Democratic Sentinel, Volume 20, Number 33, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 21 August 1896 — Page 4

CHAPTER XV. Rnfus Crouch, clad in a coarse white slop suit, like a dock laborer or navvy, and puffing forth smoke from the short and blackened pipe that was his almost Inseparable companion, came striding up the long and narrow valley that led from the sea coast to that hollow in which his unenviable dwelling stood. He walked more swiftly, and more strongly, too, than could have been conjectured of a man of his build. He walked up to a corner of the hut where sundry tools were stacked, selected a crowbar, small, sharp-pointed, and made of as good steel as ever Sheffield sent forth, and, armed with this instrument, and carrying a great petroleum lamp, he approached tht now fireless hearth, on which there lay. cold and dead, the ashes of his fire of peat and wood. Using the strong steel crowbar with considerable skill, Rufus Crouch managed to lift the heavy hearthstone and to away it to one side, giving to view beneath a cavity artfully contrived to serve as a pjace of deposit for articles too precions to be left in some cupboard or other unprotected receptacle in a house so often tenaatless. The hole held only two objects; the one a common jar of baked clay, with a lid, such as in Holland is used for the storage of tobacco, the other a large tin bos, fastened by a padlock. Rufus lifted the lid of the Dutch tobacco jar, and threw a casual glance at the money—gold, silver and copper coins mixed together—that lay below. Then he replaced the cover, and unlocking the padlock with a key which, like that other which he'first employed, was attached to his silver watch chain, he drew forth a number of papers and parchments. From these he separated, a particular deed, and began, for perhapsjthe hundredth time, with grerrfv eyes to study its contents. “Not 'j doubt about it,” he muttered—“all th./f sum of seventy thousand pounds, Con-xfidatod Three--per Gents, with all unclaimed ba'k dividends therefrom ac.cruing, belongs us eerta iety to Violet, only daughter——. flere the l uiely studept.’s , interested commentary on the legal document in his dutch was int( rrupted by a whining cry from the dogs without, a tap at the door, the, lifting of .the latch, and'it was Obadmh Jedson’s towering.figure.that now darkened the uoorway v ■“Hero, Rufus, man!” said the deep, resonant voice of the chptain’ of the jet hunters; ‘‘you must be deuf-ttr busy. I knpeked before, and I gave- the word before I came in However, all’s well; only time is short.” . "What’s up, captain?”..confusedly demanded the occupant, 9f the hut, as he huddled together the law papers thn( lny before him on the untidy table, and looked

askance at newcomer. “I was reading. —a thing I don’t often do,” he continued, with a. constral ued la ugh; ‘poring .over a lot of ojd letters. What stirring, Captain JedsonV'’ , “We ought to be.” answered, pjd Obadlah, 'frowiiingTy! “In digging the foundations sot tne new pier at Daueborough Jet tracts ■hart Web found—very' good, ones, since nine pounds’ weight were picked up by mere-children in -a -couple of hours. 1 have , seen the stuff* mid the place, and.l have been .round to siunmon. the tyds apd.wowep to. muster,At.Paneborough Old Pier at five tomorrow,piorn. In your turn, Rufus, mate, I have come • to- you. I look to you as my lieutenant, in Don’s place.”* . > ~ “Don’s turned gentleman. ain't* he?” sneeringly askro the .confederate. j>f Sir Richard Mortmajy. “A pleasanter trade for him than iet seeking, I guess, and a -safer.” " " ' “Don dragged’you; body and hones, put —'of what would pise have been your ’grave in the Soldiers' Slough, comrade RufdS," -retorted old Obediah. with jracb dignified sternness of rebuke that the ruffian quaib. . before the. severe regard,of the .gaunt Of jet hunter?, .’land. ga.for.taking' a new trade, it U held by all of us along' this coast that my foster-soo is a gentleman b«ne But-J did 1 nofe* <fomt her*? to talk of pur Don., who will-be bock With us one day, but of the, work of the morroW,' mate. I hare ethers to call, who yye far away. Can f count on you,'* Crouch, to make one?” • • i ( “Vos.” sullenly replied Rufus; “yes, I’ll be there—neve- fear me;, Pllihe there.” And so they parted. ‘ -

