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l. M. Giiws govs,PtUuhanTj $ ^amilg gticsjiapti;: <j[or th? {promotion of th< political, Social, ^gritultura! and ffommerciat Interests of th< jpeopt*. [ established 1855. YORKVILLE, 8. C., FRIDAY, JULY 21, 1911. NO. 58. fwmn $ ===== ~ BY THOM. "ySSfr Copyright, 1911, b Pub. by Doubladay, mmmmn BOOK II?THE ROOT. CHAPTER XX. Tha Parting of tha Ways. The two weeks which followed the Blvens bail, were the happiest Harriet Woodman had known since Nan's shadow had fallen across her life, i Every moment was crowded with the ; work of preparing for her trip, except i the hours she could not refuse Stuart, ; who had suddenly waked to the fact that something beautiful was going out i of his life. Every day he asked her i to play and sing for him or go for one of their rambles over the hills. They i talked but little. He simply loved to i be alone with her. Harriet watched him with keen joy, ' and deep in her heart a secret hope i began to slowly grow. i The day she sailed he refused to go 1 with her to the pier. "Why Jim, you must come with me!" i she protested. < "No, I can't little pal. Sit down at I your piano now and sing my favorite I songs and I'll say goodbye here." < "But why?" she pleaded. I "I'm not quite sure how I would behave in public." < Without a word she took off her gloves, sat down at the piano and sung ? in low tones of melting tenderness. < When the last note died away, he rose i quietly, came to her side, and took her .< hand. i "I never knew, little girl, how my < life has grown Into yours until I'm about to lose you." 1 "But you're not going to lose me. Remember I'm coming back to sing for i you before thousands. And I'm going to make you proud of me." "I couldn't know how deeply and i tenderly I love you, child, until this \ moment when I'm about to say good- < bye." < The little figure was very still. Her eyes drooped and her lips tremoiea pathetically. She knew that he had said too much to mean a great deal. He had spoken of his love for her as a "child," when long ago the child had grown into the tragic figure of a woman who had learned to wait and sulTer in silence. She tried to speak and her voice failed. Her hand began to tremble in his. She turned and faced him with a smile, pressing his hand. The cab was at the door and her father calling from below. "Goodbye, Jim," she said tenderly. "Goodbye to the dearest little chum God ever sent to cheer a lonely unhappy man's soul." A sob stilled his voice and she turned her face away to hide her tears. He still clung to her hand. "It's been a long time," he said hestatingly, "since you've kissed me, girlie; Just one for remembrance!" With a quick movement she drew her hand away and started with a laugh toward the door. "No, Jim, I'm afraid I'm getting too Old ior irial nuw. , He made no reply but stepped to her side and grasped her hand. "Then again, goodbye." "Goodbye." He pressed her hand to his lips. The slender body quivered and her face flushed scarlet. She hurried down the steps to the caJa, turned and threw him a kiss. He watched the cab roll down Fourth street toward the pier while a great wave of loneliness overwhelmed him. He slowly climbed the stairs toward his room, and passed the door of Harriet's on the way. It was open and he looked in expecting her to appear suddenly before him with a smile on her serene little face. He noted how neat and tidy she had left her nest; not a sign of confusion, the floor swept clean, everything in its place and the bed made with scrupulous care. The whole place breathed the perfume of her sunny character. On the mantel he saw a love letter Bhe had written to her father. "How thoughtful of the little daring." he exclaimed. "God knows he'll ] need it tonight." He hurried to his own room with the hope that she might have left one for him. He searched his mantel and bureau in vain and had just given up with a sigh when his eyes rested on a 1 iku nlH.fashlnncil i at u lasicncu u? c? iiiv w.m , grate in the fire place. His hand trembled as he read it: , "Dear Jim: "I shall miss you dreadfully, in the strange world beyond the seas. When you sit here and look into your fire I hope you'll see the face of your little , pal in the picture sometimes. "Harriet." He kissed the card and placed it in his pocket book. At night the doctor was not at home. He rapped on his door next morning and got no answer. The girl said he had spent the night out?she didn't know where. As Stuart was about to leave for his office the doctor entered. His bloodshot eyes were sunken deep behind his brows, his face haggard and his shoulders drooped. Stuart knew he had tramped the streets all night in a stu por Ol nopeiess misery. He stared at the young lawyer as if he didn't recognize him and then said feebly: "Don't go yet, my boy, wait a few moments. I Just want to know that you're here." Stuart took his outstretched hand and led him into the library. "I know why you tramped the streets: the old house is very lonely." The father placed his hand on his head, exclaiming: "I never knew what loneliness meant before!" The big hand fell In a gesture of despair. "It's dark and cold, I'm slipping down into a bottomless pit. There's not a soul in heaven or earth or hell to whom I can cry for help or pity." Stuart pressed his hand. "I understand. I'm younger than you. doctor, but I too, have walked that way, the via dolorosa alone." The older man glared at him with a wild look in his eyes. ^ofWLI = $ AS DIXON y Thomas Dixon. "But you don't understand; that's what's the matter, and I can't tell you. I'm alone, I tell you, alone in a world of cold and darkness." "No,, no," Stuart Interrupted soothingly. "You're just all in; you must go to bed and sleep. Go at once, and you'll find something to cheer you in the little girl's room, a love letter for you." "Yes," he asked, the light slowly returning to his eyes, "a love letter from my baby?" "I saw It there after she left. Read It and go to sleep. I'll see you tonight." "Yes, yes, of course, my boy, that's what's the matter with me. I'm just ill in for the lack of sleep. I've been raving half the time, I think. I'll go to bed at once." When Stuart