Montana Sunlight (Whitehall, Mont.) 1902-1911, December 26, 1902, Image 3

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—, @ zically. ‘. “Do you know Harris?” 6 sia, r on j - $3 ; . eF 7 ee ee * eeeee ee . : hee 2 ; or ee . . op 77; ‘ , 77 oe a 7 ‘i 7\ . ee > poe ee +E =z * dode tz By GHARLES M. SHELDON, $3 KE Author of ~t Ils Steps,” “Robert Hardy's Seven Days,” Etc, $f TF 7 See . eof oe ee co Copyright, 1901, by Charles M. Bheldon ey ‘4 FREE EEE PSE EP ES Be dn cs din ta ie tial ak i at el tks SESE ae CHAPTER Ik. “You're killing your. | aclf.” T last John Gordon spoke slowly. “David, do you know how much} you have tempted | me?” “For your good.” “I’m not so sure, The offer is full of possibilities. Still”\— “Well, don’t keep anything back,” “The News itself—-you know my ideas about It. The paper is full of sensation; it is unreliable; it is not jour- nalism that any thoughtful wan re | spects.” “What difference does that make if you have your own page to do with it} as you like?” | Barton spoke with apparent indiffer- | ence concerning his friend's estimate | of journalism, as If he either acknowl: | edged the truth of Gordon's statement | or did not care to argue it, | “Of course it makes a good deal of | difference. Do you think Harris is | sincere in his reform mworements? Is he using the paper to help the people | or is he simply taking up popular causes because he is shrewd enough | to see that it is good policy for the | News?\ Barton looked at Jobn Gordon quiz- “I've seen bim, but I don’t know him.” ; “Neither do I. He's put $2,000,000 into the News, and the paper. bas made at least half that in the time It bas been going. He’s proud as Lucifer and has Lucifer’s ambition. He's willing to do anything except get Into jail for the paper, and he'd probably do that if it would increase the circulation. But what difference does it make to you, John, so long as you have full swing in your own department?” “I don’t know that my work will | really be helped by going into print. To tell the honest truth, I have no faith in Harris, and I have a contempt for his journalistic methods. Now look here.” Jobn Gordon picked up from the ta- ble a copy of the News and began read- ing.some of the headlines. “Microbes In Car Straps! Menace to Traveling Public! Danger Explained by Professor Roltger of the Universt- tyr’ “The Richest Woman In the World! Her Dally Routine! Over $500,000 Worth of Gems In Her Hair at the Court Ball!” “The Cost of One Day's Spree -For Two Fourteenth Strect Bloods! Item- ized Account!” “Mrs. Brown Calls Mra. Jones a Liar! They Have a Scrappy Time of It In the Back, Yard! The Neighbors Takea Hand!” = % “Theological Set-to at the University! Professors Do Not Agree on Figures! One Teaches That Adam Never Ex isted!”’ “The Newest Fad! For Egyptian Mummies! Developments!” “The Tallest Woman In America! Her Diet, Daily Habits, etc.” “Rottenness at the City Hall! A Full Exposure of Dr. Lumme’s Ex- travagances! Policeman Murphy Scores a Hit at Alderman Schwartz! Turn on the Light!” ~ “Thoroughbred Toy Dogs! An Ex- pensive Luxury! Mrs. Near Has a Choice Collection!” “Ghastly Suicide of an Old Sailor! Purposely Jumped Into a Vat of Boil- ing Acid! Full Particulars!” “Warl The Sultan Is Growing More! Defiant! Orders Out Bosporus Fleet!” ; “Thé Sandal Craze! Boots and Shoes a Back Number Soon! Pictures of Latest Styles!” Gordon threw the paper down, and Barton laughed cynically. ’ “What's the matter with ft? At any rate, they keep buying. it. Whoever sees an Index or a Standard around, Hope House? There you are! If you ‘want to reach the people, do it through the medium that the people use. Think of over 3,000,000 renders of the.News every day.” “Yea, think of It!’ exclaimed John Gordon. “Think of the stuff they rend that is untruth and exaggeration and hysteria about matters that are of no value. A column to “Toy Dogs! kept by a rich woman who spends enough money ov. them to save the lives Of a | hundred twbies! It is this sort of thing that-makes anarchists and criminals. | All Harris wants out of a reform page | fs to advertise the paper. I’m almost Society's Craze The Latest * pure of it.” ' “Probably!” said Barton dryly. “At . the same time you can be gettiag in, your. reform work through a paper | that, is read by the very people you | want to help.” | “But it is not read nor believed in by the very people who ‘have it in their power to help the people. David, the best people in the clty don’t cate for the News. They laugh at Its editorials / an idea that his paper runs the town. | ular appeal than from that. place as a and doh't care for its Influence. It real- ly has no influence with them,” For the -first time David Barton seemed disturbed. The frank criticism of his friend concerning the News in respect to its printed. matter bad nor moved him, But this last statement touched a tender spot. Barton's pale cheeks flushed, and he struck the table with his clinched fist. “Better not tell Uarris that! [Me has He thinks: his editorials make public sentiment.” “He's wrong!” John Gordon spoke decidedly, “His editorials have no such power. They are rated along with the test of the paper, The fact is the yel- low journalism works out its own de- ttruction inevitably. Its days are al- ready numbered.” 