for the sole purpose of getting prices not otherwise attainable, which is exactly the purpose of the Standard Oil Company. The method by which prices are fixed is very simple. In the first place, the aid of the United States Government is invoked to obtain, through United States Consuls, the most accurate information possible of the condition of the Spanish raisin crop. This information is supplemented from other reliable sources, and then estimate is made, considering the European demand, of the price at which Spanish raisins can probably be laid down in this country, after paying a duty of two and a half cents a pound. This fixes the price above which California raisins cannot go. After thus estimating the probable effect of foreign competition, these honest farmers will carefully consider the size of their own crop. If it should be excessive, they may fear that it will not all go into consumption at a price only just low enough to exclude foreign goods, in which case they will reduce it to a figure at which the whole crop can probably be moved, provided only that a fair margin of profit is still left. Below a fair price they will not go, and if the entire crop cannot be sold at such a price they will sell what they can, and make the rest into brandy or pork. Raisins make excellent pork. This, of course, is a substantial and effective trust, controlling the product of at least six millions of dollars invested in vineyards.

Now, at this writing it is stated, with some appearance of authority, that the Democratic party slogan for the next campaign is to be, "Smash the Trusts." This is an expressive motto, suggestive of a certain vigor in execution well calculated to fire the popular heart. Of course, it does not mean anything whatever. It foreshadows no definite legislation of any kind, and pledges the party to nothing on earth. The millionaires understand this perfectly, and while they may be annoyed at the necessity of using such language, are not likely to withhold their contributions. But these simple-minded farmers of the San Joaquin Valley may not understand it, and it can hardly be proclaimed to these 2,064 monopolists that nothing in particular is meant by the language or intended by its authors, except to get votes. They are too many to intrust with such a secret. And

the worst of it is that this hotbed of Monopoly is a Democratic and Populist stronghold. The majority of these excellent raisin-farmers are unquestionably either Democrats or Populists, but they set great store by their raisin trust, and distinctly do not wish to be smashed. If the party of their love announces its intention to smash them, while the other party does not, it is a settled fact that neither love of Mr. Bryan nor reverence for Populist tradition, will prevent their voting solidly Republican in 1900, provided that party will let them alone. I have used the declaration of the Democratic leaders as an illustration solely because we have less knowledge of the intent of the Republican leaders. They are as sorely perplexed as the other fellows, but, with the exception of the picturesque Pingree, have thus far had sense enough to keep their mouths shut. The San Joaquin raisin association is but one instance. There are over six hundred walnut-growers in this State who have a trust equally effective. There are over two thousand five hundred orangegrowers who are doing their best to form a trust, and several thousand prune-growers who are taking the first steps.

I am able to give these details about California because I live here. But California is not the only State in which farmers are combining in trusts. In Central New York and Northern Ohio the grape-growers are doing precisely the same thing. The dairymen in Eastern New York maintain a very effective milk trust. These are rather formidable bodies, and in so close and so large a State as New York it would be very dangerous for any political party to antagonize them. The monopolistic spirit is spreading, and there are doubtless many farmers' trusts of which I have never heard. There can be no law devised which will smash the Standard Oil

Company which will not also "smash"

these honest and down-trodden toilers. And the misery of it is that they know it.

The fact is that co-operation, whether of capitalists or non-capitalists, cannot and ought not to be "smashed." It is a natural development of society, to be cherished and regulated. Improvements in the machinery of business are as important to society as improvements in the machinery of production. Incidentally, they all

carry with them distress to individuals. The discharge of a great army of salesmen which business consolidation has made possible brings trouble to many worthy families; but the introduction of the power-loom brought greater distress to more families. Department stores ruin many small tradesmen, and tall buildings destroy what had been unearned increment on other streets; but they all represent distinct economic gains which can no more be prevented, nor ought to be, than the use of machines in production. It is the same with concentration of capital. What concerns us is the proper distribution of the gains. Individuals will seize all of them if permitted, and in order to do so, and to increase them beyond reason, will endeavor to secretly influence political action, and to corrupt public servants. That is the great harm they can do, and the prevention of that is the real trust problem. It is not, however, the matter to which politicians will direct our attention. What, if anything, they really intend to do, is to pass unconstitutional laws to be set aside by the courts.

