Ligonier Banner., Volume 38, Number 35, Ligonier, Noble County, 26 November 1903 — Page 2

Chicago in the Midst of a Big Labor Difficulty. ¢ ‘ TRANSPORTATION PROBLEMS The Publiz Has Not Been Inconvenienced as Much as Might Be Ex~ pected—The Steam Roads ) toalhe Rescue, : Chicago.—The preseni strike on the lines of the Chicago City railway, oper-

ating the street raiiway linesonthe South side of the city, is the biggest thing of the kind the cily has had to deal with since the historic days of 1894 when the Pullman car troubles brought Federal troops in‘o the city by the order of President Cleveland. Mere figures can give no adequate jidea of what such a strike means. In

o '.1;:" g@ 7 : “Aedeerfasdjg @ 01 leedaitivesin 4 2 i“lofl ’n a e O e iR, s coen " oo /LBR & A Dy /4 ) <O5 et P J . /Iy The Street Car Strike Is On

" point of numbers the 3,000 men out is but small compared to strikes in-the building trades, which the city has had within the past two or three years. But the number of people directly or indirectly effected runs into the hun“dreds of thousands. In fact it effects all of the South side, with .its 500,000 population. It effects the business and social life of all of these in one way or another. | : Though figures can tell but little of such a strike, here are a 'few that are representative. Of the City Railway. / company’s employes more than 3,000 are ont; the calling of the strike stopped; for a time at least, every one of the 1,874 cars operated by the company on its 320 miles of track. The daily receipts of the company average a trifie over $19,500, and of this sum $6/200 was paid the men now on strike as wages. It is estimated that the increase asked by the men would amount . 1o $140,000 for the year. This sum represents just about the amount lost in receipts_to the company by a seven-

dayy’ tie-up’ - By exercising the imagination some idea of what such a strike means to: Chicago may be had from these figures. The fact that so large a number of cars and so many miles of track could be operated profitably necessarily means the accommodating of a large population. Had the strike occurred on the lines of the Union Traction company, | operating the lines on the West and North sides of the ecity, it would have been three times as big as it is. A Long Suffering Public. Patrons of the Chicago street car fines have been long suffering. Local

franchise conditions have tended to make the service on all lines worse than it would otherwise have been. The uncertainty of franchise renewals, or at least the basis of such renewals, have been the excuse of the company for poor service. e This city has practicaily not a mile of underground trolley. An-

D gt > e! ! 1 " s et T S ; 3“‘,@"“ D c("?, fi.fi.! amif/@\ WY . " =9 ‘M@ » <L\:.J ”_;“ 8 Li\»';‘ B : Conditions Before the Strike -

tigquated overhead trolley and cable systems are the rule all over the city. From one n'clock until morning even these lines are dispensed with and horse cars substituted on such through lines as are o’peratéd. The belated individual who is caught downtown after one o'clock at might has no other! choice than to ride in a stuffy little horse car. If ne lives anywhere near the end of the line it is close to morning when he gets home. The majority of the cars operated are of antiquated pattern, and in these even standing room is at a premium during the rush hours-of the morning and evening. For the past five years the policy 'of all the ‘companies seems to have been to await franchise developments before making improvements. | The companies claim that large profits are not possible from the operation of street cars in Chicago. This may, in part, be true. The city is expanding in territory at so rapid a rate that the operation of lines in the sparsely settled outskirts may be at a loss, though evcn that is hardly probable as the lines can be run at- but small . cost. According to the companies’ figures they cannot afford to pay the city even a small percentage of the receipts for a franchise, and the transportation committee says they will not get one unless they agree to do so. At the same time the strikers are agitating municipal ownership, and the public may ‘fall in with the idea. ' . _ Got There Just the Same, Inconvenient as it is to do without street cars the strike has not kept

many people at home, and it has served to illustrate possibilities in transportation. State;street merchants have suffered but little from the effects of the strike, though the small merchants of the outlying district have been less fortunate. All roads lead to State street, but the local merchants of the resident districts must depend

AL B 2 ;fr, .A P& : ; (.\", ' : \\‘\a'. “W‘. SR AT EA A V. (\,\ : ‘))- < Got Down Town Just the Same

e upon practically one line to bring him business, aside from that living near enough to walk. People have found a way to get to State street, but they haye not found a way to reach places nearer home. The South Side elevated road . has been the greatest gainer by the strike. Like the street car llnes it has been supposedly carrying all the passengers it could. Before the strike its trains

were packed with 85,000 passengers daily. That was supposed to be the limit of its capacity, but since the strike began it has in some way managed to rake in 250,000 nickles daily, thus more than doubling its supposed capacity. - What will be the result when the strike is settled? Will it be possible for the elevated to again raise the cry of “inability” when its patrons demand better accomodation and a seat for every fare? A :

