Grand Rapids Herald-Review Newspaper, July 30, 1898, Page 6

a relative p yoy oeaeyereyoloy CHAPTER VII. (Continued.) “Stephen,” said Oscar, laying his band impressively upon his brother’s arm, “nothing will ever convince me that I had anything to do with that poor lad’s death, even by accident.” “That's a comforting theory, at all events, if you can bring yourself to believe it,” remarked Stephen, drily; “but I tell you, plainly, you'll scarcely get anyone else to swallow it, and I think, were I you, I'd keep it to my- self. All you have to do is to get well as quickly as you can, face this formal- ity of a trial and receive the sympathy and congratulations of your friends.” A pained look crossed Oscar's face. His brother's flippant cynicism jarred every fiber of his sensitive nature. Nor did he again refer to the subject until the question of instructing his lawyers far his defense came up for discussion. The good people of Winchester were somewhat disappointed with the long- expected trial when it actually came off; and although the London report- ers specially sent down, contrived to fill several columns with fairly-inter- esting copy, there was little of a sensa- tional character to chronicle that 4vas not already public property. scar, who was still too weak to stand for any length of time, was al- lowed a chair in the dock, and pleadea “Not guilty,” in loud, clear tones, that all might hear. And then counsel for the Crown followed the line marked out for him. The prisoner, he told the jury, might deem himself fortunate in that he stood before them charged on- ly with manslaughter. What were the facts which he (the learned counsel) would presently substantiate by nu- ed’s first cousin, and next, after jon to a baronetcy and estates rent-roll of some £12,- 000 per year. Secondly, it would be shown that the prisoner and deceased Were upon extremely bad terms, so much so that, at least upon one occa- sion, they had nearly come to blows. Thirdly, they were discovered lying almost side by side in a lonely wood, the youthful heir shot through the heart and the prisoner insensible from the effects of a blow. It would be proved that the right barrel of the prisoner’s gun was found to have been discharged, and that the size of the pellets extracted from the Jody of the deceased corresponded with that of the pellets remaining in the other barrel. And it would fur- thermore be proved that the nature and direction of the fatal wound, the itions of the two bodies when discovered, and of the prisoner’s gun, pointed mgst ¢ to the con- elusion that the prisoner had shot the deceased at almost point-blak dis- tance. For the defense, doubtless, great stress would be laid upon the difficulty 1nding how the p ibly have fired his gun after blow upon his head which Ned him, and, at the first , that did appear an impossibili- ty. Doubtle: the doctors would have something to say on this subject. he (the learned counsel) could quite of a man having a sufficient g of reason left, even after a murderous blow, to pull a trigger. 2ally, the jury would have to ask selves, if all the evidence adduced failed to convince them that the pris- over fired the fatal shot, “How me Dere Deane by his death? And this question, in th eeyes of any reasonable nian, surely left no loophole of escape for thé prisoner. The latter, he wouid remind them, was not on trial for his life. The Crown was satisfied with the more merciful view that there had been a fresh quarrel between the cou- sins, that Derek De: had clubbed the prisoner, who had retaliated by -Suvoting him at the ne instant. And ir they accepted this lenient and prob- able explanation of the tragie event, they would bring in a verdict of “Guilty” against che prisoner, Oscar Deane. ry is generally good until an- id, and the prosecuting coun- s Caused some sensation in sels addre: «court, the general opinion being that ; 's were looking rather black for Nor was this impression ned by the evidence given by ntil Dr. Rowan and the ist came under cross- London spe ination. counsel (to s junior) elicited from both a most emphatic denial of the possibil- ty that Uscar skould have wittingly fired aiter he had been struck. From the nature of the injury inflicted, such 4 supp terly absurd. And when the court ad- journed for luncheon, the opinion was whom Stephen gaining ground that the prisoner would { get off after all. The defense ran upon lines within very narrow limits. Counsel ridiculed his learned friend’s suggestion that the prisoner might deem himself. fortunate in merely being charged with man- slaughter. The unfortunate gentleman, he