gripped with the belief that it was the other fellow who was distant, unfriendly, suspicious, and critical, until I actually came to believe that the allotted portion of warm human friendship, happiness, and satisfaction was never meant for me. I had some few friends of course, but the rank and file of humanity with whom I came in contact passed me by. I consoled myself with the idea that they did not "understand" me. My inner feelings, hopes, ambitions, my highest aspirations, even my fe Of seemed unique to me. course this is the pet delusion of youth, but I f tered my "difference" until it became a habit. I set myself farther and farther apart by drawing back into a shell of reticence. My New England ancestry manifested itself in an evergrowing repression. The world gave me a good living but turned me a cold shoulder. I was good looking but unattractive. I grew more and more introspective. I analyzed my own feelings minutely after each little hurt. I never allowed a wound to heal without first having probed it to the bottom. I was secretly proud of my "sensitiveness"nothing "thick-skinned" about me. I longed with all my heart for warmth, and offered in exchange cold repression.

My marriage, coming as it did at this time, is still a marvel to me. If I had only allowed it to be, it might have proved itself a real antidote to my mental attitude toward life, but it didn't "take." The thing grew insidiously from sensitiveness into morbidity, from selfishness into envy. Finally, I was forced to admit that even my husband didn't understand me. I was just "different." There was never any open break, only an undercurrent of inharmony, an incessant procession of little hurts. I was continually pulling at right angles to the whole current of life.

And then

I was sitting alone one afternoon in one of the booths of our little ice-cream parlor when I heard my name mentioned directly behind me. I deliberately listened. I heard the same thing which eavesdroppers usually hear of themselves. Fortunately, though it was not good of me, it was good for me.

"Yes, she'd be an addition to the club, but . . ."

Long pause here. My ears fairly strained themselves to catch the next. "... so cold and distant. I just can't seem to get acquainted. If she'd only warm up just once, and give us half a chance to like her."

She went on, but I didn't hear the rest. My first impulse was to dig down farther and farther into the sand of my own reticence and hide my hurt. I stopped just a moment. That instant's pause was the "to-be-or-not-to-be" in my life. In the next few minutes, for the first time in my life, I raised my head and looked at myself, rather than within myself. What I saw was not flattering. I did some rapid and in

tensive thinking. I faced several dis agreeable facts about myself. I went out with the grim determination to force myself out of my own repression. I began the warming-up process by the simple act of compelling myself, if necessary, to really smile. My first attempts were met with ill-concealed surprise. But persistence worked wonders. Instead of diffidently avoiding people I forced myself to take the initiative. I made myself inquire solicitously about our illiterate old huckster's boy when I really didn't care in the least. Gradually I found it less difficult to affect the solicitude. It became genuine. I began to find people warming up to me. It was a long, laborious process, often painfully so. My husband slowly came to "understand" me. That was several years ago. My whole world has been changing ever since. That insatiable craving for inner warmth has lost its edge. I get infinitely more fun out of living.

Last week a friend said to me, "Wish you'd take the visiting committee. We have a long list of shut-ins, and you have such a way-" Audibly I said, "Surely, glad to do it," and, inaudibly, just, "Thank you, God."

THIRD PRIZE

I cannot forecast results; your health might improve, or you might go out, but it would go one way or the other with you quickly." I replied, "I take the chance." His office door closed, and I stood at the parting of the ways-at the "turning point." The highway leading to the university, as it turned out, was then and there forever closed to me; my face was toward Virginia. I must take my brother's place. How? A conundrum.

I interviewed the lieutenants who had been elected in the company, and who I had known in the academy. They skeptically consented to say nothing and make no objections if no one else did. I ransacked father's writing-desk (in his absence) and found his signature; studied it, copied it sufficiently; drew up a written consent for me to enlist, signed his name to it, and put it in my pocket-not for use against him, but to ward off any outside interference.

