Indianapolis Journal, Volume 48, Number 198, Indianapolis, Marion County, 17 July 1898 — Page 9

—Part Two-

PRICE FIVE CENTS.

Hostilities Have Abont Ceased! for the present in Cuba, but they have commenced with us. To-Morrow we will lay siepe to the fortifications of legitimate prices, and during NEXT WEEK we propose to hand over to our customers all the trophies of reduction. This will be a battle worth being in, as all who come to the front are guaranteed to win. There are prices of war for everybody who answers “here.” No improved rifles or smokeless powder needed. Bring a little money and “blow” it. You’ll find it the most powerful explosive yet invented. ....Monday....

Trophies in Silks Black Silk Grenadine, that ever popular fabric, will go out at one-half the legitimate price. Silk Grenadines, the very choicest designs in stripes HJZr and figures, sold hitherto at $1.50; trophy price... / t)C Grenadines in very pretty Brocades, -worth 85c; A 1 trophy price . 4 Z 2 C All of our $3 Grenadines, trophy price $1.48 All of our $2 Grenadines, trophy price 98c Habutai Wash Silks, 59c quality, trophy price 29c Figured Wash Silks, excellent values for 50c; trophy All our $1 twilled and jeweled Silks, when quiet ih prevails—trophy price 4VC Trophies in Waists Percale Waists, leading colors, in all sizes, always A051.48; $1.48; trophy price VoC White India Linen Waists, trimmed in embroid- (N| 'YF ery, peace value, $2.98; trophy price French Madras and Gingham Shirt Waists, good Pf value for $2.50; trophy price pl | O Silk Waists, in all colors, worth from $4.50 to $8; <£s AO Fancy Silk Waists, ultra stylish, $8 selling hith- d* A AQ erto; trophy price VO Trophies in Silk Skirts Black Figured Gros Grain Silk Wear, guaranteed, d* A AQ peace price, $8; trophy price VO Figured Mohair Skirts, the best wearing material d*| made, worth $2.25; trophy price I.^lo 50c Colored Novelty Skirts, have soid regularly for AQ$2; trophy price yOC A limited number of White Tique Skirls, reason- (£| P'P ably worth $2.50; trophy price Real Linen Underskirts, all colors; trophy price 98c Trophies in the Basement Parlor Lamps, hand painted, burnished brass stands, choice of five different styles, sold AQ hitherto at sls; trophy price p/40 Kitchen Hand Lamps, complete, regular value 25c; | J Mixing Bowls that sold for 25c, trophy price 12>£c Choice of any Grater in the house, trophy price 5c Choice of any Japanned Cuspidore in the house, trophy F price OC Brosnan Bros. 6 and 8 West Washington.

PRINTERS Are very good people. They publish any price named on clothes. For instance, good Cassimere or Cheviot Suits from one house they call cheap at $7.88, while in the same paper, but from another house, for the same suit, they say it is cheap at $6.58, and in the same paper, from still another house, they call the same cheap at $5. What expression can they give when convinced that at No. 10 West Washington street, the very same grades, in every way perfect, can be purchased at — *3.25 “THE ARCADE”

PHYSICIAN*. DR. J. A. SUTCLIFFE, SURGEON. OFFICE—9S East Market street. Hours—9 to 10 . m.; 2 to |p. ®.; Sundays excepted. Telephone. Ml W. C. T. FLETCHER, RESIDENCE—SSo North Pennsylvania street. OFFICE—3fi9 South Meridian street. Office Hours—9 to 10 a. nt.; 2 to 4 p. m. ; 7 to 9 p. m. Telephones—Office, 907; residence, 427. Dr. W. 3. Fletcher’s SANATORIUM Mental and Nervous Diseases. DR. SARAH STOCKTON, 413 NORTH DELAWARE STREET. Office Hours: 9 to 11 a. m,; 3 to 4 p. m. Tel. 1498, DR. W. H. SEATON, Gealto-Urlnary and Skin Diseases. 44 EAST OHIO STREET. DR. WILLIAM F. CLEVENGER, No. 21 East Ohio Street. THROAT. NOSE and EAR. ATTORNEY. THE NEW BANKRUPTCY LAW FRANK S. FOSTER, In charge of Bankruptcy Department. United States Clerk's Office, under act of 1567, will practice in bankruptcy matters in Federal and State Courts. 1139 and IUO Stevenson Building. Indianapolis. ABSTRACTER OF TITLES. THEODORE STEIN ABSTRACTER of TITLES k Corner Market and Pennsylvania streets. Indianispoils. Suite 229. First Office Floor. “The ■Lemcke." Telephone 1790.

