Jasper County Democrat, Volume 1, Number 20, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 27 August 1898 — Page 6

CHAPTER I.

"Look at mo,” Raid n clour, s#Pot voice, with something both of laughter and tears in it; “look at me, Vivian. How can 1 ever be a groat lady? Nature never intended mo for one.” n “Nature has made you u queen by right of divine grace and beauty,” war the earnest reply, “and Nature, Violaute, is a lady who never makes mistakes.” “But,” cried the rich voice agaiu. “a lady, Vivian, to have a title to ray name, to live at a grand cnstle, to have servants* and carriages, jewels, and all kinds of grandeur! Why, Virion, 1 should not even know myself.” “But I should know you, and that is more to the purpose,” he replied, “Better any pain now,” she said, “than that hereafter you should repent; and, Vivian, we are so far apart, our lives have been so different. You would repent,. I am sure.” “We are not far apart,” he replied, hastily. “If you mean by that that I have thousands a year and your father one hundred, I maintain that you are quite wrong. Your father is a gentleman, a scholar, and a man of honor. What am 1 more—even if I have so much?” She made the most charming little courtesy, full of raock deference and winning grace. “You, monsignor," she interrupted, “are Iyord Vivian Selwyn, of Selwyn Castle, Knight of the Order of the Garter, Baron of Hulstone in Yorkshire, and of Crnighley in Scotland. You see, 1 know your name and titles by heart.” He smiled amusedly. ' “Never mind my titles,” he said. “You are the daughter of a gentleman; you are a lady by instinct, by nature, by training, by education, in manner, in thought, word and deed. What can 1 desire more?” There was still some hesitation in her lovely face. “Violaute,” he whispered, “do you see how the flowers bloom, and how their leuves send out fragrant messages to their ardent lover—the sun? Do you hear how, the birds sing? Do you hear the wind whispering among the trees? Shall flowers and birds and trees be more happy than I?” For tile first time she turned and looked at him, her beautiful eyes met his, and rested in them. In that quiet, serene glance, the destiny of their lives was settled. The world is full of beautiful pictures. Some hang on the walls of grand old galleries; some on the walls of palaces whose very names are redolent of fine art; some brighten humbler homes; some iire placed in old cathedral aisles—-over the altars of churches; some have never been framed or painted, save by the hand of the Great Creator—pictures whose beauty makes earth so fair; pictures of white, fleecy clouds sailing over a blue sky; of golden sunshine falling in soft rays; of pale, pure stars, making more solemn the solemn night-tide; such pictures as touch men’s hearts with a sense of the Sublime, bringing deep, holy rapture into the soul, and tears of earnest gratitude to eyes long dry.

And surely the fairest, the sweetest, the purest picture of all was this one upon which the sun shone like a smile from heaven. The picture of a long green lane where the grass grew soft and thick, where the hanks presented one muss of bloom, and the hedges were white with hawthorn—a green, shady, fragrant lane, such as onc> only sees in Old England. There was the (juaint, picturesque town of Woodeaves lying in the Leicestershire hills, half buried in green foliage, surrounded by thick woods, by rich green clover meadows, by golden cornfields, Infertile pasture lands, flowery gardens and fruit-laden orchards, stretching out to the purple hills ns to an unknown land. There was a grand old church whose spire pointed like a slender hand to heaven. It was covered with Ivy, and inclosed by tall oak trees, under whose shade the dead slept so quietly and so well. The houses were pretty and stood embowered in trees. That was the picture one saw from between the trees; and then, turning to the stile ut the end of the lane, there was another picture even fairer still. Behind a rluster of golden laburnums and purple lilacs, there stood a picturesque, gray old house, brightened by scarlet creepers, by purple wisteria, and climbing woodbines; a house with large, bright windows, framed in trailing flowers and roses of white and red, with quaint old gable ends and deep, overhanging eaves, where birds built their nests und sparrows chirped. A house that stood in a most bewildering garden— not square and trim and laid out as the Dutch like to see—but full of nooks and corners; full of trees, whose roots were hidden in great masses of mignonette and clove carnations: full of old-fashioued flowers such as poets loved loug years ago—sweet peas and sweetwilliams, southernwood and pansies, lilies and roses. Every path had a Charm of Us own, leading either to fragrant rosebushes or beds of white lilies or plots of rope-red strawberries or raspberries running wild. At the end of the garden stood the prety rustic old stile; golden laburnums drooped over it, and tall lilacs stood proudly near; and here the sunbeams fell as though they loved to linger, for they brightened the fair head of one of the fairest girls who ever looked up to the summer skies. She, Violante Temple, stood by the stile, with the laburnums drooping over her. Her lover bad pushed aside the houghs, and they made a frame for her lovely, piquant face. lie was bending over her, watching the play of her beautiful lips, drinking in the ever-changing beauty of her eyes, - She was a fair trteture. No artist ever painted, no poet ever sung of a fairer. She could not have been more than seventeen. Her girlish, slender figure was full of pace, every movement full of harmony. It was of exquisite proportions, with slopieg shoulders, and a carriage. fuji of easy dignity. She embodied the very poetry of motion, so full of unstudied elegance. Mo wonder the sunbeams lingered on

