Tlie automobile, like the bicycle, is th«i good friend of good roads. Paris is so well pleased with the working of its underground railway that it has decided to build a second. The Venezuelan trade is getting a hustle upon itself, opening up well in most lines. Conditions there seem to be healthier than for some time past. The Missouri hen last year laid eggs enough for shipment to bring in a cash return of $5,375,000, and her progeny formed a large portion of the poultry which sold for $7,185,000 more. it is said that Spain will contract for eight new cruisers in England, France and Italy. Poor old Spain! She will never learn anything from experience. And yet she ought to know by this time where the best boats are built. The annual report of the commis sioners of prisons of the United King dom, shows a gratifying decrease of crime. During the year 1900 184,330 persons were committed to prison, 184,086 being men and 49,250 women. During the year 185,182 were dis charged, leaving 15,670 prisoners in custody at the end of the year, which was a decrease from 16,593 at the close: of 1899. Comparison between the cost or government in France today and dur ing the last year of the empire are be ing made to the disadvantage of the republic. In 1869 the total cost amounted to $385,000,000. In the year ending .March 31, 1901, the expendi tures amounted to $690,000,000. Mean time the population has remained al most stationary and the per capita cost of government for the last fiscal year amounted to $lB. The increase in cost is due largely to the French policy of refunding debts and annual deficits and to the cost of maintain ing unproductive colonies. In many parts of the west and in some of the south, community settle ments of farmers are becoming nu merous, says the Atlanta Journal. A cumber of farmers build their homes close together and from this central settlement their land lines radiate. The advantages of this plan are ob vious. It affords the championship, the lack of which the wife and chil dren of many a farmer feel so keenly. It affords mutual protection and the means or mutual improvement. The church, the schoolliouse, the social club, the general store —all these are made possible and brought nearer to the people. The benefits of the com munity life thus established are in calculable Instituted by a Frenchman, for a German society of truthseekers. and bestowed upon an American. This is the history of the triennial prize ot 3(K)0 marks just awarded by the Berlin Academy of Science to the American historian, Mr. James Ford Ithodes, of Boston. It carries with it fresh and striking proof that the world of science aad literature knows none of those political metes and bounds whose settlement and maintenance lorm the history of nations, and are accountable for so much of the world's bloodshed. To American his torians this recognition of one who has made a permanent place for him self in his chosen field will be most grateful, remarks the New York Post. Any careful observer must have noted how much more popular re creation has of late become among the American people. The Saturday half-holiday is more general and va cations are longer and more indulged in by all classes. And in addition to these, excursions and "days off" lire more frequent and popular than formerly. Some one "handy at fig ures" has estmated that 10,000,000 in the United States will take a vaca tion this summer, and that on an ev erage each one will spend $lO. This would make a total of $100,000,000 spent for rest and recreation. It is probable that the figures are toe small. Leaving out the rich and leas ure class, to whom time and money is no object, at least one in each seven of all the people in the country will enjoy a vacation this summer, extending from five to 30 days. This would mean a rest for over 12,000, 000 people, and if they spend only sl2 each, about $150,000,000 will be used in gaining rest and recreation. It is time and money well spent. Nc investment made in the whole yeai brings in larger returns. It is one of the causes which are adding per ceptibly to the span of life. The lengthening of this span has become eo evident that a revision of the old tables of the expectation of human life has been made necessary. When Sheffield steel manufacturers set up mills in Pennsylvania, Great Britain indeed gives up beaten. Ireland has become innoculated with the bacilli expositionalis and it is planned to hold a great international exhibition at Cork. Probably It has never occurred to the average man how much free ad vertising he is doing for the various dealers and manufacturers whom he patronizes. The hatter puts his label in our hats, the tailor attaches his etiquette to our coats. Collars, cuffs, shirts and shoes all bear the name of the maker, so to some extent every man who walks the street is a "sand wich man." People with chest complaints are recommended by medical men to read aloud, as this strengthens throat, lungs and chest muscles alike. The reading should be deliberate, without being allowed to drag, and the enun ciation clear, the body being