THE SUNDAY JOURNAL.

Put a Coat On Put a coat of paint on your chairs before they look scuffed, scratched and worn. CAPITAL CITY Paints are the only paints to use —Manufactured Only By— Indianapolis Paint and Color Cos. —PAINT MAKERS—DEALERS IN Plate and Window Glass, PAINTERS’ SUPPLIES, *4O, 248, 344, 24 and 24S Ua*. Are. ’Phone 1770.

I Trophies in Wash Goods One thousand yards of beautiful Lawn, in times of JL _ [ peace, 7c; trophy price... L'l v > 20 distinct weaves in Lappets, Mulls, Lawns and a? 1 _ | Dimities; trophy price... U 2 v i A well-assorted line of fresh, new Wash fabrics, ante- | A _ i bellum price, 15c; trophy price 11/V 1 800 yards of Lace Striped Grenadine, in all the , delicate and desirable colorings, 20c fabrics; tro- \*y\ p [ 35 new and highly artistic patterns in French Organ- > dies. Thej'were imported in times of peace and <A _ | valued themselves at 50c; trophy price iyC ! Trophies in Suits ; Irish Linen Suits, all sizes, imported to sell at AQ $5; trophy price | Our regular $8 fine Linen Suits, trophy price.... $4.98 |An all-Wool Suit, good retailer at $7.50; trophy gg i Extra fine imported all-Wool Novelty Suits, al- d*A AQ w r ays sold at sls; trophy price J)yyO ! French Patterns in Sample Suits, $27 values, d* f A p silk lined; trophy price Trophies in Domestics \ 50 pieces of fancy Oilcloth, best 20c quality, trophy A 1 price V 2 C 1,000 extra fine Wash Rags, trophy price, each lC , 20 yards of our 7c Muslin, for 20 yards, trophy <j| qq i 100 Bedspreads, the 75c kind; trophy price.., 49c 10c India Linens, trophy price 6c ! 15c India Linen, trophy price 9c Fine all-Linen Napkins, imported to sell at $1.10; *yp trophy price f OC Bleached all-Linen Damask, any housewife would a'F consider good value at $1; trophy price OdC Brosnan Bros. 6 and 8 West Washington.

INDIANAPOLIS, SUNDAY MORNING, JULY 17, 1898-SIXTEEN PAGES.

