University of South Carolina Libraries
/ LADY 01 THE SEQSJEI BV IV1RS. O CHAPTER VII. S l Continued. "Oh, that humbugging game. Do you think I'm a baby or a girl? I hate your tenuis. It isn't a game for a man." "Quantities and quantities of gentlemen play. Beau plays. Why, the officers play,"' cried Janet, feeling that nothing more was to be said. Tom could not refuse to acknowledge such authority. "Well, then, it isn't a game for me, playing with girls and children. A gallop across country?that's what I like, and to see all father's old friends, and to hear what they thought of him. By Jove, Janet, father was a man! ? not one to loung about in a drawing room like old Beau." Here the boy's heart misgave him a little. "Beau's kind enough," he said; "he doesn't look at a fellow as if?as if you had ? murdered somebody. But if father had lived?" "I wonder?" Janet said, but she did not go any further. Her bright eyes, wondering under her black brows, were round with a question which something prevented her from putting. The possibility of her father having lived confused all her thoughts. She had an instinctive sense of all the difficulties conveyed in that suggestion. She changed the subject by saying unadvisedly, "How bad you lock, Tom! Were you ill last night?" He pushed her away with a vigorous arm. "Shut un?you!" he cried. "You are always telling me to shut up; but I know you were to have taken Miss Ogilvie to dinner?that pretty Miss Ogilvie?and when you did not come, it put them all out, I heard Hampshire telling nurse. He said something about 'your boosing. Mr. Tom,' and nurse fired up. But afterward she cried?and mother has been crying this morning; and then you look so bad. Do tell me if you were ill, Tom."' He did not reply for some time, and tben^he burst out: "Mother's such a bore 'with her crying! Does she think I'm to be a baby all my life?" "Do you know," said Janet, "you're very much like that portrait of father in the hall?that great big one with the horse? Mother looks frightened when she passes it. He does look a little fierce, as if he would have scolded dreadfully," the girl added, with the air of making an admission. "I had rather have been scolded by him," cried the boy. "Nc, he wouldn't have scolded, he would have known better. A man like that understands fellows. Jan, we're rather badly off, vou and me. with onlv a woman to look after us, and that Beau." "Do you call mother a woman? You might be more civil," said Janet; but she did not contradict this assertion. which was not made for the first time. She, too, had always thought '.hat the ideal father, the vague impersonation of kindness and understanding. who would never mock like Beau, ncr look too grave like mother, was something to sigh for, in whose guard all would have gone well. But the portrait in the hall had daunted Janet. She had felt that those black brows could frown and those glowing eyes burn beyond everything that her softly nurtured childhood had known. She would not betray herself by a word or even a thought if she could neip it, Dut it couia not dc aeniea that lier heart sank. "I wish," she said quickly, "you'd leave off breakfasting, Tom, and come out with me for a walk. What is the good of pretending? One can see you don't want anything to eat." "Walk!" said Tom. "You can get that little sap to walk with you. I've get to meet a fellow?Blackmore's his name?away on the other side of the town at twelve. Just ring the bell, Jan. In five minutes 1 must have Bess at the door." "It's twelve o'clock now. Don't go to-day. Besides, mother?" "What has mother to da with it?" cried Tom. starting up. "I'm going, if it was only to spite mother, and you can tell her so. Do you think I'm tied to mother's apronstring? Oh, is it you. Eeau? I?am going out lor ; a ride." "So am I," said Beaufort, entering *1 thought it likely that would" be your intention, so I ordered your horse when I ordered mine. Where did you say you were going? I caught somebody's name as 1 came in." "He said he was?a friend of my ; father's," said Tom. sullenly. j "Ah! it is easy for a man 10 say he is the friend of another who cannot contradict him. Anyhow, we can ride together so far. What's the matter? Aren't you ready?" Beaufor:: said. "He has not finished his breakfast." | said Janet, springing to Tom's defense. "Oh. nonsense! at twelve o'clock!" said Beaufort, with a laugh. And presently, notwithstanding the youth's reluctance, he was carried off in trumph. Janet, much marveling. louowea tnem to tfte door to see them mou'it. She stood upon the steps, following their movements with her wyes, dimly comprehending, divining with her feminine instincts half awakened. Tom's sullen. reluctant! look was more than ever like the portrait, which Janet paused once more to look at. as she went back through the hall. She stood looking for a long time at the heavy, lowering face It was a fine portrait, which Torrance had boasted of in his time, the money it had cost filling him with