Evening Star Newspaper, December 19, 1896, Page 23

THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, DECEMBER 19, 1896—28 PAGES. | ThE MUTABLE MANY, BY ROBERT BARR. (Copyright, 1896, w atu —Continued. H 2 moment? 2 the re that I wish to omer nd. I am so glad om iy took in all at onc lothes hi d not @ them, in ari t Bone ‘act that the fl were T { don't think I have Mr, Hope. You have some message for me, “I came of my own motion. I wish v particuierly te speak to you on busines “Oh, but reallly, my good fellow, don’t you know. This is my ‘at home’ day. I r. nght Tf by Robert Barr.) BARNEY GIVES MARSTEN THE BANK NOTE. Almost involuntarily - murmured: “M Sartwell. girl turned her head quickly, and for ent met his ze without recognizing “My name is Marsten,” he said, huskily, eeing she did not know him. “I met you r father’s offices, he and I were talking of the strike.’ yes," she replied. “At first I did 2 you. I-I did not expect She paused and med confused, looking away from him. ‘To find me here,’ said the young man, completing the sentence for her, and gath- ering courage as the delightful fact that he Was actually talking to her impressed its almost unbelievabie reality upon him. did not know there was anything like th! going on. I came to consult with Mr. Hope on the same subject—” He hed as the memory of ene subject arose in his mind, and he felt his newly acquired cour- age beginning to ebb again. He pulled him- self together and ended lamely, ‘“—about the strike, you know.” “Oh,” said Edna, instantly interested. “Is there anything new about the strike “Yes, there was a meeting last night, a it was unanimously resolved to quit work.” The color left the girl's cheek: “And are the men out? Is that why you here today No; they do not go out until Saturday. I did what I could to prevent it, but with- out success. I applied to your father for this afternoon off, and he gave it to me If you want to buy any of my pictures, or anything, don’t you know, you must come another day.” “I did not come about pictures, but about something vastly different and more seri- ly good fellow—you'll excuse my inter- rupting you, won't you? There is no serious business except art, and teday I don’t even vo art.” bv ‘aid Marsten, hotly, “are more serious than art. lease don’t raise your voice. You are iy wrong about things, but I haven't time to correct you today, don’t you know. All one needs to say about your last re- mark is that human lives are ephemeral, while art is everlasting. Therefore is art the more important of the two. But we'll let that pass. Can't you come and talk an- other day? I'm sure I shall be delighted to see you at any time.” “Couldn't you give me five minutes out on the landing?” “It is impossible. guests. You see, w on in a few momen now arraanging his go, don’t you know “Then I will stay until the earl has done his dancing. if that is what he is here for.” “Do, my dear fellow, do. A most excel- lent idea. I am sure you will like it, for, though I have not seen the dance myself, I understand !t is quite unique. Have a cup of tea. I would have sent you a card if I had thought that any of my father’s work- men were interested in the latest move- ments of art, but never mind the lack of invitatior. If you care to stay without it. I shall be delighted. It is really very good to drop in in this unexpected way. the kind of thing I like, so Bohemian, You'll excuse me now, I'm id Barney tripped away to see that all arrangements for the appearance of the earl were complete. The model stand had been pushed to one end of the room fronting the audience; heavy curtains had been drawn across the big north window, leaving the place in semi-darkness; there was the hissing and sputtering of a lime light in the gallery, causing inquisitive people to turn their 1s to see what it was Sar: stood against the wall beside an- other man, who said to him in a weary I cannot leave my have the dancing earl His grace is just irts. I really must this man, Barnard Hope? artist,” answered Marsten. as- tonlshed that one guest should question a 5 er regarding their mutual host. Eviden replied the other. “But who are his people, or has he any “His f er is one of the richest manu- facture 2 London.” was sure of it. I knew there somewhere in the background, is so beastly civi ion was here interrupted by a »ing on the model stand, while at instant a blinding white light was from the gallery upon it. Thefe was a ripple of applause, and the earl, a | beardiess youth of perhaps twen| y, bowed. He looked like a girl in his clinging, fluted skirts. He was a scion of an ancient noble family, founded by an affectionate dancer oft pposite sex in the reign of the sec- ond Charles, and it was quite in the regular order of things that there should be a recrudescence of terpsichorean ability in the latest member of the house. The white light changed to red and the skirt dance began. As it went on it was received with tumultuous applause, for a London audie ¢ is always easy to please, especially when there is no charge for ad- 1 at the doors. Still, it must be z mitted that the sprightly little earl de- served ihe warmth of his reception, for his exhibition was a model of grace and while his manipulation of the volu- skirts left little to be desired. The rs thrown on the fluttering, ¥ gave a weird, unearthly the rapid movements of his grace, if spon the flimsy stik waving hi, head, gave the agile the appearance of one of martyrs wrapped in flames. ale, where a crimson Hight a tains were drawn back, the en- ssemblage rose to its feet, and, about the host, congratulated the success of his afternoon. velved these felicitations with ex- Atif ard ration, the young emerging from behind the scen 1 in his right mind, but a trifle do modesdy his well- pliments, for, let true merit is n in the great for a moment on the throng that pressed around Barney and the little earl, then made her way toward.the door, ng for her stepmother, who lingered thank her host. The men who had along the wall were already in the and the other arted n stood alone where he was wh sitors had nearly entertainment was going on, xazing h beating heart at the girl he loved She came slowly toward him, her head i, watehing her stepmother standing fast thinning group about Barney. "There was a certain uncon! s ubout her movements, as if the young man had hypnotized her and was drawing her to him by mere force of will. At last her skirts touched him and his nerves tingled without asking any questions. It seemed to me that In the few intervening days be- fore the men go out something might be done, when the enthusiasm of the mee ing died down. That’s why I came, but "m fraid there is not much to look for here. “Does father know?” “About the strike? On, yi The girl's winsome face clouded with ap- prehension. “I am so sorry,” she said at last. “I am sure it is not father's fault, for he is kind to every one. Even if he 1s somctimes severe,”” she cast a shy upward glance at the young man that made his heart beat faster, “he is always just.” “Yes, I know that is true. He will beat the men, and that is the reason I want moderate counsels to prevail. The work- ingman is always the under dog. Most of his mouthing friends are fools, and he himself is the greatest fool of all.’ “Don't you think you are a little hard on the workingman? W you here in time to see the dancing earl? She looked at him with a frank smile, and Marsten smiled in company with her —it brightened his face wonderfully, and establisned an evanescent bond of com- tadeship between them. “I had forgotten the earl,” he said. “I must go now. I see my ste; mn a1 looking for me. I hope dinbeteameere ful in averting trouble She extended her hi took it tenderly, fearing he might D too closely and’betray himself’ | @" ="? ** Mrs. Sartwell and her stepdaughter were the last to go. Barney threw himself on a lighted a cigarette. “Well, my young friend, alene at last. Help yourself to the cigar- €ttes and allow me to offer you something stronger than the tea with which wo me gale the ladies. We have several shots in the locker, so just name your particule favorite in the Way of si julant, while I order a B and S for myself. You might not believe it, but one of these afternoons tales it out of fellow more tnan at the factory. Not that I ev factory work myself, it mee your Ire.” “Yes,” said Marsten, af cfferings of his host. Bee tcry I wish to speak resolved last night to “Foolish beggars.” “I quite agree vith you. wcrse than fcolish. divan and here we are er indulged in but I think you said clining the “It is about the fac- with you. The men 80 oui on strike.” h you. Tet action is — Is why I ca bre oe ee would intervene in aoe he at a better state of f, i that a better state feeling might be “Well, now—let’s see, I belie: 0 see, ve I have forgotten your name, or did you tell waco Ab, Marsten—thanks—so many things a my mind, don’t you know? ¥, a 2? You see, Maraten, it's really no business of ‘mmx, although I must admit that f the position of arbitrator flattees mor riot makes twice I have been asked ‘withig® diplomat, don’t you know. there's nothing i enjoy co ing my own business, and t affair of mine.” “I think it is. AN the luxu . E here is surely earned by the men fave now speaking for."" am “My dear fellow, you are not + you are not, flattering now pictures do not sell.” “I had no intention of of the kind. I have no aunt y anything you paint.” “Ah, you are cormendin, discernment of the British at present—is an hono: & anything you can sell i the -artistic Public, which— r the B. P.'does not deserve. It wili come round ulti: y- the great B. P. always docs—but not eet, my boy, not yet. Give it ti f ime and it Will pour cash in your lap. I regret that the mement—how shall I put it?—wi date, has not arrived. The workemey UB gt? you honor by associating with ‘at present supply—as with perhaps with unnecessary bluntness you state it—the financial dete. ciency. But the public will pay for it ai in the end—every penny of It, my boy. You see these pictures around ‘the walle? Very weil; I hold them at £2,000 each 4 find Uttle difficulty in so holding them for no section of the great British public has, up to the present time, evinced any dogged desire to wrench them from me in exchange for so much gold. What is the consequence? 1 shall increase the price £500 every year, and the longer they ‘hold off, the bigger sum they will have to pay and serve them jolly well right, say i. Ten pictures £20,000—this year. Next year £25,000, and 90 on. With property on’ my hands increasing at that rate I should be an idiot to urge people to buy. Ground rents in Belgravia are not in it with my pictures as investments. So you see, Mir- sten, when my day comes, the factory will be a mere triviality as an income producer compared with my brush, don't you know.” “But in the meantime?” “In the meantime, 1 am_ getting along very nicely, thank ‘you. The strike wii not affect me in the least. The men mas have to diminish the amount of shag or whatever awful mixture they smoke, but 1 shall not consume one cigarette the less, 1 have done nothing to bring on this strug” gie. If the men want to fight, then, by Jingo! let them, say I.” & “The fight is not yet actually on, and won't be until Saturday. Now is the time for a cool-headed man to interfere and bring. about an amicable understanding. Won't you at least make the attempt, Mr. Hope?” “My dear Marsten, the way of the self- appointed arbitrator is hard. I was read- ing in this morning’s paper about your charming meeting last night, and I no- ticed that one man who interfered was kicked off the platform and thrown out into a side street. That is the working- man's idea of how an intelligent discussion should be terminated. I love the working- man myself, but I sometimes wish he would not argue with his hob-nailed -boot. By the way, did you see this interesting episode? You were there, I suppose?” Yes. Braunt, who was kicked out, is one of the best workmen in the factory, but very hot-tempered. He lost control of himself last night under strong provoca- tion, and when he was outside tried to batter in the door. The police interfered, and he knocked down three of them. This was disastrous, for he was fined {5 this morning, and I have been trying to raise the money so that he need not go to prison, but we are in the minority—he exasperated cur fellow workmen—and I am not getting on well with the subscription list.” Barney sprang to his feet. Knocked down three, did he? Good man. ‘That's something like. It's a most deplor- able trait in my character that I somehow enjoy an assault on the puiice, and yet I recogniz2 the general usefulness of the fores, Five pounds, did you say? Then there will be the costs. I don’t understand much about these things, but I believe there are usually costs, on the principle of adding. izsult to injury, I suppose. Will a ten-pound note see him through? Good. Here it 1s. Three-pound-odd a policeman is not expensive when you think how much some