A GIRL’S LIFE IN SPAIN. She Is Limited as to Education and Marries Very Young. Paris Letter, in Harper’s Bazar. One of my amusements in the hotel is chatting with a family of Spanish girls from San Sebastian, daughters of an American mother and a Spanish father, who was naturalized in America, then returned to his own country and died there, leaving bis girls as Spanish as possible in manners, and as American as possible in sympathies. A girl’s life in Spain, they say. Is not an enviable one, except for the fact—which might appeal to some girls—that they come out at fourteen or fifteen, or even at twelve, at w'hich age they may marry. My San Sebastian friends have a cousin who married at fourteen a boy of sixteen, and one cf their schoolmates had two children at fifteen. When I Inquired what these preternaturally young mothers might look like at forty. I was told with candor that rhey looked like old Hags. Spanish girls are all convent bred, their education consists largely of acquiring the art of embroidery, which they learn to perfection. These early marriages are seldom happy, but divorce is unheard of n Spain. Femininism, as the French understand it, is so far unknown. People unhappily married separate and live out their lives as best they can. Spain is only just beginning to admit charily the bicycle for girls and women of birth. Spanish women ride the horse a great deal and well. The bicycle appeals to them less, as they are naturally indolent. They are fond of pretty frocks, and usually dress with great taste, in spite of bright colors, which the Spanish sky seems to call for. Every woman of Spain, Spanish or American, that I have met. has a special shrine in her heart for the Queen, of whom they speak with the same adoration with which the average English woman mentions Queen Victoria or the average Dutch woman Queen Emma. My American-Spanish friends tell me she has to the most extraordinary degree the royal endowments of tact and good sense. Many of the grandees of Spain are of far older birth and family than the Austrian princess whom Alfonso XII chose to take the place of his gentle little cousin, Mercedes, after her death. Think of Mario Antoinette and the French and then of this young Austrian going to a land whose language even she had scarcely ever heard, and where she must win not only her people's but her husband’s heart, for we all remember that In the beginning all the young King's tenderness was buried in the grave of his child wife. By far the hardest part of her task lay before her then—to reconcile the various Spanish parties, to make for liberalism without alienating the reactionary party of the monarchy and to take her place as a queen without offending the pride of those haughty grandees that we know so well through our own Motley, on the lookout for the least opportunity to criticise “the Austrian.” and, above all. to be jealous of her influence over the young King. Has ever any woman in modern times more bravely and successfully accomplished a more Herculean task? Beneficial Effects of Coffee. Philadelphia Record. A woman writer who gave up coffee recently found that she was unabie to continue her writing with any success until she had resorted again to the stimulating beverage. Without it her mind was logy and heavy. The Medical Times quotes an authority on the subject of prescribing coffee as a medicine in certain states of great debility, and adds: “Tea and coffee seem to be much alike in many respects, but the latter is greatly preferable as to its sustaining power. It would be a great advantage to our working classes, and a great help toward the further development of social sobriety, if coffee were to come into greatly increased use, and if the ability to make it well could be acquired. As an example of the difference of effect of tea and coffee upon the nerves the writer notes he believes many sportsmen will confirm, that it is far better to drink coffee than tea when shooting. Tea. if strong or in any quantity, especially if the individual be not in very robust health, will induce a sort of nervousness which is very prejudicial to steady shooting. Under its influence one Is apt to shoot too quickly, whereas coffee steadies the hand and give* quiet nerves.”

