Evening Republican, Volume 14, Number 133, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 4 June 1910 — Page 3

THE QUICKENING

CHAPTER VI. On« purple and russet afternoon, when all the silent forest world was •teeped In the deep peace of early autumn, Thomas Jefferson was fishing luxuriously In the most distant of the tipper pools. There were three fat perch gill-strung on a forked withe un4er the overhanging bank, and a fourth wae rising to the bait, yhen the peaceful stillness was rudely rent by. a ■crashing In the undergrowth, and a preat dog, of a breed hitherto unknown to Paradise, bounded into the little fflade to stand glaring at the fisherman, his teeth bared and his black hairs bristling. "Oh, pleasel Don't hurt my dog!” •aid a rather weak little voice out of the rearward void. “You come round here and call him off o’ me.” “He Is not wishing to' hurt you, or •nybody,” said the voice. “Down, Hector!" The Great Dane passed from suspicious rigidity and threatening lip twitchings to mighty and frivolous Cambolings, and Thomas Jefferson got tip to give him room. A girl was trying to make the dog behave. So he had a chance to look her over before the battle for sovereignty should begln. There was a little shock of disdainful surprise to go with the first glance. Somehow he had been expecting something very different; something on the ■order of the Queen of Sheba —done •mall, of course—as that personage was pictured in the family Bible —a plrl, proud and scornful, and possibly wearing a silk dress and satin shoes. Instead, she was only a pale, tired tiaby in a brier-torn frock; a girl whose bones showed brazenly "at every •ingle, and whose only claim to a second glance lay in her thick mop of Teddlsh-brown hair and in a pair of .great, slate-blue eyes two sizes too large for the thin face. A double conclusion came and sat in Thomas Jef-* ferson’s mind: she was rather to be contemptuously pitied than feared; «.nd as for looks—well, she was not to be thought of in the same day with black-eyed Nan Bryerson. When the ■dog was reduced to quietude, the small one repaid Thomas Jefferson’s stare with a level gaze out of the over-sized eyes. * “Was It that you were afraid of Hector?” she asked. “Huh!” said Thomas Jefferson, and the scorn was partly for her queer way of speaking and partly for the foolishness of the question. “Huh! I reckon you don’t know who I am. I’d have killed your dog if he’d jumped on me, maybe.” “You are Thomas Gordon. Your mother took care of me and prayed <or me when_l was sick. Hector is a —an extremely good dog. He would not Jump at you.” “It’s mighty lucky for him he didn’t,” bragged Thomas Jefferson, with a very creditable - imitation of his father’s grim frown. Then he sat down on the bank of the stream and busied himself with his fishing-tackle as if he considered the incident closed. “What is it that you are trying to 4o?” asked Ardea, when the silence bad extended to the third worm Impaled on the hook and promptly abstracted therefrom by a wily sucker, lying at the bottom of the pool. “I' was flshin’ some before you and your dog came along and scared all the perch away,” he said, sourly. Then, turning suddenly on her: “Why don’t you go ahead and say it? Is it ’cause you’re afeard to?” “I don't know what you mean." “I know what you’re going to say; you are going to tell me this is your grandfather’s land and run me off. But 1 ain’t aimin’ to go till I’m good and ready.” / “You are such a funny boy,” she remarked, and there was something In ber way of saying it that made Thomas Jefferson feel little and Infantile and Inferior, though he was sure there must be an immense age difference n bis favor. “I think you are mean, mean!” she sobbed, with an angry •tamp of her foot “I—l want to go to-ome!" "Well, I reckon there ain’t anybody boldin’ you,” said Thomas Jefferson, brutally. He was Intent on fixing the sixth worm on the hook in such fashion as permanently to discourage the bait thief, and was coming to his own in the matter of self-possession with grateful facility. It was going to be notably easy to bully her—another point of difference between her and JJan Bryerson. “I know there Isn’t anybody holding me, but —but I can’t find the way.” ‘‘You want me to show you?” he asked, putting all the ungraciousness be could muster into the query. “You might tell me, I should think! I’ve walked and walked!” “I reckon I'd better take you; you might get lost again,” he said, with gloomy sarcasm. Then he consumed all the time he could for the methodical disposal of his fishing-tackle. It would be good for her to learn that •he must wait on his motions. She waited patiently, sitting on the ground with one arm around the neck of the Great Dane; and when Thomas Jefferson stole a glance at her to see bow she was taking it, she looked so tired and thin and woebegone that he almost let the better part of him get the upper hand. That made him surlier than ever when he finally recovered his string of fish from the stream and said: “Well, come on, if you’re cornin’.” He told himself, hypocritically, that It was only to show her what hardships she would have to face if she should try to tag him, that he dragged, ber such a weary round over the hills and through the worst brier patches

BY FRANCIS LYNDE

and across and across The creek, doubling and circling until the easy mtle was spun out into three uncommonly difficult ones. But at bottom the motive was purely wicked. In all the range of sentient creatures there is none so innately and barbarously cruel as the human boy-child; and this was the first time Thomas Jefferson had ever had a helplessly pliable subject. The better she kept up, the more determined he became to break her down; but at th very last, when she stumbled and fell in an old leaf bed and cried for sheer weariness, he Relented enough to say: “I reckon you’ll know better than to go projectin’ round in the woods the next time. Come on— We're rifost there, now.” But Ardea's troubles were not yet at an end. She stopped crying and got up to follow him blindly over more hills and through other brier tangles; and when they finally emerged in the cleared lands, they were still on the wrong side of the creek/“It’s only about up to your chin; reckon you can wade it?” asked Thomas Jefferson, in a sudden access of heart-hardening. But it softened him a little to see he* gather her torn frock and stumble down to the water’s edge without a word, and he added: "Hold on; maybe we can find a log, somewhere.” ■ There was a foot log Just around the next bend above, as he very well knew, and thither he led the way. The dog made the crossing first, and stood wagging his tall encouragingly on the bank of safety. Then Thomas Jefferson passed his trembling victim out on the log. “You go first,” he directed; “s<? ’t I can catch you If you slip.” “Oh, you ptaufe go first, so I won’t have to look down at the water!” “No; I’m coming behind—then I can catch you if you get dizzy and go to fall,” he said, stubbornly. “Will you walk right up close, so I can know you are there?” Thomas Jefferson’s smile was cruelly misleading, as were his words. “All you’ll have to do will be to reach your hand back and grab me,” he assured her; and thereupon she began in Inch her way out over the swirling pool. When he saw that she could by no possibility turn to look back, Thomas Jefferson deliberately sat down on the bank to watch her. There had never been anything in his life so tlgerishly delightful as this game of playing on the feelings and fears of the girl whose coming had spoiled the solitudes.

For the first few feet Ardea went steadily forward, keeping her eyes fixed on the Great Dane sitting motionless at the farther end of the bridge of peril. Then, suddenly the dog grew Impatient and began to leap and bark like a foolish puppy. It was too much for Ardea to have her eye-anchor thus transformed into a dizzylpg whirlwind of gray monsters. She reached backward for the reassuring hand; it was not there, and the next instant the hungry pool rose up to engulf her. In all his years Thomas Jefferson had never had such a stab as that which an ( lnstantly awakened conscience gave him when she slipped and fell. Now he was her murderer, beyong any hope future mercies. For a moment of it held him ■vise-like. Th® the sight of the great Pane plunging to the rescue freed him. “Good dog!”.he. screamed, diving headlong from his own side of the pool; and between them Ardea was dragged ashore, a limp little heap of saturation, conscious, but with her teeth chattering and great, dark circles around the big blue eyes. “I’m awfully sorry!” he stammered. “If you can’t make out to forgive me. I’m going to have a miser’ble time of it after I get home.” “It will serve you quite right. Now you’d better get me home as quick as ever you can. I expect I’ll be sick again, after this.” He held his peace and walked her as fast as he could across the fields and out on the pike. But at the Dabney gates he paused. It was not in human courage to face the Major under existing conditions. “I reckon you’ll go and tell your gran'paw on me," he said, hopelessly. “Why should I not tell him? And I never want to see you or hear of you again, you cruel, hateful boy!” Thomas Jefferson hung about the gate while she went stumbling up the driveway,'leaving heavily on the great dog. When she had safely reached the house he went slowly homeward, wading in trouble even as he waded In the white dust of the pike. For when one drinks too deeply of the cup of tyranny the lees are apt to be'like the little book the Revelator ate—sweet as honey in the mouth and bitter in the belly. That evening at the supper-table he had one nerve-racking fear dispelled and another confirmed by his mother’s reply to a question put by his father. ■ “Yes; the Major sent for me again this afternoon. That child la back In bed again with a high fever. It seems she was out playing with that great dog of hers and fell into the creek. I wanted to tell the Major he is Just tempting Providence, the way he makes over her and indulges her, but I didn’t dare to.” And Thomas Jefferson knew that he was the one who had tempted Providence. . CHAPTER VII. From the grave and thoughtful van-tage-ground of 13, Thomas Jefferson could look back on the second illness of Ardea Dabney as the closing Incident of childhood. The industrial changes which were then beginning, not only for the city beyond the mountain, but for all the region round about, had rushed swiftly on Paradise; and the old listless life of the unbasting

period soon receded aulckly Into a faraway past, rememberable only when one made an effort to recall it. First had come the completion of the Great Southwestern. Diverted by the untiring opposition of Major Dabney from its chdsen path through the valley, it skirted the westward hills, passing within a few hundred yards of the Gofdon furnace. Since business knows no animosities, the part which Caleb Gordon and his gun crew had played in the right-of-way conflict was ignored. The way-station at the creek crossing was named Gordonia, and it was the railway traffic manager himself who suggested to the iron-master the taking of a partner with capital, the opening of the vein of coking coal on Mount Lebanon, the installation - of coking-ovens, and the modernizing and enlarging of the furnace ; and foundry plant—hints all pointing to Increased traffic for the road. With the coming of Mr. Duxbury Farley to Paradise, Thomas Jefferson lost, not only the simple life, but the desire to live it. This Mr. Farley, whom we have seen and heard, momentarily, on the station platform in South Tredegar, the expanded, hailed from Cleveland, Ohio; was, as he was fond of saying pompously, a citizen of no mean city. His business in the reawakening, South was that of an intermediary between cause and effect; the cause being the capital of confiding investors in the North, and the effect the dissipation of the same In various and sundry development schemes *ln the new iron field. To Paradise, in Jhe course of his goings to and fro, came this purger of other men’s purses, and he saw the fortuitous grouping of the possibilities at a glance: abundant iron of good quality ; an accessible vein of coal, second only to Pocahontas for coking; land cheap, water free, and a persuadable subject in straightforward, sim-ple-hearted Caleb Gordon. Farley had no capital, but he had that which counts far more in the promoter’s field; namely, the ability to reap where others had sown. His plan, outlined to Caleb in a sweeping caval-ry-dash of enthusiasm, was simplicity itself. Caleb should contribute the raw material—land, water and the ore quarry—and it should also be his part to secure a lease of the coal land from Major Dabney. In the meantime he, Farley, would undertake to float the enterprise in the North, forming a company and selling stock to provide the development capital. A company was formed, the charter was obtained, and the golden stream began to flow into the treasury; Into it and out again in the raceway channels of development. Thomas Jefferson stood aghast when an army of workmen swept down on Paradise and began to change the very face of nature. But that was only the beginning.

For a time Chlawassee Coal and Iron” figured buoyantly in the market quotations, and delegations of stockholders, both present and prospective, were personally conducted to the scene of activities by enthusiastic Vice-Presi-dent Farley. But when these had served their purpose a thing happened. One fine morning It was whispered on ’Change that Chlawassee iron would not Bessemer, and that Chlawassee coke had been rejected by the Southern Association of Iron Smelters. Following a crash which was never very clearly understood by the simplehearted sdldier Iron-master, though It was merely a repetition of a lesson well conned by the earlier Investors In Southern coal and iron fields. Caleb’s craft was the making of Iron; not the financing of top-heavy corporations. So, when he was told that the company had failed, and that he and Farley had been appointed receivers, he took It as a financial matter, of course, somewhat beyond his ken, and went about his dally task of supervision with a mind as undisturbed as it would have been distraught had be known some - thing of the subterranean mechanism by which the failure and the receivership had been brought to pass. (To be continued.)

A FEW SCIENCE BRIEFS.

Interesting Discoveries by the Genial Office Statistician. Research proves that the smallest men push the heaviest loads, while the big fellows hold down the office chairs, the New York Times says. A cubic foot of water is a load for one man. A cubic foot of near-whisky will make a load for forty men. One of the most peculiar optical illusions is the fact that a small front yard looks larger than the State of Indiana when viewed from the rear of a dull lawn mower. Out of the 26,232,615 haircuts administered in this country laßt year thirty-seven were cut just as the patrons desired they should be. Wild geese fly in the shape of a V —even on the restaurant menu. The first green thing to show after the melting snow is the labels on the empty tin cans in the back yards. It is a peculiar fact that the Chinese of this country forget their English as soon as they are arrested and do not Recover it until they are free again. Halley’s comet first appeared in the newspapers last October and will be visible in the Magazines about the 20th of May—north-by-east of the rear advertising pages. The driest thing on earth is a Dutch picnic on a July day in a temperance township. The diamond Is bo hard it wilt make a large dent in this hardest heart.

The destruction of our old apple trees threatens the supply of genuine French briar. 4i The boll-weevil has wrought untold havoc with this year’s importations of pure olive oil. With the Invention of the bath tub in 1823 the number of perfume factories decreased 90 per cent,. The easiest thing to touch is tc*ne one who wants a favor, y}.

Housekeeper’s Reason.

"What is your chler objection to moving pictures?” “The dust that has accumulated behind them."—Birmingham Age-Herald.

NOTHING NEW UNDER THE SUN.

Many “Inventions” Improvements on Things Existing,Long Ago. There is no new thing under the sun. Many of our boasted new “inventions” are simply second editions of things which were Invented a thousand years ago, Pearson's Weekly says. The taxicab is by no means a new idea. A German professor has written a letter to the Frankfort Gazette, in which hfe says he has discovered that Vitruvius, the Roman historian, describes a taximeter cab in use in Rome the year 79 A. D.

The mechanism of the taximeter caused a stone to drop into a box under the carriage every thousand paces. At the end of the journey the driver counted the stones which hatd fallen into the box, and in this way was able to calculate the fare.

Within the last fifty years an Englishman produced a particular kind of pin, which he called a “safety” pin. For this admirable service to mankind he was highly honored and fetes and favors have showered upon him. However, when some one was poking about among the ruins of Pompeii they came upon a large number of bronze safety pins They were quite up-to-date pins, too. There was a coiled spring at one end and a catch at the other—just like those in constant use at the present day. Thimbles have been found in prehistoric mounds and combs and hairpins were in existence before the Christian era. It is guessed with some certainty that the first needle must have been threaded by a thrifty housewife about 5,000 years ago. The combination locks we use today, which can only be opened by a combination of certain numbers and letters, were well known and used extensively by the Chinese many centuries ago. In China, too, they illuminated their houses a couple of thousand years ago with natural gas, which was conveyed to the consumer’s house by means of bamboo tubes. It is calculated that some shorthand systems go back to somewhere about 600 B. C. At any rate, there seems no doubt that the orations of Cicero were written with as much skill and rapidity as the modern stenographer could boast. The ancients knew about electricity and, though we usually credit Watts with the discovery of steam as a motive power, Nero of Alexandria described machines driven by steam 2,000 years before Watts was born. This same gentleman invented a double-force pump, such as is used nowadays as a fire engine, and he anticipated the modern turbine wheel.

FACE THAT WAS FAMILIAR.

Quite Sure She Had Met the Men and So She Really Had. Two richly dressed young girls whose breeding and beauty would pass unquestioned anywhere were among the crowd at an exhibition of paintings last week. Suddenly the taller of them lifted her eyes and exclaimed to her companion, as she caught sight of a man entering the room: “Why, there’s some one I ought to know real well.”

She was looking directly at a man who had not yet seen her, says the New York Press. He was well worth looking at —strong, broad of shoulder, fair as a Norseman, with an air far more material than artistic. The girl’s steady eyes compelled the man’s gaze. As their glances met she bowed. He looked surprised, but made no response. She bowed again with gentle insistence, smiling the while. He was almost up within touch of her as he returned her greeting with seeming protest at doing so. A sudden pressing together of the crowd brought them close to each other, and she purred up to him. “Don’t you think that on the average this year’s exhibition is an improvement on the last?” she asked. “I don’t know, Miss Kirkie,” he returned. simply, with a shyness of manner that seemed strangely enough unsuited to so superb a physical specimen. “I’m no judge. I just came in just because I was given a ticket.” “Y-e-s?” she drawled out. Then hurriedly, as she put out her hand, which he failed to see: “You really will pardon me, won’t you? But I can’t recall where I met you or anything—even your name has slipped my memory. And 1 yet I ought to know it, since you haven’t forgotten mine, I see. And your face is so familiar!” She broke off and looked up at him with eager expectance, as though she were questioning him. Finally he broke what promised to be an icy silence.

“Yes, miss, you used to see me very often when you lived in.the apartment on 72d street. I was—l still am—the janitor there.”

Pardie’s Panacea.

Tom Purdie, an old man servant in Sir Walter Scott’s household, used to talk of the famous “Waverley Novels” as “our books.” and said that the reading of them was the greatest comfort to him. 4 “Whenever I am off my sleep,’’ he confided to James Skene, the author of “Memories of Sir Walter Scott,” ”1 have only to take one of the novels, and before I have read two pages it is sure to Bet me asleep.”

Coming.

Mrs. Marsh —Are you going to vote for Thompson? Mrs. Mallow—No. Ttyey say the other man is much better looking.—St. Louis Post-Dispatch.

? A farmer, who has five boys and two girls, is regarded as a very lucky man

MATRONS’ “CUPID WINGS CLUB.”

A Movement to Hove Separate Churcfees (or Men and Women. The Cupid Wings Club, a noted organization of young matrons, who make the mending of broken hearts a specialty, has started ~a movement to have separate churches for mesa and women, the New York Evening Telegram’s Trenton (N. J.) correspondent says. The club members believe the presence of the gentler sex keeps many men from church. They believe also that if there were separate churches the& would be a slump in the church attendance of women. Mrs. William D. Hamill, chairman of the committee on domestic happiness, has prepared an Interesting paper on tha subject. In part she says: “The young men ‘sneaked’ in as though they were burglars. As soon as the close came I noticed that some of the younger men became uneasy. I came to the conclusion that they were fearful lest they should not be able to make an exit before they were surrounded by the female members of the congregation. The way many of the men tried to get out seemed like dashes for liberty. They did not stop for a moment at the church entrance, but ‘marathoned’ in either direction. “I was sorry for one young man caught in the blockade. He was the picture of embarrassment. He must have heard such expressions as ‘Nellie is wearing last year’s hat,’ ‘I heard that her husband was brought home by a policeman last night,’ ‘That spiteful thing—she thinks she looks pretty,’ ‘Who is that young man? His suit does not fit him,’ as I was near him and listened to these statements and much other gossip. ‘This is a subject the club is going to give particular attention to, because there would be a great deal more happiness in homes, fewer divorces, less vice and misery if more men went to church.”

Queer Indian Beliefs.

There is an odd feature in the theology at the small Indian tribe of the Bella Coola which Inhabit British Columbia In about latitude 52. They believe that there are five worlds, one above the other, and the middle one is our own world, the earth. Above it are two heavens, and under it are two underworlds. In the upper heaven is the supreme deity, who is a woman, and she doesn’t meddle much with the affairs in the second world below her. The zenith is the center of the lower heaven, and here is the house of the gods, in which live the sun and the rest of the deities.

Our own earth is believed to be an island swimming in the ocean. The first underworld from the earth Is inhabited by ghosts, who can return, when they wish, to heaven, from which place they may be sent down to our earth. If then they misbehave again they are cast into the lower of the underworlds, and from this bourne no ghostly traveler returns. The Bella Coola are sun worshipers, for Senex, the sun, the master of the house of gods, who is called the father and the sacred one, is the only deity to whom the tribe pray. Each family of the Bella Coola has its own tradi* tions and its own form of the current traditions, so that in the mythology of the tribe there are countless contradictions. When any one not a member of a clan tries to tell a tradition which does not belong to his clan it Is like a white man trying to tell another’s joke—he is considered as appropriating the property right which does not belong to him.

“You Never Can Tell."

They were youthful enthusiasts in physiognomy. On the seat opposite in the train was a man of commanding figure, masßlve brow and serious expression. “Splendid face!” one of them exclaimed. “What do you suppose his life work has been?” “A lawyer?” suggested the other. “No-o; there’s too much benevolence in that face for a lawyer.” “Maybe a banker?” “Oh, no. A man with an expression like that couldn’t have spent his life in merely turning over money ’’ “He might be an editor ” “An editor! Cutting and slashing his enemies at every turn, and even his friends occasionally, for the sake of a smart paragraph? You can’t read faces. That man’s a philanthropist, or engaged In some sort of public-spirited work. Why, there isn’t a line that doesn't indicate strength of purpose and nobility. Look at that curve there on the left!” At the next station an old countryman took his seat beside the man with massive brow and soon entered into a conversation with him, in the course of which he asked the latter “what wag his line.” The two opposite held their breath in the Intensity of their interest. “Oh, I’ve got a little tavern and butcher-shop back In the country a bit,” was the proud reply. “My wife tends to tha. meals, and I do my own killing.”

Or Scrambled It.

Shirts —of.the “boiled” variety—are often very refractory, and it takes more than courage and patience to put one on. Mr. Jones, one evening, struggling into his, which was fresh from the laundry, remarked to Mrs. Jones that it was a foolish custom, this wearing of stiff shirts. A writer in Tit-Bits tells the story. “We’ve got plenty of time, dear," said his wife. “I guess the only trouble is that the girl boiled ft a little too long.” “Looks to me as if she had fried itj” said Mf.' Jones, as his head emerged.

> It is the Idea of poor kin that most of the longevity runs in the fmnlliea of their rich relatives.

BOOK REVIEWS

R. J. Macredy, who has written tb« volume called “Health’s Highway," fa an apostle of the open air life and a fine example of the benefits to be derived from it. He camps out at night all the year around and spends a large portion of his time in the cycle saddle or a£ the wheel pf a motor car touring through the most beautiful parts of Ireland. As" a result of many close observations of the effects of rational physical training and simple, well chosen foods, he has published a hook on the subject.

Dr. S. Weir Mitchell in an unusually frank preface to/ his latest volume of poems, "The Comfort of tha says: “In the year 1882 I printed the first of six small volumes of verse. The editions of each were limited to 200 or 300 copies, with an average sale of sale of about fifty copies. Having generously given away the rest I am amused to find these volumes are now sought for by the collector of first editions and are occasionally bringing absurd prices. This present collection is the only one I have not paid for outright and is a venture of my publishers, which speaks well for their courage.”

“Simon the Jester,” William J. Locke’s new hovel, has for its central figure one Simon de Gex, M. P., who having met life witty a happy and serene philosophy is suddenly called upon to face death. With reckless and careless gaiety he Jests at death until he discovers that destiny is a greater jester than he. The heroine of the story Is Lola Brandt, an ex-trainer of animals. An Important figure in the story is a dwarf. Prof. Anastasius Papadopoulos, who has a troupe of performing cats. The story is written in the quietly humorous and whimsical style which lends distinction and character to the stories of Locke, and the scenes are laid in London and in Algiers. > i i ' Hallie Ermine Rives, whose latest romance, “The Kingdom of Slender Swords,” is now among the “six best sellers,” is the wife of Post Wheeler who was second secretary to the American Embassy in Japan and quit that post to become first secretary at St. Petersburg, Mr. Wheeler was well known as an author and it will be recalled that he was Tlasot’s model for the Christ. Mrs. Wheeler uses her maiden name as a pen name. She is a Kentucky woman and a cousin of Amelie Rives Princess Troubetzkoy. This story of “The Kingdom of Slender Swords” is said to contain a slightly disguised portrait of Lafcadlo Hearn in the mysterious recluse whom she calls' Aloysius Thorn. “The Autobiography of a Clown,” soon to be published, is the true life story of Julee Tumour, head clown of the Rlngling Circus. He was bora in a circus wagon in Spain, apprenticed to a family of acrobats when he was 6 and soon afterward made his first appearance in public in London. His career spans the history of the modern circus and he has performed in nearly every civilized country. He is a member of a well-known circus family, two of his sisters being trapeze performers, while a brother is a bareback rider. Despite the fact that he is nearly 60 he is still active. The author of this true story of an interesting career is Isaac F. Marcosson.

A DISTINCT RACE SPIRIT.

la Moat Every Line of Activity the Negro Is Getting a Foothold. It Is not short of astonishing. Indeed, to discover how far the negro has been able to develop in the 40-odd years since slavery a distinct rac« spirit and position, writes Ray Stannard Baker. It is pretty well known that he has been going into business, that he is acquiring much land, that he has many professional men, that he worships in his own churches »»* has many schools which he conducts—but in other lines of activity he is also gaining a foothold. For instance, I was surprised at finding so many negro theaters in the country—theaters not only owned or operated by negoes, but presenting plays written arid acted by negroes. As another illustration, the extensive organization of negro lodges of Elks and Masons and other secret orders, many of them with clubhouses, might be mentioned. Attention might be called to the almost Innumerable Insurance societies and companies maintained by negroes, the largest of which, The True Reformers, of Richmond, has over 50,900 members, and the the growth of negro newspapers and magazines (there are now over 200 In the country), but enough has been said, perhaps, to make the point that there has been a real development of a negro spirit and self-con-sciousness. Of course signal successes loom large among the 10,000,000 of the country and yet they show the possibilities; there is the hopeful side of negro conditions in this country as well as the dark and evil aspects of which we hear all too much.

Had Shown Good Sense.

Hewitt —That rich old fool wouldn’t let me marry his daughter. JewettWell. he may be rich and old, but he's no fool.—New' York Times. - T ' ' ■ ■■■win— i i ■ ii ■— . >»-. Every man thinks that the church he is a member of does the mo3t beggVng.