1 THE BAD BOYS' REPUBLIC, § ;f£ William R. George's System of Transforming Law <P less Street Waifs Into Good Citizens. <|> By D. L. Plerson. The George Junior Republic at Freeville, N. Y., is, perhaps, the most remarkable community ever devised. This extraordinary reformatory is lit erally a nation in miniature, with its own parliament and laws; its own coinage, police, prisons, shops, farms, newspapers, hotels, banks, etc. The founder of this Republic is Mr. "Will iam R. George. Some years ago he became much interested in problems concerning juvenile law-breakers and "incorrigibles" in New York City, and made up his mind to try the ex periment of taking them away from their evil surroundings in the city, and giving them a chance to reform in the country. At first the experiment was not wholly a success, but gradu ally the scheme of a self-governing Republic was perfected, and with the very beat of results. July 10th, 1895, is counted as "Independence Day," and is celebrated each year. The smallest Republic in the world is likewise the most extraordinary and probably the best governed. It is diminutive in territory, in the number of its inhabitants, and in the age and size of its citizens. And yet there are few of the best characteristics of the largest democracies which have not their counterpart in the smallest. The interest taken in the enterprise is shown from the fact that on some days during the summer they have over 200 visitors. Tho George Junior Republic, as it is called, is located at Freeville, in Tompkins County, New York. Its citizens are boys and girls, gathered largely from the slums of great cities. Most of them have "histories" more interesting than creditable. They have been horse thieves, p.ckpockets, runaways, and on the whole, very promising candidates for jails, peni tentiaries, "dives" and tho gallows. At the Republic, however, they are soon transformed into independent, thrifty, law-making, law-abiding citi zens. The territory of the Republic con sists of about 100 acres of farm land not far from Ithica. There are only ten plain wooden buildings in the "metropolis." These comprise two cottages, one for boys and one for girls; the "Republic" building, con taining the library, kitchen, restau rants, hotel and "garroot" lodging house; the school-house, bank and THE PRESIDENT (SALARY FIFTY CENTS A WEEK) AND HIS CABINET. store; the Government building, in cluding court-house, jail, Capitol and postoffice; a girls' jail; a hospital; a barn; a laundry and bath-house; a carpenter and machine shop. Money for a chapel has also recently been given. The land is good farming, and tine crops of hay, grain and vegetables are raised every year. Horses, cows, pigs, etc., are also kept to advantage. This little Republic is a government of the children for the children and by the children. The citizens are boj-s and girls from twelve to eighteen of age. Those under twelve are minors, and must have guardians ap pointed by the State from the older citizens. Many of these guardians have shown themselves to be wise, tactful and loving caretakers of the THE JAIL. (Each boy under twelve tons A guardian ap pointed by the State.) little ones intrnsted to their charge. When the minors cannot fully support themselves tbeir guardians must look out for them, so that the State is not encumbered with their suuuort. The total number of inhabitants of the Re public is now eighty-six. Formerly, the Government was modeled after that of the United States, with President (at a salary of fifty cents a week), a Cabinet, Senate, House of Representatives and Su preme Court. Judges, police officers, and other officials must pass a Civil Service examination, and in conse quence the most thumbed books in the library of the Republic are those con taining the penal and civil code of New York State. All tenure of office is dependent upon upright behavior. It is the ambition of every boy to at tain to the distinction of the vertically striped trousers. Most of them in deed would rather bo "cop" than Presi dent. In 1896 a force of fourteen policemen was necessary to preserve order, but now the State is encum bered with the support of only two. There is, of course, a smart little army. The position of Chief Justice, Civil Service Commissioner, Board of Health THE PRISON GANG GOING OUT TO WORK—OEBERVE THE GUARDS WITH THEIR CLUES. Commissioner, Sheriff, and in fact j almost every prominent civic office— excepting that of Coroner—has its counterpart in this Junior Republic. There is even an officer detailed in the early fall to compel lazy truants to attend schooT. The representative foriu of government, however, was found to be too unwieldly for so small a Republic, and at the suggestion of I one of the boys a town meeting was substituted for Congress as the law making body. There are two