When the time came, and brother was ordered to report to the village, fifteen miles away, to start for the front, father (as I expected) directed me to harness the horse and drive him to the station. I witnessed part of the pathetic parting scene between father, mother, brother, and sister, and drove away. For me "fair sailing" so far, but I well knew that I was facing the acid test of my persuasive ability when brother met

BY VOLUNTEER

IX Hundred Words? Will try

SIN

Born on a hillside farm in New England, November, 1844; two miles from village and fifteen from railway. Early years doing chores on the farm, and attended district school.

1861! Environment: An aged father and mother, a brother four years my senior, a sister eighteen months my junior. A large farm, with a larger mortgage covering it. Brother, a splendid farmer and the mainstay of our father. For farm service I was properly considered a "no account;" tall, slender, frail, hollow-chested, after surviving two attacks of what was then called "lung fever." A student in the academy at the village two miles away; carried my provisions from home, roomed with a friend, swept and dusted the school-rooms and rang the academy bell in payment for tuition; my mind keenly set upon a classical course at the State University, fifteen miles away. In the fall of 1862 came the crash! My brother enlisted; father and mother in tears, fearing the battlefield and the mortgage. My last analysis of the situation showed me it was "up to me" to take my brother's place in the ranks. I knew this was only possible if it was kept a perfect secret from the family; went to the family physician, pledged him to secrecy, and asked him to make an examination of my lungs and give me his opinion of the effect of the army life upon me. His report was: "No organic trouble, but lungs very weak;

company slept that night on the floor in the ballroom. of the village hotel. I bunked with brother, slept little, awoke before daylight (and before he did); put on his uniform and waited for him to awaken and dress. When this point was reached, the battle was on. When he came to learn my scheme, the language of his protests would not look well in print. I urged the conditions at home to the best of my ability, and tried to talk faster than he could. I think his surprise and the fact that I had on the "goods" (his uniform) weakened his defense. While the battle still raged the "Fall in" call sounded from the street, and I rushed from the hall, formed in the rear rank, and when brother's name was called I yelled, "Here," and continued thus to yell during his period of enlistment.

The first six months in the army I gained forty pounds in weight; was not off duty one day of my service. The open-air life and military training straightened and strengthened my body; my lungs expanded my chest and produced a fair specimen of young manhood.

Result: A well man, now well past threescore and ten years. Conscious of having done "my bit" in the ranks in that great struggle, of having faced the onrushing hosts of Pickett's charge at Gettysburg in the ranks of Stannard's Vermont Brigade, and finally to experience a firm establishment of my physical manhood. You ask, "Do you regret the turn which you made?" My only answer can be, "No," and again, "No,"

P

EOPLE at a distance from Chicago are not apt to think of that great city of three million inhabitants with its vast pulsating business center as enjoying the luxury of natural surroundings-woodlands and forest streams at its very door. Such, however, is the case. Eighteen thousand acres of forest preserve contiguous to the city of Chicago are the property of the people of Cook County, and this area will be increased to forty thousand acres in the near future.

The plan by which the Forest Preserve Commissioners are working will preserve for the city five large outlying parks. The tracts which will form these preserves all lie within the western half of a circle, the eastern half of which would be covered by Lake Michigan. With the intended lake-front development, they will leave no quarter of the city far from open space and access to the beauty of nature. Even when the city has grown to envelop these several preserves they will still guarantee it in perpetuity a rich domain for normal acquaintance and contact with woods and streams and the life that inhabits them. The purpose is to keep them for the most part in a state of actual wilderness, concentrating the necessary buildings, ball grounds, playground appli

PRESERVES

BY ROBERT H. MOULTON

ances, and other artificial improvements in limited areas set apart for such things. Reforestation as well as preservation will be considered. With this in view, one nursery with 250,000 seedling trees has already been established on the Desplaines River.

