Chatljam uccoro.
1 lc Chatham - -Itccorfc.
V
- RATES 0F-ADYERT1SIN6-
-...n ,-!sa i.I .A. .1
One square, one insertion v ... $1.00
One square, two insertions 1.50
One square, one month .: . , 2.50
For Larger Advertise-
merits Liberar Con-'
tracts will be made. '
Editor nd Proprietor,
TERMS OF SUBSCRIPTION,
$1.50 Per Year.
Strictly jn Advance
VOL XXVII, PITTSBORQ, CHATHAM COUNTY, N. C., THURSDAY, J 1 L Y 20. (905.
NO. 49.
1In v fti v-(i- 1Lsx a a a vftt) A
li iJi . 1 1 1 1 ' rx fi-ii I r r 'vr 11 1 r r y 'v way. . r rn .
1 1
LUKE; HAMMOND,
-THE. MISER..
By Prof. Win. . Henry Peek,
Of Lisbon,! Etc
CHAPTER XL i
Continued. -
rTwenty years have passed since we
met." muttered Hammond, leaning
back in his chair, "and he is twenty
four years of age. A magnificent man
now, no doubt. I've educated him in
Europe, given him every advantage.
He w ill be in my arms before midnight.
He can push his suit with Catharine
Elgin at once. He is a chip of the old
block, too, I imagine."
. Six o'clock came, and found him still
musing of his past, present and future.
, Then he dined as innocently as if he
was not to commit murder that night,
visited his prisoners, and awaited 0
"o'clock in his library.
Nine o'clock came with a dark and
stormy night at its back, and found
him drinking brandy. A sure sign that
he was excited, and that his nerves
wanted bracing.
At 9.30 old Fan entered and placed a
note in his hand.
"The gent is in the rear parlor," said
Fan. "He is disguised, but I know
him."
, "You know him!" exclaimed Ham
mond, looking up sharply from tlv?
note, the decoy note he had written
that morning. ,
"Yes. It's Mr. James Greene," said
Fan.
i "Where did you ever see him 2" asked
Hammond.
. "Saw him when he repaired that
desk," said Fan, grinning. "Wanted
hot water for his glue, and came to me
in the kitchen. He said the work
'suited a cabinet maker better than a
carpenter. I pretended I was deaf."
. "Yes," said Hammond. "Miss El
gin recommended him, however. How
did you know him in disguise?" -
. "He took it off as soon as he came
in," said Fan.
"Ah! very well. You must forget
him. There's a half -eagle to make yon
forget that you ever saw him," said
Hammond, tossing a coin to her. "Did
you spealc to him?"
f "No. Mrs. Harker told me I was to
be very deaf, stupid and half blind a
year ago, to everybody that don't live
in this house."
f "Right; so did I order you," said
Hammond. "Now listen. You will go
to him and give him this note."
He wrote as follows, forging, of
course: , ,
"Dear James Follow Fan. She will
lead you to me. I dare not meet you in
the parlor, as Mrs. Harker is suspicious
of j-our coming, and will interrupt or
listen to us. Follow Fan she knows
what to do. Your Katy.
"Give him that," said ' Hammond.
"He will read it, and you will lead him
through the dining room, through the
hall, down to the basement, and so on
into the old storeroom near the eastern
wing."
"The old storeroom is heaped with
empty boxes, barrels and the like," said
Fan.
"I made a passage," said Hammond,
"straight as a dart on this side through
to the door on the other. The barrels
and boxes are heaped on either side,
five feet high. The passage between is
four feet wide, the distance from door
to door twenty of your longest paces.
Lead him into the passage ten paces
count them as you step then halt and
eay, 'Wait,-! must get a key.' You will
then leave him and go on to the other
door. Do you understand?" y . . .
Old Fan grew livid and trembled vio
lently. ;
"Mr. Hammond," said she, "there is
a trap door in the middle of that store
room." "Well, what of that?"
"You mean to "
"Never mind what I mean to do,"
aid Luke, fiercely. "Do wb.it I tell
you. I shall keep you in sight from the
moment I leave this room, and if I sus
pect treachery I will blow a ball
through your old back right between
the shoulders, Fan with this, Fan."
He drew a revolver from his bosom
fend cocked it.
"I'm wicked, I know I am wicked,"
said Fan, trembling at the fierceness of
his look, as he glared at her over the
leveled weapon, "but I have never had
a hand in taking a human life! I've
been tempted to do it in my anger of
ten, but I never did. I can't do it in
cold blood no, I dare not, Mr. Ham
mend." 'Tor every step you will count with
James Greene by your side after you
enter the storeroom," said Luke. "I
wiH give you $10. Ten steps make
5100. You do not know what I mean
to do."
She did know, but she was afraid to
tell of it. ' "
"See! the gold!" said Luke, counting
It down upon the table.
Her eyes glistened as she gazed.
"ray me half in advance," said Fan.
"Take half," said Hammond, divid
'n? the heap. "The other shall be yours
In half an hour." v ... .
"Be his blood on your head, not
raine," said Fan, clutching the "gold.
"! told a friend of mine, the woman
-e buy milk of, that if ever old -Fan
as missing to look for me in the well
under the old storeroom." v -
Hammond : turned pale,. . r The , old
woman's cunniae had foiled half of
CopyriKht 1896,
fcjT &OBVBT BONNEB'S SONS.
-AO rijfAt reserved.)
his purpose Hejnearit to slay victim
find accomplice at the same instant.
"You are an idiot!" he exclaimed,
concealing his emotion. -"You are too
useful to me, Fan. I cannot afford to
lose you. Now away James Greene
must be growing impatient.'
"Don't think I'm joking," said Fan,
as she took the second decoy note. "I
did tell my friend to look for me there,
Mr. Hammond. For among wolves
look out for their fangs."
"She has saved her life this time,"
muttered Hammond, as the tunning bid
woman departed, and as he stole after
her "She lives to be a witness against
me. She must die in her bed, and her
friends shall find her there, and not in
the well."
Creeping after Fan, and Unseen by
her, Hammond saw her give the note
to James Greene, Who, all unsuspecting
of assassination, read it with a smilei i
"Poor little Katy," murmured James
Greene, as he kissed the beloved name,
"how she must suffer here. But I' Will
soon make an end of her little anxie
ties. Lead on, Fan."
Fan seemed half asleep He shook
her and made a gesture toward the
door. He thought she Was deaf.
Poor James Greene!
Fan clasped his warm and honest
hand in her cold, dry claws and led
him from the parlor into the pitchy
darkness of the dining' room." She
knew that somewhere in the gloom a
fierce and desperate assassin held eye
and ear ready to detect the slightest
sign of treachery, and a sudden, gnaw
ing pain seemed growing between her
shoulders as she remembered Ham
mond's threat. She remembered, too,
the reward she was to get she felt
half of that reward in her pocket.
When ; in the basement, where
burned a dim light, filling the place
with gloom, she paused in terror. She
had never had a hand in murder, and
she was sixty-seven years old. A very
late age to commit so dreadful a crime.
As she paused, trembling, as James
Greene imagined, with the palsy of old
age, she heard, the clicking of a pistol,
clear and sharp, in the dense darkness
behind her. James Greene heard it,
too, and he started.
"What was that?" he said, close to
Fan's ear, and grasping her arm hard.
"Something snapped."
"A rat trap," said Fan. "We've
caught a rat, I guess. Come on."
She spoke loudly "that some one else
might hear.
An explanation so simple at once dis
armed the slight suspicion of unfair
play in James Greene's mind, and smil
ing at his fears as he felt his strong
muscles subside from their " sudden
swell of alarm, he said to himself:
"I am as nervous as poor Katy was
last night."
They reached the entrance of the
storeroom and here old Fan paused to
still the beatings of her heart.
Click! click! in the gloom again.
- "Come on!" said Fan, and pushed
open the door. "There's old lumber
piled up in here," she said. "I must
step slow and careful, too, sir. This
J-way leads to a flight of stairs that goes
up into a hall where Miss Elgin prac
tices music." .
"Lead on, Fan," said James, smiling
at his strange situation, and wondering
what Hammond would say to find him
there.
Old Fan began to count her steps,
long and slow, feeling the floor with
he,r feet before she rested her full
weight upon the floor. She was not
sure that Hammond believed her story
about a woman friend.
Ten steps!' all taken with an icy
sweat deluging her face, neck and bo
som. Ten steps! She knew she stood
upon a trap door over a dark and noi
some pit fully thirty feet deep!
She halted. r
"Wait! I must get a key!" said she,
and letting fall her victim's hand hur
ried straight on until she reached the
other door.
That instant Luke Hammond, who
had crept after them, turned on a jet
of gas, till then burning a dim, almost
unseen spark near the ceiling, and pis
tol in hand, appeared at the door
through which James Greene had
passed.
"Move a single step and I fire!" said
Hammond, aiming his weapon at the
head of the lover. "Young man, you
are caught!" - "
James Greene was pale and motion
less, and his eyes were fixed in sur
Drise. not fear, upon Hammond.
Luke Hammond held a pistol in his
risht hand, while his left grasped a
rope-which passed through a hole in
the floor at his feet. That rope was
made fast at the other end to a bolt,
which was all that divided Greene
from the well below.
"If I shoot you, James Greene, yon
would die the death of a burglar caught
In the act." said Hammond.
A" gleam in the calm, brae eyes of
James Greene warned the assassin that
his pistol was about to be dared by a
rapid spring.
"You'll see your Katy no more!" ex
claimed Hammond, jerking the cord
with all his strength.
' A clash," a sudden cry of despair, and
then a dark, yawning chasm remained
Where the young man Had stood!
The trap had fallen! James Greest I
naa uisappeareat
"The rftt is fcaugbt!'1 said Hammohd
with A bitter, exulting laugh, so fiend
like that old Fan almost screamed witM
horror.
"Pull at that i-ope near you," said
Hammond; "It lifts the trap back tt
its place."
He dared riot, with all his hardihdoo
gaae down into the well. In his brain
was a fearful picture of what waj
there. Fan heaved at the rope ta
which he pointed, and the trap door
rose slowly to its level. Stepping brisk
ly to it, then, Luke Hammond thrust
his hand through a hole in the floor
near the edge m the trap and shot the
Sustaining bait into its "socket.
"It is set noWi for another perhaps,
he said. "Now, Fan, follow me and
pocket your reward:"
Trembling and pale Fail obeyed and
in the library received her gold;
As'sht placed it that hight lit hei?
hoardihg sack she Said:
"They are speckled speckled red!
But they are mine, and the deed is
Luke Hammond's. There should have
been a splash when James Greene fell;
There, Was u8ne; He" raajr not have
died lie hiay have caught on the way
down he'll get oxit! And I'll lose my
golden birds lose my life.""
The idea so preyed upon her mind
that she watched her chance, and
creeping down to the storeroom
heaped heavy boxes upon the trap, got
nail and Bailed it fast and strong. .
The murder begun, she feared it halt
done. But bruised, stunned, not dead,
James Greene hung by his clothing
only ten feet from the trap caught by
a broken rifti1 that once crossed the
Weil.
For a time we must leave hfm there
CnAPfEIi XI t.
NAXCY HAEKEB SPEAKS.
f Luke Hammond, having paid and
dismissed Fan, sat down to revieAv
what he had done. His face was pale
and tierce, for the deed was too freshly
done to bring remorse, if ever indeed
that feeling found n place in his evil
heaiti
" 'T.s done, and well done, and quick
ly, too," he muttered through his teeth.
"James Greene has now been removed,
and no man saw him enter this house,
He was a brave and dangerous obsta
cle in my path. Thank heaven I all's
well so far,"
Blasphemous villain! to thank heaveri
for the murderous deed!
He set thinking of the work when
Nancy Harker entered cautiously:
She. was pale and excited and whis
pered :
"Is it all over?"
"All. James Greene will trouble u3
no more," said Luke,
"I met old Fan on the stairs," said
Nancy, sitting down, "and she looked
like a ghost. Did she see it done?"
"Unfortunately, she did," replied
Luke, smiting the table with his palms.
" 'Twas my purpose to have her go
down with Greene, but she has guard
ed against such a death."
"She may betray you," said Nancy.
"Betray me!" cried Luke. "Why
should she? She does nothing unless
she is paid for doing it. Who is to give
her gold for telling of what she must
appear as an accomplice in?"
"The disappearance of James
Greene," said Nancy, "will cause much
conjecture and suspicion among his
friends. They or the authorities may
offer a reward for the discovery of his
body; Fan may hear of it and betray
you."
"I can pay higher than any reward
that his friends can offer," said Luke.
"And if I ever suspect her fidelity she
shall find that Luke Hammond's life is
certain death to all who shall attack
it."
"Luke," said Nancy, drawing very
near to him, and speaking very low.
"has old Fan's face a tone in her
voice, a something, I know not what
never reminded you of some one we
once knew, years ago?"
"Yes," said Luke, in a deep and
husky whisper: "and I have tried in
vain to think who that somebody was
"For months it has puzzled me," said
Nancy. "But when I met her just now.
so white, so tottering, the evil of her
face all gone, crushed down by terror.
I remembered whom she looked like.'
"Well, let me hear, and then I may
be as wise as Nancy Harker," sneered
Hammond, as she seemed to hesitate.
"She reminded me," said Nancy, in a
whisper so low that Hammond bent
forward to catch the words "she re
minded me of our grandmother just
before the old woman died."
They rose at once and stared at each
other in horror.
"Nancy," said Luke, going to the
door and locking it, and then coming
back, "perhaps she is our mother!"
'fit cannot be, it must not be!" said
Nancy, sinking into her chair and hid
ing her face.
"If it should be so," said Luke, swal
lowing a great draught of brandy and
trembling s': as to let the glass fall at
his feet, "would you suffer her to know
it?"
"Never!" cried Nancy, "never! But
this suspicion is horrible."
"We must take measures to learn her
history, whoever she is."
"How?" asked Nancy. "I have tried
time and time again to extract infor
mation from her of her past life. She
is suspicious. She has not so much as
told me that she was ever married."
"Daniel hired her. I will summon
him for questioning."
- - To be continued.
A Quick-Growing; Plant.
The bamboo holds the record among
nlants for auick growth. It has been
seen to grow two feet in twenty-four
hours.
- " "
The Island of Sakhalin, the great
penal colony of Russia, has splendid
i forests of fir and pine. -
Making Coo A Conatry Rjada.
iOJ COMMUNITY is known
. j by its roads. Real estate
V O depreciates in market value
ft when bounded by bad high-
lfGt& Ways Cities, towns and
Counties owe much to good
foads; Tlwse fed fortiihate as td enjoy
good roads dd hot realize their value
until theyjocate in a vicinity that has
poorly constructed roads. The annual
visit of the supervisor is not always
appreciated by the farmer or by the
mad Who is compelled by law td work
his required time oil the reads: Tod
Often it is iooked iipori as a -useless
burden; Oftentimes it is sd for th
work is really thrown away. ' Super
visors get in their time and draw their
pay; The real service' of a good road
is often forgotten by officers, as well
as by the men working under them.
A general public, opinion demanding
good road making is the first essential.
Too much time is wasted and too much
money is spent on good roads and bad
foadS; The graft has worked its way
ihtd the inaintenance of th public
highways
Every roadbed must have good drain
age. Dirt roads become impassable,
arid the" tock tir graveled roads soon
lose their identity, Wheri side" ditches
hold water many Weeks during the
year, it is a clear indication Of bad
drainage". Such roads Cut up badly
and are filled with deep i-uts; Often
times the side ditches are higher than
the main roadway, and not only have
no standing water in them, but they
shed all the running water into the
wagon tracks. 'Side ditches that are
serviceable must lower the water table
in the roadbed and carry off all the
surfaee water5 that would otherwise
flood the roadway
The graveled or rocked toad Usually
Is graded before the' hard material is
spread upon it, and for a short time, at
least, the drainage is good Since
Water" is the worst enemy to godd roads
it is likely td make an attack any day
in the year; it would seem that the
annual road-working season would not
altogether fill the bill with any kind of
road, whether it be gravel, rock or
dirt. Roads to be at their best need
attention every time it rains; especi-
aJiy is this true of dirt roads.
The gradetf is excellent for Opening
t p side ditches and for filling the road
i .entre, but in many instances the work
ihe grader can not do is left undone,
Bridges are not properly filled. The
ends of ditches are never opened with
the shovel. Even the roadway is left
hollow, because of ignorance in hand
ling a grader.
The Farmers' Institutes have inter
ested a number of farmers over In
diana in dragging their roads after
every rain and after a thaw in winter.
The result of this experiment has in
deed been very satisfactory. Where it
is impractical to have hard material
for road making, good drainage, With
the dragging process, will give farmers
living on dirt roads fair roads through
the entire year. The drag is so ar
ranged as to drag all loose dirt to the
road centre, and in so doing the wagon
ruts and horse tracks are entirely filled
up. There are no holes for holding
water. Then the dragging of the sui'
face when wet puddles the top, so as
to assist in shedding the rainfall,
which then passes to the side ditches,
The success of the dragging promises
to give the farmers of the dirt road
districts a chance to show their public
spirit in good road making. The farm
ers join together , and drag the roads
near their homes. W. B. Anderson, in
the Indianapolis News.
Good lloatfs and Autos,
Whatever the reputation for ick
lessness and disregard for the rights of
the road which manj- automobile driv
ers or "chauffeurs" have acquired, the
advent of the big car is undoubtedly
exerting a" strong influence favorable
to good roads, an increasing influence
which may be exerted powerfully when
the time becomes ripe for legislative
assistance. An interesting experience
is related to me of roads and country
ways, by Mr. Whitman Osgood, of
Washington, who, with his wife, two
children and a "chauffeur," made a
round trip last fall to St. Louis in his
automobile. They went by the famous
old National road, passing through
Hagerstown, Maryland; BSdfordv
Pennsylvania; Pittsburg, Zanesville,
Columbus, Indianapolis, Terre Haute,
etc. The greatest trouble Mr. Osgood
encountered, however, was, as he
terms it,' "the inevitable white horse,
He says this particular colored anim'a
is by far the most fractious and un
reasonable, and ln several cases caused
accidents, only one of which resulted
seriously.
"The roads in Maryland were very
good," said Mr. Osgood, "even in the
mountains. In Pennsylvania they were
bad and in West Virginia they were
bad. In Ohio the roads got better
especially ardund Columbus, where for
seventy miles they are as level and
smooth as a floor. In Indiana" they
were fair, but In Illinois and Missouri
well, the next time I go over those
roads it will be with a flying machine.
They were simply fearful. We had
no bad weather.
"I never knew before what an excel
lent index to the character of people
are the roads which cut through the
country. Where there were good roads
there were good farms; where the
roads were poor the farms were poo?.
and the farmers looked shiftless and
devoid of energy and ambition. We
found it difficult to get proper food in
I
some or the country districts, tnt
faf mers sending all their products Im
mediately td the Markets. The jour
ney Was the most exhilarating and in
structife1,- find t ani always hereafter"
A strdrJg fldv6cate" 6f good oads.','-
Guy B Mitchell, in Indiana Farmer
Vanity of virtue.
Spartan Qualities That May 1W SaDliifcej
Tot a Bore to Hear About;
A Spartan virtue seeini to have" the1
nherent quality of making its possessor
a forty-four-calibre bore of the worst
sort. Take the man whose supreme if
not only virtue lies in the fact that he
takes a cold water bath eveiy morning
the whole year round. You meet him
iri the car, in the street, in the course
bi business" anywhere, arid rlo matter
what thg topic may be at the start, the
conversation is bound td include an
account quite incidental, of course-
of how on the frostiest of mornings he
frolics in the ice cold water just as it
comes from the hydrant.
Then" therms' the man who walks
down td his office very ihornlflg, rain
or snow,- iri &unshirie' find in stdrm.- The
more distant his home from his office
the more he" will talk about it,- find he!
wili tell you that he has become so ac
customed to it that the only time he
can get an extra thrill out of it is when
the streets are deep with snow arid the
wind is blowing a hurricane.
Heaven may forgive the man who
rises at 5, summer and winter, spring
and fall. We never can. The early
riser is not a criminal, simply because
the iaw does hot designate his offense
as a crime. But it is admitted that the
law has its defects. Nothing can ap
proach the look of Superiority ou the
face of the early riser. He has found
the ohiy read td health bi wealth. The
books he has read before breakfast
would; if collected in a heap, make the
Congressional Library look small.
There are some who' Would place m
the first rank of this group that rugged
hardy, vigorous, full-blooded gentleman
who can't breathe in a room unless all
the windows and doors ar open. The
lower the pressure of steam in the
radiator, the lower the mercury in its
tube and the wilder the play oi the
winds over the roofs and around the
corners, the more insistent is he that
yon are imperilling your very life by
not occupying an office wide open to
every wind that blows.
Oh, -Spartan virtue is a fine thing, but
it would be simply sublime if its mod
ern exponents and inculcators would
just keep still about it. Washington
Post
WORDS OF WISDOM. ,
Health is nature's reward for "con
formity to her laws.
Be praised not for your ancestors,
but for your virtues
No nation can be destroyed while it
possesses a good home life. J. G. Hol
land. A man is rich in proportion to the
things he can afford to let alone.
Thoreau.
Happiness comes not from the power
of possession, but from the power of
appreciation. H, W. Sylvester.
A man rarely thinks seriously on
the subject of religion until te day
the doctor is sent for in a hurry. -
Joy is for all men. It does not de
pend on clreUhistances or conditions;
if it did it could only be for the few.
Horace Bushnell.
Action is the word of God; thought
alone is but His shadow. They who
disjoin thought and action seek to di
vide" duty and deny the eternal unity.
Mazzini.
Liberty means not license, but such
largeness and balance of manhood that
men go right not because they are
told to, but because they love that
which is right. Henry Ward Beecher.
A perfect faith would lift us abso
lutely above fear. It is in the cracks,
crannies and gulfy faults of our be
liefthe gaps that are not faith that
the snow of apprehension settles and
the ice of unkindness forms. George
MacDonald.
"Wondrous Is the strength of cheer
fulness; altogether past -calculation,
its power of endurance. Efforts to be
permanently useful must be uniform
ly joyous a spirit of sunshine, grace
ful from Very gladness, beautiful be
cause bright Carlyle.
Foreslented Philanthropy.
President Angell, of the University of
Michigan, told this story to a class in
international law:
"Some years ago, when I was United
States Minister to Turkey, Greece was
visited by a severe famine. A great
wave of sympathy find pity swept over
the United States, affecting the women
particularly. They raised hundreds of
dollars for the relief of the sufferers.
With true Yankee husbandry they did
not send the money in cash, but spent.
it in buying vast quantities of cloth,
which they made into dresses for the
Grecian women. One entire ship, I
believe, was loaded by this outpouring
of charity. I never was tired of re
ferring in diplomatic circles to the
generosity of my countrywomen, and
for a time was the envy of the repre
sentatives of the other governments.
."Shortly after the ship arrived and its
cargo had been distributed, I had oc
casion to make a trip through Greece.
It was in the days when our ladies
wor extremely large sleeves; but the
style in Greece was not the same. You
may imagine my surprise and humilia
tion when I saw that the Grecian
women had not known what the Amer
ican garments? were and had put them
on their husbands for trousers' Sun
day Magazine. ; ; j -.. v :
According to a Spanish exchange, the
Republic of Colombia, in South Amer
ica, since the times of the conquerors,
has produced ?130,OQO,000 worth of
gold. '"
WRITERS AND THEIR CONVICTIONS
Newspapers Not Subject to Wlsiuis ml
Passing Editorial ISmplOY.
The London Standard, long a stanch
upholder f Cobdenism, was purchased
by C- Arthur Pearson, a loyal follower
f Chamberlain" find the protectionists,
some time' ago, find the noise of the
battle that hatf waged regarding tbi
reversal in policy 5f one of the oldest
English papers has not died down. It
seems , generally admitted that the
Standard, under Its Old management,
was losing ground. It Is pretty gen
erally acknowledged that Mr. Pearson,
one of the ihost brilliant of English
journalists, will.' make it a financial
success. The rub is, What are the
ethics of such a change? " Has a paper
a persoaality -that can be changed?
And how about the staff that once
shouted for free trade- turning right
about and hurrahing for protection?
The Very" first question raised by the
sale was that of the staff. People
asked if the same writers were going
to remain on the Standard under its
new management. The announcement
that contracts for long terms had been
signed by all except the former manag
ing editor, Mr. George Byron Curtis,
has beeri discussed by the moralists
nnrl ntliipists 'irV tntindlv.
Mr. Winston Churchill, M. P., said?
Immediately that he could not reconcile
the notion" that gentlemen of the char
acter of the editorial writers on tht
old Standard would change their ex
pressed views with what he knew of
them. To this it was promptly re
turned that Fleet street has its own
way of settling such ethical questions,
and that "the London leader writer
acts honorably when he does his work
faithfully and leaves his editor respon
sible for the opinions of his own "jour
nal. In this instance the Staff of the
Standard is how in accord with a ma
jority of their party, and is no longer
advocating a minority cause."
It is a question that is usually settled
offhand by the American editor, sub
editor or reporter.- Cases have been
known in late years where writers gave
tip lucrative positions for conviction's
sake, but, as a matter of fact, the or
dinary, everyday honest writer says to
himself, "My work is the paper's; no
one apart from the editors knows
whose work it is, and I reserve my
personal views for articles I sign."
.Those who settle such questions rash
ly and dogmatically, of course insist
that it is dishonest for a writer to im
press upon the public views he believes
to ba erroneous. But the thoughtful
writer takes this perfunctorily, for he
knows better lhari any one else that on
a reputable journal he will have end
less opportunities of expressing views
more important to him than the tariff
or the next Congress. For these he is
willing, usually, to accept his wages,
tr) his honest best to formulate a brief
for his employer's cause, and trust to
the time when he. can voice, with his
journal's weight back of him, some
long-cherished, if quite possibly innocu
ous, conviction. Further, there is al
ways the hard fact that while editors
and sub-editors come and go, the paper
goes on forever; in the nature of things,
it can not be subject to the whim of
every passing editorial employe. Ar
gonaut. - , ' '
Chinese rily a TurJle.
A self-constituted society for the pre
vention of cruelty to animals created
a temporary excitement in what would
otherwise have been a very quiet morn-
inor n loner the water front to-dav. A
native fisherman causrht a splendid
specimen of a s?a turtle at Pearl Har
bor and brought it to town this morn
ing. It,was one of the biggest things
of its klfifl ever seen in ionoiuiu. ane
Hawaiian was immediately surround
ed by a crowd of water front habitues,
Including Chinese, Japanese and Ha
waiian stevedores, deep sea and coast
ing sailors, a eteamsbip company s
president, numerous ' custom house
brokers and what not besides. The na
tive wanted to make his way with his
turtle to some local hotel, but the Chi
nese entered a strong objection to tha
proposed transformation of the animal
into steaks and soup. They then and
there formed a hul and made up
among themselves the $3 demanded by
the fisherman for the turtle, and ac
quired the animal. Sea lawyers freely
offered advice to the members of the
hul, setting forth the pecuniary benefits
which Will be theirs by taking the tur
tle to the Waikiki aquarium or the
Kaimuki zoo, but the' Chinks would
have none of it. Their sympathies for
a suffering animal had been aroused,
and they were firm in their intention
of giving it its liberty. They carried it
to the Irmgard wharf in the presence
of a large crowd, and threw it in the
harbor, where the turtle made a quick
dive for the bottom.
It was a 250-pound animal, and Cap
tain Larsen, of the Sailors' Union, and
Frank Harvey shed tears of regret at
the loss of such a toothsome morsel.
Honolulu Bulletin.
A rertinent Query.
Rev. Henry C. Cook, pastor emeritus
of one of the oldest and most fashion
able churches in Philadelphia, tells of
a Scotchman who left the Presbyterian
Church and became an independent.
The deserter was taken to task by the
Presbyterian minister.
"Sandy," began the minister, "I'm
sorry to find that you have changed
your religious inclinations. A rolling
stone gathers no moss, Sandy."
"Ay, minister, I know," responded
Sandy, "but canna ye tell me what
guid th' moss is to th' stone?" Har-
Uper's Weekly.
v Record of Speed.
The Berlin police authorities are not
satisfied with motor cars being merely
numbered. They have been testing an
indicator which displays iri" easily seen
discs the speed of the car at the mo
ment, and also records on a roll of
paper the speed of each 100 meters.
With iheiFunnyi
A Sordid Bard. ' '
I never loved a sweet gazelle
Or calf or cow with limpid eye
Too dearly to refuse to Bell, .
Especially when beef was high.
Louisville Courier-Journal.
i"-' Of Two Evils.
Cobwigger "How did he
get the
raw-food fad?" -
Codwell "He married a cooking
school girl." Harper's Bazarl '
A Responsibility Met. '
"What art demands," said the critic
earnestly, "are pictures of real life."
"Well," said the actress, t'that is
what I provide. My photographs aro
on sale at every performance." :
v
A Yellow Peril.
"The Japs are "remarkably persist
ent." -j
"Yes, indeed. I shudder to think
what would become of us' if they
should come over here and become
book agents." .-...-. ": :
Sensational Journalism.
"Ma foi!" said the traveler, who was
reading a New York .paper. "An
officeholder has hist head cut off and
still he threatens revenge at ze polls!
If ze Americans vill believe zat, zey
;will believe anything!"
Not Disposed to Cavil.
Acquaintance "That old farmer is
telling everybody that-when he came
out at you with a gun you ran away.'
Railway Surveyor "Well, he's part
ly right. I ran a way right througu
his land." Chicago Tribune.
All by Herself.
"She says she's going to marry some-
bodv that's worth while, if she ever
marries anybody. She has refused half.
a dozen common-place young men in
as many weeks."
"Why. she's a regular lobster can
nery, isn't she?" Chicago Tribune.
Like Samson of Olds
"Yes, my wife calls her little Skye
terrier 'Samson.'
"That's a queer name for such a
puny little thing."
"Well, you see, he'd be nothing with
out his hair." Philadelphia Dedger.
Instance of Animal IntelliRencec
Mrs. Heviwayte "I do believe the
little darling knows I'm getting lnl"
Punch.
Pleasant Forgetfulness.
Mrs. Biggs "And when I caught my
'usband kissing the maid I ses to him,
very 'aughty like, I ses, 'John, you for
get yourself !' "
Mrs. Boggs "Well?"
Mrs. Biggs "'No!' he ses; 'on ,th
contrary, it was you I had forgotten.' "
Chicago Journal.
' - The Tartar's Retort.
"Let me see," began Mr. Henpeck,
"the wooden wedding is the fifth anni
versary, isn't "
"No!" snapped his wife, "When one
marries a blockhead the ceremony it
self "
But the miserable man had fled.
Philadelphia Press.
Open Question,
"Here Is a man who stole $4000-from
the Government years ago and has
just returned $12,000 to the 'conscience
fund.'" " ;
"By Jinks, I am thinking."
"Thinking what?"
"If the Government would be better
off if everybody stole $4000 -and re
turned $12,00Q." Chicago News.
Single and Double. "
"Thls.M said the man who was show
ing the stranger around the lty, as he
pointed to a broad stretch of beach.
"belongs to old .BIgspua. irs au maae
land. That's his house, back there on
the left"
"Is that on made land, too?" flsked
the stranger.
"No: that's on married land. He got
It with his wife." Chicago Tribune.
Love.
"Yes." said the Chicago girl, "I'm
engaged to Mr. Rocks. It was really,
hard to decide because I like Mr. Bul
lion quite as well and they're equally,
wealthy." .
"What decided the thing?" askeaner
friend.
"Well. Mr. Rocks promised me the
most alimony if such a thing should
become necessary." - Philadelphia
Press. .. " "
Hark the "Turn? Please.
Uncle Charles "I don't know as you
will thank me for interfering, . Ellen,
but they tell me this Mr. Cashman you
are "going to marry is utterly worth
less." . i
Ellen ''Why, Uncle Charles!"
Uncle Charles "Not In a pecuniary
sense, you know he's got money
enough but from an intellectual point
of view."
Ellen "Oh, Uncle Charles, you don't
know what a turn you gave me!" Bos
ton Transcript.
ii rSS'5 S