People's Pilot, Volume 2, Number 31, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 20 January 1893 — Page 3

The People’s Pilot RENSSELAER. « : INDIANA.

TO AN OLD GUITAR. 1892. Her slender flngero, Jewel-Crest, Stole sottiy to and fro. And in and out among the strings. To tunes of Ma* ago. The golden ribboo kissed her thrtt* Wherefato his Ups would be— C%, how he loved her very breath. His sweet nuaiu Majorie! Xn velvet dress, with silken hose, dad jewels not a few, Ah, what a cavalier was he, ,3, £ In seventeen ninety-two! My songs are not so quaintly sweet As those she sang to him, My love and I no picture make < like theirs, with time grown dia® Bat music lingers still in thee. And love is just as strong, As when sweet Marjorie young. And tuned thee to her Seegt My love and I will pass away nJ Some day, and then will be a Another hand to touch thy "Strings,' And find thy melody. Do you not wonder, old guitar, Whose hand ’t will be, and who Will sing the sweet love songs to Ma* Of nineteen ninety-two? < I am not sad to think it true (The present is so sweet), That joy and sorrow must unit* To make thy chords complete. For what is sorrow, pain or death To us whose souls are strongl Time cannot put an end to thee, Dear life, and love and song! —■Annie Louise Brackenridge, in Centuiw.

AMERICAN PUSH.

By EDGAR FAWCETT.

Z' (pPVRIOHT, 1891 ' 5v the Author? AiuANce.

• CHAPTER X.— Continued. Clarimond smiled very coldly. “If you had chosen to dwell here in peace, you would have had slight cause to complain of tyranny. As it is, your continued sojourn is one of suSerano* alone.’' * “Sufferance!” gasped the princess. “Precisely. You came here with two motives. The first was to pit yourself against faiths and principles of mine which are a part of my very life. The second was to try and force me into a ■narriagwof the merest loveless convention. The weapons you have used in either case were the same that dealt my dead father the keenest grief, and perhaps drove him prematurely to his grave. Yours, madam, is a stormy and truculent spirit. I inherit nothing of it, but possibly I inherit from you alone the strength of will which too long has clothed itself in forbearance. That •trength of will you shall now have a chance to test. As I said, you will be watched. Being the lady highest of rank in my kingdom, I will accord you the right of receiving my guests on Thursday. But if the least sign of discourtesy is shown by you toward any guest who crosses the threshold of my palace, on the morrow you shall be conducted where the turbulence and rebellion of your disposition may boil and foment to the discomfort of others rather than my own. There, now, I think it is all quite plain between us.” “Quite plain!” muttered the princess. “Yes, I see—l see. You wish to crowd your rooms with vulgarians.” “You need not gaze upon those vulgarians unless you so desire. Certainly a number of people whom yeti will rate w vulgarians will present themselves.

Among these will be a young lady—ap American, or an Anglo-American, I night more Iruly call her--with Whom 1 shall open the ball. Her name is. Kathleen Kennaird, and I the first quadrille with Her. Sheds the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, the most beautiful I would ever expect*, to see, though I should live two dives instead of one. But were she a hunchback negress, fresh from Africa in her beads and warpaint, it need matter nothing either to you or those assembled. lam masters 1 am’ king. Far actions I jiccoupt to no one save myHe passed, with an air of unwonted but very distant pride; down along the* waxed floor of the spacious saloon. But rhe, who had heard him with ope or two convulsive shudders, now gave a kind of wrathful spring, both hands hanging ' clenched at her sides. “You will account to your emperor!” she called. “You are not so great as you vaunt yourself, Clarimond of Saltravia! You—you are just mad enough to marry this creature. I recall now that one of your cousins, the king of Saxony’s own nephew, too, disgraced himself by a low marriage. No doubt it is in your blood to do such horrible things. But I will prevent this.” The princess’ face glistened with little beads of sweat and her eyes were blazing. “I will go to the emperor at once, I will.” She recoiled, for Clarimond hurried back toward where she had stood, h<lf cowering in her frenzy. It seemed to • the princess that perhaps he might actually mean her some personal violence, though if her mind had proved less clouded by anger and dismay she would hhve realized that from one of his usually gentle spirit such a course, in any circumstances, would have been unthinkable. All that the king meant to do was to seize the bell-rope which a brief while ago he had desisted from seizing. But now reaching the spot where it hung he gave it a strong pull, and almost immediately two footmen, in the royal livery, answered his summons. “You shall go at once to the emperor,” he said, in a low and very .tranquil voice. “I will give these men orders for carriages afid will see that a special train -is prepared for you the instant you reach—” ge ■ ’ ’ “No, no,” broke hoarsely from the princess. “Send them away! I—l did i not mean what I said.” In a trice she had grown piteously humble “I—l was more than half in joke, my dear Clarimond;” and »little pathetic let of

