Ligonier Banner., Volume 25, Number 48, Ligonier, Noble County, 12 March 1891 — Page 3

~ MR. WAYT’S ° WIFE’S SISTER. By MARION HARLAND. - [copyriGHT, 1500.] ‘ CHAPTER VI.—CONTINUED. .The main body of the audience could . mot withdraw their eyes from the mnarrator of the telling anecdote of the drummer-boy of Gettysburg. The sto‘ry was new tc all there, although he had assumed their familiarity with it. - It was graphic; it was pathetic to heartbreak; it thrilled and glowed and corruscated with self-devotion and patriotism; it Q{Vas an inimitable illustration # . of the point just made by the orator who was carried clear out of himself by the theme. And not one person- there —not even March Gilehrist, fiercely distrustful of the man and all his works—suspected that it was an original incident. home-grown, homespun and home- . woven. Write it not down as a sin | against the popular pastor of the Fairhill First Church that the Gettysburg hero was a twenty-four-year-old child of the speaker’s brain. If the will of the Press, and the foundry of Tradition can not turn out illustrations numerous and pat enough to suit every subject and time, private enterprise mustsupply personal demand. _ , “l 1 think young Gilchrist was ill in . church to-day,” observed Mr. Wayt to his wife that afternoon, as she fed him . with the dainty repast he could not go . tothe table to eat. - He lay on the settee in the wide, cool -, Ball, supported by linen covered cush‘ions. She had brought him, as a per- » suasive first course, a, cup of delicious : bouillon, jce-cold, and administered it . to him, spoonful by spoonful. ; “He changed color, and seemed to be in great pain for gn instant,” he continucd, after another sip. *His mother looked very uneasy, and, apparently, advised him to go out. I judged from his fluctuations of color that it was vertigo —or a severe pain in the head. He would not leave until the services were * over. Jhave few more attentive hearers than March.” Anothersip. *IfI should be the means of bringing him into ' the church, it would be a happy day for his pious mother. Should my headache abate in the eourse of an hour or so, I will look in and inquire how he is. It would only be courteous and neighborly.” " In the adjoining dining-room, the door of which the draught had opened a . few inches, the fa.mily-circle of the solicitous pastor heard every word of the communication, although "his accents were subdued by pain. e Sharp-eared-and-eyed Perry winked at Betty. : ; - “He won’t fird Mr. March Gilchrist,” be mouthed in a fashion invented by bhimself, to convey pert speeches only to the person for whom they were invented. “He went to New York on the five o'clock train. I saw him. He said he was going to dine with a friend. I heard him."A\gan asked him. Another slice of beef, please, Hetty! Rare, and a bit of fat! Some gravy on my potatoes, too!” i il =

Hetty had shunned the orchard since the day of the last sitting. Seated behind the shutters of her chamberwindow. she hal 3een, almost every day, Thor bound across the grass in pursuit of a figure partially hidden by the lower branches. Since March frequented the spot, it was no resort for her. She had no time for

play, she told Hester, gently, when she pleaded for a return te the pleasant lounging and talk ‘‘under green-apple boughs.” Homer could draw the carriage down the garden-walk and through ‘the gate and leave the cripple there with books and color-box, whenever she wanted to go. Hester often brought back stories of chats and readings and painting-lessons with the brother or sister —sometimes with both. Occasionally, March came to the parsonage witha message from his sister to the effect that she had taken Hester home with her for the day or evening, and would return her in good order. He was apt to insist upon leaving the message with Hetty, if Mary Ann or one of the children answored his ring. Mr. Wayt’s wife sister would obey the summons in person, but she did not invite the bearer in.

She ran down in her simple morninggown, or almost as plain afternoon dress, without waiting to remove her sewing-apron, heard what he had to say gravely, and replied civilly, as might a servant or governess. And, day by day, he marked the lessening round of cheek and chin, and the deepening of the plait between the brows. She could not know that he wernt away, each time pitying and loving her the more, and furious at the cruelty of the demands upon her time and strength. She could not have altered her behavior, unless to grow more .formal, had she divined all.

But for the orchard outings Hester would have had but a dull summer of it. As it was, it was the happiest of her life. She actually gained flesh, and her cheeks had the: delicate flush of a sweetpea blossom. She mellowed and mollified in the intercourse with the sound, bright natures of her new friends. Prosperity was teaching her unselfishness. Hetty had a proof of this after she Sunday dinner was eaten, and there still remained a long hour of sunful daye ;

‘I have a charming book which Miss May lent me yesterday,” she said, as her custodian inquired what she should do for her entertainment. ‘“And now, that mamma has set the children to studying their Sunday-schocl lessons for next week, you ought to have a breathingspell, my poor dear. You are bleaching too fast to please me. You can’t plead *work to do’ for once.”

