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The Saguache Crescent
Saguache , Colorado
April 11, 1901     The Saguache Crescent
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April 11, 1901

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F. 5, iy Forsa =ing all Others AMELIA DUGH~MIN ~ CHAPTER XI.-- (Continued.) No one ever knew what passed in lbat ~nterview. Harvey briefly told hk wife he had begged for forgiveness ~nd gained it, but the old relations between Gl~dys and himself would never be renewed--she was through With the life of which he had been a p0~. When Helen throw herself in his arms in a passion of grief for hav- i~g done him hurt while striving only for his benefit, he kissed her sadly. It was all a mistake, he said; he had ~been the more culpable of the two. Together they would take up life un- der the new conditions, never allud- ing to the errors of the past. He was very kin.d, very gentle; but there was that in his manner and look Which told her Harvey, the boy, was dead, to make way for the grave, al- most stern man who henceforth walk- ed by her side through life, affection- ate and true, yet with the ineffable f~fagality that tinges the humblest mar- e with romance forever stricken om his love. Within a year after her departure ~ys was married to a man slightly Junior, whose wealth doubled hers. er beauty and vivacity made her the e~ter of a wide social circle, and hav- /~ been shut away from city pleas- ,~trQa so long she enjoyed them now .With childlike enthusiasm• Engrossed a bewildering happy present the ~t became to her a dream, and after the arrival of her first chlld, a half fOrgotten one. The house in Rockville was sold, and long years passed before she again caw Harvey. In the careworn man With stooping shoulders she found it diffiCUlt to recognize her once hand- SOme boy. He was only forty, but |lie had gone bard with him. There Were many mouths to feed at home, and all Helen's thrift could not make ~ve dollar do more than the work of O. • I~ug ago Gladys had wholly forgot- ~tten her grievances, but not the af- rOUen for which she had sacrificed ao m~h. Even now, though she had laa~y e~ns of her own, she loved her Unfortunate boy too well to allow him ~o endure anything approaching pri- vation, and with her husband's assist- ~ee secured to Harvey an annuity aat~cient to pl~ce him and his family 1tell above need. Phebe, an old worn- then, grumbled when the news tOld her; but really she was even her anger could not en- forever. And Harvey had been boy as well as Gladys'. Be all were in their way happy and t~t~ubtent~all but one. It is hard for e covetous soul to come near to for- Yet never grasp R; and even When better days had dawned, and ~ant was forever set at bay, the bit- knowledge that she had doomed r husband to a struggle with por- te,that robbed him of youth and . -and ambition was wl~h Helen &therton all the days of her life. (The End.) White Feather There is no need to mention the ~e of his regiment here. That is a that belongs to the army alone. it to say that his comrades are of his name. should never have entered the at all, much less a hard riding regiment which had a reputa- to sustain by a yearly tribute of necks and 'collar bones. proper vocation was that of a draper's assistant, and he had that occupation very satisfactory one evil day he had fallen in love a girl, a silly, shallow girl, at no practical man or boy would taken a second look. L'e adored her, and she adored sol- ~iers. Ih their walks abroad she would |lrect his steps toward the Horse or Wellington barracks, that might gaze in admiration at the ! strapping soldiers who were to there, and every time she arm and exclaimed: "Oh, lee, k, look at that lovely soldier!" his ~l~t gave him a pang at the thought he was only a draper's assistant, lth nothing in common with the lUllitary but the handling of red cloth! ~Ie was a dreamer by nature, and fall- [~gAn love did not lessen his weak- ~eas in this, direction. Dreaming is Pardonable in a poet, but an unpardon- tble crime in a linen draper's assist- ~t, and as he stood at his counter his ~ailld was far away from his work. In- Read of listening to the "Forward!" he could only hear word of command and blare of the bugles that sounded his dreams; wherefore it was' long before he came into conflict his practical chief. A few sharp passed. He threw up in three a position it had taken six unremitting labor to at- Then he enlisted. gained his title on his first dis- in the riding school, where, after Short ride on the neck of~the riding ~tsr's' pet buck Jumper, he turned u¢.athly pale and cried aloud that he U~ht be allowed to dismount. The horse at once gratified his desire by throwing him on to the tan, where hs in every limb, much ~y trembling diversion of a couple of rough who were standing by. They inform their respective | and, his former occupation being known, he was promptly chris- tened White Feather. In those dark days it was the Joy of the more hardy recruits to take him aside solemnly and request the service of three-pence three farthings worth of white feathers• Any morsel of down or fluff that might float into the barracks was promptly captured and presented to him with due ceremonies by Trumpeter Pipes, the low comedian of the regiment. The older men forbore to Join in with these somewhat tiring repetitions of a stale Joke• They remembered their own experiences in the riding school ' and recognized that White Feather was a quiet and inoffensive fellow, devoid of the impudence and bad manners peculiar to recruits and respectful and helpful to his seniors, The sergeant instructor, too, after a time took a fancy to his timid recruit, and took extra trouble to teach him how to keep hls heels out, his hands down and his head up. "I've made smart cavalrymen out o' bigger duffers than you," he used to remark encouragingly as he flicked White Feather's horse into a canter, "and I'll make a rider o' you, or I'll break your neck!" White Feather's neck remained unbroken so it Is to be presumed that the sergeant Instructor fulfilled his word, Presently he began to lose the hang- dog look of suppressed terror with which he had been accustomed to en- ter the riding school and to acquire the easy swagger of a cavalryman. His chest, contracted by long hours at the counter, developed under healthy train- ing. Fresh air and much exercise helped White Feather's development, which had been sadly retarded by the heavy, gas-laden atmosphere in which he had lived. His nerves acquired tone. and he learned to take a tumble now and then as a matter of course and to fire his carbine without shutting his' eyes and blanching at the explosion of the cartridge. "Blow me, if he isn't going to shape into a man at lastV' quoth the ser- geant instructor. Then a great blow fell upon' him. He received one morning a letter from the girl to tell him that she had given him up in favor of a shopwalker who had expectations of being set up in business by his father. She admitted that she had adored soldiers'and that she had caused him to enter the army for her sake. But she had omitted to state that the soldiers she adored were soldiers who possessed the Queen's commission and who wore stars instead of a worsted strJl~e. If poor White Feather was a physi- cal coward, he was a moral hero. There is no chance of a display of feeling in a barrack room so, like the Spartan boy of old, he hugged his trouble to him, slipping the cheap little engage- ment ring with which he had sealed his troth into his pocket without a sign beyond the twitching of his white lips. Then he lit his pipe with the letter, not out of contempt, but because there is little privacy accorded In the correspondence that comes to the bar- rack room, and a private soldier is not p~ovided with a desk wherein to keep his faded flowers and other sentimen- tal tokens of the past. The blow was a very heavy one, for White Featl~er was without the world- ly knowledge that should have told him long since that he had fixed his affections upon a vulgar, selfish and brainless flirt, and he still believed in her. For her sake he had learned to over- come his physical cowardice• He had dreamed of a possible commission in the dim future and had rejoiced in the recently acquired promotion as a step toward her. For her sake, too, he received the news cheerfully when the word passed through the barracks that the regi- ment was ordered to South Africa to meet the Boers, He knew that he was by nature a coward, but for the mem- ory of her he swore an oath to him- self to do his duty without sparing himself in the coming fight• $ * $~ $ * S S "Look 'ere, old chap, we ain't going to call you White Feather no more!" said Trumpeter Pipes as they lay to- gether behind the shelter of a lai"ge bowlder, against the face of which the Boer bullets were pattering like a heavy rain. In full sight of the whole army their squadron had crossed the Boer front amid a hail of bullets which had brought 20 men to earth. White Feather's horse had been shot under him, and, at the risk of his life, he had carried the wounded trumpeter into the shelter of the bowlders. He was unhurt, but trembled in every limb from fear and great exertion• From between two bowlders he peeped out and saw, amid the bodies of men and horses that littered the plain, a wounded man crawling on his hands and knees amid a spatter of bullets that were kicking puffs of dust from the dry earth all around him. It was his captain. White Feather watched him for a moment; then he saw him stop and lie down on his side despairingly, He could crawl no more. "I will. for her sake:" He murmured between his clenched teeth, and, rising from the shelter of the rock, he faced the hail of death that pattered to the earth aromid