Kenan Perhaps there ought to be some sense of satisfaction over the fact that the seventeen-year locust does not come ofterer. There seems to be no gocd reason why a steam, or other engine should be permitted to traverse the common streets and roads more rapidly than any other vehicle. gasolene Tennessee now has 1445 names on its State pension roll of old soldiers, and the total amount paid to them in the last year was $149,220. No more names can be added unless the Legislature increases the appropriation. The pen- sioners are divided into three classes: the first receive $300 a year each, the second $200, and the third $100. In all but eleven of the fifty-two States and Territories the male out- numbers the female population. These eleven States are along the Atlantic seaboard. California contains the greatest excess of men, the recorded number being 156,009; Minnesota comes second, with 113,583; Texas third, with 109,000, and Pennsylvania fourth, with 103,087. The order recently issued by the Canadian authorities forbidding China- men or Japanese from cutting shingle belts or logs from the crown lands will, jt is thought, drive hundreds of the Mongolians into the United States, despite the Chinese Exclusion law. The Chinese had been extensively em- ployed in cutting timber in Canada, and it alleged that white men are now making $100 a bead by smuggling them acress the border into the State of Washington. I Senators Frye and Proctor are en- thusiastic anglers, and every year the latter goes trout fishing in Vermont at sunrise on the 1st of May. The other day Mr. Frye was sitting in his chair in the Senate, gazing at the ceil- ing, when he was handed the follow- ing note: “Dear Frye—-How can you sit there when the ice is out of the lake? Prcctor.” Senator Frye is said to have sighed so loudly upon reading this missive that his colleagues felt sure he had received bad news. British Consul Wyndham at Chicago has found it necessary to explain that he never said that all Englishmen coming there are lazy and worthless. He says that in a report to his home Government there was a paragraph to the effect that many Englishmen that are lazy and worthless come to ‘America and create bad impressions, and he naively adds: “Consuls are brought into contact with the worst of their people in a foreign country, and I am in a better position to know about the lazy and worthless ones than the successful Englishmen in Chicago.” ' ‘Australia has, it seems, more mem- bers of Parliament per head of popula- tion than any other civilized commun- ity on earth. The mere statement that, excluding New Zealand, Australia pos- sesses no fewer than fourteen houses of Parliament, counting 751 members, for a population of less than 4,000,000, is, the Antipodean Review of Reviews remarks, a bit of arithmetic calculated to “make all sober Australians sigh, and the rest of the outside world grin.” Germany, with a population of 50,000,- 000, has 459 members of Parliament; Australia, with less than 4,000,000, has 7501 members of Parliament. This is the years of the seventeen- year. locusts. A hint comes from Tu- nis which may be valuable to the Agri- cultural Department. A plague of lo- custs has descended on that colony of France, and the French Government once more shows its possession of the national trait of thrift. It has in- formed the natives that locusts are very good eating, and that they make up for the lost grain by eating the in- sects. To help out this work and add to the tastiness of the dish the Govern- ment has made large shipments of salt to the affected districts for distribution among the tribes that dwell there. It is admitted by the Medical Record that -an hav American whose ancestors e lived in the United States for sev- eral generations is “inclined to be a nervous, excitable, energetic and some- what dyspeptic individual.” Were it not for the fresh blood taken in by im- nigration the standard of our popula- tion, the writer apparently thinks, would fall below that of Europe. This is by way of answer to the charges of Dr. James Cantlie, an English physi- cian, who holds up the typical citizen of the United States as a horrible ex- ample of “a tall, gaunt, dyspeptic-vis- aged man, with hollow cheeks,” and hopes that such “objects” will not be- come common in Great Britain. Be- tween the British detractor and the American apologist the ordinary Ameri- car seems to fare poorly. ISLAND. TREASURE ISL BY FRANK LILLIE POLLOCK, On that white Caribbean Key, Uncharted, lost these