The Abbeville press and banner. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, March 06, 1889, Image 3
w
I REV. DR. TALMAGE. I
H
I THE BROOKLYN DIVINE'S SUNK
DAY SEKMOX.
Subject: "The Literature of the
Dust.'' -JSZs*
Text: "Jesus stoop&l doivn and wrote on
Vie ground."?John viil, ?i.
A Mohammedan mosque stands now where
once stood Herod's temple, the scone of my
text. Solomon's temple had stood there, but:
9 JNebuchadnc.; ar thundere I it down. Zoro9
babel's temple had stood there, but that had
been prostrated. Now we take our places
[ in a temple that Herod built because he was
fond of preat architecture and he wanted the
B preceding temples to seem insignificant. Put
eight or ten cathedrals together and they
H would not equal that structure. It covered
H nineteen acres. There were marble pillars
supporting roofs of ceder an l silver tables
H on which stood golden cups, and there were
carvings exquisite and inscriptions resplen
dent, glittering balustrades and ornamented
gateways- The building of this temple kept
ten thousand workmen busv forty-six years.
In that stupendous pile or" nomp and tnag
nificence sat Christ, and a 1 stening throng
stood about him, when a wild disturbance
J took place. A group of men nre pulling ana
jMjsuiHK tiiuii? a. v? t;uian ??uv/ uao Vwu.....v?vM ,
the -worst crime against society-. When
they have brought her in front of Christ,
they ask that He sentence her to death by
stoning. They are a critical, merciless,
disingenuous crowd. Thoy want
to get Chr.Kt into controversy and
public reprehension. If He say: "Let
ner die," they will charge Him with cruelty.
If He let her go. they will charge Him with
being in complicity with wickedness.
Whichever way He does, they would howl
at Him. Then occurs a scene which has
not been sufficiently regarded. He leaves
the lounze or beiich on which He was
6itt'ng and goes down on one knee, or
both knees, and with the forefinger of
His right hand He begins to write in
the dust of the lloor, word after word. But
they were not to be diverted or hindered.
They kep* on demanding that Ho settle this
case of transgression until He looked un and
told tiiem that thev mi^ht themselves begin
the woman's assassination, if the complainant
who had never done anything wrong himself
would op?n the fire. wGo ahead,
but be sure that the man who tlinsjs
the first missile is immaculate." Then He |
resumed writing with His finger in the dust
of the floor, word after word. Instead of j
looking over His shoulder to see what He had
written the scoundrels skulked away.
Finally, the whole place is clear of pursuers,
antagonists nnd plaintiffs, and when
Christ has finished this strange cbirography
in the dust. Ke looks up and finds the
woman a!l alone. The prisoner is the only
one of the court room left, tho judges, the
police, the prosecuting attornevs having
cleared out. Christ is victor, and Ho says to
the woman: "Where are the prosecutors in
this case.' Are they all goner Then I discharge
you; go and sin no more."
I have always wondered what Christ wrote
on the ground. For do you realize that is
the only time that He ever wrote at all? I
know that Eusebius says that Christ once
wrote a let'er to Abgarus. the King of
Edessa, but there is no good evidence of ":Uch
e correspondence. The wisest being the
world ever saw and the one who
had more to say than any one who ever
lived, never writing a book or a chapter, or
e page or a paragraph, or a word on parchment.
Nothing but this literature of the
dust, and one sweep of a brush or one
breath of a wind obliterated that forever.
Among all the rolls of the volumes of
thn first. lihrnrv founded at Thebes
there was not one scroll of Christ. Among
the seven hundred thousand hooks of the
A'exandrian library, which by the infamous
decree of Caliph Omar were used as fuel
to beat the four thousand baths of
the city, not one sentence had Christ
penn"d. Anions: all the infinitude of
volumes now standing in the libraries of
Fdinburgh, the british Museum, or Berlin or
Vienna, or the learned repositories of all
nations, not one word written directly by
the finger of Christ! All that he ever wrote
he wrote in dust, uncertain, shifting, vanishing
dust
My text says Ke stooped down and wrote
on the ground. Standing straight up a man
might write on the ground with a staff,
but if with his fingers he would
write in the dust, he must bend clear
over. Ave, he must get at least
on one knee or he cannot write on the
ground. Be not surprised that He
stooped down. His whole life was a
stooping down. Stooping down from
castle to barn. Stoouing down from
celestial homage to ' mobocratic .ieer.
nkAtru fltn of i Tirliara O
f iUUi A C.UUVUVO UW?? O tav ouaio w ?uviv w>
star had to fall to designate His landing place.
From heaven's front dour to the wot Id's back
gate. From writing in round and silvered
letters of constellation and galaxy on
the blue scroll of heaven, to writing on the
ground in the du3t, which the feet of the
cro*d had lelt in Herod's temple.
If January you have ever stepped
out of a prince's conservatory that
had Mexican cactus and magnolias
in full bloom, into the outside air t?n degrees
below zero, you may get some idea of
Christ's change of atmosphere from celestial
to terrestrial. How many heavens there are
I know not. but there are at least three, for
Paul was "caught up into the third heaven."