7 “Our cireulation is increasing.” “All the bigger fall when it comes,” replied John Gordon briefly, and then they were both startled by a yoice from the doorway of the room adjoining. , “Beg pardon, Barton, I couldn't make you hear, though I knocked twice.” Barton turned his head as a man came 4nto the room and exclaimed, “Mr. Harris!” at the same time sending a questioning flash to Gordon, “Wonder how much he heard?” Harris walked up to the table and coolly helped himself to a cigar from a little Chinese pot and lighted it at the cigar jet. “Mr. Joha Gordon, Mr. Harris,” said Barton, who bad fully recovered his usual indifferent attitude by this time. “Glad to meet you, Mr. Gordon,” said Harris, putting out a very long white hand. John Gordon took it, al- though instantly he felt a most intense dislike for the man. He. was of a thin, wiry physique, pmiooth faced, a bloodless complexion, straight lips and cold gray eyes. His manner was perfectly self possessed, nnd neither Gordon nor Barton could detect any sign on his face that he had overheard a syllable of their talk be- fore he entered. He was faultlessly dressed and had the geueral appear- ance of a man who has exhausted a large part of his Interest in life on ac- count of a large number of intense ex- periences. At the same time there was a serious alertness ahout him that was very noticeable. Ele was not biase in the ordinary use of that word. He evi- dently bad boundless faith in himself. Jobn Gordon had no difficulty In telling why the man produced such a dislike in him. It was because of bis absolute ecotism., “Mr. Gordon is my friend; the one I mentioned to you the other day as a possible contributor In a new depart- ment,” Barton sald o& Harris still re mained standing near the table. Harris looked at Gordon and said carelessly: “I understand you are going to ex- periment down in the slums around Bowen street.” “I may live there. 1 don't know about experimenting,” sald John Gor- don coldly. He was rapidly beginning to have Miss Andrews’ dislike of the word “slums” as he bad already crown to have a hatred of the idea of “exper- imenting” with the people. Harris walked over to a chair at the other end of the table, and after a at- lence which neither Barton nor Gordon the paper color. some of these plans. actual touch with the district: as| busy over mF own plans that 1 have to be able to give what you write for | motthought of you. Why have you not | I also realize that | let me know about”— you have need of nioney to carry out | “Oh, let's talk of your matters. Mine That is the rea: can walt, Besides, dov't you know it's “gon I stand prepared to make this not the thing to talk to sick people offer, If you will undertaWe this work, about their condition? Don't make me T will pay you $500 a mont! and in ad. believe that I bave anything, llow dition help carry out sorhe of these about Harris’ offer?” ideas where money Is needed, I don't “IT have decided not to accept it,” re care to say just how much I'll give. | plied John Gordon quietly, = enough for that when we get to it.” Hé stopped abruptly, and then, to “That's plump. Say why.” John Gordon did not answer at once. “I've already told you partly, Seeing the surprise of the two friends, he ‘Harris confirms my opinion concerning | suddenly rose and said as he came up his insincerity, He simply. wants to to the table and took his hat, which he use thevfacti of my connection with had laid down there: “Don't answer now, eration, Five it consid: Whatever you choose to ar. | Hope House to get © feature more or _ less sensational for the News.” “You didn't take to him wery loving: range with Barton will be satisfactory. ly, did you?\ Barton chuckled. Barton, you'd better get out to Colora: + Knowles | bim.” do for a month, as I advised, can manage very well for awhile lon. ger. Good night.” He walked out, ahd Barton and Gor- don sat silent for a moment. “Of course he heard what you suid about the paper having no influence with the best people,” said. Barton, - with a chuckle, “I believe he did, but his manner did not betray It except once.” “Yes, I noticed that, Oh, the old man would give his long white hand to possess real influence. That's his am- bition, my boy. “All be said about the boulevard and the skim was pure non- sense. He. doesn’t believe it any more than I do.” “I believe it, though. He epoke\the truth whether he meant to or not,” “What difference?” David Barton spoke carelessly, tion, John,” le added, keenly watebing Gordon, “How about that, ch? The epening, the leverage, the money. Wait a minute, This confounded cough is golng to get me again.” He went tuto the other room this time, and his coughing spell lasted so long that Gordon was alarmed. He went in where his friend was sitting with his head down between his knees, his whole body racked with the effort, and when it was over he still main- tained the same position until Gordon remonstrated with bim. “David, you're in no condition to go on with work. You're killing yourself on the News, I had no idea you had such a cough How long have you been this. way?’ “The avernge limit of usefulnesa on the News,” said David Burton as he lifted up his head, “is less than ten years from the time of beginning. I've been with it now going on six. The rule In a dally paper is, no old men in auy department. If you see an old man anywhere around the office, he’s a visitor or a strahger. Modern jour nalism isa man killer. I'm just one of the fools caught between the rollers. See? It's like this. Uarrjs prizes me because I know how. ButSwhen I once let go he knows he can get another fool to take my place. Food for the lion. Three cheers for the press! It's the great agency_of civilization. It’s the prize life taker. It's the--look ont! Here 1 go again!” He put his head down and coughed so long gna violently that at the end seemed inclined to break he said, lenn- Ing a little forward and speaking with careful emphasis: “Mr. Gordon, I am prepared to make you a proposition that I lope you will at lenst thoughtfully consider. The | News now has a circulation of .700,000 | copies a day. That means that practt- | cally 3,000,000 people fread it. At léast | half the population of the city read my | paper. It is especially true of the workingmen, the poor and the people of the street and the shop. The boule-; vard may uot take the News. -Grant- ed.” Gordon, looking at the newspaper owner, thought he could detect just a shadow of resentment ubder the ap- parent {ndifference. “But the slum takes It and reads. I'd rather have the slum reader any time. The boulevard does not make anything but itself, but the slum makes conditions. Now, then, this Is my proposition: I will give you the entire control of a page of the News to write up the conditions of the city where you expect to live or work. May I ask where? Mr. Barton has not informed me.” “I expect to live as a resident In Hope House.” “Good!” Harris exclaime1 with an ‘eagerness that was unin'stakable. “You. couldn’t do better. ifiss An- drews of course has made her work known everywhere She has been an occasional contributor to. tbe News. You couldn't strike out on a more pop- center. See here. Let me biock out a programme for a page that will set this city to thinking as it never thought before.” “4 He at once outlined a series of sub- jects for a reform page from the social settlement viewpoint which was sim- ply marvelous {n its understanding of the conditions and the needs. Burton, with a Lorn newspaper man's instinct, grasped the detalls with rapidity and showed his {ntergest by an occasional interjection or hint that at once led off into further possibilities, Even Gor- don, with his growing feeling of repul- sion for. the man, which increased ev- ery-minute, cvnld not resfst an admira’ tion for his great shrewdness and in- sight. ing oyt the page Gordon thrilled at the vision opened up of what might be And all the time he was block. , “I am prepared to make you a propo- sition.”” of it John Gordon found himself on his knees by the side of his friend holding bis head and now thoroughly alarmed “ft found myself in danger of hating “Still, Harris bas his good points. ‘He's the most egotistic man | ever knew, but with the exception of that, and perhaps a dozen other remarkable | faults, he’s interesting. lie’s interest- nig,” Barton repeated. “You're too particular, John, I con't see why you can’t ‘carry on the department and make things around Rowen street just hum for reform if you have the paper to help you: If you expect an angel to come along and give you a page of his daily to boost your reforms, you'll have to walt till angels xre thicker in the newspaper business than they are now, I don’t khow any myself. My ac- | quaintance so far has been inthe other “But this proposi- ,don spoke thoughtfully, “I direction,” “There’s another given for refusing Harris,” reason 1 hayen't John Gor- want to know the people before-1 begin to talk or write about them. And I ought to spend at least ten years of my life jn seeing, hearing, thinking, knowing, but not much in writing—not yet. Do you know what the bishop of London said awhile ago?” “No; I don’t know the bishop.” “He said: ‘I have found that isola tion of one class from another is the root of all social evils. Contact with the neglected people and the Inpsed masses was the method of Christ's reclamation of the lost. It is the only method that can sueceed now.’ Isn't that quite remarkable for a bishop? I met him in London. He is the most all around Christian | ever saw.. I wish they had a bishop like that here. Now, you see I don't want to go into | the newspaper busincss In the senan tional way that Harris wanta. I need to live among the people for a period, at least until) I am able to talk and | write with some sort of knowledge. Harris’ idea is to burst out with a page of denunciation and bysterical pictorial exposre of human conditions, partly for political reasons, but more especially to get the News before the public and do a big advertising bus! ness.” “You wrong Harris, even at his worst,” said Barton decidedly. “I can't help thinking he’s got™some liuman kindness in him. He may be all ego tisin, but he’s not all bad. There's the money offer, You heren't considered that.” John Gordon seemed troubled tor a moment, “Of course we shall need “money for | all the things we plan. Miss Andrews was wishing she might secure $5,000 for the new dormitory, She goes out and lectures every winter to make ex penses.” “Yes. The city will kill-her, It will kill ber, I tell you!” cried out Barton iu a genuine burst of rage. “The world kills all its prophets and reformers in one way or another,” said John Gordon andly. “The blood of the martyrs ts the seed of thé church. The very people that applaud Miss An- drews and say she is doing a grand work don't come to her rescue in any great numbers. And she is in sore need right now.” |} medicine show affords | } ' . mobile? “Then why don't you let Parris help?” “Tle can help If be wants to. If he’s | sincere, he will do it without my going on the paper a gesture. “1 think I can secure some money from men fn the eity.” * “Let me know bow much, so we can publish the amount, will you?” Barton said dryly. John Gordon did not answer, and after yufle a long silence Barton said suddenly: “By the way, I suppose Miss Marsh will help you, of course. You'll be mar- ' rled and set up residence together In “Why, this can’t go on, David,” he | expostulated. “Yes, it can apparently. At least it seems to go on quite easily.” “But you'll simply commit euszide | if you don’t listen to reason and quit all work for at least six months.” “Can't do it. Got too much at stake.” Barton answered. He rose, and, going into an adjoining room, he took some medicine, bathed his face and came out looking so much-better that John Gordon was amazed. A “Only a trifling little cough, Jobn. It’s not on my lungs. Just a throat trouble. I got caught out in the rain down near Hope House the other Hope House? How did you win her over to your oxtreme views?” “I didn’t. We are not going to be married. She refuses to go with me Into Hope House, Oh, David, do you think that was a mistake?’ It all poured out at onecc, because all the evening John Gordon had been longing to confide iu the one man in all the city whom ho loved and trusted. Everything they had been talking about so far had seemed ia one sonse of small importance compared with his heart’s hunger for her, which had , deepened with every moment's absence ! from her. night and didn’t have a chance to steal | an umbrella without getting caught again. Come in and let's have out the refortn busines. You can’t let Harris’ offer- go by. It's too much of a chance.” ~* “But I'm keeping you up too late,” Gordon said doubtfully. “Why, old man, haven't you sent your things over here to stay until you get married or something? Whose are those duds out in the hall?” “They’re mine, I expect. I sent them over this afternoon. The break had to come at héme some time, and I knew you would take me in at any time.” “Sit down, then,” said Barton, giving his friend a push into an easy chair. He himself went over to a lounge and lay down on it, turning his pale, thin face, with its great, glowing eyes, to- ward John Gordon. ° The grim denth had already laid a done for the people and by them if | !ong hand on Bartonjs chest, but with, once a daily that was really thers lived its life for theirs. “Of course I understand,’ Harris had at last added, “that all this will mean | a trémendous amount of work. That the stubborn cynicism of bis character Bartom refused to acknowledge any mastery, although, contrary to most victims of consumption, -he knew and ‘acknowledged himself that do what be is what a daily paper means to eyery-| Would he could not shake that hand body connected with it. But It need not menn that you would have to give up residence in Hope House. In fact, it would ‘be better to continue your 4 John Gordon mournfully eyed the re- eumbent figure on the lounge. _“Forgité me, David, I have been go « His immediate resolve to go to Hope House, ‘his talk with Miss An- drews, his visit with bis friend, the in- eident of Harris and his offer were not evidence of his inscusibility to that. re- solve on her part to reftise his choice of life work. It was only characteris tic of him to go straight on with the details of his life no matter what oc- curred, John Gordon was.the last man or moody isolation on account of great private trouble or sorrow. Bat he longed for sympathetic coun- sel. “And his impulsive outery simply voiced another fact of his nature, the fact of his affectionate trust in friend- ship, a trust that kept no event sceret that a friend might wish to know and share. David Barton sat up and exclaimed sharply: “Do you mean to say that Miss Marsh refuses to live with you in Hope House?’ ’ “She does refuse, but I did not give her time, I am afraid, to give her rea- sons.” _ “Time for reasons! How wuel) time doea-she want?” Barton weirt'on say- Agely. “Hope House is not good enough for her, ch? She is not willing 40-g0 with the mau who loves her Into S8chi a burden bearing life! She loves her nige, clean, soft, ensy, social posl- tion more than she loves the man! No, T tell you’ “Barton silenced his friend, Who made a gesture of dissént. “The Girls of this age are not like those of in the world to withdraw Into a sullen, I've made up my mind,” | Gordon hastily added’as Barton made | | Sur fathers. - makes a man want to climuge bad laws hey are not willing to begin In a small, economical way and share thelr husbands’ privations. They Want big, expensive establishments right off. They have no idea of any sort of life except one of luxury and soclal successes, To my mind, you're well rid of her!” “No, no, David! Not that! not to have niade such a test. not know her as I do,” “I don't want to either. Isn't it for better, for worse, for richer, for poor er? If I were the woman you loved, wouldn't I go with you anywhere, John? You know I[ would, mean, selfish animal that I am, If I were a woinan and had of John Gor don, I wouldn't even ask him where he was going. I would siniply go. That's the reason-I-say-you're well rid of her, She's not worthy, of yoa, John.” “But you have never loved any one, David!” cried Johu Gordon in grewt distress, for he was nearer saying a sharp word to his friend than at any time since thelr friendship began. “I love you, John, more than this selfish woman ever loved. But I'm afraid that's not saying very much. Wouldn't I diegfor you?” “I believe yqu would, Dayid,” “Well, this woman wouldn't even live for you.” “It's harder to live than to die some- T ought You do * “What's that? times,” Joho Gordon answered, with a sigh. | “I tell you she’s not worthy of you. John, ‘Mend your broken beart or get. another’” Barton sang the first | Iine\of « popular music hall ballad. | “No woman is worthy of a man ff she | refuses to ept bis terms when they | are as reasonable and as necessary as | yours,’ But it has hit you hard, hasn't it?” | For answer John Gordon laid his | head down on the table. Barton eyed him: sympathetically, but offered w0| word of congolation. After awhile he muttered: “Confound these women! They make more trouble than-all the men put to- wether. The young fellow scems to} have sustained a compound fracture. But iti heal in time. Géod thing he’s got a steady job.\Hope House will give him employment.” He lny quiet, and after a little Gordon rose and | Ife stayed there until he heard Bar ton begin to cough again, when he in- | etantly returned to bis friend's side to | find him sitting up on the couch, his! head between his bands, This time the coughing was of short | duration, avd Barton exclaimed the instant he was able to speak: | “I can tell. time by my cough,-it's eo regular, JW shall miss it when it leaves The last one tonight. 1 usually wind it up ebout half past 10.” “David, bave you consulted a doc tor?” “Not today.” “Any time?’ “Certainly.” “What does he say?” | “Just what you and Harris say. Quit work,and go-to Colorado. 1 can't Don't bother, about It. I won't go, that's all. I've begun to get attached to the cough, it bas shown such an af- | fection for me.” He straightened up and laughed at the look In his friend's face. Gordon was only partly assured, “It will kill you,” “First time anything ever did.” “You have no right to neglect ft.” | “Neglect it? Don’t I nurse it day ond night? No cough ever bad better care than mine. I give it the best the patent walked tnto the other room | “It will be the death of you.” “All right,” Barton said cheerfully “Rather die from my cough than from a-stupld, thoughtless trolley cnr Ry the way, Jolin, did you ever think of the difference between being run over by_a_horse and wagon and an alito | “Ll never cave it much thonght.” | “More people get run over by nuto- mobiles than by borses, so the facts show. You see a man can dodge a horse because he—the horse—is alive. But an automobile— Let's change the subject. Give me your programme.” “My programme!” “Your programme as a_ reformer. | What are you going to do? What lies In your mind? Joln\— Pavyid Barton | swiftly changed from the careless, €ip pant. manner he had assumed over his | pliysical condition, and John Gordon instantly knew the friend who loved him was talking now out of his great | serious heart. | “John, if you are really going to try to make the old world bet ter you've held out your arm to a wres | tler who will give you the etruggle of | your life, I want to help, f don't be- | lieve it will amount to anything—the | struggle, I mean. And maybe not the| | help either. But tell me your heart's | desire.” | “Well, then,” John Gordon answered, | while his whole expression glowed | with his real deep religious enthust- | asm and a pride that swept bis thonght | tily, as If disturbed by some iden for- fee even of Luella Marsh. out 6f existence, “T haye a programme. First, I plan to live at Ifope House ns long as I canbe of use there or as long ns I can from that place in the city learn the city. It inay be five years, it may be ten. If it is ten, I shall be only forty. A man cannot do much publig work worthy of the name until he is forty.” “History and blography say other- wise, but never mind,” muttered Bar- ton, “Co on.” “My plans of course do not cover possibilities that may come into my experience at the end of my residence in Hope House, But 1 have dreamed of. many things. I don't mean book knowledge, but live, personal know!l- edge of people. Not the kind that makes a man a professor of sociology in the university, but the kind that or make good ones; the kind of knowl edge of people that Paul had when he sald, ‘Woe is me if I preach not the gospel;’ the kind of knowledge of Re! ple that compels a man to.see in every other man a universe of eternal value and eternal happiness.” “There are mighty few, people in this eity that ibink of run-down-at-the-heel humanity after that fashian,” muttered Barton again. Then after a silence he asked; “Who's against you In all this?’ “Selfish greed, ecclesiastical pride in the churches, political rottenness in the city management, cynteal indifference on the part of cultured men and wom- en, whisky, yellow press, business in- | teresis wherever they touch financial lows, if reform calls for saerifiee; for- ¢ . } Ungrateful | were, I | up time eign born and forelgn shaped classes, but most of all the opposition of high bred apathy which grows out of the soil f irreligion.” “And who is on your side?’ Barton asked almost mechanically, in a low tone, “God, all good men and women In the churches, and there are many; a rising sentiipent among young men against municipal partisanship, a gradually ris- Ing journalism which In time will de mand the extinetion of yellow journal ismy which is an excrescence that car- ries in large measure its own destrue- tion, and a rising tide of popular pas sion against the saloon as an institu. tion and for more equal opportunities in the fleld of struggle for human hap piness,”* “You-left-out thedtargest item in the list of forces against reform.” “The people themselyes.” “Of course | realize that.” Jolin Gor- don replied slowly. “But it was not the people that crucitied Jesus, It was the scribes and Pharisees,” “The people yelled, ‘Crucify him!