Bemorraiir iat =m Bellefonte, Pa., January 29, 1909, BAD HABIT LAND. The topsyest-turveyest land that I koow Is the land where the careless and bad children RO. Now take for example the dear little boys Who seldom, if ever, help pick up their toys. I know at least two, snd perhaps you know more, ‘Whose shoes lie on tables and hats on the floor. T heir chiffonier drawers so untidy, and think! Near suits of white danck I found bottles of ink, With roller skates, brushes, and often a shirt— Each one always open collecting the dirt, Soap flosting in basins, gum stuck to the glass, While gone every handle of bright polished brass Their mothers implore them to try and be neat. They'll say, “Yes, 1 will,” and fly into the street. Bat lo! Topsy-turyy land sends out a witch Whose name is “Bad Habit” and carries a switch, 8he rides on the back of a fierce looking bat And whisks them away without even a hat. * Tis oniy the untidy boys, understand, She'll carry while sleeping to Bad Habit Land. Now a= for the giris, their rooms are a sight, With clothes scattered 'round where they left them Inst night New bows of silk ribbon of black, brown and blue Are thrown in a ccrner beside a soiled shoe. In top drawers are brushes and combs filled with hair, Clean belts and kid gloves near an old Teddy bear. Their fine burean silver is tarnished and black, While pretty white shirt waists are pinned in the back. Their tooth brush and slippers are thrown on the floor, I'm realiy ashamed to betray any more. Though careless, they sleep most serenely and bland *Till, they, too, are taken to Bad Eabit Land. And once they arrive thero—now mind what | Forever and ever and ever they'll stay. Poor father and mother may beg on each knee, They're held by Bad Habits and cannot get free, ‘They're prisoners for life, little girl, and what's more, They're kept in a place with a strong iron door, And there they may linger like little caged rab- bits, Beware then, each child, of the land of “Bad Habits." [Irene Elliott Benson. THE UNAVAILABLE OPULENCE OF IRBY TUEL. ‘‘Sister Clutcher, ever since | wedded that gal o’ yourn to Irby Tael, I've laid off to speak my mind concernin’ the way you raised her.” ball ;an’ I shore fetch her up to regard prope’ty—ef shat is yo’ meanin. I says to all my chil’en, says I,*When ye wed, want eto wed prope’ty-an’ a plenty.’ An’ they u's nary oue on 'em goue ag’in me. Ju- let’ she done the best ; but bit ain't every that a monnting yal meets up with a feller with seb’'m hundred dollars in his right band.” “For a perfessin’ Christian, you do sho’- ly think too much of riches, Sister Clatch- er,”’ said the preacher sharply. “You want to study more about layin’ up treas- ures where thieves cain’t break th'oo an’ steal.” **That’s true, Brother Mayhall. ef a body has money on this earth look like they’s allos a passel o' folks tryin to gis it away from ’em,’’ agreed Elvira Clutoher, im- pervious to the reprool in her pastor's 8. “Well, I tell youn and Sister Tael,"’ said the outepoken old man, ‘‘shas I never wed- ded a pair with a more sinking hears. You women jest sp'iled ’em plumb rotten. That thar boy needs for to be showed that the gal he’s got is just a homav—or more so. Juletty ort to kvow that Irhy Tael ain’s nothin’ hat asioful man—an 'yonug at that. Au’ they both need to be conviot- ed of she troth that riches—eb'm veb’m hondred dollars—is but a fading gloss that takes unto hitse’f wings an’ leaves nary a thiog bat a heap of ashes hehime at the lass.” “Lemme see the paper,” quavered Mrs. Tuel. *‘Ah—Ilaw—hah ! Brother Mayball. I reckon Irby an’ Julet’ i« bonud to need all they’ smartueess for to keep what they away [rom them shievish town . Some oon 'em must ba’ done hearn tell abont Ithy an’ his riches ; fer they've even gone «o far as to git ap a bogust tele- grals an’ send hit to me for to try kin they locate that thar woney and steal his!" Slowly aud weightily she drew out and unfolded a yellow paper, every eye eagerly upon her ; is was a rich moment. She had reserved this delectable bit of gossip for a later part of the meeting; hus the preach er’s remarks seemed to wake its prodae- tion now almost dramatically opportune. Mayball took the yellow slip and read : ‘Mossy Cove, Junes. Out of money. F——— TTT “I’ve been a-wantin' that thar belt—jest adzackley that-un in thar—fer more’'n a month, reckon. Irby,’’ she continued, turning to she lad beside her and raising ber voice sharply : *‘Irby, that’s the belt I want'’—it wae probably the twentieth time she had addressed this observation to her young husband. She pointed to a cheap gilt girdle of linked plates. “Know hit—ye said that afore, honey. Jest wait tell we have some breaklast, and I go to the telegralt office—mebbe I kin bay it fer ye by then.” *‘An’ you said that afore !”” pouted the bride, vith a tempestuous heave of the pink-calico clad bosom, and a mutinons glance at her legal lord and master. ‘I pamed hit to you a-yesterday when we come a-past this byer winder; and you said them very same words. I want to know, right now, don’t ye aim to never buy me nothin’? What ye pesterin’ ’round thas old telegrafs office fer all the time? I could 'a’ bought my helt with the money i ye fooled away thar a-yesterday. Why don’s we go on to Mountain Junction whar we're a-gwine ? Seems like you act guare.”’ A quick red rose to the youog fellow’s freckled face. That sandy poll of bis meant irascibility. ‘‘Always been-told a woman's as full 0’ curiosity as a aig is of meas. Eve in the Bible upsot the whole buosiuess by tryiog to find out what was never intended for her to kuow,”’ he grumbled, going back to a very old griev- ance. He was looking haggard WOorn— and there was just twenty-five cents 1n his et. A wile of longer standing wonld ve felt intuitively that this was a time for amiability. But the handeome, star- eyed gipsy, who had almost to ran to keep up with his long stride, had a pretty little temper of her own. “I shink bit’s about time you told me who ye sent that telegrals to—an’ who you expect to hyer from, an’ what about me—a | wedded wife I"’ she stormed. Irby Tuel faced about in his tracks. He was but a boy, eaten by his first great anxiety—and breakfastless. “Ef ye must know,’ he burst ont, ‘‘I've done lost the seb’m hundred dollars, an’ hit tuck nigh onto the last mouvey I bad te telegralt to yo' mammy—"' “My mammy ?"’ echoed Jaletta between scorn and amazement. “Yes, yo' mammy,’’ doggedly, and with a yet redder face. ‘‘She had the keepin’ on it last I knowed, and she orter 'a’ give it to me befo’ we started. I never noticed till a-yesterday—I—I1 waen’t studyin’ about—'’ bis voice trailed and faltered. He saw the figure he cant in the eyes of hie bride. He gulped and ball turned away with clenched bands. ‘‘Mebbe they's a a telegrafs this mawnin',”” he muttered. With a sodden olutch upon his coat- sleeve Juletta restrained him. Primitive woman that she was, with much of the rom head to foot with curiously widened dark eyes—this husband of bers who lost hi* money and seemed about to weep therefor. “You've lost bit—seb'm buandred dol- lars I"? she said. Irby refused to look at ber. sulked behind thick hlond down-drawn brows. “Turn me a-loose !”’ he growled. *‘I ain’t got but twenty-five cents in my pocket ; but I'm sho’ a-gwine to git me some hreakfast—an’ you t00,”’ he added bastily. “I'm as hoogry as a hound- dog that’s ran for is’s life. I cain't do vothin’ no ways tell I've had sompin’ to eat. I want my breakfass--"' “An’ I want my bels,”” flung back his bride. ‘‘Looks like men allus has to he a- eating —got to eat whatever comes or goes ; got to eat ef they was to die the next min. ute;got to eat—an’ eat quick—ef everything else is plumb lost and ruin’t !"’ She loosed his arm, adding a decided push to the ac- tion, acd faced him fairly blazing. ‘I want my helt. The Lord knows hit's little enough. Hit cost but a quarter —a quarter !"” with a stinging scorn from which the hoy winced so sbarply that he might almost be said to bave dodged. ‘An’ ou ain’t honghs we ary gilt sence we've wedded !"’ Nobody could he more painfully aware of this fact than Irby Tuel—the wealthy Irby Tael, who had planned through the weeks and months of his courtship what he should buy for her, how he should dress her and deck her ont, in what generoos style he should do things, when they came to Mossy Cove on their way to the little mountain station where they should leave the railroad and go by wagon oot to look at the farm which this inberitauce of his was to buy and stock. “Ye talk likea begretched ye the bel,” he said resenttully. ‘I'd git it for ye-— I'd ’a’ got 1t fuss time ye named it to me— el I bad she price. I didn’t natochally aim 10 lose the money. I never lost hit as all, myse’f—hit was yo' mammy what woald come a-meddlin’ into the business, a-wer- ryin’ me av’ a-talkin’ on, ’lowin’ his warn’s safe for me to pack sech a sum in my et thata-way. She tuck it an’ #aid she'd fix fer me to tote it. An’ then Preacher Mayhall was a-comin’, an’ they hollered that the folks was waitin’, an’,”’ lashes and Where is the seven hundred dollars? Answer, | with a sudden rosh of feeling, “I thest Irby Tuel.”’ **Now, don’t that show how folks has to watch out when they've got money ?”’ Ta- el’s mother-in-law inquired triomphantly. “How long ssuce you got this? counnter- ed the preachor abruptly. ‘‘Hit's dated more’n a week ago. You sho'ly answered? Hits trom Irby.” “‘You’ a jokin’; you’ sho'ly a-passin’ yof jokes on me, Brother Mayball. You know I never answered thas fool thing. [I sens. ed mighty well an’ cl’ar Irby bad nothin’ to do with hit. “His ain’s no telegrafs. Hit ain't from Irby, nobow, Sis Tael. Hit's jest a print. ed letter that them thar rogaish town folks uses to fool ye. Don’t you take on,’’ Mis, Cluteher urged. *‘Irby had fo’ dollars an’ eighty cents, he had; mighty nigh five dollars! Tbat’s a plenty, anyhow. Looks like he couldn't no way have spent that much in a week.” But the Rev Mr. Mayhall had been to Mossy Cove—and farther—more than once. He gasped as the thought of this mounatain boy avd girl stranded in a town —even a town of that size—with the tew coins which might have been left out of their four dol- lars and eighty cents by the time of their arrival. “If the rest of vou women can finish here,” he cat in, ‘I'm going to take Sister Clutcher and Sister Tuel over to my house. I'll git them to tell me the rights of this business; and then, if I have to, I'll go plomb to Mossy Cove and hunt up shem pore children. Hit’s no manner of use to telegralt now, for a week has done went by and Lord only knows what they’ ay.” Before one of the shop windows strung Slo the single straggling business street of Mossy Cove, a young couplestood look- ing in—ararce more than boy or girl, plain- ly fresh from the mountains, and each of showing in face and figure marks of weariness and dejection. “I'd laid off to buy me a belt time we £ot to the settlemint,” the girl was mour- Amuring to herself, hall mechanically. ‘ whole mind to me, free, shout his. seed yon, Juletta, an’ you was so pretty an’ sweet at I plumb forgot about the money for one while.” “Oh—Ilaw—purty an’ sweet!” gibed Juletts, with a toss of the head worthy of her mother. *‘Ef that’s all yon got to say, you needn’t come a-nigh me. What do you reckon I wedded ye fei?” The boy looked hungrily at her. Jaletia bad heen a most SUPHVAHEE Syesibears-<s responsive, a royal lover. e longed very much for a little kindness from the one creature he knew in what seemed to him a big, bewildering, heartless city. But she langhed croelly, and answered to his look as though it bad been words. “No, I didn’t, neither. Ef I'd 'a’ wanted a man, I'd a wedded one; bot I jest hones after riches—an’ you bad ‘em. That's what I wedded ye fer, Irby Tael—fer yo’ riches. I reckon I was a fool, but that's what I tuck you fer!” ‘Hit is, is it?" said the young husband slowly, and even Jaletta’s valor faltered a bis before his look and tone. *‘Ye seem to be mighty oncommin’—mighty peart, an’ forrad—ahous tellin’ hit to me now,” he went on with heavy bitterness. * ‘Pears like hit don’t werry ye a hit to say vo’ Bat this is the fust I've heard on it. I wish't you'd a-had the gooduess to give me a sorter hint like shiz fo’ months ago, when—"’ He was about to fling their courtship in her teeth—to taunt her with her sowardli. ness—her readivess to be won—it was in- tolerable ! And as they went along a quiet back street toward the station and the telegraph office, Irby stunned, sullen, bewildered, the furious Juletta hung like a swall active oralt upon his quarter, pour- ing into the bigger, heavier vessel a galling and incessant fire of taunts, precepts, and maxims with which her mother’s teachings had loaded her—not good, honest shot, but chewed bullets, slugs, rusty bent nails, that tore and lacerated and poisoned. There was 2carce a street corner in their young savage in her, she looked bim over | “Juletty’s my baby chile, Elder May- | awifter, wider arcs, His eyes |. . itinerary upon which she aia not stop and londly threaten to leave him. Irby, naturally slow of speech, and now : bleeding from a score of wounds, made but | of few clumsy and muttering replies ; yet these were aimed with a boy’s frank brotality. Ibo shis sort they came to she | with station platform, and together entered the office where the »tatiou-agens performed the duties of telegraph operator. The man loviceq up and laughed as soon as be saw ‘Nothing.’ he said, forestalling poor Itby’s question. “I'm gwine back to the ho-tel,” an- nounced Juletta abropily. “Ef yon bain’ gos the money for to hay nothin’ I want, por to go on to Garyville—I'm gwine back to the bo-tel.”’ And she turvued and flounced oat of the room. “Yer gal's mad commented the fonetion- ary amiably. “Them folks up at Hep- z\bah don’t seems to anawer you very fast about that cash. They’s nothin’ in this world, I reckon, that a feller can get rid of quicker an’ easier than—"’ But Irby Tuel did not bear the conclu- sion on these philosophic ohservations ; he was out at the back of the station, examin- ing a vast pile of cordwood. With his bande in bis pockets he moved ahout seem- ing to seek something, found it, squared his broad shoulders, thrust his hat back, and whistled softly under his breath as he lightly ran an interrogating thumb along the edge of an ax. When the agent put his bead ont at the back window, yoang Tue! glanced np at him with a look at once so frank and so appealing that the fellow’s beart must bave heen a listle touched, for he failed to langh again at the mountain hoy's query ; “Aim two have this byer staff chopped *'’ and only anawered, “Yep. Want the joh *"’ “I reckon s0,’" aid Irhy. ‘‘What ye v om ‘Bont a dollar a cord,” said the other briefly. He turned back into the room, reappearing a moment later to toss cub a smooth pine stick. ‘‘Thar’s the weasure o’ the stove. Watch ont ye don's gis hit any longer’n that—hit's jest right.” The boy's healthy stomach clamored upon bim for breakfast. Bot the moan- taineer’s dignity was his. He fingered the coin in bis pocket thoughtfully. He dared not epend it for a breakfast and antioipate wages which some accident might inter vene to prevent hie receiving. Besides, there was Juletta. The coin went deep into his pocket, and his band came ons ; the hat was jammed down tightly on thas hair which a body might call red ;a moment later the ax flashed high ahove his head, in long glittering curves, and bit savagely into the wood, sending out great chips with every stroke. Never in all his twenty two years had Irby Tuel worked for hire. Always he had been the employ- er. As the grief and bumiliation of that morning surged back upon him, avd he re. called Juletta’s looks and words and tones, the strokes fell faster, the ax flashed in and bit, each time it fell, more and more deeply into the wood. . She'd wvever ‘a’ took up with bim bus for his riches. . . . Theseven hoo dred dollars—that’s all she wedded him for. Ef sbe'd 'a’ wanted a mao . «+ O'man . oman... . Thus, iu the dazed, stung, bewildered young brain, the refrain chimed on hoor after honr. Well, he'd show ber that he was a man, yes. A man could make mon. ey—he could earn it—and buy back what was lost. And so Irhy Tael chopped and split, and chopped and splis, all day--breaklastiess and dinnerless. Toward dusk be held brief comverse with his employer, who was not a bad fellow ; and, baviug received from bim the pay for bis day’s labor, aud permission to occupy au unused palles in a corner of the freight room, he called at the decent little country hotel where be and Juletta bad been boarding, paid what was owing, told the landlady hie wile would stay there for the present, but that he bad got work which would keep him away. To say of Juletta, the girl who bad die. miseed bim— who bad annoovoced herself— quite quit of him forever—on seven differ- ent street corners that morning, who bad hung at the window for hours that alter. noou watching fiom bebind the ragged shade lor his approach, who bad witnessed it, slipped doubtiogly, hopefully down- stairs, and canght the import of bis talk with the landlady-—to say of ber that she pow regarded him with serror would be but to put the wrath mildly. When her tantrom bad subsided it left her rather shamed and disposed to be contrite. Now, she was like a kitten shat has boxed is first mouse—the moose that it means to keep and play with forever—tco bard in ie enthusiasm and killed it outright. She watched with fear-dilated eyes while Irby paid the woman for her board; she crept away unseen and went forlornly back up 10 her room—that room so lovely, so big and empty and gaping with Irby out of is —to spend the long, long evening, and the og miserable night alone. 'or five days this curious state of affairs weot on. Irby Tuael bad found the man’s care for trouble, Simpjoiatment, heartache —work; aud he applied it as vigorously as the individual with hair which a body might call red is apt to. He chopped the agent's whole pile of cordwood; he pass- ed on from it to the cordwood of the sta- tion agent's friends and scquaintances. Only son of a doting mother who was well- to-do for the mountains, Irby bad never been driven to severe and prolonged labor; and during the last three months of his courtship of Juletta be bad, like a petted, spoiled boy, almost eatirely relinquished work of any sort, occupying his time very comfortably with bis wooing,so that this ex- igency, which came upon him abruptly and addressed him in imperative terms, found him somewbas unfis. Bat he made upin dogged resolution what was lacking in muscular bardpess. His bands, which blistered at firs, callonsed over in the palms manfully; his back, which had ached of an evening as though it would break in two, grew ounce nore supple and strong; his eyes loss their grieved, angry, dazed look. He was very literally working out his first problem. Tired Irby could usually sleep