A WOMANS ERROR

By Marion V.Hollis.

CHAPTER 11.

The lover who pleaded so earnestly with her wns some years older thun Violante. As Lord Vivian Selwyn stands there, one’s eyes rest on him in admiration. He presents a marked contrast to the young girl by his side; she is fair and graceful, he dark and stately; she is winsome and sweet, he has all the dignity of a grand old race; her face is gentle and flowerlike, his descended from crusaders and cavaliers, brave and noble; she is delicate and fragile, he strong, with a martial air that agrees well with his broad shoulders, his open chest and magnificently developed limbs. He had wooed her with such loving, tender words, she had no power to resist. “Last night" it was true he had taken her by surprise, and she had confessed she loved him, but for long hours afterward she hud been busy thinking; prudence nnd common sense told her the difference between them in rank, position and station in life was too great, nnd that she had better fly in time from the dazzling dream. All day the lovely young face had worn a grave, serious expression, and the dark eyes had been shadowed with care. How could she, Violaute Temple, the daughter of n country lawyer, whose only boast was a good and honored life —how could she take the place of Lady Selwyn, of Selwyn Castle? So she had spent the day in-shaping great resolves. She would see him once more, nnd tell him it could never be —that he had better go and leave her; for it could not end happily, her own instinct told her so. All day the sweet, flowerlike face hnd been shadowed with these thoughts, nnd in the light, sunshiny afternoon she had gone to her favorite nook, the stile in the lane, to sit there and shape her thoughts into words, when a hand, whose clasp she knew well, touched hers, and the voice she loved best said: “Violante, I have been looking everywhere for you. I have come to ask you if you meant what you said last night, and if you are willing to be my wife?” And before she knew whut to reply he had raised her from the moss-covered stone on which she sat, and they were standing under the delicate, drooping, golden laburnums. “I meant what I said,” she replied, shyly; “but I can never be your wife.” Then in good order as she remembered them she made use of all those sensible arguments which made him so impatient. “I inn twenty-five years old,” he said, smilingly. “I am my own master; lam rich and prosperous, and I love only one woman in the world. Yet you tell me I cunnot have her for my wife. If she is to ho won by prayers and by love, she shall be mine, Violante; for life will be all blank to me without her.” One by one he vanquished all her arguments, and at last, with her hands clasped in his, she had promised to be his wife, —to love him, to be true to him, to care for him, nnd him alone, until she died. “What will my father say?” cried the girl suddenly. “He has not the faintest idea, Vivian, that you have spent these summer weeks in fulling in love with me.” “He will be very pleased, and will say I have spent my time well,” was the smiling reply. “He will never believe I am old enough to be married,” she cried, with a low, delicious laugh, sweet as the chime of bells. When Mr. Temple returned that evening to Oakside he was surprised at the merry voices and happy faces awaiting him.

