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i hopefulness and confidence. Socialistic Activities of Employes of the Federal Trade Commission By SENATOR WATSON of Indiana. Speech in Congress If my information be correct, the headquarters of tho federal, trade commission in Chicago during the time they weie open were centers of sedition and anarchy from which radiated the most baleful influence. I trust I have mentioned enough to demonstrate that that office was, during all that period, a center of rad icalism, a nesting place for socialists, a spawning ground for sovietism, and that, while professing to in vestigate business with a view to eradicating its evil features, they constantly plotted for the destruction of the business they were charged to investigate and ior the confiscation and collective ownership of all the means for the crea- tion and the distribution of wealth. Senators, if socialists and anarchists are recognized in official life, they will not be condemned in private life. If they are fostered and pro- tected by the government, they will flourish ^n business and industrial institutions, and we will not succeed in overcoming the bolshevistic ten- dency of the day unless we oust from office every red radical holding a place under the government. Men sent out by the federal trade commission should be investigators and not persecutors they should impartially find the facts and should fearlessly report them. Men ought not be selected to represent the govern- ment who are against all government. We had as well choose atheists to reform the principles of the church. Men who are opposed to our existing institutions should never be chosen to protect them, and no agency of the government bent on the enforcement of the laws has a right to select as its representatives those who are opposed to all law and hostile to all government These acts are subversive of the very foundations of govern- ment, and should the practiceNcontinue will inevitably result in its over- throw. Good Citizenship Requires the Most Definite Kind of Teaching Ey EDWARD AMHERST OTT Because every normal man loves the land of his birth, that does not necessarily make him a good citizen or an efficient one in time of need.- The great war convinced at least four million young men of the desira- bility of getting ready and remaining prepared for national defense. Entirely apart from the physical training and stamina that come to the young men of the country through physical training, we need the loyalty and team-work that are derived most economically from such training. Good citizenship is not an accident. It requires the most definite kind of teaching. Every voter in America should learn the spirit, the history and the technique of our kind of government. By setting aside a prescribed period in a boy's life, say six months, when he can touch elbows with thousands of others and devote his entire attention to trie subject of his national duty, American spirit and team-work will leave an impression that will last a lifetime* The blacksmith's son and the banker's son should know that they have, indeed, many worthwhile interests in common. It will be healthy socially for the millionaire's son to know,the viewpoint and the fine spirit of the boy from the farm and shop. The various groups of our citizens must mingle to insure an enduring democracy. The educational results of universal training will be broadening. The experience gained by the youth who is approaching manhood will pay many times over for its cost. No greater tribute could be given the young men who wore the uniform for us during the great war than to establish a national and universal system of training for citizenship and national defense. It will be a living institution to show our appreciation of what was done under superdifficulties to carry forward on a world stage the principles of our republic. It will prevent a recurrence of unpreparedness and the resultant loss of life, energy and money. And it will insure a greater good in the fullest popular exercise of citizenship responsibilities. If Any Man Ever Deserved the Thanks of England, Schwab Is the Man By ADMIRAL LORD FISHER, British Navy In a memorandum which I had printed and circulated in January, 1914, seven months before the war, these words may be found in large capital letters, "The submarine is the coming type of war vessel for sea fighting.^ I was literally persecuted for building submarines while I was first sea lord. Thanks to Admiral Bacon and Admiral S. S. Hall, we are what we are. When I left the admiralty on January 25, 1910, there were 61 efficient submarines and 13 were building.^ When I returned to the admiralty in October, 1914, there were only 51* so I sent foT Mr. Schwab of the Bethlehem Steel works and he delivered a batch of submarines in five ntonths. That was an unprecedented feat, as 14 months was the record till then. These 'IP-type submarines built by Schwab went unconvoyed from Amer- ica to the Dardanelles and acted there prodigiously. Mr. Schwab should have been made a duke. If any man ever deserved the gratitude of Eng- land, Mr. Schwab is the man, but he has not even received the Order of the Bad Egg. Tiie British nation is going to make the same damned mess over the internal combustion engine, which is as imperative for commerce as for war. Every nation except ourselves is pushing ahead with this engine. Herr Ballin, before he suicided, decided on a fleet of 10,000-ton vessels so fitted. We have no big ship so fitted that I know ofeven thought of. I really dc look forward $0 the day of judgment, when all these champidn liars I knc~v of and wJSc3 so highly honored at the present will be ex- posed and flagellated. What I think is one of the fearful things of the late war is that we had no admirals or general shotwe only promoted them. Secretary of the Interior LaneOh, for a few days of real sanity, whei Vith composed nerves and calm judgment and without bitterness or feel ing, we could look at our problems and meet them with OUT IraditTona THE TOMAHAWK, WHITE EARTH. MINN. Le Boulevard PoissonnSere in Old Paris. HE boulevards of Paris, which Ecrases, situated at the point where extend for a length of four kilo- the boulevard crosses at right angles meters and a half from the the Rue and Faubourg Montmartre, Madeleine to the Bastille in a the Rue de Richelieu and the Rue Bemi-circumference, are the rendezvous Drouot, there extends a sort of neu tral zonethe Boulevard Montmartre x ,_,. _, which one might almost define as types of humanity, promenades cease- the vestibule to the Boulevard des lessly the wide sidewalks, where the Italiens. It was here, in the Passage terraces of innumerable cafes lend an des Panoramas, that, In 1817, the ex- air of good-humored if rather vulgar periment of lighting Paris by gas was familiarity to the whole scene. The Paris boulevards may be said to have originated in the deep muddy trenches which were hastily dug around the city in 1536, to repulse the much-dreaded attacks of the Eng lish who, having devastated Picardy, 'were now threatening the capital, says the Christian Science Monitor. The first trees were planted in 1638, and have been continually replaced since then, although they have not ceased to struggle bravely to live and thrive in spite of the scarcity of light, air, and sun. Entrance to the* Boulevards. The-starting point of the boule vards can be located at the Bastille before the eighteenth century they be gan at the entrance of the Rue St. Antoine, so that the attention of the stranger who entered Paris by the Porte St. Antoine was at once at tracted by the looming mass of the state prison, and by the beautiful resi dence of Beaumarchals, which played a part in the Revolutionary drama. One soon reaches the Boulevard du Temple, today* so calm, and essential ly commercial with its numerous baker, butcher, and grocer shops. Once upon a time, however, and not so very long ago, it was called "the beau tiful boulevard," for it was then the favorite meeting place of courtiers and rich bourgeois of the'Tout Paris," which even then was docile in obey ing the dictates of fashion. Innumer able theaters and shows lined both sides of the roadway, giving the boule vard the appearance of a perpetual fair in which a gay, laughing crowd paused to listen to the songs of Colle and Pironsung by the lovely Fan Aon la Veilleuseand amused itself with the antics of Nicolefs extraor dinary monkey. After the Place de la Eepublique has been safely crossed, one saunters up the Boulevard St. Martin, the road way of which is encased between high sidewalks reached by mounting sev eral steps. It extends to the Porte St. Martin,' erected in 1674 by the municipal corps of Paris to the glory of Louis XIV. At nightfall the Boule vard St. Martin acquires a certain ani mation when the public presses around the doors of the Amblgu Comique, the Renaissance and the Porte St. Martin theaters. The Porte St. Martin was built In 90 days by Le moine, at the end of the reign of Louis XVI, to serve as a temporary opera house. But the sidewalks suddenly cease to be terraced and slope gently down ward until they reach their normal height, and the noisy Boulevard St. Denis extends between the two^onu mental gateways, the beautiful bas reliefs of which remind the passerby of the taking of Limburg and the de feat of the Germans, as well as of the passing of the Rhine and the taking of the provinces by Louis XIVex ploits of which the "Sun King" was Justly proud. It must be remarked that the escutcheon of the Porte St. Denis with