CHAPTER XVL ~*A rifling, part j-hafl eat,-onti,from the great house enough. The day was fine. Up the tbad leadiii’g toward the high 19095 s Jh“ twnpmg spuadron went,' the merry dotes of blithe talk and the silvery -soitnd Of girlish laughter floating on the summer wind. There were six young ladies, tw6 manned ‘and - thfff’ unmarried* and with them a masculine escort of sufficient strength.. without-inc Ming the grooms, who brought up the rear: Of course, Sir Richard Mortmain' was often beside Violet, but not exclusively gq, for Mrs. Scoresby was exacting, and at times noisily' satirical, and he did’not ‘«i ' yet choose to exhihit jn the character of a declared loygr. j,,,/, Presently, without warning,. & njist swopped down- irons, thg lofty moors, rollIng, in its somber raajesfj, like & turnbpig sea Qvpi thfe purple heather, the gold-blossomed gorsa, and the-paler yellow of the brootmbanks, hiding the bare rocks, the peat mosses, the-scattered farm booses, the fields, every sign and landmark,! as il a oudden deluge had blotted them from the map 6f the county. li are wc to.dp now?*' demanded Mrs. Seoreeby, kradiy. —' ; - * “Oh, rattle along! ft’a all right We •hall manage it ettpltalfy, in spite of the fog,” cheerily Responded Charley Fitzgerald. 'l;* • n i* "1 i , So they rode on, but, as they rounded the nett angle of the ropd it just so happened that a gypsy. tent Was pitched there, a cart standing, a bprse tethered, a •warm of awg-thy urchins buzzing about, and worst of all, a bright, cracking fire burping. Violet. Mowbray's mettlesome gray could not bear the sight, but snort? j ihg, sndimad with fear, it swerved, reared, and taking the tyt-between its teeth, dadbed? Off along the' toad, and- vanished In* the mist -The thing happened so quickly that every One wag taken by survOitfr'hPf! ' I'd&’.hdpfe she can keep her scat nil hFs had’ Mtengh of It,' the brute!” exclaimed kind little Chart*? Fitzgerald of the Hussars, while Lord David Todhnnter, who was far in the tear, bawled ort inquiries as to what had occurred. Sir Richard, whose wits were quicker, had alto been is the roar. He Whmd forward now.

A LOYAL LOVE

BY J. BERWICK HARWOOD.

“What’s this?"’ ho cried. “She will be killed.” On they rode, helter-skelter, into the blinding mist, clattering along the hard road, until at last Sir Harker, who knew the country better than the rest, bawled out: "Stop, stop, Mortmain—Lady Padget! we’ve passed the cross-roads, and I’m sure we’re going wrong. I thought I heard a horse faintly to the left.” They all reined up. When silence was re-established, the hoof-strokes of a horse going at a furious gallop could be distinctly heard to the left “That’s it. I thought so. The brute has wheeled into the Thrapmore Road, and is heading back toward his own stable. If the poor girl only keeps her seat —but we ought to ride ” And off they went, even Miss Martin and Miss Leader ceasing to groan at the unwonted eve-lion, on account of Violet's peril. Sir Harker, who anew the country, led the way. But neck-and-neck with him rode Sir Richard Mortmain, better mounted, and ready to dash forward, and by rescuing Miss Mowbray from danger to establish a claim to her gratitude that might forward his mercenary courtship. "What a chance!” he muttered between his white teeth, as he flew swiftly on — “what a stroke of luck! I say, Topham, are you sure we’re on the right road?” “Don’t you hear the rattle of the hoofs?” gruffly retorted Sir Harker, who was a good-natured young fellow in the main. “All I hope is, she won’t meet a cart or a carriage, and that the beast will stick to the road.” On they sped. It is no light matter, the pursuit of a runaway horse, when the life of one whom we have loved or liked is at stake. Vidlet Mowbray had won the good will of almost everybody at Thorsdale, and even hard little Mrs. Seoresby, who was fighting her own upwari] battle so sedulously that she had seldom time to care for the pains and cares of others, was for once sympathetic. The sound of the terrified hoise’s hoofs came to their ears like the ro 1 of distant thunder. They hurried on in n long straggling file, Sir Richard and the Yorkshire baronet leading.