The fact is the public have learned something about transportation)“possibilities, and it is not likely to take excuses for action from the railroad companies if their representatives in the city council can force action. More than ever before has it served to bring the transportation issue forth as a local campaign issue. Municipal ownership will find many a, new friend in the ranks of the “strap hangers’ unless the service is materially improved. The public now know what is possible. ; The Steam Roads. 5 . The South side is better equipped to stand a protracted street car strike

than anyothersection: of the city because of the number of steam roads it has to fall back upon. - Railroads from both the east and south reach the center of the city through this section,'and nearly all of them maintain a suburban train service. At ordinary times the Illinois Central alone carries 45,000 suburban passengers

%5 TO I STEAM CARS 0 ‘@—éq% 000 % > &V 0 X )/ ] 0 op B\ 000 0 3 Voo / m' ,} . 004 Wil D ) QA eWb 0 M‘ i il 1y i Harvest of the Steam Roads

daily, and it was not a hard matter to increase the carrying capacity of this road to nearly double that number. The Pittsburg & Ft. Wayne, the Chicago & Western Indiana, the Chicago & Eastern Illinois, the Monon, the Grand Trunk, the Lake Shore & Michigan Southern, the Rock Island and the Chicago Terminal all run suburban trains. The normal capacity of these roads is about 200,000 passengers daily, but inside 24 hours after the strike had been called this capacity had been more than doubled. o x

- It has been a profitable season for these steam . roads. Commutation tickets are sold on all of them at about one-half regular rates of fare, but the enforced patrons have not taken to the commutation ticket idea. They buy trip tickets and waich the newspapers for signs of peace on the street railway lines. Because of this the income from suburban traffic on the steam roads has tripled on many of the roads. -

The North and West sides of the city are-not so well covered by steam roads and a sfrike on the street railway lines of either of these sections would be a much more serious matter for the public than is the present trouble on the South side. ° ; : : Saves Insurance Premiums. Chicago is economical, and wisely so, in a direction which would prove fool-

ish and probably disastrous to the’ private citizen who is possessed of a residence or other buildings. . Chicago carries no insurance on her many expensive buildings, save with one exception, namely, the isolation hospital which stands on a tenacre tract of land at Thirty-fifth and Lawndale avenue. This building is valued at $122,316

Sl b gl V 7 g | “/TN | i =/ Wi it c T 0\ it No Insurance on This

and' the city pays the yearly premium on a $65,000 policy. On her school buildings, her magnificent pub}‘{c library, city hall and other buildings, she carries the fire risk herself, and thereby saves premiums which would ageregate a million and a quarter of dollars. A conservative estimate of the value of Chicago’s public buildings give us $40,000,000, which amount is exclusive of the realty upon which they stand. The public library with its equipment is valued at $2,442,854, the aggregate of school buildings and equipment at $19.570,921, and the city hall at something less than $2,000,000. °

Upon all this valuable propertyv the city pays not one cent of insurance. It is presumed that if the citv wished to obtain insurance it could do so at four per cent. for five year periods. 1t would be necessary, according to the terms of insurance, to insure for 80 per cent. of the value of the buildings and contents. This on the estimate of a $40,000,000 value, would demand a yearly premium of $1,280,000. - Years ago many buildings of the city. were kept insured, but ten years ago, or thereabouts, the last of these policies was allowed to lapse, and the only one now carried is upon the isolation hospital. The buildings of the city are: so scattered about that the comparative risk is small, and the history of the city’s carrying its own insurance has been more than justified in its savings. : WRIGHT A. PATTERSON. Sure to Be Fined. Some butchers of Frankfort, Germany, evidently find it cheaper to be fined small sums for using boracic acid in the manufacture of Frankfort sausages than to be haled up for selling meats affected with trichinae or allowing the dearer 'meats to spoil in other ways. John Klein, a butcher, followed the example of many others recently and was fined only $2.36. If this sum were paid every day in fines, the loss caused the butcher would not be so great in a year as the loss from meats undoctored with the chemical. -As Usual, '~ “Has he any occupation?”’ “Well, he has had one.” ““What?” “Trying to be ‘a good fellow.”” “Did he sueceed?” : _ “As long as his money lasted, yes.”’— Chicago Post. g The Sort of Fellow He Is. Knippe—What sort of a fellow is Johnson? . : Tucque—Oh, he is one of that kind of men who are always remarking: ‘lt looks as though we'd have a little rain before night.”—Syracuse Herald,

THEATERSOF GOTHAM

New York City and Vicinity Is OverBurdened with Play Houses.

THE SHOW IS VERY EXPENSIVE

This Year’s Season Promises to Be Unprofitable for the Managers— Too Many Places of Amusement ~QOther Timely Gossip. New York.—The last theatrical season was New York’s ‘“best on record.”