Hetty yielded—the more, it would seem, because she had not the strength to resist love-pleadings than from any desire for the ‘‘outing,” recommended by Hester. Taking shawl and' cushion with her, she passed down the gardenalley to the gate. There was a broad track through the orchard, worn by the

wheeled chair and Hester’s attendants. It led straighs to the king apple tree. From this bourne, anether ‘track, not so distinetly marked, diverged to the white picket fence shutting in the Gilchrist garden. Hetty’s feet had never trodden this, she refleeted with a pang, after she 1!‘514 settled herself against the brown trunk. It was most probable that she never would. : ‘ Her one little dream was dead, and she was too pfactical a business-woman to resuscitate it. Her consistent plan ot avoiding March Gilchrist, and abjuring -the painful sweet.of association with his sister was adopted before she returned to the house from her ineffectual quest ' for Homer and the parsley. She was - fllled with wonder, in looking back to _ the time (was it three minutes, or

thirty?) she had wasted, leaning on t¢he gate, enveloped in lilac perfume as in a viewless mantle, and daring to feel as other and unexceptional girls feel—that she could have forgotten herself so utterly. She said—*‘so shamelessly.” “The worm on the earth may ok up to the star,” if it fancies that method of spending an ignoble life, but star-gaz-ing and presumptuous longing for a million centuries would bring planets and worms no nearer together. Hetty was very \bumble in imagining the figure. Seme people must live on the shady side of the street, where rents are low, and green mgld gathers upon stones, and snails crawl in areas. If the wretches who pune and pale in the malaria-breeding damps . would not go mad, they must not look too often across .the way where flowers and people bloom. If they do, they must support the consequences. - This misguided girl had looked. She was now suffering. That she merited what she had to bear did not make the pain less. - :

Unwittingly she had spread her shawl where March had laid his rug last night. The rough bark of the tree-bole hurt her presently. Her gown was thin, and her flesh less firm than it had been six weeks ago. She slid down upon the shawl, her head on the cushion, and reached out, in idle misery, to pick up some withered leaves and small, unripe apples scattéred on the grass. March had dropped them while hearkening to his sister’s criticism of the Bohemian household. She was as idly—and as miserably—tearing apart the leaves toughened by the heat of the day, when she heard a joyous rush behind her and felt the panting of hot breath upon her neck, and Thor was kissing her face and licking her hands. She sprang to her feet and cast a wild glance along the path and under the trees. There was no one in sight.. The grounds were peremptorily posted, and no vagrant foot ever crossed them. She took in, the situation at once. March had gone to New York in the five o’clock train; the dog, wandering aimlessly abouat and missing his master, had espied her, and accepted her as a substitute. She knelt down and clasped her arms about his head; laid her cheek to his burly muzzle. “O! Thor! Thor! you would help me if you could.” Just as she had fondled him in those far-away, blissful days. Her hand was tangled in his coaf when, looking across his huge bulk, she. had met March Gilchrist’s eyes. True eyes—and bonny and true! which must never read her soul again. “Thor! dear Thor!” She cried it out in a passion of tears. ‘ The faithful fellow moaned a little in sympathy. The more eloquent than human longing to comfort the sorrowing, never seen except in a dog’s eyes, fllled and rounded his.

“I wouldn’t cry if I could help it, dear,” said Hetty, her arch smile striking through the rain.. *‘And nobody else should see me shed a tear. You are my only confidante; and 1 do believe you understand—a little.” :

He was not an indifferent consoler, it appeared, for in fifteen minutes both of them were asleep, their heads upon the same cushion.. i

The sunset sea breeze rustled the stooping boughs. Arrows of greenishgold, tipped with fire, were shot at random between the leaves at the sleeping pair. Hetty was very pale, but the grieving droop of the facial lines, the slight fullness of the lower lip, and the slow curve of the arm thrown above her head made her seem like a child. She looked what she was, fairly tired out—weariness so intense that it would have chased slumber from the eyelids of an older sufferer. She had cried herself to sleep, Thor’s presence giving the sense of protecting companionship the child feels in his mother’s nearness. The cool breath of the approaching twilight, the grateful shade and Sabbatu stillness did the rest. ;

Now and then a long, broken. sigh heaved her chest, and ran’' through her body. There was the glisten of tiny crystals upon her eye-lashes. Once, she sobbed aloud, and Thor moved uneasily and sighed sympathetically. By and by, he began to beat his tail gently: against the turf; his beautiful eyes gleamed glad and wistful, but he did not offer to lift his head. Hetty patted it in hersleep, and left her hand there.

She and Thor were walking over a wilderness prairie. The coarse grass flaunted up to her chin, and she would have lost the dog had she not wound her fingers in his hair. Such a long, tiresome, toilsome way it was, and the grass 8o stiff and strong! - Sometimes it knotted about her ankles; sometimes the beards struck, like whips, across her face. A bitter wind was blowing, and stung her eyes to watering. In passing, it lashed the grass into surges that boomed like the sea.