Christ came down from highest heaven to
the second heaven, and down from second
heaven to first heaven, down swifter than
meteors ever fell, do;vn amidst stellar sp^ndors
that Himself eclipsed, down through
clouds, through atmcspueres, through appalling
space^'lown to where there was no lower
depth. *'rom Dein? wait a on at tne Dau quet
of the skies to the broiling of fish rot
His own breakfast on the banks of the lake.
From emblazoned chariots of eternity
to the saddle of a mule's back. The
homage cherubic, seraphic, archangelic,
to the paying of sixty-two and a half cents
of tax to C rsar. From the death'ess
country to a tomb built to hide human
dissolution. The uplifted wave of Galilee
was hieh, but He had to come down botora,
with His feut. He could tou'. h it. and the
whirlwind that rose above the billow
was higher yet, but He had to come
down before, with His lip, He could
kiss it into quiet. Bethlehem a stooping
down. Nazareth a stooping down. Death
between two burglars a stooping down.
Yes, it was in consonance with humiliations
that had gone before and with self abnegations
that came after, when <>n that memorable
day in Herod's temple He stooped down
and wrote cn the ground.
Whether the words He was writing were in
Greek, or Latin, or Hebrew, I cannot sav,
S TJ? 1 ?:i r-P .o W-,fr Ho'il
IU1 lie KI1CVT evil tUVfOO lau^uafjCOt ^>uv IAU 14
still stooping down and with His finger writing
on the ground; in the winter in letters
of crystals, in the spring in letters of
flowers, in summer in golden letters of
harvest, in autumn in letters of fire on falLn
leaves. How it would sweeten up and enrich
and emblaxon this world could we sea
Christ's caligrapby all over it. This world
was not flung out into space thousands of
years ago and then left to look out for itself.
It is still under the divine care.
Christ never for a half second takes Hij
band off of it, or it would soon be a shipwrecked
world, a defunct world, an obsolete
world, an abandoned world, a dead world.
"Let there be light" was said at the beginning.
And Christ stands under the wintry
gki?s and says: Let there be snowflakes to enrich
the earth: and under the clouds of spring
and says: Come ye blossoms and make redolent
the orchards, anil in Septeml>er, dips
the branches into the vat of l.enutiful co'ors
II and swings them in trie ha r air. wmm
I of mine is this. "Without Him wai not
I anything made that wus ma le." Christ
I writing on the ground. If we could
I see His hand in all the passing
seasons fnow it would illumine the world!
All verdure and foilag* would be in allegoric,
and again we would hear Him s iy as of old: 1
I "Consider the lilies of the field, how they
grow;" and we would not hear the whistle
of a quail or the cawing of a
raven or the roundelay of a brownthresher,
without saving: "Behold
'& fowls of the air. they gather not t^lo
barns, yet your Ileaverlv Father feedeth
them;" and a Dominic hen of the barnyard
could not cluck for her brood, yet we would
hear Christ savin? as of old: 'iHow often
would I have gathered thy children together,
even as n hen gathered her chickens
under her win?s:" and through the redolent
hedges we would henr Christ saying: "I am
the rose of Sharon;" we could not dip the
seasonin? from the salt cellar without thinking
of the Divine suggestion: "Ye are the
salt of the earth, but if the salt have lost its
savor, it is fit for nothing but to be
cast oat and trodden onder foot
of men." Let us wake up
from our stupidity and take the whole world
as a para'le. Then if with gun and pack of
hounds we start off before dawn and see the
morning coming down o.T the hills to meet
a?. we would cry out with the evangelist:
"The day spring from on high hath
r
visited us;" or caught In a snowstorm
while struggling home, eyebrows and
beard and apparel all covered with the whirling
flakes, we would cry out with David:
"Wash me and I shall be whiter than snow."
In a picture gallery of Europe, there is on the
ceiling an exquisite fresco, but people
having to look straight up. it wearied and
dizzied them, and bent their necks almost bevond
endurance, so a great looking-glass
was put near the floor and now visitors only
need to look easily down into this mirror
and they see the fresco at their
feet And so much of all the heaven
of God's truth is reflected in this world as in
a mirror, and the things that are above
are copied by things all around U3. What
ricrlit have we to throw away one of Gorl's
Bibles, ave. the first Bible He ever gave the
race? We talk about the Old Testament and
the New Testiment, but the oldest Testament
contains the lessons of the natural
world. Some people like the New Testament
so well they discard the Old Testament.
Shall we like the New Testament and the
Old Testament so well ns to depreciate the
oldest; namely, that which was written
before Moses was put afloat on the boat of
leaves which was calked with asphaltum: or
reject the Genesis and the Revelation that
were written centuries before A'lam lost a
rib and gained a wife? No, no; when Deity
stoops down and writes on the ground,
let us real it. I would have no
less appreciation of the Bible 01. paper
that comes out of the paoer mill, but I
would urge appreciation of the Bible in
the crass, the Bible in the ssnd hill,
the Bible in the geranium, the Bible in
the asphodel, the Bible in the dust.
! Some one asked an ancient king
whether he had seen the eclipse of the sun.
"No." said he. "I have so much to do on
eart'i, I have no time to look at heaven."
| And !f our faculties were all awake in the
study of God, we would not have time to go
much further than the first ?rass blade. I
have n"> fear that natural religion will ever
contradict what wo call revealed religion. I
have no sympathy with the followers of
Aristotle, who after the telescope was invented,
wou'd not look through it. lest it
contradict some of the theories of their great
master. I shall bo glad to put against one
lid of the Bible the microscope, and against
the other lid of the Bihle the telescope.
