Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, February 15, 1910, Image 1

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I - ' . tl . \ .. .^ .... % \ J ; ; l. ; 0w8t:rsons, pnbiiihers. j " T Jamilfi gursgaptr: Jfor th< promotion o( the jgoHtical. Social, jflriinllnral and (Eotnroncial Jntmsls of th< ftoglt. { IE3^ABLlSHEi>l855. " "" YORKVILLE, S. C., TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 15, 191Q. JSTO. 13. Synopsis of Preceding Chapters. Chapter I?Judith Bartelmy, society woman, goes to the office of the Daily Advance to protest against a story which had severely criticised her father. a judge of the United States court She discovers that the author of the article was Wheeler Brand, a brilliant young writer whom she had promised to marry. He refuses to cease attacking her father. II?Judith discards her engagement ring. Dupuy, a lawyer, representing big advertisers, calls and demands Brand's discharge, as his cliF ents are friends of Judge Bartelmy. Ill?Brand is discharged by the managing editor, for the paper, long owned by an Insurance company, had been friendly to corporations. Michael Nolan, who buys the^ paper, comes in the office and finds L>upuy to oe an oia enemy of his. IV?Nolan calls for Brand and makes him managing editor. V?Brand tells Nolan and his socially ambitious family that the dishonest judge, Bartelmy, and his unsuspecting daughter have taken them up socially so as to try to Induce Nolan not to attack the Judge in his newspaper. VI? Dupuy aids Bartelmy in endeavoring to have Brand and the Advance avoid attacking the judge regarding a tricky opinion he has rendered in the Lansing Iren case. "Every man has his price, , even Brand," says Dupuy. VII?Nolan says if Brand will trap Bartelmy in the act of offering him a bribe to keep silent that the Advance will print the story in full. VIII?Bartelmy agrees to pay Brand $10,000 to keep quiet about the Lansing Iron case. IX.? Brand lays the trap for Bartelmy. X?Bartelmy arrives at the Advance office to pay Brand the $10,000. XI? Brand, aided by three reporters, takes a flashlight photograph of Bartelmy offering the $10,000 bribe money and obtains by a most ingenious telephone trick and accurate record of the judge's words as he counted cut the money. XII?Sylvester Nolan, son of the paper's owner, endeavors to prevent publication of the story arid photograph in the Advance. Dupuy also proves powerless to influence Brand. XIII?Mrs. Nolan tried to stop the story. Nolan hesitates about letting the , story go to press. Finally he says: "Show the big thieves up, Wheeler. Put the story through." CHAPTER XIV. Brand and McHenry began eagerly to inspect the final proofs of the Bartelmy story. Two figures suddenly stood in the doorway of the composing room. Ed Dupuy's telephone call was beginning to show results. Judge Bartelmy and Judith, ready for a last effort to prevent the publication of the condemnatory article, quite unobserved, to whero Brand and his asso elate editor were at work. "Don't [ come In yet. Wait a few moments," whispered the judge. The girl slipped down the hall into the managing editor's little office, the coign of vantage from which she had previously been able to hear all that took place in the composing room. Bartelmy proceeded directly to the form before which the two editors were working, and Brand saw that he must undergo another unpleasant encounter before the presses began to whirl off his story. He glanced impatiently at the clock and SHE THREW HERSELF < raised his brows (juestioningly to the judge. "Mr. Brand, has Mr. Nolan been here tonight?" asked Bartelmy. "Yes." "Have you received instructions about this story?" "Yes." "What were those instructions? Is the story to be printed?" "I am not at liberty to discuss with any out9ide person the communications I receive from the owner, but I will add for your information that the story will be on the press in a very few minutes." At this latest declaration of Brand's Judith could restrain herself no long?:*. She rushed through the ' doorway, across the grimy flor, regardless of the flowing train of her silk gown. Brand rubbed the back of his hand ffrURTM Novelized by FREDERICK R. TOOMBS From the Great Play I !*? Coma Momo U1 UIC >/ailib A-.u**.w by Joseph Medill Pitterson and Harriet Ford. 0 0 COPYRIGHT. 