Evening Star Newspaper, March 20, 1897, Page 20

Page views left: 0

You have reached the hourly page view limit. Unlock higher limit to our entire archive!

Subscribers enjoy higher page view limit, downloads, and exclusive features.

Text content (automatically generated)

20 DRUMSHEUGH BUYS A WED- UNG RESET BY IAN MACLAREN. th special michael eral approval of | when Whinnle, in whom there was erve broke in | upon an olé n threshed til it had t ndoned through despair of another grain of wheat ok weel, Lor joon to the general, an they need at the | k oot what it means ma- ks passed over Whinni th contempt, “for he wes/ ta’en up wi’ her; he juist scat | her in kirk an’ ae day hé wes that | that he didna see the ladle till a’ him, an’ gin he a pit in a sover- eign: na, he wes n infatuat’ wi’ | the lassie The Kirkyard yielded before such _ir- resistible evidence. and waited for Hil- locks’ solution of the mystery. “A’ve been wonderin’. neeburs, gin the auld e lid na drive the pige through the gairden; he sd an’ maisterfu’, an’ he i ha. ntin’ a lord’s dochter for he ‘ill seek far an’ a lass that ‘ill carry ‘arnegie; she passed ore laist, an’ she hes look and the walk o' a countess. There's nd o° whirl in her walk aboot the waist ra takin’. It n awfu’ peety, but a’ doot she’s missed it.” “What think ye. Jamte?” for Drums- ugh ced the keen relish with which ur cynic had been following Hillocks’ f dissertation on gentle ladies and their ¢ Wha's to blame?” but her a’m judgin’, an scusted wi’ her. Gin half r be true, the lassie micht hae married lord i lived in a cast and been ess 0” Kilspindle in coorse o' time, queen. Wi her tongue an’ her blood an’ her position, - micht na hae dune.” . Jamie,” Whinnte enthusiasm—so had man—‘gin she hed lad mair cautious * * *” think that ony woman in her wud fing awa sic chances juist be- Jamie spoke with an accent of de- fathers hung on his lips she wes left tae herself wi * * * a Free Kirk f of < a proo} mon mind a rmichael wes clean t Maister ¢ the miss sin the first day she drove Kildrummie, an’ Elspeth Mae- reipit there wud be a match: hae believit?" Then, at the Kilspindie and the of Drumtocht even Hil- nerve gave way. “Keep’s a’, fouks s no wiselike; it's against the verra * things. ye drawin’ oor leg Jamie? wonder y . think © taken aback. Hil- a'm japin ye; but as sure | here. they‘re pledged, an’ | xt winter iltustration o° the foolishness | nature.” moralized Jamie, “and maks fair ashamed. Tae think that a woman o” full age an’ o' gude blude sud re- a lord an’ fling awa a fortune for nae- t Iuve is fearsome. The Glen ‘Ill " wunner gin they ‘ill hae to trict Jamie, aboot the Glen,” and spoke with such emphasis thers almost started: “there's man nor wumman in e blude ‘ill no rin faster St o° the auld Carnegie t hters an’ loyalest family Perthshire—coonts silver an’ gold an’ | an’ lands but the sma’ dust i’ the | nee aside I rd. hai Ss prayer amid was Hillocks’ al wreck of the r found it hard to e gene ir of disgust E Stare at me as if I wes a ider), resum Drumsheugh, for am no oot 0 Ss. an’ a’m no blind t rcumsta . ha, luve hes n’ boo! it wudna be at Gen. Carnegie’s daughter to a fairmhoose for th ly 0 ke a ¢ honor wae 2 judgin® the land. spise a'thing but an} for want im twice . fouks, a wi were eugh’s un- nsidera- red from nd to end by | themselves up to dis- arnips, by the de, in d at two fun | having the slighte | ut rather with the grav- | gation, it was 5 how muck ar after the ankrupt lodg w The Hallie Sitting on His Throne. her new t as a Free Kirk minister's wife—opinion much dtvided—which of the Yo would rule—opinion unanimous and mphatic—and who proposed on which the women had no doubt, and the men. ylelding to the judgment of experts, used to hoe six yards in silence, and then exclaim, “Sall, Bhe’s a lady.” From thé first day of the news Drum- hiv knew (and welcomed) their dutv, t was felt right that the Free Kirk People should have the lead and make their choice in the important matter of a di = gift. Hillocks anticipated one bbath that they would seize the op- Portunity of Carmichael’s absence, and it was known at the market that a meeting had been held on Monday and a committee @ppointed. For wecks this secret body sat, &enerally at Archie Moncur’s, and vague Tumors oozed out and engaged the interest of the Glen. A pony chaise, a bow window his wife in the dining room, but of coorse |he ‘ill open the door for her, and she “ill | need some room for her ain.” | “A'm no denying what ye say aboot | anither rcom, but a’ thocht th e miss wud juist sit in the study wiv te minister, | all honor to Gen. Carnegie’s daughter an’ | oor minister's wife.” | “A'm sure o’ that, but the study ‘ill no do aifte t month; nae man can prepare ki wi? ony- |body in the room; a’m telt that the young | ministers walk aboct a’ day an’ speak tae | | | bailie—for MacCallum nad once riled that high p nd therefore retained the title | for life—being tn carriage and appearance THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, MARCH 20; 1897-24 PAGES. * . a iver tea service, a study tabie, had ail been discu d and dismissed, the Glen began to get impatient. “It's no easy deciding.” Burnbrae ex- plained to Drumsheugh, who ‘had been se- vere cn the delay at the Junction; “some | are ower little an’ some are ower a’m thinkin’ we'll need tae be | wi a timepiece, an’ maybe some for the dming room, ye ken.” ful, nae doot”’—and from the Jamie Soutar knew Drumsheugh had & proposal of his own—‘an’ suitabe, but what wud ye say tae pit yir present in the drawing room whar Mrs. Carmichael ‘ll be sittin’? Yell want it to look weel for her aifter the lodge.” in the mans