toagtkver uroir* from her Up*, !!%» M •ffete spirit from a ruined fountain The king looked at her with great Steadiness for a second or two. “As you wish,” he then said, and gave a sign of dismissal to the two servants, who promptly vanished. The princess had indeed pulled In ■ail Her son had seemed to her, daring the few past minutes, like -a rock against which she would only waste her strength in vain. Besides, she waa immeasurably proud of his kingship, and would have-suffered untold regret if the emperor had presumed to attempt his deposition. It was all quite clear to her mind in this brief interval; she had 'gone -too far. She might have known that the lion in him would suddenly turn on her like this. He would,, keep the very letter of his menace, too, unless her tactics were changed forth with. Revolting in tfieir democracy though ahe held Iris views to be, hereafter she mdst conform to them or leave these lovely Saltravian hills. And surely she was quartered here in a most magnificent way. Her two or three Italian palaces were nothing to this, in which so lordly a suite of chambers had been allowed her. And then jthis enchanting valley, so radiantly improved in spite of all hes grumblings to the contrary! And the waters, too; she had no idea of the wondrous good they would do her rheumatism. It might all get stupid in the wintex. but the winter was still a good distance off. Time enough to slip est to Rome or Naples again by the end of November. And then there was Bianca d’Este. The girl’s love for her son was now almost a madness. For that most seemly of unions there was yet a hope. Yes, a hope—why not? “School yourself,” darted through the princess’ mind, “to a self-effacement difficult yet not impossible. In the end he may yield, and marry tier. Then your turn will come in real earnest, for if once there is a queen, if once there are little princes and princesses, he will grow more conservative. Men always do. That possible horror of his marrying the American girl (God knows there’s nothing rash he would not do, just now) must be met by subtlety, since high-handed measures have become mere blows in the air.”

Even roughly to put in words the lightning-like reflections of Clarimond’s mother makes them seem deliberative, not intuitive, as they surely were. When she again confronted her son, after the departure of the footmen, it was to show, both in speech and mien, a meekness and complaisance that she had never remotely hinted until now. “Henceforth you shqjl have no further cause for complaint,” she said: “I shall abet you in all your plays and purposes. Try me, and you shall no t be disappointed. I admit myself thoroughly vanquished. Your will is my law.” She bowed her head, and Clarimond, who knew her better than she knew herself, smelt deceit as if it were some odor that suddenly had freighted the air. A* the same time his native generosity and fair-mindedness made him hope this abrupt conversion meant more than its first blush would imply. “Agreed, then,” he said, with a reserve that expressed patience and sadness interblcnt. “But pray bear in mind one matter. If the emperor should have the presumption, which I greatly doubt, to concern himself in any of my personal affairs, however important or however trivial, I should as promptly resent such meddling as though it were the work of an officious subject. Though my answer should cost me my scepter, slight a one as it is, be assured that I should not hesitate to make it, and make it firmly. lam not so enamored of reigning that the emperor’s frowns or smiles can appeal to me as such mighty forced of my own destiny, nor shall you ever find me in the mood to regard him as if he were a schoolmaster with a birohen. rod. And now,” he proceeded, “I shall ask, you kindly to send me the list of those whom you haye already invited to the state ball. Such a course bn your part will enable me to avoid errord’which might otherwise occur, since J wish to makb out a list of my Qyvn, anQ-desire that it should npt clash with yours?’ “It shall be sent you to-riight,” was the reply, “or to-moirow, ir you prefer.”

