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Dutch A Carload of Prime Yominig YEARLIMG MDnON, Same as Sold Elsewhere as Lamb. Legs, small, lb Hindquarters, lb Forequarters, lb Shoulders, lb Shoulder Chops, lb London Style Roll, lb Stew Meat. lb Loin Chops, lb Rib Chops, 11^ This yearling meat will suit the m6st par ticular palate. Don't hesitate to buy it. Nothing else in the meat line may be had as cheaply as now. 10c 10c 10c 10c 10c 10c 8c 12'Ac !2%c Brookfield Creamery Millbrook Eggs, extra selected and graded for weight and size; in sealed cartons; each egg guar anteed ' fresh : 3^ ? ? ?. > . . . , . Selected Eggs, doz 4 J I* Fancy Sharp ^y(T\n Cheese, lb.... I-at Norway Mack erel. each New Sauerkraut, quart Be 6c Old Dutch Market, Irac, 930 La. ave. n.w. 3113 14th st. n.w. 8th and E sts. s.e. 31st and M sts. n.w. 7th and Q sts. n.w. iiii H st. n.e. 1632 N. Capitol st. 3420 Ga. ave. n.w. 1935 I4th st. n.w. 7th and B sts. n.e. 1778 U st. n.w. Decorating of the Most Effective Sort. ? We plan Interior Decoratin;? with a view to brin>rins out the most pleasing effects. The suc cess of our efforts is reflected in thousands of homes tb.it we have made more beautiful than ever. George t Coo Inc., Main Showroom. 1134 Conn. are. Workrooms, 1727 7th st. n.w. YOUR FEET GEORGES. If it is a matter of son-, painful feet, tuu can feel assured OEOK<JKS will prove tie master. There are inany aches imi "pains due to Iwd feet, hut ;is yet we have failed to encounter a rase that we could not conquer. r.KT ltll> OF YOl'H Corns, Bullions. Callous l*lu''es, Ingrowing Nails. Etc. CONSU.TATtON FREE. GEORGES & SON, inc.. Foot Specialists, .1214 F St. N.W. (Ladies' Maid in Attendance.) Many Men Use Derma tine After ving. Shav ?don't consider a shave complete without an appli cation of Derma tine. Excellent f.-r allay Ine Irritation. Keeps the face tirtn and smooth. X<i grease tu it to soli liu en. Bottle ? ^C W. & Frank C. H en ry, Prop., 70315th XO branch STOKES. A Narrow View. From the Cleveland leader. From the time of Eden, says Keir liar die, men have been hiding behind wom en's skirts. But the man who is able to hide himself behind them these days per forms a feat entitling him to admiration. ?H"!111 mitl-H-H, | THE BISHOP'S PURSE [j 4? By ?? 4 * CleYeland Holfett and 4 t OliYcr Herlord. % CHAPTER XV.?Continued. And now, in the afternoon silence of the woods, the curate pondered on the fate that had seemed to shape his ends so unprofitablv. Was there ever any one in the world less fitted to be a clergyman than he? Why has the silence of the summer j woods been so often likened to the silence | of a cathedral? They have nothing in | common. The silence of the cathedral is the silence of great stones frozen to gether by fear. The silence of the woods j is the stillness of innumerable sounds blended, as all the colors of the rainbow are blended, into the white light which is invisible. "Daddy Merle, how do you spell en joyed?" An Petronia looked up from her writing. He spelled it for her slowly and she said it after him. "Thank you, Daddy Merle." Again he found himself staring at the picture of the apostles. It fascinated him. It seemed to Merle as if the paint er's self were speaking to him across the centuries. "Do they look as if they were acting a play, these holy men that I have paint ed?- Has the spirit of Christianity so changed that the sacred commands of the Master must be explained away with strange words? Has the flock strayed so far that the shepherd's crook has come to be only a symbol, and the shears of the shearer a metaphor and the sheep fold a figure of speech? Have I painted my picture in vain?" And now the printed words of the text before him seemed to speak aloud, to call to him: "For I have given you an example, that ye should do as I have done to you." There was no mistake about the mean ing. It was a command; a command to be obeyed literally. If the church thought otherwise, then he must part company with the church. He could not serve two masters. He had made his choice, he would obey the call. The humbler the service his hands found to do. the more gladly would they do it. AN as.not that what Hiram Baxter him self had tried to tell them in his homely way? "It will make men and women of you," that's what he had said. Hiram Baxter was right. And then a great resolve formed itself in the heart of Horatio Merle. He would take Hiram Baxter at his word; he would tell him he wanted to work. He was willing to do anything so long as It was work, so long as it was helpful. He had been blind, and in his blindness he had tried to