held In an easy, unstrained, upright position, so that the chest will have free play. The breathing should be natural and as deep as possible without undue effort. The New Zealand government nas decided that swimming and life-sav ing shall be taught in all its schools. The life-saving society's method hav ing been adopted, 2000 hand-books and charts have been sent by order of the government for the use of schoolmasters. The hand-book, in which the course of instruction is ful ly set forth for the use of classes, schools, and individuals, has also been translated into Swedish and Italian. The farmer's boy who drifts to the city finds, in nine cases out of ten, irregular work, a dingy little room in a bad street, food that he would have disdained in his country home and ir resistible temptation to spend every dollar which he can get hold of. The city boy reaching the country finds just as hard work and longer hours, but work In the fresh air and sun shine, with comfortable surroundings, good food and all the social standing of which his character makes him worthy. A novel but excellent idea has oee?» Introduced in London at all of the large halls, museums, exposition buildings and other places which are frequently attended by children. At the Crystal Palace, South Kensington Museum, the Hippodrome, Earl's Court Exhibition, the Agricultural halls, the Kew Gardens and other places a room has been set apart tc which lost children are taken by the ushers and other attendants and re tained until called for by their par ents or whoever is in charge of them. Mosquito hunters will follow with In terest the experiments that aro beina made in New Orleans, where the mos quitoes flourish practically rfll the year around. Oil has become very cheap in that city since the opening of the Texas fields, and it has been decided to try to on railways. Most of New Orleans mosquitoes are bred in open drains and cisterns, and while the streets are being sprinkled oil is put on the neighboring drains. AS a result oi tne observanoD of a board of British naval officers some important changes are to be made in battleships to be built in the near future as part of England's prin ciple defence. For one thing it has been decided to cut down the masts of such ships some sixty feet, because the new signaling devices introduced into use recently make tall masts un necessary. Furthermore, the high fore and aft bridges are to be lowered built entirely of iron, and so arranged that in clearing ship for action they can easily be slid overboard. These improvements are in the general line of naval progress, and must be ac cepted as good. But what will the outsider think in regard to the grad ual disappearance of all that he has long recognized as marks of a ship? There were weepings and wailings when the old spars and canvas went, and in the course of time even the fighting mast will go.and wlien steam is superseded perhaps even the funnels. Then wc shall have wot hints but the floating hulk, filled with death dealing machines and horrid to look upon. But maybe before that (linn comes war will been abolished. Why not? queries the New York Times. i WHEN SAM FOUND HIS COURAGE. { EX ELIZABETH L. GOULD. £ "You know what the judge told you at the 'cademy exhibition, Sammy, said Hiram Lane, slowly, his eyes fixed on the boy stretched on the grass near him. "He said if ever you want ed to leave Moorby to let him know; that he'd like to do something for a boy with such a good brain, and a head for figures. Those were his words, Sammy." The boy's thin face flushed as he turned to look at his uncle, and he spoke with nervous quickness; "He's forgotten all about me long before this, Uncle Hiram. Why, that school exhibition was two years ago last June, and the judge didn't come to Moorby last summer, you know. I should be afraid togo and ask any favor of him." "I wish you hadn't such a bashful streak in you. Sammy," said Uncle Hi ram. looking down at the boy with a half-reproachful, wholly affectionate smile. "You're just like your poor pa. A better man never lived, but he wasn't built to get on in this world, and he didn't get on. I was hoping you might have a little more push than your pa. Sammy, along with the good ness. Now your ma's gone. I could be moved anywhere; or 1 could be putin the county farm, Sammy, if so be it seemed best for you to strike out to the city alone. I'm nothing but a helpless old hulk, any way." "Don't you say that again. Uncle Hiram! Don't you dare to!" cried the boy, fiercely, springing to his feet, and rushing like a whirlwind upon the figure in the old armchair. "Aren't you all I've got in the world that be longs to me? Do you suppose I'd go away and leave you for the town to lake care of? I'd deserve to be hung!" "Sho, now, Sammy!" said the occu pant of the armchair, gently, as he saw the hot tears that stood in the boy's eyes. "We haven't got anything but each other, either of us; but here I am, lame so I'm no good to stir about; hands all knotted up with rheumatics, so I can't use 'em, and you just spend ing lour days distributing milk, and