Omaha Daily Bee Newspaper, January 20, 1895, Page 13

| | ) % i 5 | THE OMAHA DAILY BEE: SUNDAY, JANUARY 20, 1895 ing, but none the less firmness, “and 1 11 BUSINESS LIFE 1IN COREA The Stores and Shops of the Queerest Cap- ital in the World, TIRED TRADERS SQUATTED ON THE FLOOR The Merchants' Union and Corean Trusts— anrs, Hookstores and Free Lunch Counters—One of the King's Perqul (Copyrighted, 185, by Frank G. Carpenter.) Ths city of Seoul is now filled with Japa- feso troops, and Japanese merchants are pre- paring to open stores and go into business. The wkole country is to be reorganized on a modern basis. Other merchants will soon come in, and the business mothods of the Coreans will be changed. They are the queer- est business men of the world, and their #hops and stores are like nothing else on the face of the globe. I spent many days in golng through them last summer, and In chiatting with the merchants. They are the gaudiest merchants on the planet. They keep thielr horsehalr hats on when in their stores, and instead of standing up behind the coun- ters, they squat cross-legged on the floor and smoke long pipes while they talk to you about trade and offer you goods. Often they squat outside their stores, and both stores and mer- chants are so unlike anything in America that it is hard to describe them. The stores are located on the three main business strects of the city. Thess are dirt roads about as wide as Pennsylvania avenus in Washington. They are lined with mud huts thatched with straw, to the front of which there is often a framework or booth-like awning, which juts out over the street, and in which, on boards, are spread out the goods they have for sale. Here and there little tents have been built up in the streets, and there are hundreds of big-hatted, white-gowned squatters, who have planked themselves down on the road, with their goods spread out before them, and who soberly smoke as they walt for their custom- ers. There are hundreds of boys who part their hair in the middls, and who look like girls in their long gowns, going about ped- dling candy and chestnuts. They have a kind of a box which is swung from their shoulders, and which rests on their chests, and the candy peddlers carry scissors and cut of their long strings of taffy into such sticks as you want. These boys yell out that they have taffy for sale. They are shrewd little fellows, and they ply their business in all parts of the city. THE COREAN BAZAARS. Seoul is, you know, a city of 300,000 people, and it covers about threc square miles. Right in the center of the city there is a point where the three business streets come to- gether, and at this point there is a temple about as big as a good-siz=d cow shed, which holds the great bell, or town clock, of the capital. This bell rings the opening and clos- ing of the Corean day, and its knell sounds the beginning and ending of the day's work and business. It is rung just at dusk, and at this time the great gates of the city are closed. The stores are supposed to shut up, and the men to go into their houses and give the women a chance to take moonlight walks unmolested. About this bell are the biggest business establishments of Seoul. They are In large one and two-story bulld- ings, which look a good deal like grana- ries and which are cut up Into Iit- tle bits of closets opening out upon halls. Each of these buildings is devoted to the selling of one kind of goods, and the leading merchants who deal in them have each one of these closets, and they squat on cuashions just outside of them, ready to bring out their goods when the customers come. Glass is hardly known in Corea, and there are no windows, and the closet is as dark as a pocket. There is no display of goods, and you ask for what you want and the merchant brings it out. One of the buildings will have nothing but cottons, and there may be fifty merchants each owning one of the closet-like stores within it. Another building will con- tain nothing but silk, and others will be de- voted to the selling of hats and paper. The merchants of different classes have guilds, and they fix the prices. Every yard of silk and every sheat of paper sold in Seoul has to pass through the guild and pay its taxes be- fore it can be sold. There are six great guilds, and each of these guilds pays a good round sum to the government for the con- trolling of its branch of trade. If a retall dealer is found with a plece of goods which does not bear the stamp of the guild the guild can fine and punish him without ref- ference to any other tribunal, and all of the petty traders throughout Seoul have to buy through the guilds. The six greatest guilds are those which control the trade in Chinese silk, cotton goods, hemp cloth, grass cloth, Corcan silk and paper, and it will be sur- prising to know that the whole of Corea Is divided up into unions, and that the porters have their trades unions, and there are ped- dlers’ unions and all sorts of working organ- 1zations. A LOOK INTO A COREAN STORE. The average Corean store is not much big- ger than a dry goods box, and about this great bell there are courts surrounded by such stores, which open out on a ledge or porch about three feet wide, upon which the mer- chants sit. A merchant could hardly turn around in one of these stores, and If you would take a plano .packing box. and line it with shelyes and run a board along in front of it about two feet from the ground, you would have a Corean store. The chief Dusiness is in cloth, as the Coreans probably spend more on clothes In proportion to their incomo than any other people in the world, and the cotton trade is a big one. The com- mon people all wear cotton, and I was told that they like the American goods much bet- ter than the English, for the reason that they are better made, and that they are of finer material. The Corean silk is fairly good, and they use a good deal of Chinese silk, I re- member one fur store which I visited. It ‘was not more than five fest square, but it ‘was full of costly fur garments, which the richer of these people wear in the winter, Among the curious articles which it had for sale were frameworks of wicker, which these people wear during the summer inside their garments to keep them away from thelr per- sons and allow a thorough circulation of alr. Th were wicker shirts and wicker cuffs and wicker frames which fit out over the stomach, all so light that the weight of them d1pm) up aup sv puv ejqndedsedwy 9q pmos workmanship as a Panama hat. BIGGEST BOOK STORE IN SEOUL. I spent some time In going among the book stores and picture shops, and 1 found the merchants by no means anxious to sgll, especlally when I had General Pak, my in- terpreter, with me. I was warned to pay for everything on the spot, and 1 found that the nobility of Seoul and the high officials, ‘with whom I was supposed to be connected, had a habit of taking what they pleased and never coming back to pay for it. I really believe this was the way they looked on me untll 1 offered them the money. They al- ‘ways asked three times as much as they ex. pected to take, and everything is done by dickering. I bought for about 60 cents a book which was first offered to me for $3, and this was at the biggest book store in Seoul. ‘The books are all laid flat on the fioor. They have flexible backs, and are more like maga- zines than books. Many of them look like blank books and account books until you open them, and you find them filled with Chinese or Corean characters. The merchant koeps his accounts with a paint brush, the clerks keep thelr hats on, and the average clerk is satisfied If he receives his elothes and food for his family and himself. 1 bought a Corean first reader, and later on I visited a Corean printing establishment. There were no movable types, and the pages which were to be printed were engraved on boards. The printer laid one of these boards down on two hlocks of wood, then mixed some lampblack and water on a flat plece of marble and smeared this over the page. He then laid a proof sheet on it and pounded it down into the engraved type, and this con- stituted the printing. ONE OF THE KING'S PERQUISITES. The king gets a big income out of Corcan paper. It Is all made by hand, and it brings bout & cents a sheet, cach sheet contalning about as much paper, T judge, ay cight pages of this uewspaper. 1 went through a paper factory, which is just outside of Seoul, along tho banks of a stream. Some paper is made Of bark reduced to pulp, and all the old paper of a mush, and when it Is all in bits a bam- boo frame fs thrust into the mush, and that which sticks to the frame makes a sheet of paper. It Is bleached in the sun, and 1s as strong as cloth, Now, the king gets his per- centage out of the first sale, and he makes a great deal of money out of his examination papers. ~ All offices are supposed to be awarded by civil service examinations, and at certain times of the year the students, by the thousands, come from all parts of the country, each carrying two or three of these sheets of paper. They are admitted into one part of the palace grounds, and there squat down under umbrellas which they bring with them, and write essays In poetry. They have to wear a certaln kind of a cap, known as a scholar's cap, at this time, and each ossay covers a sheet of this paper. It must have just so many verses and just so many lines to each verse, and the students don't know what they are going to write about until they get inside the grounds. The subject is hoisted up on a pole just outside of a pen in which the king and the judges sit. After the writing Is through each student folds up his essay in a peculiar way and throws it over the fence of the pen. It Is carrled up to the king and is spread out on top of a pile of papers which grows to large proportions be- fore the examination is through, Only a few pass at these examinations, and the rejected papers are all sold by the king or by his officials, and there are hundreds of houses in Seoul which are carpeted with these old ex- amination papers. I wore a rain-coat made of ofled paper which had been originally used by a Corean student for one of these essays, and I trotted about through the streets with a lot of Confucian doggerel on my back. The paper stores are found In_ different parts of the capital, and they do a big business. This paper takes the place of glass, and it forms the window coverings of Corea. THE SHOE STORES. Ono of the largest of the guild halls ahout the great bell is devoted to the selling of shoes. These are of many varieties, and some are quite expensive. Those for the la- dles are made of pink, blue and red leather, while the men usually wear black slippers with soles of white wood abut an inch thick. The common people wear straw shoes, and these are made by the bushel, and are car- ried by porters all over the country. I tnok a picture of one with about 500 pairs on a pack on his back, and I saw peddlers squat- ting down on the road here and there with these shoes before them. They cost about 1 cent per pair, and are the cheapest art of clothing in Corea. Most things are ex- travagantly dear. General Pak showed me hats which cost $15 aplece, and he bought a new gown in order that he might go about with me in style which cost him $10. FREE LUNCH COUNTERS. Think of free lunch counters in Corea! Well, they have them in all parts of the country, and there is many a dirty little den in Seoul outside of which a clay oven Is con- tinually ccoking free €oup, and where you can get a bit of dried fish or a raw turnip without charge between drinks. The Coreans are less temperate than the Chinese, and I think, also, than the Japanese. They like intoxicating liquors, and I met many recling through the strects, and now and then saw one asleep by the roadside, dressed in his long white gown and looking for all the world like a corpse In a shroud. I saw a number of flghts and General Greathouse— rather too delightedly, I thought—once said to me: ““Why, these people are just like our peo- ple at home. They drink and they fight and they go upon sprees. They have many other things in common with us, and they are de- cidedly human.” Thero are many saloons, and the sign of these i a basket which is hung on a pole above the door and which is cf the kind through which the beer and other liquors are strained when they are made. This basket is usually about eighteen inches long and elght inches in diameter, and you see them all over Corea. THE DRUG STORES. The drug stores do not eell liquors, and they haye very few flulds of any kind. Their medicines consist of powders and herbs, &nd patent medicines are as yet unknown In Corea. I believe a great big business could be done in both Corea and China by taking patent medicines out there and advertising them as wonderful cure-alls, using the *be- fore and after taking” signs, especially. The fleld is a virgin one, and it ought to be worked. T went into one drug store in Seoul which was walled with cabinets containing drawers about six inches square filled with all kinds of nauseous herbs. There were bags of medicine hanging from the roof, and the druggist was squatting on the floor with his hat on, making more medicine. Both the Chinese and the Coreans believe In big doses. They don't think a powder is worth anything unless it is big enough for a horse, and their great cure-all s ginseng. This we consider a weed in America, but it Is one of the most valuable products of Corea, and the king has the moncpoly of it. He has great farms which are watched at night by men who sit on platforms which have been built up in them to keep the people from stealing the crop, The roots are shipped off to China, where the king has his own officials to watch the sale and see that he gets his share of the profits. It is, in short, worth almost its welght in gold. Some of this herb is shipped from America to China, but Is not considered as good as the Corean ginseng. The weed is used as a tonic, and it Is believed to have wonderful strengthening properties. THE CABINET SHOPS. The Corcans do some very good cabinet work, and about the only things you can buy ifi the country which are worth carrying away are brass cooking utensils and bu- reaus. Tho brass is wonderfully fine. It shines like gold, and Is made in little foun- dries, which look more like blacksmith shops than brass works, Everything is done by hand. The bureaus are all trimmed with brass, and the funniest article of household furniture is the Corean cash box. Every man has his own bank of this kind, It is often bound with brass, and it is made of oak wood about two Inches thick, and the lock to it weighs several pounds. The money is kept in this box, and is carried about on the backs of coolies or by servants, when a man goes shopping, and in the winter it Is taken and put into the Corean safe de- posits, THE COREAN SAFE DEPOSIT. The Coreans have perhaps the best safe deposit system in the world, but it is one that works only during the winter. Al their money is in the shape of Corean cash which is made in colns of copper and brass about as big as an old-fashioned red cent, with a square hole In the center. It takes 600 coins, or 3,000 cash, to make an Ameri- can dollar, and about $20 is a good load for a man, and $10 would break down a bullock. During the summer the Corean capitalist lends out his money for 5 per cent and up- ward a month, very- Judiclously placing it. In the winter, however, there is liable to be cold and famine, and it might be stolen, or his debtor might not be able to pay, so, as the coid weather approaches, he draws in his cash and puts it into his safe deposit vault until spring, - Every Corean has his own vault. It is usually his front yard, which is walled off from the street. He has his servant dig up this to a depth of about elght feet and then the first cold, frosty the hole and covers it with a coating of earth. He has water thrown upon this, so that the cash is embedded in mud, and it is watched until Jack Frost freezes it tight. The next night there fs another layer of cash and a second coating of mud. This is frozen and so It goes until there is a solid frozen mass of cash and mud, lying two or three feet below the surface of the ground. On the top of this the ground 1s also frozen and the winter is such that the merchant can sleep without fear until spring, Gkl A, Canuotes e — 4 WINTER THOUGHT. R. K. Munkittrick, in Harper's Weekly, Old winter is a surly soul, Gaunt, haggard, grim, and gray; His trumpet blast Iwen‘!u from the knoll All that Is green and gay. But isn't he a poet still, Of sweet and fentle art, Who feels a kind and genfle thrill Of sunshine in his heart. Vihen he depicts in dreams wind-tost he fowers of sun ‘s train In arabesques of sparking frost Upon the window pane? The coming summer boupet is to bp | smali, flat aftair, worn well back on (he head, similar to the extreme evening bonnet | occasionally seea at the theater, night he spreads out a layer of this cash in | CLARENCE By Bret Harte. ' Author of “The Luck of Roaring Camp,” of Sandy War," Ete. 1804, by (Copyright, PART I1T. CHAPETR I11.—-CONCLUSION, Although Brant was convinced as soon as ho left the house that he could not accept anything from the Boompointer influence, and that his Interview with Susy was fruit- less, he knew that he must temporize. While he did not believe that his playmate would willingly betray him, he was uneasy when he thought of the vanity and impulsiveness which might compromise him—or of a pos- sible jealousy that might seek revenge. Yet he had no reason to believe that Susy's na- ture was jealous, or that she was likely to have any cause, but the fact was that the climax of Miss Faulkner's reappearance when they were together affected him more strongly than the real climax of his inter- view with Susy—which was her offer. Once out of the atmosphere of that house. it struck him, too, that Miss Faulkner was almost as much of an alien to It as himself. He won- dered what she had been doing there. Could it be possible that she was obtaining in- formaticn for the south? But he rejected the idea as quickly as it had occurred to him. Perhaps there could be no stronger preof of the unconscious influence the young girl already had over him. He remembered the liveries of the diplo- matic carriage that had borne her away, and ascertained without difficulty that her sister had married one of the forelgn wministers, and that she was a guest in his house, But he was the more astonished to hear that she and her sister were considered to be southern unionists, and were greatly petted {a governmental circles for their sac- rificing fidelity to the flag. His informant, an official in the State department, added that Miss Mathilda might have been a good dea! of a madcap at the outbreak of the war, for the sisters had a brother in the confederate service, but that she had changed greatly, and indeed within a month. “For,” he added, ‘“‘she was at the white house for the first time last week, and they say the president talked more to her than to any other woman." The indeseribable sensation with which this simple information filled Brant startled him more than the news itself. Hope, joy, fear, distrust and despair alternately thrilled him. He recalled Miss Faulkner's almost agonizing glance of appeal to him in the drawing room at Susy's, and it seemd to be equally con- sistent’ with the truth of what he had just heard, or some monstrous treachery and de- ceit of which she might be capable. Even now she might be a secret emissary of some v within the president's family; she might e been in correspondence with some trai- tor in the Boompolinter clique, and her implor- ing glance only the result of a fear of ex- posure. ~ Or, again, she might have truly recanted after her escapade at Gray Oaks, and feared only his recollection of her as the go-between of spies. And yet both of these presumptions were inconsistent with her conduct in the conservatory. It seemed im- possible that this impulsive woman, capable of doing what he had himself known her to do, and equally sensitive to the shame or joy of such impulses, should be the same heartless woman of society who had so coldly recog- nized and parted from him. But this interval of doubt was transitory. The next day he recelved a dispatch from the War department ordering him to report himself for duty at once. With a beating heart he hurried to the secretary. But that official had merely left a memorandum with his assistant, directing General Brant to ac- company some fresh levies to a camp of oc- cupation near the front for ‘“organization.” Brant felt a chill of disappointment. Duties of this kind had been left to dublous regular army veterans, hurriedly displaced general officers, and favored detrimentals. But if it was not restoration, it was no longer inaction, and it was at least a release from Washing- ton, It wi also, evidently the result of some influence, but hardly that of the Boom- pointers, for he knew that Susy wished to keep him at the capital. Was there ancther power at work to send him away from Wash- ington? His previous suspicions returned. Nor were they dissipated when the chief of the bureau placed a letter before him with the remark that it had been intrusted to him by a lady, with the request that it should be delivered only into his own hands. *She did not know your hotel address, but ascer- tained you were to call here. She sald it was of importance. There is no mystery about it, General,” continued the official, with a mischievous glance at Brant's han some, perplexed face, “although it's from a very pretty woman—whom we all know."” *‘Mrs. Boompointer?" suggested Brant, with affected lighteness. The official’'s It was a maladroit speech. face darkened. ““We have not yet beo'me a postal department for the Boompointers, General,” “he sald, dryly, “however great their influence elsewhere., It was from a rather different style of woman—Miss Faulk- ner. You will receive your papers later at your hotel and leave tonigh Brant's unlucky slip was still potent enough to divert the official attention, cr he would have noticed the change in his vi itor's face and the abruptness of his de- parture, Once in the street, Brant tcre off the en- velope. But beneath it was another, on which was written in a delicate, refined hand: ““Please do not open this until you reach your destination.” Then she knew he was going! was her influence! All his suspiclons again returned. She knew he was golng near the lines, and his very appointment, through her influence, might be a plot to serve her and the cnemy. Was this letter which she was intrusting to him the cover of a missive to her southern friends, which she expected And this IN THE CONSERVATORY. bim to carry as a return for her own act of self-sacrifice? Was this the appeal she bad been making to his chivalry, his grati- tude, his honor? The perspiration stood in beads on his forehead. What defect lay hidden in his nature that seemed to mako him an easy victim of these Intriguing women? He had not even the excuse of gallantry. Less susceptible to the potencles of the sex than' most men, be was still com- pelled to bear that reputation. He remem- bered his coldness to Miss Faulkner in the first days of thelr meeting and her effect upon his subalterns. Why had she selected bim from among them, when she could have modeled the others like wax to her purposes? Why? And yet with the question came a possible answer that he hardly dared to think of; that in its very vagueness seemed to Al hiwm with a stimulating thrill and hopefulness. He quickened his pace. He would take the letter, and yet be master of himself when the timé came to open it. That time came three days later, in his tent on Three Pine crossing. As ho broke open the envelope he was relieved to find that it contained no other enclosure, and seemed intended only for himself. It began abruptly: “When you read this you will understand Two Mbi the Author) why T did not speak to 'fou when we met last night; why, 1 even dreaded that you might speak to me, knowing what 1 ought to tell you, even at such a place and mo- ment-—something that ¢6u’ could hear from me alone. 1 did not knowt you were in Wash- ington, although I knew you were relleved; I had no other way of secing you or sending to you before, and I bnly came to Mrs. Boompointer's party in the hope of hearing news of you. ““You know that miy brother was captured by your pickets, in company with another officer. He thinks that you suspected the truth, that he and his friend were hovering near your lines to effect the escape of the spy. But he says that although they failed to help her she did escape, or was passed through the lines by your connivance. He says that you seemed to know her; that from what Rose, the mulatto woman, told him, you and she were evidently old friends. I would not speak of this nor intrude upon your private affairs, only that I think you ought to know that I had no knowledgs of it when I was in your house, but believed her to be a stranger to you. You gave me no intimation that you knew her, and I be- lleved that you were frank with me. But I should not speak of this at all, for I believe that it would have made no difference to me in repairing the wrong that I thought I had done you; cnly that as I am forced by circumstances to tell you the terrible end- ing_of this story, you ought to know it all. “My brother wrote to me that the evening after you left the burying party picked up the body of what they believed to be a mu- latto woman lying on the slope. It was not Rose, but the body of that very woman—the real and only spy—whom you had passed through the lines at daybreak. My brother thinks she was accidentally killsd in the first attack upon you by her own friends, and eo fell a double martyr. But only my brother and his friend recognized her through her blackened face and disguise, and on the plea that she was a servant of one of thelr friends, they got permission from the divi- sicn commander to take her away, and she was buried by her friends and among her people in the little cemetery of Three Plnes Crossing, not far from where you have gone. My brother thought that I ought to tell you this; it seems ‘ that he should Imagine it was not the duty of a soldier to question them, which T fancy a ‘elaim’ or a ‘case’ would fmply." He had no idea of taking this attitude be- fore, but the disappointments of the past month, added to this first official notice ot his disgrace, had brought forward again that dogged, reckless, yet half scornful, determina- tlon that was part of his nature. The official smiled. “I suppose, then, you are walting to hear from the president,” he said, dryly. “I am waiting orders from the depart- ment,” returned Brant, quietly, ‘“but whether they originate in the president or commander-in-chief or not, it does not seem for me to inquire.’” Even when he reached his hotel this half- savage indifference which had taken the plage of his former incertituds had not changed It seemed to him that he had reached the crists of his life when he was no longer responsible, but could wait superior alike to effort or expectation. And it was with a merely dispassionate curiosity that he found a note the next morning informing him that the president would see him early that day. A few hours later he was ushered through the public rooms of the white house to a more secluded spot of the household. The messengor stopped before a modest door and knocked. Tt was opened by a tall figure, the president himself. He reached out a long arm to Brant, who stood hesitatingly on the threshold, grasped his hand, and led him into the room. It had a single large, elaborately draped window and a magnificent medallioned carpet, which contrasted with the otherwise almost appalling simplicity of the furniture. A single plain, angular desk with a blotting pad and a few sheets of large foolscap paper upon it, a waste paper basket, and four plain armchairs completed the interior, with a contrast as simple and homely as its long-limbed, black-coated occus pant. Releasing the hand of the general to shut the door which opened into another apartment, the president shoved an armchair toward Brant and sank somewhat wearily into another before the desk. But only for a moment; the long, shambling limbs did not seem to adjust themselves ecasily to the chair; the high, narrow shoulders drooped to find a more comfortable lounging attitude, shifting from side to side, and the long legs moved dispersedly. Yet the face that was turned toward Brant was humorous and tranquil. “I was told T should have to send for you it T wished to see you,” he said smilingly. Already mollified, and perhaps again falling under the previous influences of this singular man, Brant began somewhat hesitatingly to explain, “You don’t understand. Tt was something new to my experience here to find an able- bodied American citizen with a genuine, liealthy grievance who had to have it drawn and his friend had a strange from him like a decayed tooth. But you have AND HE WENT AWAY. e sympathy for you in)what they appear to know or guess of your, rejations with. that woman, and, I think he was touched by what he thought was your kifidness dnd ‘chivalry to him on account of his sister. But I do not think he ever knew, or will know, hunl great is the task that he has imposed upon me. You know now, do you not, why I did not speak to you when we first met. It seemed so impossible to do it in an atmos- phere and a festivity that was so incon- gruous to the dreadful message I was charged with. And when I had to meet you later— perhaps 1 may have wronged you—but it secmed to me that you were 5o preoccupled and interested with other things that I might perhaps only be wearying you with something you cared little for, or perhaps already knew and had quickly forgotten. “I had been wanting to say something else to you when I had got rid of my dreadful message. I do not know if you still care to hear It; but you were once generous enough to think that I had done you a service in bringing a letter to your commander. Al- though I know better than any one else the genuine devotion to your duty that made you accept my poor service, from all that I can hear you have mever had the credit of it. Will you not try me again? I am in more fayor here, and T might yet be more success- tul in showing your superiors how true you have been to'your trust, even if you have lit- tle faith in your friend, Matilda Faulkner.” For a long time he remained motionless with the letter in his hand, then arose, or- dered his horse, and galloped away. There was little dificulty in finding the cemetery of Three Pines Crossing—a hillside slope, hearsed with pine and cypress, and starred with white crosses, that in the dis- tence looked like flowers, Still less was there in finding the newer marble shaft among the older lichen spotted slabs, which bore the simple words: “Alice Benham, Martyr.” A few confederate soldiers, under still plainer and newer wooden headstones, carved only with initlals, lay at her feet Brant sank on his knees beside the grave, but he was tarilled to see that the base of the marble was stained with the red pollen of the fateful lily, whose blossoms had been heaped upon her mound, but whose fallen pedals Igy dark and sodden in decay. How long he remained there he did not know. And then a solitary bugle from the camp seemed to summon him as it had once summoned him before—and he went away —as he had gone once before—to a separa- tion that he now knew was for all time. Then followed a month of superintendence and drill, and the infusing Into the little camp under his instructions the spirit which seemed to be passing out of his own life forever. Shut in by alien hills on the border, land of the great struggle, from time to time reports reached him of ‘the bitter fighting and almost disastrous successes of his old division commander. Opders _came _trom Washington to hurry' ‘thé preparation of his raw levies for the fledd, and a faint hope sprang up in his mind. But following it came another dispatcl ordering his return to the capital. 19! He reached it with meither hope nor fear, 0 benumbed had becoraghis spirit under his last trial, and what seemed to be now the mockery of his last ‘#derifice to his wife. Though It was no longerih question of her life and safety, he knpw.{hat he could il preserve her memory from atain by Keeping her secret, even though' 18 divulgence might clear his own, For that:raason he had even hesitated to inform Spsy of her death, in the fear that in her Fuqumlm irrespon. bility and impulsiveriels she might be tempted to use it in his favor. He had made his late appointment 3 gleg for withholding any. present efforts to agsist him. He even avoided the Boompointéhh' house, In what he believed was partlya guty to the memory of his wife. But he saw no inconsistencies in occasionally extending his lonely walks to the vicinity of a forelgn legation, or in being lifted with a cercain expectation at the sight of its liveries on the avenue. There was a craving for sympathy in his heart, which Miss Faulkner's letter had awakened. Meantime he had reported himself for duty at the War department, with little hope, however, in that formality. But he was sur- prised the next day when the chief of -the bureau informed him that his claim was be fore the president. “'I was not aware that I had presented any claim,” he said, a little: haughtily. The bureau chief looked up with some sur- prise. This quiet, patient, reserved man had once or twice puzzled him before. “Perhaps I should say ‘case,’ general” he sald, dryly “But the personal interest of the highest executive in the land strikes me as belng desirable in anything." “1 only mean that I have obeyed the orders of the department In reporting myself here, now and before,” sald Brant, with less fee been' here' before. face." Brant’s reserve had gone. He admitted that he had twice sought an audience—but— “You dodged the dentist! That was wrong.” As Brant made a slight movement of deprecation the president continued. *I understand; not from the fear of giving pain to yourself, but to others. I don’t know that that is right, either. A certain amount of pain must be suffered in this world, even by one's enemies. Well, I have looked into your case, General Brant.” He took up a plece of paper from his desk, scrawled with two or three notes in pencil. “I think this is the way it stands. You were commanding a position at Gray Oaks, when information was recelved by the department that either through neglect or complicity spies were passing through your lines. There was no attempt to prove your neglect; your orders, the facts of your personal care and precau- tion, were all before the department; but it was also shown that your wife, from whom you were only temporarily separated, was a notorlous secessionist; that before the war you yourself werd suspected, and that therefore you were qujte capable of evading your own orders, which you may have only given as a blind. On this infor- mation you were relleved by the department of your command. Later on it was discoy- ered that the spy was none other than your own wife, disguised as a mulatto; that after her arrest by your own soldiers you con- nived at her escape—and this was considered conclusive proof of, well, let us say, your treachery. : “But T did not know it was my wife uniil she was arrested,” said Bran{ impulsively. The president knitted his eyebrows humor- ously. “Don't let us travel cut of the record, general. You're as bad as the department. The question was one of your personal treachery, but you need not accept the fact that you weTe justly removed because your wife was a spy. Now, general, I am an old lawyer, and I don’t mind telling you that in Illinols we wouldn’t hang a yeliow dog on that evidence before the department. But when I was asked to look into the matter by your friends I discovered something of more importance to you. I had been trying to find a scrap of evidence that would justify the presumption that you had sent informa- tion to the enemy. I found that it was based upon the fact of the enemy being in posses- sion of facts at the first battle of Gray Oaks which could only have been obtained from our side, and which led to the federal dis- aster; that you, however, retrieved by your gallantry. I asked the secretary if he was prepared to show that you had sent the in- formration with that view, or that you had been overtaken by a tardy sense of repent- ance. - He preferred to consider my sug- gestlon as humorous. But the Inquiry led to my further discovery that the only treason- able correspondence ‘actually in evidence was found upon the body of a trusted federal officer, and had been forwarded to the di- vision commander. But there was no writ- ten record of it in the case.” “wlny, 1 forwarded it mysel rly. 0 the division commander writes,” sald the president smiling, “‘and he forwarded it to the department. But it was suppressed In some way, Have you any enemies, Gen- eral Brant?" “None that T know of. ““Then you probably b You are young and successful. Think of the hundreds of other officers who naturally believe them- selves better than you are, and haven't a traitorous wife. Still, the department may have made an example of you for the bene- fit of the only man who couldn't profit by it “Might it not have been, sir, that this sup- pression was for the good report of the sery- Ice—as the chlef offender was dead?” “Iam glad to hear you say so, General, for it is the argument I have used successfully in behalf of your wife.” “Then you know it all, sir? atter a gloomy pause. “All, T think. Come, general, you seemed, Just now, to be uncertain about your enemies. Let me assure you you need not be 50 in re- gard to your friends.” “I dare to hope I have found one, sir," said Brant, with almost boyish timidily. “Oh, not me,” sald the president, with a laugh of deprecation. “Some one much more potent." “May I know his name, Mr. President? “No. For it is a woman. You were nearly ruined by one, general. I suppose It's quite right that you should be saved by one; and, of course, irregularly." ‘ 1" echoed Brant. who was willing to hersell a worse spy than your wife—a double traitor—to save you! Upca my word, gen- eral, I don't know if the department was far WIONg; & man with such an alternately un- settling and convincing efféet upon a woman's I seem to remember your sald Brant sald Brant, confess highest political convictions should he under some _rentraint. Luckily, knows nothing of it.” ‘Nor would any one ever have known from me,” said Brant eagerly. “I trust that she aid not think—that you, sir—did not for an instant belleve that T-—' ““Oh, dear no. Ncbody would have believed you! It was her free confllence to me That was what made the affair so difficult to handle. For even her bringing your dis- pateh to the division commander looked bad for you—and you know he even doubted Its authentleity.” “‘Does she—does Miss Faulkner—know the Sy was my wife?" hesitated Brant. The president twisted himself in his chair %0 as to regard Brant more gravely with his deepest eyes, and then thoughtfully rub- bed his leg. “Don’t let us travel out of the record, General,” he said, after a pause. But as the color surged into Brant's cheek, ho raised his eyes to the ceiling, and said in & halt humorous recollection: “No, 1 think that fact was first from your old friend, Mr, “Hooker!” said Brant he come here?" “Pray don't destrcy my faith in Mr. Hooker, general,” said the president fn haif weary, half humorous deprecation. “Don’t tell me that any of his inventions are true! Leave me at least that magnificent liar the one perfectly intelligible witness you have. For from tha time he first appeared here with a grievance and a claim for a commission he has been an unspeakable joy to me and a convincing testimony to you. Other witnesses have been partisans and pre- Judiced. Mr. Hooker has been frankly true to himself. How else should 1 have known of the care you took to disguise yourself, save the honor cf your uniform, and run the risk of being shot as a unknown spy at your wife's side, except from his magnificent version of his part in it? How else should I have known the story of your discovery of the California conspiracy, except for his su preme portrayal of it, with himeelf as the o, you must not forget to thank when you meet him.. Miss Faulkner is at present more acces ble; she is calling on some members of my family in the next room. Shall L leave ¥ou with her? Brant roze with a pale face and a quickly throbbing heart, as the president, glancin at the clock, untwisted himself from the chalr, and shook himself cut at full length and so, gradually, to his feet. *Your wish for active service is granted, General Brant," he said slowly, “and you will at onca rejoin your old division commander, who is now at the head of the old Tenth army cd But," he said, after a deliberate p “there are certain rules and regulations of your servic that even I cannot with decent respect to your department override. You will, there- fore, understand that you cannot rejoin the army in your former position.” The slightest flush that came to Brant's cheek quickly passed. And there was only the unmistakable sparkle of renewed youth in his frank eyes as he said: “Let me get to the front again, Mr. President, and I care not low.” The president smiled, and, laying his heavy hand on Brant's shoulder, pushed him gently toward the door of the inner room. “I was v about to say,” he added, as he opened the door, “that it would be necessary for you to rejoin your promoted commander as a major general. — And,” he continued, lift- Ing his voice as he gently pushed his guest into the room, ** he hasn’t even thanked mo for it, Miss Faulkner! The door closed behind him, and he stood for a moment dazed, and still hearing the distant voice of ‘the president in the room he had just quitted, welcoming a new visitor. But the room before him, opening into a con- servatory, was empty save for a single figure that turned half-timidly, hali-mischievously the department gathered Hooker." indignantly, “did from the other nations would show them the Inability of gold alone as a measurer of val- ues. As yet they have hardly seen this bee cause since the Baring fallure the nations have been drawing gold from us. If we draw this metal away from them again, they, must of necessity look ta silver as & coe worker with gold. The motto that the fittest only survive now | applies to money as well as to any other matter. Gold alone as money Is not the fittest from its limited quantity; silver, from its bulk and abundance. The two together make the ideal metal money. No financler of repute would question the abllity of Bng- land to force bimetallism. She has the gold, but not the inclination. If we had the gold, a8 we have the inclination, then we could have bimetallism. Our going to free colnage of silver s just what England wants us to do, as then she would drain us of all our coined gold and also the product of our mines. This country better buy, borrow, pro- duce and accumulate $1,000,000,000 of gold and force bimetallism rather than surrender our position as the first nation in the world by _adopting free coinage of silver., Nothing succeeds like success. So it may be necrssary to accumulate as much gold as we have silver. Then we will be able to back up our demand for international bi- metallism. Then, If the nations still have a deaf ear to our petition for bimetallism, let us have real bimetallism of our own by putting 60 cents value in gold in the middls of 50 cents value In silver. This combina- tion coin would remain with us. Our for- eign balances could be paid in bullion when trado s against us J. M. BEMIS, Hurper's Dazar He had a soul for music, there was no dis puting that An ear which could detect at once a natural from a flat He never mi artist play Was at the matinee, ed a single chance to hear an opera every night, and every He'd talk of fugues and nocturnes with the greatest sort of ease, Of majors and of mino high C's. He'd tell you how the trilogy should prop- erly be sung, And often whisiled snatehes from the Gote terdammeruns. , of sopranos and He'd stores of pleasant memorles of singers he had met, And those he'd not encountered have their uts to make yet. On Verdi and on Wagner he was truly most roit; He'd even made a pilgrimage one season to Bayreuth. He knew Herr Paderewski, and upon a win- dow sill Could imitate sKill, ach morning on awakening, with fingers and his thumbs, He'd play upon 'the ymphony for drums, Von Bulow with inimitable bedposts a grand In fact he lived single fad, All music ple no measure b But best of all he sald he loved the xylo- phonic beat Of those piano-organs that go round from street to street. for music; but he had no d his inner soul; he deemed And as T thought about him, when I heard that he had died, uld not help o feeling of extraordinary pride, 0 think the its little Produced at honest man, age in which I lived had in t without a doubt a truly For though T think all xylophonic beat Of'those pilano-organs that go round from street to street, It takes a man’ of honesty, such mortals love the as we toward him. The same quick, sympathetic glance was in both their eyes. He moved quickly to her side. ,Then you knew that—that—woman was my wife?” he sald hurriedly, as he gras her hand. 4 i She cast a_half-appealing look at his face— a half-frightened one around the room and at an open door beyond. ‘“‘Let us,” she said faintly, 0 into the con- servatory.” Y Sy . Ty It is but a fow years ago that the humble chronicler of (nese pages moved with a won- dering crowd of sightseers in the gardens of the whit house. His attention was at. tracted by =n erect, handsome, soldierly look- ing man, with a beard and moustache slightly streaked with gray, who, with a stately lady on his arm, was pointing out the various ob. Jects of interest to a boy of 12 or 14 at their side. “‘And although, as I told you, this house is reserved only for the president of the United States and his family,” said the gentleman, smilingly, ““in_that little conservatory I pro- posed to your mother,” “‘Oh, Clarence, how can you?’ sald the lady, reprovingly. “You know it was long after that!” THE END, ——t THE GOLD MONOPOLY, BOSTON, Mass., Jan. 16.—To the Editor of The Bee: The gold standard s the great- est of all monopolies because of the limited supply as a measurer of values. It no more deserves the name of money than silver, which has been its co-worker ever since the two metals have been called money. The exclusive use of one without the other has always brought about commercial disaster, and always will, gold from Its scarcity, and silver from its abundance. The advocates of the scarcer, those who hold it, are always clamorous for the demonetization of the more abundant metal. So we can only conclude it both gold and silver should be produced in abundance at the same time, then there would arise a demand that some scarcer, more valuable article, like diamonds, should be the measure of values. Any article of universal desire assumes a monopoly until some substitute displaces or steps in to help do its office. Corn, for instance, because of the partial failure of the crop in 1894, ad- vanced abnormally in Chicago. As soon as it became known that wheat would fatten hogs more cheaply than corn, down goes {he price of corn, while wheat remains at un- changed prices. There was not corn enough; wheat came to the rescue. Th» two together are sufficient to do the business. That is, It Bives the man who has hogs to fatten a competition product and saves bim from bankrupfey. 8o gold in its scarcity demands a higher price, buys too much of the pro- duct of labor; couple silver with It to de- crease Its buying capacity, and the product of toll rises and saves it from bankruptey. But, the gold monometallist says, we are producing $160,000,000 of gold annually, and in twenty-five years the $4,000,000,000 of silver now used as money with gold can be' replaced by gold, Hence there will be no necessity of using the bulky silver after that time. Yes, if all the $160,000,000 produced I8 put into coin, and if the world stands still commercially for twenty-five years, but the best statisticians claim ‘that only about 33 per cent of the gold product is coined. Hence it would take soventy-five years to produce and replace silver with gold, by that time the world may demand $16,000,- 000,000 of metal money instead of $8,000.- 000,000 as now, which is about half each gold and sflver. Then again the monometallist says we only want a small per cent of gold behind the flat money the nations may issue, that tho flat money with checks, drafts, ete., will do the business. Up to the time of the Barings failure this paper or credit system did well, but that failure opened the eyes of the world and showed too much paper for the metal money. Hence the scramble for gold, and nearly all the pations are buying it. Why our panic during the past two years? Because the foreign nations saw 100 muc silver and paper compared with our gold supply. We have produced in this country somo $2,000,000,000 of gold, which if we now had, or even half of it, we would be the fittest nation on the face of the globe in gold, as we ehould be, and as we are in everything else. It Is the nation that holds tho gold that can compel international bime- tallism, and as this nation is rich in every- thing that commands gold, why not have the gold? We must bave more money from some gource until our revenues again are sufficient to meet government expenses, so why should congres: not pass a law giving the secretary of the treasury uuthority (o sell $600,000,000 gold bonds abroad, and thus show the world we mean o have, our woney equal to the best of ary nation. With this authority vested in the hands of the secre tary of the treasury, In my opinion he would not have o sell $50.000,000 hefore gld would flow I to us from all quarters of the globe, because such a move would establish our eredit beyond any possible doubt effect of this influx of gold whick would be drawan rarely Know, Combined with nerve to stand erect and tell the public so. _— IMPERIAL HAIR REGENERATOR. Perfectly restores o rich, lustrous color, makes the hair healthy, and | 'y clean. Steaming, salt, or Turkis Batha do not affect it. ' 1t Is as na ural. as nature; does not Interfere with curling and crimping. COLORS 6. Light Chestuyt 6. Gold Donde. 3, h Blonde, 4. Chestnut., Price $1.50, §3.00 A free sample bottle of the finest Tmipe-* rial Venus Tint” will be sent on recelpt of 2-cont stamp, IMPERIAL CHEMICAL MFG. CO., 292 Fifth Avenue.N,Y. IN OMAHA: SHERMAN & McCONNELL, 1513 Dodge St. DOCTOR g SEARLES. . . & SEARLES, Chronic, Nervous, Private Diseases, TREATMENT BY MALL, Consultation free, ‘Wo cure Oatarrh, all disenses of the Nose, Throat, Chest, Stomach, Liver, Blood, Skin and Kidney Diseases, Fe- male Weaknesses, Lost Manhood, and ALL PRIVATE DISEASES OF MEN, WEAK MEN ARE VICTIMS TO NERVOUS Debllity or Exhaustion, Wasting Weakness, In voluntary 'Losses, with Early Decay in young and middle aged; ‘lack of vim, vigor andweakened prematurely” i upproaching old age. ALl yoll readily to our new treatment for loas of Vital power, Call on or address with stamp for cire culars. free book and m“"’“l&lf‘ ¥ Dr. Searles and Searles, 41! b T8, B. 0. WEST'S NERVE AND BRAIN TREATMENT s sold under positive written rantee, by authorized ngents only, to curo Weak l-mm; Loss of Brain and Nerve Power: Lost Manhi Quickness; Night Lossca; Evil Drenms; Luck of Confidence; Nervousness; Lassitudo; all D Losa of Power of the Generutive Oryi gex, cansed by over-oxertion, Yonthful Erro Lxdesnive Uso of Tobuoco, Opium or Liq which loads to Misery, Consumption, I and Doath, By mail, §14 box written guarantos to curo or rofund money. Liver Pills curo Rick Headacho, Biliousness, Liver Compluint, Sour itomuch, Dyspepsin and Constipation. GUANANTEES Jssaed only by Goodman Drug Co, Omaha. | 1 11 oif ———THE RANGISCAN DROPS .. Prepared from the ellfilml fo mula rre rerved in the Archiver of the Holy Land. bay ug w8 suthentie history ng bacs 600 yoars A POSITIVE CURE foz all Stomach, Kidney and Bowel troubles, especially CHRONI(. CONSTIPATION, Price 5O ceats. Sold by all druggiste, The Fraucis:an Remedy Co,, 134 V4> “UREY 67., CHICAGO, ILL. ? for Uireular ; ma fiagirated Cslendar For salelby Kulin & Co.,15th & Douslag ALL ABOUT CHANGING the Features aud Rewmoy: isbies, in 150 p. buok for & stamp. + Woodbury, 131 W. 420 5., Luvealor of Woodbury's Facial Boab.