Rensselaer Semi-Weekly Republican, Volume 22, Number 61, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 19 April 1901 — Page 2

Hetty, or Old Grudge.

chapter xrv. It was hard for Hetty, when she anc. Vary nestled close before the tire that •veiling for their customary long sympathetic talk, and when, afterward, «hey retired to bed together, to restrain liereelf from telling the important step •he contemplated taking on the morrow. Hat the secret was. BOt wholly her own, and she feared to intrust it to the chances of the little old maid’s involuntary betrayal. The only person to whom •the could talk frankly about it was Dan’•y, whose co-operation was, to a certain extent, necessary in the plan John had tanned, and whose willingness to render •t was simply enthusiastic. •-> “Yon," she said to him, “want to get -town to the bend of the road, by the big walnut tree, real early in the morning wad wait there until John comes along in ISis cutter. The minute you see him, fire tvo shots, close together, just as you 4id to-day. That is all you have to do.” *iAnd what’ll you be doing?” “Running for dear life." Danny refleeted anti shook his head •dubiously. “Gals can’t run," he said contemptuously, “ ’cause they wear frocks. Mam'll ■catch you, sure, and I sort of don't want >to fill her full of shot 'thout I have to.” “Why, Danny! You awful boy! The -idea of anybody ever wanting you to do each a thing!” “Well,, didn’t T tell you I don’t like ■ to, my self? .But, say! I’ve got the idea of what you want. Laudanum, you Jtnow, puts people to sleep. Now, there’s at bottle of horse liniment in the barn, that's chock full of laudanum. Bill Taylor says he can smell it; and if we’d chunk that into mam ” -“Danny! Oh, you’ll surely get yourself hanged some day! If you don’t promise me that you will not do anything to mother, I’ll not run away at all. Why, how ■ do you know but that you might half kill ’.here, giving her things like that? And then, how would you feel, you wicked boy?"

"How I’d feel. Well, sorry. I s’pose. ®ut how do you s’pose John’ll feel if this scheme busts up? He’s just dead -me*, on getting you, though I’m* sure I ■don't see why, when he’s got the pick •«f the girls in the township.” ■“That will do now, Danny. You will -know more about such things when you to be older. All you have to do now is just what John says, and if things -don’t turn out right, it will not be your -•fault.” Danny did not dispute that proposition, but it was plain to be seen he took a .gloomy view of the probable outcome of .* job of mischief not personally engineered by himself, and-would have been quite •willing to assume the responsibility of ■xunning the elopement in ways that would have been a terror to parents and guardians. Very little sleep did Hetty Mulveil get that night; not because she was a featherheaded fool-girl, half-crazed by the deli--cious excitement of a prospective elopement, but by reason of her being a good, ,*emsible one, who realized that she was .about to take a very serious step—one, la all probability, irrevocable and weighted with all her life’s destiny. It is not necessary that an intelligent, reasoning maiden shall, under such circumstances, feel a distrust of her lover to- feet her gravely pondering upon what may be hidden behind the veil of the future. He is but one factor in the problem with which fate confronts her, though, it must be admitted, a very important one. The wis•est foresight is only good guessuiork; in every darkness danger lurks, and love alone, whatever the poets may say, will not lighten the obscurity of the next hour •f our existence. Fate never ceases •tempting and compelling us. Every moment of life is fraught with infinite potentialities, and according as we vivify those moments with earnestness of purpose and intensity of action, so we wake those latent forces into active being and give to their control the helm of our destiny. The girl got into a condition of nervous wakefulness, with thinking, hoping and fearing.

•“Come!” she said to herself at length. “1 shall positively get no sleep at all. .and will look like an owl to-morrow, if I •don't drive John and marrying and all that clean out of my head. I wonder if counting the elock-ticks would put me to sleep? It does some people. I’ve heard. One. two. three, four— How strangetl.v Bond they are! Everything sounds loud•er at night, I suppose. 1 wonder if Mary Elder knows that she snores—just a little bit? One, two, three— I won der if I snore? And if I do, what will John say if he ever finds it out? Pshaw! Why can't I stop thinking about John? One, two— Oh! Twelve o’clock! Well, If this isn’t the longest night! I wonder if John is lying awake, too? There •It is again! ‘John!’ ‘John!’ Always John. I wonder what makes the light of so many colors? Every time the fire flares up there is a little ribbon, of the •color of gold, under the door; and the moonlight on the wall is ns white nnd cold as the snow; and the light in John's eyes is blue. Bother John’s eyes! I wish I could go to sleep. How can a body ■leep when there are noises? I don't believe there ever were so many •noises about this house before. Let me couat. There’s the clock makes three kinds; ticking, a wheezy whiz when it’s going to strike and striking. Then there are the crickets. I don’t believe they make that noise with their hind legs, whatever the natural history book may <aay. And that mouse is gnawing away again. Of course, Danny has forgotten to set the trap. To-morrow night, I’ll—>flo, I won't—l’ll he away with John. There It Is! John again. Everything comes 'round to John. Oh, this won't do •t. all. One, two, three, four, five! Good gracious! What a crack that was! I wonder why timber snaps so in cold weather. John said he had got all the dm her out for i new house, and we •would live at hia mother's until it la put

By J. H. CONNELLY.

up. I wonder if she will like me. If she doesn ’ t L I shall be awfu Ily lonesome when John is not about. One, two, three, four, five, six ” So she fought the night through until the clock struck four, when she thought she might venture to get up without astonishing the family too profoundly. Her dressing had been carefully planned beforehand. The gown would, of course, have to be the ordinary every-day brown merino. A better one, such as she would have liked to wear when going anywhere with John, would certainly provoke her mother's vigilant suspicions. But the old lady, luckily, would not see with what care she had dressed underneath, to secure comfort on the tong, cold drive before her. Her warmly wadded, fur-trim-med cloak, cherry-tinted knitted hood, white woolen “muffler,” thick mittens and fur-liued overshoes she rolled in a tight bundle and hid in a dark corner of the summer kitchen, ilear the back door. All those preparations had been made before Mrs. Mulveil even noticed that her daughter was moving about the house. Then Hetty busied herself getting breakfast. Soon the tempting odors of hot coffee and frying ham tickled Danny's nose, up in the loft, and for once he came tumbling downstairs in a hurry, without having to lie rolled out of bed or even called—an almost unprecedented thing. And so eager was he to get off with .his gun—“squirrel hunting,” he said, but with a sly wink at Hetty—that he would hardly wait to snatch a hasty breakfast.

The hired man came in. He was going to take a load of grain to the mill that morning and could not get an early breakfast at home, because his wife was sick. Hetty sat him down at the table and began dipping the buckwheat batter from its crock 'to the smoking griddle for cakes. By the time he was through eating, Mary Elder and Mrs. Mulveil were up. The latter felicitated herself upon seeing the hired man before he started. She fancied that she had felt some premonitory twinges of rheumatism and wanted him to be sure to get for her, from the miller, a bottle of black-snake oil. He said he would not forget and went away. Hetty put upon the table a tall pile of goldenbrown buckwheat cakes, and the three women sat down. The meal was little more than half over, when the girl’s sharp ears caught the sound of two gunshots, close together, at a distance, but clear. Neither of the others noticed them. “There!” she exclaimed. “I have forgotten again to set water on for the dishes,” and, rising from the table Which was in the kitchen, took up the kettle to place it upon the stove. It was empty—as she had taken care it should be. She turned to the water pail; it, too, was empty. Taking it up, as if going to the well, she passed out of the back door, which she closed behind her. Her mother and Mary were deep in discussion of the advisability of “turning” a certain blue cashmere that had alreadyseen much service. But, after some minutes, the old woman exclaimed petulantly: “Why don’t that girl come and finish her breakfast? Hetty! Hetty!” There was no response. At that precise moment Hetty was already two hundred yards away from the house, with her bundle in her arms, flying down the lane as if an angry bull had been behind her. After a time, Mrs. Mulveil broke forth again: “Her coffee is getting cold and them buckwheats will be like leather. Hetty! Hetty!” Getting no reply, she arose, went to the back door, looked out and repeated her call, loudly, but in vain. By that time Hetty was in John Cameron's cutter,’ out of sight, beyond the bend in the road, doing the best she could with nervous fingers and her lover’s rather awkward help, to bundle herself up comfortably in the warm wraps she had not dared to wait to put on until now.

“Where are we.going, John?” she asked anxiously. “To the turnpike, first. There our track will be lost. Then, if they chase us, they will not know whether we have struck out for Noblestpwn, Canonsburg or Washington, and, as they will hardly be likely to think we have started off in this way for Pittsburg, we will get an everlasting start on them while they are puzzling.” When Mrs. Mulveil had repeated her call two or three times, she noticed the door of the summer kitchen open, observed the water pail dropped in the snow near by, and suspicion flashed, with the suddenuess of an explosion, into her mind. Without a word she wheeled, and darted into Hetty ! s bedroom. From there, a howl of angry dismay quickly proclaimed that she had made a discovery. Hetty's warm wraps, as well ns the girl herself were missing, and the old woman shrewdly guessed the truth. “Hetty has run away with that John Cameron!” she shrieked, rushing back tc the kitchen. Mary Elder, leisurely enjoying her buckwheat cakes and honey, was almost paralyzed by amazement, and could only weakly gasp: “Oh, no, Mrs. Mulveil! You don’t think so?” “Don’t I? Well, I do! And, wliat’s more, I know she has. I’d lay my life on it!” “Why, she never even hinted to me that she had thought of suqh a thing. I should think she would have told me." “Oh.no! Not she! Of course not! She was smart enough for keeping her mouth to herself, and with him putting her up to it. And to think I didn’t see anything out of the way with her! . I might have known there was some deviltry in her getting up so mortal early this morning. But she needn’t think she is going to get away so mighty easy. Danny! Hi, Danny!” “Danny's gone to shoot squirrels.”

“So he has: and I’d forgot it. This trouble drove it out \>f my head. I’ll have to ride the mare. Consarn the boy! No day would do him to go hunting but this day, of all the days in the year!” “Why, Mrs. Mulveil, Danny goes hunting every day!” ■ / “Yah! So he does. Well, I’ll g<S do sonic hunting myself. I'm ready, now.” Mrs. Mulveil had not wasted a minute in her talking, for she was a woman of action: and while her tongue ran on, she had been busily preparing herself to pursue the lovers. Fully dressed now for the road, it took her but a few minutes to saddle the bay mare and promptly she set out at a gallop for Cousin Simeon's. His kinship and constabulary authority, she seemed to think, would make him her most effective ally in this emergency, but how much stronger her confidence would have been had she known that his energies would be inspired by an infinitely more powerful feeling—that of ferocious jealousy. Simeon and Rufus were both at the sawmill, puttiug in a new log-car, when she reined up at the door, with a loud, impatient—“HiT there!”

In a few vigorous words she told iter startling news; Hetty had run away with John Cameron! Rufus did most of the audible swearing. but Simeon's face was hard set and white with a passion deeper than words could vent. The constable hated his successful rival, as a Cameron; as a man who had defied his authority and whipped him; as his superior in every manly grace and attribute; and finally as the winner of the fair prize upon which he had fixed his heart’s desire. Yes; he was the right man to enlist for the pursuit of the lovers. He still had that warrant in his possession and now it would be worth while taking all probable risks to effect its service. It Was as a fugitive from justice that he would hunt John Cameron down; not as a lover eloping with his sweetheart. Of course, under existing circumstances, the young fellow would be certain to resist arrest. At least, it was to be hoped he would. And if he did? Well, a constable in the discharge of his duty could legally take such extreme measures to enforce his authority and uphold the dignity of the law as would never be sanctioned in an ordinary citizen interfering, however properly, in another's love affair. The idea by Rufus during their ride to church was by no means a bad one. It must not be supposed that Simeon permitted himself to put into audible words anything of these thoughts turbulently rolling through his mind. He was much too cautious for that. “We’ll do all we can for you, to bring Hetty back,” he said to Mrs. Mulveil, and that was all. While Rufus hurriedly hitched a team to the two-horse sleigh, l>ut ifiPEhe robes and secured a bottle of rum for consumption en route, Simeon, in the tool room of the mill, gave his exclusive attention to the careful loading of his revolver, which was one of the old “pepper-box” kind, but a sufficiently deadly weapon at close quarters. Within half an hour, the pursuers started, and when she had seen them off, Mrs. Mill veil jugged away home in a much more contented and hopeful frame of mind. She had sent Murder to hunt down Love.

CHAPTER XV. A light snow had fallen during the night, and on the comparatively littletraveled country road the lovers first took there was no difficulty in following the track of John's cutter. But on the turnpike it was quickly lost among the multiplicity of others. Only from the direction it took in emerging from the road—turning towards the left—it appeared that they had gone to Washington. But, after driving half an hour, the pursuers met a man coming from Washington, who said that he had seen no cutter with a man and a girl in it on the road -that day. They went back to where the trail entered upon the pike, and, by more careful and acute observation than they had employed before, found now that John had cunningly driven a few hundred yards toward Washington, and then retraced his course and gone itt the direction of Canonsburg. He had evidently calculated upon the possibility of what had occurred and his trick had cost his pursuers nearly an hour and a half of valuable time. The consciousness of having been so easily outwitted still further enraged Simeon Mulveil, and he lashed his horses into a gallop. , The fortunate accident of meeting a man who knew Cameron and had recognized him, with a girl, in a cutter, on the road to Pittsburg, saved the constable from a vain chase to Canonsburg, and enabled him, though still far in the rear, to gain ground steadily in the pursuit from that time on.

John Cameron, confident of having baffled his possible pursuers and dreaming naught of the danger now following swiftly, was wildly happy in possession of the greatest joy and triumph of his life. Hetty, nestled close under his artSfi, so bundled up that only her sparkling the blossomy roundness of her cheeks and the tip of her little nose appeared amid her mutilings, in submission to his insistanee uncovered her lips “just for a moment;” nnd the moment was so long that the big black horse felt the neglected reins lying loosqly upon his hack, and intoxicated by exultutgm in his own vigor and the inspiriting freshness of the morning breeze, took the bit between his teeth and galloped madly away with the speed of the wind, his bells sounding a paean of rejoicing. That was on the country turnpike; there was no such good going on the Pittsburg road. It had been badly cut up by heavy teaming during a recent thaw, and the snowfall of the preceding night had only partly concealed nnd not tilled the deep ruts nnd holes in the frozen ground. Added to that, when the sun was Well up, the snow was softened just enough to “ball” constantly under the black horse’s feet and worry him. Consequently, the travel was slower thnn John had anticipated, and it was the middle of the afternoon when he found himself descend* ing the long, steep sidehill above Temperftnceville and saw Pittsburg, across the Monongahela river, before him. But that did not trouble him. Anybody in pursuit would have had the same difficulties to encounter, and he had a good enough start to free him from anxiety about the result of a chase. Besides, his goal was in sight; the victory practically won, '

The little ferryboat—propelled by bbne power—had been laid up for the season, and since then all crossing of the river was upon the ice. So thick and strong was this natural bridge that enormous wagons laden, with coal, and each drawn by four huge horses, had crossed it in almost a continuous procession between the mines bf Coal Hill and the city, day after day for weeks, without causing its glassy floor to even crack; but it was no longer so secure. Successive snowfalls had “made it rotten,” and rivermeu affirmed that the swift current of the stream had “cut it away on the under side,” so that now, though still perfectly safe for pedestrians, only rather venturesome persons drove horses upon it. Those who did drive across followed a curving course almost like a great letter S, that led from the ferry landing on the South Pittsburg side to the citywharf near “the Point,” that way having been carefully picked out by sounding where the ice was yet thickest and strongest. (To be continued.)

FRIGHTENED HIS WIFE.

Forty Cents Almost the Canse of a Catastrophe. Before Mrs. Rrowley was married she scoffed at the misguided girls and women who kept personal accounts. Her argument was that if you knew how much money you had and it was all gone what was the use of piling on the anguish by having your folly and extravagance In black and white to stare you in the face, especially as you had no more money at the end of the month than you had without an account book? But since she has been running a house she has achieved not one but nearly a dozen account books. There is one devoted to the groceryman, another to the butcher, personal accounts take a third and so on till she spends nearly all her glad young life balancing sums. It is a matter of pride with her that they shall come out even and so there was woe last month when forty cents refused to be accounted for. She and Mr. Browley had a grave and lengthy discussion over the missing forty. Each accused the other of frivoling the sum away and neglecting to enter it on the proper book. “Sundries.” Mr. Browley insisted sternuously be was not guilty; Mrs. Browley looked pained and urged him to confess. He left for downtown vowing vengeance. It was late that afternoon when Mrs. Brbwley was entertaining a roomful of aristocratic callers that a telegraph boy appeared; The maid brought In the fatal yellow envelope and at once the bride knew her husband had been fatally injured and was sending for her. Some one revived her with smelling salts, a lady in purple velvet fanned her with a hastily snatched lamp shade and a third visitor with more presence .of mind than the rest opened the telegram. The message read: “Honest, now, wliat did you do with that forty cents?”— Chicago News.

IT IS EASY TO GAIN WEIGHT.

How Geskie Pnt On Half a Pound an Hour for Two Days. The physicians of Trenton, N. J., are puzzling their heads over the remarkable case of Joseph Geskie, who increased his weight twenty-four pounds in two days by lying in bed and eating cinnamon buns. Geskie appeared at a recruiting station a few days ago. He was the picture of distress. His clothes were in tatters and he had a hungry look. “I want to jine the army,” ne said to the recruiting officer. “I’ve hoofed it all the way from Connecticut, an’ reckon I don’t look as cute as I might, but I c’n fight an’ I’ll show up all right, I guess, in a uniform.” When Geskie got on the scales he tipped the beam at 128 pounds. “Too light for our use, young man,” said the officer, “you ought to weigh up in the forties somewhere.” Two days later Geskie reappeared at the recruiting station, looking the picture of health. His face was full and his stomach well rounded. “I reckon I c’n hit the mark now,” he said, as he walked across the room and stepped onto the scales. The officer weighed him and he struck the 152pound notch. The officer was astonished and searched Geskie’s clothes for hidden weights, but could find none. “How did you manage it?” he asked. “It’s easy enough,” Geskie answered. “I’ve been able to change my weight ever since I was a boy. I went to a hotel an’ went to bed, I bought three dozen cinnamon buns an’ eat ’em as fast as I could.” The name of Joseph Geskie w r as added to the list of volunteers.

Hesse’s Grand Duke.

The Grand Duke of Hesse is skillful with the needle, and his embroidery Is said to be beautiful. He takes the greatest interest In his work, and is particularly clever In the arrangement of colors. He has a very artistic nature, as he is devoted to music, dancing, and acting, but he does not care muen about more active pursuits, though ht» both shoots and rides.

The Lottery of Marriage.

An Atchison girl boasted a few years ago that two men were so anxious to marry her that she drew straws to see which she would take. She drew the wrong straw. —Atchison Globe.

Capital Punishment In Greece.

A curious criminal law exist* la Greece. A man who Is there sentenced to death waits two years before the execution of the sentence.

Progress in Grand Rapids.

The city of Grand Rapids, Mich., expended nearly 1300,000 for Improvements during the past year. The best way to keep on the right side of people Is not to let them get on Urn wrong side of you.

TARIFF RETALIATION

ALARMS CONJURED UP TRADERS. - - r —-- “ No Basis in Fact or Probability for Their Predictions Resrardinx the Formation of a European Trade Alliance Against the United States. Those who no' confidently prophesy foreign tariff combinations against the United States may be riglily suspected, of allowing their wishes to influence tlieir judgment. Apparently they would like to see \Vhat they expect to see. The dire possibilities of International trade war are conjured up by free-traders and former protectionists as the strongest possible argument—indeed, the only possible argument—ln favorof theabandonmeut by the United States of the protective policy. So we are told nearly every day that European countries are conducting secret negotiations looking toward a trade combine against this country, and that our only safety in this emergency is to repeal the Dingley law and get right down to an unrestricted trade basis. First of all, there Is no evidence whatsoever of the existence of a plot to form a continental tariff alliance against the United States. Still less •evidence is there of the contemplation of a European alliance. If a European combine should be attempted, Great Britain would have to be left out of it, and Great Britain is very much the best customer the United States has among European countries. England must have our foodstuffs and raw materials, and she is not going to join anybody in a scheme whose object is • to make those commodities cost more in the British market. Coming to the possibility of a continental combine, we And little more likelihood of it on the continent than in Great Britain. Germany has been making some experiments along the line of discrimination against American products, and her experience Is instructive. Consul Diedrich writes from Bremen to our State Department some pertinent facts relative to the operation of the inspection law whereby importations of American corned beef and other beef products are prohibited. Not long ago Dr. Karl Frankel, professor of hygiene in the University of Halle, declared that this law is nothing more than a cloak, faded and worn, hung over the agrarian idol. He showed that, while the Government had declared that the passage of the law was required in the interests of public nealth, “nothing suffered more from said law than did the public health of the nation. The prevailing high prices of meat necessarily lessened Its consumption, while the health of the nation demanded an Increase,” As a matter of fact, fully one-half of Germany’s population is to-day suffering hardships by reason of such tariff discrimination as Germany has thus far seen lit to Impose against American foodstuffs in obedience to the demands of the German agricultural Interests, and it does not seem probable that the situation will be subjected to any additional strain of the same sort.

Excepting Russia, all the continental countries of Europe are more or less dependent upon the United States for their food supplies and certain raw materials; while Russia, albeit independent of us in the matter of subsistence, must either buy a considerable line of manufactured products from us, or else pay a higher price for them elsewhere. The situation and outlook as to a European trade alliance of any kind against the United States are well summed up by the Baltimore Herald, as follows: “When it comes to building universal tariff walls, this country might suffer a depression in trade, a slackening in industrial progress; but Europe would sustain from such a course not stagnation alone, but utter prostration. In any case, we would have an abundance of all things for the home supply. Another result would soon ensue—the underfed millions of Europe would begin to swarm to our shores in an increasing ratio, looking for relief from unbearable home conditions. If any nation can stand alone and depend entirely upon her own resources, this nation can. Most surely In the squeeze of a tariff war, we should not be the first to cry quits.”

Tom Johnson and Bryan. On the morning before thq election of the Hon. Tom 1,. Johnson as Mayor of Cleveland, by a plurality of nearly G,000, the principal Republican newspaper of that city, the Leader, remarked: “Tom Johnson’s election would put new heart luto Bryanism In this part of the country.” The oue thing certain Is that Mr. Johnson’s election will not put new heart Into Bryau, in his part of the country. The main result will not be to reluvlgorate Bryanism, but to Invest what we may call Tomjolmsoulsm with a political Importance In Ohio, and perhaps elsewhere, which It has not previously possessed. For TomjohnsonlSm Is as different a thing from Brynulsm ns Tom Johnson Is different individually from the leader of the Democracy In the last two Presidential contests. Both of these eminent and interesting gentlemen are politicians of the opportunist school, but their opportunism Is not of the same sort. It Is easy to exaggerate the significance of the recent municipal elections In Ohio, In which no national question was Involved and no Issue warranting the Idea that there has been the slightest political reaction during the five months since that State gave McKinley and Roosevelt a majority of 70,000 New York Sun. The Fceptfcr of Power. .«■ ; Over and above the excess of exports which our own country shows

In comparison with Great Britain and Germany, it has this great advantage—namely, a large balance of trade in its fsfvor, as against a small balance for Germany and a balance the other way for the British islands. Th.e great American trad£ balance stimulates home industry, protects its money supplies and is steadily making the world its debtor. The scepter of commercial and financial power, so long in the hands of England, is being transferred to this nation, which, from all present indications, will hold It for generations? to come.—Topeka Capital. Thines Are Different Now. Mr. Jerry Simpson, some time a member of Congress from the State of Kansas, according to a Kansas dispatch, has just sold cattle to the amount of $7,223, and has received every cent but S2OO of this amount in cash. It was Mr. Simpson who, as the Kansas City Journal recalled, stated upon the floor of Congress, not so many years ago, that the men of his district were selling their honor and the women their virtue for bread. But that statement was made during the time when we were trying the experiment of a “change” from protection to free trade. Things are different now in Kansas, as in the rest of the country. Free trade no longer paralyzes the industries of the country, and Mr. Simpson is no longer a member of Congress. It was the return of economic sanity, which Kansas shared in common with the rest of the country, which retired Mr. Simpson to private life. Yet Mr. Simpson cannot consider this change of view on the part of his constituents and others as wholly unkind to him, for, while it resulted in his retirement to private life, it at the same time, as now appears, made his private life a prosperous one. And probably down deep in his heart Mr. Simpson prefers the actualities of protection prosperity even to the opportunity of making sensational speeches in Congress concerning the poverty of his constituents, such as was afforded to him in free trade days. Ascuinaldo and His Champions. If Aguinaklo was worthy to be called “the George Washington of the Philippines” he cannot violate his oath of allegiance to the United States without sacrificing his personal character as a man of honor, which is essential to patriotic leadership. A man who has vio l lated his oath, given under solemn circumstances can never Inspire confidence again. Hence, Aguinaklo is disposed of, as a leader of Insurrection, unless his character Is as bad as some have painted it. If he is the man that th# anti-imperialists have proclaimed him to be he must keep his oath. Alas! for Sulzer and Lentz and Pettigrew; alas! for Bryan, too, that they are placed in this embarrassing position! First they said the United States army could never put down the Philippine insurrection. But it did. They said Aguinaldo would never give up. But he has. If they now assert he was influenced by the flesh pots of Manila, or money, then they must have been sadly mistaken in dubbing him “the George Washington of the Philippines.” If they were right in that estimate of his Intelligence and his fitness for leadership, then they must accept Ills belief that it Is for the best that American authority shall be accepted.—Kansas City Star.

The World la a Good Customer.

Why Should We Be Foollah? “I favor repealing uot a few sections of the pingley Tariff bill, but the whole act. The United States is too strong commercially to erect a barrier against the world. For the good 'of Its own people, It should throw open Its markets to the world.”—Judge Harmon, Cleveland's Attorney-General. We are “too strong commercially” to take down the barrier that hgs made us so. Why should we throw open our markets to the world nud impoverish our own people? Does Judge Harmon open his house to the rabble? Does he send every clleut that comes to his rival attorney? The government slioujd protect the Interests of Its family the same as any parent employs safeguards for his children. And the less Judgment the Individual has the more prohe needs. Bryan’s M indie. Mr. Bryau did not know when he cabled Agulnaldo an offer to open the columns of the Commoner to Insurgent pleading that “Aggy” had already taken the oath of allegiance to the United States and had gone over, bag and baggage, to Imperialism. “Oaths are but words, and words wind,” and Agiilnnldo may change his miud; but to all appearances the cost of that cable message will prove a dead loss to the Commoner.—Philadelphia Record. The Irreconcilable* st Home. The Filipinos In safety In tohls country say that they will fight on. The FlHpiuos in the Philippines are surrendering.—Philadelphia Psewi.