University of South Carolina Libraries
t ESESHSES5H5H5HSHHHS|SH|i ON 1 THE | gTRAcSW^ H A f sasasasasHsasasasHHHsasi & c^3?5^H5H5HSHSHSHJ5SSESc ( lllillll By si LADY ?? MAI 3 SHSHSSEHSaSHSaSESaSHSHSi ^ 5ZEESE5HFEFBS5FE5HSHSH5^ 3<V?<V C<* ?<V ?<v ?^a- C<3* ?< CHAPTER II. 2 Continued. It is true that Mrs. Denstono liad fceen a cook; that she had first entered her present husband's service by means of an advertisement, in which she described herself as a professional cook equal to any emergency. Before her arrival, Mr. Denstone had been the prey of his servants; he had never known any comfort or security. But her advenUsecured these. She made him comfortable, she fed him admirably, she nursed him kindly through a bad attack of gout, and finally, when, moved by these excellent considerations, be proposed to her, she accented hfmwith her usual stately courtesy, and she had never for one moment caused him to repent having done so. Mr. Denstone had one sister, married to a clergyman in Westmoreland, ~ r>t Thie lorlv in linnPS a ifjll VCOVUUil. 4 1UV.J , ... - ~ r ? of stopping so degrading a marriage, arrived in Liverpool by express, and poured out the vials of her wrath on poor Betsy's head. Her words were unjustifiable, and it was much to Betsy's credit that she held her tongue and never told her husband. In contrast to this was the conduct of Mrs. Denstone, of Denstone Court. She and her husband even came to the wedding. She was very kind to Betsy, even aiding her in selecting the dark color of her wedding gown, in preference to the brilliant mauve which made her healthy apple cheeks magenta in hue. To this gentle, little, careworn woman Betsy owed much useful advice and much help, and she looked upon her wit.h an amount of gratitude that was almost worship. She it was who persuaded her husband to send Reginald to Oxford. She longed to do something for her nephews; but Mr. Denstone would not hear of adopting one straight off, which was the desire of her heart. He knew his brother's weak and help V? ^ + A tncf f Vl d itss i;iidi a^ici , uc > ioutu iu sons, determined that only to one that possessed his own qualities of strength and perseverance would he extend his patronage. From this determination arose the offer of the clerkship in the Liverpool house, and when it was announced that Reginald was coming to Queen Anne's Square on a visit, good Mrs. Alfred Denstone's heart beat high with hope and expectation. The disappointment was proportionately great. Reggie was too much of a gentleman-not to be perfectly courteous to her, but he treated her with overmuch ceremony. To his uncle he was lofty, clearly showing that he considered the offered post as unworthy of his mightiness. The visit was altogether a failure. Reggie was not pressed to stay on, and his return home was speedily followed hv the letter to his father. which had so changed the course of events. Both uncle and aunt came forward to meet Arthur, and both were astonished. They had formed no great expectations, hut this tall, handsome, fair, blue-eyed young man was a great surprise to them. "Not Arthur Denstone?" said Mr. Densione, with emphasis. "Yes, Uncle Alfred, myself," he answered, blushing ingenuously; "and is this my Aunt Betsy?" And coming forward, he stooped to kiss hei4. She was so astonished she quite trembled with pleasure and surprise, kbut answered his kiss warmly. "My dear boy!" she said. She would never have said that to Reginald, and he never called her wAunt Betsy;" only with polite care, "Mrs. Alfred Denstone." Mr. Denstone brought' his nephew forward and introduced him to the G. other guest. "My Nephew Arthur?Monsieur Rigaud," and Arthur bowed rather shyly. Dinner was announced. He was desired not to dress, and obtaining permission merely to wash his hands, they went in to dinner without waiting for him. The soup had just been removed when Arthur glided into his place, and allowed himajlf to look round 'on the company in which he found himself. His heart warmed to his uncle at once. There was something honest and strong and straightforward in his look and manner of bearing himself. Aunt Betsy, dressed in V\1 n r>lr velvet anri u'aarintr a r>Qn r.f old point lace, looked very comfortable and prosperous, and Arthur liked her apple cheeks and did not think them a hit vulgar. At dinner Mr. Denstone hardly spoke to Arthur. He belonged to the old-fashioned school, and held a belief firmly enough that youth was made to listen, not to talk, but to learn; and Arthur was interested in --listening to the convei^atuui--afi->tjr ^ two elde'rs. Monsieur Rigaud excited his curiosity. He was an old man, or at all events he looked old, extraordinarily thin, so thin that the skin stretched over his forehead looked like firmly drawn, yellow parchment. His face was small and narrow, he had blue eyes overhung