\ “The rabble, you mean.” “What's ‘the difference?” “[ don't know exactly, but the rabble is not the people,” “Mighty fine -distinetion.” Barton muttered again. “Of course you can't She put the book in his hands, that the lot deny ectninon people are an You heal ten lepers | and only one out of the ten will ever thank you for it.” “What difference docs that make to me If they've henled?\ “Heap of difference to them, though | I suppose you know that even the poll | ticians don't get In Miss Audrews’ way so much as the people themselves general, good, of greater concern than their particular good, grateful tot, the people are.” “Not all of them, But even If they don't know that is any reason for letting “them alone, Jesus probably knew that only one of the ten lepers would return to give thanks, yet be healed them ali.” “They must be mighty ashamed of themselves by. this tine,” said Rartov wenrily. Gordon tnustantly noted It “You're tired out. Not another word un tonight. Can't I do anything for you? No? You will call me if you need me?\ “Yes, of course, You know where your old roow ta. at home I gave orders to Willlam when your things cume to get your room ready. Sound you.” In the morning the friends break fasted at a clubroom near by, where Barton had bachelor quarters at table,; and John Gordou noted with concern the face of Barten, which marks of wakefulness “I coughed ence or twice just to keep And at 6 o'clock I went] cap for a men he can exeape her only in practice off again Just as a reminder of getting But don't you worr rh be all right when I get used to it.” He laughed lightly and accompanied Gordon part way down Into the city, leaving him ct the potot where the | Hope House district began, after exact ing a promise from him that he would | take dinner with him at 7 that evening. Jobn Gordon went at once to Hope | Hiouse and had a conference with Miss, Andrews. “There is no reason.why | should not begin my work at once,” Gordon sald “The trouble is\ —Miss Andrews spoke with a alight smile—“you are not like the average resident, More than half my people Turing the last ten years have left me to enter their life work. Now I understand”— “This is my Ufe work,” said Gordon gravely. “It is a matter of both life and death, Mr. Gordon. But let us arrange a definite programme,” she added has- eign to this conference, “dw would you like a tenement bouse tour to be. gin with?” For answer Miss Andrews took down ! from the house Ibrary a volume con taining a Hst of property owners tn Hope House neighborhood. Before giv- Ing Jt to Gordon she said sadly; “You must not let this list disturb your gen- eral purpose. Of course it will not do that. But I am sure you want all the facts.” “That is just what | want,” said Gordon, wondering a little at Miss An drows' gravity, although she was al ways calinly serloyg, She quietly, but with the same man- ner of doubtful hesitation, put the book in bis hands and went into the ball tu answer a summons, John Gordon opened the volume and began to run down the names in the liste Lle was alone at the time, thinking back over the experience /he was able to recall the strange sensa- tion he bad of* isolation from every | | he had to. fight against the falsehood | Just wake yourrelt, kieal, if she showed | as to one who bas found him out. frieud, even Barton, whom he had not seen for several days. “This feeting-of isolation Was so unusually strong that that there was no tie of friendship in bis work, that he stood alone in the strugele for humanity. Name after name of agents or firms or companies haying control of the | property around Hope House had been | read by dim, and he had not reached the bleck be had been studying, for his ; Interest deepened every moment as he } recognized familiar names, familiar iu |} the commercial and social world, | Ile turned over a page’and came to the section marked “Waterside.” and | the second name he rewd was “Rufus | Gordon.” with nunibers Indicating | ownershlp of several cof the worst | houses in the block. He read the name with heightening color and went on, and neurthetop-of the opposite: page he ‘fav ite name of Philo H. Marsh | and nuinbers crediting bin wit own | Ing half a dozen tenements |} at the bottom of the » | noted the same naine again as thegearn er of property which, by reference to the map of the appendix, he identified, by comparison with his own draft of the, block, as saloon and vaudeville property, “Luella’s father!\ The tdea that for yonrs the woman to whom be had given ; his affections had idled in the luxury | of her home, kept In the possession of the things of social luxury by means of money that bad the taint of buman wisery and shame and sin ou it, enused him to.revolt agalust the |} Wholé cruel social indifference of that | part of the social world represented by the facts In the book tefore him “Luella’s father nnd mine also!” he added Ile leaned his head his | hand, and bis face grew stern. Misa Andrews, coming beck to the Hbrary ind stood there Glanelng Gordon sort, onsy on panaed In the doorway a moment looking tutently at him WISDOM OF THE WIDOW. | They dov't know enough to make the Views of a Man whe Does Not Agree With Tony Weller. They're a0 U0) the manwhe-marrios Ww fil Just out of school has need of wuch shrewdness, | net and fortitude, for the first year of | Giatrimopy will produce a violent revo | kxtfon in lier mind. As she learns to know her busband--she who bas never } secon Lim except when he bad lia best | coat on—she will deem bim a brute aud } Will be Usappotnted and-diggusted, for | she will compare hin with that impor sible ideal of manhood which girl bas in bev wind avd of which he, of course, falls short But with ex- perience will come wisdom In time she will understand that ber girlhood’s vere to have him in the flesh, would an. unbearable priz, and that ber husband is about as good fs men go and even —if she loves bim a little better than the next man | A widow has all this knowledge of mensatud_of the world, which a spinster lacks. A nun talks (6 a widow freocly She is expert in the arts of pleasing lini, and if a brigut young widow sets her ever; hes uo IMusions i trained and by. Qight. A widow and no kieals, She is we } used to golug double, while the spinster jis an unbroken filly and is bound to kick up a good deal when she first feels ;a tug at the Sun Fraucisev | Bulletin. suuflie RNatn cnd San Procf Coop. I have a chicken coop which I think | sults me better than any other I have | tried before, says J. C, Beeraft of Mor shall, Mo., in a letter to Voultry Keep er. This coop is made out of cheap Inu ber. The bottom is hinged at the back | MR. BECRAFT'S coor. to the upper part. At the front 1 drive “1 will do whatever you suggest. I | two staples to fasten the coop down so am sure that, whatever It-is, It will be just the right thing to do.” “Here Is obedience for you! you always be as tractable?\ “I hope so.” “Very well.” She hesitated a mo- ment. “Suppose you go out with Ford, Ile is making a report of the block west of Bowen street.. You can help bim.” For a week John Gordon and Ford. the university student, made a special study of a block of tenements in the Hope House district. Ford took kodak pictures of alley s,and back yards and stairways and groups of tenement chil dren and inanimate groups of garbage and stifling narrow courts und displays of soiled and tattered wash and every- thing else except the smells, as Gordon said, and he and Ford took them with- out the sid of a camera. Gordon tabu lated statistics, birth and death rate, density, nationality, disease, vccupa- tion, religion and absence of it, number of people in single rooms, quality of food used;-drink and drunkenness, sa- loons in, block and their revenue, to- gether with all other items that bore on the life of the lives in that ulcer of the city. At the end of the week Gordon had reached some conclusions. “What can be done about bettering eoyditions? The people in the tene- ments are victimes to a large degree of conditions that they are unable to het- ter. The owners of the property! There's the vital point. Iluw ‘to reael’ them?” \\, < Will as it can be moved about. The upper part comes down over the-floor.all the way so that you can put a najl through the staple. The shade in the, font Is to keep the sun and rin out. These coops are very oasy to clean Coraptcuons Example. “Women are belittled ayd nfade of no account in eyery possible way,” ex- claimed the indignant head of the fam- lly. “Even the geographers willfully and deliberately slight her. How miany really important towns in this country are pamed in honor of a woman” “Well, my dear,” said ber husband, scratching bis chin reflectively, “there s Janesville, you Know.\--Chicago Trib- une. Better Than a Plaster. A piece of flannel dampened with Chamberlain's Pain Balm and bound.on the affected parts, is bet- ter than a plaster for a lame back and for ‘pains in the side or chest. Pain* Balm. has no superior as a liniment for the relief of deep seated, muscular’ and rheumatic pains. . For sale by F. H. Negley. Go to Negley for watch repair- |ing. All work guaranteed. [ttf

Montana Sunlight (Whitehall, Mont.), 26 Dec. 1902, located at <>, image provided by MONTANA NEWSPAPERS, Montana Historical Society, Helena, Montana.