sawing and splitting, which any boy with no such head for figures as you've got could do full as well. How much did you earn last week, Sammy?" "Only three dollars. Uncle Hiram," answered the boy, slowly. "You know my work is always slack after the sum mer people have gone. The judge and tiis family are going next week. Their oired girl told me to have Mr. Sargent make out the milk bill. When I went there yesterday morning the judge was fitting on the side piazza, but he didn't know me." "Did you make your manners to Him. and give him a good look at \vu. Sammy?" asked the uncle, anxiously "I mistrust you kind of half-turned four head away, or maybe the sun was in his eyes," "I took off my cap the best I knew now," said Sammy; "but he barely nodded to me. He wasn't reading or anything, either." "Maybe he was calculating in his head." suggested Mr. Lane, quickly glancing up at the boy, and then avert ing his eyes. "You recall how he told you he used to love to do those mental sums, same as you did at the exhibi tion. Sammy?" The boy shook his head, and stood for a moment looking across the fields up to the hill on which stood tha judge's house, its windows gleaming bright in the morning sun. "No, he's just forgotten me, Uncle Hiram, that's all," he said, after a few moments of silence. "I'm just one of the country boys to him. and I guess that's all I ever shall be. He's the Dnly one that could give me a chance. Now I must run over to Mrs. I-wpham's and finish piling her wood. Will you stay here and read till I come bad' at noon? The sun's good and warm ;oday." "You'll find me sitting in my castle, same as you see me now," said Mr. Lane, cheerily. "Pay my respects to Mrs. Lapham, and tell her I wish she could get out to enjoy this beautiful weather, but I always think of what a sightly view she has from that south window of hers. I took special note of it that day of the town celebration when I rode past the house, three years back." The cheery smile lingered on Uncle Hiram's face till the boy was well out of sight beyond the turn in the road, and then it gave place to a look of patient pain. "He'd counted on the judge's know ing him," said the crippled man. turn ing his head wearily against the soft old cushion. "I know it just as well cs 15 he'd said so! "If the judge had shown signs of remembering him. Sammy would have plucked up courage to ask him if there was any chance for him down below. Don't I know how he's kept at his study evenings when he's been 'most too tired to sit up? Seventeen years old last week, and going to be hived up here all win ter, and only just earn enough to keep us a-going!" Mr. Lane pounded on the ground with his erirteh in excitement, and scared away a squirrel which was on a journey to a neighboring elm. "Poor little creatur'! I didn't mean to fright you," said Uncle Hiram, re gretfully; "but I just recollect that Sammy asked me if I'd full as soon call him 'Sam,' now he's seventeen, and I've clean forgotten it ever since till this minute! And he such a boy, and me such a drag on him, and forgetting such an easy thing as that! I'll get my mouth fixed for it when he comes back. 'Sam,' I'll say to him. 'Sam, I'm glad to see you back, Sam; and, Sam. I've had a nice morning under tlx: trees, Sam.' I reckon the oitener I say it for a spell, the c-asier it'll come. I'll practice it off and on the rest r' the morning to keep my hand in," sail Uncle Hiram, wisely. Sammy's thoughts, as he hurried down the road that led to the Lapham house, were not very comforting. "I'm nothing but what the children call a 'fraid cat;' that's all I am!" he said, bitterly. "Any other boy would speak up to the judge and make him remember, and perhaps get a chance. Uncle Hiram minds, too. He's hardly talked about the old war-times, when he was a drummer-boy and got his wounds, once, for the last week. He'd rather be in an attic in Boston and know I was working my way up than to stay here in Moorby; there's nobo ly here he cares enough about to make him want to stay. And I might eai'n money enough to buy him a wheeled chair before long. While mother live I I couldn t go. but now I could." Sirs. Lapham's house laced the south, and as Sammy entered the yard 'vs looked for Mrs. Lapham's smile at th ? window of the room where all her days were spent. She had been bedridden for ten years; the old sitting-room of her early married life had been changed to her bedroom, and every morning before Mr. Lapham started for his "Harness and Shoe Shop" he dragged the bed close to the window. All passers-by were used to the sight of Mrs. Lap ham's pale face propped into view by many pillows, and her thimbie tapped many a summons to enter on the low est right-hand pane. There was no face at the window that morning, although, as Sammy drew close to the house, he could see that the bed was in its usual place. As he stood a moment irresolutely at the turn where the path branched of* toward the woodshed, a man hailed him from a passing cart, saying: "HuMo, Sammy! How's business with you these days?" "Fair." returned the boy. soberly adding under his breath. "I wish peo ple wouldn't call me 'Sammy!' Its such a baby name! " There came a tap at the window as the curt rattled out of sight, and Sam my turned quickly to see Mis. Lap ham's face, white and drawn, at tl.e pane. "Why, she looked as if she wjvS cry ing!" said the boy to himself, startled out of thoughts about his own troubles, as he entered the house. There was no longer any doubt in his mind when he stood in the door way and saw the invalid's great dailc eyes. "Sammy!" she cried, in a hit'h, strained voice. "The men are at work in the judge's meadow, and he's thera with 'em! They're going to cut dovn all my willows and my old apple-tr-e, ham my I John Roberts is there w'th 'em. superintending under the judge. 