The present bids #ir to be one of the worst in years. The drop was unexpected. At first managers said, optimistically, that things would brighten after election. Election came, but not the brightening. Houses that for years have displayed “standing room only”’ signs after 8:30 are just meeting expenses. The Wall street

i ")5.,? % y .‘{)37' BE ~a g ('“’- SIS B /’ if ) < g - ./‘]/J ~ < : e | My Kingdcm for An Audience

slump is in part to blame; the managers are inclined to say it is wholly so. Butif the theaters had to rely upon Wall street they would be melancholy failures. There is always in the Tenderloin a fair proportion of “sudden rich,” who display bad taste in spending money foolishly, but the bulk of theater audiences are people who work for their money, and try to make it go as far as possible. Some of these steady-going people have toyed with steel and things when they were up, but no great proportion. The professional “bears” are richer than ever.

The sad truth is that New York‘s theater men have overshot the mark. They thought that there was no end to the money that people would pay to be amused. The building of seven or eight new theaters of the highest class in a single year was too much. And there were many before. Within New York in all its boroughs and in the near Jersey towns from which its theater audiences are drawn in part, are more than 100 theaters and music halls. These will hold a cityful of 150,000 or 200,000 people every night. Then there are the great halls where concerts and other entertainments are given. There is Madison Square garden, where since Dowie left it in disgust and defeat, a continuous succession of shows'is in progress—dog show, horse show, military show and the like. : ; Is -it any wonder that there are beginning to be empty chairs? .

The Cost of Theater Going. New York is the most expensive city in the world to attend the theatér. True,

in London the price of tickets is even higher. In a swell theater you pay $2.50 for a seat in the ‘“stalls” or orchestra chairs. Just behind you, separated only by a railing is the “pit,” with unreserved seats, priced at 66cents. The lines of people waiting at the pit door for choice of seats often begins to form as early as six o’clock. The theory is that there

'2*: e 4 7, i '-‘ v \‘/ "\ g/ Ko ‘ ' S awl. A ;": ’ ‘ -7 2 _.‘ i\ Ll b NN [ 5 ‘\\\t ;;-_,\ ? D B S o ST | ‘ ' B 3 %'Qb P ‘f'\‘ -_a R Rt (g R o fi‘ ,-_‘_‘ “Best Girls” Are Expensive

are avfeW' who can pay well for the best seats. The others cannot, and aren’t ex-

pected to. . All incidentals are cheaper in London, much cheaper in Paris, unless one insists upon taking a midnight suppper at the Ritz or Metropole. In New York ihe best seats are two dollars at the high class houses. Cab hire is prohibitive; the restaurants that make a specialty of catering to the ‘“‘theater crowd” are all costly. Not only such resorts as Sherry’s, Delmonico’s and the Waldorf and Holland house, whose fame has gone over the land, but such typic,_al Tenderloin strongholds as Shanley’s and Rector’'s spoil a five-dollar bill for any young man who ventures to take his best girl there after the show. A new restaurant has recently been opened in this region. - It soon became a favorite, because after the show actors and musicians frequent it. The price of a dinner or supper is $1.50; and the thrifty proprietor charges an additional 25 cents for every guest who does not order wine ‘“for the good of the house.” Thus $1.75 is the cheapest price of a meal at a resort by ng means firstclass. : e

All told, it tires out a $lO bill to take in the theater. Young men who have their wdy to make think twice before trying it often. The fact is, that New York rapidly tends to become a class city, like London. There the festive coster can get a good seat for 66 cents and plenty to eat afterwards for his own price. The New Yorker, who is content with a trifle less than the best, gets an excellent seat in a theater by no means bad, but not smiled upon by “society,” for 50 cents, and a good meal afterward for as much more. But his evening’s entertainment is ‘“‘second class” and the expression grates on his nerves—as it should. this being a republic.

The Modish Small Theaters. ; The small size of the fashionable house has much to dq with the cost of

theater going. The famous Weber & Fields music hall is a case in point. ! It seats less than 1,000 peorle, and the prices are from two dollars down. .The Madison Square seats only 650. The Belasco and Bijou and . Garrick and Criterion are all small and costly. Theselittle gems of playhouses~are favorable to the per-

7 \ g "‘w /' ”wfl s G Urme P I PE 1) ¥y AN =TT ;‘7;))' :LH -y B & =3 /"‘Q,ée N The Audience of the Gallery

formance of 'society plays where actors wish to speak naturally without straining their voices. They are well suited,

too, for the amusement of a small leisured class who know each other and who like not to be too far away from each other. The small size of the Weber & Fields place aids in giving it a snug and homelike air. The actors can take the audience into their confidence. And to pay such people as Lillian Russell, Fay Templeton, Willie Collier-and the rest, 900 people have to chip in something substantial. On tne other hand, 25 cents buys a seat in any one of a dozen respectable houses, and one in the Bowery achieves the triumph of selling sky gallery places for ten cents. But to sustain the reputation of the Bowery for variety, another house at the very heart of that famous street prices its best seats at $1.60. . A dollar and a half for a theater seat on the Bowery! New York is a city of contrasts. ;