returned early from his work in the afternoon he found a group >f forlorn women and children standing beside the stoop. A pale, elfishlooking boy of ten, whose face appear?d to be five years older, sat on the ower step crying. "What's the matter, kiddie?" he ask*d kindly. "I wants de doctor?me mudder's sick. She'll croak before mornln' ef he Jon't come?dey all want him." He waved his little dirty hi?vd toward the "Uo n (n't o rnnnH n/l more for a week. The goil says we :an't see him, he's sleep." "I'll tell him you're here. The doc:or's been ill himself. The boy rose quickly and doffed his ragged cap. "Tank ye, boss." He urged the doctor to go at once to see his patients. The work he loved ivould restore his spirits. He was lumfounded at the answer he received. "Tell them to go away," he paid with i frown. "I can't see them today. I nay never be able to see them again." "Come, come, doctor, pull yourself ogether and go. I'll go with you. It's he best medicine you can take." He answered angrily: "No, no! I'm in no mood to work. [ couldn't help them. I'd poison and till them all, feeling as I do today. A physician can't heal the sick unless here's healing in his own soul: I'd pring death not life into their homes, rell them to go away!" Stuart emptied his pockets of all the noney he had in a desperate effort to preak their disappointment. "The doctor's too ill to see you, now," le explained. "He sent this money for ,-ou and hopes it will help you over :he worst until he can come." He divided the money among them ind they looked at it with dull disappointment. They were glad to get it, rmt what thev needed more than the money was the hope and strength of :heir friend's presence. They left with jragging feet and Stuart returned to the doctor's room determined not to leave until he knew the secret of his collapse. From the haggard face and feverish syes he knew he hadn't slept yet. He bad gotten up at one o'clock and dressed. The lunch which the maid had brought to his room was on the table by his bed. untouched. The young lawyer softly closed the door and sat down. The older man ?azed at him in a dull stupor. "Doctor," Stuart began gently. "I've known you for about fifteen years. You're the only father I've had in this big town, and you've been a good one. You've been acting strangely for the past two weeks. You're in trouble." "The greatest trouble that can come to any human soul," was the bitter answer. "Haven't I won the right to your confidence and friendship in such an hour?" "My trouble, boy, is beyond the help of friends." "Nonsense" Stuart answered cheerfully. "Shake off the blues. What's wrong? Do you need money?" The doctor broke into a discordant laugh. "No. I've just sent Harriet abroad. I've some money laid away that will last a year or two until she is earning a good salary. What gave you the idea?" The last question he asked with sudden sharp energy. "Actions that indicate a strain greater than you can bear." "No, you're mistaken," he answered roughly. "I can bear it all right." He paused and his eyes stared at the ceiling as he groaned: "I've got to bear It: what's the use to whine?" Stuart stepped close and slipped his arm about the stalwart figure. His voice was tender with a man's deep feeling. "Come, doctor, you're not fooling me. I've known you too long. There's only one man on earth for whom I'd do as much as I would for you?my own gray-haired father down south. You've been everything to me one man could be to another during the past fifteen years. You have given me a home, the love of a big tender heart, and the wise counsel of tried friendship. If there's anything that I have and you need, it's yours before you ask it, to the last dollar I possess. Come now?tell me what's the trouble?" Stuart could feel the big form sway and tremble under the stress of over**. ? ' ??wl Va 1?t orw? nroaa. w uviiiiiug rmuiiuii, anu mo ?*? ? k* ed a little closer. And then the tension suddenly broke. The doctor sank into a chair and looked up with a helpless stare. "Yes, Jim. I will?I'll?tell?you." He gasped and choked, paused, pulled himself together and cried: "I must tell somebody or jump out of that window and dash my brains out!" When the paroxysm of emotion had spent itself, he drew a deep sigh and began to speak in broken accents. "I was in trouble for money, my boy, in the deepest trouble." "And you didn't let me know!" Stuart interrupted reproachfully. "How could I? I was proud and sen sitive. I had taught you high ideals. How could the teacher come to his pupil and say, Tve failed.' My theories were beautiful, but they don't work in life. And so I struggled on until I waked one day to find that I was getting old, that I had gone to fight other men's battles and had left my loved one at home to perish. The first hideous sense of failure crept over me and paralyzed soul and body with fear. I was becoming a pauper, i You see I had always believed that a < man who poured out his life for others I could not fail. And then I?who had given, given, given, always given my time, my money, my soul, and body? waked to find that I was sucked dry, that I was played out, that I was bankrupt in money, bankrupt in life! The great love I had borne the world suddenly grew faint under the sense of loneliness and failure. And I gave up. I withdrew my suit and determined to throw myself on the generosity of the man who owed his wealth and power to the start I had given him, the man who destroyed my business and wrecked my futuue. He had made me two offers that seemed generous when I recalled them. I judged his character by my own and I went to his house the night of that ball without invitation." The doctor's voice broke and he paused. And then with the tears streaming down his cheeks unchecked, *-?? lUVI imrnntrnlno/l I nis accents uiunrn mm Uiiicoiiaiiivu sobs he told the story of his meeting i with Blvens, of his abject pleading i when he had thrown pride to the winds, of the cruel and brutal taunts, I and the last beastly Insult when the millionaire boasted of his squandering t of millions and rejoiced that he could j flaunt this In the face of his suffering and humiliation. "And then, boy," the broken man t