“To-morrow will be quite early epqugh,” answered Clarimond, and with a bow he (Quitted* the great, bright-lit vacant apartment, ending an interview which was least agreeable of the many which he had held with his mother, and which had perhaps caused him more secret pain than any which he at all ’had held since his accession to the Saltravian throne. •, < * CHAPTER XL The court was already furbished with rich material for busiest gossip; but a few more morrows were destined to cast in shade even so pregnant a topic as Clarimond’s cogent reprimand of Prince Philibert. The king had been seen publicly strolling through his own grounds with Kathleen; he now as publicly visited her at the hotel, spending hours each day in the pretty sittingroom which Mrs. Kennaird at once secured for his own and her daughter’s comfort, as downstairs they would almost have been mobbed by gaping foreigners. The mental condition of Mrs. Kennaird, at this particular time, was one of hysteria, narrowly verging upon dementia. The king’s open admiration for her child filled her with a feeling toward him which might have given her, if she could have looked upon herself just as she now was, and looked from normal eyes, many shivers of shame. She had impulses to fling herself on her knees before Clarimond, and press her lips to his hand, telling him that he was the most godlike being the world had ever seen, and that his goodness in giving heed to Kathleen roused hqr deathless maternal gratitude. The American snob, who is apt to be the most mettlesome and affirmative of alj snot>3 yet ,recorded, had risen rampant in Kathleen’s mother. She could not sleep; she could scarcely eat a morsel, and then did not know of what food she partook. At first she had ideas of sending to Paris for a robe in which to array her child at the etale V»IL

Then, after this plan had been t stead by Kathleen, she grew reconciled to the idea that the girl might create a more striking effect if clad with the utmost simplicity. After all, let her be attired in the plainest of white frocks. What Other beauty in all Saltravia could stand so trying a test? “Yes, it m wiser," she said, excitedly, to Kathleen. (Of late she had done and said everything excitedly, yet with her effort to appear self-repressed hardly better concealed than that of the fugitive ostrich.) “My dear,,you are quite right. People will look at you more, and in so doing they will see you as you really are. Besides, it’s in far nicer taste.” “Oh,” said Kathleen, shrugging her shoulders, “I should like a handsome gown; what girl in the circumstance* wouldn’t? But to telegraph to Worth or Felix, and to send either of them money wo equid so dl afford!—why, the very thought of it is pure nonsense, mamma, as you must be aware.” “I wasn’t thinking of the expense," replied Mrs. Kennaird, with a little irrepressible catching of the breath. “There are certain things one always can afford.” Kathleen laughed and shrugged her shoulders. “You mean, I suppose, that we could go back to Dresden and economize more severely than we’ve yet done.” “Oh, no; I didn’t mean that. I—l didn’t mean that in the least,” said her mother. Kathleen gave no answer, divining what had really been meant. If her mother only knew the actual substance of her late conversations with the king! They had principally talked of her past engagement to Alonzo Lispenard. She had been very frank; she had told Clarimond everything and had found in him a most gracious and friendly listener. He had asked her many questions, to all of which she had replied with candor. As regarded the imBrcsston that she had made upon him, she could not doubt that it had been one of strong fascination. This in itself was nothing new; most men, under a certain age, had shown her but one sort of homage. To have a king show it was entirely novel, and not a little

dizzying. Moreover such a king as he, filled to his finger-tips with all the graces that please women, handsome, courtly, amusing, in countless ways, the choicest of male companions! For three afternoons he dropped in upon her, and in each time her mother received him in her blandest fashion, contriving soon to slip from the apartment and leave them together. Mrs. Kennaird had no fear of the faintest imprudence on Kathleen’s part. If she had thought at all on this subject it would have been to decide that her daughter’s American blood would save her from even a dream of folly. Besidrs had she not already, learned that Clarimond was the most honorable man in his own kingdom? Let people chatter, as they undoubtedly were chattering. Among the hotel-residents it was jealousy, pure and simple. What chiefly concerned this very agitated lady was the question of how Alonzo had thus far acted and of how at any moment he might take it into his head to act Here he was, returned to Saltravia, the bosom friend of the king’s bosom friend. He must have heard that Clarimond was intensely captivated with Kathleen. Everybody was talking of the affair. Stories had got afloat that the princess of Brindisi had already pleaded by letter the intervention of the emperor. “You are so reticent, my dear,” she said to Kathleen one evening at the end of the king’s third visit “You never will tell me what he says about Alonzo to you. Does he not mention him?” Rarely, mamma, and then always with kindness.” “Kindness, m—yes.” Mrs. Kennaird pursed her lips a little. • They’re stillfriends, then?” “Friends? Oh, yes.” “I suppose Alonzo hasn’t dared to say a word against you, Kathleen. Otherwise he’d certainly have relieved himself of untold spleen, my dear.” »■ '“He never carried grudges,” the girl said, as if her own thought was her sole auditor. “Well, even if he didn’t! Heaven knows he had a monopoly of most other faults!” At this particular time any praise of Alonzo was for some reason