But when Christ stooped down and wrote
I on the ground, what did He write? The
Pharisees ili 1 not stop to examine. The
cowards, whipped of their own consciences,
tied pell mell. Nothing will flav a man likf
I an aroused conscience: Dr. S'evens, ir
his "History of Methodism," says thai
when Rev. Benjamin Abbott of olden
time3 was preaching, he exclaimed: "For
aught I know there may be a murderer in
this house," and a man rose in the assemblage
and started for the door and bawled aloud,
confessing to a murder he had committed
fifteen years before. And no wonder these
Ph a risers reminded of their sins, took
to their heels. But what did Christ write
on the ground? The Bible does not state.
Yet, as Christ never wrote anything except
that on-e, vou cannot blame us for wanting
to know what He really did write. But I a:n
certain He wrote nothing trivial, or nothing
unimportant. And will you allow me
to say that I think I know what
He wrote on the ground? I judge
from the circumstances. He might
have written other things, but kneeling there
in the temple, surrounded by a pack ol
hypocrites, who were a self appointed constabulary,
and having in His presence a persecuted
woman who evidently was very penitent
for her sins. I am sure He wrote
two words both of them graphic and tremendous
and reverberating. And th? one
word was hypocrisy and the other word
was forgiveness. From the way these
Pharisees and scribes vacated the premises
and got out into the fresh air, as Christ,
with just one ironical sentence,
unmasked them, I know they were firstclass
hypocrites. It was then as it is now.
The more faults and inconsistencies p-ople
have of their own. the more severe and censorious
are they about the faults of others.
Here they are?twenty stout men arresting
and arraigning one weak woman.
Magnificent business to be engaged in. They
wanted the fun of seeing her faint away under
a heavy judicial sentence from Christ,
and then after she had beep, taken outside
the city and fastened at the foot of the precipice,
the Scribes and Pharisees wanted the
satisfaction of each coming and dropping a
bisr stone on her head, for that was the style
of capital punishment fliat they asked for.
Some people hav? taken the responsibility
of savins that Christ never laughed. But 1
think as He saw those men drop everything,
chagrined, mortified, exposed
and go out quicker than they came in, He
must have laughed. At any rate, it makes |
me laugh to read of it. Ail of these libertines.
dramatizing indignation against impurity.
Blind bats lecturing on optics. A
tlock of crows on their way up from a carcass,
denouncing carrion." Yes, 1 think that
one word written on the ground thai j
day by the finger of Christ was the awful j
word of hypocrisy. But I ain sure there was
another word in that dust. From her entire
manner I am sure that arraigned woman
was repentant, She made no apology, and
Curist in no wise belittled her sin.
But her supplicatory behavior and her tears
moved Him, and when He stooped down tc
write on the ground. He wrote that mighty,
that imperial word, forgiveness. When
on Sinai God wrote the law, Ho wrote
it with finger of lightning on tables
of stone, each word cut as by a chisel
into the hard granite surface. But when He
writes the offense of this woman He writes it
in the dnst so that it can be easily rubbed j
out, and when she repents of it, oh. He was j
a merciful Christ! I was reading of a
legend that is told in the far East about
Hia He was walking through the streets of
a city and He saw a crowd around a dead
dog. And one man said: "What a loath
j some object is tb?t dog!" "Yes," said
another, "his ears a. a mauled and bleedinz."
| 'Yes,'" said another, "even his hide would I
j not be of any use to the tanner." "Yes,"
I said another, "the odor of his carcass is dread
I ful." Then Christ, standing there, said
I ' "But j ear's cannot equal the whiteness of
I His teeth." Then the people, moved by the
I idea that any one could find anything j
pleasant concerning a dead dog1, said: i
"Why, this must be Jesus of Naza- |
reth." Reproved and convi' ted they wen* j
away. Surely this legend of Christ is good ]
enough to be true. Kindness in all His
words and ways and habits. Fcrgive- J
ness. Word of eleven letters, and some of
them thrones, and some of them palm
branches. Bettor have Christ write close
to our names that one word, though He
writ? it in dust, than to have our ?nme cut
into monumental granite with the letters that
the storms of a thousand vearscannot obliterate.
Bishop Babington had a book of only
three leaves. The lirst leaf was black, tuo
second leaf red, the third leaf white. The
black leaf suggested sin: the red leaf atonement;
the white leaf purification. That is
the whole story. God will abundantly
pardon.
I must not forget to say that as Christ,
stopping down, with His finder wrote on the
ground, it is evident th'it His sympathies are
with this penitent woman, and that He has
no sympathy with her hypocritical pursuers.
Just opposite to that Is the world's habit.
