eel SPEIRIN’ MAES AN ODDS. CHAPTER... “‘Comin’ tae the fishin, 7” **Will ye ca’ _ “igo heidit?” “As ae as dei es off, big omit boy and litt vid maiden, hand in hand in the golden san light through the fields together. hem lay the farm, aud in front, beyond the cornfields, a little infant river had es re from its ample hill, and with infinite babble ard chat- @ away to the sea. Presently ar mreachel te Durbente,, and kneeling on e green sward, were svon intent on the baiting of the hoo k. ‘ “There,” said Sandy, as he cast the line well up the water, and let it float down till it rested in a promising brown pool. san te, that, an’ stan’ weel back, or they'll see-ye; tilt T try if I can get ony worms under the stanes yonder.” Agnes seized the rod and stood on tipt her brown eyes rk Sy excitement an ‘her auburn hair tum’ gone ,” shouted Sandy from a knowe, a little way down the water ; “buc if e feel abite ye're no tae ; bide ‘ill I a eared Agnes with afrown. ‘It wouldna be my catchin’ ata’then.” But aloud she only said, ‘‘f dinna think they're takin Tow hich Sandy retor cad contemptuously . “Weemin's a’ the same ee Ve Lae muir patience than a hungry 8 “Te’s a leo,” said Agnes fiercely, turning Sidetens her eex. ‘“I—— O Sandy! I've got a bite—a bite. “Haud still thea * yelled Sandy, sprin ing to his feet and running to her aid ; bide or I come. But she was too excited to heed him; with a great, effort she tugged the line out of the water. The head and shoulders of the fish gleamed for a moment above the sur- face, — dropped off and disappeared. t’s away !" she cried in dismay, “What for did ye no wait?” cried Sandy, angrily. “I kent ye couldna land it. Sic a big ane tac, ye little red-hei-lit idiot that ye are; and he took the red roughly from er hand, pushing her scornfully out of the way. “Ye micht hae lost it yoursel’,” she said savagely. 1’ it was my ain fish, I could loss it if I liked. An’ it doesna majitter if I’m red- heidit ; my grannie says the Lord’s no carin’, a’ hair’s the same tae Him; it’s the heart He looks at, and nine’ ‘s - uid your ony day. Here she paused : ath- ss, and clared triumphantly : thinking “abs had finisher But he vaally “repli ed, ken; your heart's red tae, t the phy siology “Gramiie doesna for the maister class at the vord and the thought that th master inal publiel ly alluded to her heart in the echool fairly staggered her; she Lirst into (ours. “TT tell ny grannie, “she sobbed, and rushed off towards the farm: but not iu time to ese ape Sandy ‘S parting shaft, 0 '; yere just a wee red vas restful and auiet in the old Enemy stehen; a bright tire bu the spotless hearth, and (1 mroey, mutch i kerchiel peaceftlly ato idl Stace’, white a Sandy's fat i and Ne re ‘s uncie —read the a Hy k {Weer stersi. : ae n, aia -Agnes, 1, darted in and Suddenly the lent ly tear-staincd and dis threw herself in Gr. a cairn, bairn, what's Grannie in dismay. “San-Sun Sandy ca‘ed me a wee red dee- vil,” ehe sobbed. “Weel, weel, whist whist, ” said Grannie soothingly; ‘‘that very ‘ill. faured ; but names break nae Beta bairn ; ;yema ann learn no tae tak’ it sae ill oot.’ “‘He’s a great, coorse boy,” said Uncle Sandy laying ao his paper. ‘But never mind, Nan, you'll be a good-looking girl some day, “Will I?” said Nan eagerly, sitt: ng up and tossing her mane out of her ¢ wish Iw ould, aml Sandy would le in love with me, an LT wouldn't marry him just for spite.’ aml witha malici jous grind of her little whit c te a she Sank into Grannie’s arms. ‘Taere’s no wammin,” said Uncle Sandy slowly ad ln pressive ely, * ‘no Wuminin ever remaivs single that has had the chance of bein’ marrit.” “[ wouldna just say that, Grannie thoughtfully, s locks ; ‘but it’ maks an odds," Me the maitter!” cried Sandy,” said stroking the offending 8 true enough, bairn, sperin CHAPTER IL It was antumn once more. Once more the felds round une farm lay white unto harvest, and the little river still babbled and chatter- ed as it flowed on its way tothe sea. The old kitchen was restful and quiet as of yore; the fire stilled burned, the kettle sang, and Grannie still knitted—but the knitting was slow and painful now —and the sweet, faded face within the dainty matchcap was sweet- er and more faded than of old. Uncle Sandy, too, hal grown greyer and feebler, and the old dog dozed no longer on the hearth : young and oye puppy had taken its And the irns, what of them ? A es ; was no orl the slight but stately fi in the beautiful oval face wit auburn hair gathered up underthe big sun- bonnet betrayed the Agnes of old. “Where are ye gaun, bairn?” said Gran- nie, glancing with manifest disfavour from the