1 tapped him in this morning just after Mr. Lapham had gone, and he told me. Why. Sammy, it seems as if those trees belonged to me! My view'll be all spoiled, and it's everything I have to look at, that meadow is, Sammy!" "Yes'm, I know," said the boy, with quick sympathy. "I suppose he thinks ihe mcadow'll be better wi:lout the willows, and that the apple-tree doesn't bear much of any fruit. He doesn't realize about you. Mrs. Laphau*, th? judge doesn t; I don't believe be even knows about you. You see he's only here in the summer, and he doesn't see much of us village people." added Sammy, gently. "It's an awful p.iy Mrs. Lapham." "If he knew,' said the invalid, crush ing her handkerchief between her clasped hands, "if he knew, do yju suppose he'd leave the apple-tree Sammy?' Look! Here's where I see the buds on that long branch first; and then the blossoms come, all whit ■ and pink, and then the apples. And the branches are lovely even wh.r. they're bare; and you know how they shine in the snow and ice. I've shown you so often. The road is so narrow how can the judge help knowing about me. Sammy? And the willows shine so in the sun after a rain! I shall be gone before they could grow high enough for me to see them again!" Sammy's face flushed a curious red in streaks. "I will go and tell the judge about it, Mrs. Lapham," he said. Even ready-tongued people hesitatel to ask favors lightly of Judge Saun ders. who was counted just but by no means benevolent. Fear and excite ment choked together in Sammy's throat. Many ideas shot through the boy's brain as he ran along the roa.l to the break in the wall where the meadow bars were down, and across the meadow toward the tail figure of the judge. But more vividly than all else there rose before his mini the invalid's face, and it was the only smir he needed. You may begin on that oldest apple tree, Roberts," the judge was saying. 'I have an appointment now with Mr. Willis, but 1 shall be back in the course of the morning to see how the work goen on. I —" "Judge Saunders, please stop!" came a boy's voice behind him, and the judge turned to confront Sammy's flushed and excited face. "What's the trouble, my youn-j friend?" he asked, in a curt tone. "Where and why do you wish me to step?" "It's the tree, sir!" cried Sartiny, his i troubled eyes fixed on the judge's keen pray ones. "Mrs. Lapham is an in valid; it's years since she could leave her bed, sir. Her husband pulls it up to the window every morning before he goes off to work, so she tan look out. She can see just a strip of sky and this piece of your meadow; your willows and the old apple-tree are "ier picture, all the hap to look at!" The judge stooped to pick up a long blade of grass as tlie boy stopped for breath, but did not interrupt him. John Roberts and the other men stood open mouthed behind their employer. "In (he spring she watches for the very first sign of green on the old apple-tree," Sammy rushed on, never taking his eyes from the judge's face, "and she sees it, too. And then when the blossoms come, and are in full bloom, why, that's her happiest time, sir. That long, straggly branch," the boy pointed to one arm of the old tree as he spoke, "lies right acioss her win • dow, sir, with the willows behind it. You see, 'way across the road the meadow space between the apple-tre» and the willows doesn't show; they look close together, all in her picture." Sammy paused, and the flush faded from his face, leaving it unusually pale. The judge stood looking off across the meadow, drawing the blade of grass through his fingers. "That's all, sir," faltered Sammy, "but —but I thought you wouldn't — perhaps you wouldn't have the trees cut if you knew, for Mrs. Lapham has such a very little pleasure, sir, and she's feeling so sad about the trees." "I'm! I'm sorry for that,' said judge, turning his keen eyes 'oward the boy at last. "I suppose you're ovei run with pleasure yourself, aren't you —like most of the rest of us?" "Sir!" stammered the boy. "Do those old willows over there come into your friend's picture?" asked the man, abruptly, pointing to a clump far along the little meadow brook. "Oh, no, sir," said Sammy, quickly. "She can't see those at all." "Take the men over there Roberts, and begin work at once. These trees may stand as long as they're needed to make a picture for Mrs. Lapham." said the