Our mines are yielding products
worth over a billion dollars a year
and over a half of that grand total
represents iron anj coal.
It is a pity that Marconi's wirelesft
telegraph experiments were, of neces
sity, attended with so much publicity.
It would have made a fine surprise for
a world that has been so often disap
pointed that it has grown skeptical.
In 1900 there were in the United
States 373 boiler explosions, by which
268 persons were killed and 520
wounded. In Great Britain, during
t..e same period, only 24 persons were
killed and 65 wounded by boiler ex
plosions.
It may be that in time no seagoing
vessel will be considered equipped un
been provided with wireless telegraph
instrumnts. and that the duties of the
operators on board shit shall be as
constant in times of fog or darkness
as are those of the deck officer in
times of storm.
Every now and then some writer
calls attention to the fact that the
Latin quarter in Paris is not as merry
and picturesque as it is represented
in romance. It has been a matter of
note that none of its inhabitants ever
yet objected to getting rich enough
to move away from it.
Over 600 children were burned ta
death in London last year, as there- ,
suit of the vicious practice of parents i
to leave their young offspring in charge !
of premises containing open fires, j
lamps and matches. An attempt will '
be made to pass a law at the next ses- i
sion of parliament making the prac- ;
(ice a criminal offense and holding the j
parents or guardians responsible for i
death or injury in the event of a fire. j
The fire losses in the United States '
«re beyond reason. The United States \
should adopt some measures to check I
these ravages. England. France and I
Germany are now far ahead of this
republic in the precautions taken to
prevent the raising of thin walled fire- j
traps and in the restriction of super- i
heated rivalry among the insurance j
companies. The companies should get j
together and have a better under- j
standing among taemselves. In our I
principal cities the fire departments
do a great deal of vigorous and even
heroic work in fignting the flames
after they have got a start, but the
underwriters ought to put insuperable ;
difficulties in the way of owners who
seek immoderate insurance, while
they expose their buildings and !
stocks to danger, states the New York j
Tribune.
An echo of the Spanish-American j
war is the plan for a pelota court in '
New York City. This graceful
Spanish game is a variety of hand
ball, requiring of its players great
agility and considerable exercise of
strength. The pelota building could
easily be arranged so that other ball
games o* the Latin countries could be
played in it. Italian pallome. for ex
ample, is particularly worthy of in
troduction in the United States. The
combination of strength and agility
which it demanus, the superb poses
into which the body must fall if the
I eavy ball is to be fairly met on the
arm piece—all these make it easily
Hie most beautiful of games played
with a ball. It allows no opportunity
for the and the needless
crawls which too often discredit so
fine a game as baseball.
Towing has long been one of the
more important industries of the Great
Lakes, and long lines of barges, usu
ally with stump-line masts, and often
with none at all, dragging along in the
trail of a tug or steam barge, have
been among the most familiar sights
to wanderers on these waters. Year
by year, in the race so far as possible
to increase capacities and to reduce
dead-loads, the size of the towed
barges has been increased. Now. how
ever, the limits of economy have been
reached, and the increase in size of
the barges carried so far that the
owners are confronted by new costs.
The boats are so large as to be un
wieldly in harbors or narrow channels,
while during heavy storms, and espe
cially when towed light, they present
bo broad a surface to the wind that
often the towing cables are snapped
or the towing steamer dragged
toward lee shores. In the past season
an unusual number of such accidents
has happened. Vesselmen generally
have come to favor the self-propelled
.steamer, a3 safer, more easily and more
expeditiously handled. Many barge
owners/ have decided to convert their
craft, though at a cost of $40,000 "or
$50,00Q each. Not a barge, it is said,
is now building on the lakes, and the
experts believe the system of towing
great distances doomed to disappear,
anco within five years.
The daughter ot the Apache chiol
Geronimo is to marry one of the
wealthiest men in Texas. L«t us
cheer up. America may soon have an
aristocracy of its own.
In a Dublin paper some time since
was a biographical notice of Robes
pierre, which concluded as follows:
"This extraordinary man left no chil
dren behind him, except one broth
er, who was killed at the same time."
