A certain Mr. J. S. Garden, secretary of the Sydney Trades and Labour Council, and a gentleman who only a few months ago was considered quite one of the out-and-outers amongst the doctrinaires. who seek to reform the world by} having the gutters running with blood (I think that is the exact humanitarian phrase), was appointed a delegate to attend the conference of the Third International in Moscow. Whether he expected to be prevented from going i cannot say, but it is certain that there was as much plotting and whispering about his departure, and quite as audible to the whole community, as there is about the hatching of a desperate piece of villainy on the stage. However, Comrade Garden went away; some say he disguised himself as a trimmer, and others that he went by a false name. Possibly the first story is true, but -it is not coal aboard ship that he has trimmed, but his political sails. A short time ago we were reading some quite exciting truths he had been telling the comrades in Russia, and amongst other things we learned for the first time that the Austr-} allan Labour party is ruled by Communists. Now Mr. Garden has returned, and he is welcomed by, Tom Walsh, the leader of the militant seamen, and interviewed by the press, and in general treated quite as one of our most respected citizens returned from a Continental tour. Mr. Garden is perfectly frank. He thinks it may shock some of his un travelled friends, but he has completely changed his opinions. Instead of the Russians ing free and enlightened torchbearers for the rest of humanity, he speaks of the way they carry on their industries as something that would not be tolerated in Australia. "Australia must formulate a poli to suit her own needs rather than seek one elsewhere," said Mr.
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.