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sae? ?j-aaaa-g- i ' ?ga?b-gga-g issued semu-weekly . ~l it grists sons, puwisheri.} % ^antiij Uftosgagfr: <jfor th< promotion of th< foiitiipl, ?ociat, ;jgri<m!itit[al and flJommtpBl Interests oj thi |(ojI<. {Tg ??o^?wfv"? oe^VAKC' . rstari.ishro i turn. ' yorkville, s. c.,Yue8day, june 29,1909. ]sto. 52. The Men w ( By ETTA The following story was once told In New England for a literal fact. The author remembers to have heard it from the lips of a, centenarian who knew the hero In her youth, and who believed In the adventures which 1 am about to relate as utterly as in the truths of her Bible. To this less credulous generation, however, I have nothing to say, except that "I tell the tale as 'twas told to me." About the year 177?a young man named David Kendall, serving in the army of the Revolution as a paymaster's clerk, was traveling homeward to the town of Boston on a brief furlough. He had in his possession,' as he journeyed, a considerable sum of money, entrusted to him by the superior officer, and which he was to deliver to^he family of the latter, residing in some suburban town. The Journey from New York to Boston was, in those days, no small matter. Kendall made it on foot, with a pair of pistols in his girdle and his money slung upon his back In a knapsack. The month was October, wild and stormy. One Sabbath . night, just as the dark was closing in, threatening and thick, Kendall, plodding somewhere upon the boundaries of northern Connecticut, came to a lonely tavern, standing at the fork of two crossroads. Now, from other reasons than weariness or hunger, the traveler had been seeking this same tavern diligently, and, as the warm lights beamed on him from the curtalnless windows, he went In, and throwing off his knapsack on the hearth, sat down Reside it * ?* v'--- 1 -* i* va novo Ken juoru uic? iisi io <. /vi . ? _? dall!" cried mine host, an old Yankee, with a shrewd, well-favored face. "What ye got in that air knapsack, now?" "Well, a little money for the paymaster's wife?that's all." "Then, I take it, ye're from below?" "Yes," answered Kendall; "from the army." "Traveling to Boston?" "Yes." "Things look pretty rough in York state now?hey?" "Not so bad as they might," replied Kendall, sturdily. "How's Molly?" Attracted by the sound of voices, a charming brown head appeared now in ,th? doorway. The owner of this head, a girl of eighteen, fresh as a daisy, blushed to her brown eyes as she saw who it was that sat before her father's fire, and then turned lmmedlately toJly. . _ "Molly!" cried" Kendall?"Molly, come now! You might speak a word to a fellow, seeing as how he's come five good miles out or ma way to nave one look at you." She went shyly up to him, at that, and gave him her hand. "How d'ye do, Dave Kendall? I'm glad to see ye well, and I hope ye've mended your ways," said Molly. The old tavern keeper stood leaning on the mantel. Below a huge wood fire roared In a cavernous fireplace and flickered along the bare, smoky rafters of the room. On the mantel Itself lay a row of stumpy pipes and a pack of well thumbed cards. Up In the chimney the wind screamed and roared. "The army ain't jest the place to mend bad ways In, girl," said the old man. his eyes falling on the cards; "but that's neither here nor there. Dave wants his supper. A mug of flip and a rasher of bacon, Molly, and be lively." Kendall fell to the meal with avidity, that daisy-faced girl served him, conscious and silent and sweet. The steam of the smoking flip filled tne room with delightful odors. He caught her hand from the handle of the mug and held It fast. "Molly, dear, don't be hard on a poor fellow?don't now! I've come a good way for a word with you. Say you'll have me and be done with it!" Molly drew the little trembling hand sadly away. "I'll never have you," said she "till you've done with cards and drink, Dave. I know your ways, and you're just a wild roysterlng blade, and that's all." "Ah, don't, Molly, don't!" "I'm not so bad off for lovers yet," said the pretty child, half-sobbing, "that I must take up with such as you, for good." And with that she ran out of the room. Kendall finished his supper, sulky and sad. It was pitch dark outside, and the rain began to clatter loudly on 1 L ' * **-11.. In *Vv?. ine W1HUVW puut-a. rauiij ittmc in iui the remains of the meal, but would not look at him, so he went up to the hearth where the knapsack of money still lay warming, and taking the well worn cards from the mantel, turned then\ over and over In his hand. "Darned if I don't wish somebody was here to play a game with me!" he muttered, the ruling passion of his life seizing him in a moment with vehemence. "Decent folks," spoke the old Innkeeper, "don't play on Sunday nights, lad." "Well," answered Kendall, with a reckless laugh, "I ain't nowise particular about partners. I'd play with the devil himself tonight." A gust of wind tore down the chimney and whirled the gray ashes in a weird dance about the hearth. When hat nnusi.il a L-nnnb tow lone and measured, echoed on the door of the tavern. The old Innkeeper arose and opened It. He could see nothing for the blue, livid sheets of rain