luxuries here below cost, don’t you know. No thanks, Marsten, I beg of you. It's a pleasure, I assure you. As Sarsten tcok the moncy a Servant came in and said in a low voice: “Simo- son wants to know if he may go, sir. “Bless me, yes. I thought he had gon long ago. Simpson is my ornamental six- footer at the head of the stair. | Perhaps noticea him as you came in. r fellow, he's not allowed to do anything but stand there and look pretty. so 1 sup- pose it gets wearisome. Imagine such boy-stood-on-the-burning-deck devotion at this end of the nineteenth century! I had forgotten him, absorbed in your interest- ing conversation. Well, Marsten, I'm sorry I can’t arbitrate, but drop in again and let me know how things go on. Good afternoon.” Chapter X. On Saturday the men took their well- earned pay, one by one, and went out of the gates quietly, if sullenly. During the days that had intervened between the meeting and the strike, neither side had made ad- vances to the other. If Sartwell had pre- pared for the struggle, these preparations had been accomplished so secretly that Gibbons failed to learn of them. The sec- retary of the unton issued a manifesto to the press setting forth the position of the ren in temperate phrase that had the ef- fect of bringing public sympathy largely to the side of the workers. It was an ad- mirable documents, and most of the papers published it, some of them editorially re- gretting the fact that in this enlighte! country and this industrial age some hun- dreds of men, the bone and sinew of the land, willing to work, were forced to go into the streets in protest against a tyran- ny that refused even to discuss their alieged wrongs. The newspapers pointed out that whether their grievances were just or not was beside the question, as the point was that the manager had refused to see a dep- utation, and this high-handed conduct the papers expressed themselves as forced to deplore. Both members of the firm thought this manifesto should be answered. The mana- ger did not agree with them, so it was not answered. Pickets were placed before the gates, and a few extra policemen appeared, as if by accident, in the neighborhood; but there was nothing for either policemen or pickets to do. On Monday some of the men loung- ing around the place looked up at the tall chimneys, and saw them, for the first time during their remembrance, smokeless. They had never noticed the smoke before, but now its absence created an unexpected void in the murky outlook. It was as if the fin- ger of death had touched those gaunt, lofty stacks, and the unusual silence of the place the men had always known to be so busy seemed to give the situation a lonely feeling of solemnity they had not looked for. On Tuesday some dray loads of new ma- chinery arived at the works, and these the pickets attempted to stop, but without suc- cess. Gibbons was consulted, but he took a sensible and liberal view of the matter. “Let them put in all the new machinery they wish. That will mean employment for more men when we go back. We will not irterfere with Sartwell until he tries to fill the works with other employes.” For the remainder of the week the shops echoed with the clang of iron on iron, but no smoke came out of the tall chimneys. this a fight,” said one of the men over his mug of beer. “I call it a bean feast.” - On Saturday strike pay was given out at headquarters, each man getting his usual wage, for the union was rich. It was iv- deed a bean feast—all pay and no work. The first week had enabled Sartwell to take repairs and to add machinery that bad long been needed, but it had another effect which he considered more important still. It allowed Mr. Monkton and Mr. Hope to recover their second wind, as it were. These good but timorous men had been panic stricken by the going out of their Phaid Little Mr. Hope Passes the Crowd. Through employes, and by the adverse comments of the press. As nothing happened during the week, they gradually regained what they called their courage, and although they perhaps did not realize it, they were more and more committed to the fight when it did come on. They could hardly with decency, after keeping silence for a week during which there was peace, give way if afterward there should be violence. ‘The Vigilance of the pickets perhaps re- laxed a little as time went on, and there was nothing tu do. But one morning they had a rude awakening. When they arrived at the gates they saw smoke once more pouring from the chimneys; there was a hum of machinery; the works were in full blast, and the former workers were outside the gates. ; ‘The news spread quickly, and the men gathered around the gates from all quar- ters. Gibbons was early on the ground, like an energetic general, ready to lead his men to the fray. He saw that the fight was now on, and he counseled moderation when he spoke to the excited men. It was all right, he answered them. He had expected this, and was prepared for it. ‘The gates were closed, and when Gib- bons asked admissien to speak with the manager, his request was curtly refused. This refusal did not tend to allay the ex- citement, nor to-improve the temper of the men. The police kept the throng on the move as much as possible, but the task be- came more and more difficult as the crowd increased. = At poon a wagon, evidently loaded with provisions, drove down the street, and when the mob learned that its destination was the works, a cry went up that the vehicie should be upset. Again the pacifying influence of Gibbons made itself felt, and the wagon, amid the jeers of the bystanders, drove in, while the gates were speedily closed after it, Gibbons retired with his captains to head- quarters, where a consultation was held, ‘There was a chance that Sartwell, during the first week, when it was gupposed he was putting in new machiner¥, had also been building dormitories for his new men, and that he was going to keep them in- ee the gates, free from the influence of the union. = This plan had not been foreseen by Gib- bons, and he was unfrepared for it, “The mep must out sooner or later, and when they do w@ Will have a talk with them,” said the secretary. ““My own opinion is that they will come out tonight at the usual hour, and I propose to act on that supposition. If I find:1 am wrong, we will mcet again tonight, gnd I will have some Proposals to make. gam 2 short time we shall be able to leal whether the scabs are coming out or “hot. Meanwhile, get back among our ownfjmen, and advise them not’ to make any fostile demonstration when the ‘blacklegs’ appear; and when the scabs come out, let each man of you per- suade as many as you can to come to the big hall, where we can have a talk with them. Tell the men::that if there is any violence they will bé,mereiy playing into Sartwell’s hands. We.don’t want the po- lice down on us, and, until there is a row, they will at least remain neutral. This advice comména@ed itseif to all who heard It, and, the details of the program having been arranged, they all departed for the scene of conflict. Promptly at 6 o'clock the gates were thrown open, and shortly after the ‘black- legs" began to pour forth into the street There were no hootings nor jcerings, but the strikers regaraed the newcomers with scowling looks, while the latter seemed rather uncomfortable, many of them evi- Mently apprehensive regarding their recep- tion. “Men,”’ cried Gibbons, “who is your lead- er? I want a word with him.” ‘The stream of humanity paused for a mo- ment, in spite of the commands of the po- lice to move along. The men looked at one another and Gibbons quickly recognized the state of things—they were strangers to each other, coming ag they did from ali parts of England. Tnis surmise was confirmed by one man, who spoke up: “We've got no leader,” he said. “Then you be the spokesman,” cried Gib- bons. “Did you men know, when you came here, that there was a strike on?* “Something of that sort,” replied the spokesman, sullenly. “Do you belong to a union?” “The union never did nowt for us.” “Do you know that you are taking bread fre the mouths of other workers?” eee pus pus bread into our own mouths.” At this point the police captain touched Gibbons on the shoulder. 28 “I can’t aliow this obstruction, “Give me two minutes,” pleaded Gibbons. “‘No—nor one.” Gibbons turned savagely upon him. “Look here,” he said. “Have some tact and sense. Don’t you know that I have aes to raise es hand and this crowd will sweep you and your me: of the earth?” Bete Ree “That won't prevent. me from sweeping you into prison.” “Certainly not. But you can arrest me quietly, when you like, or I'll meet you at the police station any hour you name, but if you attempt to interfere now, you'll have a riot on your hands. I'm holding this crowd in check—it is not their fear of you. There's no traffic coming through this streei nor likely to come. We're therefore ob- structing nothing, and I'm as anxious as you are to keep the men within the law. Good heavens! You may have your hands full at any moment, so don’t push patien. People over tne line. Remember, you are Boe in ee emplen. I only want a words with these men, ve’ ieletresetinsne en, then we'll leave The captain hesitated a moment. an ominous mob. “Look sharp, then,” back. “Come with us,” cried Gibbons. “wi i talk here. Come to the big hall, and if you don’t like what we Say there will be no harm done. (This is @ free country.” € Secretary turned, as if doubt that the crowd would (clon ian the leaderless men walxed after him. Gib- bons’ assistants mixed among them cha talked persuasively with the strangers. Be- fore half an hour all the “blacklegs” were in the Salvation Army Hall, signing the jlen roll and being put on the strike pay It was a notable triumph for Git 5 first blood, as a sporting man would se Next morning when the gates were opened not a man entered, and Sartwell once more found himself without an em- Dloye. After the gates had remained in- open for half an hour they were again, and a great cheer went up two big iron-bolted leaves came to- he said. It was " he said, and stepped as the gether, a Sartwell’s resources, however, were yet exhausted, for two days later the fac: tory was thronged with workmen once more, and these alse Gibbons bought from under the manager. , " us the game went on, and it the men that their secretary knew a mee or two, being more than a match for the manager. Gibbons carried himself confi- dently, and talked with grand assurance that he was perhaps far from feeling, for he became more and more haggard and anxious as the fight continued. He alone knew the seriousness of the increased drain on the resources of the union, through the forced support of the new hands he had lured away from Sattwell's emplo: which had upset all his previous caic tions. An attempt was made to lighten the burden by trying to induce the new men to return to their homes, and this had been partially successful with the first lot, but the others obstinately insisted on getting their share of the strike pay and refused even to consider the advisability of return- ing. They demanded what was promised them, or threatened to enter the wor<s in a body, which action would have spee-lily put an end to the contest. Gibbons was well supported by that section of the ;-ress which gave more than a few lines each day to the progress of the strike. One morn- ing the chief of these papers came out with an appeal to the public for aid. The case of the strikers, battling, it might be, at first for theig own rights, but fighting in reality for all working humanity, was most convincingly and tersely put in’ a double- leaded editorial, and the journal itself headed the list with a handsome contribu- tion. Would the people of Bngland hold aloof, reduce these workers into slaves, using the weapon of grim starvation against them? The journal did not believe such apathy existed, and its belief was amply justified, for subscriptions poure] in rapidly, together with indignant letters from all parts of the country, which were duly printed in its columns. : The first pinch Of the strike came on the men when it was suddenly announced that strike pay would the next Saturday be cut down to one-quarter the amount they were then receiving. There was a good deal of grumbling and some inquiries as to what thyy were fighting for, but on the whole the aifastrous “proclamation was received quietly, if somewhat grimly. “We are bound to win,” said Gibbons, when he was reluctantly compelled to tell the men of the reduction. ‘The firm is los- ing nearly a thousand pounds a week by the factory remaining idle, and it is not likely they will stand that long, even to oblige Sartwell.” Gibbons had not the courage to add that, even with the reduction, the union could not hold out more than a week longer; that it was practically at the end of its re- sources, and that future strike pay would have to depend on the subscriptions re- ceived from the outside, a most precarious source of revenue, for every one knows how short lived enthusiasm is and how the collection of hard cash destroys it. ‘There is much good generalahip, and one of its axioms ts that you should endeavor to discover your enémy’s weakest point. Never once did it dawn on Gibbons or any ef his lieutenants thatthe fortress they were attacking had anly to be approached in one direction, when’ the walls would have crumbled like those of Jericho; never did it occur to hime that Startwell was fighting at the samestime two battles—one with the men and dne ‘with the masters, and of the two contests he feared the re- sult of the latter most. ‘Sartwell was be- tween two fires; he hadsurged both Monk- ton & Hope to quit Bngland until the fight was over, and leave the conducting of it to him. They vacillatedy. inithe evening Sari- well might have their promise, but in the morning they had chasge@ what they were pleased to call theinminds. They always feared the worst. They saw the factory in flames, and the mobpshot, down by troops. They implored Sartwell. to come to some agreement with the men, He had said the strike would be over in three weeks, and here it was still dragging on, the men as determined as ever. If he were wrong about the duration of the fight, might he not be wrong also in his treatment of the men? Was no compromise possible? ‘This sort of thing Sartwell had to contend with, and it wearied him more than the strike itself. He opened the papers in dai fear that he would find there some letter from the firm, in answer to the strictures of the day before, which would show the public at once how the land lay. Gibbons believed that the backbone of a fight was money, as in many’ cases it is: but_a@ moment's reflection might have stown him that, if the fight was to be con- dueted on a cash: basis, the strikers had not a ghost of a chance. becausé the firm of Monkton & Hope was much richer than the union. He éd in fighting the devil with fire: Adages are supposed to repre- sent the condensed wisdom of the ages, whereas they too often represent condensed foolishness, If one has to meet an expert swordsman on the field of honor, he should select a pistol if he bas the ‘choice of weapons. Fight the devil if you like, but never with fire. When Marsten had said to Gibbons, “Mr. Sartwell Knows te a penny how much you have in the bank,” the retary aac answered grandly that Sartweil might see the books of the unjon for all he cared, and much good it might do him. The fact that a man like Sart-vell thoughi it worth his while to find out what the enemy was doing did not suggest to Gib- bens that it might not be a bad plan to have a look over Sartwell’s shoulders and discover just hcw things were going in the piivacy of the manager's office. Whe: Marsten ferreted out various things as the fight progressed, and brought his know edge to Gibbons, the latter waved ft aside as of no consequence, treating Mars.on throughout as an enemy in the camp. Timid little Mr. Hope passed through the gates each day to his office, scarcely ever glancing at the crowd that hooted him and made remarks not pleasant to hear. He dreaded the moment of arriving and leav- irg, but thought it a courageous thing to do, imagining he would be neglecting his | duties as a freeborn Briten if he his post at this time of danger. If Gibbons had been a shrewd man he would have called upon Mr. Hope ai Surbi- ton, and ten minutes’ conversation there would have shown him the true state of af- fairs, for the timid little manufacturer was as transparert as crystal. If the secretary had lured one of the partners to the strii ers’ place of meeting, which might hav been accomplished as easily as with th “blacklegs" from the country, he would in all probability have had a public statement which would have made Sartwel! r tion inevitable. Thus might G led his army to victory, and at th time have placed his enemy where his army then was—outside the gazes. And this was merely one of the method by which a clever general would have tr’ umphed. If Gibbons had taken the trouble to in- form himself about the effect the few editor- jals had produced in the minds of the par ners he would have endeavored to ma! arrangements for the publication of a series of articles on the well-known philanthropy of the firm, with some moral reflections about charity beginning at home. This un- dcubtedly would have caused the ground to crumble away beneath the feet of Sartwell, for Monkton & Hope were proud of the 00d their benefactions were supposed to do; and until this trouble had arisen they had thought themselves just employers,who treated their men with fairness, as indeed they were, and as indeed they did. But now they were in doubt about the matter, and had an uneasy feeling that they had been, perhaps, remiss in their duties toward their employes. Sartwell dominated them when he was in their pres- ence, and they knew his value too well to run the risk of losing him. They knew, also, if they gave way to the men without his sanction they would lose him, and they had rivals in London who would be onty too glad to take him in their employ in spite of this knowledge they wav and it required but a little tact and d plomacy on the part of Gibbons to win a victory all along the line. (To be continued next Saturday.) deserted oe PAPER MONEY AND THE SOUTH. “Why the Confederacy Failed,” by the Son of a Southern Officer. Duncan Rose in the November Century. Three principal causes contributed to the fall of the confederacy: (1) the exces- sive issue of paper money, (2) the policy of dispersion, and (8) the neglect of the cav- alry. The confederate government was smoth- ered and strangled to death with its own irredeemable paper money. It has beer proved beyond shadow of doubt and cavil that war cannot be waged with paper money. Our forefathers proved it in the war of the revolution, and had not the French and Dutch come to their rescue with real money, the American govern- ment, with its continental bills, would have been strangled like the confederacy, and would likewise have ‘died-a-borning.” However well or ill paper bills may at.swer for money in time of pea in time of war they will not do. The mean specic, and nothing but specie. And to get specie, and those things which specie will buy, there must be taxes, taxes and taxes. A people who are unwilling to be taxed have no business to engage in war. The southern people knew that war meant taxes, and they were willing to be taxed to carry on their war. The sacrifices they made, the eagerness with which they loaned their money