political parties in the Republic, the "G. G. P.," or Good Government Party and the "3. O. P., or Grand Old Party. Hot are the contests waged. "Woman Suffrage" prevails at the Republic, since to refuse them the ballot would mean taxation without representation. A heavy fine was imposed on cigar ette smoking, but nevertheless some would often steal away beyond the po liceman's beat, and indulge in this habit. Consequently an amendment was passed which made a citizen liable to arrest and punishment if even the smell of smoke could be detected in his breath. The penalty is a fine of from one dollar to three dollars, or from one to three days in the work house. Gambling of any sort receives no quarter from the officials. The first boy caught "shooting craps" was no less a personage than a member of the Senate of the Republic; and even though he pleaded gnily, the judge fined him twenty-five dollars. He re fused to pay. He lost not only his seat in the Senate but also his rights of citizenship, and he was obliged to don the ignominious striped suit of a convict and break stone at five cents an hour. One night Mr. George him self was [passing his prison cell and spoke to the boy, advising him to pay up and get out of prison. "No, I won't do it,"the boy answered; and tken, with the steady wit of the street orohin, he added: "I guess I'll take the small-pox to-nig'itand break oat." Some days later, however, as lie vat breaking stone, he suddenly threw down his hammer, threw up his hand? in a tragic manner, and exclaimed; "1 surrender! March me to me bank ao count." When wo remember that these laws against swearing, gambling, smoking and other vices, with their heavy penalties attached, are of the boys' own making,. and are enforced by the boys with a rigor which shows a strong public sentiment against the evils, we have some idea of the success which has attended this most interest ing effort at self-government. The jail is no playhouse, but has small cells with bars and high win' dows, the hardest of beds, and unmis takable prison fare. Upstairs is the court-room, containing, among other things, a trap-door for the entranoe ot the prisoner, an imposing high desk for the judge, and a jurors' bench. There is also a small space railed oft for the witness stand, and rows ol seats for interested listeners. The sessions of the court are most orderly and impressive. The pros and cone A>) eLoquerjt ptea. ir) tt)* j, —ip House of RsprestijTativtJ .Jl are carefully -weighed; evidence is called for in the proper order, and most heart-stirring appeals are made to the jury. Only one case of bribery has ever been discovered, and on that occasion the guilty official was im mediately deposed, and suffered dis grace as well as legal penalties. But the citizens of the Republic spend a comparatively small part of their time making laws and breaking them. Each must be at work earning his or her own living. Bear in mind that the motto of the Republic is, "Nothing without labor," and this motto is strictly adhered to, except in case of sickness. Every citizen is CITIZENS OF THE REPUBLIC LATINO A TILE DRAIN. supposed to work and earn enough money to pay for his board and clothes. There are two adnlt head farmers, as well as a carpenter and a housekeeper, who superintend the work; but the boys themselves take contracts for running the hotels, making roads, laying drains, farming, building, etc. These contractors hire laborers at wages ranging from fifty cents to $1.50 per day, according to the skill of the workman. The girls are employed at household duties, and the minors usually help their guardians. Wages are paid ouce a week, aud no favors are shown to those workmen or Government offi cials who recklessly spend their earn ings the first few days of the week. A coarse diet aud a hard bed aro the lot of spendthrifts and loafers. At first very lenient pauper laws were passed. Paupers were fed at the expense of the State, although in <t humiliating manner at a second table from which the cloth and other fluxuries" had been removed, aud where portions were served like prison Nations. But some boys had but lit tle self-respect, and preferred to idle away their time and be dependent up on the charity of the Bepublio. Hav ing no income or property they were practically tax free, and it was not long before the industrious taxpayers began to realize the expense which idlers entailed on the State. Finally a Senator, whose own parents at home were wholly dependent upon city charity, submitted a bill to the Legis lature to the effect that those "who would not work should not eat." The poor but dishonest were thas deprived of support. At the same time, those who through illness are unable to work are provided with free meal tickets.