidence which belongs to the proper discharge of Its duties than does the false claim often set up by the unscrupulous in defense of questionable transactions, that It Is the duty of the lawyer to do whatever may enable him to succeed in winning his client's cause. A lawyer owes entire devotion to the interest of his client, warm zeal in the maintenance and defense of his cause and the exertion of the utmost skill and ability to the end that nothing may be taken or withheld from him, save by the rules of law, legally applied. Nevertheless, it is steadfastly to be borne In mind that the great trust Is to be performed within and not without the bounds of the law. The office of attorney does not permit, much less does it demand for any client, violation of law or any manner of fraud or chicanery. No lawyer is Justified in substituting another's conscience for his own. A lawyer should not do for a client what his sense of honor would forbid him to do for himself. "Treatment of Witnesses and Litigants." "A lawyer should always treat adverse witnesses and suitors with fairness and due consideration, and he should never minister to the malevolence or prejudices of a client in the trial or conduct of a cause. The client cannot be made the keeper of the lawyer's conscience in professional matters. He cannot demand as of right that his counsel shall abuse the opposite party or indulge in offensive personalities. Improper speech Is not excusable on the ground mat it ia wn?i the client would say if speaking in his own behalf. "Advertising, Direct or Indirect." "The most worthy and effective advertisement possible, even for a young lawyer, and especially with his brother lawyers, is the establishment of a well merited reputation for professional capacity and fidelity to trust. This cannot be forced, but must be the outcome of character and conduct. The publication or circulation of ordinary simple business cards, being a matter of personal taste or local custom, and sometimes of convenience, Is not per se Improper. But solicitation of business by circulars or advertisements or by personal cmnmunlcatlons or interviews, not warranted by personal relations, Is unprofessional. "Stirring Up Litigation, Directly or Through Agonts." "It is unprofessional for a lawyer to volunteer advice to bring a law suit, except In rare cases where ties of blood relationship or trust make it his duty to do so. Not only is stirring up strife and litigation unprofessional, but It Is disreputable In morals, contrary to public policy and Indictable at common law. No one should be permitted to remain in the profession who hunts up defects In titles or other causes of action and Informs thereof In order to be employed to bring suit, or who breeds litigation by seeking out those with rlnims fnr nersnnnl inluries or those having: any other grounds of action In order to secure them as clients, or employs agents or runners for like purposes or who pays or rewards directly or Indirectly those who bring or Influence the bringing of such cases to his officer or who remunerates policemen, court or prison officials, physicians. hospital attache* or others who may succeed under the guise of giving disinterested friendly advice In Influencing the criminal, the sick and the Injured, the igmorant or others to seek his professional services. "Responsibility For Litigation." "No lawyer Is obliged to act either as adviser or advocate for any person who may wish to become his client. He has the right to refuse retainers. Every lawyer must decide what business he will accept as counsellor, what cause he will bring Into court for plaintiffs, what cases he will contest In court for defendants. The responsibility for advising questionable transactions, for bringing questionable defenses, Is the lawyer's responsibility. He cannot escape It by urging as an excuse that he Is only following his client's Instructions. "The Lawyer's Duty In Its Last Analysis." No client, corporate or individual, however powerful, nor any cause civil or political, however important Is entitled to receive, nor should any lawyer render, any service or advice Involving disloyalty to the law whose ministers we are, or disrespect of the judicial office, which we are bound to uphold, or corruption of any person or persons exercising a public office or private trust or deception or betrayal At-- .VII* Ttrv*? Afiv OI Uie puuilf. TT IICU iniuci IU? UUJ improper service or advice the lawyer lays aside his robe of office and in his own person invites and merits stern and just condemnation. Correspondingly he advances the honor of his profession and the best Interests of his client when he renders service or gives advice tending to impress upon the client and his undertaking exact compliance with the strictest principles of moral law. He must also observe and advise his client to observe the statute law, though until a statute law shall have been construed and interpreted by competent idjudicatlon he is free and is entitled t' f vice as to its validity an ! as to what he conscientiously believes to be its Just meaning and extent. But above all a lawyer will find his highest honor in a deserved reputation for fidelity to private trust and to public duty as an honest man and as a patriotic and loyal citizen." Oath of Admission. Finishing its report the committee commends for adoption the following oath of admission to the bar as containing clearly the general principles which should ever control the lawyer in the practice of his profession: "I do solemnly swear: "I will support the constitution of the United States and the state of "I will maintain the respect due to courts of jrstice and Judicial officers. "I will counsel and maintain only such actions, proceedings and defenses as appear to me legally debatable and Just, except the defense of a person charged with a public offense. "I will employ for the purpose of maintaining the causes confided in me such means only as are consistent with truth and honor, and will never seek to mislead the Judge or Jury by any artifice or false statement of fact or law. "I will maintain the confidence and preserve inviolate the secrets of my client, and will accept no compensation in connection with his business except from him or with his knowledge and approval. "I will abstain from all offensive personality and advance no fact prejudicial to the nonor or reputation of a party or witness, unless required by the justice of the cause with which I am charged. "* 1,1 .ntnnt trn m onv cnn. 1 will never icjcvi, nviii ?? sideration personal to myself, the cause of the defenseless or oppressed, nor delay any man's cause for lucre or malice. So help me God." The report Is signed by Alton B. Parker, former chief Judge of the New York court of appeals; Justice Brewer, of the supreme court of the United States; Judge Thomas G. Jones of the United States court in Alabama; J. M. Dickinson, president of the American Bar association; George R. Peck and William Wirt Howe, former presidents of the association and Francis Lynde Stetson, president of the New York Bar association. The report is a result of a three days' session of the committee recently held in Washington. The Worst, All Right.?Back in the dark ages when the management of the Erie railroad was not all that it should have been?the rolling stock needing more oil and the common stock less water?a westbound passenger train Jolted into Corning one day two hours behind time and halted to patch up the engine and take on such passengers as were In no hurry and preferred waiting to walking. Just as the train was about to jerk itself into motion an excited individual came rushing along the platform, dragging a heavy carpet bag with one hand and waving a telegram with the other. "You must wait!" he shouted breathlessly. "I'm in an awful hurry! I want to get to Buffalo the worst way!" "All right." sang out the conductor of the starting train. "Hurry up and Jump aboard. You won't strike anything worse than this!"?Everybody's.