People's Pilot, Volume 3, Number 13, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 15 September 1893 — Page 7

THE ANXIOUS LOVER. X saw • damsel in a somber room, Laid down in beds of purple violet, ▲nd pale, sweet roses scenting all the gloom; ▲nd I thought: This is a gray sunset Of days of loving life. Shall he who stands Beside her bier, in sorrow for his love, Se first in heaven to clasp her gentle hands To bow with her before the Lord above? If love can die, let my heart be as cold As Galatea's was before the words Of the warm sculptor drew it from the mold ▲nd made her hear the sound of singing birds: Love’s supshine and Jove's shadows are they all/ Like April sun and shadow on the earth? If love can die seeing a funeral pall, Would I had strangled it in its sad birtht X know that the sweet spring will surely go And leave no trace, except a blossom dry: I know that life will pass us passes snow When March winds blow and river floods are high: X know that all the maples on the hill That fire the air with flame to ashes burn: X know that all the singing birds that fill The air with song to silent dust will turn. Oh! love, my love, can it, then, ever be That thou or I may gaze upon love’s death? That thou shalt some day sad and silently Look on me dumb and cold and without breath? Or shall I see thee lying white and wan, Like yonder damsel in the flower bed, And only say: “My lady sweet has gone; She’s lost to me: she’s dead—what meaneth dead?” If love can die, then I will no more look Into thy eyes, and see thy pure thoughts there, Nor will I read in any poet's book Of all the things that poets make so fair. If love can die, the poet’s art is vain, And thy blue eyes might well be blossoms blue, ▲nd tliy soft tears be only senseless rain. If love can die, like flowers and soulless dew. I care not for thy smile, if love can die; ■ If I must leave thee, let me leave thee now. Shall I not know thee, if in Heaven high I enter and before the Holy bow? Shalt thou not know me when before the throne Thou, white-robed one, shalt enter into light’ I cannot think the Lord of Love has sown His precious seed to make but one day bright “Would I were dead, if death could be the end Of all the loving that makes life so fair! If love can die, I pray the sun may send ▲n arrow through my head, that death may tear ▲ way my soul, and make me soon forget The fair, sweet hope of love’s eternal day, Which yet might die like purple violet Strewn on the robe of her that passed away! ▲h! love, my love, when I look in thy eyes, And hear thy voice, like softened homely bells. 'Coming to one who long has sent up sighs From foreign lands to be where his love dwells, " The earth may crumble, but our love and we Shall live forever. This is true!” I cry. My heart lifts up itself in ecstasy; " Life were not life if our great love could die.” —Maurice F. Egan, in Boston Pilot.

WARING'S

By PERIL.

Carj Charges kinq. U.S. ARMY J

[Copyright, 1893, by J. B. Lippincott,. Co., and published by special arrangement.] V. All that day the storm raged in fury; the levee road was blocked in places by the boughs torn from overhanging trees, and here, there and everywhere turned into a quagmire by the torrents that could find no adequate egress to the northward swamps. For over a mile above the barracks it looked like one vast canal, and by nine o’clock it was utterly impassable. No cars were running on the dilapidated road to the “half-way house,” whatever they might be doing beyond. There was only one means of communication between the garrison and the town, and that on horseback along the crestof the levee, and people in the secondstory windows of the store and dwelling houses along the other side of the way, driven aloft by the drenched condition of the ground floor, were surprised to see the number of times some Yankee soldier or other made the dismal trip. Cram, with a party of four, was perhaps the first Before the dripping sentries of the old guard were relieved at nine o’clock every man and woman at the barracks was aware that foul murder had been done during the night, and that old Lascelles, slain by some unknown hand, slashed and hacked in a dozen places, according to the stories afloat, lay in his gloomy old library up the levee road, with a flood already a foot deep wiping out from the grounds about the house all traces of his assailants. Dr. Denslow, in examining the body, found just one deep, downward stab, entering above the upper rib and doubtless reaching the heart—a stab made by a long, straight, sharp, two-edged blade. He had been dead evidently some hours when discovered by Cram, who had now gone to town to warn the authorities, old Brax meantime having taken upon himself the responsibility of placing a guard at the house, with orders to keep Alphonse and his mother in and everybody else out. It is hardly worth while to waste “time on the various theories advanced in the garrison as to the cause and means of the dreadful climax. That Doyle should be away from the post provoked neither comment nor speculation; he was not connected In any way with the tragedy. But the fact that Mr. Waring was absent all night, coupled with the stories of his devotions to madame, was to several minds prima facie evidence that his was the bloody hand that wrought the deed — that he was now a fugitive from justice, and Mme. Lascelles, beyond -doubt, the guilty partner of his flight. Everybody knew by this time of their being together much of the morning: how could people help knowing, when Dryden had seen them? In his elegantly jocular way, Dryden was already condoling with Ferry on the probable loss of his Hatfield clothes, and comforting him with the assurance that they always gave a feller a new black suit to be hanged in, so he might get his duds back after all, only they must get Waring first. Jeffers doubtless would have been besieged with questions but for Cram’s foresight: his master had ordered him to .accompany him to town. In-silence a second time the little

party rode away, passing the flooded homestead where lay the murdered man, then, farther on, gazing in mute curiosity at the closed shutters of the premises some infantry satirists had already christened “the dove-cot.” What cared they for him or his objectionable helpmate? Still, they could not but note how gloomy and deserted it all appeared, with two feet of water Upning the garden wall. Summoned by his master, Jeffers knuckled his oilskin hat-brim and pointed out the spot where Mr. Waring stood when he knocked the cabman into the mud, but Jeffers’ tongue was tied and his cockney volubility gone. The tracks made by Cram’s wagon up the dope were already washed out. Bending forward to dodge the blinding storm, the party pushed along the embankment until at last the avenues and alleys to the right gave proof of better drainage. At Rampart street they separated, Pierce going on to report the tragedy to the police, Cram turning to his right and following the broad thoroughfare another mile, until Jeffers, indicating a big, old-fashioned, broad-gallened southern house standing in the midst of grounds once trim and handsome, but now showing signs of neglect and penury, simply said: “ ’Ere, sir.” And here the party dismounted. Cram entered the gate and pulled a clanging bell. The door was almost instantly opened by a colored girl, at whose side, with eager joyous face, was

the pretty child he l?ad seen so often playing about the Lascelles homestead, and the eager joyous look faded instantly away. “She t’ink it M’sieur Vareeng who comes to arrive,” explained the smiling colored girl. “Ah! It is Mme. d'Hervilly I wish to see,” answered Cram, briefly. “Please take her my card.” And, throwing off his dripping rain coat and tossing it to Jeffers, who had followed to the veranda, the captain stepped within the hall and held forth his hands to Nin Nin, begging her to come to him who was so good a friend of Mr. Waring. But she would not. The tears of disappointment were in the dark eyes as the little one turned and ran away. Cram could hear the gentle.soothingtonesof the mother striving to console her little one—the one widowed and the other orphaned by the tidings he bore. Even then he noted how musical, how full of rich melody, was that soft Creole voice. And then Mme. d’Hervilly appeared, a stately, dignified, picturesque gentlewoman of perhaps fifty years. She greeted him with punctilious civility, but with manner as distant as her words were few.

•‘I have come on a trying errand,” he began, when she held up a slender, jeweled hand. “Pardon. Permettez Mme. Lascelles,” she called, and before Cram could find words to interpose, a servant was speeding to summon the very woman he had hoped not to have to see. “Oh, madam,” he murmured low, hurriedly, “I deplore my ignorance. I cannot speak French. Try to understand me. Mr. Lascelles is home, dangerously stricken. I fear the worst. You must tell her.” “’Ome! Labas? C’est impossible.” “It is true,” he burst in, for the swish of silken skirt was heard down the long passage. “11 est mort —mort,” he whispered, mustering up what little French he knew and then cursing himself for an imbecile. “Mort! O del!” The words came with a shriek of anguish from the lips of the elder woman and were echoed by a scream from beyond. In an instant, wild-eyed, horror-stricken, Emilie Lascelles had sprung up to her tottering mother’s side. “When? What mean you?” she gasped. “Mme. Lascelles,” he sadly spoke, “I had hoped to spare you this, but it is too late now. Mr. Lascelles was found lying on the sofa in his library this morning. He had died hours before, during the night.” And then he had to spring and catch the fainting woman in his arms. She was still moaning and only semi-con-scious when the old family doctor and her brother, Pierre d’Hervilly, arrived. Half an hour later Cram astonished the aids-de-camp and other bored staff officials by appearing at the general loafing room at headquarters. To the chorus of inquiry as to what brought him up in such a storm he made brief reply, and then asked immediately to speak with the adjutant general and Lieut. Reynolds, and, to the disgust and mystification of all the others, he disappeared with these into an adjoining room. There he briefly told the former of the murder, and then asked for a word with the junior. Reynolds was a character. Tall, handsome and distinguished, he had served throughout the war as a volunteer, doing no end of good work, and getting many a word of praise, but, as all his service was as a staff officer, it was his general who reaped thq reward of his labors. He had risen, of course, to the rank of major hi the staff in the

volunteers, and everybody had prophesied that ha would be appointed a major in the adjutant or inspector general’s department in the permanent establishment. But there were not enough places by any means, and the few vacancies went to men who knew better how to work for themselves. “Take a lieutenancy now, and we wiU fix you by and by,” was the suggestion, and so it resulted that here he was three years after-the war wearing the modest strap of a second lieutenant, doing the duties and accepting the responsibilities of a far higher grade, and being patronized by seniors who were as much his inferiors in rank as they were in ability during the war days. Everybody said it was a shame, and nobody helped to better his lot. He was a man whose counsel was valuable on all manner of subjects. Among other things, he was well versed in all that pertained to the code of honor as it existed in the ante-bellum days,— had himself been “out,” and, as was weH known, had but recently officiated as second for an officer who had need of his services. He and Waring were friends from the start, and Cram counted on tidings of his absent subaltern in appealing to him. Great, therefore, was his consternation when in reply to his inquiry Reynolds promptly answered that he had neither seen nor heard from Waring in over forty-eight hours. This was a facer. “What’s wrong, Cram? 1 1

A STIFFENING HUMAN SHAPE.

“Read that,” said the captain, placing a daintily-written note in the aid-de-camp’s hand. It was brief but explicit: “Col. Braxton: Twice have I warned you that the attentions of your Lieut. Waring to Mme. Lascelles meant mischief. This morning, under pretense of visiting her mother, she left the house In a cab, but In half an hour was seen driving with Mr. Waring. This has been, as I have reason to know, promptly carried to M. Lascelles by people whom he had employed for the purpose. I could have told you last night that M. Lascelles' friends had notified Lieut. Waring that a duel would be exacted should he be seen with madame again, and now It will certainly come. You have seen fit to scorn my warnings hitherto, the result Is on your head." There was no signature whatever. “Who wrote this rot?” asked Reynolds. “It seems, to me I’ve seen that hand before.” “So have I, and pitched the trash into the fire, as I do everything anonymous that comes my way. But Brax says that this is the second or third, and he’s worried about it, and thinks there may be truth in the story.” “As to the duel, or as to the devotions to madame?” asked Reynolds, calmly. “We-11, both, and we thought you would be most apt to know whether a fight was on. Waring promised to return to the post on taps last night. Instead of that, he is gone—God knows where—and the old man, the reputed challenger, lies dead at his home. Isn’t that ugly?” Reynold’s face grew very grave. “Who last saw Waring, that you know of?”

“My man Jeffers left him on Canal street just after dark last night. He was then going to dine with friends at the St. Charles.” “The Allertons?” “Yes.” “Then wait till I see the chief, and I’ll go with you. Say nothing about this matter yet.” Reynolds was gone but a moment. A little later Cram and the aid were at the St. Charles rotunda, their cards sent up to the Allertons’ rooms. Presently down came the bell-boy. Would the gentlemen walk up to the parlor? This was awkward. They wanted to see Allerton himself, and Cram felt morally confident that Miss Flora Gwendolen would be on hand to welcome and chat with so distinguished a looking fellow as Reynolds. There was no help for it, however. It would be possible to draw off the head of the family after a brief call upon the ladies. Just as they were leaving the marble-floored rotunda, a short, swarthy man in “pepper-and-salt” business suit touched Cram on the arm, begged a word, and handed him a card. “A detective—already?” asked Cram, in surprise. “I was with the chief when Lieut. Pierce came in to report the matter,” was the brief response, “and I came here to see your man. He is reluctant to tell what he knows without your consent. Could you have him leave the horses with your orderly below and come up here a moment?” “Why, certainly, if you wish; but I can’t see why,” said Cram, surprised. “You will see, sir, in a moment.” And then Jeffers, with white, troubled face, appeared, and twiste'd his wet hat-brim in nervous worriment. “Now, what do you want of him?” asked Cram: “Ask him, sir, who was the man who slipped a greenback into his hand at the ladies’ entrance last evening. What did he want of him?” Jeffers turned a greenish yellow. His every impulse was to lie. and the detective saw it. “You need not lie, Jeffers,” he said,

very quietly. *Tt will da no good. I saw the men. I can tell your master who one of them was, and possibly lay my hands on the second when he la wanted; but I want you to tell and to explain what that greenback meant.”Then Jeffers broke down and merely blubbered. “Hi meant no ’arm, sir. Hi never dreamed there was hany thing wrong. *Twas Mr. Lascelles, sir. ’E said ’e came to thank me for ’elping ’is lady, sir. Then ’e wanted to see Mr. Warink, sir." “Why didn’t you tell me of this before?” demanded the captain, sternly. “You know what happened this morning.” “Hi didn’t want to ’ave Mr. Warink suspected, sir,” was poor Jeffers’ halftearful explanation, as Mr. Allerton suddenly entered the little hall-way room. The grave, troubled faces caught his eye at once. “Is anything wrong?” he Inquired, anxiously. “I hope Waring is all right. I tried to induce him not to start, but he said he had promised and must go." “What time did he leave you, Mr. Allerton?” asked Cram, oontroling as much as possible the tremor of his voice. “Soon after the storm broke, —about nine-thirty, I should say. He tried to get a cab earlier, but the drivers wouldn’t agree to go down for anything less than a small fortune. Luckily, his Creole friends had a carriage." “His what?” “His friends frorn near the barracks. They were here when We caind down into the rotunda to smoke after dinner.” Cram felt his legs and feet grow cold and a chill run up his spine. “Who were they? Did you cutch their names?” “Only one. I was introduced as they were about to drive away. A little old fellow with elaborate manners —a M. Lascelles.” “And Waring drove away with him?” “Yes, with him and one other. Seemed to be a friend of Lascelles. Drove off in a closed carriage with a driver all done up in rubber and oilskin, who said he perfectly knew the road. Why, what’s gone amiss?” [to bi contorted.]

THE BEAVER’S TEETH.

Sharp Chisels, They Are Constantly Nourished and Never Grow Dull. As in every “gnawer,” the beaver’s skull is armed with two long chisellike teeth in each jaw, says St. Nicholas. These teeth are exceeding powerful, and are to a beaver what an ax is to a woodsman. One such tooth taken from the lower jaw of a mediumsized skull (they can be removed without difficulty, unlike the most of ours) is bent into nearly a semicircle, and measures five inches along its outer curve. Only one inch of this length projects from the skull. The corresponding one from the upper jaw is bent into more than a complete halfcircle, and measures upon its outer face four inches, of which less than an inch protrudes from its bone casing. In width each tooth is five-eighths of an inch. Examination of one of them reveals the secret of how a beaver can perform such feats as chopping down a birch tree sixteen inches in diameter, not to speak of softer woods, like the basswood, of much greater size. The tooth is entnposed of two materials. Along the outer face or front of the tooth is a thin plate of exceeding hard enamel; on the inner, forming the body of the tooth, is a substance called dentine. The dentine being softer, wears away with use; the thin enamel remains comparatively unworn, so that the tooth assumes the shape of a keen chisel that never grows dull. The tooth is hollow at the base for half its length, and is filled with a nourishing substance which keeps it constantly growing. Thus, not only is the natural wearing away provided against, but a certain amount of wear becomes an actual necessity. With such instruments, the beaver is admirably fitted for obtaining its natural food, the bark of shrubs and trees.

Rats In Paris.

The town rat, which of all animals h generally considered the one most outside of our affection, is converted into a useful member of society in the French capital. Here these creatures are coHected and placed in the great pond, where the carcass refuse of the city is thrown. These remains are quickly demolished by the rats, who leave only untainted skeletons or bones behind them. The demolishers are, in their turn, themselves destroyed. Four times a year a great battue is effected, and when next the little creatures appear it is in the form of that article of world-wide admiration—the so-called “kid” glove.

When Women Had Rights.

In the fifteenth century as well as in the nineteenth, unless the exchange which makes this statement is mistaken, the doors of universities were open to women not only to study but to teach within their sacred precincts. In the University of Salamanca she had a place, and when Isabella, of Spain, desired to acquire the Latin tongue it was to a woman that she turned for a tutor. In Italy, even in the thirteenth' century, a notable Florentine lady won the palm of oratory in a public contest in Florence with learned doctors from all over the world.

Cause for Grief.

“My good man,” inquired the tenderhearted old lady, “are you in any trouble? Why do you stand there wringing your hands?” “ ’Cause,” replied the tramp, “I jest washed ’em.”—N. Y. Sun.

A Sure Sign.

Julia—Do you think she gets along well with her husband? Mamie—No. She is always talking about the good times she used to have before she was married. —Truth. Don’t complain of your wife's extra*' agance, with a cigar ia year aawtik

STICK BY THE OLD RATIO.

No CooecMion* Should Bo Mode to the Gold-Bugs-Let There Be a Forward Movement AU Along the Line. The proposition of changing the ratio of silver in the standard dollar has found great favor in some quarters friendly to the white metal This is really the most impracticable solution of the problem yet presented. The ratio, based on so-called intrinsic value, which prevails to-day may not be that which will prevail three months from now. If the gold-bugs are permitted to win a decisive victory now, what is to prevent their keeping up their onslaughts? They ought to be met and routed, horse, foot and dragoons. Why concede any point? The addition of a fourth or more to the bulk of the silver dollar would relieve that coin of its present symmetry and make it bulky and inconvenient to handle. Besides, it would be necessary to call in and recoin the dollars already issued, which would be a decided loss to the government Why should not the present quantity of silver in the standard dollar be ample in the future as it has been in the past? Senator Vest proposes to add fifty-two grains of silver to the dollar of the fathers. This is intended to propitiate the gold-bugs—as a sop to Cerebus. It is useless to try to conciliate the elements that are working for the establishment of the single gold standard all over the world—for the practical confiscation of everything that is not ownned by men of fixed incomes, payable In gold. We are told that two hundred millions of people have entered the monometallic league, and that it is hopeless for the United States, with her sixty-five or seventy millions, to enter into a struggle against such potential masses. This proposition will bear a little inquiry. Who are these two hundred millions of people? For the life of us we can only see, at the outside, one hundred and twenty millions. Russia financially may be said to be in a chaotic state. She hoards gold for ulterior military purposes, but her currency is in a most deplorable state. All the silver she has she is obliged to hold on to. In this summary of nations that demand the single gold standard the gold-bugs have had the unexampled impudence to Include France and Italy, both of which nations maintain the double standard and would co-operate most cordially with the United States in any movement for the appreciation of silver. Thus, in a correct grouping of the position of the great nations of the commercial world, we find that the bimetallic quite equal the monometallic nations in numbers, while to the former are to be added Mexico, Central and South America, the islands of the seas, India, China and all Asia. These last are all either in favor of the double standard or maintain the single silver standard. We hear a great deal about the great quantities of silver which the United States would be obliged to buy if we shall fully remonetize silver. Well, where are these sums? England is an enforced purchaser of silver, needing immense amounts of the white metal in her dealings with India. It is a noticeable circumstance that she is obliged to come to the United States and Mexico to get her supplies. The telegraph advises us that already the scarcity of silver is so great in central and southern Europe that Italy has forbidden its exportation. In some portions of Italy the people are using postage stamps and other tokens as a circulating medium. The fact is that nothing in human history is more demonstrable than that the time is highly propitious for the remonetization of silver. Already the East India council is regretting the closing of the East India m ints to the coinage of silver, and a powerful movement is on foot to re-open them. The asserted unanimity of the English people in favor of the single gold standard is all bosh. The largest agricultural and manufacturing bodies in the United Kingdom have sent up strong memorials in favor of the double standard. Hon. Arthur J. Balfour, the leader of the liberals in the house of commons, is an uncompromising bimetallist Many of the most enlightened statesmen of Great Britain are in the same box, and to these may be added several gentlemen who have filled the position of governor of the Bank of England. There never was a more clearly defined conspiracy than that which demonetized silver in the United States. To help the movement along a great outcry was raised against the tremendous output of the Comstock lode. The world was to be deluged with silver. Yet at the very time this hollow and artificial .clamor was being raised within a trifling fraction of half of the output of those mines was gold. If all the friends of silver will join heartily together, with a strong pull, a long pull and a pull altogether, we can maintain the traditional ratio between silver and gold in our coinage, give the miner at least a promise of free coinage and vitalize business in this country to an extent that has not been witnessed since the discovery of gold in California in 1849 first made the United States a wealthy nation. Stick by the old and rightful standard.—Los Angeles Herald.

THE PRECIOUS METALS.

The Quantity of Gold and Silver Shows That the Ratio Should Be Decreased Instead of Increased. Mulhall, the London statistician, has compilled and published statistics on the quantity of gold and silver in the world, and the amount of each in the years 1600, 1700,1800,1848, 1880 and 1890. Taking the total quantity of both gold and silver in the world (coined and uncoined) for the years named, and omitting the fractions we get the following result as to the proportion of the two metals: In 1600 there we re 27 tons of silver to one ton of gold. In 1700, 34 tons of silver to one ton of gold. In 1800, 33 tons of silver to one ton of gold. In 1848, 3i tons of silver to one ton of gold. In 1880, 18 tons of silver to one ton of gold. In 1890, 18 tons of silver to one ton of gold. The proportion of silver to gold coined into money was, in 1600, 40 ton*

of silver to one ton of gold; in 1700, 41 tons of silver to one ton of gold; in 1800, 40 tons of silver to one ton of gold; in 1848, 40 tons of silver to one ton of gold; in 1880, 14 tons of silver to one ton of gold; in 1890, 15 tons of silver to one ton of gold. , The ratio of silver to gold as fixed by law, in using them as measures of values, has been never to exceed 16 to 1. Until silver was denied free access to the mints, at this ratio, there was no trouble to maintain the parity of the two metals. There is less silver in the world now in proportion to gold than there was in 1848, 1800, 1700 or 1600, or at any time in the past, and if any change is made in the ratio, based on the proprotion of the two metals, it should be less than 10 to L rather, than more. From the years 1600 to 1868, there were from 27 to 34 tons of silver to one ton of gold. While now there are only eighteen tons of silver to one ton of gold. The total amount of gold in the world in 1848 was 8,575 tons and of silver 113,000 tons. In 1890 the gold had increasd to 8,820 tons, a little over double; and silver had increased to 165,000 tons, or less than one-half more than in 1848. The two together (both gold and silver) in 1848 amounted to 116,575 tons, while in 1890 their aggregate quantity was 173,820 tons or about 48 per cent increase. I‘iis increase in the precious metals is far less than the increase in population. Business and commerce and the necessities for money z require now probably five times £& much money as was necessary in 1848, and yet the quantity of pecious metals (gold and silver) has not doubled since 1848. > If the ratio between gold and silver is to be changed, it should be less than 16 to 1. Legislation against silver, and the attempt of the money power to make it unpopular is the principal cause of the apparent surplus, of silver. The United States in the last thirty years has become the principal producer of silver, and the gold and silver mines of the old world have been practically exhausted. It is more than probable that the new world will some day be exhausted of its precious metals, and in this respect will not differ from the experiences of the old world.—Chicago Coin.

What Free Coinage Would Do.

Free coinage of silver would set every silver mine in operation immediately, re-employ all miners who have recently lost their jobs, and many others; it would add to the money volume, stop the panic and make times good. It would prevent England from getting cheap silver, which it has been using in the purchase of wheat in India, to the great disadvantage of the American farmer. All this and no injustice done. All this and practically no expense to the government All that ia asked is that the government receive the silver, coin it and hand it back, and no objection will be made if a provision be made that the expense of coinage, which is small, perhaps 50 cents on SIOO, be charged. The principle of free coinage is not that the government will .make no charge, but that all silver shall be free to be coined at the mint the same as gold.—Chillicothe (Mo.) World.

Bimetallism Will Come.

Commenting on the vote in the house on the repeal bill the St Louis Republic says: “Free coinage was not defeated in the house. Free coinage got into the bad company of the Sherman act and suffered no more than a temporary postponement. There was a surging pressure upon congressmen ta take some action in behalf of business. Business had about decided to let its faith rest upon a change from bullion purchases. The pressure from the states whose trade is highly organized was for an end of the purchase clause. This is all there is in the votes in the house. The tsilver ■ advocates made a manly if not entirely wise fight, and the country knows a great deal more about the principles of money science than before. The use of gold and silver, without discrimination, will come.”

A Big Gun Went Off.

Mr. Cannon, of Illinois, created a a surprise in the national house of representatives in the silver debate by speaking against the repeal of the Sherman law. The country was in a bad condition, but he did not think that the case had been properly diagnosed. Under the Sherman act and under the Bland act there had gone into the currency 1300,000,000 as good as gold, redeemable in gold and circulating side by side with gold. He wanted both metals, and he wanted both to be kept on a parity. He would let the purchasing clause of the Sherman law stand until the democratic side of: the house would meet the republican side and would enact a measure that would utilize all the silver in the treasury at its commercial value. He believed that this could be done.

The Silver Stock.

.inquiry at the treasury department elicits the information that the government has now on hand about 180,000,000 ounces of fine silver, costing 8118,000,000. The coining value of bullion on hand is about 8197,000,000. If this were coined the government would realize a profit of about 848,000,000 against which silver certificates could be issued. It would take, however, it is stated, with the present coinage capacity of the United States mints, about five years to convert the bullion into silver dollars. Silver certificates by law could only be issued on the profits as coined. —Exchange.

Ignoring Their Platforms.

The financial question is the paramount issue in American politics today. Do our readers realize the ridiculousness of the situation, namely, that a great many of the leading republicans of the country are with the democratic “administration” on the issue of the day! Sherman and Cleveland, Carlisle and Platt, Brice and Quay, Gorman and R«d, all brothers in the fight against the people, and all of them absolutely ignoring their party’s national platform.—Journal of Agriculture,