caribou.

FIVE CENTS O

NEWFOUNDLAND'S TRIBUTE TO HER HUMBLER FRIENDS

This issue commemorates French history, and its postal porthe service of the Newfoundland con- traiture fills in many of the gaps in tingent in the World War. Stamps the stamp issues of the United States, of the one-cent caribou type contain thereby achieving a more complete the names of the engagements in historical record of the settlement and which the fighting Newfoundlanders development of the North American participated-Suvla Bay, Gueude- continent. Canadian postage, though court, Beau- it began only in 1851, with a stamp mont Hamel, issue picturing a beaver, Prince Monchy, Steen- Albert (the royal consort), and Queen beck, Lange- Victoria on three values of labels, marck, Cambrai, carries any seeker after historical and Combles. background to the days when France Still another owned and ruled a large part of the world event in our North American continent, including time is commemorated upon these world-war stamps overprinted," "First Trans-At

THE SUVLA BAY MEMORIAL

lantic Air Post. April 1919." These stamps were used on correspondence that started across the Atlantic (May 15, 1919) from St. John's in an airplane piloted by Harry G. Hawker. The aviator and his companion were rescued at sea. Authority exists for the computation that two hundred of the three-cent brown stamps were overprinted in this manner, of which eighteen were damaged and destroyed, ninety-five used on letters, eleven given as presentation copies, and the remaining seventy-six sold in aid of the Marine Disasters Fund. Stamps of the unsuccessful Hawker flight are quoted at forty-five pounds sterling, an inevitable and constantly increasing value for an established rarity. One month to the day from Hawker's hop-off, John Alcock made a successful landing at Clifden, Ireland, having made a nonstop flight from St. John's (his starting-point on June 14, 1919) with mails on board bearing a second issue of a Newfoundland transatlantic postage-stamp overprinted with a valuation of one dollar.

There are three great senior partners in the world-wide British commonwealth-India, Canada, and Australia. By location and by the ties that should bind great neighbors occupying the same continent, the Dominion of Canada holds first place in the interest and affection of the people of the United States. The romance of Canada as told by its postagestamps is, as one would expect, a pictorial revelation of both English and

EARLIEST CANADIAN ISSUES

that portion of the United States later covered by the Louisiana Purchase (1803), to the Peace of Paris (1763), an event that witnessed the setting of France's star in the west as a result of the great victory of the English under young James Wolfe over the French General Montcalm on the heights of Quebec in 1759. Postage-stamps came too late in world development to afford France an opportunity to use them as a record of its triumphs in North America, but the ultimate unification of the English and French populations com

de Champlain; a view of Champlain's stockaded house in the settlement of Quebec, another view of the city in 1700, a portrait stamp that honors the victorious Wolfe and the vanquished Montcalm, and regal labels joining King Edward and Queen Alexandra, King George V and Queen Mary, the latter, at the time of the issue (1908) being Prince and Princess of Wales. By a strange omission, this Canadian issue ignored Queen Victoria in whose reign Canadian federation was fully achieved, as evidenced by a special confederation stamp issued in 1917 to celebrate the fiftieth anniversary of the binding together of Upper and Lower Canada, Nova Scotia, and New Brunswick, followed later by all the other areas in upper North America except Newfoundland. Throughout the length and breadth of all the British lands, but one imagination has been fired to attempt the record of the greatness in area of the empire upon a miniature postal emblem. This was done in Canada in 1898 at the Christmas season when a label of blue and carmine, designed by Postmaster-General Mulock, pictured a flat-surfaced view of the world, in inadequate perspective, yet revealing the all-red colonies of the crown on the shoreline of Asia, on the continent of Australia, in British North America, South America and Central America, the West Indies, in the Mediterranean and Africa! A huge task, as a reproduction of the stamp reveals, yet a patriotic one that should have served

prising modern Canada is portrayed on a series of Canadian stamps commemorating the three-hundredth anniversary of the founding of Quebec by Cartier (1608). From these stamps emerges an historic past with a picture of the arrival of Cartier at the site of Quebec in 1595, a portrait stamp coupling Cartier and Samuel

as an incentive to creative postal art in London or the other dominions. Beneath this stamp the legend reads, "We hold a vaster empire than has been."

Canada provided (1897) the most enduring and perfectly designed issue of stamps celebrating the Diamond (Continued on page 242)

M

OST boys, as they merge into manhood, are content to belong to the rank and file, to get as good a job as they can without unduly exerting themselves, and let it go at that. They seem to lack the ambition to become officers of the line. As far as I can determine, there are two reasons for this one is that they do not possess the desire or have the will power to do those things that prepare for leadership, and the other is that they do not feel that they have the capacity for leadership and so leave it to others.