Why didn't these unclean Pharisees bring
one of their own number to Christ for excoriation
and capital punishment? No, no;
they overlook that in a man which they
damnate in a woman. And so the world hns
had for Defending women scourges and
objurgation, and for just one offense she
lecomes en outcasc. while for men who39
I lives have been sodomic for twenty years,
| the world swings opens its doors of brilliant
welcome, ana tney inav sn in ie;isiniunnauu
senates and parlinm -nts or on thron.'.s. l.'niike
the Christ of my text, the world writes a
man's misdemeanor in dust, hut chisels a
woman's offense with great cap tals upon ineffaceable
marble. For foreign lords
and princes, whose nimes cannot even
be mentioned in respectable circlcs
abroad, because they are walking
lazarettos of abomination, our
American princesses of fortune wait, and at
the first beck sail out with them into the
blackness of darkness forever. And in what
are called higher circles of society there isnow
not only their imitation of foreign dress and
foreign manners, but an imitation of forei-rn
dissoluteness. I like an Englishman and I
like an American, but the sickest creature on
earth is an American playing the Englishman.
Society n>eds to be reconstru' t-d on
this subject. Treat them alike, masculine
crime and feminine crime. If you cut the
one in granite, cut them both in granite.
If you write the one in dust, write the
other in dust. No. no, says ttio world, let
woman go down and let man go up. What
is that I hear plashing into the East River at
midnight, and then there is a gurgle as of
strangulation, and all is still. Never mindIt
is only a woman too discouraged to live.
Let the mills of the cruel world grind right
on.
But while I speak of Christ of the text,
His stooping down writing in the dust, do
not think I underrate the literature of th?
dust It is the most solemn and tremendous
of all literature. It is the greatest ot all
libraries. When Layard exhumed Nineveh
he was only opening the door of its
mighty dust. The excavations of
Pompeii have only Deen the UDdaspJ'ng
of the lids of a volume of a nation's dust
When Admiral Farragut and his friends, a
few years ago, visited that resurrected city,
the house of Balbo, who had been one of its
ch ef citizens in its prosperous days, was
opened and a table was spread in that house
which eighteen hundred and ten years has
been buried by volcanic eruption, and Farragut
and his guests walked over the
exquisite mosaics and under the beautiful
fresco, and it almost seemed like beiner entertained
by those who eighteen centuries aeo
had turned to dust. Oh. this mighty i
literature of the dust. Where are the
remains of Sennacherib and Attila and !
Epamimondns and Tamerlane and Tro- j
jan and Philip of Macedon and Julius i
Cnesar Dust! Where are the heroes J
who fought on both sides at Chn ronea. at |
Hastines. at Marathon, at Cressy, of the 110,- i
000 msn who fought at Agincourt, of the !
L'5'J.OnO men who faced death at Jena, of the
400,000 whose armor glittered in the sun at
Wragram, of the 1,0:10,010 men under Darius
at Arbella. of the 2,041,030 men under Xerxes
at Thcrmopvlfp? Dust!
Where are the guests who danced the floors
of the Alhambra. or the Persian palaces of
Ahasuerus? Dust! Where are the musicians I
who plaved and the orators who spoke, and
the sculptors who chiseled, and the architects
who built in all the centuries except
our own? Dust! The greatest j
library of the world, that which has
the widest shelves and the longest nis'es
and the most multitudinous volumes
and the vastest wealth, is the underground
library. It is the royal library, tbe continental
library, the hemispheric library,
the planetary librarv. the library of
the dust And all these library cases
will be opened, and all these scrolls
unrolled and all these volumes uneiaspeu ana
as easily as in your library or mino wo take
up a book, blow the dust off of it, and turn
over its pages. so easily will the T.ord of fie
Resurrection pick up out of this library of dust
every volume of human life and open it and
read it and display it. Aud the volume
will be rebound, to b set in the royal library
of the Kind's palace, or in the prison
library of the self destroyed. Oh, this
mighty literature of the dust! It is not so
wonderful after all that Christ chose,instead
of an inkstand, the impressionable sand on
the floor of an ancient temple, and, instead
of a hard p?n, put forth His forefinger with
the same kind of nerve, and muscle, and
bone, and flesh, as that which makes up our
own forefinger, and wrot3 the awful doom
of hypocrisy and full and complete foregiveness
for repentant sinners, even the worst.
And now 1 can believe that which I read,
how that a mother kept burning a candle in
the window every night for ten years, and
one night very late a poor waif of "the street
entered. The aged woman said to her: "Sit
down by the fire," and the stranger said:
"Why do you keep that light in the window.-"
The aged woman said: "That
is to light my wayward daughter
when she returns. Since she went away ten
years ago my hair has turned white. Folks
blame me for worrying about her, but you
see I am her mother, and sometimes, half a
a nirv^f \ nnon tlio Hnftr nnrl
look out; into the darkness and cry:
'Lizzie! Lizzie!' But I must not
tell you any more about my
trouble, for I guess, from the way you cry,
you have trouble enough of your own,
\Vhy, how cold and sick you seem! Oh, myl
can it be? Yes, you are Lizzie, my own lost
child. Thank God that you are home again!"
And what a time of rejoicing there was in
that house that night! And Christ again
stooped down. and in the ashes
of that hearth, now lighted up
not more by the great blazing logs than by
the joy of n reunited household, wrote the
same liberating words that He had written
more than eighteen hundred years ago in the
dust of the Jerusalem temple. Forgiveness!
A word broad enough and hfoh enough to
let pass through it all the armies of heaven, a
million abreast, on white horses, nostril to
nostril, flank to flank.
Hereditary XJeffencracy.