The electric railroad to be built be
tween Brighton and London is to be
equipped with Pullman cars, and the
47 miles between the popular wat-;r
ing place and the British metropolis
are to be covered in 30 minutes. This
may be counted as another American
triumph.
The world has never seen such a
rapid accumulation of vast fortune?
as are amassed in the United States
every year. It is a shame and a dis
grace that, in the mid3t of all this ex
cessive opulence, any worthy person
should suffer from proverty, exclaims
the Kansas City Star.
There seems to be no danger that
the world's supply of diamonds will
fail for a long time to come. The Dc
Beers Mining company of South Af
rica is now marketing diamonds tc
the value of $3,500,000 annually, and
states that, with its present holdings
it can maintain this output for 144
years.
The Railway and Locomotive En
gineering Journal is of the opinion
that perfection has about been reached
in the mechanical appliances used tc
insure safety of railway travel, anJ
that it is now time to turn to the hu
mane part of the problem. This papei
asserts that "in the past two years
two-thirds of the accidents that have
occurred on the big roads were due t.r>
overworking the men."
In working to stamp out duelling in
Germany there is no doubt that Km
peror William will have trouble. Tin
German officer seems to cling to the
custom. The moral courage required
to frown at a rule of centuries is as
yet not prevalent in army circles. The
selfish pride, the superciliousness anc
the ignorance wnich aid in cultivating
the present day duel will have to be
overcome before the Emperor can
abolish the pernicious and ruinous
practice.
The difficulties of the English lan
guage are proverbial. Here is an apt
illustration. An eminent German
pianist had, with williug good nature
given half a dozen pieces at a private
entertainment, but his hostess, wit.l)
that lack of consideration for tlw
physical comforts of performers which
is not at all uncommon, wanted mote
The herr professor wa3 too tired, so
with a polite bow to the lady, he said:
| "Madam, der ghost is ready, but dei
| meat is feeble." He meant, "The
' spirit is willing, but the llesh is weaU
It is only a question of time wher
! woman will be freed from much o!
j the drudgery of the household, ami
i this will allow ner more time in whiei
to pursue her multiple interests. Th<
women of Longwood, a fashionable
suburb of Chicago, have establishes
a co-operative home and achieved tli-;
record of 40,000 meals for SSOOO. Th«
co-operative society owns a clufc
house, where the families assemble fot
meals. So satisfactory has been the
enterprise that a garden has been
worked with a saving on vegetable;
of S3OO a year. Each family has its
own table and its own silverware. Not
only has the woman member escaped
household drudgery and responsibility
but there has been a great saving in
the cost of living. This last item is
bound to lead to a wider adoption ct
the system, thinks the Philadelphia
Record.
The New York state railroad com
missioners' report shows 2345 acci
dents on the railroads of the state foi
the year that ended June 30, 1901, ia
which no fewer than 795 persons were
killed outright and 1555 were injured
This was a death list longer by 124
names than that of the preceding
year. The fact is worth noting that oi
the 795 persons killed on New York
railroads in the year covered by this
last report only 16 were pas
sengers. This accords with the
latest report covering the whole
country, which states the total
number of lives lost in the yeai
at 7865, of whom only 249 were pas
sengers. As the total number of pas
sengers carried on United States rail
roads for the same year was nearly
577,000,000, it is a nerve-quieting de
duction that the chance of death by
railroad accident winch every person
takes who boards a train is one Li
2,308,000. On the whole, about the
eafest place for a person is on an
American railroad train.
I THE CONTRARINESS OF MARY. J
6 By Elizabeth McCracken. S
"Have you decided yet, dear, wheth
er you will goto California with ua,
or out to the farm with Aunt Rachel?
We won't urge either course, but you
must decide something before Satur
day."
Mary's mother stood in the doorwav,
buttoning her gloves. She looked anx
iously at Mary, who sat on the lowest
step, holding three o'.en letters that
she evidently was eager to read.