One of the best ways to train oneself for leadership is to learn to talk in public. I am connected with a collegiate institution of over one thousand men and women that is much like a good many other institutions of its kind. It is impossible, although there are periodic attempts, to form a debating union. If fifteen candidates appear for the debating teams, it is a large number. The men detest the public-speaking courses. In the public-speaking contests it is with difficulty that enough men are secured to compete for the prizes. The required course in junior argumentation is a bore. The only interest in the course in senior debate is to get through it. Yet on every hand, positions are open to men who can rise to their feet in an assembly or before a board of directors and talk to their fellow-men. Just because there are so few who have the courage and the ability to do it, those who can are in demand and are automatically thrust forward. Every community needs its spokesmen, every organization, every profession, every collective effort. Into the hands of men who can express their own ideas and the ideas of others are placed the reins of leadership.

Alexander Meiklejohn, former president of Amherst College, was responsible for the observation that he had never known a college debater who had not made a success of life. On the occasion of a debate between Harvard and Yale universities, the Honorable Chauncey M. Depew once said:

"There is, and there always will be, as great a demand for public speaking and as great an opportunity for it as was the case in what is known as the days of great orators. But the last twenty years of college history has not produced a single famous orator in the United States. This is seen mostly

in the courts, upon the political plat- what they know about it. Those form, and in the decadence of popular who are become prominent, are often oratory in the Senate, in Congress, recognized as the leaders in their and in the various halls of legislation profession, and earn a correspondingly of the country." larger amount above what their mute There are some men, perhaps, to colleagues command. The clamor of whom public address comes as a all the professions is for men who can natural gift. More of whom De- interpret their work before their own mosthenes, practising with pebbles in members and the public. There are his mouth against the roar of the the class magazines in which to do it, ocean, is the classic example must the general magazines in which to do acquire the art. That young man it, and books innumerable. Yet the with ambition in his heart who boys say we do not want to learn to neglects to cultivate the power that write; we want to learn chemistry. public utterance will give him is They are deliberately shutting their blind. eyes to the future, chaining themselves to a wheel that is perpetually revolving with hundreds and thousands of others identical with themselves, electing to become cogs in the machine rather than the driving power. Many of them cannot write even correct English, to say nothing of expressing themselves clearly, forcibly, and interestingly.

"I have never got over being afraid of my audience," observed a man who is in frequent demand as a public speaker. And another, an auctioneer: "I never get up before a crowd and begin to speak but what my legs shake."

One may dread to speak in public, but that signifies nothing. To attain success, a person may well have to do many things that he does not like to do. If it were not so, there would be more successes. People as a rule have not the force of character to make themselves do what they do not want to do. Those who do have it, presently find the others handing over to them the jobs that bring fame and fortune.

Just as the majority of men cannot get up before other men and speak, so the majority of men cannot sit before other men and write. Speaking and writing are the two principal ways of conveying thoughts and ideas. Thoughts and ideas must be conveyed. The world in all its departments is looking for men who can do the conveying. To be the world's spokesman, learn to speak, learn to write. There are as few men who can write anything as can say anything. I have already intimated that I am connected with the teaching staff of a certain college.

"We are here to learn chemistry, economics, agriculture, medicine, engineering," the students say. "We don't care anything about English."

That is where they make a vital mistake, where they overlook the very thing that is going to make them different from their fellows, superior to their fellows. There are a great many competent chemists in the world, economists, agriculturists, medical men and engineers, men who know their work. There are not so many who are able to pass on to others

Of course it all takes work. And when one does not see just where the work is going to lead to, he is reluctant about tackling it. He can see where he is going to convert his knowledge of engineering or of medicine into dollar bills and a livelihood, but he cannot see where speaking or writing is going to bring him anything. So he sets them aside as unimportant. Only here and there, now and then, does an exceptional one appear on the scenes who has the imagination to see into the future, learn to do what his fellows can not do, and profit by it. It is the fellow who can do what the others can not who wins, is a benefactor to himself, his line of work, and the rest of mankind.

Take the boys who study agriculture. I am in great sympathy with these boys and what they represent. Inherently, public expression seems more difficult for them than for the boys who come from other walks of life and are making a study of other subjects. Generations of quiet folk of few words are behind them. Yet these are the very boys who for the sake of their own future and the future of their profession should learn to take their places in the open forum of the world's affairs. I do not mean that they should do this in order to become heads of dairy leagues and coöperative associations. What I mean is that when they go back to the farms they should be equipped to become leaders in their community life, like the merchants and professional men of

the town. They should be able to serve as spokesmen for the interests which they represent. There is no reason in the world why a farmer should not become an influential man in the life about him and rise as high as other men in the world of affairs, with all that that would mean to himself and his calling. The trouble is not with the profession, it is with the men themselves. I have taught these boys, and know something about it. They are not the college orators, not the boys who stand up in college assemblies and class meetings and help shape undergraduate policies; they are not the boys whose names appear on the staffs of their college papers. I wish they were. If they were, I could see the farmer coming into his own. They are fine, dependable fellows, but English, either spoken or written, is not their forte; they are modest and unassuming, skeptical of their own powers in fields so foreign to their natural bent, failing to understand the importance of it all, refusing to push themselves up as speakers and writers; and so they go back into their communities, taking up a work that is so deserving of praise and recognition and the good things of life, and, as in college, keep their seats, maintaining their traditional reticence, while others assume the leadership.

At a recent college smoker an alumnus was brought back to arouse enthusiasm in the student body on the eve of a big game. He was called back because he was considered the kind of a man who could inspire others. I was told later that he was the son of a blacksmith, that when he had first come to college his speech was as clumsy as his bearing. But in him was the gift of sight, and the divine fire of ambition, the will to do. Before his four years were over he had become a member of perhaps the greatest debating team that his institution has ever turned out.

"The first minute they laugh at me," he was wont to say; "the next minute they laugh with me; and the next minute they are laughing at the other fellow."

Once upon a time, debating was a popular pastime among students, even among boys and men who were not students, in the accepted meaning of the term. Witness the historic lyceums that now stand along our country highways with closed doors and boarded windows, bleak and austere reminders of the pleasures and the culture and the training ground of another day, listening unheeded to the swift, silent passage of the luxu

interest in it, but those who look ahead and work for the morrow, building for themselves a future, have recognized its importance and are going in for it. Debating teams from the English universities make almost yearly visits to the United States, and teams from the United States are beginning to return the compliment. We have intersectional debates, with teams, debating lengthy schedules, traveling half across the continent. Those institutions which have not the means to engage in such extensive campaigns are lengthening and strengthening their more localized schedules. Some colleges have become famous as debating institutions. Their debating teams have won them more recognition than their athletic teams. It is all a part of a big heaving beneath the crust. Sometime the surface will give way and mountains

time of Andover, Massachusetts. Mr. Gulliver, who was intimately acquainted with Abraham Lincoln, asked him how he acquired such a remarkable control of language. Mr. Lincoln replied:

"Well, if I have any power that way, I will tell you how I suppose I came to get it. You see, when I was a boy over in Indiana, all the local politicians used to come to our cabin to discuss politics with my father. I used to sit and listen to them; but Father would not let me ask many questions, and there were a good many things I did not understand. Well, I'd go up to my room in the attic and sit down or pace back and forth till I made out just what they meant. And then I'd lie awake for hours just a-putting their ideas into words that the boys around our way could understand."

Chuck waved good night to Hap and went on up to his room. But it was late and he was sleepy. No math that night. He'd get up early in the morning and do it.

A week passed by. It was the night of the freshman banquet. The dinner was to take place in the Mansion House at Granby, some fifteen miles away. The Sterling freshmen always held their banquets there; in the college town of Sterlington there was no place large enough.

Freshmen began to collect in front of the gymnasium, a noisy, pushing crowd. The marshals lined them up, two abreast, for the parade through the college campus. As a As a starter they gave the Sterling cheer, then under the leadership of Day, their president, they wound their way through the campus paths, singing as they went. Seniors and juniors at open windows and out on the campus cheered and applauded. Sophomores dogged their steps and jeered.

They made for the northeast corner, where chartered trolley-cars and a few automobiles were waiting for them, out beyond the college buildings. They piled in and started on their way, led by two automobiles containing the marshals, the dinner committee, and Dan, the toastmaster.

The dinner was held in the big upstairs dining-room of the old hotel. Several of the marshals were placed at the doors of the room as guards. It was the custom to guard against sophomore interruption; not that they expected any. Ten years years before there had been a big disturbance, and the next year the faculty had shut down on the banquet. It had started up again the following year, but under strict faculty regulations, and there had been no further trouble. Still, it was the ancient custom to guard the doors, so guard them the freshmen did.