Miles and miles away an orange sunset burned luridly upon the horizon, and right between her and it was a floating figure, moving majestically onward. A mantle blew back in the bitter wind until she could almost touch the

2 % % RSN .\ - : lté ""&'&h’ p 'B‘2»‘\‘2'o;/*%4’! %. % : -~ mzz“,{/’/g'l Qi % (] ki 3 ..\-’ ‘A f hy 4”3'o“"' ‘f dg {\: ~':’6"”[‘ ! | T A ey | Y A i 7 vt ‘‘OH, THOR, THOR!” SHE CRIED IN A PASSION OF TEARS. hem; a confusing flutter of drapery masked the head 'and shoulders; the face was set steadfastly westward, and kept away from her. At long intervals, a hand was tossed clear of the white foldings and beckoned her to follow. “And follow I will!” she said, between her set teeth, to herself and to Thor, “I will follow until I overtake him o# die!” , And all the while the blasting wind hissed in her hair and howled in the pampas grasses, and her feet were sore and bleeding; her limbs failed under her; her tongue clave to the roof of her mouth with dryness; her heart beat faint— ; Hark! At the upw~~4 fiing of her leader’s arm music ...d down from ‘Heaven, and the earth made joyous re-. sponse; strong, exultant strains, like an organ peal, and such vibrant melodious chimes as Bunyan heard when all the bells of the holy ofty rang together for joy. The majestic, floating figure turned to lean toward her with outstretched srms, and eyes that gazed into hors 88

she had vowed they should nevor took agein. . *O! I knew it must be you!” Sho said it aloud, in heér rapturous dream. ‘‘lt could be nobody else! Thank Gonb! Thank Gop!” -

Thor bounded from under her hand. *# # * * March Gilchrist’s New York friend was a bachelor cousin, who was always delighted to have ‘‘a good fellow” drop in upon him on Sunday evening. March, in the uneasy wretchedness that beset thim, honestly intended to visit him when he took the five o’clock train. He wanted to get away from the place for a few hours, he said; away from tormenting associations and possible catechists, and think calmly of the next step to be taken. By the time he reached Jersey City he had discovered that ‘he was trying to get away from himself and not from his home; moreover, that he wanted neither dinner nor the society of the genial celibate. He stepped from the train, turned inte the station restaurant, sat down at the table he had occupied on the day he landed from the City of Rome and .missed the noon crain, and ordered at random something to eat. The longér table built about the post in the middle of the room was surrounded by a party of men and women. The men wore full black beards and a greap deal of waistcoat, crossed by gald ropes. The women had round, black eyes, high-bridged noses and pronounced complexions. March tried not to see them and tried to eat what was set before him. It made him sick to observe that Hetty’s place was filled by an overblown young lady whose bang made a definite downward peak between her black brows, and who had ten rings on the left hand and five on the right. He caught the six-thirty train back to ‘Fairhill. He had made up his sensible mind to talk over his family to a project marvelously-well developed when one remembers that the inceptior was notan hour old when he swung himself off upon the platform of the Fairhill station. He would set out next week for the Adirondacks, set up a forest studlo and begin. ‘‘serious work.” The phrase jumped with his mood. Nothing else would draw the inflammation out of the wound. He meant to bear up like a man under the blow he had recéived, to forget disappointment in labor for a worthy end, love, in ambition. He took the orchard in his walk home from the station. It was quite out of his way, and he was not guilty of the weakness .of denying this. He went there deliberately and with purpose, vaulting the fence from the quiet street . at the foot of the hill, as he had’done on that memorable Sunday when the orchards were *all a-flutter with pink.” One more look at the nook under green apple-boughs would be a sad satisfaetion, and the contrast between what he had hoped and what he knew to be rockbottomed reality, would be a salutary tonic. One look he must have—a look | that should be farewell to folly and re-" gret. :

While still twenty yards away from the arbor he espied something that looked like a mass of white drapery lying upon the turf. He stood just without the stooping boughs fencing the sleeper about, his face framed in an opening of the foliage, as Hetty, aroused by Thor’s bound from her side, raised her eye-lids and closed them again with a smile of dreamy delight upon eyes swimming in luminous tears.

“I thought it was you!” she repeated, in a thrilling whisper, and again, and more drowsily—*“Thank God/” :

The church-bells, chiming the half! hour notice of evening service, went on with the music of her dream.

Thor, enacting, a second tirme, the role of Deus ex machina, thought this an auspicious moment for thrusting his cold nose against her cheek.

With a stifled scream, she attempted to rise, and catching her foot in the shawl, would have fallen, had not March rushed forward to her help. Having taken her hands to restore her to her balance, he continued to hold them. She struggled to free them—but feebly. Surprise and confusion had robbed her of strength and self-possession. ' ““I thought—they said—that is, Perry Baw you take the train for New York!" she managed to articulate.

