St. Joseph County Independent, Volume 20, Number 35, Walkerton, St. Joseph County, 23 March 1895 — Page 2

Jr -kt wJ I w Bflg^^ CHAPTER XlV—Continuod. Never, never will little Henry’s father forget that day—a lovely April day. half storm, half sunshine, toward evening wholly sunshine. And that mad bird, that loud-voiced mavis, singing incessantly in the sycamore tree- he covered his ears to deaden the sound. All the sound he cared to hear ami his very soul seemed concentrated in listening-was the moving of feet in that room up stairs, where the'terrible battle for life was goiog on. ami during which In* seemed himoeif io bo dying a liuiidred deaths. lie did nothing, absolutely nothing, hour after hour: what was there for him to do? Once, catching sight of the pile of letters those happy letters, which nobody had thought of posting he rose mechanically, in order to put them away somewhere, and in looking about found his wife's work-basket, just as she had h ft it, the needle still sticking into the unfinished frill. Would it ever be tinisln d ? With a gasp and a wild stare round, as if to call to her—to appeal to her she, who had never before forsaken him thus, been missing when he wanted her, or silent when he < a led—h *st iz< d ami kissed it. Then he put every thing in its place again, including her garden shawl, which ho folded up with his helpless Itamis ns tenderly as if it had been a living thing, ami sat down again in the same chair, with his head dropped on his hands. Presently he had to arouse himself, ami aimak a few common-place words to Sir John, who came to fetch Lady Symington home to dinner: people must. dine, ami the dear old lady looked exhausted. She went up to Roderick and kissed him bade him ho|»e still while there was life tin re was hope; but nevertheless urged upon him that Inst solemn prayer, which often seems to bring back the very blessing it resigns—“ Thy will be done." “I can’t say it - I can’t!” he answered the young man to whom anguish such anguish as this—was utterly unknown. j But after she had left, promising to come again before midnight, he fell down on j his knees, ami in an agony such as he had ■ not believed any man could pass through i and live, he said it. After that ho seemed to grow quieter, i and ready to accept everything. By and by the Doctor came down to him for a minute, with an anxious face but a cheery voice. “Take heart, my dear fellow. As I said, while there’s life there’s hope. Do

not go near her. By and by I'll fetch you. ^should there come a change.” “A change? For the better?" “Yes. Or uhat they call a lightening before death.’’ Death and her! The two ideas seemed impossible—irreconcilable. Shuddering. Roderick turned aw ty from the old man. who did not mean to be cruel, who even put his hand kindly on the young fellow's shoulder and again bade him "keep up." that all was being done that could be done; that he had seen many a worse ease; and so on, and so on. But Roderick | heard it all as one in a dream, and direct- i Jy afterward, heaving the sound of a ear- | riage. and believing it was only Black who always meant well, but the sight of ! whom would almost madden him just ; then, he bolted out of the long window. : and went and hid himself in the darkest ; depths of the glen. When he ventured back into the house the lire had died out only a solitary can die was left burning on the table. He ; stole upstairs and listened at Irs wife s door. \ll was quiet. There was not even the sound of the doctor s quick, resolute voice; he must have gone away.. Then all hope died out of Roderick s heart. Groping his way back to the parlor, he sat down in his old seat, waiting in a sort of stupefaction for the final blow, and repeating to himself over and over again a line which seemed persistently to “beat time to nothing" in his overstrained brain—< hhello's piteous moan. “My wife! What wife? 1 have no wife!” Perhaps even now he. too. had no wife. All tin- sweet days were over, her brief happiness was ended, her young life done. And lie? Such a loss is a common story. Many a young man had lived though it living long after it— perhaps won another wife, and had many other children, and been very happy, aparently; but I question if he was ever quite the man he was before, and 1 think he would hardly be a true man if some little bit of his heart was not forever buried in his dead wife s gmv e.