st “Drumsheugh, as sure as a’m sittin’ here a o's ever thocht o° a drawing room; | w hed naethin’ but unmar- | ; div ye think it's needfu’ * * ¢ things richt?” and Burnbrae re- | Drumsheugh anxiously | ye no ken that thei a ing room at oor manse, an’ that wh the coonte the door after dinner, and alone to the drawing room, dines there the doctor open: vut she goes n’ the doc’ s a bow as she passes, and then he down to his glass of wine wi’ the | Noo a’m judging there ‘ill be differ- ~ in the Free Kirk manse, an’ Ma! ter Carmichael ‘il maybe no stay behind an’ gin onybody come in she cud slip into the dining room; but we're wantin’ to do themselves, and it disna do for them to be seen. An’ mair ror that, the best o’ weemen are dangerous in a stud: cannet lat the books alane, an’ pittin them into wrang places: 7 con cluded Drumsheugh, diffidently, “they ca’ it tidyin’, but when Rebecca starts on that wark at the manse, the doctor declared | gan “The chairs are te be walnut. and the carpet brussels, an’ we maun haud cor ain the bailie; he’s an able man, an’ terrible gripny; it took me twa veesits to buy a bed frae him ten year back, an’ a’ ma time to beat him doon two pund. A’m glad that a've some experience an’ ken his wy. ‘oo ye're a better man than me, Burn- brae. but ye're no sae fit tae face the bai- lie; ieave the argle-bargle to me, but juist gic a nod at a time when a’m askin’ for a reduction, an’ ye micht wag yir head wi’ astonishment at the prices: gin a’ say ony- thing ye're no verra sure aboot, ye can tak a turn doen the place an’-no hear. “An’ there's juist ae thing mair: for ony sake dinna lat on heo muckle siller we've colleckit; gin the baille gets wind o° forty eight pund—there wud be nae dealin’ wi him. na, we'll no tempt him; we'll gang cautiousl. Burnbrae noticed that on the instant of Drumsheugh’s entrance the bailie descend- ed to the floor, as if he recognized a for- ‘+r combatant of skill—facing him boldly nd jingling his money to the tune of cots wha hae.” ‘The bailie scented at once that two Drum- tochty men of solid means had not come to buy kitchen chairs, and knew that would need all his wits, but he indic: no curi as to the object of their visit, ond it was only after a lengthy treatment on that day’s market that Drumsheugh be- © approach the point mill quiet wi you the noo, no sae easy getting rid o’ tables as a stack o’ corn; this ‘ill be the time o° year for us coun fouk to get a tat reduction are ye makin’ on s stock, bailie?” e passea_a shop in the High street whar ‘ill find what ye want, and get something for yir money: what quarter the stuff cam oot 0’, dear kens; but wi’ a lick o’ polish an’ a titch o’ glue here and there, cKelvie’s com- ple! ;m,”” and the bailie gave an ex provost to understand, with a jerk of extra menace, that he would pass th: door once too often. ‘ome ‘wa,’ said the bailie, his thumbs in the armholes of his waistcoat, led the way to the back, with the air of one who knew where there was a smooth, level piece of turf, and wished to have the dis- vite settled without delay. His walk was martial that Drumsheugh called Burn- “Business a’m thinkin “FORTY-THREE FOR THE HALE HYPOTHIC IS MY LAST WORDS.” e it only time he wantit to tention with his elbow, and whis- eee Sie eaet aie i The bailie’s fair roosed; we ‘ill see “There wud be a table an’ sax chairs’ | bis best stuff, but’ ma word,”—and the Burnbrae had been going over the mat- | of the coming contlict was left his mind—“as weet as a hic sofa | sferred end, an’ maybe ane 0’ thae cup- | _“‘Is’t another birch bed ye're aifter?” and boards in the front, an’ a’thins | maun be bonnie wood, tae say naething 0° a carpet. Oor fouk ‘iil gic their best, but fear it's beyond us.” z It cowes a'thing to hear you Free Kirk fouk; ye wud think there wes naebody in the Glen but yirsels; what ails ye at the Auld Kirk gm we wantit to join in the drawing recom? A’ ken where a note or twa cud be got carpet: ye're verra neeburly, Apart from the ood teeling excited the combination of the two kirks in matter of the drawing room, it w by the Free Kirk that the neces xain in Muirtown would be safest in the ands of Drumsheugh, so that while Burn- brae might be present as colleague he was on no account to interfere with the man- agement. For years the Muirtown market had been the scene of Drumsheugh’s tri- umphs, and the opinion was freely ex- pressed in the Glen that his purchase of the wedding gift would be a monumental work. No one on the Friday morning did | more than touch on the weather with him, | and he himself only glanced at the market before lum’'s was a shabby ed by sight from the street. for it had | y one window, and a person coming tn saw nothing but a hat stand, a table on | h MacCailum used to sit, and a pile of | -bottomed chairs piled in a corner: all | no tting off with Burnabrae tor Mac- It little shop | which articles had stood there in the same position for a generation. Nor had window any vain display: a bale of nd two footstools suggested rather an displayed the nature of the business arried on within, and the mere addition of a chair would have been disturbing. 