People's Pilot, Volume 3, Number 2, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 30 June 1893 — Page 7

t THREE LITTLE PIRATES. Tfcsre are three little pirates, orer the way, 4 Active, relentless and bold; , i Jackie, the leader, sweet little Meg, And Dickie boy, three years old. jl watch them each day as they work at their ; I>Uj, And I wonder at all their misdeeds; See them worry each victim, enlorcc each demand, W As piratic necessity leads. IBnt the crowning event in a record of crime, These pirates so happy and gay, Is a charge and a shout and a man put to rout With “What have you brought us to-day?" These three little pirates, over the way. So active, relentless and bold, TNever lose any chance, never waste any time. As they gather piratical gold. ’Their gold is their pleasure and frolic and fun. Happiness claimed as their right; ’Tis the tribute they take, 'tis the booty they love, And they levy on all in their might; 3ut the greatest event, which they never forego, These three little pirates so gay, Is the desperate run as ev’ning comes on. And “What have you brought us to-day?” As in days long hy, that we read of In books, When pirates infested the seas— The weak, peaceful merchantman, seeking a Port, Paid tribute to just such as these; So now the fond father, weary of work, As he comes to his haven of rest. Pays these pirate demands in all that he has, And knows that the trouble is blest •Tis the happy reward that kills ev’ry care, And makes hardest labor but play. When they meet him with glee, this piratical three, With “What have you brought us to-day? ’ And often I wonder, over the way. If these pirates, so active and bold, Will keep an aocount of the tribute they take And repay it when he has grown old. This tribute of labor and watching and love, Of struggle and sorrow and pain That he pays without murmur, perhaps does not know, And offers again and again. Yes, I know that they will; they are sturdy and true, And when he is aged and gray, Be he ever so sad they will make his heart glad * With the love they will bring him each day. —James Paddock, In Detroit Free Press.

ALITTLE COMEDY OF ERRORS

By SSMORTON.

{Copyrighted, 1891, by S. S. Morton, and published by special arrangement.] CHAPTER XVH.— Continued. “Immediately after our engagement we were separated. Business called him home to New York, and mamma and I returned to Boston. Then fell upon me -the first bitter sorrow of my life. I cannot tell you the story that was brought to me—the cruel, cruel story that forbade me ever to think of him again! I tried to believe it was false, but so fair an aspect of truth did it wear that I was forced to give it credence. Overwhelmed with grief, anger and humiliation on discovering that I had been deceived, I acted foolishly and hastily, my one thought being to sever the bond that had so suddenly grown hateful to me. I sent the engagement ring back to him with the simple request to be released from a promise which I was no longer able to fulfill. Mamma was ill at the time—too ill for me to tell her then of this trouble; and that very day her physician had ordered a sea voyage for her, as the only means of prolonging her life. Our arrangements were hurriedly made, and in two days more we were on the ocean, bound for the south of France. This may have been the reason that no word from Mr. North ever reached me; at all events, I received no answer to my message, and could only infer from his silence that my release was granted unconditionally. “We remained in France until poor mamma’s death last summer; then I returned to Boston, at the request of the administrators, to remain there until the estate could be settled. In the meantime I had learned the truth in regard to the rumor that had caused me to break the engagement, the fatality that had linked his name falsely and unjustly to the story of another man’s wrong-doing. I was thankful for his vindication, even though I might never look upon his face again; and this I scarcely expected to do. 1 saw nothing of him, heard up tiling of him, until, on

“A criminal!”