ill-concealed pride It was the first thing which had shaken Jane* i:. her devotion to the imaginary fa.'her who had been the god of her childhood. Torn was not so big; he was not tall at ail ? not more than middle height, though broadly and heavily made It was very like Tom. and yet there was iwnsthing in it which made the girl thi ^ dei CA I? | :s * of * all _ Or A LIFE. ?" Ca ^ SUI iLIPHAINT. on *01 **++ in< po afraid. As she stooa gazing with be more and more uncertainty upon the wj pictured face, Lady Car came quickly -pc into the hall?almost running?in evident anxiety and concern. She }je stopped suddenly as Janet turned fu round, casting a half-frightened, sb shuddering look from the picture to pj( the girl before it. There was some- re, thing like an apology in her nervous or pause. ist "I?thought Tom was here," she to said. no "He has gone out riding?with p0 Beau." tei "With Beau?" Lady Car breathed (jr something that sounded like, "Thank w, God:" .. ... _.iu no is mere anytning wrong?wuu Tom?" said Janet, gazing round upon Ec her mother with defiance in her eyes. a(j "Wrong? I hope not. They say not. Oh, God forbid!" Lady Car put jQ her hands together. She was very ex pale, with a little redness under her h}; eyes. ' go "Then, mother, if there's nothing th< wrong, why do you look like that?" Ve "Like that?" Lady Car attempted mj a little laugh. "Like what, my dear?" ^ She added, with a long-drawn breath, cE "It is my foolish anxiety; everybody b0 says it is foolish. It is plus forte m( que moi." mi -I wish you would not speak i0( French. Tom," said Janet, "is well at enough, though he doesn't look well. te: He ate no breakfast; and he looked on as if he would lik*; to take my head w] off. Isn't Tom?very like father?" mi she added in a low voice. he They were standing at the foot of b0 the picture, a full-length, which over- cr, bore them as much in reality as imagination, and made the woman and ai. the girl look like pigmies at his feet. fa Carry gave a slight shiver in spite of WJ herself. hi "Yes," she said faintly; "and, my tr; dear?so are you, too." ce Janet met her mother's look with a fce stolid steadiness. She saw Lady Car's nc eyes turn from the picture to her owij pr form and back again, half sorry, half pleased. She had very little under- p]( standing of her mother, but a great ]jr deal of curiosity. She thought to her- an self that most mothers were pleased "/ with such a resemblance?so at least te! Janet had read in books. She sup- us posed her own mother did not care fe: for it?perhaps disliked it because w< she had married again. lit "You never told us anything about ja father," she said, ''but nurse does a Et great deal. She told me how he?was ab killed. Was that the horse?" bij "Yes," said Lady Car, with a trem- cle bling which she could not conceal. to "It is because you are sorry that io' you are so nevvous?" said Janet, with it those dull, light eyes fixed upon her, i0< which were Torrance's eyes. ' fai "Janet!" cried her mother, "do not jo ask me about it." She said in a low, tic hurried voice, "Is it not enough thai toi it was the most terrible thing that Tc ever happened? I cannot go back fie upon it." mi "But afterward," said the girl, im- rn; pelled by she knew not what?some fo influence of vague exasperation, which was half opposition to her hi! mother and half disappointment to ini find the dead father, the tutelary di- hii vinity of this house to which she had ry been so eager to come, so different frnm vior jvpontaiinnc ''afforwor/l you married Beau." "Janet!" Lady Car cried again, but this time the shock brought back her a dignity and self-control. "I don't W] know what has got possession of yen, ^j my dear, to-day. You forget yourself as and me. You are not the judge of my actions, nor can ] justify myself before you." She added, after a time, ^ "Both Tom and you are very like your wj father. After a while he will be mas- HG( ter here, and you perhaps mistress till V() he marries. Your father?might jD, have been living now" (poor Carry grew pale and shuddered even while un she pointed her moral)?"if he had sn not been such a hard rider, so?so ' careless, thinking he could go any- pj. where. Do you wonder I .am aniious v about Tom? You will have to learn to do what you can to restrain him, p. to keep him from those wild rides, to , keep him?" Lady Car's voice faltered, the tears came to her eyes. ."I ?