to the government, bought its bonds and took its paper money showed that they were willing to be taxed. But the southern people were not fighting for independence only; they were contend- ing as well for a certain theory of govern- ment. In order to be consistent with this theory, it was necessary for their leaders, in framing a constitution, to render it un- lawful for the government to tax the lands and goods of the people except under con- ditions which made all taxation of prop- erty by the general government impossible. According to this theory, a government might lawfully order a man to shoulder his gun and march to the front to be shot at with cannon and rifle, but could not levy a tax upon his property to feed and clothe him while fighting for his country. The ports of the confederacy were all block. aded, so there was really nothing that the government could do to raise money except issue bonds and paper bilis. Of these, be- fore the war ended, between one and two thousand million dollars—nominal value— had ‘een emitted, the paper bills amount- ing to nearly one billion, or over one-half of the whole. Nor does this include the millions of paper bills issued by state au- thority and by banks, of which it would be hard to give even an approximate esti- mate. During the same time, to the end of 1864, there was raised by taxation the pitiful sum of forty-eight millions of dol- lars, and that all paper money. It, too, might just as well have been printed, for the cost of collection would then have been saved. What more need be said to show why the confederacy failed? Ah, those beautiful paper bills, so nice and clean and pretty, but every one as deadly a foe to the south as an armed en- emy! And how the people ran to get them! -And how those printing presses rumbled, all printing paper money! They shook the earth, and almost drowned the noise of the cannon wheels rolling to the front. A southerner should hate the sight of one of those paper bills. Every one of them Tep- resents blood fruitlessly spilled, treasure wasted and hopes blasted. But in the beginning of the struggle no one seemed to suspect an enemy in that beautiful money. The government, at least, acted upon‘the theory that all it had to do to raise money was to print it. They did not seem to realize that, being the largest purchaser in the market, it was necessary: for the government ‘to keep down prices as much as possible; that every issue of bills must inevitably raise prices and render a new issue necessary; that every rise in prices must be followed by a new issue, until the bubble must col- lapse of its own expansion and redun- dancy. At last the lesson was learned that a printing press cannot take the place of a tax collector in providing the sinews of war, but it was then too late; the giant was already prostrate and helpless. When it had come to pass that the armies were starving and freezing in camps and trenches, the government having not the means to buy them food and clothing or pay for their transportation, when it had come to pass that the war department Was compelled to pay a thousand of its paper dollars for a pair of army boots, when it had come to pass that a month's pay of a soldier would not buy him a single ration of bread and meat, the lesson was then learned; but it was too late. In the last gasp of the struggle the government attempt2d to abandon and throw off its make-believe money; but it was already buried, smothering and strangling under an avalanche, a mountain of paper dollars. ——+o+—___ First Skating Accident of the Season. From Ha-per's Weekly. The Skater—“Pardon me, sir, last taney igure I did has tangled me up so that I shall have to get your assistance to undo myself.” FASHION IN JEWELS Nearly Every Article That Woman Wears Will Be Studded. jones Are the Fad—Penaris, Real or False, and How They Should Re Wora. From the New York Hera, This is a bejeweled age! Never before have American women so pr odigally adorn- ed themselves and all their belongings with precious and semi-precious stones. Scarcely an article of dress or dainty accessory of the toflet has escaped. Purses, card cases, lorsggnons, lorgnettes, girdles, belts, vinaigrettes large and small fans, combs, portfolios, powder boxes, hair j brushes, hairpin boxes, ring boxes all, in short, of the innume that put the polishing touch to a woman's toilet and that furnish that intricate thing, her dressing table, are bejeweled to the last degree. The things with which the dressing table is strewn are ornamented with semi-precious stones. The coat of arms or initials of the fair owner outlined in small d fects—is greatly governed b: of one’s room, as a symphor the keynote to success in eve Enameling is also much in vogue, and toilet sets are made with the same design and coloring repeating itself on each ar- ticle. Burmese gold is invarlably used now for the mounting of everything, silver be- ing distinctly out of it, even in’a faskion- able sense. Every woman has her string or strings of pearls. Often they assume such proportions that rope is a more de- scriptive word—so necessary an adjunct have they become to a woman en grande toilette that the great Worth himself, just before his death, advised those of his clients that could not through the paucity of their purses afford to adorn their white throats with real pearls to wear clever imi- tations. His successors have gone further, and if madam's toilet is incomplete, and a string fesses she is without pearls and likely to remain so, It is graciously suggested that madame’s toilet is incomplete, and a string or more of exceptionally clever imitation pearls fastened, if madam wishes, with a small diamond clasp, will be sent with the gown. If madam is possessed of any wealth at all she can easily convince her friends at home that they are a “lucky find,” picked up as a great bargain on the continent. But oftener madam chooses nowadays to be deliciously frank about the matter, and will declare laughingly it is not for their value, but their becomingness, that she cherishes them. Collars of pearls, eight to twelve strings wide, held in place by diamond slides, are another necessary detail in woman's toilet today—necessary literally, for one must wear something about one’s throat in evening dress to bal- ance the fluffiness of the coiffure we have adopted, along with the rest of the other fashions, whose origin is easily traceable to the time when Marie Antionette was queen. To be sure, the ladies of lesser fortunes, to whom pearls were an impossibility, were content to rely upon a simple band of black velvet, with or without a jeweled clasp, to lend symmetry to their ensemble, but such simplicity is, perhaps, a wee bit too much to ask of the woman of today. Extravagant Collars, The most extravagant collars are formed of @ solid mass of diamonds, combined with pearls, rubies, emeralds or turquoises. En- circling the throat in a scintillating band of many lights. This casts a glamor over the face that makes a plain woman pretty, and a pretty woman irresistibly lovely. With the collar formed of the string of pearls it is quite a fad to wear a thin gold chain, slender almost to invisibility, ten inches or so long, and pendant from it two large, pure stones of contrasting colors, set one above the other in tiny bands of gold. A diamond and an emerald is the f.vorite combination. The Merie Antoirette coiffure—or, rather, what we call the Marie Antoinette coif- fure—makes side and top combs an abso- lute necessity, for without their ald the loose, fluffy look every woman strives for is absolutely unattainable. Jeweled side and top combs have been worn some time, but it remained for this season to develop the three in one. Very like an old fashion- ed child’s round comb is this latest thing in combs. With the exception of it being a trifle longer on the sides and being fur- nished with graduating teeth, that reach @ greater depth across the top, it is iden- tically the same thing. When it is set with small brilliants all around it fs altogether fetching. One must take some care, though, that it accurately fits the head. The most stunning thing for the hair takes the form of two large branches of flowers, to be worn on either side of the head in the fashion affected by Bernhardt in “Gismonda.” These fiowers are formed of myriads of brilliants of all sizes, so lightly set as to have little weight and to rest comfortably in place. Women who own tlaras are bemoaning their fate, for tiaras and the coiffure of the moment are decidedly not on speaking terms, and it is the tiara that hes to suffer. The woman with the Gismonda head dress wil! be the sensation of the opera season. This same woman has a pair of gold opera glasses, which have just been fin- ished, which are studded with diamonds. Enameled opera glasses are very muc: used, and are so wonderfully cheap they are within the reach of everybody. Of jeweled devices for the corsage there is no end, the most beautiful one on ex- hibition being a briolet valued at $6,000. It is thickly intrusted with small brilliants, in a Louis XIV design, and a dozen pierced diamonds dangle from it. The art of pierc- ing these diamonds is most difficult, and often a man will work for three weeks to make the tiny incision, which is no larger than the finest needle when finished. The work on this remarkable jewel was all done here. Abroad, engraving diamonds is the lat- est fad, tut they are rarely successfully cut, and when most successful can scarce- ly be called beautiful, so the fad promises to be short lived. Sapphires are more easily engraved, and nothing is smarter for a man’s ring than a shield sapphire, engraved with a crest or coat of arms, and mounted in a massive gold setting. The Empress Eugenie is credited with having possessed the most beautiful jewels of this century. Certainly no others have served more largely as models. Belts and buckles form the province the hangings n color which jewels have invaded in full force.’ Every buckle that is not jeweled is scorn- ed, and plain belts are merely tolerated, unless they are of Russian manufacture. Then they are allowed to rank next to their more luxurious confreres. . Of the two belts sketched, one is Rus- sian gold braid, studded with five large amethysts set in Etruscan gold. The clasp is formed of three picked amethysts, simi- larly set, the middle amethyst being a specimen stone nearly two inches in length. Amethysts Fi jonable. Amethysts were brought into fashion less than a year ago, and their vogue has as- sumed tremendous proportions, so much so that they ure threatened with the fate of over-popularity—extinction. While violet and purple are so much worn these jewels are bound to prove of incaleul- able value in carrying out the color scheme of a toilet. One of the smartest gowns worn at one of the recent Coffntry Club's dances was cf violet chiffon, mae plainly and se- verely, the skirt falling in full, soft, siraight folds. The Bebe waist, made with tiny short puff sleeves, and the girdle en- circied by this same amethyst belt, a col- lar of pearls clasped with an amethyst heart, surrounded by brilliants and sur- mcunted by a diamond coroiet, and an old-fashioned rosette of amethyst pendants fasiened on one side of the plain little corsage, completed this most artistic gown, that made its wearer a symphony in violet. The other belt is woven of fine eold links set with obiong Persian turaudises. Chatelaines are never as generally worn here as they are in Paris. There every woman has her chatelaine, of more or less value, aceordirg to her circumstances, and wears jt constantiy; but here, unless a woman owns her own carriage, she is very apt to say, “What is the use of it?” when it comes to the chatelaine question, for it sim- ply means taking a cab every time one goes ‘out, or else leaving it at home. As the cheap cab system is one of the few things American Logg ey ay has moe qagcom- ished as yet, the great majority of Amer- foan women sre forced to forego the clat- but that } ter and clang so dear to the feminine heart if ecguiemengpcenrs chatelaine. va newest chatelaine is a long, small linked chain, attached to a gold safety pin. Gladness Comes Wit a better understanding of the transient nature of the many ical ills, which vanis! before pi forts—gentle asante rightly directed. e is comfor the knowledge, that so many forms of sickness are not. due to any actual dis- ase, but simply to a constipated condi- tion of the system, which the pleasant family laxative, Syrup of Figs, prompt- ly removes. That is why it is the only remedy with milliorsof families, anc everywhere esteemed:so highly by all who value good health. Its benefici effects are due to the fact, thet it one remedy which prox i cleanliness without debilitating t organs on which it acts. It is there all important, in order to get its Ly ficial effects, to note when you pur- chase, that you have the genuine arti- -h is manufactured by the Cali ig Syrup Co. only and sold all reputable druggists. If in the enjoyment of good health, and the system is regular, laxatives or other remedies are then not needed. If afflicted with any actnal disease, onc may be commended to the most skillfal physiciaas, but if in need of a laxative. one should have the best, and with the well-informed everywhere, Syrup of Figs stands highest and is most largely used and gives most general satisfaction This chain is nine or ten inches long, « attach 1 to it is a cross piece Pendan. from it are tive or from an inch and a half t Inches long, on which are hung the o nearest to the wearer's fancy. The chatelaine sketched has box, a pencil, a tiny watch, memorandum tablets and a vinaisrette They are all in gold, and the top of the vinaigrette is formed @f an amethyst. sur- rounded by diamonds, while the top of the pencil is formed of an uncut amethyst French women let this ch ne hang at its full length, and they select lengths t permit of the trinkets striking the knee, which insures at each step the clatter and clang they are so fond of and consider chic. Often a gold purse is also hung on the chatelaine, though many women prefer to wear these purses on a separa chain, hung about the neck. The top of the favorite purse is formed of one large amethyst or topaz, set in wide Etruscan gold. In card cases the greatest novelty is a gold case which ts a compromise between the card case of our grandmothers and th cigarette case of—well, not our grandmoth- ers. Tne most elaborate have o: poat-of- arms or whatever device vest lined in brilliants. These cases are vw ood style, hcwever, when they are quite plain, with the cont-of-arms simply en- graved. Another very unusual card case is 0§ Russian enamel in blue and white and studded vith turquoises, Card ses of snake skin, monkey skin and elephant hide of ro nye a bonbon a miniatare, are ulso smart when bound in gold, with the coat-of-arms applied ir: gold. All gold mountings, to be correct, must have the red gold finish. Buckles and Clasps. As for jeweled belt buckies and clasps. their name is legion, and not to possess one is a confession no woman of fashion da make. Many of the smartest buckles are Russian. Their rich enameling, thickly set with various colored stones, renders them most artistic and unusual. Again, ame- thysts are the favurite stones for these buckles; set as a roseate, they are certain- ly_most charming. Jeweled watches have been so much worn the past few years they can no longer be considered a noveliy, unless they are ai- tached to a short chatelaine entirely com- posed of stones to match. It is curious to know that all the mi lions of small diamonds that are now u to create such charming bits of jewelry were until the past ten years or so neve used in this country for setting, but were for entirely reserved polishing large: Stones. People at that time only caring for single stones and ornaments formed of single stones, they actually were not worth enough to warrant their being cut Since oculists have discovered that many of the ills that flesh is heir to co) so through straining week eyes, lorgnet have sprung into prominence, and from simple, unassuming tortoise ' shell they have graduated into veritable objets d'art. In most instances they are of gold, set With jewels, and in some cases the ‘Cir dereila tortoise shell is transformed into 8 fairy princess by its covering of gleaming diamonds. A French custom which American women are now affecting to a great extent is the systematic use of pomade on the lips. This pomade comes in little red sticks, incased in pink pasieboard boxes, and is noi, as the uninitiated might suppose, for the pur- pose of painting the lips, but for preserv- ing them against wind and cold, keeping them always soft and of a good color ani rendering a fever sore an unheard of ca- lamity. As the pomade is absorbed almost immeciately, no fictitious redness is dis- cernible five minuics after it is applied. A well-groomed woman will use this pomade several times a day, and always before go- ing into the air. Charming little gold pomade boxes just the shape of the original pink cardboard box can be found at the leading jewelers They, too, are set with stones of one kind or another, and certainly no woman who values her personal appearance should be without one and its contents. Then there are jeweled hat pins galore— indeed, they are getting ordinary through their multiplicity and through their cheap imitators. Imitation, we are taught, is the sincerest flattery, but it would be well to insert the word excelient at the beginning of the axiom, or else we must venture to doubt. Mary’ of the imitations of jewels are excellent, but certainly the tawdry stuff seen on the counters of some of the shops is an insult to purchasers endowed with intelligence. tee Her Mamma Told About It. From the Chicago Tribune. Little Girl—“Here’s another closet. Hain’t we got lots of ‘em in our house Neighber’s Little Girl—“Yes. My mam- ma says there's a skeleton in one of ‘em Let me see it, will you?” eee Cheers at the Feas\ From the Chicago News, Avcnt Furby Low—“Law, Silis, h it sez in the paper in big letters: “Cheers at a feast! Ainten that redickulost ” Uncle Silas-“I shud say so--I wonder, bgcsh, if it is their custom t’ stand up when they're eatin’.” IT CAN’T BE DONE. NO ONE CAN REMAIN WELL, NO CHRONIC DIs- EASE CAN BE CURED UNLESS ‘TILE STOMACH 1S FIRST MADE coe oe AND VIGOROUS. at is is plain, because every organ in the body de- ads on the stomach for its nourishm Nerve, Benes sinew, blow are made from the food whicl the stomach’ converts to our use. How useless to treat disease with this, that and the other remedy and neglect the most ‘Important fall, the stomach. =n s ie" ea sFmptors of indigestion are sour vis- ings, bad taste in the mouth, gas in stomach and | bowels, palpitation, all-gone feeling, faintness, headaches, constipation; later comes of thesh, cousumption, liver and “heart troubles, kidney dis eases, nervous ration, all of which are the io: direct result nutrition. art's Ds+pepsin Tablets, allowing it to dissolve in the movih and thus mingle with the saliva and en- ter the stowach ip the most natural These Tablets are highly recommended by ‘onison Decause they are composed of the natural digestive cids and frust essences which assist the stomach digesting all wholesome fooé before it has time to ferment and ore, aay Stuart's Dyspepsia Tablets are sol @ragetsts, Sa stad peckinges t 50 cents. ire also ex- cellent for inv: and children. A on stom. page ot Sectheoniety of ge aci6&19