(Continued from last week).
SYNOPSIS
CHAPTER I.—Winton Garrett, twen-
ty-five and just out of college, calls by
appointment on Archie Garrett, his New
York cousin and executor, to receive
is inheritance of $100,000. Archie,
onest, an easy mark and a fool for
uck, assures Winton that he is prac-
tically a millionaire, as he has invested
all but $10,000 in a rubber plantation
fn either the East or West Indies and
$n a controlling interest in the Big
Malopo diamond mine, somewhere or
other in South Africa, sold him as a
special favor by a Dutch promoter
mamed De Witt.
CHAPTER IL—Winton, en route to
fis mine, finds the town of Taungs
wildly excited over a big strike at
Malopo, including the 95-carat “De Witt
diamond.” Two coach passengers are
@& disreputable old prospector, Daddy
Beaton, and his daughter Sheila. On
the journey a passenger, who turns out
to be De Witt himself, insults Sheila.
Winton fights De Witt and knocks him
out. Sheila tells him to turn back. She
says that her father is a broken Eng-
1ish army officer, who has killed a man
and is therefore in De Witt’'s power,
that De Witt is all-powerful, being
backed by Judge Davis, president of
the diamond syndicate and also the
president magistrate and judge of the
native protectorate.
CHAPTER IIL.—Winton finds Malopo
fn a turmoil, both over the strike and
the theft of the De Witt diamond. Win-
ton foolishly discloses his identity to
8am Simpson, a Jamaican negro, sub-
editor of the local newspaper. He more
wisely confides in Ned Burns, watch-
man at the Big Malopo, who tells him
that the syndicate has planned to take
eontrol of the mine the next morning.
CHAPTER IV.—Winton finds that
Sheila is cashier at the restaurant. He
gffers his friendship. She rebuffs him.
an Vorst, a notorious diamond thief,
one of De Witt's men, slips the stolen
Pe Witt diamond into Winton's pocket
and two policemen club Winton and
arrest him. He escapes them and
when at his last gasp Sheila takes him
into her house, bathes his wounds and
saves him from his pursuers.
CHAPTER V.—The next morning
Sheila offers Winton help in escaping
from Malopo. He convinces her with
difficulty that he did not steal the De
Witt diamond and that he is president
of the Big Malopo company. Bruised
and blood-stained he runs across town,
breaks by force into the company meet-
ing, and aided by a popular demonstra-
tion proves his identity, blocks the re-
organization and takes control. He
asks Sheila to marry him. She laughs
hysterically and refuses him.
CHAPTER VI—Winton hires Seaton
as compound manager and develops Big
Malopo. Judge Davis, a philosophical
old hypocrite of unknown past, offers
him the syndicate’s co-operation. “Oth-
erwise, he says, ‘“we’ll smash you, you
d—d young fool.” '
CHAPTER VIL—Winton,
by a scurrilous newspaper article about
Sheila and himself, knocks Sam down
and publicly threatens Judge Davis. He
finds Sheila about to elope with De Witt,
to save her father. He horsewhips De
Witt. Sheila again refuses to marry
him and says she is going away, never
to see him or her father again.
CHAPTER VIIL.—Winton hires Sam
as night watchman. Van Vorst’s gang
steal the De Witt diamond. Winton
ursues Van Vorst, who escapes with
he big stone.
CHAPTER IX.—Winton is rescued by
Sheila, on her way to a native village.
There she kisses an old woman, only
partly white, and says, “This is my
mother.” He again asks her to marry
him. She refuses him, because of the
race bar. Heartsick, he sets out for
Malopo with a native guide.
infuriated
CHAPTER X
The Judge Wins the Race.
A horse was tied to a cactus tree in
a small dry gully that ran along the
edge of the desert. The native held
the stirrup for Winton, who climbed
painfully into the saddle, and they set
off together.
The sun rose higher, sending down
its scorching rays upon the sand, from
which the reflected heat-waves beat
upward, swathing the rider as if in a
steaming shroud. Winton could hard-
ly keep his seat. He felt dizzy and
weak from the blow, from the long
night ride, and from the shock of
Sheila’s revelation.
They had traveled perhaps a third
of the distance to Malopo when he
reined in his horse and slid from the
saddle into the sand. He could go no
further. And he lay down, staring up
at the sky without any especial in-
terest in anything.
He watched the Hottentot turn and
come back toward him. The man's
clicking interrogations had no mean-
ing for him. The Hottentot drew off
a few paces and seemed to be medi-
tating.