with thick white eyebrows, and on the cheeks and on each side of th& eyes were thousands and thousands of fine wrinkles, falling into deeper lines round the mouth, where a drawn appearance gave him the look of uncertainty, or it might be pain. Arthur was struck by his conversation. He was discussing with Mr. Denstone some of the great specula+ of innrnonf o flrnf TTn 11U1IO at biiai mvtuviiv uuvati j iv spoke with extreme shrewdness, keen observation, evidently vast experience; yet now and then some word escaped him, some sentence, some expression, which betrayed an un JsceS^'I ! ~lpmSillfjj?OTpg I certainty, an indecision probably foreign to his character. It was the same with his eye. At first sight Arthur thought, it peculiarly sharp, piercing and keen, till he observed now and then the uncertain wavering look come over it, and he drew his own conclusions. Aunt Betsy withdrew at last, and after a brief interval, Arthur begged leave to join her and leave the two old gentlemen over their coffee. Presently the two gentlemen came in, and very soon Monsieur Rigaud took leave. He turned kindly to Ar thur as he said good-nignt, ana asKen him in French whether he understood his native language. Arthur answered glibly enough, blushing as only Englishmen can blush, and the Frenchman took leave. "1 am glad to hear that you can talk French, Arthur," said his uncle. "It is a most useful branch of education. and may double your value to me." This was the first allusion he had made.to the clerkship, and it caused Arthur's heart to bound. "If you think that, sir," he said, "I will work at it; but my French is self-taught to a great degree. I can write and read, but am not a very - good hand at conversation, and Tola says my accent is barbarous.'" "We must remedy that," said Mr. Denstone rather absently; then suddenly, "That is a very remarkable man?that Monsieur Rigaud?he has a fteen, shrewd head." "Has had, 1 should have said," answered his nephew, fancying that there was an interrogatory tone in his uncle's voice. "How do you mean?" "It was a mere transient observation," said Arthur. "He gave me the impression of having lost his nerve." "Ah!" Mr. Denstone paused a moment; then he said, "You are a close observer, young man, but I fancy you have hit the right nail upon the head. Monsieur Rigaud is an enormously rich man, but he has been selling out of everything?actually everything. I don't believe he trusts the Funds." And he laughed at his own wit. "That is curious, Uncle Alfred." "Very curious; and what does he do with it? That is the puzzle." CHAPTER III. Two or three days passed, during which the liking between uncle and nephew grew satisfactorily, and as for Aunt Betsy, as she expressed it herself, "the boy made an old fool of her." Mr. Denstone called his nephew into his room one day and began to talk seriously on business matters. "The clerkship I proposed to offer you is not yet vacant, Arthur," he said. "Mr. Evans, the gentleman you are to succeed, still clings to it in spite of failing health; but it cannot be for long, and meanwhile I wish you to work at foreign languages, and to waste your time as little as possible. 1 suppose," with some hesitation, "you have not much money." "Yes. sir, thank you, I have plenj ty," said Arthur, eagerly. i "Indeed! I understood you really had none, else " and he touched the sleeve of Arthur's coat so significantly, that the color rushed into his far p. "I am sorry, sir," said he, "but that must wait a little. The money I alluded to was ten pounds Aunt Betsy gave me. She is awfully good to me." Mr. Denstone smiled. "Hum," he said. "So you call that plenty?" "You would call it plenty if you knew hew much it is going to do," said Arthur, gleefully. "Well, well; but plenty or not, you must be decently dressed. I will I order your clothcs myself, and I will now begin your salary, so that you I will start fair. But if I begin your caiarv at cnce It is on condition that ' you do not waste your Umo. which is I now mine, but work to fit yourself ! n Hi n 11 t a 11 n rl Art n ! n rvi T?*?aw c?ciiiuawj iv uuuci tuia mj i i Lutii correspondence." While they were speaking, Monsieur Rigaud was announced. Arthur would have retreated, but his uncle desired him to remain. He had been pleased with the acuteness of his observation on the night of his arrival, and he wanted to make use of it still. Monsieur Rigaud began at once. "Have you decided, my friend? If those shares are not disposed of at ! once by private contract they go into ! the market. I await your decision." "I will take them," said Mr. Denstone. "I have considered; but, TLigaud, what possesses you to part with them? They are as safe as the , Bank of England, and rising in value." i "So much the better for you," said I the Frenchman, rubbing his. thin white^Jiaiyi^_i?