upied. This was to keep out nihilists' bombs. Armed sentries
patrolled the roofs. When the Czar started for home all the railroad
bridges, as well as the streets of Berlin, Marienburg, and Dantzic, were
guarded by soldiers, policemen, and detectives. Not until after the Czar
left Dantzic was it known whether he had proceeded by train or on the
imperial yacht _Derjava_. When the train started for the border 50,000
Russian troops were placed on guard along the railroad tracks. Every
journey the unhappy ruler made was attended by similar precautions.

[Illustration: THE FRENCH PRESIDENT ON THE WAY FROM VERSAILLES.]

When Francais Felix Faure, the newly-elected President of the French
Republic, made his first railroad journey after election, he found that
being a mere President is almost as unpleasant as playing king. For fear
of anarchists a strong force of soldiers and four sappers and miners
guarded each of the railway bridges and grade crossings between
Versailles and Paris. Extra policemen and a little army of five hundred
detectives watched the palace in which the National Assembly sat. A
strong battalion of lancers and more foot soldiers than you could count
escorted the new President to the special train in waiting at Versailles
at 8 o'clock on Friday morning, January 18th. Fortunately no anarchist
got a shot at the President as he was whirled along, but as he emerged
from the St. Lazare railway station in Paris voices in the crowd yelled
at him, "Down with the check-takers!"--a pointed hint that M. Faure was
implicated in the Panama Canal scandal.

A CORRECTION.

"I've dot two Movver Gooses,"
Said Mollie. "If you please,"
Said Johnny, "Don't say Gooses,
Because it's Mother Geese."

DR. RAINSFORD'S ADVICE TO BOYS.

When we were boys we did things without thinking much about them. Boys
do not generally think much; yet I think even when I was a boy I found
myself sometimes wondering why it was so hard to do the things I wanted
to do well. It was ever so much harder, of course, to do well the things
that one did not specially want to do. I want to talk to you a little
about the reason that lies back of this difficulty of doing things well.

When I was thirteen my father gave me a gun. That birthday long ago is
one of the very reddest of red-letter days in my life. I have had many a
good time since; but none of these good times, I think, have quite come
up to that hour, so full of ast