Alloa-stocking Agnes had nay ee down to the yellow-backed novel iu her har b, auy where, Grannie ; 3 just oat, such a lovely day.” e tone was alightly impatient, but the voice was musical and cultured. Agnes had laid aside the dialect of her childhood with other childish things, and having been sent pc Grannie to fini a at a select boarding I, was very finished and sele:t indeed. Somasones Grenada sighed for the original unfinished Agnes, and wondered-what Sand would say to the old companion of his ‘child. ood when he came home from his oe in the wild West. But, after all, she re- flected, fhere wasa good heart at the Notions of all Agnes’s little yanities ; the bairn was 7 a ai a bit wi’ being owre bonny an’ it’s SS, ae pe they trotted ; wards her, a little dak lady who was Phan Tamanna th ca’ed in this morning and said you aunt was expectin’ him e da “6 3, - id Un cle | Sandy, who was surveying her with evident satisfaction ; ; “fyou’ll be getting a hus soon.” ‘Hoots, Sandy,” said Grannie wrathfully, “‘dinna put such havers in her heid; bairn’s dey twenty, she doesna ken ‘in born yet “ Nonsense, Grannie ; Uncle Sandy’s quite res it’s high time I was settled. ‘Naway sec if I can catch the artist,” and she ran lengktieg out at the door. The road to the village wound round. the foot of the hill, beautifully sheltered from the August sun by lovely old trees that leaned from either side-and- lovingly mingléd their branches. Once on the high road, Agnes opened her boo was soon so lost in cpcieerraation of it, that she did not observe a gentleman's figure coming briskly sowaria her, glancing —— ata journal as he walked. den- he became aware of the girl’s a ‘Sach, he Boia up, hesitated a moment, then having assured himself that she had not seen him, and became ‘apparently very much engrosse ed in his reading. A moment later and they came somewhat violently in contact. The gentleman, with an air ef consternation, threw his arm round Agnes, us if to keep her from falling, and sa out an apology. Agnes, genuinely surprised, was for u ino- ment overwhelmed withcontegelan, then recol- lecting herself, she gracefully apologised and stood aside toallow the stranger to pass, But the stranger had no such intention. Sxcuse me,” he said, courteously remov ing his hat, and ignoring her movement of dismissal ; ‘* pray, excuse my very great awkw ardness. Ttrust Ihave not hurt you?” *s Not i in the least,” said Agnes, her colour der the in his look; + plan don't blame yourself too much, the fault was mutual,” and with a gracious bow she walked swiftly away. ‘| wonder if that’s the artist body,” thought ; “how handsome and polite he 1s. But I must finish my book ; Grannie doesn’t approve of it, ane Will be cross it I take it back again.” Sosaying she resumed her read- Ing and fell once more into a tei surely walk, Meanwhile the * artist body” was standing where she had left him, gazing after her re- treating figure “By Jove tu w little beaut too,” he said to himself ; ‘* that’ s Mistress a n's rel-headed niece or utchman ; she'll be going there now to ask for the old lady’s ‘ laags. Well, I'll be there before her; Ican sketch the castle another time,’ "and leaping | over the dry-stone dyke, he took a short cut through the tield beyond, gained the “high road again considerably in front of Agnes, | ; une alked noiekly into the village. "she an af m ingted satisfiue few minutes afterw aris pera we at Aunt Je: in's door, cried ‘Come in.” She ente read and kissed her alle Lions! cly. inquiring asusual, ' How esac ill; iut dae ye no see I've Nanuie’ This is Mr. Atherton atl lus sister, Mises Nellie.” visitors, the artist Nan looked upin surprise ; the stranger cf : the afternoon's adventure rose and came to- seat- ed on the sofa rose also. ‘Tam very glad to mect you, Miss St art, he said impressively, “ How on earth did you get here ¢° was Nen’s mental retort, but she checked it and turned te lis sister ow do you do, Miss Atherton ¥ i trast you will enjoy our BENE ry. ‘Oh, Din sire we shall, and I'm so glad | to mect you, dear Miss Stewart, Arthurand I were so afraid we'd be lonely; but there's no fear of that now. Miss Nellie was very little and very pretty: but if anything too dimpled and byish and gushing LK looked on her brother as a kind ‘od, and followed im wherever his een le le med hie “* Ye'll abide an' mak the a Nan,” said Aunt Jean; ‘‘my laags is no what they ance was, an’ they're a wee troublesome the day. Nan, ne thing leth, made tea, and looked so pretty and graceful dispensing it that Arthur couldn't but think how nice a fellow would feel if he had a girl like that to pour out tea for him every