^t?nier, and with a ^ifciit contortion about the drawn lines of his mouth, which might have been a smile. "I do not wish to be impertinent, my friend," said Mr. Denstone, planting himself squarely upon the hearthrug, "but why this immediate demand for cash? You ha ire no spendthrift son, have you, who has been playing ducks and drakes with your money?" "No, thank Heaven! I have no son," said the old man, energetically. "I have only one child, a little daughter." 'Indeed!" said Mr. Denstone, astonished. "I never heard even that you were married." "Yes," said the old Frenchman, slowly rubbing his claw-like hands. "Yes, 1 was married once; but it not wonderful that you did not know if. 1 have lived a double life. Did you ever hear of any one before who lived two lives?" "Not I," said Mr. Denstone. "lam simple enough to prefer to be aboveboard." "Simple! Yes, you English make much of simplicity, but we, we see no merit in it. Finesse is what we admire. My Josephine never knew I was rich." "Good Heavens!" exclaimed Mr. Denstone. "And she was your lawful "Yes; but that was one of my lives," he answered, with a flash of cunning in his eyes. "We lived at home in what you call simplicity. I had my affairs in England. She made inquiries sometimes, but I did not satisfy them. After all, one does as one likes with one's own wife. Mon Repos was the best place of abode for her. Women are so strange. If she had known, tell me, would she have continued to live there? Oh, que non! It would have been all money, money, money; gowns, bonnets, equipages! Bah! I knew my own business best!" "And the poor lady lived and died under the delusion that you were ninr'" snlrt Mr. Denstone. indie nantly. "Just so. We had enough; a little, little competency. It was repose to go back there, to feel my economies; that is why I called the old house 'Mon Repos!' " Mr. Denstone felt a profound disgust at the selfishness of the old man, "And you have then a child!" hi 8aid. "She, at least, you will nest bury in such a living death; an obscure country village in the heart of France. Why, man, she would be one of the richest heiresses in England." "Yes, but she belongs to my French life?to her mother's life," said Monsieur Rigaud. "If I give up that I shall lose all security, all repose. I am not so young as I was. I hav<^an odd feeling sometimes that if she were to find it out, she would make me do as she likes, not as I wish; but she won't find it out, she belongs to my second life, don't you see?" "But eventually, my friend!" "Who cares what happens after hi? is dead? I don't. She may do asshe likes then." "But do you take no care of t-er? Where is she? How old?" "She is at school; but I shall send for her soon. I shall want to go back to my economies when I have finished all my business here. This will be the end of it all, and when I go back, I shall stay and live and enjoy my second life at Mon Repos. And this brings me to what I came to say. I want to ask you whether you will act the part of a friend, and for the last week that I am in England, let me sleep here? I shall not trouble you much in the day, as I rave business, much important business to do; but at night?Peste! I will confess my weakuess. I have grown nervous at night. I hear people whispering at my hotel. I see them glancing at me. The lock of my door is a common one; I fear to have it changed lest I excite suspicion. Doubtless you keep cash in this house?" "Yes," said Mr. Denstone, slowly, "cash and deeds." "So you have every precaution of modern invention." "I have the usual precautions, and such as they are you are welcome to them. I wish you would be advised by me, Rigaud. No money is worth this anxiety. Ycu will kill yourself, or worse." "Bah!" said the old man, with a sort of ghastly gayety. "In our peaceful Mon Repos, that abode of sacred poverty, where no domestics have lived since the Deluge, all fear leaves me. I rest and ?yes?I enjoy myself." "And your little daughter?" "The pleasure that sufficied for her mother will suffice for her. Josephine loved poultry; she reared Houdans. She sold her hens at eight franc3 each, and cocks as much as ten francs a cock. At her request I brought a few of them to England once. I sold the cocks for a guinea and the hens for ten shillings. "I deducted the price of the car I riage and gave her the money. You . would not cast a doubt on her content { had you seen her pleasure. She ' bought a pelisse of velours Anglais I for Antoinette. I "Poor lady!" said Mr. Denstone, - '"She appears to have been easily satisfied." To be Continued. The Italian Boom. It is no longer necessary tor an Italian to come to New York to make money. The home country is enjoy I ir.g a boom. The State railways show an increase of $7,500,000 in business for the first year of their operation, although the new rate card was not