The Page

254 IMPROVEMENT ERA Turkey has a new Balkan problem on her eastern boundary, and a problem that is likely to give her a great deal of trouble in years to come. England and Russia have been for some years at work allotting to each other their interests in Persia (perhaps it would be more diplomatic to say, dividing up their spheres of in- fluence). This recent movement by these great powers means an exploitation of that country. It means the opening of its mineral and agricultural wealth, the establishment of railroads and the ex- tension of commerce. England and Russia will press on from the east in Persia westward into the Ottoman empire. They will under- take to compete with Germany and demand concessions that will make the eastern boundary of the Turkish empire more trouble- some even than the Balkans have been. The Turks have believed for a number of years that their interests lie with Germany, and in the language of Lord Salisbury, "They have put their money up on the Teutonic horse." The whole matter, however, has been with the Turks a gamble. Tur- key must have an alliance. On its alliance its existence has de- pended for a great number of years, and its relation to Germany has made Turkey quite as dependent upon Germany as is Austria today, although there is no definite alliance. Students of history have long believed that there has been a secret understanding between the Turks and the Germans, something perhaps in the nature of an entente.

The Page [A New Year Poem.] Another page is turned in life's great book, Another chapter finished of the tome That must, by mine own hand, completed be, Ere I, like you, Old Year, be gathered home. My finger-tips caress the fluttering leaves, ;" All indexed under title of "The Past For some are writ with sanguine ink benign, Though some bear marks that bitter tears have cast. At my right hand there lies a goodly store Of leaves uncut, and oh I wonder much !

If one or more shall yet their pages yield Unto a Future's kind or cruel touch. Then, once again, mine eyes turn toward the page Awaiting the inscription yet to be, And from my heart a prayer ascends to Him Who gives your gift to you and mine to me. Grace Ixgles Frost.