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[no" By G r.: ft SHEILA. Synopsis.?Dyck Calhoun, gifted young Irish Gentleman of the time I of the French and American revo- ( lutions, meets Sheila Llyn, seven- ^ teen-year-old girl visiting in the neghborliood. They are mutually I attracted. Sheila never knew her j dissipated father. Erris Boyne, her ( mother having divorced him. In .Dublin Leonard Mallow and Dyck tight with swords and Dyck is vie- i ( tor. Erris Boyne. secretly in French employ, gets Dyck drunk and tries to persuade him to Join in revolt against England. They quarrel. While Dyck is overcome with \ drugged wine, Boyne's second wife enters the room and stabs her faithless husband to the heart. Dyck is arrested on a charge of murder. He does not know If he j kilied Boyne or not. Sheila begs her mother to go to Dublin with her to help Dyck. Mrs. Llyn opposes the idea. A letter from Mrs. Llyn's wealthy brother in America decides them to go and live with him. Dyck refuses to enter any plea except "No Defense." He might have escaped by revealing ; Boyne's treachery but refuses on Sbella's account. He is sent to prison for eight years. Sheila writes Dyck, assuring him of her 1 belief In his innocence. Released after serving four years, Dyck finds ^ himself destitute, his father dead. In London Dyck receives a letter I from Sheila inviting him to come to America and sending money for I the voyage. He feels he cannot In honor go to her. Dyck Joins the British navy as an enlisted man. ' Bad conditions In the Meet result in mutiny. Dyck. joining the mutl- I neers, is chosen by them to command the ship, the Ariadne. Dissatisfied with the conduct of the ' other ships' crews. Dyck breaks i with them and sails the Ariadne to the West 'Indies. He arrives in time * to turn the tide of victory In a 1 battle between the French and i English Heets. Calhoun is arrested I for his part in the mutiny but thanked by the admiral for his , work in the battle. The British government gives Dyck the free- 1 dom of the island of Jamaica, of which his old enemy. Lord Mallow, ^ is governor. With a companion. Dyck secures treasure worth ?40,000 1 from a - sunken Spanish ship, and I : becomes a wealthy and respected i ] planter. j i i (CHAPTER XIII?Continued.) ; ] "The governor has been warned, hut ! he gives no heed, or treats It nil lightly, pointing out how few the Maroons are. He forgets that a few determined men can demoralize a whole state, can ! fight and murder and fly to dark cowrts in the tropical woods, where 1 they cannot lie tracked down and de- J stroved; and, if they have made supporters of the slaves, what conse- ' quences may not follow! "One thing is clear to me?only by ( hounds can these people be defeated. So sure am I upon this point, that I have sent to Cuba for sixty hounds, , with which, when the trouble comes? * and it Is not far off?we shall be able , to hunt the Maroons with the only , weapon they really fear?the dog's I -~ -? i^ w- ?? ; 1 snurp loom. ii inuj oe uie guvenioi may intervene on the arrival of the j dogs; hut I have made friends with the provost marshal general and some members of the Jamaica legislature; also I have a friend in the deputy of the provost marshal general in my parish of Clarendon here, and I will make m good bet that the dogs will he let come Into the island, governor or 110 j governor. . "When one sets one's self against ( the crown one must be sure of one's | ground, and fear no foe, however great j :and high. Well, I have won so far, , and I shall win in the end. Mallow j should have some respect for one that ] beat him at Phoenix park with the , sword: that beat him when he would , have me imprisoned here; that beat , him in the matter of the ship for Haiti. } and that will heat him on every hazard , lie sets, unless he stoops to underhand | acts, which he will not do. That much v must he said for him. ( "Hut what is this I see? Michael Clones?in his white jean waistcoat, j white neckcloth and trousers and blue , coat?is coming up the drive in hot j haste, hearing a letter. He rides too hard. He has never carried himself j easily in this climate. He tredts it as , if it was Ireland. He will not protect j himself and. if penalty followed folly. ! . snouju now ne in ins grave. i line i j you, Michael. You are a boon, but?" | CHAPTER XIV. ? I Strangers Arrive. j Pyck Calhoun's letter was never ended. It was only a relic of the years spent in Jamaica, only a sign of bis | well-being, though it gave no real picture of himself, lie was in appearance thin, dark-favored, buoyant in manner and stern in face, with splen- i did eyes. Had be dwelt on Olympus, \ he might have been summoned to judge i and chastise the sons