—The Wide World Magazine. France has more persons over sixty years ol age than any other country. MONUMENT TO FRANCES SLOCUrvt. Commemorates the "White ltose of the Mlaiuta" Who Was Stolen by Indiana. With impressive ceremonies and j eloquent oratory the monument over the grave of Frances Slocum was nn veiled recently in the cemetery of the little village of Peoria, near Wabash, Ind. By this memorial the story of tho "White Eose of the Miamis" will be presented in imperishable bronze and the minds of tho numerous de- FRANCES SLOCUM 1 . scisndants of her father in many parts of the country will be set at rest. At 12 o'clock a large crowd had gathered at the resting place of the famous woman. The exercises were opened with prayer by Dr. Arthur Gaylord Slocum, President of Kala mazoo College. The veiling was re moved from tho shaft by Victoria and Mabel Bondv, great-granddaughters of Frances Slocum. Then followed an address by Charles E. Slocum, of Defiance, Ohio, and speeches by early settlers of Indiana and other citizens interested in the strange and pathetic story of the wliito woman who be came socially lost to her people by contact with the American Indians. Frauces Slocum was carried away from the home of ber parents in what is now Wabash County, Indiana, in 1778. She was a child of five years at that time. In spite of almost superhuman efforts made by her family nothing was learned of her fate until 1835, when she was found living with the Miamis near Peru. She had becomo the wife of a chief and had lost all traces of her English origin savo in complexion and features. When it was proposed that she re turn to her people she flatly refused to do so. She had forgotten her child hood, her language and her race, and remained with the ludians almost to the day of ber death in 1847. For several years members of the Slocum family have been active in raising funds for the monument which has just been unveiled. Carrie* Water From the Well* The labor of carrying pails of watei i from the well to the house day after ; day soon becomes monotonous and : tiresome, and as the work generally ! falls on the women of the household, ■ anything which will lighten the labor will be duly appreciated. Henry W. Harless, of Good Hope, Mo., ha 9 evolved an apparatus by means of which it is possible to send the pails to the wed, till them and return them to the house without doing any heavy lifting, the operator simply standing at the house and turning a crank. The buckets aro suspended on the ends of the ropes, which are wound on the drum, the latter being sup ported by a carriage riding on the cable. The turning of a crank slides the carriage aloDg the cable to the spring, where the toothed wheel en gages a oog wheel on the drum to lower the buckets into the well and fill them. Then the motion of the l '- | , WATER-ELEVATIXO AND CARRi'INO AP PARATUS. crank is reversed and the pails are lifted, the drum being automatically locked when the pails are at the right height. Then the carriage travels back to the house. The cable can be so placed as to incline slightly toward the house, which will allow the car riage to return of its own acoord, the speed being regulated by a brake on the crauk shaft. The Slaminlnn-Door Habit, Every mother probably admits to j herself that she had the greatest com- I fort with her children previous to the | time they learned to slam doors like I their father.—Atchison Globe. Tlie Bo; Who la Saved. | The small boy whose grandmothers ' are both dead stands a pretty good j chance of not being spoiled. DR. TALMAUE'3 SERMON. SUNDAY'S DISCOURSE BY THE NOTED DIVINE. Subject: Tito Roll ol Honor—A Tribute to Kveiyilay Heroes—ln the Final Head. Justment They Will liecelre tbe Crown of Valor. [CoryrißUt iimhj.i WASHINGTON, D. C.—Dr. Talmagc, who is now preaching to large audiences in the great cities ot' Kngland and Scotland, sends this discourse, in which he shows that many who in this world pass as of little importance will in the day of anal readjustment be crowned with high honor; text, 11 Timothy ii, 3, "Thou therefore endure hardness." Historians are not slow to acknowledge the merits of groat military chieftains. We have the full length portraits of the Croniwells, the Washingtons, the Napo leons and the Wellingtons of the world. History is not written in back ink, but with red ink of human blood. The gods of human ambition do not drink trom bowls made out of silver or gold or pre cious stones, hut out of the bleached skulls of the fallen. But 1 am now to un roll before you a scroll of heroes that the world has never acknowledged—those who faced no guns, blew no bugle blast, con quered no cities, chained no captives to their chariot wheels, and yet tn the great day of eternity will Btand higher than some of those whose names sti-.rtled the nations —and seraph and rapt-spirit and archangel will tell their deeds to a listen