soundly, despite his misery; but Juletta’s pillow was wet with ber tears till long after midnighs. Day by day she watched feverishly for some sign of her young husband; and every night, when it was too late for him to come, she told hersell : *“‘He's done lef’ me. He won't never love me no mo’! Ob, Lord, and I cain’t blame him nary bit. E! I wasa man an’ my woman spoke to me like 1did to Irby, I'd whup her sure, an’ then I'd quit her!” She wept dclefally. *“‘An’ that’s what he’s a-fixin’ to do—quit me—soon as he airns money enough tosend me home to maw;"’ and the rest was tears. Bat if Juletta bad faults, she bad also the qualities of those faults; she was scarce one to let the thing loved and desired sli from ber without a gallant struggle. A #0, on the sixth day after their curious fi Hr i bis bis J oppo al he ‘oh Jovely plat, a enly appeared to him, uncertainly | : : I as she bim. He picked up a bis of biskory bark, aud stood cram — between his strong fingers as he ab her. : “That you, Irby?’ she inquired necessarily. The young busband shook the aromatic shreds from bis strong, steady bands drew nearer, noticing toat her breath coming short, as thoagh she bad run that ber mouth trembled, that ber ing so fast io thie last week 10 be a man’s heart—yearned to ber as he answered : “Yes, Jalesty; hit's pobody but the feller ye wedded fer his riches—and turn- ed yo' back en him when shem thar riches lost theirselves master’s back window was closed; the lit- tle, sequestered spot, grassy underfoot, with the homely of the obip-pile and the corded wood, with the scrubby tress ball a stone’s throw off to ove side, was as familiar seeming as she back yard of the mountain cahin which had seen so much of their courtship. Seclusion to them did not mean a quiet parlor with a closed door, aod consideration from those about ; it meant the kitchen doorstep—the bars down at the pasture lot—the milking pen—it meant just euch a scene as this. Julesta took courage, and came a step nearer to her husband. “Ef T ever said—ever said ’at I'd quit ye—'’ she hegan hravely. *“Ye shore said hit—I low ye said his mo'n swenty times,” he retarned promps- ly, but withou$ ravoor. “Well, I reckon I was mad; she looked at him half archly, half piteously, as she thus hid behind the privilega of her sex. “When I'm mad, Irby, I’m thes’ plumb devilish, Maw, she's lowed mo’n once at that temper of mine—hit—'' She shook her head, and again looked at him. Would he help her out? “You was mad, honey,’’ the boy whis- pered softly; “and I don’t blame ye great- ly.” He timidly touched one of her tremb- ling hands. It seemed to move toward him. He took it eagerly. ‘Ye look mighty purty when youn’ mad,” be whispered huskily. She raised brimming eyes to his. ‘‘Bus ye look a sight purtier,and sweeter, when ye ain’t mad, hooey!" Then the words burst from him before he was aware: “Do ye love me?” A sob was his only answer. The kindly back window remained closed ; no footstep woke an echo on the dusty turf ; no eye was there to see,as the two young creatures sprang together, clung together, ohoking, murmoring regret and love, and forgive- ness, between Kisses. Long they stood so, finding each other out for the first time, making acquaintance | he of the heart of the girl he bad not known, she of the real man she had wed- | ded. They were so greatly richer than either had been aware; it was a happy, bappy hoar. ‘‘Let us never fall ont no more,’ mar- mured Juletta at lass, offering the sweet old fallacy that Eve must have proffered to Adan just as the closing gates grazed her And Irhy responded as heartily as the first man wigbt have done: “We sho’ vever will, I ain’t never gwive to werry ye, nor to give ye no caose to foss at me whiles I live !”" He fumbled with his left hand in the breass of his coat, and present- ly drew ous somethiog thas shone and sparkled in the dim lighe., *“‘I—I be'n a- Because my letter this week is in ref erence to a far-cff country that your read- ers know and care littie about, I shall not feel disappointed if you drop it into your waste baskes. I offer some observations and facts gain- ed by a wort of “'fiying’’ trip through a pars of the great wheat growing region of Canada wess, I will begiv at Winnipeg, a city of 125, 000, and called she Chicago of Cavada. It is the capital of the Province of Manitoba, which comprises about thirty millions of acres of land. The city is comparatively new, and is a strictly modern, up-to-date place. They do not say “States” up there, bus Provin- ces, Youn can see, but do not jeel the grip of the British Lion's paw. Manitoba ie the oldest and most thickly settled of that great wheat producing region. Farms there vary in price from say $10, to $50, per acre. The