"Thoredale’s near, anyhow!” exclaimed Sir Harker, as he recognized some familiar objects. Sir Richard spurted on. Presently these two, followed by the rest, but at a long interval, reached the Park, reached the gieat court yard, with the block of stabling beyond it The great yard was brigntly lighted now with lanterns and candles hastily brought out. The central point of attraction was a gray horse, specked and wreathed with foani, in n lather of heat, snorting wildly, with distended nostrils, his bridle floating loose, his saddle empty. It was the mottled gray. But wncre was his rider? None of the grooms, helpers, indoor servants who had come harrying out, could answer that question. Where was Violet Mowbray? CHAPTER XVII. The mist on the high moors, like all such mists, horeren nbove the ground like a gray winding sheet, leaving a foot or tw.q of clear air, and rendering it quite possible for n pedestrian, by stooping or kneeling at Intervals, to see liis way tor a few yards, ana to ascertain that he had not .'wandered from the beaten track. iFlew M however, are those, not moordand born ,a.t)d bred, who are fit to cross with safety any considerable waste, such ns 'tlfe’ Yot'kshire Wolds, when once the fog--drtft >ha® set in. Don, who had been an apt pupil of the keepers and herdsmen, must have been one of those exceptional persons, since he held to the beaten path •across the mkor on his way back from some solitary farm.

Wha* was that lying on the gTass by the roadside, quite still? A woman’s forte, dttreiy: lind, as surely, lying there in the*awful quiet <of death! Yes, it was a lady .in a riding habit, her bright silken hair loosened, and streaming over her shoulder as she thus lay. That she was yoiih'g and 'faV to look upon Don eould seej but It was not until he came a step ior two-nearer, aud could recognize the palq upturned face, that the full horror of the discovery rushed upon him. His own heart ceased to beat. He started baite aghast.. Violet—-Violet Mowbray—cold, .flead, forever gone, in the early bloom of her youthful promise, from the world and’from him! With a great sob he fnunbd forward, and kneeling on the grass, lifted th** lifeless forte in his strong .gnus*

, darling, my darling!” he cried out, wildly; “my Violet, my hope, my all!” These was n > response. The fair, helpless young head lay passive on Don’s S&ouldey., lie clasppd the insensible form to his heart and kissed the pale cheek. “Oh, my love, thy 16ve!” exclaimed the young-man; pmskmately; “are you gone from, me, my dearest? I have worshiped ,yoq. f? r , year.? always hoping—against hppe—one day t 6 be worthy of you. and hhw death has robbed me of the thing I loved the best on earth—my Violet, mv angel!" And again he kissed her, while his tears fell fast upon her pallid face. What was that? Surely a sigh. Violet’s lips were • parted, her eyes opened feebly, and she moyed,.as if trying to rise. Half incredulous, in mingled joy and confusion, Dou drew bach. “Can it be?” he asked. “Yes—l—l remember now how it happened,” said Violet, in a 1 weak voice. “Forgive, me--pray, forgive me,” pleaded Don, flushing crimson, and tingling in every pulse with shame and anger against himself, “since I thought I had—lost you. Forget my folly, and forgive!” “There is nothing to forgive, dear friend—nothing’ said Violet, in her sweet low voice, and she put out her little hand to him. Don clasped it in his own and held it fast. “1 ought not to have spoken,” said Don, contritely, as he aided Miss Mowbray to rise; “bat can it be, dear Violet, that you are unhurt? You have been riding. Where are your friends? How could they leave you here? and by what strange coincidence could it be my fortune to find you here in th’s solitary Spot? But you are safe. Oh! tell me again, Miss Violet, •that you ore unharmed; and lean on me, for yyu are ueak and trembling, fa I pee.” Poor Violet had little to telL She had been thrown, and had been senseless, and had lain 00 the turf beside the road in a , ,i*qtii —until Don found her. As for,the horse, it had vanished. And that .vras all. She said no more; but there was ’a’ twite n ee'in hefmannef, a’Bhylooking earthward of those beantifnl great eyes of here, and an avoidance of Don’s gaze, which forced upon the young man the conviction that the girl had a perfect memory of how he had clasped her in his arm* and kissed her, believing her, as he