put in use until November. All the Italian shipyards are busy. The iron mines of Elba, which drew Napoleon's interest when he was the keen king < f the isle, are to ! bs allowed to put out 450,000 tons | of pig-iron. They hold a Government lease. I The Government surplus last year j was over $12,500,000. In the first J eleven months imports increased by j some fifteen per cent. Cotton mills are supplying prints and piece goods to Turkey, to South America, where Italian emigrants buy ortrl + A A fI'ino Uitlil) auu niuvu. J Wherever the Italian people go : Italian wines drive the French vlnt; ages from their almost exclusive hold. ! This is the case in the United States. The home yield has been low for two years, but prices hold high.?New York World. Flowers Preserved. A French experimenter, named Vercier, has succeeded in keeping certain kind.? of peonies more than three mouths in cold storage, with the flowers in fair preservation to the end of that period. Red and white China peonies, for some unknown reason, best stood the long tests. The Paris Municipal Council has contributed 3800 francs toward a monument to the late Professor Currie, the discoverer of radium. The Norwegians have whaling establishments in Iceland, Scotland, South America. Jauan and elsewhere. I To Keep Milk Sweet. m< If told that without the use of ne preservatives milk could be kept in ^r; good condition two or three weeks, most persons would say they knew as better. Cooling the milk quickly 131 and keeping it cool and clean from ^r: first to last will accomplish this end. n( ?Progressive Farmer. mi Milk Cows Needed. tio pr< It is not to be supposed that the general farmer will make a leading ^ specialty of dairying, but he should fe( keep as many milk cows as can be pr< taken care of well. With good man- ^ aeement, the farm will produce Tf practically all the feed needed to en- ~r~&1 able the cows to give a good quantity .. of milk and to improve the soil.? wg Progressive Farmer. Profit in Fowls. Ducks do not continue as profit- ^ able breeders much ' beyond the third year. Very old geese cannot be made palatable for dressed poultry. Ducks can be quickly fattened into palatable food at almost any l?c age; if taken when quite thin in flesh and fed on rich, fattening foods gr< they will fill up juicy, palatable meat agl in a few weeks and make fairly good *eE market fowls.?Farmer's Home Jour- *or ual. an gei Indigestion Doc to Many Causes. ho Indigestion may occur from many different causes, as costiveness, a too liberal supply of milk; too rich milk; ^ the furnishing of the milk of a cow ^ long after calving to a very young chj calf; allowing the calf to suck the . first milk of a cow that has been t , hunted, driven by road, shipped by rail, or otherwise violently excited; gj2 allowing the calf too long times be- ^ tween meals, so that, impelled by hunger, it quickly overloads and A clogs the stomach; feeding from a pail milk that has been held over fit, in unwashed (unscalded) buckets, so ^ that it is fermented and spoiled; feeding the milk of cows that have been ^ kept on unwholesome food; keeping ^ calves in cold, damp, dark, filthy or bad smelling pans. The licking of WQ hair from themselves or others and its formation into balls in the stomach will cause indigestion in the calf, ?Dr. David Roberts, Wisconsin State ^ Veterinarian. Care of Ewes. A sheep breeder referring to his his own experience says that breeding mj ewes should be kept in good condi- see tion but not too fat, yet a well fleshed ewe, he says, will always give the un best lamb and take care of it better after birth. In producing this flesh mo on the ewes care should be taken t,u, that they have plenty of exercise, for coc if they are fed heavily and kept in ty, close quarters, many cases of sterility fat are apt to develop. Many sheep to raisers prefer the custom of feeding i3 ] only twice a day, although at least a j small amount of roughage should ma be in the feed racks nearly all the are time. Among the common foods. ed clover hay, corn fodder, oat hay and thi millet can always be fed to advantage, although if the seed is pretty well developed in the latter it should not be fed in too great quantities. Turnips, cabbage, or any other sue- . e culent crops are almost a necessary factor in profitable sheep feeding, 00 although their use can partially be J1 , done away with where the silo is on a' the farm. Too much silage or any . other succulent food is liable to pro- 'n duce weak lambs, but a small amount i , fell J fed once a day will prove highly IJfeneflcial.?Indiana Farmer. a! of ^ me oiiage rroin ui) ruuucr. One of the main advantages of ^rs silage is its palatability and the jts cleanness with which it is consumed {as by animals. There is practically no anj waste. It is now found that silage ^ea can be made