>1 believe it is common, she said, "that a young man, such as he is growing to be, should not mind his mother much. Sometimes, people tell me, ...j they mind their sisters more." i v "Tom does not mind me a bit," said ! Janet, "Oh, not a bit?and he will ^ never marry. He does not like girls." Qr "Perhaps he will change his mind," ^ said Carry, with a faint smile. "Boys : ^ often do. Will you remember what T I have said, dear, if you should ever be ' mistress here?" 1 ^ "But how can I be mistress? Where ^ win you be? Why should there be ' . , 0? ob any change? "The house is Tom's, not mine. I And 1 shall he at my own house at j Easton?if I am living." "Oh." said .lanet. Carry, though a little roused in her own defense, almost quailed before ihe look in the girl's eyes. ' You will bo happier then." she said, with the air of an *>P! assailant hurling a stone at his vie- ifl'' tim; "for you will be all by yourself :u'1 ?with Beau." j ?1' "Go upstairs, Janet!" j "I will not." she cried. ' You said ';i( it was Tom's house, not yours. He j would not let me be sent away out of jl,i: his hall, from father's picture, for, ',y : r u ? I of ? aiijruue ji u? were utri f. ? Carry raised her eyes and saw him ' standing behind his child There seemed a dull smile of triumph in his painted eyes "You thought they were yours?but they are mine," Torrance seemed to,say. "Bolli of them! pr< their father's in every nerve-fiber? ah nothing to do with her." | is CHAPTER VIII. Apart from these painful struggles | with her children, which were quite I nu v to Lady Car. there were man? ngs that pained her in her resilce at the Towers. First of all. there was her nearest ighbor, her dearest friend, her only ter Edith; the dearest companion her life, who had stood by her ic her troubles, and to whom she d given a trembling support in hei uggle, more successful than poo\ rry's, against the husband hei her had chosen for her. Edith hac' cceeded at last in marrying hei ly love, which was a poor marriage an Earl's daughter. They had 3eed, finally both of them, made or marriages; but what a contrasi tween them! Carry living ignobl: th the husband of her choice upor Trance's money, the result of hei miliation; while Edith was at th< ad of a happy, frugal family care lly ordered, with little margin fo: ow or pleasure, but yet in all th< 2ntitude of cheerful life, without i collection to rankle, or any discort complication in all her candid ex ence. Her father had not been abl< " T7**4 + *, Chn Via# lurce me win ui jduuu. uuv . t loved her John any better thai or Carry had loved in her earl; nder youth the lover of all he; earns, the Edward Beaufort wh< is now her husband; but Carry ha< t been able to resist the other hus nd, the horrible life. Even in tha lith had so much, so much th< vantage over her sister! And thei oh, wonder to think of it?John? hn, from whom nothing had befei pected, except that he should sho\ mself. as he had always done, th od fellow, the honest gentlemaD ?true friend he was, whether by de lopment of his own respectable ind or by the influence of Edit! hough she was never clever lik irry), or by the united force o th, John had long been one of th Dst important men in the district ember for his county, trusted am oked up to both by his constituent home and the people at headquar rs, who took his advice, it was said Scotch afFairs more than any one's tiereas Edward?. Carry had Ion ide that poignant comparison in he iart, but to see them together no^ wed her to the ground with a s et humiliation which she could ac lowledge?not to her sister, wh so in the old days had put so mucl ith in Beaufort's genius; not to Ed ird himself?oh, no, to humiliat m. He did not seem to feel the coe ast at all himself, or, if he did per ive it, he thought it apparently t to his own advantage, speakin iw and then of the narrowness o actical men, of the deadening in lence of politics, and of how com etely John Erskine's interest wa nited to matters of local expedient d questions before Parliamenl ind he used to have his share of iD lligence/' said all unconscious th eless man, whose failure his wif It so passionately. Then, as if thi ire not enough, there was Joch tie Jock, who was younger tha: net, only fourteen, but already a on like Tom, and holding a plac ove that of the sevenieen-year-ol g lower boy. The reader must un rstand that this history is not o -day, and that in those times hi; iver boys were still possible, thoug! is so no longer. Tom was only iver boy, and little Jock might hav ;ged his cousin, had it not been tha ck was in college, on the founda >n, saving the money which was no d plentiful atDalmylian. "A Tug! >m had cried with contempt intensi d by the sense of something in hi ather's eyes, the comparison whici ide her heart sick. Little Jock a urteen, so far above the boy wh is almost a man. John Erskine, i: 3 solid good sense, so much mor iportant a man than Edward wit] 3 genius manque. It went to Car 's heart. To be Continued. Fhrances and Phranklin. The letter "f" on the typewriter o well known novelist recently wen -oug, says the Chicago Journal ie author was equal to the occasion will be seen from the followin; rtion of his MS.: "Phairest oph the phair," sighe r lover, "phancv my pheeling len I phoresee the phearphul con riuences oph our phleeing phron ur phather's phamily. Phew phel ivs could have phaced the musi th as much phortitude as I have d as phickle phortune phails t.i lile on our love I must phorego th ?asure oph becoming your husband iairest Phrancis, pharewell phor er!" "Hold, Phranklin. hold!"' scrcamei trances; "I