“Hetty!”—imploringly, while the eyes she had seen in her vision, overflowed hers with loving light—*why do you shun me so persistently? Are you determined never to hear how dear you are to me?” B

CHAPTER VIL This, then, was the outcome uf Marck Gilchrist’s iron-clad resolve to forget in serious work one who could never make him or his family happy! Verily, the ways End variations of a man in love are past finding out by ordinary means and every-day reasoning. Our sensible swain could enly plead with his sister in defemse of his fastgrown passion, that the girl ‘suited him.” Having decided within eight hours that no alliance could be more unsuitable than one with Mr. Wayt's wife’s sister, he had cast himself head foremost into the thick of impassioned declaration of a devotion the many waters of doubt-could not drown, or the fires of opposition destroy. ) Dizzied and overwhelmed asshe was by his vehemence, Hetty was the first to regain the firm ground of reason. He had seated her, -with gentls respect, upon the cushion that had pillowed hee head, and, dropping on one knee, the ‘‘true, bonny eyeg” alight with eagerness poured out the story whose out: lines we know. Earnestness took the tinge of happiness as he was guffered to proceed; the deep tones shook under the weight of egotion. ' Not until she made aresolute effort to disengage her hands, and he saw the ‘burning blushes fade intodusky pallor and her eyes grow set and troubled—did his heart begin to sink. Then, the gallant, knightly soul forbore importunity that might be persecution. If his suit distressed her forany cause whatsoever, he would await her disposition to hearker to the rest.

Releasing her, he arose and stood a little space away, respectfully attending upon her pleasure. “I did not mean to impose all this upon reluctant ears,” he said, when she did'not speak. Her face was averted, her bands pressed hard together. The rust-brown banfleaux, ruffled by the pressure of her head upon tke pillow, gleamed in the dying sunlight like a nimbus. The slight, girlish figure was not a Madonna’s. It might bea Mary at the tomb in Bethany before the “Come forth!” was spoken. *“A word from you will send me away,” continued March, with manly dignity, *if you wish to dismiss me and the subJect forever. - I can not stop loving you, but I can promise not to ammoy you by telling you of a love you can not receive.” s ~ Iro pE conTiNUED.]

BOGUS M’KINLEY PRICES.

A Protectionist Attempt to Show That the McKinley Law Ifas Reduced Prices—A . “Cheap and Nasty” Humbug to Deceive the Ignorant. The American protective tariff league is circulating in the newspapers of the country some price lists talen from the St. Paul Journal of Commerce, to show that prices are lower now than a year ago. About half of these lists are devoted to cotton cloths of various kinds. The price of each kind in January 1890 and 1891, is given in parallel columns. But this comparison is a very cheap dodge. The items in the comparison of cotton cloth prices are only forty-eight in all; whereas a full report of the cotton cloth market, as printed in the New York Commercial Rulletin, contains some 1,500 separate items. Naturally in a market report covering so many articles and so many different grades there will be found forty-eight or even more cases where prices are lower now. . . An actual examinatién of two such reports in the Commercial Bulletin, one for February 28, 1890, and the other for February 13, 1891, shows that most brands of cotton goods are sold at the same prices now as last year, also that some are lower, but that others are higher. Among the forty-eight brands which this bogus protectionist comparison represents as lower, some are found to be the same as last year. But why should not cotton cloth be cheaper now than last year? Middling -upland cotton is now quoted in New York at 94 cents per pound, while a year ago the price was 11 5-16 cents. Cotton being more than two cents a pound lower, cotton cloth ought to be considerably lower all around; but it is not so. Most prices are unchanged, ‘ while some are actually higher. ; This bogus comparison is printed un- i [ der the heading, ‘McKinley Pricés.” But the McKinley law does not make ’ a great change in the duties on .cotton cloth. Many are unchanged. Some are lower and some are higner. To claim that the increase of duty on some kinds of cloth has already produced competition and thus lowered prices, according to the orthodox protection doctrine, is in the highest degree absurd As a simple matter of fact this haT not oecurred. - A part of this blundering comparison of ‘“McKinley prices” is devoted to drugs and paints. Here sulphate of quinine is given at 42 to 47 cents an ounce last year, and 87 to 42 cents this

year. DButhow can this be a “McKinley price,” as quinine has been on the free list since 1880? It is rather a free trade price. Another item is castor ooil, on which a reduction it price of @ ifrom fivda to fen cents a gallon is claimed. But the MeKinley duty on castor oil is precisely the same as the old duty. That duty is 80 cents a gallon, which is equal to 200 per cent. ad valorem on the oil imported. Where the McKinley law does not change a duty it is only a piece of cheap humbug to claim thatany change in price is a ‘‘McKinley price.” Another part of this list is given to groceries. The only two commodities on which a comparison is attempted here are sugar and soap. Thirteen different makers of soap are given, and a slight reduction 'is claimed on each. But how ean this be a “McKinley price,” since McKinley left the duty on soap unchanged, except a very slight increase on castile soap? The reduction in the price of sugar is undoubtedly due to the fact that the McKinley law removes the sugar duty on April 1. The fall in price before duty is actually removed only emphasizes the truth that the tariff is a tax. The ‘“McKinley price” in this- case is another free trade price.. : . But why should this protective tariff league claim that lower prices are ““MecKinley prices?” Does it not know that this same McKinley is going about the country trying to persuade the people that cheapness is an evil which we must struggle against—that cheap and nasty go together? _

A TARIFF COMPARISON.

A Comparison of the Old Tariff, the Mills Bill, and the Mc¢Kinley Law—McKinleyism Reduced to Ad Valorems—Compound Duties Simplified — A Tariff Study For Tariff Inquirers.