judge. Then, as the men moved away, he turned again to the boy. "It's a pity you'd ratrer help run a milk route than learn to be an account ant," he said, in his former curt tone. "I'm rather disappointed in what I hear of you now. I thought you licul ambition." Sammy's face grew scarlet again aivl his lips trembled, but he kept his eyes fixed bravely on the judge's. "I think —I am anxious to do some thing better, sir," he said, slowly. "But I thought you'd forgotten all about me. and I didn't like to say anything, and —I have my uncle to support. Judge Saunders." "I never forget a face," said the judge, briskly, "and you can earn more money in an office I know of than you ever can here. I'll call to see your uncle this afternoon, and have a talk with him. Now you'd better go bacV to Mrs. Lapham and ease her mind. I'm not sure that you wouldn't maUe a good advocate," he added, with a grim smile. "Perhaps I shall be de frauding the law if I get you start* 1 in business." As the boy turned togo he looked up at the Lapham window, and his grave young face broke into a smile. "How glad she'll be. sir!" he sa'n. "I don't see how I can thank you—for her and for myself." "Look here!" said the judge, laying his hand on the boy's shoulder. "Listen to me. Take seven, multiply by foui divide by two, subtract five, add three multiply by eleven, divide by four, add two, divide by seven, multiply by s'x, divide by ten —and what do you have?' The judge had spoken as rapidly as his tongue could move, but none too fast for Sammy. "Three, sir." came the Instant reply, delivered quietly, with shining eyes. "We'll call that thanks," said tha judge, calmly. "I havo three boys, and not one of them can add twelve and thirteen without a pencil and paper. Good-by!" When Mrs. Lapham, crying soft 1 y for joy, had been left behind, and a whirlwind had fallen upon Unci.) Hiram Lane, and made clear to his mind the morning's news, the lame man set his lips for a self-appointed task. "Sam," he said, carefully, "you de serve it all, and. Sam, your old uncle is glad. Sam, and from this day on. Providence permitting.', I will never call you Sammy again!"— Youth's Companion. Hie Wn er llr«tle. The great carnivorous water beetle, the dytiscus, after catching and eat ing other creatures all day, with two minute intervals to come up, poke the til_s of its wings out of the water, and jam some air against its spiracles, be fore descending once more to its suba queous hunting grounds, will rise by night from the surface of the Thames, lift again those horny wing cases, un fold a broad and beautiful pair of gauzy wings, and whirl off on a visit of love and adventure to some distant pond, onto which it descends like a bullet from the air above. When peo ple are sitting in a greenhouse at night with no lamp lighted, talking or smok ing, they sometimes hear a smash, as if a pebble had been dropped on the glass from above. It is a dysticus beetle, whose compound eyes have mistaken the shine of the glass in the moonlight for the gleam of a pond. At night some of the whirligig beetles, the shiny beanlike creatures seen whirl ing in incessant circles in corners by the bank, make a quite audible and al most musical sound upon the water. — The Spectator. THE GREAT DESTROYER SOME STARTLINC FACTS ABOUT THE VICE OF INTEMPERANCE. Medical Testimony '<• to the Injury ol Giving Intoxicants Jo Children Re sponsible For Many Dlseatics anil Or ganic Troubles—A Great Kvll. Professor Max Kassowitz, the njost fa mous authority in Vienna on children's diseases, speaking at the session in Yiduna, of the International Anti-Alcoholic Con gress, strongly opposed the practice of giving children intoxicants in any form, even in very moderate quantities. Beer and wine, he held, were highly in jurious on account of the changing char acter of the bodily organs during child growth. Such liquids were absolutely un nourishing and frequently led to epilepsy and had also a deadening power in lea.ru ing. A Vienna schoolmaster stated that oil Mondays the children were dull and heavy in consequence of the beer and wine drink ing on Sunday. Fifty per cent, of the Vienna school children, it was stated, take intoxicants. The New York Herald interviewed va rious New York medical men on the mat ter. Dr. Louis Fisher, a leading specialist in diseases of children, corroborated the statements of Professor Kassowitz as to the injury of intoxicants to those of ten der age. Dr. Fisher was inclined from personal observation to the belief that wine and beer were frequently given to children in this city, especially among the tenement house population. He added: "This is observed by any physician who has a dispensary practice. Among par ents of Irish birth who live on the west side whisky is a favorite tonic for babies. The Germans on the east side give their children beer. "Parents seem to have the idea that by giving children liquor they are making them strong—that it will strengthen then hearts. They generally begin the practice very early. "In consequence of this practice the growth of the children is retarded, and their