will iihollow you phor er!" But Phranklin had phled, am irancPK i)haint<><l. Something Like a Buck. The heaviest stag which has bcci lied this season in Scotland was i yal, which scaled 371 pounds. Thi mense beast was shot in Arrai er forest by one of Lord and Lad: aham's guests at Brodick Castle te stags in Arran are remarkabl Ih for size and quality, and thi iest carries a heavy stock of re< er, and affords first rate sport. Thi ooting lodge on the west side o s island, where the best stalking i tained during the first month o e season, is covered outside will er 200 pairs of deer horns.?Lon n Truth. L'ommeiulallc Lese Majcste Law. It is lese majeste to bring thi ng's uniform into contempt. Mem :-s of theatrical companies who hav< peared on the stage as comic char :ers attired in discarded military naval uniforms have occasional^ r;:i unpleasantly reminded of thi; Careful stage managers pu MiHclvei. on the safe side by steins im whoMicv tn ho wnrr the hero, villain or low comerlia: the picce, is an exact copy or tin il uniform of any branch of His ijeslv't; forces.?London Pearson's Methodist Episcopal Property. The Methodist Episcopal Church aperty in this country is now worth out $187,090,000, on which then an indebtedness of $12,127,241;. The herring catch oil the shores ol Klancl represents $15,000,000 anally. I ' t For Fancy Work. The bone or celluloid rings which I are now used on fancy work are a . I great improvement over the brass I | ones. These latter rust with damp. i ness, and when dull never look well. ! mi ? 4.U ~ j j i neu, LUU, lilt; ucw yiics uu uui. i v ! quire the time for covering that is ; necessary when the crocheted rings t are used.?New Haven Register. r , Odor of Fish. r To remove odor of fish "put a tea2 6poonful of mustard in the dish in - which fish has been cooked, partly fill r with warm water, and let stand for a * few minutes," says Woman's Home i Companion. "Scrape and rinse, and i no odor will remain. If the hands - are first rinsed in a little mustard s water, and then washed, the disaj greeable odor that remains from i washing dishes in which fish hav? Y been cooked will at once entirely disr appear." 3 j To Clean Cat Glass. Wash glass well in warm soapsuds; t use brush; do not use too hot water e as it may crack glass. Rub dry it a clean sawdust; after removing glass - from sawdust use a dry, soft brust a and brush glass clean from sawdust v A good brushing will leave glass e brilliant. For cut glass wine, watei i, and vinegar bottles cut up raw pota> - toes in small dice, put bottle to e gether with soapsuds, and shake wel ti until bottle is clean; rinse in colc e water.?New York World. f e The Guest Room. The very simplest guest room tha 3 any one could imagine! The flooi y had on it a gray rag carpet. Th< walls were covered with a plain gra] paper, and a black molding joinec I them to the ceiling. The narrow, ol< 5 fashioned woodwork of window anc r door sills made streaks of black, ii v keeping with the molding above. Th< hangings were gray Japanese crepe. "Many tones of quiet grays," ai 0 said the poet, but they served t< II throw into relief odd bits of blui and yellow Moorish pottery and i A vi 1 1 mi lvAAlr? ? row Ol OJUe UUU&S. AUG uuuna wen l_ the point of the who\e gray schemi w of things, for the hostess had coveret 0 them all in blue Holland linen r.n< & j had titled the backs on small yellov ? ! pasters.?New York World, i Materials For Dresses. s A woman with two little girls nev er wants for materials for ne\ ~ dresses and coats and hats for thi e dolls when birthdays roll around e This is the reason: She has a box lab eled "dolls' materials," and into i . [ go bits of lace and embroidery piece ^ of lawn, silk and wool and bits fron t feathers and furs. The children nev e er see the box, because things woul< d i not be quite so new to them if the; _ ! did. A month before every birthda; j the dolls of the children visit thei grandmother, and when the birthda; ^ comes they appear in newly washei and ironed and patched and mendei outfits. The work is done for birth j. days rather than Christmas, becaus ' there is more time, and only one se of dolls to fix up at one time.?Ne^ 1, York Sun. " The Bath Room. s h If possible the bath room shouli t be fitted with tiled dadoes; wher 0 the expense is too great a sanitar; n : paper should be employed. e The paint must be enameled, an b i the bath itself should be one of thos .. with a rolltd metal edge. It is, think, a mistake to enclose a bath i: a wooden case, neither is a ledge o polished wood advisable, for it is im possible to prevent the polish fron f i becoming scratched and marked. The floor of the bath room shouli 1 i be covered with cork carpet. j ' j square of cork should be provided a v a uaui tutti, aim uuc yi iuc nuuu^., ? boards, which is made to fit across bath on which to pat sponges an soap dishes should not be forgotten s It saves a considerable amount o work if there is a fitted wash haiu a i stand in the bath