moaned, "he left me with a sneer and I told me to stroll over his palace and j enjoy the evening. That I would find his wife wearing a pearl necklace which c cost a half million and jeweled slip- i pers worth enough to finish my baby's c education, but that he would see us both to the bottom of hell before I could have one penny." Again the doctor's voice sank into a strangling sob. When he lifted his t head his eyes were glittering with a , strange light. t "And then," he went on with qulv- f erlng voice, "I began to see things red. The lust of blood was beating , in every stroke of my heart. In vivid dashes of blasphemous fury I saw life j from a new point of view. I began t to ask where God lived that such s things could be in his world. I saw the bruised bodies of my fellow beings dung before such men as Bivens and ground to dust. I saw the lies that } pass for truth, the low fights for gain f at the cost of blood and tears, tne deeds that laugh at shame and honor, and gloating over It all the brutal glo^y of success. I determined to kill the little wretch as I would stamp on a snake. And then I saw my baby standing near. My hand grew limp. I felt that 1 must save her first and then die if need be. I felt for the first time the cunning of the elemental man, the force that gave him food and shelter for himself and babies before the laws of property had come to rule the world. 1 reached out my hand and took by cunning what belonged to me by right." Again he paused and looked into Stuart's face with a hopeless stare. "I?stole?a?case?of?Jewels!" Stuart sprang to his feet with an exclamation of horror. "You?did?what!" "Yes," the doctor went on hoarsely. "I stole a case of his Jewels, and sent my girl abroad. I'm going to plead guilty now and go to prison. I shall never again lift my head in the hauntB of men." Stuart sobbed in anguish. "You see, boy, I failed when put to the test. It doesn't make any difference about my reputation. Character only counts, and I'm a thief." "Shut up!" Stuart cried fiercely, seizing his arm. "Don't say that again and don't talk so loudly. Whatever you did, you were insane when y$u did it." "No, I had -Just failed," the older man insisted in dull tones, "failed in all save one thing. I've done that, at least. And I didn't forget my honor. I r?ed it for my purpose. I did as old Paliss.v the great mad potter. To get the heat required to perfect his greatest work of art, you know, he broke the last piece of furniture in his hous-> and thrust it into his furnace. So I threw my honor into the flames of hell to save my little girl's voice. Mavhe it was a mistake. I don't know. I couldn't think then. I only know now that life is impossible any more, and I'm ready to go. You can send me to prison at once, Jim, I'd rather you would do it, for I know that you love me and at least no unkind word will fall from your lips before I receive my sentence. I'll make no fight. I'm glad I don't have to say all this to a stranger. Yon can send me up the river at once. I'm glad you are the district attorney." "But I'm not. I resigned my office this morning." "Resigned?" The doctor asked in dazed surprise. "Yes, to go into business for myself. I had only another month to serve. You're not going to prison if I can help it." "But I don't want you to help it. It's the only place to go now?you luiv I pan't Hi*#* urifh mvsnlf anv t more! Besides I'm old and played out; the world don't need me any longer." "Well, I need you," Stuart broke in, | "and you're not going to give up this | fight as long as I'm here." I "I'm a failure; it's no use." I "But you've forgotten some things," the younger man said tenderly. ( "You've helped to make my life what i it is?you haven't failed in that. You ( gave your blood to your country when ] she needed it?you didn't fail In that. 1 You have forgotten the thousands you i have helped, the hope and cheer and inspiration that passed into their lives j through yours. Failure sometimes ( means success. The greatest failure of all the ages perhaps was Jesus ] Christ. Deserted and denied by his own disciples, scoffed at, spit on and , beaten by his enemies, crucified be- , tween two thieves, crying in anguish and despair to the God who had forsaken him; yet this friendless crucified i peasant who failed, has conquered the | world at last." I Stuart paused and looked at the older man sharply. "Are you listening, doctor?" he asked, seizing his arm. "Did you hear what I just said to you?" He turned his head stupidly. "Hear what? No, I can't hear anything, Jim, except a devil that follows me everywhere, day and night, and whispers In my ear?'thief! thief!' It's no use. I'm done." "Well I'm not done. I've Just begun. You are not going to give up and you're not going to prison. We'll go to Bivens's house tonight. We'll tell him the truth. We'll return the value of his i Jewels. I'll get the money to make good what you owe him?" hlB voice broke. "Oh, why, why, why didn't you let me know; but what's the use to ask, It's done now!" "Yes, it's done and it can't be un- i ione," the older man interrupted hopelessly. ' "But it can and it will be undone. I've Influence with Bivens. He'll drop | ihe matter and no one on earth will snow save we three. You can go on ivlth your work among the poor and I'll ielp you." 1 "But you don't understand, Jim," the 1 aroken man protested, feebly. "I tell < rou I've given up. I can't take your i noney, I can't pay. I tell you I've jlven up. I can't take your money. 1 i can't bay It back." "You can pay It back, too, If you < ike. Harriet will be earning thousands of dollars in a few years. Her success is sure." I A faint smile lighted the father's I face. < "Her success is sure, isn't It?" he isked with the eagerness of a child. \nd then the smile slowly faded. "But I shall not be here to see it." i I t*a j uu wilt. i in t umiiiiB ;uui iffairs now, and you've got to do wbat [ say. Get ready. We are going to i lee Bivens." "I'll do it if you Bay so, boy," the < loetor answered feebly, "but it's no ise. He'll prosecute me to the limit >f the law." j "He'll do nothing of the kind." "He will?I know him." ** I Bivens refused point blank at first ' o see Woodman and ordered his ser- 1 'ant to put him out of the house and isked Stuart to remain for a confer- ' >nce. ' Stuart drew from his case a card and vrote a message to Nan. "Imperative that I see Cal at once ' n the presence of my friend on a 1 natter of grave Importance. Please 3 lend him down. He is stubborn." 