'T! y—was alv ex-magistrate ys clothed, in ful? bla x FI ry 4 ES ee an impressive stock, also white, and a tail | y) hat set well back on the | 1. Passers-by could generally itiing on his throne; with one | sand in a trouser pocket, where he jingled money without ceasing, and the thumb of | ther hand tn the opposite pocket of waistcoat, and he sat at that angle to | he door that he could just watch the peo- } going in and out of a bank across the | nd return the salute of friends, | which he did by jerking his head in a for- | bilding manner, as if warning them that his eye was upon them, and they had bet- pr take care. He was not of the race cap in hand at a door an¢ nds before the public with se observanc If any householder town or district desired a new table then the bailie could be found in his place ny day of the year, except Sabbath, and any hour between 10 and 5, 1 to 2 excepted, nd would sell him that table on fair terms, or anything else the householder might want within the bounds of the bailie’s de- partmen:, for he drew the line rigidly, and would only supply @ coal scuttle if it were cased in wood, and used to send purchasers of a washing stand to a neighboring china shop for the ewer and basin. When a sgow firm opened a place, and aston- ed Muirtown by showing the furnishing of a different room in their window every Week, neighbors dropped in to inform the bathe. “Alfter a bed room has been in the sun for a week, an’ the streets have had their fill o't, I coont that furniture second hand, an’ it wouldna sutt my custome And from that day to the tlosing of the foreign through sheer want of business, the never again alluded to the subject. His hold on the town was only broken by the fastidiousness of a few persons who in Edinburgh and in one pre- rous case in London—the bailie refused to repair that furniture on its arrival in | Stating that ft would corrupt his ‘als—and the country folk he had i. His father established the in the days when boxbeds began aken down, when there was a brisk demand for canopied beds. His son had built It up on the growing ambitions of farmers’ wives who had spare bed rooms, and in a few cases wer2 attempting draw- ing rooms, which were never used, and had for their solitary ornament baskets of wax trult under glass. Sons came as their fa- thers had done Before them, and the bailfe was never ashamed to meet any one, for nothing ever passed out of that door that Was not of sound wood and good workman- ship. The calculated and unabashed pover- ty of the front shop had its justification in the rooms bacgeage as as a shabby coat almost proves a millionalre—for every one knew that from his treasure house the baille could supply any article from a kitch- en dresser to a mahogany bookcase, and that on one floor the bedsteads stcod twen- ty in a row and the chests of drawers were piled to the roof. So vast was the space, and so intricate the passages which wound in and out among the furniture, that it was freely told how a Carse woman, hav- ing lingered behind her party to admire a wardrybe, lost her way utterly, and was found by a search expedition, after an hour, indifferent to circumstances, and affably addressing her own likeness in a looking glass. os On the way Drumsheugh went over their directions with Burnbre, and pledged that worthy man co-operation in the cam- paign. (and very shab! for al p street the bailie wheele air round at the foot of t “Ye took a’ the profit on the | t ilie: ye’re ower dear for me; s clean extravagance; but ye Kirk fouk are giein’ a Dit ee nister on his marriage. re subscribing five shil- lings or the like o’ that to * © = “How much have ye gathered?” inter- rupted MacCallum. “Weel, Burnbrae, we micht gae the length 0 five-and-twenty pund wi a scrape, ye bailie, an’ in the cireum- | stances we're expectin’ ye will be leeberal anes e “What do you think o’ a study chair an’ table wi’ a brass plate? 1 could maybe mana that for the money in the circum- The verra thing, but bide a wee, bailie: ye see the minister hes his study furnished, an’ the fouk thocht ane or twa bits o° things for a drawing room * * * “Ye micht hae said that at aince, twa stair up,” ‘ and the bailie gave his hat a tilt ck tll it rested on the collar of his coat. “There's nacthing wrang wi't that a’ can Burnbra and Drumsheugh passed his hands along the legs of a walnut table | as if he trying whether it had been down; “but what's yir figure? Twal pund for this slim-legged shakin’ affair? Baille, ye're jokin’. Gin ye said ten pund, wi’ d ‘cont for ready money, we micht begin tae | deal “A’ ken that ye hae a fixed pri respect ye for't, and gin a’ wes a merchant or o' yir big fi didna ken what to dae wi’ money, ye would be right to take yir price, but a handfu’ puir country fouk * * *° “Aye, we're wantin’ a chair or two, an’ if It wes possible, Drumtochty would be disappointed no to hae an armchair * * thirty pund for the set? Burnb! clean havers an’ juist waistin’ time: w hev tae try Glesgie aifter a’, as Hillcocks jd, but a’ dinna like passin’ Muirtown: an’ a’ fuirtown rmers that | eight-and-twenty is mair reasonable, an’ gin ye make it seven, a’m no the man to lose the armchair * * * re richt. Burnbrae’—who had never poken except to admire so generously that his colleague had twice flung reproving looks at him—‘a couch, did ye ca’ it. Bai- lie? would be a terrible affset, but it's doonricht ¥ cked m “We ere juist ower simple, bailie, an’ Baein’ beyond ma duty, but * * * pund * * * there's to be twa ma sune in the glen, an’ they ‘ill need plenishin’ * * * read hoo ye treatit it * * * weel, a’ll face 8% pounds. As they were leaving, Drumsheugh was struck, as if by accident, with a carpet, and returned twice to examine it with re- Ye "ll take that carpet to complete the room? * * * Money? I i ye have every penny o’ ® pounds in your pocket. * * © Forty-three for the hale hypothic is my last word,” and the bailie went down stairs. “What say ye, Burnbrae? Are ye wul- lin’ to advance the money? That ‘ll be 40 for ready * * * mercy on’'s, that’s rough language, an’ you a magistrate * * * a’ coontit on a reduction * * © y hard man, bailie, but there's yir 4 an’ ye ‘ll penny. “Come