.1
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TH
or NEW YORK.
RICHARD A. MCGURDY, President.
Statement for the Year Ending Dee.31,’97.
According to the Standard of the Insurance Department of the State of New York.
' INCOME.
' $42,693,201 do
11,469,406 24
$54,162,608 23
Received for Premiums
From all other Sources
BISQUESEMEMQB
T0 Policy-holders for Claims by Death
T0 Policyeholders for Endowments, Dividends, etc. ,I
For all other Accounts
12,712,424 76
'10,132,005 5-7
$36,124,060 99
ASSETQC
$132,017.34! 45
69,423,937 3!
12,880,308 .00
21,618,454 88
United States Bonds and other Securities
First Lien Loans on Bond and Mortgage
Loans on Stocks and Bonds
Real Estate .
Cash in. Banks and Trust Companies 11,705,195 3,
Accrued Interest, Net Deferred Premiums, etc. 6,141,200 20
Reserve for Policies and other Liabilities ‘iiigggfii; f?
Surplus m
Insurance and Annuities in Force 3W
_ lhave carefully examined the foregoing Statement and find the same to be correct;
liabilities calculated by the Insurance Department. CHARLES A. PRELLER, Auditor.
From the Surplus a dividend will be apportioned as usual
Report of the Examining Committee. 5
Office of the Mutual Life Insurance Company of New York.
To THE HONORABLE, THE BOARD OF TRUSTEES OF
THE MUTUAL LIFE INSURANCE COMPANY OF NEW YORK.
The undersigned, a Committee appointed by your honorable body, on the twenty-
_ second day of December, l897,to examine the Annual Statement of the Company and
to verify the same, respectfully——-—' ' ‘ a...
REPORT
That, pursuant to the power and authority thereb‘y conferred, the Committee have a '
date of the said reference and the date of this Report, attended at the office of the CompaitiyfaaliiguliaiztSZSEet-‘wéen the
by the Treasurer, the Comptroller,the Auditor, and the Cashier, together with the respective assistants of su galgd on
and have carefully gone over all the items contained in the said Statement, and have found the same to be cor: "0 cers '
have examined and counted every certificate of stock, bond and other obligation held by the COmpany and 6 ct. They
the prices at which the same are carried in said Statement with the market quotations, and find the same: not compared
such quotations—in fact, in many cases below them. They have examined and Counted the bonds and mort a exceeding
property held by the Company, and find the same to be as stated. They have also verified the valuatiofi ogéetshon real
pany’s holdings of real estate and have verified the deposits of money in the various banks and trust e Com.
have counted the cash on hand held by the Cashier. companies, and
And the Committee certify that all the books, papers, documents, and evidence of title Of every descri t'
sary in such examination have been freely submitted to the Committee by the said Officers and their assist p 10n neces-
the same are accurate, in good order, and well kept. ‘ ants, and that
And the Committee further certify that the investments of the Company are of a high order and th t u.»
and methods adOpted by the Company in recording its transactions and caring for the assets are entitled to .a the System
All of which is respectfully submitted. CHAS. R. HENDERSON ELBRIDGE T. GERRY ' A N cgé’mem’m
NEW YORK, January 21, 1898. S. V. R. CRUGER J. HOBART HERRICK JAMES CAggfifirth
Board'vof Trustees-
GEORGE G. HAVEN
ADRIAN ISELIN J R.
GEORGE S. BCWDOIN
WILLIAM C. WHITNEY
WILLIAM ROCKEEELLEB
JAMES N. JARVIE
CHAS D. DICKEY JR
ELBRIDGE T GERRY
JAMES SREYERJ
HENRY H. ROGERS
JNo. W AUCHINCLOSS
THEODORE MOBFOBD
WILLIAM‘ BABCOCR
STUYVESANT FISH
AUGUSTUS D. J UILLIARD
CHARLES E. MILLER
WALTER R GILLETTE
H. WALTER WEBB
FREDERIC CROMWELL
J ULIBN T. DAVIES
A. N. WATERHOUSE
S. V. R. CRUGER
CHARLES R. HENDERSON
RUFUS W. PECKHAM
J. HOBART HERRICK
Wu. P. DIXON
[ ROBERT A. GBANNISS
SAMUEL D. BABCOCK
RICHARD A. MCCURDY
JAMES C. HOLDEN
HERMANN C. VON POST
WILLIAM J. SEWELL
OLIVER HARRIIIAN
ROBERT OLYPHAN'I'
GEORGE F. BAKER
DUDLEY OLOOTT
ROBERT A. GRANISS, Vice-PreSident.
, ‘ WALTER R. GILLETTE General Mane er
{:ILEIEEL%%¥AJS'IZENVICG'PWdent ' DUER du-P. BfiECK, Corresponding Secretary
. , Secretary. FREDERIC CROMWELJEETRT KLAMROTH, Assistant Secretary.
. . , reasurer.
$313115; lggNgAA, ASSistant. Treasurer. . ' JAMES TI'MPSON. '2d Assistant Treasurer.
, . , NDS, Cashier. EDWARD P. HOLDEN, Assistant Cashier
M... " '
. 3 Assistant Actuar . '
CHARLES A, PRELLER, Auditor._ ’ ’ WILLIAM W’. RICHARDS Comptroller
C. CLIEEORDGRETSINGER, As-Jlstant Auditor. HENRY 3. BROWN, Assistatnt Comptroller
J OHN C. ELLIO 1‘, Superintendent of Domestic Agencies.
EDWARD LYMAN SHORT; General Solicitor.
.- ELIAS J MARSH M MEDICAL DIRECTORS:
. . , . D' GRANVILLE Ill. WHIT M. I) -
G. s. WINSTON M. D. Consulting. E' ‘ ’
arduous a announce, General." Ageues.
A. H. SAME. Local Agent. W
l
UTUAL [.le [isomer [20.
THEpE‘VENlN,
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3 13,279,630 66 .
' you howl, but I promise to swab off
I
"
U
i CA /. T TE
SILENCE IS GOLDEN.
\
lfuch obliged for what you haven’t
said,
For words sometimes are like en-
venomed darts;
And, interspersed between the lines,
I’ve read,
Unwritten words—a. balm for wound-
ed hearts.
Much obliged for what you haven’t
said; . .
“I told you so" would rankle now like
sin; ’
[1’ eyes could kill I should be lying
dead. .
If lips should ope' the de’il Would
walk in. .
Much obliged for what you haven't
said;
Unspoken words are words that I ex-
to].
it once let loose to fall like molten
lead. _
They sear and burn deep scars unto
one’s soul.
"A word that’s fitly spoken” (I have
read); '
“Falls like sweet dew upon the
wounded breast;” .
But silence is so rare and after all is
done and said, '
There’s nothing half so good as giv-
ing one a. rest.
MAY HOWELL BEECHER.
AN OBJECT LESSON.
“There being no fair ’uns present,"
began the fakir in the preliminary _
cant-er of his tongue, “it ain’t neces- -
iary for me to say ‘Ladies and gents.’
[ just want your attention for a mo I
ment, gents; just one minute. I have i
here a piece of everyday chalk, and ,I -
want to show you what a chunk of
chalk can do. You can’t forge no
bank check.with it no more than I ,
can. But I can draw some quick picj !
tures with it on the sidewalk if you
watch me with one eye and keep the
other on the cop.” .
By this time 'the crowd surrounded
the fakir five or— six deep and the sa-
loonkeeper in front of Whose shop the ,
gathering anchored, to use a West
street expression, came out to the
gangway of his deserted saloon and .
shouted: .
“Clear out, you! I’ve got no water
to waste cleaning up your mess." ’
And some of the crowd began to
move, but were held back by the re-
mark of the cruising artist:
“That’s all right, sh-ipmate. I’m an _
old tar, and has had many a cargo
of grog alongshore. I’ll knock off if
your deck if you lets me fire ahead."
Without waiting for the permission,
the stranded fakir stooped over and
made a long mark on the, sidewalk
with the chalk, standing in the gutter ,
as he did so. “He’s a nasty shark,” he
remark-ed in confidence to his audi-
ence.- “Now, gents, I’ll draw a picture
of my host, the boss of the tavern.”
And he did, quickly and well. There .
was the bloated owner, with his great
beam and soiled white apron. There
was the open door, leading to the ill- i
smelling bar, and the beer Sign on the ;
wall outside, showing a two-masted,
schooner sailing up the East River“
under the Brooklyn Bridge. with an.
immense glass of foaming lager rest-
ing on the deck between the fore and
main masts. The crowd had swelled '
to such proportions now that all gang-
way on the sidewalk was cut off, and
the proprietor could not see what the
fakir was drawing, not even between
the legs of the big crowd.
“Now,” resumed the wielder of the
chalk, as he and the crowd shifted
their berths to a cleaner stretch of
sidewalk nearby—“now I’ll draw you i
a picture of a school lad.”
There he was, after a half dozen or
perhaps more strokes of the chalk. A
lad fair to look upon! Long, curly
hair, a sweet, open face, neat boots
and a trim rig. A bundle of books un-
der his arm. and the reflection of in-
nocent sunshine in his face. A few
more dashes of the chalk, with a
change of moorings, and it was seen
that the figure of the saloonkeeper on
the sidewalk was offering the lad a
glass of that same foaming lager
which the schooner with all sheets
lifted was rapidly carrying up stream.
“That’s the schoolboy,” announced
the fakir. “Just one more, gents, and
I’m off.” _
Another shift to a clean piece of
sidewalk, a hasty dash of the chalk
and the figure of a healtheshattered,
ragged. unkempt thing'loomed up on
the sidewalk. A bottle or rum showed
up from one of the tattered pockets.
the head was listless and the feet
were partly concealed rl‘i‘miserable
pair of shoes that we , ",an and cut
in a dozen places. Againythe chalk
flashed on the sidewalk and it was
seen that the ssloonkeeper was driv-
ing the. emaciated creature from his
door.
“That’s the schoolboy again.” said
the artist pointing at the miserable
wretch on the sidewalk. “That’s the
schoolboy. but his books and brains is
gone, and so is his manhood. Don't
be afraid to contribute, gents. ill‘his
ain’t no temperance lecture, nnr it
ain’t no treat for me unless you pony
up."
But it was both. The sidewalk is
clean now, and ‘to his dying day the
thick-skinned saioonkecpcr may never
be able to understand why that crowd
looked at him in hard as it moved
away.
“I. wouldn’t mind,” said he to a
crony that night, “but tho-t fellow
promised to clean off the sldewa‘k'
and he didn’t keep his word. Do you
think he was making fun of me when
he drew them pictures?" I
“Blamed if I know," said the bleary-
eyed 'man in front of the bar. “Give
us another drink and don’t bother me
with your troubles. I have some of
my own.“ "
And he had.
I
a ll .Jinzgilagd‘fl-Lj 1;
. and his
MADAME JAlIBE.
You smile at her name, finding it at»
surd, perhaps? Do not, however, be in
too great?, hurry to turn it into ridi- ,
cule, for she who bore it was a brave :
woman, and worthy of all respect.
She married, when about thirty '
years of age, the quartermaster—gener-
al of the regiment.
After a year of married life a son
was born, and Mme. Jambe and her
husband agreed that as soonms he
should attain the proper age, ‘he too, _
should be a soldier. At the age of six- ,
teen he passed into the ranks, and be- '
ing smart and intelligent, he seemed to
have a bright future before him.
But the husband and father died
suddenly in 1869. Sorrow aged her
fast and she left the service and set— .
tied in a little cottage left her by her
parents 'in the village of Clusy, near
Pontarliers. ‘ '
A year later war broke out, and this
was another sorrow for her to bear.
She was a patriot, was Mme. Jambe,
but she was a mother also.
And now. I will let Mme. Jambe
take up the story, for what follows I
had from her own lips. -
“One morning at dawn I heard a
noise at the door of the cottage, and"
then the sound of breaking glass. 1
rose hastily and ran down to the
entrance. I gave a cry, my boy was
there, and behind him stood three of.
his comrades, but in what a state!
Haggard, hollow-checked, their uni-
forms in rags, their boots almost in
pieces, blue and shivering with the
cold! .
“ ‘Mother, you must fhide us,’ he
said. ‘The general has entrusted me
with a message to the commandant of
the fort, but the Prussians have seen
us and are in pursuit. They must not
find us.’
“ ‘Give 'me your order,’ I cried, ‘I
will‘take it while you hide here; no
one will suspect a ~woman—”
“I had no time to finish, we heard a
discharge of Imusketry, and a neighbor
rushed in, crying,- ’
“ ‘The Prussians! The Prussians are
here!’ \
“I pushed my son and. his friends
into a store room, at the farther end of
which, under some hay, was the door
leading into the cellar where I kept
my little stock of wine and elder. '
“The Prussians entered in through
the open door; I saw others in the
road. There must have been about
one hundred of them altogether. A
young officer was in command.
“He came to me and said, brutally,—
“ ‘Is it you who are Mme Jambe?’
“ ‘Yes, I am she,’ I answered him.
“ ‘Your son has just entered this
house.’
“ ‘My son! He is far away from
here, always supposing that he is still
alive.’
“ ‘He is here; I am sure of it. Come,
now, where is he?’
“ ‘You must seek him, then.’
“He made a sign, and the soldiers
ransacked the house.
“At last the brutes found him—him
friends, and I saw them
dragged out covered with the hay in
which they had attempted to conceal
themselves. And my son! How brave
and handsome he looked with his flash-
ing eyes. Yes! He was my own flesh,
and blood, and I felt proud of him.
They were rigorously searched for the
message they were supposed to bear,
but as it was a verbal one they could
find nothing.
“The oliicer stamped about the little
room, mad with rage. Glancing at the
prisonens, he cried,—
“ ‘Is your son amongst them?’
“ ‘He is not; and if he were I Would
not confess it.’ «
“He drew his sword on me, and then
we were all dragged out into the road-
way, the ofllcer shouting,—
" ‘Where is the man who gave us
the information?
“ ‘One of his companions has just
killed him,’ a Prussian sergeant re~
plied, pointing to a corpse which I had
not seen, hidden as it was behind a
bush. .
“The traitor was a franc-tireur, who,
to save his own life, had given up
my son to the enemy. His punishment
had not been long delayed.
“ ‘The murderer .wilLbe shot!’ cried
the officer; then, looking fiercely at a
group of villagers who were cowering
under his men’s bayonets, he contin-
ued,—
“ ‘Some one among you knows the
man J'ambe; point him out to me, or I
will order my men to fire on you.’
“Ah! they were braVe, my neigh-
bors, they made no reply.
“ ‘Then we will soon find on't.’ He
gave an order in a low voice. His
men pinned me with my back against
a wall, and placed rides in the hands
of my son and hispcomrades.
“And the officer said,—
“ ‘On the word of command you
will fire and kill that woman. If you
disobey it will be your turn next.’ ,.
“A cry of horror ran through the
crowd, fol-lowed by a dead silence. I
waited, watching my son.
."Bu-t he did not seem to see me. His
eyes were turned to his comrades.
The seemed ,to be making signs to
one" ther.
“ dyl’ the word of command
thilnder‘ed.
“ ‘Present!’ and they obeyed, cover-
ing me with their rifles.
A
“ ‘Fire!’ They turned suddenly to the
right about. An explosion followed; l
onnd four Prussians, the officer among ,
the number, fell. And shave the roar ;
of the discharge I heard my boy's5
voice clearly.——' ' '
“‘Flre! Yes, butvon, you. you cow.
ardi"
. 1‘, .
“A general volley on» the part of the
I’russlans followed, and I fell with a
bullet. in my shoulder. Before I lost,
consciousnesshowever, I saw that my
aomwas still unhnrt... _
I learned afterward that, just at' this ,
moment, the canon. of the Fort ee
loux began 'to play. The commandant
had caught the reflection of the sun-
light from the Prussian’s helmets. and,
concluding—none too soon—that some-
thing untoward was: taking place, 1131 I
sent a few shells into the crowd and
rapidly dispensed the enemy.” -
Mme. Jambe died a few years after;
the events, which I have related as’:
nearly as I can in her own words, took
place. Her story was recalled to my,
mind the other. day on hearing that
the son of this brave woman had just
been promoted to the command of his
regiment—Pearson’s Weekly.
A PASSAGE AT ARMS.
They were talking it over after-
wards.
“I hope you aren’t inclined to be
lealous,”_she said, glancing up shyly.
“Jealous?” He laughed, as he gave
the white hand that he held a reas-
suring pressure. “Not a bit. You
needn’t trouble your pretty head
lbOllt that.”
“I am so glad,” with a sigh of relief,
while the color deepened in her face.
"If you should, it would be very un-
comfortable because—~”
“Because other men are inclined to
idmire you, too," he finished. “Of
course they do!” heartily. “How can
they help it? Aren’t you the———"
Her rosy palm shut off further
words. He kissed it, of course. There,
was silence for a moment as she drew
back flushed.
“You might,
listed.
“Oh, no.” confidently. ’
“Not'even if some one should like
me very much,” anxiously, “and—and‘
[ should be very nice to him?” ' 1
Her eyes were turned away. There
was a flash in his own as they rested
on the fair figure with its golden
bead gleaming brightly against a:
background of deep red draperies.
His lips twitched for a second.
“Not even then," he declared with
a short laugh.
It grated a trifle.
you know,” she in-
She looked up
’ hastily.
“That isn’t nice of you a bit,” she
pouted. .
“What?” concernedly.
“Why to laugh at me like that. And
—and I should think you’d be jealous
of me sometimes,” emphasis on the
sometimes, and a deeper pout.
“It’s like this, you see,” he smiled,
drawing his chair closer and taking
again the hand that had been with-
drawn. “1 might feel inclined to be
iealous, only I wouldn’t let myself, be-
cause it wouldn’t be fair.”
“Why not?” startled.
“Well—because you see, I shall want
to be nice to the other girls.”
A tiny cloud settled on her face.
“Not that [ should pay any atten-
tion of which you could possibly be
jealous.” he assured her. “But, like
you, I feel that just because we’re en—
gaged, there is no reason why we
should keep ourselves apart, and not
take an interest in other people. Don’t
you think so?” “"
“Yes,” reluctantly, a look of wonder
in her eyes. . '
“Of course other men will pay you
attentions and very likely fall in love
with you,” he continued, cheerfully,
"but I shall'not be vexed a bit, for it
is what I shall expect. And I, in turn,
can continue my little attentions to
the other girls, and nice, pretty ones,
if Ilwish, and you’ll understand per-
fectly. And when you’re surrounded
by your admirers, instead of standing
by and being bored to death, or wish-
lng them all in Hades—beg pardon—
I shall have something to make the
time pass pleasantly. It will be ever
so nice and comfortable, now that we
understand each other.”
“Yes,” she assented, her eyes on the
passers outside. “It is nice to under-
stand -each other.” .
“She is very much like other wo-'
men,” he mused, as he stopped at the
florist’s. . “I thought I had learned a
thing or two from my former expo-
ricnces.” .
“Yes, deliver them at once,” he said
to the florist, and he smiled compla-
cently, as he walked away.
There was a troubled expression in
her eyes as she stood gazing down at
the confusion of flowers before her.
“It was perfectly horrid of him,” she
cried. “And I hoped he would be
jealous.” sofrtly. Then, burying her
flushed face in the soothing coolness
of the petals, “I guess I won’t try it.”
she said. ’ , 11.:
. 115 :
How High is Your Chair?
Some curious experiments have been
made by a Harvard professor to prove
what is really the best height for the
chair you sit on‘ and the desk you
write at. Every person, it appears,
ought to have a chair specially made
to suit his or her height, and the seat
of the chair should be exactly one.
quarter of your height from the floor.
Thus. if you are six feet high the
chair seat should be eighteen inches.
The width of the seat should exactly
equal its height, and it. should slope
backward three-quarters of an inch
to the foot. The back should be a
trifle higher than the seat, and sloped
slightly, not too much.
Finally, your desk should be two-
thirds as high again as the out of
your chair. Thus, if your chair seat
ls twenty-four inches, the desk should.
be forty inches in height. When you
have attended to all these little de- .
tails ybu can sit and write all day
without feeling that backache that
comes from chairs and desks that
don’t fltyou.—-Boston Trawler." _ '
Norwalk Chronicler