PERTINENT INFORMATION. The enclosed circulars, sent out by the American Federation of Labor, explain the status of the journeymen's tailors' union label and the label of the United Garment Workers of America:

Washington, D. C., April 28, 1915. To the Officers and Members of the National and International Unions, State and City Central Bodies.

Dear Sirs and Brothers:

At the meeting of the Executive Council of the American Federation of Labor, held at headquarters April 19-24, the representatives of the United Garment Workers of America entered a complaint against the Journeymen Tailors' Union of America for using the union label of the tailors upon ready-made clothing and clothing made by the seceding faction of the United Garment Workers of America. Secretary Tracy of the Union Label Trades' Department of the American Federation of Labor also entered a complaint against the Journeymen Tailors' Union for violation of trade union principles in permitting such an unwarranted use of the union label of that organization.

It was called to the attention of the Executive Council that the official journal of the journeymen tailors officially confirms such improper and illegitimate use of their label by the seceding faction of the garment workers, which is contrary to the laws of the Journeymen Tailors' Union, which forbids the use of that label by any person not a member of that organization.

This being the case where the tailors' label has been granted by the Journeymen Tailors' Union and used by the seceders from the United Garment Workers of America in flagrant violation of the declaration and the mandates of the Philadelphia convention of the American Federation of Labor, the Executive Council of the American Federation of Labor hereby cancels and withdraws the endorsement of the label of the Journeymen Tailors' Union of America.

President Gompers was directed to notify the general secretary of the Journeymen

Tailors' Union of America and all central bodies, national and international unions, that the endorsement heretofore given to the label of the Journeymen Tailors' Union of America is canceled and withdrawn and shall so stand until the Journeymen Tailors' Union complies fully with the decisions of the Philadelphia convention, to-wit, resume by referendum vote their former title, "The Journeymen Tailors' Union of America," and cease to trespass on the jurisdiction of any other union in the clothing industry. Upon proper compliance by the Journeymen Tailors' Union the president of the American Federation of Labor is directed to restore the endorsement of the American Federation of Labor to the label of the Journeymen Tailors' Union of America.

Secretary Morrison was directed to continue to hold in his possession any money forwarded by the Journeymen Tailors' Union and not to credit the same upon the books of the American Federation of Labor until the tailors comply with the direction of the Philadelphia convention to resume by referendum vote their former and proper title, the Journeymen Tailors' Union of America, and cease to trespass on the jurisdiction of any other union, and stop all moral and financial support of, or affiliation with, the seceding faction of the United Garment Workers of America, and that upon proper compliance by the Journeymen Tailors' Union all moneys be placed to the credit of the Journeymen Tailors' Union without prejudice of any kind whatever.

President Gompers was directed to publish in the Weekly News Letter a copy of the several actions taken by the Executive Council of the conditions existing in the tailors' union, also in circular to be sent to each national and international union, state and city central body connected with the American Federation of Labor, and also to each local union of the Journeymen Tailors' Union and the United Garment Workers of America.

President Gompers was directed to confer and to meet with the United Hebrew

Trades of New York for the purpose of having that body cease its harboring and supporting seceding garment workers located in New York City, and upon failure of that body to comply with the laws of the American Federation of Labor, the decisions and declarations of the Philadelphia convention of the American Federation of Labor, all international unions having locals in New York represented in the United Hebrew Trades be required to direct such local unions to withdraw from the United Hebrew Trades.

The above is communicated to you as the official and authoritative action of the Executive Council of the American Federation of Labor in regard to the course to be pursued by organized labor in the unfortunate condition in which the tailoring and garment working trades have been plunged by a willful perversion of trade union principles to the great detriment of the workers in the trade.

The Executive Council aims to be of practical and efficient service to all the toilers of America, and, in this instance, to the workers in the tailoring and garment working industry, and holds itself in readiness to do any and every honorable thing to help the organization disentangle itself from the present intolerable situation.

The officers of the central labor unions will please bring this matter to the attention of their respective unions at the next regular meeting.

Trusting that I may hear from you in regard to the above matter at your convenience, I am,

Fraternally yours,

SAMUEL GOMPERS, President American Federation of Labor.

Attest:

FRANK MORRISON,

Secretary American Federation of Labor.