- The average of duties under a tariff law is a much simpler matter to calculate than many people suppose. The average is not gotten by taking the duty on each separate article, adding these up, and dividing the result by the number of articles. It is a much shorter process. The total value of all dutiable articles imported being known, the total amount of duties collected upon them is simply calculated as a certain percentage of that value. In this way we reach the result, so often stated, that under the old tariff tax the average duty was 47 per cent. This was the average for 1887; for 1889 the average was somewhat above 45 per cent., the ~dutiable imports for that year being valued at $484,856,768, and the duties collected being $220,576,989. What the average is under the McKinley law nobody knows or can know until the figures of imports and of duties for a given time are known. Senator Carlisle has ventured to predict that the average will be about 60 per cent. - ' The main difficulty in understanding just how high a duty is, arises from the fact that when a duty is given as so Tpuch per pound or per yard we must first know the price of the pound or the yard before we can know whether the duty is high or low. For example, when we read in the tariff law that tin bars are to pay a duty of 4 centsa pound after July 1, 1893, we do not know whether to regard this as a high duty or as a low one, unless we know the price of tin. When we find that the price of our imports in 1890 was 19.7 cents per pound we easily determine that the duty of 4 cents is equal to 20 per cent. ad valorem, or 20 cents on the | dollar, which is certainly not a high duty as duties go. :

Such a calculation of all the articles under the tariff schedules has been made by Mr. J. A. Lindquist and has been published by the Reform Club, of New York. This pamphlet serves as a sort of tariff dictionary in which one can find the ad valorem equivalents of the duties on all the articles where a specific or a compound duty is laid. The pamphlet is called ‘‘Comparison— Item by Item.” It gives in parallel columns the duty on each article under the old law, the same as proposed by the Mills bill, the present McKinley duty, and the ad valorem equivalent of each. The articles in each schedule are given together and, the duties are given in adjoining columns. . The way this comparison seems to bring out the iniquities of the McKinley 3 tariff law may be seen from an extract from the tobacco schedule. .In the following table the column for the Mills bill is omitted, the duties being the

same in it as in the old law. Her: is the extract: e Leaf tobacco, of which 85 per cent. is of the requisite size and of the necessary fineness, and texture to be suitable for cigar wrapr ers, and of which more than 100 leaves ure tequired to weigh a pound: —_— A :[ 5 Tariff of 1883.|i "McKinley ' Tariff. : —_—— e ——— & tecll o e > > | 3 |2B 3 152 " G 4 , g 4 ed & ¢S | 5 182 5 |E2 s s ks e If not stemmed,! l ! : per pound.... 75 8 $2.00, 222 If stemmed, per, I | (pound... Lo sL00) 175 275 481 "All other tobacco in leaf, un-| . \ manufact-uredl | l If not stemmed, per p0und....l , 35 es} 35| .65 If stemmed, per - | pounac... .| 40 72i! 50 89 The transformation of the specific duties into their equivalent ad valorem duties gives the following results in the case of a few articles. - : ‘ < £ £ s Article. ISpeciflc Duty.| 924 | 822 o ‘ e Tinp1ate5..............122-100.per | 6 Cotton tje5.............1 13:-10c. per Ibl ic4 Steel rai15..............] 6-10 c. per | 48 Common window glass i not exceeding 10x15...| 18c.. per 1| 68 Above that andnot ex- l sceeding 16x:4.........| 1 %Be, per m] 115 Above that and not ex- | ceeding 24x30.........| 2%c. per | 129 Above that and not ex- i ceeding 21x36.........| 27%c. per b 132 A11ab0vethat..........| 8318 c. per 81........ Cleaned rice.............| 2¢c. per | 104 tlorn stareh . .00 ) 20! per l“bl 92 Binder twine............| %7-10 c. per b 6 One excellent thing that this comparison does is to give the equivalentof the compound duties. As these duties are so much per yard or pound and so much per cent., they are less readily understood by the average reader. Here are a few McKinley compound duties on woolen goods reduced to a single ad’ valorem equivalent: : Compound Equivalent ; duty. ad valorem.’ Woolen cloth valued : at 30c per 1b.........33cand 40 ¢ dvat B Valued at 40¢c..........38%kc and 40 ¢ 138 Valued at 80c..........44c and 50 ¢ 119 On blankets the ad valorem equivalent ranges from 91 to 119 per cent.; on hats, from 66 to 112 per cent.; on flannels, 75 to 180 per cent.; on women’s and children’s dress goods, from 75 to 123 per cent. . Any one who wishes to malke a study of the tariff would do well to get this pamphlet. e

THE “FARMER’S TARIFF.”

Agricultural Produce Not Raised in Price by McKinley’s Duties—A Protectionist Paper Exposes the Frand of the ‘Farmer’'s Tariff’—Figures of Exports and Imports of Farm Products. A protectionist organ in attempting to show that the McKinley tariff law has not raised prices prints a list of articles which are as cheap now or cheaper than a year ago. The curious thing about this list is that it is made up entirely of articles produced on the farm. Of cpurse McKinley’s duties on farm product have had no effect in raising prices. How could.they have when our farmers are exporting every year vast quantities of their products, and our imports of those products amount in most cases to almost nothing? Let every farmer examine the following figures of exports and imports, and old and new duties of agricultural products and see if he can discover any substantial reason in them why the MeKinley law should have been expected to help the farmer. The figures for exports and imports in the following summary are taken from the official report of the treasury department for the fiscal year ended June 30, 1890: Barley—Old duty 10 cents a bushel, McKinley duty 30 cents; imports, 11,330,000. bushels; exports, 1,400,000 bushels. Corn—Old duty 10 cents, McKinley duty 15 cents; imports, 1,626 bushels; exports, 101,900,000 bushels. : Oats—Old duty 10 cents, McKinley duty 15 cents; imports, 21,000 bushels; exports, 13,690,000 bushels. Oat Meal—Old duty a half cent per pound, McKinley duty Icent per pound; imports, 2,360,000 pounds; exports, 25,460, 000.

. Wheat—Old duty 20 -cents a bushel,. McKinley duty 25 cents a bushel; imports, 157,000 bushels; exports, 54,380,000 bushels. : ‘ Flour—Old duty 20 per cent., McKinley duty 25 per cent; imports, 1,219 barrels; exports, 12,231,000 barrels. | Hay—Oold duty $2 per ton, McKinley duty $4; imports, 134,000; exports, 36,000 tons. . ; Hops—Old duty B'cents per pound, MecKinley duty 15 cents; imports, 6,539,000 pounds; exports, 7,540,000 pounds (in 1889, imports, 4,000,000 pounds; exports, 12,500,000 pounds). -Potatoes—Old duty 15 cents per bushel, McKinley duty 25 cents; imports, 3,415,000 bushels; exports, 406,000 bushels. - Apples—Old duty none, McKinley duty 25 cents per bushel; imports, none reported; exports, 453,000 barrels. " Dried apples—Old duty none, McKinley duty 2 cents a pound; imports, none | reported; exports, 20,800,000 pounds. Butter—Old duty 4 cents per pound, McKinley duty 6 cents; imports, 75,523 pounds; exports, 29,748,042 pounds. Cheese—Old duty 4 cents, McKinley duty 6 cents; imports, 9,263,573 pounds; exports, 95,376,053 pounds. Bacon—Old duty 2 cents, McKifiley duty 5 cents; imports, too insignificant to get into the Treasury reports, but all “meat products’” were about $500,000 worth; exports, 531,899,000 pounds. Hams—o Old duty 2 cents, McKinley duty 5 cents; imports, none reported; exports, 76,591,000 pounds. Beef—Old duty 1 cent, McKinley duty 2 cents; imports, none reported; exports, 353,500,000 pounds. ~ Mutton—Same duties as beef; imports, none reported; exports, 256,000 pounds. Tallow—Old duty and McKinley duty 1 cent per pound; imports, none reported; exports, 112,000,000 pounds. ' Pork (fresh and pickled)—Same duties as beef; imports, none reported; exports, 80,000,000 pounds. . Lard—Old duty 2 cents, McKinley duty 2 cents; imports, none reported; exports, 471,000,000 pounds. The above figures cover the principal articles of farm production. In only three commodities—barley, hay and potatoes—do our imports exceed our exports. It will be seen that McKinley raised the duties on nearly all the above articles, and now the protectionist paper " above referred Eo undertakes the very easy task of showing that McKinley’s ““Farmers’ Tariff” has not raised prices. This paper is the New York Press, formerly edited by that rabid protectionist, Robert P. Porter, and its columns are seen mainly by city people, who are interested in having farm produce cheap, | henes the Press’ exposure of the warth. | lessness *“M‘m‘!’!a‘* des on farm | A e mfi‘mfigmfim@