of men. I When Michael Clones came to the doorway, Iiyck laid down bis (piill pen and eyed the llusbed servant in dis- j i approval. ; "What is it, Michael? Wherefore : I this siarkness? Is some one come from i Jiea veil V 1 "Not precisely from heaven, y'r honor. but?" "lint?yes, Michael! Have done wirh hut-lug and come to the real matter." "Well, sir, they've come from Virginia." Pyck Calhoun slowly got to his feet, his face paling, his body stiffening. From Virginia ! Who should be coming from Virginia, save she to whom he i had just been writing? "Who has come from Virginia?" He knew, but lie wanted it said. "Sure, you knew a vessel came from America last night. Well, in her was one that was called the queen of Ireland long ago." "Queen of Ireland?well, what then?" DEF1 ILBERTP Dyck's voice was tuneJess, liis manner ritri?l. his eyes burning. 'Well, she?Miss Sheila Llyn and her mother are going to the Salem plantation. down by the Essex Valley mountain. It is her plantation now. It belonged to her uncle. Bryan Llyn. He got it in payment of a debt, lie's dead now and all his lands and wealth have come to her. Her mother, Mrs. Llyn. Is with her and they start tomorrow or the next day for Salem." Dyck Calhoun made an impatient gesture at this last remark. "Yes. yes, Michael. Where are they now?" "They're at Charlotte Bedford's lodg ings in Spanish town. The governor waited on them this morning. The governor sent hem flowers ami?" "Flowers?Lord Mallow sent them flowers! Hell's fiend, man, suppose lie did?" 1 "There are better flowers here than itny in Spanish Town." "Well, lake them, Michael; but if vou do, come here again no more while you live, for I'll have none of you. Do you think I'm entering the lists against the king's governor?" "You've done it before, sir, and there's no harm In doing It again. One good turn deserves another. I've also to tell you, sir, that Lord Mallow has asked them to stay at King's house." "Lord Mallow has asked Americans to stay at King's house?" "But they're Irish, and he knew them In Ireland, y'r honor." "From whom do you get your Information?" asked Dyek Calhoun with an ilr of suspicion. "From Darius Bolnnd, y'r honor." tnswered Michael, with a smile. "Who Is Darius Boland, you're askln' In y'r mind? Well, he's the new manager come from the Llyn plantations In Virginia; and right good stuff he Is, with a tongue that's as dry as cut wheat In August. I saw him this mornln' on the quay at Kingston. He was orderin' the porters about with an air?oh, bedad. an air! I saw the name upon the parcels?Miss Sheila Llyn of Molra, Virginia, and so I spoke 'o hint. 'Well,* said he, 'who might you be? For there's queer folks in Jamaica, I'm told.' So I said I was Michael Clones, and at that he doffed Ills hat and held out a hand. 'Well, 1 Here's luck,' said he. 'Luck at the rery start! I've heard of you from ny mistress. You're servant to Mr. Dyck Calhoun?ain't that it?' And 1 nodded and he smiled again?a smile hat'd cost money anywhere else than n Jamaicu. Queer way of talk he has. thut man, as queer as?" "I understand, Michael. But what ?lse? How did you cotne to talk about :he affairs of Mrs. and Miss Llyn? He Jidn't JuSt spit it out, did he?" "Sure; not so quick and free as i >pittin\ y'r honor, but when he'd sorted ne out. as it were, he said Miss Llyn : liad come out here to take charge of >aletn, her own estate In Virginia be- 1 n' in such good runnln' order and her 1 mind bein' active. Word had come ' )f the trouble with the manager here, ind one of the provost marshal's deputes had written accounts of the flog- ' ;ing and ill-treatment of slaves, and mat s way sne come?to put tilings right at Salem!" "To put tilings wrong in Jamaica. Michael, that's why she's come. To ' onse the ball of confusion and free I he tlood of tragedy?that's why she's trome! Man, Michael, you know her li.story?who she was and what happened to her father. Well, do you think here's no tragedy in her coining here? [ killed her father, they say, Michael. 1 [ was punished for it. I came here o be free of all those things?lifted nit and away from them all. 1 longed o forget the past, which is only shame uid torture; and here it is all spread nit at my door again like a mat, which [ must see as 1 go in and out. There vas no 'talk on Bol\ind's part of their mining here, was thete, Michael?" "None at all, sir, hut there was that ti the man's eye and that in his tone, vhlch made me sure he thought Miss l.lyn and you would meet." "That would he strange, wouldn't it. t>. this immense continent!" L)yek renarked cynically. "She knew I was lore before she came. I wonder her not lie: let her come here. Her mother tnew part of the truth. She hid it all Tom the girl?and