The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, October 23, 1904, Page 5

THE SAN FRANCISCO SUNDAYV CALL. You have reopened the door to doubt, and if T admit the doubt I shall fajl” The sonata Penelope was playing g its finale, and Elinor ghaken with a trembling of fear—the fear of consequences ht involve this man's entire he knew Kent was leaning was sudden] fit & he saw hergelf as one who N y thrust an {iron bar \ J wheels of a delicate me- N Who was she to be his y ence-keeper—to stand in _the and bid him go back? Were own motives always so ex- ted? Had she not once deliber- ately debated this same question expediency, to the utter abasement ¢ her own ideals? Penelope had left the piano, and Lor- ing was looking at his watch. Kent saw them through the open window and got upon his feet. “Grantham is saying he had no idea la ' he hazarded. “If I what you have said I it must be as the patient the surgeon for the knife- Tzroke which leaves him a cripple for ife.” It was the one word needed to break her resolution. “'Oh, forget it; please forget it!" she said. “I had no right You are doing a-man’s work In the world, and i 1st be done in a man's way. If I cannot help, you must not let me hin- 4 u let anything I have said > you I shall never cease re- was a mere indrawing of opened v to shut it ag like a man! am t can’'t be done. I had been o keep away from that noint AT There is much There was wouldn't have gone ich a thing as this fight with the but being in, I should have it through regardless of the pub- welfare—ignoring that side of it. w; you have shown want to be a stum- ing block,” she insisted. *“Won't you eve that I wanted to help?” I believe that your motive was all it should be; yes. But the result is the same.” Loring and Penelope were coming the end of their privacy was at will you do?"” she asked. 1 don’t know: nothing that I had 1t to do. It was a false start and back under the wire again.” ut you must not turn back un- you are fully convinced of the g of going on?” she protested. Didn’t vou mean to convince me?" —yes—I don't know. I—it seems very clear to me; but I want to seem clear to you. Doesn’t your ience tell you that you ought n back ?” “No,” he said, shortly; but he im- nediately cualified the denial. “You 3508 See Announcement Next Sunday. THE SUNDAY CALL e TR e 1 \ \VJQ Y \4 EACH WEEK FOR THE BEST may be right; I am afraid you are right. But I shall have to fight it out for myself. There are many things to consider. If I hold my hand these buccaneers will trlumph over the stockholders, and 2 host of innocent people will suffer loss.” Then, seeing the quick-springing tears in her eyes; “but you mustn’t be sorry for having done what you had to do; you have nothing to reproach yourself for.” “‘Oh, but I have!” she said; and so they parted. CHAPTER XXIIL The Insurrcctionaries. When the Receiver Guilfords, great and small, set their official guillotines at work lopping off department heads, they commonly ignore a consequence overlooked by many; namely, the pos- sible effect of such wholesale changes in leadership upon the rank and file. The American railroad in its uncon- solidated stage is a modern feudalism. Its suzerains are the president and board of directors; its clan chiefs are men who have built it and fought for its footing in the sharply contested ficld of competition. To these leaders the rank and file is loyal, as loyalty is accorded to the men who build and do, rather than to their successors who inherit and tear down. Add to this the supplanting of competent executive officers by a staff of political trencher- men, ignorant alike of the science of railroading, and the equall¥ important sub-science of industrial man-han- dling, and you have the kindling for the fire of insurrection which had been slowly smoldering in the Transwest- ern service since the day when Major Guilford had issued his general order number one. At first the fire had burned fitfully, eating its way into the small econo- mies; as when the section hands pelt stray dogs h new spikes from the stock keg, and careless freight crews seed down the right of way with cast- oft links and pins; when engineers pour oil where it should be dropped, and firemen feed the stack instead of the steam dome. But later, when the incompetence of the new officials became the mocking gibe of service, and the cut-rate avalanche of traffic had doubled all men’s tasks, the flames arose higher§ and out of the smoke of them loomed the shape of the dread demon of de- moralization. First it was Hank Brodrick, who misread his orders and piled two freights in a mountain of wreckage In the deep cut between Long Pine and Argenta. Next it was an overworked night man who lost his head and cranked a switch over in front of the west-bound flyer, laying the 1020 on her side in the ditch, with the postal and the baggage car neatly telescoped on top to hold