Then he kneeled down beside Win-
ton and went through his pockets. He
took his watch and purse, opened the
latter, found several sovereigns in it,
and transferred them to his own
pocket. He stood over Winton swing-
ing his knobkerrie meditatively.
Winton watched him, still without
the least interest in what he was going
to do. The native was evidently pon-
dering whether to bring the knob of
the heavy stick down upon his skull,
and end his life, or to leave him to
die in the desert. Presently prudence
conquered. With a succession of
grunts and clicks he mounted the
horse, thrust his feet far into the
stirrups, and set out across the
desert.
Winton, lying on the sand, watched
bim until he was swallowed up in the
dancing heat-waves. Once he reap-
peared, a gigantic figure, outlined in
mirage upon the sky above the hori-
zon. Then he vanished, aad In place
VICTOR.
{| ROUSSEATL
COPYRIGHT 4 W.G.CHAPMAN
roofs of a town.
ture. Surely that was Malopo, and
surely it was very near. He saw the
busy market square, and the great
white-capped ox-wagons, drawn by
their spans of long horns, moving
through the dust whirls.
He must reach Malopo. It couta
not be many miles away. And the
awful thirst that was consuming him
brought him to his feet and sent him
staggering toward the pictured town.
He stumbled through the dust, his
eyes taking in the scene avidly, He
was searching for the location of the
Continental across the busy square,
All his material aims had dwindled to
a pitcher of cold water and a dark
place in which to sleep.
Suddenly he stopped in consterna-
tion. Across the scene he saw a train
moving. Puffs of white smoke came
from the engine. The train stopped,
the engine, detached, went on alone
puffing into the void, and disappeared
Then Winton recognized this vision
It was not Malopo, but Taungs.
And even as he looked it vanished
and the scorched desert lay before
bim. And far away, against the hori
zon, he saw the tiny speck that was
the Hottentot on his horse, riding
away.
Winton looked wildly about him
Far away were the outlines of the
hills that sheltered Sheila. A des
perate longing came over him to re
turn, seek her, gain her, and dwell
He turned.
Then, far across the sands, thevs
sprang suddeniy into view a lake, sel
among ‘green pastures. with trees
ahout it, and a farmhouse. A cool
nreath from the water seemed to react
him across the desert. He began tt
stagger toward this mew vision, with
his arms outstretched.
Although his brain told him that
this, too, was a mirage, he could not
but follow the lure.
And, believing against belief that
he might actually be nearing it, he
fought his way onward, as If the
desert were a physical enemy to be
overcome, stumbling and falling, and
rising again. His tongue clove to the
roof of his mouth, and the blood in his
veins seemed to have turned to vitriol.
He was down again and could not
rise. He looked up at the vision on
the horizon and shook his fist furious-
ly. He knew that he was beaten, that
death awaited him: but he would die
fighting. Everything that had hap-
pened to him since he reached Malope
seemed like this: illusion, golden
prospects, prospects in love, in busi-
ness, toward which he had groped in
blind trustfulness, while in reality
staggering through an arid desert of
failure.
He sank down, but in his delirium
ne was still running across the sands,
seeking an unattainable haven; then
absolute unconsciousness enveloped
him.
It seemed centuries later when he
opened his eyes, to discover himself
in his own room in the cottage upon
the claim.
He thought he was dreaming; and
when at last he convinced himself of
the reality of the four walls he im-
agincd that he had dreamed every-
thing, from the assault to Sheila.
Then the honest face of Sam ap-
peared before him, like a dusky half-
meon; and Winton had never seen
Sam with so much pleasure in his life
hefore.
“What’s happened?’ he asked.
“It's all right—it's all right, Mr.
Garrett,” said Sam, putting a cup of
water to his lips. Winton drank
gratefully and, too weak to make in-
quiries, went to sleep again.
Later in the day he awoke, feeling
more like himself. Sam was still at
his bedside, in exactly the same posi-
tion that he had occupied before.
“Sam, tell me what's happened,”
said Winton in perplexity. “Did I
dream about the burglary?”
“No, indeed, Mr. Garrett. But that’s
all over and done with. If you'll go
to sleep, sir—"
“Did I ride out into the desert?”
“Well—yes, Mr, Garrett. But you're
back home now, and that's all—"
“Tell me how I got here at once,
Sam.”
“Well, Mr. Garrett,” said Sam re-
luctantly, “I happened to find you in
the desert—"
“How far out?”
