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informing him that his name would be submitted for indorsement as a presidential candidate:

I do not think it proper for me to make any suggestion as to what the county committee should do or should not do. It is of the highest importance that the work of the administration shall be disinterested, and I shall do nothing to influence the selection or vote of delegates. assume that the party representatives will take such action, whatever it may be, as they believe to be best. They have their duty and I have mine. I think my position is clearly understood.

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That is what one would expect from him. One thing is certain, that if the people of New York, instead of the politicians, have their way, something will happen at Chicago that will deeply interest the Empire State and the entire American people. For the plain people can not see why what is so good for their interests in a state government should not be equally good for the whole country in the national government. The logic of it is simple so simple that the politicians know well they have a hard task on their hands to evade its conclusions. "people's man" is a hard man to beat, and Charles Evans Hughes is preëminently the people's man.

The

A GRADUATE OF BROWN UNIVERSITY AT EIGHTEEN

INTO AND OUT OF ANDORRA

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OR a thousand years and over, there has existed between France and Spain, in the midst of the Pyrenees Mountains, a small and independent nation. Both of its powerful neighbors have certain rights of veto over its laws, but these veto rights have not been used for several generations. Only a few times since the eighth century, when Charlemagne granted the Andorrans their first charter, has any one from either France or Spain tried to interfere in the affairs of this tiny nation. The map of Europe has been cut up and remodeled. time and time again, but the map-changers have passed by Andorra.

THE VILLAGE OF ORDINO AT HARVEST TIME

Life in Andorra is still largely pastoral and agricultural. It has no criminal class. Its prison doors are rusty from lack of use. Its government has never yet had to recognize prostitution. The screeching of the locomotive, the tooting of the automobile, the gong of the electric car, the bugle of the rocking stage coach, and even the creakings of a wagon, have never penetrated the mountain confines of Andorra. Family life here is still patriarchal, as it was long ago in the olden days told about in the Bible. Let us raise the curtain and look into this interesting little country of elemental and natural, simple life.

To say that one has visited Andorra may sound quite ordinary, very much like visiting any other place. But it is in reality something quite different. From the nearest railway station in France over the mountains, through Andorra and down to the first railway station in Spain is at the least a journey of several days, and one that will not be forgotten in a year or two. My troubles were multiplied because, ignorant of what I was getting into, I started out on a bicycle.

When leaving Ax, the last town in France before the long climb to the top of the pass-Andorra is on the southern watershed of the Pyrenees Mountains-I ran into an American from Connecticut who called out, "Hello there! Where are you going?"

"Andorra," I answered.

"What! with a bicycle?" he questioned. "That is my intention," I returned. "Well, you will never get there," he continued. Then being some eight or ten years older than I, he gave me a good heart to heart talk. He said he had traveled all over Europe on a bicycle, and even into the Ural Mountains between Russia and Siberia; that he was very fond of the sport, but that it was impossible for any one to go through Andorra on a bicycle. Only that day he had returned from a trip through Andorra on a donkey, and he said he knew the highways.

This advice caused me to change my plans slightly, and I decided to go around Andorra and, leaving my bicycle on the south, to go up into the country from that side. The little country does not measure over eighteen miles across in any direction, but going around it was more easily planned than done, for the highways

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that the only thing to do was to load my bicycle on a donkey's back, get on another myself and go ahead.

The burden of this is that Andorra is a country without roads. Every one in it rides a-horseback, or if not that, he rides a mule or a donkey, or goes a-foot. The highways are paths which follow the valleys, sometimes well up the mountain side, sometimes close down by the clear, cool mountain stream, crossing and recrossing these streams by picturesque high-arched bridges. They go around the fields, and in the villages around the houses, instead of having the fields and houses placed in reference to them. Often they are filled with stone and rocks varying as to largeness from the size of chestnut coal to that of good big cabbages. Walking is bad, while it would be quite impossible to ride or push a bicycle. A bicycle, of course, could be picked up and carried, but such a task, especially if the bicycle had fifteen to twenty pounds of baggage on it, would be likely to make one forget the joy of traveling.

Such are the main highways in Andorra. The secondary highways are even

more remarkable. In one place I followed path for two hours which was nothing more than roughly constructed stone steps zigzagging up the mountain side. At the end of these steps I found myself on a sloping shelf containing a hundred acres

A STREET IN THE VILLAGE OF ANDORRA Andorra is the capital of the republic, but some of its streets have stone steps cut in the mountain side

or so of tillable grain land with a small pilgrimage chapel, a pretty little lake and three patriarchal homesteads.

For some distance up these steps, I was accompanied by an Andorran and his donkey. The donkey carried a heavy load on his back, but he took the steps quite as easily as I. At the first fork, master and donkey turned off to the right. They were going to another little shelf on the mountain side farther along, or perhaps to a forest camp or a shepherd's hut.

Often these Andorran paths are steeper than steep stairs. In places they lead along the edges of precipices. Almost always they are so narrow that it is just possible for two animals to pass in meeting. One Andorran I met on one of these steep and narrow paths was taking four young horses home to pasture. He had bought them at the live-stock fair down at Ax, and his manner of handling singlehanded all four horses was interesting. To drive them was obviously impossible, and it was also impossible to lead all of

them. Here is what he was doing. He was leading one. The second was tied to the tail of the first; the third to the tail of the second, and the fourth to the tail of the third. In this style of Indian file, man and horses were traveling over mountain trails where the uninitiated would find it dizzy and difficult work to go with his hands free to help his feet.

Andorra consists of one main valley and several smaller tributary valleys lying among overtowering mountains. Many of these mountains are well wooded near their tops. Below the forests the mountain sides are used for the most part for pasturing goats, sheep and cattle. Lower down there is some terracing. These terraces and the bottoms of the valleys are irrigated and planted largely to tobacco. There are, however, some meadows, and these were beautifully green in the middle of September when I was there. Near the village of Andorra they were just cutting a crop of hay. This hay an Andorran gets to his barn either on his own back or on the back of his horse, mule or donkey. The animal wears a rack, and when loaded the combination looks like a small stack of hay on four spindle legs. Close at hand, the nose of the animal can be discovered at one end of the stack, and it looks not unlike the head of a turtle when drawn well back under its shell.

From time immemorial the Andorrans have been famous smugglers, and to-day the smuggling of tobacco is one of the most lucrative professions in the country. It is, however, confined to young men, for it is strenuous work. French and Spanish patrols watch the Andorran frontier day and night. To get into France, I was told, is difficult and dangerous work, while entering Spain is an uncertain matter. A young man takes a load of tobacco on his back, and, avoiding all paths and trails where he would be most likely to run into patrols, he often scales the highest mountains and in this way gets down into Spain. Spain. Should he find himself within sight of a Spanish patrol, he does not run but sits down on the ground and waits for the patrol to approach. When the latter is as near as the rules of the game permit (a certain distance has been established as proper by long custom), he stops, and, leaning against his gun, gazes over at the Andorran. The Andorran

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In the foreground is the village of Las Escaldas. Across the valley, which is planted with olives and tobacco, is the

village of Andorra, the capital of the country

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