Our managers who go to London run up against local prejudices in an odd manner. One benefactor of hisrace who went over there was struck to pity by a line of people waiting in the rain at the pit door. “I’ll stop that,” he said. “Have the pit seats numbered and sold by ticket.” It was done, but not for long. The pitites deserted their haunt until the old method was restored. Once when Mansfield was in London the pit was noisy. It interfered with the performance so that finally it was’ stopped for investigation. It appeared that the manager, in his innocence of the sacredness of custom, had invited some friends to take seats in the pit before the doors were opened. This infraction of the sacred rule, “first come, first served,” caused the racket. It was not stilled until the manager’s friends went out with a crestfallen air. Thereafter there was quiet. : ' Horseback Riding Fashionable. In one respect the automobile has not driven out the horse, and probably

never-will. ‘Horseback riding was never more fashionable.” The horse show is still the great autumn event. In the park I have never seen equestrians more numerous. The “hunting set” on Long Island—in which set ‘“hunting” means chasing the fox to hounds on horseback in the English fashion—has many

a O i, L ) 1 ~ S | ol R, "’.5" 4 o T r ‘;;\ ' T ] '(.A\Z‘F\Q}bf* 3 At the Jump

recruits. Hunting in this fashion is common in the south, where it grew up naturally by direct importation from English packs of hounds and studs of hunters. So far as I know there is only one place in the north where it is not exotic. That is 'the Genesee valley, in western New York, where the Wadsworths have long maintained a hunt, the original of that described in David Gray’s “Gallops.” At the Genesee hunts it was once no rare sight to see the neighboring farmers riding to hounds with the master and his guests. Ifancy that arcadian simplicity is past now.

The Long Island hunt is distinguised by the daring of its women riders. Mrs. Hitchcock, Mrs. Igernochan, Mrs. Ladenburg and others have made the Meadow-, brook famous by deeds of daring; and it isofrecord thatthe president of the United States once broke an arm over a fence behind the hounds of John Allen’s pack. Of this hunt Foxhall Keene is master and H. Seaver Page, Stanley Mortimer, the Okies, the Clarks, the Havemeyers are interested as riders or. observers. Bourke Cochran, the powerful orator of Tammany Hall, who more than any other one man . won its recent victory, isa frequent attendant, though past the years of discreet riding. One Girl Who Married An American. The mention .of the Meadowbrook hunt recalls the recent marriage in Lon-

don of young Jay Phipps, who was for a time so smitten with Mrs. Ladenburg, the dashing widow of a Wall street magnate. - Mr. Phipps was a constant at-. fendant at the hunt and a daring rider. Recently he married in London Miss Margarita Grace; it is worthy of note that Miss Grace could have had her pick of an

/= ‘v.‘?l"? 148 v'[',‘f' 's‘;\\ :;i;',_,.// o// /j /L st &' R BN AN The Seat of War

e e 8 e swaglle it line: .of British noblemen, and that she is wealthy enough to have afforded the luxury. Michael Grace, the young woman’s father, is a brother and partner of W. R. Grace, once mayor of New York, and leader of the reforming County Democracy, and then and now and always a great South American merchant. Both families of Graces have lived for years on Great Neck, Long Island, on the edge of the Hempstead colony. . ‘Being a big South American merchant is exciting business. One does get so mixed up with revolutions. In more than one recent civil war below the “line” the house of Grace “backed” one side and the house of Charles R. Flint backed the-other, so that the war was practically a contest between two quiet, low-voiced merchants in New York. This queer complication is “featured” in various of R. H. Davis’ stories. - Both Graces have numerous families. Michael Grace's three beautiful daughters were known in London as *“the three Graces,” and were favorites in society. Phipps’ father was once a partner of Andrew Carnegie. There will be no lack of meansin‘the new household. ; . OWEN LANGDON. Method in His Madness. Towne—lt's funny. Borroughs is forever preaching to his friends about the necessity of saving their money. Browne—Well? . Towne—Well, he’s the last fellow in the world who should preach that. Browne—Not at all. The more his friends save the more he has the chance to borrow.—Tit-Bits. . Very Crusty. - She—The cook baked that bread especially for you, dear. He—lt’s just like her, isn’t it? “How do you mean, just like her?” ‘“Very crusty.”—Yonkers Statesman. A Discriminating Dog. “Bridget, did the dog eat much when he got into the pantry?” “Shure, mum, he ate everything but the dog biscuit.”—San Francisco Wasp,

) 3 ® - oUSlnNLjordce., (gl e ' (4 2/L 0 N ".4',)/;" 2Ce By John HRaftery They were one of those trusting up-to-date young married couples who profess to scorn the old-fashioned weaknesses of the newly wed. Although they had been one for more than a year they still hugged the ‘belief that their conduct on the honeymoon had fooled everybody .into the notion that they were well = settled man and wife. They didn’t use ‘‘dear’” nor “sweet” in addressing one another, and in fact after 12 happy months they believed that their experience was at least one emphatic ‘“no” to the question: “Is marriage a failure?” “Kate,” said Tom Kingsiand to his wife at breakfast, ‘“Cousin Horace— Capt. Horace Kingsland—is coming dewn for Thanksgiving. You know how he treated us when we were in Toronto?”’