The candle burned itself out, ami the moonlight, creeping in between the undrawn curtain, was beginning to fill tin' room with a pale, ghostly light, when Roderick heard the door open, and some ■one enter very gently and hesitatingly. ■ “Well?’’ he said, not lifting his head, not doubting it was the summons of doom. No answer: but the intruder came close to him ton lied him. “Who's that?" he said, almost fiercely; “who's that?" “It’s me. Rody; it’s your mother." “Oh. mother, mother!" V’or one moment her arms were round , his neck and his head on her shoulder. ; Then he thrust her w .b-mly away. “1 don’t want my mother; I want my wife. What of my wife? Is she alive.* “Yes. And she will live. And I thought I'd be the first to come and tell you. Do you hear, Rody? She's safe—quite safe. Both doc tors say so. Thank God!thank God! Oh, Rody. my son, my son. ()nce more she opened to him those fond mother-arms which no man can resist no man ought to resist —and let him sob his hear! out there, patting him. kissing him, treating him almost as if he had been a little 'hild, and sobbing herscif the while with undisguised, uncontrollable emotion. “How did you come, mother? Since when have you been here? “Ever so long, my dear." “I was never told.” “No; I went straight up to her. It did not matter; she knew nobody. The doctor is a friend of mine; he let me be with her.

I He knew I understood. I nearly died myself when you were born. Oh, Body, what you must have suffered this day! Let me look at you, my boy - my dearest boy!" It was a sorrowful gaze for both mother and son. Gradually Roderick's manner hardened, and he loosed himself from her dinging hands. Never mind me; it is my wife wo must think about. 1 beg your pardon, mother, but 1 must go and sec her—my wife whom you hate, whom you were so cruel to. But 1 love her. She is more to me than anything or anybody in this world. 1 don’t know why you come here. I never asked you to come. Still, I thank you for . ] coming But there is not the least ocea- £ sion for you to slay." , He rose up. with his cold, proud manner, so like his father's. His mother, halt frightened, as if she thought he . hardly knew what he was about—perhaps I he did not, poor fellow! stood before I him silently wringing her hands. > “I repeat there is no need for you to , trouble yourself about us in any way. If my wife lives, and you say she will ; live, she and I are quite sufficient to one । another Will »on, sit down? <'an I J get yon anything? <>r shall 1 order a i carriage, that you may go home at once?" "Oh. Body, Body! Me your mother!” She burst into tears, such tears as it is terrible to see an old woman shed. And Mrs. .Jardine was an old woman , now. Ihe struggle between her heart - i and it was a good honest heart, after i all and her tierce indomitable will had ■ i told upon her severely, Gov^d her son , have seen her face he might have traced ■ there the wrinkles of many added years. ; As it was. he felt that the hand which • grasped him shook as with palsy. "Body. 1 wish you to say one word.” < ‘mild a son expect his mother to beg his pardon'' Would he not have been tin unworthy son to have let her do tiny such thing? Was it not far better for him. under an) circumstances to have done just what he did ? He dropped on his knees beside her, ! and laid his head in her lap. exactly as I when he was he;- little boy. I “Mother, mother, forgive me! Let us forgive one another." “Oh, yes. yes! Come baek to me, my son. my onl\ son!" There was no other apology or explann lion than this, neither now or at any fu ture time between them. Both avoided I it, and so best. Il is always safer not to touch a half-healed wound. Besides. i We are nolle of ns perfect, God knows; ’ and some of us see our faults all the plain . er when no one points them out, but they : are left entirclv between ourselves ami । I Him. “And now." said Roderick. anxiocsly, I “tell mo about my wife." "Poor lamb! poor lamb! 1 have born with her these two hours. She thought it was her own mother, for she spoke a few wmds in I'reneh and railed me ‘mamma.’ Tell her. Body, that Mrs. Jardine turned away, and again

burst into honest, irrepressible tears. "But still, mother, how did you come? : How did you hear?" She <ould not speak, but she put into his hand a little note, dated two days be fore, written in pencil, and in n hand very feeble, very shaky, but neat ami clear. , “Dear Mi Black: If you should hear I am likely to die. will you go at once 1o Rieherden ami fetch Mrs. Jardine? Yon knoii hi r. No one will comfort my bus band like his mother. Yours truly. ■ SILENCE JARDINE.” “And now.” said Mrs. Jardine, smiling ; through her tears, the brightest, sweet I est smile, Roderick thought, that he had ever sein on her face, “go to your wile, and let me go to mv grandson. My son will not now want his mother to comfort him. thank the Lord!" CONCLISION. A uarm. honest heart and a generous ‘ nature will cover a multitude of sins lor let us sai errors espeeiuHv in a grand I m.'imim:. (tier that baby s cradle the (hearts of the two women, young Mrs. Jardim* and old Mrs. Jardine, soon < ame to meet tn the most wond. rful way; as I they met, too. over another thing, or ■ rather person -often nn endless "bom' of ! contention” between mother-in-law and I daughter-in-law n hen they happen to be : weak, selfish or jealous women, which । these w< re not the man whom eat h loved | best of all the world. Roderick's wife and mother, however । opposite their characters, hail certain i points in common, out of which grew an unmistakable sympathy. namely, strength ; of will ami thorougiiness of purpose, I great sincerity and affectionaieness. the power ol sell tlevotion ami an entire ahsen that petty egotism which is al- , ways on the watch to guard its own rights, ami has no vision for anybody's i rights except its own. Besides, meeting her son afresh, as it were, with that great gulf of sorrow between, which had sorely changed both him and her, and finding him Huw a man—a husband ami a father .. .... I

in many ways very different from the । ••boy ’ she had been accustomed to think ! him. Mrs. Jardim' bad the sense to accept i the position and make the best of it. I'or her son’s wife the “poor lamb." as | 1 she had called her. and whom, as Roder- ' i< k afterward found out. her good sense, firmness ami devoted care, coming in at ttie last ebb of hope. had greatly contributed to save from death—Mrs. Jardine' took to loving her, as strong natures are prone to love those whom they have saved and who depend upon them, as for many days Silence had to depend upon I her practical mother-in-law, in that total. • sweet helplessness whic h was the very i best thing to win the old woman s heart. She- was an old woman now —no doubt I about it -and years ripen and sweeten i manv women to an almost incredible dej gree* Besides, as Silence often whispered I to her husband when little things jarred ' upon him and irritated him, she was his I mother, and she loved him. in her own ! odd way. perhaps, but with a love ot which there' could be no doubt and no denial. Still, even love can work no mint- ■ elos, nor blend together opposing natures characters and lives into sudden and everlasting harmony; and when, having . nursed her "child,” as she called Silence, into comparative health, and given her . i erambbild his grandfathers name, Mrs. j j :ir <li ne proposed to go home, earnestly I begging her son to leave Blackball and 1 come and settle in Richerden. Roderick 1 I gentlv but steadily declined. He did not r say no. even to his own wife, but he felt ■ l it would be far better that they two

' f thouhl continue to live at Blackball and his mother and sisters at Rieherden. All, and especially Bella, were quite “well and happy,” Mrs. Jardine said. How much sho knew of the events of last Christmas, or the differences between Mr. and Mrs. Alexander Thomson, did not transpire. At all events, she never talked about these troubles; it was now “respectable.” ] But despite their diverse way of view-1 ing things, there was a straightforwardness and right-heartedness about Roderick's mother which, when her son saw it through frosh, clear eyes, and especially through his wife’s eyes, sufficed to blind him wholesomely to her faults. No fear of any more “difficulties” to the end of their days. And when, the last Sunday slu' was with him, ho went, a little against his will, but just to please her. to 'he ugly Presbyterian Church six miles off, and, sitting between his wife and his mother, listened to the singing, rather nasal and drawling, but not unsweet, of the 23d Psalm, “My table Thou hast furnished In presence of my foes: My head with oil Thou dost anoint, And my cup overflows,” his heart melted, for he felt his cup did] indeed “overflow” ] His “table,” too, was likely to be “fuj nished" -bother than he had once had aOM hope of. When his mother spoke of bus® ness matters, amt iuniat-ed nu 19 i glviugj up his work al the mill, and living as a J “gentleman,” ho had refused point-bhinM declaring his determination to carve otiij his ow n fortune, and make his own inde-J p< ndent way in the world. But when, on the day of baby’s christening, he found that Mrs. Jardine, who never did things bi halves, and was as generous in her loves as ungenerous in her dislikes, had settled upon baby's mother -not father—a sum of several thousand pounds, sufficient to remove all fear of the future from the parents' hearts, Roderick was deeply moved. “She is a good woman—my mother! My father wtis right to respect her and love] her. as he did to the very hist. God bless! them! I have need to be proud of both] my parents." ] "Yes." said Silence, gently, as shoi stooped and kissed her son, who Jay fasti asleep on her hip. But her ow n life taught]] her to understand other lives; what were/ and what they might have been. ! Ami her life is all before her still, for', she is yet comparatively a young woman, I though her boys and she Ims not one, but i several begin to measure heights with ’ her. and to reckon how soon they will be . “up to mother’s shoulder." “Father" is a ' standard which none of them hope to ar- ] rive at, either physically, mentally, or] morally. To be so tall, so clever, or so | good as he mme of these lads could ever j imagine such a thing. They do not mere- I ly love him. they adore him. And they lire right, or nt least two people, their mother and th-ir grandmother, believe so. : Roderick Jardim- lives still at Black- I hall, keeping up the old family home in ] comfort, but yet in great simplicity, as is : wisest, with his increasing family. Re-i sides, his early experiences have given! him a horror of luxury, of that wealth i which is mere wealth and nothing more.! The Jardines of Bhi< khall hold themselves to !«• truly "rich" people. l>ecamM-i they always have a little more than thej( spend they use their money " V'mdf abutting it, ami therefore enjoy it uttermost, and cause other* besides selves to enjoy it. too. But their sous all brought up to abhor extravagam* , waste, or self indulgence. aware that each will have to make his own waj in the world, ns is l>est for every man. and | woman, too,pi-rhaps. Samet me- Roder ’k says if he had many girls he would bring them up. like the buys, to earn their own living as their mother once did -o that they might taste the sweetness of imlep< ndent bread, and m-ver he tempted for aught but love. But he has onlv me girl, his little"Tacitn" her : ght name is Silence. but he will not have her •■ailed So sine of “papa’s odd way s.“ is in grows older. He may never be. strictly -p- iking, a “great" man, but everybody recognizes J him as a cultivated man of very consider- ; able talent "known in the gates," as his wife delightedly sees, every year more and more. But it is more by his pen than his personality, for he seldom goes from home, except once a year to Rieherden to seo his mother and th” family. A not too attractive faindy. blit he is very kind to them, even to Mrs Alexander Tpcm -su and her numerous brood of sickly, illtempered children, whom she brings with her sometimes to get a breath of whole- ■ some life, within and without, in the hap- i pi atmosphere of Blackball. “Young Mrs. Jardine." as she continues to be called, for old Mrs. Jardine may live to be ninety, still looks so young, so | fair! her peaei fid. contented heart shining through her “heavenly eyes. I'he world has never heard of her. never will hear, except through her husband ami her sous. She dues not "shine in society.” though she is well able io keep up the dignity of the family wherever she goes. But of her own dignity, her own praise, she thinks very little, having, indeed, far too many other and more important things to think about. As wife, :is mother, as mistress, her burdens are often pretty heavy, but never more than she can bear. And he. helps her. as sho helps him—the husbnnd of her vonth. who will, please God. be the’ fr.THifullest, f.md.-! lover f h.-ro’d That time is still a good way oft, nndt they may yet have much to bear together. They will bear it, because it is borne together. And I think, if any one were to ! ask Roderick Jardine what has been in I plain English the backbone of his lite, his preservation from evil, his incent tie to all good, he would say it was that strong first love and venturous early marriage; because ho had sense to see and to i take hold of the blessing that heaven i drop lin his path—that treasure “above ! rubies” which most men desire, and so . few win. or deserve to win. But Roderick i did. He says sometimes that he should like to have carved on his tombstone, as 1 the root of all his happiness, all his suei cess, that line written by one great and i good man of another perhaps the noblest . iraii of this century• | “Who loved one woman, and who clave to. her.” “But,” he adds, “it mo because myt ' wife was Silence Jardine. (The End.)

Jawbreakers. Maine is justly proud of the fact that' only a native can pronounce the names, of her lakes trippingly on the tongue,but the names of Maine are e asy beside these ami others from the Canadian Province of Ontario: Lake Misquabenish, Lake Kashagawigamog; and Lake Kahwcambejewagamog. i Canada is a little larger than the; , : I ’nited States.

> p.. .. .. — ffEEASURY ISGAINING J r ^L’l COME TAX Exp ECTEDTO ■ MAKE ACCOUNTS BALANCE. fi Iteceipte for Four Months to June 30 , Expenses-Complete State^ment o f Government Finances from V 1892 to 1893, Both Inclusive. D efivit Is Now $38,000,000. wVvOuington correspondence ■ jp An analysis of the Federal treasure's ^fendition shows the Government's finann°W ' vorkin » "d” »><‘tter shape. T ry h!IS r,,n Ilbo ”t $38.^(X), 900 thus far this current fiscal vear ^nince July 1, 1804), but unless calculaHlons are sadly at fault the record for lon . Ur ,non,lls ‘he year, to June WBO, will show an income equal to the out- ■ VuHtouis And iutornul revenue rogeeipts are on a bed-rock hard-times basis f Any change must be in the direction of s T ,l ” deficit last year (Juiv, 1 1893. to June i v.H, m. t.’ I 900,000 in round figures. This year ( Juli’ 1 ISIM- to June, ISOS. inclusive)'the slmrt■l w '** approximate $38,000,000 Next L^-ear (1895-tJ) there should be a hand Kps...me surplus, with revenue laws tinEl T? delve somcwliat into detail it may stated that receiftts from customs are ^tinning about $100,900 a day ahead of T»r44?ir» ir ’ Deeasiomtl sfiurts to S3<M),O<M) lor $400,n.i0 a v increase suggest a grow- || tug drift in the direction of enlarged revenues from that source, but SIOO,OOO a Lany is a fair average of the daily increase, B&nd there is really nothing in sight to jusRtfy expectation of a further swell for ■evera! months. The customs receipts ®or the first eight months of the current ! Wtscal year (July, 1894. to March, 1895) I ’aggregated $99.920.11 !.(«>, as compared with $01,015,138.97 during the corregsponding period of 1893-4. A monthly ■average of $1,3,000.000 during the four wlast months of the fiscal year will put the I footings for the year above $l5O otiO - g 009, or $18,099,099 over last year. The B receipts from “internal revenue” for the 0 first eight months of the fiscal vear were nearly $5,009,009 ahead of 1593-9 I for I the corresfsmding period, the tofu] t„ : March 1, IS9I, and 1S!)5. respectively, i being $10))..>01.913.t>9 and $95.250,239.!H>. More than one-half of tin- revenue of the I first eight months of the present fiscal year was collected in July and August. ! 1 and on Sept. 1 )u S ( (| lp amount collected ; was $18,000,000 greater than on the cor- . responding date of the preceding year. , > '1 his diffi>rem e dwindled to $5,090,000 during the succeeding four months, and the internal revenue receipts are now running SIOO,OOO a day behind hist year ]on an average. At the present rate of decrease the revenues from that source i would aggregate not more than $138,- ' ,b '’ e,lt irt' fiscal year, against $140,722,700.17 for the year 1893 94, a j falling off of $9,000,000 approximately. I he Beeretnry of the Treasury relies with eonlidetme .in getting in $15,000,000 i from ineotm- tnx fmyimmts before the end ! of June, which would swell the cash com , ing in through Internal revenue channels | to the neighlw.rh.s.d of $153,000,000, or alsive hist year’s total. In

I y-V? i,>M U* ruivaiw Uviu vuxtomw nnd • । Qlll - Ika > t i>.,< n,e lOoTcrtum-nt <le '■ r i -m mG s-mi CM rile tremull looks jut the end of tin* current imr. June lio. ’ should show something like this; Received from customs.... $159,990,900 Reeeiied from internal rev enue 153.000,000 Riveived from miscellaneous twurees 15,900,000 Total 5.".1 5.000.00 n The expenses of carrying on the Gov- I ernment from Juli 1, IS'.H. to March 1. 1895. ivere $247,173.(579 35. It is be- । Hered that the total expenses for the ‘ year can be kept within $355.900,000, or , SIO,IMSI.IM>O below the year I S;i;i'.if, Jf these expectations are fulfilled the deficit for the entire year will approximate $1,8,000.000. Non s,:s.isio t ooo is just about ; the shortage nt the present writing. It will be seen, therefore, that it is the hope ' and purpose of the treasury to keep the Government on an oven financial keel I ' during the remaind-r of the fiscal year. Whatever it may run behind during March, April and May will be made up lu June from the income tax. Receipts mid Dislmrsenients. The following sumarization of the Governmental receipts and disburse- ■ ments by months for the last two years 'will prove of great value to readers of ; . this paper in arriving at an intelligible ■ understanding of the present treasury j situation. Th se figures are obtained from the records of J. Worthington Ford, ! treasury statistician, and are official: RE' Elrrs FROM tTSTOMS. ! Months Is'.G-'.H. 1893-94. Julv ? s. 127.3:;5.4.; $ H.n.Sj.fHl'.i.tn i August 1 i.soj.mt.gi r.’.i-ti.f>2t;.2s I September .... l*>.s»>4.!ifio.s(J Ig.aGD.TTG.Ia October ll.'Alg.l is. 17 1f).!iP9.531.45 November .... 10.2(>0,ti'.r2.5n lO.'.’lS.tJb.S.iM i December .... ll”o::.om m P.1.-G.gla.W January 17,::Gl,!»li; 2.7 11.4.74.503.14 February .... 13,334,001.99 1n.390.72-S. 13 March 11.3.75.!i54.t;7 April 10.17U.W1.36 I May 9.798,067.25 • June s.s.-,s x7i; >;;;

-rx ~ - •-VT7-RT ll XT T ’ Months - fsti.c'.ij. fsplJM. Julv .. .S 2.7.200. is । m.> S 1 t.'.sn, 12, ..><> 1 August 27.5'12.275.50 lo.oi^isi-. Uh Sept»‘inber .... 6. ISJ. 1 49.4 » 11 i October 6,493.43i).22 12,T0U99.4S November .... *.« < 4.<h 4.3- I—oa4jH>.h;>.S , Docombcr .... 9,394,039.3.) 12,0,>t>,3J3-]«> i January . 9h:; UMW.GS I<l7ll .G 49.21 ' February ’ ‘ • s.-bn, HO.J3 1!,05«U03.!>9 : Aprn h :::::::::::: ‘44^ ] IA '^l7 ; June . ; Total $146,722,760.17 ' i First 8 mos. ' fiscal vear. .?100.501.913.69 95.280,239.96 : i RECEUTS FROM ALL SOURCES. Months lsU5-'.»4 l j u ] v S 31.509.339.75 $ 30.90;>, i 03.19 1 ! August 4'>,4i>7.t>05.5l 23 < 8 , ,m>.8.85.30 : September . ... 22.62 L22sss 24.;>82. i.>6.10 [ ' October 19.139,240.10 24.55;:.3!M.!i< . (November .... 10.41 L4('3.98 23,9.9.400.00 ■ i December ... . 21,806,136.82 22,312.021-00 January 27.si>i.:;'.ih.71 February 22.888.057.00 22.2t>! .2W.40 * March I May"::::::: 3 333333 “ajmwuxi " June — 26. t 5.7,1.2., .2

Total $293,664,360.89 1 fiscal' voar. . 5205.947.412.05 519G.57fi.277.99 RECORD OF EXPENDITPRES. Months- 1895-94. 1893-94. July ....* 3G.fit5.852.53 $ 39,675.888.60 August 31.656.636.85 33,305,228.48 Semember .. . 80.323.0i5.Gl 20.478,010.17 October 32.713,039.89 29.588.792.34 November ... 28,477,i58.79 31,.’0_.0-6.41 December ... 27.135,400.55 30,058,260.51 January 34,523.447.00 31 .009.669.0 j February 25,696.035.13 -•>. March . . ~1,137.060.—4 I April " 32,072,836.42 I Mav 29.779.140.52 juke:::::::: 25,557,021.23 I Total *s2 47,173,679.35 $365,989,808.75 ‘ •Els&i cioofit

Much encouragement can be extracted * ™ m P" r ''«on of the completed PiLn e 7 Department returns of our foreight m?i n H rCe / 0 ^ Febri,ar y and the first figures fnr W ’ e fl ” Cftl ypnr ' with th « the vear corresponding periods of Jar immediately preceding The ' Vi,rrnnt ,ll “ <•«"- the naniekv recovering from this l . d< ‘‘" ro to throw baek upon <uh* ivliitions nre apain becomn g normal. Kroni Jline To March 1 1894, Europe p ;li<l an a(lv ’ pr ^ (MS), l,!,| ance of $218,000,. ' ’’J' *'>“.<H»0.000 in gohl and $05,000 . Efim of American pro- -- of iß')4-5 h G " to ' vi,lli " fortnight) show a n CKhandise trade balance against Fu "X ■ : Tl.„, talnX not "'th American securities, while $4“ 0(S r‘ S this co ""’ry for ' additional go to show that <•.ntx-s to that value were also thrown back upon the markets, indicating a total l,a, ' kH<,w Os $134,000,000, or spOm.m’^J?.. J ll ; ri “S 'he correprospect Would be blue, tneien ’b I “■ r “ "/' H lik “ li h”"'l that fornt 11 obl 'K’" i <>">‘ " ere eoming b.uk for any considerable length of lisMstA ' V< ‘" "I" ^’"''"'’‘hed nite of $17,. 090.000 n month, but the returns for February very clearly mark a turn in the tide. <inb-o/L?' ,llnt ”' iH imported . 1.0bj.000 more gohf than it exfjorfed, and that it bought merchandise in excess of exports by $2,017,000. thus creating an adverse bi la nee of $(1,081,09!». which must have been j>aid with securities. Our securities are beginning to find their nay baek to European investors. The trade balances indicate that during the hist : twenty months, or since July 1. 1893, | this country Ims been obliged to buy back its paper to the market value of $370,(HMI.(MM) I$242,0011.0(10 in the lull fiscal year ISP.'UH ami $1;: 1.1100.000 during the first eight months of 1894-95). ami the prospect of getting out from under a part of this load will be a source of satisfaction to the business world. The process; is not likely to be rapid nt first, hoivDEAD IN THE RUINS. Five Lives rrolmlifv Lost in Toledo Roundhouse Fire. At I oledo, ( )hio, the roof of the Wabash । Railway round house fell in during a fire, ' killing three men and injuring many more. Ihe dead are: John A. Boner, John Leary, John J. Preston, ami the fatallj injured F. Howard. I'. McDonough. Shortly before 10 o'clock in the forenoon people in the vicinity noticed a small 1 laze in the cupola ot the building, evi- | dimtiy kindled fj-om a spark from some j passing locomotive An alarm was sent in and soon the department responded with three engines and hose . arts. When the fire started there were only three I people in the building They were: Levy I M<*iulo. foreman; Jack Finlay, an engi- * icer, mid it machinist named George! lowers. Ilie round-house whistles were | at om e squmpHl am] us many of the emp'.oycs of the company resid.? in the vicinity they were soon on the spe’ There

Mu immediate danger, us ' UH' " . ....if7m 1 4 d. ..r a>. 1 • ruefuro. 'They mshud iiiHidv and on<7 avored to get the engines out to pre- i nut their desirm tion. As nearly all of i them had no wat r in the boilers consid- ! erable delay was occasioned in getting ' them in shape to more. Suddenly the roof was observed to be ( sagging. A cry of alarm went up. bur • the roar of the flames evidently prevented ! the nu n on the inside from hearing it. i nnd ns the cross bar ties of iron support- j । ing the roof gave way the building col- ■ lapsed and fell a mass of ruins. It was known that several people were in the ■ building when it fell and the collapse ( i aiding mntcrinliy in extinguishing the ; | flames, a search of the ruins was made j as -di as possible, revealing the extent ■ (of the tragedy. The.loss of six engines ' de.-troyed is estimated at S|O,O<H); bllild- ’ ing S.YnjHHi; storeroom and miseellani'ous ; stock, Slo.himi. Total. $100,009. It is ( understood an investigation will bo made ; . as to the condition of the building, which ; i has been used about forty years. It . was one of the railway landmarks. The Massachusetts Legislature pro- j i posed to fine every non-voter $5. The Gerry whipping post bill was de- j : fented in the New York Assembly by a

vote of 7>3 to 57. have with the new silver party. Both houses of the Oklahoma Legisla- ' tore have passed a divorce bill which is [ unequalled lor its liberality. I A general tight was narrowly averted ; ; during the discussion of the penitentiary ; ' bill in the Oklahoma Legislature. Dr. Parkhurst excoriates the Lexow : Committee for its utter failure to convict | corrupt New York police officials. Bill granting women the right to vote I for certain township officers was defeat- ! ed in the Illinois Senate by one vote. Michigan legislators have decided to j submit the question of increasing the sal- I aries of State officers to a popular vote. The bill to grant full municipal suffrage . to women was defeated in the lower | brant h of the Massachusetts Legislature, j Lower house of the Wisconsin Assembly decided to appoint a committee to inquire into alleged tax dodging by the railroads. There is a strong probability that Mrs. Mary Ellen Lease will be nominated for Mayor of Wichita, Kan., to oppose a Republic;'. n. Dr. Hay. superintendent of the Nebraska Insane Asylum, refuses to give up control of the institution to his successor, Dr. Abbott. The Kansas Legislature has passed the Eickstein anti-bribery law. It applies equally to the giver and taker of bribes. The penalties attached are Si,000 fine and seven years in the penitentiary, or both.

SPAIN CALLED DOWN, UNCLE SAM DEMANDS A PROMPT APOLOGY. Secretary Gresham Informs the Spaniards that a Recurrence of the Allianca Incident May Lead to War-Our J'lag Must Be Respected. Tart Note Sent to Madrid. The most belligerent message dispatched by this Government to a foreign power since the memorable controversy between the Harrison administration and the Chilians has been conveyed through Minister Taylor by Secretary Gresham to the minister of foreign affairs at Mad -id. A more downright assertion of American rights was never uttered by Mr. Blaine hims.lf It amounts practically to a warning to Spain that a repetition of the Allianea aflair will be considered by his country as a declaration of war. The incident is looked upon in Washm*. ion ns Inou, ti...,. 41^ itinom.ooro 1 import 1 . nem eofa naval commander. The r. voin. : e's," <" *1 " bn * been RU PP° rt, ’d by Am-ri- . <»» ( übans. key W est ami New York . have luriiisli.nl the sinews o war to tl„. revolutionists. Public men ut the apital I have been open in their declarations that the time for annexation of Cuba to this .T""'?’. n<Mr nl The on the Alhanca is taken as an Intimation that Spain will stand no further trifling with Cuban affairs. Mr. Gresham's retort is extremely fiery. In substance, he commands the Spanish Government to apologize ami to promptly instruct its naival commanders not to interfere with ships Hying the American SECKET AII V GRESIIA>I. flag. The friendly relations between this i country and Spain have to be considered ‘ when war talk begins, but th?re is no doubt that in any other circumstances the tone of the message would be provocative of n conflict. The message in full is ns follows;

io tuiivwo. I oTn.t pßimi-nt is informed that f.. | the Sth inst. the United States mail steami ship AHianca, on her homeward voyage from Colon to New York, wliei, six miles from the coast >f Cuba, off (.’ape Maysi. was repeatedly fired upon by a Spanish I gunboat, with solid shot, which, fortunately, fell short. "The windward passage where this occurred is the natural and usual highway for vessels plying between ports of the United States and the Caribbean sea. Through it several regular lines of American mail and commercial steamers pass weekly within sight of Cape Maysi. They are well known and their voyage embraces no Cuban port of call. Forcible interference with them cannot bo claimed as a belligerent act, whether they pass within three miles of the Cuban coast or not, and can under no circumstances be tolerated, when no state of war exists. “This Government will expect prompt disavowal of the unauthorized act and due expression of regret on the part of Spain, and it must insist that immediate and positive orders be given to Spanish naval commanders not to interfere with legitimate American commerce passing through that channel, and prohibiting all acts wantonly imperiling life and property lawfully under the flag of the United States. "You will communicate this to the minister of foreign affairs and urge the importance of prompt and satisfactory response.” One of the precedents which have been unearthed and brought to the attention I of Acting Secretary Uhl as having a , direct bearing upon the Allianca incident was found in the proceedings of the Alabama claims commission. In one of the j decisions announced by Judge French ■ the court held there was no authority for the stoppage or detention of a mail steamer which is pursuing her usual route, even ! if that route lay at places within thw three-mile*shore limit and so within the

marine jurisdiction of the power seeking 1 ^ni.^tWri f’wnl malie reparation mT 1 the action of its cruiser, even should it I appear that the Allianca was within three ■ miles of CMpe Mais, as the Spanish miu- ■ ister in Washington believes. On the other hand, if this decision is not ; in effect then what is known as the head- । land theory of jurisdiction will probably ■ play an important part in the adjustment ■ of the matter. According to the conten- ’ tion of Great Britain in the Fortune Bay fisheries case, in which the United States । has acquiesced, the line of marine juris- ; diction is drawn three miles from a line ' running across from headland to headland ; in the case of a bay or a depression in the i general coast line. The Spanish authorii ties evidently take the position at this ■ time, in the absence of exact advices, that i the Allianca was within such a lino ami so within their jurisdiction, aithough the ship may have been actually more than three miles from the nearest shore. This and That. The word Borneo is of native origin, signifying the land. Abysinuia was the land of the Abyssins or "mixed races." Prussia was at first Borussia, the ; country of the Botussi. Corsica has a Phenician name, meaning “wooded island. ’ Costa Rica is a Spanish expression, I signifying "rich coast.” | Nicaragua was thus named In honor i of a chief named Nicaro.