"Well, mother dear, here is my last
'complete and unconditional' deci
sion."
"Really, Mary? You aren't going to
have another before night?"
"No, mother, I've wavered long
enough."
"You certainly have."
"Don't be 'sarcastical' to, your one
and only Mary," said the one aad only
Mary, with an embrace that almost
ruined her mother's chiffon ruehings.
"You see, mother, if I goto Aunt
Rachel's, I shall get so bored that
Aunt Rachel will regret she ever
asked me, and forget that she had ever
labeled me a 'sunny presence.' Of
course it would be near enough for
Cousin Burney to come out and stir
us up; but Burney is so absorbed in
his summer hospital that he can talk
of nothing else but slum children with
the measles. Burney is a perfect bore
—at times —since he got his M. D."
"My dear —"
"Now don't be shocked with your
own Mary. 1 don't mean anything
dreadful, but I'm not interested in
measles and germs. Now if I go with
you I'll have a lovely time, and Aunt
Rachel will be none the worse in the
end. So I am going with you. Are
you glad?" she asked, with a wheed
lesotr.e smile.
"Of course 1 want you myself, dear;
but Aunt Raehel does need the 'sunny
presence'. She is so lonely! If you
should change your mind again, re
member that Aunt Rachel will enjoy
having as many of your friends visit
you as the house will hold," said her
mother.
"Ye-es, I know: but 1 shall not
change my mind now. In fact, I don't
want togo to Aunt Rachel's, mother.
I don't like farms, and —I would rather
go with you."
A little shadow came over her
mother's face; but she merely said;
"Then it is decided that you go With
us."
"Aren't you glad?"
"I am always glad to have you with
me. Your father and I would be quite
desolate indeed without you; but.,
dear, I wish you would ltarn to be
more interested —"
"In uninteresting people? Perhaps
I shall some time, but I am so tired of
them now! Burney doesn't know any
other kind; and really, mother, 1
couldn't stand a whole summer filled
with a farm —and—and Burney's in
evitable enthusiasm over dirty little
children —aside from Aunt Rachel,
who is always urging me to help
Burney. No. it's dreadful! But I don't
believe in Burney'3 giving up his sum
mer to keeping children alive who
have nothing to live for."
"We won't discuss that again." her
mother said, gravely. "I must go
now. Good-by, dear."
Mary returned to her seat on the
steps. "Mother doesn't understand,"
she thought, wistfully. "1 never want
ed Burney to study medicine; and to
give his time to saving lives that are
better ended, when he might at least
save valuable ones, it is too much. 1
simply won't stay near him all cum
mer and listen to him! It will teach
him a lesson," she concluded virtuous
ly.
She had never wholly forgiven her
cousin because he had, against her
advice, studied medicine with the in
tention of devoting himself to the fre.
wards of the city hospitals for chil
dren.
"Why don't you do something that
will benefit humanity, Burney." she
had repeatedly said, "instead of keep
ing children alive who have no past
no present and no future but misery?"
"You don't understand," Burney as
repeatedly had said, "that I am reliev
ing their misery for the moment. You
don't know what they may have to
live for. They are little human chil
dren and have a right to their lives;
they want them, and I shall help them
keep them."
"You are very foolish and sentimen
tal," Mary said; but possibly she re
spected his foolishness and sentimen
tality more than she admitted.
"I think Burney might at least con
sider his family and come to Califor
nia, instead of setting up a summer
Fresh Air Hospital," she said plain
tively to herself, as she unfolded h?r
first letter.
It was from Aunt Rachel; and it
said, in part, "1 hope tiiat you will
spend the summer with me,
dearie. I am getting to be an old
woman, and won t ~Ave many more
summers. You may fill the house
I with 'pretty maids all in a row,' if
you like. . . Do be kind to Burney.
He is doing a noble work. Let him
tell you about it."
"As if he didn't, day and night!"
ejaculated Mary. " 'Do—be —kind to
Burney.' I'm not unkind to him, and
he is chasing a shadow."
She began to read her second letter.