from dry fodder as well ing as from green stuffs. "A number of per successful experiments have been ^ made along this line," said one of the to dairymen of the Department of Ag- nuI riculture, notably at the Delaware pu| Experiment Station. The idea seems we to have been suggested from the ex- (jm cellent results which followed from roc | packing out fodder in a box and soi] i moisten ins it with hot water, and j.at j then allowing it to stand for twenty- ma iour nuurs. vviui mis, uuuuiiseeu meal could be effectively mixed. This, however, was too expensive for gen- tlli] eral feeding practices. The plan was ; carried a step further, and a silo tilj i filled with cut dry fodder and then wh( I wet down, which induced subsequent j j fermentation. A rise in temperature ^ ensued, and the development of an ^ j aromatic odor as in the case of green ^ 1 ^ : silage. The cows preferred this arti- ^ ! ffcial ensilage to the dry shredded | fodder, and both old and young stock , 1 ate it up clean. ]t is reported to be a better and safer mass to use in con- j junction with cottonseed meal than j is dry fodder, for the reason that the | meal adheres to the damp fodder, I mastication is insured, and there is ^.r j no danger from impaction of the t meal. j gen The Composition of Eggs. If the poultry keefper know*: the "Y.t, ; composition of Qggw lie will better I understand how to-feed to furnish 1 the proper food elements needed to ^ produce them. Scientists have found, . e after many analyses, that eggs con- m tain about fifty per cent, water, seventeen per cent, protein and thirtythree per cent, carbohydrates. There is only a6out twice as much hou carbohydrates 16 protein, while in most grain there are from six to ten " times as much/ Wheat 1mm, which " is considered /very rich in protein, fact contains moiV than three times as " much carbohydrates as protein, it?' "\X7ViQof nnnfniic nonrlv limps 51 <5 '* 'much; oats,/five times; com, nine j smc times, and lavley, eis'at times. Oil . Dea ii. i\ ial, on the other hand, contains arly as much protein as carbohyates; gluten meal, one and oneird times as much carbohydrates protein; cottonseed meal, twice as ich; cow's milk, nearly as much; ied blood, fifty-two times as much; ( ;at meal, nearly thirty times as j ich. i When it is desired to make a ra- I n of any of the grains for the aduction of eggs, it can be seen it it is necessary to mix with any 1 them some of the concentrated | ?ds which contain a great deal of atein. Thus, if wheat is fed, meat :al should be taken into the ration, i corn is made the bulk of the grain tion, a liberal amount of dried >od should also be fed. Since iter makes up a half of the con- ; mption of eggs, it is essential that 3 laying hens have an abundance clean water at all times of the y.?Weekly Witness. Pea Fowls For the Bare. In answer to a subscriber, Wale's Farmer says: The peacock has for so long been : Dwn only for its beauty of plum- ' e rather than for its table excelice that it is considered not a fowl the farm but rather for the park d lawn. Pea fowls make very atle pets, and if well cared for and 11 fed they will remain about the use and lawn; if neglected, they re after the manner of turkeys, e cocks have been known to at;k children, and both cocks and as are very quarrelsome with Ickens, sometimes killing and eat; newly hatched chicks. Like turys, the cock is mated to from three six hens. They do not reach full e until two years old, and make j best breeders, after that age. e hen begins to lay in March or ril, and carries her young the ene year. Pea fowls cannot be pro* ibly raised under hens, as they are ,st ready for weaning when the icken hen leaves them. The young icks are raised on the same diet 'en to turkeys. They seem to re- , ire live animal food of some kind, rms, bugs, grasshoppers, etc. When ? hen is ready for mating, along in bruary, she beats off her chicks, ring to the immense quantity of j others which the peacock has to i lew at molting time, this season [ very hard on him, and he requires undant nourishment. The loss of i beautiful plumage seems to huliate bis excellency greatly; he :ks secluded places out of sight of > mates, and remains in seclusion til the molt is over. A. young pea fowl of either sex is re delicious eating than a turkey, t the day when the brains of peaks was a favorite dish for royaland when "The carcasses of three wethers were bruised for gravy I make sauce for a single peacock" long since past. Pea fowls will eat anything, _and y be fed as other poultry. They long-lived, instances being recordof pea fowls reaching the age of rty years. Handling the Manure. :t has come to be understood very 11 that the manure on the farm one of the things to be carefully keel after and properly nanuieci. referring to this matter Hoard's Iryraan says: is it