LABOR'S HOPE IS ORGANIZATION. Labor's successful struggle for child labor laws and for women's eight-hour laws are eloquent testimonials to the cause of trade unionism and should close the mouths of the shallow critics and political lunatics who are eternally howling in season and out of season for labor to become more active politically. It emphasizes what President Gompers says, that "organized labor is partisan to a principle and not to a party."

In brief, the aim of organized labor is to serve the practical every-day needs of

its members to secure the eight-hour day. A living wage and sanitary work shops is a part of the curriculum of the trade unions of the nation. They do not deal with abstract theories; their mission is to get results and they believe in adhering to and, at times, practicing the admonition of the Apostle Paul, "be all things to all men," but true to labor.

Can a cause with such a mission be smothered? Conscientious love for the eternal principles of fair play and the prayers of the mothers of the race say "No." A thousand times "No." The misguided captains of industry might as well attempt to cross the Pacific in a wheelbarrow; to sweep back the waves of the ocean with a whisk broom or to change the planets in their course as to try to prevent the workers of the world from combining for mutual protection.

Organization is the only salvation for the world's workers. Through organization they become stronger physically, mentally and morally-because it lessens the hours of toil, increases the earning capacity, at the same time giving more leisure to read and study the problems of life. The trade union is a moral and mental gymnasium for the workers of the world and has done and is still doing more to protect and promote the interests of the people that need it most than any other or all other institutions combined.

Labor's struggle is no picnic! It is a man's game that you are engaged in. A tug of war, and you haven't got time to let go and examine your hands, for if you do the other fellow will get something away from you.

Eternal vigilance is not only the price of liberty, but it is the price of everything that is worth having. For example: An eight-hour day, a living wage, sanitary workshops, protection from dangerous machinery, and the removal of every unjust law or practice that deprives the workers of their freedom or robs them of the fruits of their toil.

To secure these laudable ends we must be vigilant; we must not only be in the union, but must have the union in us. A stove without a fire is of no use on a cold day. We must start a fire in the stove and it will then do the work for which it was designed.

A card man or a card woman is of but little value to the labor movement. Their strongest asset is to pay dues and assess

ments under protest and otherwise retard the progress of the cause.

The fellow with the union in him is the live wire, the hot stove, the one who is ready and willing to work on committees and give the best that is in him to promote the general uplift of the men and women of labor.

If you are really in earnest in this crusade, if you have enlisted in this army to fight for your own and others' rights, you should not be among those who loaf in the tents as did the children of Israel, and grumble at the leaders.

If you wish to establish the eight-hour day, work for your organization. If you wish to take the children out of the sweat shops, work for organization. If you wish to put money into the pay envelope, work for ørganization. If you wish for more humane laws, work for organization. In short, if you are willing to lend a hand in the grandest movement, the most righteous cause that has engaged the efforts of men from time immemorial, work in season and out of season, giving your best endeavors to build up and encourage organization-for thereby you will help to answer labor's questions and to solve labor's problems.-International Stereotypers' and Electrotypers' Journal.

BY RIGHT OF POSSESSION. "Pap" Humphrey stated at the village store that the railroad was not going to cross his quarter section, which he entered from the government. He didn't "want no railroad," and "by gum!" he wasn't "goin' to have none!" His land was his'n, had been ever since the Indians vamoosed, and he'd like to see the color of the man's hair that could take it away from him.

The fellows who were sitting about the store-front at old Bloomington laughed and said they guessed he'd let it go when the court said so.

"Pap" Humphrey was a short, graywhiskered man who belonged to that noble army of American musketeers of '46. He believed a man who had followed Zachary Taylor chasing greasers had some vested rights which no railroad could take from him, and one of these was his home. What warrant had those sleek, fat fellows to come around where he had lived always and tell him what he had to do? Hadn't he been here contemporaneous with the bear, the deer, the wildcat and the panther, and hadn't he even seen the marks of the

Indians? When the snows piled deep over the wilderness and the terrible gales had roared out of the North, he had "set tight with the job," while these smart-Alecs, if they'd been alive they would be toasting their feet at a grate fire in some big city, where they didn't have no hair-raising blizzards.

This country was young then and it needed men. So "Pap" Humphrey, young and strong like these railroad fellers, had gone out and "blazed the way." Where was the old guard? Would that Zach Taylor and a few of his swashbucklers were here to prevent this outrage on an old soldier!

So reasoned "Pap" to himself, and so he talked to the quiet little woman who shared his log cabin home with him, and who thought just as he did on everything. Children all gone now, except a girl who slept hard-by, under a little mound that had a rose bush at the head. The others were married and having troubles of their own without bothering them 'bout this 'ere railroad business.

Joe Stanfield, right-of-way man for the Gulf & Northwestern Railroad, had done his best to reason with "Pap," but had not succeeded. The old man's head was set on the same principle of eternal justice that impelled our revered sires to toss that tea into Boston Bay. That's the way he looked at it, and, besides, there was little Martha, the one sleeping under the rose bush, and while he could squint out to the brass sight of old "Betsy," no human hand should profane that spot.

And Martha, the living, smiled sadly, and nodded her old white head over her knitting.

The right-of-way had been pretty well settled up. There were some condemnation proceedings pending in the court. Construction work was booming along. Short switch engines were butting dump cars around the beautiful valley, marring it with their tar-like smoke and profaning noise; scraper teams, steam shovels and concrete mixers helped in the din.

Finally the contractors were at the dead line. So was "Pap," every whisker bristling, "Betsy" resting familiarly on his left arm. Sitting on a nearby log was Martha, entirely unruffled. She was knitting, seeming to pay attention to nothing else. Her features were as calm and pleasant as at church.

"Well, old man," said the chief contractor,

a wide-out, healthy looking individual, "we'll be on you this afternoon; you'd better make terms."

Stanfield, the right-of-way man, was standing not far away.

"Ain't goin' to have no railroad run crost my land," declared "Pap," as he stopped and looked the other man squarely in the face.

"We'll see about that," returned the contractor. "What are you going to do with that gun?"

"That's my 'Betsy,'" replied "Pap," with pride. "I used to use her as protection 'gainst greasers. Now————”

Suddenly the big contractor jumped and seized old "Betsy." "Pap" clung on like a wildcat, but the other man was the larger and stronger. He would have eventually wrested the weapon from the old man if something hadn't happened. The quiet wife, Martha, who saw everything, dropped her knitting and ran to her husband's assistance. She jabbed a knitting needle hard into the contractor's hand, which made him let loose. In a moment she was the sole possessor of old "Betsy," and was pointing it steadily at the contractor.

"Be off,' she said.

Stanfield and the other men laughed. The contractor wound a handkerchief around his bleeding hand.

"It's up to you, Stanfield," he growled, "to get us across there. Our contract does not require us to fight our way through."

"To be sure not," agreed Stanfield, who was still smiling. "I hope none of us will have to do any fighting."

Martha surrendered "Betsy" to her husband, picked up her knitting and resumed her seat on the log.

"Mr. Humphrey," said Stanfield, goodnaturedly, "let's talk this right-of-way matter over. The railroad wants to do what's right."

"Ain't goin' to let no railroad run crost my land," declared the old man, as he held his gun up threateningly.

"We'll pay you well for the strip we need," said Stanfield, maintaining his good humor. "Look-ee here!" exploded the patriarch; "you got to stop this foolishness or somebody's goin' to get hurt! This land's mine! I took it up from the gov'ment fifty years ago! I fit the greasers 'fore you was born, and this land's what the gov'ment give me,

and I ain't goin' to let no railroad have it! So you might as well move on, Mister!"

"Steady, Pa-steady!" cautioned the gentle voice of the knitting woman, who kept on at her work without appearing to look up. "Don't go and get riled."

Stanfield, who was a high official with the road, as well as the right-of-way man, directed the contractor to stop at the edge of Humphrey's land and move his outfit over to the other side, where there was some heavy excavation and embankment work.

The construction of the grade proceeded rapidly. It had been a dry summer. The contractor on the central division had completed his part of the roadbed by October, all save that across the insurrectionary Stanfield was notified to quarter section. come out on the work and settle "that Humphrey right-of-way matter." Meanwhile Stanfield, in pursuance of the ordinary course in such matters, had started to institute condemnation proceedings against a strip of the Humphrey land, when he made curious discovery-a discovery which would be of considerable interest to the company, but which he kept to himself until he made up his mind what was best to do.

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When Stanfield arrived on the work the contractor informed him that he had not seen "Pap" patrolling his land for some days, from which he argued that the old man was concealed in ambush somewhere.

Stanfield decided to go to the house. It was an odd-looking home for the period, made of big hewn logs, chinked with cement. There was a wide passageway between the two main rooms and on each side a brick chimney. The pleasant odor of a back-log fire spiced the clear autumn air.