‘“He was grand, that's what he was, Tom!” she radiated, pouring the coffee with new zest. ‘“He was lovely to us, and we must—" “That’s what I was going to suggest,” broke in Tom. ‘“We must do something for him—" . *“Just leave it to me, Tom. And say, Tom, he must meet Martha Dinwiddie. She’s—"’

“Oh, there you go, of course! Matchmaking. Why on earth can’t a man have a good time without getting all tangled up with wom—" “Thomas!”’ 7 :

“lI was going to say why can’t a man, a visitor, have a good all-round time without being harnessed up with a lot of women he never saw before and may never see again? Now I don’'t think Horace cares for society. My way would be to—" “Your way would be to drag him round to a lot of theaters, show him the stock yards and maybe get him a visitor’'s card to that hateful club, where he might be tempted to drink some of those horrible high-balls Mrs. Clatter was telling us about. You seem to forget, Tom (with a sly shrug), that it isn’t much more than a DA . sl N A Hj.' ; JRNX o N | i RY/ .p R !f/ : l‘"\ \ N/ ( N \ :'\ :/'r:":‘{,‘ / ‘\ l\* f 5 S Al - ik K i’-iu-.'f/*. W\7 K S\ |y f e J{f, i T H/f . ol ORIt A \ N\ a‘_ b \ k 1:'!.,,% ¥ Y R ; ‘:aa\.\ I - 7 ¥ R " \ f 3 X WL o ) \ ‘l’l‘{' (= t f Sl‘ l V 1»., S ] HE .PULLED OUT POOR KATE'S BUNCH OF INVITATIONS. year ago I was a pretty successful entertainer of bachelors myself. I hope I____Jl

290 h, that’s all right I don’t mind your doing all you can, but this thing of breaking out into society—you know we agreed to stay in the background. I can’t afford the-kind of a start we both believe in and—"

“There you go!” she snapped. “Who said anything about a big society function? You know I have four or five dear personal friends—of course I mean girl friends—who would fall over themselves to attend ever so simple a party of mine.” ' “Oh, I don’t know,” said Tom, trying to read his paper, sip his coffee and talk all at the same time. “Of course if you tell them that Horace is handsome, young and rich, they’il all come. Most young women would. They—” ‘“How smart we're getting!” sneered Kate. Then, as he remained silent, she resumed in tones in which .a tremolo threatened the asperity. “Thomas Kingsland, you’re positively unbearable!”

She got up and was flouncing out of the room when he caught her hand and said: :

“Oh, here, Kate! Don’t get angry. You know I was sick and tired of these society people when I met you. I don’t mind Martha, she is a corker, but for heaven’s sake don't go giving a big party. I wouldn’t enjoy it, Horace wouldn’t, and, besides, if you send out a big list the very people you care least for will come, and the very best, the kind we need, will stay away. Isn’t that the way it always happens?” “That’s just what I was going to say if you hadn’t stopped me with your horrid objections,” resumed tfie placated Kate. “My idea would be! a nice little Thanksgiving dinner here at home with, let's say, eight guests, including Horace. It wouldn’t cost—" . “Oh, I don’t care what il'd cost if there’s to be only ten of us, but I don’t think you can get eight young folks together for just a dinner, and with married folks, too! They won’t come, Kate!” o “They. will, Tom!”

“Oh, Martha might. I.dare say you've been telling her about Horace and__l,

“Yes, I have! I don’t deny it,” said Kate, sharply, sure of her ground. “They’re suited to each other exactly, and if I can help matters along, you bet I will! So there!” !

“All right, Missie,” he grinned, getting up; “go ahead, but I'll bet you a sealskin they all don't ome—not even half of them.” !

“I’ll take the bet, you rascal!” she laughed, and all that day she® was writing the most winsome littl»s notes to four of her very dearest friends and four of her most “esteemed” male acquaintances. :

Tom brought Cousin Horace home with him that evening, and Mrs. Kingsland “went on” over him as fondly as a young pullet over her first chick. He was a big, sweet-voiced, soldierly man, with yellow, curly hair and the manner of a boy. Coming from the rigorous weather of Canada, he looked very queer in his fur greatcoat, cap and mittens, for the day was almost warm. They had a merry time at supper. Kate was at her best, and Tom, delighted at the first chance he’'d had in

a year to take ‘“a flyer” with a man his wife could trust. “Kate, dear,” he said at last, winking slyly at his cousin, “Horace has: to go down-town to look after his luggage. It won’t take us long—"" “All right, Tom. I’ll trust you with Horace. I know he’ll take care of you. Besides, I want you to mail some letters for me—the invitations. You know, Tom.” o She slipped the eight envelopes into his hand and gayly slapped him on the back. The men smoked a few cigarettes in the parlor, chatting with Kate, before they started. ' “By Jove!” snorted the .Canadian, looking at his fur coat in the hall, “I’ll wear no coat. It's a blooming tropical place, Chicago.” “Oh, no, it isn't, Horace,” chimed the solicitous hostess; ‘“you must take a coat. One of Tom's—the raglan, Tom. It's too big for you, and you can wear the top coat.” So they bundled Cousin Horace into the raglan and away went he and Tom. ;