room, which can b ~ I used by members of a family whei 0 i washing their hands before luncheon ?The New Home. 0 j _____ I! 1 i EgJ ' C&JVP JTOVTO WK? PREPARE c TffEM i Cranberry Jelly. One quart 0 cranberries, three cups of boilini water, boil rapidly twenty minute; n and sift thoroughly. Boil again fivi a. minutes with two large cups of su s gar. Pour into mold and let stan< i j until cold. y Fruit Cake.?Two cups molasses * two cups sugar, three eggs, one cu] R sour cream, one teaspoon soda, si: s cups flour, one pound raisins, on< * pound currants, one-half pound cit e ron, one teaspoon all kinds of spice f This makes two loaves. j Excellent Pie Crust.?Four cups o flour, one-quarter teaspoonful of so , da, one-half teaspoonful of cream tar " I tar, one teaspoonful of salt, one ta , blespoonful of sugar, one roundini cup of lard. Rub together unti thoroughly mixed. This dry mixtun 2 will keep for weeks in a cool, drj place. Cranberry Fritters.?Beat one egj till foamy, then stir into it one and t half cups milk, one tablespoon sugar * one tablespoon of baking powder sifted with one cup flour. Mix wel and stir in nne cuu cranberry sauce ' Drop in spoonfuls on a hot buttered griddle and serve at oncc with buttei and powdered sugar. 3 Puritan Johnny Cnkc. ? Mix one cup of sifted bread flour, one-hall cupful of yellow granulated cornmeal, two level teaspoonfuls of baking powder, one-half level teaspoon1 ful of salt and one round tcaspoonful 1 of sugar, stir in one cupful of milk J one well beaten egg and two tablespoonfuls of melted butter or lard; beat it thoroughly and turn into f greased muffin pans and bake in a * | quick oven about twenty minutes. 1 Religious Reading FOR THE QUIET HOUR. w "SEARCH ME, O GOD." Be Thou my Friend, and look upon mj > - heart, I Lord Jesus, Son of Man! Each seed of good or ill that there has part, Do Thou in mercy scan. The burning springs there lurking, I O Lord! Thou canst control. And each wild passion working 1 Within my sinful soul. Yes., be my Friend, and look upon my heart," On .ill that's hidden there; The deeper gailt that stings me with its dart, 1 The unknown sins I bear; 1 | The passions that distress me i Let Thy pure presence slay; i The sorrows that oppress me Before Thee flee away. I Oh, shine upon me with Thy holy light, I When glittering doom I see. And leave me not in tribulation's night, i r,awoof npnrp t.r* mpl I 1 The chains of sin dissever, ! Blind fancy's wildest play; Then, then, ray Lord, forever Take grief and ain away! ?Lange. t ?? Drawing and Holding. There is much unwise talk about drawing preachers. We do not disJ parage the ability to draw a large j congregation. It is an art well worth studying and acquiring. But it is 1 not right to lay the entire responsi* bility for drawing the community 1 Into the church upon the preacher. * Has the church no duty in the case? . Are there not churches that cannot . hold the people when they are drawn j by the minister? Are there not . church members who do more scattering than drawing? We have known leading members to drive away some whom the minister h&d drawn to the house of the Lord. t Dr. Henry Van Dyke telb about a r layman who came to his study, from s one of the churches in the Murray ' Hill neighborhood, to inquire about ' a pastor to fill the vacant pulpit. He 1 asked Dr. Van Dyke if he could rec1 ommend someone. The doctor told 1 him he could recommend a dozen, i The gentleman seemed surprised at 3 that, for he could hardly believe there were a dozen ministers in the land fit to minister to so important a con3 gregation. Dr. Van Dyke named one 1 after another; to each one the 5 preacher-hunter made some objecj tion. One had a weak voice, anqther e wore a black cravat in the pulpit,'and a another had a disagreeable delivery. J At last the gentleman said: "What , we want in our fchurcn is a minister that will draw." "Oh, no, my Chris' tian friend," said the doctor, "what you want is a church that will hold." You haven't got it. Twenty congregations have passed through your church because you have "not had a * church that will hold. You want a v church that will hold the people when e they get into it. The minister cannot . hold them. Success depends not half . so much upon the minister as upon t you, the church." . ' Every church member should be a " drawing card. By the magnetism of a his spiritual personality, by the effi* cacy of his prayers, by the power of 3 his sanctified effort, he should draw y the people from all classes to the, y house of the Lord. "Let your light x so shine that others may see your y good works and glorify your Father . which is in Heaven." Then shall the church of God prosper greatly and a Mount Zion shall rejoice.?Christian ' Advocate. e t Concerning the Bible. v It is impossible to govern the worid without God.?George Washington. The farther the ages advance in cultivation the more the Bible can be used.?Goethe. 