The evil of strong drink would be of comparatively
small magnitude if only those ad
dieted to its use were involved m tn.9 deplorable
consequences. The ed.tor of the Northwestern
Lancet, in a s-uggestivo article on
"The Medical Aspect of Inebriety," says:
"The close relationship of insanity, epilepsy,
and inebriety is strongly shown by the remarkable
manner in which, through heredity,
one form of diseaso may pass into anotner,
as where drunkenness in one generation is
followed by epilepsy or insanity in the succeeding
generations." It is this inevitable
nerve or brain deterioration on the part of
those of a previous generation \\bo indulged
in alcoholic beverages, and became parents,
which undoubtedly w ould. if careful investigation
should be made, account for the
presence therein of many at the present time
of those by whom our insane asylums and
hospitals are over-crowded. The drink evil
involves not only those immediately connected
with the drinker here and now, but
leaves a fearful legacy of suffering and incompetency
to future gene;-U;ons. ? Sutwaa!
Advocate.
Two Victims to Drink.
A peculiarly sad suicide occurred in St.
Louis the other morning, the victim being
James Gorman, the sixteen-year-old son of
Mrs. Mnry Gorman, a widow, whos<? family
consisted of the son and two grown daughters.
The cause of death was a dos* of Paris
ereen. and the suicide is due to dr.nk. For a
year past the boy bad been addicted to
drinking, and when under the influence of
liquor developed a suicidal mania. When
sober he was a model of industry and good
manners.
Annio McMasters, the sister of a famous
lawyer in Montreal, and a representative of
one'of the oldest and best lamilies in the
Dominion, has just been sent to the Martha
\\ asliington Home in Chicago, her incurable
appetite for drink Lavin? dragged
her down to the gutter. fc-'he has been in the
Bridewell, the House of the Good Shepherd
and the St. Joseph's Asylum, but as soon m
she gets out her old habit returns with undiminished
force. There were many traces of
I eauty in her swollen, disfigured face as she
stood before Judge Kersten. Her people in
Montreal have again been communicated
with, but lor obvious reasons their names
are withheld.
Barnum Iiroke Square. Off.
"I drank,'" says P. T. Barnum, more or
less intoxicating liquors from 1S:J7 till 1S47.
The last four ot these years 1 was in England.
and there the habit and my appetite
for liquor grew so strong from month to
month that I discovered if coutinued it
would certinlv work my ruia With a tremendous
erlort and a most determined reso
lution I broke the habit square off, and resolved
never to practise it again. I have re
Ilgiousiy Kept mat resolution wr mure timu
forty years. Had I not done so, I should
have been in my grave a quarter of a century
ago, for my health had already begun to be
airected t>y alcohol. I was so delighted with
my own escape that I traveled thousands of
miles at my own expense and gave hundreds
of free tsmperanco lectures iu every State
between Maine and Wisconsin, besido Missouri.
Kentucky, Louisiana and California
1 have gladly expended thousands of dollars
for temperance. 1 have built numerous houses
for moderate drinking workingmen on condition
that the}' would become teeto'allers,
and they subsequently paiu for the botites
with the money and extra strength gained
thereby."
Why One Man Stopped Drinking.
Charles E. Johnson writes tothe New York
TJV.iie.ss: lam a railroad ntan, and previous
to six weeks ago was a hard drinker. Let me
tell, for the bt-nefit of other young men, how
1 came to stop using it. 'ibiee companions
mid myself met by chance in Kansas City,
and had been "having a time," when one flay
u young ra lroad mau was badly injured by
the care. Somebody offered him a glass of
whisky. He said: "No, I ] romised no!"
"Iroinised who:'' somebody asked. "My
mother," he replied. "Take a litt e, it may
save your life," somebody said. "No, not to
suveiny life?I promised." 1 thought then
what i hnd premised my own mother when I
lelt home, and then and there 1 resolved belore
God never to touch a drop again, and
C*Oil helping me, I never will. My companions
u:ade the same resolve. I think those
lew words did more good in that crowd than
a thousand lectures.
Wasted Resources.
According t<> the census of 1S81 it fakes
?3.50V. 5 or capital invested to employ one
nibn in liquor manufacturing, it takes only
?1,(til. 11 of cap tal to employ one man in all
other manufacturing, fcio that the money
invested in lit|U< r manufacturing would keep
busy tbr.^e times ns many men as it now
dees if it were put. into other lines of manufacturing.
Dr. William Hargreaves ill his
"Our Wasted Risources.'' published by the
National Temperance Society of New York,
shows that if the $'.H.0,000,Mill now spent for
drink were spent for flour und grist-mill
products, where the farmers now raise 4f.000,000
bushels of grain for the liquor business
they would under 1 rohibition be reto
raise 5'5,&4o,tlM bushels of bread.
-Voice.
1 TEMPERANCE.
What I Have Seen.
I saw a mother give wine to her boy
The rain drops fall and fall:
Tbo pride of his parents, a household joyfc
A mother's blessing, her alL
I saw the cheek of the youth grow red?
The rain falls over the lea.
The light of his eye shown like jewels, they
said,
It spoKe of ruin to me.
I si w the youth drink again and again?
The rain falls heavily and fast,
I saw the mother's brow lurrowed with pain,
She was reaping her harvest at last.
I sew the j-outh go staggering by?
The rain clrops beat and beat.