BOLIVIAN BACKWOODS - > UNEXPLORED COUNTRY OP VAST RESOURCES GIVEN UP TO SAVAGES. P ♦ The Cannibals of Eastern Pern, the Savage* of the Maranon and the Indian Trlbea of Bolivia. — - PEN-PICTURES OF THE NATIVES ■ 4 THE BOLIVIAN RUBBER FORESTS AND HOW THEY ARE WORKED. ♦ The Quinine Bnsiness of Sonth America Seriously Injured by Cinchona Cultivation in India. ♦ (Copyright, ISM, by Frank G. Carpenter.) LA PAZ, Bolivia, June 17.—Bolivia is one of the least known countries of the world. Even now the geographers are disputing about its area, and the different estimates vary by more than 100,000 square miles. The information I have on the subject comes from Senor Manuel V. Ballivian, the president of the La Paz Geographical Society, and one of the best-posted men upon all such matters connected with this country. Senor Ballivian tells me that Bolivia contains more than 597,000 square miles. The same figures are given in the Statesman’s l"ear Book and in the volume on Bolivia published by the Bureau of American Republics at Washington. This is almost onesixth the size of the whole United States, including Alaska. It is equal to more than ten States as big as New York, bigger than any country of Europe, with the exception of Russia, and more than Germahy, France, Great Britain, Greece, Switzerland and Belgium combined. This vast territory has not as many people as the State of Massachusetts. I doubt if it could figure out as many as Chicago has at this writing, and the Greater New York would give at least one and a half souls to every human being now in Bolivia. The population is estimated at about 2,000,000, all told, and of these I believe that not more than half a million have white blood in them. Think of giving a territory one-sixth the size of ours and proportionately quite as rich in its natural resources to less than half the people of Philadelphia, and you have about the conditions which prevail here. The whites practically own Bolivia, and the other threefourths of the people, who are Indians, are their servants. Os course there are a few exceptions to this classification, but as a rule it will hold good. It is especially so as regards the domesticated Indians, who number much more than half of the population, and who are in many cases practically the slaves of the whites. Here at La Paz there are at least five Indians to one white, and the city is more Indian than anything eise. UNEXPLORED BOLIVIA. The richest parts of Bolivia have lot been surveyed, and there are great provinces here which are practically unexplored. There are some sections vhich are as unknown as Central Africa, and their inhabitants have as curious customs as the savages along the edges of the Sahara. There is a strip of Bolivia several hundred miles wide and about five handred miles long, lying between this plateau and the boundary of Brazil, which has resources of great w r ealth. I have met men here who have traveled overland to Paraguay and the Argentine. They tell me of vast plains upon which cattle feed in herds of thousands. They can be bought for from two to three dollars a head, for there is no means of getting them to the markets. At present Senor Ballivian tells me there is a syndicate formed in London to connect these rich grazing lands with the head of navigation of some of the Amazon branches by means of a railway which will run along the boundary between Brazil and Bolivia, but on Brazilian soil. The road will be on tho line of a concession granted to Colonel Church some years ago, and its purpose will be to carry these cheap cattle to the rubber camps of the Amazon. There are several other important projects to build railroads in Bolivia. One is to construct a line from La Paz to the Desuaguadero river. This line would be sixty-six miles long, and Senor Ballivian says it will probably be begun this summer. Another scheme is to extend the Central North Argentine Railway to Sucre. This road is now near the Bolivian border, and it would pass through a rich cattle-grazing, agricultural and mining territory, and would furnish an outlet to the Atlantic for Bolivian products. There are several other plans for railroads from the Argentine Into Bolivia, and the day will probably come when all of eastern Bolivia will be opened up to settlement. HOW THEY TRAVEL IN BOLIVIA. At present it is extremely difficult to get to any part of this country. It took me five days to come to La Paz from the coast, a distance of not more than 500 miles, and it will require at least six days of hard travel for me to reach the Pacific by the way I have planned. In coming here I had to spend two days on the railroad before I was landed on the shores of Lake Titicaca. It took another day to cross that lake, I had to wait at Chililaya a day, and the fifth day was taken up in tlje stage ride, which landed me in La Paz. In going back I shall have to take three days of hard staging from here to Oruro, and then have three days on the smallest, long, narrow gauge of the world in traveling for 609 miles over the Andes to the sea. For the same money and the same time I could comfortably cross the United States from New York to San Francisco, a distance almost five times as great. And still this is what they call easy and rapid travel here. The most of Bolivia is accessible only on mules or on foot. The American minister is arranging to pay a visit to the capital, which is at Sucre and about 400 miles from here. He will have to take mules or stage for 150 miles to the railroad, and after a short ride on the cars, will take mules again for a five days’ ride through the mountains to Sucre. I understand that a guard will be furnished him by the Bolivian government, though I should judge that the trip would be perfectly safe without it. FYom Sucre to the famous mining town of Potosi is about 100 miles by mule and bridle path, and from Oruro to Cochobamba, which is a town of 25,000, it is a three and one-half days’ ride on horseback. Nearly all of the large towns, If the halt dozen towns of. from ten to forty thousand which embrace the largest settlements of this country can be called large, are on the highlands and In the mountains, and in most cases travel must be on horse or mule back. The country hotels are more like stables than anything else, and when on an out-of-the way road it is almost impossible to buy food of the Indians or to secure quarters In their huts to spend the night. You sleep In the inns on platforms made of stone or sun-dried bricks and eat what you can get. X carry a camp bed with me, for the native