that dashed full 1" his face, blinding him. "Come in!" he cried, "whoever you be, come in!" With that two men stepped across the threshold and into the room where Kendall still stood by the flickering fire. He turned and looked at them. Two men, the exact counterpart of each other, with pale, handsome faces and long, powdered queues of black hair. They wore coats and knee breeches of glittering scarlet cloth. I ? in Scarlet> ? ii* niro/*r 'J! Rich ruffles of lace fell over their white hands. A Jewel gieamed in the buckles of their scarlet shoes. Each carried his cocked hat, of scarlet also, beneath his arm. "Good evening, stranger," they said, speaking together, as they approached the fire, and addressing Kendall. "Good evening," answered Kendall, gruffly, wondering from what division of Howe's army these two red coats had come. As they crossed the hearth, each, In turn, stumbled over the knapsack of money. Kendall put out a hand and drew it up to his own corner. * "Gentlemen," said the old Innkeeper, not a little flurried by the courtly appearance of his guests, "this is a rough night for traveling! Ye have horses outside, I dare say. I'll call up the groom"? "By no means!" answered one of the scarlet men; "we came on foot. Supper at once, sirrah, and the best that th? hnnoo nffnrd*!" He tossed, with the air of a prince, two golden sovereigns Into the hand of the innkeeper, who fled Instantly to the kitchen and turned it Into dire confusion. In the midst of the preparations, who should rush to him but Molly breathless and pale. "Father, who are these men?" . "Tut, girl! Red coats of rank, most likely. I didn't ask and they didn't tell." "Father, what can British officers be after here? Don't let them stay here tonight?don't, father! They are talking to Dave Kendall; go and call him . away?they mean him harm!" To meddle with men who could pay' v two sovereigns simply to hurry up a 8 supper was not In the innkeeper's line. Consequently Molly was Lade to hold 13 her tongue for a silly Jade, and not be e looking after Dave Kendall, but to take 8 the chicken from the pot and carry It in to the table. While obeying this last behest, Mol- 11 ly saw that tig men were now sitting r side by side, and talking like old friends. The Are light shone on the 1 scarlet dress of the strangers and In 8 their pale, elegant faces. What ease, * what grace, what polished wit were * there. Dave Kendall sat betwixt the 8 two, charmed and bewildered; and the a fair, dainty face behind him went out * of the room, paler than ever. Supper ready, the scarlet men drew E up a third chair to the board. They 0 made their courtly bow to Kendall. e 'ifrjff1Lrlrwv y?u>" they, F "by sharing with us this humble cheer, t Nay, no excuses; we will not hear them. It is a dull night; we ask for company! v With that Kendall moved up. The t meal that followed was wild and riot- '' ous. The scarlet men ate little, but * they drank to excess. Kendall drank v also. f Huge junk bottles of brandy shiver- e ed against the wall as soon as drained, 8 and gallons of seething flip disappear- 8 ed, as by magic, from the board. Then, ? of a sudden, the two scarlet men flung up their glasses to the ceiling, and af- 1 ter them their voices, deadly sweet and I strong, In a wild, wassail chorus that F shook the bare rafters, and drowned s even the noise of wind and rain out- * side. t While this weird, wild music was 8 working like leaven in Dave Kendall's ? brain, one of the scarlet pair leaped t from his seat, and seizing the pack of * cards from the mantel, dashed them c down on the board. 1 "Comrades!" he cried, "let us play!" The old Innkeeper laid a hand on t Dave Kendall's shoulder. He was pale and troubled. * "Dave," he said, "you're a misguided lad, but an honest one still. This is Sabbath night. Ye're drunk already. I Get up and get ye to bed before worse t things befall ye." Kendall shook off the reproving hand ' with an oath and the scarlet men laughed. < "Gentlemen," said the innkeeper, "this boy is only a poor soldier. He 1 has no money to stake. It ill becomes t such as ye to stoop to the like of him." 1 The twain laughed again and up- t roarously. c "Bring hither the knapsack from the corner of the hearth," quoth they; c "bring hither the money for the pay- < master's wife. Tut, tut, old man! this t lad must have his game!" t "If he dares to gamble here tonight, 1 with other folk's money," said the inn- i keeper, "I'll kick him out of my doors!" ' One of the scarlet men shuffled and ri^alf thp rvjrtls. Thev fiuner down on < the board a pile of gold pieces. Ken- 1 dall carried In a leather pouch at his 1 belt a few sovereigns and a handful of i English shillings?his own money. < He emptied these upon the table. They began to play. For the first ? few games Kendall won. The sight of < the golden stakes, added to the repeat- i ed draughts of raw brandy, completely i dissolved what little sense there was s left in the man's giddy brain. He played madly, recklessly, and began to 1 lose. 1 Again and again he lost, till the i stakes were all swept to the other side ( of the board?till not a cent remained 1 to him to pay for the supper he had 1 eaten, or the roof that was