Dull was the light of his beautiful eye,
I saw him fall in the street.
I heard the rabble cry shame! oh, 3hame!
The rain drops sob and sob,
I )<<wd the drunkard's once honored name
Shouted aloud by the mob.
I
I s:iw the youth Carrie?! home to his door?
The rain drops sob and sigh.
i ?aw the friends shun him who sought him
before
Saw him sink lower and die.
I ?aw the stone that tore only his name?
The rain drops chattcr and rave,
I sh w the mother with sorrow and shame,
Bowed to the brink of the grave.
?Ella Wheeler.
London's Juvenile Drunkards.
One day last week Lady Henry Somerset,
i a very earnest and eloquent champion of toj
tal abstinence, was initiated at Hereford into
j the Order of the hechabites, and in a long
' speech spoke out Irankly about drinking at
i vvhitechapel. "A woeic or two ago, on a
j Saturday night," she snid, "I was walking
down 'H hiteehapel road, and as I went a
! great longing came into my heart that I
I could take some of the leading men of out
j land down into the midst of that scene. Ohl
j the misery, degradation and sin thai were
| there, all springing from the feetof this awful
i drink traffic, which flaunts its brazen head in.
undisguised iniquity on all sides, house after
house vying with each other in leading men
and women into deeper sin. How they make
downfall easier and more certain! A >t contented
with the ordinary puolic-housu, they
have now invented a new method?that of
; having an archway in the open street, with
| only a counter; over which drink is served
I to the passer-by, so that the public need
j open no door that they pass. All these places
| are served by young girls. Your hearts
i would have sickened if you could have
j looked on those yourg faces. I say
! shame on us as a nation. In
] America the amount of drinking is enormous,
j But there is all honor to the nation in one re!
spect; their feeling about children and young
| girls does not exist in England. You never
j find a native-born American girl serving as a
I hnrmnirt in f.hn statps. On all the land over
i which wave the stars and stripes you will
j not And young girls placed in positions of
| such temptation and danger. I cannot deI
scribe the horrors of that scene in White|
chapel, the streets illuminated by the lights
i of gin palaces. There is the low theatre,
j which is doing the devil's work six days out
'Of seven. These theatres nre now being
licensed to sell drink on Sunday, as if six
; days are not enough! How can l put before
j you the sin and misery of that acene' To see
; the children Hocking out of those dens of sin!
i I state no exaggeration, no overdrawn pic|
ture. You have only to read the police re|
ports. Last year you will find in London
I alone 500 children under ten years old were
I taken up dead drunk, and there were 1500
: under fourteen, and 2000 under twenty-one.
| Oh! as I walked down the street it seemed as
i if He, called the Man of Sorrows, was by my
| side, and I prayed that there ia the midst of
j that sin He should be able to Fay: 'She hath
| done what she couldJ^?Pall Mall Gazette.
A Stoiy by John B. Gough.
A lady in Jersey City said to me once : " J
| have a son who at the time he was eighteen
veara of age came down stairs one New
I Year's mornine. and he said: 'Mamma,
! dear, Happy New Year ! Happy New Year J'
j kissed rue on both sides of my face, and after
j oreuktast he said : ' Now I am going out for
i the first time in my life to make regular New
1 Year calls; you know I have called occasion!
ally; I never make it a business; now I am
?oing all day to-day. Good-bje, mother.' "
he said she'sat in tiie bay-window and saw
1 him as he turned the corner, manly and sweet
I and clean and noble, and she was proud of
j her boy; thought of her boy all day long?
j all day. The bell rang in the evening rather
! strangely, and she said a curious sensation
j came over her as if something was wrong.
Instead of letting the girl go she went herself,
opened the door, and two young men
i bad brought home her boy so drunk he could
j not walk. Bring him in! They took
j him in. Lay him on the floor
Never mind the sofa, lay h:ra on the
| floor! bho said: "I sat down and took
1 that boy's hand in mine and looked at him.
I Oil, how* I did cry! He was so sweet this
i morning; now the breath is poisoning the at?
mosphere of this drawing-room. He was so
j lovely; now look at him! The lips seem
; swollen: the face absolutely seems as if the
j skin bad grown coarse in ten hours. I did
; cry. Then I tried to j ass my fingers through
j his hair, damp and matted; pushed it off
I from his forehead. Oh, I did cry; it seemed
| as though my heart would break. Mr.
i Gough, it I had felt that that was the work
! of my boy's worst enemy it; would have comj
forted me; i should havo been consoled." I
j said: ''A motlu r's love could shield him from
I his enemies in any direction. But th.s is the
| work of his friend! If that is the work of
| my boy's friend, God p:ty me! 1 have very
j little hope for bim. That was his first intoxiI
tion but not his last, and he is going to ruin;
j it is done in friendship."
Aiconoi as a Medicine.
Sonn striking instances are given of the
danger of taking alcohol as a mtd.c.ne. We
quote the following: "In a village adjacent
to my own native town in New hngland lived
a man eighty years of age. He was a pattern
of morality and integrity?a grand and noble
Christian man. He was a deacon in the
church, and to know him was to love him.