ing universe. I mean the heroes of com mon, everyday life. In this roll in the first place I find all the heroes of the sick room. When Satan had failed to overcome Job, he said to God, "l'ut forth Tuy hand and touch his bones and his flesh, and he will curse Thee to Thy face." Satan had found out that which we have all found out —that sickness is the greatest test of one's char acter. A man who can stand that can stand anything. To be shut in a room as fast as though it were a bastile, to be so nervous you cannot endure the tap of a child's foot, to have luscious fruit, which tempts the appetite of the robust and healthy, excite our loathing -nd disgust when it first appears on the platter; to have the rapier of pain strike through the side or across the temple like a razor or to put the foot into a vise or throw the whole body into a blaze of fever. Yet there have been men and women, but more women than men. who have cheer fully endured this hardness. Through I years ot' exhausting rheumatisms and ex j eruciating neuralgias they have gone and . through bodily distress that rasped the I nerves and tore the muscles and the ! cheeks and stooped the shoulders, By | the dull light of the sick room taper they saw on their wall the picture of that land where the inhabitants are never sick. Through the dead silence of the night they J heard the chorus of the angels. I The cancer ate away her life from week I to week and day today, and she became j weaker and weaker and every "good | night" was feebler than the "good night" ! before, yet never .-ad. The children looked I up into her face and saw suffering trans | formed into a heavenly smile. Those who I suffered on the battlefield amid shot and shell were not more heroes and heroines than those who, in e field hospital and ! in the asylum, had fevers which no ice ; could cool and no surgery cure. No shout j of a comrade to cheer them, but numbness j and aching and homesickness, yet willing I to suffer, confident in God, hopeful ot I heaven. Heroes of rheumatism, heroes of I neuralgia, heroes of spinal complaint, he | roes of sick headache, heroes of lifelong i invalidism, heroes and heroines! They shall reign for ever and ever. Hark! I 1 catch just one note of the eternal anthem, | "There shall be no more pain!" Bless I God for that! i In this roll I also find the heroes of toil, i who do their work uncomplainingly. It I is comparatively easy to lead a regiment ■ into batte when you know that the whole | nation will applaud the victory, it is coin ; paratively easy to doctor the sick when you know that your skill will be appre ! eiated by a large company of friends and relatives, it is comparatively easy to ad dress an audience when in the gleaming | eyes and flushed cheeks you know that ' your sentiments are adopted, but to do j sewing when you expect the employer will i come and thrust his thumb through the I work to show how imperfect it is or to ! have the whole garment i..rown back on ' you to be done over again; to build a wall and know there will be no one to say you did it well, but only a swearing employer howling across the scaffold; to work until your eyes are dim ami your back atjies and your heart faints, and to i know that if you stop before night your | children will starve! Ah, the sword has ] not slain so many as the needle! The i great battlefields of our civil war were not Gettysburg and Shiloh and South Mount i ain. Ihe great battlefields were in the arsenals and in the shops and in the at tics, where women made army jackets for a sixpence. Uney toiled on until they died. They had no funeral eulogium, but, in the name of my God, this day I enroll their names among those of whom the world was not worthy. Heroes of the needle! Heroes of the sewing machine! Heroes of the attif! Heroes of the cel lar! Heroes and heroines! Bless God for them! In this roll I also find the heroes who have uncomplainingly endurea domestic injustices. They are men who for their toil and anxiety have no symuathy in their homes, kxhausting application to business gets them a livelihood, but an unfrugal wife scatters it. He is fretted at from the moment he enters the door until he comes out of it. The exasperations of business life, augmented by tne exaspera tions of domestic life. Such men are laughed at, but they have a heartbreaking trouble, and they would have long ago gone into appalling dissipation but for the grace of God. Society to-day is strewn with the wrecks of mfn who, under the northeast storms of domestic felicity, have been driven on the rocks. There are tens of thousands of drunkards to-day, made such by their wives. That is not poetry; that is prose. But the wrong js generally in the opposite direction. You would not have togo far to find a wife whose life is a perpetual martyrdom—something heavier than a stroke of the fist, unkind words, staggering homo at midnight and constant maltreatment, which have left her only a wreck of what she was on that day when in the midst of a brilliant as semblage the vows were taken and full l ,|a -Vd >US. USJJina march aud the eSr."Tifcs rolled away with tho benediction of the people. What was the burning of Latimer and Ridley at the stake com pared with this? Those men soon became unconscious in the fire, but there is a thirty years' martyrdom, a fifty years' nutting to death, yet uncomplaining, no bitter words when the rollicking compan ions at 2 o'clock in the morning pitch the husband dead drunk into the front entry, no bitter words when wiping from the swollen brow the b.ood struck out in a midnight carousal, bending over the bat tered and bruised form of him who when he took her from her father's home prom ised love and kindness and protection, yet nothing but sympathy and pravers nnd forgiveness before they are asked for; no bitter words when *!ie family Bible goes for rum and the pawnbroker's shop gets the last decent dress. Some day, desiring to evoke the story of her sor rows, vou say, "Well, how are vou get ting along now?" and, rallying her trembling voice and quieting-her quivering lip, she savs, "I'retty well. I thank you; prettv well." She never will tell you. In the delirium of her last sickness she may tell all the other secrets of her lifetime, but she will not tell that. Not until the j l>ooks of "ternitv are opened on the I throne of judgment will ever be known i what she has suffered. I find alss in this roll the heroes of Christian charity. \\'e all admire the George J'eabodys and the James Lenoxes of the earth, who give tens and hundreds of thousands of dollars to good objects. But I am speaking now of those who, out of their pinched poverty, help others—of such men as those Christian missionaries at the wes*, who proclaim Christ to i-e people, one of them, writing to the secre tary in New York, saying: "I thank you for that $25. Until yesterday we have had no meat in our house for three months. We have suffered terribly. My children have no shoes this winter. And of those people who have only a half loaf of bread, but give a piece of' it to othei < who are hungrier, and of those who have only a scuttle of coal, but help others to fuel, and of those who have only a dollar in their pocket and give twenty five cents to somebody else, and of that father who wears a shabby coat and of that mother who wears a faded dress, that their children may be well appar eled. You call them paupers or ragamuf fins or emigrants. 1 call them heroes and heroines. You and I may net ..now where they live or what their name is. God knows, and thev have more angels hovering over them than you and I have, and they will have a higher s?at in heaven. I'hey may have only a cup of eold water to give a poor traveler or may have only picked a splinter from the nail of a child's linger or have put only two mites ito the treasury, but the Lord knows them. Considering what they had, they did more than we have ever done, and their faded dress will become a white robe, and the small room will be an -xternai mansion and the old hat will be exchanged for a coronet oi victory and all the ap plause of earth and the shouting of heaven will be drowned out when God rises up to give His reward to those humble work ers in His kingdom and to say to them. "Well done, g . u and faithful servant." You have all seen or heard of the ruins of Melrose Abbey. I suppose in some respects they are the most exquisite ruins on earth, and yet, 'ooking at it, I was not so impressed—you may tet it do- i to bad taste, but I was not so deenly stirred as 1 was at a tombstone at the foot of that abbey, the tombstone placed by Walter Scott over the grave of an old man who had served him a good many years in his house, the -seription most significant, and I defy any man to stand there and read it without tears coming into his eves—the epitaph, ''Well done, good and faithful servant." Oh, when our work is over, will it be found, because of anything we have done for God or tne church or suffering humanity, that such an inscription is appropriate for us? God grant it! Who arc those who were bravest and deserved the greatest monument—Lord Claverhouse and his burly soldiers or John Brown, the Edinburgh carrier, and his wife"' Mr. Atkins, the persecuted minister of Jesii3 Christ in Scotland, was secreted by John 1 frown and his wife, and Claverhouse rode up one day with his armed men and shouted in front of the house. John Brown's little girl came out. He said to her. '"Well, miss, is Mr. Atkins here?" She made no answer, for she could not betray the minister ot the gospel. "Ha!" Claverhouse said, "Then you are a chip of the old block, are vou? [ have something in my pocket for