specially nauseous to Mrs. Kennaird. “And as for keeping silent about us to the king, why, there isn’t the least doubt that he’ll do so. How would ho dare do otherwise, now that Clarimond has become your actual slave.” “Mamma! Mammal” exclaimed Kathleen. “You will make me so ridiculous ifanyoneby chance overhears you in these mrfjds.” “Moods?” bristled her mother. “What moods? I’m excessively reticent! You are so droll at times, Kathleen! As if any mother could bear more calmly than I do the splendid, the unparalleled honor which overhangs you.” . Kathleen looked fixedly at the speaker, with her eyes moistening a little and her under lip would not speak like this,” she faltered. “It distresses me so.*' Her mother continued, however, stating that she had not the vaguest doubt Clarimond would soon startle his court more keenly than he had dreamed of startling it before; that Kathleen had only to wait a little while longer and the stars would drop ripe and shining in her lap; that all past anuoyance, mortification, defeat was to end gloriously in unique triumph. Kathleen listened, and then slipped, as soon as she could, into the privacy of her own chamber. The king had said that he would revisit her to-day. There was only an hour yet before the time of his coming. She did not want to *see him again, and yet she did want to see him again. What was it? Did if; mean that he might bring her certain tidings of Alonzo? Did it mean this? Did it really mean this? Or was she infected with the fervor of her mother’s overleaping ambition? Her mother! The sense of that personality, that companionship, so tremendous,*so drastic in its influence, its domination, terrified her. She looked, into her own brain, as it were, and found there nothing but a depressing tumult How would she act

tndud to required <4 her? No, no; the need of such action would not, could not, coxae. He, • ' king! It was fatuity to dream of what her mother had ao boldly prophesied. Her hands were at intervals very treat* , ulous while she dealt with her toilet; and once or twice she felt as if she must desist from it and seek the one sort of aid that just then would have been least to her taste. But when the king came she received him with much composure, Iler motbur was to-day in visible throes. Tc Kathleen her disarray was pathetic. The perturbed lady gave one or two spasmodic curtsies which were a mournful travesty of her usual serene equipoise. She was so drunk with the heady wine furnished by the fact of this fourth royal visit that exhilaration made her almost stagger. Clarimond, calm and gentlemanlike as usual, appeared to notice nothing. “Perhaps," thought Kathleen, “he is used to such grovelling servility. Poor mamma, will she ever get out of the room with a decent grace, she who has prided herself for years on doing nothing awkwardly?" But at last the door closed on Mrs. Kennaird’s ducking and cringing figure As this happened Kathleen breathed an audible sigh of relief. The sigh ended in a feverish laugh, and she said, with sudden candor, to her guest: “It's dreadful how you’ve demoralized my mother. You must see, so I mention it.” “Demoralized her? I?” “Oh! then you don't see, monsieur, mamma isn’t accustomed to kings; that is all.” “And are you?” he said with his sweet, kind smile. They were now seated opposite one another, and near n large window that gave one a fine view of the mountains and a still finer view of his white, many-turreted palace. “No,” she answered. “But mamma— Oh! you mual have noticed. You’re a royalty, as they call it, and you’ve turned her head. It’s odd, too, for she has met all sorts of great people—prime ministers, dukes, even the English prince himself. ... I seem so vulgar when I talk liko this! Ido hope you’ll excuse me. No doubt, you are used to embarrassing people, especially Americans.” He shook his head, smiling. “I have always thought it ratliar liard to embarrass Americans,” he replied. “One in particular,” he added; and then his smile deepened, as he watched her with a glance full of drollery both frank and sly. •‘lf you mean me, monsieur,” she returned, with a slight shrug, “I am somehow proof against all Surprises. It’s very scandalous, no doulft, to ao- i knowledge as much at my age.” [to be continued.]