He was taken suddenly sick. At that time
it was customary and considered right to
drink; no one among his acquaintances kn'.-w
that he had any passion for stimulants, but
when on that btd ot sickness his physician
prescribed a stimulant, he said: 'Doctor, I
dare not drink it. Vears ago, before I came
to this section of the country, I was a miserable
drunkard. 1 had to leave my old home
and get away from my associates, to break
the tyrannous habit that held me, since
which time I have not dared to touch anything
of an alcoholic nature.' The doctor
laughed at him, however, and insisted upon
him taking the prescription as the one condition
of his recovery. He took the stimulent
and in les* than three years died with
delirium tremens. The old latent fires that
never go out had been roused, the treacherous
flames of passion burst out with redoubled
fury, and he could not conquer
them. It cannot be too strongly urged, or
too firmly grasped, that the only safe stand
\\a\'ex hoon HrinLrinrr mon to
I iUi muoo ?? UV UUIO ui VU V(* ?Mn?Wf|
I take is total abstinence forever from all that
can intoxicate."?The Outlook.
Temperance News and Notes.
Neal Dow says be has not drank wine for
sixty years.
A live business always springs out of a
dead saloon.
Temperance, employment, and a cheerful
spirit, are tho great preservers of health.
The court of last resort?after the other
resorts?the police court, the next morning.
Is it right to license a man to make paupers,
and tLen tax sober men to lake cure of
them?
Prosperity await? all men, and even pursues
some, but it is never found in the hauuti
of vice.
The general agent of the Prisoners' Aid
Society, of Baltimore, reports that out of
.IS!)'? persons committed to jail during the past
year, i.-jo-t wero cuuiuiiueu iui ui uunctiu^^
Ouc of 29,i*j38 arrests by the police, l'J.slo
were for intoxication. Out of ~~2;i admitted
to Bay View Asylum, 17'. 1 were intemperate.
All this is the "revenua" derived from oOJO
saloons.
The chemical test and the test of medical
exoeriments complete the proof that alcohol,
il all its forms, is a foo to life: and an investigation
of the alleged beneficial tendeucies
of alcoholic stimu ants will demonstrate
the fact that those benefits are limited to the
coin bae of the wretches who profit by the
ruin of the poison vice, a=> marauders profit
by the havoc of a destructive conflagation.
According to a parliamentary pnper, there
were in England and "Wales during the three
years 1&5-S7, 4-12,7o(j convictions for drunkenness
or offenses rising therefrom, and of
these 40,:;84 offenses were committed on Sunday.
In the Metropolitan Police District the
number of convictions fell from 16,758 in
1885 to 14,S86 in 1S87 (and this was in spite
of a rise to IS,578 in the intervening year)
while Sunday convictions fell from 1389 to
to 1217 in the same interval.
V ; - K-. .-, , - <' ' r '-v - - , .
"RELIGIOUS READINGS
Bejjln With God.
Begin the day with God!
He is thy sun and day:
He is the radience of thy dawn,
To him address thy lay.
Sin? thy first song to God!
Not to thy fellow-man:
Not to the creatures of his land,
But to the Glorious One.
Awake, cold lips, and sing!
Arise, dull knees, and pray;
Lift up, 0 man, thy heart and eyes;
Brush slothfullness away.
Look up beyond the e clouds!
Tiiither thy pathway lies;
Mount up, away, and linger not,
Thy goal is yonder skies.
Cast every weicht asido!
Do battle with each sin;
!Fight with the faithless world without,
The faithless heart within.
Take thy first meal with God!
He is thy heavenly food!
Feed with him, on him: he with thee
Will feas*, in brotherhood.
Take thy first walk with God!
Let him go forth with thee;
X3j scream, or s?a, or mouuut.u patn,
Seek still his company.
Thv first transaction be
With God hims If above;
So shall thy bu^in ss prosper well,
And all thy days be love.
?Bonar.
Christian Homes the Hope of the
World.
Every thiug that is good in the church or
| in society is first planted, tended, shielded,
nurtured in good homes. A thoroughly
Christian home implies a great deal. The J
spirit of Christianity aims at the totality of
our boiug, mind and heart, as well as conscience.
There are many sides to our nature |
and all need to be duly cultivated. The
science of life is the greatest of the sciences.
The art of life is the chief of all the arts.
And it would be nonsense to suppose that all
thus could come about by any sort of blind
and idle chance. A home that is really good,
that is radically and thoroughly Christian, is
a center of eager, incessant, manifold activities.
It is full of animation. It is alive to
itself and keenly sensitive to its surroundings.
Every thing that is human is of interest to it.
Each true Christian home seems to itself to
be the very center of the world, from which
its lines of intelligent sympathy reach out
everywhere. The home, no more than the individual,
does not exist for it- elf. If it tries
to, it will miserably fail. Every good fami?
? - -C ?.
jy IS COHSCHJUS Ul Ueiny yum ui tug
family of which God is th9 Father; and.
naturally, its members, as if it were a kina
of soul hunger with them, are eager to keep
in c ramunicalion with the deepest longings,
the worthiest actions the noblest thoughts,
the finest utterances, of others everywnere,
past and present, ana so cf striking int > the
swim and mid-current of all the best and
mightiest life of the world. If Christian
missions have any meaning, it is in the creation
and multiplication of good hemes.
Gocd hemes are the hope of the world.?
Advance.
The Providence of God.