the very first day of my visit here, we met as strangers.” The resolute voice died away here in something very like a sob. There was silence for a few moments; then Mrs. Maynard said, quietly, though with evident emotion: “It is natural, perhaps, that after the manner of your dismissal—sudden, peremptory and without any explanation whatever—Mr. North should now give you nothing but a stranger’s greeting. Remember, he had sufficient occasion for resentment, being innocent of that of which you believed him to be guilty, and perhaps wholly unconscious of the supposed fault for which you condemned him unheard.” “Oh, I know!” interrupted Miss Hilary, with a sharp accent of pain, that sounded like impatience, in her voice. “There is no defense for my course; I was hasty, irrational, unjust, and I deserve to suffer all the consequences. It isn’t that—it is the evidence of his fickleness; his treachery, his deliberate double-dealing—oh, don’t you understand me, Mrs. Maynard? Believe me,

it was no jealous curiosity on toy port, bat I could not help seeing —>' “1 understand yop, my dear Myra,” mid Mrs. Maynard, calmly, as the distressed girl paused here, at a IO6S for words to continue. “You rightly divined that Mr. North was my avowed anitor; but, happily for me, not yet accepted!” “I have no right to complain of that,” interposed Miss Hilary, her pretty head lifted, her eyes bright with girlish pride. “It is not strange that he should admire you, love you, as his every glance and tone and action revealed that he did; why, he seemed scarcely conscious of my existence, so wholly absorbed was he in you! And to me the strangest part of it all was that he betrayed no recollection of the past, no resentment toward me, no consciousness that we had evjr met before. This pained me, but I accepted it as only what I ought to expect, and I resolved to go away as soon as I could find any reasonable pretext for cutting short my visit here, and henceforth bury out of sight that dead past in which he bore a part. It was only when he looked at me as he did to-day, as a lover might, you know, that I saw the depth of his duplicity; and I think now that I hate him for being so false to us both!” Again there was a little silence, so controlled that no hint would have been given a casual observer of the tragical emotions that were contending in the hearts of these two women. It was Mrs. Maynard that spoke next, in a cold, hard, relentless tone: “We both have great cause to congratulate ourselves, my dear Myra, on having discovered Mr. North’s true character before it was within his power to wreck the life-long happiness of either. I hesitate to tell you the truth that has recently forced itself upon my belief.”

The color died quickly from Miss Hilary’s face again; there was a vague alarm expressed in her trembling tones as she responded hurriedly: “Oh, let me know the worst, Mrs. Maynard! What is he? What has he done?” “It would be nothing," continued Mrs. Maynard, bitterly, “for him to vacillate between two fancies—to alternate and hesitate in his choice between yourself and me—” “Oh, dear Mrs. Maynard!” came in tones of whispered protest from the white-faced listener. “It would be nothing,” repeated Mrs. Maynard in the same hard, bitter tone, “that his conscience would reproach him for, or that society would seriously condemn; therefore, this phase of his conduct does not materially surprise me. But* lam surprised to find that this man, who is habitually so watchful of his own interests, so careful of his own safety, so jealous of his own comfort and happiness, should allow his interest in any matter to carry him to the length of becoming a criminal in the eyes of the law.” “A criminal!” Miss Hilary’s white lips repeated the words breathlessly; then for a brief space refused to speak again. At last she asked tremulously: “What crime has he committed?” “Oh, a very gentlemanly one, indeed,” returned Mrs. Maynard with quiet sarcasm. “It is nothing worse, my dear Myra, than forgery. I have already told you briefly of the recent will contest in which I had so great an interest at stake; I did not tell you, as I feel in duty bound to do now, that I suspected who it was that forged' that will. By his own tacit admission I know that it was Mr. North!”

The calmness was all gone from voice and manner before these last words were fairly uttered. A woman with less pride would have broken down completely; Mrs. Maynard sat with compressed lips and tightly interlaced fingers, holding herself under a rigid control. She did not look at the girl who was sitting so silently on the hassock at her side; but she was vitally conscious of all the and amazement that Myra Hilary’s face so plainly revealed. The fairy castle in the grate suddenly fell into sparkling ruins, sending out a flash of brilliant flame that illuminated the twilighted drawing-room for a moment with the glow of a strong, red light. Then by degrees the illumination subsided into fitful gleams, playing with weird effect of light and shadow over the dim room, and giving a transient glow of color to the two white faces that were turned silently toward the fire. It seemed hours to Myra Hilary, in the blank wretchedness that kept her own lips dumb, before Mrs. Maynard spoke again; but it was in reality only moments, a space easily filled by the slow striking of the great clock in the hall and the tardy response of the drawing-room dock, whose silvery chime fell tinkling upon the silence. As if waiting only for this interruption to cease, Mrs. Maynard resumed as soon as the last stroke died away:

“\ou can imagine with what a shock this revelation fell upon me —this dreadful suspicion which his own words and manner first suggested to my mind, and then tacitly, but unmistakably, confirmed. It was difficult for me to ’•ealize what I was nevertheless forced to believe. And then I blamed myself far more than him, for I feared that it was my eagerness to secure that fortune that had led him on to take this fatal and desperate step. You know what reason I have to wish for an independent fortune; you have seen with your own eyes the unhappiness of my life here, under the same roof with the man who has hated me with a causeless, insane hatred from the day of my marriage to liis brother, and who, during the four years of my widowhood, when the conditions of my husband’s will made my inheritance of the pittance that he allowed me dependent upon my continued residence here, has abused to the utmost his invalid’s privilege to make existence a burden to me. Can you wonder that I saw a welcome release in the chance of possessing that childless old woman’s wealth, which she had conditionally promised me over and over again should be mine? And it was for this, I thought, to secure to me the prize that I coveted so eagerly, that

he hod committed this ’deed! You can perhaps imagine the agony of selfreproach that this thought brought to me. Then by degrees the scope and possibilities of his motives were revealed to me; my perception of his character and his capabilities widened. By a wonderful and unexpected turn of the wheel of fortune, the missing niece and heir-at-law was discovered; the proofs of her identity and whereabouts fell into his hands. Instantly his active sympathies were all transferred from my interests to Annie Dupont's. The desire to ingratiate himself with the successful heiress would be perhaps a natural and sufficient motive for this change in him; but that another and still stronger motive exists, I have become reasonably convinced. And this, my dear Myra, is the keynote of my warning to you.” “To me?” Miss Hilary repeated the words incredulously with a little start of amazement “To me? Why, Mrs. Maynard, what have I to do with this matter?” “Perhaps I can satisfy you that yon have a very important part to play in this interesting little drama,” returned Mrs. Maynard, with a rather forced smile. “I date Mr. North’s sudden interest in you, which you yourself noticed for the first time, to a certain day this week when we drove by the Clement house and saw him about to step into a carriage that was waiting there. With him was a man who had called here an hour before, and left the house in company with Mr. North; the mysterious man through whom all the recent discoveries about Annie Dupont were made. Mr. North had just had a private interview with this man, and doubtlesa had heard his story. And, as we drove slowly past, it was you that absorbed his whole attention; you at whom he gazed with such rapt interest that he did not see me at all. I bowed to him as usual; he paid no heed; his eyes were fixed upon your face, while a strange excitement and agitation were apparent in his whole

MYRA CLASPED HER HANDS.

manner. I did not see him again until he called this morning. During the few moments that we were alone in the conservatory he told me that Annie Dupont had been discovered, and that he should soon be in possession of all the evidence necessary to establish her legal position and rights; told me exultingly, as if he took a cruel pleasure in taunting me with my defeat. He little knew that I had divined the truth, the secret that he was so jealously guarding, that he had discovered Annie Dupont under my own roof!” Again Myra started with visible amazement. There was no clearly defined perception of Mrs. Maynard’s meaning in her mind, yet the words had been spoken with too much significance to fail utterly in impressing her with their suggestive trend. She repeated them mechanically, with vague speculation in her tones: “Under your own roof?” “In you, my dear Myra,” continued Mrs. Maynard, her white lips smiling faintly as she returned the girl’s inquiring gaze. “Don’t ask me for proof. I know it; partly by intuition and partly by an endless chain of trifles that would vanish into thin air if I were to attempt to put them into words, but which are nevertheless as convincing to my mind as the most palpable evidence could be. I cannot be mistaken; I feel, I know, that it is so!”