lead others as blind as himself. "I have lost my way," he said, aloud. He had risen to his feet and stood with head bowed and hands extended In an attitude that would have been theatrical if it had not been so utterly unconscious. "You isn't losted, Daddy Merle." He felt the clasp of her little hand. "Turn with me, I know the way." Together they walked through the high ferns, in some places over An Petronia's head, and through dim, winding woodland passages and secret stairways of mossy rocks behind the tapestry of ivy and convolvulus known only to An Petronia, until they came out on the Millbrook lane, just in time to see the last flicker of sunlight through the hawthorn hedge. CHAPTER XVI, The Desert Island. The night before the departure of the Baxters for Brighton the spectacle of a huge pile of packed boxes and the re port that the family were fleeing from the doomed mansion, never to return, had caused a fresh outbreak of hysterical panic among the remaining servants. And scarcely was the car out of sight bearing the Baxter party to the station when a deputation from the servants' hall, hatted, coated and handbagged and headed by Parker, waited on Mrs. Merle, as the senior representative of the fam ily. and told her that they were very sorry, but nothing would induce them to Kpend another hour In the house. Only out of consideration for poor Mrs. Bax ter had they remained until her de parture. For. the first time in her life Harriet, confronted by an emergency, totally lost the power of speech. When at length she recovered her breath and words were ready to flow, she found herself alone; the deputation had left the room, closing the door quietly behind itself. Half an hour later the station master at Ippingford telephoned to say that two servants who had arrived on the early train from London, on learning, at the station, the cause of the vacancy they were required to fill, had taken the first train back to town. As Harriet nut up the receiver, she heard the diminishing hish of wheels on the damp gravel outside. The sound died away and a sudden quiet came upon Ip ping House, a stillness that smote Har riet's nerves like the stillness that awakens the passengers on an ocean liner when the engines stop working in the night. To tell the truth, the situation was much the same, for with the ex ception of Anton, the chauffeur: Hester, the new sewing girl, and Mrs. Pottle at the lodge, there was not a single servant left at Ipping House. "What will Horatio say?" thought Har riet. To Harriet's utter amazement, Horatio, when told what had happened, remained perfectly calm; he even smiled. She stared at him open-mouthed. "Horatio! Have you heard a single word I've been telling you?" "Yes, my dear." "Is that all you have to say?" She spoke sharply. Horatio was removing his galoshes, muddy from a long walk. This operation had to be performed standing, as the only two chairs in the room were occupied one by the agitated Harriet, the other by the slumbering Martin Luther. As the curate looked up. clasping one foot in his two hands and hopping ab surdly on the other to keep his balance, he resembled some fantastic bird of the crane family. At any other time Harriet might have smiled; now she was too angry. Her white pompadour bristled and her eyes blinked rapidly, as if mak ing ready to leap at him. "It is incomprehensible." he said, at length, after depositing the galoshes neatly beneath Martin Luther's chair. "It is incomprehensible, my dear. In this age of aeroplanes and cinematographs and popular education, that any one should still believe in supernatural phenomena." Only by shutting her lips tightly and gripping the arms of her chair did Har riet restrain herself from violent inter ruption. When she spoke It was an ex plosion. "Horatio! are you crazy? Don't you understand? i.iere Isn't a servant in this house. There's no one to cook our luncheon, and. If there were, there is no one to serve it. no one to do anything, and you stand there and talk about aero planes!" ^ nere was a quiet about Horatio that, exasperating as it was, somehow dis concerted Harriet. She watched him si lently, resentfully, as he picked up the cushion on which Martin Luther was re posing and deposited it carefully on the floor without waking the cat. Sleepily conscious of the proximity of a sympa thetic hand, Martin Luther stretched his paws and extended his neck to be scratched, then curled up to sleep aaraln without having once opened his eves. Seating himself in the cushlonless chair, Horatio leaned his head against its tall, straight back. "No one to serve, no one to do anything." He was echoing Har riet's words; his eyes were resting on hers, yet hi* thoughts were far away, fixed on something invisible to Harriet? a faded picture in a tarnished gilt frame. A dim, arched room, a group of un couth. dark-haired men seated sideways about a long table on which were strange ly fashioned tankards and curious gob lets. At the feet of one of these qaen was One who kneeled upon the atone floor. His eves were sorrowful, his smooth hair fell heavily about kla MM J The Latest for Evening Dresses, Tunics ami Draperies ?It's the last moment in style 1 ?and judged by quality and J finish it will compare with \ many sold at $10. \ If special shades of color or J k change of style is desired rely J upon the stock of materials ; t here and our milliners' skill. \ Xo extra charge for the ; prevail throughout the millin ery department. Dolltown is to be made. Dresses?A Special Sale The Christmas Apron Bazaar Demands Space. Was silk ever more beautiful?ever as beautiful? IIow is it done?filmy marquisette is made to hold gold spangles and rich gold brocades. Showered upon a groundwork of lovely colors the sheen of the gold is like sunlight upon the rippling water, beautiful beyond words to express. 40 inches wide ami only $2.50 per yard. $2.00 Charmeuse, $11 $2. ?0 Crepes, S Hours: 8 to 6. The New Brocaded Charmeuse Silk. The New 4.Vin?-li-vk idc Brocaded in navy, taupe, pink and all the new Crepes. In black. Whit?> ?nd the new shades. 30 inches wide. street and evening shades. Velveteens, Cordoroy and Silk Velvets Suits, gowns and hats of these materials arc now ultra fashionable. Here in black and all the wanted colors. At $1.00 yard are all shades in Corduroy; at $1.25 and $1.50 arc Superior Velveteens: at $3.50 to $5.00 a yard is the finest collection in Washington of 42-inch-wide Black Silk Velvets. The "demonstrations"' of Corsets and the "Room-making Sale'' of Suits and Dresses are events proving instructive and money saving. Tomorrow's special program as follows: The department for Suits. Dresses and Long Coats has to give up space for Christmas Aprons?and a room-making sale is to create bargains. Dresses are selected for tomorrow's special sale. $25 Dresses Reduced to ?i $1.50 Value. $1.25 Value. $1 Value. 75c Value. At $1.00 instead of $1.50 yard, 46-inch-wide Silk and Wool Crepe Cloth, in various blues, browns and greens. At 79c in stead of $1.25 yard are Diagonal Cloths, Scotch Mixtures, Eng lish Whipcords and Serges as used in men's suits. At 59c in stead of $1.00 yard, 48-inch-wide Silk and Wool Plaids. At 40c instead of 75c yard. 44-inch-wide Diagonal Serges, in old blues, new grays, rose, brown, navy, etc. Note that lesser prices than usual are linked with greater widths than usual. Cloths for the Fashionable Long Coats. Black and Gray Astrakhan, 50 inches wide, at $5.50 and $6.00 yard. Double-faced Cloths, 54 inches wide, $2.00 to $3.00 yard. English Broadcloth, 54 inches wide, black and colors, $2 value at $1.50 yard. Sole Washington Agency Awarded Among the many are charming Charmeuse Dresses, showing the pannier and other new draped effects. Note the dainty lace collar and yoke, the satin vest and girdle, creating contrasting colors. More practical?the Corduroy Dresses in taupe, golden brown, navy and black, with collar, cuffs, vest and girdle of black satin with trimmings of rhinestone buckles. Another feature? the high collar giving the Robespierre effect. Other models, for afternoon and evening wear when full dress is not imperative, include pretty Eponge Dresses in American beauty, old rose, tan, golden brown and navy. Not one of these and the many other dresses to be offered at $15 were made to retaihat less than $25. Dresses at $25.00 to $40.00. ?They Were $30.00 and Up to $50.00. Dresses for afternoon and evening wear that will appeal 10 milady of discrimination and refinement. Satin Brocades and Charmeuse the materials, with brocaded velvet the trimmings. Please appreciate the very great reductions in prices! Girls' Dresses, $5.00 up to $20.00 ?for "Juniors" and "Misses" of 13 to 19. The practical dresses for college girls?of English corduroy and serge as used in men's clothes. $5 to $20?were $6.50 to $27.50. A corsetiere will be in attendance to l\ demonstrate these world-famous corsets. I \ anf* ^er knowledge of figure requirements V m Z.ijrv ) an(l *'le pr?per selection of corsets best xsem&em adapted thereto is at your service without II! fill an^ ?k^?at'ons on y?ur Pai*t whatever. II ill $5.00 $5,50 $9.00 'jji1 Hi | $5.50 Models. $6.50 Models. $10 Models. ti: H ' The object of the "demonstration" is J" ; ' | to introduce the new 1912-1913 models of kiy | | La Premiere Corsets to greatest numbers I IfeLJ in least time?hence the services of an ex raittily l)ert corsetiere and the complimentary prices. La Premiere?Its Features. A few years ago such corsets could only be obtained by special order at great expense. Each pair is made entirely by hand. The materials are the highest grade of imported fabrics. / The boning is guaranteed not to rust, and is resilient to ex treme pliability. The models are fully a year ahead of other corsets in style, each showing the straight-line Parisian effect. There are lengths and sizes to suit every figure. The luxury-loving woman, whether short, tall, slender or stout, can be fitted in a La Premiere model that will beautify and perfect her figure and lend correct style lines to the simplest or most elaborate gown worn over it. Tomorrow's Bargain Spots Told of Below Some of the laces are rarely beautiful and bargains goo l?T enough to secure, even if no immediate need exists. Baby Irish, Venice and Oriental Shadow Lace Flouncing:*, whito All-over Laces, 18 inches wide, in and cream; 18, 22 and 27 irches ' *; white, cream and ecru. Cf| (fMl) wide. Worth to $4.00 Q9 Worth to $3.00 yard iptt.W yard ?Jf 11 .3fO . Crystal Spot Chiffons, the latest Chiffon Cloths, all color* 4.". J. shades; 45 inches wide. "Xffjf inches wide. Worth fl.Od p.,q>r *' Worth 75c yard yard . OVt. j.; * j: Trimmings. Ribbons. -m Gold Lace, in two shades, 6 inches wide. Worth Ct] Kff]) $1.89 yard cPllo5>y Marabou, black and natural; used for evening gowns and mil- 3$(Q)<r? linery. Worth 50c yard Johnnie Coat Buttons: two tone; in two sizes. Worth /?<?)/? $1.00 dozen Rhinestone Slides and ffit] Buckles. Each. 25c to Brocade Ribbons, 7 in hes wide: in pink, blue and wliite; for sashes and fancy work. Worth ^1?" 75c yard H Dresden Ribbons: 5 and <> inches wide; with satin stripes; for sashes, hair ribbon and Christmas work. Worth to 59e yard... 5 to 6 Inch Taffetas, Moire and Satin Ribbons; the J;itpf-t autumn winter shades. Worth to fl 25c yard * $5.00 Value?a Fleeting Bargain Opportunity Also Ostrich Boas, in new blue. American beauty, taupe, white and black and white. Un usually good $5.00 values?at only $3.98. Marabou Muffs at $4.98 worth dollars more. Marabou Capes for as little as $2.98 and as much as $20.00. The Palais Royal The economy of two corsets is recognized by all women of discrimination. The new models of "W. B." Corsets are in styles, lengths and sizes to meet the requirements of every figure, from the young,-slender miss to the well-developed matron. Hours: 8 to 6, G STREET shoulders, and above His bowed head there wavered a thin, pale circle of blue white light. And this One who kneeled upon the stone floor was washing the feet of that other who was seated at the table. There was a look in her husband's face that carried Harriet's thoughts far away from the present, back to the first time she had seen that look and believed that Horatio was different from any other man, believed that, with her at his side, he was de&tined to do great and wonder ful things and to help to make the world a wonderful place. And what had he done? What had she done? Who was to biame for the failure, for the poverty, for the pitiful dependence? She won dered what was to become of them. How could they stay on here after the way Cousin Hiram had talked? To be sure. Cousin Eleanor had been kindness itself. She had kissed her quite tearfully that morning and hoped she and Horatio would stay with them as long as they kept the house open. She had even hinted at their visiting them in New York. The sound of a motor below coming round the drive brought Harriet to her feet. She ran to the window. "It's Cousin Robert and Kate Clen dennin," she exclaimed. "They ought to have been back hours ago. Robert will ' make everything all right. I will speak | to him at once about getting servants." ' She moved quickly and was already half out of the room when the sound of Horatio's voice halted her like an electric shock. "Harriet!" There was a tone in Horatio's voice that drew Harriet back Into the room as if by physical force. "What is It, Horatio? You frightened me." She pressed the palm of her hand against her side. He was standing before her; and the pinkness had gone out of his face. He took her hand -and led her gently back to the chair. "Sit down, Harriet." He seated him self in the other chair. "I'm sorry I frightened you. love, but you must not speak* to Robert Baxter about the serv ants." "Why not, Horatio?" "Because?because " He looked at her dumbly, his under lip shook and tears came into his eyes. Harriet began to be really frightened. What had hap pened? Why didn't he speak? "Harriet," he went on at last. "I im plore you not to speak to Mr. Baxter. I beseech you to do nothing in this mat ter." "But Horatio!" "I mean it, Harriet. What has hap-, pened in this house today is an answer to my prayer." "You're going mad. Horatio!" She tried to rise, but he drew her gently back. "If you do anything, Harriet, if you do not leave things as they are now in this house, it will be as if Christ came to the door and you slammed the door In His face." He was terribly in earnest, his voice was steady and his blue eyes met hers calmly: in them shone a light she had lovqd him for in the long-gone days?a light that rarely visited them now. "Do you mean," she asked at length, "that you want us to do without any servants?" He put his answer in the form of a question. "Harriet, do you remember the hap piest year of our life, when we had no servant at all except the charwoman who came once a week, when you made the beds and the bread and washed the dishes and I dried them, when you were the cook and four housemaids in one and I was the butler and the footman and the man of all work? I opened the bottle of wine when we had one; I made the flres, except when the coal bill was over due and there weren't any flres to make; I was the boots, too, and I cieaned the knives and polished our two or three bits of silver. And, when I'd nothing else to do. I wrote my sermons." The color came into Harriet's face and her eyes shone at the recollection. "You generally composed your sermon on the way to church. How you used to frighten me, Horatio! I thought every service would be your last! Do you re member the flrst time I locked you up on a Saturday morning to write your ser mon?" she added, smiling. "You can laugh about it now, but it was no laughing matter at the time," said Horatio. "I made up my mind I would open the Bible at random and take the flrst text my eye fell upon?and what a text it was! 'Can'st thou draw out leviathan with an hook?' Do you remember?" "It was the best sermon you ever wrote," said Harriet, warming to the re membrance, "though, perhaps, dear, it was a mistake to dwell on the Impossi bility of a whale's swallowing anything larger than a. sardine." "Well, it is true, isn't it?" argued Ho ratio. "That's what you told the vicar when he took you to task for it after the serv ice," laughed Harriet. "And what was it lie said?" Horatio puckered his face into a frown. "He informed me, Harriet, that it was the business of a curate to preach the gospel and not to lecture on natural his tory." The curate rose and held out his hand. "Come on. Harriet. He drew her to him and put his arm round her affectionately. "Let's play we're back in the old stone cottage at Chale, and you go down into the larder and see if there's anything for lunch, and I'll go into the dining room and lay the cloth." For answer Harriet, conscious of the moisture in her eyes, gave Horatio a swift, sidelong peck, which was to a kiss what the shorthand symbol is to a writ ten word, and, together, they descended the echoing stairs of the deserted house. <To be continued tomorrow.) The Cost of Living. From the Chicago R<>eord-Herald. Some interesting details are to be found in the government, report %n the cost of living, but as a whole it onlly puts into formal statement what has been known to every housewife and every observer of market conditions for the last ten year's. The bureau of labor's figures will be use ful for quotation and reference. What the public needs most, however, is to know how the high cost of living can be reduced. There are economists who say that It cannot be much reduced, owing to the great output of gold In the last few years and the probability that more gold per annum will be produced as scientific meth ods of mining develop. If this belief is sound an adjustment will come when everybody's income has been raised in proportion to the increase of gold, but that time does not seem near. Other students of the gold question, however, say the annual production is be and to diminish in a few years. The argument expressed in the phrase "the cost of high living" may have ap plication to many persons, and It is un doubtedly true that most of us would not like to live as our grandparents lived. But this does not explain the most signifi cant rises in prices, those of the barest j necessities. If crop reports i rove correct, j however, the harvests this year will sur pass any before known and prices of food supplies ought to go down The Boss' Favorites. From the Kansas City Journal. "The trouble is that my boss has fa vorites. You can't deny it." "I won't deny it. But have you no ticed that his favorites do all the hard work about the place?" QUITE OTHERWISE. Mr. Littleshrimp?Do you object to me on account of my size? Miss Dill?No, ob account ot you9 lack of size. PRESIDENTIAL ELECTIONS. XXVI?ELECTION RETURNS. V By Frederic J* Ha skin. Perhaps never in the history of the world were so many people bent upon hearing, as soon as possible, the outcome of a great political battle as last night. More than 42,000,000 people live in the cities and towns of the country having a population of 2,500 and upward. Add to these the millions living in towns and vil lages where there are telegraph offices, and It will be seen that more than half of the population of the country is with in the zone of telegraphic news of the election, and a census of election nig'ht might show that two-thirds of the homes within this zone were represented by some one who stood before a bulletin board, sat in a theater or spent the even ing at his club watching the returns come in. Add to these the millions of rural tele phones which are used to call up the nearest newspaper offices, and it is proba ble that more than two-thirds of all the people of the country learned something of how the election went before going to sleep last night. EJven in the little towns of four and five hundred population the moving picture theater was able to capitalize upon the universal interest in the result by getting the bulletins and throwing them on their screens. * * * It is certain that never before in the history of the country were there so many candidates di Many Names rectly interested in - ti 11 i the returns. It takes OH Ballots. flngrers on both hands to count the candidates for President and Vice President, and in the majority of states each ticket had its electors. Supposing there were an average of six tickets in the field in each of the states, that would represent 3,186 elec tors on the presidential tickets. Then, suppose there Is an average of three can didates for Congress in each congres sional disjtrict, that would represent a total of thirteen hundred men with am bitions to go to the House of Representa tives. Then there are thirty-three states which elect governors and other state officials, members of the legislature, etc. There are thousands of counties which select their local officers; thousands of schools and road districts which choose school and road officials, magistrates, su pervisors and the like; and thousands of cities and towns which join in the gen eral official-choosing program of the Tuesday after the first Monday of every quadrennial year. Some one has figured that more than a million Jobs are filled as a direct or Indirect result of the elec tions of the presidential year. When it is considered that this Is only one place to every ninety people, it is probable that the figures are conservative. The democrats felt that they were en titled to some enthusiastic speculation last night. No democrat under forty-one years of age has had the privilege of seeing his candidate win since he became a voter in presidential elections, and more than forty millions of the country's population cannot remember the day when the returns showed a democratic presidential victory. Of the nearly 23,000, 000 men in the" United States of voting age. only 11,000,000 were old enough to vote when the democrats last secured the country's verdict, if we except the con gressional election of two years ago. In the twenty years that have elapsed since Cleveland's second election there have been ten presidential ana congressional elections, and in all, before the congres sional election of 1910, it was the repub licans who could cheer the returns. w * * Yesterday's election was the first held under a completed flag. Since the last time the country First Held Under passed its judg t?_ ment upon the ac Completed Flag. count cf steward ship rendered by the party in power Ari zona and New Mexico have come into the Union, bringing with them six electoral votes. There have been three elections in the history of the country in which those six votes could have determined the elec tion. They might have given Jefferson the election over Adams. In the first Jefferson election they could have thrown the presidency to Burr, and In 1876 Hayes might have been prevented from winning even by the aid of an electoral commission. The rapidity and accuracy with which sixteen million votes are counted in a presidential year is not the least remark able feature of the election of a President. With ballots in some states so large that they look more fit for a billboard than for a ballot box, a comparison of the unof ficial with the official returns always shows a surprisingly small margin of error and remarkable care in conducting the count. From many thousands of pre cincts in the rural districts the returns come in over the telephone to the county seat, and yet, with everbody keyed to the pitch of the evening, there are compara tively few mistakes. * * The returns last night were the most elab orate in the history of the country. Every telegraph and tele Elaborate Flans phone company * it -n i throughout the for the Returns. Unlted stat?S lent Itself to the early announcement of the result, and every newspaper and press as sociation did its part. Of course New York led off with an election night crowd. It always does. A reporter, despairing of success in an attempt to portray the amount of noise made by the New York election crowds, in desperation wrote: "If 400 lunatic asylums had turned loose their entire list of inmates, and the biggest band of Apaches and Commanche Indians that ever gathered had been commissioned to help them i.mke wierd and uncanny noises, it still would have bfeen but the soft sigh of a lovesick maiden, as com pared with the noise that started below newspaper row and swept on uptown and across the Harlem." The clock and the sun give the west the advantage of the east in the matter of election returns. The voters of the Pacific coast can usually know how the Atlantic states have gone almost by the time the sunset land quits voting. California can not begin its count until several hours after New York has started counting. The voting machine is gradually extend ing Its field, and it is predicted by many that it will not be more than a decade until it will take the place of the ballot throughout the country. As it works like an adding machine and gives its totals as soon as the last vote is cast, it will enable the country to know how the elec tion goes almost as soon as the last vote is cast. In some places the voter is given the choice of voting by machine or by ballot. But where the two have been tried the voting machine has proved the favorite. In the early days of the republic there were no big November elections ouch as we know today. In the beginning only a few states allowed the people to have any choice of the electors at all?most of them allowing the legislature to choose the electors. And they had as many dif ferent times for choosing electors as they now have for selecting United States senators. Each state could select its electors at any time before the electoral colleges were scheduled to meet. It was not until 1828 that the people had a direct voice in the choosing of electors in all of the states except South Carolina, and South Carolina did not give its citi zens that right until it came back into the Union after the civil war. In the early days iirst one state and then an other would choose its electors, and it would be many weeks before the full number was chosen. Pennsylvania could know how New York voted before it be gan to vote. * * * Not until 1848 did all the states make their choice of electors on the same day. Before that, some of Adopt Same Day them would vote in in AH the Iatter weeks of ah omies. October and others on varying days up to the last of Novem ber. Therefore, elections returns as we know .them, were impossible until sixty four years ago. There are nearly a mil lion native born Americans living today who were old enough to vote when the present general election was an unknown j institution. Congress passed a law in | 1845 providing that the electors should be chosen in all the states on the same day, and fixing that day as the Tuesday after the first Monday of November. That accounts for the fact that the first election bulletins were given out in 1848, and it was the New Orleans Pica yune which started the idea. Gen. Zachary Taylor was a Louisianian, and the people there wanted to know how things were going. Hence the innovation. Of Original Writers. From tb? Idler Magazine. Critics have a habit of complaining that modern authors do not give us modern thoughts; that the writers of the present day repeat In parroting chorus what other and greater writers have written long ago. Critics are difficult to satisfy. They object to new forms and clamor for new truths. As well go rate your chef because, though he con stantly devises new dishes, he brings no new food. The trouble lies, not In your chef, but in nature. And so the trouble lies, not In your author, but In nature. New truths! And what, pray, is the mat ter?with the old truths? Do we tire of a > truth merely because It Is familiar? So It would seem, else why do we now wel come the maker of paradoxes who gives us truth wearing the face of falsehood? New truths are for the scientist. Old truths are more than enough to occupy an author. Let us eschew the paradox. It is a dangerous plaything, for it cuts both ways, and who knows but that from welcoming truth which wears the face of falsehood we shall come at last to welcome falsehood which wears the face of truth? Tiresome fellows these, say the critics, who tell us only what we already know. Tiresome, perhaps, but can they do us harm? Only by saying the same thing in the same way until our ears refuse to hear and our minds to comprehend what they utter. Truth Is something like the lady who rides bareback in the circus; the first time she jumps through a paper I hoop we think she Is wonderful, but when she does It for the tenth time she is already commonplace, and we grow impatient for the trained seals. That is the way it is with the critics. After they have seen Truth go through her hot>p for the tenth time, they clamor for the trained seals. It does not even amuse them to see her go through her hoop backward. And so they are vexed, and they tell us that the original writers are all dead and buried. Time Cures All Things. From the Boston Tranaoript. Peck?You will never get the dog to mind you, my dear. Mrs. Peck?I will with patience. You were just as troublesome yourself at first Columbus of the Pacific. From fhp X?>w York Tribune. The erection of a memorial to Jartte1* Cook at Whitby, where his ships were built and not far from his birthplace in Yorkshire, England, was an incident which might well have commanded t-h? sympathetic interest not only of fhe whole British empire, to whose territorial extent he contributed far more than aip\* other one man, but also of the Cnited States, because of his rediscovery of on of the most valuable of its outlying1 pos sessions. Gaetano had probably touch* <1 at Hawaii long: before Cook, but Spain had kept the secret so closely hidden that it had become practically forgotten even by herself, and it remained for Cook to disclose to the world the existence 'of those interesting islands, though in doing so he sacrificed his own life. There is no exaggeration in compar ing the exploits of Cook in the Pac(fi? with those of Columbus in the Atlanti for if they had not in all respects tli ? originality of the daring voyages of the great Genoese they were not devoid of that quality, and they were supremely fruitful of geographical knowledge and of lasting results to political empire, ? commerce and to civilization. Magel lan, Drake and others had preceded htm by 200 years, but during tln?se cen turies the vast ocean remained, save for a portion of its shores and coastal waters, almost an unknown sea. It wa left for him to dispel the tradition of the Terra Australis, to circumnavigate for the first time Australia and New Zealand and to win them for the Brit ish crown, to demonstrate the *ei arat" Insular position of New Guinea and to make known to the world the existence of the great Hawaiian group. Apart from these major achievements, his otljer exploration*, in the south Pacific, the south Atlantic, the waters of Alaska and around the coasts of NewfoundlaU 1. would also of themselves entitle him to rank among the world's greatest discov erers. George Meredith and Woman Suf Froin the London Chronicle. George Meredith, whose letters have just been published, was one of the pi oneers of woman suffrage in England, and, unlike Browning, he retained his belief in the movement to the end. Mr. Herbert Paul considers that the greatest service Meredith's books rendered, "apart from t^eir literary value, is tneir exalta tion of women in the economy of the world. The effect of his belief in the possible enlargement of women's sphere, and the development of their powers, was all the greater because it was subtle, be cause it reached the public through a few minds to whom Meredith at once appeal ed. and because it inspired confidence in women without parading t.'ietr claims ? ? ? The comparative freedom and in dependence which women now enjoy is due more tc Meredith than to parliament or to Mill." The Counsel?Yes. it Certainly is actionable to say that you stole a dog. The Client?'Then go ahead and su?. It wu only a pup. frage. HIS WOUNDED HONOR.