Mrs. Kingsland was sure of her guests and incidentally sure of a new sealskin coat (for she meant to hold Tom to his wager), but just the same she began to get a bit nervous at five o’clock Thanksgiving afternoon when she noticed that not one of the seven young folks had arrived. She remembered explicitly having asked Martha Dinwiddie to come early. Dinner was to be at six, and as she had received no notes declining her ‘invitations she was yet confident, but— Tom and Horace, oblivious of her growing misgivings, were listening to her very latest and most glowing tribute to the beauty, wit and grace of Martha Dinwiddie, and the handsome Canadian, well satisfied of Mrs. Kingsland’s judgment and appreciation, was beginning to feel a yearning desire to meet the much-vaunted Martha. Six o’clock came and struck without either of the men noticing the change that was coming over Kate. At 6:15 she was in a nervous tremor; she made repeated trips to the kitchen, and at intervals stood by the window watching the street. Finally Tom pulled out his watch, whistled softly, looked up and blurted:

“By jingo, Kate, your - guests are either late or they're not coming.” She stood before him ready to fly into a rage or weep. The tempest of her disappointment, however, resolved itself into tears, and in a moment she was sobbing on Tom'’s shoulder. :

“l didn’t think they'd do it, the heartless things!” she sobbed. “And Martha, too, the minx! She at least knew that I had my heart sel on this confounded dinner.” It was all out now. Too late to guard her mortification from Cousin Horace, too late to evade the- silent sarcasm of the waiting servants, too late even to avoid the distressing scene before her guest. But he as well as Tom came bravely to the rescue. “Their loss, not ours,” laughed Horace. “Let’s eat up the whole dinner ourselves. I'm ravenous, and, excusd me, Mrs. Kingsland, I don’t know but, on the whole, I'm gladder to have our dinner privately together. You Lknow I never was a beau. Ha, ha, hi-yi!” So they filed out rather mournfully to the dining room. Tom managed to whisper a message to his wife as they stood to let Horace pass, and when she took her place at the table she was a little brighter for the knowledge that she was to have the seal coat anyhow. The wine and meat, the wholesome humor and hearty laughter of Horace gave zest to their merriment, and betore the coffee came on they decided to have an impromptu theater party and “make’a night of it,” as Tom said. He was half sorry a moment after he had awkwardly suggested that “impromptu things are always happier,” but Kate, who noticed it, forgave him with a look.

But the theater party didn’t turn out exactly well, either, for as the men were getting into their coats in the hall Horace said:

“Aw, by the way, Tom! There's a lot of letiers here in this box coat of yours that I’'m wearing. I intended to turn them over, don’t you know, but ’pon my word—aw—l didn’t think of it till now.”

And he pulled out poor Kate’s bunch of invitations. Tom looked at her and she louked at Tom. ' The letters had been in that raglan ever since the night she gave them to her husband. They never .told Cousin Horace what a mess of it he had helped to make. Kate forgave her husband, but—well, Mactha Dinwiddie hasn’t met the Canadian yet.—Chicago Record-Herald. HIS HEELS SAVED HIS HEAD. 08 Se | o A}@g 8 Gl TR / f“ ) Sy “".l“n"-'-\ etz Yv R A e, AR e So £z -"“'\\_ - B~ & o AL . AT :}1 - /\ ~:‘._'l' / ] .:' ‘ :d’ —‘\ 5, 5, “But where is that beautiful tail you had the day before Thanksgiving?” “The Farmer said: ‘Heads I win, tails you lose!’” Well, I lost my tail. but he didn’t win my head.”—N. Y Times. Purturbation. = . The boarders were beginning to zather in the dining-room. Beyondthe swinging doors the proprietor stood over the turkey with several mathematical instruments in his hand. His brow was wrinkled. ? : “What is it, dear?” asked his wife. “Wife,” he said, “I have been working at this for over an hour but I can’t figure out how large the slices should be that I am to send in to 40 people, in order that there may be enough cold turkey left for lunch to-night.” - But it had been so long since he studied conic sections.—Detroit Free Press. A Welcome Guest, “Will you have any guests at your Thanksgiving dinner, Mr. Cloverseed?” “Well, I've axed a turkey.”—N. Y. World. :

OBJECT OF THE HOME.