His daughter—his little Violnnte— to be married! His little girl, who had made his tea, mended his socks and attended to his comforts, to become Lady Sehvyn of Selwyn Castle, one of the grandest ladies in the land! “You have no objection?*’ said Lord Vivian to Mr. Temple; “’you are willing to give Violante to iue?” “I am simply bewildered,” was the truthful reply. “I do not know whether to be angry and refuse you—to tell you such nonsense must be forgotten—or whether I ought to give you both my blessing. lam bewildered, as I have never been in life before.” “Take some time to consider, sir,” replied the young lover; “I shall be at YVoodeaves ten days longer,” That night, while his daughter's golden head lay at rest, and her fair face smiled IH'aeefully, Horace Temple sat up to think, and consider what it would be beat to do. He himself had married young; he did not remember whether he had been very passionately in love with his own wife or not, but he had made his wife very happy, he had provided for all her wants; she had lived a commonplace, happy life in the pretty home at Oakside. Two children were born to them there; Bertie, and four years afterward, Vlhlante, a lovely, dark-eyed, fair-haired daughter. Then, quietly and gently as she had livedi Mrs. Temple faded away and died, not of any acute or painful disease, but of slow, lingering decline. She faded out of life as the colors die out of the western sky; dying so gently that those who

watched her did not know when sleep ended and death came. Her death certainly roused Horace Temple; it roused him into greater tenderness for bis children. Before that ho had been contented to see them morning nnd night, then leave them to their mother’B care, now he tried his best to be father and mother both. Violante was easily managed; she had lessons at home, superintended by him, and the result was the strangest education a young lady ever received. She learned Latin: she was well versed in the English classics; the history, the literature of her own country, were all familiar to her; she could draw with exquisite skill; she sang nothing but old English buflads, but those she sang with the purest, sweetest voice, with a wondrous power of expression that completely charmed all who heard her. The boy Bertie fared better than his sister; his vocation, even in early life, Wns settled. He would be nothing but a soldier. In vnin Horace Temple painted the delights of the law, the church, ths| civil professions; he would have none of them. To liis same regiment belonged Captain Vivian Selwyn, the nephew.* and heir of Lord Huldibrand Selwyn of Selwyn Castle, a brave, noble, generous young officer, perhaps better liked than any in the service; a man beloved by all, by comrades and men; a man whose heart and hand were ever open to help, to relieve, and to assist. The fair-hnired young ensign looked up to Captain Selwyn with something like adoration; he thought him the grandest man, and the greatest hero the world ever saw. He was happy for days if the captain spent ten minutes in talking to him. The time came when the “Queen’s Own” wei* l ordered off to India, and Horace Temple bade his only son farewell. The quiet, reserved, solitary man never knew until that moment how dear his children were to him —he had not realized it. There was a rebellion among the native troops, and the “Queen’s Own" were ordered off to quell it. It so happened that the commanding officer, Major Threlton, wanted to send some important papers to Madras. They were papers that had been taken from an Indian chief mnde captive, and related to a conspiracy spread far and wide among the native troops. /