beds are lousy and dirty. Other necessities are a rubber coat, heavy boots, a vicuna rug and canned provisions. TROPICAL. BOLIVIA. This part of Bolivia through which I am traveling may be said to have a temperate climate. La Paz, in fact, is just now a little too cool for spring or fall clothing, and I have on two heavy suits of underwear and the same woolen clothes that I wear at home in December. It snowed this afternoon. Still, a week or so on horseback would take me into tropical Bolivia. The eastern part of this country is one of the richest lands of the world, and I am told that it will be the great Bolivia of the future. I have met several men who have gone from La Paz down the rivers which flow into the Amazon and by the Amazon to the Atlantia They tell me wonderful storied of rubber forests, of trees of wild cotton, of plants with fiber like silk and of vegetation which is so dense as to be almost impenetrable. They speak also of savages who are cannibals and of other tribes who go about stark naked and regard not the laws of God nor man. At Lima I met a young German explorer named Kroehle, who had spent three years in traveling about through the eastern provinces of Peru and among the Indians of the far-away branches of the Amazon. He had an excellent camera with him, and I have had the good fortune to get some prints from his negatives. The most of them I dare not publish, for the figures of both men and women are entirely nude, and the curious features of life which they show, while interesting from an ethnological standpoint are hardly fit for a family newspaper. Mr. Kroehle was many times in danger of his life. He was twice wounded with poisoned arrows, and he describes the travel through these regions as dangerous in the extreme. He was for a time among the head hunters of the River Napo in Ecuador and Peru and the first pictures ever taken of these people were made by him. One of these pictures I published in connection with my letter on Ecuador. The Napo region is full of queer people. The Indians of one tribe there wear plates of wool or metal in the lobes of their ears as big around as the bottom of the average tumbler. They have their ears pierced when they are children and at first put bits of grass and twigs in the holes to keep them open. A littls later additional twigs are inserted and the holes are gradually enlarged, -until they are as big around as a bracelet. I have seen in Burmah and in southern India natives who follow the same custom. It is not an uncommon thing in Burmah for a woman to carry a cigar made of tobacco wrapped in corn husks and as big around as a broomstick in her ear holes. These Indians go the Burmese one better, but the extra expenditure they put on their ear holes they save on their dress, for both women and men go about naked. There are other queer tribes on the Napo. The river, you know', rises in the Andes of Ecuador and flows a distance of 800 miles before it empties into the Amazon. It is navigable for 500 miles from the mouth by small steamboats. The Javary river, which flows between Brazil and Peru, is said to be 1,300 miles long, and the Ucayli, another branch of the Amazon, is of about the same length. The Upper Maranon flows through Peru, and It is navigable to Borja a distance of 2,000 miles from the Atlantic. Think of a stream running across the United States from New York to far beyond Salt Lake City, and let this be navigable for small steamers and you have an idea of the possibilities of trade on these Amazon branches. The Beni is another Amazon branch which flows through Bolivia, and the Mam ora and Guapon are other long navigable waterways. AMONG THE CANNIBALS. All of these tropical districts of Peru and Bolivia contain curious tribes. There are some cannibals among them who eat the flesh of their enemies and do not scruple to serve up baby roasts and woman stews upon occasion. Some of the pictures that Mr. Kroehle took were of the cannibal tribes. He calls them the Cachiro Indians and says they live along the River Pachitea, a branch of the Amazon. Others of the Indians of these regions use blow guns and poisoned arrows. The arrows are made of iron wood, tipped with flints, which are poisoned at the points. The guns are reeds from ten to twelve feet long. The Indians use these weapons for killing their game as well as for their wara The slightest scratch of the arrow will cause death, and, strange to say, the poison does not injure the meat of the animals killed by It. The making of this poison is kept a secret by the Indians. I am told it is made by sticking the arrows in putrified human flesh which has already been poisoned in some other way. The poison acts very quickly and causes death within a few moments. On the Pachitea there are Indians who cut their hair close and who look much like negroes, though their hair is brown. The women wear waist cloths, but their legs and the upper parts of their bodies are bare. In trading with these people it is necessary to carry a stock of goods with you. They do not use money, and all of their dealings are by trade. Not a few of them have gold to exchange for hatchets, knives and guns. They especially like American hardware. They wash the gold out of the streams and bring it to the traders in nuggets and coarse dust. They will not take coin at all w’ithout each piece has a hole in it. They use such pieces to make necklaces. It is seldom that any of these people cultivate the land. There are plenty of fruits, and things grow so easily that all that is necessary to get a crop is to stick in the seeds or plants. They burn over the ground and plant without plowing. Corn ripens at four months and onions, beans and turnips at three. In the valley of the Maranon there are plantations of sugar cane. The cane is cut when nine months old and the same stalks will produce for twelve successive years. THE RUBBER FORESTS. It is estimated that Bolivia now produces 4,000,000 pounds of rubber a year, and that the total annual product of the Amazon forests is over 45,000,000 pounds. There are rubber camps scattered ail along the branches of the Amazon, and the most of the product is shipped down that river to Para and thence to the United States or to Europe. Within the past year or so rubber has been coming into La Paz from the forests near here, and I learn that this is one of the few good businesses of Bolivia. I had a chat last night with Mr. Alberto Vierland, an Austrian, who is largely interested in Bolivian rubber and quinine plantations. In speaking of the rubber forests near here he said: “All of the best lands have been taken up. but they are in the hands of people who have not capital to develop them and are anxious to sell. The gathering of rubber is very costly. The Indians who do the work will insist on being paid in advance. The regions are always unhealthy, as rubber grows only in low, marshy soil, and the best trees are those which have their roots under water for a part of the year. The Indians are afraid of getting sick, and they demand high wages, and will stay with you only for a limited time.” “Is there much good rubber land in Bolivia?” I askid. “Yes, there is plenty of soil here that will grow the rubber tree,” said Herr Vierland, “but so far the rubber all comes from the forests. I know of only one cultivated rubber plantation In the country, and this

has about 100 trees. In the forests you often find as many as 6,000 trees to the square mile. I have seen groves of 10,000. The trees usually grow In the valleys below the eastern slopes of the Andes. They are of all sizes, from as big as your leg to the giant of the forest, 150 feet high, and so large that three men could not, by joining hands, reach around it. The tree which produces the best rubber of commerce is known as the syn.phonia elasllca. We have plenty of guttr percha trees, but these have not yet been v orked.” A CHANCE FOR CAPITALISTS. “Is there much profit In the rubber business here?*’ I asked. “Yes, there is a great deal of money to he made out of it, but only by the use of large capital. No man can do much without twenty-five or thirty thousand dollars, and he will make proportionately a great deal more if he has one hundred thousand dollars. With this amount he ought to net from 60 to 70 per cent, a year. There is no trouble for capitalists to get rubber forests. The best of thfe lands upon which such trees grow are now in the hands of Cholos, or Bolivians with Indian blood in them. They have taken up the lands of the government and have uo money to work them.” “How do you get the rubber from the trees?” “It comes out in the form of a nfllky white sap,” was the reply. “At the beginning of the dry season the trees are gashed with a chisel about an inch broad. A little tin cup is fitted to the tree under each gash and the sap oozes out and drops down into the cup. Several gashes are made in each tree. When the Indian has gashed a number of trees he stops and collects the milky sap from the cups. He pours it into a tin pail and carries it to the headquarters of the camp. He places it somewhere in the shade and then builds a fire to smoke It. This fire is made of wet wood or palm nuts, and it is so arranged as to give a dense smoke. Now the Indian takes a wooden shovel or spoon and covers it with milk. He then thrusts it Into the smoke and rapidly turns it about. As the smoke touches the rubber-milk it coagulates and turns from the color of rich cream to a light gray. He coats his shovel again and again and at last has a ball of rubber upon it. This is cut off and laid away to be shipped to the markets. A number of the balls are put into nets. These are slung on the backs of mules or donkeys and are thus taken to Chililaya, on Lake Titicaca or La Paz. We have to watch the Indians that they do not put stones or dirt into their balls of rubber to make them weigh heavier. This is the case when they are paid by the work done rather than by the day.” THE LAND OF QUININE. This is the land of quinine. The bark of the cinchona tree, from which quinine is made, is called Peruvian bark, but it would be more in accord with the facts to call it Bolivian bark. The best quinine of the world is made from the bark of trees grown in the State of La Paz, and Bolivia far exceeds Peru in the number of her quinine trees. There are millions of trees here growing on plantations set out to make money out of the. quinine market. These plantations were established when quinine was high and before some of the Bolivian trees had been taken to India and Ceylon to start plantations there. Asa result of the Indian plantations the market became overstocked, and quinine fell. The bark which, in 1882, brought here in La Paz $220 in Bolivian money a hundredweight now sells for from sl6 to $lB a hundredweight; considering the difference in the value of the Bolivian dollar by the fall of silver for about one-thirtieth what it sold for sixteen years ago. The fall of prices ruined a great many of the Bolivian capitalists. More than $3,000,000 were invested in such estates by the people of La Paz, and the foreign houses who had advanced money on them -were severely hurt. The bark at one time was so low that it did not pay to cut it and carry it to the markets, and today, while