FREELAND TRIBUNE.
ESTABLISHED 1888.
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lo Oic Tribune Printing Company, Limited,
The curious suggestion has been
made in Rouen that the trolley wires
in the streets shall be subject to use
by the fire department The idea is
that pumps capable of being electric
ally driven shall be installed in a num
ber of suitable positions, to be switched
on to the trolley wires as occasion re
quires.
Sir Harry Johnston, after exploiting
Uganda, announces that the okapi is
probably the last remarkable unknown
animal that will he discovered, al
though he found the skins of several
beasts new to science in the Congo for
est. He saya there is no special pygmy
language. The pygmies speak the
tongue of the forest native, though
they employ gasps instead of conson
ants.
Scnor Carlos Escrlbana, a Peruvian
gentleman, has written a history which
is only 100 words in length, and was
awarded a gold medal offered by the
Society of the Founders of Indepen
dence, Lima, for the best history of
Peru comprised within that number of
words. The society might have found
more suitable subjects for frealf ex
periments in literature than the chron
ic's of its own country.
A..
The United States consul-general at
Vienna reports to the state department
that over 25,000 horses a year are now
slaughtered and sold for food in nearly
200 meat markets in the Austrian cap
ita!. Tr.e cost at retail of horse meat
is about one-fourth per pound that of
beef, and hence its rapidly Increasing
consumption by the poorer people. It
is an old maxim that ' me outside of
a horse is good for the inside of a
man." After a prejudice rooted In cen
turies of habit has worn away, the
horse may be finally adjudged equally
good for internal and external appli
cation.
• V
The Jacksonville Times-Union grows
eloquent about oranges, and says: "The
oranges are moving, and the good
times must come again. Let others
take their gold from the gloomy depths
of the eari.il; Florida gathers hers un
der God's own heaven, and finds it
colored by tne royal sun himself, fla
vored by the dew and blessed by the
stai-3. Watch the stands at the fair,
and see if oranges were ever fairer or
sweeter; lift your faces as the freight
cars pass and then wonder wnetlier
ambrosia ever gave sucn promise of
the gladness of heaven as those long
trains leave on the pcrfume-lailen air."
English art critics are wrought up
just now over the question of a finger.
It grows out of the statue erected In
Manchester to Gladstone, in which he
is represented in the attitude of de
livering a speech in 1893, clutching a
roll of papers in his left hand. In IS-12
Gladstone had the misfortune to lose
the forefinger of his left hand in a
shooting accident; but the sculptor re
stored the finger in the statue. The
question which seems now to be creat
ing an unnecessary and unprofitable
stir in art circles —us resolves itself:
"Is it true art to be unfaithful to the
facts of the case and to represent as
clutching the roll of papers a flnser
which did not exist?"
THE HOLY CITY.
Mrs. Maybrick Was the First to Sing
the Famous Work.
Stephen Adams, the composer, and
Michael Maybrick, the bamone sing
er, are one and the same person. An
interesting fact concerning the first
singing of "The Holy City" Is not gen
erally konwu, viz., that Mrs. Florenca
Maybrick was the one who first sang
the words which have aided so mater
ially in making "Stephen Adams"
famous. It was aboard his yacht that
Machael Maybrick composed "The
Holy City." and It was there that
Florence Mey crick first gave voice to
its melodious strains.
THE HEART OF A OIRL.
4 By Frances Wilson.
They hail not talked Ave minutes be
fore Sanford's pulse was heating tu
multuously. At the end of ten, ho felt
like a man who had been offered the
Kohinoor in the rough and refused it!
For vague, uncomfortable recollections
of other days wero revived when he
met Jlarcia Wentworth again for the
first time in years.
She was superb in her maturity and
made liim see a vision. He was con
scious of a confusion of things Egyp
tian in the background of his mind—
Cleopatra, lotus blooms and the Sphinx
—for in some subtle way she suggested
the richness and splendor of more
poetic days.
"Fifteenyears! "she murmured dream
ily, looking at him with sweetly mock
ing eyes. "And I, who was 17. am 32,"
She puckered her smooth forehead into
a kuot and made a quaint grimace
which filled Sanford with a mad desire
to kiss her then aud there.
"Fifteen years," he retorted tragic
ally, "and I, who was 35, am "
"Forgive me," she laughed with a
deprecating gesture, "and don't say it.
Take the other point of view. Fifteen
years ago" (consolingly) "you were
twice my age. Today you are nowhere
near that," and with a glance half mis
chievous, half consoling, she turned to
greet an acquaintance who was making
his way toward them.
Relegated to the background for the
moment, Sanford occupied himself in
trying to decide just how much of that
old flirtation she probably remembered.
She was but a slip of a girl in those
days, and though the details had. es
caped him he was still uncomfortably
conscious of the adoration that used to
shine out at him from her unconscious
young eyes. He had a vague suspicion
that his conduct had not been above
reproach. He might have forgiven
himself that—for he had been bored!
What be could not forgive was his
crass stupidity in failing to discover in
little Marcia Wentworth the chrysalis
of this splendid creature, all softness
and fire.
It was late in the afternoon and the
Trevor grounds, always famous for
their beauty, were at their best. It
was a scene worthy oi a poet. Indeed,
Mrs. Trevor's garden parties were
poetry made real.
"Watteau, with a touch of Omar,"
remarked Miss Wentworth as they
were left to themselves once more. "I
feel as if we were illustrating the Ru
baiyat."
"is that a delicate way of intimating
that you wish me to bring you some
thing to drink?" teased Sanford. "And
what shall it be?"
"You have missed your cue," she
responded with smiling reproach. "But
then " and the gentle mockery
shone in her eyes once more—"a man
never does remember!"
She gave a sigh, paused for a mo
ment and then continued:
"You have evidently forgotten that
we last saw each other where we meet
today—at a garden party at Mrs. Tre
vor's. That talent for forgetting"—
shaking her head at him smilingly—
"lJow much you men owe to it!"
He had forgotten—and he sparred
for time now as he racked his brain
for some detail of that far-away after
noon—some trifle which he might res
cue from the debris of the past and
make into a pretty speech. The gods
were merciful. Suddenly a slim girlish
figure in wliito rose before him and n
pair of dark, intense eyes gazed into
his. Still ho hesitated for a moment
before he spoke in order to be quite
sure, for tho walls of his memory wero
richly frescoed with girlish figures—
and he hated to make blunders! Then
he spoke triumphantly, but with just
the rich touch of melancholy meaning
in his voice.
"So you think that I've forgotten?
Listen, then! Your gown was soft and
thin and white, and you wore a big
hat covered with yellow roses."
He looked straight at her, but her
eyes did not fall as in tho old days. In
stead, she returned the gaze unflinch
ingly, and curiosity, amusement and
disbelief were mingled in her glance.
"Bravo!" she cried softly; but she
was unconvinced. He saw that, and
was nettled by it Fortunately, he
could not read her thoughts, for she
was wailing to her inner self, "All,
jne! That I should have to acknowl
edge to myself that he's just an ordi
nary flirt after all! How crude I must
have been at 17. And yet "
Her thoughts went swiftly back to
that day in her girlhood, when she had
met him last. The scene was the same
as today—great stretches of velvety
turf, stately trees and groups of peo
ple laughing anil chatting together! On
that afternoon, she remembered the
western sky was a blaze of rose color.
How the gay scene hail mocked her
misery, as Sanford, who was devoting
himself to tue beautiful Miss Carroll,
forgetful of her existence, never once
approached her, though he knew that
it would be their last meeting, as her
family was leaving for Europe on the
following day.
Today she noted with amused ap
preciation the western sky was a bank
of pale gold, and the color seemed
more appropriate to the vanished ideals
and lost illusions of 32. Seventeen—
and rose color! Thirty-two—and pale
gold!
"You were thinking ?" prompted
Sanford. inquiringly Breaking in upon
her reverie.
"I cm thinking," she answered,
bringing her eyes back to him delib
erately—"l am thinking that I will tell
you a story, ltut perhaps," with a
touch of malice, "yju do not lilte
stories?"
"On the contrary, I dote upon them.
Do begin."
Miss Wentworth settled herself moro
comfortably in her chair. Then, look
ing at her companion in a speculative
manner, she began.
"It's a sort of a fairy tale, and it's
about a gin. She was neither very
beautiful nor very interesting, but I
think I may say truthfully that she
was a nice sort of a girl, with a warm
heart, boundless enthusiasm and an im
plicit belief In her fellow-creatures.
I shall have to confess, though, that
she was one of the kind who blush
furiously at the slightest provocation—
you know the type—and that she was
earnest and serious—horribly so —and
a hero-worshipper to her finger tips!"
Sanford nodded his head understand
ing^.
"She was a trifle too much upon the
'Sweet Alice' style," Miss Wentworth
resumed candidly, "and yet with all
her absurdities, I myself was rather
fond of her. Of course you have
guessed before this that there came a
man!" Her voice dropped into a tragic
whisper. Tnen she burst into a merry
laugh, in which her companion joined
somewhat consciously.
"Methinks the air grows icy! I feel
the approach of the villain of the
story!" he announced.
"Not at all!" protested Miss Went
worth in an injured tone. "He was
simply a nice, agreeable man of the
world—such as one meets often enough
to make life a pleasure. He was many
years her senior, and the girl mistook
him for a god."
ShS looked at her companion with in
nocent eyes, but the wicked little
gleam that lay back in them did not
escape him.
"Did the man do anything to give
rise to such a—er —delusion?"
There was an unmistakable challenge
in the inquiry.
"No questions allowed," cam-! the
baflling answer. "You must lot ne toll
my story in my own way. T pro
ceed."
"A girl of this stamp is likely to
idealize a good deal, and you iould
have been—yes, yen would have been
highly edified could you have heard
some of this one's rhapsodies. 'A foead
so noble,' she would say exulting (y to
herself, 'was never seen before,' and
'Were ever eyes so splendidly ■som
mending?" Silly, wasn't it? But it
was the outcome of her conviction that
a god among men had deigned to hold
but his hand to her. And v,'ho\ he
opened his lips!"
Miss Wentwdrlh paused with a >fapt,
listening look upon her face vhich
convulsed her hearer, who las shed
rather foolishly.
"Of course the man read the seel et ot
the girl's heart, and her native wo'ship
amused and flattered him. So lit de
voted a good many of his spare mo
ments to deepening the impression he
had made and the girl used to Dsten
breathlessly.
Their eyes met. Miss Wentworth's
brimming with mirth, while Sanford
felt that he was guilty of a grin. 'JThen
she shook her head at him and ton
tinned with severity:
"As I was about to remark, the girl j
listened to the pearls of wisdom which
dropped from tue man's lips and be
lieved in them as she did in holy
things, and her foolish heart was
thrilled by the joy of the love which
she thought was hers. Certainly the
man, in a high-handed, negligent sort
ot away uid manage to give her some
such impression. How she pitied less
fortunate girls, and how full of plans
she was to make herself worthy of
him!'
A reminiscent smile hovered about
Miss Wentworth's lips, and she looked
off across the lawn as if she had for
gotten her companion.
"Girls are not usually so—so Impres
sionable," he hazarded in a defensive
manner.
mis one was," she responded suc
cinctly.
"Experienced people like you and
me," she went on, continuing her story
once more, "can see that tuere wan
trouble brewing for the girl. She never
expected it, and it came like a thun
derbolt from a clear sky. I won't go
into details. Ho had wearied of his
plaything. Then, there was a lady
with fair hair and the eyes of a saint
—and what was a girl's heart that it
should stand in the way of a man's
fancy?"
"Miss Wentworth's small head rested
against the tips of her fingers, and her
great eyes looked calmly into San
ford's as she asked thi3 question with
the impartial air of one who seeks
abstract truth.
He shook his head.
"The girl was heartbroken —horri-
fied; for in the innocence of her heart
she thought that she had made a ter
rible, immodest mistake, and that ho
never had made love to her—really!
Her face used to burn at the thought,
and she would have given her head
for a chance to convince him that she,
too, had only been amusing herself.
She was wounded in her pride and in
her heart alike—and the nights were
dreadful!" She finished incoherently.
"I see the moral looming up in the
distance," murmured her hearer plaint
ively. "It casts a long shadow and
the tip of it points to me!"
"But it's only a fairy tale, you
know." she said with a shrug, and then
continued:
"The girl's family went abroad, and
she was dragged from London to Paris
and frpm Paris to Rome; but her stub
j born fancy clung io the rum and re
fused to lei go. She looked upon the
sunlit sea. at Cannes, and thought of
htm! and stared at the midnight sun—
and thought 01 him! There was never
a moment when she would not have
Jumped at a chance to return to that
pokey, little western city, U. S. A.,
just because he was there. What did
she care about the glories of the
world?"
"She used to awaken In the morn
ing wondering how she would get
through the day and longing for night.
For, though she was wretched, she was
young and strong, and so she slept and
sometimes—dreamed!"
The last words were spoken softly—
caressingly—and sent a thrill along
Sanford's nerves.
"Did you—that is, did she really
care so much?" he stammered.
"I am compelled to admit that she
paid the penalty—as women do, you
know," came the answer in a cool,
sweet voice.
"We have not reached the end." he
urged in a low tone. "Who can tell —
perhaps a heavier penalty will be ex
acted of him."
Hi 3 voice was eager and there wa3
the old, well-remembered tenderness in
it. It stirred Marcia's senses like a
strain of forgotten music. But she
only smiled back at him and cooed.
"Clever! You score! But to return
to the story.
"The days came and went like an
endless procession of gray phantoms,
until one day a letter arrived mention
ing with other home news, the prob
able marriage of the man and the fair
lady. Then there was a terrific out
burst.
"I remember but one detail—the fig
ure ot the girl lying prone upon the
floor and shaking with sobs. That was
really the last of the girl. I think we
may say that she died that night, and
to the woman who rose in her place
the world has never been quite so fair
a place. The blue of the sky is less
blue, the sunlight is less joyous and
the night wind isn't so full of mystery
and tenderness as when it blew acros3
the face of the girl!"
The last words were scarcely audible
and Miss Wentworth's face was almost
sad. Then she gave an impatient shrug
as if to rid herself of unpleasant mem
ories.
"Well, there came a morning when
she opened her eyes, yawned, thanked
heaven that she was alive, and thought
rapturously of a love of a gown which
was to come home that day. Then she
wondered anxiously if she had gone
off much in looks (she felt as if there
was no bloom lei-!), and she knew by
these tokens that her first love affair
was over—and her girlhood decently
laid away in its grave!"
"That's about all—it really isn't
much of a story. One may lose an
arm and still be fairly happy. And yet
—one preiers the arm?"
There was something delicately
quizzical in the inflection of her word 3
and something delicately regretful as
well.
"You see, I miss the girl," she fin
ished as she rose and they moved off
across the grass together.
"Does It occur to you"—Sanford's
voice was grave and pleading—"that
possibly he misses more than the girl?"
The gentie raillqry in his compan
ion's face as she glanced up at him
was more eloquent than words.
"That man, I take it," he continued
huskily, "has lost his chance —for-
ever?" There was no mistaking his
earnestness now nor the touch of hau
teur in Miss Wen!worth's manner as
she replied carelessly:
"You've been inattentive! Tbe gill
died, you know."
That night she wrote the following
note to somebody else:
"Dear Jack:—Love is not eternal.
So, I think, If you don't mind, I'll fol
low your advice and marry you. I'm
sitting here in sackcl.oth and ashes,
abasing myself before your superior
wisdom. I sat and talked to the Other
Man today and things fell out precisely
as you predicted. A little door away
off in some remote corner of my heart
banged shut, never to be opened again.
And if it were, there'd be nothing be
hind it but a littlo heap of ashes! He' 3
growing bald, Jack. If you love me,
never do that. Come up Saturday and
let me 'splain why it has taken me so
long to find out that though there' 3 a
difference, 32 can love as well as 17.
Forever your MARCIA."
And then she sealed the letter and
pressed her lips softly to the super
scription a half a dozen times —byway
of showing the wisdom of 32! —Tbe
Home Magazine.
Two Grout Now Itrldgen for Venlco.
It is proposed to erect two great
bridges in Venice. One to connect the
island of San Michele, which is the
sole cemetery of Venice, with the city
on the north, and one to connect the
island of the Guidccca with the city on
the south. The former is an easy af
fair, as the water, though a quarter of
a mile broad, is shallow. The other
is a serious and difficult matter, as the
Guidecca canal is reany an arm of the
sea, and the distance at its narrowest
part is over an eighth of a mile. The
Guidecca canal is also the highway for
all the ships of any size, as it is by it
alone they can reach the docks, which
are at the railroad station. But the
ivUKhcca island is becoming of impor
tance as the manufacturing quarter of
the city. One of the largest flour mills
in Europe is there. It belongs to Sig
nor Stucchi, and ho has promised to
subscribe toward tlie expense of the
bridge 400,000 francr* Other manufac
turers on the island will probably also
offer liberal donations should the work
be determined upon, of which there
j is little doubt.
In n Country < lnb'i* Nhwo?
"Why do you call this a coutnry
club?" asked the man from abroad.
| "Well you see," his entertainer ex
i plained, "it's about all the the people
j who belong to it care to have." —Chl-
j cago Record-Herald.
MART FOR BRAINY MEN.
NEW YORK A MECCA OF HOPE FOR
THE UNFORTUNATE.
But Tholr Bright Dim Have Complete
ly IJlm.ppe.trc.l, Tempo.urlly at Leuet,
unit they're Waiting an.i Watching for
Other Smiles fr.uii Home nn.l Fortune.
| Human nature is franker and
lionestet in a low-price hotel in New
York than any place else in the me
tropolis. Even the pretences and sub
terfuges illuminate temperamental dif
ferences.
The well-conducted cheap hotel is
the refuge of those who have fallen,
not those who rise from the gutter.
Those who make their homes in lodg
ing houses are oftener than not men
of considerable education, who have
known better days. They are human
derelicts drifting about the Saragossa
sea of misfortune.
In one hotel in this city there aro
about 1500 persons cared for every
night in the year. The rooms are
scrupulously clean, the beds comfort
able and the rates are no higher than
are charged in second-rate lodging
houses. But the guests are of a de
cidedly higher order. An air of ro
ment pervades the place. In that re
spect the hotel is in every way the
equal of the more pretentious hostel
ries. It Is those qualities that make it
the temporary home of men who havs
not altogether given up hope or expec
tation of better days. As a rule, they
are not communicative, but once in a
while ODe of them will becomo reminis
cent after you have gained hi 3 con
fidence.
If you speak of Africa, Asia, South
America or any other part of the earth
you are almost certain to find in the
group of listeners at least one who has
been exactly in tho place mentioned,
and it's ten chances to one that if you
ask him how he came to be hero you
will get the stereotyped answer that ho
made a failure where he was and came
to New York to retrieve his fallen for
tunes.
In a group of five men in the reading
room one night last week one of them
commented on the Boer war and some
of his listeners applauded his criti
cisms on the conduct of the British
side of the contest. One man remained
silent. lie carries scars made by three
Boer bullets at Spion Kop, and nat
urally concluded his views would not
ytrike a popular chord. Tho hardships
of war were discussed until a man had
opportunity to tell of his experien.is
while acting as a timekeeper while the
work on the Panama canal was in
progress.
Another man told of horrid tortures
endured for 10 days in an open boat,
fftcr the ship in which he had been a
passenger had been burned at sea.
A fourth had been In business in one
cf the South American republics. The
usual revolution came according to the
standing schedule arranged for those
affairs down there. The American was
Recused of sympathizing with tho revo
lutionists. His property was confis
cated and he was cast into prison.
After a delay of several months he
was released upon demands made by
the United States government. But he
never recovered any of his property.
He returned to this country and is now
one of tue vast army of "has beens"
to whom New York is the Mecca of
hope.
The fifth man was one of tho six
survivors of an exploring expedition
whoso iate, if not its achievements,
has become historical. It is still a
mooted question whether the membcts
of the expedition were forced to resort
to cannibalism. The narrator was
silent on that point, but his hearers
Inferred that tho charges that have
been made were not altogether ground
less.
A short distance from tills group sat
another man with a history, but those
around hint knew nothing about it He
ounges around tho hotel day after
Jay and week after week, hardly ever
going out of doors. He is a large,
fine-looking man, always woll groom id
end always reserved, ne talks wi'.h
pne of tho other guests, and so makes
1.0 confidants.
It Is said by a few of those who pro
ume to know what they are talking
ibout that he was, not many years ago,
>ne of the best-known and most dan
prous bank robbers in this country—
tho brains of a most notorious gang
whose members, excepting himself, are
dead or in prison. The story is that his
inactivity is purchased by a syndicate
of banks who prefer to pay him a sub
itantial yearly income tor life to keep
him from collecting a much larger one
limsclf.
It is said he goes to a certain bank
every Monday, receives his "salary"
and returns to rue hotel. 110 is con
tent to accept his annu.cy and rest in
peace, after a most strenuous life.
Another of the guests of this hotel,
which Is no different from other hotels
of cheaper grade, except that it is very
large, Is a man whoso whole make-up
bears the unmistakable stamp of edu
cation and refinement. He secm3 out of
place, nnd he i 3. He has been at tho
hotel several years now, but he could
count up his acquaintances on the
fingers of one hand In appearance he
is tall, straight and exceedingly digni
fied. He is very careful of his personal
appearance, and if his clothes were a
fit you would say he was well
groomed. He appears to feel his posi
tion keenly, keeping well to himself
and making no friends.
Not co long ago he was a professor
in one of the leading colleges, and his
text hooks arc in uso in institutions of
learning throughout America. More
than one familiar book of poetry and
romance bears his name on the title
page.
To use a cut rent phrase, these men,
all of them, are "down and out." The
decadence of most of thcra ran bo
traced to drink, but some, the pro
fessor, for instance, have been over
whelmed for no apparent reason, and
they find it hard even now to realize
that they no longer are a part of the
prosperous side of the human family.
Most of them bear their misfortunes
with considerable cheerfulness, and
some are really happy in their misery.
That is somewhat paradoxical, for they
are Americans, and that meaus that
they feel quite sure they will be "on
top" again before long and are waiting
with patience and resignation for that
time when they will once more be in
the uppor strata of society. They are
used to ups and downs.
More than one of these lodgers at the
cheap hotel has made and lost several
fortunes. Others are members of
wealthy families that have cast them
off for reasons that were, to them, suf- -
ficient to Justify such a course. There
are many college graduates.
Once in a while one of them really
docs get up in the world, but the vast
majority pass out of mind and mem
ory, never to be heard from again.
They are not missed, for their places
aro filled almost before they have dis-
appeared.—New York News.
POVERTY OF THE TROPICS.
BTerytliltifi: In the Hut Countries is Hnrm
ful to Man.
That the tropics are really poor ill
natural resources instead of being rich
is the argument of Dr. Semeleder, of
Cordoba, Mexico. His arguments are
especially interesting jimt now, when
so much attention is being attracted
to the hot regions of the world as
places for exploitation. The doctor,
in a letter to the Medical Record,
says:
"All men dream of the marvelous
riches of the tropics, of the birds with
rainbow plumage, of the extravagant
flowers, of the elegant tree-ferns, of
the banana ami palms, with waving
leaves, and of the cocoa-palm, which
furnishes man with everything neces
sary for life. Indeed we pity him who
has never seen a tropical landscape,
as we pity him who has never seen the
sea. Then we think of the enormous
treasures the English, Spanish and
Dutch have harvested from their tropi
cal colonies, and, naturally, we think
that the tropics are the richest re
gions of the world. All this may be
true, yet, nevertheless, in another
sense, instead of being rich, the trop
ics are fatally poor. Unable to se
cure the neccessarics of life, the peo
ple of tropical countries are like the
man in whose hand everything turns
to gold, yet who perishes of hunger
and thirst.
"Of all the brcad3tuffs necessary
for men the tropics furnish only corn
and rice, and these only to a limited
extent. They have no wheat, rye, or
potatoes. The banana may he, as
Humboldt says, 133 times more pro
ductive than wheat, and 41 times more
so than potatoes, yet it cannot re
place either as food. Nor can white
men live for any length of time on
rice and corn alone, nor on bananas
and palm-nut 3. Native tropical foods
can only hold body and soul together,
as t.hey furnish but little vigor, energy,
and power. No machine can do good
work with poor fuel. A man who has
neither bread nor meat cannot get
life and strength and push from tea,
coffee, sugar, vanilla, and all the pre
cious spices. Tropical products are
merely commercial luxuries and if the
inhabitants of cold climes did not buy
them the people of the tropics would
lack the necessaries ai d comforts of
life and would yet choke with their
own riches.
"If we wish to know tho effects of
the poor diet of the tropics combined
with tho effects of tho heat, wo have
only to look at the inhabitants of these
countries. As a general rule they are
thin, poorly built, and unfit for intel
lectual or physical labor. Occasional
exceptions will only confirm the rule.
"Even tho foods which are produced
are Insufficient In amount, so that the
least interference with the annual
crops results in famines, as is the case
in India today. Indeed, India has al
wnys been tho land of fabulous rtche3
of a few and of famines of the mil
lions. Until recently in the cold coun
tries there were none of fabulous
wealth and but few famines.
"Everything in hot countries is
harmful to man; the ground, the wa
ter, and the air, swarming with mias
ma and vermin, and with torment and
danger. Life is as much a torment as
a pleasure, for whatever makes life
worth living is lacking. Thay depend
for indispensable necessaries upon tho
temperate zones, to which they fur
nish only the luxuries."
Convict's Silvio., to n Ynunt- OIT-tidor. j
Thomas Brady, wanted on three
charges in Louisville, Ky., going by
the name of Flannery, where he broke
jail and escaped to Detroit, Mich., since
which time he has broken into no less
ti.an 12 houses, was given four years
Before sentencing him. Judge Murphy
asked him to give some advice to a
boy who wa3 in a felon's seat for the
first time. Brady said:
"All I can tell him is that since I
was 19 I have had no pleasure or peace
lor comfort. I can te.i him that the
game is not worth it. I can tell him
that it's always worry and fear and
caution, and that it isn't worth the
price. That is all I can tell him, and I
auviso the boy to keep out of a life
such as mine has been for the last
five years." The judge told him ho
took one year off his sentence be-tuse
he came of a good family and had a
good wife. —Cincinnati Enquirer.
Japan sent 03 ships through the |
Suez canal last year, or more than
Spain (24) or Denmark (27), and near
ly as many as Italy (82).