WHAT HE VALUED MOST
By Ralph Henry Barbour
(Copyright. 130«. ty Joseph B. Bowles.)
One afternoon she had heard
mover* In the hall, and knew that
the fourth-floor studiu had been taken.
The next morning unfamiliar sounds
fell from above—a man's voice, deep
and musical, leaping up and down the
scale, a cheerful, companionable tor
rent of melody that brought a respon
sive smile to her face.
Next day she had learned his name.
3eeking letters from the pile in the
iower hall, she had found a colorman s
catalogue addressed to “John Tlm
aon, Ksq." She had smiled at the .
name; Timson was so unusual and *
quaint and—funny! John she liked;
her father’s name had been John. All
the morning, as she worked at her
copper bowls and candlesticks, she
strove to picture a personality bo
attlng the name of John Timson.
A week later she saw' him.
After that they bowed, and then
• poke. Meetings became frequent.
Aside from the little weazened
dealer In old Ivories and curi
osities on the first floor, they were
the only occupants of the house
who made it their home. That served
»s a bond of sympathy, and they soon
discovered others. They were both
orphans, and both without near rela
tives; they were both struggling for
recognition—ho as a painter of land- !
■capes in oils, 6he as a worker in
metals. And then there were minor
sympathies born of similar tastes and
rlews which came to light In the first
fear of tlielr friendship.
It became his custom to drop into
her room for a moment on his way
np and down stairs, and then in the
evenings for long, enjoyablo talks,
while ho sat In her one easy-chair
■nd smoked and she worked away at
■n order or did her mending. Once a
week lie descended ceremoniously,
Immaculately clean, but diffusing a
Itrong odor of paint, and took lunch
with her, gravely marveling at the
display and pretended alarm at her
rockleasness.
One* he had returned her hospltal
ttj—h* had sold a small canvas—and
they bad dined sumptuously at one
rnd of the paint-stained table on lob
ster cutlets and French peas and as
paragus, sent In chilled, but appetiz
ing, from the cafe across the square.
IV nd be had made marvelous coffee
an old copper kettle, and had pro
duced a bottlo of olives, w hich, he sol
emnly declared, had been two years
.waiting the occasion.
Usually he called for her at the
institute in Brooklyn—she still at
>-nded an evening class three times a
/eek—and brought her home.
Once they had walked hack across
./ho bridge on a brisk winter night,
he white stars above them, the pur
Me lamps advancing and meeting
Jiem along their path, and the lemon
nd red and green lanterns twink
fng up from boats and pierheads,
'hat night sho had heard his story,
ile had told her of a boyhood spent
a a little town in western Missouri,
f his first dim dissatisfaction with
♦Is lot and his growing hatred for
oil In his father's squalid ‘general
/tore;” how at his father’s death—his
lother ho had never known—he had
tone to SL Louis, where he had
Jerked by day and studied art by
•MghL until, with 12,000 saved, he had
K>mo to New York and entered the
fague. lie had spent three years
(here, and then had hurled himself
n the Jersey woods, living like a her
mit, in a hut of his own building, and
♦ainting from dawn to du3k, fair days
<nd foul.
“And now," he had ended, "they're
eginnlng to know me. I've sold a
'ew canvases, mostly through Ruy
cr. Ruyter believes in me. The
hing I'm working on now Is for the
cademy. It's going to take a year;
«nt it's good, It's the best I have in
tie—and it's going to be hung.”
“Oh, I do so hope so!” she hud said,
■•arnestly.
“I've never doubted It," he had an
wered. simply. “It's a big stake,
tit—I'm gnin* to win!”
And so that first year had passed,
Jid the second of their friendship
•s three months old.
One afternoon—the morrow was the
.sf day for receiving canvases at the
sademy—he entered her room, and
snk silently Into his accustomed
.'tialr. She looked up questlnnlngly
rom the silver buckle on which ska
/as working.
"Finished,” he said, gloomily.
“Does it go to-day?"
“To-morrow; If isn't quite dry yet.
suppose I ought to he glad, but—" !
