I quote the following from an exchange. It says:

"A more pathetic incident in real life is seldom told in print than the following, which is vouched for by a kindergarten teacher who resides in Brooklyn, N. Y.

"A little girl who attends a kindergarten on the east. side, the poorest district in New York City, came to the school one morning recently, thinly clad and looking pinched and cold. After being in the warm kindergarten a while the child looked up into the teacher's face and said earnestly:

"Miss C-- do you love God?'

"Why, yes,' said the teacher.

""Well, I don't,' quickly responded the child with great earnestness and vehemence, 'I hate Him.'

"The teacher, thinking this a strange expression to come from a child whom she had tried hard to teach that it was right to love God, asked for an explanation.

"Well,' said the child, He makes the wind blow, and I haven't any warm clothes; and He makes it snow, and my shoes have holes in them, and He makes it cold, and we haven't any fire at home, and He makes us hungry, and mamma hadn't any bread for our breakfast.""

Commenting it says: "If we consider the perfection of God's material bounties to the children of earth, it is hard, after reading this story, to regard with patience the complacency of rich blasphemers who, like the innocent little girl, charge the miseries of poverty to God."

The following is taken from The News-Dispatch:

"J. Pierpont Morgan's dog, His Nibs, value $3,000, was buried today. The burial was to take place the day before, but then Morgan was prevented from attending. The corpse of the dog lay in a casket lined with silk. The burial place is situated on one of the most beautiful spots on the banks of the Hudson. Many mourners attended the burial services, as the deceased had been a great favorite in the Morgan household. It is understood that upon the grave will be erected a Maltese cross.-News dispatch of July 17.

"A few days before this burial of the dog the New York Times brought the following local news:

"There was a baby born yesterday morning in Denver. A baby whose father is at the front fighting for his country. The little creature who came into the world yesterday morning is just twelve inches long and weighs only four pounds.

""There were no clothes waiting for it; not a shred. And there are none yet. Last night the baby was still wrapped in a piece of flannel. When this tiny daughter of a soldier came into the world her mother lay upon a feather tick, with not even a sheet under her. The tick was filthy and sour, but there was no money to buy another, and if it were taken away the woman would have lain on bare slats. She had neither sheets nor pillow cases on her bed of pain, and over her was an old comfort that had been taken from the children's bed to put over her. The children, three of them, lay upon a straw tick,

with never a shred of bedding under or over them. This is the condition that one soldier has left behind him, and this is the picture that has haunted him on the blue waters of the Pacific. Sad features of the picture can be duplicated in many cases among the families of the boys in blue. Grim want stalks among them. Empty larders greet their eyes, and the bitter alternative of starvation or public charity stare them in the face."

"How the powers that benefit by this war are using their soldiers is seen in the employment of cheap Chinese seamen on government transports and Chinese slave labor in the manufacture of soldiers' uniforms. Had this soldier's wife applied for work on uniforms, she would have been bluntly informed that the contractors were attending to it; and they are-for the benefit of the coutractors and those who let the contracts.-Free Society." The following taken from The Appeal to Reason tells of an actual occurrence at Cleveland, O.:

"HE STARVED TO DEATH.

"A man was picked up in Cleveland, O., a few days ago from a snow bank in which he had fallen and because of starvation had been unable to lift himself up, so he died. It was near the new Senaca street bridge; and when the workmen gathered around they recognized in the corpse a man who had been looking in vain for work. The superintendent had told him that he might have something in a day or so. An old story. The unknown had no money; and as one of the workmen shared his lunch with him the

day before he was found dead, he told of a wife and children depending upon him; his emaciated face grew sad as he said he had no money for them. His clothes were rough and threadbare, his shoes being worn so that his feet touched the ground, or rather the snow. He was picked up tenderly by the workmen and placed in a dead wagon and sent to the morgue.

"Think of it! In Senator Hanna's home; right at the door of him who promised a full dinner pail to every one if the Republicans won, a man starved to death because he could not find work. Maybe the man was shiftless; perhaps he was, but he was looking for work, and we are told that prosperity is stalking about the country, just running right into everybody's way, that you have to hustle to keep out of the way of work, and that if you are not careful a job will force itself onto you whether you want it or not."

The following is from St. Louis Labor:

"An excellent example of man's value under capitalism was shown last week on one of the fashionable thoroughfares just west of Grand avenue. The day was one of the coldest of the cold week, and the few persons of that district that were compelled to be out were hurrying along wrapped up in furs.

"The Humane Society ambulance was drawn up in front of one of the houses and a number of well dressed men and boys were putting a sick horse into it.

"A mattress was placed on the floor of the ambulance,

and great care was taken to arrange the door so that its head might rest comfortably.

"Quite a crowd had gathered and many expressions of sympathy were sent forth to the poor dumb creature.

"As I started on I heard the notes of a bugle, and about half a block away I saw a poor one-legged man, thinly clad, blowing a bugle for the few pennies that passers-by might give.

"The bare hands that held the bugle were chapped and bleeding.

"The ambulance drove away and the crowd that had gathered passed on, laughing and talking by their poor outcast brother with the bugle. Who would claim kinship? not they.

"The vile capitalist system that turns out hundreds of the same kind of unfortnates every day, disabled in their mills, factories and other profit-making hells, or when fighting in their wars, could find no more use for him.

"Why should they bother about him, when there are thousands of able-bodied men ready to take his place at even lower wages, in the desperate fight for bread.

"The Humane Society that seems so affected by the sight of a dumb animal in pain, does not see a brother in the next block.

"To get another horse, about fifty dollars has to be expended, while for the asking they can get a thousand human lives, willing to be bound in chains, far worse than that the slave bonds that can be severed in an instant by