noo, bailie, ye maun na s aboot twa simple fairmers; but a’m no greedy, so lat the luck-penny stand.” Drumsheugh considered that he had not utterly failed as trustee of Drumtochty's liberality, and before leaving the shop he invited the bailie to give him a cry the next time the tradgsmen’s guild made an excur- sion to Glen Urtache. This was how it came to pass that the wedding present of the glen included a handsome timepiece, which Drumsheugh bought with the sur- plus in hand—a remaining ninepence was expended on a bottle of furniture polish— and Bailie MacCallum, seeing Drumsheugh pass one day next winter, and having by that time learned the exact amount of Drumtochy’s subscription, descended from his table and went into his office without any audible word Which could be printed. > After the Amateur Drama. From the Cleveland Plain Dealer. “I know we ought to have had a dress rehearsal.” “What's the trouble?” “Why, when I said to Tom Skinner, ‘Kneel, sirrah, and on bended knee pay homage to your lady queen,’ he spoke right out and said: jot on your life—in these tights,’ a not« @ie back 10 shillings for a luc! y that From Life. The song of the tenor geep we list, Encoring loud and long. Were truth confessed, we've often missed The tenor of the song. coe Nothing Unusual. Fiom Tid-Bits, Becker—“I see by the posters that Foot- lights, the tragedian, travels under his wife's management.” Dgcker—“So do most men, only they don’t advertise it.” AN UNSOUGHT PLACE +3 The Office of Treasurtiof the United how Statess« —-+ aT ENTAILS T00 GREAT RESPONSIBILITIES OF n Case of Loss the: Deficit Must Be Made Goud. ee MILLIONS AT STAKE Se Written for The Evening Star. N THE RUSH OF applications for of- fice under the new administration there has been a singular lack of enthusiasm over the office of treasurer of the United States. Some men who look only at the salary attached to a place and do not stop to consider its duties and responsi- bilities have thought that the $6,000 a year which Treasurer organ now draws would be very accept- to them. But the men who know the treasurership involves are not ambitious to take the place. It is quite possible that in the end the President will permit Mr. Morgan to continue in office. The present treasurer is a gold demoérat and his administration of. the office has been perfectly satisfactory. His term gloes not expire in any event until the Ist” of June and it is not likely that he wil be disturbed before that time, even if some good repub- lican is found willing to fill his shoes. There never is a rusk:for the office cf treasurer. The duties of- the office are not cnerous, but the responsibilities of the place are so great that few men would care ume them. The treasurer of the States has charge of the millions dollars of gold, silver and paper cur- rency stored in the vaults of the Treasui Department and of the other millions beit handled in the offices of the redemption ¢i- vision, the national bank note division, ete. For the safety of these enormous sums he gives a bond of $150,000—a perpetual bond. If a shortage should be difeovered in the treasury vaults a hundred years hence and it could be traced back to the period when Mr. Morgan was treasurer, the heirs of his bondsmen could be held responsible for it. On the other hand, the clerks and mes- sengers who handle the millions of money in the treasurer's office give no bond to se- cure him against loss by their carelessness or dishonesty. All these clerks are held ac- countable for the money they handle; but if one of them should steal a million’ dol- lars—and that fs a possibility singular as it may seem—or, if by some mischance a large sum should be mislaid or should disappear from the vaults or the desks without leav- ing a trace of its des\Mation, and the clerks responsible for- sits safekeeping were found to be unablesto make good the less, the treasurer woul have to return the meney to the goverfiment and nothing but an act of Congress watid relieve him of the obligation. Not lonstlago some sheets of bills disappeared froth ohe of the treas- ury bureaus and could rbt be traced. Their ai the treasury, and, moistening the tip of his finger, turn up the end of one after the other so rapidly that his eye could not fol- low them, and his count was made by the sense of touch. The expert counters in the treasury take the bundles of notes from the vaults and count them in this way. Each bundle contains 4,000 notes, and it takes only a minute or two to count each. Of course it is just as easy to count 4,000 $1 bills as it is to count a package of $10,000 bills worth $40,000,000. So the face value of what is in the vaults is no indication of the difficulties of the count. The number of pieces of money regulates the length of the counting. The bonds are larger than the notes, and they are counted like the sheets of un- finished notes in the bureau of engraving and printing. It takes at least three months to count the money in the treasury. The new treas- urer is not kept out of office while this work is going on. He qualifies as soon as he can give his bond for $150,000—and that is no small matter—and he does not become responsible entirely until the count is fin- ished and he gives a receipt in full to his predecessor. But virtually the responsibil- ities change when the new man comes in, for any shortage occurring in the three months when the count is going on would be charged to him, and any shortage dis- covered after he went Into office, no mat- ter how old, is charged against his prede- cessor and ngt against him if it can be traced back beyond the day when his bond was filed and he took the oath of office. The Question of Bond. There has been much talk about bonding the clerks of the treasurer's office, from time to time; but nothing has been done. The employes of the subtreasuries are bended, but that is a matter between the aselstant treasurers and their clerks. The treasurer of ihe United States could bond his clerks if he chose to do so, though there is no provision of law to warrant it. But it would be a hopeless business. It would be impossible to get an adequate bond from the clerks having the highest responsibility. Take the paying teller in the cashier's of- fice, for example. He handles about a guarter of a million dollars every day. The receiving teller handles a like amount, but most of it is in checks and not con- vertible. How could either of these em- ployes be expected to give a bond sufficient to protect the government from breach of trust? Neither of them could raise that bond among their friends, for even the treasurer of the United States who is a man of wealth and business standing finds it difficult to obtain sureties for himself. If they had to pay a surety company to face value was $200. Mr. Morgan made good the $200 and asked Cong: burse him, as he could sot place the re- sponsibility for the shortage in his office. Cen s has not made ‘good the $200 yet, but it probably will at the present ‘session. king Good the. Losses, Oriy one other loss has occurred in Mr. Morgans administraticm’ That was the appearance of S10 silyér dollars which were taken from’ the silyer vault by a yeurg man iu 1s04.. [his shortage was made good and the treasurer lost nothing by the crime. In the administrations of his predecessors there have been many thefts from the treasury, and treasurers of the United States have been required to make up large sums, but none of them has ever Icst any considerable amount. If no neg- lect on the part of the treasurer is shown Ccrgress always makes good any short- age which is not made up by the clerks at fault. When Mr. there is litth geod ELAS Morgan gives up his charge doubt he will have to make some slight discrepancy in the con- of the vaults. He does not know of ich discrepancy now, and it {s just ble none e: but it is the almost pes s invarlable rule that the treasurer, when the count of his me sinall sum urrency is made, finds that lacking. In reality this morey is not lost. Some day when the great coin vaults are cleaned up the miss- doilars will be found tn corners. But treasurer can better afford to make up the hunared dollars or so which is missing than to have the vaults overhauled.to trace a loose dollar which has fallen between the bags of money. Mr. Morgan's predecessor had to make up a small discrepancy in the cash. So did the treasurer who preceded him. li the responsibility for the missing do scan be placed, ‘he clerk responsible required to furnis the vault is n the cash; and when out in the regular course of busi and the loose money is found in the ks of the flooring the ameunt is returned to him. On the wall of Treasurer Morgan’s office hangs a small frame, in which is a receipt bearing Mr. Morgan's signature. It certi- es the recei from his predecessor of , the amount of gold and silver coin, tre ry notes, national bank notes and bonds on hand when Mr. Morgan entered the treasurer nearly four Years ago. Of this, was in the reserve, $1 $1,330,000 in uni 01.89 2-33 in bonds held by the government in trust for the Indians. When Mr. Morgan gives up his office he will have to show to his successor that there is in the keeping of the treasurer's office this amount, plus the money received by the treasurer from va- rious sources, and minus the amount paid out by him, for which he can show checks or vouchers. Just how much Mr. Morgan will turn over no one can tell now. The amcunt in the hands of the treasurer va- ries greatly from month to month, and ever from day to day. It will probably be more than eight hundred millions. All this merey will have io be counted before Mr. Morgan's successor signs a receipt for { With the exception of the silver coin, every piece gf money end every bond will be counted literally. Each piece will be han- dicd separately by the fingers of experts acting as a committee on-behalf of the re- tiring treasurer, the new,Jreasurer and the Tre.sury Department. The value of the ilver coin which will be counted by weight 1s about $152,500,000. The bags of silver will be brought from the'Vaults and weigh- ed. Each bag of dolla#rs contains 1,000 coins. A corresponding weight is placed in the opposite side of the balance, and if the bag of coin does not, {ip the beam the string is cut and the cofp’is poured out to be counted by hand. The hand count is seldom necessary, though. The counting of the paptr money ts a far less difficult operation, Assistant Treasurer Meline says, though to the layman it seems to Involve a much mor difficult and, dell- cate problem. The copfting comniittee goes into every vaultyahd breaks open every package of paper bupreney. It is not enough that the en f the packages should be broken and the.notes counted in that way. The entire Wrapper must be taken off and the notes_must lie in a loose Pile before they are counted. Counting Money. In the bureau of engraving and printing, where paper money is made, the sheets of bills are counted at every stage of the pro- cess. This counting is done by ruffling the edge of a bundle, so that the sheets stand apart, and then running the fingers through them as a pianist would:run scales on the keyboard. A thumb or finger goes into every space between two sheets, and the range of a hand is five sheets. The work is done with wonderful rapidity, and it is one of the sights which pleases and in- terests visitors to the bureau most. The counting of the package of notes in the treasury cannot be done in this way. Be- fore they are stored in the vaults, the sheets are cut up, and the single notes do not offer surface enough for the ruffling Process. Instead, the counting system in use in banks is followed by the experis. You have seen the teller. of a bank take a package of new notes, crisp and fresh from furnish the bond, their salaries would hard- ly cover the fees. The paying teller, with whom the government trusts a quarter of a million dollars every day, gets a salary of only $2,500. It would be possible, of course, for the government to increase the salaries of the tellers and clerks so as to cover the fees of the surety companies, as is done by some business concerns. But that would not be good policy. The busi- ness houses virtuatly pay the surety com- panies to exercise surveillance over their employes. The government has its secret \ service, and can attend to that. business for itself. Under the conditions, the only | thing for the treasurer to do is to be sure that his clerks are honest. Most of them are old employes—the paying teller has been in the treasury thirty-two years—and every one of them has the fullest confi- dence of his supertors. Mr. Morgan would not hesitate to give a million dollars into the keeping of any one of his clerks over night. ——. PI€TURE OF MEXICAS PROSPERITY. Even the Depreciation of Silver Has Been of Advantage. Charles F. Lummis in Harper's Magazine. Mexico is a republic in chancery; free as | we are, but less licensed; happy, safe, pros- | perous, under the system whereby we ad- | minister our homes, and proud of the re- | markable man who has done what no other | ruler of modern times has even dreamed of being able to do, and who still keeps a quiet, steady fist in the waistband of the youngster he has taught to walk. Within ten years the brigands of Mexico have been simply wiped out. It has been —to such as know the geographical obsta- <les—a marvelous achievement, and the political difficulties were as great. First, whatsoever brigand was caught—and Diaz has a way of catching—stood just long enough jn front of an adobe wall for the | firing party to crook the right forefinger. There were no hung juries nor pardon gov- ernors. Second, the same hand—so firm and swift to justice—knew flow to open an alternative door. Nowadays the bandit needs not. There is something else for him to do, and he finds it not only more salubrious, but more to his taste, to take part in the development of the patria he was proud of even when he was her curse. He would rather upbuild than tear down, if he has a chance, even if there were no “Porfirio” and no rurales. I do not know anything in history which fairly parallels these twenty years in Mexico. No other man has taken a com- parable dead weight of population and so uplifted and transformed it. The wonder is all the more because to this day every other colony of Spain in the new world looks to be the worse off for the independ- encla. Whatever we may say of the theory of self-government, in practice, not one of them was ever so miserably viceroyed or captain-generaled as it has been presi- dented four-fifths of the time since 1821. Very much the same was true of Mexico until recently. It has had patriotic rulers sometimes; but that they were at last sorry { rulers the very roster of them shows. Four presidents !n a year is hardly an index of prosperity. It Is not afr to remember when there was not a railroad in Mexico, and when other material conditions were in propor- tlon. The actual Mexico has forty rail- roads, with nearly 7,000 miles of track and everything that that implies. Its trans- portation facilities are practically as good as those of our western states, and the i vestment is far more profitable. It is net- | ted with telegraph lines (with the cheapest | tariffs in America), dotted with post offices, schools, costly buildings for public business and public beneficence. It is freer than it was ever before—with free schools, free | speech, free press. It is happier than ever before, and more prosperous than even in | the bonanza days of the magnificent silver kings of Zacatecas and Guanajuato. There are degrees, of course, by local variation of impulse or of opportunity; but there is progress everywhere—material, intellectual, moral. If the visible prosperity of Mexico, in the face of certain of its circumstances, shall seem enigmatic to sane people whose sane views are based on radically unlike sur- roundings, yet only ignorance can deny the fact. Mexico is admirably prosperous, in spite of seven years’ drouth; in spite of the Garza revolution (kindled in the United States, in ways and for reasons too com- plicated to be reviewed here); in spite of a national debt contracted when exchange was at from 8 to 16, and being paid’ with exchange at from 85 to 102; in spite even of cheap money. It has been a miracle of statesmanship, but a miracle which will never be repeated in a dissimilar land. I will try to explain, later, how even so ter- rible a blow as the depreciation of silver was to Mexico has been turned to the ad- vantage of a nation which les in the hol- low of one man’s hand. ss A Tree Clock. Professor Roberts of Cornell has growing around his house what he calls a “tree clock.” Trees are planted in such positions that one of them will shade a portion of the house at every hour of sunlight. For example, explains Rural New Yorker, at 9 o'clock in the morning the ‘‘) o'clock ‘tree” sha-les a part of the plazza, while, as the sunhght changes, the “10 o'clock tree” shades another part, and so on through the Cleve with its “rounded spoonful”. land’s Baking Powder does not go PARLE LUXURY Is. A Question of the Relative Import- ance of Things. Prof. Franklin H. Giddingx in N. ¥. Independent. the relative importance of different things. We can accomplish in our short lives com- paratively little. We can enjoy but a lim- ited number of pleasures and can satisfy but a limited number of ambitions. What pleasures shall we choose? What ambi- tions shall we achieve? The labor force and the material capital of the community is at all times a limited amount. Into what channels shall it be directed? When the rational individual puts these questions difficulty in answering for himself moral question of what is cupable !uxar To begin with, luxury is culpable w it is esthetically bad; if it does no* « the higher enjoyments of mankind: if in the long run it does not increase the sum of beauty and refinerent and of gerenal cultivation in the community. In the next Place, any luxury is culpable if it makes excessive drains upon the capital and in dustrial resources of society. Again, any luxury is culpable which leads men and women to ignore or neglect those great op portunities which are everywhere today presenting themselves to men of wealth tc add to the sum of the comforts and coi veniences and enjoyments of the Es public. Does any one suppose that as yet New York city has been made as cleanly, as wholesome a place of resi: ee for eral one suppose that we have as many or as g00d and well-equipped school buiidi as we need? Does any one suppose thai we are paying to our teachers the salaries that will command the sort Y. character and training which should be ap: plied to the instruction and moral develo; ment of the children of this community Does any one suppose that w developed the po: taste fa esthetic ters? Are our art galler-es and all that we could wish? yond improvement? Se long as the portunities for the expenditure of w: remain as large as they are today, mat libraries the question surely may be raised whether it is wise and right to cevot the pleasures of an hour. Finally, any luxury is culpable if it so far fixes the attertion of the public upon the material pleasures of life that no moral energy remains for the discharge of the duties of the citizen. Beyond any doubt we are today witnessing the decay, though perhaps not the permanent decay, of re- publican institutions. No man in his ht mind can deny this asser . Corruption rules (if ignorance does not rule) in the leg- islatures, in high and low places of govern- ment, and in all the relations of law to in dustry. If love of those things which merely minister t2 pleasure has gone so far that we c<nnot forget the pursuit of en- joyment long wnough to enter into publi interests, the saxury has become culpable. But luxury itself—the enjoyment and cul- tivation of comfort, or refinemen: and of beauty—needs no justification. It is 004 and rig@t. The old Florentine painter, whose life was, perhaps, not beyond re- proach, at any rate saw a greai truth when he affirmed that If you get simple beauty and naught else, You get about the best thtag God inv: s SeeNE LITTL A STOUT FIGHTER Whose Fighting Disposition Often Gets Him Into Trouble. Frem the Philadelphia Telegraph. The redbird, when it has gotten down hard to home-making, develops a remark- any in the woods—indeed, rather inclined to soon as the nest is completed and Mr: Redbird is installed queen thereof he gets on his war paint and will fight anything that comes along. It is by taking advan- ‘tage of the bravery of the redbird in de- fending the home that the hunter is en- abled to snare it. The trap used is a wire into the woods and slowly makes hi: through the way swamps until he reaches a aense portion, when he halts. Pretty soon the bird in the cage, delighted, doubtless at being again in its native woods, even if bars stand between it and liberty, begins singing with ell its might. If there is a recbird within the sound of the caller's voice it hastens to investigate. One of the peculiar habits of the redbird, hunters say, is that there seems, by common conseni, to be a division of the woods among them, each bird having appropriated to his es pecial jurisdiction a certain allotment of woods. Sometimes other birds, either by mistake or for the purpose of acquiring more territory, invade the domain of an other, whereupon there is a fierce fight, which is called off only when one or the other of the birds conquers, in which case the victor becomcs the possessor of the territcry of the two, together with the de- feated bird's mate, who, it seems, is no lenger willing to share fortunes with her former lord after he has proven himself a pcor fighter. The hunter has on one side of his cage a light net, bound about by a light frame, and to the center of a light iron rod, stretched perpendicularly across this frame is attached in swinging position a short, rounded stick, about six inches in length. This gate of netting is opened and kept in that position by the wooden trigger at- tached to the sides of the cage wherein is the call bird. This connection of the two triggers is very delicate, and the slightest touch will suffice to throw it, whereupon the netting frame door is quickly closed by a spring against the sides of the cage. This is what holds the redbird captive. As soon as the hunter has set the trigger of his cage he hangs it to a limb some- where or places it on the ground and goes day. On a hot summer day this “tree clock” insures a succession of shady places around the house. away some distance to await results. The imprisoned redbird soon begins to sing, and presently, if there is a redbird anywhere ‘The whole question, therefore, as to what | constitutes culpable luxury is a question of | clearly before his mind he will have no | the population as it may be made? Does any | Are our parks be- | 2 enormous sums to | able tendency to fignt. At all other times | of the year he is as docile and gentle as | take a great deal from other birds—but as | cage. Within this cage is a tame bird, one which has been in captivity for a year or two, and sings freely. The hunter wanders | as others, with their “heaping spoonful,” but it lasts longer and is more economical, within hearing dist of wings, a series fore the hunter ca redbird flies headlo emy in the cage. ptured. It takes v ture a redbird at than it does te fo: <s of | everything else, fight. The Very Sma’ | From Scrttner’s. yard is a fair profit | tory. cotton and shoe: comparatively factories of smal whole fiel uct of factori | to the c sert t | is consta labor inere: point, capital bu being that small, and growin while with fancy known as | the rule make, sells at reta | fancy calicoes may what they cost to a cent a | between c st £ | ing $2 to make, sell at retatl for see NOT AN ANARCHIST. covered Whi Prom the New York Su | Thursday evening. left arm a litt or a plan.” an anarchist. His | record, how The young marked b; for a bottle and a happened that thre turmoil. The had sat on a tack, of his chair. Th trical buzz of an i as somewhat suspi a state of mind as not imagine whe from. specting his chair. respective places. es?” baby isn’t a boy.” From Puck. Mrs. Brown (at consequent advertis' hrows The difference b manufacture and the the share falling to the middleman or mea varies according te the class of pro: novelties heavy cotton cloth, square light wrapping paper and tied with a pink that sounded to the A Bond an of s) n say ne his t catch a fish caged bird is placed in the right sp: in the territory of the other re he hears its singing the rest is very all per he rushes tee | In calico printing one-tenth of a - In paper man. ; three to five per cent upon the product will yield 10 per cent upon the capital invested In sugar refining one-six profit upon a pound is for In making pianos th of the operatives are high, as » and the cap 1 Wa ew York and i it wiil be found that the is constantly value and wages increasing ital involved. shal t thi re t in st z sma xoods it © il fe at and retail Wa A sedate-lcoking young man strolled an abstracted way into produce. trigger and is longer to cap- of the year If « the t with birds and eas ime sonal sat madly and the to OSE CALCULATION. nth of a « e than satisf. average w ompared to al involved the Lees nearly $20 a week, taking the whole shop. |but the profit upon the product in good years runs as high as 15 nt. In the | | manufacture of locomotives the average | Wage is high, ro women final ploy ment, while in the manufacture of small j arms it ts correspondingly low, women bie- ing larg employed. Reviewing — th growing in as compared conomisis the profits white that iM a moc the co 1 selling pri t, aple goods it is Mer cvery year, and what are large. Common ing eicht cents to about cent ri s. An Alarm Before the Young Man Dis. ~ Loaded. in Delmonico’s on He carried unier his Methodical men are sometimes as dang ous as those who work “without a purpose There was nothing about the aspect of the young man that might | the casual observer to suspe hair | length and his Linen was faultless that there have bes | archists who have defied the tr their kind and have become addicted to w bath and fine apparel. man set his package down on | the table with a carefuln anned ter bird. Pw the oung man zor ckage done up in string. He was apparently a man of methodical habits. The hotel detective mentally noted this for future reference lead “t him of being was of ordinary It is on n an- ditions of that was re- the waiter who took his order, and did act recognize him as a steady cu: and ad- oung man leaned back the remarking: bill of fare. “I think I will take a plate of beef and. Then he realized where he was, nd called Then something restaurant into up as if he and examined the seat was 4 mu ed clatter Waiters hke the infernal machine regarded the movements of the cious. the w the Forty | restaurant had concentrated a startled g: trying his best to look as if afraid. The stolid expression of the man changed to one of joyful relief. picked up the pink-corded package, and the sound that came from it the hotel detective that the young man had bought an alarm clock. smiled and returned in a hurry to their The young man did not know that the alarm clock was loaded. coe A Sad Truth. From the Chicago Record. “The best type of man always concedet that woman is the noblest created being. * the ing. sos whir-r-r-r young m The young man himself seemed to be in almost as much of He could came aiters, He pecred under the table after in- the persons in upon him. He was unaffe by their | scrutiny, bat was much puzzled by the muf- | fled) whir-r-r-r-r. Sixteca aiters gathered aroun’ him, | looking pale and apprehensive. The otel | detective stalked toward the young man e ne oung He convinced even All the waiters “Ami then he acts med because the first of Union. matinee)—“That actress is married to the leading man of the company we saw last week, and they just hate each other.” Mrs. Jones—“Indeed? It is a wonder one of them doesn’t secure a divorce.” Mrs. Brown—“Well, each fears that the other might get the greater share of the “Wart” ads. in The Star pay because they bring answers. RAPID TRANSIT.

Other pages from this issue: