ilututstrial (Unrpuratimts liatu* Strarhcii :B>atVty Suite By SAMUEL UNTERMYER. Wcll-Known Corporation Lawyer. §§ We have reached the line of safety in corporate combinations. The working out of these great in ) dustrial combinations in the United States has clearly shown the professional financier what the extreme frontiers of his powers are in that direction. Corpora tions have become to» vast, 100 clumsy, too remote N from the original guiding hands and controlling brains for continued success in the competition with individual effort. In my judgment the very big industrial corpora tions will gradually grow weaker, will fall into what might be called a state of senility. They contain the elements of their own destruction. That much, at least, is plain. I refer to those in which the element of individuality is disappear ing, which applies to most of them. There are some where the element of individual interest is retained. In those cases their power will in crease, but they are few in number. 1 know of only three such cases in which combination has been a great benefit and has served merely to accentuate the great ability and resourcefulness of the guiding spirits. So long as the men who created and shaped these original establish ments —the men responsible for their success and familiar with their working—so long as these men retained the ownership by reason of their stock holdings, this centralization of business was on a sound and per manent basis. But matters did not slop there. The bankers gradually began to be interested. They offered some of the new securities for sale and found them to be profitable. Presently the public began to take the secur ities in immense quantities. Then a fatal tendency developed. Manu facturers could not resist the temptation to sell their securities at hand some prices. They sold their holdings to the public. The public became the owners of the corporations. The men who had created the business withdrew. This is, in a rough, round way, the real explanation of the weak ness and temporary character of our great industrial stock companies. With the original personal force, personal incentive and personal experi ence eliminated from their various establishments they cannot compete with individual enterprise based upon real and not fictitious capitaliza tion. Stockholders want their dividends. The stockholders want to see the market values of their securities held up. If the president dares to follow what he knows to be a prudent, necessary course, if the dividends are cut or passed—even for the prupose of securing greater returns in the future; a movement of the stockholders may presently overthrow him from his place. This is one of the unfortunate conditions surround ing and often controlling the management of our overgrown industrial systems. If I had to answer A Unman sn>otiintt SRI _ » 4 *\ - 4 _ make a good presi- IX ;||osisibuitlJ dent?" I should be obliged to say No, By MRS. ALICE PARKER LESSER, ... (1 rr ~ with the qualification Lawyer. 1 that the comparison is with the kind of men whom we have chosen for the office in this country. But why would not woman make a good president ? That is the important corollarv of the answer that she would not. It is because woman by nature is unfitted for great administrative and executive responsibility? Ob viously not, since the world's history furnishes illustrious examples of the contrary. A woman to-day would not make a good president for the identi cal reason that no man would make a good president who has been deprived, as woman has been and for as long as woman has been, of practically all participation in political life and all political responsi bility. Will there be women who will make good presidents? That is another question, and one to which 1 give the ready answer, Yes. Woman's political capacity may be denied at the present time, but her capability is undoubted. There are many administrative functions in political life which she would perform far better than man; there arc none which, as president of the United States, she would not per form as well, given the experience and practice which men enjoy. 1 do not mean by this that the time will come when there will be so many women fitted for the office of president as there are men, but I believe that the exceptional woman of the future will compare favorably with the exceptional man, and I believe that the average woman of the future will be as competent to exercise all the rights and duties of average citizenship as the average man. There are certain executive duties which, it may be granted, will always be more appropriately performed by man, but there are other administrative duties for which I believe woman better fitted than man. Why not a man and a M /> woman president ? It has been claimed She IJiuurr JW^, , l Uo T, . j? *(♦ is true with some quali n I tlt l* Jr 111 fications. Great men By BISHOP SAMUEL FALLOWS. D. D. ' ' ' |U n I )rcSlntatlv(S <>r incarnation of great principles. They give expression in voice and deed to the thoughts and ideas of a people, a race or an age. Ihe work of soeiity is shaped and directed by the few. The king? of finance rule the mone\ market. 1 In - captains of industry die ate tc the commercial world. The wheel within the wheel of all the labor or ganizations ha> one hub and a 112 w central spokes. To the two or tlirn in e\ ponding responsibility. CAMERON COUNTY PRESS, THURSDAY, DECEMBER 21, 1905. g KEEPING CHRISTMAS $ By HENRY VAN DYKE. \\l WiT IS a good thing to observe Christmas day. The mere 90^ #*l J marking of times and seasons when men agree to stop ijl work and make merry together is a wise and whole «; jf 7 some custom. It helps one to feel the supremacy of J/,. 99 & the common life over the individual life. It reminds a fa\J Vj[ man to set his own little watch, now and then, by the f\ great clock of humanity. J,7 3\ \ But there is a better thing than the observance of Christmas u day, and that is, keeping Christmas. jSf wr Are you willing to forget what you have done for other people 11/' and to remember what other people have done for you ; to ignore JT what the world owes you and to think what you owe the world ; to VJ put your rights in the background and your duties in the middle distance and your chances to do a little more than your duty in the , HP foreground; to see that your fellow men are just as real as you *7 vA are, and try to look behind their faces to their hearts, hungry for J7 JEr joy ;to own that probably the only good reason for your existence vis is not what you are going to get out of life, but what you are going to give to life; to close your book of complaints against the man- V© y\ agement of the universe and look around you for a place where you rtf* \<{l can sow a few seeds of happiness—are you willing to do these Wv j|f things even for a day? Then you can keep Christmas. M juf Are you willing to stoop down and consider the needs and the Tr aY desires of little children ;to remember the weakness and loneliness Vf Wr of people who are growing old; to stop asking how much your r/g friends love you and ask yourself whether you love them enough ; YJ. to bear in mind the things that other people have to bear on their nV hearts; to try to understand what those who live in the same house with you really want, without waiting for them to tell you; to trim \/Z your lamp so that it will give more light and less smoke, and to vj/ carry it in front so that your shadow will fall behind you; to make F a grave for your ugly thoughts and a garden for your kindly feelings, with the gate open—are you willing to do these things Wl y\> even for a day? Then ycu can keep Christmas. T yO M Are you willing to believe that love is the strongest thing in )m yx the world, —stronger than hate, stronger than evil, stronger than Ty death, —and that the blessed life which began in Bethlehem nine- Jy QS teen hundred years ago is the image and brightness of the Eternal Love ? Then you can keep Christmas. ' yjr Qj And if you keep it for a day, why not always? VM But you can never keep it alone. Y* Youth's Companion. gjV BENEATH THE MISTLETOE. Origin of One of the Happiest Customs of Christmas Day Is Traced Back to "Conqueror." The origin of one of the happiest cus toms of Christmas, which has been al lowed to lapse with the passing years— that of kissing under the mistletoe —is traced back to the "coming over of the i conqueror." Washington Irving re- j minded us that the mistletoe is still j hung up in farmhouses and kitchens all ! over England; "and the young men [ have the privilege of kissing the girls j under it, plucking each time a berry i from the bush". When the berries are j all plucked the privilege ceases." At j one time, it is said, the youth could i claim a kiss for each berry he picked, ! but unless there were a great many berries and very few pretty maids such j a liberty would have to be used with moderation. Nares says that the j maiden who was not kissed under the ! mistletoe at Christmas would not be married during the coming year. A strange superstition prevails in ; many English families in connection ; with the Christmas holly. Before mid- j night on New Year's eve every vestige ; of holly must be removed, or ill-luck j will be sure to fall upon the house. Tha : inference to be drawn from this is that the New Year must be entered upon in j all seriousness, with nothing to recall the festivities. According to the old-established rule, the holly should not be taken down un til after the twelfth night. REPENTANT. n«iO«MT Fugitive Turkey—"l'm tired of hid ing out in the cold. 1 wonder if it's j too late togo in for Christmas?" — ' Chicago Daily News. Heaviest Trndo Before Xmas. Dealers in raro oins and stamps ' ami other similar cur'os always ilo their heaviest trade of th«» year Just before Christ inns. This i* because so uiany curios are sold by needy people to provide money for Christiiius tea Uvtltos. Liked the Old Way Beet. "I'a. I've wrote Saiit> Claus u uoth' r letter." "What about tirorgl»l" "I tub* hint he mustn't >im. "What makes your father look so blue to niisht?" *'B ■ *!>' Somebody thoughtlessly mailtl«t:i: l the fact that Cbrintiut* it COUllli*." C'bii U*|> I'eet CHRISTMAS OF PURITANS. After Time of Queen Bess Birthday of Christ Was Made Occasion for Mad Revelry. More and more after the time ol Queen Bess was Christmas made an oc casion for mad revelry instead of a joy j ous Christian celebration. Finally that part of the English peo j pie called the Puritans, who had become ! disgusted with the growing foolishness !of the Christmas celebration, got parlia j ment to prohibit Christmas festivities | of any sort. And for ten years the only ! way Christmas was celebrated was by a j fast. Even for merely decorating their i church with evergreens the trustees ol i St. Margaret's (Westminster) church, I in London, were placed under arrest. The Puritans went entirely too far, | you see. in their sternness, and, natur ally, the people rebelled. So they be | gan celebrating Christmas secretly at | home with all sorts of festivities. And, I because they did it secretly, they felt as j if they were very sinful. "When the ' church refused to use her pleasant nests | Satan stole them and made them ; snares." So people said at that time; or, ; as other people put it: "Father Christ j mas was let in at the back door." ! A little later, when the Puritans lost their political power in England and i hail to seek a refuge elsewhere, many of them, as you know, came to America. Bringing with them, as they did, their stern prejudice against festivals, they completely ignored Christmas for a long, long time. Their children and great-grandchil dren, however, did not inherit their prejudice so strongly, and then, too. they were influenced by the Dutch colonists in New Amsterdam (now New York), who always kept a very merry, but per fectly respectable, Christmas. So, at last, Puritan New England "came around," and permitted Christ mas to be celebrated once again in all her homes with "moderate festivities and rejoicing after attendance at the place where God is preached." Small Wonder. Aunt Emily (telling little Johnnie a story)— Now. early on Christmas morning this bad boy got out of bed and ran over to the mantel where he had hung up his stocking. He found it hanging just where he had left it; but it was empty. Can you tell me why it was empty, Johnnie why that bad boy found not even a piece of candy in his stocking on Christmas morning? Little Johnnie (who has had experi ence) —Because he had swiped every thing in the night.—Brooklyn Life. Careless of Santa Claus. "Little Hilly Billions Is crying as if hU | heart will break." said one nurse maid. "What's the matter?" asked theo,hcr. "He's jealous of little Tommy Tril lions next do..r. He thinks the railroad bonds Tommy got in his Christmas Mocking will pay bigger dividends than the corporation stock that Santa C)au* left him." Washington Star. Ancient Superstition. There is a curious old superstition thut nine holly-leave* tied In a hand kerchief with nine knots, und placed under the | lllnw on Christinas night, will cnhi' Ho* sleeper to dream of hi or her future wife or husband. Small Oift Best. Ilntler a small klft where love Is than a codly present for tht sake ot Itelnii In ths swim. "Plum' Full." Plenty uf Christina* pudding is like , ly to make one fssl plum fail. A Christmas Souvenir By FRANK H. SWEET STEVENS f| was walking slowly on | .11 Ormond Beach, gazing 1 E 1 iKtlessly at the white | sand dunes or out L I across the sea < an( l OG * It nPawßr' 1 casionally pausing to pick up a shell, which "1 s ' ie was a ' ,nost sure I lo cast as '^ e I ently a moment later. She was stopping at the Ormond, anil a car riage was now waiting her signal at a notch in the dunes which marked the road. On the sand ridge above the road was the Coquina hotel, isolated and lacking paint, but having a reputation for good viands and excellent table service. It was popular with those who desired quiet and bathing, and there were even now a number enjoying the surf just as though it wore not the day before Christmas, and along the beach be tween them and the hotel weie a dozen or more children, some playing in the water and some in the sand. Mrs. Bigelow Stevens paused, and gazed at them with dimming eyes. She had lost her own little girl but a few months before, and for that rea son she was here; not to forget, but to find new scenes to awaken her in terest. Presently a child of five or six separated from her companions, and came racing up the beach in pursuit of a hat which was rolling merrily along before a gust of wind. Mrs. Stevens reached out her parasol and intercept ed the runaway. "Thank you!" gasped the little girl, out of breath, but looking up with a roguish smile on lier bright face. "I shall whip it when I get home." Then, instead of returning to her compan ions, she grasped a finger of her new friend. "May I walk with you?" she asked, beginning to swing along as though the permission was granted, She was silent for some minutes, her lips tremulous with recollections of the past, and during that time the little girl made excursions from her finger to investigate escaping crabs and cu rious shells, and even the last efforts of waves that sent long lines of shallow water curving up toward their feet. At length Mrs. Stevens' lips grew firmer, and she looked down. "I suppose your mother is here," 6he said. The child in her turn became grave. "I haven't any mamma," she an swered; "and my papa doesn't walk with me like he used to." She hesi tated a little, and then went on, with childish frankness: "He—he talks loud to me sometimes, and his face gets red, and—and he strikes me. I don't have anybody to play with now." That evening Mr. Stevens was look ing over some new curiosities he had purchased. He did not care much for such things, but this winter he was trying to cultivate an enthusiasm for them in hope of interesting his wife. "There are some really fine Florida sketches in that studio in the new block," he said, presently, looking up from a nautilus shell he had been ex amining. "One of them will make a nice souvenir of Ormond. However, if you do not care for them, you may select anything else you like. This year I am going to give you two pres ents —my usual one and one of your own choosing as an Ormond souvenir." He turned back to his shell, only to raise his head again quickly. "By the way, I forgot to tell you about a man I met on the street to-day. You re member Seaton, the bookkeeper, who ran away with $2,000?" "Yes." "Well, it was he, but so changed 1 hardly recognized the man. In his case, crime has certainly proved its own punishment. Two years ago he was reckless, but was very scrupulous about his personal appearance; now he is only a slovenly, red-faced toper." Mr. Stevens paused, and ran his fingers through his hair in an irritable, dis gusted sort of way. "It isn't the man I care for."he grumbled, "but a fel low of his stamp seems to drag so much good into the mire with him. Fortunately his wife is dead, but there is a child left." "Did you have him arrested?" Mrs. Stevens asked. "No; what was the use?" a little apologetically. "He has gone through the money—and through himself al most. When he saw me he was too Beared to speak, and just stood there trembling. I asked a few questions and found that the money was all gone and that lie owed a month's board at the C'oquina. He even confessed that he was thinking of running away and leaving the child." "How old Is the child?" Mrs. Stevens asked, eagerly. "Oh, live or six; and she is a very nice little jrirl." Mrs. Stevens rope from her chtlr with an unwonted light in her eyes. "TWi Ik* is * '>!■■<• Htlle ulrl Now may I hold you to your word, and take whatever I 11for my pr*H» in my Christmas souvenir?" "Why, icrtalnly. dear." with glad tt ndi-rni s«, as he detected the ih*w hi ten t In h<*r ejes and voice, "whatever you like." "Then I will 'like the little alrl to Le our own." Hi- half r.isf in his usioiildiment. but th« I "k on her faen prev ntetl #ven the M|i| • arance of c* post ills) 1011. '•\Vr> well. dear,"' hi- said, "we w|!l ko for her In the morning " Farm «ud Fireside. A Christmas Angel By DOROTHY DEAN ...1.......HE angel's name was JSjEI r - |J Kosy. Most days she it**-' wa>i ÜBt an ordinary topjnS little girl, but on „ Christmas eve she was riF to lie an angel. Nate 'Sffjp* CaJr Downey brought her to the door, and then went onto Itiß brother Tom's. He had some -Jlbusiness to talk over. Tom's women folks tS^mrt s ' would be at the church to-night; it would be a good chance. The church was all trimmed with wreaths of evergreen and festoons of cedar, with mottoes and silver stars. There was a myste rious green curtain across one end of the platform, and now and then a young lady peeped from behind it with a very important face. j Rosy was all wrapped up in a great fur cloak, but, oh! what a rauiant. white vision was hidden under that cloak! Because, as 1 said, Rosy was to be an angel, and it was Christmas eve. The church was full of happy peo ple. She nestled down quietly in a corner, her part would not come for a long time. By and by she fell to wondering about the Christmas an gels—if ihey would come to-night across the fields. She had a great mind togo and see. She could slip out of the little door behind the curtain and nobody would know. So she gathered her fur cloak around her and slipped out into the snow. It was so white and still out there; the stars shone down at her; she was not afraid. The fields stretched away be fore her in wide, white silence, and she went away through a little hollow and across a pasture field. It was growing cold and she shivered under her fur cloak, but she did so want to see if i.-3 angels came. She wondered if there -would be any little girl angels like her, and if she would hear them sing. She wondered which way they would come, and which was the star the wise men followed. Maybe if she knew she might follow It, too. and find the little Christ-child, for had not they told her uiat He was on earth still? That one great star in the east, could it be the one? It was so bright she would follow it and see. It must be nearly time for the angels to come. Presently she began to wonder which way she had come. The fields were wide and white about her, rising winds lifted tiny whirls of snow and twisted them into garlands and then dropped them gently. She shivered with the cold. Somewhere lay home, and the warm, bright church, and she could not tell which way. She looked up at the stars, but they seemed so far away, and the Christmas angels did not come. She would sing: maybe they would hear, and tell her which way to go. It was ten o'clock when Nate Downey started home across the fields. It was nearer that way; he would stop at the church for Rosy. Tom and lie had quarreled that night, something about the river meadow, and he walked on moodily, forgetting al! about the blessed Christmastide, and the baby Peace that came to earth on Christ mas night so long ago. All at once he stood still and lis tened. Somewhere out of the dim star light a voice sang, faint and far. "Peace on earth." it sang, "peace and good-will." He remembered thai it was Christ mas eva. "Peace and good-will," sang the voice, blown a little farther by the wind. It was rtosy's song: what did it mean? The father's lip trembled a little. Rosy must be singing her song now in the church; what did it mean that he should hear it htre? Was any thing wrong with the child—his little pet daughter? The wind blew the sound to him again faintly. "Peace and good-will, good-will to men!" Might it not be a message to him? Perhaps after all he had been rash and hasty with Tom: Tom was a good man. He would see him again to-morrow. The voice came again, a little near er; surely it was a voice, a child's voice, and there was the sound of a sob in it —it was Rosy's voice! Nate Downey hurried on. The wind tossed the snow in his face, clouds were drifting tip from the west, and blotting out the stars. He called finally across the Held: "Rosy! Kosy!" the wind caught the name as it left his lips and tossed it away. The Utile voice sang no more. On!y the wind kept up its swift minor swell, and went on heaping little mounds in the corners. A great fear was In his heurt. He railed at-'aln. Oh there! whence came the little voice that cried aobbingly: "Papa. oh. papa!" He sprang forward eagerly, ealllnq again and auain and each time the lit tle voire answered, till at last he had his own little daughter in his arms; the little ChrlMna aiiKel who had cone through the snow to lilm wlih her message of p«od will to m«-n!" Itural NVw Yorker