3 Christ proved that He was the Son e of the Eternal by His disregard o! y time.?Napoleon Bonaparte. A better knowledge of the Chrisj tian religion is to be acquired by reading the Bible than in any other * way.?Benjamin Rush. All the good from the Saviour o! n the world is communicated through >1 this Book. But for this Book, we i. could not know right from wrong. All n the things desirable to man sre contained in it.?Abraham Lincoln. , By the study of what ath?;r booh 1 could children be so humanized? I! * Bible reading is not accompanied bj s restraint and solemnity I do not bea lieve there is anything in which chila dren take more pleasure.?Professoi j Hurley. lt So great is my veneration for the j Bible that the earlier my children be, gin to read it, the njore confident wiil be my hope that tfiey will prove usee ful citizens to their country, and reQ 3pectable members of society.?John u Quincy Adams. Hold fast to the Bible as the sheet anchor to your liberties. "Write its precepts on your hearts and practice them in your lives. To the influence of this Book we arc indebted for the progress made in true civilization, and to this we must look as our guide . in future.?Ulysses S. Graut. Independent?or WIrat? . There is no freedom in serving our ' own will. "I usually carry a cigar 3 with me," said a man who smokes s but little, "as a sort of declaration ol e independence." He meann, "as evi- 1 . dence that I am not ready to be in] dependent"?but he would not_have liked to put it just that wj'.y. To ue independent of self is the only independence that brings real freedom. ! ? But independence of self 5s possible * only by genuine bondage to One who a is better than self. "Free, as bond. servants," said Peter. Htrppy is the man who is independent enough to be ! ' the slave of Christ.??un3ay-School j Times. f A Good Rule. When you hear an ill report about . anyone, halve and quarter ;t and then ' , say nothing about the lpjt.?SpugJ ?eon. Trouble With the Theatre. The trouble with the tjeatre as a j preacher is that the evil i> has drowns >. Mie good that it says. i C?od is Love. It's a solemn thin?; when the ( I (noufrnt 01 our juage nss lioicmg uui fear in it. 1 Dlejj at the Age of 115. r Henderson Cremeans, known to be ] ; the oldest man in West Virginia and c i probably the oldest in the United . States, died at the home of his grand- t son, Clark Cremeans, near Point s Pleasant, W. Va., Mason County, aged ^ 115 years. He was strong and r ' hearty to the time of his death, fall- j > ing on the roadside on his way home from the grocery store. His mother died at 120; his wife at 101. He had ? , seventy grandchildren, 131 great- f grandchildren and nineteen great- J great-grandchildren. He never tast- 1 ed linn or or tobacco. ' \ \ \ I OUR TEMPERANCE COLUMN, jr REPOI&S OF PROGRESS OP THE BATTLE AGAINST RUM. ^ \ Drive It Out. There's an evil in the land, Drive it out! v, IN It's a corse to every man, Drive it out! It is whisky, rum and beer, That enslaves us year by year, Will you not these fetters clear? Su Drive it out! Chorus: Drive it out! Drive it out! Men of love and faith and prayer, Be the kind to do and dare, Live for temperance everywhere! Th Drive it out! er There s a tempter in the cup, wa Drive it out! o_ When at first you take a sup, +, , Drive it out! It will lead to ruin and shame, m It will all your hop^ defame, to Drive it out in Jesus' name! Of Drive it out! gjB Ho you see the drunkard's home? Drive it out! rr . Do you hear the mother's groan? Drive it out! be Do you see our youthful men, gu Doomed to death by "Satan's den;" Fa Do you see the drunkard's end? 11 Drive it out! i ?Geo. W. Lassiter, in Biblical Recorder. ^ Who Owns the Saloons? The editor of the Wine and Spirit Wh Gazette, no mean authority on the a ? liquor business, says: . Ph "About four-fifths of the saloons of he the country are owned by the brew- (V< era under chattel mortgages. The coi brewers have protected .their rights j sta by properly drawn legal documents |on in such a way as to leave the poor fel- to low who runs the saloon thus mort- pei gaged scarcely his own soul and body. jei "How is the business of the chari- ae] table brewers conducted? Every wh Monday the brewer's collector- ap- iig pears at the. saloon, demanding pay- S0I ment for last week's beer bill, and bo' also $18 or more a week on account eii: of the liquor tax money advanced. In 3tu the background stand,the represen- t0 tatives of the cigar man, of the soda in(] water manufacturer and the distiller ne1 and wholesale liquor dealer. The ] brewer has to be paid first, and it 29often happens that the sum paid to be, the brewer's collector consists to a 3p( large extent of the dimes and nickele Hii that the saloon-keeper had to take f0j out of the cash drawer. After the pr( brewer has thus been satisfied, up rna steps the cigar man; but only in rare gp instances something is left for him. ma The representatives of the soda watei enj manufacturer, distiller and wholesale'liquor dealer, in looking upon ca] the transaction, may, well exclaim, gp 'Where