to cover I him. He looked at the faces of the men in scarlet. They were pale, smiling I and alert. He looked at the old inn- 1 keeper. He had fallen in a stupid doze by the chimney corner. "I must win back enough to pay for the night's lodging, at least," he said, and snatched the knapsack from the hearth. He thrust his hand within and threw down a handful of the money, uncounted, on the board. "Bravo!" screamed the scarlet men, in chorus. Kendall played again and lost. With a shriek of rage he Hung down a second handful of the paymaster's money and lost again. The third time the knapsack was half emptied of its contents still he lost. Wild and desner ate, he rose to his feet and hurled the knapsack itself, with all that remained 1 therein, upon the board. Towering and trembling there above the scarlet men, SENATOR PAGE OF VERMONT One of the sharpest tilts In the sem llterated when this Item In the tariff 1 Daniel of Virginia, a Democrat, led th; Wyoming fought for protection for thi free list twenty-two Republican senate) Senator Pnnle' favored free bides, he si trho smiled composedly from their eats, he played and?lost! With a cry of mortal anguish, Kenlall fell back in his choir. This arousd the old Innkeeper from his sluggish leep in the corner. "I am ruined!" shrieked Kendall. The money is gone?the paymaster's noney! Oh, I am ruined forever nore!" "Oh, it has come to that, then, has t?" cried the Innkeeper, bouncing up .nd trembling with rage. With that rmtpr dnnr. and true I o his promise, took Kendall by the houlders, and thrusting him deliber.tely forth, drew the bolt and bar beilnd him. Standing out there In the pitch-black light and storm, Kendall looked baak >nce at the lighted windows of the tavirn, at the shadows of the scarlet men asslng athwart the pane; then he urned on his heels "and fled. He ran as if for life itself, and as he h'ent a frightful conviction seized him hat he was pursued. The night was ntensely dark. The rain poured upon ilm In torrents?It filled the miry highway?it soaked the sodden autumn [elds. He stumbled and fell in treachrous gutters. He slipped in black and limy pools, and at every step, the wind ind rain howled in his ear that the noney was gone. Whither he went he knew not, save hat the country was open and unsup >ortably lonely. Behind him, lit every ?ause, he seemed to hear the echo of tealthy footsteps. Strive as he would, le could not outrun that. More dead han alive, at last, Kendall tore across i plowed field, and, leaping the stragfling wall beyond, found himself at he door of a low hut, through the one vooden shutter of which a single ray if light stole out and smote the darkless like a finger of fire. With a cry of Joy Kendall beat upon he door. "Let me in!" he cried; "let me In, vhoever ye be, for the love of heavin!" The door opened a little. A gaunt, 11-favored woman's face appeared In he aperture. "Who be ye?" she asked, gruffly, 'and what do ye mean?" Kendall pushed past her by main orce into the hut. "Good woman, I have lost my way," le answered, shivering with wet and :old, and the deadly falntness that folowed his (light. "I want shelter for he night and a cup of cold water to Irink?that Is all." The hut had but one small room, full f squalor and wretchedness. A group >f half-naked children were huddled ibout the fire of poor sticks, that imoked and spluttered on the damp learth. An Iron skillet, full of Indian jorrldge, sat seething In the ashes, rhe woman looked at Kendall darkly. "There's no place for ye here, sir; ye :an see that for yourself.- My husmnd's to thf? war?dead or alive. I enow not?and the meal In that skillet s the last thing I have for all these :hildren." "For God's sake, give me the shelter tf your roof!" cried Kendall. "I ask mly for that! You cannot?you shall tot turn me out Into this infernal light. Here I am, and here I shall day till morning!" The woman muttered something beneath her breath, and, without further words, set about distributing the supper of porridge to the clamorous chllIrtn. When this was done she brought forward a rusty tin pail to Kendall, kvho sat silent and exhausted by the fire, and said: "Since I'm forced to furnish ye with lodgings, sir, ye might go and bring a little fresh water for the children. The spring is under that pine tree at the corner of the hut?only a step, sir; ye'U hear it gurgling." Kendall took the pall In good faith and started to do the woman's bidding. He was stooping over the spring to (ill the pall when a long blue lightning (lash parted the heavens and danced for a full minute on the water below. Looking down he saw reflected therein his own face, and peering over either shoulder, two others, pale, handsome, smiling faces, surmounted by cocked hats and senrlet. Then all ?rew dark rijjaln. With a cry Kendall dropped the tin vessel and fled back to the hut. The door was barred and bolted. He thundered at the rusty planks, he shouted, he prayed, he Implored?all In vain. ? AND SENATOR DANIEL OP VIE PUT HIDES ON FREE LIST, ate tariff debate was over the duty on hi bill was taken up. Senator Page of V< 3 battle for free hides, while Senators e cattle raisers. The Montana senator d rs would vote for