Women Who Are Always Fighting Dust May Adopt a Suggestion from This. :

The truest homes are often in houses not especially well hept, where t'he comtort and happiness of the inmates; rather than extreme tidiness and the preservation of the rurniture, is first consulted._ The object of the home is to be the cencer, the pivot un which the family life turns, says Cooking School. The first requisite is to make it so attractive that none of its members shall care to linger long outside its limits. All legitimate means should be employed to this end, and no effort spared that can contribute to this purpose. There are many houses called. homes, kept with such waxy neatness by painstaking, anxious women, that are so oppressive in their nicety as to exclude all home feeling from their spotless precincts. The very name of home is synonymous with personal freedom and relaxation from care; solid comfort. : - But neither of these can be felt where such a mania for external cleanliness pervades the household as to render everything subservient thereto. Many housewives, if they see a speck on.the floor, rush at it as it it were the seed of pestilence, which' must be removed on the instant. Their temper depends upon the maintenance of perfect purity and order. If there be any failure-on their part or any combination of . circumstances against them, they fall into a pathetic despair, and can hardly be lifted out. They do not see that cheerfulness is more needed at home than all the spotiessness that ever shone. Their disposition to wage war upon immaculateness of any sort increases until they become slaves of the broom-and dustpan. Neatness is one thing and a state of perpetual housecleaning quite another. - - Out of this grows by degrees the feeling that certain things aad apartments are too good for daily use. Hence chairs “and sofas are covered and rooms shut up, 'save for special occasions, when they are lpermitted to reveal their violated sacredness in a manner that mars every pretense of hospitality. Nothing should be bought which is considered too fine for the fullest domestic appropriation. Far better is the.plainest furniture on which the children can climb than satin and damask, which must be viewed with reverence. When- anything is reserved or secluded, to disguise the fact is extremely difficult. A chilly air wraps it round, and the repulsion of strangeness is experienced by the most insensible.

Home is not a name, nor a form, nor aroutine. Material and method will not and cannot malke it. It mustgetitslight and sweetness from those who inhabit if, frcm flowers and sunshine, from the sympathetic natures which, in their exercise of sympathy, can lay aside the tyranny of the broom and the awful duty of endless scrubbing. )

HE BLAMED THE WOMEN.

And All the While Was Blissfully Unconscious of the Fact That He Might Be Wrong.

“Will you tell me why it is that wo.men always crowd into the three back seats of an open, car?”’ asked the man with the bone milk-can charm on his watch chain, according to the Chicago Daily News. “There may be seats to burn in the rest of the car, but they’ve got to butt in on the smokers’ seats and keep some poor suffering man from his cigarette. _ “If it was an arrangement of the street car company’s I could understand it. Take a train of cars and you'll see a crowd on the rear platform of one smoking up to beat the band. and the feilpws on the car behind getting their secondhand wiffs, but not daring to smoke themselves because it’s against the rules. Then on some lines you've got to go in front to smoke. Oh, they’re dandies!

“But when it comes to women getting into the smokers’ seats there’s no exception. They’ll take 'em fox; choice every time. They make the men already there feel uncomfortable because they know they ought to be polite and stop smoking, and then they keep the other smokers out. Maybe they do it in the interests -oof reform. They must know. There’s some reason for it. They—" : “Beg pardon,” said the conductor, touching the man on the shoulder. “You can’t smoke in these seats. Last three behind for smoking.” The man started. “Eh?” he said. “What? Why—er—blamed if that ain’t fgo! Well, that’s one on me.” - He was in a fourth seat. KNEW THE DOCTOR. And Kept Up the Lick When Working . on a Headstone for One of His Patients. .

The novelist, Thomas A. Janvier, lived for a ?mber of years in France, and has collected many folk tales and anecdotes of the French peasantry, says the New York Tribune.

“I heard a story of a physician the other day,” Mr. Janvier said recently, “He was a physician of Provence, and one morning, stopping his gig, he entered into condescending talk with a tombstone maker. ' “While the talk went on the tombstone man did not cease to work. He had a chisel in one hand and a mallet in the other. He was carving upon his tombs the words ‘Sacred to the memory of—’ and the rest he would leave blank. S “This proceeding, for Some reason, amused the physician. Watching the stonecutter, he laughed heartily. - “ ‘Why,’ said the other, ‘do you laugh?’ . ¢ ‘Because your way of work amuses me,” the physician answered. ‘Do you always cut upon your headstones the beginning of the obituary and then wait? 7 5 “ ‘No,” replied the stonecutter, ‘when there is someone sick and- you are treating him I keep right on.” ” Fried Rye Muflins. " These muffins are good on a cold day, and especially good with some kind of acid jelly. Sift together threequarters cup of rye meal, that has been sifted before, measuring, three-quar-ters cup of flour, two level teaspooons of baking powder, two - level tablespoons of sugar and a saltspoon of salt. Mix with one egg beaten with one-half cup of milk. Drop in small spoonfuls into hot fat and fry Ilike doughnuts.—Detroit Free Press.