her down, Two days later it was Patsy Calla- han; and though he escaped with his life and his job it was a close call. He was chasing a time freight with the fast mall, and the freight was taking the siding at Delhi to let him pass. One of the red tail-lights of the freight had gone out, and Callahan mistook the other for the target lamp of the second switch. He bhad time to yell at his fireman, to fling himself upon the throttle-bar and to set the airbrake before he began to turn Irish handsprings down the em- bankment; but the wrecking crew camped two whole days at Delhi gath- ering up the debris. It was well on in the summer, when the two divisions, east and west, were strewn with wreckage and the pit tracks in the shops and‘shop yard were filled to overflowing with crippled en- gines, that the Insurrectionaries began to gather In thelr respective labor groups to discuss the growing hazards of raflroading on the Transwestern. The outcome was a protest from the Brotherhood of Locomotive Engineers, addressed to the receiver in the name of the organization, setting forth in plain terms the grievance of the members, and charging it bluntly to bad management. This was followed immediately by simillar complaints from the trainmen, the telegraphers, and the fireman; all praying for relief from the incubus of incompetent leadership. Not to be behind these, came the Amalgamated Machinis! demanding an increase of pay for night work and overtime; and last, but not least, an intimation went forth from the Federative Council of all these labor unions hinting at possi- ble political consequences and the allenation of the labor vote if the abuses were not corrected. “What d'ye calc’late the major will do about it?” sald Brodrick. in the roundhouse conclave held daily by the trainmen who were hung up or off duty. “Will he listen to reason and give us & sure-enough raflroad man or two at the top?” ot in ein t'ousand year,” quoth “Dutch” Tischer, Callahan’s alternate on the fast mail. “Haf you not de Arkoos been reading? It is bolotics from der beginning to der ent; mit der. Governor vorwarts.” “Then I am tellin' you-all right now there’s goin’ to be a heap o’ trouble,” drawled “Pike County” Griggs, the oldest engineer on the line. “The shop- men are b'ilin’; and if the major puts on that blanket cut in wages he's talk- in’ about—" “‘If,’” broke in Callahan, with fine scorn. “ 'Tis slaping on yer injuries ye are, Misther Griggs. The notice is out; ‘twas posted In the shops this % ““Then that settles it” sald Griggs, gloomily. “When does it take hold?” “The first day av the month to come. An’ they're telling me it catches every- body, down to the missinger b'ys in the of-ces.” Griggs got uj and stretching into his ocorner n his feet, yawning fo!n he dropped back ©of chaw o' your smokin’ plug, Mr. Calla- han,” and he held out his hand. Callahan emptied the hot ashes from his black pipe into the open palm. “*Tis what ye get f'r yer impidunce an’ f'r layin’ tongue to ould man Dur- gan, ye scut. °'Tis none av his doin's —the dhirty oil an’ the chape waste an’ the jacket lamps. It's ay-conomy, me son; an’ the other name f'r that is a rayceiver.” _“Is Durgan with us?”’ asked Brod- rick. “He's wit' himself, as a master me- chanic shu'd be,” sald Callahan. “So's M'Tosh. But nayther wan n'r t'other av thim’ll take a thrain out whin the strike's on. They’'re both Loring min.” At the ‘mention of Loring’s name Griggs looked up from the stick he was whittling. “No prospects o' the Boston folks getting the road back again, I reck- on,” he remarked tentatively. “You should read dose Arkoos apers; den you should know et’ings alretty, ain’d it?” said cher. Brodrick laughed. “If you see it in the papers, it's s0,” he quoted. ‘““What the Argus doesn’t say would make a 'nough sight bigger book than what it does. But I've been kind o' watchin’ that man Kent. He's been hot after the major, right from the jump. You rec’lect what he said in them Civic League talks o' his; said these politicians had stole the road, hide, hair an’ horns.” “I'm onto him,” sald Callahan. “’Tis a bird he i{s. Oleson was telling me. . The Scandehoovian was thryin’ to get him down to Gaston the day they ray-ceivered us. Jarl says he wint a mile a minut’, an’ the little man never turned a hair.” “Is he here yet; or did he go back to God's country?” asked Engineer Scott, leaning from the cab window of the 1031. ‘‘He's here; and so is Mr. Loring. They're stopping at the Clarendon,” said Brodrick. . ‘“Then they haven't quit,” drawled Griggs, adding: “I wonder if they have a ghost of a show against the politicals?” < “Has anybody been to see fem?” asked Callahan. “There’s a notion for you, Scott,” sald Broderick. Scott was the presiding of- ficer in the B. of L. E. local. “Get up a committee from the Federative to go and ask Mr. Loring if tiiere’s any use in our tryin’ to hold on.” The wiper was killing time at a win- dow which comanded a view of the upper yards, with the Unlon passenger statio# at the end of the three-mile vista. Being a late comer in the fleld, the Transwestern had scanty track rights in the upper yard; its local headquarters were in the shops sub- urb, where the two division main lines proper began and ended, diverging, the one to the eastward and the other to the west. “Holy smut!” said the wiper. “See Dicky Dixon comin’ out with the flyer! How's that for ten miles an hour in the city limits?” It was a foot note commentary on the way the service was going to pieces. Halkett, the “political” gen- eral superintendent, had called Dixon on the carpet for not making time with his train. “If you're afraid to run, say so, and we'll get a man that isn't,” Halkett had said; and here was Dixon coming down a borrowed track in a busy yard at the speed which presup- poses a ninety-pound rail and nothing in 'g;e vmy,l = e conclaye has “"‘“i‘ at wiper's -"windoyw. B o “The dum fool!” sald Brodrick. anything gets in front of him—" There was a suburb street crossing three hundred yards townward from the “yard limits” telegraph office, which stood in the angle formed by the diverging tracks of the two divi- sions. Beyond the yard the street be- came a country road, well traveled as the principal southern inlet to the city. When Dixon was within two train lengths of the crossing, a farm wagon appeared, driven between the cut freight trains on the sidings direct- ly in the path of the flyer. The men at the round-house window heard the crash of the splintering wagon above the roar of the traln; and the wiper on the window seat yelped like a kicked dog and went sickly green un- der his mask of grime. “There it is again,” sald Scott, when Dixon had brought his train to a stand two hundred yards beyond the “lim- its” office where he should have stopped for orders. “We're all hoo- dooed, the last one of us. I'll get that committee together this afternoon and &0 and buzz Mr. Loring."” « Now it fell out that these things hap- pened on a day when the tide of re- trieval was at its lowest ebb; the day, ramely, in which Kent had told Loring that he was undecided as to his moral right to use the evidence against Bucks as a lever to pry the Transwestern out of the grip of the junta. It befell, also, that it was the day chosen by two other men, not members of the labor unions, in which to call upon the ex- manager; and Loring found M'Tosh, the trainmaster, and Durgan, the mas- ter mechanic, waiting for him in the hotel corridor when he came in from a late luncheon at the Camelot Club. “Can you give us a few minutes, Mr. Loring?” asked M'Tosh, when Loring had shaken hands with them. not as subordinates. “Surely. My time 18 not very valua- ble, just at present. Come in, and I'll see If Mr, Kent has left me any cigars.” “Humph!” sald Durgan, when the ex-manager had gone into Kent’s room to rummeage for the smoke offering. “And they give us the major in the place of such a man as that!” with a Jerk of his thumb toward the door of the bedroom. “If ‘Come off!” warned M'Tosh; “he’ll hear yod.” And when Loring came back with the cigars there was dry humor in his eye. ““You mustn’t let your loyalty to the old guard get you into trouble with the receiver,” he cautioned; and they both smiled. “The trouble hasn’t waited for our bringing,” sald M'Tosh. “That is why we are here. Durgan has soured on his job, and I'm more than sick of mine. It's hell, Mr. Loring. I have been at it twenty vears, and I never caw such crazy railroading in any one of them.” “Bad management, you mean?" “Bad management at the top, and rotten demoralization at the bottom as a natural consequence. We can’t be sure of getting a train out of the yards without accident. Dixon is as careful a man as ever stepped on an engine, and he smashed a farmer’s wagon and killed the farmer this morning within two train-lengths of the shop junc- tion.” ¢ “Drunk?” inquired the ex-manager. “Never a drop; Dixon's a Prohibi- tionist, dyed in the wool. But just be- fore he took his train, Halkett had him in the sweat-box, jacking him up for not making his time. He came out red in the face, jumped on his engine, and yanked the Flyer down the yards forty miles an hour.” ‘‘And what is your trouble, Durgan?” asked Loring. “Another side of the same thing. I wrote Major Guilford yesterday, tell- ing him that six pit gangs, all the roundhouse ‘emergencies’ and two qut- dcor repair squads couldn’'t begin to keep the cripples moving; and within a week every one of the labor unions has kicked through its grievance commit- tee. His reply is an order announc- ing a blanket cut in wages, to go into effect the first of the month. That means a strike and a general tie-up.” Loring shook his head regretfully. “It hurts me,” he admitted. “We had the best-handled piece of railroad in the West, and I give credit