It was the youngest of them all who offered to go—Ensign Temple. They called him Bertie and Beauty among themselves, because of his fair, boyish face and golden curls. But there was not one among them whose heart did not boa# faster when the young hero stood up and asked if the dangerous duty might bo his. They gave him the papers, and ho went out; four soldiers went with him. They rode out of camp one morning while the haze of heat covered the sky like a thick, coppery mist, and never a one returned. They were half way to their journey's end when they met the detachment of natives sent out by the rebels to waylay them and regain the papers. Ensign Temple, with a deep saber cut on his brow, with innumerable wounds on his chest, his neck and arms, managed to escape. He rode into the camp, and lived long enough to redeem his promise to place in the hands of Gen. Vinny the dispatches intrusted to him, none the less precious that they were bathed in his blood. it was night when he arrived, and the general was surrounded by his staff. They were grim old warriors, most of them; but to this day they tell with trembling lips of the bright-haired boy who rode so suddenly into the camp, streaming with blood, with death in his brave young face. They tell how he placed the papers in the general's hand, and fell at his feet, saying with the smile of a child: “You will tel) them at home that I did my duty.” There was a Btir among them. Dark, bronzed faces grew pale and quivered as they rnised the boy and carried him away to die; But there was one happiness in store for him. News reached Major Threlton that the young ensign and his little troop hnd been waylaid. Captain Selwyn, with a small body of men, was sent after him at once, and the captain was just in time to see the young hero die. They had laid him under the shade of a large palm tree. The evening sun had set, and as though in mercy to him, a cool, calm breeze had risen. "Ah, captain!” said the boy; "I longed to see your fare and touch your hand once more. You have always been my hero, and I have loved you so well. You will go back to England some day; promise me that you will go and see my father, that you will say with my last breath I sent him my love; tell my sister Violante I thought of her as I lay dying, with infinite love, and tell them for me that i died a soldier's death, doing my duty as soldiers do. I told my father I might live to be a general, but my laurels are few, and I have gathered them young. Captain Selwyn, I am not afraid of death, but will you let me hold your hand while I die?” And Captain Vivian Selwyn—used as he was to sickness, to wounds, and death —felt bis face grow white and his lips quiver, as he stood by and watched the young soldier die. Tears filled his eyes as he noted the deep crimson wound on the fair young brow. “Heaven bless him,” he said with reverent lips. “England may well be proud of her soldier sons, when they live and die like him.” __ With his own hands lie cut off two of the golden curls, resolving to keep them until he returned home, and then to take one to his sister, and one to the father of the young hero whom they were never more to see.

Captain Vivian Selwyn redeemed his promise. That was how he came to meet Violante. He lingered"on at Woodeaves, trying all in his power to win the love of that pure young heart: he succeeded at last; the time came when he could keep his secret no longer, and one evening, when Mr. Temple had been obliged to return to his office for papers, nnd the two were alone, he surprised her into confessing that she, too, loved him. t "Against my better judgment.” she said with a saucy, bewitching smile, “but I cannot help it.” After two days of deep thought and consideration, Horace Temple, bewildered as ever, gave his consent; and the marriage of Lord Vivian Selwyn and Violante was arranged to take place in September. (To be continued.)

The tallest man is Missouri is Ai. G. Waite, of YVaveriy. He is 6 feet 8 inches out of his boots. He is one of a family of tan, the tallest of whom was 7 feet 8 Inches. His smallest sister is 6 feet 8 inches tall. The Waites are relatives of the late Chief Justice Waite.

TOPIC FOR FRAMERS

A DEPARTMENT PREPARED FOR OUR RURAL FRIENDS. Why Beet Sager Production Tm Need-ed-Conservatism Among Farmers that Does Not Bu-How to Prevent Hillsides Washing—Notes on Bees. Need of Beet Sngar Production. We have a home market for sugar which will consume the product of at least 1.200,000 acres. The per capita consumption of sugar is rapidly Increasing which, with the great Increase In population, creates and Insures a constantly increasing demand. The production of sugar beets at a profit’ In this country has been clearly demonstrated and lias therefore ceased to be an experiment. The culture of the sugar beet, when understood, Is simple, and does not require skilled labor. Beets can be sent direct from the harvest field to the factory without further preparation or storage. The culture of the sugar beet does not require any considerable Investment of capital by Dm grower. The implements required for the production of sugar beets are simple and Inexpensive as compared to those required for the production of wheat. Soil upon which beets have been successfully raised Is left In prime condition for other crops. There is a,very large area of comparatively low priced lands upon which sugar beets can be successfully raised. The profit to tlie grower Is greater than the average of other crops. Four months after the crop is planted it can be harvested and at once converted Into money.—Exchange.

Does Not Pay.

Farmers are conservative, but* too much so at times. They have as persistently objected to improved stock and newer varieties of vegetables as the mechanics have in their opposition to labor-saving machinery. But few enterprising farmers in a community have been encouraged by their neighbors in tlioir efforts to introduce better stock and better methods of farming. There are thousands of farmers who consider cows that average two pounds of butter a week as good animals, although there are farmers who have herds in which each individual will average from eight, to ten pounds of butter per week. Some farmers are progressive, and quickly fall Into line In the work of improvement, yet there Is not a county in the United States lacking in those farmers who still refuse to believe that one breed is Joetter than another, or that the scrub is not fully as good as the pure bred anmal. Until the farmer accepts conditions as they exist and realizes that the strongest competitor against him is the farmer with better stock, he will not be able to make farming pay. This is a progressive age, and farmers must be alive to all the advantages that will assist them In securing larger profits. •&