free boots and shoes, h aid, because he believed the whole trent The shutter, too, was fast, and the light behind it had gone out. With an imprecation hurled at the woman who had outwitted him, Kendall turned again and lied into the night Harder and heavier the rain poured down; thicker and wilder grew the darkness. And again, ever at his back, followed the sound of stealthy footsteps. He came to an old, dilapidated bam, standing alone in a rain-beaten Held. Wisps of hay and straw protruded throuerh the- rent claoboards. Reeling and giddy, Kendall groped for the door, unlatched it and went in. Then he listened. All was still. Tile footsteps had died away somewhere behind him. He looked around. The barn was well packed with hay from floor to rafter, and no one was there to dispute the province with him. He crossed the open space beyond the door, etlmbed mrd, | utterly exhausted, into the warm and fragrant hay, lay there like one dead. Presently sleep began to steal over him. The sounds of the storm without grew fainter. He was just sinking Into a heavy doze when a mingling of loud voices approached the building?a shuffling of footsteps. The latch below was lifted and the door swung open. Alive once more to the horrors of the night, Kendall lifted himself from the hay and peered down. With eyes starting from his head, he saw below the two men In scarlet just entering the barn, bearing between them something that looked like a stark, human body, wrapped about with a cloth. Secure in his hiding place, Kendall neither stirred nor breathed. He heard them talking to each other below; then a snatch of the wild drinking song they had sung at the inn rolled up to the black rafters. After that followed a red light that lit the barn from end to end. Peering out from his lair, Kendall found that the men had lighted a fire in the open space before the door, and were standing on either side of it, wringing the wet from their long black queues. "Now, bring that pitchfork from the corner," quoth one. It was brought and placed in the center of the place. "And unbind the cloth," said the other. They tore the swaddling clothes from the thing they had brought in between them. Held by the steel prongs of the pitchfork, they set it on high above the blaze and the smoke. It was a dead man, stark and stiff; the limbs hanging lifeless, the head rocking on the breast as it swung. It was little wonder that Kendall, from his refuge in the mow, looked down upon it with eyes starting from their sockets, with cold sweat breaking out at every pore. It was his own dead face that he saw?his own dead }?r?/1 \r rntflinp mi/1 mnnl r?cr i horn nhoVP the blazing fire. "Comrade," said one of the scarlet men, "it is your turn to watch now; I am weary." "Not I!" answered the other, with a laugh. "There's Kendall up there In the hay. Let him try his hand at the work." "Kendall!" called both, derisively, "come down, Kendall!" With peals of discordant laughter the miserable man was dragged from the mow. That he was dealing with no mortal power was now evident, and he did not resist. They set him before the fire, face to face with his own stiff corpse. "Dave Kendall," said the scarlet men, "you have led us a long race, and we are tired. See that you keep the tire hot round this friend of ours, while we lie down here to sleep." They flung themselves upon the hay, side by side. It is not often that a man has the chance of contemplating himself dead. With his hair rising on his forehead, Kendall stared at the corpse on high in frightful fascination. The eyes were wide open, the shrunken features, so entirely like his own, were set in a jimjiv ??i uiiiii u*iauie a^nny. me flaine leaped up and Hcked it. every joint writhed nnd clattered against the fork in horrible contortions. "Feed the fire, Kendall?feed the fire!" called his tormentors from the hay. He seized on the combustible straw and cast it on the flame. Then it vanished like frost, leaving neither light I GINIA, WHO LED FIGHT TO des. Party lines were effectually oh- , ermont, a Republican, and Senator Carter of Montana and Warren of eelared that If hides were put on the arness and all other leather goods I of economics was toward free trade. nor heat behind. He worked till the sweat poured off him like rain?all with the same result. The fire began to die out. Then strange, fearful shadows took shape around him. Overhead his own dead face glared down with fixed, glassy eyes. As the blue blaze below lessened the gaunt limbs straightened rigidly out on the fork, and swinging slow in the currents of air, stretched its long palsied arms to the luckless wight below. Human nature could endure this no longer. Kendall looked at the scarlet men. They lay motionless, breathing heavily. With one desperate kick that scattered the remnants of the brands and sent the dead man on the fork flying into empty space, Kendall made for the door. It opened and closed upon him. For the third time that night he fled away, for life itself, through the dack^aiul the storm. Away! away! He scurries over lonely miles of rain-beaten fields again, full of the very blackness of darkness. Again the awful faintness and exhaustion creep upon him. He