to the men that did the handling, And to have it wrecked by a gang of incompeient sal- ary-grabbers—'™ The two left-overs nodded. “That's just it, Mr. Loring,” sald M'Tosh. “And we're here to ask you if it% worth while for us to stick to the wreck any longer. Are you folks doing anything?” “We have been trying all legal means to break the grip of the com- bination—yes.” “And what are the prospects?” It was the master mechanic who wanted td know. “They are not very bright at pres- ent, 1 must corfess. We have the entire political ring to fight, and the odds are ovgrwhelming.” “You say you've been trying ‘legal means,’” M'Tosh put in. “Can’'t we down them some other way?. I belleve you could safely count on the help of every man in the service, barring the politicals.” Loring smiled. “I don’t say we should scruple to use force if there were any way to apply it. But the way doesn’t offer.” “I didn’t know,” sald the trainmas- ter, rising to close the interview. “But if the time ever comes, all you or Mr. Kent will have to do will be to pass the word. Maybe you can think of some way to use the strike. It hasn’t been declared yet, but you can bet on it to a dead moral certainty.” It was late in the afternoon of the same day that the Federative Council _sent its committee, chairmaned by En- theszgineersBcott; to interview the ex-gens erzl manager at his rooms in the Clar- endon. Scott acted as spokesman, stating the case with admirable brev- ity and comciseness, and asking the same question as that propounded by the trainmaster, to wit: if there were any prospect of a return of the road to its former management. Loring spoke more hopefully to the committee than he had to Durgan and M'Tosh. There had been a little more time for reflection, and there was the heartening which comes upon the heels of unsolicited helptenderings, however futile. He told the men that the stock- houlders were moving heaven and earth in the ‘effort to recover their property; that until the road should be actually sold under an order from the court, there was always room for hope. The committee might rest as- sured that no stone would be left un- turned; also that the good will of the rank and file would not be forgotten in the day of restitution, if that day should ever dawn. ‘When Loring was through, Engineer Scott did a thing no union man had ever done before: he asked an ex-gen- eral manager’s advice touching the ad- visability of a strike. “I can’t say as to that,” was the prompt reply. “You know your own business best—what it will cost, and what it may accomplish. But I've been on the other side often enough to be able to tell you why most strikes fail, if you care to know.” A broad grin ran the gamut of the committee. “Tell us what to do and we'll do it, Mr. Loring,” said Scott, briéfly. “First, then, have a definite object and one that will stand the test of public opinion; in this case we'll say it is the maintenance of the present wage scale and the removal of the incompe- tent officers and men. Secondly, make your protest abselutely unanimous to a man. Thirdly, don’'t give the major time to fortify; keep your own coun- sels, and don't send In your ultimatum until the final moment. And, lastly, shun viclence as you would a tempta- tion of the devil.” “Yon’s a man,” sald Angus Duncan, the member from the Amalgamated Machinists, when the committe was filing out through the hotel corridor. “Now you're shouting!” sald En- gineer Scott. *“And you might say a man and a brother.” CHAPTER XXIV. S Into the Primitive. Tested upon purely diplomatic prin- ciples, Miss Van Brock’s temper was little less than angelic, exhibiting itself under provocation only in guarded pin- pricks of sarcasm, or in small sharp- clawed kitten-buffetings of repartee. But she was at no pains to conceal her scornful disappointment when David Kent made known his doubts concern- ing his moral right to use the weapon he had so skillfully forged. He delayed the inevitable confession to Portia until he had told Loring; and in making it he did not tell Miss Van Brock to whom he owed the sudden change in the point of view. But Portia would have greatly discredited her gift of insight if she had not instantly re- duced the problem to its lowest terms. “You have been asking Miss Brent- waod to lend you her conscience, and she has done it,” was the form in which she stated the fact. And when Kent did not deny it: “You lack at least one quality of greatness, David; you sway too easily.” “No, I don’t!” he protested. “I am as obstinate as a mule. Ask Ormsby or Loring. - But the logic of the thing is blankly unanswerable. I can either get down to the dirty level of these high- binders—fight the devil with a brand taken out of his own fire; or—" “Or what?" she asked. “Or think up some other scheme; some plan which doesn’t involve a sur- render on my part of common decency and self-respect.” “Yes,” she rétorted. “I suppose you have the other plan all’' wrought out and ready to drop into place?” “No, I haven't,” he admitted reluc- tantly. " “But at least you have some notion of \;hat it is going to be?” “No. She was pacing back and forth in front of his chalr in a way that was al- most man-like; but her contemptuous impatience made her dangerously beautiful. Suddenly she stopped and turned upon him and there were sharp claws In the kitten-buffetings. “Do you know yeu are spoiling a fu- ture that most men would hesitate to throw away?” she asked. ‘““While you have been-a man of one idea in this rallroad affair, we haven’'t been idle— your newspaper and political friends, and Ormsby and L. You are ambitious; you want to succeed, and we have been laying the foundations for you. The next election would give you anything in the gift of the State that a man of your years could aspire to. Have you known this?” “I have guessed it,” he said, quite humbly. “Of course you have. But it has all been contingent upon one thing; you ‘were to crush the grafters in this rail- road struggle—show them up—and climb to distinction yourself on the ladder from which you had shaken them. It might have been done; it was in a fair way to be done. And now you turn back and leave the plaw in the furrow.” There was more of a like quality—a good bit more; some of it regretful; all of it pungent and logical from Miss Van Brock’s point of view; and Kent was mo rock not to be moved by the small tempest of disappointed vicarious ambition. Wherefore he escaped when he could, though only to begin the eth- jcal fight all over again; to fight and to wander among the tombs in the yal- ley of indecision fof a week and a 5 eight miserable twirlings of the earth in space, during which interval he was invisible to his friends and innocuous to his enemies. . On the morning of the ninth day Editor Hildreth telephoned Miss Van Brock to ask if she knew where Kent could be found. The answer was a rather anxious negative; though the query could have been answered affirmatively by the conductor and motorman of an early morning electric car which ran to the farthest outskirts of the eastern suburb of the city. Following a boyish habit he had never fully outgrown, Kent had once more taken his problem to the open, and the hour after luncheon time found him plodding wearily back to the end of the car line, jaded, dusty and stiff from much tramping of the brown plain, but with the long duel fimally fought out to some despairing con- clusion. The City Hall clock was upon the stroke of three when the inbound trol- ley car landed him in front of the Clarendon. It was a measure of his purposeful abstraction that he went on aroung the corner to the Becurity Bank, dusty and unpresentable as he was, and transferred the packet of in- criminating affidavits from the safety deposit box to his pocket before going to his rooms in the hotel. This paper weapon was the centering point of the struggle which had now lasted for nearly a fortnight. So long as the weapon was his to use or to cast away the outcome of the moral con- flict hung in the balance. But now he was emgrging from the night wander- ings amdng the tombs of the undecided. “I can’t give it up; there is too much at stake,” he muttered as he trudged heavily back to the hotel. - And before he went above stairs he asked the young woman at the house télephone exchange to ascertain Iif Governor Bucks were in his office at the capitol and if so, if he were likely to remain there for an hour. ‘When he reached his rooms he flung th packet of papers on the writing table and went to freshen himself with a bath. That which lay before him called for fitness, mental and physical, and cold sanity. In other things of stress, &s just before a critical hour in court, the tub and the wooden settle. +¥rnH"n——————— & the cold plunge had Maidenhood “You lissen at me; if that's the fact I'm tellin’ you all that every wheel on this blamed hoodooed raliroad is goin’ to stop turn- in’ at 12 o'clock on the night before that notice takes That ift their hold.” An ofl-begrimed Where flitting ‘wiper crawled from under the 101, s at the dope bucket and flung his bunch of waste therein, “Gur-r-r! Let 'em stop,” he rasped. *The dope’s bad and bad; and the old man has cut out the’lec- ‘Wooed by the I—IRENE GATHERING FLOWERS. . Come, Love, and pluck the violets while we Are like morn’s dewy flowers, fresh and free, smiles and blushes to the Spring, Come, sit beside the shallow brook and sing, fish leap up the current bright ‘And bending rushes glisten in the light. A rose bloomed yester morn, sister to thee, brecze and butterfly and bee— Ah, Sweet, thy careless, radiant eyes uplift! Bee how the rose lcaves show'r in dazzling drift! Time loves not youth, nor rose, nor thy fair face, Nor laughter gay, nor young May’s jocund grace! IL—“ET EGO IN ARCADIA VIXIL.” L Blue violets blow above here, and the merle r Sings o’er her head. Here runs her name with words ETHEL LOUISE COX, Néw York Times. Of sweet regret! but no fond line of light Footsteps that fell Hke music, of the curl Dazzling above her pale cheek, voice of birds, Of tender beauties lost, charms earthly bright; Whether her month was like a flower sprung In May—they only say that she was young! 