Bored years, Rests in the "keepin of the sea The secret of the buccaneers. Tarnished and soiled with rust and mold, Heap jeweled poignards, musketoozs, Silks, sacramental cups of gold, Ingots and pesos and doublcons. A fathom deep beneath the sand The Sve gems, blood-stained, beam and bur, And wait “he lost adventuser’s hand, The midmght hail, the crew’s return. Remembering the torches’ flare When Blackbeard brought ashore, Landmarked the spot and sunk them there, Beat back to sea—and comes no more. the lists Unless, maybe, at black of night, Up from the phosphorescent sea 4p antom craft makes for the bight, ud anchors off the ghostly Key; And all the fierce dead fighting men From deep-sea grave or gibber. -chain Riot upon the beach ae As when they bled the Spanish Main. But when the dawn wind gives the sign 2 kk to the dark the shades retire, railing along the shuddering brine > i of evanescent fire. And silence on that haunted: shore: - Renews her endless reign alone, Pulsed by the long tide’s rising roar, The surf’s withdrawing mondtone. —Youthls Companion. - HER MOTHER’S PRIVATE SE SECRETARY. BY. BY HONORA. IRIAM,” said Mrs. Oldfield, “there is just one more letter to write. I have left it till the last because it will let you into a family secret; a very happy one, dear.” "The mother smiled fondly at the handsome daughter, who sat in a low 6¢ chair at her side. The girl's face flushed, she bent her head over a note- book whieh lay in her lap, and turned a pencil nervously between her fingers. The soft autumn breeze from the open window blew her brown hair into ten- drils, and it clustered softly about her white neck. The mother sat for a mo- ment, watching a rosy flush ebb up to the white forehead. “Is there no chance for Arthur, Mi- 1 riam?’ she asked gently. The girl lifted her head with an haughty gesture—it was an odd move- ment which characterized her as a child. The mother had often laughed at it in the little girl; now the pose seemed to belong superbly to the tall, splendid woman. Miriam looked into the loving eyes bent upon her and shook her head with perfect decision. Mrs. Oldfield smiled. “Well! to the letter, dear,” she said. “Address it to Robinson W. Hawley, Esq., 242 St. James Building, New York.” Miriam’s fingers moved quiveringly across the paper. “My Dear Mr. Hawley.” Mrs. Oldfield paused and put her Land across her eyes as if she were thinking. “This is not an easy.letter to write, Miriam. It is bard to give away one of your own, no matter how much you trust a man.” The girl sat gazing into the sunshiny garden. “It is just like one of mother’s droll, original little tricks to break the news to me in this fashion,” she thought. “Mother never does anything as one would expect her te.” A smile hovered about her lips while she put into rapid shorthand characters her mother’s dic- tation. “I can assure you, my dear Mr. Haw- ley, of the complete surprise your let- ter brought to me. Of course, I say yes, since the happiness of one so near and so dear to me is bound up in such an answer. No one so well as I can tell you how wisely you have chosen a wife. The loss in our home of one who is so dearly loved I cannot yet realize, but I know that when I give to you my sister Elizabeth, I—” Miriam dropped her pencil and gazed at her mother with a whitening face. She sprang suddenly to her feet. The notebook fell to the fioor. “Mother!” she cried, with a long, sobbing breath, ‘do you mean Eljza- beth—our Elizabeth——?" “Yes, dear,” said Mrs. “hadn’t you guessed it?’ / “My—aunt—Elizabeth?’ The girl’s question was a piteous whisper. “My daughter!” cried the mother, “what is the matter?” Miriam had sunk upon the low chair. The mother drew her gently to her arms as if she were a child again and caressed the ripping brown hair. “Doesn’t it make you happy, Mi- riam?”’ she asked. *I think it would, dear, if you knew him as well as we do.” “He is—he is not worthy of Aunt Elizabeth!” cried the girl passionately. “Miriam, what do you know about Mr. Hawley? You have never met him.” “I know—but nobody is good enough for Aunt Elizabeth. Mother, please excuse your private secretary. I'm going for a tramp. I've got to be used to being left alone in the family.” Mrs. Oldfield sat gazing down the country road after the retreating figure of her daughter. Miriam was a creat- ure of moods, occasionally thoughtful, but oftener merry and radiating sun- shine. “Was it jealousy?” thought the mother wonderingly. Her sister, Eliza- beth, who was cnly two years older than her