FOR LITTLE PEOPLE. ~ THE ARTFUL ANT. A Tragic Tale. g Once on a time an artful Ant ' . Resolved to give a ball, ’ for tho’ in stature she was scant, - ey ‘zBhe was not what you'd call A shy or bashful little Ant. (She was not shy at all.). ; . She sent her invitations through 3 ; ’ The forest far and wide; : 'To all the Birds and Beasts she knew, ~ And manymore beside. i (“You never know what you can do,” Said she, “until you’ve tried.”) Five-score acceptances came in - : Faster than she could read. Said she: “Dear me! I'd best begin To’'stir myself indeed !” : (A pretty pickle she was in, : . With five-score guests to feed!) ° The artful Ant sat up all night, = A thinking o’er and o’er, > = How she could make her scanty store, s Enough to feed five-score. : {(Between ourselves, Ithink she might Have thought of that before.) . She thought, and thought, and thought all night, » ; And all the following day, Till suddenly she struck a bright ; Idea, which was—(but stay! : : Just what it was I am not quite : : At liberty to say.) o ‘ Enough, that when the festal day Came round, the Ant was seen To smile in a peculiar way, : As if—(but you may glean 5 From seeing tragic actors play : The kind of smile’l mean.) ' From here and there and everywhere : The happy creatures came, The Fish alone could not be there. (And they were not to blame. “They really could not stand the air, But thanked her just the same.”) : The Lion, bowing very low, ‘ i Said to the Ant: “Ine’er o Since Noah’s Ark remember so : Delightful an affair.” - = (A pretty compliment, although bis Hereally wasn’t there.) 3 They danced, and danced, and danced, and ‘danced; : G It was a jolly sight! : : They pranced, and pranced, and pr anced and pranced, . Till it was nearly light, . And then their thoughts to supper chanced to turn. (As well they might!) : Then said the Ant: “It's only right i That supper should begin, : And if you will be so polite, Pray take each other in.” (The emphasis was very slight, . But rested on ¢ Take in.”’) : 2 They needed not a second eall, They took the hint. Oh, yes, ° . The largest guest “took in” the small, ; The small “took in” the less, % The leas “took in” the least of all, - (It was a great success!) As for the rest—but why spin out This narrative of woe?— - i The Lion took them in about As fast as they could go. - He went home looking very stout, And walking very slow.) T And when the Ant, not long ago, Lost to all sense of shame, : Trled it again, I chance to know : That not one answer came. i (Bave from the Fish, who ‘“‘could not go, But thanked her all the same.”’) s ! —Oliver Herford, in St. Nicholas. .

FLAMINGOES.

Those Found in Europé Are Exceedingly - Large and Have Queer Habits. ;

What curious creatures they are; so large and ungainly in appearance, yet so carefully made and so brilliantly dressed. Have you ever seen one of the awkward fellows stalking about? I find I had no idea of their size until I began to study them. Think of a bird measuring four feet from the tip of his. bill . to* the tip .+ of his tail, and fully six:feet from bill to claws! Yet that is said to be the average size of those found in Europe. The males are of a brilliant red color, with purple wings. They have very | curious bills; near the middle they make a sudden curve down, precisely as .though a joint had been broken at that place. Thisis what a traveler thinks when he first sees one, but as they travel in groups, by the time he has watched dozens of them fly by, he con‘cludes that it would be hardly possible for them -all to have broken bills, and discovers that the wonderful Being who made’ them, planned these same bills with a view to the life they would live. These great birds have web feet, and can swim as well as fly, though they do not seem to be very fond of the former method of travel; in fact their long legs are rather in the way of graceful swimming, and the web foot is used chiefly 'for moving about on soft, thick mud. When a flamingo eats his dinner his ‘‘broken”’ bill comes into use; he wades through the soft mud of shallow water, ‘ dives his' long neck down, placing the bill in such a way that the upper part pecomes the under, and with it he gathers the .choice bugs or worms or fishes which are to form his meal. The nests of flamingoes are built, if possible, near shallow water, where there is plenty of mud; in fact, it is mud which forms their chief building material. They make little hills about eighteen inches high, carefully built up -of ‘mud, and leave a place in the center for eggs. It seems it is not proper to speak of these birds as ‘‘sitting” on their nests, for the simple reason that they do not sit, but stand, with their feet in the water, and their bodies resting on the edge of the mud nests. In this way they lay their eggs and hateh their young. : i Two eggs at a time are all that seem to be allowed in these nests. It is said that if the flamingo had the habit of sitting on her eggs, as do other birds, her body is so heavy that she would be almost certain to injure them. Is itnot a remarkable thing that she was created. with instinet enough to know this, or at least if she does not know any thing of the kind, with habits suited to her duties?—Pansy. : e

PLAYING COWBOY.

What Cured a Small Boy of His Desire to ‘ Live on the Western Plains. It was a warm winter day. The snow was moist enough to rollgood. Hadiey and Ray had just finished making a splendid snow-man, when Neighbor Henries came up the path. ° ' Neighbor Henries lives upon a large cattle ranch in Texas every summer, and he had come to say good-bye, for he was going there the next week. He sat by the open window, and told papa stories of a ‘*‘cowboy’s” life until Hadley wished he could go with him, and be a ‘‘cowboy,” too. “Well, may be you can, if youn learn to use the lasso,” and Neighbor Henries’ eyes twinkled. ‘“‘Got a good rope handy?” Hadley soon found one, and the lesson began. He was an apt scholar, and soon he could throw the noose over things very nicely—if these things did not more. o Aoy “Now try your skill on that heifer, my boy,” and Neighbor Henries pointed to a sleek two-year-old heif&l‘pgvkich stood near the barn chewing her cud oontentedly, .. o g L

up behind her like a young Indian. He coiled the rope and threw it. It settled fairly over the short white horns of the heifer, and the fun began. Plucky Hadley held on as hard as he could, and away they went—a frightened heifer at one end of the rope and a frightened boy at the other. ' ' : ‘‘Ha, ha, ha! That looks like Texas, only we haven't the snow to make a soft place o land in!” langhed Neighbor Henries. Lo

How the snow did fly! The heifer bellowed, .and Hadley yelled as she dragged him along, -and the mad race went on until Hadley’s breath was very nearly gone, then it ended in a sudden way. The heifer ran close to ahigh, steep bank, as if-she was going to leap overit. - :