there is somewhat of a revival, the margin of profit in the business is sipall. I see loads of cinchona bark here every day. They are brought in to the exporters on little donkeys or mules, each of which carries a bundle on each side of his back of about one hundred pounds each. The most of this bark comes from wild trees which grow in the headwaters of the Beni and Madera rivers. It is carried for many miles through the forests on men’s backs, and then loaded on the donkeys which bring it to La Paz. As far I can learn, there is no money to be made in the quinine business by foreigners. Any number of good plantations can be bought. A rich planter of interior Bolivia told me to-day that he could buy me 800,000 trees if I wished them for less than 8 cents of our money a tree. These trees would be from six to ten years of age and in prime condition for cutting down for quinine. This man said that the trees would each produce at least four pounds of bark. Quinine trees are planted nine feet apart, and at five years of age an orchard is ready for the market. The trees are then chopped down and stripped of their bark. Sprouts spring up the following season from the stumps and at the end of five years there is another crop. The cinchona trees grow wild almost everywhere that the rubber tree grows. They are often very tall and have a magnificent crown of foliage, which is of such a color that the quinine hunter can pick it out a long distance in looking over the trees of a forest. FRANK G. CARPENTER. Why He Was Happy. Chicago Journal. The rest of the passengers were reading the morning news, but one man gazed with unseeing eyes out of the window and whistled softly, the tune being broken now and then by a smile that crossed his bearded lips. The young girl directly opposite thought him handsome, and ascribed his preoccuped air to romantic reasons. Ana the older woman who sat with her glanced sharply across from time to time, to see what the young man meant by rudely whistling in a public conveyance. But the looks of youth and age were alike lost on him, and after a while he turned his face toward the light, and sang with such hearty, untunefuiness that his spectacled neighbor felt bound to remonstrate. “Young man,” she said, “have you hired this car for your own use?” He stared at her blankly a minute, and then flushed to the roots of his hair. “Was—was I singing?” he asked. “You were making a horrible noise.” she replied. Then he laughed a wholesome, honest guffaw, and leaned forward confidentially. “The joke’s on me,” he said. “To tell the truth, my baby has just cut a tooth, and—and I was thinking how cunning the little chap looked when he grinned.” The war light faded in the woman's eyes and a smile touched the corners of her mouth as she beamed on the young father and said with deep interest: “Upper or under?” Jealousies of Great Hen. The Bookseller. I happened to be lunching with a former Governor of Massachusetts the other day, and he told me of a recently discovered letter of Charles Sumner, which had been hidden for thirty years among some old papers. In this letter, written toward the close of the war of the rebellion, Sumner spoke most bitterly of Lincoln’s shilly-shallying policy. We idealize great men, and forget that during their lives they were subjected to all the petty criticisms of jealousy just as we now see those in power attacked and berated. Washington no less than Lincoln had to go through this ordeal. Chancellor Kent, In his memoirs just published, sneaks thus of Sumner: M Mr. Charles Sumner dined with me and spent the evening with my son. He talked Incessantly; is inflated with exaggerated egotism; has been familiar with bench and bar of Westminster; has ridden an English circuit, and been familiar with the centrv and nobility; has seen the beet literary eharacters in France and Germany. Vienna Berlin. Brussels. Heidelberg and Italy.” ’