ayerred, would never have been committed at all but for the gross stu- pidity of the coroner's jury. As for the relatiovship between bim | and the deceased, and their quarrelings (upon which much stress had been laid) these were points utterly irrelevant to the case, because they implied motive, and motive was wholly inconsistent with manslaughter—as his lordship would doubtless tell them, later on. They were thus reduced to the bare finding of the bodies and to the reason- able inferences that might be derived | therefrom. There were no witnesses to that bloody drama in Bramham Woods. One of the actors in it was dead. The other, tue prisoner, was de- erred from giving evidence. But he, But | ion was, they asserted, ut- : ; he should be run down (as yet), yey The Doom of = Deanshutst. his counsel, was not debarred from stating upon the prisoner’s behalf (they will, of course, use their own discretion about believing the state- ment) that angry words had passed that the prisoner turned to go, and re- members nothing more. Of course they must all agree with the learned counsel for the prosecution that someone fired the shot, and that the probabilities pointed to the prison- er as that someone. Quite so. But he could not have done so wilfully. He appealed to the jury to do the sorely- troubled gallant officer now in the dock the tardy justice of acquitting him, without even leaving their box. The judge summed up fairly enough, with, if anything, a slight leaning to- ward the accident theory. Great, therefore was the general surprise (in fact, that was the only real sensational incident in the trial) when, after an absence of more than an hour, the foreman announced that the jury had agreed to a verdict of “Guilty,” coupled with a strong re- commendation to mercy, in view of the great provocation received. All eyes were immediately turned towards the prisoner, who, after passing his hand several times over his forehead, as though half-dazed for the moment, gazed calmly and steadily at the judge. The latter was plainly taken aback, and rummaged his notes for some lit- tle time, with a distinct look of annoy- ance upon his face, “Very well, gentlemen of the jury,” he remarked; “the verdict is yours, not mine, Prisoner at the bar,” he contin- ued, “you have been found guilty of manslaughter, upon evidence which, 1 think, few juries would regard as con- vincing. You have, also, been strongly recommended to mercy, and, to that recommendation I deem it my duty to give full effect. The sentence I pass upon you is that you be detained in custody until the ing of the court.” And then, before the amazed spectat- ors had time to draw breath, he quiet- ly added: “The court stands ad- journed until to-morrow.” It was, perhaps, just as well the court was adjourned, for the cheers and laughter which ensued would se- y have interfered with any fur- ther gal business. Oscar was, of course, overwhelmed with congratula- tions. He received them with a sad, forced smile that almost irritated the warmest of his well-wishers, amongst whom were several of ill-fated Derek’s recent guests, who had attended as witnesses. “All’s well that ends well, old fel- low!” exclaimed Faucett, cheerily. “That judge is a regular brick!” But Oscar viewed things otherwise. He had been convicted of killing Der- ek. And the iron had entered his soul. CHAPTER VIII, Oscar Bows to Fate. Meanwhile the murder of Ashcroft had remained less a mystery, in the public estimation, than a very glaring instance of police incapacity. How came the absconding poacher, Luke Brann, upon whom such almost con- clusive testimony had fallen, to have escaped detection? One could understand a clever, intel- ligent criminal, well supplied with means of disguise and speedy flight abroad, eluding the keenest official vig- ilance—for, perhaps, a lengthy period. But a brutal, ignorant yokel, already a convict once, and, probably, almost penniless—pshaw! the idea was pre- posterou So it was, of course—on the face of it. There is nothing easier in the world than criticism, and nothing more unfair than criticism based upon ¢e- fective evidence. Unaided and penni- less, Brann would infallibly have been run down within a few days. But it did not suit Stephen Deane’s plans that tall events) and so he remained at la It would be interesting, were it pos- sible. to know how many criminals evade justice by the help of apparently law-abiding citizens, by a way of a set- off to the captures effected “owing to information received.” Perhaps the accounts about balance. Anyhow, Luke Brann still remained upon the debit side of the police ledger, thanks to the precautions taken by his astute patron. Sir Derek still retained his impassive attitude towards everybody and every- thing, but showed signs of improved physical vigor, which at once astom- ished and annoyed his trusty attend- ants, the Hirsts. He was no longer content to defy Fate from the suppss- edly-safe vantage ground of bed. He frequently insisted upon beind dressed, sometimes partially, sometimes in com- plete attire, and would hobble about the adjoining sitting room for half an hour at a stretch. Then he would be put to bed again, only, perhaps, to Pe- peat the dressing process a couple of hours later. This was troublesome enough during the daytime, but when he developed a taste for pedestrian exercise, at inter- yals, during the night, as well, the but- ler ventured to put in adpretty strong remonstrance. This aroused the ola baronet to great wrath and an unusu- ally long effort in the way of profane language, which caused Hirst to quake in his shoes. What if his crochety master should turn upon him after all these years of toady service? “Something’ll have to be done with | the old ’un,” he complained to Stephen, in bitterness of spirit, “or there'll be “more than one*of'us:sorry for it. He'll be wanting to come down stairs next, and then—” “Well, what, then?” queried Stephen, seeing that Hirst paused, as though at a loss for words to express what might be expected to follow. “Why, he'll precious soon find out the truth about everything, and won’t he be savage at being kept in the’dark all this time? It'll be a case of good- by to Deanshurst for me and you, sir, at very short notice; mark my words.” “Be good enough to leave me out in your forecasts,” said the lawyer, stiff- ly. “I can give my uncle excellent rea- sons for all that I have done and left undone. As for yourself, let me advise you to keep cool, obey my instructions, and refrain from irritating Sir Derek by thwarting his harmless whims.” “That's easily said,” grumbled Hirst, “but when it comes to dressin’ and un- dressin’ him whenever the fancy takes him, day or night, there ain’t no fun in it.” “Perhaps not,” returned Stephen, drily. “But you have practically noth- ing else to do—you and your wife— than to wait upon our master, and your own interests depend upon your doing so without angering him. This is just a passing whim, natural enough in a half-imbecile, very old man.” “Ah! That may be so, sir,” rejoined Hirst, finding comfort in this sugges- tion. “But if he takes it into his head to potter about the house, a-talkin’ with the servants, and so on—” “Keep them out of his way, and don’t let him out of your sight,” interrupted Stephen, impatiently. “Or tell him thore is typhoid amongst them and that he is safest in his own rooms. There! Don’t worry me any more. I have more serious matters to think about.” “Meaning the upshot of the Major’s trial, sir? Well, that was the judge’s doing, not my cousin Joe’s fault. ‘Fifty pound to one he gets off, Joe,’ says I, soon as ever I knew he was likely to be on the jury. ‘Done! says he. He told me afterward they were nearly all for an acquittal, till he talked them over. Anyhow, you can’t say but what he earned the money, Mr. Stephen.” The lawyer strode up to him and gripped him almost savagely by the arm. “See here, Hirst,’ he said, in low, threatening tones. “Your bab- bling tongue will be your ruin if you don’t keep it in check. I neither know nor want to know anything about your blackguard relatives; and I would ad- vise you to forget your stupid wager. Now, go!” “Cool ain't the word,” muttered Mr. Hirst, as he shrank off, half-scared by Stephen's menacing air. “He’d swear through a stack of Bibles, he knew nothin’ ’bout my squaring Joe, though he gave me the brass to do it with! The missus is right. He’s a deep ’un~ as deep as they make ’em. ’Cute id@, that, about the fever. I'll try it on the first time old Grumpy attempts to shove his nose into the corridor.” Oscar Deane had quitted Winchester for London the day after the trial, as nearly crushed in s) it as a high-prin- cipled gentleman, suffering under a sense of cruel wrong, well can be. And to his brother he had made no se- cret of his intentions as to the future. He would at once resign his commis- sion and start life afresh, in one or other of the colonies, under an as- sumed name. Now, this was a decision vastly to Stephen’s liking, capable, in- deed, of but one modification by way of improvement. I understand your feelings, old fel- low,” he remarked, with a well-feigned ring of sympathy in/iiis voice. “You feel sore over that iniquitous verdict. and want to get clear away for a time. Most men would, I think, like to do the same thing, under similar circum- stances. I know I should. But, can- didly, I don’t see much foree in your emigration scheme. You'd be moped to death in the bush or the backwoods, and that’s precisely what you ought to avoid.” “That's quite true,” assented Oscar; “and, for choice I’d rather have a crack at big game in Central Africa than grow wheat or breed sheep. But ‘beggars can’t be choosers.’ I shall have barely enough to start me in a very small way, and I have the future to provide for.” “Nonsense!” retorted Stephen. “As Sir Derek’s heir, you can raise ample for all reasonable expenses of living upon post-obits. You seem to ignore the facts that he is upwards of eighty years old, and that you come next in succession.” “Yes, owing to Derek’s death,” said Oscar, bitterly, “of which I have been convicted as the cause! I tell you, Stephen, that, until this cruel stain up- on my honor is removed, I shall profit nothing by that poor lad’s untimely death. To this end I have sworn be- fore God, and, with His help, I shall keep my oath!” Stephen stared at his brother as though doubting his own ears,( but there was that in the soldier’s face and tone which forbade all doubt as to his sincerity. Oscar resolved to renounce the succession! It seemed almost in- credible, but it was plainly, obviously irue; and a great load seemed lifted from the plotter’s scheming brain. No need now to compass his brother's death, even in thought. “I think you take a very extreme view of the matter,” he remarked, in his most impressive manner; “but of that you are yourself the best judge. Now, without unduly bringing myself forward, it seems to me that your de- cision, if carried into effect, will place me in a somewhat awkward position when the old baronet dies. According to your plan of action, Oscar Deane will’be, in common parlance, ‘dead to the world; but he will not be dead in fact. He will still be alive, dis- guised as Mr. Black of Ontario, or Mi. White of the Cape. And the question arises What is to become of the bar- onetcy and the estates?” “I have thought of that already,” re- plied Oscar, “and I have arrived at a conclusion which seems to meet the case. What becomes of the title I care nothing. Were it possible, I would re- nounce it in your favor; but that (as you know better than I) is a legal im- possibility. It must apparently remain dormant until my death—or my rehab- itation in the eyes of all men. But as regards whatever revenues may ac- company it, these I can ceratinly dis- pose of as I please, during my lifetime, at all events. And I shall leave you a full power of attorney authorizing you to receive them on my behalf and to expend them how you please—exactly | as though they were your own, in fact. You see, my dear Steph., I have no wish to make you share in my punish- ment, and most certainly I have no in- tention of playing the dog in the man- ger. There is no legal difficulty about it, is there?” “No,” continued Stephen, “none at all. But, of course, such a power would be valid only so long as you re- frained from revoking it.” “Yes, I suppose so.” “You may marry and have a son.” “Possibly,” assented Oscar, piqued at these cool comments upon his generous proposal. “I am under no vow of ce- libacy. And I have certainly no right to mortgage this suppositious son’s claims, whatever I may choose to do with my own.” “Of course not, my dear fellow,” said Stephen, with what he meant for a pleasant laugh. “As it is, you are sac- rificing far too much to a purely-senti- mental idea.” “That is my affair,’ rejoined Oscar; “and you benefit by it, at all events. Are you satisfied to give effect to my wishes?” “Certainly Iam. Why ever heard of a younger son refusing even the tem- porary enjoyment of £10,000 a year?” “Very well, then, we understand one another. Have the necessary deed pre- pared, and I’ll sign it. By the way, I forgot to stipulate for a clause settling one-fourth of the income upon our mother.” “As you please,” answered Stephen, biting his lips. “In any case, I should have provided for her” “No doubt you would. But I prefer she should be entirely independent; and should you pre-decease me, the trust is to devolve upon her, with reversion to your heirs or assigns. This, however, is a detail which my own solicitors will see to. Good-bye for the present Ste- phen. I shall see you in town xt week.” * * * * * * * Was the prospect offered by his brother’s Quixotic plans good enough to satisfy his cravings? Could this prospect be improved? These were the questions which now presented them- selves for solution. Oscar’s recovery had threatened to rob him of all that he had steeped him- self in crime to gain. His last hope had been for a conviction, followed by a sentence which, to a man of Oscar's supersensitive nature, would have meant insanity or death. But the judge had taken most of the sting out of the verdict, and Oscar was contenting him- self with voluntary exile instead of blowing his brains out or qualifying for a lunatic asylum. This exile would, at Sir Derek’s death, give him, as oa trustee, almost uncontrolled po over the estates. But it would not give him absolute ownership, it would not give him the title, it would not give him what he had risked his neck and black- ened his soul to gain. Nothing short of Oscar’s death could do this. Bad as he was, Stephen Deane re- coiled from the terrible promptings that urged him towards the crime of Cain. No! Not for twenty Deans- hursts would he be guilty of his broth. er’s blood. It was hard lines Oscar had survived. Perhaps he would yet make atonement by a speedy death abroad, or, failing this, he might never return to England. Meanwhile, Deans- hurst would mean a very large fortune to a clever lawyer armed with a full power-of-attorney- Human nature isa very complex puzzle. Stephen felt al most virtuous in the contemplation of his own moderation. CHAPTER IX, Clare Danvers. The Danvers were, unquestionably, big people: not quite so big, perhaps, as they thought themselves, but still persois of light and leading in Chelten- ham socice And Clare Danvers was the pride and joy of this distinguished family, as befitting a very charming yo ng liév of twenty, who was heir to £45,000 under thewill of a stockbrok- er uncle. She was, moreover, an only child, and, as her parents were very wealthy, it was generally suppose that nothing less than a coronet would sat- isfy her aimbition and theirs. Never- theless, Clare had gone through *!:e or- al of two London seasons since her presentation at court, and although it was pretty well known that at leist three noble suitors had wooed her, no are-unceient of her engagement Lad yet been mr de. “She’s standing out for an Enslish earl, at least,” sneered her rivals. “She'll be glad enough to secure an Irish viscount, by-and-by.” “There’s some detrimental in the background,” whispered their mammas over their tea-cups, “and she is just the girl to throw herself away if she fan- cied herself in love.” Now, the rivals were quite wrong. Clare was by no means insensible to the advantages of a title; what reason- able young woman, who has seen any- thing of social life, possibly can be? But she was utterly incapable of ang- ling for mere rank, and, as it had hap- pened, most of the titled bachelors who had come under her notice had little else to recommend them. She was an exceptionally clear-headed girl, and very soon realized that the West-End, during the season, was little else ex- cept a fashionable marriage market. She could enjoy to her full the cease- less rounds of pleasant pastimes pro- vided by Fashion for its yotaries. But ske was haunted by no dread that it might end in a loveless marriage; be- cause she, at all events, was not for sale, and was rich enough, in her own right, to set coercion at defiance The mammas, as usual, were nearer the truth. There was someone in the background, and, from their point of view, that “someone” might fairly be classed as a detrimental. He was merely a captain in a line regiment, with but very little beyond his pay to live upon, and with no better prospects than a very poor chance of succeeding to a baronetey. Clare first met him at a garden party, not long after her de- but, and a very warm mutual regard had quickly sprung up between them. (To Be Continued.) New Sea Serpent. “Did you hear Old Longbow’s latest story?” . : “Nope.” ; “Says he saw a hoop-snake with a rubber tire.”—Cleveland Plain Dealer. If IS A DISGRACE. PROLONGING THE WAR FOR BONDS AND PLUNDER. Ex-Gov. Altgeld Says That Cuba Could Have Been Freed Long Ago by the Taking of Havana—The President is Balked by the Money Power, The war is to be carried over into next winter. What for? Why should the. administration determine in ad- vance that it did not want to have Ha- vana taken and the war thus ended until next winter, even though it could be taken in less than a week and the war ended at once? Glance back a moment. Last win- ter when the people demanded that the government interfere in Cuba, the Opposition came from the bondhold- ing classes. Aside from the twenty hundred million dollars of Spanish bonds that would be affected by the war, there were six hundred million dollars of bonds issued by Spain and secured by the revenues of Cuba. These bonds would become worthless if the existing government of the in- surgents was recognized. Emissaries were sent to the insurgent leaders to see if they would accept peace on con- dition of recognizing or in some way securing these six hundred million of bonds. But the patriots replied that inasmuch as the independence of the island was being purchased with the blood of the Cuban people, they would not mortgage the future of their chil- dren for the benefit of these bond- holders. A noble answer. But when this answer was heard a fierce cry went up at Washington against recognizing the existing gov- ernment of the insurgents. As the country pressed for action, the corrup- tionists who worked in the interest of these bonds began to shout: “You may interfere, but you must not recognize the present government of the in- surgents.” This was the policy the administra- tion adopted. The holders of these worthless bonds needed time in which to create a new government in Cuba with which they could have an under- standing that, under one pretext or an- other, worthless claims to the extent of hundreds of millions would be made a debt of Cuba. To take Havana at once and end the war would spoil this scheme, therefore the war must be protracted until] next winter, though it cost thousands of lives and millions of treasure. 2. There is a horde of men who, through contracts and various schemes in and out of congress, are making vast fortunes out of this war. They are op- posed to bringing it to a close. Asa rule they belong to the class that helped to raise the vast corruption fund to debauch elections. Consequently they are influential with the powers that be. 3. The people who made the Mc- Kinley administration, hunger and thirst for government bonds. These are always a source of great profit. They want the war prolonged in order that more bonds may be issued. 4. The Republican senate of Ohio has sent a memorial to the senate of the United States, charging that Mark Hanna had secured his election to the latter body by bribery and corruption, and it asks that he be unseated as being unfit to represent the state of Ohio. The war diverts attention from these facts, and besides enables Hanna to secure appointments for so many rich men’s sons and so many politicians, and to curry favor with so many pow- erful influences, that in the end he can have the charges smothered up. He does not want this war to end. The glorious achievements of Dewey were won because he was free from Wash- ington’s influence. 5. There are slippery politicians sur- rounding the administration who as- sure it, if the war is protracted, they can easily carry the fall elections; that in a war people will vote with the government. These men care nothing for the vast expense and great loss of life which are involved. They are ready to lower the high purpose of this war to the low plane of a political trick. But they are liable to have a rude awakening. Every time a mother sheds a tear over her absent boy, every time a father thinks of his son who is unnecessarily kept away, there will grow a want of confidence in both the capacity and sincerity of the Mc- Kinley administration, and every time a newmade grave is filled with a sol- dier boy there will be erected a stand- ing protest against a policy that was criminal in its inception and is dam- nable in its operations. If the admin- istration persists in purposely protract- ing this war for the benefit of corrup- tionists and political hyenas, then the frosts of November will be loaded with surprises.—John P. Altgeld in Demo- cratic Magazine. Dingley Law a Failure. The amount of revenue received by the general government during the month of June is stated at $33,500,000 and for the fiscal year just closed at $304,500,000, The receipts for June were about $3,000,000 less than for the same month last year. The total for the year is about $41,000,000 less than for last year and nearly $23,000,000 less than for the year before. The customs revenue was about $14,- 500,000 last month, or about $7,000,000 less than in June last year. For the year the revenue’from this source was less than $100,000,000, or less than in any fiscal year since the close of the civil war. “The receipts were comparatively: small last year, partly on account: of large importations before the begin- ning of the year in anticipation of in-' creased duties. But, making due al- lowance for that, the Dingley law as a revenue getter must be pronounced a failure. The effect of anticipatory importa- tions must have been exhausted much before June, and in that month the law must have produced all the revenue of which it is capable. It produced, as above stated, only $14,500,000, or at the rate of $170,000,000 a year. This is $6,500,000 less than was produced aby the law of 1894 during its last year. During the five years before the passage of the McKinley law the cus- toms receipts averaged $18,500,000 a month, or $4,000,000 more than the re- ceipts of last month. There was some increase in internal revenue under the Dingley law, but the total receipts in- dicate that there would have been & large deficit during the fiscal year on which we have just entered if there had been no war. The war has given our Republican statesmen an opportunity to impose More taxes without openly admitting that it would have been necessary to increase them if there had been no war, as it certainly would. Appropriations for ordinary purposes, including those for the army and navy on a peace foot- ing, promised to be at the rate of more than $500,000,000 a year, while the Dingley taxes promised to produce no More than $405,000,000 at the most.— Chicago Chronicle. Uncle Ike on Imperialism. Yes, I like your idee, parson, that the war should be humane; That it is a war for freedom, not a greedy strife for gain; But your salary’s in danger if you preach much more of that, For it don’t suit Banker Thompson, judgin’ from a little chat ' Which I overheard last Sunday, when he said to Deacon Duff That he wasn’t goin’ to pay for much more of such pious stuff; And that preachers should be careful and should ponder what they say, not injure business int’rests if they want to get their pay.” And And he said, “Them lovely islands, most as large as all Japan, Are a very land of promise to the keen-eyed business man; For the soil is so productive, though so little used as yet, If their power was developed, they could stand a monstrous debt. “And the country here is mortgaged just about all it will stand, So to use our idle money we must somehow get more land; And the chance to get franchises there is better now than here, For the people here are cranky and such things are gettin’ dear. “Then, we need a standin’ army such - as all great nations boast, So whenever labor troublesshow them- selves like Banquo’s ghost, We may readily subdue them and put down the hostile crew, And protect our vested int’rests just as all great nations do. “But our people are such Quakers and so much opposed to war, If we have a larger army, we must show some reason for Our departure from old doctrines and our nation’s ancient creed, And the holdin’ of them islands is the very thing we need.” Parson, them remarks of Thompson makes old Uncle Ike more set In his views that war for conquest is a scheme of “Plutes” to get Our old Uncle Sam committed to the European plan; Then good-bye to all republics and the liberties of man. —George McA. Miller, in Democratic Magazine. Silent. Mr. Nelson Dingley, author of “a bill to produce revenue,” has been up in Maine accepting a renomination and of course he has made some _ speeches, But, singular to say, Mr. Dingley had not a word to say respecting his mas- terpiece. He made a few discursive re- marks respecting the war, but the bur- den of his oration was an appeal to the people to “give. new emphasis to the financial issue” in the congressional elections and in the presidential bat- tle two years ahead. Of course it may be modesty which impels Mr. Dingley to ignore his crowning achievement. Then, again, the fact that the receipts under the Dingley law continue to fall further and further below the original estimates may have something to do with it. In any event, we may be per- fectly sure that, like its predecessor, the Dingley bill will hereafter have to “do its own talking.” Its sponsors and fuglemen agree with the small boy who, under certain embarrassing cir- cumstances, enunciated the opinion that “the less said about it the better,” A Well-Olled Political Machine. . Indianapolis Sentinel: It took the Ohio Republican convention just nine minutes to nominate its ticket. There were five nominees—for secretary gof state, for supreme judge, for clerk of the supreme court, for food and dairy commissioner and for commissioner of the board of public works. Nine min- utes! Evidently somebody touched the button, and the machine did the rest. And Ohio is supposed to have a sys- tem of popular government. The Heavens Rule. This war is a war between the Latin and Anglo-Saxon races as to who shall dictate in North America, the. former or the latter, The’ heavens do rule— Rev. W. W. Murkland. i |