did, to be dead. Add then some ehivaL pons instinct in his heart awakened, and he feh that h-’ must tell his tale and plead bis cause under all disadvantages of worldly position. Because he had gone so far, he was, as it were, bound to go further. ‘‘l ought not to have spoken,” said Don, half penitently but half proudly, too; “I know that 1 ought not. For the sake of much kindness from kind Mr. Langton and his wife, it would have been treacherous in me, as well as presumptuous, to breathe a word of love to the young lady who dwelt beneath his roof. I have put a padlock on my lips hitherto, and have schooled-my very eyes not to betray me. But this has been too much for my resolve and my reserve. My secret, kept for months and years, has been wrung from me at last. The excitement of that miserable moment scattered all my prudence, all my wise determination, to the winds. It is true, Vioiet—l may call you by that dear name?—that I though* you dead, and that with the loss of you all the joy and brightness of my own life were gone—gone forever! So the passionate cry broke from my heart, and so I dared to kiss your cheek, and to clasp you to my breast, and to tell you how I loved—but I was all unaware that your ears, dearest, could drink in my wild words. I must, as I am an honest man, repeat them now. Yes, I, the poor jet hunter, the nameless, kinless founding of the sea-beach, have dared to love the highly connected Miss Mowbray, and to tell her so. Now, if you choose to banish me for my presumption, I cat but bow my head and £0” She seemed stronger by this time, and had let go her hold on his arm, and be stood a little way off, looking intently in her face with his dark, eager eyes. "You have not—have not offended me, Mr. Don—indeed!" she said. He sprang forward, hope, wonder, love flashing from his bright eyes, and again he took her band. “Violet —Miss Mowbray,” said Don, quickly, "can it ■be that I have heard aright? Can it be that you do not chide me for the presumption, the ” “There was no presumption," almoet whispered Violet. “You saved my life, but before that day the recollection of you, the image of you. as the truest gentleman, the best and bravest I had ever known, had grown to be—l may own it now—very dear to me.” And then Don took her in his arms and kissed her, and for a few delicious moments the two young things felt as supremely happy as if they had suddenly been spirited away into some enchanted island, where Love reigned supreme. (To be continued.)

TWO SHIPS RACED TO PORT.

Close Running Between the Henry Villard and the Kenilworth. “Report me,” signaled Capt Patten, of the American ship Henry Villard. "Report me,” signaled back Capt. Baker, of the American ship Kenilworth. That was on June 14, 2 degrees below the equator. Both ships, owned by Arthur Sewall & Co., of Bath, Me., and consigned to D. B. Dearborn, with cargoes to the American Sugar Refining Company, were voyaging from the Sandwich Islands. The Villard, a three-masted wooden ship of American build, sailed from Hilo on the Island of Hawaii. The Kenilworth, an iron four-master, built on the Clyde, but which was burned in San Francisco harbor five years ago, and secured American registry by the expenditure of a required percentage of her value on repairs in the United States, sailed from Honolulu, 180 miles further distant, the preceding day. They arrived off the bar an hour apart early Friday morning. The Kenilworth, ninety-eight days out, anchored at 3a. in. The Villard anchored at 4 a. m. They had been in company twenty-three days, each doing Its best to comply with the signaled request, and each anxious that the other should not be put to the actual trouble of doing anything of the kind. So it happened that the two captains, after their vessels had been towed up to quarantine, came to the city In the same tug and reported to their agent together.

Capt. Baker was formerly master of the Villard, and Capt. Patten was then his first mate. Capt. Patten is proud of uis ship, but the Kenilworth, he said, is the fastest sailor afloat, and that she did not report him several days before the Vlllard’B arrival was due to the barnacles which befoul a metal-bottom-ed craft much quicker than they do a wooden one. The Kenilworth has not been In dry dock for a year.

Capt. Patten said he lost one day In the light winds getting clear of the land. Then he caught the northeast trade wind, which carried him to the equator in eight days. Then he picked up the southeast trade, which took him to Cook’s Island, where he found westerly winds to the Horn, which he made In forty-five days from starting. It was a strong breeze all the way. Favorable weather continued on the Atlantic to 23 degrees south latitude, when the Villard lay becalmed for several days. She finally took the southeast trade, which helped her to the equator. It was light, and when in 2 degrees south latitude, a sail was espied overhauling her and bringing a wind up with her. It proved to be the Kenilworth, which for a greater part of the voyage had been probably not more than thirty miles away. For the remainder of the voyage the two ships were in sight of each other, but had little to say in the signaling way after the first interchange of courtesies. “There was too much work to do,** said Capt. Patten. “I kept my eye constantly -on the canvas, and saw to it that every stitch was drawing. Neither ship gained much. They Just seesawed, according to the men we had at the wheel. There’s a difference in helmsmen. Sometimes we were four miles apart, then twenty. I struck a little squall just before I came In, and some of the older canvas was split, but beyond that the weather was good. Only once were the royals taken in. The Kenilworth drew ahead of the Villard off Bamegat.** ’•Mine is the same story,” caid Capt Baker. ‘Tt was nip and tuck all the way." The Villard brought 2,500 tons and the Kenilworth 3,027 tons of sugar.— New York Times.

A Delicate Perfume.

From the drainage of stables bar been manufactured the French eau dv. mllle fleurs, or water of a thousand flowers, a perfume' which, in Itself, combines the odors of almost the entire floral kingdom. His face was of the doubtful kind that wins the eye and not the mind.— Scott

POLITICS OF THE DAY

A MANLY MAN. It is every day becoming plainer that the gold forces recognize William J. Bryan as the most formidable candidate that could have been placed in the presidential race. Aside from the wonderful strength given the Democratic party by its fearless declaration for the free coinage of silver at the ratio of 16 to 1, the unassailable character of Mr. Bryan both as a statesman and a citizen makes him the nominee upon whom all eyes are fixed. The opposition Is laying’inueh stress upon the youth of the Nebraska man, yet therein lies his great power to win the support of the majority of the voters. His nomination marks a new era In the history of the country. It writes the word “finis” to a period that covers more than thirty years. The war heroes have passed by and the nation Is glad to turn to a leader who represents the union of North and South, and who champions a cause that affects the prosperity of all the people. Mr. Bryan was only five years old when the civil strife ended, and the events that have been personal exi>eriences to the men who have occupied the White House since Lincoln’s time are a stirring part of a written history to him. With tbe exception of Mr. Cleveland, every president since William J. Bryan’s childhood has served In the field of battle. Four years hence, tvhen the next term of office as chief executive of the United States shall be concluded, all the active business of the country will be in the hands of the new generation.

OPPOSED TO INCOME TAX, BUT INTEREST MUST BE PAID IN GOLD.

The man with small income, who pays bio interest and taxes. —St. Louis Post-Dispatch.

Citizens of the great republic who were voters before the war will be aged men. These veterans in politics will have surrendered their places to successors who are contemporaries of the man now opposed because he has not numbered two score years. As a type of this latter day, no man could be more representative than Mr. Bryan. Born of parents who stood as the best examples of American citizenship, he was given the opportunities that belong to every boy reared in this great country. He inherited with his extraordinary intellectual talents a patriotism that became the keynote of Ids ambitions. Realizing the full meaning of the opportunity called life, he has steadily held the highest aspirations and patiently performed the every-day duties that came to him. Accepting his talents as a sacred trust, he has always made the best use of them. Winning many laurels as a statesman before he had readied the thirties, lie never realized that he had achieved more than most n\en. He simply appreciated the responisbillties put upon them and tried to discharge them for the good of the people and not for the acquirement of personal fame. With the warmest sympathy in humanity in general, and having experienced alt the financial struggles that come to the man who has his way to make, he is in the closest touch with the people. Yd the real secret of his power does not lie in this fact. Mr. Bryan still retains the high ideals of youth, the abiding faltli in the destiny of the nation, the vivid apprehension of the possibilities eucompasing each Individual. When he speaks, ’ his words are the outpouring of earnest thought and sincere conviction. Being true to himself, the man who has been acknowledged the finest orator of the day lifts up and inspires all who come under his influence.

Since acts are the outgrowth of thoughts, Mr. Bryan’s biography is au honorable record, in which no one can find any unworthy pages. The American people will do credit to themselves and to their country by electing him president.—Denver Sun. A Word to the Deserters. The right of any man to shake the dust from his feet and depart from the Democratic party at any time is denied by nobody. A political organization is a consorting together of persons aiming at the same ends and purposes of public policy. If a member changes his mind he has full liberty to betake himself elsewhere, whither he will. But he has uo moral right to assume that his act of secession has so changed both his own nature and that of his former associates as to elevate him away above the equal level they all formerly occupied, and to depress them relatively in the same degree. Jn other words, he assumes any aim of new superiority with a bad grace; end if he has abusive things to say, or even to Insinuate, concerning his former comrades, he undertakes in doing so a perilous adventure. For retort and

reply are sure to come, and the final judgment of mankind invariably favors the mass and not the straggling individual. Certain Democrats who have been ?iigh in their party’s councils, and have been overwhelmed by it with honors, have lately seen fit to go out of our camp and to indulge in offensive declarations as to the conduct and motives of the great multitude they have left behind. They claim to be “honest,” to lie “sound,” to be “honorable.” They consider it their privilege to say that those with whom they disagree are "Anarchists,” "rabble,” “enemies of society.” If their zeal will allow them to reflect, they will see that in all this they are acting unwisely. The bandying of epithets does not advance any cause. Furthermore, it is an exercise which all can Indulge in. We would, therefore, caution these distinguished renegades to go slow. We have no desire to quarrel needlessly with them. We look to them to go their way, to lie down on the resting place they may find and prefer. In the noble language of Jefferson, we hold them "enemies in war, in peace friends.” We shall not copy nor follow them. We shall not suffer them to continue to Insult their former brethren; but beyond that we do not care to encounter them. Let them go in peace. In the words of the pious old patriarch of Scripture* who contemplated around him confusion, treachery and dishonor, and who had resource but in the old faith he had so long professed, we can only exclaim: “As for us and our house,

REPUBLICAN IDEA OF FINANCE.

we will serve the Lord!”—New York News. Queer Protection Lottie. Knowing that' the American people are united in hatred of the great trusts which rob tbe consumers through high prices, the MeKinleyite organs, little and big, agree in charging that the Wilson tariff was changed in the Senate at the dictation of the Sugar Trust, Steel Combine, Iron Ore Trust and other great monopolies which warded higher duties than were levied by the tariff bill when it left the House. The unpopularity of the McKinley tariff is so universal that the Republican party’s only hope lies in fastening on the Wilson law the stigma of being “a u-ust tariff.” The peculiar feature of this attempt to gain votes for McKioleyism by denouncing the trust portions of the present tariff, is in tts proposed remedy for the higher duties secured by a combination of Democratic protectionists like Gorman and Brice with the Republicans in the Senate. If it be true, as charged by the high tariff press, that the duties on trust products in the law of 1894 were the result of trust influence, it must follow that high taxes help the trusts. And nothing is more certain than that such is the case. Nobody ever heard of a trust sending its representatives to Washington to work for lower duties. How do the Republicans propose to deal with the tariff taxes which enable the trusts and combines to plunder tbe people? Do they say: “These duties were increased by the Senate solely because the trusts wanted more protection? We are opposed to trust exactions and will therefore reduce or abolish all taxes which in any way favor trusts.” Not at all. Their remedy is more duties; higher taxes ou foreign goods which compete with trust products; more favors for monopolies. They are pledged to restore the McKinley law, which gave the trusts far

IF THE DRESS AND THE HAIR WERE SIMILAR.

The artists find a remarkable resemblance of Bryan to Washington in the prominent lines of the face. v

more protection than is afforded by the present tariff. This will of course mean that the people will be robbed still more by the trusts than they are now. The ilcKlnleyites’ way of figuring is something like this: “The Wilson tariff imposes some taxes on imports. Taxes on imports help trusts. We are opposed to trusts because they are unpopular. Therefore we propose to increase the taxes on imports and thus strengthen the trusts!”

Republicans and the Income Tax. The McKinleyite organs and politicians are doing their best to dodge the income-tax issue in the present campaign. They know that the law providing for a 2 per cent, tax on incomes, which was enacted by the Democrats in 1894, was one of the most popular measures which ever passed through Congress. They know that the people are tired of a tax system which collects public revenue from the goods used by the masses, and that the injustice of tariff taxes are now everywhere understood. And they know very well that in the public mind the tariff stands for restrictions on beneficial trade; for heavier taxes on the poor than on the rich; the creation of protected monopo’ies and trusts. At the same time it is evident to even the dull brains of McKinley shouters that a tax levied on the superfluous Incomes of the owners of great wealth is one which a large majority of the voters want. Of course it would never do for true believers in the theory that taxes on imports are good because they make things dear, to favor a system which made the necessities of life cheap by relieving them of taxation. The Republican party depends for its very existence on the funds contributed by the trusts and manufacturing monopolies. Those, in turn, depend for their enormous profits on the favors given them by protection. Without the tariff the corrupt alliance of plutocrats and politicians would go to pieces.

The man with great income, who recieves big interest and pays small taxes.

There will be registered this year about 15,000,000 voters. If every man who will be benefited by the adoption of an income tax, or some other form of direct taxation instead of the unjust and oppressive protective tariff, will vote according to his interests the Democratic candidates would be elected by more than 14,000,000 majority. Why Not? We use more silver than gold in our every day business. Why shouldn’t silver be a standard money as well as gold? A silver dollar has sixteen times as many grains of silver as a gold dollar has grains of gold. Why shouldn’t the ratio in value be made standard as well as the ratio in weight? We have different standards of dry measure, of linear measure, etc., and the value of a bushel is in a ratio to the value of a quart of any product. Why cannot we have a double standard of values? Why can we not make the value of so many grains of silver a fixed ratio to so many grains of gold, call each a dollar, and compel the coinage of the two precious metals to adhere to this standard or ratio. The preeiousness of gold to silver is about as one to sixteen, estimating from the respective quantities of each mined. Revolutionary? Yea. Why Not? Of course this movement is revolutionary. All movements are revolutionary that attempt to make a struggle against the status quo, against “the going scheme.” Of course it contains some error. All such movements do. But the new departure of the Democratic party assumes to be the voice of the downtrodden and oppressed many against the aristocratic assumptions of the few, against the special privileges enacted into law, by which during the past few decades the wealth of this great country has largely drifted into the hands of a few, who corner it and make financial panics or bond speculations at will.—Cleveland (Ohio) Recorder.

THE USE OF OLD HATS.

One of the Most Important Parts of Man’s Costume Formerly the United States imported the major part of the hats used within its borders from Europe, especially from England, Germany and France, the latter and Vienna furnishing the best quality of silk hate. To-day the hat industry in the United States has assumed such enormous proportions that it not only supplies the home demand, but many thousands of American hats find their way across the ocean to foreign customers. There are factories in this country, like the Stetson company in Philadelphia, that produce in the neighborhood of 50,000 dozen a year, while the American styles are freely acknowledged to be superior to those of Europe. The quality of hats manufactured in this country is also superior to that manufactured abroad, with the exception of the silk hat, the consumption of which has of late decreased considerably. The fact seems to be that foreign hats are imported solely for a certain class of American consumers who prefer anything foreign to a domestic article. For what with the quality, style and quantity of bats produced in the United States, there seems to be no necessity for importation. The material from which the better class of hats is made is imported largely from several European countries and from South America, the latter furnishing the exceedingly fine quality of nutria fur. Russian and German hares, white and yellow carrot, and beaver in raw and carrot state, also enter largely in the manufacture. Considering the good material hats are made of, it will be interesting to note what becomes of the millions of hats that are annually, or even monthly, discarded by their owners in a condition which should allow' their continued wearing for a considerable time to come.

The discarded hats of the rich man rarely fall into other hands than those of his valet, who either uses them himself or disposes of them, together with other pieces of his master’s discarded wardrobe, to friends or dealers in second-hand clothing. As these hats are generally in very good condition, they find a ready sale without the process of renovation which other hats coming from less distinguished sources have to undergo, and they share their fate only at a second change of owners. The average professional and business man does not trouble himself about the disposal of discarded hats. They generally remain in some closet in the office or at home until an applicant for the same appears. But there are many men of this class with an economical turn of mind who do not disdain to enter into negotiations with the hat doctor. This individual makes a canvass in the down-town office buildings, where he contracts for the rejuvenation of worn headpieces, guaranteeing to return them, for a certain consideration, “as good as new.” He does not buy hats; he is only a sort of broker, as the actual work of rejuvenating a hat is done by some dyeing and repairing establishment wiiich makes a specialty of this business.

These establishments form the maeltrom toward which are drawn the discarded hats from all sources. Here the hat of the plutocrat mixes with that of the lawyer, the merchant and the dry goods clerk, undergoing the same process of cleaning or dyeing. All distinctions of rank disappear ia the dyeing vat, where nutria, hair and shoddy are on an equal footing, all soaking in the new color, which, together with a fresh binding, assures them a new lease of life. The career of a hat is a short one, its average of life after leaving the factory and up to the time it gets into the hands of the hat doctor being not more than six months. The silk hat lasts somewhat longer, and its experience is generally a little more varied than that of the derby or soft hat. When a silk hat reaches the rejuvenating stage it >3 a more pliable subject than any of its comrades.

The Oldest Known Bird.

“The Solenhofen slate of Bavaria, ,r writes Prof. H. G. Seeley in his recent little volume, “The Story of the Earthin Past Ages,” “makes known numerous insects and other forms of terrestrial life of this period, including the oldest known bird. A bird is known by its feathers, though there is no reason why the covering to the skin should not be as variable in the group of animals as among reptiles or mammals. It is, therefore, xemarkable that the oldest known bird, the archaeopteryx, has feathers as well developed as in the existing representatives of the class and similarly arranged. • "The animal is an elegant, slender bird, which is chiefly remarkable for showing teeth in the jaws. About twelve, short and conical, occur on each side of the upper jaw. The bird was larger than the robin in its body and had a tail of which there was a bony core some six inches in length. The wings were quite as well developed as the legs, there are some evidences that the former could be applied to the ground as are the forelegs of quadrupeds, although the feathers show the wings to have been constructed on the same plan as the birds of today. The Solenhofen stone, in which so many of the remains of fishes, reptiles and insects are found, is the same that is used for lithographing purposes, being of exceedingly close texture and of remarkable smoothness when prepared for its work.”

Passed a School of Whales.

The unusual sight was witnessed last Friday off Cape Hatteras by Captain. Doyle, of the British steamship Bendo, of a school of large sperm whales disporting themselves at sea, says the Philadelphia Record. They were moving along at a slow, steady pace, and in the distance appeared like rocks on an unknown shore. A slight breeze springing up. a number of waterspouts appeared. The whales started in pursuit of these, evidently desiring to have the spouts break over them. As long ns the Bendo vras in sight of them the big fish could be seen playing about like children in a bathtub. Captain Doyle said that there was a fortune assured for any whaling vessel that might happen to strike the school.