1 8 ‘Whether by Love her virtues were possest Or breathed she hidden from divining eyes; The pride of household hearts or dear alone TIn humble beauty to a single breast; Whether the windless vales of Paradise— fields she never more shall roam— ‘Hold her, a wistful heart, a viol unstrung! ‘We dream—thex only say that she died young! Fairer than been his fillip where other men resorted to_the bottle. He was struggling into clean linen and the packet was still lying where he had Jtossed it on enter- ing when a bellboy came up with a card. Kent read the name with a ghost of a smile relaxing the care-drawn lines about his mouth. There are times when a man’s fate rushes to meet him, and he had fallen upon one of them. “Show him up,” was the brief diree- tion; and when the door of the elevator cage clacked agzin Kent was waiting. His visitor was a man of heroic pro- portions; a large man, a little breathed, as it seemed, by the swift upward rush of the elevator. Kent admitted him with a nod, and the Governor planted himself heavily in a chair and beggad a light for his cigar. In the mat passing he gathered his spent breath and declared his errand. “I think we have a little score to set- tle between us as man to man, Kent,” he began, when Kent had clipped the end from his own cigar and lighted it in stolld silence. “Possibly; that is for you to say,” was the unencouraging reply. Bucks rose deliberately, walked to the bathroom door and looked beyond it into the bedroom. ““We are quite alone, if that is what you want to make sure of,” said Kent in the same indifferent tone, and the Governor came back and resumed his chair. “1 came up to see what you want— what you will take to quit,” he an- nounced, crossing his legs and lock- ing the huge ham-like hands over his knee. “‘That is putting it rather ab- ruptly, but business is business, and we can dispense with the prelimi- naries, I take it.” “I told your Attorney General som¢ time ago what I wanted and he did not see fit to grant it,” Kent resp ed. “I am not sure that I want thing now—anything you can have to offer.” This was not at all what he had intended to say, but the presen of the adversary was breeding a st born antagonism that was more po- tent on the moral side than all the prickings ot conscience. The yellow-lidded eyes of the Gov- ernor began to close dowfi and the look came into them which had been there when he denied a pardon to a widow pleading for the life of her convicted son. “I had hoped you were in the mar- ket,” he demurred. “It would be bet- tar for all concerned if you had’some- thing to sell, with a price attached. I know what you have been doing and what you think you have got hold of. It's a tissue of mistakes and false- hoods and backbiting from beginning to end, but it may serve your purpose with the newspapers. I want to buy that package of stuff you've got stowed away in the Security vaults.” The Governor’s chair was on one Side of the writing table and Kent's was on the other. In plain sight be- tween the two men lay the packet Bucks was willing to bargain for. It was inclosed in a box envelope, bear- ing the imprint of the Security Bank. Kent was looking steadily away from the table when he said: “What If I say it isn't for sale?” “Don’t you think it had better be?” “I don’t know. I hadn’t thought much about the advisable phase of it.” “Well, the time has come when you've got it to do,” was the low toned threat. (Concluded Next Sunday.) JOE ROSENBERG'S. This above alls To thine own self be true, And it will follow, as the night the day, Thou canst not then be false to any man. —SHAKESPEARE. 2 The one store that advertises FACTS What you read in ouyr ad you will find in our La Bonita (THE GENUINE) The corset that made San Francisco women famous for their perfect forms. Circular cut, hand-gored, aluminoid boning. Rust proof and unbreakable, medium and low bust, dip hip, military straight front steel with two clasps at the lower end of the steels, double set of hose sup- porters attached; abdominal re- ducing, also hip reducing. They are made of XX Coutil in pink, blue, black, white and drab; made same as picture; each pair stamped La Bonita inside; 365 pairs in all. We cannot warrant that the quantity will last all day, so be prompt if you want one. To introduce these to our patrons the manufacturer gave us a liberal rebate. His loss your opportunity to get these Jn ROSENBERG The Home of Figure-Building Corsets 816 Market St. 1/ 0'Farrell St. EXPERT FITTERS IN ATTENDANCE.