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SUNDAY MORNINC.
A KIDNAPED POODLE
H*“" l ERE is a story of an unsuc
cessful ruse in love, and a
MM kidnaped poodle. Blllinger
rlH'My and Batterson were rivals for
the good graces of Miss May
hew, and Miss Mayhew was dotingly
fond of her pug, Chicot.
It was after a visit to bis adored
one that Blllinger was struck with a
great idea.
As he turned into the avenue he
met a butcher's boy whom he remem
bered as having, on rare occasions,
by reason of a reputation for unim
peachable integrity, been intrusted
with the precious Chicot on rainy
days when, despite the weather, it
was deemed desirable that, the anima!
should be exercised, Billlnger stopped
the hastening youth and addressed
him something in this wise:
“Young man, are you ambitious?''
The boy grinned amiably, for he knew
Blllinger, and responded succinctly:
“Sure thing.”
“ 'Tis well," quoth Blllinger. “Have
you any objection to laying forthwith
the foundations of the princely fortune
that will cne day be yours?" The boy
grinned again and guessed not, where
upon Blllinger, with many admonitions
to secrecy, unfolded his plot.
The details of the conspiracy are not
important. Suffice uto say that one
rainy morning about, ten days later the
hoy appeared at Billlnger’s office in
John street with a much-bedraggled
and altogether rebellious Chicot, whom
an office boy was straightway deputed
to tie to the safe in BUlinger’o sanc
tum.
“Well done, good and faithful serv
ant," said Blllinger solemnly to the
butcher’s boy. “Behold, now, how vir
tue is rewarded.” And he gave his
fellow conspirator more money than
he hail ever seen at any one time in
his life.
Then he glanced triumphantly at
the captive Chicot and went out to
luncheon in high spirits. "What I will
no to that pestiferous pup." said ho
to himself, "will be what the etiquette
hooks describe as a general sufll
clency."
Alas for BllUnger. While he was
treating himself handsomely at a
neighboring cafe, who should drop in
at his oftlco hut the hated Batterson,
whose partner had a law case in
Blllinger’s hands.
The first object that met his aston
ished gaze was the form of the mud
bespattered Chicot. Now it happened
that Batterson had received by tele
phone the awful news of Chicot’s tak
ing off. "Funny thing," he thought.
“Billinger must have found the pup.”
But then he remembered that Miss
Mayhew had said that she had asked
Billinger to advertise for him. He
remembered this the more distinctly
because he hau offered his own ser
vices to that end, and had been any
thing but pleased to find that he had
been anticipated.
A great light began to illumine the
obscurity of Batterson's mind. He
passed into the hall, carefully clos
ing the i.oor behind him, and re-en
tered Billinger's private office by the
other door. Batterson untied the ropo
that fastened the dog to the safe,
leaving the other end still tied to
that substantial piece of furniture.
Then, taking the joyous Chicot in his
arms, he stole silently out into the
hall, closing the door behind him. and
walked down eight flights of stairs.
Peering cautiously out Into the street,
he rejoiced to see no Billinger, and,
hearing his armful of muddy dog. fled
precipitately toward Broad street.
When Billinger returned from
luneheou his first thought was for
Chicot. In vain he searched the of
fice. Chicot was not to be found. He
summoned the head clerk. Nobody
had entered his sanctum, declared
that functionary, but Mr. Batterson.
"Batterson!" cried the unhappy Bil
linger, and collapsed into a chair.
“Did he take the dog away?” Certain
ly not, the clerk replied. Mr. Batter
son went out as he had entered, and
he was perfectly certain that he bad
no dog concealed about his person.
, Billinger dismissed the clerk and
cursed his luck for five minutes with
out repeating himself. Then, in de3
Iteration, he closed his desk and sent
for a cab. The suspense was unen
durable. He had made up his mind
to know the worst at once.
The man who answered his ring
would see if Miss Mayhew was at
home and ushered him into a well
remembered drawing room. As soon
as his eyes became accustomed to the
dim half light he was aware of a
figure in the chair by the window. The
next instant ho recognized it. It was
LORD
B£J^TTTCP-TNQtan
Batterson. In his lap lay a forlorn
black heap whose name was Chicot.
Blllinger was speecnless. He rose
and took one step toward the door.
Flight was his purpose. Nothing else
was left him now. Too late! At that
very instant Miss Mayhew entered the
room. A handkerchief was pressed to
her eyes, and if there had been suffi
cient light it could have been seen
that they were red. Blllinger stood
miserably aside. Batterson advanced
proudly to the middle of the room,
but before he could speak the poodle
leaped from his arms and rushed with
joyous yelp3 upon his mistress.
Batterson was clothed In a proud
humility, and as he opened his mouth
to speak Billlnger shuddered In his
dim corner by the door.
“I-er-er,” stuttered Batterson. “I-er-I
was so fortunate us to find Chicot, you
see.”
“Yes, yes," cried the joyful mistress
of th£ dog, “thank heaven. I was
afraid I should never see him again.
But where—how, oh, toll me! I beg
you.” Billlnger waited as waits the
convicted criminal to hear his
sentence. Batterson cleared his
throat.
“Er —not far from my office —in John
street,” he said, "as I was going to
luncheon.” Billinger seized a chair to
keep from falling. He could hardly
realize that he was to he spared.
"The poor, poor doggie!” cried the
lady. And to think he had walked all
the way down there. 1 can’t think
how he failed to be killed by a trolley
car or a truck or something. It Is
simply marvelous. How can I evei
thank you enough?" And she pressed
a kiss upon Chicot’s black, wet muz
zle.
"You have no idea how all this
lias upset me.” went on Miss Mayhew,
"especially coming at a time when I
was so happy—when I so wanted ev
erything to be serene and joyous.”
Billinger’s reprieve was too recent for
speech, but Batterson managed to
say :
"Eh? How do you mean? 1 don't un
derstand."
"Of course you don’t,” said Miss
Mayhew. “How should you? But
when that wretched boy came to tell
me he had lost dear Chicot I was
just writing to you and Mr. Billinger
to tell you of my engagement to Lord
Bletlierlngton."
• * *
Billinger and Batterson went dole
fully down the brownstone steps arm
in arm. The war was over.
"I say, old fellow,” said Billinger,
mournfully, "i know a place around
the corner where there's a chap who
makes the best mint julep in New
York.”
"Eh? What?” said Batterson. ab
sently. "Oh, I don't mind if I do.”
As they sadly turned the corner
they met an automobile careering
madly up the avenue. A pair of feet
reposed upon the dashboard. Behind
the feet appeared a mouth between
whose Tips was held a long, fat, black
cigar. The face was the face of the
butcher's boy. lie was having the
lime of his life.
Immensity of the Ocean.
If ail the land on the globe above
sea level were shoveled into the North
Atlantic it would only reduce its depth
from an average of two miles to one >
mile.
THE BRUNSWICK DAIUY NEWS.
TO A FRIEND ON SAILING.
Dear friend, thy way Ilea on the deep.
From distant shore to shore,
tnd may the raging tempest sleep,
And light winds speed thee o’er,
tfor to a heart as fond as thine
come no thought of fear.
But only rapture, full and line,
Albcil a tear!
bncl If. the while thy Rood ship heaves
O’er miles of trackless main.
Thy faithful heart, though fearless,grieves
Kor home and friends again;
Let not the thought bring back thy life.
The work that long was thine.
£*\>r it was. In the midst of strife,
A sacrllice benign.
Labor Laws of Two Countries
While Judge Jackson of the United
! States district court in Parkersburg,
W. Va., has sentenced a number of or
ganizers to jail terms of ninety and
sixty days ;or making inflammatory
speeches inciting men to strike, the
British courts are wrestling with the
problem of forcing tile labor unions
to pay employers damages caused
through strikes. Several large mine
: owners in England ar collectively
! Hie Miners’ Federation for caus
| ing the cessation of work at a number
| of collieries for 'our days recently.
There was no picketing or violence of
j any kind in connection with tills ces
sation of work, the men saving taken
four extra holidays on the orders of
■ the officers of the federation. The
mine owners believe they suffered
heavy financial loss as a result, and
they now ask, through the courts, that
j they be compensated from the treas
ury of the federation. That the funds
of the federation belong In common
to all the members seems to make no
difference, as the officers are held re
sponsible. In another case in England
the courts have held that although the
unions are liable for the actions of
their officers they must not furnish
the funds to defend the same officers
when they are brought to trial in the
courts. The question arises, are all
these court rulings paving the way for
compulsory arbitration, whatlir the
unions favor it or not. In any case,
it must be admitted that the decisions
The Infa.my of Child L^bor
Every day wo are called upon to re
joice over the “new industrial south.”
Thirty-five years ago the capital in
vested In textile manufacturing in the
south amounted probably to less than
$3,000,000. Now it has reached about
$175,000,000. In the midst, however, of
all the clashing of cymbols before the
altar of mammon there arises the cry
ot the little children, what Carlyle
would call “a thin flute voice of infi
nite wail." Irene Ashby McFadyen
has spoken on the subject with per
haps a woman's tenderness. Mr. E. J.
I.ister is under no such disadvantage.
Being a man he may be expected to
keep bis sensibilities under control.
Further, -the Dry Goods Economist is
not exactly a reformers' war cry.
Let the northern public, therefore,
reflect upon the nature of conditions
which make it necessary for Mr. Lis
ter to say that the children employed
in certain cotton mills m the south
present a system of "slavery infinitely
more cruel and debasing than the
worst that ever existed In the darkest
days prior to the dawn of negro eman
cipation.” "Pinched, haggard laces"
and "prison pallor ’ are heavy prices
to pay for dividends, exports, a leisure
class, and the development of culture'.
Georgia, South Carolina and Alabama
As to Compulsory Arbitration
Compulsory arbitration is impos
sible. To begin with tt)e term is a
misnomer, and to end with, compul
sion would mean the taking away of
the personal rights guaranteed by the
constitution. Without referring to the
delivery of the goods guaranteed by
the constitution, which is a question
that has thus far not beeu the most
satisfactory, it is not out of place to
consider a matter that labor organ
isations must meet as it presents it
self, or discontinue their system of
collective bargaining.
The labor agreement must be ob
served both on the part of the em
ployer and employe, and once made.
Eight-Hour Day Question
On many questions still in dispute
we need more light. Among others the
eight-hour day will attract increasing
attention. Is a shorter day desirable,
all things considered? Is it feasible to
adopt the eight-hour uay? Or will its
disadvantages be so great as to make
it more of a detriment than a blessing
to society? Now is the time to have
this question thoroughly discussed.
Shall men be permitted and encour
aged to turn out all the work that they
can while on ditty, or snalt the least
efficient or the average worker set the
pace for all?
Shall business be regarded as a spe
cies of war in which the stronger shall
People Eating Less Meat
Michael Donnelly, president of the
Amalgamated Meat Cutters and Butch
er Workmen of America, had this to
say recently in an interview on the
moat trust, so-called: "There are over
1.000 less people on Swift's payroll in
Chicago than there were six weeks
ago. Armour is working his men in
some departments only a part of four
days per week. The cause is largely
a lack of consumption of meat on the
Grieve not thine absence grief shall wake
In those who hold thee dear.
For to the deeds done for love’s sake
Thy spirit stll is near;
Ard as the good, where’er it may.
Draws truth to Its embrace.
S-* worthy friends, though far away.
Shall look upon thy face.
Go, then, an one whom heaven has sent
To rest and pleasure there;
Mu v kindness like thy own be lent
Thy coming everywhere;
And friends who stay shall feel the bliss
Tin* parting must foretell,
And know what pleasure ’tis to miss
A friend who loveth well.
arc furnishing the socialists with first
class campaign material. The recent
decision of Judge Jackson seem3 to
have gone a little further than most
decisions recorded, and that is saying
a good deal. He even went out of his
way to tell what he thought of organ
izers and their walking delegates, who
he said were "vampires” sucking the
life blood of the workingmen o' the
country. This is one better than John
W. Gates, who only accuses them of
living off the ignorance of their fel
lows.
Wnile the follower of the doctrine
of organization on straight trade un
ion lines claims that thorough organi-
the only panacea fbr the ills
which confronts the workers, the
decision of the British courts is likely
to have him modify his ideas some
what. The workmen may be thor
oughly organized so that, picketing is
unnecessary, but what good will it do
if the funds of the union can be seized
to compensate employers for the ces
sation of work through a strike. This
is worse than compulsory arbitration,
as through that means the workman
has at least a little chance. The other
way if he leaves his employment the
money he has contributed to pay sick
or death benefits to protect him in
bis old .age is seized to enrich his
employer.
It is said that coeducation trans
forms colleges into match factories.
are the three states in which cotton
mill child labor has acquired its most
revolting aspects. In none of these
states is there a compulsory education
law". In none is there any educational
requirement laid on the child who is
about to enter the factory. In Ala
bama only is there an age limit below
which employment is illegal. And
what a law that Alabama law is!
Children must not work .n the mines
till they are 10 years old! Such is the
protection the rising generation of
Alabama whites receive at the hands
of the state government. To talk
about the children’s not being obliged
to be in the mills is to assume an
equality of opportunity which does not
exist. The real responsibility lies on
the northern capitalist and the south
ern legislator, it is a responsibility
under which neither of the two will
long remain comfortable. The public
has learned too much about the real
situation.
Black slavery has vanished from the
south, it never bore hard upon the
children. The white slavery in the
south exists for children alone. There
is need of anew emancipation proc
lamation for the benefit of the chil
dren in the cotton mills. —Chicago
Tribune.
i must be regarded as binding for the
| period of its stated operation. There
■ is a compulsory feature in such an
agreement that is along the same
linos as is suggested in compulsory
arbitration, although the former is a
voluntary compact arranged by rep
resentatives of the men. yet it binds
them hard and fast and is a viola
tion of their constitutional rights as
j understood in the fourteenth amend
' meat -l). 1.. Cease, Editor Railroad
Trainmen's Journal. Cleveland.
- -
If it were not for the bar and buffet
j some men would never have a drop of
I good in them.
I be allowed to crush the weaker and
reap the spoils, or shall business be
regarded as anew kind of partnership
between business undertakers and
workmen, in which each shall earn in
proportion to w'aat. he contributes? in
whic.i the workman shall take as per
sonal a pride and have as strong an
interest in the business as the one
who takes the risks, furnishes the or
i ganizing brains and the capital?—Wil
i liam A. Sehapes, assistant professor of
| political science. University of Minne
; sota.
A good many prize-fighters seem to
I be interested in paper mills.
part of the general public. The heav
iest consumers, the wage-earning
classes, have found it difficult to pay
the present high prices. I look for a
drop in the prices in about a month,
when I think business in packing
houses will resume normal propor
tions.”
Be sure you're right, then be sure
you're sure.
IN BEAUTIFUL PARIS
IS between 4 and C o’clock
J I of a June afternoon in the
—<l height of the Paris season.
3eJ The great length of the
Aliee des Acacias of the
Bois de Boulogne—in all Paris the
one promenade forbidden to the jar
ring and ill-smelling automobile—
’ there files in a dust of gold, inter
minably, leisurely, in four great rows,
These grandes dames are not known
by face to Parisians.
the equippage3 of the Paris that one
dreams of.
If it were only for the one fact that
no automobiles are permitted on this
splendid promenade through the great
woods, the Alley of Acacias, or the
Avenue of I.ongchamps, to use it3 of
‘‘THE ALIBI” WAS WITH ANOTHER PARTY.
fielal name, would have a dreamy, old
world air.
For fifteen minutes yesterday after
noon on a terrace in the far end of
this sylvan promenade I “at in com
pany with a group of the latter, sons
of family, young and mil m e-aged do- |
nothings on a moderate allowance.
Their sole and absorbing aim in life
is being well dressed, to dine nightly
in the smartest of smart restaurants
and pass the next day telling all about
it. Iu particular who dined there, at
what tables, and who sat at which
are the great topics.
“De Dion and the Comte de la
V were in the corner with the
Comtesse and the two G girls from
London.”
"Why is young V— advertising
himself with Otero? She had that
blonde girl with her ags last night.
The three sat at the window,
close to Liane and ‘The Alibi.’ I
wonder what it means?”
“No, you are mistaken for once, my
dear fellow. Liane came with old
X and dined alone with him. ‘The
Alibi’ was with another party, Eng
lish or Americans, and she was with
Liane live minutes, begging for per
mission to present them,"
So they correct and complete each
other, piling up a mass of gossip
whose one merit is that it is not quite
second hand and whose one fault Is
that it is not quite first hand. They
do not know a tithe of the highly ad
vertised folk whom they follow with
such interest.
Summer mornings in these high
class solitudes is almost perfect. On
each side of the great avenue of the
Acacias extend dark-shaded alleys.
In these days when bicycling bas
become the inheritance of the unlovely
and when the great arteries of the
Bois are redolent of gasoline, you
might pass through the great
and find it common; but it
still, not only nooks, but whole long
Keyed up to the point of whooping.
stretches that are mild, serene and 1
calm in the dewy morning, where
smartly dressed groups stroll in peace i
beside their equipages, where fashion
able young folks sit chatting while
their riding horses, tandems and dog
carts await them just around the cor
ner.
If, on the other hand, you wish to
see the celebrated women of the capi
SEPTEMBER 28
tal, you will do your best to seat your
self on one of the iron chairs of the
Acacias from 4 to 6 o’clock of the
afternoon. The morning groups be
neath the trees are those of high so
ciety. These grandes dames and their
daughters do not have their photo
graphs in the shop windows, as the
custom is in London; the are not
known by face to the mass of
Parisians.
The afternoon parade in carriages
i3 very much a dress parade of fem
inine celebrities, a very different cate
gory. In the dust of gold and falling
locust blossoms the equipages of this
half-high world parade slowly with a
gracious dignity through the fair
length of the acacias.
It is the half world—the demi
monde—so wilfully and so persistently
misunderstood by Anglo-Saxons. In
truth, i; comprises all that ts great
and interesting of the femininity of
Paris apart from the monde of high
society. •
There rides In her landau Brandes,
stirnamed "Beaute Troublante," a
great actress of the Theatre Francais.
Behind her you wil! see Margaret Du
rand, directrice of The Fronde daily
newspaper.
Here comes Jeanne Grader of the
Varieties, the wittiest woman In her
conversation, just as is “Gyp,” who
has passed her, with her pen. There
goes “Marni," another femme de let
tres, and Sevorine, another journalist.
Madame de Thebes, strong-faced and
massive, sits like an old Roman in
his chariot.
And who else? Emillenne d’Alen
son, both plump and statuesque, whe
began life as a milliner’s apprentice,
came near making herself the next
Duchosse d'Uzes, and is now a robust
and joyous professional beauty; Cleo
de Merode, hiding her ears with glos
sy tresses; Liane de Pougy, known for
her beauty, her toilettes, her suicides
and her extraordinary novel, written
by another person; Hejane, the most
Parisienne of all actresses;
Anna Held; Angele Heraud,
Otero, called the beautiful;
Polaire, who has the smallest waist
in Paris; and a hundred others, ai!
supremely elegant, the pride and joy
of great dressmakers, pillars of Pa
risian restaurants, ail living up to
Bicycling has become the inheritance
of the unlovely.
their full income, always at the front,
women impossible outside of Paris.
To the frequenters of the Avenue
of the Acacias it is a great diversion
to point ou{ these charming creatures
and retail the latest gossip of them.
To be able to lift one's hat every min
ute and receive a smiling nod in
recognition is the height of chic.
Indeed, one hears strange stories,
laughable, incredible, of what men
will do to receive such nods and
smiles. Thus, one Parisian subscribed
to a box at the X theater that he
might come to know its lovely star.
He knows her now and what it profits
him is this —he has a right to lift
hat to her.
Another has been "lending" money
for six months to an oid swell in re
turn for a dozen off-hand presenta
tions. all made at restaurants and
good for the purpose of the Bois
only.
Pair of Jacks Won $5,000.
A poker game was played in the
Butte Hotel at Butte, Mont., within
the past week in which four promin
ent business men were engaged. The
ante was $25 and a jackpot was
opened with four in. Brown opened
for SIOO with a pair of jacks.
Two players dropped out, but Jono.s
remained and played back for S2OO.
Brown raised it to S7OO before the
draw and then called for three card3.
1 Jones drew one. Brown passed, and
Jones, who had about $5,000 in front
of him. lapped his opponent for all he
had. amounting to $924. Brown wa3
satisfied that Jones was bluffing and
called him. and pulled down $3,948 on
his pair of jacks. Jones had drawn
to a bobtail flush and missed it.