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16 THE ATL ANTI AN GENTLEMEN IF YOU ARE WISE YOUR NEXT PAIR OF SHOES WILL BE BOSTONIANS For service, style, and comfort, they are real leaders. Prices $3.50 to $5.00. All styles—All materials. If You Don’t Know Them, Get Acquainted Now. Men’s White Oxfords Men’s Silk Hosiery THE GREAT EXPANSIONIST By Rev. Thomas B. Gregory. * January 25, 1786. One hundred and twenty-six years ago today—January 25, 1786—Thomas Jef ferson, at the time our minister to France, wrote a letter to Archibald Stuart, calling his attention to the condition of affairs between the Alleghanies and the Missis sippi, and in the course of his letter Mr. Jefferson said: “I fear that the people of Kentucky think of separating not only from Virginia (in which they are right), but also from the Confederacy. I own I should think this a most calam itous event, and such a one as every good citizen on both sides should set himself against. Our present Federal limits are not too large for good government, nor will the increase of votes in congress pro duce any ill effect. On the contrary, it will drown the little divisions at present existing there. Our Confederacy must be viewed as the nest from which all America, North and South, is to be peo ple. ’ ’ We have here in this letter of Jeffer son tho fountain-head of the expansion idea—not “imperialism” (that was a word that Jefferson would have scorned and detested), but the broadening out of American ideas and principles until they covered the whole American con tinent. Jefferson’s expansionist ideas were strongly expressed in his first inaugural address, when he said: “My -countrymen, we are rapidly ad vancing to destinies beyond the reach of mortal eye.” Several years before he had said to Madison, “I venture to say that the art which abandons the navigation of the Mississippi is an act to separate between the Eastern and Western country. ’ ’ With sublime desperation Jefferson held on to the great river, and he did it because he felt that the great West was destined to be a part of his country. He was thinking of Louisiana long be fore that great province became ours; and when he found out that Napoleoh was ready to part with the vast area he immediately authorized to purchase, with out waiting for the consent of anybody. He knew that curses and imprecations would be heaped upon him for his act, but he also knew that fundamentally, he was in the right—and he went ahead, re gardless of what might come to him in the way of abuse. The more we learn of Thomas Jeffer son the bigger does he seem to us. Dis tance only adds to the massiveness of the man. And the more thoroughly the archives are searched the clearer becomes his patriotism. He was a genuine Ameri can, believing in, and ever contending for, the very bedrock principles upon which true Americanism rests, and must ever rest. He had faith in the people, and was not afraid to trust them in the great untried experiment of self-government. While others trembled, he stood firm in the conviction that the people are able to take care of themselves; and that with an educated electorate, the future is safe. Our country ’b annals show none greater than Jefferson. Even a small man may have a large opinion of himself. SOME PEOPLE LAUGH AT THESE. The famour White Leghorn hen own ed by John Brohan, of Glenville, has performed another remarkable feat. Mr. and Mrs. Brohan went to Brooklyn last night to attend a wedding and did not return home until today. Their son was alone all night and would have over slept had not the hen tapped on his win dow with her beak and awakened him. While the boy was dressing the hen laid a fresh egg for his breakfast and helped do chores around the house. When the boy was ready for school he locked the door and gave the key to the hen, who placed it under her wing and hid it there until Mr. and Mrs. Brohan re turned. The letter carrier, grocer and butcher tried to get into the house, but the hen flew at them and drove them off. With such a hen around Mr. Brohan has no fear of leaving his house alone. ‘ ‘ They do say that some men like to eat crow, especially about election time, ’ ’ remarked a Cleveland man the other day as he looked at a few hundred sparrows flitting about the square. “But when a fellow doesn’t know the difference be tween crow and duck he isn’t much of a hunter. ’ ’ The man was talking to a number of sportsmen, among them being M. J. Hin- kel, went up around Sandusky Bay in quest of mallard, teal or redheads. By some sharp maneuvering the other hunt ers managed to separate themselves from Hinkel, who claims he’s second to no shot in Ohio. By and by they hear the ‘caw caw’ of a big flock of crows, and in quick succession followed two reports of a shotgun. “ ‘That's Matt shooting crows for ducks, ’ said one of the detached party. “And sure enough it was, for when they later met Sportsman Hinkel they opened his game bags and there were some crows. “ ‘Fine, aren’t they, boys! Nicest black teal- ducks I ever saw; going to give a feast to some of my friends when I go home,’ gleefully remarked Matt.” Who ate the crows for ducks is not yet known. For a good many years President Taft’s weight has stayed close to the 300-pound mark, sometimes a little less, sometimes a trifle more. On one occasion, when he was Gover nor of the Philippines, an old friend stopped off from a trip around the world, and, accordingly to the custom of old friends, proceeded to hand out a bunch of “taffy” to the big man. “Well, Bill,” he said, finally, “I wouldn’t worry about the heat out here. People tell me it’s taking the flesh off you in great style.” “I’m glad to hear it,” said Taft, greatly pleased. “Of course, it’s a lie— but tell it to me again.” “That Jones boy who used to work for you wants to hire out to me. Is he steady ’t’ “Steady! If he was any steadier he’d be motionless.” A drunken barber While shaving a minister cut him. “ There 1 you see what drink doesl ” exclaimed the divine. “Yes,” replied the barber, “it does make the skin tender.” “I wonder why the soldiers are in. Texas!” began the patrolman affably. The man sitting next to him in the car appeared to be surprised. “I didn’t know there were any sodiers in Texas,” he said. “Didn’t know there were soldiers in Texas!” said the officer. “Say, give me your name and address. You will be wanted on a jury one of these days.” WHEN WOMEN VOTE. “Jane Samantha,” said the husband, as he donned his hat and coat, “I would offer a suggestion ere you go to cast your vote. We have had a bitter struggle through this strenuous campaign, and the issues are important and they stand out clear and plain. Col. Whitehead stands for progress—for the uplift that we need; he invites investigation of his every word and deed. He’s opposed to all the ringsters and graft of every kind; he’s a man of spotless record, clean and pure in heart and mind. His opponent, Major Bounder, stands for all that I abhor; plunder, ring rule and corruption will see him working for; all the plug- gers and the heelers stood by him in this campaign—so I ask your vote for White- head and the uplift, dearest Jane. ’ ’ ‘ ‘ William Henry, ’ ’ said the housewife, “I am sorry to decline, but the wife of Col. Whitehead never was a friend of mine. Last July she gave a party—you recall her Purple Tea!—and invited all the neighbors, but she said no word to me. I don’t care about your issue or your uplift or your ring, but I won’t sup port the husband of that silly, stuck-up thing! ’ ’ Major Bounder was the victor on that day of stress and strife, for it seemed that many women didn’t like the Col onel’s wife.—Walt Mason. HE STUTTERED TOO. Three strangers were in the Pullman smoker, when one . of them turned to an other and asked: “H-How f-f-f-far is it t-t-to P-P-P- Pittsburg!” The man addressed made no reply, but got up and left the car. The stutterer then turned to the third man, who gave him tho information. A few moments afterward the third man met the one who had left the car, and said: ‘ ‘ See here! Why did you go out with out answering, when that man asked you a civil question!” “D-D-Do you think I w-w-wanted to g-g-g-get m-my head knocked off” was the answer. WHY HE WOULDN’T OBEY ORDERS. An Irish hod carrier was carrying mortar to the top of a skyscraper which was being built. One day he went up and couldn’t find his way down. The boss missed him and called up to him. “Pat,” he said, “why don’t you eome down!” “1 don’t know the way,” replied Pat. “Why, come down the way you went up.” “Faith and I’ll not,” said Pat; “sure, I came up head first.”