■* smiled forlornly—"I only feel rath
r lonesome." lie filled and lighted
ils pipe. "Do you care to poo it
-•gain?"
"Oh. yep.” she answered, eagerly
Upstairs he drew aside the yellow
ih cloth, and laid bare the canvas on
/hich he had tol/ed for almost a year
t was large, six feet by four.'and •
undoubtedly an ambitious effort for I
/hat might be called a first picture, ■
et the result was so splendid that
♦ie art.st a faith in its success seemed
<istified.
He had called It "August"—a wide,
ar-reaching expanse of salt-marsh
Ibboned with blue, breeze-ruffled wa
«r; along the horizon a dim purple
saze. a suggestion but no more of
he city; against the clear sky great
*hito thunderclouds rolled high upon
«a/:h other In majestic grandeur.
“It* glorious!" she whispered,
<naliy.
“You like It?" he ask^d, , almost
eagerly.
“I love It! But—” she sighed—
"how it makes one hate the city,
doesn't it?"
His eyes lighted. "Yes; and we're
going away from the city," he said,
with a ring in his voice. "We're
through work to-day. and we're going
—there! Get your things on.”
That day was a day of days. Win
ter reigned kindly. They crossed the
river, and spent the afternoon in the
woods and along the edge of tho
marshes, returning long after the city
was aglow. They had dinner at a
cafe, for when one has finished a pic
ture that Is to bring fame and wealth,
economy is a sinful thing. Bark in
her studio they talked until late.
The windows were gray with the
cold dawn when he awoke suddenly,
and stared about him. In a moment
he was out of bed and had thrown
open the hall door. Smoke, thick and
stifling, drifted in. At the bottom of
the staircase-well orange light danced
and glowed. Throwing his clothes on,
he lifted the picture from the easel,
and staggered with it down the first
flight. The smoke made him choke
and gasp. The next flight was miles
long. At the bottom he dropped the
picture, and as it toppled against the
baluster ho leaped to Beth’s door and
knocked loudly.
"Who Is there?" came the question
at once.
' It is Mr. Tlmson. The house is on
fire. There's no danger, of course,
but you must come quickly."
"Yes,” she answered, faintly.
Ho burled his face In his elbow,
leaning against the wall. Once he
started impetuously toward the pic
ture, only to turn back. The crack
ling of tho flames drowned now even
the noise at the door. Then Beth
stood before him, white-faced, anxious
eyed, but unafraid.
“Down the stairs, quick!" he cried.
"I'll follow you.”
“You mustn't stay!” 6he Cried, fear
fully.
"The picture,” he answered. “Go,
please." He seized his burden again,
and staggered down the liatl, gasping
and lurching There ho found her
He Seized His Burden Again.
crouching on the top step. He put
the picture aside, and caught her in
his arms.
“Hide your face,” he said.
She struggled, sobbing. "N’o, no!
Let me go! You mustn't leave it!”
“I’ll come back for It.” he answered,
quietly. “Courage, little girl; it s just
for a minute.”
Then he plunged down the stairs,
past writhing tongues of flame. Set
ting Heth upon her feet, he led her
across the street. On the stoop he
turned. “I must go back,” he su'd,
gently. “I won't be long.”
Sho waited and watched, fearful
and wretched for his sake. Presently
he returned empty-handed.
"It was no use,” he explained “The
halls are in flames.”
“Oh,” the moaned, ”1 wish you had
never R^en me. It'3 gone all your
work —and hope!” Hhe glanced up
miserably, to And his grave eyes smil
ing.
"Hush, hush." he whispered, ten
derly. “I've saved what 1 valued most,
dear.”
The color flared into her white fare
and she swayed dizzily until his aim
went out and drew her to him.
' Heth,'' he whispered.
She raised her eyes slowly to his.
They looked, he thought, like pale
dew-wet violets. He bent his face,
her lids fluttered down, and their lips
met.
“Little girl.” he said, presently,
"we're pretty well cleaned out, you
and !, aren't we?”
"Yes.” she arirwer-^d. softly.
"It wouldn't matter, Jf only you
could have saved the picture," she
said, dolefully.
“Never mind the picture,” he re
piled, steadily. “Ml do It again, and
better.” Then he whispered: * Ixiok.”
Above the sleeping clfv, toward the
east, a faint rose flush was dispelling
the dawn's gray gloom.
"A new day out of the embers of
tho night,” she said, softly.
He bent again and kissed her. "And
for us, dear, a new life out of tb«
ashes of tbc cid.”
LABOR’S BIG REWARD
GREATEST ADVANCE IN WAGES
KNOWN IN HISTORY.
As a Result of Unparalleled Prosperity
the Increase of Pay to Workers in
Mills. Factories and on Railroads
Will Amount to $1,000,000,000 for
1907.
January first Just passed and the i
months preceding saw the greatest ad- J
vanee in wages ever known in this
country. Tin* advance is the more
remarkable because it was based on
the highest rate known In this or any
other land. A ten per cent, increase
to the wages of the laborer under the
free trade tariff of IS-lfi would have
meant a dally gain of from live to ten
cents, if lie had gotten it. A ten per
cent, increase under the IMngley tariff
in 19ot*-7 means a gain of 20 to M)
cents a day, or from $60 to $l£>u a
year; the gain itself being more than
the entire wage of some foreign com
petitors.
I ite IMngley tariff hn^ brought most
wondrous changes to our industrial
life. ( ndor it our foreign trade has
doubled; the value of our farm prod
ucts has doubled; the volume of em
ployment lias changed from the idle
ness of millions to a veritable labor
famine in all parts of the country. Our
manufacturers arc unable to supply
(lie demands of our prosperous people,
and we arc buying over $1,200,000,000
worth of foreign products.
Remarkable as an* all those results,
they do not equal In importance the In
creased rewards to labor.
The secretary of the Railroad Gen
eral Managers' association sa> s the
railroad employes will this year re
ceive over $ 1.000,000.000 in wages,
more than double what the railroad
employes of 1896 received. Here is n
gain of over 100 per cent, in the past
ten years. These are so-called ''non
protected" workers, and yet they are
among the greatest recipients of the
reward of a protective tariff.
The condition of street and elevated
railroad employes is similar. The next
largest increase has been given to the
metal workers. Rradstreet's estimates
that the annual pay roll in the Pitts
burg district alone exceeds $350,000.
000, an increase over two years ago of
$100,000,000.
The textile workers of New England
and elsewhere have had their share
too in the increase of wages, the gain
amounting to many millions of dollars.
The express companies' employes,
| coal and iron and copper miners, boot
and shoe operators, and the laborers
in thousands of mills and factories
have had an increase during the past
year over the increases of the years
preceding tinder the IMngley tariff
The laborers of the I'nitH States
have been trebly benefited, first by
continuous employment; second, by
higher wages; third, by shorter hours;
and we might add. fourth, by an In
crease of interest In savings banks
whore they have over $3,000,000,000 on
deposit at four per cent, now, in most
cases, instead of three and three and
one half per cent, formerly. And still .
the labor demand is not equal to the
supply, and we are easily absorbing
half a million new wage earners an
nually from abroad, u ho. with their
families, add over a million new con-j
Burners each year to increase the tie- !
inand for American agricultural and
manufactured products.
in tin- light of flic above facts it !
would seem foolish, yes,- criminal, to
change a tariff policy which lias given
such unprecedented rewards to tne
workers of the country.
Would Wreck the Prosuerity Train.
Foreign Trade. $3,250,00(5IC0O.
Wliat will the advocate* of tariff re- j
duel ion a promoter of foreign trade j
have to nay about the XovuuliCr trade |
returns? in the fli rt 1J mouths of j
fKOf, our irniiorts have been JU.|»S.- [
139,322, hii Ineren e of |110.128.nff1
ever the corresponding period tn J905.
while our exports have amounted to !
31.H07.7I2.N42, this helm' $l$'tf4fiti,567 i
n.ore than for the first II months of'
19^:,. The grand total for 11 months
l« $2,795,s."(2.fif>t. At this rate our for- 1
elga trade for lftfir, will reach the $3..
2 ,0.000.000 mark. I* not ooi foreign •
trade doing fairly well under the Dlsg ;
ley tariff It Is double what It was J
ten years ago under a tariff revise! i
downward with particular reference
to promoting foreign trade. Taking
these large figure* into due consider*
tion. Will the congress of commercial
organization* whlrh In to meet two
weeks hence in Washington likely
to advise another experiment in for
eign trade promotion like that of
1*91 97? Wc should think not. |
TARIFF REVISION PRCC.3AM.
Postponement Until 1909 Should Meal
Views of All Sensible Republicans.
it comes more or less authoritative
ly from Washington that there will be
no further talk of tariff revision at
this time. That decision Is In accord
ance with sound common sense. The
country Is ut the present time at the
height of prosperity and it would be
folly to undertake to revise the tarifT
at such a time. That there are some
schedules which might be changed and
which ought to he changed mav be
I admitted and is admitted i>> all? \o
one can be such a fool as to contend
that any taxation scheme is perfect.
I lie tariff Is in its very nature oue of
the most complicated compromises in
our national enactment. And it is be
cause of these complications and com
promises that many people have hon
estly opiwised any tariff changes or
tinkering* at this time,, fearing that
more harm than gixtd would couio
from such a procedure.
Rov. Cummins, of Iowa, began this
agitation even before President House
velt was Inaugurated. He tried to
foree it into the national platform of
t h lea go and he went to IVtroit and
told an audience about that time that
i ,l° "as revision now, immediately,
j by this congress (meaning the con
; gross then in session) and he kept
i "P until lie said finally, and we be
lieved then and still believe, unwisely,
that all the insurance graft or all the
insurance companies of all time did
not oqual one-fifth of the tarifT graft
i in one year. That was the other cx
| trenie. W’e do not now believe that
I the governor meant what lie said. Ho
pouhl not have meant it, hut he was
carried away with the facility or utter
ance that lias been given him, and lie
was annoyed at the delays In a matter
for which lie had been a special advo
cate. It was in utterances like those
that many Republicans found tin* ani
mus ol their opposition to tin* present
governor.
T»ic postponement of tariff revision
uutil 1909, that is until after the pres
idential election *»f 1908, will meet, we
believe, with the approbation of nearly
all Republicans. Even the governor of
Iowa, who lias been so Insistent on
tills question, cannot but acquiesce la
the decision of tho wisest leadership
In congress, with the advice and con
sent of tin' president.
I o undertake tariff revision now
would be a most disastrous proceed
ing. not merely from a party stand
point, although that is not unimpor
tant, but from a financial and indus
trial standpoint, it will be easier anti
create less 'disturbance if done Imme
diately after the next presidential elec
tion. When it is done at that time tho
new turlfT cannot be made an Inimc
dlate and bitter political issue, but
the new schedules can lie put into ef
fect with the least disturbance. The
conditions of the country in tin* mean
time may undergo serious changes
and (bis program on the tariff will
have to be varied accordingly, but tho
fact that then* is to be no revision
until then will In Itself be an Impor
Hint factor In the continuance of our
present high prosperity. The agree
ment reached in Washington is one
ot the best assets in our continuance
in prosperity.
It is to b* hoped that there will lie
no Republican dissent to this pro
gram, and we feel certain that it will
not come from the governor of Iowa,
who lias been learning some wisdom
ami moderation on such issues. Tho
agreement Is satisfactory to the busi
ness interests, and the politician*
oiu bt to see it 'in that way.—Cedar
RupMs Republican.
To Secure Fair Treatment.
“We have reached the day when wo
must lie willing to mnkc geenrotis om
cessions if we are to receive fair
treatment In Europe."—Ifuffalo Ex
press
This is the conclusion reached In
view of thre.ats by Germany and
France to mark up fhe|r tariffs on
American exports. We are to make
"generous concessions” from our tariff
on German and Fienrh exports in or
der to secure fair treatment! We are
to take the bread out of the months of
American wage earners anti their fair
Hies merely because aomc European
nation threat *ns , r» i, uv unfairly
it wo dr.*'’f *
is tr.u trie Express idea of the prop
er course for a nation of V.'i.OOO.OOO
people to pursue? Are #.e to lie down
and am rend -r otir right whenever
some foreign country floi t tslier, a big
stick?