“About ten miles, sir. You were
lost and you'd fainted, and your head
was cracked open. You wanted to
fight me, sir. I had quite a little diffi
culty getting you home, sir. And you
fell off the horse twice. You gave me
this, Mr. Garrett,” he continued, point-
ing to one optic, which Winton no-
ticed was discolored. “But that’s all
over and—"
“When, Sam?’
“Two days ago, Mr. Winton. You
see, your head had been cracked open,
of him appeared the corrugated on,
Winton struggled into a sitting pos-
there an outlaw, as Seaton had done
ble. I don’t think I'd have got you
home, Mr. Garrett, if you hadn't sud-
denly collapsed. The doctor was quite
doubtful until this morning.”
“Sam,” said Winton humbly,
! f shake hands with you?”
\ After that Winton
W lay very still, think-
\
ANN
Rut \ ing of Sheila
\ \ NT 9
AR
NLL!
ton lay very still, thinking of Sheila.
It was not until the following day
that he learned what had happened.
The police had discovered from the
evidence of natives in the adjoining
compound that Kash had been engaged
| for weeks in the excavation of the
tunnel. The expectation at the start
seemed to have been that Winton
would make his headquarters in Ma-
lopo. His presence on the claim
proved disconcerting; and since mur:
der would have meant the certainty of
ultimate arrest, and the prescribeu
penalty, Van Vorst had resorted to the
chloroform outrage to avoid the com:
mission of a capital crime.
However, Burns had heard the mer
in the cottage, and had exchanged
shots with Kash, killing the Armen:
fan, but suffering a serious head in-
jury from a blow by Van Vorst’s re
volver butt. It was believed that 8
piece of bone was pressing on the
speech center, for, though fully con:
scious and considered out of danger
Ned could only utter meaningless
sounds, and was consequently unabl¢
to describe what had occurred.
They had tried to get his evidence
in writing, but the marks that he
made upon the paper were meaning
less.
An inquest had been held promptly
Burns had been exonerated, and a ver-
dict of justifiable homicide returnea.
Winton’s evidence was taken at his
bedside for the information of the
Bechuanaland police, who hoped #0 | 4nd go to Davis for a loan. One of the |
round up the fugitive.
Van Vorst’s action was the most
inexplicable part of the affair. The
general opinion in Malopo was that
A PO
and you weren't altogether responsi- |
ony |
i
Sam's black hand went out and met (iimout the most careful searching.”
Winton’s white one. After that Win-
“Well, Sam?”
“And so, sir, I believe that by treat-
ing the Bantu as a man and a brother,
he can be aroused to ethical idealism.”
“Well, we'll see,” answered Winton.
“For Heaven's sake go slow, and above
all don’t let them leave the compound
When at last Winton was able to
| leave the cottage, he went at once to
the compound, to discover that dis-
| cipline was practically in abeyance.
|
|
i
|
i
| The negroes stared at him insolently
as they dawdled over their tasks. Win-
ton could not reprove Sam very sharply
in view of his obligations to him. He
8id, however, put him back in his old
position as night watchman.
Sam was almost tearful, asserting
that his plan was just on the verge of
success, and Winton, to comfort him,
left the sphere of his duties a little un-
defined, a situation of which Sam was
to take the fullest advantage.
Winton realized that to put a negro
in charge of negroes was a hopeless
proposition. The natives would not
obey one of their own color. He en-
gaged a new compound manager to
take Seaton’s place, a little man named
Josephs, tough and wiry, who had been
favorably recommended to him some
time before, and was known to be effi-
cient and honest.
Josephs was one of those little men
who are inspired with volcanic energy
and passions. Like the late Barney
Barnato, of South African fame, he
was a great fighter. Winton watched
him tackle the biggest Bechuana of the
| gang and put him to sleep in the first
the man, known for years as the most
crafty and cautious purchaser of
stolen stones in the country, had sud-
denly developed a streak of vicious-
ness and adventure. There had been
talk of sending a body of police into
the native territories in pursuit of
him, but ultimately it was decided to
telegraph all the border posts to watch
for him. Through one of these Van
Vorst must eventually pass on his
way back to civilization.
What surprised Malopo most, per-
haps, was the fact that Van Vorst had
gone to such pains in order to secure a
single stone of no extraordinary value '
—at least, not of enough to make its
possession worth outlawry. Winton
puzzled over this for some time until
Sheila’s explanation suddenly came
back into his memory.
If Davis and De Witt had plotted
the robbery, in order to get him into
their power, they would stop at noth-
ing; and they must have some knowl-
edge of the claim’s value which he
lacked.
Being strictly forbidden to leave his
bed for some days, on account of the
fever induced by his wound and sun-
stroke, Winton fumed and fretted in
his bed. He was sure everything in
the compound was going wrong, in
spite of Sam’s assurances that he was
personally surpervising things.
| Seaton had disappeared, and every-
body suspected him of having be-
trayed the whereabouts of the stone
to the conspirators. His defection was
a serious loss; Winton would almost
have forgiven the old man if he had
returned.
“You are sure everything is going
right, Sam?” inquired Winton for the
| tenth time.
“Indeed, yes, sir. I believe, Mr. Gar-
rett, that you will have an agreeable
shock when you discover the success
| of my new methods,” answered the
negro.
| “What's that?
Winton demanded.
“I have introduced a few changes in
management, sir, based upon the theory
that the Bantu is essentially a human.
I am endeavoring to introduce the idea
of social co-operation among our la-
borers.”
“All right,” groaned Winton, feeling
that remonstrance was hopeless.
“Don’t go too strong, though, amd
watch the devils carefully for stolen
stones.”
“That, Mr. Garrett, is where my plan
enters,” replied Sam with dignity. “It
is my belief, sir, that the so-called
primal instincts of the Bantu race,
which is erroneously supposed to dis-
' regard the distinction, In its finer
shades, between meum and tuum, are
| as mythical as the legend which falsely
ascribes to it an abnormal taste for the
gallinaceous avian of the edible do-
mesticated species.”
What methods?”
round, and felt that Sam’s work bade
fair to be undone. He went away sat-
isfied that his affairs were in good
hands.
The news of the washing was most
discouraging. The water supply was
consistently meager, and nothing had
been found in the small amount of rock |
that had been pulverized except a few
tiny stones, of practically no value for
jewelers’ purposes. Malopo no longer
pelieved in the claim, the rush had
stopped, and there was a considerable
exodus in the coaches that left for
Taungs.
And yet Winton was positive that
the claim was a bonanza, and that the
syndicate knew it. He began to look
about him for a loan.
He soon discovered that it was im-
possible to raise capital in Malopo in
the face of the syndicate’s opposition.
Besides, the value of the Big Malopo
claim was consistently decried. In the
reaction following the extravagant
faith that had been placed In it, men
used the name of the property as a
synonym for anvthing worthless
Malopo as a term of scorn. Winton
overheard that, and knew that the syn-
dicate’s antagonism stooped to the
storehouses may be destroyed, say by
a blow strong enough to rupture the
brain tissue without destroying the
vital centers. Then the corresponding
faculty is unable to express itself,
“Now the speech center is one of the
most interesting of all, because it is |
the most important, and we have it !
mapped out exactly. Every human
being speaks by means of a little tract
called Broca’s convolution. There's a !
reading center and a writing center, a !
music-reading center, a fiddle-playing
center—probably ; and so on. It's just
like putting a series of telephones into
a street of houses. There's even a |
French center and a German center,
and a Hottentot center, formed in the
brain of the linguist. And if you |;
smash one particular telephone, of !
course nothing can come through. |
“Burns has had his speaking and
writing centers smashed. In the case
of a very young person there would be
hope of recovery, because we use only
half of our brains. Most of us use the
left half. A child, whose left speak-
ing center had been destroyed, could
construct a new center in the un- |
used right half of its brain. That's
because its brain is so plastic. But
that can hardly be done after thirty, |
and practically never after reaching
middle life. Why, you know yourself
that it is impossible for a middle-aged
person to pick up a mew language as
a child can. Well, Burns must be
sixty. His case is hopeless, though he
will be as well as ever physically in
a little while.” |
That seemed to be the case. Burns
was recovering rapidly, but there was
no sign of any return of the faculty of
speech. Winton was greatly worried
about the old man; he went constantly
to the hospital, and sent him all sorts
of dainties. But he seldom stayed
long at Ned's bedside. The pathetic
look in his eyes, the constant effort to
convey some meaning, and the Bible
passages, of which Winton could make
neither head nor tail, were too dis-
tressing.
It had now become inevitable that
Winton should approach Judge Davis
on ‘the subject of a loan. He braced
himself to the invidious task and went
i to the judge's office. |
He found Davis alone at his desk.
The old man looked up, nodded in a
friendly way, as if nothing had passed,
and offered Winton a seat, which was,
however, declined.
“Well, my dear friend, I have
thought that I should se you soon,” |
he said. “I am humiliated and
ashamed of Malopo when I think that
you should have been subjected to such
' an outrage. The loss of the stone, the
Even the katfirs called each other >
least weapon that could be used against |
him.
' come to you.
He would have to swallow his pride
independent shareholders had hinted
pointedly at court action unless the de-
velopment of the claim proceeded with
greater energy.
Before taking this step, however,
Winton, as soon as he was well, went
to see Ned in the hospital. He found
‘the old man propped up in bed. reading
the Bible, which he was able to do as
well as ever. Ned knew him at once
and nodded and gurgled.
“Well, Ned, how are you feeling?”
inquired Winton, sitting down by the
bedside.
Burns understood perfectly, but the
flood of meaningless syllables that
poured from his throat conveyed no
sense whatever. It was evident that
Burns was desperately anxious to tell
something, and that he felt his position
keenly.
Winton saw, too, that the old man
was not quite certain whether his re-
marks conveyed any meaning or not,
and he looked at him so hopefully
when he had finished speaking that
Winton could hardly bear to let him
realize the truth. But Burns did
realize it, and two tears trickled down
his cheeks upon the open book.
Winton produced a sheet of paper
and a pencil, and handed them to Ned,
who, resting the Bible on his knee, be-
gan to scribble with this as a backing
for the sheet.
He handed the result to Winton, but
hopelessly, for he could read that he
had written nonsense. It consisted of
a number of words and syllables,
strung together, but without the small-
est intelligent significance. Suddenly
Ned snatched away the paper and tore
it into pieces, and flung himself back
moodily upon his pillow.
The doctor, a young graduate from
Edinburgh, had seen the incident. He
drew Winton away.
“His mind's clear,” said Winton.
“As clear as yours or mine.”
“And he understands what is said to
dim.”
“REvery word.”
“What's the trouble then?”
“The speech and writing centers in
the brain are affected,” answered the
doctor. “We have them marked out
very accurately, you know. I expected
this before Burns recovered conscious-
ness, as soon as I saw the location of
the wound.”
“Bone pressing on them?”
“No. If there were I slould have
operated. The blow on the head rup-
tured an artery, and the rush of blood
destroyed some of the brain tissues.”
“Will he get well?”
The doctor's expression answered
Winton before his words.
“You see,” he explained, “every ac-
quired human faculty has its area In
the brain. Not the moral character, as
the laity are apt to think. A man
isn’t truthful, or brave, or generous
because he has ‘bumps,’ as the
phrenologists suppose. But what we
learn in life is stored up and repro-
duced when needed in certain definite
quarters. In rare cases one of these
|
i
‘it, to compel me to.”
me
material loss, is far less than the
moral indignity.”
“Judge, there is pv need to com-
miserate with me,” said Winton an-
grily. “You can guess why I have
I am ready to accept the
proposal you made me. Kindly deal
with me on a business basis, for we
understand each other very well”
“Dear me, are you quite sure you
know me, Mr. Garrett?’ inquired the
judge blandly.
“It's immaterial.”
“Quite so,” responded Davis nodding
his head briskly. “Then we will con-
duct our business on a business basis,
as you wish. So you couldn’t raise
that capital in Malopo?”
“No, and you knew it all the time.”
“I suspected it,” the judge admitted.
“You and I, my friend, know what a
valuable property we own. Dut Ma-
lopo doesn’t know it. A little—just a
little more development, and 1
shouldn't be surprised If we scoop up
the stones by the pailful. Kindly fill
out this transfer for thirty-three
shares, and I'll write you a check for
two thousand six hundred and forty
pounds, representing four-fifths of
their par value. I'll waive the brok-
er's fees. The money to be repaid in
one month, or the shares to become the
property of the syndicate.”
“Three months.” corrected Winton.
“One month,” answered the judge!
courteously. “My fraternal offer was
made some time ago, Mr. Garrett.” ° |
Winton sat down at last and looked
at the judge’s shrewd old face. That
meant the certain loss of his control- |
ling interest. All the rock that had |
been brought up had already been |
picked over. With only a month's |
grace, it was practicaliy impossible
to hope to make repayment, unless a '
stone of great value should be discov-
ered.
That was the least likely thing in
the world. The diamonds, if diamonds
there were, were distributed at a
deeper level, and it would mean
months before the diggers could reach
the matrix of the pipe in which they
lay.
Then it required weeks of disintegra- |
tion under sunlight before the rock
could be thoroughly broken up and
tested.
“You might as well buy my shares
outright,” said Winton “angrily.
“I am willing,” answered the judge.
“No, I'll accept your terms and make
a fight,” said Winton. “It's a sort of
cat and mouse game, Judge Davis. It
1 go ahead and develop I have to bor-
row from you; if I don’t you'll issue a
court injunction or whatever you call
“You think I am unjust, Mr. Gar-
rett?”’
“Let's call it greedy, judge.” |
“Has it occurred to you, Mr. Gar-
rett, that the syndicate was the orig-
inal holder of the claim? We are only
taking back what should never have
passed out of our hands. You can sell
to us, or you can have a run for your
=. my friend—a month's run,”
“I'll run,” said Winton, putting has
name i the blank transfer.
The judge put it back in his desk.
“Mr. Garrett, you interest me very
much,” he said.
“Well, you interest me,” sald Win-
Texan
A. TA TRA ER,
ton. “You are the most extraordinarily
brazen hypocrite that I have ever met.”
“Now do you think that?’ inquired
Judge Davis, apparently in surprise.
“I have heard that said about me be-
fore.”
“It didn’t worry you, did it?”
“Not in the least, my friend. Hy
pocrisy, young man, is a mere tribute
to the forces that rule the world.”
“What are they?”
“Greed, selfishness, and injustice.”
“You think there are no higher mo
tives?’ asked Winton, amazed at the
judge's frankness.
“Undoubtedly, my dear sir. Every
quality has its opposite, of course. But
note this: the good qualities are those
of the fools and failures.”
“ «What shall it profit a man if he
gain the whole world and lose his own
soul? ”
“What shall it profit a man if, hav-
ing lost all that makes life dear, he
loses the rest? Listen, young man!
. fy, The money will be
repaid one month
p, from today, or
# the shares pass
'to the syndicate.
/
J
ol
7)
5
Twenty-five years ago I was an ideal
istic, middle-aged fool. Look!”
(Continued next week).
THIS MAK A BRAVE “SUCKER”
Spent Four Years Running
Down the Crooks Who Had
Swindled Him,
A medal should be struck in honor
of the Texas man who spent four
years running down a gang of crooks
who had defrauded him. Besides
showing unusual bravery—unusual for
the man who has been a sucker—he
rendered conspicuous public service,
says the Milwaukee Journal,
Estimates say that the American
public pays a toll of $1,000,000,000 a
vear to swindlers who use the mails
to defraud. Then there are the fake
stock schemes, the fake land selling
and all other ways of separating a
man from his money. The tribute to
the thieves goes on despite thie bes:
efforts of the post office and the bet-
ter business bureaus. For the lure of
the chain letter, the offer of Lone eiu-
ployment in a field where the victim
has had no training and the chance
to get wealth in the oil fields seems
about as strong as the lure of the bait
for an inquisitive muskellunge.
The confidence man is aided by that
trait in human nature which makes a
victim loath to admit that he has been
a sucker. He is more likely to promise
himself that he will be wiser next time
and pocket his loss. Many swindlers
aim at collecting small sums only, on
the theory that the loser will not make
a row. But there is sense in the re-
quest of the Post Office department
that every sum lost by such schemes
be reported, even though it be but 10
cents. If all who were defrauded
. went after the confidence man reso-
lutely enough he would find things too
lively for his prosperity.
FINLAKD A BILINGUAL LAND
Both Swedish and Finnish Tongues
Used, the Latter Being in
Ascendant.
To the average traveler the matter
of language is apt to be the most vital
aspect of any foreign country. Tri-
lingual Switzerland is familiar even
to the impoverished continental vis-
itor, but bilingual Finland may be
more of a surprise. Nor will the
fact that the choice of languages is
confined to Swedish and Finnish
make the trip any easier.
Formerly the Swedish tongue was
in the ascendant among the cultivated
classes, having been the vehicle of ex-
pression of the famous poet, Rune-
berg. Now, however, the pendulum is
swinging the other way, and you will
find even Swedish people adopting
Finnish names.
Of course, all educated persons
speak both languages inter:l angeably,
even at the family dinner table. In
the rural districts, however, it is dif-
ferent. Groups of Swedish peasants in
the south and west parts of the coun-
try and in the Aaland islands speak
; only (heir native ton<ue, and the rest
of the peasants confine themselves to
Finnish,
The writers who used Swedish were
the first ones who extolled Finland as
a nation. Runeberg was followed by
Tepelius, another poet and story
writer, a particular favorite with
children, and Fredrik Cyvnaeus de-
voted himself to history. This activity
met with a response from literary men
who preferred Finnish, so that now
equal bodies of characteristically
Finnish work have sprung up in both
languages.—Living Age.
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