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4 T THE TUNNEL GREATEST STORY OF ITS KIND SINCE JULES VERNE CTrotn the German of Feruhtrd KrUerroann— |}r-n in rp-Atnn CopyriMh e<1. 1»13. by *. pucher Verlag. Berlin. Lngliah traualation and mini ''at < n Os (Copyrighted. 1813, by International News Serrioa.). TO-DAY’S INSTALLMENT. it?” retoi’ed Allan, grim’v. "Well, you tell them that they’ll go to work in three days or clear out of here. See if that get ’em!” Opposition. This ultimatum did not have ex actly the effect that Allan had hoped. The immediate result was a series jf monster mess meetings on the great dumping plain by the sea. where speakers addressed crowds of from fifty to a hundr J thousand from 3 score of wngon^ and in a S'*ore f tongues. This gave Ai.an an iuefL He cynic.. 11 y bribed half a dozen >f the influential leaders and sent them out to make speeches also. These last worked conse!eutiou::ly— the word is used wit 'out Irony—to earn their money. They pointed out the magni cent hospitals where the injured were cared for free o r charge while their pay went on just as if they were working their eight hours daily under the sea. They bade the workmen cons’der * their sanitary dwellings wh«-re they lived rent free and comrare their ’ot with that of other workmen. They dwelt on the fact that up until this unforeseeable disaster few men had been killed in comparison with other industries where the work was sup posed to be much safp- And finally. "The w inter is coming on,” they cried. "Here it is October and if we do not go back to work ' here, where will we work? Two hun dred thousand men will be suddenly dumped into the market for labor. We will have to take jobs away from other men at lower wages. We will get less pay and worse treatment. How many of you can earh $3 in eight hours anywhere else?” For a time these arguments seemed to be making headway, but only for a short time. The opposing orators were silenced. Their slogan was tin t “mile and a half of coffins” that had come out of the tunnel Their vocal chords, too. were strengthened with a golden tonic. f Th> Shipping Trust, rot daring to fight in the open, spared no money or effort to cripple the tunnel enterprise in tfie dark. "They tell yo<i that onlv five thou sand men have been killed since tb^ tunnel work began rear? ago.” shouted one. "Yeu, but what of the twenty thousand that break down every year and are turned adrift ir. the streets or die in the poorhouses! No man can stan^ th 5 s hellish work! It is better, my friends, to get less pav and live to a decent old age.” Allan Speaks. Allan himself was indefatigable. H j worked with a feverish energy as ’f he felt that only by overworking hi: mind and body could he shut out the voice of £}rief—the thought of th“ ashes of \his wife and child in the New York vault and Rives in the hos pital. And as he worked and fought slowly there came back to him the old belief in himself and in h s mighty project. And one afternoon he went out to address the strikers himself. For twenty-four hours the event had been advertised and the great level plain was packed with thou sands and thousands. Allan, mounted upon the seat of an auto-truck, spoke through a megaphone and his words were repeated by other speakers with meeaphones s>o that all could hear. When the big truck slowly pushed its way through to the appointed spot. Allan on the seat with the driver, b was received 5 n dead silence. He did not yet realize what the American who had spoken in the conference un derstood perfectly—that arguments could not possibly be of any avail, for the ears of the workmen were shut with terror—a de^p grinping horror of a death bv fire and smoke shock in that rathole under the waters. But they heard him in silence. He talked for an hour and brought un every power of simple reasonin'? he could summon, and as he neared the end it seemed for a time that the delegate of the conference was wrong; for he could feel that, he was winning them. "It is true that this work has killed several thousand men,” he shouted. "You know me—everyone of you knows me. You know that 1 have been fair and generous—and you know how terribly this disaster has struck at me. But, work, my friends, is killing hundreds of men every day in every quarter of the world. Work Is killing ten men an hour in New York City to-day—but no one in New York thinks of quitting work on that acountw The sea kills twenty thous and human being a year, but no one quits the sea on that account; the work on the sea goes on just the same. "You have lost friends, relatives, in this aoident. So have I, but I shall not quit because of that. You have been told that you /u*e working for a svnd!ca*e—to make a few rich men richer—but I tell vou, my friends, that no little handful of capitalists can ever own th’s tunnel. These men are working for vou. When this tun nel is finished the people of the old and new worlds will own It. That Is as certain as the sunrise. It will be come yours as naturally and surelv as the air vou breathe. Na handful • >f men epn hold you back from that. Terror Rules. “You are told that I am working because it is making me rich. That is noi true. I was rich enough for one man before the flr~* spade was driver, into the gro”*^ where we stand. We who are building this irrnel—vou and I—are building fo« our children and our children’s chil dren. Every man who gives un his i fe for this work is a saint in the reli gion of labor, which is the religion of our t'me. "Anv man who turns back now is 4 coward and cowards are not need ed here. But I ca 11 e*n v©u as brave men. men who are big enough and brave enough to work for a big and brave thing, to come back with me and conquer the earth.” He ceased and lowered the mega phone to show, that he had finished There was an instant's silence and then -a rippling, ragged cheer that swelled louder and louder and sud denly stopped, as if a hand had been pressed against every mouth. It was ♦he hand of terror, the terror they had for a few moments forgotten. That night there was another big meeting and the next day the leaders told Allan that the men would not return to work. He gave orders that all strikers should vacate their houses within forty-eight hours. WHAT HAS CONE BEFORE The story opens with Rives, who is jn charge of the technical work ings of the great tunnel from Arner.ea to Germany, on one of the tunnel trains, with Eaermann, an engineer, in charge of Main Station No. 4. They are traveling at the rate of 118 miles an hour. Rives is in love with Maude Allan, wife of Mackendrick Allan, whose mind first conceived the great tunnel scheme. After going about 250 miles under the Atlantic Ocean Rives gets out of the train. Suddenly the tunnel seems to burst There is a frightful explosion Men are flung to death and Rives is badly wounded. He staggers through the b.inding smoke, realizing that about' 3.000 men have probably perished. He and other survivors get tc Station No. 4. Rives finds Baermann holding at bay a wild mob of frantic men who want to climb on a work train, somebody shoots Baermann, and the train slides out. The scene is then changed to the roof of the Hotel Atlantic. The greatest financiers of the country are gathered there at a summons from C. H. Lloyd, ‘‘The Money King.” John Rives addresses them, and introduces Al lan. Mrs Allan and Maude Lloyd, daughter of the Hnanc'er. are also pres ent. Allan tells the company of his project for a tunnel 3 100 miles long. The financiers agree to back him. Allan and Rives want him to take charge of the actual work. Rives accepts. Rives goes to the Park Club to meet Wit- tersteiner, a financier# At Columbus Circle news of the great project is being flashed on a screen. Thousands are watching it. Mrs. Allan becomes a lonely and neglected woman and Is much thrown in the company of Rives. Sydney Wolf, the money power of two continents, plots against Allan and Rives. Mrs. Allan has her suspicions aroused as to t e frierdsship between her husband and Ethel Lloyd. Rives and Mrs. Allan let the wine of love get to their heads and. before they know it, they confess their love for each other. Tun nel City’s inhabitants learn something has gone wrong in the lower workings of the great bore. An explosion and fire have occurred in the tunnel, and when the workers hear of it definitely they become a raging mob, surging about the entrance of the bore Mrs. Allan is warred not to leave her home while the excitement Is at its height But she and her child go forth They meet a mob of women, frenzied by t^e disaster, who stone them to death. Rives was missing in the tunnel and Allan, his wife, child, dearest friend and 5,000 other lives gone, gave in despair But he resolves to conouor not be subdued, by the great project. Gathering a relief train together he hurries into the tunnel. Near the end he co nes to a pile of dead bodies He finally rescues Rives nearly dead. After the disaster the tunnel workers, in terror, strike and the great project Is stopped. Now Go On With the Story. Animation, Right Thinking and Eating as Aid to Natural Loveliness, Expertly Described by Mary Young The Land of Liberty :: By CARL ANDOVER. HIS world is so full of a num ber of things” that—accord ing to Mary Young—we ought not to set placidly by being “as happy as kings,” but we ought to start boldly campaigning for a wide and general knowledge of the num- ward the selfsame goal that she Is indicating for you. Now, Mary Young—late hard-work ing and dearly beloved leading wom an of the Castle Square Stock Com pany in Boston, and present very nat ural and very charming heroine of ber of things there are to know and be. Almost any clever woman w tell you' that beauty is brains, or charm; but not every clever woman can impress you with her personal willingness to study and Strive to- The tunnel was empty. Tunnel City silent and lifeless. Only »here and there along the streets a soldier stood, leaning on his rifle. * * * «> Under pressure of certain prom inent and humane men and women Allan amended his original lock-out order to the effect that all married men would be allowed a longer time 'in which to make up their mimis, and that in the meantime their families would be undisturbed*in their present quarters. But all single men, those that had lived for years in the im mense barracks erected for them, were ordered to vacate at once, and 'the exodus began. Guided by its leaders, the great army of strikers marched into New York C1tv to hold a gigantic demon stration. Even the men allowed a longer period of grace by virtue of their family responsibilities Joined. For two days Tunnel City was a city of the dead, and all of one day the thousands of strikers paraded the streets of the great city bearing ban ners that blazoned to the world their opinions of Allan and all the masters of the tunnel. Allan and Lloyd were hung in ef figy. a movable gallows being carted around for the purpose so that the execution might take place whenever the sp ! rit moved them. The streets rang with "The Mars^'llaise,” but there was no violence. They were not welcome in New York, but they had shrewdly planned one exhibit-that won the sympathy of thousands and started a perfect shower of money to the war chest of the strike. This was a delegation marching four abreast and nearlv a half mile long. The leader carried a banner, which bore the inscription, "Mac’s Cripples.” Every man who marched behind that banner was maimed in such a manner that the spectators could not but see* It. Some had loaf both arms, some a leg. some an arm an«i others an arm and a leg. Some were without an eye and ear and hair only on one side of the head. More than a few were totally blind and were led along by their comrades. It is a singular fact that the first contribution for these was $10,003 from Ethel Lloyd, who also later m took pains to see that all of them were provided for In public or ur’vat? institutions. When the procession marched past the Syndicate building there was much swear'ng and gen eral uproar, but the demonstration went no further, and by the next morning the city was qu’et. Thou sands of the striker® returned to Tunnel City temporarily then scat tered in search of work. But the strike was successful in so far as j. absolutely naralvzed the tunnel work. Then Allan took counsel with his engineers and with Sldnev Wolf, who w’ll be remembered as financial di rector of the syndicate. The denosit of submarium was found to be 30 feet deep in the thinnest place of the great submarine chamber which the explo sion had opened. Since actual tunnel work was temporarily impossible. Al lan proposed that this invaluable treasure be mim'd and marketed pend ing the breaking of the strike. "But how can we mine It if you have no laborers?” objected Wolf. “The Pittsburg people will snap at fi profit-sharing offer,” returned Al lan. "Make them a pronoslt’on ‘o mine and split the profits with us ” Allan was r'ght, but Wolf was too shrewd to offer to split even. He demanded flO per rent, and declared he could take no less, thus allowing them two weeks in which to beat him down to 52 1-2 per cent. The mineral comnanv came In w1 f h Its own labor and beean working ihree shifts, which Allan insisted on. as be believed that the strike could not last more than a month or two. and be wanted the submarium and its miners out of the wav. Thus, while the tunnel was idle, other bands were cleaning out a tbree-thousand-foot chamber for the engineers to use in a thousand val uable wavs in the permanent con struction and at the same time the tunnel was making monev at the rate of thousands a day instead of i eating up that much. I Tn the same wav a rich vein of potassium and another of Iron or° thqt had been tanned in the Biscavan boring were worked for an enor mous nroflt. and Allan leased water power right and left. "Tf we bad to have a s‘rike. It s lust as well that we are able to make It nav.” be remarked. nhBosonhlrallv: and bfmpeif to work on the plans for utilizing the great chamber. It wac well in more senses than one for the nrauclal condition of the syndicate was bv no means fuMs- foetorv, tho”vb far from alarming. Tl'nv Viqd n'onrp^ *ha ^1'’ h,rr s f ock Issue for January of that year, but with a strike on th's wa» ,Tr »- uos'jble. Conseouentlv t^eir cash balance was running a little low and the profit* of these ventures gave it a more healthful appearance. Back Again. Then one day an abrupt change came over Allan. Denied the nep?nthe of tremendous work, his private grief swept back upon him. A visit to Rives In the hospital did it. For two da vs after- yard he moped around his office and did nothing Then he suddenly an nounced that he was going to Eu rope. He sailed next morning. For monthu he wandered over the Continent, visiting the old hotel and old scenes and old drives that he had taken with Maud in their younger days and all the while his grief rode him like a nightmare. Occasionally a business telegram that demanded concentration for a day or two di verted him and sometimes he got a cheery letter from Ethel Lloyd that warmed his heart. There was no sign that the strike was breaking. s»o there was no need for him to hurry home, and with sorrow ever at his elbow he wandered up and down Eu rope * As chance had brought on the nightmare, so chance endei it. One day in the spring he was in Paris and attracted by the placards outside, which described the wonderful views of the t'innel work, he went in and took a seat. He watched for a half- hour and felt the old call stir in his blood. At last a film showed an engineer directing the loading of a train. The engineer turned suddenly with a little smile, as of surprise, and looked full into Allan’s face. It was Baermann!—Baermann who had died at his post the night that hell broke into the tunnel. Of course, he had merely turned and looked at the mov ing picture machine, but to Allan it seemed as if the young man had looked at him and the surprise was due to the fact that he had wandered so far from his duty. That night he ordered a special train in order to catch a liner from Liverpool in the morn’ng. When he stepped ashore in New York, he was hlnjpelf again; but before he even called at his office he hastened to Tunnel City to see how Rives was getting on. He found his friend at his house, discharged from the hos pital. It was a chilly spring day. but Rives was sitting on the veranda m immaculate summer attire. From the shoulders down he was the same Rives that had entered the tunnel that terrible night less than a year before. But his face was yellow and old and his hair, which had come in again, was snow-white. An Ordeal. By a tremendous effort Allan con cealed the terrible shock his friend’s appearance gave him; but he might have spared himself the effort. Rives’ eye lit up faintly when Allan darted up the steps, but he held out his hand and greeted him as if he had seen him the night before. "Back again, Mac?” His voice was fa*ntly querulous, like an old man’s. “Where have you been?” Allan’s throat was dry, hut he con trived to answer with some steadi ness. "Why, I ran over to Europe for a short time. How are ycu feeling, old man?” Rives had been gazing out to sea He turned his head for an instant toward his questioner. His eyes, had a pained, puzzled expression as if he were trying to remember something. "Feel?” lie echoed vaguely. And then. "On, I’m feeling fine. My head’s better.” Allan moistened his lips. "I’m glad to hear it,” he said heartily. Rives stared at him. Allan met his eyes steadily and suddenly marked with joy that the blank puzzled look was leaving. Rives, as suddenly, got to his feet and held out his hand as if Allan had Just at that moment ar rived. His eyes were shining now with a sane joy of welcome. “My God, I’m glad to see you. Mae!” he cried. “Come in—come on in the house! Ah, don’t!” he begged, as if he saw something in h’s friend’s face. "I know—the doctor has told me all about it. It isn’t permanent, old man. Hr says that I’m likely to get these little lapse* from time to time for a year or so. What will you have— Scotch or rye?” "A little Scotch—that’ll do—’’nuff! Standing by the sideboard they drank each other’s health, and Allan tried to make himself forget that look in Rives’ eye. Every window was open and he shivered slightly. "There’s a terrible* draught here. Jack,” he remarked. Rives looked at him with a curious smile. "I like a draught.” he said slowly Mack quickly turned his face away and shuddered. He remembered that life-giving w’nd that had swept through the cross-gallery, where they found Rives. Sane and Insane. The next instant he got another terrible shock. "How’s Maud?” asked Rives, cas- ually. , . "Maud!” gasped Allan—and then he saw the look again. "Yes. Was she with you in Eu rope?” Allan opened his mouth twice to sav something and closed it again. Fives came over and quickly laid his hand on his arm "There it goes again,” he said, apol ogetically. "I’m awfully sorry. Mac, old man. But it just sort of seems as if my memory s’ips a cog every now and then. I’m not fit to talk to peo ple—but you understand, don’t you?” "Yes.” nodded Allan, avoiding his eyes, "I understand.” "No, I don’t mean that way,” said Rives, gently, and Allan started un der hi® hand. "I’m not really off my nut. Mac, but it will take some time for me to get all straightened out.” "I understand, old man—really I do.” To Be Continued To-morrow. "Believe Me. Xantippe,” at the Thirty ninth Street Theater - has never fear ed work, effort and the constant rou tine of study and rehearsal that marks the career of the stock actress. At present, with the unusually “sim ple life" marked by but six evening performances and two matinees a day. Mary Young is studying languages in order to improve every shining hour to the utmost. “A little personal pulchritude plus a great deal* of, brains makes beauty that CQUnts-f—while a vast amount of mere prettiness plus no cleverness, no acconiplishments and no animating intelligence may make a pretty pic ture, but it can never represent a glorious woman who is a lasting de light. An Example. “Last spring I attended a dinner at which one of our great prima don nas was present. On one side of her sat a French diplomat and at her other hand was an Italian nobleman. First she would animatedly chat with M’sieu—and then she Would turn to the Signor and talk to him with charm and ease. Her animated clev erness fairly illuminated her beauty. Her brilliancy made her glowing, vital and dazzingly lovely; while the less clever women, evon if of greater ac tual beauty, faded and paled before this woman with the gift of tongues and keen interest and insight into humanity and national characteris tics. "1 am using two hours of every morning to master French and Ger man,” added Miss Young with a whimsical smile. "Of course. I don’t expect dazzling beauty to result—but I do confidently expect to gain in hu man insight through the ability to converse with men of other nations in their own languages—and I expect a vast field of literature to open be fore me. “Parlor tricks are a great asset to the girl who would be charming—a bit of recitation, an ability to play— if not (Jrieg, at least the music of the day- a gift of graceful dancing, or the charm of a sweet singing voice. "Oh, the world is full of a number of tilings—and the girl who desires beauty must make sure that she has the setting for the jewel. If you are too lazy to take advantage of all tin* chances of improvement that life of fers, even If you have been (lowered with good features, you will deprive them of animating soul and Illum inating expression. "My rules for beauty would, If I stopped to formulate and tabulate them, be three-fold, I think. Improve your mind, cultivate your natural gifts and discover a few unsuspected talents to polish is the first. Then, SNAP SHOTS • • • • By LILLIAN LAUFERTY. THERE IS NO UNBELIEF. Whoever plants a seed beneath the sod, And waits to see it push away the clod, He trusts in God. —BULWER LYTTON. • * * BETTER NOT. Dear Miss Fairfax I am 17 years old, and am in love with a boy 18 years of age. I see him nearly every night.. AN though we don’t know each other, he always speaks to me (calling me by my name). I have no girl friends or gentlemen friends whom I know who would give me an introduction. I know he 's anxious to meet me. Every time he speaks to me T feel like an swering him back, but I never do. Do you think it would be Im proper for me s^eak to him, as I am verv anxious to got ac quainted with h:rn? E. D. You are both so young that I think you had better not. You do not sav where you see him, leaving the infer ence that it is on the street, and that is reason in itself why you should not include him among your friends with no one to stand sponsor for him. Walt, my dear. If he Is the right one, the opportunity will be given you for knowing him. Tongue Tied. "lie invented a ripping story to tell his wife when he got homo after mid night.” "Good one, was it?” "A peach; it would satisfy any woman." "Did it satisfy her?” "It would 'ave, but he couldn’t tell it.” for rule two, 13E SIMPLE AND NATURAL. That means be well-bred, too. For nothing less well-bred than the present fad for artificiality, for make-up unblushingly applied, and for bold and daringly immodest cos tumes could be conjured up in a welsh rarebit dream. It is so hard to find the real human likeableness of a woman who Is hidden behind several layers of powder and paint. She looks cheap and middle-class if no worse, and so I feel that simplicity and nat uralness are able lieutenants to Brains in the army that goes with flying ban ners to win Beauty. Reserve Force. "And the reserve force in woman’s beauty-hunt Is: Preserve a youthful, graceful, supple figure. Don’t let fat accumulate. Fat is the white woman’s burden. This is my method of fighting it: For breakfast 1 have a cup of black coffee and a piece of toast; for lunch—NOTHING; and dinner is a fairly simple, sweetless meal. It took me a year to learn to live a lunch-less life. At first I used to eat a few crackers to tide myself over the in sistently hungry, aching void time, hut at last I have learned not to miss the joys of lunching. "Oh, everything worth while in all this world of numberless things seems to demand a struggle, but the meed for your pains makes it all so ‘worth the struggle,’ doesn't it?” concluded Miss Young, with the dear little smile that like her very evident mental power illuminates her piquant, mobile brunette charm into a very worth while type of beauty. LILLI Ay LAUFERTY. INDIGESTION? Stop It quickly; Have your grocer eenq you one doe. bottles of SHIVA R GINGER ALE Drink with meals, and If not prompt ly relieved, get yOur money back at our expense Wholesome. dell- . clous. refreshing prepared with the I celebrated Shlvar ( Mineral Water and I the purest flavoring material*. , BHIVAR SPRING, Manufacturer* SHELTON, S. C. E L. ADAMS CO., Distributor*. Atlanta. r j >HE train rumbled comfortably on I over the steppes; warm lights from the carriages glowed in passing reflection in the snow, and Into that frozen land, numbed to desolation beneath the tyrannous thrall of winter the train seemed to he a strange In truder from other lands, bearing with it the cause of splendid liberty. “And yet,” said Peter Ivanovltch, seated In the restaurant ear, "I feel I am coming to a land of freedom. ‘‘How so?” demanded the Englishman. "Is It the feeling I have,” replied his companion. "Freedom!” exclaimed the English man. "Russia a land of freedom! Why, man, It Is absurd. Look at the trouble we had in croslng the frontier—the end less searchings and formalities, that aw ful wait In the customs while they ex amined our passports, and those poor Poles herded together In that pen like beasts. Oh, it all sickened me at the very start. "Then the hotels had to see our passes, and do you remember that gang of poor folk being swung along betwen those soldiers? Did you ever see such poor, lack luster creatures, hurried along without knowing why, except because they had been stung to some useless protest? I'll never forget the look on their faces—of litter dull hopelessness, And yet you call It a land of liberty. Why, in the name of reason, why?” "It Is not my reason that feels it,” said the Russian. "And yet ” "No," said his fellow traveler; "to you perhaps Russia may seem free, be cause you are coming home, and you know all the conventions, and are look ing forward to a famil'ar intimacy with your own people.l ‘’hat, no doubt, is a freedom; but It Is by no means a trait of Russia as a country.” His Objection. The Russian smiled reflectively, and tapped on the table w ! th his fingers. "Of course, I speak without knowl edge except from what I’ve read,” con tinued the Englishman "and there must be a great deal In the land that makes all my friends come hack so continually to Russia, but what I am afraid will drive me furious is the lack of freedom here. A friend of mine was kept In* Moscow for a whole week once for no earthly reason while they worried over his pass out from the country. The police are kept Informed of every step we take—Isn’t It so?—and they do no good with it all. "Look at the political refugees. We think In England that they must be all frantic Nihilists, and not merely law-abiding citizens who merely offer a theoretical opposition to the Govern ment. It is all unheard of with us—this tyranny of spying and super-spying No, whatever it is, Russia is not free." The train, after miles on miles of snow-crusted land, was passing through a little straggling village. The moon had risen over the white steppes, and in the clear light the lines of homesteads, all alike with the big gateway leading into the yard beside the house, the tim ber walls, the low thatch and the all- pervading, unutterable filth of dirt and trodden snow, showed up strongly against the white surroundings. At intervals on rising ground rose pure white churches, with now golden, now blue domes, seeming most callously aloof among these mean surroundings. The Russian Smiles. "See there,” said the Englishman in the warm, well-lit car, "there’s tyranny even here. Look at the squalor of those homes. Imagine the drink-sodden men within them, and look at those . cold, white churches, that teach their I people, the flock of poor, simple sheep, to pray for heaven and to live In hell. The priests are worse than the police— they tyrannize over men’s souls and build churches with the money they ex tort by the fear of everlasting jjunlsh- ment.” But the Russian still drummed on the table and smiled at some inner thought he could not yet express. Two men entering the car asked If they might sit at their table, and fen to chatting with them. The Russians talked freely of their affairs, of their destinations and their home life. On* was going to serve his time In the army. “But you," he said, turning to the Englishman,* "you have no conscription, have you?” "No,” was the answer, "we say that a willing soldier Is better than three pressed men. Another point,” he add ed to his companion; and he went on to tell of the freedom of English lives until the train at last slowed up In a station. The passengers rose to stretch their legs and breathe the chill fresh air. A lady In rich furs was being helped Into the carriage by a man servant, who followed with her bags and wraps. “Good-bye, Afanasie,” she said; "keep well and see that all goes all right.” "Good-bye, Marie—a pleasant Jour ney,” he replied, "and, remember the stoves for the outhouses.” "All right, good-bye,” and the train started at the third bell. The Rurrian Chuckles. The Russian was chuck'Ing happily as he went back to his compartment with the Englishman. “And therein,” he said, "lies Russia's freedom. In England would you see one so free, so easy with one’s servants? No, you are afraid of them. It is no Joke. 'Before the servants,’ Is a phrase T have often heard. It Is the great cau tion of your lives. And it Is not only the servants you fear, but your neigh bor, your acquaintance and your friend.” "What do you mean?” "I mean you have no freedom In your homes and in your dally life. You are always thinking. 'What will they say?’ Would men come to your table and *peak as those men spoke to us? They told us of their lives. It was a confi dence they had in us because we also are men. We Russians have our police and our priests, It is true, but you have them also In another form—in one form, rather—the convention. "Oh, the things I have seen in Eng land, the sll’y little rules, even In the family. You must sit—so, you must eat—so. you must speak—so, you must walk—so, you must think—so, you must lead all your life—Just so. and If you do not, ‘people will talk.’ But we In Rus sia can do as we like. We are free. "One day, perhaps, we will govern ourselves and our police will be our helpers and not our tyrants, and we will become civilized—Just so. But I will be dead then, thank God! Tell me, Is it better to be free in one’s politics or in one’s home among one’s friends? An swer me that—not now. but when you go home again and find yourself a slave.” Soapless. The tramp looked shrewdly at Miss Wary, and she returned his gaze with equal shrewdness. "You see, It’s like this, ma’am. Six months ago I had a little home of my own, but I made an unfortunate mar riage. My wife’s temper was such that it kept me in hot water all the time.” "H’m,” said Miss Wary, dryly, "It’s a pity there couldn’t have been a lit tle soap with It.” KODAKS The Beet Finish In* and talara- Inf That Can B« ProfuMf. Kaeuaea Film* and row- plate etork amateur auppllea. Ire for out-of f>vn customer*. Sand for Catalog and Price List. A. K. HAWKES CO. 14 Whitehall St.. Atlsnt., Gs. Pennsylvania Lines Funeral Designs and Flowers FOR ALL OCCASIONS. Atlanta Floral Company 465 EAST FAIR STREET. 5 To Women Hroken Down? Who'hnr It’* from buslnoae rarrn, n houanho.d drudgery or ov'-rfrequent SI! chilJ-bwMng. you need a Reato-anv# ZZ Tonic and Strength-giving Nervine IZ end Regulator. 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