Back of the cabin was a smokehouse, and nearby was a sawbuck and logs, piles of chips, a well-worn grindstone and a bell to summon "Pap" to dinner when he was out in the field.

Martha stood in the wide hallway as Stanfield approached, and when he got near enough she extended her hand, while her kindly blue eyes danced with pleasure.

"Don't make no more noise than you kin help," she whispered, still holding to his hand, "'cause Pa's asleep. He ain't been well lately, and I'm a little worrit 'bout him. Let's go in the settin' room."

She pulled up a big old-fashioned rocker

for her guest, chunked up the fire and then sat down on a stool before it.

"He's been pretty poorly for some weeks," said the old lady. "He's getting old, you know, and he frets 'bout his land-'fraid they're goin' to take it from him for the railroad. Shucks!' I told him, 'it ain't wuth grievin' over. Neither you or me's goin' to stay here much longer, and the children would rather have the money than the land anyhow.' But he's curious about it-says he took it from the gov'ment, and it's his-sorter principle with him, I reckon. "I'member when 'Pap' and I come here just as well as if 'twas yisterday-funny how old folks rickerlects better what happened way back yonder than they do what happened today."

Then, while her reminiscent mood was on, she told of her marriage, starting life in the wilderness with nothing but the clothes on their backs and hopeful hearts; of how the settlers all turned out at the "house raising;" of the first hard winter, before the logs were chinked properly, and how the snow came in, and how "Pap" hustled out to the woods and chopped and chopped to keep the wide fireplaces aglow so they would not freeze; of their first Yuletide in the wilderness; how the young folks, boys and girls, on horseback and in sleds, organized a company and traveled miles and miles Christmas Eve, tooting horns, ringing bells, discharging rifles, stopping at each settler's house, surrounding it, and making such a noise as finally to force capitulation; of the cider, cakes and good things set out for the celebrators; of how the silver moon gleamed over the snowmantled prairies, and how dark the trails through the forest were, and how happy and healthy everybody was.

Then came the story of little Martha, and the old woman's voice broke, and she bowed her head in her gingham apron. "Never mind, grandma," said Stanfield, rising; I wouldn't worry over that now. Your little girl's in the good place waiting for you. Suppose you tell Mr. Humphrey I will call tomorrow-we'll let him have his nap out today."

She accompanied him to the wide barnlike space between the two rooms and again shook hands with him.

"Pa'll be a little more peart tomorrow, I reckon," she told him, "and you come 'round then, if it ain't too much trouble."

It was along about midnight when Stanfield, who was sitting near the dying campfire smoking, heard the far-off ring of a bell. It wasn't a cowbell, he felt sure. More like the bell on a country church or school, he thought, but he didn't know of any school or church in the vicinity. Suddenly in the direction from which the sound of the bell came there was a glare like a fire. "Some haystack burning," he muttered. "Been dry enough this summer to burn the earth."

There was the sound of hoofs, and presently a rider came into the camp. It was Ed Snow, one of the railroad's engineers.

"Joe!" said Snow, excitedly, "the woods over by the marsh are on fire. Lot of the scrapers and tools are over there. We'd better tell Hamilton, so he can get 'em out of the way."

Hamilton was the contractor.

Stanfield jumped up.

"Did you hear that bell, Ed?" he asked.
"Yes, but I don't know where it is."

"Well, I've got an idea it's on the Humphrey farm. You notify Hamilton and then get two of the boys to go with us. We're going to 'Pap' Humphrey's. Hurry, Ed!"

Within five minutes the camp was alive. Four men made off in the darkness, headed for the place where the bell was ringing. They ran at top speed, clearing gulleys by mighty leaps, pushing brush aside, plunging recklessly through the dark. The bell quit ringing.

"Hurry, boys!" panted Stanfield, who was in the lead.

From the top of the hill the situation was clear. For a good mile north and south the trees were on fire. It wasn't a solid wall of fire, but the chances were it soon would be.

"My God!" groaned Stanfield. right in the heart of it!"

"They're

On they went, pell-mell down one hill and up another, down and up again and then they were in it.

"Keep together, men," directed the leader. They picked their way along through avenues where the fire had not taken hold, dodging here and there, sometimes barely escaping a huge limb that fell, bringing with it a cascade of sparks. The roar of the flames prevented talking. They had entered the forest with the wind, so as to avoid the smoke as much as possible. At last they were through the forest and on the little