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the Missouri and the upper Missis sippi swallow enough rich land to constitute a state as big as Massa chusetts. Why not save that pre cious land for our children and our children’s children? We spend mil lions on irrigation projects. If we can spend money to get water on to land, why can’t we spend money to get water off other land? That is a question which, though frequently asked, has never been satisfactory•* or adequately answered. Surely it is up to congress to answer it. * Progress. The world moves. A Chinese re public is proposed! Doesn’t that jar you? The Democratic idea, like Ten nyson’s brook, goes on forever. If Thomas Jefferson is cognizant of what happens on this mundane he must be delighted, to use a favor ite word of' the latest of his suc cessors. The Chinese have been sup posed to be not only joined to their idols, as was Ephraim of old, but also to their ideas. They have been counted as the most incurable conser vatives and moss-backs of all human beings, but there is such an institu tion as the Chinese Empire Reform Association, which has for its ambi tious purpose the Americanize rio’-> 'China and the establishment of a re public. Wonders will never and surely this is the most marvelous bit of news during the first seven days of 1907. Suppose the afore mentioned association should succeed in Americanizing China, which means that China and the Chinese would wake up. Suppose, also, that the 400,000,0*00 and odd Chinese, af ter they are waked up, should join hands with the forty odd millions of Japs who have already waked up, and that they should take it into their yellow pates to go forth con quering and to conquer? What then? All the white men on the face of the earth would be compelled in self de fense, to bury their own differences and line up together in order to withstand these Asiatic hordes. Asi atic nations, from time immemorial, have been in the habit of swarming after the fashion of bees, and the only reason they have not swarm ed much since the battle of Tours, in which Charles . Martel defeated Abd-er-Rahman, is that the power of the whites has restrained them. But within the lifetime of folks now on earth Japan has experienced a new birth. So may China, and when she does it is war to the death be tween the yellow races and the white races. * Millionaire Senators. Colorado delights in millionaire or multimillionaire senators. Hon. Thomas M. Patterson, who retires March 4, is a very rich man, perhaps a millionaire. He will be succeeded by Hon. Simon Guggenheim, a mul timillionaire. Patterson displayed ability in the house of the ancients, as everybody knew he would, for he had been a representative in con gress, is a great lawyer and editor of a great newspaper. Let us hope that his successor, while without ex perience in public affairs, may dem onstrate that he is a statesman and not a mere money bag. He starts out well by giving up all connection with the great smelter trust and de- clares that he will not represent a special interest or interests, but the whole state of Colorado. There may be doubts as to whether he can shake off his training as a trust magnate, but as his promises are fair people generally will be inclined to take him at his word. Some of Colorado’s multimillionaire senators have cut fantastic capers before high heaven, but her latest contribution to the sen ate may, for all that, make his mark as a valuable public servant. Nous verrons. Chinese Coolies. Hon. Samuel Gompers, president of the American Federation of Labor, has no influence, so we are informed by certain high and mighty Republi cans. As heretofore related, some of them even have the cheek to claim that his opposition to a measure boosts it rather than retards it. If that be true, strange things are hap pening—things inexplicable. For in stance, some of us about a year ago made a fight in the house to prevent the employment of Chinese coolies on the isthmian canal. President Gom pers was on our side in that fight, but the plutocrats rolled us. Now, how ever, reflecting on the election re turns, the Republicans have sudden ly concluded that President Gompers and the rest of us were right all the time, and, therefore, they declare that Chinese coolies will not be em ployed in building the canal, a fact on which Uncle Sammy Gompers may congratulate himself and union labor. Judge Walter Evans, of the United States court for the western district of Kentucky, has a sort of patent right on away to get his name into the newspapers, and that is by de claring important laws of congress unconstitutional. This habit of the judge causes President Roosevelt to devote a sharp paragraph in his De cember message to one of the judge’s decisions, though he did not name the judge. Now comes Judge Evans and “busts” the federal employers’ liability act. At this rate he will soon become persona non grata at the White House. ANOTHER ENGLISH CLASSIC. Last week we gave to the readers of the Jeffersonian “The Lay of the Laborer.” We presented this as a specimen of perfect English and also as a poem -which, of its kind, was most excellent. This week we give as a companion piece to “The Lay of the Laborer” another poem of the same class, by the same author, “The Workhouse Clock.” In the latter, the tone is deeper and scope of treatment wid er, and the pathos more universal. “The Lay of the Laborer” runs with the power of a river. In “The Work house Clock” there is the sound of the deep blue ocean, stirred to its depths by some great tidal wave. R THE WORKHOUSE CLOCK. An Allegory. •There’s a murmur in the air, A noise in every street— The murmur of many tongues, The noise of numerous feet— While ’round the workhouse door The laboring classes flock, THE WEEKLY JEFFERSONIAN. For why?—the overseer of the poor Is setting the workhouse clock. Who does not hear the tramp Os thousands speeding along Os either sex and various stamp, Sickly, crippled or strong, Walking, limping, creeping From court, and alley, and lane, But all in one direction sweeping, Like rivers that sweep the main? Who does not see them sally From mill, and garret, and room, In lane, and court, and alley, From homes in poverty’s lowest valley, Furnished with shuttle and loom— Poor slaves of Civilization’s galley— And in the road and footways rally, As if for the day of doom? Some, of hardly human form, (Stunted, crooked, and crippled by toil, Dingy with smoke, and dust, and oil, And smirched besides with vicious soil; Clustering, mustering all in a swarm. Father, mother, and careful child, Looking as if it had never smiled, The seamstress lean, and weary, and wan— With only the ghost of garments on— The weaver, her sallow neighbor, The grim and sooty artisan; Every soul-child, woman, or man, Who lives—or dies—by labor. Stirred by an overwhelming zeal, And social impulse, a terrible throng Leaving shuttle and needle and wheel, Furnace and grindstone, spindle and reel, Thread and yarn and iron and steel, Yea, rest, and the yet unitasted meal— Gushing, rushing, crushing along, A very torrent of Man! Urged by the sighs of sorrow and wrong, Grown at laist to a hurricane strong, Stop its course; who can! Stop, who can, its onward course, And irresistible moral force, O! vain and idle dream! For surely men are all akin, According to Nature’s scheme, That human movement contains within A blood-power stronger than steam. Onward, onward with hasty feet, They swarm—and westward still Masses born to drink and eat, But staving amidst Whitechapel’s meat, And famishing down Cornhill! Through the Poultry, but still un fed, Christian charity hang your head. Hungry—passing the Street of Bread, Thirsty—beside the Ludgate mart, So gorgeous through mechanic art, With cotton, and wool, and silk. At last, before that door That bears so many a knock, Ere ever it opens to sick or poor, Like sheep they huddle and flock— And would that all the good and wise Could see the million of hollow eyes, With the gleam derived from hope and the skies, Upturned to the workhouse clock! 0! that the parish powers Who regulate labor’s hours The daily (amount of human trial, Weariness, pain, and self-denial, Would turn from the artificial dial, That striketh ten or eleven, And go for once by that older one That stands in the light of Nature’s sun, And bakes its time from Heaven LET THE PEOPLE ELECT. In the Jeffersonian of this week reference is made to a report of the interstate commerce commission, which gives 16,937 as the number of people killed by railroads in the United States in the second quarter of this year. The report was grati fying to the commission that so small a number were killed, as a larger number had been killed during the preceding quarter. Just think of it—the cfommtence commission gratified that only 16,- 93/ people had been killed by rail roads in the United States in the long period of three months’ time! Our railroads kill annually more people than are killed in most of the wars 'that have happened in history. This is American thrift and progress, and many millions may be destroyed before the people realize fully the utter reckless disregard of life a soulless corporation has when trying to make dividends on watered stock. The Rambler is opposed to government ownership of railroads, but we do insist, at the top of our voice, that the goveirnment should control them, and we believe that this can be done if all of our officers are elected by the people—not only rail road commissioners, but from federal judges and United States senators down to postmasters—so that every demagogue is amenable only to the people. Let the people elect every thing.—Rambler, Cordele, Ga. THE NEW MAGAZINE, Watson’s Jeffersonian Magazine— first number—-is before uis. Jt is very attractive in appearance, me chanically, and the contents are for the most part, Watsonian, which means that they are interesting, and that a spade is not called a shovel. One feature of the magazine is espe cially fine. We refer to the depart ment under the head of “A Survey of the World,” in charge of that peerless writer, Chas. J. Bayne. If there were nothing else in the maga zine, this department alone would be worth the price of subscription. Will N. Harben’s latest novel, “Ann Boyd,” will run serially in the mag azine, and those who like Mir. Har ben’s work will be afforded a splen did opportunity to study his charac ters and philosophy. To those who want Mr. Watson’s magazine, we will state that we can supply it in connection with The Citi zen almost at the price of the maga zine alone. The magazine is worth $1.50 per. year. For $1.75 we can supply The Citizen and magazine for one year. Let us have your subscriptions at once, that you may start in with the first number of the magazine.—North Ga. Citizen, Dalton, Ga. 3