1 He handed it to the servant and said: "Take that to Mrs. Bivens." Bivens came in a few minutes, shook 1 lands cordially with Stuart and ignor- 1 'd Woodman. ' "I want to see you alone with the loctor," the young lawyer began, 'where we cannot possibly be over- 3 leard." ' The financier's keen eyes looked ( >lercingly from one to the other, and te said curtly: 1 "I have nothing to say to this man, >ut for your sake, all right. Come up o the library." Once in the room and the door closed he doctor sank listlessly into a chair, < leeing nothing, hearing nothing. His leep, sunken, bloodshot eyes were urned within. The outer world no j onger made any impression. Stuart plunged at once into his misilon. ( "Cal, you and I have been friends i linee boyhood. I'm going to ask my * irst favor of you tonight." "For yourself, all right; you've got ] he answer before you ask it." < "We can't separate our lives from 1 >ur friends, and I owe much in mine o the man for whom I'm going to tpeak." "If you've come to ask me to settle vlth old Woodman for any imaginary lalm he has, you've wasting your preath. I won't hear it. So cut it!" Bivens spoke with quick fierce enerry. His words fell sharp and metallic. "I'm not asking you to settle any old maginary claim," the young lawyer vent on rapidly, "but a new one that can only appeal to the best that's in ,'ou." "A new one?" Bivens cried in surprise. "Yes. I needn't recall what passed petween you and the doctor the night pf the ball." "No, I've quite a clear recollection pf it," Bivens answered grimly. "Let it be enough to say that the :orture you inflicted and the sights he jaw in your house drove him insane, hungry, wretched, in despair over his misfortunes and the promise he had jiven his daughter, whom he loved better than life, in a moment of madness he took a case of your Jewels." "He took that case of Jewels?" Bivens cried with excitement. "Yes." The little financier broke into a peal pf laughter, walked over to the chair vhere the doctor sat, thrust his hands nto his pockets and continued to augh. "So, that's what you meant by laughng and sneering in my face as you eft that night, you d?d old hypocrite!" Stuart suddenly gripped Bivens and jpun him around in his tracks. "That will do now! The doctor is tny friend. He's an old broken man tonight and he's under my protection. He came here at my suggestion and against his protest. I won't stand for this." "I'll say what I please to a thief." j "Not this one." Stuart faced the little dark man with j a dangerous gleam in his eye. The two men glared at each other for a ( moment and Blvens threw up his ! hands in a gesture of disgust. "Well, what did you come for? To , ask me to give him a pension for rob- ] bing me of a case of jewels? I've ac- 1 cused every drunken servant In the ] house of the act. Shall I send one of them to the penitentiary and give the i real thief a medal for his skill?" "I only ask that you allow me to , return the value of your jewels and j drop the whole affair." Blvens's eyes narrowed and his j mouth tightened viciously. , "Can the district attorney of the i ?ounty of New York compound a felony ?" "I resigned my office this morning." Bivens tried to seize Stuart's hand, j forgetting for a moment the jewels in j the bigger announcement which meant , the acceptance of his offer. He spoke in low excited tones. "Congratulations!" Stuart waved aside the extended hand with a gesture of annoyance. "You'll drop this case, of course, at my request?" Blvens looked at the bowed figure crouching in forlorn indifference before him with a smile and replied quickly: "I will not." "I told you I'd make good the amount tomorrow morning." "What the devil do you suppose I want witn your money? Five tnousand dollars is no more to me than Ave cents to the average man." He paused, laughed and again stared at the bowed figure. "I've waited a long time, old man, but I've got you where I want you now." The doctor never lifted his head moved a muscle. His eyes were fixed In a senseless stare. Only the body was present. The soul was gone. "I say I've got you now!" Blvens repeated angrily. "Did you hear me?" Stuart spoke in low tones: "My God, Cal, can't you see." "Five thousand!" Bivens cried exultantly? "It's too easy! The day I see him in a suit of stripes?I've never done such a thing?but I'm going to take a day off and get drunk." "You are not going to prosecute him?" Stuart asked Incredulously. "As soon as I can telephone for an Dfficer." "You don't mean It?" "Don't I?" The little man spoke tierce, his black eyes glowing, his nanas iremDiing as mey openeu miu closed aa an eagle's claws. "Look here, Cal." 'It's no use Jim, this is my affair." "You've asked me to share your affairs." "Not this one." "Then to hell with you and all your iffairs! I'll fight you to the last ditch" ?Stuart's words rang with fierce decision. Blvens looked at him In amazement. "What! For this old fool you'd relect my offer?" "Yes." "It's a Joke! I see you doing It. Defend him If you like. I'll have good lawyers. I'll enjoy the little scrap. A fight between us In public Just now tvlll be all the better for my first big plans. I'll send him to Sing Sing If It costs me a million!" Stuart lifted the doctor from his teat and faced Blvens with a look of lefiance. "You needn't trouble for a (varrant. He pleads guilty. Your lawyers can fix the day for his septence ind I want you to be there." "I'll be there, don't you worry!" "And Blvens, as you're a good church member, you might read over that passage of scripture: 'Vengeance is nine, I will repay salth the Lord?'" "Indeed!" "Yes, I'm going to show you that nii'pn nnt Aimi^htv God though you ire the possessor of a hundred million lollars." "I'll be present at the demonstration, Jim. Good night!" \ (To Be Continued.) ?i ?' WATERLOO OF THT YAQUI8. Slash With John Hayes Hammond Meana Their Finish. "Several hundred Yaqul Indians are preparing to go on the warpath against Vladero, their former commander in the revolt against Diaz, because they have not been given lands in the state )f Sonora, promised to them before t'ney Joined in the attack on the Federals. "The lands promised to the Indians ire now held by John Hayes Hammond, Henry W. Tait and New York and California associates. Large tracts have already been sold to innocent purchasers, the Indians say. "The Yaquis grievance is that these ands, comprising more than 600,000 icres, were taken from them unlawfully by the Diaz government, and that the titles held by Hammond, Taft and their associates are void." The Yaqui Indians of Mexico against whom more or less nearly white men aave waged a rather unsuccessful war for about three centures, are a people for whom a great many observers have a deep sympathy. They have looked civilization over and will have lone of it. According to a statement af one of their leaders recently they would rather be killed by Mexicans than Mexicanized. To this decision they may, of course, have been moved partly by the reflection during the progress of their pleasure of killing a considerable number of Mexicans, while there would be no consolation >f this kind of incident to their assimilation. The Yaquis are described by some explorers as being rather good Indians, when let alone, but cherishing in eagerness to be let alone that sometimes expresses itself In the form of punitive expeditions against the medilesome that occupy long periods ind extend over wide areas. They are conspicuous for their powers of resistance as a people, for their vigor and virility as individuals, and because of the passionate tenacity with which they cling to the theory that it is more blessed to lie toes-upward with unseetnwarA th? stars than Ilia cjra iui ireu to become addicted to the use of the union suit, the hot-water bottle, the proprietary headache cure, the coldstorage eggs, the boiled shirt, the iridescent sock and the creased pantaloon of an effete civilization. If the Yaquis have come at last to slash with John Hays Hammond and lis associates their Jig is up. All of us on this side of the line know that capital Is more terrible than an army with banners, and especially an army of Mexicans. Even in this country, where we're not merely "pore benighted heathen, but damn good fightin' men," Mr. Hammond and gentlemen of his clan and class usually get what ihey want, and their wants are limited by their imagination only.?Louisville Courier Journal. The Kangaroo's Defense.?In the kangaroo hunts of Australia capture Is sufficiently easy, b?t sometimes the] kangaroo makes an original defense. If possible the kangaroo directs his flight toward a river. If he reaches it he enters, and, thanks to his great height, he is able to go on foot to a depth where the dogs are oongea 10 swim. There he plants himself on his two hind legs and his tall and, up to his shoulders In the water, awaits the arrival of the pack. With his forepaws he seizes by the head the first dog that approaches, and as he Is more solidly balanced than his assailant he holds the dog's nose beneath the water as long as he can. Unless a second dog speedily comes to the rescue the first one Is inevitably drowned. If a companion arrives and 3ets him free he is glad to regain the bank as quickly as possible. A strong and courageous old kangaroo will hold his own against twenty or thirty dogs, drowning some and frightnlng athers, and the hunter is obliged to Intervene with a bullet.?New York Press. China's Exports of Tin?Exports of tin from China, in which the United States is materially Interested, are likely to be largely increased, says a consular report. Practically all the tin mines of the country are in Yunnan province, the product being exported almost entirely through HongKong. piscfllanrous fading. FIGHT CIVIL WAR OVER AGAIN. Further Account of Williams-Hayburn Clash. The Washington Post contains the following detailed account of the Wtlllams-Heyburn clash: The senate for two hours discussed, and then killed, a resolution reported by Its recent patronage committee abolishing five places that somebody thought were filled by superannuated I pmnlnvpM. who srave no adeauate ser vice for the pay they received. The discussion was heated at times, particularly when Mr. Heyburn undertook to fight the civil war over again, and aroused the anger and resentment of John Sharp Williams. A characterization of the Confederacy as an "Infamous cause" by Mr. Heyburn brought a bitter rebuke from the Mlssisslpplan. "As the son of a man who gladly gave his life to a cause that he thought was right, I am not willing to hear a civilized man in this twentieth century call it an infamous cause," said Mr. Williams. "But for the parliamentary rules that restrain me, I would have a few words to say about the kind of human being in whose heart such thought can exist." Of the five places sought to be abolished, one was held by "Jim" Jones, 82-year-old negro who had been Jefferson Davis's bodyguard. He is on the senate's pay roll as a laborer, but has not done any work for two years. A colored messenger is in the same category. The three other case3 were those of men who were regularly employed, one of them in an expert capacity, who has been identified with the senate for upward of forty years. It was In connection with "Jim" Jones' case that John Sharp Williams sought to reverse the action of the day before when the resolution was agreed pro forma "I do not know," said Mr. Williams, "that I have anything to urge in his behalf except a sentiment. Among all of the magnificent attributes of the human race I think Tom Carlyle was right in saying that loyalty was the greatest of them all?loyalty to a country, to a state, to a cause, to a leader, to a man, loyalty to something. It Is not peculiarly one of our virtues. This old darky possessed in a very high degree. He is very old now, I believe pretty nearly eighty years of age. "They say that he has done no work for about two years, or vqry little. I have no doubt that Is true. But, Mr. President, you do not always compensate by present service for what you are receiving. If