In working out the Plan of Chicago, a vast scheme of civic improvement which was started about fifteen years ago and which eventually will involve an outlay of approximately a quarter of a billion dollars, cognizance was taken of the fact that, next to convenience and orderliness in street arrangements, the most essential thing in a great city is a sufficient park area. It was also realized that modern cities must not confine their parkland projects to their own limits, but must go beyond them and out into the open country to provide recreation areas for their people. Every European capital has its forest parks outside of its limits, but within easy reach of its people. In this country other cities are acquiring outer territory for park purposes, and the people of Chicago are proud that their city has been one of the most progressive in America in the matter of forest preserves. There is no more beautiful country anywhere than the wooded territory around Chicago.

The 18,000 acres of forest preserve in Cook County were acquired at a cost of more than $7,000,000 within recent years, and form a perfect chain of woodland about the city of Chicago. It is predicted that some day they will form a world marvel of a public recreation place as well as an economic life belt for the community. In connection with the development of the forest preserve system there is also going forward the construction of a system of concrete highways which have become known as "county boulevards" to connect up the various preserves.

For the camper and the seeker of health and for rest and recreation Chicago's forest preserves present unrivaled opportunities for outdoor life and enjoyment. During the last two years it has not been unusual for 100,000 persons to visit the preserves on holidays. Roads and trails, many of which were opened generations ago by the Indians, run in every conceivable direction in all the tracts. Traced and marked by signs erected by the district's forest rangers, these trails make the forests as accessible to-day as they were to the Indians.

In each preserve there are innumerable secluded spots along the banks of streams and at the edge of lakes where

camps may be pitched, a privilege free to all, the only requirement being that campers notify the caretakers of their plans and that they observe the rules which are similar to those in force in our National parks. Topographical maps of the forests enable visitors to select just the type of forest they are seeking. At the same time a complete index to animal life and wild-flower growth is available. By a simple reference one can establish the exact character of each one of the more than 18,000 acres at present constituting the forest preserves. In the same way the course of streams and the location of lakes, both of which abound in the district, is made clear.

A specimen of the existing Chicago preserves is found in 1,200 acres of hilly woodland in the so-called Deer Grove tract, twenty-six miles northwest of Chicago. Here are native groves of shagbark hickory which are said to be unsurpassed in the United States, old Indian trails still following their immemorial courses, a small herd of deer roaming over 850 acres, a flock of five hundred sheep, running streams and lakes of clear water in which fishermen find their zeal rewarded and to which the blue heron and bittern resort. Wild ducks come in abundance. Quail and pheasants are a common sight. Song birds abound. The variety of shrubs and wild flowers is extraordinary. For the special accommodation of poor children there is an admirable camp equipment at one end of the preserve. There are bunk houses, a cook house and a dining-room, an ice house, an athletic field, and boating facilities adequate for the demands of four or five hundred

boys and girls. There is also an emergency hospital.

Among the plans for the future are an arboretum, designed to be the greatest in the world and which will include every species of tree and shrub that can be grown in the latitude, and a zoological garden which will be unique among similar institutions of the world. The latter feature has been made possible through the gift of a 300-acre site by Mrs. Edith Rockefeller McCormick. The zoo, as planned, will give the impression of all sorts of wild animals roaming at

will in their natural surroundings, for cages, bars, and chains will be replaced by more modern methods of restraint, or will be so cleverly camouflaged that the animals will seem unhindered. The zoo itself will be divided into five sections, with a ridge skirting all the exhibits, so that a panoramic view of every animal is offered to the spectators as they enter the garden. The five divisions will be tiered, with the last one, holding mountain lions, mountain goats, and similar animals, towering mountainlike as a background.

E

THE TARIFF

VER since the formation of this Republic Congress has been experimenting with the tariff, and we are little nearer a correct solution of the matter now than at any time in our history. It seems almost an absurdity that a country like ours should after a hundred and thirty-odd years of National existence be without a fixed policy with respect to taxation of its imports. The reason for this is to be found in the fact that tariff issues have become SO thoroughly mixed with politics that they are incapable of being unscrambled. It is almost a foregone conclusion that when one meets a Republican one finds a more or less ardent protectionist-a protectionist not of necessity because he believes in protection, but because the Republican party stands for protection and that is enough. Much the same may be said

of the average Democrat. Democratic free-trade principles are to him as his religion. But touch the pocketbook of either good and hard with tariff legislation which interferes with his personal business, even though it conforms with the principles for which he stands, and see how quickly he will wake up. He will go to almost any length in order to protect himself against legislation inimical to his business interests. But, having succeeded, or having failed, it matters little, he will be found right back where he was before-stanchly advocating the tenets of his political faith. A conspicuous example may be cited in the following:

The writer happened to be in New Orleans during and after the first election of Mr. Wilson in 1912. Of course the Crescent City and the country thereabouts rooted and voted solidly in the

way it had always rooted and voted, and their candidate was elected. He won on a platform, among other things, of an immediate downward revision of the tariff, and everybody knew it. Everybody knew, too, that a lowered tariff on sugar, one of Louisiana's chief products, would open the doors of our markets to Cuba and other West Indian islands, where sugar could be produced cheaper than we could make it. In the enthusiasm of the political campaign this fact seemed lost sight of. Louisiana was Democratic, and must remain steadfast to its principles though the heavens fall-and they did. But it was almost amusing to see the altered feeling which prevailed in that section with the passage of the Underwood Tariff Act, which became a law within the minimum of time after the new Administration went into office in the follow

ing spring. The bars were let down to Cuban sugar, and gloom prevailed till the Louisiana lobby at Washington succeeded in having some of the sting taken out of the Tariff Bill, which enabled the sugar planters to live. But did this alter the political complexion of the State or a belief in the tariff principles for which the Democratic party stands? Look at the returns for 1916.

We know in advance to a certainty that a change in Federal Administration will mean a new tariff, and, almost automatically, the two parties line up for or against tariff measures according to historic beliefs. The manifest absurdity of the thing lies in the fact that the tariff is a business and not a political proposition-that tariffs should be raised or lowered as business conditions demand, rather than because there is a different Administration in power. Time was when the ranks of the Republican party contained a majority of those whose personal interests lay in protection, but the business of production and manufacture is now so evenly distributed among the adherents of both factions that party lines, so far as the tariff is concerned, no longer cut much of a figure.

The tariff has always been a political issue in this country, as one readily sees from reading our history. During almost every Democratic Administration there has been a low tariff, and a high tariff when Republicans, or their predecessor Whigs, were in control. One may search in vain, however, for evidence that business conditions differed, back and forth, so sharply as to make tariff revisions necessary at the time of the change in Administration.

In view of the peculiar situation in which the United States finds itself today with respect to both its domestic and international relations that have come about as a result of the war, there is a large and increasing number of business men of both political faiths who, if they were to express an honest opinion, would say that the best interests of this country lie in reduced rather than in advanced tariffs. These same men, however, know that an upward revision is due from this Administration and that nothing short of a popular uprising-something like that which shortened the life of the "Tariff of Abominations" in 1828-can stop it. Notwithstanding this belief, inwardly held although not publicly expressed, all sorts and conditions of men, Democrats and Republicans, from East, South, North, and West, are in Washington, each with his little high-tariff or low-tariff ax to grind. Camouflage argument as much as they please with economic theory, with proof conclusive that a high tariff is the only kind of legislation which will save the country from going to the well-populated "bowwows," or that low tariff will do the same thing, the basis of their plea is self-interest. It is an age-old controersy. Stripped of all question of ad

vantage or disadvantage which might accrue to this or that community, group, or class of business by reason of high or low tariff, the economic question involved is, Will the country prosper the most by the protection of home industry to the exclusion of materials and manufactures of other lands, or will it not? The question is as broad as the ocean and has many ramifications.

True to its traditional principles, the Republican Administration has written its Fordney tariff of the House, which is now in the hands of the Senate Finance Committee, where it is likely to undergo many revisions, for it is far from being a popular measure. In principle it forgets that in the eight years since the writing of the Underwood tariff world conditions have completely changed. It does not take into account that if we are to sell to Europe we must also buy, nor of the fact that if Europe is ever going to pay the money it owes the United States it must pay in goods. The Fordney Bill is not popular with the party responsible for its being even with its high protective provisions, and many manufacturers are asking that the Fordney tariff schedules be doubled.

Protectionists have often quoted a saying attributed to President Lincoln. When asked to express his views on the tariff, Mr. Lincoln is reported to have said: "I do not know much about the tariff, but I do know this much: when we buy goods abroad, we get the goods and the foreigner gets the money; when we buy goods made at home, we get both the goods and the money." This argument seems to have sunk deeply into the American mind. Taussig, one of the foremost tariff authorities of the country, contends that Mr. Lincoln, being a man of superior intellect, never could have made a statement so faulty in economic argument. The error of the alleged quotation is that foreign goods are paid for in money, when every one knows, or should know, that it is goods exported which pay for goods imported, and that, except in a most limited way, money never changes hands. It is the application of the mistaken principle contained in Mr. Lincoln's alleged quotation that has misled so many people into thinking that by throttling imports through high tariffs "money" is kept at home and home industries and home markets made to prosper.

There are a great many people who think that the present is no time to tinker with the tariff; that it would be far the wiser plan to wait till we and the rest of the world have settled down to a more nearly normal basis, when the needs of ourselves and other nations could better be understood. There are a great many people who think that if the tariff is to be changed at all the best interests of the country will be served by a tariff which will permit of a reasonable competition from abroad. They are not alarmed by the cry of the protectionist that American factories and American workmen will be idle and that calamity will ensue if the bars are

let down to the foreigner. They know that it is self-interest which prompts such views, and decline to be frightened.

It is true that we are more nearly economically independent than any other world Power, and the greatest market for our products is in our own country. "Still, true as this is," says Mr. John McHugh, of the Mechanics and Metals Bank of New York, "we cannot now, if we would, withdraw our interests from other countries, except at terrible cost to ourselves, and at more than terrible cost to them."

Nobody wants to see free trade in the United States. The idea is almost unthinkable. No country has an absolute free trade, and the tendency in all European countries is now towards higher protection. Even England, which has always been held up by free-traders as a conspicuous example of their theory, never was without import duties in a moderate form, which even she is now revising in an upward direction. But the position of England and other European countries differs sharply from that of the United States. The same conditions which make for an upward movement in their tariffs make for a downward movement in ours at this particular time, when our country is under so heavy a moral obligation to our neighbors across the sea and they under so heavy a money obligation to us.

There is now a Tariff Board in Washington composed of two Democrats, one Progressive, and three Republicans. It is said to be non-partisan, but it might be as partisan as you please and it would make but little difference, as it has no power-it cannot even recommend legislation. Its duties are merely to collect data for use by the Congressional committees having tariff legislation in charge. It is claimed by many that this is a useless commission, in that it has no sources for obtaining information not open to the Ways and Means Committee of the House and the Finance Committee of the Senate. In the past there have been other tariff boards and commissions, also without power, and they have passed into the discard-a fate which will sooner or later overtake the present Board unless the recommendation of the President that it be clothed with a measure of administrative power be complied with.

The people who go to Washington and appear before the Congressional committees are people with axes to grind. Were this not so, they wouldn't be there. The people with no axes to grind, and whose only interest in high tariffs or low tariffs is that prompted by the general weal, do not go. There isn't the incentive for their going. The seekers for special favors at the hands of Congress know as well as another what is right, but if what is right interferes with their pocketbooks they will range themselves solidly for its protection and are capable of advancing all kinds of arguments to bolster up their contentions.

Since it appears to be impossible to keep politics out of the tariff as matters