T

HE newspapers and other monitors of the public conscience, are finding pleasant occupation in holding up to view the late Mr. Marshall Field, of Chicago, as a good example of many praiseworthy qualities and of honorable business success.

He was a good example also of something else a something else really significant, and at the present moment deserving of particular consideration. The career of Mr. Field is being exploited by the organs of capitalism as a triumphant demonstration that a "right smart" poor boy by enterprise, honesty and attention to business may amass an enormous fortune without drawing it from any other source than that wealth which he himself by his productive activity contributes to mankind. As usual, the organs of capitalism in their overconscientious desire to walk in the narrow path of truth have inadvertently stumbled into error. The career of the estimable Mr. Field was a convincing demonstration that no man on earth can possibly amass in his own lifetime as much as $100,000,000 without freely tapping the reservoirs of that wealth which is created by the brain-sweat and the muscle-tension of mankind, rather than by his own individual productivity.

This correction of the record I beg to submit is important, so let us look at the facts.

And first, the contention of capitalistic apologetics. “Here is a man,” says one of our bravest organs, "the largest taxpayer in America, whose estate is variously estimated at $100,000,000 up, that owned no franchises, was aided by no invention, sought no especial privileges, attempted to establish no monopoly, was protected by no tariff, and, wonderful to relate, was no tax-dodger." The last item in this statement I understand is strictly true, and it shall be counted to Mr. Field's everlasting credit. Some other items in the list are not strictly true.

Mr. Field was aided by one of the biggest inventions ever made. In fact, it was the foundation of his fortune. I refer, of course, to the invention of the department store, and it happens that it was not made by Mr. Marshall Field nor even by one of his salaried employees, who could have turned it over to him in exchange for a reward of merit, as many clever inventors, employed by millionaires and corporations, turn over their ideas to appreciative masters. This particular contrivance was invented in France, and was carried to its highest practical exploitation in

the famous Bon Marche of Paris. There didn't happen to be any tariff on the idea, so Mr. Field imported it.

Having started out with this excellent nest egg Mr. Field did, contrary to the assertion of our apologist, proceed to profit mightily by our American tariff. On almost everything that he imported, subsequently to the original invoice of idea, he, like other honest merchants, paid heavy duties, and like other honest merchants he thereupon charged prices for his goods which included a pretty percentage of profit upon the duties paid, as well as upon the original purchase cost.

Now let us turn to certain incidents in Mr. Field's career, about which the apologist has failed to enlighten us, but which have been fully set forth in the news columns of the public prints.

Mr. Field made a great deal of money out of his department store, but not a fortune of $100,000,000 or more. Many years ago his sagacious mind began to reflect upon that item of wealth which the political economist calls "unearned increment." It so happens that the really desirable parts of the earth's surface are limited in area, and as population grows the demand for them increases. The narrow island of Manhattan, for example, is advantageously situated for commercial purposes, and a large number of human beings may be observed here carrying on various industries and trades. Little strips of land on the main thoroughfares have in consequence become so valuable that they are now sold not by the acre or even by the rood, but at so much a front foot, in certain instances even at so much an inch. The men that own these parcels of land do not themselves, as individuals, create its value, they only take it. Quite honestly, to be sure, they take it because the community, which collectively creates it, in its wisdom permits any smart man with a taste for speculation to appropriate it.

To the alert mind of Mr. Marshall Field unearned increment, growing like a banyan tree on Manhattan Island, appealed as a source of private revenue not to be despised. Ten or twelve years ago he began picking up a few good things on Fifth avenue. Little by little he acquired adjoining parcels, until he controlled a frontage of 164 feet on Thirtieth street and 254 on Thirty-first street. This property, it is understood, he leased to Benjamin Altman for ninety-nine years. In like manner, and on a yet larger scale he bought

ployed by the city, and pensions those who have reached sixty-five years of age if they have been twenty-five years in the city's employ. In Norway insurance is compulsory for all industrially employed workmen. Hungary offers obligatory insurance for all employes of both sexes. In Italy there is obligatory insurance against accident and voluntary insurance against sickness and disability. In Finland all workmen are authorized to insure against sickness, the cost being borne equally by employer and employee. Every workman making more than $145 is compelled to insure against accident.

The Board of Trade Labor Gazette, published by the British government, states that the eight-hour day in government workshops is a success from the employer's view point. No extra cost has been incurred by the public on account of the reduction of hours nor has the output of work been diminished. The later hour of starting work insures greater regularity of attendance and there is an improvement in the physical condition of the men and a consequent increase of their power of production. The fact that the reduction in the hours of work had not reduced the output or increased the cost of it in private establishments of factories, led the British government to assume that the same effects would obtain in the government workshops, and the belief has been fully justified. The shorter workday was introduced in 1894, and everyone is satisfied.

As a result of the labor legislation in Germany during the past twenty-five years, and especially of the laws obliging the working classes to insure against sickness, accident and old age, as outlined above, cases constantly arise in which the work people find it necessary to obtain legal advice. In supplying this want the initiative has come from the workmen themselves, and more especially from the Social Democratic trades unions, which comprise the bulk of organized labor in Germany. The agencies established for the purpose are known as Workmen's Secretariate. The first of these was started in 1889 in Berlin. Now there are forty-eight in the empire, twenty-two of which are administered by the trades councils of their respective localities, while twenty-four are administered by special committees on which members of other bodies besides the trades unions are represented. The funds are obtained by assessing members. The rates vary from 2 cents in Berlin to 62 cents, yearly, in Goppingen, the average rate being 19 cents. One Secretariate, that of Gotha, receives a subsidy of $500 an

nually from the state. The expenses are very moderate indeed. But for the help of the Secretariates large sums in the way of compensation and pensions would be lost to the working people every year. The officials who conduct the agencies have in most cases been workmen, and in the capacity of union officers or party leaders have become qualified by a study of the labor laws to become their recognized exponents. As the work of the agencies increases in importance, however, the standard of qualifications required in their conductors is becoming higher.

A considerable number of workmen's legal aid societies have also been fostered by the Protestant and Roman Catholic churches. In 1904 the latter church ran sixty-two offices of this kind. To persons without means no charge is made for advice. A small yearly fee secures membership. In the same year eight similar offices were maintained by Protestant organizations. There is also a "Christian People's Bureau" in Berlin. Seven municipal institutions are maintained and give advice for a trifling charge, and three other towns are to establish offices. In a large number of cases advice was given free.

The growth of trade unions in France of late years has been marked. Since 1898 the number has doubled and the membership has increased by 78 per cent. There are now 4,625 unions with 781,344 members (including 69,405 women). As in the United States, many of the unions are federated. The number of federations in 1905 was 158, with 3,176 unions and 681,863 members.

In France unemployed benefit is not so generally paid by trade unions as in England. The total membership of such unions, according to the latest year for which a comparison can be made, was 643,297, or less than 5 per cent, were known to belong to unions which paid their members some allowance when out of work. With a view to encouraging the system of unemployed benefit for work-people, the French government, in their budget of April, 1905, voted, for the ensuing financial year, a sum of $21,828.00 for subsidizing the funds of societies which provide assistance to their members during unemployment.

FLOAT AND MEMBERS OF L U. 807, OKLAHOMA CITY, OK.

"G

ET some more pine knots Jim, and I'll soon have supper ready; and Jack, you and Pedro might go down to the spring and bring up a couple of buckets of water." So spoke Tom Jackson, our amateur cook at "Camp Lookout," as we termed it. We were up in the Sierras on a hunting trip, we four, Tom Jackson, Jim Nichols, Pedro Gomez and myself. We were all Sacramento lads, Sacramento, the beautiful city of the plains. We were up in the hills on a six-weeks' trip. Our camp we had located on a shelving rock, plenty of room, perhaps the area of a city block. Our idea of locating on the cliff was, primarily, safety. In those days the Sierras fairly swarmed with bears, brown and grizzly, catamounts and the treacherous coyote. Snakes-black and rattlers-were as numerous as grafters in a national political campaign. On the cliff we were secure at night; that was the only time we dreaded, as in the daylight we were hunting those critters. But when the shades of night fell over those everlasting hills, when the mist wraiths began to rise from gorge and canyon, we desired to reduce the danger line to the minimum, else none would feel like sleeping out there under the stars unless we detailed one. of our party as a night sentinel.

The cliff was triangular in shape; to the westward we had the mighty wall of the Sierras towering over us hundreds of feet, to the south and east we were safeguarded by the awful depths of Cape Horn, that fearful rent in the heart of the mountains that spoke of some frightful convulsion of nature in prehistoric times. Heavens! but it was a thrilling, awe-inspiring scene to gaze down into those staggering depths two thousand feet below. Our entrance and exit to Camp Lookout was from the north; the entrance was narrow, about ten feet, and so when evening fell over Camp Lookout and we had returned from our day's hunt, our first business was to get supper. Tom Jackson was by vote and desire appointed cook and endowed with powers as "Boss" of the camp, hence, as our story opens, Tom was giving orders to the rest of us. Jim Nichols obeyed orders and replenished our pile of pine knots that were to keep our camp fire going until morning. Pedro and I followed directions, picked up our buckets and brought two buckets of water from the spring, and all this time Tom Jackson was engaged

in the culinary art. "Water and wood all O. K. boys?" yelled Tom. "Sure" replied the three of us, as we wiped the perspiration from our brows. "Then up with the barricade," ordered Tom. We three passed over to the west side of our camp under the towering peaks and began to carry huge brambles, dry limbs of trees, etc., and pile them across the entrance to our camp. We piled them high and broad, and between the layers of brambles and dead limbs we placed at intervals long ropes made of curled hair.

"Barricade up?" yelled Tom. "Sure," again yelled we three. "Feed the stock," came Tom's order.

Over near the towering rocks stood our mountain wagon in which we had made the journey up from the valley. From the wagon we took hay and feed for our two horses that stood tethered near by. We fed the horses, gave them water and then led them along the cliff a short distance and tethered them near a sort of a natural stable, a cave scooped out of the rock; the cave we bedded with straw. Thus our equine friends could go in out of the chill night air to comfortable stalls at their pleasure.

Our work ended, we waited the call for supper. Our appetites, keenly sharp from the day's hunt, were by this time on edge, for the gentle evening breeze at intervals brought to us the aroma of Tom's coffee; Tom was great on coffee. Mingled with the coffee fumes, we caught the odor of fried bacon and-let your imagination run riot, ye victims of the beef trust-with the coffee and bacon odor came the suggestion of fried venison and bear steaks; add to that the knowledge of Tom's hot biscuits, and you can imagine with what delight we heard Tom's inquiry, “Is camp all O. K?" "Sure" was our joint reply in stentorian tones.

"Come a-running," was the command, and run we did and so did "Barney," "Gus," and "Topsy," our three dogs. They had been following us about the camp and seemed to know in dog fashion that there was no use hanging around Tom, that they must eat with the crowd.

The way that bacon, those venison and bear steaks disappeared would have struck terror to the heart of an average boarding house keeper or "beanery" proprietor. Our dogs, Barney, Gus and Topsy partici