you. It is a nosegay. Some people call it a thumbscrew, but I call it a nosegay." And he got off his horse, and l.e put it on the little girl's hand and began to turn it until the bones cracked anil she cried. He said: "Don't cry. don't cry. This isn't a thumbscrew; this is a nosegay." And they heard the child's cry, and tin father and mother came out. and Claver house said: "It seems that you three have la<<t vo">- I- »!v b»a<U tonethe'-, de termined to die like all the rest ->f your hypocritical, canting, sniveling crew. Rather than give up good Mr. Atkins, pious Mr. Atlciru?. you would die. I have a telescope with me that will imorove your vision." And he pulled out a pis tol. "Now," he said, "you old pragmatic, lest you should catch cold in this cold morning of Scotland, and for the honor and safety of the king, 'o bay nothing of the glory of God and the good of our souls. I will proceed simolv and in the neatest and most exneditiov.3 style ta blow your brains out." John Brown fell upon his knees and began to pray. "Ah! said Claverhouse, "look out if you are goint; to prav. Steer clear of the liina. the council and Kichard Cameron." "O Lord." said John Brown, "since it seems to be Thy will that I should leave this world for a world where I can love Thee better and serve Thee more, I put ttiis poor widow woman and those helpless, fatherless children into Thy hands. We have been together in peace a good while, but now we must look forth to a better meeting in heaven, and as for these poor creatures, blindfolded and in fatuated. that stand before me, convert them before it be too late, and may they who have sat in judgment in this lonely place on this blessed morning upon me, a poor, defenseless fellow creature, may thev in the last judgment find that mercy which they have refused to me, Thy most unworthy but faithful servant. Amen." He rose and said, "Isabel, the hour has come of which I spoke to you on the morning when 1 proposed hand and heart to you. and are you willing now, for the love of God to let me die?" She put her arms around him and said: "The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away. Blessed be the name of the Lord." "Ston that sniveling." said Claverhouse. "I have had enough of it. Soldiers, do vaur work! Take aim! Fire!" And the head of John Brown was scattered on the ground. While the wife was gathering up in her anron the fragment of her hus band's head—gathering them up for bur ial —Claverhouse looked into her face &nd said: "Now, my good woman, how do \ou feel now about your honnie man.'" "Oh," she said. "I always thought weel of him. He has been very good to me. 112 had no reason for thinking anything but weel ot him, and I think better of him now. ' Oh. what a grand thing it will be in the last day to see God pick out His heroes and heroines! Who are those paupers of eter nity trudging off from the gates of heaven? Who are they? The Lord Clavovliousas and Herods ami those who had sc»'.t(-is and crowns and thron.'s, but the- lived for their own aggrandizement, and they broke the heart of nations. Heroes oE earth, but paupers in eternity. I beat the drums of their ctornal despair. \\ oe, woe, wo?! ' * What harm can the world do you when the Lord Almighty with unsheathed sword lights for you? 1 preach this sermon for comfort, (jo home to the place just where Cod has put you to play the hero or the heroines. Do not envy any man his money or his ap-Mause or his social po sition. l>o not envy any woman her ward robe or her exquisite appearance, lie tha hero or the heroine. It there be no ttour in the house and you do not know where your children are to get bread, listen, and you will hear something tapping against the window pane. Co to the window, and you will find it is the beak of a raven, and open the window, and there will lly in the messenger that fed f.lijau. Do you think that the (rod who grows the cotton of the south will let you freeze for lack of clothes? Do you think that the God who allowed His discinles on Sabbath morning togo into the graitiiield and then take the grain and rul> it in their hands and eat—do yon think God will let you starve? Did you ever hear of the experience of that old inan, "X have been young and now am old, yet I have never seen the righteous forsaken or his seed begging bread?" Get up out of your discourage ment, O troubled soul, O sewing woman, Oman kicked and cuffed by unjust em ployers. (> ye who Rre hard liese. in the battle of life and know not which way to turn, O bereft one, O you sick cne with complaints you have told to no one, come and get the comfort of tKj subject! Lis ten to our great Cantain's cheer, 'To him that overcometh will I give to eat of the fruit of the tree of life which is in the midst cf the paradise of God."
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers