wnnkfir— AORWALK A'GAZETTE WHY AND W’HEREFCRE. I know no: whence I haine. i know not whither I go. 11111 the t‘:1<:.sta11ds clear 'l‘l1.1t i :1111 here in this world of pleasure and woe, And Hut. 111' the mist and uiurk .'\.lL”l.ill‘l' 11-min shines pinin— ltis in my power . Each day and hour To add 11'. its joy or pain. I know that the earth exists. It is none of my business why. i cannot. find out. 'v‘r‘hm it is all about-— i would but. waste time to try. liy life is a brief. brief thing. ' i :1111 here [or a little space, And w :ilr- I stay i Would like. if I may. '1'.) brighten and better the place. ’1 1c trouble, I think. with us all is the luck of a. high conceit: it' each man thought - 11.» was sent to the spot [‘11 make it a bit more sweet. 110w soon we could gladden the world. How easily right all wrong, if nobody shirked .-‘. 1111 each one worked [‘0 help his fellows along. Cease wondering why you came: Stop looking for faults and ‘tlnsvs: " Rise up to-day 111 your pride and say: “I am part of the first great cause, However full the World. ’ There is room for an earnest man; It had nt-ed of me Or it nonld not he— 1 11111 here to strengthen the plan.” 'AEllit Wheeler Wilcox in Form. ‘1' VONETTE. Yvonne. LC— was a fair little gizl oi five smnm as, and with her wee, tight- fi‘tting 1.".‘11: e hood and tiny sabots wa as pretty a child as could have been found anywhere in Vendee. Jean Malo, her father, a farmer on the estate of Count de Mordine, had quitted his home some weeks previous- ly with several companions, with his gun slung over his shoulder and a stout club in his hand, to hunt the boar ——ai least, so he said. But it was in 1793; General Santerre‘s grenadiers had invaded Brittany, and Yvonnctte‘s mother had grave reason to fear that he had gone on an infinitely more clan. gcio IS hunt. Rumors of fighting had circulated freely throughout the province, the toscin clanged from church towers and in response thereto the youth of the villages were flocking to the stand- ard of Cathelineau, whom the Bretons had chosen for their commander-i11- chief. On the day on which this story opens Y‘vonnette’s mother was more thought- ful and agitated than usual, so much so that her trouble was n0ticed by the child, who demanded several times,— “Where is papa?” Receiving no answer to this and oth- er questions, she at last drew her little stool up to the window and sought con- solation with her doll Rose. The lat- ter was a beautiful Breton doll that her father had bought at the fair at Auray a year before, and was Yvon- nette’s inseparable companion and the recipient of all her confidences. Suddenly shots were heard outside, followed by several shots fired in quick succession. The child was in no way frightened. The clanglng 0f the bells, the sound of firearms and the shouting of an excited crowd were familiar sounds to her, and were merely associ- ated in her baby mind with the holi- days, when the grand lords and ladies from the neighboring castle deigned to take part in the fetes and dancing upon the 'village green. But Anne Ma- 10, her mother, white and rigid as a taper, and her hands pressed tightly upon her heart, was gazing out of the window with wide, frightened eyes. , “What is the matter, mamma?" queStioned the child. “Hush, darling!" was the'only reply of the farmer’s wife, who suddenly re- covered herself, closed the shutters, lit the lamp and dropped on her kneesbe- side the bed. Yvonnette watched her wonderingly, and her big blue eyes wandered from the kneeling figure to the high gothic fireplace, beside which ‘the cat was purring and blinking contentedly. She was about to follow her inclination and go to play with him, when the door was flung open and a countryman, pale and bedraggled. with a gun' in one hand and a flag in the other, burst in- to the house and slammed the door he- hind him. “Papa! papa!" delightedly. Anne Malo bad sprung to her feet and thrown herself in her husband's arms. “Whatever has happened," she sob- bed. “I have been nearly wild with anxiety every hour since you have been away.” “All is lost!" responded the farmer. moodily. Take this flag and hide it carefully. If ever the Blues should find it here it would be all up with us.” He kissed the standard reveremly and handed it to her. .As he did so a few drops of blood oozed from undo his cap and down his matted hair. “,Jean you are wounded!" Anne. “No, it is nothing," replied the (ho nan picking up his gun. “Where are you going?" manded, resolutely- barring with her body. “To fight with the others." “You will do nothing of the kind.“ “.Wife, let me pass," ordered 111.. “My comrades are waiting for me. is my duty.” “You shall not go,” she‘ repeat. ’l‘lten stooping swiftly. she picked ‘ the child and held her out to him‘. "You hax en't even kissed baby." s , 9.111 laime'.’ ., 1ep1‘oachfully. Muir; wavered. “They “'iillhillk I am a canned." ' stiggering againstf'ne ‘. .. unite of himself, and leaning .'.., for support. screamed ‘Yvonnette. 1" she 1’» the (7.1:- 0"". 27".113 r--' .._ 1, '1 111 the corner. exclaim 1.11? U “.Ican, you are wounded, I knew it. Come into the cellar and let me take care ofyou," shc entrcated. “The cue- my might search for you, and you must live fox 1119—401 Yvonnette.” “No, I must go, " he insisted, biacing hi mseif with an effort; but his st1e11gtb gave out as he said it, and he locled into her arms. She supported him into the obscure cellar and laid him.among the bundles of straw. Thenshe returned to the dwelling-room. Now that he was no longer there she could act. She took the flag, broke the staff over her knee 111111 threw the pieces into the fire. Next she hid the gun under a pile of fuggots Then pouring sumo vin- egar and water in a. bowl, she told the child to be good and not make a noise and went to attend to her wounded husband Y \'011 neitc (ontinued to play with her doll, but her attention was attract- ed 1.0 a strip of the flag which the flames had respected. It was a piece of white silk with fleur de lys emboss- ed in gold upon it. She drew it out of the embers with a cry of delight, and setting her doll .upon her knee was engaged in pinning the silk upon it in the shape of a. dress when the door again opened and a big, fierce, white mustached soldier in a blue tunic, white breeches and high gaiters en- tered. He was a sergeant of grena- diers of the Republic. He glanced around the room and at once noticed that the gun rack was empty. “One of those wolves who have been peppering us from ambush evidently lives here," he muttered. “There‘s a gun missing. A thousand thunders! If we catch any of the rascals they will get a short shrift and no ceremony.” He tore aside the curtains of the bed, peered around and suddenly caught sight of Yvonnette, who, not in the least concerned, went on dressing her, doll. . . The savage expression of his face softened into a tender smile and he went towards her. “What a shame to leave her all alone in the house at such a' time as this," he muttered. He bent, took her in his arms and kissed her. “What's your name, little dear?" he HSREd.v “Yvonnette,” replied the child. “Why, I've got a little Yvonnette, too, just like you, and three little boys as well," he said, and the recollection of his little brood in Paris brought the tears into the soldier’s eyes. At that instant he noticed the silk on the doll, and the hard, fierce expres- sion returned to his face again. “Where did you get that?" be ex- claimed harshly. dropping the child and seizing the stuff. . “There," said Yvonnette, half fright- ened at his change of manner, pointing to the fire. He rushed to the hearth. drew some of the half burnt pieces of the fiagstaff from the flames, with a. piece of scorched silk, and recognized them. “Who do these belong to?" he went on. “To papa." “Where is your papa?” “There, ” said Yvonnette, pointing to the door. “I've got one of them at last,” growl- ed the sergeant, savagely, seizing his gun. “And if I don’t fill him with lead enough to sink ‘him to the bottom of the sea'inside of two minutes my name is not Laderoute." He strode to the cellar door and shook it. It was bolted on the inside, and still furtherenraged he raised his rifle and was about to splinter the frail partition with the butt'end of the wea- pon when he heard a' sound that made him turn his head. . Without realizing the danger her father was in, but instinctively fright- ened by the gestures of the grenadler Yvonnette had burst out crying. The sergeant looked at her and low- eredlbis gun, and a guilty fiush suf« fused his face. “I kissed her a moment ago and now I was going to kill her father," he muttered. ‘ "Lade1out2 you’re a blank- ed, blanked, blankety- -blanked cuss That’ a what you are.‘ He hastily gathered up the incrimi- nating debris of the flag and piled the embers upon them. As he did so, a company of soldiers marched up to the house. Sergeant Laderoute took Yvon- nette on his arm and stood in the door« way to prevent them from entering. “No one here but this little lady," he said. “Right about face—march!" Then he kissed the child. “For my own little Yvonnette's sake," he murmured. “Goodcby sweet- heart," and putting her down, closed the door and hurried after his com- rades. ' Quite aSisnple Matter. .lilkins is the factaotum of an artist. who has made some noise in the world and is quite as important a personage, in his own estimation, as his master. One day a lady called on the artlst. in the absence of the latter and was re- ceived by Jilkins. “Dear me," she cried, glancing first at an incomplete picture and then at Jilkins, “I declare it is very much like you!" “It is me." said Jilkins. with a su- perior air. “I sits'for all his old men. That's what he's specially good at." “You must be a very useful person to your employer." observed the visitor. “So you think that. Mr. Blank, R.‘A.‘, is especially good at old men ?" “Yes. Cos why? He's got nothing to do! I order his frames, wash his brushes. set. his palettes. mix his colors and sit there for him to look at. How can he help being good? He‘s got nothing to do but shove the paint. on!" ' Woman is a subject. never mantle“. ed in Morocco. It wOuld l1111e131114'r1ler-v ed a terrible bleach of etiquan. .1. ask a. man about 111:: Min, “' .- I, r. . A YOUNG DIPLOM ATF. BY \V. PETT RIDGE. The proudest sometimes unbend and the Botanical Gardens ‘werm for one afternoon, thrown off their usual reserve. Ordinary folks had only to come across Regent's Park'from Ches- ter Gate and present a card at the en- trance to the gardens, and the bowler- hatted old gentleman at the gate wel- comed them as though they were most important members. Miss Llewellyn and Master Kenneth Waller, her friend, walked on the grass in the di- rection of the music. “Anybody you know Llewellyn?" “I don’t suppose so, Kenneth.” “You don‘t know many people, do you, Miss Llewellyn?” “Very few!” “Wonder at that,” said the small boy, “because you’re not bad looking, you know. Did you use to come here when you were well off? Do they sell lemonade here?” “Seems possible. You think that eveiybody ought to have plenty of friends?” “Plenty of friends,’ said Kenneth, wisely, “but one in particular. Wonder how old you me?” “That,” said the young w,oman good tempciedly, “that is the only question, Kenneth, that you must never put to a lady.” “I should guess,” he said, critically, as they sat down in the low chairs near the refreshment tent and Watch- ed the people, “that you were about twenty-six.” Miss Llewellyn gave a quaint gesture of horror. “Well, twenty-five, then. Fancy!” The small boy whistled amazedly. “Twenty-five, and not married yet." here, Miss “Young man,” said Miss Llewellyng flushing and affecting a tone of great severity. “I find your conversation much too personal. You would like lemonade, I think, and two pieces 01 cake.” The scarlet-coated band perched on seats near the glass house, with a crowd of smartly dressed folks in front of them, started a cheerful selection from a comic opera. Miss Llewellyn, a composed young woman in an ordin- ary way, as young women are who work for their living, found herself in quite a delightful mood. Music can do much when it tries. “Of course,” said her candid guest, with cake at his mouth, “I don’t mean to say that you mightn’t get married even now. I had an aunt once who was close upon thirty before she could get any one to look at her.” “The instance is encouraging, Ken~ neth. Don’t eat too fast, mind.” “Still,” said the youth,. wisely, “ii I were a girl I should be jolly careful not to miss a good opportunity. Are those orchids they’re carrying there? Hasn’t that chap got a brown face who’s telling the men where to take them? Seem to have seen him some- where before. Shouldn’t like to be an orchid, should you, Miss Llewellyn? Why, you’d have to grow out in South America, and people would have fear- ful trouble to find you, and risk their lives—Hullo! Brownfaced chap’s com- ing this way.’ Miss Llewellyn looked up, and then looked down again quickly, and for a moment her face went rather white. Her hand trembled as she held it out. “Mr. Bradley,” she said. “How do you do? I did not«»expect to see you here.” “I did not expect to see you again anywhere,” he said. There was a. pause that comeg. aftex the banalities of greeting. Master Wal- ler, not having spoken for quite half a minute, felt that he was in some dan- ger of being overlooked, and coughed. “This is my little friend Kennett Waller,” she said. “Kenneth, this is Mr. Bradley.” “What’s the matter with your face?’ asked the small boy. “Have you been abroad?” Mr. Bradley placed a broad fist on the round iron table, and leaned down towaid Master Waller, good-naturedly He seemed as confused at the meeting as Miss Llewellyn, and as unprepared with conversation “I have been abroad, young man I’ve been hunting orchids.” “Are you home for good now?” ask- ed Kenneth. 'Miss Llewellyn gripped the parasoi that rested in her lap with both hands “I can't do any good at home,” said ‘Mr. Bradley. “1 am off again to South America in a day or two.” “Why don’t you stay in London?” “Nobody asks me to stay." “Should have thought," said Master Waller, “that you could have got some- body to do that. Have you got any foreign postage stamps about you?” Friendship between the two gentle- men was cemented and made perman- I eat by the production of several for- eign stamps and an envelope to place them in. People were coming up to the refreshment tent now, the band having decided to rest for 11 1f an "hour, and rec0ver breath, and astei Waller invited Mr. Bradley to take his chair. “You don’ t mind?" asked Bradley 01 Miss Llewellyn. “Not at all,” she said politely. “May I smoke?” “Let me strike the match," inter- posed Master Waller. “I’m awfully good at that. And tell us some of your adventures.” “They wouldn’t interest Miss Llewl lyn." “Girls don’ 1: count," said Master Wal. ler. “Tell me. Make it,” said Master Waller, appealingly, “one where you nearly lost your life.” . So [an or ”fifteen minuteswere thua 9.ch pied, the small' boy seated on Brad/syn knee actuating at him with ' there. I man at Home. open-mouthed astonishment. ' Miss I:le1rclly11,lie1 head bowed, s udied the and p10g1amme in appaiently a l..- bcrious sealch f01 the misprints that a musical proginmme always offers. Bradley told the story very well, with- out ob‘truding his own share in the ad- venture, and when he had finished .punched the small boy humorously to bring him back from South America to Regent‘s Park. “And is that story true?" asked the small boy, respectfully. “It has that drawback, youngster." “Well,” said Master Waller, “I‘m a man that’s awfully fond of adventure, but I shouldn’t care for that. What did you think of when that fierce ani- mal was waiting to spring upon you?” “Guess." “Can’t,” said Master you, Miss Llewellyn?" She shook her head, 'and again be- came interested in the band program— me. Bradley looked at her and wait- Waller. “Can red for her to speak, but she made no sign. Now silence may at times be tolerable for grown—up folks, but for impatient young men like Master Wal— ler it brings nothing but weariness. “Is there any chance of seeing these orchids, Mr. Bradley?” asked the youth. “It’ll be something to brag about to my people if I could just get a sight of them.” “We’ll all go over to the marquee and have a look. Miss Llewellyn, will you come, or shall we leave you here? There’s rather a. crush.” "Let’s leave her ” suggested Master .Waller. ‘E‘M es Llewelijn likes being alone.” “I think I will stay here,” she said. “We shall be back in ten minutes,” said Bradley. Master Waller had to trot to keep 1:11 with the long strides of his new friend, but he did not mind this, because he felt a kind of reflected glory in being accompanied by the man who had brought home some of the rarest of the amazing specimens in the crowded tent. “Girls are a nuisance, aren’t they?" said Master Waller, looking up confi- dentially. “Sometimes,” said Bradley. “She isn’t so tiresome, though, as some.” “I think 'I agree with you there." “Works. awfully hard. Too hard, my mamma says.” “No necessity for that. surely, Bradley, rather sharply. “But Miss Llewellyn has to live,” urged the small boy. “My mamma says that she was well off for a. year or two before her father died, but since that—-” “Her father dead?” “Here I say,” said Master Waller. 3, said “Don’t grip a man’s shoulder like that.” “Sorry!” “They came into money, so my mamma says, a few years ago———" “I remeniber that." “And then Miss Llewellyn’s gover- nor put it all into something, and it never came out again. That's why she has to manage the calisthenic school that I go to. And I say! ' ‘Can you touch your toes with the tip; of your fingers without—” “Where does she live now?" Bradley seemed excited. , “In rooms,” replied Master -Waller, volubly. “I’ve been there to tea along with my sisters. That’s a. fine orchid Mr. hat’s in the way. And Miss. Llewellyn’s got awfully nice furniture and photo- graphs, and—-—" Master Waller slap- ped his knee suddenly. now'where I’ve seen your face before, Mr. Bradley. Onlywithout the short beard.” “Come outside,” said Bradley, “and. tell me.” . They made their way through the crowd and reached the exit. Bradley held his breath, and bent to hear the small boy’s reply. “On her dressing-table,’ Master Waller, cenfidentlally, “in the beau-tifullest frame you ever saw, and -—-where are you going?” “Back to Miss Llewellyn," cried Bradley. “Well, but,” said Master Waller. protestingly, “wait for me.” Bradley'did not obey the young man. He strode across the lawn, past the °band, Which was playing a quick march that was not quick enough to keep pace with him. Before Master Waller found the two there had been a'swif-t exchange of low sentences that altered their views of the world, and made them both think of it as a place where happiness is to be found. “And why did you refuse me be. fore, dear?” “Because all my people pressed me to accept you," said Miss Llewellyn. “The excuse of a. very obstinate._ young woman.’ “Why did you—why did you not ask me again?" she demanded. “Because,” said Bradley, “it was just. then that your father came into that money. “The excuse of a very independent man” said Miss LleWellyn, touching with pretty affection the big band that- rested on the round table. “When— when is it that you leave for South America?” “Not until you tell me to go, dear," he said promptly. “Here I say," cried Master waller, arriving after some difficulty. .“You two! . Don’t lose sight of me, mind. Miss Llewellyn, have I been a good boy?” - “I've a great mind to kiss you, Ken- neth,” she said. “Rather have some more lemonade." “As Kenneth declines your sugges- tion,” said Bradley, sign-ailing to 'a waiter, ”“mayJ venture to submit my- self “HuSh!” said Miss Llewellynr- Wo. -. - You can’t see it now; agirl’s “I remember " whispered . TOO GOOD AN IMITATION. at o: y ofu Stuffed caniaCl. ms and ”1» lat 'lhat lief'el Him. Miss Elizabeth Alle1tcn and her sis tcr Augusta had for years lived al alone in a big house not a thousam mile-s from Boston, says the Bost01 Transcript. It had been their pleasurl on each successive Christmas to game. a. company of children in the great handsome parlors and join with then in having a gay time. But finally the: planned to depart a bit from their us mal custom of planting the Christma- tree in a cambric—covered tub, am here they were, on Christmas Eve, sur rounded by a lot of old garments tha they had found among the trunks 111-1 boxes‘ ‘up garret, ” making a figure t1 represent Santa Claus that shoul1 stand in the jog by the fireplace 11111 clasp the well-filled tree in his strong right arm. Miss Elizabeth was skilled in the 1151 of paints, and upon the surface of a1 apoplcctic-looking bunch covered wit'l light flannel she was busily engaget in tracing sundry dabs and streaks t1 reprpsent' human features. Augusta meantime, was brushing up the copper colored vest thickly bestrewn witl green roses that was to appear fron beneath the dressing gown, covering the deficiencies in the shape of broom sticks and shawls that compose the form. A gray-squirrel muff that ha( not seen the light of day for many : yea_r had been shaped into a hat, ant was the crowning point, in every sense of his home-made Kriss Kringle. “Dear me!” said Miss ‘ Elizabetl when the sticks had been adjusted and 1 the curled hair pulled over the dress ; like a real man. “he looks amazingly I do hope the chil then will not be frightened when the] see him.” _ “I was thinking of that myself,’ said Miss Augusta. “I wish you hat not made his eyes so staring and hi1 cheeks so red. Let’s set him down ant put some flour on his face.” The sisters started for theii room above. Miss Augusta pulled tht ing-gown collar, 1 door so closely after her that she shu' half of her sleeve in. I said, Her sister note: that she locked the door and put thl key in her pocket. They both sat dowx in their room and said nothing for a few minutes, when the scurrying 01 a mouse between the walls made then each give a little nervous scream. Mis: Elizabeth started up. “Augusta,” shq “I can’t sleep a wink ”to-nigh! with that man in the house. I’m just going down and take him to pieces.’ “I was just going to suggest that very thing myself,” said the younger one echoing, as she generally did, her eldei sister. They tip-toed down once more keeping very close to each other, and creeping behind the rosy-checked effigy they reduced him once more to a. hear of old clothes, which they thrust intc the closet, putting the head into a bandbox on the top shelf. Then the) retired to peaceful slumbers. A MOTHER’S GRATITUDE. Her Thanks as Expressive as a Horse Could Make Them. Some time ago, as Mr. Niedlinger was approaching the place at which he was spending ‘the summer with his family, he heard cries of distress. At the corner of a born he found a colt wedged between the siding and a post which supported the ends of the wires of a barbed wire fence, says a writer in Our Dumb Animals. The barbs of the wires of the fence were hurting the' colt cruelly. But the cries which Mr. Niedlingerheard were not from the colt. They came from the colt’smother, a. beautiful brood mare, who stood by with extended neck and wide eyes and quivering body,,express- ing her pain, her solicitude, and crying out for the help which she could not give herself. Mr. N. hurriedly removed the staples which secured the wires to the post, the wires dropped and the coil: went free. The mother, with every demon- stration of joy at. the release of her offspring rushed up to it, licked it, put her chin over it, and fondled it with low sounds. Pleased that he had given the mother so much pleasure as well as that he had saved the colt, Mr. Niedlinger started along the path to the house, but. he had not gone far when he was aware of hoof-falls be- hind him. He looked over his should- er. There ‘was the mother. He reach- ed out his hand. She licked it with low whinnies of thankfulneSs. She fol- lowed him clear to the house, and still stood on the lawn thanking him for what he had done in the interest of one whose mother she was, and whom she loved with all a. mother’s love. A Disobedient Patient. Irate Patron—You advertised to cure consumption, don’t you? . . Dr. Quack—Yes, sir. I never fail when my instructions are followed. Irate Patron—My son took your medicine for a year and died an hour after the last dose. 0 Dr. Quack—My directions were not followed. I told him to take it two years.—-—New York Weekly. A Fellow Feeling. Disappointed Suitor '(savagely)-— What’s that, you little. imp? You say you just overheard your sister tell me she would be a sister to me, and that you are glad of it? Small Brother (meekly)—Yeth, thir -mithery loveth company, thirr Judge. ' ' A (”Jr-editable Average. “Yes, we’ re qu'ite proud of our little town. It’s a. nice moral place an’ aver- ages up better than most of’ em. Why, we’ve got. one church to every sixteen _ Ialoons—i-t's a fact." “Indeed ? How many churches have you?” ‘ ' “Just one.”—Giov_oland*Pla-in Denier. CURRENT COMMENT.‘ .1 1.11111 st 33‘s of the New York “\Iy vocabulary is no match nominy of the situation.” - D121" NPR-titau for the lg Speaker Reed says if the deficit does not end when the Din‘gley law begins to operate under normal conditions the Republicans will enact legislation which which provide additional rev- cnue. Keely has dropped his motor to work on a flying machine propelled by what he calls the neutralization of gravity by “sympathetic outreach.” The‘name suggests a skillful. touch for stock subscriptions. It is discovered that since McKinley has been President 179 negroes have been appointed to ofiice, and there has been a serious protest made against only one of them. The race question cannot be either so prominent or so virulent as agitators would have us believe. Switzerland’s scheme of making in- surance against sickness compulsory on people of limited means is an in- stance of far-reaching paternalism on the part of the Government, but there is thrift in it. The people who are thus obliged to provide for their own of Ticino, the Italian canton of Switzé erland—a province that has furnished this, how-ever, to the effect that he v as public expense. Err-President Harrison, like ex-Pres- ident Cleveland, has withdrawn from politics, and is giving his whole atten- tion to private business and domestic affairs. So long as they shall adhere to their present policy—~from which they give no signs of deviating—both will retain and increase the respect and confidence with which their fellow. countrymen now regard them. It is no new thing for the Baldwin Locomotive Works to receive orders from foreign countries, but it is a little remarkable that calls for their engines should come from such widely separa- ted localities as Finland, Japan, Bra— zil and Canada about the same time. It looks as if American engines were successful against the competition of all the world. But when shall we be able to note a similar demand for American-built ships? The Hartford Times announces by authority that Mark. Twain has paid all his debts by money which he has earned during the last two years. “This success,” it adds, “shows what Mr. Clemens can do when he feels that he must. His actual earnings since he went abroad amount to $82,000, of which about $20,000 has been received for lecturing, and the remainder has been paid to him for his writings. He has now the comfortable prospects of a very large income from his books during the remainder of his life, and the certainty that his family will be well provided for. The new line of steamers from Port- land, Oregon, to Japan 'and China, which is to run under the auspices of the Oregon Railway and Navigation > Company, will not be so imposing in character as its'Canadian Pacific rival, nor will it be backed by so substantial .' a Subsidy, but it is a beginning which may lead to greater things. The open- ing trade of the Pacific is likely "to re- quire several lines of steamers n the near future. Milwaukee's use Of its fireboatsfi‘fcrr. fighting fire at a distance from the river front is attracting attention in other cities with navigable waters. Cleveland, Detroit and Buffalo have adopted the system and Boston is pre- paring to do something with it. In Milwaukee the idea was bOrn of neces- sity, the first suggestion being for a pipe line from the river to. an isolated manufactory in a section where the water mains had not penetrated. The pipe was laid and the first test with a fireboat at the river end showed a com- plete success. Since then lines have been laid to cover a great part of the business district of the city. The fact that the Governments of the United States, Russia and'Jap’an have deemed it best to raise the status of the membeis of the Behring Sea. Con- ference from that of1mere delegates to the high rank of envoys extraordinary indicates that the treaty completed by them is of the first importance, and binds all those of the signatory Powers to enforce it, if possible. From anoth- er point of view it may be regarded as a strong diplomatic hint to Great Bri- tain and Canada that, although they ,may not be signatory to the treaty, they would do well to observe its pro- visions if they wish to avoid trouble. There is some reason in Pierre Lor- illard’s sweeping denunciation of our fluctuating politics, but he discredits himself when he' says that London financers would not invest in America if they were offered 20 per cent. inter- est—— “and it is all due to the unset- tled condition of our politics.” axe many millions of English money invested in this country, and there are ' indications of many. more millions to come, but them is no doubt that if we could adopt one settled political pon- =3y and stick to it there would be less 1isk in Ameiican investments, wherh. er "f01 Americans or 31101131111183“, There , l
Norwalk Chronicler