soil in nearly the whole of that vast country is the same as in the Dakotas, and cannot be beaten for wheat raising. Next after wheat comes oats, barley and flax. The rainfall is about 21 inches. Water in wells can he bad anywhere, and at moderate depth, while creeks and larger streams are not scarce, and there are many lakes vary- ing in size, Taxes ate very low. The Sabbath is noticeably better observed than in our western States. The laws aré reasonable and well enforced, without favoritism. Common and higher schools are just about like iu the “States.” The Homestead laws are pretty much like ours, except that there is nothing to pay except the office fees which are about $10. Next in size avd importance after Win- nipeg cawe Brandon, Portage la Prairie, Morden, Carberry, eto. Continuing westward we next came to the Province of Saskatchewan, of which the fine city of Regina is capital. This Province comprises about one handred and fifty-nine millions of acres, or ahout five tiraes as large as Manitoba. It bas less timber—hence a larger ver- centage of prairie and a little less rainfall. In all of this vast region, fuel—wood and coal, sells at about the same high figures as in the Dakotas. In Saskatchewan there is a great deal of government land yet, hut it is a ocousid- erable distance from railroads. There are maoy ‘‘colonies’’ from she States’ in this Province, especially along the “Soo” branch of the Canadian Pacific Railway, | both east and west from the town or city coantin’ all along, to see when I'd gis | of Moose Jaw. enough to pay the board and leave the price of this ; and I thes’ got shat far to- day ; 80 I went and bought hit for ye. It’s the cutest little trick—mighty few gals hiv’d go around.” The tears rushed afresh to the girl's eyes as she bent over the srinket—she listle gilded bels which bad, only a week ago, seemed to her worth tanuting and miecall- ing him for—orying : ‘Ye jest make me ‘shamed, honey! Bas, Irby, [ come down to tell ye thas I've gos a job, too.” He stared in surprise, and she burried to ex plain : Hive a nice joh, making heds and cleaning np rights shar as she hotel ; I went rights baok that—that fast day—and axed ‘em didn’s they bave somin’ fer me to do, an’ this evenin’ they give me she job. Hit’ll pay the board for hoth of us; and we can save all ’at yon airn. I thes’ love to do it—his ain’s bard sae bit. An’ now, ef ye'll only have me baok again, like we used to be" She lifted her face with its red lips, its swimming eyes, and they sealed a new and better betrothal. Just as Taoel’s arm released her they heard the clamor of she incoming train. By a common impulse they went forward through the waiting-room to see ita passen- gers alight, There was bat one gewting off, a tall man with a carpet-hag, who torned and revealed to their astonished eves the welcome, friendly countenance of Preacher Mayhall ! ‘Well, hyer you air!" he cried, with outatretched hand. *‘I 'lowed I might have to #’arch for you two—an’ hyer you air. How ye both comin’ on? Your mother got a telegrals,”’ the reverend gen- tleman explained cautionsly, as they walk- ed dowo the platform toward the strees. ‘She "lowed you mentioned a loss. Bat from bd looks I reckon you've done found the — ’ “No. sir, no, Mr. Mayball, I bain’t found the seb’'m hundred dollae that I telegrafted to Juletty’s maw about ; but I've foand somethin’ that’s worth a heap mo’ to me,” with a fond look at his bride. “Hab !"”” Preacher Mayhall stopped and faced them in the way. “I’m a-airnin’ money an’ suppo’tin’ my wife—"' “Yes, an’ I've got a job, too,” cut in Juletta jealously. “‘And ye've had yo' fust falling outalong of losing the mouey, and done made it up again,’’ the preacher said, looking kindly from one radiant young face to the other. He laid an affectionate band on the boy's shoulder. *‘Son, you've done found a real woman, and a good wife ; Juletty, you've diskyivered a sho-enough man, and a kind husband. When I wedded you spoilt chillen they’ was nothin’ bat a fool saphead of a boy,and a biggisty, ill-tempered, onchristian gal—and might be yit—might be yit—a- startin’ off to brew up trouble for yo'seives; like enough a scandal and a disgrace, end- ing’ up in one of them divo’ces what's a- gittin’ to be so fash’nable ; hadn't ’a’ heen for the—er—the losing of that thar mon- ey. They were at the hotel door naw, and Mayhall was going on to the house of his Mossy Cove kin, “‘Ye bain’ axed me yet did I bring a answer to yo’ telegralt,” he suggested, “I don’t believe you-all aira yin’ about hit; but Siss’ Clutoher said to thest rip the lower left-han’ cornder— byer ? Sist Clatcher said ’at she sewed the The sow fall is not half as great here as you eastern people probably imagine, and when