own daughter, had come into her home at their mother’s death and the children had -grown up together with such a bond of affection as exists between few sisters. Mrs. Oldfield had rare wisdom in the trainieg of chil- dren. In Elizabeth she found one tem- perament. The child cared for nothing but music. So every advantage had beer given her. Her own daughter had shown such a wonderful love of housekeeping that in her training the mother carried out some thoroughly original ideas. As soon as the little Oldfield, girl learred to write intelligently she had proudly taken the place of her mother’s private secretary. When in- vitaticns had to be sent out they were written in a big, bold, childish hard. The housekeeping acccunts were bal anced each week in the same un- | mother We formed chirography, but with the neat- ness of an experienced bookkeeper. Social notes and family correspondence were frequently trusted to the enthu- siastic little girl. Before she went into high school she had begun to make her- self indispensable to her mother, from whom club circles and society exacted large dues. In school the girl added eagerly to ber other studies a portion of a business education and a domestic science training. Her one thought was how to make herself as valuable as pos- sible, her mother’s private secretary. She had returned from her four years at college with a poise of manner and an executive ability in household and social affairs which astonished even the mother. Her nature was a large, gen- erous, gracious one, and Mrs. Oldfield felt puzzled over the girl's strange out- burst of feeling. She was sure she was too great-hearted for jealousy; it could not be that. It must be the thought of parting. She wished now that she had broken the news more tactfully. She had imagined Miriam would accept it with delight. She turned to her desk to write the letter to Mr. Hawley her- self. She sighed while she folded the sheet and put it lingeringly in the en- velope. It hurt her to think of the breaking up of the home circle and of Miriam's grief. The girl returned from her tramp in time for luncheon. The bracing fall air and wind had blown a magnificent color into her cheeks and whipped the rebellious strands of her hair into clus- tering curls, but there was a new thoughtfulness and a shade of trouble about the glowing face which the mother felt rather than saw. She did not speak again of the prospective wed- ding, tactfully setting it aside for other topics. Late in the afternoon Mrs. Old- field drove to the depot to meet her young sister, who was returning from a few days’ visit in Boston. ° “Do not speak to Miriam of the en- cagement,” said Mrs. Oldfield, while the horse jogged leisurely homeward. “Why ?’ asked Elizabeth, with sur- prise. “She feels the breaking of sisterly ties far more than I had any idea she would. I have seldom seen her give way so completely as she did to-day. Let her come to you to talk it over when she feels like it.” a That night Miriam came. "Elizabeth sat curled up in a big chair‘ before a crackling wood fire. She was a luxu- rious creature, who loved warmth and color and beauty. She had tossed a few sticks of driftwood -among the glowing embers. Long tongues of blue and green flame shot up like a weird illumination. Miriam drew a low chair in front of the hearth and wrapped her arms about her knees. It was another childish pose which had clung to her. Elizabeth smiled when she noticed it. “I suppose you are very happy, Eliz- abeth?’ said the girl slowly, “and I ought to say all sorts of lovely’ things to make you—happier. That is the cus- tom, is it not?’ “Yes, only I want you to feel your congratulations, Miriam. You will, I think, when you come to know Robin— as well as I do.” “Tell me all about it—where you met him, when you were engaged and— everything.” - Elizabeth smiled happily. “I met Rob two years ago in Switz- erland, when your mother and I were coaching with the Hamiltons. I went back-to my studies in Paris. We cor- responded in a friendly sort of way un- til last spring. One afternoon when I left Marchesi’s he was waiting for me on the sidewalk. I had fancied him in America; I could not believe for a min- ute it was Robin. That evening he asked me to marry him. We agreed to keep it a secret. He is associated in business with an old uncle who does not want him to marry, and I—""Eliz- abeth laughed blithely—“well, 1 had talked so idiotically for years about being wedded to my art that I—well, I did not feel like announcing our