19*9. BT JOSEPH MEOILL PATTERSON AND HARRIET rORD. across his eyes as though they were deceiving him. "Good God, it is Judith!" he exclaimed. Then he turned to his assistant. "Here, Mac, hurry?take this form away." The girl's face and eyes were aglow with the effects of the nervous strain under which she labored on that epoch making and epoch breaking night before the startled night shift of the Advance. "Wheeler, you're not going to use that picture?" she pleaded. "Take the form away," again ordered Brand, his voice almost failing him. "No, no: don't send it! Wait, wait!" She threw herself over the inky form, her arms outstretched. Brand tried to draw her away. "Judith, please!" he protested. "They can't have"? She was hysterical. "Go to lunch, boys," ordered Brand to the typesetters. "We'll miss the mail," protested McHenry. "I don't care. Go to lunch." The compositors ceased work at the linotypes and, wondering and whispering, slowly filed out. "Judith," Brand besought her, "won't you"? "Listen to me. Wheeler," she broke in. "I know everything. Father has told me everything about?his?guilt. You understand what it means to me? what he is to me. You must spare him for me!" "Judith, it's impossible." "But it is the human thing to do. Oh, forget these ideals. Be just a man ?a man who loves a woman and protects her. You do love me, I know, in spite of everything that you've done." "ies, 1 iove you: ne cneu icnciiu;. "And Wheeler, dear, I've not changed." she told him fondly. "I can see how right you mean to be In what you are trying to do, but in this you are" wrong? Whatever my father may have done, his intentions were honest. He had been involved by others and when he tried to extricate himself it was too late. They, not he, were guilty. It was for their sakes, not his own, that he offered you that money, so you see you are wrong. Why, Wheeler, if you belonged to me and committed a crime I would die to shield you from the penalty." Brand answered her quickly. "That is wrong reasoning." "No, no! it is right. That must always be," she cried. "It is like?like a law of life. Can't you see that too? I belong to you. Yes, I belong to you, and you should shield me. You must feel toward my father as he were your own because he is mine. It's not possible that you would do this thing to your own father. Think of him that way?your own father! You'll not re niii. vi OYER THE IXKY FORM. gret it. I'll make it up to you with all my love for all the rest of life! Wheeler. say you will do what I ask." She broke down completely and sobbed brokenly, leaning across the form. "Oh. say you will do what I ask!" Brand tried to raise her, but she clung to him frenziedly. "Judith, for God's sake, don't!" he said. "Yes, yes; you must, you shall!" she was losing all control of herself in her i desDeration. "Judith, listen to ine," he said inspiredly. "I'm not the man who loves you or is loved by you. I've no right to think of you or of myself. I'm an instrument to an end in the history of a great God. Can't you see this thing as I do?" "I can't reason. I can't argue. I can only feel." The judge had drawn a few steps away from the pair during the scene between them. He viewed with calculating satisfaction the battle that his daughter was waging so valiantly in his behalf, and he had felt that not even the young stoic Brand could resist this powerful and final appeal of the gill he loved. At his daughter'* last outcry he drew near the editor. "Brand, are you human?" he demanded strongly, pointing to the prostrated girl with his walking stick. "Human, human, Judge Bartelmy!" he exclaimed. "You are true to youri aoif to tho pnd_ You brine vour daueh ter here so that by torturing me with "JUDGE BARTELMY, THAT 8T0RY ING HIS EYES TO THOS the sight of her suffering you may escape the penalty of your thievery. I was willing she should think me heartless to spare her the greater pain of knowing you as you are. But now you bring her here in her innocence to repeat to me your lies. You're degrading her, dragging her down to your own level, Just as you did her mother before her. If she lets you go on using her it will be with her eyes open." Judith raised her head amazedly. "What are you saying?" she asked. Brand turned to her and then to the Judge. "Why, he's lied to you Just as he's lied all his life. He told you he was trying to shield others. He lied. He never shielded any one but himself. Judge Bartelmy, the power of men like you must be destroyed. When justice is corrupted the nation rots. If I keep silent about you and your methods I become your accomplice; I be! tray my trust just as you have betrayed yours." Bartelmy raised his nand deprecatingly. Brand, however, drew a deep breath and went resolutely on. He spoke to both the girl and tne juage. "Judith, If at the cost of my life I could spare you this grief I would