Rensselaer Semi-Weekly Republican, Volume 21, Number 91, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 3 August 1900 — Page 2

JOANNE -ORHis First Love.

CHAPTER XlX.—(Continued.) She could not but look keenly at her eon, trying and wishing to read his thoughts. It was many a year since the Beresfords name had been spoken between them, but she was not likely to have forgotten what she had once known about Joanne. Godfrey lingered at Ivor for a week or "two/ delaying his final decision about his journey from day to day. "Shall I go. he asked himself again and again. "If I go, shah I not find her changed in a hundred ways?" But yet. though he feared and almost believed that he should find her changed, in the end his desire to see her once more proved stronger than his fear. . So one morning at last he said good-by to his mother and started for Brentwood. "I shall probably be back again in a week or two,” he told Mrs. Helstone. She made no comment on this announcement. ‘Tieaven bless you, toy dear." she merely said when he went, with a little quiver in her voice that perhaps did not catch his ear.— In the sunny Summer evening Godfrey - —almost the only passenger who stopped -there —got down at the little country station that he had known once so well, and, ordering his things to be sent up to the inn. walked toward the village. , It was all as quiet and sleepy looking as of old. A few passers-by were in the street, blit he saw no face that he recognized. A new landlord, as Joanne had told him, had taken Mr. Turnbull’s place at the little inn. He ordered some dinner and waited while they got it ready for him. It was six o’clock, and when his meal was end- ' e<J he meant to go up to the vicarage. Perhaps he should not find Joanne at home, he suddenly thought. It was possible enough, with so many sisters married, and in all likelihood often wanting her. "Well, in that case I cannot help It,” he told himself. “I shall see the vicar at any rath.” And scarcely knowing whether or not, if he learned that she was absent, he should feel the disappointment much, he rose when his dinner was over and, putting on his hat, turned his steps toward the familiar road along which lie had passed so many times of old. As he turned in at the vicarage gate and went through the winding walk that led out on the lawn, he felt as if it had only been yesterday that he had been there last—as if his life were still before him, and he and Joanne were still young. For a minute he stood still iu the shadow of the trees, and looked before him. Four boys and girls, with half-fa-miliar faces, were playing tennis on the grass, while the hale old vicar stood and watched them, his feet, in their old fashion. firmly planted well apart, his bands behind his baek, his hair a little whiter than when Godfrey had seen it last, his ■figure perhaps a little less erect, but the voice as mellow and full as ever, as at intervals he called out comments on the game, or commendations to the players. Godfrey looked at the scene for a minute. and then came forward into the ■sunshine, causing the vicar swiftly to change the direction of. his gaze. He went straight up to the old man and held out his hand. “It’s a long time since I saw you last, Mr, Beresford,” he said. The vicar stood still and looked at him. “Ah?” he said interrogatively. “Why, let me see! you are—you are- —” And then his look of inquiry changed, and the fine old face blazed into sudden recognition. “Why! you are young Helstone!” he cried, with a shout that made Godfrey laugh. “I thought I should have puzzled you longer," he said. “Not you, not you!” exclaimed the vicar cheerily. “I’ve not a bad memory tor faces. Besides, didn’t you send a message to me? 1’ heard of you from Joanne, you know. She said you talked of coming ie see us again—though, to tell 't&e truth. I didn't pay much heed to that! But I’m glad to see you; you’re welcome back.” They went toward the house, but before they had reached it the vicar threw his head over his shoulder and stopped. “Joanne, come here!” he cried suddenly, with one of his old stentorian calls; and Godfrey turned with a thrill, to find the woman he had come to seek only a few yards from him. She was coining toward them along the gravel walk. He went hastily forward and met her. “Can it la? twenty years ago?” he thought. She gave him her hand with a smile, but something of his own emotion seemed to be felt by her, too, for she was not quick to speak. “I told you, you know, that I should come,” he was the first to say, “Yes, you said you would like to come," she answered; “but one would like to do ao many things—that never get done. And so your daughter is married?" she added hastily, as if to keep him from replying to her first sentence. “Ay. ay. you’ve been getting a daughter married, too, I' hear,” the vicar struck in; ‘‘and married, of all men, to Jack Dallas! I thought it was. a joke at first whfn Joanne told me. But he was a fine fellow —he was as fine it fellow as I’ve often come across; anti if he has got a good wife, I think your daughter, in spite of his years, has got a good husband. Mrs. Beresford thinks ho, at any rate, I can tell you.” \ c “Mrs. Beresford always did Jack jus l ties,” Godfrey answered, laughing. They found the old lady within doors,l looking more changed by a good deal, Godfrey thought, than the vicar did. Her face had grown rather pinched, and she had got deaf, and her old activity was gone. But she had all her wits about her still. Godfrey Mt down by her side. The young ones were still busy with their <»» upon the lawn, and these four, who

By PAUL INGELOW.

were no longer young, stayed together for a long time, and talked of the years that they had left behind. It was a quiet hour, and one that had no counterpart in the days that had been of old. But its grave friendliness was pleasant to Godfrey; its tone seemed to imply that those old days, brief as they had been, had linked him to these companions with a tie that long separation had not broken. They went to their homely supper in the old way before Godfrey left them. He was given a place at table between the married sisters. He had had little all the evening to do with Joanne, but he told himself again that he could -afford 10-, wait. To-night ho felt that he was only gathering up the dropped threads of former days; there was no need for haste. “Well, Helstone, we shall meet in the morning,” the vicar said cheerily as Godfrey took his leave at last. “I'll come to you, and we’ll have a’ grand day of it.” “I shall fee! sure of that if I have your company,” Godfrey answered with warmth; and Mr. Beresford balanced himself on his heels and laughed. “Ah, you are trying your hand at flattering an old man!” he exclaimed. “Well, well, we don’t get wiser always as we grow in years, and the old fish,-1 amafraid, feels tempted to rise to the bait. Off with you, sir, and get to bed, or in the morning you’ll find me before you at the river.” CHAPTER XX. In these pleasant idle days when Godfrey was leading the same life again that he had led in that other unforgotten holiday so many years ago, a considerable part of his time soon came to, be spent with Joanne. He was at the vicarage during some part of every four-and-twenty hours. As it had been of old, he became again almost one of themselves, coming and going as he liked. He often went fishing with the vicar; he made friends with the new generation of children; he talked a great deal with Edith, and a little with Violet, but most of all he cared to be where Joanne was. She was fond of walking, and as often as it was possible he used to accompany her on her walks. At first he tried to give an appearance of chance to these meetingq with her, but presently he ventured gradually to let her see that they did not come by chance. One day he found her sitting sketching, and he threw himself down on the grass beside her. She made her picture that day, and he lay at her feet with a feeling of supreme content. His life since he had been here last seemed to be fading away from him in these happy weeks—all growing dim iu the charm of this recovered atmosphere that was giving him back his youth and the hope that he had lost so long ago. . He often now almost forgot that neither he nor she was young; she seemed $o little changed; he felt so little changed, too. He was thinking this to-day, when, curiously, in the midst of his thoughts, she began suddenly to speak about that life that he had left behind him. She had never done this until now; the briefest reference to the past and to Margaret had been all that had evei* passed between them. But perhaps she had already had it in her mind to break her silence; for to-day, after there had been a pause for a minute or two between them, she all at once began to speak in a way that did not seem to be unpremeditated. “May I. say something to you?” she asked abruptly, and rather nervously. “Ydu know, after that day-long ago—when I saw you last —of course I often thought about your marriage. I often wondered if you were content.” She hesitated for a moment. ‘T have no right to ask—hut—you were content, were you not?” she said timidly. “Yes—F was content,” he deliberately replied. He made no other answer for a minute, but at the end of that time he began to speak again very gravely. “You helped me that day when I needed help,” he said. “Heaven knows I have all my life beefi grateful to you. No, I never repented my marriage. My wife was one of the best arid most unselfish of women —and she never knew—what I went that day in my trouble and told to you. That was best—wasn’t it?” “I knew you wouldn't tell her,” Joanne said quickly. “It was only to keep silent for a little while—till her love made you love her.” "Well, I did that,” he answered. “You gave me strength to do it. So I have owed not a little to you, you see. Oh, no, I have not been an unhappy man. She gave her whole life to me for seventeen years, poor girl; and she gave me Rita, too. My little daughter was a great consolation to me.” One evening, when the vicar and Mr. Helstone happened to be alone, Godfrey, yielding to a sudden impulse, said something to him about Joanne. "Mr. Beresford, I think you must know why I’ am here,” he abruptly said. “Twenty years ago, if it had been in my power, I would have asked Joanne to be my wife.”

“And —lad I have you pome hack to ask her now?” said the vicar, almost with a cry. There Was a momentary fire in his sac sudden wrath that made his eyes flash, and gave him the look of an old soldier facing his foe. But the flame hardly lasted more than a second. “I might have known,” he added almost immediately, in a tone that had fallen into s apother key. “I am an old fool—for I might have known.” “She is more dear to me than I can trust myself to tell you,” Godfrey said in a low voice, for he was trying to control an emotion that almost got the mastery of him. “She was the love of my youth, b<it she is dearer to me now even than aha was in those old days—though

both her youth and mine are gone. If I take her from you ” “So you think she'll have you?” the vicar interrupted hiiri wistfully. He looked at Godfrey for a moment. “Ah, well—you know about it, probably,” he added, with an effort —“and I have ah old man’s dim eyes and have not seen.” He was silent for a few seconds; then, in a low voice, “My poor lass!” he said; “and did she think of this, too, twenty years ago?” “I never had the right to ask her that,” Godfrey answered, with a keenness of memory that sent the hot blood to his face; The vicar walked on quickly a little way ahead of his companion. They’ were near the gate that led into the meadow, and when he reached it he opened it and passed through. “One can breathe better here,” he said, as Godfrey followed him, “and a man feels the need of a deep breath at times. You see, sir, you have* given me a blow.” "I am afraid I have,” Godfrey answered quickly; “and you will find it hard to forgive me for it.” "Nay, nay, sir!” cried the. old man, vigorously, “that is a thing you need not fear. About forgiveness you have no call to speak. As I'say, this—this’Shakes me a little, you understand —but heaven forbid that I should grudge her any happiness. I have never done that, I trust. I would cut my right hand off and fling it ill the fire rather than do it now!” Godfrey went back into the garden and approached the house, looking for Joanne. The usual stir of young voices was in the air, and the children, with Edith, were on the lawn, preparing for the customary pastime. Joanne he found presently sitting with her mother by one of the open drawing room windows. “It is such a pleasant evening. Can you come out a little?” Godfrey asked Joanne a few minutes afterward, and she answered “Yes,” and joined him outside. “What have you done with papa? I thought you were together?” she had illready inquired. “We were together, but he left me,” he replied. She did not guess, as she joined Godfrey in the garden, that he wanted her to-night more than he always wanted -her,— - ———- —— “It is nice out here. The drawing room was very hot,” she merely said. “So I thought,” he answered. “I wanted to get you out of it. Come away; let us turn our backs upon them "all.” “Where do you want to go to?” she asked him; but when he answered to this —“Where I can have you to myself”— then she made no reply. There were two paths across the meadows, one leading to the river, one to other fields in which the corn was ripening. “Let us go this way,” he said, and turned from the river to the right, and in a little while they reached those yellowing crops. There was a gate here, and she would have passed through'it, but at this point he stopped h«f. “Suppose we g& no further. I like a gate to lean on. We are very well here,” he said, and folded his arms upon the upper rail. Then she stood still, too. The wind was passing lightly over the corn. There was a breezy sky, with torn clouds in the west. , She said, after they had talked for a few minutes: “Do you remember in the old time that we came and stood at this gate- once before —my father, and you, and I’—and we talked about painters, and what they could make of this kind of country?” “And your father stood here, and you on the other side of him,” he replied. “Yes —I remember it. Y'ou stood with your hand in his arm. I can see you now in your light dress, and with your young face. And I stood here,” he added, suddenly, “envying the touch that you were giving to some one else.” “Shall we not walk on?” she abruptly asked, and put her hand upon the fastening of the gate. Both his words and his tone had made the color come to her face. But he shook his head: “No—why should be walk on? We will stay here and talk,” he answered. “I want to go on talkiug about those days. Do you not know what they were to me? There is a thing I want you to tell me frankly.” He paused for a moment, and then looked straight at her and put his question. “Did you know that I loved you when I was here before?” She turned her face hurriedly away from him; she said nothing for a moment or two; then she answered, in a low voice, “I did not know it.” “You were not sure of it, you mean?” he replied at once. “But you were sure —you did know it, before the end—on that day when I saw you last?” “Yes —I knew it then,” she said. She made her answer steadily, but the next moment she suddenly changed her position, and—- “ Why should we talk of it?” she said nervously. “Better not. All that is so long ago.” o “But I have you with me again,” he quickly answered, “and, suppose it is long ago, what then? Do you think that that summer when I knew you first stand out for me from all theyother summers of my life? If it had been possible for me to have spoken tmyou at the end of those happy weeks—toy dear, would you have sent me away? Perhaps I have no right to ask you, but—as you said just now—it is so long ago, and you may trust me enough to tell me, I think?” “Do I not know that I may trust you? Have I not trusted you always?” she answered, with a little thrill in her voice. And then, after only a moment or two’s silence, “if I had not done that, and if you had not come to me that last day,” she said half aloud, "I think my life would have been very different. But that day made everything almost easy to bear.”

"My Joanne!” he said, passionately. It was a lover's call to her, let her be young or old, and she looked at him for one moment, and then, whatever else she might have meant to say was never said, and she only flushed like a girl and held her peace. (The .end.)

Storage Room for Bicycles.

Pawnbrokers in Frankfort and Paris have found It necessary to enlarge their premises to make room for the storage of bicycles. The Paris municipality has voted $2,600 to convert one of the halls at the Mont de Piete Into a bicycle storeroom. Were It not for the weather lots of people wouldn't have anything to kick about.

ABOUT IMPERIALISM.

DEMOCRATIC CAMPAIGN SCARECROW ANALYZED. The “Antis” Want the Country to Shirk Its Duty and Furl the Flag— Yet They Welcome Hawaii or 16-to-l’s Sake. * ■ Imperialism may serve as a campaign scarecrow, but before the harvest of votes is garnered next November, the people will recognize that It is but a thing of straw. Imperialism presupposes an empire, md the magnificent domain over which our lovely banner flies is imperial in its beauty, in its products and in its extent. Such a wealth of hill, mountain, plain and prairie, such an abundance of crystal lakes and such a network of commerce-bearing rivers were never before bestowed upon any people. Every State is an empire; every county is a principality, for which, as true Americans, we are proud, and for which, as Christians, recognizing God as the God of nations, we should be deeply grateful. This domain has been given to us by a power that is.higher than any party or policy, though the Republican party was called into being in order to protest and battle against the division of this’-mighty empire.- which Democ* racy declared, in the press, in its platforms and on the bloody battlefields, should be divided. To this extent the charge of imperialism can with truth be made against the Republican party. Abraham Lincoln was the embodiment bf that imperial idea, and a martyr to the cause of one flag, one country, and one imperial destiny. Imperialism, if it means anything the Democracy would have the people believe, implies an emperor, a dynasty, a throne, a crown and a scepter. This feature of imperialism, by no stretch of partisan misrepresentation, can ever be charged against our honored President and candidate for the Presidency. He was the choice of the people; he was honestly elected in a constitutional manner and has been so loath to oppose the will of the people, as expressed by legislation enacted by Congress, that in the four years of his administration he has vetoed but four bills. He will serve his two terms as many other good Presidents, both Democratic and Republican, have done, and will then give way to his successor, chosen as he was chosen, by the free votes of a sovereign people. The partisan accusation of Imperialism, when translated into plain everyday English, in the light of the history made during the brilliant administration of- President McKinley, is simply this: The Republicans declare that it is their policy not to blindly abandon the Islands transferred from Spanish to American sovereignty by the treaty of Paris. The Democracy, so far as it has a policy, would have the master nationbuilder of the world abandon its plain duty, furl our triumphant flag and hunt an easy future rather than a working future. Porto Rico, recognizing the fact that she cannot stand alone, does not wish to become an independent power, and the only thing possible Is for the United States to continue Its sovereignty, which Is Republican, or to invite Spain to re-enter the Western hemisphere and commence anew her policy of misrule, of robbery and extortion from which we have delivered Cuba. To plant the customs of the seventeenth century Is Democratic. This Is the logical conclusion when the Democratic cry of the Democratic platform Is analyzed. The same Is as true of the Philippines as of Porto Rico. Will the Democrats dare to fix a date for the evacuation of either? They are under the flag of the republic, and there they will remain. This means work and thought and statesmanship for the people of the United States, but it means blessing and liberty, justice and opportunity for the islands placed under our care by solemn treaty obligations that were approved by the Senate of the United Staley, and urged by Mr. Bryan. Methods of administration and of government are legitimate objects of party difference*. But annexation Is a fact. It is for all purposes as much an accomplished fact as is the abolition of slavery, another Republican measure. The people will learn that imperialism, as employed by the Democrats, means that they would have the country shirk its duty, turn Its back on destiny, count all bloodshed as lost, furl the flag and withdraw its protection from people who need it to-day more than ever before in all their history. Thechargeof Imperialism, when properly translated, means duty. And the party of Lincoln, of Grant, of Harrison, and of McKinley, is willing to be charged with doing its duty no matter how hard that duty may be. Stripped of all glamor, the Democrats have entered upon a flag-furling campaign. They condemn expansion, yet welcome Hawaii, because its one vote alone enables them to again attempt to overthrow the stable currency of the country. They decry “Imperialism,” yet shout themselves hoarse over an Hawaiian “prince.” They are welcome to all the votes and glory they can make out of such duplicity. Money in Circulation. The total circulation of natlbnal bank notes, at the close of business June 30, 1900, was $309,559,719, an Increase for the year of $68,291,023. The circulation, based on United States bonds, was $274,115,552, an increase of the year of $68,851,458. Democrat* for Imperinliam. The fhllure of the. Democrats to denounce the annexation of Hawaii was doubtless dqe to the fact that the vote of Hawaii alone enabled them to revive tbe 16 to 1 corpse.

RENNSYLVANIA'S PRODUCTS. Enormotn Increase in Output and Employment Under Prosperity. Pennsylvania produced of pig Iron in 1899, 6,542,998 gross ,fe>ns, or more than 70 per cent, of the entire production of Great Britain, over 48 per cent, of the production of the United States and over 94 per cent, in excess of her production in 1894. Pennsylvania produced 6,446,159 gross tons of steel in 1899, being nearly 29 per cent.- in excess of the entire production of Great Britain, over 60 per cent, of the production of the United States and over 150 per cent, in excess of her production in 1894. Over 40 per cent, more steel was produced in Pennsylvania in 1899 than was produced in the entire United States in 1894. Pennsylvania produced, in 1899, 7,093,485 net tons of rolled iron and steel, not including steel billets nor muck bar. This was over 59 per cent, of the entire production of the United States, and over 132 per cent, in excess of her production in 1894. Pennsylvania alone rolled in 1899 over 34 per cent, more iron and steel than was rolled in the entire United States ifi 1894. The United States produced of tin and terne plate, in 1899, 435 per cent, in excess of the production in 1894, Pennsylvania producing 37 per cent, of this increase. The aggregate value of the output of these enumerated industries in Pennsylvania for 1899 was approximately $500,000,000, and employment was given to some 115,000 workmen, skilled and unskilled, at materially increased wages. There were 15,347 men employed in pig iron at an average dally wage of $1,51, as against 10,402 at $1.26 in 1894; 69,982 were employed in rolled iron and steel in 1899 at an average daily wage of $1.95, as against 40,352 in 1894 at $1.61. In the black-plate tin works comparison cannot be made with 1894; but, in 1809, 7,682 workmen were employed at an average daily wage of $2.36, as against 2,474 in 1895 at $1.87. An Isthmian Canal. The territorial jurisdiction of the United States has been augmented in the Atlantic by the cession of Porto Rico, which, with the occupation of Cuba, held in trust for the future, serves to guard the Gulf of Mexico and to extend our influence in the WestTndies. The necessary link to connect our Atlantic and Pacific interests, continental as well as insular, has seemed to be an intetoceanic canal, owned and controlled by the government of the United States. An apparently irremovable barrier to the accomplishment of this object has existed in the Clayton-Bul-wer treaty, which since 1850 has bound this government not to undertake such a project as a national enterprise. Through all the political administrations since the negotiations of that convention no American President or Secretary of State has ever denied the existence and the consequent obligation of that treaty during Its continued recognition. Whatever may be said of Its “voidability,” its existence as a solemn compact binds the conscience and honor of the American government and people until it is legally annulled. In a convention, dated Feb. 8, 1900, this government procured the voluntary consent of Great Britain to modify essentially the terms of that agreement, thereby liberating the United States from its previous engagement not to construct or own an interoceanic canal. As the canal must of necessity lie within territory foreign to the United States, it is evident that it must be of a neutral character and not be employed as an agency of war.

Exports of Cotton. Our exports of raw cotton compare as follows: Fiscal year. Value. 1890 $250,968,792 1891 290,712,898 1892 258,461.241 1893 188,771,445 1894 210,860,289 1895 204,900,990 1896 190,056,400 1897 230,442,215 1899 209,504,774 During the Democratic administration of 1893-’96, which closed our mills, cotton became so cheap that Its value fell below the cost of production, and we supplied low-priced cotton to the foreign manufacturers who were shipping their goods Into our market. Now our mills are using the cotton, and Its value has advanced. Cotton-growers know that “the open mills” policy Is the best. Political Notes. The Democratic platform can be read in three words—"Ag'in the .. Government” * Ten cent cotton was touched under a Republican administration that opened the mills. A Republican surplus of $81,229,770 In time of war Is better than a Democratic deficit of $140,702,915 in time of ■peace. There are now at the Paris Exposition five Kansas farmers from one township. This Is merely a sample prosperity fact. No. 2 spring wheat sold In Chicago at 88 cents last month, as against 61% cents In June, 1896. Why make a change back to the Democratic administration and prices? Bets of 4 to 1 that McKinley will be re-elected President have already been made. A New York Republican, who had $10,009 to wager, at 3 to 1, found no enthusiastic Democratic takers. It may be assumed with a good degree of confidence that this campaign will not be as profitable for Mr. Bryan as was the last. Tbe people will be slow to part with their good money to hear hard lugk stories.

BEET SUGAR AREAS.

DEFINED BY THE DEPARTMENT OF AGRICULTURE. Trade Possibilities for Farmers Aris* Ing from Our War with Spain —Ex* periments with Grasses and Forage Plants—lmporting Foreign Seeds. An attempt has been made by the Department of Agriculture to define with greater certainty the areas in the United States suited to the growth of high-grade sugar beets. To this end, seeds of the sugar beet have been distributed in the most promising localities and grown under identical conditions of culture, according to instructions prepared by the division. The only variance, therefore, has been the soil and climate. The beets thus grown have been analyzed, either in the Division of Chemistry or at the agricultural experiment stations, and their saccharine qualities ascertained. As a result of the experiments which have been conducted ip this manner, the areas in the original map constructed by the division, showing thp probable areas suited to beet culture, have been more definitely pointed out. This work is still In progress, and if continued for a few years longer, will result in obtaining the data whereby the sugar beet areas of the country can be mapped with a considerable degree of accuracy. Of the work accomplished by the section of foreign markets during the past three years one of the most important features was the study of trade possibilities growing out of the SpanishAmerican war. The islands that were brought Into closer relationship to the United States by the war naturally became the subject of great commercial interest, and numerous inquiries were received regarding the trade opportunities that might be expected to result. As the war progressed the requests for informatlou relative to Cuba, Porto Rico, and the Philippines increased to such an extent that the section was obliged to devote its attention almost entirely to the subject of these new dependencies. To meet the active demand for information along this line, several special reports were prepared for publication embodying such data as could be obtained regarding the commerce that was beginning to .attract so much Interest. Just before the breaking out of the war, when the prevailing conditions seemed to point to probable hostilities, a report was published on the subject of oui- trade with Cuba, presenting detailed information as to the nature and value of the products Imported and exported, and suggesting the commercial possibilities that could be looked for with a fuller development of Cuban resources. As soon as Porto Rico began to be of special interest, owing to the shifting of the war campaign in Its direction, an exhaustive report was prepared on the commerce of the Island, setting forth In the fullest possible manner the character of the trade carried on with the several foreign countries, and especially with the United States. Later a report of 160 pages was published regarding the trade of the Philippines, embracing practically all of the available statistics on the subject that could be collated from the official import and export returns of the various countries enjoying commercial intercourse with the Islands. The report on the trade of the Philippines was supplemented by a circular dealing with the agricultural resources of the Islands and describing the most Important plant products. Owing to the scarcity of reliable data relative to Cuba, Porto Rico and the Philippines, the preparation of the reports on these former Spanish possessions required a vast amount of research. It was profitable work, however, for the reports proved to be exceedingly useful as a means of answering the frequent requests that were received for information about the new dependencies. Experiments with grasses and forage plants have been vigorously prosecuted during the past three years. These experiments are necessary In order that ranchers and farmers may be informed of the kinds suitable for their respective districts. After these preliminary facts are determined the promising varieties can be recommended and adopted without further and useless expenditure of time and money. Many of the vast cattle ranges of the West have been practically destroyed by overstocking or mismanagement, and it has become a serious question as to what are the best grasses with which to reseed them. The division has spent much time and energy in this line of investigation, and, through Its work in the field and experiments, is prepared to meet many of tbe more Important forage problems of the various parts of the United States. During the past three years the agrostologlst has distributed 5,565 packages of seeds of grasses and forage plants, embracing 251 varieties. These seeds were largely procured through foreign importations and by special collections In the field made by agents or employes of the division. Hogs Are Valuable. In the last six months, hogs have advanced $3 a head. Apply this to 50,000,000 hogs, an,d there Is a profit of $150,000,000 for Western farmers. ThlS'is better than Wall street. It Is a sure thing, the result of prosperity. Why? “I do not care to hold office unless it enables me to do something to aid the people In their fight against organized wealth.”—W. J. Bryan. Then why drop the Income tax!