character and past services cannot help up superlluity to be credited to present service in old age, sometimes the world would be rather a bad place to live In. Here Is, for example, the senator from Maine, (Mr. Frye,) and in my time I have known many more. Who Is there who would have called upon Morgan or Pettus, of Alabama, or the senator from Maine, or anybody else, to resign because they could not render each day a present service for a present emolument? "Mr. President, this old darky was! loyal as a slave to Jefferson Davis of mtaaicrcinni That lovaltv mieht have been accounted for by the fact that It may be It was the part of policy of the slave's position. But when freedom j came he was loyal still, loyal to the man who had been his master, who had never said a cross word to him or laid upon him a blow. He followed him voluntarily as his body guard. He went with him to Fort Monroe. He went into the cell there with him, and when, old, emaciated, broken down by four years of nervous tension and public service, the old master was seized and shackled, this old darky was there. ' "A great many of us In Mississippi and throughout the south feel a debt *>f gratitude to this old darky. I cannot urge any logical reasons for what I am asking upon the ground of his being able to render a quid pro quo. It may be that he will never be able to render efficient service. But, I repeat, is It not true that there are others, and many others, In the same fix? And If that be true, then I have a right, I think, to go out of facts a little bit and appeal to historical sentiment." Mr. Penrose said he was In full sym-| pathy with Mr. Williams, and Intended to vote for his motion. "It seems to me," said Mr. Penrose, J "that the proposition has got down now to merely one of the cheese-paring variety. The senate roll Is not the only roll of the government where superannuated employees are retained. and I take It that no one, whether out of kindness of heart or an appreciation of past services, would desire to be brutal in the treatment of superannuated employees." FACTS ABOUT THE GULF STREAM Which Is Said to Be Going Up the Mississippi River. Some scientific Interest has been aroused In the fact as announced upon the basis of thermometric tests that the hot water of the Qulf stream is flowing up the channel of the Mississippi river, and that while temperatures of 88 degrees were found outside in the sea, inside the passes the water was as warm as 84 degrees, and even In front of the city an average of 81 was observed. The theory of the existence and operation of the Gulf stream is thut it has its beginning in the Bight of Benin. a great bay on the west coast of equatorial Africa, where there is a mighty eddy caused by the blowing of the winds from the south and west against the coast. The current being started moves 10 me eaaiwaiu aiuunu the northeast coast of South America and through the Caribbean sea and the Yucatan pass into the Gulf of Mexico, where after circling around from southwestward to northeastward and southeast It flows out, through the Florida pass into the Atlantic ocean. Of course not all of the tremendous current that flows out of the Gulf of Guinea under the equator enters our Mexican seas, for a great part Is dlveited northward among the passes between the Islands of the West Indian archipelago, but we get enough of it to make its temperature and current Important Items to the navigators In our seas. It is strange that the warm waters of the stream should be able to force their way up the Mississippi river against Its current, which often has a four to five-mile velocity, but the river Is low Just now and doubtless makes little resistance to the warm water, which, being lighter, floats oi.ni-u tho r?r,Mf>r watpr of the river. Whether a new state of things has been discovered In these relations of the river water to that of the sea. or a commonplace and ordinary occurrence has not been previously noticed, cannot be stated here, but it is claimed by geologists that In a time far back in the past the Gulf stream flowed up the Mississippi river, forcing its water far into the Arctic sea, and so warming up Alaska and Siberia that the ancient mastodons or hairy elephants could subsist there, and that vegetation suited for their sustenance flourished there until by some chance in the climatic cycle that region was locked In ice and the dead elephants found there in nature's cold storage had been preserved through unspeakable ages. There is a theory among the clim atologlsts that changes of climate occur periodically or in successions of ages, but that however long the period they recur In routine and orderly succession. There are no valid grounds for any theory that the Gulf stream Is starting again on its way northward through the Mississippi valley because great ' alterations in the respective levels of land and sea would be required, nevertheless speculation on the mechanism and operation of the moving forces of the system of our world Is ] not without interest. I For instance, our changs of season , are uue iu nie uiuiiiiauuii ui uuuquity of the axis of our earth to the axis of the sun, or more properly to the plane of the sun's equator. If the earth's equator and the sun's equator were in the same place, and their axes of revolution weie parallel, the sun would shine on our globe equally from pole to pole. Half the earth would be fully illuminated and the other half in shadow every twenty-four hours, and day and night would be of the same duration everywhere as at the equator. There would be no time when the north end of the earth would be turned away from the sun for six months while the south end was enjoying light and warmth and no alternation of these situations, so that in a word we would have day and night, but no summer and winter. The seasons are caused by the fact that the axis of revolution of our globe, instead of being parallel to that of the sun. is Inclined to or from it at an angle of twenty-three and one-half degrees. The result is that for six months the north end of the earth is turned to the sun and is illuminated by it. and for the next six months the north end is turned away from it and is left largely in the cold and darkness. But suppose the axis of our earth by some mysterious force was turned at right angles to the sun's axis. Then the poles would be relatively where the equator Is, and the equator where the poles are. Then the polar regions would become tropical and the tropica be buried in snow and ice. The Hindoo cosmogony tells of such a time at the beginning of the Kali Tuga, or age of heat. Such changes of relative position might take place slowly without any violent destructive effects upon the population of our plar.et, but any sudden change would produce violent convulsion in both land and sea. These speculations have given material for much theorizing by astronomers who have sought to prop up their conclusions with mountains of figures. With the hope that all such changes will be gradual and attended by an violent telluric disturbances, the Picayune can welcome them for the benefit of future generations.?New Or- ( leans Picayune. TRADING WITH E8KIM08. Huskies Now Damand Good Pricss For ' Their Curios. At Fort McPherson, the most northerly fur trading post In Canada, this amusing incident occurred last sum mer. A lady tourist, who was making ' a collection of native curios, had provided herself before leaving civilization with a small outfit of beads, needles etc., In the hope of bartering ' them to good advantage with the aboriginals. Seeing some Ivory carvings in a "husky" tent this lady Intimated that she wished to acquire them, and offered in exchange first a few packages of needles and then some beads, both of which were inspected and decorously handed back to her with a shake of the head. After some talking the Eskimo said he would only sell for a pipe and some tobacco. This looked easy, as the curios were cheap at $6 to $7, and i the lady went to the Hudson Bay company's store and bought $1 worth of , tobacco and a fifty cent pipe. These ; were handed to the "husky," who courteously looked them over, and ' then handing the pipe back remark- { ed: "Tobacco good; pipe no damn I good." The upshot was that the lady ' had to invest $5 in a pipe to obtain 1 the coveted curios. The most sought for article of Es- 1 klmos manufacture is the ivory j crlbbage board, made out of a walrus tusk. These make both useful artl- i cles and handsome ornaments. The sides and ends are usually covered with carvings of wild animals, such as j walruses, whales, foxes, wolves, etc., i and this work is in many cases extremely well executed. A few years ago these crlbbage boards could be bought for a comparniltmlir tritriol a li m Hilt llAtt' AWlnC to a number of tourists having paid ab- | surd figures for them, the price has mounted to an almost prohibitive figure, from 150 to $100 being asked for almost any specimen, while for an < unusually well carved board an Eskimos will not accept less than $125. Other sought after articles produc- ' ed by the "huskies" are bead and i shell earrings, soapstone candlesticks, | sealing spears, ivory fishhooks and sinkers, and patchwork mats manufactured from a mixture of splices of ' wild goat, seal and deerskins, sewn i together in a regular and not unbeau- ( tiful pattern. The trade with the Eskimo is con- ' ducted on somewhat different lines to that with the Indians. For a number < of years past whaling schooners hail- , ing from San Francisco, have made ] their winter quarters at Herschel Is- ! land, so as to be ready to commence hunting these valuable mammals as ( soon as open water appears. Their . crews have dealt largely with the Eskimos in furs and curios, paying < small prices and in return selling them ^ flour, bacon, tea, etc., for considerably less than the mere cost of transport- , Ing such articles Into the country by the McKenzie river route. However, the schooner owners, finding that but . little of the profit accruing from the ' transactions found Its way into their pockets, have largely put a stop to . the carrying of goous for trading pur- { poses. As a result a considerable number of the Eskimo make their way by first J open water from Herschel Island and the country east of the McKenzie river delta to the trading posts on the e lower river. On arrival they barter ,v their furs for whatever pleases them, and then something special?a sewing machine, steam tug or what not? t catches a husky's eye, and he at once wishes to purchase it. If it Is not for sale he at once orders one like It to be brought in next year. This the trader interested agrees to accomplish, and the question of price then comes up. Now the price is not put to the native In dollars, as that would not Involve a sufficiently remunerative transaction. Instead the trader says?in laklng an order for a phonograph, for Instance: "You must bring me five lynx skins, twenty white foxes and two mink." "Very good." replies the husky, and the deal Is closed. He arrives at the post the following summer with the pelts called for. and he is an angry man If his phonograph has not turned up. A short time ago an Eskimo purchased a steam tug, which he is now an adept In operating, and was charged therefore 100 white foxes, two No. 1 silver foxes, thirty lynx and fifty mink. As the vessel cost but $1,200 at the point where sold, the transaction was by no means unprofitable.? St. Paul Pioneer Press. Another Story.?"What did you do when your husband told you the old, old story?" "I told him to shut up before he was half through!" "Why. j what a funny way to reply to a confession of love!" "Oh, is that what you mean? I thought you meant the story he told last night when he came ' home from a time with the boys." TALK WITH LA FOLLETTE. Wisconsin Senator Expresses Opinion* On National Politic*. "Aldrlch was a great manager, though a poor speaker," continued Senator La Follette puffing at his pipe writes Charles Johnston in Harper's Weekly. "His handling of the traction franchise in Rhode Island, his manipulation of the Rhode Island legislature In which eleven per cent of the voters controlled the election of (J. S. senator, were of a piece wnir his senate leadership as chairman of the finance committee and his late manipulation of the Payne-Aldrlch tariff. His character, his life, his relations