digestion is disturbed. The suffer ing of the baby from the effects of the ad ministration of liquor seems to give the parents the idea that more is needed to counteract the ailments. So they go from bad to worse. "To any one whose attention has been ?alled to the subject particularly it is re markable to note how much digestive trouble can be traced to this practice. The most deplorable part of it is that the ill-effects of the liquor are not injurious to the stomach alone, but quickly extend to the liver." Dr. Augustus Caille said the evils result ing from the practice were real and not Imaginary. He declared that great care was necessary in the administration of liquors to children even by physicians. He added that he did not prescribe whisky brandy for children except in extreme :ases. Views of the Very Kov. Dean Farrar. My reasons for taking the pledge were partly general and partly special. First—l became convinced that the use of alcohol in any form was not a neces sity. 1 saw that whole nations have lived .and flourished without it. I be lieved that the whole race of man had ex isted for centuries previous to its discov ery. Second—l was struck by the indisputa ble fact that in England 20,000 inhabit ants of our prisons, accustomed to strong: drink all their lives, and the majority of them brought into prison directly or indi rectly by it, could be, and were, from the moment of their imprisonment, absolute ly deprived of it, not only without loss, but with entire gain 1J their personal health. Third—l derived from the recorded tes timony of our most eminent physicians that the use of alcohol is a subtle and manifold source of disease even to thou sands who use it in quantities convention ally deemed moderate; also, that all the young, and all the healthy, and all who eat well and sleep well, do not require it, ind are better without it. Fourth—That the carefully drawn statis tics of many insurance societies convinced me that total abstinence, so far from shortening life, distinctly and undisputa bly conducted to longevity. Fifth—Then 1 accumulated proof that drink is so far from being requisite to physical strength or intellectual force, that many of our greatest athletes, from the days of Samson onward, "whose drink was only of the crystal brook," have achieved without alcohol mightier feats than have ever been achieved with it. Drinking Habits and Success Aro Allen. Here are some words from John D. Rockefeller, spoken in his speech before the great I niversity of Chicago, to which he has given over $9,000,000. They de serve to lie printed in every paper in the land. He said to the young men: "Some of the foes which threaten your success may not be apparent to you until it is too late. If you are to succeed in life it will be because you master yourselves, and if you are to continue masters and not slaves you do not need that I should say to you here to-day that you must jealously guard the approach of any foe to your well being. How many a young man whom I knew in my school days went down be cause of his fondness for intoxicating drinks! No man has ever had occasion to regret that he was not addicted to the use of liquor. No woman has ever had oc casion to regret that she was not instru mental in influencing young men to use intoxicants. The chances for success are better to-day than ever before. Success is attained by industry, perseverance and pluck, coupled with any amount of hard work, and you need not expect to achieve it in any other wav." This is the esti mate of drinking habits formed by a man who has probably had opportunity to know and see as many young men succeed or fail as any other man in the land. It is fast becoming true that drinking hab its antl success in life will not go together. —Baptist Argus. A Horrible Traffic. A step which is most desirable is to re press the horrible iniquity, of which Eng land and Germany are specially guilty, of deluging with ardent spirits—often of the most villainous quality—the savage races of Africa and other countries, and so in curring the deadly curse of placing a stumbling block before the helpless child hood of the world. There are many evi dences to show what those whom we com placently call "the inferior races" think of this shameful crime. The name given in Africa to our strong drink is Shame water; the Maoris call it Rotten-water; the American Indians. Fire-water. "Drink is death," said the African chief Khama; "it is that and nothing else." "For every sincere Christian in India," said Archdea con Jeffries, of Bombay, "we have made a thousand drunkards." The Crusade In Brief. The devil's most helpful ally is the liquor traffic. Governmental law has enthroned the demon traffic. Drink, combined with disease, has de vastated the islands of Hawaii. Russia, horrified at the wholesale de generacy of her drunken peasantry, has adopted rigorous measures to remove them from temptation. France is so much alarmed at the dis grace of a drunken soldiery that the Min ister of War has issued an order prohib iting the sale of drink in barracks, camps and manoeuvring grounds.