now they are here! "Michael, order my horse and I will :o to Spanish Town. This matter must >e brought to a head. The truth must .e told. Order my horse!" "It is the very heat of the day, sir." "Then at five o'clock, after dinner, have my horse here." "Am I to ride with you, sir?" Dyck nodded. "Yes, Michael. There's only one thing to do?face all the facts with all the evidence, and you are fact and iwideiiee, too. You know more of the truth than any one else." 1 Several hours later, when the sun was abating its force a little, after traveling the burning roads through vains ami cocoa, grnnudillus and all kinds of herbs and roots and vagrant trees, D.vck Calhoun and Michael Clones came into Spanish Town. Dyck looked around upon the town with new eyes. He saw it like one for the first time visiting it. He saw the people passing through tlte wide verandas of tlte houses, like a vast colonnade, down the street, to he happily sheltered from the fierce sun. As they passed King's house they saw troops of the viceroy's guests issuing j from the palace?officers of the king's | navy and army, officers and men of the Jamaica militia, pale-faced, big-eyed men of the Creole class, mulattoes, quadroons and octoroons, Sam hoes : with their wives in loose skirts, white stockings and pinnacle hats. Snatches of song were heard and voices of men who had had a full meal and had "taken observations"?as looking ENSi ARRER through the bottom of a glass of liquor was called by people with naval spirit?were mixed in cureless carousal.. All this jarred on Dyck Calhoun and cave revolt to his senses. Vet he was only half-conscious of the great sensuousness of the scene as he passed through It. All was brought to focus at last, however, by their arrival at Charlotte Bedford's lodgings, which, like most houses In the town, had a flttu.l iclth no-pen blinds and a telescope, and bad a green-painted wooden railing round It. At tbe very entrance, Inside the gate, in the garden, they saw Sheila Llyn, her niotlK'r and Darius Bolnnd, who seemed to be enduring from the mother some sharp reprimand, to the amusement of the daughter. As the gate closed behind Dyck and Michael, the three from Virginia turned round and faced them. As Dyck came forward, Sheila flushed and trembled. Site was no longer a young girl, but iter slim straightness and the soft lines of her figure gave her a dignity and charm which made her young womanhood distinguished? for she was now twenty-five and had a carriage of which a princess might have been proud. Yet it was plain that the entrance of Dyck at this moment was disturbing. It was not what site had foreseen. She showed no hesitation, however, but came forward to meet her visitor, while Michael fell back, as also did Darius Boland. Both these seemed to reulize that the less they saw and heard, the better; and they presently got together in another part of the garden, as Dyck Calhoun came near enough almost to touch Sheila. Surely, lie thought, she was supreme in appearance and design. She was touched by a rose on each cheek and made womanly by firm and yet generous breasts, tenderly imprisoned by the white chiffon of her blouse in which was one bright sprig of the buds of a cherry tret?a touch of modest luxuriance on a person sparsely ornamented. It was Sheila herself, whom time had enriched with far more than years and experience. It was a personality which would anywhere have taken place and held It. It was undefeatable, persistent and permanent; It was the spirit of Ireland loose In a world thut was as far apart from Ireland as she was from her dead, dishonored father. And Dyck? At first she felt she must fly to him?yes. In spite of the fact that he had suffered prison for manslaughter. But a nearer look at him stopped the Impulse at Its birth. Here was the Dyck Calhoun she had known In days gone by, but not the Dyck she hud looked to see; for this man was like one who had come from a hanging, who had seen his dearest swinging at the end of a rope. Ills face was set In coldness; his hair was streaked with gray; his forehead had it line In the middle; his manner was rigid, almost frigid, Indeed. Only In his eyes was there that which denied nil that his face npd manner said?a hungry, absorbing, hopeless look, the look of one who searches for a friend In the denying desert. Somehow, when he bowed low to her and looked her in the eyes as no r\no In nil her life bad ever done, she Iind nn almost agonized understanding ? Dyck Looked Around Upon the Town With New Eyes. of what a main feels who lias heen j imprisoned?that lie is never the same again. lie was an ex-convict and yet she did not feel repelled by him. She did not believe he had killed Krris Hoyne. As for the later crime of mutiny, that did not concern her much. She was Irish; hut, more than that, she was in sympathy with the mutineers. She understood why Dyck Calhoun, enlisting as a common sailor, should take up their cause and run risk to advance it. That lie had advanced It was known to all the .vorFQ; that he had paid the price of his mutiny by saving the king's navy with j a stolen ship; and that he had won wealth was but another proof of the man's power. "You would not come to America, so I came here, and?" She paused, ' her voice trembling slightly. "There is much to do at Salem," he added calmly, and yet with his heart beating as it had not beaten since the day he had first met her at riaymore. j "You wouldn't take the money I | sent to Dublin for you?the gift of a believing friend, and you would not come to America!" j V Authc I "The Seats oi * "The Righ "I shall have to tell you why one clay," lie answered slowly, "but I'll pay my respects to your mother now." So saying he went forward and bowed low to Mrs. Llyn. Unlike her daughter, Mrs. Llyn did, not offer her hand. She was pale, distraught, troubled?and vexed. She, however, murmured his name and bowed. "You did not expect to see me here In Jamaica," he said boldly. "Frankly, I did not, Mr. Calhoun." she said. "You resent my coming here to see you? You think it bold, nt least." She looked at him closely and firmly. "You know why I cannot welcome you." "Yet I have paid the account demanded by lhe law. And you had no regard for him. You divorced him." Sheila^ had drawn near, and Dyck made a gesture in her direction. "She does not know," he said, "and she should not hear what we say now." Mrs. Llyn nodded, and in a low tone told SheiJa that she wished to be alone with Dyck for a little while. In Dyck's eyes, ns he watched Sheila go, was a thing deeper than he had ever known or shown before. In her white gown and with her light step Sheila seemed to float away?a picture graceful, stately, buoyant, "keen and small." As she was about to puss beyond a clump of pimento bushes, she turned her head toward the two, and there was that In her eyes which few ever see and seeing are afterward the same. It was a look of Inquiry, of revelation, of emotion which went to Dyck's heart. "No, she does not know the truth/' Mrs. Llyn said. "But It has been hard hiding It from her. One never knew whether some chance remark, some allusion In the papers would tell her you had killed her father." "Did I kill her father?" asked Dyck helplessly. "Did I? I was found guilty of It, but on my honor, Mrs. Llyn, I do not know and I do not think I did. I have no memory of It. We quarreled. I drew my sword on him, then he made an explanation and I madly, stupidly drank drugged wine ' In reconciliation with him, and then I remember nothing more?nothing at all." "What was the cause of your quarrel?" Dyck looked at her long before answering. "I hid that from my father even, and hid It from the world?did not even mention It In court at the trial. If I had, perhaps I should not have gone to Jail. If I had, perhaps I should not be here In Jamaica. If I had?" He paused, a flood of reflection drowning his face, making his eyes shine with black t-orrow. "Well, If you had! . . . Why did you not? Wasn't It your duty to save yourself and save your friends, If you could? Wasn't that your plain duty?" "Yes, and that was why I did not tell what the quarrel was. If 1 had, even had I killed Erris Boyne, the jury would not have convicted me. Of thut I am sure. It was a loyalist jury." "Then why did you not?" "Isn't It strange that now, after all these years, when I have settled the account with Judge and jury, with state and law?that now I feel I must tell you the truth? Madam, your exhushand, Errls Boyue, was a traitor. He was an officer In the French army and he offered to make me an officer also and pay me well in French government money, If I would break allegiance and serve the French cause? Ah, don't start! lie knew I was on my last legs financially. He knew I had acquaintance with young rebel leaders like Emmet, and he felt 1 could be won. So he made his proposal. Because of your daughter 1 | held my peace, for she could bear it less than you. I did not tell the cause of the quarrel. If I had, there would have been for her the double shame. That was why I held my peace?a i fool, but so It was!" < The woman seemed almost robbed of understanding. His story overwhelmed her. Vet what the man had done was so quixotic, so Celtic, that her senses were almost paralyzed. "So mad?so mad and bud und wild you were," she said. "Could you not see it was your duty to tell ail, no matter what the consequences? The man was a villain. But what madness you were guilty of, what cruel madness: Only you could have done aj thing like tlint. Krris Ifoyne deserved death?I care not who killed him?you or another. He deserved death, and it was right he should die. Hut that you should kill him. apart from all else?why. indeed, oh. indeed, it is u tragedy, for you loved my daughter, and the killing made a gulf between you! There could he no marriage in such a case. Site could not bear it, nor could you. Hut please know this, Mr. Calhoun, that she never-believed you killed Krris Hoyne. She lias said so again and again. You are the only man who has'ever touched her mind or her senses, though many have sought her. Wherever she goes men try to win her, hut she has no thought for any. ller mind goes back to you. Just when you entered the garden I learned?and only then?that you were here. She hid it from me, but Darius Holaml knew, and he had seen your man, Michael Clones, and she had then made him tell me. I was incensed. I was her mother, and yet she had hid the thing ftotn me. I thought she came to this island for the sake of Salem, and I found that : she came not for Salem, but for you. . . . Ah, Mr. Calhoun, she deserves what you did to save her, hut you j should not have done it." "She deserves all that any better | man might do. Why don't you marry ! her to some ghat man in your repub- ' lieV It would settle my trouble for j -^=jjl >r of f the Mighty" || t of Way" Copyright by Sir Gilbert Parker me and free her mind from unxlety. Mrs. Llyn, we are inVt children, you and I. Xou know lire, and so uo i, and " She Interrupted him. "He sure of this, Mr. Calhoun, she knows life even better than either of us. She Is. and has always been, a girl of sense and judgment. When she was a child she was my master, even in Ireland. Yet she was obedient and faithful, and kept her head in all vexed things. She will have her way, and she will have It as she wants it, and in no other manner. She is one of the world's great women. She is unique. Child as she is, she still understands all that men do, and does It." "Why does she not marry? Is there no man she can bear? She could have the highest, that's sure." He spoke with passion and insistence. If she were married his trou "Lord Mallow?He Courts Her, Does He?" ble would he over. The worst would have come to him?like death. He had the look of a lost angel, one who fell with Belial In the first days of sin. "There is no man she can hear? except here In Jamaica. It Is no use. Your governor. Lord Mallow, whom she knew In Ireland, who Is distant kin of mine, he has already made advances here to her, as he did In Ireland?you did not know that. She Is rich, and he would he glad of an estate that brings in scores of thousands of pounds yearly. He lias asked us to stny at King's house, but we have declined. We start for Salem In a few hours. She wants her hand on the wheel." "Lord Mallow?he co.urts her, does he?" His face grew grimmer. "Well, she might do worse, though if she were one of ray family I would rather see her In her grave than wedded to him. For he is selfish?aye, as few men are! He would eat and keep his apple, too. Ills theory is that life is but a game, und it must be played with steel He would soueeze the life out of a flower,-and give the flower to his dog to eat. He thinks first and always of himself. He would?but there, he would make a good husband as husbands go for some women, but not for this woman! It Is not because he Is my enemy I say this. It is because there Is only one woman like your daughter, and that is herself; and I would rather see her married to a hodger that really loved her than to Lord .Mallow, v^ho loves only one being on enrth?himself. But see, Mrs. Llyn, now that you know all, now that we three have met again, and this island is small and tragedy is at our doors, don't you think your daughter should be told the truth? It will end everything for-me. But it would be better so. Your conscience will be clearer, and so will mine. We shall have done the right thing at last. Why did you not tell her who her father was? Then why blame me? You held your pence to save your daughter, ns you thought. I hold my tongue for the same reason: hut she is so much a woman now that she will understand us she could not have understood years ago hi Limerick. In God's name let us speak, one of us should tell her. and I think it should he you. And see. though I know I did right in withholding the facts about the quarrel with Erris I'oyne, yet I favor telling her that he was a traitor. The whole truth now or nothing. That Is my view." He saw how lined and sunken was her face; he noted the weakness of her carriage; lie realized the task he was inutiic-* on her, and his heart relented. "No, 1 will do it," he added, with sudden will, "and I will do it now, if 1 may." "Oh, not today?not today!" she said with a piteous look "Let it not he today, it is our first day here, and we are due at King's house tonight. even in an hour from now." "Kill isn't it better to end it nil now? Suppose Lord Mallow tells her.'* "lie iliil not before. He is not likely now," was the vexed reply. "Is it a thini: a gentleman will speak of to a lady?" "Hut you do not know Mallow. If he thought she had seen me today, he would not hesitate. Wjiat would you do, if you were Lord Mallow?" "No, not today," she persisted. "It is all so many years ap>. It can hurt muurht to wait a little longer." "When and where shall it be?' he asked ploomily.' "At Salem?at Salem. We shall be settled then?and steady. There is every reason why you should consider me. 1 have suffered as few women have suffered, and I do not hate you. I am only sorry." Far down at the other end of the garden he saw Sheila. Her face was in profile?an exquisite silhouette. She moved slowly among the pimento bushes. "As you wish," he said with a heavy sigh. The sight of the girl anguished his soul. \ CHAPTER XV. At Salem. The plantation of Salem was In a region below the I'edro plains In the parish of St. Elizabeth, where grow the aloe, and torch-thistle, and clumps of wood which alter the appearance of the plain from the South Downs of England. In^t where thousands oi cattle and horses even In those days were maintained. The air of the dis trict was dry and elastic, and it til tered down to the valleys near like that where Salem was with its clus ters of negro huts and offices, its mills and distilleries where sugar and mm ^1nlom tt'OO ttl + liatoH nil the Black river, accessible by boats and canoes. The huts of negro slaves were near the sugar mills, without regard to order, but in clusters of bn nana, avocado-pear, limes and oranges and with the cultivated land rount their huts made an effective picture. Every plantation had a surgeon whf received a small sum for attendance on every slave, while special cases ol midwifery, inoculation, etc.. had a par tlcular nllowance. The surgeon hac to attend to about four hundred t< five hundred negroes, on an Income ol ?150 per annum, and hoard and lodg ing and washing, besides what he made from his practice with the whites. Salem was no worse than some oth er plantations on the island, but It wa.? far behind such plantations as that owned by Dyck Calhoun, and had beer notorious for the cruelties committee on it. To such an estate a lady like Sheila Llyn would be a boon. She wa.< not on the place a day before she started reforms which would turn tilt plantation into a model scheme Houses, food, treatment of the negroe? became at once a study to her, and her experience in Virginia was inval unble. She had learned there not tc work the slaves too hard in the warn: period of the day; and she showed hei interest by having served at her own table the favorite olio the slaves madt of plantains, bananas, yams, calalue eddoes, eassavl, and sweet potatoes foiled with salt fish and flavored witt cayenne pepper. This, with the un ripe roasted plantain as bread, wa> a native relish and health-giving food "I hid it?I did not want you to know what your father wa?." (TO BE CONTINUED.) "TIRED BUSINESS MAN" MYTH Here Are a Few Facts That Throw Cold Water on Appellation That Was Always Silly. A chronically tired business maji Is an anomaly. There ain't no such ant mnl. Nohodv believes in him. A mac who Is tired the round of the clock from what he Is pleased to call over work?who gets up tired, and goes tc bed tired, und does all his living In a tired way, Is entitled to cull lilrasell by as muny names as he pleases; but he mustn't call himself a, business man?not unless he wants to be the object of smiles like any other Incongrulty. It may not be just, but It's so Moreover, It Is perfectly just in a vasl majority of cases. Ninety per cent of the business men who deceive themselves Into the notion thut they are tired because thej overwork ore tired because they don'l take care of themselves, and they don'l take care of themselves becuuse they are too lazy and indolent to do It. Id other words, many a so-called business man allows himself to be chronically tired, an outwardly respectable hobo In a white collar. He plays the fut boy. An unsympathetic world has a way of telling the fat boy that If he will eat less, take some exercise, shake his liver and act like u normal boy he will yawn less. Everybody with good sense knows that work, other things being equal, Is a remedy for most of our Ills, and not the cause of them. It can become otherwise only by a perversion of thought. ?The Nation's Business. NEW FUNCTION FOR RAILROAD Photographs of Scenic Views Are Now Employed to Please the Prospective Traveler. Nowadays the railway man does something more than oil and repair locomotives, run trains, keep roadbeds in repair, and prepare time-tables. He also takes photographs. This is because the modern railway man has come to broad understanding of his function, lie Is not merely a transformed bus driver. He is a merchant. lie sells transportation, as a piano dealer sells pianos, and he desires to make his product attractive. ! The beautiful casing of a piano does not add to its musical qualities, but it makes the prospective purchaser pleased with it in advance and contented with it after lie purchases it. A photograph does not transport a passenger or make ids journey safe, hut it pleases the prospective traviler and add? an element to his Journey which makes it more valuable to him both in anticipation and in memory. Hut the railway man is even more than a merchant. He is as truly as an j oflicer of the government a social servi ant. Civilization is a product of j travel. Whoever not only promotes travel but helps to give it significance Is a leadr in civilization. And this is what the railway man does. It is in this capacity, not merely as n merchandiser of motion, but as an enlarger of the environment of men and teacher of what travel has to offer to men's minds and souls, that tlie railI way man employs the camera.?From i the Outlook. ?J jp, ,?r- , TAKE TIME . I TO i A MINOR POINT. ' "ITlll.A ?A?? ...... AA IvAAlffl Ad AAtite jvu uuj iriciruirc UUUAO ?U ' Napoleon Bonaparte." asked the,timid 1 old lady In a public library. 1 "Thousands of them, madam," re' plied the librarian, proudly. "What ' particular phase of the Great Corsi- ^ can's career do you wish to study?" "I don't suppose you'd call It a phase of his career, and I'm sure I won't 4 ' have to study thousands of books, but I would like to know why he Is so ) often pictured with his arms folded." 1 Beside the Stream. "A boy with a bent pin and a piece of string will catch more fish than a man with a fancy outfit," remarked the affable sportsman. "I have heard so," replied the small boy whose luck had been bad. "But you cun't believe most of the flsb stories th?se city fellers make up." AN EASY MARK "He's an eaay mark." "That so7" "Yea. Everybody can get money out of him except his wife." Luck. He went to see the dentist The picture of despair. But came back smiling broadly? The dentist wasn't there. Different Calculation. "What do you understand by the * problem of unemployment?" "I have only studied a few Individual cares," replied the sardonic cltl | zen. 'In these the problem seemeu to consist In figuring how to do as little work as possible without going broke.'* Historic Figures. , "Dou you think the historic figures of the future will be greater than # those of the past?" "I'm afraid so," replied Senator Sorghum. "The figures suggested In connection with congressional appropriations are becoming lurger every year." ? Seven?Count 'Em. A correspondent, J. M., sends us a usable little Joke, quite all right to the eye, though perhaps not so good to the ear. It is this: "Miss Dayeollete turned her back on me." "The vertebrazen thing!" Too Loud. "Oh, my." said the flapper at the 60dn fountain as the straw in her soda became bent, "my sucker's broke!" "Hush!" whispered her escort. "You needn't tell everybody about It if I am." LUCK Young Doctor?I havent lost a patient since I hung up my shingle. Other Doctor?I wish I had your luck. Ail mine got well. Think This Over. It's wicked to deceive your wife, i And any man Makes the great errSt of his life Who thinks he can. Nothing Serious. "I heard Flubdub say he hadn't a cent left and now he's hunting for his 1 revolver. Hadn't we better watch ! him?" "I think not. He's a sensible man and Is merely going to pawn it." i All Manner of Men. >n,?i " r,im!TrL-Pii thp ndmirer 1 of poetry, "so into politics with the ' idea of leaving footprints on the sands of time." 1 "Some do." replied Senator Sorghum. : "And others are lucky If they get out ' without having their thumbprints token." Advanced English. Jessie?Billy swears awfully. I James (absent-mindedly)? Yes. I can do better myself.?Notre Dame Juggler. ? Tribute to an Unknown Genius. "Who started the Bacon-Shakespeare controversy?" -t I.I T l.nn.i.r< rol.ilr.n.t Vtr "HOW Milium i i ..... Stormlngton Barnes. "Whoever started it knew his business. It turned out to be the most wonderful- press agent stuff In the history of the drama." Welcome, Stranger. "He's the sort of fellow you like to play poker with." "That so?" "Yes. Doesn't play well enough to win much and can afford to lose." 1