its flenr-de-lys Is the only royal emblem which was respected by the Revolution of 1848. Landmarks Alone the Way, first attempted. The Boulevard Mont martre has lost most, of its former vogue many of its famous cafgs, which formed part of the life of th city, no longer exist. Brebant has disappeared the Cafe de Madrid, which played an important Dart In the political history of the second em pire, and during the war was frequent ed by the most famous "aces" ol French aviationsuch as Fonck and Nungesser when on leaveis becom ing transformed. The Cafe de Mulhouse has been re placed by the Musee Grevin, of wax work celebrity. The Theater des Vari etes. with the columns of its old-fash ioned portico, is a souvenir of the past, as well as is the Passage Verdean of which many people would surely for get the existence were they not forci bly reminded of it when showers oblige them to seek a refuge in that haunt once so fashionable. The Rue de Richelieu marks the beginning of the true boulevard, which privileged region spans the Place de I'Opera to the Madeleine church. On the crowded sidewalks, rather ob structed by the terraces of innumer able cafes, one meets "all kinds and conditions of men" in that most demo cratic of all conglomerationsand that most banala Parisian crowd. Another Famed Thoroughfare. The Boulevard des Italiens was the center of the brilliant, scandalous life of the late empire and early '30s. There used to assemble at Tortoni'e at the Maison d'Ornow transformed into a post officeat the Cafe de Paris, those French dandies who brought such laborious care to the imitation of the extravagances of theii English models at the corner of the Rue Laffitte was situated the Cafe Hardig, the meeting place of the agl tators at the fall of the assignats and which is celebrated as having been the first Parisian cafe where luncheon* were served "a la fourchette," that is where meat was served. The Cafe Anglais on the opposite side of the boulevard was the most fashionable restaurant of the second empire. II was demolished recently, and Paris sighed at the disappearance of anoth er of its favorite haunts. The Pa villon de Hanovre, facing the Vaude ville theater, now shelters the shop ol a prosperous silversmith but It If of noble origin, having formerly be longed to the duke of Richelieu, whe had, so runs the legend, built it wltt the product of the golden and sllvei laurels he obtained by hook or bj crook during the Hanoverian war Hence the nickname which has evei since remained attached to the beau tiful and luxurious building. The Boulevard des Capueines,whlct starts from the Vaudeville and spam the Place de I'Opera, is always ex tremely animated with Its numerous hotels, clubs and shops. It belongs some sort to history, for it was front the garden of the Capndnes (whicl has disappeared long since) that th( first pistol shot which transformec the riot of 1848 into a regular revo lution was fired. Processions and corteges of all kinds, both civil and military, peace The Boulevard Bonne Nouvelle has fuL threatening or triumphant, hav preserved a number of old-fashioned through the centuries passed dowr houses presenting a strong contrast the boulevards, stamping history int to the modern construction, which has the very footway they^ followed. Bui considerably spoiled the charm of the old boulevards so essentially Parisian. Facing the aggressive stores, which occupy a whole block, one can still see a picturesque corner distinctly reminiscent of old Paris the angle of the dark old Rue de la Lune. where still exists a famous pastry shop, "A ia Renommee de in Brioche," in which for more than a century. Parisians have eaten the famous cake. The Gymnase theater, a few steps farther down, was built in the early part of the last century and Is still one of the most fashionable theaters of Paris. From the surely the old avenues never wit nessed a more solemn or symbolical scene than the parade of the ulllec" troops, which, on the 14th of July preceded by their glorious, tattered banners, marched down the boule vards toward the Place de la Re pnblique. Weird From the Start. VisitorSo this is the haunted house. How did it get such a repu tation? NativeWell, there's been something uncanny about It from the beginning. Ev when it was built it didn't exceed famous Can"*for des the oootwrtot's" wtfanatfc I Near St. Anne's By JANE OSBORN 1J19. byMcClure Newspaper Syndicate.) Matron of an "old ladles' home." Madge Gray! If you had seen her as she set out that Thanksgiving eve you, too, would have rebelled against the fate that had forced Madge to her de cision. It had been merely the result of a little arithmetic. She received $20 a weeka sum that would once haye seemed munificentfor her work as filing clerk in a downtown oilice. For board and lodging in a tiny hall bedroom she had to deduct $12. There were six lunches besides, and clothes and carfares and all those little inci dentals that, no matter what your in come, always come to work havoc with your budget. At St. Anne's Madge had been offered $50 a monthbut there would be no "expensesno carfare, board, lodging, lunch or laundry. It was not that institutional life seemed to hold out any attractions to Madge, but simply because she was tired of putting up the fight that seemed nec essary in adjusting her standard of living to that $20 a week. So Madge was interested when Mrs. Saunders, who had known Madge before Mi*. Gray's death and the collapse of the Oray affairs, wrote telling her in a let ter full of pity that St. Anne's home, of which Mrs. Saunders was a direc tor, was in need of a matron and that Mrs. Saunders remembered how tact ful Madge had been with the old ladies at the hotel where they had once spent the summer. Her letter did not very successfully conceal the fact that the matrons-hip of St. Anne's had not been a position very much sought after and that the $50 had not been deemed sufficient to the other matrons lo persuade them to exert the supreme tact needed to get on with the "aged gentlewomen" who lived at St. Anne's. If the inmates of St. Anne's had been really in need it might have been easier, but the fact that they paid a not inconsiderable board and that they themselves regarded St. Anne's not at all its a charitable Institution although it was heavily endowed made the task of being their mat ion none too easy. Imagine the fair-haired Madge. scarce more than a child herself, mothering all those old indies. But to her there was nothing Incongruous in the idea. So having no more inter esting plans to make for the holiday, she told Mrs. Saunders that she would go out to St. Am.e's to "look things over" and see if she thought she could possibly assume the responsibil ity that the position required. Mrs. Saunders had thereupon asked her to go out Wednesday after noon and spend the Thanksgiving week-end there. She wrote to the de parting matron to receive Madge and to try to make St. Anne's seem us at tractive as possible. So wllcn twenty-year-old Madge started out by train to the unfrequent ed suburb that harbored St. Anne's it was with the feeling Unit if she ac cepted the positionand there seemed not the f: lint est doubt but that she wouldher Inst decision would have been reached. She would simply re-, main at St. Anne's the rest of her life. So far there hadn't been very much else for her but disappointment, she reflectedfloor little Madge who was canable of so much enjoymentand for such as her a retreat like St. Anne's was the best that life could af ford. Never bad one of the inmates of St. Anne's approached that vine-cov ered house in the country feeling any older than did Madge that Thanksgiv ing eve. But she didn't look oldfor from it. The demure little hat and the inex pensive plain dark suit greatly became her. It did not require sables and vel vets to set off the prettinossof Madge. In fact, Mudgo was of that winsome, artless type that appear best when most simply dressed She sat in her seat in the rail road train watching the retreating landscape-^-tbe cold gray November sky and the ponds in the meadows showing a border of ice around the edge. And as slu* looked a tear welled up from each of those violet eyes and met at the bridge of her dainty nose and then splashed down on Madge's hands that lay folded before her. What was the use of wiping It away? There was no one to see, or, at least, no one to care. Then two more tears started, bttt mddenly were checked. Some one was leaning over her. She looked up ftad stifled a little cry with tho hand that had risen to wipe away the *eatiges of her foolish tears. "Bob," so id Madge, and Hob said "Mndge." Then be ssit down beside her. "Well, whatever are you doing?" be asked, and Madge said: "Oh, just going to Malvern. Are you?" Bob said he was, and then: "Whn-. can you be going to Malvern for?'' "Oh, to see some people," said Mndge, coloring, for there was very little out at Malvern, save St. Anne's a pickle factory and a stone quarry. She was wondering what could have called Bob to that part of the conn try. Bob. whom in those days before the crash crime Madge was "almost engaged to."* In those dys of many sailors it wn Boh as much as any one to whom she hud jriven ler young heart. And in the day* that had followed, who knows how completely that heart had been devoted to his memory'? She was hoping that Bob would not question her to the point where she would have to tell him of her plans to immure herself in the old ladles' home. "No," said Bob deliberately, "I have no friends there" He paused, look ing backward as if interested in some one occupying a seat behind there across the aisle. Then It was that if seemed to Madge as If there was something very cruel in the fate that had made it necessary for her to solve her problem of existence in the way she had planned. It would seem like such a confession of her own utter inability to cope with things. Madge felt as if she were showing her embarrassment, and sud denly she realized that Bob was as embarrassed as she. Presently he excused himself. "My auntthat little old lady in black is with me," he said. "I will just tell her that I have met you, and then may I come and sit here beside you for at least part of the trip?" Until he came Madge's heart beat so fast: and her poor little tired brain was in such a whirl that sho could not explain just what she would sa.v in the event that he asked her point blank where she was going if, for iu stance, he suggested that he accom pany her to her destination in Mal vern. lie came back and they talked about the dreary weather, then of Thanks giving. "I suppose," ventured Madge, for her curiosity was aroused, "that you are*going to Malvern for the holi- days"' She was sure now that Bob was going to see a possible fiancee. She couldn't help being jealous. "I may stay over Thanksgiving," he said drearily. "If they let me." There was a rather sorry attempt to talk about things in general and then the conversation got back to the subject of Malvern. It was only fif teen minutes away and each was eager to find why the other was bound there, though each was as eager not to tell. It was Bob win* began. "I am really sorry- for what I am doingashamed I would be if there were any way out of It. Dear old Aunt Sally brought me up. A mother could not. have been kinder to me. I have wanted to make a home for herI hope to some day. "But she is old and she cannot bi* left alone. Now I have a chance to do really big things in the Westthat is, big for inc. After a year I've been promised ten thousand a year. But can't take Aunt Sally with me. Shi* would be without friends. I want to make good llrst. I've tried to repay her Just a little for all she did for me that is the taaaon why I never asked asked the one woman In (he world to be my wife. Because I felt that so hug- as Aunt Sally lived I wanted lo live with her and I did not feel free to ask' her" Bob's eyes gazed past Madge as If ttv-v were really afraid to rest on her, and he looked out on the gray landscape without actually see ing It. "But, Bob," cried Madge us she realized what he had been saying and then their eyes'met. "Why are you taking her to Malvern? Are you taking her to St. Anne's?" "Yes, to St. Anne's, and It does sound pretty shabby to let lier go to an old holies' bornebut it is just for the yeur. 1 know she will be treated wet! there and hhe would not consent to my giving up this chance In the West just to stay East with her. Then I'll get little home and I can afford^ a companion for her. But until then"' They were very near to Malvern. Suddenly it seemed to Madge as if tho whole world of love ami life were slip ping through her fingers. She felt a boldness fit" speech that was not at all usual with Madge besides, hadn't he hinted that she was the only woman? "Boh, if you had married and if youryour wife happened to lie very fond of old. ladiesvery tactful and perfectly willing to be considerate mightn't you have been willing to take the wife and Aunt Sally out West wilh yn right away? The wife would be willing to take care of the dear old aunt, and having them both with you might help you to win out. That is. providing the one woman in tho world were still willing to marry you, even though you nearly liroko her heart be cause you didn't ted her thai you loved her 1 iffore." "You didn'tyou wouldn't really?" stammered Bob. "Yes, I did. Bob," announced Medg... "hut could you share your home with Aunt Sally?" "I've a reputation for being very, very food of old ladiesI know I'd love Aunt Sally. I conid manage beautifully with one old lady." anil there was an emphasis on the one, the reason for which Bob did not under stand. There was just time enough before they reached Malvern for Madge to explain. "Then why should any or ns go to Sr. Anne's?'* asked Aunt Sally, when they explained just what hail happened in the little waiting room at Malvern while they were waiting for the om nibus from the old ladies* home. "Why shouldn't we take the next train back to town and just send a telegram that we ar*w't any of us eomine?" "And what could we do then?" asked Mndge. holding the little obi lady's hand very tight in hers. "YVI-.v, I suppose you two children could get married. Then we'd nil have Thanksgiving together, and yoo and I. dear, could go West with Bob If he'd let us." Toil is work into which you do not uut anv enthusiasm.