Democratic Press, Volume 1, Number 22, Decatur, Adams County, 14 March 1895 — Page 3

THE MARSDEN TWINS. A Story Written for This Paper by Edward S. Van Zile. rCOPTBIOHTj

CHAPTER I.—TWO WOMEN. During the season of 188— there entered the inner circle of metropolitan society two young women who became famous at once for their physical and mental fascinations. They were twins, the daughters of a deceased merchant who had made millions in trade and had married into one of New York's most aristocratic families. Their mother had died at the time of their birth, and the girls had been sent to France to be educated. They did not return to this country until a year after their father's death, but their beauty, wealth and maternal ancestry gave them an immediate entree to society, and they became at a bound the “The Two Orphas,” as they were called by irreverent club men, were tall, dark, queenly women more French than American in manner. It was hard to tell which was the handsomer. Vera Marsden had her admirers, who warmly opposed the assertion of another clique that Marion possessed the most beauty. As those who knew them well sometimes mistook Marion for Vera and Vera for Marion there was a good deal of bathos about this discussion. In fact it became necessary for the Marsdens to wear a distinguishing mark when they appeared in public; so Vera adopted a pearl necklace to identify herself, while Marlon bared her white throt, simplex munditiis, to the admiring eyes of the midnight world. The entrance of these women at a ball or reception always created a sensation. Having lived long in Paris, they understood the art of dress in all its highest manifestations. Their dark hair drawn back from their foreheads was arranged in classic coils. Their eyes, cyanean tn hue, suggested a strain of Irish blood in their veins. Black hair and blue eyes form a combination either Celtic or Spanish in its origin. In this case, the chromatie eccentricity was due to the fact that the Marsdens’ mother had been born in Dublin. It was natural, of course, that the jeunesse doree should fall down and worship these representatives of entropy and elegance Suitors gathered about them In throngs, and german favors were piled before them as offerings were laid at the feet of Grecian goddesses. The newspapers printed their photographs, and even the London weeklies commented upon the social success of the Marsden twins. Being rich as well as handsome. certain foreigners of title paid court to them, and at one time the rumor went forth that Vera had accepted an English peer and that Marion was engaged to a German Count. The Marsdens only smiled, and Ise eame more vivacious than before. “But yon do not deny my accusation,” remarked a pale, tired-lookbtg man one evening, as he bent toward Vera. They were seated in a quiet nook in a spacious hallway. The music of a waltz echoed from the conservatory, where the orchestra was stationed, and through the open doors of the drawing-room they could see the dancers as they passed and repassed in rhythmic gratae. “Why do you give It so ha„-sh a name?" asked Vera.smiling and turning her eyes toward her questioner; “surely it is no crime to marry an Enlishman." The patrician face of the young man flushed deeply. “You are still evasive. O, Vera. I have the right to an answer—for I love you. I love you madly. Tell nie, are you engaged?’’ She rose and calmly took his arm. “Let us dance,” she said. “Three men have said the same tiling to me to-night It grows monotonous. n’eet ce pas?’ Marion Marsden had just flsdshed a waltz with a tall, disting.ie mail, about 35 years of age. As they wandered toward the conservatory, he was saying: “Really, Miss Marsden, you and your sister have inaugurated a revolution. Unintentionally you have become most pronounced iconoclasts." • What do y<‘ti mean, Mr, Vinton? You alarm me. Actually our only ambition is to have a good time, and here in the most solemn way you tell me we are reformers—horrid things!” There was a pout on her finely cut mouth as she looked up at her vis-a-vis. Mr. Vinton smiled coldly apd led her to a seat in the conservatory. He stood looking down at her a moment, then seated himself beside Ler. “What I intended to say is this. Last season none of the men had the slightest inclination for matrimony. Bachelorhood seems to be sufficiently attractive, and the ‘joys of domestic life’ were about as magnetic as a surf bath in winter. Now, however, a great matrimonial revival is in progress. New converts are made every night. Why, I hfive known some of my friends disappointed in their highest hopes, to marry girls they did not care for, jnst because their thoughts have been running recently on wedded life.” “But why do you hold Vera and ttyself responsible for this?” asked if avion, eoquettishly. '< argue from my own experience,” he answered solemnly, trying to take her hand, and being repulsed. Lust year J was thoroughly contented with

life. I had a strong prejudice against marriage, and to paraphrase the poet, when I said 1 would die a bachelor. I did not think I would live to see the day when I wished to wed. Now. however, all is changed. I want to marry. I see only one path to happiness, and that leads to the altar. Marion, I love you, will you be my wife?” Marion laughed outright. “You are tres drole, Monsieur Vinton. Come. I want to find Vera.” Two hours later Vera and Marion, attired en neglige, were gossipping in their boudoir about the events of the evening. In the abandon of seclusion they were even more attracti ive than when “on parade.” Vera reclined on a divan, one arm. from which the folds of her peignoir had parted, stretched above her head, while outlined against the rich color of the couch appeared the voluptuous lines of her symmetrical form. Marion was seated in an easy chair, one foot resting on a stool and the other nervously tapping the floor. Iler dark, luxuriant hair fell loosely alsiut her shoulders, and made a fine contrast for the brilliant whiteness of her face and neck. Shall I shock lay ; readers if I confess that my heroines were smoking cigarettes? Devotion to i the realistic school compels me to run that risk. Truth is mighty and must presail, even when a novelist , stands behind a boudoir portiere. And then there is no great sin in puffing a cigarette if the conscience of tlie fair smoker does not rebel. The . Marsden girls, having lived long in Eu- ! rope, had acquired certain habits which ' i would have annoyed their mother and driven their father into a fit of rage. • Poor orphans, they had nothing but ■ their own inclinations to obey. "Really, it grows tiresome.” remarked Marion, gazing mournfully at the i I rising smoke. “Seven men proposed ■ to me to-night. I’ll have nervous prostration yet, unless I accept some- ■ body.” Veta smiled, and looked at her sister sympathetically. “ Don't do anything rash. May. I had almost as severe a strain as you did this evening. 1 refused six. Mr. Vinton was rather clever in his method. 1 had some trouble to make him understand me.” Marion started, blushed slightly. ; and said: “Yes; he is importunate. But I re- , fused to take him au serieux." "What do you mean? Did he propose to you. too?” I “Yes.” The sisters gazed at each other solI emnly for a moment, then burst into a ! laugh. “It’s really too bad," exclaimed Vera ’ at length, "that a man of the world should be so absurd. I can't under; stand it." “Who were your other victims. J Ye?” "Well, there were Weldon. Count ' Kovinsky. Van Schaick, Harry Ashton and Vane. The Count was delicious. He confessed in French, and 1 did a very pretty bit of acting. I ‘ told him he should take to private theatricals. He has an awfully hot temper, and his black eyes snapped lire when I said this. Mon Dieu. lam sick 1 of the whole thing.” “So am I, Ve. But what can we do? ’ You know as well as I do that these men want our money. They think we , are much richer than we are. There’s Vinton, for instance. It made no dis ference to him which of us accepted him. The financial stakes were equal This is a queer city, isn’t it? Mammon the god of gold, and Dagon, the god of the Philistines, are the only deities , worshipped. Excuse me. dear. I didn’t ( mean to recall to your mind that I . know anything about mythology. Mythology i« not considered ‘good form' t over here. But what shall we do with these Marsden monomaniacs?” Vera lighted a fresh cigarette, ar- ■ ranged a pillow beneath her head, and seemed to ponder the problem carefulI ly. After a lime she said: "How would it do. May, to lose our money? There is no doubt that our reputed wealth subjects us to great an- ; noyance from these fortune hunters. If the rumor went out that we had lost I everything in an unlucky speculation I we could then discover who are our ■ true friends.” “But," objected Marion, who loved luxury, “we would have to give up so many things to make the report seem • reasonable. Personally I don't think . I should like poverty, even if it were not real or permanent.” She loked around the elegantly furnished chamber affectionately. In the ■ i subdued light of the shaded lamps the I room appealed to the imagination. It as an appropriate setting for youth and beauty. The heavy hangings, the : costly rugs, the paintings by modern French masters, the lazy-looking divans and chairs, all seemed to whisper to Marion, begging her to stay where they could look upon her at their pleasure. There is a spirit in every house and in every room that speaks to those that have ears to hear. "You go too far. May,” r<> urned her sister, earnestly. "The details of the scheme may be so arranged that we will not be obliged to change our way of Ife. We need only let it be inferred that we have lost the bulk of our fortune. and that aunty has bought this house and allowed us an income. Comprenex?”

“How clever you are, Ve. Yes, you are right Perhaps we won't find it pleasant sailing under false colors. But. anything for a quiet life, as the Frenchman said when his head fell into the guillotine basket.” “You are growing very vulgar. Marion. I fear New York life is not good for us.” "Thank yon for that word ‘us.’ cherie. I thought you were going to scold me.” Marion arose and seated herself on the divan, throwing an arm about her sister's neck. "Have you not something to tell me, Ve?” she asked affectionately. "What makes you think I have? What could I have to tell you that you do not know already?" “Nothing, for I have discovered your secret. You are in love.” “Yes? And so are you. May.” Marion blushed as she kissed the face so like her own. "How do you know that I am?” “I might ask the same question. There is only one answer to both. We are twins.” Marion laughed. There was a scientific truth in her sister's remark which seemed to Jar ludicrously with the romantic mood they were in. "You love Jack Dalton. Ve.” “You love Ned Dalton, May.” Then they kissed each other again and whispered soft confessions till the clock struck four. CHAPTER IL-TWO MEN. “John G. Dalton and Edward C. Dalton, Attorneys and Counsellors at law," was the legend on a handsomely gilded plate on the door of a small office in one of the large newspaper buildings near City Hall Park. The sign was so situated that now and then a sunbeam would fall upon it through the hall wiudow, and the gold letters would glitter and sparkle as though trying to allure clients by their very brilliancy. It was a faithful, hard-working sign, for even at night it would sometimes catch a moonbeam, and at once the gold letters would begin to dance again in the forlorn hope of attracting some mid night searcher after the consolations of legal advice. Poor, loyal, industrious sign. Its wanton smiles never wooed the coy client to the Daltons' door, and as time went on the once cheerful and energetic plate seemed to lose hope, for it grew dingy, grum and lifeless, and even the most joyous sunbeam could not make the gilded letters sparkle as of old. The same deterioration had taken place on the other side of the door. The books on the shelf were not the self-confident tomes they had been two years back. Dust had settled upon them, and on the top row in a certain corner a lawless spider had spun a web about a particular volume of the Revised Statutes. Perhaps in so doing he typified a certain tendency of the legal profession. The spider wished to catch flies by faking undue liberties with the law.

The empty tin boxes, once fresh and inviting, were, like the books, dustcovered and depressed. The carpet, the chairs, the desk all showed signs of a fall in life. The office in all its belongings seemed to jeer in a sullen way at the legend on the other side of the door. When the door was thrown open so that the disappointed gold letters could be seen from various parts of the room, small clouds of dust would arise from the hooks and tin boxes as thrown up therefrom by subdued and sarcastic merriment. Jack Daltou and his brother Ned may have realized all this, but if they did they never gave expression to gloomy thoughts. They were much more hceerful iu fact and In appearance than their surroundings. They had never lost faith in the ultimate triumph of the gilded legend. They didnot notice the dust, the spider, nor the gradual loss of luster on ths part of the gold letters. Every morning they opened their office in a hopefpl way. Every evening they closed it as though they were well satisfied with the day’s business. Jack Dalton sat alone in the office one afternoon, writing in that ener getic way that shows enjoyment of the work in hand. He was a tall, somewhat ungainly young man with bushy, light hair, earnest gray eyes, and a nose and mouth that were far from symmetrical. Heliad a strong face, but no one would have called him handsome.* When he smiled, however. his white, well-shaped teeth and a peculiar arrangement of dimples in his countenance combined to add a momentary beautyto a face lessat. tractive in repose. As he smiled often he had obtained the reputatlonof be ing a very “good-looking” man. A hurried step tn the hallway caused him to start nervously. Listening in tently for a moment, he thrust the pa pers before him into a drawer in the desk, turned the key in the lock, and. seizing a la iv book, began tv read eagerly. Whether the oneomer were a client or his brother the same precautions were necessary. For, be it known. Jack Dalton was writing a play, and he feared his brother's ridicule. He kept his precious manuscript locked iu the desk and worked on it at odd moments when Ne d was absent. Had he known that in another drawer in the same desk lay the unfinished sheets of a novel upon which his hemigh thavebeenless zfiflffffi cmfwino brother had been at work for a year, he might have been less modest about his ambitions as a playwright. Perhaps the books and tin boxes knew hoth secrets and had the right to laugh at the legend. “Attorneys and Counselors at Law.” “Hello, Jack. Anything new?" cried the younger brother as he entered the office. He resembled Jack in a general way, but he was not quite as tall, somewhatmore graceful, and much darker in coloring. Theformula he had employed was

tlme hanoredin the office. If either of the brothers stepped out for five minutes h'» always asked if there was ‘anything new” upon his return. The fact that there never had been anything new did not alter the general appropplateness of the question. There might be something new at any time. There was a vast amount of litigation going on in the courts. The services of the Daltons might be required at any moment. And, then, it sounded well to ask a question of this kind two or three times a day. It proved to thosemelancholy tin boxes that the Daltons were still hopeful, whatever might be the general impression of the office. “No, Ned. Everything quiet Anything stirring outside?’ ,'Of cours there eis,” returned Ned' rather crossly, as he lighted a cigar. "There is always something stirring outside, but never in here—excepting the dut.” Jack looked at hl brother in surpr prise. He had never heard him speak so gloomily before. “What's the matter with you. Ned? You mustn't be downhearted, old man.” "How can I help it. Jack? I’ve kept up like a man for three years. I'm tired of listening to the footsteps in the hall. I really think that if a client should euter the office I should faint from surprise. Here we are, college graduates, well read in the law. young, ambitious, thoroughly equipped in our profession, and we haven't had a case in court since we started. It’s a shame. We might better buy a fewbananas and oranges and join our Italian friends outside there.” The speaker knocked the ashes from his cigar spitefully and gazed at the ceiling. His brother smiled grimly, sat silent for a time and then said: "What of it, old man? We have enough to live on, in any event, and we’re sure to pick up a practice in time. All things rome to him who waits—even clients." Ned made no answer. It was evident that he had something on his mind that had not been affected by his brother’s optimistic remarks. He was less phlegmetic than Jack and more outspoken. Knowing this, the elder brother waited patiently u:atil the discontented young man should feel inclined to continue the conversation. After awhile the smoker rnsked abruptly: “When did you see the Marsdens, Jack?” “Night before last.”

‘Don't you want to call on them this afternoon? Business is not pressing.” The last sentence was uttered bitterly. “Just as you please, Ned. But I think if we were wise «e would keep away from them.” ‘Why?’ "You know right well.” ‘You mean that we are poor and they are rich. Well, what of it? We are better off than some of the men who pay them attention. Besides—a cat may look at a queen. I love Marion Marsden. Jack." Here the speaker arose and walked about excitedly. “I wish to God I didn't, but 1 can't help it. I'd cut my tongue out before I would tell her of my love, but I can't keep away from her. It's hard, old man, isn't It?” Jack seized his brother's hand and their eyes met. "I understand you. Jack," said the younger man. “You love Vera, and you want to avoid temptation. But come with me, just this once. We’ll call on them this afternoon for the last time. Then we'll devote our days and nights to—to—our clients.” He smiled grimly as he reseated himself. (To be continued.) Idiots May Be Improved and Cured. Idiots have been improved, educated, and even cured; not one in a thousand has been entirely refractory to treatment; not one in a hundred who has not been ma le m ire happy and healthy; more than 30 per cent, have been taught to conform to social and moral law, and rendered capable of order, of good feeling, and of working like the third of a man; more than 40 per eent. have become capable of the ordinary transactions of life, under friendly control. and of understanding moral and social abstractions.of workinglike twothirds of a man. and 25 to 30 per cent come nearer and nearer the standard of manhood, till some of them will defy the scrutiny of good judges when compared with ordinary young men and women. That this is no mere rhetorical flourish is proved by the statistics of one of the largest training institutions for imbeciles.—The Hospital. A Queer Zulu Custom. One part of the Zulu marriage ceremony is very peculiar. Thu groom comes forward and sits on the ground. His bride then danees around him. laughing hr and ridiculing him, kick ing d*st in his face, disarranging his elegant head dress, acil otherwise taking liberties with him. intending to show he was not an yet her master. The groom sits silent, nene j-eplylng. and as she ceases, probably for sheer want of breath, leaves and returns almost immediately, leading an ox, called “the ox of the girl." This is solemnly killed, and constitutes the binding portion of the ceremony. ■ An Effective Method, To repress drunkenness tae Governor of St. Petersburg has Just ordered that the names and addresses of all persons found intoxicated in the streets, regardless of rank or sex. shall be posted iu certain public places in the city and also printed In the Official Gazette. Fifty years ago they were compelled to sweep the streets for a number of hours, under the eye of the police. Parisian Fad. Mourners at Parisian fuiserals are furnished "ith little wads qf cotton with which to wipe away their tears. The tears are then and are supposed to contain restorative quill i, ties in case at fainting.

MADE ONE GOOD LAW. LATE CONGRESS SURPASSED THE AVERAGE. It Made a Distinctive Departure from the Protective Policy Which Had Prevailed for Thirty Years—Sugar Bounties and Cheapness. Not VV it hoot Honor. One good law of prime importance is as much as any ordinary Congress sueceds in placing to its credit. The first two or three Congresses, and perhar as many more during the epoch of the civil war, undoubtedly accomplished more under the urgency and spur of the times when they were sitting. but most Congresses have done less. The Congress which has Just passed from the stage has surpassed the average. It lias enacted at least one law of prime importance—the new tariff law. While it did not make so much progress in the direction of free trade ip framing this law as had been expected by most people, yet it did make decided progress. It made a distinct departure from the protective policy which had prevailed for thirty-three years. During all tiiose years there had been almost, uninterrupted progress from protection to higher and higher protection until the climax was reached in the McKinley act of 1890. The late Congress not only called a halt upon this movement, but it began a march backward toward commercial and industrial liberty, and it made a good advance for a first one. Il put the country in motion toward freedom and the impulse which it gave will not be lost. That impulse may not seem to be operative for the time being, but visible results will be seen again as soon as the country begins to perceive the beneficial effects of the greater measure of freedom it now enjoys. Then the march will be resumed, not to cease until this is at least as free a country commercially as it was during the Democratic days from 1857 to 1861. If the late Congress has done no other great thing it is at least entitled to credit for refusing to do many bad and doubtful things. Among the bad are the numerous grabs which at one time threatened to swell the appropriations for the next fiscal year to a total unequaled in the history of the country. Every grab of any great magnitude, with the exception of the sugar bounty, was defeated during the closing hours of the session, and to the Democratic house belongs the credit. Among the doubtful measures which have fallen, for the time being at least, are the pooling bill, the Nicaragua Canal bill, the Hawaiian cable appropriation and a number of more or loss questionable measures of currency reform. These can wait. For some things, such as voting the sugar bounty, refusing needed relief to the treasury and neglecting to pass tile free ships bill, the late Congress is uot to be praised. But on the whole it has done more good and less harm than any other Congress for very many years. Even those who now find nothing good to say of it will give it credit for its great work of setting in motion the car of practical tariff reform before many years have passed away.

Clogs on industry. Government interference witli trade and industry is always attended with unsatisfactory results. Commerce has natural laws. When these are artificially impeded the outcome is necessarily vicious. A striking example of the truth of this statement is the situation of the beet-sugar industry in Germany. The German imperial government thought itself wise when it gave an export bounty on sugar made from beets. Government never stopped to think that when it gave a bounty out of the national treasury for such a purpose it took money that did not come from the German exchequer, but from the pockets of all the people, whether they were interested in beet raising or not. It followed that after a few years of fostering this industry agriculturists largely abandoned all other production and gave their fields over to beet raising. For a time the agriculturists thought that government was a beneficence and that the taxing of everybody for the support of themselves, though it might be an act of injustice to others, was so highly profitable to them that they must regard it as wise and expedient. But the crisis comes. Stimulated beyond need, the stimulant which ought never be applied resulted in overproduction. and consequently diminished price. A nation so large a sugar consumer as the United States was practically lost to the German market because of the discriminating duty against nations which pay a bounty- for export of sugar. The United States was in the business of interfering with trade and commerce as well as Germany itself. The advantage in this market lies, therefore, with the nonbounty paying country producing sugar. Down goes the price of sugar in Germany until the industry is in the worst possible condition. If it were the manufacturer alone it would be probably only loss of accumulated capital. but the misfortune extends necessarily to tlie entire field of farmers who are beet raisers. Again. France lays embargo on American meat products. Investigation being made it appears that heavy duties on French wines brought to this country suggested to French statesmen the wisdom of retaliation. Our farmers suffer. A Chicago packer declares that the French decree means the loss of $18,000.1 hi trade a year to the people of this country. We have taxed French wines to protect our own sparse vineyards. They bar out our meats to protect their own people, in fact neither

nation profits. Both lose heavily. Agriculture, trade, commerce, all should be left to their natural development. When man through government impedes lie injures, sometimes destroys. ' —Chicago Times. The Bnrdensonieness of Protection. A big, strong and physically sound man can defy the laws of health with apparent impunity much longer than cun a naturally puny and dyspeptic man. The sound man may drink whisky. smoke and chew tobacco, live on improper food, go without sufficient clothing, expose himself in all kinds of weather, ami laugh at rules of hygiene for many years. The penalties of violated natural laws, however, must be paid in the case of tile strong man as in that of the weak man. No man can escape the effects of violated natural laws, likewise no nation can escape the evil effects of living under laws at variance with natural laws of progress. Exchange of products between different localities and different countries is the main spring of civilization ami progress. All legislation is an obstacle to progress ami prosperity. All tariff duties, whether on imports or exports, are barriers to trade and an injury not only to the country levying them. but. in some degree, to all the rest of the world. Small countries like Italy. Belgium, Germany. France and England, or new and thinly populated countries UkeAustralia and Canada, suffer roost by tariff duties, because they are small or weak. England was in a desperate condition when it abolished protection in 1846. The Australian colonies got along very well until they adopted protection a few years ago. They have since passed through a frightful panic and are now returning to free trade. Canada is suffering greatly because it is trying to carry its load of “protection.” The United States being naturally the strongest and most independent of nations, for thirty years bore up under protective duties so high that they would soon have swamped a weaker nation. MeKinleyism, however, was too much even for this mighty nation. After three years of 100 per cent, duties, the recuperative powers of this country were paralyzed by ever pro duction.

Bounties and Cheapness, When it was asserted in the Senate that in view of the bounties paid in other countries sugar production in the United States cannot last five years longer, tlie exaggeration gave opportunity for facing squarely an issue that must be met as a result of the bounty system. If other countries pay bounties on sugar, wheat, cotton and similar articles, we must either begin a genetai system of production under government supervision, with expenses guaranteed at the cost of the taxpayers, or we must take tlie bounty products of other countries as cheap as we can get them. When Germany and its imitators began competing under the sugar-bounty system, sugar was a luxury in England. Instead of imitating them in the pay ment of bounties. England simply kept its markets open for German and Russian bounty sugars until sugar was almost literally as "cheap as dirt" in England. Under governmental compulsion the taxpayers of Germany and Russia were paying for the sugar used in England, and their bounties were really presents to the English consumer. Where the bounty system succeeds it lias this necessary effect, and in having this effect it reacts on itself, fails of its object and necessarily brings its own condemnation and abandonment. This must be tlie result in every boun-ty-paying country iu Europe. While the bounties continue, classes of Americans who attempt to compete with them may be seriously inconvenienced, but we must uot part with common sense on that account. And it is common sense to stop producing anything that we cannot sell for more than the cost of production, just, as it is common sense to buy whatever we need when we can buy it cheaper than we can make it at our own expense.—New York World. Protectionist Iconic. The Chicago Tribune suggests that the President "strike back” at. the European governments which are putting au embargo upon American products by availing himself of the retaliation clause in the tariff of 1890. It would have him get even with Germany for having closed its ports to our cattle by closing in return our ports to German hosiery, dress goods or sugar. France might be disciplined by shutting out its silks and wines, and measures of like character might be taken against the other European nations now hesitating upon the point of declaring commercial war against the United States. In short. Europe having struck a serious blow at the prosperity of our producers, we are asked by the protectionist organ to make matters symmetrical by attacking the interests of our consumers. This is protectionist logic applied to a situation growing out of a typical protection measure, namely, the differential tax for the use and behoof of the sugar trust. The way to stop the war of tariffs is uot to increase its bitterness. but to remove the cause. Cotton Prices. Senator Hoar attributes the fail in the price of cotton to the tariff act of 1894. He knows, of course, that therewas no tariff on cotton to remove, aud lie must be aware also that shrinkage of demand from the mills has not been more pronounced at home than abroad. And finally, does the Senator recall the fact that cotton suffered a greater decline in price from tlie year 1890 to anil including tlie year 1892 when the McKinley act was in full force aud the Republican party in power—than it haa suffered since?—Springfield Republl can.