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Sullivan republican. [volume] (Laporte, Pa.) 1883-1896, March 27, 1896, Image 1

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.■umber
-ria last year
..-jio me serum euro was
most generally adopted—in New York
City.
It is reported that the constant vi
bration, caused by the heavy steam
and traction cars iu Paris, has caused
great damage, especially to tall build
ings, and many of them nro in an un
safe condition.
South Carolina has passed a bill,
which puts the life of any and every
tlog iu tho State at tho mercy of any
person who may catch it away from
home. Dogs oil their owner's property
may be killed for committing any sort
of a "depredation," and tho killer is
judge and jury.
It is aflirtued that a poem offered in
n contest for a prize to the Chicago
Times-Herald, and which took tho
prize, was a bold plagiarism from a
poem which was first printed in a Chi
cago paper more than twenty years
ago. The "author" was a twenty
year-old girl of Indianapolis.
Andrew Caruegio has aroused British
■wrath by saying that it would pay
England to burn up her railroad equip
ment and replace it with American
models. Andrew is undoubtedly right
if conveniences and comfort of travel
aire considered. "Evtry American
who is not an Anglo-inaniac that has
•ever tested their out-of-date traction
and tramway equipment will heartily
indorse Aj.drow," udds tho Atlanta
Constitution.
General Traveling Agent Stone, of
the C eorgia Southern Railroad, told a
Georgia rnrm recently that he had dis
covered nn electrical process for con
verting wou.l into stone. Ho could,
he said, petrify wood at a moment's
notice, and ho proposed to make a for
tune by converting the plank walks
common iu'Southern cities into stone
pavements. He also said that there
ought to be lots of money in turning
frame buildings into stono houses.
His statement was printed in some of
the newspapers, aud now Mr. Stono is
kept busy telling his friends that ho
was only joking.
Dr. S. Weir Mitoholl, in his address
at lladclitl'o College tho other day,
said: "One of the requirements for
admission to college should be a physi
cal examination, as it is at Amherst,
nnd during the college course the girls
should not be nllowod to neglect gym
nastic work, since regularity of exer
cise is of the greatest importance. But
it is a mistake for women to think that
they can keep up to the standard of
work that men sot for themselves. It
is this disregard of their natural limi
tations which causes so many women
to break down. Two very important
results of a collego training are tho
cultivation of the power of quick per
ception and tho habit of using the
English languugo carefully in every
day life. There should bo a ohair for
daily English in every college. A
most deplorable result of spending
four years iu college would be to lose
"11 interest iu the world outside of
books, and to let dressing the mind
keep you from giving eare to dressing
Ihe body. May this never happen at
Kadcliffe."
Treasury officials wero greatly sur
prised at tho eurelessuess of many
bond bidders, writes Walter Wellman,
in tho Chicago Times-Herald. In ad
dition to the 4(H'J bids received there
were several score of otlerings which
had to be thrown out becanse the men
lilaking them had neglected to sign
their names or fill in tho amount they
were willing to take or the price they
wished to bid. Most of these blun
ders were made by bankers aud busi
ness men, and there wero so many
tp«cimens that the Treasury officials
who opened tho bids wero forced to
woudor if their corrobpondents had
not been laboring under some excite
ment when they tilled out their blanks.
One bidder, a Western bunker, would
bo iu a pretty fix if the Department
were to accept his offer. He thought
be wus going to be smart and so start
ed out to make his bid for a million
road "at the lowest price offered."
But by some curious montal lapse he
wrote •'highest" instead of "lowost,"
nnd a greatly surprised and euibar
barrassed man ho would bo if Secre
tary Cnrhsle *vere to allot him his
milliou at 100,
VAN JSHfc REPUBLICAN.
. THE DAY IS D3N&
when the shadows fall,
10 day is done,
the crimson veil is drawn
the sunken sun,
?h the meadows, moist with dew,
I hie away;
hours of pleasure com©
he close of day.
>erfumes from the flowers
more sweet at night,
-ao dewdrops softer glow
In the pule moonlight.
So, tho hours of oare all 112 assed
With the sunken sun,
Joy corned springing to my soul
Whon (he day is done.
For thy ploasant faco I greet
And thy smile I see,
When across the dowy fluid*
I have come to thee;
Whon I hasten home, my love,
With the sinking sun,
All my sweetest pleasures come
When tho day done.
—Daniel J. D jnahoe, in Boston Transcript.
LITTLE SQUIRE'S SCHOOL.
| iHE village, with
[/ "\1 tho sohool and
v w everything in it,
/ properly belonged
r . to tho Squire J bnt
people called the
»cti B °^ oo ' the little
Squire's sohool,
because no one
j took fcueli an in
terest Li it as did
the little Squire.
Why, he would arrive at <;he sohool
every afternoon for weeks running
and leave his pony standing, with its
shaggy head halfway in the door,
while he took up his position beside
the teacher, and gravely regarded tho
boys and girls.
"Well, Charley, how's your sohool?"
tho Sq lire would ask, if he happened
to meet his son returning from the
village. "Corning on finely, eh?
Learning readin', writtin' and 'rith
rnetic, and sowing into the bargain?"
And then the Squiro would roar,
laughing; for ha thought it a huge
joke tho iutorest tho little Squire took
in the village school.
Even tho schoolmaster, Mr. Finch,
spoko of the school over whioh he had
presided for fifteen years as the little
Squire's sohool. But many and many
a time the good man eaid to himself:
"He's a fine, manly little fellow, the
little Squire; bnt I'm feared he'll be
spoiled. 'Tisn't moro'n human nature
that the littlo Squire should be spoiled,
with the Squiro himself willing to run
at the lad's beck nnd call, almost, and
the children hero at the school fairly
worshiping. A fine, fine lad ; but 'tis
a pity." Tho schoolmaster said all
this, however, before a certain occur
rence and its sequel down at the littlo
Squire's school.
This is how it was. The little Sqnire
stood as stnight as a soldier in front
of a long line of boys and girls. He
held a spelling book in one hand and
a ruler in the other; tho little Squire
was fond of slapping the book with tho
ruler. The schoolmaster was smiling
as he sat idle at his desk.
The littlo Squire turned back the
leaves of the spelling book and gave
out the word "Bowl!"
Seated at the head of the bench,
with her eyes fastened upon the littlo
Squire, was a little flaxen-haired girl
wearing a queer, voluminous frock and
a skimpy print apron. Sho was nn
odd-looking, eagor little girl and sho
spelled very quickly "B-o-1-1."
"That isn't right," said the little
Squire.
The little girl's face grew red and
white by turns, a bright gleam came
into her blue eyes and she showed one
dimple in her left cheek.
"Ann Elizabeth," called out Mr.
Finch, in a warning tone.
"Next," cried the little Squire.
"B-o-w-1, bowl," said tho second
littlo pupil, emphatically.
"Go head," ordered tho little
Squire. Then he looked at Ann Eliza
beth ; she was actually muttering that
it wasn't fair.
"You're a very bad girl, Ann Eliza
beth," said tho lad. "1 think you for
get who is teacher to-day."
Then Ann Elizabeth shocked every
one iu the school. She burst into im
pudent laughter.
"You're a common girl, Ann Eliza
beth," cried the little Squire, energet
ically ; "and I won't teach this class
any more till Mr. Finch sees that you
mind your manners."
And with that the lad tossed the
spelling book across to the teacher's
desk, darted out of the schoolhouse,
mouutod his pony, looking uncon
cernedly into tho room, and rode
away in high dudgeon.
"I'm astonished at you, Ann Eliza
beth," said Mr. Finoh, sternly. "I
was uuder tho impression that you
were a well-behaved girl."
The spelling class was for the most
part dumbfounded; but still that dan
gerous dimple showed itself in Ann
Elizabeth's left cheek, and still her
uyes gleamed.
"I know I'm a common girl," said
Ann Elizabeth, as she trudged home a
quarter of an hour after the other
children ; "but I know it's worse to
oall a person what they is than what
they isn't; and I know that word boll
was right. I'll be oven yet with tho
little Square."
About a week later the little Squire
overtook Ann Elizabeth as she was
walking aloup the lane. He rode verv
slowly as be came up to her, for lie
wanted Ann Elizabeth to beg his par
don ; he wanted to give out some more
lessons at his school. Then the shaggy
littlo pony of its own aeoord stood
still by the side of Ann Elizabeth.
The little Squire lifted his cap and
said "Good-morning."
Ann Elizabeth curtesiqd.
"i know I'm a common girl, Square
Charley," she said, suddenly.
'i'ilOH'UjJOU the littlo Sqmre, who
LAPORTE, PA., FRIDAY, MARCH 27, 1896.
was really of a very generous nature
and who kuew nothing of Ann Eliza
beth's dangerous dimple, cried out,
impetuously:
"Oh, I shouldn't have called you
that; I'm very sorry that I called you
that. But I'm glad to bear you ac
knowledge you were wrong, Ann Eliz
abeth," he added, in a superior way;
for i»t times the little Squire was ex
ceeding pompous.
"The word you give out is spelled
two ways," said Ann Elizabeth, slowly
and distinctly, "b-o-1-1 and b-o-w-1." „
"That may be, Ann Elizabeth," re
turned the little Squire, determined
not to lose his temper; "but it was
only spelled one way in the spelling
book."
"Then tho spelling book's the dumb
est thing I ever heered of," cried Ann
Elizabeth.
"That may be, Ann Elizabeth," ac
quiesced tho little Squire; "but I
scarcely think you and I are called
upon to disouss the question."
He looked so very little seated up
there upon his pony, and his words
seemed so very big that for a moment
Ann Elizabeth almost gave up her
idea of getting even; but she had been
head in the spelling class three months
all but two days, and her grandmoth
er had promised her a new calico
frock if sho stood head at tho end of
the third month; and although Ann
Elizabeth's frocks were voluminous
aud came almost down to her heels
she was immensely proud of a new
one.
"I'm a common girl, I know that,"
repeated Ann Elizabeth; "and you're
a fine little gentleman, everybody
knows that, and I got a grandmother
dnd eo hev you."
She was looking over the back of
the shaggy pony, far away from the
little Squire's honest eyes.
Tho little Squire was going to be an
gry, but he smiled instead.
"That's so, Ann Elizabeth," he said.
"I've got a grandmother, and so have
you."
"My grandmother," said Ann Eliz
abeth, looking wickedly into tho won
dering face of tho little Squire, "helps
with tho baby and bakes pies and does
a turn most everywhere; you can't go
by the house you dou't hear her sing
in'. Onct your grandmother went a
potterin' 'round at Farmer Hath
nway's, workin' hard as anybody 'fore
she married the Square's father; now
you keep her lack sho was a chiny tea
pot or some'n; dress her in silk, and
a'most set her in a chair. She do look
lack a chiny doll, sur° 'nough, settin'
wishin' tho Lord'd teck her. Little
Square, my grandmother pities your
grandmother; hear that?"
Tho shaggy pony kept its feet plant
ed in the middle of the lano as the
little Squire's indignant eyos followed
tho figuro of Aun Elizabeth going on
to hiß sohool.
Tho trees mot overhead in tho avo
nue up which tho little Squire gallope.l
his pony. Ho had muttered "china
toapot" and
fore he persuaded tho pony to leave
that spot in tho lane, and his face was
aflame as he galloped up the uvanuo.
"China teapot I China doll, in
deed I"
The littlo Squire w.is iu an irritable
mood a* ho mounted the hall steps.
Everything abont him was elegant as
he had always remeinberod, large,
comfortable and elegant; aud yet ho
never tor a moment doubted the words
Ann Elizabeth referring to his grand
mother "potterin' round at Farmer
Hathaway's." Ho entered tho back
parlor where ha knew his grandmoth
er was suro to bo; but he did not spoak
to her, he just went to tossing about
the papers on the center table. Be
ing angry with the common little girl
ma'lo him augry with the whole world.
But never in his short life had the
\ittlo Squire remained angry for a long
time. All at once he raised his eyes
from the scattored papers aud re
garded his grandmother. Hho must
have seeu him when he first came iu,
but she was not thinking of him now ;
she was sitting in her rocking chair at
tho wost wiudow. No, he was not
angry, but Ann Elizabeth's words
wore ringing in his ears: "Dross her
in silk and set her in a ohair,
She do look lack** chiny doll sure
'nough." Was hi* grandmother sit
ting there wisfiing tho Lord would
take her? Then the little Squire hid
i his face for a moment iu his arms ; for
; even as he had galloped furiously past
Aun Elizabeth's home he had heard
the useful old grandmother laughing
und singing to tho baby. And that
old grandmother pitied his grand
mother Ho walked softly aoross the
room and stooped and kissed the littlo
old lady, "You dou't want togo Heav
en yet a while, do you, Grandmoth
er?" he asked, anxiously.
She started guiltily, her shrunken
little face ilushing. "It's very nice
down here, Charley," she said, smooth
ing out her gown.
"Is it made of silk?" questioned the
boy, following the movement of his
grandmother's hand.
"Yes l , dear, it's made of silk—fine
silk," sho murmured.
"But you don't fool like—like you
was a china doll, do you, Grandmoth
er?"
"A china doll," repeated tho old
ln l", in a tremulous tone—"a china
doli. Who says that, Charley?"
But the little Squire hung his head.
Ho never intondud to toll of Anna
Elizabeth.
As the day went by the lad did not
go again to the villago sohool; instead
he set diligontly to watohing his little
china doll grandmothor ; for that wax
the way she began always to appear
in bis thoughts. He wondered how it
would bo to grow old and sit s.»j. ..u 1
have nothing to do. Some people, of
course, might like it, but not a person
who had onoe been busy, not a person
who had gone "potterin* ronud at
l''armer Hathaway's." His grandmoth
er used to take np her knitting uo-vi
«ions!ly; liat she dulu't care for knit-
H I'tittujunl livr HugCf*. Homo
times—this the little Sqnire notioed
with a great linking of his heart—the
little grandmother sat at the western
window and cried softly to herself.
One day the little Sqnire kissed th«
little old grandmother right where the
tears were settling on her cheek, and
oried out, in his impulsive way,
"Grandmother, did yon use to like to
work ?"
"Like to work, Charley?" she asked,
faintly. And then of a sadden the
little grandmother was quivering and
crying and laughing all at once, as she
told tho little Squire abont her past
usefulness and, bow she was wont to
"fly around the honse." "And now,"
she added, "I've nothing to do, noth
ing whatever to do, no more than if 1
wasn't in the world. But it's all right;
yes, > i course it's all tight,*' she went
on; "I'm the Squire's mother, And I'm
proud and happy ;*' and then the poo*
little grandmothor, from something
she saw in the little Squire's big blue
eyes, hid her little, old face in her
little, old, useless hands, and fell to
sobbing like a baby.
Ten minutes later the little Squire
knocked boldly at his father's study.
"Come in I" roared the Squire.
When the little Squire, thus hid
den, opened tho door ho fonnd his
mamma idling away the Sqnire's time
to the Sqnire's infinite satisfaction
The lad walked resolutely to his fath
er's desk, and determination in his
blue eyes, his lips pressed together.
"I've just been with grandmother,"
he began ; "sho isn't happy here. I
say, grandmother ought to be made
awfully happy, she's so little and she's
so good."
Thereupon the Squire was for rush
ing off to the back ptrlor to find out
what was the matter; but his wife put
her hand on his aud bade him ask the
littlo Squiro to explain.
"Mother unhappy in ray house?'*
fumed tho Sqnire. "What do you
mean, Charley?"
"She's got to have something to do,"
said tho littlo Squire, boldly. She and
I have got to take care of tho parlors
or some'n; sho mustn't sit still all day
any longer." Then the lad's bravery
deserted him, "It's true, Mother,"
he sobbed out, "my grandmother's
treated liko she was a china doll, and
Ann Elizabeth's grandmother makes
the whole house chippy."
The Squire's mouth and eyes were
both open "very wide. "Clean tho
parlors I" ho gasped. Mother would
n't like that; that's servant's work."
Then, as if he might solve the problem
in another way, he inquired, anxiously,
"Who's Ann Elizabeth?"
The little Squire's mother answered
for him, with a fniut saailo. "Sho's
one of tho children down at tho little
Squire's school."
•'We'd just dust," 6aid the little
Squire, perseveringly? "I'd dust the
piano legs while Grandmothor dust tho
chairs. Sally never half dusti, any
way. And Grandmother and I could
have a flower bed back |of tho parlor
windows; that wouldn't bo servant's
work, Fathor." The littlo Squire al
most stuttered in his eagerness, whilo
tho big Squire's amazement grew and
gfew.
But tho lad's mother had her arras
about him. "The littlo Squire may bo
right," she said softly ; "we must lot
him do what he can to make Grand
mother happy."
It was a happy day for the littlo,old
grandmothor whon, onvoloped in a
white aprou, she dusted the center
table in tho front partor. The little
Sqnire sat under tho piano feasting
his eyes upon her before he vigorously
dusted the legs. And that flower bed
under the baok windows; why, from
tho very beginning it brought the
laughter iuto Grandmother's littlo
wrinkled face.
The little Squire entered his school
very gravely ono morning toward the
close of the third term. It al
most seemed as if he had been
neglecting his duty; Le hadn't been
near there for over four weeks.
The common little girl hung
down her head when she saw him.
The little Squire had never told of
her, and sho felt ashamel and repent
ant. Tho schoolmaster smiled in
hearty welcome.
"I'd lilie to hoar the spelling class,
Mr. Finch, if you don't mind," said
the little Squire; and the schoolmas
ter smiled again and held out the book,
"I'm goiug to skip about," said tho
little Squiro.
It was a long time before the little
Squire selocted a place in the spelling
book. Then he looked at Ann Eliza
beth, who stood at the head.
"801l I" ho said.
"B-o-w-l," answered Ann Elizaboth,
iu a low voice.
"Thore are two ways of spelling
that word," said the little Squire,
looking far away over Ann Elizabeth's
meek head; "I didn't know it the
other time; this word's spelled the
other way, but both ways are right.
If I'd know I wouldn't have made Ann
Elizabeth go down."
Then the littlo Squire's eyes fell on
Ann Elizabeth, abject and miserable.
He saw the flaxen head bowed away
down over tho bib of the funny littlo
apron. Ho knew that Ann Elizabeth
was just as sorry as she could be.
But, somehow, the little Squire was
just as glad as he could be. "Ann
Elizabeth," be said, in a friendly
fashion, "you ought to see my grand
mother and mo dusting tho parlor
furniture; yon ought to see ns I And
we've started a flower bed; we're
going to have every kind of flowor.
You must come up and see it some
times."
Then, to the amazemont of the spell
ing olhhr, the little Squire held out
his aristocratio hand to the common
little girl, as if sho were a great lady
or somebody whom he respectod very
much, aud Auu Elizabeth took it and
laughed bashfully.
And Mr. Finoli looked on affeotion
tl« iy Jroiu hi 4 Kjat nt th«* teacher's
ilf- . down in the litilc Squire'* I'ohocl.
-The Independent
THE MERRY SIDE OF LIFE.
STORIES THAT ARB TOLD BT THE
FUNNY MEN OF THE PRESS.
An Advantage of the Sterner Sex—
A Tale of Adventure—Keeps Right
On—Two Wishes, Etc., Etc.
Though a man has fourteen rockets,
And n woman has but ono,"
He can go through all ot hisn
While her search Is just begun!
A TALE OP ADVENTURE.
"Hello, Billy, where's your wife?"
"She's gone on a whaling expedi
tion up in tho nursery."—Chicago
Record.
KEEPS RIGHT ON.
Passenger (on the vestibule limited)
—"Porter, does this train stop at
Dinkeyfillo?"
Porter—"No, sali; she doan* even
hesitate dar, s&h."—Harper's Bazar,
TWO WISHES.
Mister—"Oh, dear! I wish I could
get hold of some good biscuits like
mother used to make for me."
Missus—"And I wish I could get
some good clothes like fntber used to
buy for me."—lndianapolis Journal.
HANDICAPPED HIMSELF.
"You have the reputation of being
a shrewd business man,'* remarked
the friend of a young real estate
boomer.
"Yes," was the reply. "It's getting
so that when I offer a man a genuine
bargain he takes it for granted that I
am getting the best of him."—Wash
ington Star.
FJHE MISJUDGED HIM.
Mrs. Hardhead (glancing over let
ters) —"This youDg man who applies
for n situation has the stamp on
crooked, and it's upside down. Doesn't
that indicate he is lazy, careless and
perbaps cranky?"
Mr. Hardhead (an old business
man) —"No, my dear, it indicates
that he is a hustler who wastes no
time on trifles."—Pearson's Weekly.
MNEMONICS.
Professor A.—"Would you believe
it, my dear colleague, I actually do
not know the ages of my children!"
Professor B. "Such a thing could
never happen with me. 1 was born
2300 years after Socrates; ray -wife
1800 years after tho death of Tibetius;
our son Leo, 2000 years'alter the pro
mulgation of the Liciuian laws by Ti
berius Semproui-is Gracchus, anil our
Amanda 15U0 years after the com
mencement of the great Migration.
Very simple, is it not?"—Zondaas*
blad.
THERE ARE OTHERS.
Mr. Cityman—"l say, Mr. Meddere,
the advent of the bicycle and the con
sequent decline of the horse must havo
hurt you farmers considerably by cut
ting off the demand for one of your
ohief products."
Mr. Medders—"What product is
that?"
Mr. Cityman—"Why, it must be of
little use to raise oats now I"
Mf. Mcdders-- : "Yes; that's sol Tho
bicycle has dono us on that j but when
one door shuts another always opens.
We raise the arnica plant now.—
Puck i
A STRANGE EXPERIENCE.
First Department Official—"l had
a strange experience to-day —very
6trange."
Second Department Official--"Yon
look a.s if you'd seen a ghost. Come,
tell mo the story i anything to relieve
tho monotony. '
"It is not a ghost story."
"Well, well; out with it."
"A man came to me to-day to ask
about a matter which 1 couldn't refer
to any other department, and I actu
ally had to attend to it myself."—
Sketch.
NOT DISPOSED TO QUIBBLE.
While the two urchins who had ad
journed to the alley in tho rear of tho
baru to tight were stripping for ac
tion, tho larger ono said:
"Kid, I'll lot ye off if ye're 'fraid. I
flan liok ye ill two minutes; I'm ted
pounds heavier'n you be."
"That's all right," responded the
other. "If you'd wash the dirt off'n
that mug o' your'n we'd weigh 'bout
the same."
The tight that immediately followed
was the fiercest ono the neighborhood
had seen for mnnv a day, and it is
with a melancholy satisfaction the his
torian records the fact that tho smaller
boy whipped.—Chicago Tribune.
WHY HE RAN.
Major MoLanghliu put a new man
at work at his miuo the other day dry
ing out dynamite.
"Xow," said he, by the woy of ex
plauatioD, "you've got to keep you*
eyo On that thermometer in the heater.
If it gets above eighty-five, you're lia
ble to hoar a noise around here. When
it reaches eighty-two degrees, you'vo
got just three minutes in which to
work, for it takes three minutes fcr it
to rise to eighty-five."
An hour later the Major returned to
see bow the man at the heater was do
ing.
"Well, how is it getting along?" ho
inquired.
"Oh, first-rate."
"Do you watch that thermometer?"
"You bet your life I do, and I'm
keeping hor down."
H« reached into the heater, pulled
out the thermometer.
"Whew I She's up to eighty-four,"
he remarked. "There, that'll fix it!"
He jammed the thermometer into a
bucket of cold water nud liuug it bnek
on the heater. Then lie wondered
wlint MoLanghliu was |iii|Uitt|T for.-,
tjf u i'muii-cu J'wt,
Terms.-il.oo in Advance; $1.25 after Three Months.
THK BEHIKMNH—IBO2.
This is the beginning of a Democratic era, and ' ..ocratic Senators arc
chosen to attend to the public business, not to own.—N. Y. World.
NoTomb;r 25, 1892.
AND THE ENO-1808.
J"'' i' i
Wc may now aid that this is the end of a Democratic eya, and Damosrat
io Senators aro chosen to attend to their own business, not to that of the'
public.
HITS HOP GBOWERS.
DEMOCRATS WANT FREE HOPS
KOIt BRITISH BREWERS.
Kicking American Ilop Meu When
Tlioy Arc Down—Hard Times
Cause it Oeerense In Consumption
tof Beer—Brewery Dividends Be
low I'rospeelus Promises.
The New York Times every now and
again has a dig at the unfortunate hop
growers. Its latest, January 27, 1896,
was as follows:
"If tho hop growers of the United
States can cell 17,001),000 poulids in
Europe, meeting foreign hop growers
there on even terms, withontany pro
tection whatever, it is nonsense to pre
tend that they cannot more easily
undersell these foreign hop growers
hero ftt home, either with or without
the juriff protection of the present
Nobady ever pfcteflded that tlie
American hop growers "caniictt mory
easily undersell these foreign hoy
growers here at home." Of course
they can. Tlioy can giva away their
hope if they wiint to, and thus control
tho homo market. That Would snit
tbe British I rewfis' i-yndicatte which
control most of our breweries, and, ad
their dividends h;ve been pretty low
lately and not up to prospectus pro
fits, the New York Times naturally
waoti id help its English friends.
If our hop growers did "nnderseil
these foreign hop growers here at
home," would it pay them to do so?
That is the American point of view.
We don't want to sea American hop
growers raising their crop just for tho
fun of the thing and for tho pleasure
of mortgaging their farms till they
are seized by the sheriff, fort!-)
sake of benefiting British brewing
syndicates. But tho New York Times
does want this. The Deuiooratio hard
times havo cut down the consumption
of'beer by 750,000 barrels during the
first quarter of tho present fiscal year
and business in undoubtedly dull
among tho British brewers. But it
has been worse with t!>e hop growers,
who havo been obliged to sell their
hops anywhere from iwa to eight cents
a pound without musing u cent of
profit.
Root up tho American hop yards is
the New York Times idea, so that
more land may be dovoted to other
crops of which we have a surplus, aud
which arc not paying farmers money
enough for tuxes. The condition of
tbe hop market was will illustrated by
Ilitjtaßtttl gl CoaußMCfl- itud Uu»-
NO. 25.
luercial Bulletin, oa tbe same day that
Iho New York Times gave its kick at
American Lop farmers, us follows:
Prices (of hops) are still depressed
and the prospects are unsatisfactory."
This nieuut "unsatisfactory" to the
formers who held bops. Having got
them dosvn, the New YorkTime3 gave
them another kick, with a sort of
"blarst yon" expression, thinkinj;
bow "satisfactory" tho bop market
news of the day would be to the I!rit
!sh brewing syndicates.
Wo like to read the "high tariff ab
surdity" of tho New York Times, be
sause it contains such ft lot of low
tariff rot. It is amusing in its intense
ignorance. It used to profei-* beinfj
an expert on tho Americut iarpet
trade, but it has been significantly
silent on that subject since the Amen
can carpet manufacturers got tha;
great boon of free raw material whicit
was to let them capturo all tho carpet
markets of tho world. Why not tell
us all about those capttwes, and how
many more carpet markets havo been
put into captivity since we adopted
the British free trade policy? 'live
us some more low tariff rot.
A Descrtoil Democrat.
"A fnmine of statesmen.'' —
York Evening Post.
Of course there's "a famine of statts«
men" in tho Deinoeratio rankH after
the three years' experience of .Demo
cratic statesmanship since 18'J3. Wlius
HI |
Dcmoc at wants to shouldor such »
load of responsibility ? This "/amino
of statesmen'' in its own r.inks is tho
cause of the great Democratic editorial
interest in the ranks of Republican
statesmen. The one receiving tho
most abuse jnst now is Governor Mo-
Kinley, and whenever Democratio
editor* unite in attacking any proiui
nont Republican it is sure proof that
they dread his power aud popularity.
Koran's Kin* anil III" V»«'.
Tim Kluar of Kora bus cut ofT hit qiK-ns
*u<l iMUdtl a i.roolamatlon ordering his
|ivt« I.) <lo llkewtv TTiev pr*ty imam
•younly decltik*. ,

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