better to let manure remain | the barnyard in large heaps and ll it out twice a year, spring and I, or is it best to haul it as fast j made? What are the advantages the latter system? We must rember that the manure is never rich in fertilizing value as when t made. It must T/aste some of value anyway, but hauled out as t as made, it wastes less than in r other way. If piled in large ' ps under shelter, it wastes, accordto recent experiments, eighteen , cent. If piled up in the open air, , vastes 21.7 per cent. From spring | ; tan we are oDiigea to let tne ma- j i e accumulate in the barnyard, j : t to prevent as much as possible, ' : sprinkle over it twice or three I ; es a week, ground phosphate i k. We want the phosphate in the . I, and we want to prevent evapo- ; ion, while there is nothing that j ( kes the phosphate more available ; 1 n the fermentation of organic j ] Iter. So we accomplish three l ' tigs in this way. But from the | J e the cattle are stabled in the fall j the ground is too soft for wagon j ^ eels in spring, the manure is ? iled daily to the fields that are j be plowed for corn. Phe advantages of this system are: I The manure is hauled and spread ! < on the labor will cost the least. I We have the clean barnyards. , We secure the least loss from mentation and evaporation. ror the summer accumulation, we I the largest value in hauling it J on to alfalfa or clove: sod in the ! , plowing it under at once. On > land we plant either corn or po- j )es the next spring. f 3ut the wise farmer will make 1 erous provision for the keeping c of fertility in his land. He will 1 be afraid to buy commercial fer- J sers like ground phosphate rock, I k jlow under in the fall a good stand clover or alfalfa. Every dollar n spends in this way will bring ten v return. s I) A Color Scheme. <1 What color did you paint your | b se?" o Herring." d Herring?"' Yes. 1 live near a number of :ories." Well, what lias that tc do with ^ ? < ! O Why, I knew herring looked well n: iked.'1?From the Cleveland Plaiq ic Ier. j h THE SUNDAY SCHOOL. INTERNATIONAL LESSON COM. MENTS FOR JANUARY 20. Snbject: Jesus Cleanseth the Temple, John 2:13-22?Golden Text1, Psalm 93:5?Commit Verses 15, 16?Commentary. TIME.?27 A. D. PLACii.?Jerusalem. EXPOSITION.?I. The zeal of Thine house hath eaten Me up, 13-17? Jesus was an obedient Son of the law and went up to the passover according to the commandment (Deut. 16:16; Luke 2:41). He found In the temple men selling oxen, sheep and doves, and also changers of money. A similar state of affairs can be found in many churches to-day. All these things had something to do with the temple services, but it was being carried on for private gain^and Jesus was greatly displeased. Tne aerense of buying and selling in the hou3e of God often made to-day is that all this bias to do with the support of worship. But this does not make it- right in God's sight, as is plainly taught by Lhis lesson. Jesus put it all out of the temple in no gentle manner. If He were to go to-day to our places of worship with our fairs and festivals and auctioneers of pews, etc., etc., doutbtless He would put them out also and would be no more gentle than He was with vhese ancient defilers of the house of God. It was not the force that there was in the scourge of cords, nor the muscular energy that Jesus displayed that drove these defllers out. It was the majesty of His presence and the consciousness on their part that they had no business there. Gentleness and thoughtful consideration for even the i birds were mingled with His severity; He did not drive cut those who sold the doves, but simply bade their owners carry them out. He gives a reason for His action, namely, that God's house should not be made a house of merchandise. How many that profess to be followers of Jesus have forgotten these words of their Master. In the use of the words, "My Father's house," He shows His right to act as He did. It was His Father's house and it was His business to cleanse it. The cleansing of the temple was only temporary. All these things were brought back again (Luke 19:45). All religious reforms among men are temporary. Man is prone to backsliding and we cannot live to-day in the power of a reformation wrought twenty years ago. Every new generation must have its own reformation and every new year must have its own revival. When Jesus cleansed the temple a second time He was even more severe. He said that they had made the house of God a den of robbers instead of a house of prayer (Luke 19:46, R. V.). Men in their defiling of God's house thus go from bad to worse. At a later date the disciples in recalling this incident saw in it a fulfillment of Old Testament prophecy regarding the Messiah (v. 17; cf. Ps. 69:9). , It was zeal for His Father's house that constrained Jesus to the present action. Is