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****** THE ATLANTA GEORGIAN. FATURDAY. JT’LY 14. JURGIS BECOMES A BEGGAR—“JUNGLE” HERO A GUEST IN A MANSION : * Victim of Stockyards’ Methods Returns to Chicago and Finds Job in Tunnel, Where Injury Disables - Him and Sends Him Into Streets Helpless. Copyright, 1906, by Upton Sinclair. All right* reeerved. 1 CHAPTER XXII—(CONTINUED). When he anrolte fhe nun waa ehlnlng hot In his face. He aat up and etretehed hi* arm*, and then gated at the water gliding by. There waa a d». p pool, aheltered and silent, below him, and a sudden wonderful Idea rushed upon him. He might have a bath. The water wa* free, and he might get Into It—all the way Into It! It would be the flrat time that he had been all the way Into the water «lnc*| he left Lithuania! ■ When Jurgl* had flrat come to thel •tock yard* he had been aa clean a* any wofklngman could wall be. But later on, what with alcknea* and cold and hunger and dlecouragement, and the filthiness of hi* work, and the vermin In his home, he had given up washing In winter, and In summer only as much of him aa would go Into a basin. He had had a shower bath In jail, but nothing since—and now he would have a sWIm! The water waa warm, and he splash ed about like a very boy In his glee. Afterwards he sat down In the water near the bank and proceeded to scrub himself—soberly and methodically, scouring every Inch of him with sand. While he was doing It he would do It thoroughly, and see how It felt to be clean. Then, seeing that the sun waa still hot, he took his clothes from the bank and proceeded to wash them, piece by piece. Aa the dirt and grease went floating off down stream he grunted with satisfaction and soused the clothes again, venturing even to dresm that he might get rid of the fer tiliser. He hung them all up, and while they were drying he lay down In the sun and had another long sleep. They were hot and stiff as boards on top, and a little damp on the under side, when he awakened: but being hungry, he put them on and set out again. He had no knife, but with some labor he broke himself a good, stout club, and, armed with this, he marched down the road again. Before long he came to a big farm house, and turned up the lane that led to It. It wa* Just supper time, and th* farmer was washing his hands at the kitchen door. "Pleas*, sir," said Jurgls, "can I have something to eat? I can pay.” To which the farmer responded promptly, "We don't feed tramps here. Get out!" Jurgls went without a word. But as he passed round the barn he came to a freshly plowed and harrowed field. In which the farmer had set out some young peach trees: and as he walked he jerked up a row of them by the roots, more than a hundred trees In . all, before he reached th* ebd of the Held. That was his answer, and It showed his mood; from now on he was lighting, and the man who hit him would get all that h* gave, every time. Beyond the orchard Jurgls struck through a patch of woods, and then a Held of winter grain, and came at last to another road. Before long he saw another farm house, and, a* It waa beginning to cloud over a little, he asked here for shelter as well as food. Seeing the farmer eyeing him dubious ly, he added, "I'll be glad to sleep In tho barn." "Well. I dunno," said the other. "Do you smoke?" "Sometimes," |**!d Jurgls, "but I'll do It out of doors.” When the man had assented, he Inquired, "How much will It cost me? I haven’t very much money." "I reckon about 20 cents for sup per,” replied the farmer. "I won'.tl charge ye for the barn." So Jurgls went In,-and sat down at the table with th* farmer's wife and half a dosen children.. It waa a boun tiful meal—there were baked beans an>l mashed potatoes and asparagus chopped and stewed, and a dish of strawberries, and great, thick slices of bread, and a pitcher of milk. Jurgls bad not had such a feast since his welding day, and,he made a mighty effort to put In his 20 cents' worth. They were all of them too hungry to talk: but afterwards they sat upon the steps and smoked, and the farmer questioned his guest. When Jurgls had explained that he was a workingman from Chicago, and that he did not Know just whither he was bound, the other said, "Why don’t you stay here and work for m*7" "I’m not looking for work Just now," Jurgls answered. "I’ll pay ys good,” said the other, eyeing his big form—"a dollar a day and board ye. Help's terrible scarce round here.” "Is that winter as well a* summer?" Jurgls demanded quickly. "N-no,” said th* farmer: "I couldn't keep yo after November—I ain’t got a big enough place for that” • I see.” said th* other, "that's what I thought. When you get through working your horses this fall, will you turn them out In th* snow?” (Jurgls was beginning to think for himself nowadays.) "It ain't quit* the same,” th* farmer answered, seeing the point. "There ought to be work a strong fellow Ilk* v >u can find to do. In th* cities, or 1.,'u • place, In the winter time.” ••Yes,” said Jurgls, “that's what they nil think; and so they crowd Into the cities, and when they have to beg or ntcal to live, and people ask ’em why they don't go into the country, where help is scarce." The farmer meditated a while. ••How about when your money's gone?” he Inquired finally. “Xou'll have to, then, won't you?" "Walt till It’s gone.” said Jurgls; "then I'll see." , He had a long Bleep In the barn and then a big breakfast of cotter and bread and oatmeal and stewed cherries, for which the man charged him only It rents, perhaps having been Influenced by his arguments. Then Jurgls bade farewell, and went on his way. Such was the beginning of his life ns a tramp. It was seldom he got as fair treatment aa from this last farmer, and so as time went on he learned to shun the house and to prefer sleeping in the fields. When It rained he would And a deserted building, If he could, and If not, he would watt until after dark and then, with hla stick reedy, begin a stealthy approach upon a barn. Generally he could get In before the dog got scent of him, and then he would hide in the hay and be safe until morning; If not, and th* dog attacked bias, be would rise and make g retreat in battle order. Jurgls was not the mighty man he had once been, but his arm* were still good, and there were few farm dog* ke needed to hit more than once. Before long there cam* raspberries, and then blackberries, to help him save bis money; and there were apples In the orchard, and potatoes In the ground —he learned to note the place* and All hit pocket* after Hark. Twice he even managed to capture a chicken, and had a feast once In a deserted barn and the other time In a lonely spot along side of a stream. When all of these things failed him he used his money carefully, but without worry—for he saw he could earn more whenever he chose. Half an hour's chopping wood In his lively fashion was enough to bring him a meal, and when the farmer had seen him working he would some time* try to bribe him to stay. But Jurgls was not staying. He was a free man now, a buccaneer. The old wanderlust had got Into his blood, th* joy of the unbound life, th* Joy of seek ing, of hoping without limit. There were mishaps and discomforts—but at least there wo* always something new and only think whnt It meant to l man who for years had been penned up In one place, seeing nothing but on* dreai rles, . the open sky, to behold new landscapes, new places and new people every hour! To a man whose whole life had Con sisted of doing one certain thing all day, until he was so exhausted that he could only lie down and sleep until the next day—and to be now hla own master, working as he pleased and when ha pleased, and facing a new ad venture every hourl Then, too, hla health came back to him, all hla lost youthful vigor, his joy and power that he had mourned and forgotten! It came with a sudden rush, bewildering him, startling him; It was ns If his dead childhood had come back to him, laughing and calllngl TVhat with plenty to eat and fresh air and exercise that was taken as It pleased him, he would awaken from his sleep and start off not knowing what to do With his energy, stretching his arms, laughing, singing old songs of home that came back to him. Now and then, of course, he could not help but think of little Antanas, whom he should never see again; whose little voice he should never hear; apd then he would have to battle with hlmeelf. Sometime* at night he would waken dreaming of Ona and stretch out his arms to her, and wet the ground with his tears. But In the morning he would get up and shake himself, and stride uway again to battle with the world. He never asked where ho was nor where he was going; the country was big enough, he knew, and there was no danger of hie coming to the end of It, And of course he could nlways have company for the asking—everywhere he went there were men living Just as he lived, and whom he was welcome to Join. He wo* a stranger at the busi ness, but they were not clannish, and they taught him all their tricks—what towns and villages It was best to keep away from, and how to read the secret signs upon th* fences, and when to beg and when to steal, and Just how to do both. They laughed at his Ideas of paying for anything with money or with work—for they got all they want ed without either. Now and then Jur ... some woodland haunt, and foraged with them In the neighborhood at night. And then among tljem some one would "take a shine” to ntm, and they would go off together and travel for a week, exchanging reminiscences. Of these professional tramps a great many had. of course, been shiftless and vicious all their lives. But the vast majority of them had been working men. had fought the long light a* Jur is had, and found that It waa n losing Jght, and given up. Later on he en countered yet another sort of men, those from whose ranks the tramps were recruited, men who were home less and wandering, but atilt seeking work—seeking It In the harvest fields. Of these there was an army, the huge surplus labor army of society: called Into being under the stern system of nature, to do the casual work of the world, th* teaks which were transient and Irregular, and yet which had to be done. They did not know that they were such, of course; they only knew that they sought the Job, and that th* Job was fleeting. In* the early rummer they would be In Texas, and aa th* crops 'were ready they would follow north with the season, ending with th* fall In Manitoba. Then they would seek out the big lumber camps, where there waa winter work; or falling In this, would drift to th* cities, and live upon what they had managed to save, with th* help of such transient work as wa* there—the loading and unloading of steamships and drays, the digging* of ditches and the shovelling of snow. If there were more of them on hand than chanced to be needed, the weaker ones died off of cold and hunger, again according to th* stern system of nature. ' ... It wa* in th* latter part of July, when Jurgls wa* In Missouri, that he came upon the harvest Work. Here were crop* that men had worked for three or four month* to prepare, and of which they would lose nearly all unless they could find others to help them for a week or two. So all over the land there was a cry for labor- agencies were set up and all the cltlee were drained of men. even college boys were brought by the car load, and hordes of frantic farmers would hold up trains and carry off wagon loads of men by main force. Not that they did not pay them well—any man could get two dollars a day and his board, and the best men could get two dollars and a halt or three. Th* harvest fever was In the very air and no man with any spirit In him could be In that region and not catch It. Jurgls Joined a gang and worked from dawn till dark, eighteen hours a day, for two weeks without a break. Then he had a sum of money that would have been a fortune to him In the old dajr* of misery—but what could he do with It now? To be sure, he might have put It In a bonk. and. if ho were fortunate get It back again when he wanted It. But Jurgls was now n homeless man, wandering over a conti nent, and what did hn know of bank ing and drafts and letter* of credit? If he carried the money with him he would rarely be robbed In the end, and so what was there for him to do but enjoy It while he could? On a Satur day night he drifted Into a town with hi* fellows, and because It was rain ing, and there was no other place pro vided for him, he went to a saloon. And there were some who treated him and whom he had to treat, and there was laughter and singing and good cheer; and then out of the rear part of the Saloon a girl's fare, red cheeked and merry, smiled at Jurgls, and his heart thumped suddenly In his throat. He nodded to her, and she came and sat by him, and they had more tjrink. And then because of his memories and shame, he. was glad when others joined them, men and women; and they hod more drink and spent the night In wild rioting and debauchery. In th* van of the surplus-labor army there fol lowed another, an army of wonten, they Brass Beds, The latest and moat exclu sive designs manufactured. Quality and Prices Unequaled. The best expression of btgh grade solid Rrass Tubing construction ever exhibited In the South. Samples on Exhibition in Atlanta. ARTISTIC DESIGNS WITH ESTIMATES ON REQUE8T Factory Capacity 50 Beds Per Day. THE METAL ART CO., Southern Representatives UNITED SALES AGENCY, 8eltlng Experts. Fourth National Dank Bldg. ATLANTA. system of nature. Because there were rich men who sought pleasure, there had been ease and plenty for them so long as they were young and beauti ful; and, later on. when they were crowded out by others younger and more beautiful, they went out to fol low upon the trail of th* workingmen. Sometimes they cam* of themselves, and the saloon-keeper* shared with them; or sometimes they were handled by agencies, the sam* aa the labor army. They were in the towns harvest time, near the lumber camps In the winter, In th* cities when the men came there; If a regiment were encamped, or a railroad or canal be ing made, or a great exposition get ting ready, the crowd of women were on hand, living In shanties or saloons or tenement rooms, sometimes eight or ten of them together. In the morning Jurgls had not cent, and he went out upon the road again. He was sick and disgusted, but after the new plan of his life he crushed hla feelings down. He had mad* a fool of himself, but he could not help It now—all he could do was to see that It did not happen again. So he tramped on until exercise and fresh air banished his headache, and hla strength and Joy returned. This hap pened to hint every time, for Jurgls was still a creature of Impulse, and his pleasures hod not yet become busi ness It would be a long tlm* before he could be like the majority of these men of the road, who roamed until the hunger for drink and for women mas fared them and then went to work with a purpose In mind and stopped when they had th* price of a spree. . On the contrary, try as he would, Jurgls could not help being made mis erable by his conscience. It was the ghost that would ttot down. It would oome upon him In the most unexpected places—sometimes it fairly drove him to drink. One night he was caught by a thun der storm and he sought shelter In a little house Just outside of a town. It waa a workingman's home, and the owner was a Slav like himself, a new emigrant from White Russia; he bade Jurgls wslcome In his home language, and told him to come to th* kitchen fire and dry himself. He had no bed for him, but there was straw In the garret, and he could make out. The man's wife was cooking the supper, and their chlldran were playing about on the floor. Jurgls sat and exchanged thought* with him about the Old Coun try and th* places where they had been and the work they had done. Then they ate, and afterward sat and smoked and talked more about Amer ica and how they found It In the mid dle of a sentence, however, Jurgla stopped, seeing that th* woman had brought a big basin of water and was proceeding to undress her youngest baby. The rest had crawled Into the cloeet where they slept, but th* baby was to have a bath, th* workingman explained. The nights had begun to be chilly, and his mother. Ignorant as to th* climate Ih America, had sewed him up for th* winter; then It had turned warm again, and some kind of a rash had broken out on the child. The doc tor had said she must bathe him every night, and th* foolish woman believed him. Jurgls scarcely heard the explana tlnn; he was watching the baby. He was about a year old, and a sturdy lit tle fellow, with soft, fat legs, and a round ball of a stomach, and eyes ss black aa coals. His pimple* did not seem to bother him much, and he was wild with glee over th* bath, kicking and squirming and chuckling with de light, pulling at his mother's face and then at his own little toe*. When ah* put him Into the basin he sat In the midst of It and grinned, splashing the water over himself and squealing like a little pig. He spoke In Russian, of which Jurgls knew some; he spoke It with the quaintest of baby accents— and every word of It brought back to Jurgls some word of his own dead little one, and stabbed him like a knife. He aat perfectly motionless, silent, but gripping his hands tightly, while a Stop* gathered In his bosom and a Hood heaped Itself up behind his eyes And In the end he could bear It no more, but burled his fare In hi* hands and burst Into tears, to the alarm and amarement of his hosts. Between the shame of this and his woe, Jurgls could not stand It, and got up and rushed out Into the rain. tic went <n and on down the rose, finally coming to a black woods, where he hid and wept as If his heart would break. Ah, what agony was that, what despair, when the tomb of memory wa* rent open and the ghosts of hts old life came forth to scourge him! What terror to see what he had been and now could never be—to see Ona and hi* child and his own dead self etretch- Ing out their arm* to him, calling to him across a bottomless abyss—and to know that they were gone from him forever, and he writhing and suffocat ing In the mlr* of hla own vllenesel chaptIr XXIII. Early In the fall Jurgls set out foi; Chicago again. All the joy went out of tramping a* soon os a man could not keep warm In the hay. and, like many thousands of others, he deluded himself with the hope that by coming early he could avoid tb* rush. He SYNOPSIS OF PREVIOUS CHAPTERS Tho story of “The Jungle.” Upton Sinclair’s novel, which caused the government Investigation Into the methods employed by the lieef Trust, has its origin in an actual Packingtown romance. A simple-minded coterie of Lithuanians arrive In Chicago, seeking employment, and are conducted to Packingtown by a friend. Jurgls, a giant In strength. Is betrothed to Ona. and the first chapter tells of the woddlng-ln all Its grotes-iueness. After much tribulation the entire family obtains work in the stockyards— all but Ona, who, Jurgls said, should never work. The terrible tale of the slaughter houses Is told with almost revolting detail—the tilth, the overworking of handB, the struggle to keep up with the pacemakers. Is all vividly depicted. The little family buys a house on the instalment plan, only to And they have been swindled, and Ona Is forced to seek work to meet the actual living expenses and the Interest on the purchase contract, of which they learn too late. Just aa Ona and Jurgls pay Marija what they owe her, Jurgls turns his ankle and Is laid up for monttiB. His nature Ix-glne to change. He becomes croas and savage with pain. Starvation stares the fan\ ly In the f/ire. Then Ona confesses, under compulsion, that In order to save the entire family from Ananclal destruction and loss of Jobs, Connor, foreman of her department In tho yards, had forced her to receive attentions from him. Jurgls almost kills her. Thsn he rushes blindly to the yards and tries to kill Connor, sinking his teeth Into him, anil Is dragged off by a dozen men. Jurgls Is then arrested, and spends Christmas Eve in prison, awaiting trial. Later he Is sentenced to thirty days In prison. Finally he Is released and returns to what was once his home. Another family has It. Jurgls traces Ills family to a shanty to And hjs wife dying. He seeks a midwife, who laughs In his face when he tells her he ha* only a dollar and a quarter, but she Anally relents and goes with him. At the door of the shanty Marija meets and entreats him to go away until tho morning. He walks the streets aU night, and reaches home in the morning In time to close his wife's eyes In death. Then ho takes to drink In earnest. Jurgls is blacklisted In every pocking house by Connor, but Annlly obtains a Job with the Harvester Trust. The department In which he work* closes down .Starvation again Is Imminent, but a philanthropic woman came to his rescue and gets the Lithuanian a job In a steel factor}’. Meanwhile the hero's son has died, nnd ho la left practically alone In th* world, with resentment against conditions gradually growing stronger In him. Copyright, 1206, by Upton Sinclair. A11 rights reserved. brought Afteen dollars with him, hid den nway In one of his shoes, a sam which had been saved from his saloon keepers, not so much by hls conscience as by the fear which Ailed him at the thought of being out of work In the city 1 lh the winter time. He traveled upon the railroad with several other men, hiding In freight cars at night, and liable to be thrown off at any time, regardless of the speed of the train. When he reached th* city he left th* rest, for he had money and they did not. and he meant to save himself In this Aght. He would bring to It ail the eklll that practice had brought him, and he would stand, who ever fell. On fair nights he would sleep In the park or on a truck or an empty barrel or box, and when It was rainy or cold he would stow himself upon a shelf In a ten-cent lodging bouse, or pay three cent* for the priv ileges of a "squatter” In a tenement hallway. He would eat at free lunches, live cents a meal, and never a cent more—so he might keep alive for tvo months and more, and In that time h^ would surely And a Job. He would have to bid farewell to hls summer cleanliness, of course, for he would com* out of the Arst night's lodging with hls clothes alive with vermin. There was no place In the city where he could wash even hls face, unless he went down to the lake front, nnd there It would soon be all Ice. First, he went to the steel mill and the harvester workiy and found that hi* places there had been Ailed long ago. He waa careful to keep away from the stock yards—he was a single man now, he told himself, and he meant to stay one, ta have hls wages for hla own when he got a Job. He began the long, weary round of factories and warehouses, tramping all day, from one pnd of the city to the other, Andlng every where from ten to a hundred men ahead of him. He watched the newspapers, too—but no longer was he to be taken In by smooth-spoken agents. He had been told of all those tricks while "on tho road." In tho end It was through a news paper that ho got a Job, after nearly a month of seeking. It was a call for a hundred laborers, nnd 'though he thought It a ''fake," he went because the place was near by. He found a line of men a block long, but as a wagon chanced to come out of an alley and break the line, he saw hls chance and sprang to seise a place. Men threatened him and tried to throw him out, hut he cursed and made a dis turbance to attract a policeman, upon which they subelded, knowing that If the latter Interfered It would be to 'Are” them all. Ah hour or two later he entered a room and confronted a big Irishman behind a desk. "Ever worked In Chicago before?" the nmn Inquired, and whether It waa a good angel that put Into Jurgls' mind, or an Intuition of hls sharpened wits, he woe moved to answer. "No, sir." "Where do you come from?” “Kansas City, sir.” "Any references?” "No, sir. I'm Just an unskilled man. I've got good arms.” •1 want men for hard work—It's all underground, digging tunnels for tele phones. Maybe It won't suit you.” “I'm willing, sir—anything for me. Whit’s th* pay?" “Fifteen cents an hour.” "I'm willing, sir.” * "All right; go back there and give your name." So within half an hour he waa at work, far beneath the sjreel* of the city. Th* tunnel was a peculiar on* for telephone wire*; It was about eight feet high, and with a level Aoor nearly as wide. It had Innumerable branches —a perfect spider-web beneath the city; Jurgls walked over half a mil* with hls gang to the place where they were to work. Stranger yet, the turn nel waa lighted by electricity, and upon It waa laid a double-tracked, narrow- gauge railroad! But Jurgls was not there to ask questions, and he did not give the mat ter a thought. - It was nearly a year afterwards when he Anally learned the meaning of this whole affair. Th* city council had passed a quiet and Inno cent little bill allowing a company to construct telephon* conduits under the city streets and upon the strength of this, a great corporation had proceeded to tunnel all Chicago with a system of railway freight subways In th* city there was a combination of employers, representing hundreds of millions of capital, and formed for the purpose of crushing the labor unions The chief union which troubled It was the teamsters; and when these freight tunnel* ware completed, con- had been In the rear of the saloon of one of them. It was In a hewly opened cut that Jurgls worked, and so he knew that he had an all winter Job. He was so re joiced that he treated himself to a spree that night, and with the balance of hls money he hired himself a place In tenement room, where he slept upon big home-made straw mattress along with four other workingmen. This was 21 a week and for floor more ho got hla food In a boarding house near hls work. This would leave him four dollars ex tra each week, an unthinkable sum for him. At the outset he had to pay for hlk digging tools, and also to buy a pair of heavy boots, since hls shoes wer* falling to pieces, and a Aannel shirt, since the one he had worn all summer was In shreda^^^HI^H^B ■ He spent a week meditating whether or not he should also buy an ovsreoaL Thor* was ons belonging to a Hebrew collar button peddler, who bad died In the room next to him, and which the landlady was holding for her rent; In th* end, however, Jurgls decided to do without It, as he was to be under ground by day and In bed at night. This was an unfortunate decision, however, for It drove him more quickly than ever Into the saloons. From now on Jurgls worked from 7 o'clock until 6:10, with half an hour for dinner, which meant that he never saw the eunllght on week day*. In the eve nings there wa* no place for him to go except to a barroom; no place where there wax light and warmtn, where he could hear a little muelo or alt with a companion and talk. lie had now no home to go to; he had no affection left In hi* life; only the pitiful mockery of It In th* camaraderie of vice. On Sun day* th* churches were open, but where Was thero a church in which an 111- smelltng workingman could sit without seeing people edge away and look an noyed ? He had, of course, hts comer In a close though unhealed room, with a window opening upon a blank wall two feet away; and also he hod the bare streets, with the winter gales sweeping through them; besides this he had only the saloons—and, of course, he had to drink to stay In them. If he drank now and then he was free to mako himself at home, to gam ble with dice or a pack of greasy cards. ■mafoMfomritai hie for money, nectlng all the big factories and stores with the railroad depots, they would have the Teamsters’ Union by the throat. Now and then there were ru mor* and murmurs In th* board of al derman, and once there was a commit' lee to Investigate—but each tlm* aw other small fortune was paid over, and the rumor* died away; until at last the city woke up with a start to And the work completed.. There wa* a tre mendous acsndal, of course; It was found that the city records had been falslfted and other crime* committed, and some of Chicago's big capitalists got into Jail—figuratively speaking. The aldermen declared that they had no Idea of It all. In spite of th* fact that th* main entrance to the work S KlciUUc l/f llacat Hi Wbisktj, Opium, M§r- ai.il. Cetiite. CHull, Tj9.fi. i.4 hyraithi. ■la 9t Sarra blielllii. Tbs Only Keeie; Initl- Idle in Gtorgii. 235 Capitol An., ATLANTA, 6A. and WHISKEY HABITS cured at home with out pain. Book of par ticulars sent FRKE, B. M. WOOLLEY. M. D. pink ... paper," with pictures of derers and half-naked women. Ii for such pleasures as these that he spent hls money; and such was hls life during the six weeks and a half that he tolled for the merchants of Chicago, to enable them to break the grip of their Teamsters' Union. In a work thus carried out, not much thought was given to the welfare of the laborers. On an average, (he tun nelling coet a life a day and several mangling!; It was seldom, however, that more than a dozen nv two men heard of any one accident. The work was all done by the new boring ma chinery, with as little blasting as pos sible; but there would be falling rock* and crushed supports and premature explosions—and In addition all the dangers of railroading. Bo It was that one night, a* Jurgls was on hls way out with hls gang, an engine and a loaded car dashed around on* of th* Innumerable right-angle branches and struck him upon the shoulder, hurllni him against the concrete wall ant knocking him eenseless. When he opened hls ej was to th* clanging of the bell of an ambulance. He waa lying In it, cov- erad by a blanket, and It was thread ing Its Way slowly through the holiday shopping crowds. They took him to th* county hospital, whara a young surgeon act hls arm; thsn h* was washed and laid upon a bed In a ward with a scar* ,or two more of maimed and manglad men. Jurgls spent hi* Christmas In this hospital, and It was th* pleasantest Christmas h* had had In America. Every year thar* ware scandals and Investigations In this Institution, th* newspapers charging that doctors wara allowed to try fantaatlo experiments upon ths patients; but Jurgls knsw nothing of this—hls only complaint waa that they used to fead him upon tinned meat, which no man who had ever worked In Packingtown would feed to hla dog. Jurgla had often wondered Just who ate the canned corned beef and "roast beef of the stock yards; now h* began to understand—that It waa what you might call "graft meat," put up to be sold to public offlclals and contractors, and eaten by soldiers and sailors, prisoners and Inmates of Instltulons, "shanty-men” and gangs of railroad laborers. Jurgls was ready to leave the hos pital at th* end of two weeks. This did not mean that ,ils arm was, strong and that he was able to go back to work, but simply that h* could get along without further attention, and that hla plac* was needed for aoma one worse off than he. That he waa utterly helpless, and had no means of keeping himself alive In the meantime waa something which did not concern the hospital authorities, nor any on* else In the city. A* It chanced, he had been hurt on a Monday, and had Just paid for hla last week's board and hls room rent, and spent nearly all the balance of hla Saturday's pay. He had less tbqp 72 cents In hla pockets, and $1.20 due him for the day's work h* had done before he was hurt. He might possibly have sued the company, and got some dam ages for hls injuries, but he did not know this, and It was not the com pany's business to tall him. He went and got bis pay and hla tools, which he left In a pawnshop for 20 cent*. Then he went to hls landlady, who had rented hie place and had no other for him; and then to Me bearding house keeper, who looked him over and ques tioned him. Aa ha must certainly be helpless for a couple of month*, and had boarded there only six weak*, she decided vary quickly that It would not be worth the risk to keep him on