him. As he walked into the open a faint cheer reached his ears from the Brit- ish troops half a mile behind him. The Royal artillery ~acked him with • shrieking flight of shrapnel, which whistled for a moment overhead, then burst over the Boer lines' a quarter of a mite away in a shower of bullets that for a moment quelled the storm around him. He reached the wounded man, lifted him on his back and returned step by step to where Trumpeter Pipes lay hidden. The trumpeter gave him a faint~ "Bravo:" as he staggered and fell with his burden into the kindly shelter of the rock. Tl~at was White Feather's reward. On a distant hill the British com- mander shut his field glasses with a snap. "Tell the general to keep down the fire on the right there and get those men in from behind those bowlders," he said to his aid, "and bring me that man's name. If he is alive, tell him~ that I saw It all and that I'm going to recommend him for the cross. Never saw a finer show of fire discipline in my life!" added the commander to himself as his' aid galloped off. White Feather's eyes glistened as he received the meesa~ and heard the cheer that swept along the lines as he was carried in. "Perhaps I shall get that commis- sion after all," he said to himself; "then she will think more of reel" Perhaps' it was Just as well that he died five minutes later--this faithful worshiper of a goddess of clay. THRIFTY FEMALES. There are Many Remunerative OOeul~- tions for Women. One thrifty woman who had watched the vegetables and fruit rotting day by day at her grocer's, and which were a dead loss to him, proposed that they enter into an arrangement in the fu- ture whereby she should preserve and pickle his entire surplus, either for regular pay or upon commission, in the latter case he furnishing the sugar and spices. Another woman, with sharp business Instincts, a butcher's wife, made up soup stoc, k, and found a ready sale for it to many overworked hotwe- keepers, Still another, who knew but one thing thoroughly, and that was cookery, called every morning at cer- tain physicians offices and formed a list of families in which sickness prevailed. To these families she offered to come every day for an hour or so and pre- pare in their own homes mutton broth, beef extract, chicken jelly, panada, gruels, fruit and herb drinks, wine whey, custard, etc., furnishing her time and labor cheaper than the arti- cles could be bought at restaurants or women's exchanges. Some women are specialists in one branch, such as handkerchief embroidering, lamp- shade making, fan painting, feather curling, glove cleaning, and the like, or can make beautiful neck scarfs, or launder fine laces. Such can easily make their specialty pay, some by the aid of friends, some by the patronage of dealers in such goods, some by a house to house canvass made by them- selves. A young girl in one of the large eastern cities was recently puzzled by finding herself left almost helpless and homeless, with no talent in any one direction. There was but one thing of which she never tired, and that was of children, all of whom seemed to adore her; so this young girl went out at so much an hour to amuse sick and irritable children. Many a worn-out mother found her presence a most grateful repose. She was indefatigable in inventing new games and perfecting old ones, and her naturally retentive memory came also to her aid as a story-teller. It is the woman who takes advantage of opportunities, the woman who can plan as well as execute, whom the world wants and for whom it will push its ranks apart to ma~e place. GHOST SHIP. Spectral Vssnol Turns Out To Be ~ ]ff~-- veloUs Phenomenon, The American clipper ship Luzon, from the Hawaiian islands with a full cargo of sugar, had a strange ex- perience after rounding the horn. When off the barren Staten land, in good weather, and with scarcely an@' sea on, the lookout reported a sail• It was a~out an hour before sunset. Al- though the Luzon was almost becalm- ed, the vesseLslghted was under close- reefed topsails. This made the Luzon's mate think a storm was bearing down on him, and he speedily shortened sail. Rapidly the stranger came pear- er, and it could be seen that she was partially dismasted forward. In the meantime, however, the expected squall did not make its advent• The strange~ ship passed so close that it seemed as though a biscuit might be thrown on board. Still her crew paid not the slightest attention to the Luzon. On the latter consternation prevailed. The appearance of the storm-tossed vessel was so uncanny that the Luzon's men were beside themselves with terror. Not until it dawned upon Capt. Park that the other ship was a part of the phenomenon known as the "fata mor- gana," where a vessel is reflected a great distance, could he restore any- thing like order among the men. The most remarkable feature of the inci- dent developed three weeks later. When the Luzon was nearing the, equator she passed the Russian ship, Komisafoff, bound south, and her men had no difficulty in identifying her with the mirage they had witnessed. She had the same distinctive lines, and, sure enough, her foremast had been broken off close to the foretop, a Jury- mast taking the place of the missing spar. She had been reflected at least 1,000 miles, and the gt~rm which the Luzon's men ha~ observed had prob- ably wrought the damage.--Philadel. phia North American. ~landty Jane. the woman Indian fight- er, hunter, ~co~tt, poker l~la,yer, and miner, the friend of all ehe old-time famous sol- diers of the plai~s, and the heroine of a dozer~ lurid novels o~ the klnd t%a~ sell fo~ a nickel, is to end her melodramatic car~r in a.n all, shout. A dl$1~atch from Butte, Mont., a few days ago said that C~larn~ty J~ne had been admitted to the Jal~atin county poorhouse, and that ~e expects to end her days ~here. Calaxnlty Jane is not yet an old woman as far as years ~¢o, being only forty-elght. Bu,t ghe has outlived a dozen husban~Ls. and the hard an~ exciting life she led in the Black Hills and in the o'z~er mlnln~ camps of the West ,h~tve aged her long before her t~me, When the doors of the Galh~tin county poorhouse clo~e t~pon her the~e will disappear from the stage one of ~ most ptoturesque characters that i~he thrilling c~ays of the frontier states seer produced. C~l~nlty Jane has rm other name. She se~d she never had a~y other. "flees Catam'ty Jane," sl~e used to say when peopde questioned her about her name. "Jess Calarn'ty Jane. and folks gineraly oalls me Calam'ty fer chert. I ain't got P~o n~ore edlcatlon nor a buff'lo, en I aln't p~tty much, I 'low. but I can about a rifle with the be~t of 'em anal I've killed Its n~any InJuns as the next man." Celebrity Jane, like Dr, Mary Walker, atway~ w~rn men's clothing. It is dott~tful if she ever ~ a skirt on in her life, £0r even when a small girt her parents dressed her in ~lothing cut down from the old unlforff~ that the soldiers wore at the fort. She ~ always a~soclated wlt~ men and lived a man's life, and about the only pl~ce whe~ her "femininity cropped out w~s In the matter of l~aving hus- band~ She has l~ved ~II over the West. :Her home was o~iginally near Butte, and she Ires ~lways dH~ted back there after a few years spent at various etcher Western towns. But Deadwood wn~ the place she loved, aRd her r~ame is ~trongly inter- w~ven with the early days of that c~ty. Calamity Jane was born In Missouri. but when she was a small chdld her parents Journeyed in prairie schooners across the plains to a small mining to~vn near the spot on which the city of Butte is now built. Cal~mity's parents died when she was nine years old. and she was left with no one to ,take care of her. The soldiers • at the fort, which stood there in thoce d#ys had alwayn been fond of the child, and they adopted her after a fashion, paying an old woman to board her and sending her fantastic clothing to wear. She wa~ always around with the soldier men. and they taugh.t her to ride and shoot and also to gam,bls and s~ear. The old woman who was supposed to take care of Calamity paid the child but little attention .and Calamity turned her attention to "rustlin' "' for her own food• She u~ed to steal rides on stage coaches and go out and camp with the Indians for weeks at a time. says the Chicago Tribune, and was especially fond of hanglng around s~loons and being stood up on the bar and asked to Sing for the rough crowd of soldiers, tra!~pers, and miners who thronged those places. Alto- gether Calamlty's early life w~ singular- ly devoid of those gentle influences which are generally supposed to be quite essen- tial to the prosper training of a child. at the fort near Butte were ordered to proceed ~to Deadwood to rescue a large party of miners who were besieged by the Indians. Calam.ity. dressed like a man. volunteered to act as a scou~, and was taken along by Capt. Egan. the com- manding officer of the expedition, who was ignorant of the fact tha~ Calamity was a woman• All the Indians in the ,N'orthwest were at that time on the w~r- path and the soldiers had several hard fights on the way to Leadville. In one action, when the troop was chargPag the | Indians and had engaged tn a fierce hand to hand battle, Capt, Egan was wounded and tumbled from his horse• Two" In- dians were riding fiercely down on "-he prostrate man to scalp him when Cat- mmlty Jane killed one of them and. be- fore the other could clo~e in, had picked up the unconscious captain, and, throw- Ing his body across her saddle bow, dashed away with him and reached the main body of troops in s~fety• When Capt. Egan recovered conscious- ness he found out that his brave rescuer was a woman• She was known at this time merely as Jane, in spite of the fact that she will not acknowledge ever hav- ing an ordinary name. "Well, Jane," said the captain, blinking up through the bandages over his face, "you're a good one to have around In times of calamity." The sotdlers Imme- diately nicknamed the girt Calaentty Jane, and that title she has borne ever since, Calamity after tb2s In, dent went out with a good many different parties of soldiers oh the t~ail after the Indians and won renown for her bravery and her splendid shooting. She w'as wl'th Buffalo l~ll on many of h/s hunting trips and had a record of the rmmber of buffaloes e'he had killed. After the Indian wars she became a trapper, and then a miner and washed gold at Deadwood and all through the Black HLl~ and in Men,tab.a. and at variol~ times had large st~rn~ of money, which she spent in the same way the other miners did in these d~ys. She played in many a stiff ~ame of poker anr w~n /.rid lost large auras. She could drink as stiff a gla.-~s of the firewater they used to call whisky In the mining towns as any man did. She wore leather trousers and army blue shirts and a buck- skin e~t worked by the Indians. She never sought a quarrel, but ]~ever would go more than a thousand miles out of her way to avoid one. and was quick to avenge any insult to ~er sex. Ten years or more ago dime novel writ- era began using Calwmity Jane as the heroine of their tales, and small boys of that period read with breathless interest of the nmnber of °'eurse~ redskins" that bit the dust at the crack of Calaml.ty's unerring rifle. There were any number of these stories woven around Calamity and they bore lurid titles. There were "Calamity Jane and the Great Deadwood Mystery;" Calarrdty Jane's Double, or the Rival Indian Slayers of Redwood Can- yon;" Calamity Jane's Last Card. or the Bloody Murder of Poker Gulch." and "'Ca~aralty Jane's Revenge, or the Girl Scout's Great Triumph." There were many others with .titles of the same red color. All the stories were about of the same high order of llterarF excellence. Here is a sample Paragra~)h from the celebrated classic known tb messenger Rival Indian Slaye~ of Redwood Ca~. yon:" " 'It's too late.' said Da~haway Jim, as he threw his now useless rifle on the gro£~nd. 'We have not a shot left, and the curseed redskins will be on us ,a & minute.' "EEzabeth gave ~t scream and tl/re~ herself by her mother's side. "The Indians had drawn together in a group and seemed to be parleying• "Then they turned their horses' heard~ toward the fugitives, and. lashing their horses into a gallop, rode madly for- Weird. "Half-breed Bill. with a wicked smile on h~s face, led the charge. " 'There is one more s'hot in my pistol.* said Dashaway Jim. 'I can save YOU, girl, from that scoundrel." • " 'Yes.' screamed Elizabeth. 'better dl* at your hands than fall into the clutche~ of that wretch." "Dashaway Jim raised his pistol, where suddenly the ringing crack of a rifle was heard. The Indians paused, "Four of thean tumbled to the earth. shot through the head• "' 'Damnation[' yelled Half-breed Bill. and he tried t~o drive the Indians for- ward. "Suddenly the figure of a girl on a b~ black horse dashed straight into the crowd of terrified redskins. She held the reins of her horse in her mouth. "She had a pistol in each hand. "Six more Indians tumbled from their saddles. °' 'It's Calamttyy Jane:' yelled Dash- away JlnL '~'e kre saved.' "The Indians turned and fled. l~alf- breed B~ll d~sappeared in a cleft of tl~ mounta~n~. "Calamity Jane, with her drlppt~ bowie knife in her b~tt, rode up and lifted her hat. "' 'Good evening,' she said. 'I hope I don't in~ude.' "Dashaway Jim went ou~ to coun~ the dead Indians." An interview with Calamity Jane w~ts published in the Illustrated American m few years ago. She then lived in Dead- wood with husband number eight or nine . n~med Baker. In reply to a question she sa~d: "We're on our way East now. I'll tell you how I honestly m~rried this here galoot. Had to ~o clear to Texas to get him. Nobody 'ud have me here. We've been trying to live decent. Had a ranch out In Montana. Then we lived In a log- gin' camp and tried to keep boarders. Boarders didn't pay up ve~ well and we Jumped the caxRp, Went into town. Got proper~y, but the boom busted and left us busted, too. I'vs got lots of chances to go into shows and the like In the East. ~ut I guess not." ~hen the visitors went away Calamity broke down and cried and said: °'I'm so glad you've come. It seems so good to talk to somebody decent. I've been tough and lived a bad life. and like all them that makes mistakes I see It when It's too lkte. I'd like to be respectable, but nobody'll notice me. They say, 'That's just ole Calamity Jane,' and I've b~! enough woman left ~bout me so that i! Jess cuts, me to the h~trt•" But poor old Calamdty Jane has at last turned her hack on ~ll of her old-tlm~ glory and gone "over the hills to th~ When she was t~renty-two the soldiers boys ms "Calaznlty Jane's D'ouble, or the :J Fricnd i ea,.er a man stuck his head m• ere were other men behind him. Queer Acquaintance Made by a New Yorker in D~kot~,. [ I • he New York man bowed to an im- mense red-faced man who w~s Jus~J leavtn~ the bar. The red face beamed[ until i¢ outshone t~e huge dia~ntond stuck In the scarlet cravat, qMd the silk hat~ came off with a ~weep. "'Who's your fat friend?" asked the Boston man wl~o had been invited to &rink at the New York man's expense, ~bcoording to the Sun. '"He calls hlmeetf W~lson now. I've an idea he opens the directory and chooses a new name whenever it seems advisable. I knew him twenty-five years ago .in a little Dakota town, and he was doing business under the name of Johnson theui~Blll Johnson, grain buyer and tinhorn gambler. "I was a y~ung fallow and new to the ~est, bu*t was trying to hold dow~. a 'lumber yard for a Chicago fl~n, One] night I was in the office late wrestling ~l,th a trial b.alance when the back door ~pened and in rushed the queerest looking object I'd ever seen. It looked like a featherbed on a spree and cut loose from'its Cover. Naturally I Jumped up and ffr~bbed the thlns~ nearest my hand, which was the big ~nk well, but Just then a votes ca~e out through the feathers. "For God's sake, man, d~n't make the mess worse. Hide me scene~v~ere. I'm a friend of Mr. A's.' "Now Mr. A~ was my bo~s, and I didn't kno~ much a~bou,t h~s friends, B~lt if this was a specimen of thean I didn't like his tastes. Just then there wa~ a noise out~lde and the feathered biped plunfed undt" the counter in the dark iattie ba~ oflk~, ~ door elias1 and poorhouse." su!~pose he's a flash crook, hut I've an "See anything of a tarred and feather. ed scroundrel? He ran down this way, and we've got some more business with him.' "I didD't know anything about the row, but it doesn't seem natural to give a man away, so I Hod. and the crowd ~er~t on down the 'street. Then I plck- ed the queer bird out from under the counter. "They had used him pretty hard and he was scared half to death. He in- sisted that he knew Mr. A~ well and could get '~elp from ntm If he were there. I suppose the soamp deserved lynchlvg, but I was always a fool. So. finally, I h~tc~hed up my horse and buggy, wrapped the vnan up In some ~f my old clothes, and drove him across the country to a town on the other radlroad where he he/J friends who took him in. "He cut the country after that and I never heard of him untli almost two Years later, when I got a note warning me that I'd better draw out all the money I had in the little barrk there In t~wn. I didn't know wheat to think, but I drew out the money JuSt for luck; and I'm blamed if the cas~hier didn't abscond the next day with every~dollar the ~an~ held. "Some years adpo T came to New York to tire. The first person I met in the Fifth Avenue hotel was my old Dakota frfeud, minus the ~ar and feathers and plus a checked ~ut.t and a silk hat. He knew me like a shot. " 'You got your money o~t of the bank. all right?' he said. " 'Did you send me that note?' " 'Sure thing. I was in the deal, but I didn't like ~o see you hit. I owed you a good turn. Don't believe It's all paid off yet.' "He never hem anythlnE to ~ay to me, but h0 alway| look~ ~ad to see mS. I idea that if I needed a tittle money I cottld borrow ~t from him m~>re easily than from any of my Wall ~treet friends." Labor in ~i~. The~,,book entitled "The Real Chinese Question," by ~he~¢ter Holcombe, lon~ connected with the diplomatic servloe o~ the United States in Pekin. Presents in its Introd, uctlon some of the little under- stood phases of the Chinese oharacter. Our misunderstanding of them is hardl~ less than thedrs of us. He says: "They need machines to make work. not to ~tve it." A reviewer of the book In the New York Evening Post illustrates this epi- gram by an amusing exl)erlence of his own, He was witch a Chicago manu- facturer of machinery when he persuade~ the native superintendent of a f~etory in Hankow to purchase a machlne'Wh~c~ wotfld save nine-tenths o~ the labor In a certain process. When the factory wa~ vL~lted e~gain three years afterward, th~ lrmchine ~ there, but still In its or'~nal packing case, The superintendeht s~ld: "It is meet valuable where it is. Point- ing to it. with a threat of putting it in operation, strikes with p~nie and puts an end to all labor tro~bles with opera- tires." Labor saving devices in that country mean, for the time being, starve- , tl0n. The reviewer tells of a "steam- boat without any engine," the wheels be- ing set at work by fifty or more men working in a sort of trea~mdll that cov- ered half the deck, Buch pictures affo~d~ the Pr~l~etic a vision of what m~t~ k~ when these millions of pauper labor~ra are freely available in their cm~n country for do4ng the rr~anufacturlng of the r~ of the wo~ld.--Boston Herald. Railways use up over 2,000,000 tmm~ of steel per year--~lmost half tl~ world's product.