“I will not ask for proofs, Mrs. Maynard,” said Miss Hilary, still bewildered and incredulous. Y“I will simply ask you how this can be true. Oh, it seems utterly impossible! I cannot believe itl” she added quickly, waving her hands toward the fire with a resolute gesture of rejection. “My dear Myra, it shows a very limited knowledge of life to say that anything is impossible,” returned Mrs. Maynard, with a slow shake of her head. “But for my familiarity with your early history, I might have considered my present theory improbable, to say the least; as it is, I see no reason to doubt it. You were very young when Mrs. Hilary adopted you, were you not?” “So young,” answered Myra, with a little break in her voice, “that I never realized that she was not my own mother.” “Did she ever tell you”—Mrs. Maynard’s voice was slightly unsteady as she asked this question, while all her nerves were tense with anxiety—“anything about your parents?” “Nothing, except that they were dear friends of hers, and were both dead. But, my dear Mrs. Maynard”—Myra clahped her hands and laid them on the arm of Mrs. Maynard’s chair while she looked earnestly into that lady’s sac ‘‘if there were such a history as this connected with me, 1 should have learned something of it long ago. I cannot believe anything so wildly improbable.” “But, if it be true, what then, Myra?” questioned Mrs. Maynard quietly, a sit> gular little smile on her face as she looked directly into the girl’s eyes. “You will be a rich woman; rich enough, perhaps, to hold the allegiance of this self-lovCr, who has at last chosen between us. Oh, how bitter that sounds! But it was the dread of seeing you sac-

rificed to bis mercenary selfishness that forced me to speak these words of warning and enlightenment. My responsibility ends here. Yon are free to deal with him as you think best, knowing all that he has done and is capable of yet doing if his selfish ends require it.” Miss Hilary rose quickly from the low hassock and stood facing Mrs. Maynard, her hands clasped, her head thrown back, her eyes glowing like stars. Bhe was very pale but perfectly composed, and when she spoke her voice was firm and free from the slightest trace of excitement - “I am grateful to you, Mrs. Maynard,” she said, “deeply grateful for the kindness that prompted you to speak as you have done. lam scarcely able yet to realize all that you have told me; I only know that it is very, very dreadfuil But I can never think of Mr. North again except with feelings of utter abhorrence. Even gratitude would be impossible, if what you have suggested should prove to be true. I would forego any good fortune, rather than receive tit at his hands! Can we not let him know, Mrs. Maynard, how plainly we see aU his wickedness? How utterly we condemn him? Need we go on in this preposterous way, affecting to countenance him when we know him to be so unworthy?” “No!” exclaimed Mrs. Maynard, with sudden resolution. “We will act this farce no longer. The very next time he comes here we will denounce him as he deserves.” Early the following morning, however, instead of a call from the perfidious North, Mrs. Maynard received this hurried note: "My Dear Mrs. Maynard: “Before this reaches you I shall be en route to Charleston, on business Intimately concerning yourself. When I return I will report to you In person. Faithfully yours, "A. North." [to be continued.]

PLANTING NEW FORESTS.

PenniylTsula Woods Cut Away to Form Coal-IVltne Props. In the coal regions of Pennsylvania nearly every piece of available timber has been cut away to form props for the archways and for various other uses in connection with coal mining, says Meehan’s Monthly. Nearly every stick and every piece of plank used in these regions now all have to be brought from a distance. The Girard estate has endeavored to solve the problem by making some small plantations as a test. Eight years ago a large number of larches and Scotch pines were planted; plow furrows were simply driven through the underbrush growing up where the old forest had been cut away and one-year-old seedling larches and pines planted. The larches now average some seventeen or eighteen feet high and are particularly healthy and thrifty. There can be no doubt, from these experiments, that forest planting in these regions would be an undoubted success. It may be noted that the larch was the most popular of forest trees in the early planting on the western prairie, but the leaves were attacked by a fungus; the timber, therefore, did not properly mature. It finally fell into disfavor for forest planting. On these early experiments the larch has suffered much in reputation, but it must be remembered that the western prairies furnish unfavorable conditions for the larch. It is a mountain tree, one thriving in comparatively poor soils, and the low altitude and rich earth of the western prairies was entirely foreign to its nature. Girard plantings are some fourteen hundred or fifteen hundred feet above the level of the sea; these are the conditions of its own home, and the remarkable healthiness of these trees show that they appreciate the position in which they find themselves.

A PREHISTORIC HABIT.

Dried Herbs Did Duty for Tobacco Long Before Raleigh'* Time. The habit of smoking dried herbs in pipes is evidently of enormous antiquity, for both in the British islands and in many parts of Europe and Asia, to say nothing of America, the supposed native land of smoking, pipes of soap stone and red clay, which could not have been used for any other purpose than the burning of some form of fragrant weed,have been discovered in graves and tumuli which date far beyond the dawn of history. With regard to these islands, Pearson’s Weekly thinks there is not the slightest doubt that smoking was practiced long before tobacco was introduced by Hawkins and Raleigh. In the Historic of Plantes, published in 1678, occurs the passage: “The perfume of dried leaves (of coltsfoote) laid upon quicke coles taken into the mouth of a funnell or tunnell helpeth such as are troubled with shortness, of winde and fetch theyreo breath thicke and often.” This points only to the medicinal use of the practice; but if there were any &oubt as to the antiquity of smoking for pleasure among our ancestors it would be disposed of by the following statement of Dr. Petrie, one of the most learned of Irish antiquarians. He says: “Smokiag pipes of bronze are frequently found in our Irish tumuli or sepulchral mounds of the most remote antiquity. On the monument of Donough O'Brien, king of Thommond, who was killed in 1267, and fnterred in the abbey of Corcumrae, in the county of Clare, he is represented in the usual recumbent posture with the short pipe or dhudeen in his mouth.”

Too Modest.

11 e—Give me a kiss. She —You should be ashamed of yourself. “Ashamed of what?” “Of asking for a kiss when you have such a chance to take one.**—Texas Siftings.

A Frightful Situation.

First Anarchist—Votvasdere madder mit Sehimmelspcck? Second Anarchist—His vise vill gif him to a boliceman ohs he don’d come home; und ohs he comes home she xriU make him vork!—Puck. Oveb 1,700 different kinds of soup are known.

DAD AND THE DOLLAR.

; Results of Bad Financial Teachings—Only Sixty-four Cent*. Eh?—Lesson on Silver Enforced With Fists. [Enter boy with badly bruised face and eye swelled shut] “My son, what on earth doe# this mean?” * “It means that Tom Jones lied to me.” “But you should never fight I must punish you severely.” I “He hit me first and called you an old turncoat, and “Called me an old turncoat?” “Yes. It was this way, pa. He told me he would give me a dollar to saw a cord of wood, then when I got it dono he would only pay me 64 cents ” “Only 64 cents!” “That is all he would pay me.” “Perhaps you misunderstood him, my Bon.” | “No I didn't I guess I know 64 cents when I see it” "I mean about the price.” “No, sir, he said he would give me a dollar. ” | “Well, put your hat on, my son. I’ll go over and see that he pays you a doli lar, according to contract." Going they meet boy (badly battered) accompanied by his father. | “There's Tom, pa." Jones —How’s this? Your son assaulted mine, and I've come to demand satisfaction. I Smith—Yes, and so have I. Your lazy runt of a boy can’t hire my boy ! and agree to pay him a dollar a day j and then only pay him 04 cents. Besides, lie assaulted my boy first. Jones—You’re a liar, you son of a [They both clinch and so do the hoys.] For a few minutes the air is blue with profanity and hair. Then the crowd, which has assembled, separj ates them. [Bystander picks up silver ; dollar and hands it to Smith’s son.] “Here’s a dollar dropped out of your pocket during the scuttle.” | [Boy takes it.] “That is the same dollar I paid him for sawing wood—-boo-ho!” Smith boy—’Tain’t a dollar. It’s only 64 cents Smith —Is that what the Jones boy paid you, my son? “Yes, pa, it is.” Smith—Mr. Jones, I beg your pardon I see through it all now. “My son, that is a dollar. How ridiculous you have made me appear.” “Pa, it was only last week I heard you argue for an hour that silver dollars are worth only 6* cents, and that it is a disgrace to coin them, and ” “Oh! Ah! Well! you see—a—” “No I don’t see Ah! with both eyes about swelled shut, now. I’ll lick h—l out —” “Sh! my boy—a—yon must beg his pardon—” “What! Be swindled out of 86 cents, then be pulverized, then ask pardon— I’ll be ramshackled if I’ll do it —I —” “My son. it is all a mistake. That is a dollar and will buy as much as any other dollar and is just as good as any other dollar.” “Then why did you say last week it it is a dishonest dollar?” “Oh! I—ah; well, Pye been taught by the politicians newspapers and office seekers to say so, and —” “Is that all the reason you had for saying so?” “My son, you are a fright.” “Pa, you look as though you had been through a thrashing machine.” Jones —And it’s all on account of the tariff. Smith to Jones —Don’t you think it’s time to stop this rot about a silver dollar not being worth as much as a gold one. “You’re right; I do. Let’s give the boys a dollar apiece and go and join the populists.” “Agreed.”—Nonconformist.

CRAZY QUILT CURRENCY.

Ten Kind* of Money, No Two of Them of the Haiue Legal Staton The complex character of our circulation will be more fully understood by considering the qualities imparted by law to each of its constituent parts. 1. The gold coins of the United States are full legal tender to any amount when of standard weight; if below the standard weight they are legal tender at valuation in proportion to their actual weight. 2. .Standard silver dollars are legal tehder to any amount, except where otherwise expressly stipulated in the contract. 8. The subsidiary silver coin are legal tender to the amount of $10; they are redeemable in lawful money by the treasurer or any assistant treasurer of the United States, when presented in sums of 820 or multiples thereof. 4. Minor coins are legal tender to the amount of twenty-five cents; they also are redeemable in lawful money if presented in sums of not less than S2O. 5. United States notes were made a legal tender by the acts authorizing their issue, except for duties on imports and for payment of interest on the public debt. Since the resumption of specie payments on January 1, 187$*, they have been received for duties on imports. They are redeemable in. gold or silver coin .at the office of the assistant treasurer of the United States at New York, if presented: in sums, of not less than SSO.

6. The treasury notes issued in payment for silver bullion purchased under the act of July 14, 1800, ant a full legal tender except when otherwise expressly stipulated in the contract; they are redeemable in gold or silver coin at the discretion of the secretary of the treasury. It has been the policy of the department to redeem them in gold coin if so demanded by the holder. 7. Gold and silver certificates are receivable for customs duties, taxes and all public dues; they represent the kind of coin deposited and reserved in the treasury for their redemption; they are not made a legal tender by the acts of congress authorizing their issue. 8. Currency certificates are issued upon the deposit of United States notes in sums of £IO,OOO and are made payable to order of the depositors; they .are redeemed in the kind of money deposited and are not a legal tender. 9. National bank notes are secured by deposit of United States interest

bearing bonds with the treasurer of tha United Stotes; they are redeemable in lawful money bnt are not a legal tender, although receivable for all public dues except duties on imports; and also .for aU salaries and other debts and demands owing to individuals, corporations and associations within the United States, except interest on the public debt and in redemption of national currency. They are also receivable at par for any debt or Hability due to any national banking association. All of the various forms of money above described, excepting national bank notes, are available as part of the lawful money reserve held by national banking associations It is thus apparent that we have ten varieties of coin and paper circulating as money, no two of which are subject to the same requirements as to redemption nor clothed with the same legal tender and debt paying qualities.

INTRINSIC VALUE.

Th« Present Value of Gold Is Not Intrinsic, But Arbitrary aud Fictitious. When “money changers” invent arguments to defend their system of plunder, and subsidize writers to give them rational import, the student of finance and political economy can afford to smile, but when a person, apparently honest, openly defends the metallic superstition of a single gold standard in the latter quarter of the nineteenth century, and that, too, with an ability and spirit deserving of a better cause, the very gods (if there are any) must weep in despair. Ellen B. Dietrick, in the issue of June 1, dwells upon the intrinsic value of gold and says: “There is no objection to promises to pay restricted to the extent of a solid ability to pay.” Pay what! intrinsic value? If so, gold possessing no intrinsic value whatever has no “solid ability” to pay. It has commodity and monetary values, separate and distinct, but intrinsic value, none. Do you mean pay wealth? If so, gold has not, even with its combined monetary and commercial values, the solid ability, by virtuo of its limitation, to pay one-tenth of the world’s obligations. There are thousands who never see a gold dollar or its representative, yet who produce wealth in corn, potatoes, clothing, etc., each and all exchangeable through money principally, and such is my dislike for gold I never take it except under protest, and if tho thing wore boycotted universally it would have neither monetary or commercial value except to dentists or jewelers. I have no desire to bring in any side issues, Buch as wages, pint measures, or the like; but I have dealt with one point only, Intrinsic value. Those properties which sustain life—sunshine, water and air—have no commercial value because of their abundunce. Their value is, therefore, intrinsic exclusively. The value of gold is fictitious monetary value, which, when destroyed, reduces the metal to a commodity less valuable than many other metals. Gold plays the part of watered stock in the world’s markets, and it is only a question of common sense when the people will repudiate, or rather, demonetize all metals.—J. C. Hannon, in Twentieth Century.

CHOKE THEM OFF.

Money Made of Paper or Green Ghees* Just as Good as that Made of Gold. We hope sometime to see congress wise enough and patriotic enough to take the gold-bugs by their rascallythroats and choke their infernal wind off! How? Restore the sole right to issue money to Uncle Bam—and that money will lie just as good If made of paper or of green cheese as of gold. The intrinsic or commodity value of the metal in a $lO coin has nothing to do with its debt-paying or purchasing power. If the gold-bugs don’t believe it, demonetize goldi and prove it to them! We do not believe in metal money, nor in “basing” ten or twenty dollars of paper on one of coin—for the pur-, pose of enabling sharks to bring on a panic when they see fit, to line their coffers at the expense of the people. Nor do we believe iim basing money on debt (government or other bonds), for that necessitates debt If it had not been for the machination and tinkering of the national bankers there would not be a United States government bond in existence to-day—nor would any have been issued. The government issued greenbacks during the war and swapped its interestbearing notes (bonds) for its non-in-teaest-bearing notes(greenbacks). And that’s the way the government got money to carry on tine war! Gold went into hiding, and not a soldier received it after the first pay~«)ay.—Chicago Free Trader.

SLAVERY.

There Are More'Slave* In the (Jolted States-, To-day Than There Were in 1801. There are more slaves to-day in the> United States, than ever before. When, Lincoln called for volunteers, 4,000,000) of slaves ga<ve trp all their earnings,, above what they mast necessarily comsume for food and clothing, to masters. Let us see hour many we have to-day. The bureau of statistics shows 9,000,000mortgages in the country, averaging *450, aggregating £4,050,000,000. Theannual interest on this amount, at T per cent, is $333,500,000, which must be. paid by somebody. If the wealthy paypart of it direct, they make it, off the* laboring class, so the laborer has it to» pay after- all. The average laborercaiinot count on saving, above the. living expenses of his family, more than 25 cents per day, and at this cate-it will take all the saving of 8, 600*000 man. Ao pay the annual interest on these mortgages. Since at least fiw persons, constitute the family of each one of these men it means that 18,000,000 of people are to be restricted to the barest necessities of life, in order- to meet the demands of tins mortgage system. A million of the best sons of America died or received wounds that slavery j might be eradicated from our country, i and eighteen jtnilliou wage slaves still ! struggle under hard masters in this ' lan-.l of the free. —Mount Vernon (£U>) ‘ Progressive Farmer.