Hadley let go of the rope, but he was going so fast he could not stop, and plunged over the bank and out of sight in' the huge.snow-bank at the bottom. It took both papa and Neighbor Henries to dig him out, and when he was safe once more Neighbor Henries said: ‘A pretty ‘cowboy’ you'd make, my lad! You'll have to stay athome a while longer yet.” ; I mean to!” said Hadley, promptly. “I don’t want to be a ‘cowboy.’. I wouldn’t if I could as well as not. I'd rather be—l'd rather be the President of the United States!”—Daughters of America. : { ‘ ~ WASHINGTON'S BIRD. One of the Early Spring Songsters That Is - Deserving of Much Honor. Of, all our birds of passage the pewee is the pioneer. He is usunally present by the twenty-second of February, and so he has received the name of Washington’s bird. ; ' - It seems to me there is something in pewee’s character which merits the name bestowed upon him. He certainly possesses courage and hardihood, for he is willing to breast the boisterous winds of March, and to sing upon leafless boughs. * Most birds do not return until- the leaves are about one-third grown. . _‘ : v If the weather be sunshiny and pleasant pewee helps honor Washington’s birthday with the cheerful carol: “Pee wee, pee wee!” If it prove to be bleak and drear he sounds the plaintive lay: ““Ah, me! ah, me!”’ :

Washington’s bird is a plain, brown little creature, with a yellowish tinge. It does not build its nest in trees, but prefers old bridges, mills or eaves. A pair of birdsalways consult in reference to the selection of the best place for a nest. Madame never gives in to Mr. Pewee, and if there is a difference of opinion a new site is selected which is agreeable to both. ; ‘‘Birds in their little nests agree,” but it is after the ““tiff” is over. The nestis made of grass, mud and moss, and has a soft lining of hair and silky grasses. The eggs are pure white, spotted with red, so that at least two of the National colors appear, as is proper on the part of so patriotic a bird. . e

There is a peculiarity about . the pewee, noticed by the Poet Lowell. He is the first bird to pipe in the early morning, but always preludes his song with a slender whistle, unheard at any. other time. It is said, tog, that his song grows more melancholy toward autumn. Let us fancy that it is becouse he is 'soon to leave the human friends to whom he has become attached by building his nest for many years in or near the same spot. - This affection for people may also account: for his early return, in which case it is clear that so intelligent and devoted a bird deserves this naume of honor—Washington’s bird.-—(il}' Little Ones. - Lo

SEWING ACHES.

The Kind Little Jessie Had When Her . Mother Had Work for Her.

Jessie sat down by her mother to sew. She was making a pillow-case for her own little pillow. '

. “All this?” she asked in a discontented tone, holding the seam out. . .

“That is not too much for a little girl who,has a work-basket of her own,” said hermother. .

~ “Yes,” thought Jessie, ‘“mother has given me a work-basket and I ought to be willing to sew,” and with that she took a few stitches quite diligently. “I have a dreadful pain at my side,” said. Jessie, in a few minutes. ‘“My thumb is very sore,” she said, in a few minutes more. ‘Oh, my hand is so . tired!” was-the next. Next there was something the matter with her foot and then with her eyes, and so she was full of trouble. At length the sewing was done. Jessie brought it to her mother. “*Should I not first send for a doctor?”’ said her mother. : : “The doctor for me, mother?” cried the little girl, as surprised as she could " “Certainly. A little girl so full of pains and aches must be ill, and the sooner we have the doctor, the better.” ' “Oh, mother,” said Jessie, laughing, “they were sewing aches. lam well now.” 3 I have heard of other little girls besides who had sewing aches and pains whenever their parents had any work - ‘for them to do. This is a disease called “selfishness,” and I hope none of my little girls are afflicted with it.”— Christian Inquirer. 5 . HEAVEN ON EARTH. : 'The Welcome Meaning Given One of God’s . Promises by a Little Boy. That was as good a description of Heaven as any body need ask for which a little Sunday-school boy gave in answer to his teacher’s question: *“A place where you're never sorry.” Could a more satisfying idea of sojl-rest and joy be suggested? Evidently thechild spoke right out of his heart. Even his short experience had taught him how common, and how bitter a thing it is for ~us to be sorry In this life of blundering and perverseness. He knew already ‘-the misery .6f sinning and repenting and then sinning again and again repenting, in ‘an endless weary round. He put a very homely, but very practical and welcome, meaning into the promise that-in Heaven there shall be no more sorrow, nor crying, gd ‘that God will wipe away all tears ffom our eyes. , ‘But if this is going to be true im Heaven, the nearer we come to the same condition of mind now the readier we shall be for it there. Really, the essential thing for us to look at is not whether we shall hereafter get into Heaven, but whether Heaven is at '’ presentmtfinf;mw;:?& M ke ‘would be a good rule for us all, and the younger we begin to acton it the better, to aim to live in such a way thatwa Shall have ns little 8 GAGEY 6 B B RS Te T T