Handling Bees. When handling bees the absence of fear and quiet treatment are essential to success. Never strike at a bee. Never move a comb hastily, nor hold a new comb horizontally; If yon do it will probably break and fall. Blow' a little smoke Into the entrance; after a minute or so (while the bees are gorging themselves with honey and so lessening their inclination to sting), take off the top and blow a little into the hive at each end. Lift the quilt gently and opening part only of the hive; the carbolic cloth Is very useful on the top besides a little smoke below\ Never open a hive in cold or rainy weather. In cold districts, before winter, makp the bees snug with quilts and adjustment of the dividing boards. Don’t breathe on the bees, or brush the combs upwards. If stung when manipulating, pull out the sting and put a little honey on the wound. If you have no real Mdng for the bees, do not attempt to keep them for profit Bees are the most pesky things about a farm; and although they do not involve laborious work they demand peculiar attention. Do not keep many bees In places where they must depend mainly on orchard trees and garden flowers for food supplies. If you are nervous, or If you have not plenty of native flora to hand, do not handle bees at all.

The Horae’s Power of Scent. There is one perception which a horse possesses to which little attention. has been paid, says a prominent horseman, and that is the power of scent. With some horses It is acute, as with the dog, aud for the benefit of-those who drive at night, such as physicians and others, tills knowledge is invaluable. 1 never knew it to fail, and I have ridden hundreds of miles of dark nights, and in consideration of this power of scent this is my simple advice: Never check yous horse at night, but give him a free head, and you may rest assured that he will never get ofT the road, and he will carry you safely and expeditiously. In regard to the power of scent In a horse, I once knew one of a pair that was stolen and recovered mainly by the track being made out by his mate, and that after he had been absent six or eight hours. Tomato Diseases A disease that attacks the tomato, egg plant and potato is indicated by a sudden wilting of the foliage, which may occur op a single shoot or the whole plant may be affected, and usually destroys the plant It progresses more rapidly in young than in old plants; and especially In very warm weather. The woody tissue turns black

or brown, and with potatoes the. tnbel Is also attacked, a dark ring being very conspicuous in a section of the tnber. An offensive soft rot follows the dark discoloration] The disease can be easily spread by potato beetles, which attack also tomato and egg plants. The remedy is to destroy the beetles as rapidly as they appear and burfi all tops, using new ground every year if possible. ' Currant Bashes In Tree Form. It is much easier to care for a currant plantation if the bushes are grown singly tn tree form, instead of growing in clomps, as they usually are. But’ to do this successfully, the currant budb should be grown from a single eye cutting, which is usually done with bottom heat Usually, in setting a cutting or making a layer, a number of buds are buried under the soil. Each of these makes its independent growth and is really a separate plant. When bushes come up around a currant tree, the owner should dig down to the parent root and take up all of that which belongs to the cutting. It is best only to leave a clump of roots at the base of the cutting. Trying to get more roots than belong to plants is the main reason why they sucker so much as they do. The Improvement of Stock. It is estimated that the number of cows in the United States used for producing milk from which butter is made reaches 11,000,000, and that the average amount of butter per cow is 125 pounds for one year, making a total of 1,375,000,000 pounds of butter. Estimating at 125 pounds per cow shows that the average is low. The cows can donble their average if “breed and feed” are made to enter more largely into dairying." There are cows used solely for supplying cheese factories, and also milk for immediate consumption, the item of butter only being taken to point out the enormous value of cows on the farms and their usefulness to farmers.