It was from a distant friend, who said
in it: "Father says your cousin, D,\
Burney Harriston, is doing such a fine
piece of work this summer, with his
Fresh Air Hospital for poor children.
Do tell me about it and let me help if
1 can. I suppose you are absorbed in
, it. What kind of children are they—
I Irish or Italian? How much it will
mean to them! And how unselfish of
your cousin! I remember seaing him
ones at college. Is he as nice as he
used to be?"
Mary sat, with her chin in her hands
gazing into spate. '"'Absorbed in it!'
I've never even seen it.l suppose I
shall have to or, Grace will think 1 am
a heartless wretch. Perhaps I am;
but—Burney is so exasperating!"
Her third letter had i'ailen to the
floor. She sa\agely pulled it from its
envelope. It was, as she knew, from
her cousin, Dr. Burney Harriston —
who was so exasperating.
"My dear Mistres3 Mary (quite con
trary)." (Burney is getting more hor
rid every day," commented Mistress
Mary.) "Won't you come down and
see my garden grow," before you go
away? I know you will see how val
uable all lives are if you will just see
and know some that are different from
yours. You judge too much in the
light of your own theories." ("The
audacity of the boy!" exclaimed the
theorist.) "You don't realize that the
poorest, smallest human life is a part
of the plan of the world, anil can't be
disregarded or forgotten.
"You'll come down on Thursday,
won't you? Picase do. When are you
going to California?"
Mary slowly put the letter in the en
velope.
Perhaps I haven't been very nice to
Burney. He is trying to do good, but
lie is carried away by enthusiasm. 1
don't know much about slum people,
but I do know how they live. They
are just like animals; they have no j
higher natures. They don't have any j
ideals."
Mary pulled out Burney's letter and 1
read it for the second time,
"I'll go Thursday. I might as well: |
and Grace wants to heir about it."
She went upstairs to her room and I
wrote a note to Burney. In the pos>t- j
script, she said, "1 am not yet abso- |
lutely certain that 1 shall goto Cal:
ternia. If I do it will be next week."
Dr. Burney Harriston's Fresh Air
Hospital for < hildren was merely a
large house, very near the sea and not
far from the city, and it had room for
twenty children. Interested and gen
erous friends had provided Burney
with funds for the work, and five or
six nurses, who expected no summn
employment hud volunteered their
services.
"Why, Burney!" excla'med Mary on
Thursday morning, as they approach
ed the hospital. "It looks like an or
dinary house."
It is an ordinary house —only with
more children in it than most houses
have."
"What kind of children are they—
Irish?" asked Mary, mindful of her
friend's questions.
"Some of them. There are all kinds.
They aren't very ill, most of them.
They merely need a little special as
sistance and good food and fresh air.
Some of them would have died without
it."
"O Burney, wouldn't it have been
better lor them if they had?" asked
—ary.
"Mary, how can you ask that?" said
the young doctor reproachfully.
"It seems better to me. Burney. But
don't look so shocked. Show me your
hospital. It is very much like a hos
pital inside, except that the rooms
haven't so many beds; and there are
so many windows that its like behig
outdoors."
"That's the important part of it,"
said Burnc-y, eager to explain. "You
see tho children need principally ah'
and they get a lot this way; and it
does them so much good!" Burney
fell into Mary's habit of italicizing,
and Mary smiled at him more ap
provingly.
"Now, Mary, I have togo arouud and
see the patients. Will you come or
will you wander about as you like?"
"I'll wander, thank you," said Mary.
"It will be more interesting."
She felt out of her element with the
nurses; they evidently looked upon
her as superfluous, and Mary was not
accustomed to being viewed in any
such light.
She peeped into the dining-room,
smiled at the queer kitchen, examined
with interest the cots on the broad
piazza, and finally went into one of
the cool rooms, through the door of
which she saw four little white beds.
The little children in the beds were
asleep, and Mary would have left the
rooru had her attention not been at
tracted by a man who sat beside the
bed in the corner, with his heavy eyes
fixed upon the small yellow head rest
ing on the i illow. He was, to all ap
pearances, a commonplace Irish lab
orer, but something in his utter ab
sorption in the child aroused Mary's
curiosity.