trust. So Jurgls went out Into the streets. In a most dreadful plight It was bit terly cold, and a heavy snow waa fall ing, beating Into hls face. He had no overcoat, and no place to go, and two earn another cent for month*. The snow meant no chance to him now; he must walk along and see others shov eling, vigorous and active—and he with hls left arm bound to hls side! He could not hope to tide himself over by odd Jobs of loading trucks; be could then one had to buy another drink or move on. That Jurgls was an m2 customer entitled him to a somewhlt longer stop; but then he had been airav two weeks, and was evidently "on th. . H i? ml * h ‘ P Ieart and tell hi* "hard luck story," but that would nni help him much. A saloon keeper who was to be moved by such means would soon have hla place Jammed to th. doors with "hoboes" on a dav ilk. mi. on a day like this So Jurgla went out Into another i ia.-k and paid another nickel. He was ,, hungry this time that he could not re slst the hot beef stew, an Indulgent, which cut short hlsA stay by a consid! crable time. When he was again told to move on he made hls way to . "tough" place In the "Levee" district where now and then he had gone with a certain rat-eyed Bohemian working, man of hls acquaintance. It was j U r gls' vain hope that here the proprietor would let him remain as a "sitter" In low-class places. In the dead of winter, saloon keepers would often al low one or two forlorn-looking bum, who came In covered with snow or sonked with rain to sit by the Are and look miserable to attract custom, a workingman would come In, feeling cheerful after hla day’s work was ov t f nnd tt would trouble him to have to take hls glass with such a sight under hls nose: and so he would call our "Hello, Bob, what's the matter? You look as If you'd been Ud against It!" And then the other would begin to pour out some tale of misery, nnd the man not even sell newspapers or carry maybe thaVll^brace’veu ifn"**And*^ satchel*,, because he was now at the they wou i<j drink together, and - If the tramp was sufficiently wretched look- lng. or good enough at the "gab," they might have two; and If they were to discover that they were from the same country, or had lived In .the same city or worked nt the same trade, they might sit down at a table and spend an hour or two In talking, and before they got through the saloon keeper would have taken in a dollar. All of this might seem diabolical, but the sa loon keeper was in no wise to blame for It. He waa In the same plight a« the manufacturer who has to adulter ate and misrepresent hls product. I( he does not. some one else will; and the saloon keeper, unless he Is also an alderman, is apt to be In debt to the big brewers, and on the verge of being aold ouL (Continued in Monday's Georgian.) merey of nny rival. Words could not paint the terror thnt came over him as hr realized all tills. He nas like a wounded animal In the forest; he was forced to compete with Ills enemies upon unequal terms. There would be no consideration for’ him because of hla weakness—It was no one's business to help him In such distress, to make tho Aght the least bit easier for him. Even If he toak I > begging .u'd be at a disadvantage, for reasons which he was to discover In good time. In the beginning he could not think of anything except getting out of the awful cold. He went Into one of the saloons he had been wont to frequent and bought s drink, and then stood by the Are shivering and waiting to be or dered out According to an unwritten law, the buying a drink Included the prlvltego of loaAng for just so long; KING OF ENGLAND FI Becomes Frightened After Bomb Outrage at Madrid. By RICHARD ABERCORN, Special to tho (Jeorjfian. London, July 14.—ft Is on open secret nt court that for tho first tlino In hls llfo Kins Kdwnrtl Is beginning to experience wholesome dread of snarchlsts. Since the outrage st Madrid, the king las shown a marked dislike to driving In a Torsed carriage. Whenever It Is possible, 19 uses one of his inOior enrs, and being exsuipt from the ordinary snood regulations of the road, he travels ns fast as possible. The reason for tills nervousness Is tho ’act that a fortnight ago, the Scotland i’nrd detectives obtained possession of n letter Miowlng tlmt the must ilnngcrnm* ng of anarchists have now added King ■ ' - 2 *- •* ' —— - .IrnH icun '• The original anonymous letter to which ths police Attach some Importance Is In pos session of tho king, who appeared to pass ■".<•!■ tlic niMttoi- lightly. Th.« letter Inin been shown almost jokingly to various mem bers of tho royal household, but at the same time It Is known thnt ihe detectives are watching well known Anarchists more closely than they have ever done before. The shameful way poor Irish women are m.Hi** to work for no wages at all bis been described Iwfore a government committee by Factory Inspector Itoea M. Squire. * or pnymenMn< CHUBBY CHARLEY, CAPITOL LANDMARK Continued from Psg* Fiv,. the north of Speaking of ths •'truck,” ( clml, system, as worked In Ireland, Miss Squire said: "In Donegal. 1 found that poor women walk many miles Into towns, where wool Is given out to them, which they take back to their aaualld cabins and knit into stock- .— — -*■ payment, ex- the former be- m at li 5d s Dound (if centa5,"tha* ordinary prior for good ten being 10 or 20 cent,). No money p»i«d sad the worker* ctn not get coin,” Before (he ran **rn her pound of tea, th, wretched peasant has to knit tome two end a half dosen pair of ,tocklngs. which are afterward! Mkt retail at tl.20 to It a pair. 'The bnu,ea of the workers, continued Mia, Squire, ‘‘are lanlated, one-siory cabins, perched on roek, soil or standing In bogs, with mud doom, and generally a cow, and, perhaps, a calf, but always a pig, with cocks snd bens In the living room/ moat Engllab pcopli couniesara aa culture. The paper ba, over thirty editor,. In Society with a eapltal 8 It waa qnlte Im possible to bar* only one editor, so all be contributor! have been made editors, nd the heartrendlngs have been avoided. Among tbeee distinguished Journalist, tr* ’rincem Christian, th, dneheu of ttomerect, lady Victoria Manner,, Huaan, countess of tltlmtsburj; dowager counter, of Dud ley, dowager conntrss of <Iottenh,m, coun- t*u of torttou, lady Archibald Campbell, Viscountess Galway, Lady Montague of leaulleu. Lady Ana strong, Lady Helen Fortin, Lady Augaita Fa nr. II on. I-ady lelllnsham, Hon. Mrs.. Anstratber, lion. Sybil Leigh. I-ady Palmer, I-ady Buaan Yorks, th* mac* of Sarawak. Lady Ilroome. rlncMS Henry of l’less La. Princess De- eaaagne, the Marches* DlConseutlne, and _ dozen other persons of less distinguished Tb, vulgar public was considerately given an opportunity of seeing the flrat number which was sold tt the newspaper stand, for n .hilling. The following num- b*n, however, are not available, except " yearly sn' fs current rthers will lefoacop* b permitted ever for a job, ten years st It ought to demonstrate It In 18(4 Charles Northen, minus much of the rotundity st the belt llhe snd the white In th, hair, but with the "I’ll-do-lt-for-you- If-lt-busta-a-trace" air then upon hi, open and.pleasant countenance, qpme to the senate as assistant to Secretary Bill” Clifton. The late W. H. Ven- able was president Qf the upper house. Through the Venable presidency In 1894-B and the term of Robert L. Ber ner, 18(6-7, Mr. Northen served os as sistant to Secretary Clifton. He "mad* good” in great shape. Men who cam, up to Atlanta as lawmakers began to know and regard with favor thl, cherubic-faced young man. Then the senate of 1808-9 was elect ed and W. C. Dodson was named os the presiding offleer. Charley Northen was elected secretary of the body easily over what waa considered strong oppo sition. - And there he remains placidly mov ing through the dally routine of th* sessions. He was with Clark Howell In hls two tenures os president, from 1900 to 1904. When this senate was elected a contest came on for the pres idency of the body .that laated through some days. But Charley Northen had the Job of secretary cinched whoever might be the man. Oppoiition Always Melts. Opposition he has nearly always had, but It has' melted away usually before the selection was made. Once a rival candidate got Ave votes. That's aa near aa any fellow has ever com* to depoilng him. And the odds are that he will be tt the same old stand doing bualnaas when the senate of 1907-8 la called to ord«r by whoever Is selected for th* presidency. One of the secrets of hls success— which will be wantonly divulged her*— Is the fact that he surrounds himself with good men as hit aids In th* cler ical work of the eenate. Captain Charles P. Hansel), of Thomnsvllle, la assistant secretary; Judge Tyson, cal endar clerk: Guerry Brannon, of Georgetown, chief clerk, and Flyna Hargett, of Columbus, messenger. To ninety-nine men out of a hun dred the Hon. Charles S. Northen I* Ju«t "Charley." He Is the kind of a K hlal personality that Invites It, and cause he Is "Charley" to them M continues as secretary of the Georgia senate, though the political fortune* of other men rlae only to crumble In dual. WEEK-END RATES FF ATLANTA VIA to remain on the ■uhecrlptton ta. The new publication tjposraphl- Ilv Is a hamlaome affair, bat with aoch staff of editors the letter press la sur- !L£ WOOLLEY.M.D. overcoat, ana no piece in RO, anu iwu F Atlanta, G a. Office lOtN. Pryor street, dollars snd slxty-flve cents In his pock et, with the certainty that he could not PH singly disappointing. Tb* seeretn of courts and the wonderful aiorlea that the advance notice* of the publication lend Ibe public to believe would appear were con- splcuoua by their absence. tt ta a curious circumstance that, though the name of Princess Christian wan laelad- ed In th* list of editors, her name Is miss ing from the flrat number. It la believed' that the king ha* pat His foot down os the princess' incursion Into Journalism. _T WUly, who la said to he Ibe greatest sugar Icing expert In the world. They are made of pink mareaptn. and the lettering la don* Tn the flneat sugar Icing, lurtoaed In n lit tle box, which I* propped upright by the •Me of every guest's plate, th* edlbl* menu In an ornament, aa well sa s bosno bouche. •. Tallulah Falls Mt. Airy *. Llthla Springs Indian Springs .. Warm 8prlngt Cumberland Island .. Atlantic Beach .. .. . Lookout Mountain .. St. Simons Asheville Lake Toxaway Tryon Saluda Gainesville ... Toceoa ... ... .. Noreroes Suwanee Tallapoosa White Sulphur Tickets on eale every Saturday 5- cd to return following Monday. J. C. BEAM, JRv D- p> *■ 3J5 22.40 .. •“ .. 3.00 .. .. »•» .. 10.1* .. 4-<° .. «■» .. 7.95 8.7® „ 8.90 «■** .. 1*2® .. 2JO . •» . J* . 2D0 . 1J®