do it gladly. But even that would do no good. You would always despise me for failing when my test came and always despise yourself for having caused me to fail. Can't you see you and I are nothing in all this? The individual does not exist, only the cause. Judge Bartelmy, that story goes to press," he cried, raising his eyes to meet those of Judith's father. Bartelmy saw that he had played his last card. It was his highest trump, but it had failed to win. What Judith could not do he surely, under the existing circumstances, could not do. Nolan, the only man who could save him if he would, had gone, he knew not where. And it was now press time. All was over. Bartelmy took a single step toward his daughter. "Brand, that story is my obituary," he said in low tones. "Oh, no," was the response in saddened voice. "Men like you don't finish that way. You'll have about six hours, judge, before tnat story is reau by the public." Judith, too, was ready to admit that her last and culminating .effort had been in vain. Wearied and unstrung, she raised herself from the fatal form that was to besmirch the name and the father that had been her source ol pride. She crossed over toward hei father, who stood silent and despairingly in the shadow of one of the linotype machines. "Ooodby, Wheeler. I am going out of your life forever. I am sorry it had to end like this?all our plans, all oui hopes"? The thought of the happy moment? that she had spent with Wheeler building air castles for their future when they would be man and wife came over her. It swept down the wall 1 of reserve and determination with thr which she had deemed it necessary to hei surround herself. She halted and of gazed steadfastly Into her father's the face. Slowly she raised her hands and en< pressed them against her cheeks as flyl though horror stricken. Then she ? the ' n " fj(j |r Fo?'f? dragging her down to your own ??l( toed.- ope at turned, rushed impulsively back to cry Wheeler Brand, and bending tensely an<; toward him, she searched his strong He young face as best her tear dimmed t,he tur 1111 anc sle< J i the | VE S^vs^ a ( she gre mo: __ whl 1?7 gen GOES TO PRESS," HE CRIED, RA.1BE OF JUDITH'S FATHER. not 7 eyes would let her. He returned hfir edu gaze unflinchingly. a s< Judge Bartelmy saw the girl's strug- def gle to decide between the father who nur had dishonored her name and the lov- spe er, who meant a life of happiness, pur- I ity, success and inspiration. He was def wise enough In the ways of the world bllr to know that again was Brand to prove of ' a victor over him. bra The girl stood Immovable a moment me: Then she extended her arm toward tha her lover. Judith Bartelmy had made tar: her choice. goo The Judge's features showed but lit- ed tie of the storm into which his emo- the tlons had been plunged. His years of aat| practiced self-control had come to his the aid and enabled him to face the ruin 0f i of his career and his life and his name ^or without the frenzied demonstration In wa< 1 I Ch' hp i "Six hours, did you aay, Mr. Brandt" fac acr : which most men in his position would I have indulged. To the last he was the cool, polished, suave hypocrite that he : had been in the beginning, when those I who sought to loot the public for pri, vate gain found him a willing tool, i "He is right," Bartelmy said to Ju- ^ | dith. "He has tol<] you the truth toI night?the absolute truth." He looked at his watch. "Six hours, did you say, Mr. Brand?" he asked. 0 Brand had gathered Judith in his an( arms. She sighed contentedly as she |( t laid her head upon his shoulder. ^ I "Yes," he answered the Judge. ing Judge Bartelmy stood watching the Ne1 united couple for a moment before he i turned and walked away, muttering , as he went: "Six hours. One may the > travel far in these days in that time." me * ma rhe great ship heaved and lunged ough the giant seas that swept over bows, out of the freezing night, out the cold northeast. The captain and i first officer, lashed to opposite is of the lofty bridge, choked in the Ing spume of wind riven mldocean. Somewhere a deep toned bell told of i hour in the sailors' accustomed hlon. From somewhere out of the >ths of the vast groaning: fabric nbled the men of the watch who re now to go on duty to relieve ir storm beaten fellows. tnd somewhere down In the shiver; rearing hull a gaunt faced, hollowed man lay on the saffron hued velcushlong of c. narrow couch at the e of a luxurious stateroom. He was ly dressed in spite of the lateness of i hour and of the fact that he was splng?Just as he had been the night ore. He tossed uneasily. Someies he thrust his hand out convulely as though to ward off a threatng danger. He began to talk incoently. The ship rolled, and a tray italning dishes and an evening meal t had gone untouched crashed to floor. "The press?the printing ss?has started," he muttered disitedly as the sound of the breaking hes penetrated into his wearied .in. His hand instinctively crept ler one of the cushions. It grasped I for a moment fumbled with a blue el object, which it drew weakly th?a revolver. The shock of the a steel roused the sleeper. He ned his eyes and gazed fascinatedly the instrument of death. With a of terror he relaxed his fingers, 1 the object dropped to the floor, groaned the groan of a lost soul in anguish of its never ceasing tore. He turned his face to the wall I tried in vain to close his eyes in *p. udgment had been pronounced in case of "JUDGE BARTELMY RSUS THE PEOPLE, WHEELER AND AND THE ADVANCE." THE END. WORD BLINDNESS. Curious Occasional Broken Function of the Mind. t is scarcely open to question that education should be individual, but ortunately this requirement canbe met in our crowded schools, s state is compelled to require a nite amount of knowledge from ?A ?r?f> The cngagcu in vtib Icultles to which this may give rise i illustrated by the following stories pupils who despite earnest endeavcould never learn to write corrector to read fluently, or to pass the minatlons provided for the lowest sses, although some of them are e to accomplish Important scientific rk. A perfectly healthy fifteenr-old girl, one of the best pupils of highest class of a German school. Id not spell corectly either German foreign words, either from dlctai or from memory. She could write ;le characters perfectly; she could > read a single series of musical es and play the violin by note, but could not read piano music. The iculty was that she was unable to mess the picture of the word on memory. By the employment of freat number of aids to memory succeeded in making much pross, but she continued to make the st incredible errors In writing, Ich sharply contrasted with the eral excellence of her work at ool. She could not read fluently ause the Image of the word was present to her memory. 'he girl's grandmother, a highly lentod woman, her great-uncle and on of the latter exhibited the same ects. Each of the men wrote a nber of scientific works, but the lling had to be corrected by others, n this case, therefore, this same ect, which the English call "word idness," appeared in four members one family. As we know that the in contains a special centre for the mory of words we must conclude t the entire absence of this elemen/ faculty in persons otherwise of d mental equipment must be causby a defect in this small part of brain. As such persons cannot Isfy the requirements exacted in lowest classes they are In danger never reaching the higher ones. In idon one case of word blindness i found among each 2,000 school Idren. With proper appreciation the conditions it should be posslto carry on the education of such hlld if otherwise intelligent. This, vever, cannot be accomplished by parents or by benevolent societies, cientlfic American. THE GUARD WAS ANGRY. t the Pretty Girl Didn't Need Hie Protection. 'assengers on a subway car bound m Brooklyn to New York on Sun' afternoon had an experience that sed frowns and then a laugh, 'he car was crowded, but all the nen had seats. On the platform i a middle aged man, apparently pectable. Qn a side seat was a I in old rose, with cheeks to match, 'he man on the platform caught ' eye for a moment ana mrew a ntlc kiss. The girl first smiled, n blushed furiously, le threw another, and she turned ly a crimsoned face. That will about do for you," said big, rawboned guard. "Go ne to your wife." 'his didn't seem to worry the apently respectable man, and, catcha glint from the girl's eyes, he ew another kiss. She turned her e to study carefully, a pretty hat oss the car. it the Manhattan end of the bridge girl rose to leave the car. The n who was trying to flirt with her 5 faced "the sliding door. By that ,e all eyes were on the pair, the ird was mad all through, and a iple of passengers edged dangerily close. in niri msfi took the arm the apparently respectable man 1 said In a sllvery voice that all ild hear: Oh, papa, how could you?" 7hen everybody laughed at a Jokfather and a lovely daughter.? iv York Press. i" It does not necessarily follow that i one who can Indite the most sentlntal valentine will make the best te. piscellanfous grading. BUILDING UP THE SOUTH. An Address by Clarence E. Poe, Editor of the Progressive Farmer. Columbia, S. C., Feb. 9."?For some time the university has been expecting a visit from Clarence H. Poe, the versatile editor of the Progressive Farmer of Raleigh, N. C. He came yesterday on his wav to Atlanta to attend the Cotton Products' convention. His address in the university chapel inspired I the young men. President Mitchell says of him: "Clarence Poe is one of the sanest thinkers in the south and In this address he has given the gist of his thought as to the best way in which to build up our country. His mind is eminently practical, and he has built cencretely with the constructive forces at work in the south today. Mr. Poe is liberal, sympathetic and structural in all his plans to promote the welfare of the people in this region. He is a self-made man. "He has epitomized in his own personal experience the difficulties under which the south in the last half century has labored. By sheer force of character, clearness of intellect, and dint of perseverance, he has forced( his way to the front as a leader of public thought. Through his admirable paper he exercises great Influence, especially as regards better farming, growth of community life in the rural districts, good roads, better schools and independence in thought." His address at the university was so timely, pointed and - direct in its Import that it Impressed the entire student body and faculty. Mr. Poe stands for a practical programme of progress in the south which necessarily appeals to the aspiring youth. His address was another in the series at the university of practical talks on present topics. Mr. Poe met the large audience that listened to his able speech, of which the following 1b a synopsis: We have neglected our average man. This has been our great trouble. Talk about a state's resources, there is only one resource, the man, the child, the citizen present or future, and his intelligence, character and strength? his average intelligence, character and strength. This is the measure of all other values, and in speaking to you, I am going to lay down this as my first and primary proposition. To develop our state we must develop the intelligence and efficiency of t our average population, and the mate- 8 rial resources of the state?minerals, j soils, water powers, climate, forests or t what not are valuable or worthless in g proportion to the efficiency?the Intel- t ligence, energy and character of your j average citizen. Secondly, I declare to you with no e less emphasis that the prosperity of c every Individual man Is measured by ( the prosperity, the efficiency?that Is ^ to say, the efficiency and character of the average man In the community. a No matter what trade, business or 0 profession you may follow, you pros- j per just in proportion to the intelli- a gence and wealth of the average man c with whom you have to deal. In other t words not only does the prosperity of a the state as an organization and of c society as a whole depend on the pros- j perlty of the average man, but the t prosperity of every trade, art and craft r In a community and the prosperity of t every individual in the community, j from the boy on the street who blacks g your shoes to the master mind who or- v ganizes your railway systems or governs your state?the prosperity of ev- j ery individual, I say, depends upon the j, efficiency of the average man. The great principle of democracy to j. which our American government is t dedicated, is not confined to the world , of politics, but applies with equal force f In the economic and industrial world. c We must revise not only our old arls- r tocratic Ideas of government, but our t old aristocratic Ideas of wealth and t Industry as well. These old fatal mis- ^ conceptions have shackled us too long, j, and there Is hope for us only in realizing that business Is, by nature, not j aristocratic, but democratic. t The poorer every other man Is, the . poorer you are. The richer every oth- g er man is, the richer you are?not the ( reverse of this, as too many people ^ have long believed. c Every man whose earning power Is j below par, below normal, Is a burden a on the community; he drags down the ? whole level of life and every other t man In the community Is poorer by rea- t son of his presence, whether he be ^ white man or negro, or what not. Your e untrained, Inefficient man Is not only f a poverty-breeder for himself, but the v contagion of It curses every man In the community who is guilty of leaving a him untrained. The law of changeless Justice decrees that you Just rise or fall, decline or prosper with your neighbor. You will be richer for his -| wealth, poorer for his poverty. And so today every man who Is tilling an acre of land in the south so that It produces only half what Intel- t llgently directed labor would get out c of It, every man who Is doing poor g work of any kind, every man who is creating and earning only 50 or 75 r cents a day instead of from three to j ten times as much, as intelligent labor would do, every inefficient man, t no matte.1 In what line of work, is a s burden on the community is dragging 0 down the level of life for every other man in the community. ^ Suppose you are his fellow-citizen; then because of his inefficiency, his j poverty, because of his failure to contribute to public movements, you must have poorer roads, poorer schools, a ^ meaner school house and courthouse, a ^ shabbier church, lower-priced lands; j your teacher will be more poorly paid, your preacher's salary will be small- ^ er. your newspaper will have a smaller j, circulation, your town will be a poorer market, your railroad will have smaller traffic, your merchant smaller trade, ^ your bank smaller deposits, your man- o ufacturer diminished patronage, and so on and on. The ramifications are Infinite, unending. On the other hand, every efficient man, every man trained to do good work, whether by the schools or by any j, other method. Is making the whole . community richer. If by doing better work he earns $2, $3 or $5 a day in- r stead of 30 or 50 cents?does not that mean your merchant will have more trade, your bank larger deposits, your p lewsp&per better patronage, your >reacher a larger salary, your county ind state better resources, so that your *oads, schools and school houses will ill feel and show the thrill of a new jower that has come to them. Every man who comes Into the com- < nunlty with new talent or skill, a Ger- < nan says, every man trained by any < nethod to greater efficiency and dynanlc Intelligence?every such man lifts :he whole level or prosperity for the i :ommun!ty. No matter what you have i :o sell?your muscular labor, your i iklU. vour scientific knowledge, vour nanufacturing product, your land?you jet for It In proportion to the efficiency 1 md prosperity of the average man with whom you deal and the great tmeses In the community must be in- 1 elllgent and efficient If the general evel of prosperity Is to be high. "The farmer, the common laborer of i iny sort, needs no training. Educate llm and you spoil him. The poorer 1 rou keep him the richer will be the < ipper classes." . These have been our rreat pet fallacies. And a long time < lave they been preached. 1 Hugging this vampire delusion, the louthern plantation owner has seen 1 rast areas abandoned to broomsedge ind gullies. In spite of the fact that ' ntelllgent handling would have kept ' hem productive for 1,000 years, , i Preaching this fatal doctrine, the ' nerchant has sold western meat and i icooters and tobacco, when, with >rosperous patrons, he might have 1 luadrupled his profits by selling sulky >lows and hai*vester8 and carriages : ind pianos. Deluded by. this fallacy, the states- < nan has struggled against fate, only o die and be forgotten by people too , >oorly educated to read his biography, ' ind too poor In property to build a ' nonument to his memory, whll* ] imallor and meaner men In sections I mshackled by these ancient errors, are 1 amed in song and story. Writing editorials in support of the < trlstocratlc Instead of the democratic ' heory of industry, the editor has seen 1 lis patent-outside weekly fail to sup- < >ort, when a properly trained and i ducated people would have brought 1 ilm wealth and the head of a prosper- < >us dally. 1 Fighting public taxation for better ' rchools and methods of training or en- 1 ichlng the average man, your man- ' lfacturer has struggled along with a 1 imall business, when a prosperous 1 iverage man would have given us 1 rreat industries like those in the : lorth and west. Still arguing that education- and ' raining would spoil the worklngraan, 1 ind that cheap labor Is what we need, I rour banker has complained that the 1 louth offers no opportunities for the ' rreat financier, forgetting that cheap, 1 inprosperous labor means small, un- < iiuapciuus UdllAO. Your doctor, lawyer, preacher, teachx?each. falling- In- line with the an- ' :Ient heresy?has paid the penalty. In liminished fees, diminished salaried, llminlshed Influence. Victims of the vicious teaching, I ,m pointing out, our men of talent? irtist, sculptor, poet, orator?have oo often fled to other sections or else .mong a people untrained to apprelate their genius?when but for hese things you might see statues of outhern leaders In all great Amerlan cities the work of southern artists n the world's greatest galleries, the hought of the southern poet the comnon heritage of mankind. It Is not hat we have had no mighty dreamers; t Is that they sleep in neglected rraves, trampled under foot by war and vaste and error. Now, war and waste, thank Ood, are >ehlnd us. Let us also put error beilnd us. Of all our errors, our greatest has >een the failure to recognize the fact hat the prosperity of every man detends upon the prosperity, (and thereore upon the intelligence and efflilency) of the average man?and In nany cases the actual acceptance of he doctrine that the state Is benefited >y having cheap, unintelligent labor. Ve now see, on the contrary, that such abor is a curse. And our second great error has been ike unto it?the belief that even If he prosperity of every man does de>end upon the prosperity of the averige?we are too poor to train him. The ruth Is that we are too poor not to lo so. The fullest and freest training if the average Is the one and only postlve guarantee of southern prosperity, ind by this I mean the prosperity not inly of our section and of our instituions and of society as a whole, but the irosperlty of every Individual?every armer, every laborer, every merchant, very manufacturer, every professional nan, every inhabitant?from the boy vho blacks your shoes to the master nlnd that builds railroad systems or roverns your state. TOWER OF BABEL. Traditions as to the Height of the Famous Structure. The actual height at which the last tone of that famous structure, the ower of Babel, rested, cannot, on acount of the remoteness of the times .t which It is said to have existed, ver become more than a matter of nerest conjecture. Herodotus, who lved about 1,700 years after that great spiral way to heaven" is said o have been attempted, says that he ( aw at Babylon a structure consisting , if eight towers raised one above an- ( ither, each seventy-five feet in height, ( iut whether this ruin was the remains ( f the tower of Babel It was even then j ji-i_ in Uorn/lntiiQ mpOSHlUI? II< aatci Lam. uvivv.v>m~, isually minutely exact In his writings, eaves us In Ignorance as to how the ipper level of each of these seventyIve foot towers was reached from the evel below. As might be expected, even In tralltlon, a wide difference of opinion exsts as to the height of the tower. Most rientallsts maintain that God did not ut a stop to the work until the tower tad reached a height of 10,000 fathms, or about twelve miles. In Ceyonese tradition, It Is said to have been s high as 20,000 elephants, each tandlng one above the other. St. Jeome asserts on the authority of perons who had examined the ruins that t did not reach a height exceeding our-miles. Other statements are still nore extravagant.?London Saturday teview. WA camel has twice the carrying I lower of an ox. | ] WHAT MAKE8 POPULARITY? Character, Kindness, Tact Are Among Moat Important Factors. There la now and then a man who poses aa caring nothing for the opinion of the rest of mankind, and aa alike indifferent to their esteem and good will or their condemnation and dislike. "Poses" is used advisedly, for no normal man ever took such an attitude genuinely, and the assumption of It can usually be accounted for by a desire to gain notoriety and be talked about as a singular person, different from, and superior to, the mass. It Is, of course, possible, and it Is not Infrequent occurrence, for a man to find his opinion and convictions In sharp opposition to those of the community in which he is. In such case If he is a man of courage and conscience, while he would prefer to be in accord with his neighbors, he must, if need be, be true to himself first, no matter what degrde of popularity has been, his or to what extent his standing to his colois may forfeit it One self-approving hour whole years outweigh, Of stupid stares and of loud hussars. While this is true, there is a popularity which Is legitimate and desirable, and which Is entirely proper for a man to seek and cultivate. To some men It comes without effort; in fact, Bcems to be one of the gifts they were born to. For others It appears to be d attainable, no matter how much they may strive for it There are a few men who are exceptionally attractive and likeable, by temperament and disposition, carrying with them everywhere an atmosphere ot kindliness and ;ood humor, always unselfish and obliging. and endowed with such graces and charm that everyone likes and praises. 'The most popular man In bis class," "the royal good fellow," on everybody's lips, is born, not made. Nevertheless, a man without extraordinary gifts, if he but possesses tact, which cannot be acquired, may, by paHence and Judicious care and effort, make himself universally popular. He must, in the first place, of course, have the solid basis of character worthy of esteem if he wishes to become generally liked for other qualities. Then he must proceed by always, under all circumstances, showing the true kindness?which springs from a good beart. It Is, perhaps, the most important thing of all, the one quality which, were it universal, would transform the earth. The man who never forgets to be kind whenever there is opportunity has laid the cornerstone of a satisfying popularity. Kindness in its broad lense implies fairness also. If you are kind to a person you must of necessity, If called on to judge him or to decide between his Interests and those of mother or your own, be fair to him. There Is nothing a man feels sooner or nose keenly tharf a lack <*4MH5ess In the treatment he receives. The demand Tor It springs from the same universal Instinct that claims justice, which Is fairness. The very children understand It, and are quick to condemn anything In their work or games that "Is not fair." Kindness also carries with It unvarying courtesy and politeness, aven to those who are churlish and rude. Nothing goes further in disarming dislike and transmitting indifference into liking. When you are a dost treat all your guests, no matter what differences may exist between them, with equal attention and cor ilderation, and let your intercourse tvith them be' conversation, and not talking all on one side. Kindness also in Its full sense is . lot confined to demeanor, but Includes generosity. A man to be popular must not only be ready, but must have the lisposition to share what Is good and desirable with his friends and :ompalnons, and to bestow of his abundance upon the needy. It is better to help as many as you can, even If it be but a little, rather than to do a great deal for a few. It Is Important to remember, too, that even kindness must be exercised with tact or it may lefeat its own object A tactful man ;an reiuse a requeue ana um&e a menu where a blundering, blunt, untactful 3ne will alienate a friend in granting i favor. Tact is the indispensable so:!al lubricant without which, no matter how well adjusted the machine may Pe, there will be friction and unpleasant creaking. These are the main points which a man should keep in view who desires popularity. There are a few minor pnes. Dress as well as your Income idmlts, but always without ostentation or display, and always with scrupulous neatness and cleanliness. Never put on any airs, and never try to Imitate the style or manners of anypne else. Be perfectly natural and uniffected. Some very good people bring themselves into ridicule by little manlerisms and affectations which they lave somehow come to think are agreeible or desirable to distinguish them, rhere cannot be a greater mistake. In short, if you want to be popular, ana t le a laudable desire, be always kind ind always a lady or gentleman. If rou are always kind In a genial, tact,'ul way and always a lady or gentle* nan you will be popular, whether you vant to or not.?Cincinnati Inquirer. Franklin's Motion For Prayer*. I have lived for a long time (elghty>ne years), and the longer I live the nore convincing proofs I see In this ruth, that God governs in the affairs >f man. And if a sparrow can not tall o the ground without his notice, is it irobable that an empire can rise with>ut his aid? We have been assured in he sacred writings, that, "Except the l?ord build the house, they labor in rain that build it." I firmly believe his; and I also believe that without lis concurring aid we shall proceed n this political building no better than he builders of Babel; we shall be dlrided by our little, partial, local lnerests; our prospects will be con'ounded; and we ourselves shall be:ome a reproach and a by-word to fuure ages. And what is worse, mankind may hereafter, from this unforunate instance despair of establishing government by human wisdom, and eave It to chance, war, or conquest [ therefore beg leave to move that lenceforth prayers, imploring the aslistance of heaven and its blessing on >ur deliberations, be held in this aslembly every morning before we proved to business.?Ben Franklin, in ?*1 1700 ^UII veilliuu, if oa. X** A good sized turtle gives eighty pounds of tortoise shell.