you ges to Regina, you get the warm winds in the winter from the Pacifico, called Chinook winds, which melt the snow very rapidly. The larger part of the grain raised in Manitoba and Saskatchewan goes by rail. roads now to Port Arthur on the north shore of lake Superior and thence by water eastward. You understand that when vavigation cloves, the grain accumulates in | the elevators sill spring. I used 10 thiok that I bad seen elevators and wheat, but when I saw those at Port Arthur and also at Doluth I chavged my wind. Continuing etill farther westward, we come to the great prairie Province of Alberta, of which Edmonton is the capital, 12,000 inhabitants. This Province extends about four buan- dred miles from east to west, and about seven hundred miles from north to south. It is settling up rapidly and a pretty large proportion are from the ‘‘States.’’ Of course wheat is the principal crop, but is is also a coming cattle raising conu- try. These ship westward to Vancouver on the Pacifico, and thence to the Orient. Next in importance to the capital city, come Calgary, Medicine Hat and others. Just across the river from Edmonton is Strathoona, where I saw something that very much impressed me. The Royal mil- itary bad a gathering something like our annual manouvres. Among them was a company of Scottish Highlanders. When [ saw them my mind went back to my young days when I read about the Relief of Lucknow, where it says “Dinoa ye hear the slogan, the Campbell’s are comin’. ”’ Another thing that impressed me there was the Royal mounted band. They first played ‘God Save the King,’ ‘‘Scots Wha Hae mi Wallace Bled,” then ‘‘The Last Hote of Summer,” and others, 1 shall never forget that day, with the British flag everywhere in sight, and the bappy, loyal subjects enjoying their free- dom the same as we do, but I much prefer my native land. Respeotfally, DaxienL McBRIDE. St. Paul, Mion., Jan. 8, 09. ——Bill Nye in his earlier days once ap- proached the manager of a lecture bureau with an application for employment and was asked if he had ever done anything in that line. “Oh, yes," said Bill. ““What have you done ?"’ “Well,” replied Bill, “‘my last job was in a dime museum, sitting in a barrel with the top of my head sticking out—posing as the largest ostrich egg in captivity.” ing to rule themselves under the moss democratic forms of government, and who are demanding certain definite things, which they hope to obtain by building ap a political party, strong enough to accom- plirh their sims by the ballot. In the five countries, France, German Rassia, Eogland and the United Buates, where Socialism is a growing movements, allhongh there are characteristic differeno- es in their tactios, the aim is the same in all. This is shown by a study of their po- lisical ms. There are seven demands which are found in all. 1. (In European countries.) The standing army abolished and replaced by a Saiouel elisa. oe due of war and pence t : 2 Religion a private matter. (In Ea- ropean countries.) Abolition of the State chureh. 3. Frees administration of justice. 4. Free tducation. 5. Political equality between men and women, . Income and property progressive tax- ation, 7. Nationalization of land, industry and communication. In all Socialist platforms there are de- mands, which are called palliatives. These are what are considered reforms, which even under the present capitalist system are of benefit to the working class. There are four of these palliatives which are de- manded in every country. 1. Eight hour work day. 2. Proteciion from injary. 3. Abolition of child labor. 4. Pensions for old age and invalids, The aim of all Socialists is to abolish la- bor which is non-social, to give every able bodied man and woman o nity to work, and to systematize the whole of in- dustry, so that every one who worke shall have the fall retarn of his labor, There are, as in every great movement, two forms of tactics, compromise and no- compromise, called by the Socialists, op- portunities and impossibilities. As the movement grows, these two camns draw vearer together and forget their differences in the desire for unity. In France the movement has been theo- retic, intellectual and revolutionary. In Germany it has been scientifio—a SHEpIo. mise between revolutionary and evolution- In England is has been essentially ary. | evolutionary, the opportunities are in she | majority there. Iv the United Ssates the struggle between rich and poor, between land avd capital bas intensified the class struggle and divided the nation into two hostile camps. The Socialist party of the United States met in Chicago on May 10th, and drew up the vational platform for 1908 It ie in part as follows : THE SOCIALINT PLATYORN. The Socialist party, in national convention as- | sembled, in entering npon the Sampaiga of 1908, again presents itself to the people as the party of the working ¢ and nx stich it appenls for the support of ull workers of the United States and of all citizens who »ympathize with the great and Just eause of Inbor, * * * » . ® * - * The varions reform movements and parties which have sprung up within recent years are but the clumsy expression of widespread lar discontent with the present system of ex tion and graft. They are pot based on an intelli- gent nuderstanding of the historical development of civilization nnd oi the economic and political needs of our time. They are bound to perish as the numerons middle ciuss reform movements of the past have perished. As measures calculated to strengthen the power of the working class in its fignis for the realiza- tion of this nitimate aim, and 10 increase its pow- er of resistance net capitalist o advocate and pledgé ourselves and our e ficers 10 the following program : PROGRAM. We demand immediate Roreromontal relief for unemployed workers by building roads and canals, by restoration of the forests, lama- tion of arid lands, and by extending al other use- fal pubiic works. All laborers on such work shall be emplo; directiy by the government under sn eight-hour work day sud ut the prevailing rate of union wages. ‘The government shall also lend money to states and municipalities without inter- 2st for the purpose of ng on and it shall contribute funds to la organ ons for the puri ose of assisting their unemployed mem. hers, and shall take such other measures withlo its power as will lessen the wides misery of the workers caused by the misrule of the capital. we of- We demand : I. The collective ownership of railroads, tele- graphs, telephones, steamships, and ail other Taki ot transportation and communication, and 2, ‘Ihe collective ownership of all industries which ar» organized on a national seale and in which competition has viriually ceased to exist. 2, The extension of the public domain to in- clude mines, quarries, oil wells, forest« and water er. poe The scientific reforestation of timber lands and the reclamation of swamp lands. The land so reclaimed shall be permanently retained as a part of the publi domain. 5 The lute freedom of press, speech and assemblage, as gnaranteed by the constitution. 6. That religion be treated ax a private matter —n question of individual conscience. 7. The improvement of the industrial condi- tions of the workers : (n) Ky shortening the workday in keeping with the ered productiveness of machinery. (b) By securing to every worker a rest of rot lesa than a day and a half in each week, (¢} Hy securing a more effective inspection of workshops amd factories, d) By forbidding the employment of children under sixteen Sears of Ae. (e) Ry torbiading the interstate transportation of the products of child labor, of convict labor and of «ul unin ted factories, (f) By abolishing official charity and snbstitu- ting in its place compu! insurance against Susmple melt, illness, racutey invalidism, old age and death, 5 ‘The extension of inheritance taxes, gradu- ated in Jioponien to the amount of the bequests and to the nearnes~ of kin. 9. A graduated income lax. 10. Unrestricted and equal suffrage for men and women, the initistive and referendum, pro- portional representation and the right of lL 11. The abolition of the senate. 12. The abolition of the veto power by the President. 13. That the constitution be made amendable by majority vote, 14. Government by majority. In all eleciions where no candidate receives a majority the result should be determined by a second batiot, 15. The enactment of further measures for general edoeation and for the conservation of health. The elevation of the present bureau of edueation into a deparsmen and the creation of a department of public health. 16. The separation of the present bureau of Ia- bor from the department of commerce and and its elevation to the rank of a department. 17. That all judges be elected by the people for short Jeter and that the power to issue in- junctions should be eurbed by immediate legisla- ion, 18. The free administration of justice, 19. ‘That the right of suffrage in aoy state be extended to all citizens of legal age of the United States upon qualification of a nivety days’ resi. dence in that state next ing the day of election, and that registra be not ear- Hap than five days next preceding the day of elec. Such measures of relief ax we may be able to force from capitalism are but a preparation of Eo sl re system of industry, and thus come into their rightful inheritance. ErizaBern M. BLANCHARD.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers