The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, August 23, 1896, Page 18

e D S HERE.ISTHE FARL oF 17 GASKE ) wzfl\\/ = N YSTERIOUSLY DISAPPEARED wu;u | with excitement, and stopped one of his Tonn o nue Fart of aaket, Under mediom | boys. “Go and tell the old man,” he said Bize, biue-eyed, re fcent manner: constant pipe- smoker: wore miners’ clothes and close-cropped beard of singular copper volor. Two hundred pounds reward for information regarding his whereabouts. FOSDYK & FOSDYK, olicitors, 4 Bishopsgate-within, London, E. C.—Advertise- ment. I have never toid of my connection with | the Earl of Gasket affair. In the first| place the details of the story will disclose the discreditable part I played, and in the | second I cannot say positively that I ever | saw the real Earl of Gasket. Toallintents | and purposes I was myself the Earl of | Gasket while off the California coast, but | if my fellow-passenger was not the real| Eari théen I was the counterfeit of & shadow, and the mystery will only become | deeper by the publication of my experi- | ence. So0Ihave hesitated about writing it. | On the other hand, the name and de- scription are so like the man I knew that the matter could scarcely have been a simple coincidence. And as for his disap- in a stage whisper, *‘that the Earl of Gasket has come—quick!” The boy started, stared at me as he would at a ghost and making a wary | detour around me darted down the com- panionway. My first impulse was to explain. I would call a halt. But before I knew it an intoxicating warmth of spirit possessed me and I was exhilarated by a sense of temporary importance. *‘Your majesty !” What nonsense I thought, and yet it tickled me immensely. I did not them realize as [ do now that in common with most Americans I had a sneaking awe of title, and was willing to be identified with an earl even through a biunder, as more than one of my countrywomen have been, “1’1] just go auead,” I thought, “and see how it ends. the Earl comes. Besides, there is my | trunk, and it behooves a traveler to keep pearanee from Babaquivera with the big | bis baggage in sight. It will givemea gold bar, it is quite natural thet he should have decided to get into Mexico, and 50 | chose Ensenada as his destination, where | on his way from the mines with the goid, | and that his bones may now be lying on the deseri, gnawed cléan by coyotes. in that case who was my fellow-passenger, and why did he personate the Earl? No, after thinking thexmatter over, I in- cline to the belief that the Earl went to the dogs in Arizona, and finaily 1n dis- gust decided to steal the gold bar in- trusted to him and use the proceeds to carry him away, anywhere—to Mexico, | 1f 1 rememuver rightly, | China or India. the papers said the bar was worth $12,000. That was enough to tempt even an. Earl, | especially if he were young and impe- cunious. 1t is probable that on the death of the Duchess What's-her-name, when the London lawyers were looking over the world to find the heir to her miilions, that young man, unconscious of his greater wealth, was scattering the proceeds of the Arizona gold bar in the lotus lands across | the Pacific. I have no doubt that he will | eventually turn up to claim his money. It is to give the young devil his due tbat | Itell my story, and old newspaper men will pardon me for emerging trom the decent and customary anonymity of the craft to assist in solving the absorbing question—Where is the Ear! of Gasket? I am a newspaper man—Ear] Gasket by name. During one of the late Central American squabbles I was sent down as special correspondent, mainly through a villainous smattering of Spanish unfortu- nately picked up along the Rio Grande. | It is irrelevant and pamnful to dwell upon | my experiences in Central Afnerica. I| got out as quickly as possible, and came | up along the coast, writing up special ar- ticles, and finaily landed at Enseneda. There I awaited the steamer Triton, Cap- tain von Rudder, en route from Mazatlan to SBan Francisco. Owing to “untoward circumstances,” etc., [found I bad barely enough money left to buy a second-class ticket. I was not sorry, however, to part with my last ‘‘dove” for the pasteboard that would take me back to S8an Francisco, and I scanned the list of my fellow-passengers with as much interest as if I were traveling on a first-class pass. Morenos, Rodriguezes, Fulanos, Zutanos, and all, Tsaw: “The Earl of Gdsket.” “Aba,”’ said I, “the Gaskets travel to- gether. I shall cultivate his Grace,” The mext afternoon the Triton’s deep whistle was heard. The entire population with one accord awoke from 1ts siesta and ran open-mouthed to the beach and swarmed on the long wharf hike ants. I sent my trunk down on the back of a stout paisano and followed soon after. The Triton was just making fast. Cap- tain von Rudder, bluff and *bearded, stood on the bridge bellowing out orders in English, 8panish or German, and some- times mixing the three, as occasion seemed to require.. Dozens of Mexicans jumped for the lines as they were heaved ashore, while others ram for the gang- plank ana cleared the way with a great deal of noise for the uniformed captsin of the port, who majestically advanced, with a few hangers-on, all calmly smoking cigarettes. A fusillade of salutations had begun between the crowd and their friends on board, and the.air was full of ‘*Como te vas, Chicha? Ah, Pepe! que tal de Mazatlan?"”’ _Boon the hnes were made fast and the gangplank run out. Friends, men as well as women, embraced and patted one an- other on the back. The sailors dealing in odd shells and gulf pearls brought out their wares, squawking parrots and green pineapples obstructed the path, and the puffing donkey engine began to disem- bowel the steamer of crates of panoche, barrels of tequila and big bunches of plan- tains. The busy steward and his flunkies hustled the passengers ashore and began to stow away the newcomers for San Francisco. My porter stood by and pointed to me when addressed by the steward, who consulted his list and read the name, “Earl Gasket,” on my trunk. *“Right this way, Mr.—um—that is— er—your Majesty,” said the steward, fawning before me. “Billy, bring the Earl’s trunk into No. 17. Not so luxuriant as you are used to, of course,” added the steward, turning to me, “‘but the best stateroom we've got on the ship., Wil you come this way, um—um ?"” The sieward led the way, quivering But | Among the names of the | | sight to become acquainted with the Earl, | too, and maybe he can furnish a story.” So Linvented excuses while the steward an English company was operating. There | led me to No. 17. Evidently he had been he would bave found congenial young Englishmen as dissipated as himse Thence he would have decided to risk de- tection at Ban Francisco while embarking on an Oriental steamer. Of course, I ad- mit the possibility that the young Earl never left Arizona alive, but was waylaid | | studying also, for he proceeded without | hesitation to address me as ‘'your majesty” as if satisned that he had found the proper title. “‘Have a cup of coffee, your Majesty—or | p'r’aps something else?”’ “Well, yes, something else,” | “And I say, my dear feilow, if Captaln von—von Tiller—von Helm—" As Ispoke the doorway was darkened, and the captain’s huge bulk appeared. “Von Rudder,” he roared out, as though | I were a ship's length distant. “Von | Rudder; is this the Earl of Gasket? Vell,” | be continued, before I could explain, and | crushing my hand in his, “Earl, I am | wery happy to meet you. Bienwenida, eh? Hope you vill make yourselt com- fortable; just time to shake hands; Billy, tell Mr. Johnscn to blow the vhistle; I'm behind, I must make it up between here and San Francisco, already; and a big cargo for Ensenada, too; mucho negocio, {eh? Carambas!” | The hearty captain wiped his brow, and | T essayed to explain. Snrely thisis going too far, [ thought. Before I could speak Le resumed: “Vell, Earl, just make yourself to home. Mr. Vilkins, the purser, told me that you I said. got two staterooms to make sure- of one, Good1” The steward, with the uncrring instinet of his race, stood waiting with two glasses. As we raisea them to our lips the deafening whistle sounded, and we indi- cated our mutual esteem by a flourish. Captain von Rudder hastily drank, waved his band and was gone. I would fain have explained— Bang! bang! bang! *“All ashore not going in the ship!” Bang! bang! bang! “Adios, amiguito!” “Adios, adios!” “‘Let go the bow-line, Mr. Joknson!” The confusion of tongues, thumping of baggage, scuffling of feet and pufiing en- gines were enlivening sounds. I went outside and saw the L;ustle of departure— the enibraces of the Morenos and Fulanos, the fluttering of papers, the scurrying of It can be explained when | THE EARL OF GASKET 2 ), the crew in casting off lines, piling up baggage and hauling up the plank. At the last moment, in the very nick of time, before the Triton swung off, a httle man came sauntering down the wharf, carrying a small black satchel and clasp- ing a black brier between his teeth. He looked around for the gangplank, fonnd it drawn up and without hegitation began to clamber down one of ‘the piles, keeping a tight grip on the bag and awkwardly stepping from spike to spike driven in the pile. A flunky ran up und wid him to throw down the bag, but the little man made no reply. The ship had begun to move. Captain von Rudder was exasper- ated. “Vell, vell, manyana vill do! Don’t be in a hurry!” he bellowed in ponderous sarcasm. The newcomer turned to see from whence came the sudden criticism, lost his hold and fell upon the rail in a heap. The flunky grasped him and pulled him toa place of safety. And now, as I remember, the fellow never lost his grip on the hand- bag and the pipe. As he stood up and brusned himself I noticed that his beard was of a peculiar copper color and English 1n cut, “The steward was right—‘the Earl of Gasket has came,””’ thought I. He stood for a moment and glanced quizzically up to Captain von Rudder, on the bridge, while the latter uttered a few remarks with a point to them like the point of a biudgeon. Tnen he went aft. I remained on deck and saw the little town and the long whart fade in the dis- tance and the dusk. ‘*Adios,” I said,wav ing my hand to Mexico and all Central America—‘Adios! I came to you as a newspaper man and I leave you as an Earl!"” 1 had grown reckless, perhaps. ButI felt that my time for explaining had passed. Let the other fellow explain. Going boldly to the stateroom set apart for his Grace, I made myself at home as the captain had requested. The fawning steward appeared, and asked if his Ma- jesty would preter to take dinmer pri- vately. It was a good suggestion, and I adopted it. In a twinkling the dinner was before me—a most appetizing meal. Captain von Rudder came in, alter having given orders to the helmsman to steer “nort’vest, half nort,”” and to **hook her on.” As we chatted I heard the purser ap- proaching, calling for tickets. “My time is short,” I thought, but L managed to preserve a calm exterior. I had deter- mined, since my time for explanations bad passed, to “run a cold bluff,’ as I once heard a man of pleasant manners re- mark. “Earl, this is Mr, Vilkins, the purser,” said Captain von Rudder. *Mr, Vilkins, the Eari of Gasket.”” “How do you do, um-um?” mumbled the purser. “Quite a mix-up somehow, man out here says he’s the only Egrl on board. Says he lost his ticket. List says Earl of Gasket, first-class, and Earl Gas- ket, second-class. Suppose you engaged both rooms, um-um? Suppose he’s a bilk?"” “No, Mr. Wilkins,” I replied coolly; “I fancy the list is correct. As I remember, I nave heard an Earl Gasket mentioned— a writer, you know—a newspaper man, if I mistake not. These fellows are devlish shrewd, though reaily why he should at- tempt to pose as the Earl of Gasket is more than I can understanc.” “'Ob,” interrupted Captain von Rudder, “you don’t know these newspaper fellers. They are the biggest nuisance you ever saw. I tell you, Earl, you never know vat they vill do next, especially these San Francisco fellers, vhich I consider the vorst of the United States. One time vhen I just came out of La Paz—-"" Here the captain related a startling in- stance of the satanic clairvoyance and pro- digious staying qualities of a reporter, which entertained me mcre than he knew. I busied myself in fieding my ticket, which I presented to Mr. Wilkins. ‘“‘Hello! ‘Earl Gasket—second clags!’” he cried. 5 I assumed what I hoped Was an attitude of surptise. *‘You don’tinean it, really?” Tsaid. “H'm—deucedly awkward of that Gasket person, don’t you know? It can’t be that he has the first-class ticket?"" “That's it1” pellowed the captain. “Ho-ho! Narrow escape, eh? Vhat dia 1 told you about these newspaper fellers?” “No,” said the purser; 'he has no ticket. This is his.” “Vgll, velll this nonsense must be stopped,’’ said Captain von Rudder, with sudden sternness. “Mr. Vilkins, let's go and see that man.” They went out, and I casually followed as soon as prudent. Directing my steps by the roar of the captain’s voice, I was led into the saloon, where a crowd had gathered around. 4 There, in the center of the group, sat the meek little Barl of Gasket, the handbag lying on the table between his out- stretched arms, He was looking over his pipe at the captain and the purser with an expression of blank amazement in his eyes, “I never before had occasion to doubt my identity,” he was saying. “Give him his own ticket, Mr. Vilkins, said the captain. “Now, Gasket, I don’t vant you to try any more funny business on this woyage—eh? You carn’t fool me. I have seen you in Ensenada. Nobody can forget vhiskers like yours is, already.” Poor little Earl! He tried to hide his confusion by again searching for the missing ticket. “He did not look in the handbag, I noticed, btut kept one hand near it constantly. His search was fruit- less, and finally, to escape the battery of eyrs, he arose and left the saloon. There was no excuse for my meanness and dishonesty in not disclosing the true state of affairs. I was strongly impelled to tell the captain the truth, but— Well, I returned and occupied the first class cabin. The next morning, instead of restoring to the Earl his rights at once, I conceived a plan to continue masquerading in bor- rowed glory, It was a miserable subter- fuge, but, I am ashamed to say, 1 thought at the time 1t was ratber clever. ““We are now on the high seas,” I thought. “We had reached the three-mile limit, surely, before I gave the purser to understand that 1 was the Earl of Gasket. Why not enjoy myself until almost to Frisco, and then return the title to the Earl while still on the high seas? The title would be none the worse for wear. Certainly there is no international law,” I thought, *“‘covering this point. There is no precedent to follow. My act hardly comes under the head of piracy or forcible entry and detainer or any of those high crimes, At the worst, it is simply an acquiescence in a fortuitous situation.” I arose, breakfasted and went out on deck. There, by the rail, stood the Earl, gazing off toward the dim California coast and smoking his inevitable brier. On a sudden impulse I resolved to speak to bim. “This is your first visit to California, is it not, Mr. Gasket ?"’ I remarked, with an assumption of ease. “Under the circumstances, yes,” he re- plied quietly, and glancing curiously at me. It I mistake not there was a twinkle in his eye. “Great country,” said L. ik “Intensely so,” said the Earl. “One meets with queer aaventures.” “Deucedly queer.” “Of course,” I persistea, “regarding the present adventure [ am no more at fault than yourself. I was notallowed to ex- plain.” “No explanation is necessary,” said the Eerl, hastily. “So far as Iam concerned the present arrangement is quite satisfac- tory—quite so. The novelty—um-—qaite delightful, I assure you. Bit of a romance for my book on America, don’t you know, Quite delighted.” ‘““HAS CAME” The deuce! thought I. Why so sud. denly delighted? *Very well,” I sald, “I shall abdicate whenever you like.” ““Very good, very good,” replied the Earl. So we parted the best of friends. As we neared the Golden Gate, however, the old blustering winds began to blow, and my careless dream began to fade in the light of the realities of the life I was 4gain approaching. “After all,” I thought, *‘a beat is better than borrowed glory, and I would rather run ascoop than reign in a lazy land. The Earl can have his title back. T will get ino the whirl of newspaper work. No more Spanish Amer- ica for me.” ‘When the opportunity prfsanwd itself I broached the subject to' Captain von Rudder. “Captain,” 1 said, “'you remem- ber telling me that the ways of newspaper N FRANCISCO CALL, SUNDAY, AUGUST 23, 1896. . men were pecaliar. You will, no doubt, be more confirmed than ever in your opinion when you learn that Iam not the Earl of Gasket at all, I am plain Earl Gasket, a newspaper man, aud the little Englishman with the copper-colored beard is the real Earl.” “He is, eh?"” said the captain, evidently not receiving wmy statement as true. “Yes, he is entitled to this siateroom and 1 am not. The whole thing happened through a very curious mistake. As he made no fuss about it I let matters. take their course. But as we are nearing San Francisco I thought it best to tell yon. I have no desire to play the part any lon-er.” But no, the captain would not believe me. He regarded it asa joke, the point of which had not become apparent to him. Then I produced my baggage and showed him letters from the managing editor and instructions regarding my work down the coast. Irecalled points about San Francisco that nobody but a resident woula know asa witness that I was not an English Earl. The captai said the case was very strange and finally Rave me to understand, in a hali-hearted manner, that he credited my storv. He occasionally glanced shrewdly at me, however, as if suspecting me of some stratagem. Afterward I saw him and the Earl talk- ing, and the Earl was shaking his head vigorously. I wondered if Captain von Rrdder was asking whether or not my story was true. The captain was more reserved during the rest of the trip, and indeed paid no attention to me. We drew swiftly into the harbor and approached the pier. The first persons, as nsug}, to come on board were the customs officers in uniform. They were accompanied, however, by a man in citizen’s dress, with whom I soon afterward became quite well acquainied. Captain von Rudder advanced and shook HE SEES THE RANKS OF LABOR hands with the officers, Mr. Wilkins did likewise, and while the impatient passen- gers fretted and fumed the officers deliber- ately looked over all the papers and finally pronounced them good. The word to go ashore was given and the Morenos and Fulanos and their tribal connections were soon engaged in a turbu- lent stream on the wharf. I prepared to leave the ship, when I saw the civilian approach Captain von Rudder, say a few words, and show him a paper. Captain von Rudder turned and pointed toward me, saying, ‘‘There's your man.” They advanced to me, and the mansaid: =1 have a warrant for the arrest of the Earl of Gasket.” “Well,” said f, “why don’t you serve it?”’ “Here it is, sir,”” said the man. “Will you come along with me?”’ “But you've got the wrong Gasket,” I replied. “Iam not the Earl. The man you want is a little fellow with close cropped, copper-colored whiskers, always smoking & pipe—"* “Vell, vell,” broke in Captain von Rud- der, “this is the Earl of Gasket, if you want bhim. You fellers are pretty sleek already,” he added, turning to me. There was no necessity for a scene. I knew I couid clear the matter up quickly enough by going to the police station and sending for my chief. I smelled a first- rate story, too, and looked over the crowd to see if the Earl wasin sight. AsIex- pected, he was not. “Come on,” I said. The man kindly allowed me time enough to clear my baggage and L brought it with me to the station. On the way the man said he was a detective and had the auda- city to ask if I did not think it was rather a good job catching me. “No, I think it is the most blundering piece of work I ever saw,” I said. “The Eurl of Gasket has walked away f{rom under your nose.” The man laughed at what he considered my chagrin, At police headquarters they told me what I was wanted for and treated me with great respect as the biggest crook they had captured in many a day. Irather enjoyed the distinetion for a time and sub- sequent inquiry revealed ihe fact that the Earl of Gasket had improved that shining hour. ‘When my chief came, in response to my note, he cleared me in the twinkling of an eyeand I haa the satisfaction of'overhear- ing the officer in command asg him to Keep the story out of the papers. It would give the department a black eye, he said. 1 shook hands with my late captor and said: “Yes, sir, it's the most biundering piece of work I ever saw.” 1 don’t know what steps the officers took to find the Earl of Gasket. I learned afterward, however, that the trans-Pacific steamer City of Singapore had sailed an hour or so after our arrival, and I thought perhaps the Earl had gone on her. His name was not on the list, however, and when she returned I asked the purser if anvbody had taken passage after the list had closed. He could not say. The stew- ard said there was a man, small, quiet, with peculiar copper-colored Whiskers, but, he thought, an American. That's all I know sbout it, and that’s why I, like Fosdyk & Fosdyk of Lon- don, want to know several things. One of the first questions is, *'W here is the Earl of Gasket?” IrA E. BENNETT. THE PROSPECT MUST BRIGHTEN The Outlook for Boys at the Present Time as Viewed by Olive Heyden. I shouldn’t like to be a boy just now, with my life and its work before me. I shoutdn’t know what to choose, or how to go about it after I had chosen. These times are sadly out of joint and great must be the change now struggling for birth. Truly the problem before a girl is as difficult, but girls have been used sincethe ages began to face uncomiortable situa- tions, and in this generation they have seen such an opening of doors and drop- ping of bars that they are fairly running riot in their new freedom to labor at what they will. The first use the human animal makes of liberty is to abuse it, then to learna new lesson from the results of that abuse, and by hurling against the wall on oue side and then on the other, to at last settle into the happy medium. 8o, while our sisters are passing through this transition period they may fairly claim consideration and time to prove themselves worthy of the honors awaiting them. But boys—now, it is a pretty hard world for them, and will be until several prob- lems work themselves out, with or with- out great convulsions. Things are so dreadfully crowded. The boy thinks of the work he likes, and then he sees men, strong, experienced men, leaving that occupation for anything they CROWDED WITH can find to do, and he thinks “it 1s useless to learn it if there is no room for more workers.” z Then he looks about, and finds, with a shock, that all the common avenues of la- bor are crowded with hungry-eyed men, who understand that the present “job” stands, a frail barrier, between them and charity, chance or starvation. He sees a new and even larger army of boys coming on to claim a place in the ranks already crowded and overcrowded, and can you wonder if sometimes his energy and am- bition relax, and he does any work which will bring him in money, without much regard to the honor or dishonor of it? It is a queer feeling, and one very pow- erful to change a stiff backbone to gela- tinous condition, the feeling that there is no place for one in the weorld. It doesn’t conduce to good citizensnip at all. A boy feels something not akin to love for the country which claims him, yet refuses im a place and opportunity to labor. The result of the present Presidential campaign will, I believe, neither end nor perpetuate these conditions. The roots lie too deep to be disturbed by such a tem- pest. The situation isas wide as the cir- cumference of the earth, and a reform as broad as that must come before things are finally straightened out. A very funny argument is that which savs there are too many people in the wc;rld, and suffering must reduce the num- ber. The United States is not nearly full to the brim, yet, in comparison with some countries more thickly settied the condi- tion of the people has been more rapidly growing worse. The place for advancement seems to be in the learned professions and the occupa- tions that require higher education. Edu- cation is freer than 1t used to be, and at the same time it is not so {ree. True, a boy may be educated witha smaller outlay than was possible a genera- tion or two ago, but fewer, far fewer, of the fathers of the middle-class are able to afford thatoutlay. Higher education is most decidedly not free. A college training costs much. The free tuition makes no one perfectly free to takeit. Colleze education must, 10 be of any value, be taken after a boy is old enough to work. Then his time is money. While the boy needs his days for study some one needs his days for dollars. Sometimes in a boy’s after life he feels a sense of injury in that he lacks some- thing & higher education might (or might not) have given him. It matters not what his work is, the need of education makes itself felt; and with it comes a feel- ing of resentment toward somebody or something. It is nonsense to say that only certain occupations need any general education. 1 know it has been most satisfactorily proven by argument, but the mechanic, the clerk, the farmer, yes, even the laborer, continues to feel, if he does not say, “I need to know more.” A man will sweep a streetjthe better for having had a general traiding. It will make him discontented with his labor, to be sure, which is the first step toward ele- vating him to something higher. 1 have often, constrained by the affec- tion I bear for the whole varied race of boys, thought of the other problem which confronts them on’ the threshold of life. Can it have a wholesome effect on the character of & boy, on his honesty and his honor, to know he must have ‘“a pull” to get a place? It is no great incentive to industry or Lo faithfulness to know that they count for one, while influence counts for nine. The days when we carried our letters of recom- mendation in_our faces and our habits, hke boys in bobks, have zone entirely, it would geemn. This prevails most in cities, but the dis- ease spreads rapidly. Not more than ten years ag), when a city teacher asked me bow [ secured my desirable position in a country school, I answered sumply: “I grew up in the ‘town, and they knew I could do the work.” The city teacher an- swered, doubtingly: “If you have found Acadia you had better stay there. The rest of the world asks not of your ability, but of your ‘puil.’ ” Now, in that same Acadia I see from afar the gathering strength of influence and the growing weakness of simple abil- ity and fitness. The lives of men who began as very poor boys and died the possessors, or, more truly, the leavers, of millions are held up before the boy of to-day, and he is told to go and do likewise. In the first place, he cannot do it in this generation as he could have done one, two or three generations ago—by pluck, de« termination and industry. The condi- HUNGRY-EYED MEN. tions havechanged, and the country is no longer a new one to be grown up with. While cities were springing up like strong vines in the June sun some, more bold and tactful, might have been car- ried up with them; while great railroads were building, new lands bemng opened and rich mines being discovered there were chances, good and bad, for the young man venturesome enough to- grasp them. That time is past. Our boys must make up their minds to leave little to chance, and they soon find out themselves how little they can depend upon opportunity. The day laborer must be in with some one to get an opportunity to exchange ten hours hard labor for a dollar. The very street gamin mustknow ‘‘de push’’ to gain permission from some vague potentate to sell papers on the corner. The lad who wishes to learn a trade goes not simply and in person to apply for an apprenticeship. He knows well, young as he is, how quickly the door will shut in his dirty, eager face. He uses his little wits to put one and one together where they will make two. He thinks of all the men he knows, or his father knows, and figures out which of them best know the **boss” of the shop he wishes to enter, and then he begins to pull wires like the embryo rascal he has to be. Once in a house or shop his promotion depends in a small measure upon his work and in a large measure upon who he is. That this condition is general is proved by the query wbich meets the news of the employment of any one. Try it. Tell your friends that some mutual acquaint- ance has secured a position in any house, and see if they do not, one and all, ask, “How did he get in?"" 1n public offices a pull is seemingly a matter of course. ‘The ingenious typewriting girls, who admitted they expected four times as much pay for doing City work, were tak- ing a lesson from their brother man. The brain-workers, too, are partly handi- capped by the increasing difficulty in gaining a livelihood. It cramps.genius or perverts it to know that it must be con- verted into money right now, or the spark of inspiration wiil die tor want of bread. There is something most vitally wrong with a time when men must struggle so hard to make a living that they have neither time nor energy to make a life. |The weird, sensual and short-lived liter- ature of the day is the result of .he same pressure. We must write what will sell, The two extremes, the shagey, gloomy, law-hating anarchist, and the slender, ei- feminate man of fashion are results, They did not make themselves. Boys live, and will continue to live, even in worse conditions, but life isn't very satisfactory just now. Things will right in time, perhaps, and time to come may counteract the effects of the present. It is wrong to point to the failures of this time as present failures. They are failures of ihe past. Thestream of wrong living has been flowing down to us througn other lives and broadenine as it flowed. It is no great honor to be a boy now- adays, and no bed of ease. The tenderest consideration and sympathy is only jus. tice for boys who fail; the highest respect and honor is only the just due of thosa who honestly succeed, hovever humbly, - Orive HEYDEN.