-=Pages 9 to 16-

trice FIVE CENTS.

THE VOICE OF THE PULPIT # A SHORT DISCOURSE ON THE GLORY OF THE COMMONPLAC E e By Che Rev. Leslie \V. Sprague, Pastor of All Souls* Intversallst Church, Grand Rapids, Mich. Except ye sec signs and wonders ye will not believe.—John iv. 48. A wicked generation socket h after-a. sign.—Matthew xvi, 4. We pray no more, made lowly wise. For miracle and sign, Anoint our eyes to see within The common the divine. Christ showed little sympathy or patience with the wonder-seeking impulse of His generation. He was more anxious that men believe Ills words than that they accept His miracles. If the Son of man come shall He find more real faith in truth on the earth today? Is not this generation ever seeking a sign also? Men have little ear for “the unsung beauty hid life’s common things below.’* They listen only for the song of great repute. Lovers ignore the fact that True love is but a humble, low-born thing. And hath its food served up in earthenware ; A thing to walk with, hand in hand. Through the every-dayness of this workday world. And, turning away from the simple loves that would make our earth an Eden, they seek amid strange environment the excitement and frenzy which makes love seem a miracle. This craving for the new and strange is universal. The boy prefers the animals of the menagerie to those of his own yard. The woman wants fabric of foreign make and stamp. Travelers go abroad before they have seen the beauties of their own land. Carlyle enunciates the great fact that the most startling scene in the world, seen twice, becomes familiar and common to the ordinary mind. The meaning of life’s greatest experiences is exhausted sooner than a child tires of its new toy. First experiences, however pleasurable, become commonplace upon a few repetitions. And, confessedly, there is decided advantage in this eagerness for the unusual—without it there were less progress In the world. It saves man from indifference and apathy. It is a mighty counteraction of the conservative, centripetal forces in human lives. But, taught by the beauty of the uncommon, man should learn to behold the equal beauty of the commonplace. Seeking the strange and wonderful, the true and beautiful are often overlooked. The divine has been lost in commonplace only through familiarity. Even those things which through routine have become distasteful were once of greatest joy. Hbusekeeping is a tiresome round of care to weary womanhood. But, tired woman, think of the first time you stood by your own fireside or sat at the first seifgotten feast by the board of lova, Theii angels seemed to hover in the room and voices celestial were singing in your heart. “The dull and weary round of care” which the business man finds in his vocation was not apparent on that Mayday when the boy left school and with bounding heart went to the office, seeking work and destiny. “Familiarity breeds contempt” only because it closes man’s eyes to the beauties of the common scene and seals his heart to the common joys. DELIGHTFUL EXPERIENCES. O that those sensations, those fond raptures of young experience* might last, that the vistas opening before anew impulse, the gladness accompanying anew endeavor, the hope and fervor of anew determination might go with all men through life! If some myth-god were to assure me of the realization of my choice of heaven, I would not ask for wealth, or golden streets, or any of those things for which men usually pray; I would say: Make permanent the sensations of fresh experience, give me continually the joy of the first kiss of fresh young love, the satisfaction of the first home, the gladness of the first Journey into the world, the enthusiasm of the first real deed, the delight of the first great thought. All other dreams, once realized, grow wearisome, but herein there could be no weariness. We need to bear in mind how futile life would be if we went though it, touching but once each door-latch, seeing but once each sight, and clasping but once each loving hand. The very order and fullness of life demands familiarity. Accomplishment necessitates commonplaceness. He who would really achieve must do and do and do again, ever the same small task. Since, then, the common, is Inevitable, let the divine be sought in it. This may the more naturally and readily be done if note three practical facts: 1. The freshness of first experience may be kept. There is something wrong when familiarity breeds contempt. The secret of the joy of new experience Is that the heart comes to it with a fresh expectancy. The divine is anticipated, therefore seen. The home becomes more and more sacred with its new loves and ever deepening sorrows. Shallow hearts alone are unmindful of the deepening stream of grace. Opportunities for energy and zeal have not vanished from the shop or store; only enthusiasm Is lacking In the heart of the keeper of the shop and store. It is not life, but human feelings that grow stale and cease to please. No fairy god can give life constant freshness; but wise Interest, worthy purpose, unselfish motive and a pure heart will perpetuate the Joy of any day of spring throughout life’s changing year. IT IS SACRED. 2. The mind need not seek far to find that the commonplace ih realty very sacred. However restless our hearts, their truest Joy is that with every returning spring and every recurring experience "the same dear things lift up the same fair faces.” The vines of affection cling to the commonplace. The exceptional dazzles, but the accustomed deeply moves. Rarity attracts, but the ordinary sustains. The voice of a Batti thrills, but the homely lullaby stays and satisfies the heart; the old, old ballads of simple daily life, sung from the common experience of a common singer, send me* to solemn chambers of sorrow, and to the watch towers of hope, as the divinity artists can do only by reinforcing the power of their art by the force of the beloved commonplace. A wanderer from home, pleasure dazzles hi vain, O give me my lowly thatched cottag® again. Our heaven—and there is a good deal of it in each and about all—our heaven is right here In the commonplace. Men make unusual effort to see a king, and feel honored by a handshake from the President; they Journey far to see monuments of history and the strange grandeurs of to-day; but their own home porch Is more sacred to them than any in Italy, the little mound ill the churchyard more consecrated than the Alps, unadorned home faces have richer smiles than sovereigns, and the friends who talk over the garden gate give sweeter converse than the lions of society. The commonplace is the divine, and human affections give the lie to the wonder-seeking pas. si one of all men. I The commonplace la always the more