She stepped lightly across the room
and looked at the smail, white face,
with its pathetic mouth and droll,
little turned up nose.
"What a cunning little girl!" she
said to the man, resolving to scold
Burney for failing to tell her the chil
dren in the hospital were so dear.
"Sure, miss, an' it's thot she is. She's
me only wan, and she's the amidge of
her mother. She's homely, but she's
real cute."
"Why, she's pretty!" said Mary, ar
gumentatively.
"An' do you think so, miss? Well
an' I've seen wuss-lookin' wans." He
carefully smothed the coverlet with
his coarse red hand.
"She isn't very ill, is she?" Mary
asked.
"Where is her mother?" she added
suddenly remembering that the mar:
had mentioned her.
"Ah, miss, a'ue's dead; an' me little
gur-rl would ha* linen dead, too, but
lor Docthor Hariilton. An' do you
know Docthnr Harriston ■"•'-g''"
"Oh, yes, he is my cousin. 1 know
him very well," said Mary.
"t;uru ii. t, a ~aa ye bo
knowin'; and it's proud ye must be
to be haviu' him for a cousin." Mary
had never happened to take this view
of Burney, and she made no reply.
After awhile she said, "is your iittlo
girl very ill?" Her theories with re
gard to the value of such a child's life
began to tremble somewhat.
"No, an' she's gettin' well now; but
miss, it was sick she was. Ah, but
Docthor Harriston worked, miss, for
me gur-rl I It was near to dyiu' she
was, mic3, when he took her in here,
an' now she's gettin' weil!"
Mary's eyes were large with wonder
and interest.
"The idea of Burney's never telling
rue anything like this!" she thought
fiercely. The man cared for this little
girl exactly as other men cared for
their little girls; and Burney—perhaps
she hadn't encouraged Burney to tell
her.
"And if she hadn't got well," she
said to the man, "would it —it would
have been dreadfully hard,
wouldn't —"
"Hard? Ah, miss, I can see as yo
don't knew now a mon feels wid his
gur-rl. She's all the loife of me is
for, miss. If she'd died, it's nothin' I'd
had left to mo. It's the most them
that's pore has, their children."
He gently touched the child's yellow
hair, not noticing Mary was silent.
"It's next wake she's to lave here,
miss, and it's hard it'll be for her be
fore she's strong, wid me gone all
day,"he said musingly.
Mary no longer hesitated. Let her
come and spend a week with me after
she leaves here. Please do! I'm go- I
ing to stay all summer on my aunt's I
farm, and I'm going next week. It is I
only ten miles out to it, and you can
easily come out when Aunt Rachel
sends in for groceries; and I am Dr.
Harriston's cousin," said Mary with a
suspicious break In her voice.
"Oh. it's glad I'd be, miss, and it ,,! : I
yourself I'll be askin' the saints to !
bless, together with Docthor Harris
ten."
He took Mistress Mary's patrician
little hand In his hard red one, and j
pressed it with a fevor that made her '
i
wince.
"Sure, ye have Dr. Harriston's own 1
way wid ye."
Mary's chin went up slightly; then ;
she laughed sofily at herself, and
asked the little girl's name and ad
dress.
"I must say good-by now and find
Dr. Harriston," she said. "He will
arrange everything with you."
She went swiftly to the hall, where
her cousin stood talking earnestly to '
one of the nurses.
"Burney, come here this moment!" !
she commanded, "What do you mean
by not telling me the truth about the
people in this hospital?"
"Why, Mary—"
"You never told me the children
were sweet, and that their fathers and
mothers wcro fond of them."
"Why, 1 should think you would
have known that," he began, but Mmy
interrupted.
"You needn't begin to make ex
fuses, Burney Harriston! I'm going
[ home now. It doesn't matter whether
: you can go now or not; I can go alone
| —but you'll hear from me about this,
! Burney Harriston!"