stops to listen. His foe is baffled. There is no sign of pursuit. All is still. All? He is standing in a highway bordered by a deep hedge. From under this a faint stir of animal life greets him?a muffled grunt deep down In the sheltered leaves. He looks over and sees beneath him the warm bed of a litter of young pigs and their mother, nestling together there in sweet repose. Kendall staggered over the hedge and crawled on hands and knees into this humble shelter. He lay down, giddy and sick. The warmth of the nest struck gratefully to his wet, numbed body. Gradually sleep began to steal over him. His eyes closed. Tramp, tramp, tramp! above there In the open highway. The noise awoke him instantly. It drew nearer and nearer, and stopped beside the hedge. "Comrade," said a voice that turned the blood to ice In Kendall's veins, "you must take this coffin now?It Is growing heavy. I will carry It no further." "Not I!" answered the other, with a laugh. "Here Is Kendall under the hedge. Call him out and let him carry it." A pang of despair smote the hunted man, as, looking up, he saw the two pale faces, under the scarlet' cocked hats, leering down at him from the top of the hedge. With shouts of laughter they dragged him Into the road. A sudden blue glare of lightning lit up the scene then, and Kendall saw, lying at his feet, a black coffin, the lid thrown back, and within, his own dead, clammy face staring blankly up at him. "Pick that up!" said one of the scarlet men, "and come with us, Dave Kendall." Kendall, with a groan, shouldered the coffin. Its enormous weight bent him nearly double. One of the scarlet men went before and one followed behind. "Let us hasten," they cried, "for the night is far spent." With legs tottering under him, and a back bent to breaking, Kendall toiled on with his frightful load. When he lagged the scarlet men behind gave the coffin a tip forward, and the one in front tipped it to the rear, and the live and the dead Kendall fell Into the mud together. Wild, ribald songs rent the thick darkness as they went on. Mile after mile of rainy wood and field the horrible procession dragged past. Presently, the scarlet man in front stopped and called to the other: "Comrade, have we arrived? Comrade, is this the place?" And the other answered: "Comrade, we have arrived. Comrade, this is the place." They opened a gate that creaked on a rusty hinge. Kendall followed them through with his burden. Strange hillocks spread out under his feet. He stumbled over the low stones at the head of the craves. Tresentlv the two scarlet men stopped under a spreading tree. "Set down the coffin here," they said; and Kendall put It down. Then the two men took up from beneath the tree a sexton's shovel and spade. "Take these. Dave Kendall," they said, "and dig us a grave." Kendall took the spade and began to dig. On either side stood the scarlet men, pale and alert. The wet dropped softly from the houghs above; a bird there stirred restlessly. The blue, continual glare of the lightning played on the dead face of the Kendall In the coffin with wicked brilliancy. The task of digging the grave was a long and laborious one. Before it was ended a streak of gray dawn began to show in the bleak east At sight of this the men in scarlet grew impatient "Hurry, Dave Kendall!" they shouted. "It Is finished!" answered Kendall, throwing down shovel and spade be I Aide the new-made grave.' "That Is well," said the scarlet men. "Now take up your coffin and lower It In." Groaning aloud, Dave Kendall knelt on the edge of the grave and strove to obey. There was no rope for the coffin, and half way down, against some projecting rock, It stuck fast and refused to descend. "That will never do," said one of the scarlet men. "Comrade, you must go down and set It aright." "Not I," answered the other; "here Is Kendall; let him go! It Is his grave, and In it he shall lie, and in It he shall rot. Ha! ha!" With a yell they rushed together upon him. Kendall caught up the spade from the side of the grave. "Now, forgive and help me, Oh, Lord Jesus!" he screamed. At sound of that name, a shriek of baffled rage broke from the scarlet men. Kendall smote once with the spade to the right and to the left. The cocked hats went whirling Into the open grave together; the two scarlet figures tumbled after. Dave Kendall dropped his weapon and tearing across the little hillocks and the low headstones, banged to the creaking gate of the churchyard, and ran wildly across the fields. All through the gray day-dawn he wandered on. Gradually all fear left him. A feeling of peace and security and deep repentance took Its place. That he had seen the last of his merciless enemy he felt and knew. And then, lifting up his eyes, Dave Kendall beheld, close before him, two lonely cross-roads and an old inn standing In their fork, Its gables reddening with the first light of the rising sun. The innkeeper received him at the door. "Come In, Dave Kendall," he cried; "come in; the paymaster's money Is waiting for ye, thank the Lord." "The paymaster's money," echoed this poor, jaded, repentent sinner. Don't Joke with me, for God's sake! What do ye say?" The old man dragged him Into the room