It is doubtful whether we can solve the trust problem in America, except by constitutional amendment, possibly involving reconstruction of many of our notions of the sacredness of property. The farmers' trusts are beneficial societies, not dangerous to any one. They have votes. and therefore do not need to buy them. They are arising in the normal way, as the only possible relief from unbearable competition, which is the mother of co-operation. The discussion of trusts seems to be proceeding on the assumption that they are stronger than the people. This assumption is wholly wrong. The more capital is concentrated the weaker it becomes, because it reduces the number of votes. It is votes that count, not money, except as money is used to buy votes. To prevent this must be the first exercise of the power of society. Just what legislation may be required to prevent the abuses of concentrated capital, and to seize, for society, its due share of the benefits of concentration, we do not yet quite know. In Europe control is proceeding upon the lines of the use of the power of taxation. It will probably be the same here, and with us may involve constitutional amendments.

The first step toward intelligent control is perfect knowledge of facts. At present we do not know what the trusts are doing, and therefore cannot tell what society should do. The Industrial Commission now investigating at Washington will discover what some trusts have done in times past, but it will get no inkling of what any may be doing next week. We need to know what all trusts are doing all the time. There is obviously but one way to do this, and that is to authoritatively participate in their administrations. This is the first step toward the solution of the trust problem, and it, and it alone, will render the next steps possible. I therefore respectfully recommend the following as the trust plank in the platforms of the Republican, Democratic, and Populist parties:

Resolved (I), That the grand old

party, ever true to the traditions which have come down from our forefathers, heartily favors, and will aid by legislation, and constitutional amendment, if necessary, the concentration of capital and labor for protective and commercial purposes. We favor the co-operation of all persons of like interests, whether capitalists, farmers, or workingmen.

(II) To the end that society, rather than indipossible by the power of society, we favor the viduals, may secure the economic gains made declaration by law that the administration of all industrial enterprises of great magnitude are public functions in which society is entitled to be represented in such a manner as to assure to itself complete and accurate knowledge of all their transactions, to which end one Director and the principal Auditor of all such corporations shall be public officers, appointed under civil service rules, by the President of the United States, to whom annual reports must be made of all financial transactions. Contributions of business corporations to political parties, or for political purposes, should be forbidden, and also all disbursements of money, except upon such vouchers that the purpose of all expenditures can be traced.

(III) As a further assurance that the funds of rich men and corporations shall not be employed to debauch public servants or secretly influence political action, we favor the enactment of laws which shall compel all political organizations, or candidates, to make weekly publication of the names of all contributors to party or campaign funds, with the amounts so contributed, and the disbursement of such funds in detail.

The above plank would be entirely satisfactory to all farmers' trusts, for they have no secrets. It would be a better votecatcher than the most thundering denunciations. But it would cut off the money supply, and hence has not the slightest chance of adoption if the politicians can prevent it.

HE leading citizens of Grubstake

TH

were assembled to decide an important problem relating to the welfare of their city. The question was, Would a cemetery be an advantage or a disadvantage to a growing town? Opinions were divided; some were in favor of having a cemetery, others advocated the burial of the dead in the one already established in the neighboring village of Starvation.

"Just like Grantly to die, and get us into this scrape," grumbled one of the men. "What business had a little puny thing like him to come to the Klondike, anyhow? Might have known he couldn't stand it."

"Was that what you said when he sent that patent beef-tea to your boy, an' him needin' it more himself, bein' sicker than the boy ever was?" The first speaker subsided under the contemptuous tone of his critic. "I tell you," continued Lucky Tom Short, who presided over the meeting by right of possessing the most dust, "I tell you that little chap was the cheerfullest man in Grubstake, an' done the most to help others, an' him the poorest feller here, hevin' made no strike, nor filed no claim. An' now that he's needin' a grave, I'd give it to him, an' give it prompt, an' without grudgin'."

"I would second that motion," said another, "but, as Justice of the Peace of Grubstake, I feel obliged to place her prosperity above all other considerations, and there's Starvation City watching to get ahead of us, if it's a possible thing. And I put it to you, gentlemen, suppose a new settler came along, and hesitated between Grubstake and Starvation City. Suppose he looked around while he was trying to decide, and noticed the buryingground at Starvation and how many there were in it, and then came over to Grubstake, where he would find no graveyard, and would be informed we never needed one. Now, gentlemen, imagine yourselves in his place. How would you choose? Undoubtedly you would say "The town that's too healthy to need a ceme

tery is the town for me,' and thus Grubstake would score one more victory over Starvation."

As the justice took his seat, a buzz of approval ran around the circle. After it had ceased, a tall man rose slowly to his feet. "Judge," said he, "I thank you for your eloquence. Grubstake may well be proud of an official who has her interests so near at heart. Allow me to say, however, that there are two sides to every question, and I beg the attention of this meeting while I present another view for consideration. As you all know, Starvation City has always been jealous of Grubstake. Even the name of our town has been a thorn in her flesh. Starvation, you remember, got her name from a party of prospectors whose provisions ran short, and who were found on the site of the future city, nearly dead from hunger. When the little settlement was made it was called Starvation, and the name clung to the town, though it tried in vain to change it for a more attractive one. Then, a few miles away, our village came into existence and was named Grubstake. Starvation has disliked us from the beginning, and feels she is the elder, and therefore should be larger and more prosperous. Now, my friends, my point is this: Starvation will do anything to increase her census, and if we take her the deceased members of this community, she will count them twice, once in the number contained in her cemetery, and again in the estimate of her population. I think you will agree with me that Grubstake should keep her inhabitants, dead or alive."

This time the applause was long and loud. When quiet was restored, Lucky Tom spoke.

"You hev heard the speeches of our distinguished friends, an' now I reckon you kin vote on the question, an' vote intelligent, hevin' hed the benefit of their remarks. Shell we hev our own buryin'ground, neat an' law-abidin', an' thereby prevent Starvation City from crowin' over us, by bein' more numerous, more civilized, more enlightened, an'-an' more

stylish? All in favor will signify their approval by sayin' ' Aye!""

A thundering chorus of Ayes' was the

answer.

"Contrary-minded, "No!"" remarked Lucky Tom, a pleased expression on his weather-beaten face. "The Ayes hev it. This here meetin' is now adjourned fer the purpose of pickin' out the spot fer the new cemetery of the city of Grubstake."

After some discussion, they decided on a piece of ground north of the town.

"Now, boys," said Lucky Tom, "we'll hev a big circle in the middle, fer the folks to drive 'round, an' in that circle will be the grave of the inaugurator of this here. cemetery. Light the fires to thaw the ground so we kin dig, an' while it's meltin' we'll lay out the boundaries, an' choose our graves. I don't intend to be buried in this country if I kin help it; but there's no knowin' what will happen, an' to be ready for emergencies, an' set an example, I'll buy a plot."

The lines were roughly surveyed and marked out, and many of the men promised to invest in lots. Then they began to dig the grave, taking turns in the work.

"There! How's that? Shall we call it ready?" asked the man who had been shoveling.

"Take out a little more at that end," advised one of the bystanders.

As the worker, in obedience to this suggestion, lifted another shovelful and threw it out on the mound of earth, a shout went up from the men as they saw it scatter and fall.

Each man looked at the others, not knowing what to do, and afraid to be the first to speak.

Lucky Tom, as usual, was equal to the occasion. "I take possession of this here claim," (at this several hands moved toward the pistol-pockets of their owners,-Lucky Tom's eyes flashed as he continued)," in the name of Joseph Wallingford Grantly." The hands returned to their normal positions. "An', as he can't work it, bein' dead, I will sell it to the

highest bidder. To start the ball a-rollin', I offer $50,000."

Another shout from the men, but with a different ring to it, expressing approbation for the generosity and business ability of the speaker.

'Judge, talk for the crowd," requested several.

The Justice of the Peace cleared his throat, and began: "I am invited to convey to Mr. Short the sentiments of our friends. I am sure that I express the opinion of each one of them when I state that we are overcome with admiration for his liberality. No doubt there are many here who would gladly give as much, but I may say without offense, for the greater wealth of Mr. Short is well known, that not one of us is able to raise his bid. I would suggest that a committee be appointed to draw up resolutions to send to the widow, and also an account of this day's proceedings, so that she may know the history of the fortune she will receive by the same mail that informs her of the death of her husband. Do my friends agree to this course of action?

"That's right, Judge; that's the way to do it."

Well," said the man who had blamed Grantly for dying, "you have made him rich, him that was insignificant enough when he was alive, but you have taken his grave away from him, and that's about all he wants now, it seems to me."

True!" exclaimed the Judge, "we must select another site for the cemetery. On second thought, I perceive that this location is rather too near the city. Grubstake must have room to grow, and I propose to establish the cemetery at a greater distance, and build a boulevard out to it. It will be a long time before those old fogies at Starvation think of a boulevard."

The next day they planned the cemetery over again, and dug a second grave, in which Grantly was buried.

Lucky Tom did not lose on his claim, which turned out to be one of the richest in the Klondike.

The Grubstake of to-day is much larger than Starvation City, and regards with pride the Grantly Cemetery and the Wallingford Boulevard leading to it.

TH

HE fresh, warm air of early summer was rustling the leaves through the orchards of the Santa Clara Valley, making them audible as well as visible, turning the green aside to reveal the glistening red of the ripening cherries, or exposing to the sun the growing peaches and pears and prunes and apricots that were to be sought out by only the sharpest

eye.

He

Thomas Golightly gave a nod of approval as he turned his horse from the dusty highway into one of the orchards and guided the buggy into the road that ran between the well-kept rows of trees. was a lawyer and a city man, but he held the theory that admiration of country life was a duty that man owed to society. Furthermore, he had a professional interest in the property over which he was driving, and he reached the house in a most amiable frame of mind.

"Good morning, Silas," said Mr. Golightly, deliberately, as he reined up his horse at the steps, and a young man in his shirt-sleeves hastened forward to assist him. "Another fine day."

"Yes, it's fine-a little too fine. We've been put back so that a few cloudy days would be a blessing. We need a chance to catch up with the work."

"Ah, yes; sickness and death and funerals do in terfere with our avocations. But they have the first lien on our time, even if the rest of nature refuses to wait for them. I believe that what brought your uncle the most serious regret when he knew he was to die was the circumstance that the King of Terrors should be so inconsiderate as to come at the busiest time of the year."

"I

"Yes," assented the young man. was telling Pete this morning that I thought it hastened his end mightily-his fretting over the time we had to take from the work in looking after him."

"Pete? Pete?" said the lawyer inquiringly.

"I mean Miss Stannard," said the young man apologetically. "It was one

of Uncle Jacob's freaks-the name you know."

Ah, yes. I remember now that he did mention the name more than once, but it had escaped my mind that it referred to the young lady. This is a beautiful view of the valley from here, is it not? The green of the orchards and the background of the mountains beyond are very impressive to a lover of nature. Your uncle was a very strange man about some thingsespecially about the ladies."

"Yes. Take the big chair by the window there if you like to look out. Uncle Jacob did n't take any stock in the women-folks. He never would have one of 'em on the place before Pete came-I mean Miss Stannard. He wouldn't even have a married man about."

"I remember," said Mr. Golightly, "it must have been ten or twelve years ago now, when Jacob Davenant first told me that he had a little niece left him to care for. I can see now the shamefaced air with which he gave the information and asked that I would see to getting her out here and put her into a boarding-school. I did attend to the matter, but the cost of a boarding-school education astounded him."

"I should think likely," said Silas grimly. "He wasn't what you would call free-handed about such matters."

Mr. Golightly smiled gravely. A dead client was not a subject for a jest, but the thought excused a shadow of professional

amusement.

"Hardly, hardly," he replied. "Indeed, he said to me, 'Why, Mr. Golightly, that would pay the wages of two of the best men on the ranch.' So he took the little girl out here as the least of the evils that hedged him about. I fancy he grew rather fond of her in time, though he would be the last one to have said so."

"Well," said Silas, "he got to be fonder of her than anything else but his money, and for a fact he spent more of that on her than you would guess. But it was a bitter pill for him to swallow when he