Our tariff is our own. K suits us.
It was made for Americans, not for
Germans or Frenchmen l'»d*r If we
are buying *700.009,000 a -ear of com
petitive goods from foreign producers.
Shall we lie scared Info buying wore?
If so, how much more?
if we show the white feather now
w'hen and where will the big sdek
bluff game stop? \re we always to be
at the mercy of fwrefgr, bulldozers?
kor shame! The Expre.'.s needs to
lake a few stitches in r!( patriotism
and Its common sense Moth arc get
Inc the worse for wear when If talks
about making generous concessions in
order to secure fair treatment. There
Is a better way to secure fair treat -
tiienf. and the weapons are In our own
hands.
The R*e In Price of Labor.
“Rome Idea of the amount or this
tariff trust craft may be obtain*1 I l»v
eoimlfU rhiR the difference between the
i *• of price* In this f amily and In
Jnyland.”—Myron ffolt.
The rise In prices of labor, f*»r In
stance. Prices of commodities have
risen the world over durlnsc fht peat
few years, but nowhere has the price !
of labor risen as It h«s !u the United
States.
Frock for School Girl
EXTREME SIMPLICITY IN SMALL
MAIDS’ ATTIRE.
Finery In Dress Now Frowned On by
the Best People—Some Combina
tions That Produce the
Best Effects.
• t Is tio longer the thing to make
of children Idols for tho display of a
mother’s tasto In dress. No child
should ever be made uncomfortable
or conspicuous by her clothes. Tho
one is detrimental to the bodily de
velopment. as well as that tranquil
lity which comes from forgetfulness
of self, which Ih ho necessary for the
child’s happy growth of mind. To
make a child conspicuous panders to
her vanity ami spoils her manners,
and manners arc so important a part
of a girl’s equipment in future years.
Simple, practical materials are pro
curable at so lit lie cost, and well
fashioned, roady-to-woar things now
Costumes for 8chool Girls.
solve the problem of at tiro for every
buyer whose expenditures are limit
ed; and other mothers who havo the
Joy of decking out their offspring
cannot go wrong, for there In now so
little unsuitable finery offered for
sale. Fortunately well to do people
of intelligence go In for simple things.
Fluids In endless variety are among
the better materials, and have great
advantage for the home dressmaker
since* they almost "trim themselves.’*
A touch of velvet rlblxm or braid In
the most decided of the dark colors
that form the plaid, a few buttons to
emphasize the design of the frock,
and it has exactly the air most desira
ble
Tne simpler combinations are inost^
practical. The green and blue, with*
How of while, yellow or red that Is'
an old and tried favorite. Gay Stuart
tart at.* that seem Just right for
bright, dark-eyed little maids, and are
almost as pretty on flnxen hatred*
Qretchens. are used by the best
houses Then there are newer anct
rather morn somber combinations of
blues and btnwns and white grounds
barred will, ether colors Judiciously
selected to brighten or subdue the ef
fect ns the materials demand.
Hlue serge Is the mnteriul chosen
for some of the nicest gowns and
suits, both for the school girl and for
the mother. This never goes out of
stylo, but Is tills season reckoned par
ticularly smart.
It demands the nicest tut and finish,
and needs to be given nu nlr by the
use of a color contrast of some sort.
Almost any tint may be selected that
Is liked and becoming to the wearer.
A Hoft bright green nil the fashiona
ble reds, as well as scarlet, light gray
ish blue, and the various deeper hy
drangea shades. Tawny browns and
yellows are c.11 excellent for this pur
pose. i
Nearly all the schoolgirl Tracks
have washable cuffs. Many of them
have also lingerie cuffs that are pret
ty, but soil very quickly. In most
cases It will be most practical and al
together satisfactory to use regular
gulinpes that can be changed ns fre
quently as necessary and that stay iu
place and look trim, however much
the active little wearers may romp
about.
HOW TO LIGHTEN A ROOM.
Little Touches That Will Do Much
in Relieving Gloom.
N’o one wants a gloomy room, hut
Mhat to do with such a room^ Is a
problem that has bothered more than
one.
Many a woman lias foregone inside
curtains and even sash curtains to al
low all the light possible to come Into
the room, but still It looks dreary.
It Is not as much the light, that one
needs as the sunshine, and when this
cannot lie had one must mako It, or !
rather get the effect of it.
A room with a northern aspect
should not, of course, l>o papered In
blue, or some such cold color, but
rather In rich, warm tones of olive
green, brown, red or yellow', ir the
room get* but little light and sun
shine, yellow should be the choice.
»\'ot only hIioii 1<1 there he yellow on
the walls, but also on the ceiling, for
the sales of the reflection. A pretty
treatment Is to have a light pumpkin
yellow on the walla as far as the pic
ture molding and a lighter shade
“bovc this and on the ceiling. Then
yellow silk sash curtains, pulled back,
tend to make a room sunny.
I trass can make a wonderful‘differ*
eneo to n dreary room. A large Jar
diniere, with a plant in it placed In a
dark corner will lighten up most mar
vellously. The andirons, too, will givo
a cheery reflection, even candlesticks
help, and little trays and howls, bo
they ever so small. Tlio Importance
of brass In a sunless room cannot bo
• oo strongly emphasized. Mirrors
brighten up and so do some pictures*
wlih well-polished glasses and gilded
frames, hut these little points are too
seldom taken into consideration.
WA YS OF DRESSING THE HAIR.
Plume3, Jewels and Wreathes All
Have Their Admirers.
The paradise plume is as popular In
coiffure decoration as in millinery and
this soft, sweeping feather Is more
easily adjusted In the hair Ilian are
the little ostrich tips which rival the
paradise feathers in general popular
ity.
The full straight algret Is much
worn in Paris—not the fine small al
gret for many seasons past used In
assoclallon with knots of velvet or
tulle or with Jeweled ornaments,
hut Buch a big aggressive algret as
has appeared upon many a modish hat
this winter.
Next to the Jewel and feather ornn
menfs the Parisian most favors a sin
gle large rose or a cluster of smaller
flowers.
A wreath of simple green leaves
pointed in shape am! arranger! in Na
polronlc fashion with the points meet
ing at the center front Ik an unpreten
tious affair, hut haw charming possi
bilities in asnriatlnn with the right
coiffure.
Wreath* of small flowers are always
charming and some exceedingly at
tractive things are shown in these
flora! wreaths In coronets.
A cluster or roues poser! at the left
side of the coiffure and holding a cor-1
one* wreath of muirlenhal* Is a good
dr-sign. Maidenhair of gold rad sil
ver, as well ns roses of gold and sll
vcr. I* much In evidence.
A wreath of exquisitely natural vie
lets sprinkled with dewdropR Is most
attractive and wreaths made up of
tlnv morning glories In all the deli
cate morning glory colorings shot with
sliver are among the loveliest of the
novelties.
In a vory loose coiffure piled rather
»*»vh a rdaln velvet ribbon run In and
out through the soft strands nnd curh*^
Is considered particularly chic, espe
cially for the debutante.
Wear Dainty Aprons at Tea. I
Certain fashionable hosteses In Man
hattan wear dainty little lace aprons
over their afternoon gowns when they
preside at the tea tatde. The bibs
are mere cobwebs, with a graceful
bow perched on the left' side. They
give tin* homelike touch not always
<een at fashionable tea gatherings.
The custom has come from 1‘srfsv
Some aprons are made of altemafo
strips of Valenciennes luce and Swls»
embroidery, t
PLAIN SKIRT 13 SMART. ' —
Almost any woolen material may bo
lined for making up this skirt. It wilt
look specially smart In one of ttm
soft, dark plaids now go much wma
Tabs are joined on to the front
breadth which cross the flat pleats at
♦he sides. A velvet-colored button t*
sewn In each point. The center Saea
Is made with double Inverted pleat*.
Material required: 4^ yard* V
Inches wide. J ' 'ysgj