do we come in?' The an- we swer of the overburdened saloonkeep- th< er is: 'I can't help myself. The mj brewer has to be paid fii^t, or else 1 cj^ siian ue inrown out, ana me liquor ?0 tax certificate taken away by the un brewer and another fellow put in my place.' Should it ever happen that qjj a saloonkeeper thus placed desires to co, pay part of his obligations to the whole- wa 8aler or distiller, whose goods he has l0 sold gn three or four months' credit. without satisfying the first claim ol the brewer, he will, get no beer for the current week except C. O. D.. ^ and that arrangement will rarely be wc kept up longer than one or twc weeks, when the mortgagee of the t0 brewer, who also generally is. the |n. owner of the lease of the place, will to be thrown out." gw sh; A Legend. I . ,wa There is an. old legend of a man |u who sold his soul to Satan. The con; ^ ditions were: For a certain number ot years this man was to have all his desires gratified, at the expiration oJ Th which his soul was to be forfeited. es< When the time agreed upon had 801 expired, this man was unwilling tc 'n< fulfil his part of the contract, and ' j16 asked Satan upon what terms he could be released. The reply was: * Pr' "If you will curse your God I will Pa release you." a*' "No," said the man, "I cannot curse i the Being whose nature is love. Give lU( me something less fearfully wicked.' ?P( "Then kill your father," said ,or Satan, "and you go free." 'ws "No," answered the man, "that ie an too horribie to think of. I will not no commit so great a crime. Are there ra< no other conditions?" J"?1 "One more," replied the tempter. "You must get drunk." Jf1 "That is a very easy thing to do," the man answered, "and I accept youi proposition. I cannot kill my father, ra' I will not curse my God, but I can ve get drunk, and when I become sober eVl all will be well." U1'( Accordingly he got drunk, and when in this condition he happehed *? to meet his father, who upbraided &? him, which so excited the ire of the su drunken and half-crazed man, that '01 he slew his father, cursed his God, then fell down dead, and Satan had otl him without fail. ^r' Only a legend, this particular case, but how true to the facts regarding n0 the liquor curse. joi Trying to Quit. While standing at a corner a day er] or two ago talking with an old friend, jja I was approached by a wretched rem- wc naut of a man, who asked, bluntly, jje "Who's got a quarter?" "A quar- re, tor'a tnn miiph " T aoM 14 J-fard'a a dime; hurry up and get your'drink.' " tie "Thanks; I'll waste no time," and off do he limped. "Looks strangely like a man I knew some fifteen years ago," I remarked to my companion. "You . did know him," was the reply. "It is he. Poor devil. Whisky. Straight JL to hell. Nothing for him now but a T merciful death. I never knew a man i with better prospects." "Tried to ciuit, I suppose, and couldn't." "Yes; he's one of the millions that are always 'trying,' but never quit." Temperance Notes. Only brainless taen can drink without suffering mental injury. ras The saloon is at war with all the is forces that tend to build men up into of better lives. j inj In the seven complete years the j an irmy has b^en without the canteen j fol :here has been a decrease of two- ! pei thirds in its cour.t-martial trials. j pa: Twenty-seven per cent, of the in- j me ;ane in the asylum at Rome have been 1 lie made mad by alcohol, declares a tin Catholic journal published in that I tiv :ity. In Kentucky, the home of Bourbon ; yes, ninety-seven per cent, of the ter- 1 itory has gone "dry." Not less than en 1,500,000 of Kentucky's population port 2,230,000 live in "dry" counties. th< A correspondent ironically suggests me t no riavf u*rinl?lo n;ill V?a o tlV ;ition from somebody that there en< ihould be a canteen in each college sir o improve conditions among the stu- ne? tonts. It has been figured out that the educed production of liquor reported or July and August has saved the )eople of this country nearly $60,- tra >00,000. The larger ;<art of the rev- Ea uue decrease was In beer. stil ( ^>tin&Q2|-^clT0Or J J v TERNATIONAL LESSON COM* H MENTS FOR MARCH 7. IB bject: Philip and the Ethiopian mB Acts 8:20-40?Golden Text, John j^H 5:30?Commit Verses 29-31? HH Commentary on the Lesson. TIME.?35-37 A. D. PLACE.? EH e Desert. SH EXPOSITION.