THIRTY YEARS IN BED.

A Woman Who Keeps the Vow Mala When She Was a Belle. In the village of Mattuck, L. 1-, lives a woman who has not been out of bed for thirty years. She remains in her bed, not from any infirmity, but from choice. Thirty years ago, when a very pretty, attractive girl of eighteen, *h* was the belle of the village, a leader at all dances,picnics and social gatherings. She had any number of beaux, buU strange to say, had never received a proposal of marriage. This she felt very keenly, particularly as her girl friends were one by one marrying. Two or three months before her nineteenth birthday she told her mothei that if she did not ‘receive an offer of marriage before her birthday sh* would go to bed and remain there a* long as she lived. Her mother treated it as a joke, and thought no more of it. The girl was doomed to disappointment, and on retiring the night of her nineteenth birthday said: “It’s no use and I’ll never get up again.” She has kept her word all of these years. Threats and persuasions had not the slightest effect upon her. Her mother took care of her at flrsi and then, at her mother’* death, a sister took the task upon herself. Now the sister is dead and she is left to the care of more distant relatives. She i* very cheerful and seemingly contented, and is always glad to liave the neighbors drop in to chat with her. She is quite talkative until the. subject of her keeping her bed is broached, and then she has nothing whatever to say. Her hair is gray and her skin very sallow, but one can easily see that in her youth she must have been an extremely pretty girl. Her room is on the ground floor and in summer her. bed is drawn up under the open win dow, on the outside of which has been built for her a wide ledge or shelf. Her head and shoulder* are well wrapped up and She rests them out on this ledge, r She will lie there by the honr looking up the street and holding in he» hand a small mirror, held so she can see what is coming behind her. She in very fond of children and they play under her window, and seem to quite like the decidedly queer-looking objec’ on the window ledge.—N. Y. Recorder

No Filial Ke era i d in Thibet. Filial piety fines no place in the Thibetan character. It is no uncom mon thing for a son to turn his father, when too old to work, out of doors and to leave him to perish in the cold. The superstition that the souls of the dead can, if they will, haunt the living, drives their hardened natures to gain by the exercise of cruelty the promise of the dying that they will not” return to earth. As death approaches the dying person is asked: “AV ill you come back, or will you not?” If he replies that he will, they pull a leather bag over his head ana smother him. If he says be will not, he is allowed to die is peace.—Edinburgh Beview. Sharpening Files by Add. A new mode of sharpening files k recommended by German papers, name* ly, the use of acids. A metal sheet covered with a thin layer of charcoal it fastened upon the file, protecting ths edges. This combination is laid into s solution of six parts of nitric acid and three parts of sulphuric acid in a hundred parts of water. The acid eat* away all the fnner part* of the di* leaving the protected edges unchanged which are then sharpened MV aaa

RAILROAD NATIONALIZATION.

A Radnetlon in Rat«a of Transportation Ineropiot, Instead or Rodoeoa, Railrose Earnlne*. Talking about the desirability and results of state operation of railroads, the last batch of facts as to the operation of the state owned Hungarian system under the zone plan, just published in Vienna by Edward Engle, may be of interest. Previous to the introduction of the zone system by the government, the average annual number of passengers carried was 6,000,000. The first year after the zone plan was adopted (1889) the passengers were 16,000,000. The second year they mounted up to 19,000,000, and the third year, that is last year, they reached 28,000,000. The financial result has been equally brilliant, the receipts rising from 9,705,000 florins annually before the adoption of the zone system to 28,300,000 florins this last year. The zone system was simply an extraordinary reduction of rates on a systematic plan. No railroad managed for private profit ever dared to do such a thing or ever would dare to do it The whole story of the zone system is an overwhslming argument for public railroad management as not only the least oppressive but the most progressive system possible.—New Nation. About the time of the annual encampment of the Knights of Pythias, which was held in Kansas City last summer, the newspapers made a great hubbub about the low rates made by competing railroad lines. The Chicago Tribune said: “It costs only IS to travel from Chicago to Kansas City, and several persons, they say, are thinking seriously of going before long.”

In the course of an editorial upon the subject, the Kansas City Journal said: “The lower the rates go for the Knights of Pythias encampment the more people will come here, that is evident. Both the Santa Fe and the Alton are trying to force them down as low as possible. They have got them down where a big business is assured. They may take them lower. Kansas City can rejoice. Whether there will be any after result to the fight can't be told. As a rule when rates go down it is pretty hard to put them back to the old figure again. Three dollars from Chicago to Kansas City is a pretty small sum to pay for a ride; so is 84 from Kansas City to Chicago. These rates should make business. It can’t be expected that they will remain at that figure, but if they stay there just a few weeks there is no prospect of ever getting them back again—not all the way back. ” There are some very important admissions in the fpregoing paragraphs, chief among which is that the lower the rates are the more people there arc who travel. But we see no reason for the statement thot the rates “can’t be expected io remain at that figure.” The demand made by the people’s party that the railroads shall be owned and operated by the people, or the government, if crystalized into law, would give us a permanent feature, as low, or lower rates than those mentioned. In Hungary, where the government owns and operates the railroads under the zone system a passenger can ride any distance, from 148 to 454 miles, in first-class compartment of fast express train, for 83.84, and third-class upon the same train for 81.92. The secondclass fare is 82.80. The full schednle of passenger rates is as follows: Ordinary x i Express Distance, Mixed Trains. Trains. Miles. I IL HL L 11. 111. 16 to 24......1 .40 4 .82 8 .20# .48 j"*) 8~24 25 to 34 00 .48 .80 .721 .00 .30 35 to 44 .80 .04 .40 .98 .80 .48 55 to 01. Z 1.20 .96 .0.) 1.44 1.20 .72 65 to 74. 1.40 1.12 .70 1.68 1.40 .84 75 to 84 1.00 1.28 .80 1.92 1.00 .90 85 to 94 1.80 1.44 .90 2.16 I.BJ 1.08 95 to 104 200 1.00 1.00 2.40 2.00 1.2.) 105 to 114 220 1.70 1.10 2.64 2.20 1.32 115tol8l. 240 1.92 1.20 2.88 240 1.44 182 to 148 2.80 2.12 1.40 &80 2.00 1.68 149 and over 3.20 2.32 1.61 8.84 2.80 L 92 Tie inauguration of these rates and the zone system effected a reduction of rates of from slightly less than 50 per cent, in the case of the shorter distance to within a fraction of 80 per cent in a distance of 454 miles It was expected that the increased volume ot travel would compensate for the lower charges to individuals, and that the total revenue would be equal to that received before the reduction in rates. The.results proved that the Hungarian, government was fully justified in its expectations.' The system was first inaugurated in the summer of 1889, and yet from January 1, 1889, to December 31, 1889, there were 9,097,200 passengers carried, as against 5,587,700 for the year I^BB,while the receipts increased from 13,694,280 to 14,126,840, a net increase of 1482,560 — thus proving that a reduction in rates increases rather than diminishes the revenue receipts and knocking into a cocked hat the arguments used by the tools of plutocracy who are organizing railroad employes into political clubs for the purpose of antagonizing the people’s party. Government ownership and operation of railroads, by reason of the reduction in rates, would make it possible for two or three times as many people to travel and yet so largely increase the revenue of the roads as to make it possible to reduce the hours of labor ana increase the wages of all railroad employes.

LABOUCHERE'S REMEDY.

Why Not Apply the Knife to the Root* of the System That Breeds Millionaires and Paupers. Editor Laboucbere, of London, denounces millionairism in America, and proposes as a remedy the following: “Were I an American, I should meet this tendency by a progressive death duty on all bequests. What I mean is, that the duty would not progress on the sum total left by the individual, but on the sum inherited by the individual. Suppose that a man left £l,000,000, and that by progressive duty doubled itself on every £IOO,OOO inherited by any of his heirs. My plan would work out in this way: If the duty on the first £IOO,OOO were 5 per cent., and he should leave one person £200,000, £15,000 would have to be paid; £35,000 by any one getting £300,000, and

so an until the effect of leaving an excessive amount to one individual would be that the state would become the sole heir. This would prevent the perpetuation of accumulations, and oblige a millionaire to so spread his money on his death that a large number of individuals would profit by it” Why wait till a man becomes a millionaire? Why wait till he dies before applying a remedy for mill ionair ism? For every good reason that can be found for a tax on bequests there can be found ten for a graduated income tax The graduated income tax is not only a prevention, but it is a cure. In fact, why not' have both —the bequest tax and the graduated income tax? If one is good, both are better.— Chicago Sentinel. Why simply prescribe for the symptoms of the disease? Why not abolish the conditions that make millionaires? No man ever earned a million dollars by honest labor. In all cases great fortunes, are the result of special privileges. Why not make a correct diagnosis and apply the remedy to the disease rather than to a symptom of it?— Topeka (Kan.) Advocate. The Advocate, as usual, is on the right trail. If actual use and occupancy were made a prerequisite to a legal claim to land; if usury (interest} were destroyed by the inauguration of the sub-treasury plan and the nationalization of the banking system; if the people themselves owned and operated at cost all public utilities; if, in addition, laws were enacted and enforced which would render it impossible to oft ganize and maintain a trust; if all these things were done an individual would find it difficult to pile up a million dollars in the course of a lifetime. Then if all revenues were raised by a graded tax upon net incomes above a certain sum, say 81,000, and upon estates and legacies, all men would be sure of a living, at least, free of rent, interest and taxes. George C. Ward.

SPEAKING OUT.

Many Democratic Paper* Advocating an American Monetary Basle. We are glad to note that some of the leading democratic papers are speaking out in favor of a purely American monetary basis. Among them is the St Louis Republic, from which we clip the following: “The present congress does well enough to leave coinage legislation alone, that the coming congress may be the freer to act—as, of course, it will act The international conference has served its turn, and every one now understands that there is no hope whatever of agreement between this country and Europe. It may be the honest belief of some that it is unsafe for us to manage our treasury and our mints on any other than a European basis, but the demands of our people and the exigencies of our politics will force an independent American basis, defeating any administration party that opposes it “Tiie American basis will be that of bi-metallism, a currency of coin and coin notea We will never lack gold enough for international trade and for the settlement of home contracts which call for gold payments. Silver and the coin notes of the treasury will answer every other purpose in our trade, giving us a currency which will not admit either sudden contraction or expansion. "The financial policies of the leading nations of Europe are dictated by a few great money-lenders like the Rothschilds It is neither necessary nor expedient that we should accept these policies. In this case, as in a good many others, it is better to trust the American people than the financiers of Europe.” •

PROSPERITY.

It Will Never Dawn Upon the United States Until We Have More Money. Prosperity will never dawn upon the American people until more money is put into the hands of the people. It will do no good, however much is stowed away in bank vaults—it must be in circulation. No matter how much wealth there is in the world, peace and prosperity will never be an enjoyment of the common people until those who produce all the wealth can retain a just and equitable portion of their earnings. The unjust laws which permit the products of the soil, the loom and the workshop to be absorbed by social leeches and grasping corporations while passing from producer to consumer must be repealed before a change for better times can come. And the fellows who made these laws will never unmake them. The same iron hand of greed that grasped our senators and congressmen by the throat and compelled them to create such a system will never lose its grip. The only way in which relief can come is In completely routing the old set A new and clean set of men must be placed in charge of the ship of state and ordered to steer clear of the rocks of Wall street A palliative in the way of tariff reduction, done up in reciprocity sugar, may be given by the old quacks, with an attempt to wash it down with “raw material,” but the people are “on to” this racket and will not be fooled. They know what they want and if they don’t get it, will walk into the halls of congres in 1896 and take it—Emporia (Kan.) Tidings.

—“The vote received by Weaver in the west,” says the Boston Advertiser, “is a death blow to the common opinion, that when two great parties struggle for supremacy in a national election, no third party can hope for electoral votes except in a great national crisis It was argued, that while farmers of the west might vote on ‘side issues’ during state campaigns, they wpuld align themselves with one or the other of the great parties in the national election. That belief is also turned over by the late election. It will be seen, then, the result has proved an ‘overturn’ indeed, and about as complete an overturn the country has seen since 1860.” —Several members of the Alabama legislature recently confessed that a revolution was in progress in the north of the state that was likely to sweep the democracy out of existence.—Fort Worth (Tex.) Advance