I Poor Burney was kept in suspense
! for three days. Mary had suddenly
' gone to spend two days with Aunt
Rachel, and Burney could get no hint
i of the revenge that she was contem
j plating.
"Mary always has been contrary,"
| her mother said, and Burney did not
j see the laugnter in her eyes.
Finally he did "hear" from Mary.—
lonIon twelve pages of her best monogram
j paper,—and these are the words tie
j read in the concluding paragraphs:
"Aunt Rachel says the house w'll
I hold ten children at a time. You can
j send them for ten days each as soon
' as they are well. Grace is coming t)
I stay all summer, and so are two of the
| other girls, so we can easily take care
| of them. The money father gave me
! in place of my tickets to and from
j California will be enough to pay for
I the things they need. First of ai!,
i though, Burney Harriston, you will
I just explain, if you can, why, in the
hours you have talked about your slum
children, you never happened to men
tion that they were sweet, and that
they made as much difference to theii
lathers and mother's as any children,
i —Youth's Companion
Clllnnxf lloiu-ilv.
As for the honesty of these peopK
I appeal to every English merchant
1 or banker, from Pekin to Hongkong,
to answer if he ever heard of a dis
honest Chinese merchant or banker.
So far from that, not only has every
English bank two Chinamen to re
ceive and hand out money, but every
bank in Japan lias the same. The
English will tell you, half in jest, that
| the Japanese is an Oriental Yankee,
i and does not trust his own people;
1 and they will tell you, half in earnest.
! that the English bankers employ
; Chinese to handle their money be
| cause they never make mistakes.
| These people of China have never
had anything like a bankrupt law. if
a man cannot pay his debts, or some
one does; not secretly come forward
and pay them, at the end of each
year, he has "lost his face." and so
he dies by his own hand. Yet. with
; all their piteous poverty, they have
S no such words as "hard times," for
j everything must be settled up at tho
i end of the year. There can be no ex-
I tension of time. Confucius forbade it.
i —Joaquin Miller, in the North AaierJ
: can Review.
THE GREAT DESTROYER
SOME BTARTLINC FACTS ABOUT
THE VICE OF INTEMPERANCE.
I'oem: FUok Off Your ratters—Thank* tc
tli« Louk ami Uarueit Crusade th«
Consumption of Spirit* in Thli Coun
try aruwi Lom and Leii,
Brothers, awaken! Intemperance is arm
ing;
House all your energies, quickly prepare;
Though our great enemy s hosts are alarm
ing,
Fear not, determine to do and dare.
ILouse yo! No longer be dreaming and doz
ing; -
Roll up your sleeves, there is work to be
done;
Gird on your amor, no weak points ex
posing;
Onward, the victory yet may be won!
Truly, intemperance needeth opposing,
Countless it# crimes and its cruoltias are;
Tear off the mask, all its eviis exposing,
Publish its deeds and its doing afar.
Hundreds ou hundreds are listlessly lying
Helpless in ruin's lap, oh, what a sight!
Hundreds and hundreds in darkness are
dying.
liouse them and bring them to life and to
light.
Forward! Oh, forward! on Ood's help re
lying-
Waver not, falter not, earnestly on!
Onward! still onward! defeat still defying,
Rest not till you have the victory won.
Oh, ye enslaved ones! friendless, forsaken,
Save by the few who would gain your re
lease.
From the indifference that wraps you
awaken.
Sign ye the pledge and our numbers in
crease.
Longer remain not inert and inactive;
Liberty lingers yet, let her not flee.
Wear not the tyrant's yoke, trembling and
tractive;
Fling off your fetters and dare to be free.
Some Comparative Statements.
A writer in the Fortnightly Review, Mu.
John Holt Schooling, has presented somi
comparative statements concerning drink
in the United States. England, France and
Germany. These statements, which are
based upon a careful study of available sta
tistics, will do much to dissipate current
errors on this question. They yield the
following results: In France the total con
sumption of beer, spirits and wine for
drink in the year 1000 was 330 gallons for
every ten of the population; in the United
Kingdom, 332 gallons; in Germany. 309
gallons, and in tho United States, 147 gal
lons for every ten inhabitants.
The great difference in the drinking hab
its of these nations is seen in their respec
tive consumption of spirits and fermented
liquors. A further analysis of tho statis
tics shows that the consumption of wine in
France was 204 gallons to every ten inhab
itants, of beer 02 gallons and of spirits 20
gallons. In Germany the account stands:
Fifteen gallons of wine, 275 of beer and 19
of spirits. In the United Kingdom: Four
gallons of wine. 317 of beer and 11 of spir
its. In the United States: Three gallons
of wine, 133 of beer and 11 of spirits for
every ten inhabitants.
The figures show that while the French
consume more wine and spirits than any of
the three other nations, much the lowest
drinking consumption is in the United
States. The American total is less than
half the consumption per head of the other
three countries. Formerly the French used
to sneer at their English neighbors as
drunken savages, but now the tables are
turned. Gin drinking has declined in Eng
land, : nd consumption of the vicious an
sir.the has terribly increased in Franco. It
is suggested that the superior sobriety of
American workmen gives them a great ad
vantage over European workmen who are
muddled with beer or unnerved by absinthe.
l?ut the superiority of the American peo
• pie "in this respect is what accounts for a
great deal more.
I Tho American people applying (heir in
telligence to this matter are finding out
J that the drinking habit is not good for
them. In France, since 1000, some impor-
I tant temperance reforms have been ef
| fected, not by coercive legislation, but bv
j abolishing the octroi or municipal tax of
l Paris on wine, and by other measures for
I discouraging the consumption of absinthe
and brandy.
A New Way to Reform.
T?. F. Stcvick, of Council Bluffs, Towx
has caused to be published in all news
papers of that city this notice addressed
to the saloonkeepers:
"My downfall aud domestic troubles are
! all caused by drinkiug. 1 have said sev-
I eral times that I would quit, but I never
) did quit. Now my wife has filed suit for
' divorce, and I realize what a fool I have
I been. I have notified alt saloonkeepers
i not to sell me liquor, and have told them
I would prosecute them afterward if they
t did so. When my friends ask me to drink
j tlu- bartender will refuse to serve me. My
! wife has consented to withdraw her suit
| aud I intend to brace up. The saloons
j that sell me liquor will have a damage suit
I ou tliair hands."
Tlif Cost ot Crime.
I Mr. Eugene Smith, an authority on orirfi-
I inal statistics, in a paper rently read before
I the National Prison' Association at Cleve
land, presented an array of figures that
should certainly arrest the attention of
every sincere patriot.
He declared the first cost of crime in
taxes upon city, town and county for mere
policing criminals is about $200,000,000 an
nually in this country. Besides there is the
cost of 250.000 professionals in crime who
reap an average gain by their profession of
jlCOi' each year, or $100,000,000, a loss to
the community. This makes a total of
$600,000,000, exceeding the entire value ot
the cotton or wheat crop of the United
States.
We Cun Abolish It.
It is nonsense to say that we cannot
abolish the liquor traffic. The American
people can do what they will, and if every
man who has been disgusted with and is
to-day personally in rebellion against the
saloon's infamy, spoke his mind and did
hi< will, the traißc would be abolished in a
<i*r-
Wholly Worthless.
Men who had standing in chemistry anfl I
medicine before Atwater had been thought .
of by the uublic, declare Professor At- j
water's conclusions with regard to the food
value of alcohol to bo wholly worthless,
aud assert that his experiments have dem
onstrated no new or pertinent fact in tno
matter.
The Crusade in ISrief.
Generally speaking the drunkard is a
responsible person given over to se.t-indu.-
genee.
Never has public opinion been so respon
sive and so strong in its demand for dras
tic steps being taken to suppress the drink
evil.
The right-minded people of the country
will have to light the battle all over again
in behalf of temperance instruction in the-
Bchools.
The sanction of college beer drinking by
the authorities of Harvard and the Bos
ton Polytechnic Institute is not passing
unchallenged.