- CITY TAKES A HAND. Chicago Council Instructs Mayer te . Use His Influence to End Strike —More Cars Run. Chicago, Nov. 17.—Twenty-five cars on the Wentworth avenue line wers operated at five-minute intervals from nine a. m. to five p. m. Monday, and the schedule of one hour and 40 minutes for the round trip was maintained with slight deviation. - The council’s session Monday indicated the depth of public interest in the strike. ~ After the passage of an order for a leg&:{pinion; on the right of the police to Ylde on cars, a resolution commending the mayor was adopted, and then the aldermen went further and instructed the mayor to use his best efforts to cause a settlement by arbitra--tion, either by appointing a committee of citizens and aldermen for this purpose or by his personal endeavor. Chicago, Nov. 19.—Cars were run Wednesday on Indiana avenue, as well as on the Cottage Grove and Wentworth avenue lines. Some attempts at violence were made on the first named road, but the day quiet on others. The cause of peace received a setback last night. After 12 hours spent in conferences the city and the company reached a deadlock at 10 o'clock. -At that hour Mayor Harrison expressed small hope that a seéttlement can be-se-cured. The aldermanic committee wiil convene again to-day. During the day session the mediators received from the strikers a proposition of concessions. This was in “turn submitted to the company’s Tepresentatives, who refused to accede to it. The men proposed to concede their demand for a “closed shop,” and, it is said, to aliow their pay to remain as it is, asking chiefly for rearrangement of schedules or hours of work. - At night a second effort was made, goirg over the same ground. 1o secure counter concessions from the company, but this was fruitiess. Chicago, Nov.. 20 —A proposition from the Chicago City Railway company transmitted to the mavor and aldermanic committee last night forms the opening for - negotiations which may bring a settlement of the strike to-day. The company agrees to arbitrate the wage question, and in respec: to the closed shop and time schedules makes polite reply. CANAL TREATY SIGNED. Secretary Hayrand Minister BunaaVarilla Agree on Panama - ‘ ) Canal Pact. 9 Washington, Nov. 19%9.-—Secretary Hay and M. ' Philippe Bunau-Varilla, the minister from Panama, at 6:4% o'tlock -Wednesday evening signed the. Hay-Bunau-Varilla treaty providing for the construction of the Panama canal by_the-United States. The ceremony occurred in Secretary Harz's study. — Hearty congratulations were exchanged and it was agreed thai the news of the signing of the treais should be kept from the public for the present. President Rocsevelt was immediately ddvised of the signing of the document and Minister Bunau-Va-rilla sent a confidential cablesram 1o his government stating that the treaty had been signed. The secretary and the minister refused to comment on the ceremony. The oaly official admission that can be had is that the “terms of the treaty are practically seitled.” » 2 = “Washington, Nov. 20.—The Panama commissioners, Dr. Amador and Nrt. Frederico Boyd, on Thursday consulted Minister Bunau-Varilla and Mr. Frank D. Pavey, of New York, the legal adviser to the legation. It is undérstood that they read over the treaty sigmed yesterday by Mr. Hay and Mr. BananVarilla and discussed its terms and provisions in detail. It met their hearty approval. - Heavy Loss by Fire. : Philadelphia, Nov. 18.—Fire early Tuesday practically destroved the fivestory brick building, 117-128 Neoria Fourth street, occupied by the Philadelphia Straw Board company and several other tenants. The loss on the building is estimated at $15,000 and on the contents $475,000, partly covered by imsurance. : : ) . Three Firemen Killed. Cleveland, 0., Nov. 17.—Three firamen were killed and two injured as the result of the largest fire that this city has suffered in months early Mondazx. " The dead: Robert Duffy, truck No. 2; James Schweda, truck No. 2; Robert Reed, truck No. 2. Fntal Explosion. ' _ Swanton, Vt., Nov. 19.—An explosicn fo the mixing room of the Robin Hood Powder company’s plant killed Georzs " Blair, injured nine. other men and de'stroyed three of the comipany’s buildings. : Assumes Soverei ty. Santiago, Cuba, Nov. llgr—'rhe Uzited States cruiser Baltimocre arrived here Tuesday morning from Guanianama, where she officially assumed sovereignty in the name of the United States over the naval station there

Bank Clesed. Egan, S. D., Nov. 18.—The Egarn State bank was closed Tuesday by the state examiner. Deposits, $40.000. Slow coilections is the cause. No siatement issued. : Lo-l of Life Feared. Boise, Ida., Nov. 20.—The hotel conducted by Mrs. Georgia Lloyd at Glems Ferry was destroyed by fire Thursday, and it is feared one or more of the guests lost their lives. The building contained 30 rooms, which were nearly all occupied. The ruins are being searched for bodies. = e Texas Bank Fails. Washington, Nov. 20.—The Farmers’ pational bank, Henrietta, Tex., has been closed by direction of the comptroller of the currency. Miller Weir, national bank examiner, has been appointed temporary receiver.

Confession of an Anarchist, Paris, Nov. 19.—A dispatch to the Patrie, from Lugano, Switzeriand, announces that an anarchist has surrendered to the police there and has confessed that he had been selected to kill the president of Switzerland, but that his. courage failed him. Villages Burned in Revenge. Constantinople, Nov. 19.—The Mussulmans in the district of Kirk-Kiliseh have burned five Bulgarian villages ia revenge for an attack made by the Bulgarians on the Mussulman village of Zarasa. i