day. And after tea, in the cool twilight, Arthur and Nellie walked home with her, and never, had the road seemed so shady so picturesque and ! pleasant, nor never alas! so short. Then they must come in and rest in the cool, rose- aenton parlour, Grannie must give! « the scones and fresh butter, and mt tumblers of milk and cream. But at fet it was over psig ris were gone, with any and plans for pic hice, &e., he Dag dering "the coming week. ‘* What do you think of them, Grannie *” asked Nan, cagerly. “Tf they'reas guid asthey’ re bonny, they ll dae,” said Grannie, looking doubtfully at Nan’s flushed face; ‘‘but lots o' thae artist bodica is no much worth." **She’s a grand girl, yon,” said Uncle San- dy ; "he's fine. looking too, but he would be the better oa good ini rd.’ ew- CHAPTER II1. The da ays that followed flew by as if on wings. The three became fast friends, and went everywhere together: there was ao sketching, ora botanising, or a hill-climb- ing expedition every ‘day, or ponetmnee all three combined. Grannie looked with rather = feslons eye on all this pleasuring, | but she was too wise to interfere. She had | once ventured to remonstrate with Arthur, because every sketch he took had Nan in some conspicuous position in the foreground. , “What's the use o’ spvilin a’'the scenery wi’ stickin’ her in; is ae pictur’o' herno enough?” , she had asked. And Arthur bad answered, with wn eloquent glance at Nan, '‘The finest scene that ever was painted would be hon- oured in seme a hackground to «ch a fig- ure.” And thenceforth Grannic discreetly held her peace. The autumn was drawing toaclose, and still the artist and his sister ba on, seeming every day to find new beauties and new attractions in the village. Aunt Jean was greatly delighted with her lodgers. “He's a grand lad,” she Was wont to say ; ae sl ep like a’ callants, but a fine laddie a’ that.” And eoGrannie waited on, dreading every day that her worst fears ‘ would be rea’ and something definite ; would be said, and longing for her laddie ‘ from over the sea. At last he came. It, [spam ce had gone awa bramble-gath- } gone away b ga rannie was alone in babi iitchen doxig by Pg fe Nae ‘and Before pg eal thoro jorm-crossed the is arms. “Geannie y? > cae” my ‘bairn, Im’ prood tae see eve wh munist awfn’— held hun at arm's rere ooking weel,” she said as she at Tonge gave up her examination 3 “but why did ye no let us ken ye were comin’ ‘Did my father not get my telegram * ” he asked in hme ahaa ; ‘it should have ar has. He’s been at the ea’ ‘ae map he'll be bringin’ it hame in his is teach, thinkin’ he’s gein’s great news,” and Grannie chuckled. ‘ But sit doon, lad- die, sit doon ; I maun mak haste an’ get the tea.” The ‘Deanible: -guthering was a b great suc- cess, and it was late in the evening before Agnes entered the kitchen with a great pitcherful of berries. Her ey acasel onan unwonted scene. Grannie mt: Uncle Sandy were listening with rapt attention strange an who, sitting coatless and shoe- less, was discoursing to them of men and things in the Far West. For a mo:nent she sand astonished, then down weut pitcher and brambles and rolled hither and thither upon the floor, as she rushed towards him exclaiming, in her way, Sandy,’ ” is it poss Sandy, amity up shoeless and con lew before the fine young lady, was even more astonished and much Jess at case than she. brambles afforded a tine moment they were down on their knees gathering them up, laughing and scolding each other as of yor Each time Sandy’ 8 sche n band came in ¢ woniuet with her slender white one a strange thrill went thre ngh him, and he longed to clasp it in his own as in the old childish days, and to kiss the he mny red mouth that pouted so temptingly towards him. But, alas! all thi ngs must end, and the brief delight ful chase after the brambles was soon over. hen y himself a fool for enjoying calle to mind what his mnie had told him about the ‘ artist mg ev onget his his © yes to Test on rer dainty figure 4 tranble i w vondlered what r perplexity gi tion, and whi ile Sander he ' society, her pel low Wen thbniet tet ind the excursion while Sandy, ios Da) his father au ‘ existence, nad when lef i fall inte gloomy abstracted Gs looking om, Was Woe durst Lot interfere. Tt was the last nigat, with adieavy Scotch mist fall: ne n Dee family at the fara sat close round the fire Nan and her Graunie Lovteiue: Mr. Stewart and Sandy smoking. “Dthink Fl yo up and ask for Aunt Jean Grannie; T havent heen out all day, and feel as if I'd like a walk.’ “Edaursa ye haena, bairn,” said Grannie, rousing herself, ‘What's come owre the Athertons that there’s been nane of them ere the day “They're eany said Nan, bending very close over her work; ‘‘they went last night.” y started, and Grannie laid down her knitting and raised Jer hands in surprise. ‘Dear, dear,” she exclaimed, ‘‘suirly that was very eudden.’ “Rather,” said Nan. “They said good-bye to me and left at dnanner of kind messages anil apologies for rest of you, ad risen now and was st: andi ing with her back to them fastening | her clog P j haps it was that that mace her voice sound , #0 indistinct, or perhaps Girannie was right (in supposing that they had nut parted the | Lest of friends, for Arthur had spoken and ee had said him nay. But she only said, Weel, weel, tak that pickle jeel tae your auntie and haste ye hame again. Sandy took no notice of her departure nor of anything that had taken place, but presently he rose, and silently ta king his cap from the nail, slipped cut into the night. Grannie smiled a sly httle smile aud quietly took up ber work ngain. The night was “dark and dismal, and Agnes, shivering as she gathered her mantle round her, glanced nervously from side to side, and wished she had stayed at home, Presently # quick tread broke the silence ; for a moment she paused, startled, then re- cogniiog the step, she walked on again with owing cheeks and beating heart. In a moment Sandy was alon ssidle, “Did I startle you *” he asked ; and his voice sounded strangely gentle. ‘ Yes— no,” she stammered ; ;” just fore minute, I knew your step.” For a little way they walked in silence, then Sandy slipped his arm through hers and drew her chose to his side. ‘'Darling, I ‘love you,” he whispered, his strong voice trembling with oe For a moment there was no reply, then ‘the little figure nestled closer to his side, the xuburn head drooped on his shoulder, and the little red mouth that had so often ‘tantalized him was raised to his in silent eu hit find ple tsant to of October: a ad ill cold tbat eon answer, xairns are awfu” long,’ said Grannie, rising ‘to hap their parritch ; “suirly they'll xe SOON NGO Even as she spoke the door opened and Agnes entered with a tell-tale glow on her face, while Sandy, looking = but very happy, came edging in behind 1 So that’s the way o't,’ erie’ | —_— iu great glee. ‘‘So ye've taen him after a’, , Nannie? Did I no tell ye, bairn, speirin’ maks an odds ‘ oa » me ackets of two shades of cloth are consid- very distinguished in appearance. ! ieee of mummy cloth for 5 o'clock tea! saa an tables are embroidcred in pictures at the was a bright day towards the end of Octo- four corners with quaint pastoral scenes. 1 ‘floor REL gery Bloodgood —««Well, how did your bet with Miss Sosting come out?” ” Trax. a Tt-re- how could that, sere Travis—‘“‘A alk tie tie ior me, don’tcher know.” Papa (who used a bad word when he tore his es Whe ow myself then, a wrong of me to say such a “Oh you needn’ t apologize, “oe myself.” ‘ a ' : t i € ~~ hanging his cap up om the pri ed ” gaic eins scope - now do you a where to put your ¢ “I know were I wish T had put it.” "anew erered the hopeful, as he hart bed himae olf, "riend==""T suppose you aver the death o} your husband?’ Mrs, Snooke—“‘ Indeed I a0. If I had utilized before he died the tears I've 8 since he died I'd have had half a dozen more dresses than I’ve got now. ieve very much Life Insurance. There are many features in which the pre- sent age is peculiar. Not the least among its distinctive characteristic’ is the large business that is done in life insurance ere in Can- ada, the business which is nc t fifty years old, (though: life insnrance dates farther back in the ola couutry) has, among the old line companies alone, reached the enormous amount of nearly $225,600,000. In addition to this there is the insurance business of the mutual benctit societies, in which it is esti- mated at least sixty thousand persons are insured, who carry no less than £90,000,000 of insurance. Of this amount the greater part has ben placed within the last few years, oe} ast year marking the period of greatest grwth. It is reckoned that last year the Scccttien did a Canadian business of from $15,040 :000 to $20,000,000, an amount of new business nearly equal to that date of the regular insurance companies. ‘hese figures are significant, and, tes doubt, eee ie the large amount- $1,709 —of es in the old line companies ; nes wiv ree op the old for the cheaper insurance of the socictics. This fact seems to have been overlooked by somne who argue that because there has been such an unusnal defection froin the ranks of the regular companies, therefore the coun- try is surelz going toruin. There may be facts to this position, (though the pessimists have not yet succeeded in making their case very clear), but certainly such an argument is not found in the circum- stance that $1,700,009 worth of insurance has been allowed to lapse, when nearly $40, 000,000 worth of new insurance of all kinds has been pliced during the year. Considered in itself the fact that these mutual benefit societies are doing nearly one half of the in- of the Dominion renders it peaagl te that they be placed in osuch an arrangemen t ono Wert object, while At would ruil to increase the coutidence of ¢ placed their trust in) the hrotherhoods did t} hey but puble official made a resular ous of thelooks of the society. Let the societies concerned consider this. oe Farming in the United States. To the man whe realizes his just relation w his fellowman it gives no pleasure to con- tempk.te the misfortunes und want of pros- perity which othersexpericnce, Sometimes, lLowever, it proves a profitable exereise, tending to remove any feel ing of discontent or dissatisfaction with one’s lot. For this reason it would be well for the farmers of Canada to consider the report just handed in by the United States census enumerators. Though strict regard for truth compels the admission that the condition of the meinen farmer is not all that could be desired, ther issome gratification in the thought that it is is 7 tter by many degrees than that of the average American husbandinan. Look at the eso facts and figures K. Holmes, win is in charge of this trea of the census work, thinks the returns will show about 7,000, 000 snert ness made since 1880. The number alread ported when ee correspondent wrote was about 6, Summaries for three counties in Tilineds, where real estate, Mr. ,isheavily loaded with mortgages, are given as ‘illustrating a tendency observed guite generally in the western States. In damberland county only three mortgages were puton record in 1880. In 1885 this rhad grown to 179, and in 1887 to “The year following 216 more were add- ed, ‘and last year 217, making a total of 1,155 in ten years, 976 of which were created in the »=st four come Ta the meantime only seven mnortgages were canceled, one in 188], two in 1882, =a Eee in 1S83. In Vermil- ion county 754 were recorded in 1880, and on nutuber hus exceeded 1,000 every year ce, the maximimn being 1,489 in 1889, aid the total for the decade 11,252. D the tirst four years of the decade 2 mortgages in that county were canceled, while 4,096 new ones or renewals were made. Since 1883 the record does not show that any have been canceled. In Kane county 633 mortyages were plaved on record in 1880, a°°.965 in 1851, and in the succeeding years | the Fomber bas sivaye exceeded 1,000 “is same years new ones were but none ph reported as cancel 1883.” In the light of this ani agro ut the Canadian farmer, while striving to ter his position by applyin g to his work ail the knowledge which m agricultural ecience has Sacked, be thankful that he since “Tho Peasibilities of Agricaltare.” The man of fearful in Smee er oe the earth, is begun to be « soalve for the futare lest there yay not be susten- ance found for all, will find reason for assur- ance in the fac ts. produce which affects much of the cacttars works on economics, undertakes to give some idea of wees the Soil i is capable of peep under t ons which science and art CaN Impose upon it. The fac sr ad- ducéd are certainly remarkable, and will come as a rey aay dive edo 1 if indeed they will n tillers of the soi} "They effectually dispore of the familiar and almost universal c “farming doesn’t ae = d tlf@t- there is soun osophy in the old- rhyme which ge the little farm well t -” Prince potkin is no advocate On the cont of extensive farming. in by feeding the toil wi ma Prince Kropotkin cites “the district of Saffelare ina part of East Flanders which Nature has endowed with an unproductive = easily cultivated sandy soil. The ter- ory of 37,000 ucres has to notrish 30,060 fnhabitante all living by agriculture ; ‘and yet these peasants not only grow their own food, but they also a agricultural pro- duce, and pay rents to the amount of from fifteen to twenty-five dollars per acre. By means of satel: crops * (second crops in the latter part of summer) they succeed in tak- ing three and four crops every two years rom the same land ; and their regular crops are four, five and six times-as large as these of the fertile lands ef Georgia, Texas and Illinois. Moreover they keep in the same small area—two thirds of which is under cereals, flax and potatoes—no less than 10,- 720 horned cattle, 3,800 sheep, 1S15 horses, and 6,550 swine. A population which is denser than that of England proper inclus- ive ofits citics, is thus no curse at all. It is easily fed—and could be fed much better were it not for the ever increasing rents— — an unproductive soil simply improv- n ceicent manuring € power of irrigation to increase the productivity, of the | soil is also strikingly illustrated. Thus, ‘‘on the irrigated mea- dows of the Vosges, the Vaucluse, ete., even upon an ungrateful soil, six tons of hay the acre become the rule, and that alittle more than the annual feed ¢ cow. By means of irrigation a meney re- turn of from $120 to £280 is obtained froin a soil which formerly ‘Would not yieid mere than from $16 to S48 worth of poor hay. Below Paris in the eartixe ated ticlds of the Genevilliers plain, each acre is capable of yielding double thee cro of the very best tin- irrigated Jands, And below Milan, the nearly 2 22,000 acres irrigated with water de- rived from the sewers of the city are yield- ing crops of from 8 to 10 tons ” hay as a rule, while cccasiona ly some separa meadows will yield mer fabulous funount a 18 tons of hay per acre.” From the ficld, of the farmer the Prince leads us to the green- house of the market gardener, and shows us what modern improvements have effected here, Dy the aid of svil-making, hot water pipes in the soil, and culture under glass at a certain period of the life of the plant the mest astonishing results have been see: ured. Speaking of the “sland of Guernsey where reen-house gardening extensively obtains, Prince Kropotkin says ‘* I saw three fourths acre, covered with glass and heated for three months in the spring, are about eight tons of tomatces arn hun- dred pounds of beans us a first crop in April and May, to be followed by two stops more during the summer and autumn. potatoes dug from the soil in April to ‘the amount of five bushels to the twenty-one cet square,and goon. He tell us that from one vinery of thirteen acres there were pro duced last year : of grapes (which are cut from the first of May till Octoher,) 80 tons cf tomatoes, 30 tons of potatoes, 6 tons of peas, and 2 tons of beans (the last three in April), to say nothing of other sub- sidiarycrops,” Such facts as these ca’ their own lessons, Surely any misgiving as to the ability of the carth to supply the wants o inhabitants may dismissed as not vitally concerning the present- generation. Nor is ques- tion likely to beco.ne practical for at least e next two hundred years, On the other hand one can hardly reflect upon what has heen accomplished in these isolat- ed cases withont feeling impressed with the — distance that is to be covered by the re farmer, with his frontier and ante- fants poe before he will have reached this elevated position. as hopeless, however, seeing that many farmers are beginnin n the ao advocated by this eminent economis' A Naval Officer's Opinion. A recently ae opinion by Lord Charles Beresford who is to beone of the — ar ti of English: naval officers e view of Chan. VonCaprivi that the i island of Heligoland is an Lear acquisition for Germany. Says th man :-—“From the moment that Germany aspired tobe a maritime power the neces- sity was im n_her of maintaining two fleets, one in the "North cea and one im the Baltic. In case of war these two fleets is not called upon to bear the pore which | afflict his fellow toiler to the sout > Apropos of the great strikeon the New York Central railway, it may be well to pre- sent the Encyclopedia Brittanica’s estimate of how the railroads of various countries are manned : Rapes railways continue to do their work with a very small nuinber of men. In 1880, 86,781 miles of railway were worked with a force of 418,957 men, or 4.7_ er 2 against 367,793 ia the United’ 18,681 miles, or 19.7 per mile, in Germany, or 14.3 el mile. The greater thinness of traffic on American lines accounts for some part of this, rscd the! number of train miles per year men em- pore; in different countries is 929 in Can- d the United States, 350 in Great Brit- ian, 476 in Germany and 495 in Austria- Hungary.” the two German ests could be prev ,or at least. rendered precarious, oe ; emy’s _ stationed near the ‘lena. an The n of the fortification of Heligoland be Gur Germiiciy rendered it impossible for an ‘ enemy to prev ent ei ase The acqui- sition of the island, refore, means Germany that the value ay her navy in these eventualities which are most probable is something like doubled.” This like a good ' many other opinions coines too late to be of ' ‘any ractical use. That it would have al the results of the eae ae it come sooner is highly inpro oO bike sary to make it of great importance in ‘ine war. looking ——