beyond, and showed him lying on the table there, amid the wreck of the last night's orgle, the knapsack, and, Within it, the paymaster's money, safe fujd sound. Then Molly appeared, and with eyes red from weeping ran up to him and clasped him joyfully round the neck. Sitting down betwixt the two, Kencjkll related the adventures of the fil'They shoved^ the money into the knapsack and flung It down thereT" said the innkeeper, "Just as ye see. Dave Kendall, who do ye think it was that came here to gamble with ye last night?" "The devil," answered Kendall. "Just so; and dear enough ye've paid for it." Then the poor fellow, holding his sweetheart to his breast, knelt there on the hearth of the Inn, and swore a mighty oath that no drop of strong drink should ever pass his lips in life again, and no card taint his hand. This oath was most righteously kept. Such was the story Kendall lived to tell for a half century after. The paymaster's wife received her money; Molly married her penitent lover; but the mystery of that night was never cleared away. The Incredulous called it an attack of delirium tremens, or a practical joke, shared, perhaps, with the old Innkeeper; but, to his dying day, Kendall stoutly declared that a man lived who had looked upon the devil, and beaten him, too. In a handto-hand encounter, and that that man was himself. THE BIRD QF JOVE. UreoKs I nougru cagio uan iou ?vui? to Mount Olympus. In ancient mythology the eagle waa supposed to carry the souls of the dying to the abode on Mt. Olympus, and was called the bird of Jove, says the Pittsburg Sun. The eagle was first taken as a symbol of royal power by the ancient Etruscans, who bore Its image upon Its standards. In the year 87 B. C. a silver eagle, with extended wings, poised on the top of a spear with a thunderbolt held In Its claws, was adopted as the military standard to be borne at the head of their legions by the Romans. In the reign of Hadrian, a golden eagle was substituted for the silver one. The two-headed eagle was adopted by the Byzantine emperors as a symbol of their control of both east and west. The doubleheaded eagle of Russia was adopted at the marriage of Ivan I, with a Grecian princess of the eastern empire; that of Austria was first used when the emperor of Germany took the title of Roman emperor. The national standard of Prussia bears a black eagle, and that of Poland had a white eagle. Napoleon I took a golden eagle for his standard, modelled of pure gold and bearing a thunderbolt after the pattern of the eagle of the Romans. This standard was not used by the Bourbons, but was restored by Louis Napoleon In 1852. The eagle was first used on American coins In 1788, on the cents and halfcents Issued from the Massachusetts mint. It was adopted In the plan of national coinage as a design upon all gold pieces and on the silver dollar, half-dollars and quarter-dollars. The design of an eagle was at one time suggested for the United States flag, but was abandoned. Assouan.?Although he was mild In his speech and manner the old gentleman played golf well. But once when he made a foozle he ejaculated vehemently the word "Assouan!" A few moments later, when he made another bad play, he repeated: "Assouan!" The fourth time one of his friends jo I rl "T oortolnlu /In nnf ? o nf fn ho In quisitlve but will you tell me why you say 'Assouan' so often?" "Well," said the old gentleman, "Isn't that the biggest dam In the world?" He was a clergyman.?Kansas City Journal. jpteerttitttrou? Reading. THE TOBACCO MONOPOLY. Senator Albert J. Beveridge Attacks Vicioua Combine. Senator Albert J. Beveridge of Indiana, delivered a speech in the senate last Friday on the tobacco schedule. He said In part: "The ruling note of this debate has been the need of revenue. This tobacco amendment will give the govern Iment more than |2l,000,000 or revenue and also correct a wrong which the people and a loss which the government has suffered for eight years. When the tariff bill came from the house to the senate it increased the tax on cigarettes?a poor, miserable Increase. Yet the finance committee of the senate actually has struck out this little increase on cigarettes. "The American tax on tobacco is only a fraction of that of most other civilized nations. For example, our tax on most tobacco is 6 cents a pound; but If you take our tariff on the quantity imported and our tax on cigarettes, the total average of our tax on tobacco is 15 cents per pound. But the United Kingdom taxes tobacco 76 cents per pound; France taxes tobacco 76 cents per pound; Italy taxes tobacco 91 cents per pound; Austria-Hungary taxes tobacco 32 cents per pound, etc. France, Italy and Austria-Hungary have government monopolies of tobacco and their tax is estimated on the goveniment profits, which amounts to the same thing as a tax. "So that while our population and consumption are greater than any of these countries, our revenue from tobacco is less than any of these countries. They have fewer people and these people consume less tobacco; and yet their revenues from tobacco are double and even treble ours. To be specific, our present revenue from all forms of tobacco is $49,862,754.26 whereas that of the United Kingdom, with only half the population, consuming only one-third as much tobacco per capita as we consume, is nearly $65,000,000; France, with lees than half of our population, consuming less than one-half of the tobacco we consume per capita, is $74,475,799; Italy, with only one-third of our population, consuming less than one-fifth the tobacco we consume per capita, is $35,300,993; Austria-Hungary, with one-half of our population, consuming less than onehalf the tobacco per capita that we consume, is $47,346,502. The United States, with ninety millions of people, consuming from two to Ave times as much tobacco, per capita as these countries, nevertheless derives from that source of taxation less than $50,000, of revenue. "If we taxed tobacco at the same rate OO C'nt.lnn,1 nr Franr* Wo would everv year derive $333,386,666.62, instead of less than $50,000,000 we now derive. If we taxed tobacco at the same rate the Italians tax theirs, we would every year derive $399,186,666.61, instead of less than $60,000,000 we now derive. IFwe taxed tu%Kwu at same the Austro-Hungarians tax thelre, we would every year derive $280,746,666.62, instead of less than $60,000,000 we now derive." Mr. Beveridge then sketched the history of the American Tobacco company from its organization In 1890. "with tangible assets amounting to $6,000,000, capitalized at $25,000,000." He told of the various tobacco combinations leading up to the organization of the Consolidated Tobacco company in 1901. He continued:. "The Consolidated Tobacco company was in reality a holding company much like the Northern Securities company. On April 8, 1904, the supreme court of the United States held such a company illegal; and therefore, In October, 1904, the Consolidated, the American and the Continental tobacco companies were all merged Into one company called the American Tobacco company?an entirely new corporation. This new American Tobacco company gave Its securities in exchange for the securities of the Consolidated, Continental and old American tobacco companies which were then held outside of these three companies themselves. By a process of cancellation of Intercompany holdings, exchange of securities, etc., the new American Tobacco company was capitalized In October, 1904, at $247,292,100, much of which was water. In a word the old American Tobacco company had grown In a few years from a capitalization of $25,000,000 into the new American Tobacco company, with a capitalization of almost $250,000,000; and if we include the numerous. corporations In which it bought a control of the stock, and other corporations which it formed, the entire net capitalization of the trust amounts to about $317,000,000. "Thus, safe from the law, the tobacco trust pursued its career of absorption of rival concerns toward its goal of monopoly. Up to the present time it has acquired more than .two hundred and fifty separate concerns and combinations. Where necessary, it has undersold competitors, bought up patents, used the coupon or lottery system?done everything its managers could invent. It has entered every branch of the business, and excepting only cigars, has a larger monopolistic power than any busines concern in the nation excepting the Standard Oil company. "Not only has the tobacco trust secured this vast monopolistic power, but in doing so it has stopped at no means, whether legitimate or illegitimate. For example, it has purchased many independent concerns and kept their purchase secret as long as possible, using such concerns to wage still more effective warfare against other nnnoomo Tt hn? kent Its agents In every state where legislation affecting its Interests has been under consideration?notably anti-flgarette legislation; and in at least one instance the attempted bribery by one of its local lobbyists, under written directions from its general lobbyist, by the direct use of cash, has been exposed and is well known to the world. "It has not been content with the manufacturing and wholesale business, but has invaded the retail trade, and Is now making as rapid strides toward the control of this as it did in A ol A j nf nnHultv Thn otnroa i\t UllICI IICIUO "i. iwimij. AHV H%v*vo w* the United Cigar Stores company now seen In every large city are owned by the American Tobacco company. Indeed. It would take many hours to lay before the senate the detailed activities of this giant combination. "Notwithstanding its enormous overcapitalization its profits have been so great that It has paid the interest on Its bonds and preferred Stocks, and very large dividends on Its common stock. The astonishing growth of the profits of the combination are indicated by the fact that in 1899 Its profits were $7,204,560.92, while In 1906 its profits were X26.719.516.12?an increase of more than 600 per cent "This, then, la the corporation upon which the greater proportion of the tax proposed in this amendment will fall; this the corporation which is now so bitterly resisting the adoption of this amendment; this the corporation which has added to its profits every cent of the tax that was taken off in 1901 and 1902, and which, from that time to this, has been putting into its own treasury the tax collected from the people through the increased price which it made when the war tax was put on.** ELECTRICAL TERM8 DEFINED. What a Kilowatt Hour is and What It Will Do. Owners of electric vehicles are often puzzled by the different terms used for the measurement of electric current. The words "amperes," "volts" > and "watts" are quite meaningless to the uninitiated, and when an electric charging station makes a price for current of 6 or 10 cents per kilowatt hour the average unscientific man doesn't quite grasp Its meaning. To explain the term needs first, a clear definition, and then a comparison. Every one will understand that a certain amount of force must be used to drive electric current through a circuit This force is measured by volts; thus we have 110-vdlt currents and 220- volt currents, the one expressing Just twice the force of the other; but the quantity of current passing through a circuit depends upon the force and the resistance, and so the quantity is expressed by a different term, vis., "amperes." Now the efficiency of the current depends upon both force and quantity, and to express this efficiency or united action we multiply the force by the quantity?that Is, the volts by the amperes and express the results in watts. Thus 110 volts multiplied by 6 amperes Is 550 watts, or 220 volts multiplied by 5 amperes is 1100 watts. A kilowatt Is, of course, 1000 watts, which Is the equivalent of about 11-3 hone power. In charging a battery the lighting companies bill for the use of so many wntts for so many hours?thus 1000 watts for 10 hours would be charged as 10 kilowatt houm, which, at 5 cents a kilowatt hour, would be 60 cents, a charge that seems little enough for 10 hours' use of 11-3 horse power. But what a kilowatt hour Is worth many be judged by what it will do. Thus a kilowatt hour will Hght twen ty 16-canaiepower incandescent uunpe or two standard arc lamps for on? hour; it will pump 100 gallons of water to a height of 26 feet; compress 470 cubic feet of free air 100 pounds; drive mi uK?> innHm ~S>SWi?iii I feet; pritat ,600 circulars on a 10sflF? Gordon press, or 1,000 sheets on a 32x47 cylinder press; run a sewing machine for 20 hours; supply air for a church organ for one service; mix 21 cubic yards of concrete; heat a twopint chaflng dish for four hours; mix sufficient dough for 1,600 loaves of bread, and grind 600 pounds of coffee; it will drive a runabout 41 miles or a three-ton truck one mile. When therefore a lighting company charges 6 cents a kilowatt hour for current for your electric vehicle you can estimate the value of what you are getting by what it will do In other lines of industry. FARMER MU8T LEARN. Blindness In Failing to Realize 8ome of Their Opportunities. Recently Prof. John M. Coulter delivered an address at the conference for education in the south. He spoke on the improvement of rural conditions, and said some things that were not relished. The Charleston News and Courier, commenting on the statements, makes some of Its own on the general subject of the blindness of farmers in failing to realize their opportunities. It cites "Kansas selling millions of dollars' worth of eggs, and yet South Carolina buying chickens In in Kansas." It continues: "Food nroducts rise in price from day to day, and will continue to rise, because Increase in the production of foodstuffs Is not In proportion to the Increase of population in any rapidly growing country, where cities and towns, with their manufacturing peoples, are constantly expanding, but the farmers of South Carolina neglect a region not less adapted to producing foodstuffs than any other in the world. We have the soil and the rainfall for forage crops in abundance?but we Import beef; we have grass on a thousand hills and In meadows for flocks of sheep?but inherited habit has converted the luxury of a sheep-killing dog into a necessary life; we have a land equal to France or Italy for the production of the grape?but we despise wines and force those of our own people who crave beverages to drink whisky and "get drunk;" and we vainly imagine that because the perfect apples of northern New York and the luscious peaches of California will not grow in South Carolina without atten* * ~ " M *WA,. m||1 lion, come up, vuiuuim, mcjr mil not grow at all In South Carolina. What Church Would Joaua Join?? Answering the question, "What church would Jesus Join If He were In New York?" the Rev. Dr. Charles A. Eaton told his congregation at the Madison Avenue Baptist church that he did not believe Jesus would join any. He said, in part: If Jesus came to New York, which church would He Join? I'm afraid some of the churches wouldn't let Him in. He wouldn't be orthodox, and He would be sure to be too broad. He might prefer going out on a street corner and talking to a newsboy or a bartender or a pickpocket to speaking from the pulpit of one of our fine edifices. He'd be a most difficult member to get along with in any church for He'd be too unconventional. We have elevated our rituals to a place of first Importance. I do not believe, if Jesus came to New York, that He would care to Join any of our churches. He would say, "My church consists of all."