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ceed in fulfilling the obligations of this contract. If, for any reason, she fails, the probabilities are that she will go under a protectorate, and naturally an English protectorate.

The United States has its responsibility in relation to Liberia. Certainly its government and people can not be released before the civilized world from their moral obligation to this child of American philanthropy and planning. We are in the midst of marvelous times in the development of the continent of Africa, and in these same times America has come

and civilized. and civilized. Among the negroes in America there will be many who will want an outlet for adventure and commerce, and, if proper opportunity is given, to Africa they will naturally turn.

American sympathy and coöperation extended now to Liberia is a manifest duty. The commerce between the United States and Africa is in its infancy and in fifty years ought to go to $100,000,000. America has no territorial designs upon the continent of Africa. She is the friend of all, and her relation of friendly coöperation is well understood.

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I

THE YOUNG MAN STRENUOUS

I.-"GREENWAY OF YALE"

AN OLD COLLEGE ATHLETE WHO IS MAK

ING INDUSTRIAL HISTORY IN THE NORTH
(See portrait or page 9)

BY

CLARA CHAPLINE THOMAS

F there is at hand a very late map of Minnesota, a map of not more than six months' vintage, a dot will appear in Itasca County on the highlands of the United States, where if one turn his sled to the southward he would land in Louisiana, granted that the coasting were good all the way, or if to the north, in Hudson. Bay, provided he were not stalled in a snowdrift. That dot marks the center of what is fast becoming the greatest iron-ore mining district of the world, and the location of the model town of the Northwest. And it is named Coleraine.

Rhythmically back and forth swing the huge steam-shovels doing the work of a hundred men at a stroke. In and out of the mine pit rush the shrieking engines, panting impatiently when, for a brief moment, they have to pause for the cars to be loaded. With the mechanical sureness of the one, and the restless impatience of the other, John C. Greenway, the man who in such a brief while has transformed a peaceful, fragrant pinewoods into the likeness of a vast tract convulsed by an earthquake, traverses every foot of "the work" on his handsome bay horse directing present operations.

On the books of the United States Steel Corporation, Mr. Greenway appears as its iceroy in this district, but on the unwriten books of Minnesota's history he apars as the czar of the western Mesabi on range.

"When Greenway gets an idea that a ing ought to be done, that's all there is it," remarked one of his assistants. "He s a way of making people do things

whether they want to or not. It's because they know he's on the square.'

Everybody on the Mesabi knows that he is on "the square, he is on "the square," and through this there has grown up a most unique paternalism.

"Does the steel corporation own this section of the country, body and soul?" was the query put to one of Mr. Greenway's men when it appeared in answer to questions that "the company" with a most uncorporation-like philanthropy had reserved the site for the library, erected a perfectly equipped hospital, built a seventy-five thousand dollar school, donated land for parks, provided an exceptionally fine field for athletics in the warmer months and a slide for skeeing during the season of snow and was establishing sewer, water and electric systems. "No," was the reply, "Greenway does.' "Isn't that about the same thing?" The questioner was rewarded with a swift glance of displeasure. "Not much. He's a good mixer, but he won't merge.

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It was true. The sole solvent of the capital and labor problem is bringing results on the Mesabi range; Mr. Greenway has been able to prove to the company which he represents that their interests are identical with the interests of the body of employees, and to persuade his men that the converse is equally true.

John C. Greenway began doing things when he "made the team" in his freshman year at Yale in '91. Thereafter as right end on the famous elevens of '92 and '93, as catcher on the nine for Carter, old Eli's great pitcher, and as presi

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The Connecticut is the best and latest type of battle-ship and will be Admiral Evans' flag-ship in the voyage of the great fleet to the Pacific. The view is taken from the Brooklyn Bridge as the Connecticut was leaving New York Harbor

I

I.-"GREENWAY OF YALE"

AN OLD COLLEGE ATHLETE WHO IS MAK

ING INDUSTRIAL HISTORY IN THE NORTH
(See portrait on page 9)

BY

CLARA CHAPLINE THOMAS

F there is at hand a very late map of Minnesota, a map of not more than six months' vintage, a dot will appear in Itasca County on the highlands of the United States, where if one turn his sled to the southward he would land in Louisiana, granted that the coasting were good all the way, or if to the north, in Hudson. Bay, provided he were not stalled in a snowdrift. That dot marks the center of what is fast becoming the greatest iron-ore mining district of the world, and the location of the model town of the Northwest. And it is named Coleraine.

Rhythmically back and forth swing the huge steam-shovels doing the work of a hundred men at a stroke. In and out of the mine pit rush the shrieking engines, panting impatiently when, for a brief moment, they have to pause for the cars to be loaded. With the mechanical sureness of the one, and the restless impatience of the other, John C. Greenway, the man who in such a brief while has transformed a peaceful, fragrant pinewoods into the likeness of a vast tract convulsed by an earthquake, traverses every foot of "the work" on his handsome bay horse directing present operations.

On the books of the United States Steel Corporation, Mr. Greenway appears as its viceroy in this district, but on the unwritten books of Minnesota's history he appears as the czar of the western Mesabi iron range.

"When Greenway gets an idea that a thing ought to be done, that's all there is to it," remarked one of his assistants. "He has a way of making people do things

whether they want to or not. It's because they know he's on the square."

Everybody on the Mesabi knows that he is on "the square," and through this there has grown up a most unique paternalism.

"Does the steel corporation own this section of the country, body and soul?" was the query put to one of Mr. Greenway's men when it appeared in answer to questions that "the company" with a most uncorporation-like philanthropy had reserved the site for the library, erected a perfectly equipped hospital, built a seventy-five thousand dollar school, donated land for parks, provided an exceptionally fine field for athletics in the warmer months and a slide for skeeing during the season of snow and was establishing sewer, water and electric systems. "No," was the reply, "Greenway does.' "Isn't that about the same thing?" The questioner was rewarded with a swift glance of displeasure. "Not much. He's a good mixer, but he won't merge.

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It was true. The sole solvent of the capital and labor problem is bringing results on the Mesabi range; Mr. Greenway has been able to prove to the company which he represents that their interests are identical with the interests of the body of employees, and to persuade his men that the converse is equally true.

John C. Greenway began doing things when he "made the team" in his freshman year at Yale in '91. Thereafter as right end on the famous elevens of '92 and '93, as catcher on the nine for Carter, old Eli's great pitcher, and as presi

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