Off the dining-room was a small anteroom that led to a rear pair of stairs and a side entrance of the hotel. Chuck was stationed there.

He

His dinner was brought to him as he sat on a chair by the half-open door, inside the anteroom. But he enjoyed it all from that vantage-point. had a little feeling of pride about it, the importance of sitting off by himself, a class marshal, and it was far from his thoughts just then that sometimes "pride goeth before a fall."

In riotous fashion the dinner progressed. Hap, as being responsible for the arrangements, was continually jumping up and consulting the head-waiter. For once a serious look was on his face, that broke into

a gin, however, when he sat down to tion after all! Chuck forgot to be snatch a bit to eat.

Dan, at the head of the table, beside Bill Day, sat most of the time with his head in his hands, in pretended anxiety about the witty things he would shortly have to say. The fellows would listen to Dan all right, Chuck ruminated, but the other speakers would have a tough time of it!

The dinner was almost over. Dan was leaning to one side, speaking to Day. In a minute or two he would rise and begin his introductory remarks as toast-master. Chuck had finished his ice-cream. As he was handing the empty plate to a waiter, some one came into the anteroom through the door behind him. He heard a voice:

"Oh, Blue. Interrupt you a minute?”

He turned. A sophomore was standing there.

"I'll be darned!" Chuck thought. Immediately he was on his guard. "Want to see me?" he asked.

The sophomore had a serious, worried look on his face. He held out an envelop.

wary.

He went to the door of the diningroom and called Dan. Dan got up, came into the anteroom and began to read the note. Then Hap noticed them and came in too.

"What's up?" he asked.

"A good deal," said Dan. "Take a look."

The three boys stood together, their eyes on the note. Latour watched them and a grin spread over his serious face. He nodded through the crack of the door by which he had entered, then slipped around to the door that led to the dining-room. Before the three freshmen glanced up and saw what was happening, the door was closed, locked, and Latour had the key in his pocket.

Simultaneously, eight husky sophomores came in quickly and quietly. A scuffle, a series of yelps from the three cornered freshmen, but in no time at all they were overpowered, gagged, their hands and feet tied, and the sophomores were carrying them down the rear stairs. That note had been a sophomore hoax!

As the yelps sounded from the anteroom, commotion suddenly reigned in the dining-room beyond. Boys jumped up and pushed at the door. Bill Day cried:

"Down the front way, some of you! Catch them at the side entrance."

"A note for Dan Lay," he said. "Jack Ely sent it." Ely was the president of the Sterling Dramatic Club. The sophomore continued: "Something about the show tomorrow night. Appleton's been called home suddenly, I believe. Mother 's sick or something. He's got the principal comedy part in the show-but you know that, of course. I was near the dramat office in my car. Ely came out and asked me to bring this along, Boys rushing out of the hotel, double quick, to Lay." around to the side. Boys piling Chuck hesitated; he figured that through the anteroom and down the he 'd better be wary.

"Read it, if you want to," said the sophomore. He was a little fellow, bespectacled, the obvious student. Monty Latour was his name. Chuck did n't know much about him, except that he was a high-stand man in the sophomore class and an editor of the college literary monthly-one of the intellectual, serious-minded kind, he imagined. Chuck took the note and read it.

Latour started to go, then hesitated. "Shall I wait? Perhaps Lay will want to send an answer back."

Chuck was reading the note. It was on regular dramat paper. So Appleton really was called away. Dan would have to take his place. Chuck knew that Dan had understudied the part, but of course it would mean a lot of rehearsing. The note asked Dan to come back as soon as possible after the dinner. They would have to get in some rehearsing that night. A serious situa

Those nearest the front rushed out, and down through the hotel lobby. The boys at the anteroom door kept shoving, then gave a mighty heave and broke the lock.

rear stairs; behind them, a diningroom left empty, save for waiters standing there and looking blank.

But it was too late, for all the freshmen saw was an automobile dashing wildly around the corner. They ran for their own cars, parked near by, got in and speeded off. But the sophomore car had vanished. And after half an hour spent in roaming the countryside in all directions, the freshman cars returned. The search so far had been in vain.

Meanwhile, in the sophomore car the captors took the gags from their captives' mouths. Besides the three freshmen, six sophomores were crowded in, five big fellows and little Latour. He was directing everything-the leader of the bunch. Chuck looked at him amazed.

What a crazy chump he 'd been! He had thought Latour was a highbrow, too serious minded for such a stunt as this. "Live and learn," Chuck thought to himself, "live and