it zeal for God's house or is it zeal for our own ideas that constrains some of us tc attacks upon the modern defilement of the house of God? IT. The sign that Jesns was the Messiah, 18-22. Both the disciples and the Jews recognized in Jesus' otonmnHnTi nf anthnHtv and in Hip words, "My Father's house*" (v. 16), a claim to be the Messiah. The Jews at once demanded a sign to back up this claim. Jesus gave them a sign, a sign which they did hot understand at the time, the sign of the resurrec* J tion (v. 19; cf. Matt. 12:38-40; 16:1-4) j His resurrection from the dead is God's seal to all the claims oi Jesus. The resurrection ? of Jesus from the dead is one of the best proven facts of history, and it proves everything that is essential in Christianity. It is God's seal upon Jesus Christ's claim to be a teacher sent from God who spoke the very words of God (ch. 7:16; 12:49; 14:10, 11, 24). It is God's seal upon Jesus Christ's claim to be a divine person in a unique sense (ch. 5:22, 23; 10:30; 14:9; Mark 12:6, R. V.). It Is God's seal upon Jesus Christ's claim that He was to be the judge ol the world (ch. 5:22, 23, 28, 29). Not even the disciples of Jesus understood His words at the time, but after His resurrection they remembered them and they served to confirm theii faith, as well they might. The final outcome was that the disciples believed the Scripture and the word Which Jesus had said, i. e., they believed the Old Testament Scriptures which prophesied these things and the words of Jesus upon which God had set the stamp of His own-endorsetaent. Happy is the man to-day who believes the Old Testament Scriptures and the word which Jesua speaks. Jesus' miracles at tMs time led many to believe in Him, bat Jesus saw the superficial character of their faith and did not believe in them (vs. 23-25, R. V.). When men believe in Tesus with that true and saving faith ?? V? i ^ l-? lnn/ln in t V) OTY1. wiiii:u itauo kugui iu uvuiunb serves to Him, then and only then 3oes He commit Himself to them. LEADING QUESTIONS. ? What ?haraeteristics of Jesus come out in this lesson? What fulfillment of rtrophecy is there in the lesson? What ;ins of the modern church are rejuked by this lesson? What does the esson teach about the resurrection of Christ? How did the disciples show :heir wisdom? What is the best lesson in the passage? It is God's. Government is the lamp. Public >pinion is the oil. Leadership is the ight. The mystery of the combustior clones to God.?Home Herald, Would Extoriniuatc Deer. Elisha B. Brown, one of Dover's wealthiest men and president of two lanks, in an open letter advocates he abolition of the closed season for leer in New Hampshire and their mmediate extermination on the grounds; of humanity unless tbe game aws ate changed to permit the use if rifles in hunting them and the prolibition" of shotguns. Mr. Brown, vho is agent for the New Hampshire Society for the Prevention of Cruelty o Animals, says that many pitiful ase.? are reported to him of mutilated and maimed deer seen i,n the 'oods and fields, suffering from gunhot wounds. He has repeatedly ieen asked to interfere, and says hat under the law he "is helpless to ct. though he knows of deer with rnken legs, jaws shot away and with ther frightful wounds living for ays. Six Pairs of Tivinc isn? I At Goodhue, Miss., Mrs. A. Rosner ecame the mother of her sWth pair f twins since IS98. She is now the .other of twenty-five children. Pres- . lent Roosevelt was at once notified < y the proud father. T jf - 3? v ' .. " ; _______________^ '--V ??????^?^? v^ j SUNDAY Thoughts AFTERNOON T of Noted READING. Divines. ! i i SPIRIT LONGINGS- ' Lord of all power and might, I cry to Thw, ? Breakjoose each captive chain and .set me No more the slave of sin, but wholly Thine; Kept for Thyself alone, Saviour Divine! ^ Wayward and -weak am I, I cannot stand In mine unaided strength: take Thou my hand. By Thine almighty power do Thou upbojd. And in Thine arms of love Thy child enfold. -3 Through life's rough wilderness lead me aright. Guide, Lord, my falt'ring steps through , | darksome night: Oive me the trusting heart, without a fear. I Content to walk by faith, since Thou art near. . -Jim, Willing to follow Thee, to heed, to obey; Willirpr to work or wait, to go or stav: Ever Thv willing slave, thus would I De V With "olden chains of Love bound e'er to 1 Thee. I ?Ruth Thomas, in London Christian. >J The Great DWerence. , ^ Who, when He was reviled, reviled . /, not again??I. Peter, 2:23. '1 V If you should see one mr.n slan another across the month you would instantly wait with eager expectancy . 0, for the return blow from the smitten: one, and if it did not come you woulff deanise him. If, in your presence, one man spat In tbe face of another man and the- ?g Dutrage were not promptly resented: you would characterize the second man as a base coward; if the lie were- * received unchallenged he who accept- j ed the stigma would be viewed with contempt as unworthy of respect or consideration. You would entertain- . .-Is feelings of overwhelming scorn and* \ 2# disgust toward the insulted in every- . :ase. They would be hell to haveforfeited their manhood, their honor,. V h; t>y a base and Ignoble submission. Humanity could scarce think otherwise of them. The other day a little deaf mntfr r o irirl 4n wiv unntrracrsHnn nraaantblf 3 h" I I" ?u; VUUJit^BHWU MIVtWVUVVM .} herself at service with her little head" '5 a mass of bandages. When I learned" that she had been-ruthlessly and* wantonly attacked by a brutal young" man who had actually struck her on j the forehead with a sharn -stone, T fairly ached to get hold of the wretch- * ; sd degenerate; and every one who? 3 saw the girl and heard the story J shared in my desire. You share it aow as you read. We would not be- y . ?,] normal men and women if we did not bave these feelings to which I have- i illuded. They are what is called' 'natural" under the circumstances. Yet there was One who was buffet- *> sd by men's hands, in whose face men spat, who was branded as a liar, a blasphemer, a drunkard, upon whom ?very conceivable insult was heaped,. j who was finally crucified, who bore- j ill these things without return, without repine, without resentment. Ar - i sheep berore ner snearers is aumo, i >o He opened not His month; He gave J His back to the smiter; He drank the- j :up of trembling to the dregs without 4 i Word; He suffered all things with-; ym jut a murmur.- ' 'l Nevertheless, He stands before hu~ -J manity as the highest exemplar of nobility and courage. We see nothing base or ignoble in His submission.. 4 His non-resistance was not craven. ">" He was the one absolutely true Man of all history. The world marvelB at. His self-restraint. In a word we literally love Him for the very coursewhich would make us despise other ] men. fl Is there not something terribly j striking and significant in that? Does- ? J it not point to the great faet that,. I as Napoleon, who was a man himself- ' and who knew men so well, declared,. - 1 Jesus Christ was?nay, is?-more than. I a man? Is there greater evidence t?? ^ I be found anywhere of His Divinity In humanity than that we love Himt for the very qualities which have & - f tendency to make us scorn mere men* who sometimes practice them??RevCyrus Townsend Brady, in the Sun day weraia. Fervent Charity. Christian love is not the dreain of a philosopher sitting in his study and benevolently wishing the world were better than it is; congratulating himself perhaps all the time on the superiority shown by himself over lessamiable creatures. Injure, one of these beaming sons of good humor,. and he bears malice, deep, unrelenting, refusing to forgive. But give ua ^ the man who, instead of retiring to some small, select society, or rather association, where his own opinion . ? > shall be reflected, can mix with men. where his sympathies are unmet and his tastes are jarred and his viewa traversed at every turn, and still caa ' : be just and gentle and forbearing. Give us the man who can be insulted, and not retaliate; meet rudeness and still be courteous; the man who, like the Apostle Paul, buffeted and disliked, can yet be generous anl make allowances and say; *1 will very gladly spend and be spent for r ; you, though the more abundantly I love ycu the less I be loved." That is "fervent charity."?F. W. Robertson. w e must juive v?un uurseives. Character results from conduct The years leave a deposit; the weaving forests of geological eras long. .* gone are seams of coal to-day. We have to live forever with the selves which we have made out of the infant selves which we might have made almost anything. What sort of a house am I building? A shop? a drinking-saloon? a home of anima! lusts? a study? a temple??Alexan-' der McLaren. Glorifies the Commonplace. The will of God does not call mei away from the commonplaces oi everyday life, but conditions theli life in those commonplaces until th? -3 most commonplace thing flashes and gleams with the glory of the heavens O f'airmhpll MnrMn Victor in the End. You may take the Lord'3 promis< for victory in the end; that shall no' fail, but do not promise yourself east in the way, for that will not hold.? .? Robert Leifchton. Uniform Dress For School Pupils. Miss Ellen T. Wetherill is seeking , %a place on the Lynn (Mass.) school committee on the novel platform of a uniform dress for pupils to be furnished by the city. In her platform, separate costumes for boys and girls are provided for. and even the make and style for the different ages. Census of Sunday-school Pupils. There are now 262,000 Sundayschools in the world, with, a total of !G,000,000 pupils. 1 i