Feed for Toang Pigs. The growth of a young animal 1* the main factor in the increase of its weight, and when the food is both nitrogenous and carbonaceous there is a greater gain than when the food is mostly carbonaceous, as when corn alone Is used. At the Alabama experiment station pigs pastured on nearly matured oow peas, and supplied with corn, made almost three times the gain In live weight made by similar pigs fed exclusively on corn, rigs also gained more rapidly on ground cow peas and corn than on corn alone. In effect 5.28 pounds of the mixed food was equal to 8.00 pounds of ground corn. One pound of corn meal, however, proved superior to three pounds of sweet potatoes. Paris Oreen for Squash Borers. One of the worst pests of the garden is the squash or cucumber stalk borer. All its operations are confined to a part of the main stem near the root. Once Inside the stalk the borer is safe from any out\vard application. But if his presence Is seen quickly enough, the borer may be dug out with a knife and the plant will be saved. If a strong of parls green in water Is spread over the squash or other vine stem for two or three feet from its roots, the parent fly will lay her eggs as usual, and when these hatch out, as they do In two or three days, when the young borer begins eating his way Into the stalk, his first mouthful will be his last.

Catting Grass Closely. With the very sharpest scythe, It Is possible on land free from stones to ent grass closer to the ground than a mowing machine can be run. But the average machine-cut meadow will be cut more closely than It is likely to be cut by hand. This is often a matter of much Importance, as grass grows much more heavily close to the ground, and an inch lower In cutting makes often a difference of two or three hundred pounds of hay. When clover Is beaten down by rains, the difference between low and high cutting Is often much more than this. Growing Cucumbers for Pickles. When growing cucumbers for pickles It Is necessary to pick off the cucumbers before they exceed two Inches In length. Should the vines be permitted to fulfill their mission—growing seed—they will cease to be productive, hence not a single cucumber on a .vine should be allowed to mature. As long as the small cucumbers are picked off it will increase the numbers, as the vine will continue to supply others in their place in the effort to mature them. A few vines well managed will produce a large number of cucumbers of pickling size.

Bopy Milk. Ropy milk is caused by a bacteria, but it is not yet known how this bacteria gets into the milk unless It is from the body of the cow. Wash the udder, teats and body of the cow before milking; also, see that the vessel and hands of the milker are clean. The animal heat in the milk should be removed as soon as possible by passing the milk over a cold surface or through a pipe surrounded by ice.—American Agriculturist. To Prevent Hillaile Wash ins;. A very serious mistake which I made when I began to farm was in running the rows up and down the slopes on rolling land. When heavy rains fell the water would follow the rows, washing away the soil and damaging both land and crop. For the last three years I have run my rows on a level, and my land bfis improved as rapidly as it went down under the old straight row system.—Practical Farmer. Hock Elm a Valuable Wood. There la a good demand for rock elm In Great Britain, where It is put to various uses and brings high prices. Doubtless many farmers who have woodland can find specimens of this tree on their premises wbieh would glvs them a handsome profit If cut and sold.

PYTHIANS IN OAMP.

Every Grand Lodge in the World Officially Represented at Indianapolis. The biennial meeting of the supreme lodge, Knights of Pythias, began Tuesday morning in Indianapolis, with every part of the world, where there is a grand lodge, represented. The national encampment of the Uniform Rank was formally opened Tuesday afternoon and nearly 13,000 uniformed men were in camp. The supreme temple, Rathbone Sisters, opened Wednesday morning, with an attendance * greater than ever, before. The imperial palace, Knights of Khorassan, began Monday morning nnd lasted four days. The supreme lodge, Pythian Sisterhood, opened Tuesday morning. People flocked in from all parts of the country, the trains were loaded with passengers and all of the sixteen roads entering the city had numerous extra and special trains. At 3 o’clock Monday afternoon it wasj estimated that there were 35,000 strangers in the city and more than half a» many more came Tuesday. The streets were thronged with men in uniform. Cainp Colgrove, with its 5,000 tents, was, a grait attraction. A reception was givem at the Denison by the grand lodge offi-| cers, which was open to all knights and; their ladies. Tuesday afternoon the big, purade took place. The libera] prizes offered to companies and to lodges caused a large attendance of subordinate lodges as well as of members of the Uniform Rank, nnd the encampment ranks among the largest in the, history of the order. The representation' in camp by States is in part as follows: Indiana 2,250 West Virginia .. 500 Kansas 200 Coanectlcut 200 lowa 125 Minnesota 300 Kentucky ...... 400 New Hampshire. 150' Illinois 2,000 Massachusetts .. 300 Missouri 200 Michigan 500 Tennessee 100 Ohio 2.500 Wisconsin 150 New York 100 Virginia 300 Florida 100, Pennsylvania . ,1,000 Arkansas ....... 100 Washingt'n.D.C. 75

WHERE OUR MONEY GOES.

Statement of the Appropriation* of Last Session of Congress. The volume of appropriations, new offices, etc., required by law to be prepared, at the end of each session of Congress un-j der the direction of the committees on appropriations of the Senate and House ofi Representatives has been completed for| the second session of the LVth Congress.) A summary of the appropriations shows the grand total to be $£93,231,015. The details by bills are as follows; Agriculture f3.5W.202 Army 23.103,332, Diplomatic 1,752.208 District of Columbia 0.420,880 Fortifications 0.377,401 Indian 7,073,85# Legislative 21,025,840| Military academy 458,080 Naval..., 56.095.753 Pension 141,233,830! Postofflce 09,222,300 Sundry civil 48,490,2114 Deficiencies, Including various war appropriations for fiscal year 1808 and continuing to Dec, 31 next 340,772.380 Miscellaneous appropriations.... 6.500,311 Permanent appropriations 117,830,220 Grand total of appropriations. ,$593.231,615 Of this amount $301,859,927.20 is ta meet expenses on account of the war with! Spain. In addition to the specific appropriations mnde contracts are authorized to be entered into for the construction ofi new battleships and other naval vessels, five new dry docks and various other pub-! lie works, requiring future appropriations! by Congress to the amount of $24,173,050. A comparison of the total appropriations) for 1899, excluding the war appropria-i tions for 1898, shows an increase for 1899* of $2,030,608.

TRADE WITH CHINA INCREASING,

Cheapness of American Goods Makes! Them Popular. The success of the United States in the invasion of the markets of China is illustrated by figures just prepared by the bureau of statistics showing that our exports to that market of late have increased much more rapidly than those of Other Countries, and that the heavy falling off in imports of certajn lines of goods into China in the last year has not been so seriously felt by the United States as by other nations with which we come in competition. The steady gain which the United States is making in its effort to obtain a share of the market which China affords is shown by the following comparison of our imports into "China and Hong Kong, from 1890 to 1897, inclusive, with those of Great Britain during «**e same period: United United States. Kingdom. 1800 .$7,385,302 £9,137.104 1891 13,460,705 8,087,021 1802.. . 10.557.546 7.581.906 law 8.117,059 0.446.943 1894 ..10.071.273 6,262,810 1895 7,860,880 7,106,645 1896 11,613,134 8.530,300 1897 17,984,472 7,117,716

HAWAII NOW IN THE UNION.

Ceremonies Attending Formal Annexation Took Place Aug, 12. The Hawaiian Islands were formally gathered into the American Union on Aug, 12, at 11:52 a. m., when the native flag descended from the flagstaff’s on all the Government buildings and the Stars and Stripes took Its place. The military and naval display was excellent. As soon ns President Dole and his cabinet came from the executive building to the platform the justices of the Supreme Court followed, and then Admiral J. N. Miller and United States Minister Harold Bewail came Mown steps, followed by Capts. C. 11. YY’adleigh of the Philadelphia and S. M. Book of the Mohican and their staff officers and Col. Vixrber of the First New York regiment. The ceremonies opened with prayer. United States Minister Sewall then arose and, addressing who had arisen, presented him with a certified copy of the joint resolution of Congress annexing the Hawaiian Islands to the United States. President Dole answered acknowledging the making of a treaty of political union and formally yielded to Minister Sewall as the representative of the Government of the United States the sovereignty and public property of the Hawaiian Islands. Minister Sewall then read a proclamation snying that President McKinley directed that the civil, judicial and military powers of the Government should continue to be exercised by the officers of the republic of Hawaii. All such officers, he said, would be required to take an oath of allegiance to the United States and renew their bonds to the United States Government. A ball at the executive building, at which 2.000 guests were present, was the culmination of the day's festivities, which followed the ceremony of the Hug rststac-