-?I. AGreatPreaeli- H T"*- ? rtO Off. Dknin. wviii nuu a x/cscri, ^, ??a? ruuiy .s in the midst of a great work in maria, and now he was to leave all s and go down to a desert road to |H| et a single individual and lead him BB Christ. TJiis shows the importancepersonal work and the value of a gle soul. Philip had learned the jU ;hest form of wisdom?the wisdom doing just what the Lord bids yon. ; was a man guided of God. because was so earnestly ~ looking for H idance, and so prompt in obeying. HH ith's best proof is obedience (Heb. Wfl :8). ' V? D. A Great statesman Seeking the JH vy of Life, 27b, 28. If we. ju0t go HH ' way God bids, asking no qflesns, it will soon begin to develop y God has sent us. This man. was jreat person, but that was not whyilip was sent to him, but because BH was a sincere seeker after truth: WM 27, last clause, 30, 31, 34, 36;| np. Jno. 7:17; Ps. 25:9). This' tesman evidently considered rellg a matter 01 sumcient importance bestow much time, troub?3 and exlse upon it. He "had come to usalem for to worship." No wonr God gave more light to a man 0 was so earnestly following the ht he had. In v. 28 R. V. is a left- I 1 on How to Study the Bible and H] w to improve the time when tf&y g. It was while engaged in Che idy of the Word that God revealed JM the eunuch the fuller truth.' This licates the reason why some of ..iis rer get these revelations from God III. Personal Work in a Chariot, .^Hj 35. It is evident from the record <BH re that God does not expect to to .9 ;ak to every one we meet about s .salvation; but/that,;, if we watch' . , His leading as to whom to ap- g )ach, He will give it. There are my of us who never heard the irit say to up, "Go, speak to that in." Is it because we are qpt list' Bi Ing keenly enough to catch "the 11, small voice?" It is welPto note H efully the .first two words the irit spoke to Philip, "go near." If H| are to win men to Christ that is i way to begin. One of the great H| stakes of a large portion of the j^Q arch to-day is that we are trying 1 H| save men from a distance. It is a& fl usual sight to see one man running vH er another to speak to him abont U rist. This was the only way Philip nld catch his man. It is the only ,y we can catch many whom the rd wishes us to save. We wait for in fa f*amo oi-?rl eofllf ii? hk o ,vw wiuv- uuu oo\<n uo. vu> y Philips to run after men! "Un-> M rstandest thou ^hat.thou readest?" very pertinent question, and yet mid not some of us think it imper- Bj lent if put to us? But if we were tell the truth about our Bible read- flj I, what would we have to answer .,?^0 that Question? The eunuch an- B| ered, "How can I, except some one all guide me?" There is One al- 'B lys ready and always at hand to H| ide us (Jno. 14:26; 16:13; 1 Jno. H 27). It is very important that we H ould understand what we read ?^2 latt. 13:19, 23; 15:10; 24:15). le eunuch was thoroughly in earni in his search for truth. He beaght this unknown worker to coipe ll :o his chariot and sit with him that )B might point out to him the' mean- H I of God's Word. It was indeed ovidential that he was reading a B ssage that so clearly expounds the B 3ning work of Jesus. The eunuch B ked a question that went rightsat B e heart of the matter, "of whom B saketh the prophet this? of himself ~H| of some other man?" It Is al- B lys well to know exactly of whom B y Scripture speaks. Butthete is B passage where this question is ?. >B )re vital than in Isaiah 53. If It ' fl fers to the Messiah, then beyqnd B e possibility of honest question B sus of Nazareth was the predicted ' B 1> A ~ U J- A- At. ;ao iau. mm 11 UUC3 reier UJ UW ;ssiah and to Jesus. Infidels and tionalists have labored hard to Innt some other interpretation. But ery attempt has ended in utter falle. The most plausible theory that^*v 2y have advanced 13 that It refers "suffering Israel." But this theory es all to pieces on the rock that the fferer is represented as suffering r the sins of others than himself sa. 53:4, 5, 8, 9, 11. 12), and the lers for whose sins he is 'suffering e "my people," i. Israel (Isa. :S). So evidently the sufferer can- ? t be Israel. III. Believing, Baptized and Re- v icing, 36-40. The treasurer promptaccepted the truth and Jesus. If s eunuch had been like many model "seekers after truth," he would ?ve thought of a score of things that luld hinder his beirig baptized. But was not merely in pretence, but in allty an honest inquirer; so. when found the truth he threw difflculs to the wind and obeyed It. Philip es not hesitate, but immediately ptizes him. Philip's work is done d the Spirit takes him away (seemgly he is caught away as by a hurrlne, cf. 2 K. 2:16). The e;much ust now learn to look directly to sus Himself. This he does. He es not ask for Philip now that he <m s found Jesus. He went on his way H ejoicing" with a new-found joy, a fl y those only know who reoelve I bus j Navy Rice to Be Japan Style. 9 "Japan style" instead of "Hondu- I > style," that hitherto purchased, * H to be issued by the supplies bureau the Navy Department, at Wash- H ;ton. D. C.. in connection with the ' nual supply of rice. This decision H Hows consultation with rice ex- D rts of New York City and the De- H rtment of Agriculture. The change H ;ans a considerable saving of pubfunds, it is said, and at the same ie in no degree reduces the nutri- fl e aualitv of thp rirp H British tc Accept Our Meat. H The committee of the British Govlment, at London, which was apj^fl^H inted last summer to inquire I i alleged control of the supply, has concluded^^^^^Bfl^^fl with American impo^^BBB|HH^^| that the European Shippin^^Hj^^^H^^^^Hfl European shipping in the Levant were