with the Rockefellers and big business generally, led him in the wme direction." "How about Senator Hale?" "He," Senator La Follette replied, "like the rest of the Old Quard, belongs to a period of our national life that is drawing to a close, though we a>re still far from being clear of Its dangers. Hale was the heavy dragoon of the Old Guard, a grim, resolute, able man, a master of senate routine, and thoroughly determined to get, for his class, the maximum of results in legislation." "Is the passing of the Old Guard the guarantee of a new order?" I asked. " "You must not flatter yourself that because Aldrich and Hale are out the things they stood for are gone toe," Senator La Follette earnestly replied. "On the contrary, they continue, and this is the day of especial danger just as we are beginning to win. The hardest fighting is all ahead. The forces of organized selfishness are on the alert to take advantage of any overconfidence on our part. "How about Senator Penrose, who succeeds Senator Aldrich as chairman of the committee on finance? He Is titular leader of the senate, is he not?" "He is the worst?or the best?type of the organization senator; relentlessly crushes where he has the power, compromises whenever necessary and never breaks his word to friend or enemy. He has not yet cranked up his machine, and he is allowing Gallinger, Crane, 'Lodge and others to sit at the wheel in turn. But if anybody thinks Penrose doesn't know that the mantle slipped from Aldrich's shoulders on to his, he has another guess. "No, the old Guard is still with us; scotched, not killed. And it has as many lives as the proverbial cat, because the forces that give It life and feed It are so enormously strong." THE POWER OF THE GOVERNOR. In tha Stats of 8outh Carolina He Is the Whds Thing. When Important Issues were at stake, during campaigns, we have frequently heard the expression. "The governor cannot do anything without the legislature. That body must be In sympathy with him or his hands are tied. He Is only an executive and cannot help himself." We always received this statement with a grain of salt, but we are mightily convinced now that it is a great mistake. The governor has a great deal of power, and he can do things that many a man never dreamed that he could do. Indeed, in South Carolina he is the whole thing. Were proof of this statement asked for, It could be easily furnished. Our governor has defied the supreme court, and we have not been convinced yet that he has not had his own way in spite of what the court has had to say. It has rendered some kind of decisions, but the giovernor Is still in the saddle, and ready to do as he pleases. He has declared most positively that he would do as he pleased in spite of all the mandamuses that can be Issued. This ought to be enough to show the extent of his power, but there is more. He has dismissed the pardon board, fired the dispensary commission, made appointments regardless of the law, and the suggestions of the people, opened the doors of the penitentiary. fired a college president, cut out contracts for state buildings, practically dismissed the state house commission, played Jack generally and tU.-A KA >/% rk9% ooHh liinc seems iu uc iiw j;un?i vu vmm* to stay his hands. Never tell us again that the governor cannot do a great deal, that his power is limited. There must be radical changes made in the constitution before we can accept any such statement.?Greenwood Journal. THE WORLD'S ARMIES. Switzerland Has Most Soldiers in Proportion to Population. The eighteen countries of South and Central America and Mexico, with a population of 63,924,859 people, have regular armies amounting to 188,964 meu, or one soldier to every 298 inhabitants, says the Los Angeles Times. The United States of America had in the year 1900 a population of 83,1)26,000, and a regular army of 60,476, or one soldier to every 1,370 inhabitants. Japan and Korea, with a popu.'atlon of 51,176,602, has a regular army of 214,200 men, or one soldier to every 240 people. There are no reliable statistics concerning China, although Its population s estimated at 400,000, and its army it only 100,000, or one soldier to every 10,000 people. India has a population of 231,899,>07, with a regular army of 75,486 ,or >ne soldier to every 3,070 people. Australia has a population of 4,'59,495, and a regular army of 33,058, >r one soldier to every 144 people. Canada has a pouiatlon of 5,528,i47. and a regular army of 40,730, or >ne soldier to every 136 people. Turkey, Bulgaria and Egypt have a copulation of 38,478,383, with a reguar army of 444,994, or one soldier to every 86 people. Europe has a population of 402,>77,540, with regular armies aggregatng 3,826,252 men, or one soldier to every 104 inhabitants. Of European countries peaceful lltle Switzerland appears to have the argjest armed force proportionately. 5he has one soldier to every 23 peo)le. France has one soldier to every >1 people. Germany and Sweden have each one soldier to every 90 people, rhe other countries range between 110 ceople in Russia to 170 people in 3reat Britain to each soldier. A reduction of the regular armies it Europe to the proportion of the cgular army of the United States vould effect a direct saving of 3500,100,000 annually to the nations, and vould restore to productive industries 1,733,000 men, whose earnings, con>ervatlvely estimated, would amount o Ji>uu,uuu,uuu more. Europe ntut #x,>00,000,000 per annum to gain by the idoptlon of Carnegie's plan of general lisarmament, and of President Taft's jolley of arbitration. One thousand nilllons per annum is the cost of Maintaining armies upon a peace footng, while the cost of war is not eapa)le of being estimated. It costs the people of Great Britain 13.98 per annum per capita of popuation to maintain her army on a peace ootlng. It costs France $3.48 per :aplta and Germany $2.05 per capita. The cost to the United States is but 94 :ents per capita. The reserved force )f every European nation is very treat in proportion to the number of toldiers in the regular army. But novhere is It so great as In the United States, which could, if necessary, call en millions of men into the field.