It has been said that an honest atheist
does not exist. We might go farther and
say that it is impossible for one to be a serious
student of human life and not recognize
the sustaining, guiding, governing hand of
the God of providence, as well as the hand of
the Creator. We see the providence of God
in its direct application to men and their
affairs. However confused the currents of
human affairs may seem in their present
state, however tangled the web of life may
appear irom our suuiupumi, _yeu w mo ioview
of a long period of human history,
equally confused and opposing currents appear
blended and d rectea in one channel and
for one purposo, and the providence of God
is distinctly seen shaping and guiding the
varied streams thr ugh all their course.
So, too, of individual life it is true that
"Man's goings are of the Lord." He does
not start in life alone; it is not of his own
design that he starts at all. He is placed in
this world and let through it by an unseen
hand. His early training, his education, his
whole course of lifo from the cradle io the
grave is passtd under tha providential care
and guidance of his Creator. This becomes
more evident whan we sea how few men carry
out that plan of life which had be.'n
marked out for them by their pareuts or
by themselves.
How different, too, are the remits of effort
; from that wliL-h was contemplated at the
' outset of a career! A hi.mblo. unknown,
j fri< ndU-fs orphin is ra sed to the highest
| point of distinction and prosperity. Another
j man, with every advantage which wealth
and position an I friends could afford, sinks
into obscurity and negltct. Much is doubtless
duo to individual character, but yet how
great the diversity in i he success of persons
who arj similar in their characters, attainments,
and advantages! S -me men arc born
great, some achieve greatness, and s me have
greatuess thrust upon them. The race is not
always to the swift, nor the battle to the
stro' g, nor riches to men of understanding.
So universally is it acknowledged to be true,
even by those who are irreligious and even
r * *?* ir? mnri flint walk
| proilMltr, uiat iv 10 uu?
eth to di ect his steps," that it has become a
proverb that "man is the creature of circumstances."
We need not go beyond personal experience
to find abundant illustration of this
providential care of God. There are few
who have not been led in a way that they
knew not; few who, if piously inclined, cannot,
in looking back over their prist live-", see
that the finger of God plainly pointed out the
path in which they were to walk; who have
not fe'.t the strong grasp cf God's hand holding
them back from evil, his words of love
drawing them to himself, and his light shining
into their hearts, and on that road which
ho l ad made straight and pla n for their
weak and stumbling feet, or thorny cr difficult
to test their self-confidence, and bring
them to a humble and patient reliance upon
the on y true s rength.
How often h ve those plans that seemed
the best, been frus!rated; prospects which
were bright with the rainbow of hope been
darkened by clouds of misfortune, purposes
formed for life been blown away like ch ff
before the tempest, ways cf sorrow opened
before us wherein our feet were forced t >
tread, and avenues closed forever, in which
we had deemed that we might walk joyful
witln ut interruption! So, t< o, the ble.-sings
which have brightened our lives have come
irom the m st unexpected quaiters, and
often through our greatest and sorest trials.
Our success has been the most complete when
we d' spaired of accomplishing anything, and
an enterprise which we were almost ready to
abandon has been productive < f sudden profit
and advantage. Every one who reviews
his life with religious reflecti n is
surprised to see how little influence his own
plans have exerted upon that iife, ana now
evident it is that "there's a divinity that
shapes our ends." In spite of our conscious
freedom our firmest decisions have
been overruled, we have done th? very
things that we pledged ourselves not to do,
and have neglected or forgotten those
things which were once foremost in our
thoughts. God has directed all our efforts,
marked out our course, and introduced us
to new and unthought-of scenes. Infidels
call this directing rower "chnnce," th irreligious
call it 'late" or "accident," but the
Christian humbly agr es with the wise King
of Israel, "A man'-heart deviseth his way,
but the Lord directeth his steps."
Faith spans the space between the real
world of sense ana the more real world of
hidden life; so that a man, standing on the
solid ground may close his eyes to sense,
and tall at the feet of the Unseen, and worship
in the felt preseuca of the Invisible.?
Rev. J. C. Gillam.
Wine or "IVaicr.
A lady once asked a min ster to take wine
with her. When he declined on the ground
that he was a total abstainer, she said: "Does
* ? ..p
1101 cue iJlltie leil us. \ivver> i-rroiuiu ui vjw
is good, and nothing to be refused if it be received
with thanksgiving?' You are refusing
a good creature of God." The minister,
pointing to the wine she held in her hand,
said: "h*ra.v, madam, who made that wine?"
Kbe answered: "I suppose it was made by
man." "And pray," said he, "who made
this water:" "God," she replied. "Then,"
said the minister, "have you not made a mistake
in charg.ng me with refusing a good
creature of God when 1 refuse that which
man made, and accept that which God
made?" l'ho lady instantly saw that sho was
in the wrong, and frankly acknowledged
her error.?Youth's 'temperance Banner.
HOUSEHOLD MATTERS.
Care of UmbrellasUmbrellas
will last much longer if,
when they are wet, they are placed hanile
downward to dry. The moisture
falls from the edges of the frame, and
the fabric dries uniformly. If stood handle
upward, as is commonly the case, the
top of the umbrella hold3 the moisture,
?wing to the lining under the ring; it
?onsequently takes a long time to dry.
md injures the silk or other fabric with
which it is covered. This is the main
iause of the umbrella wearing out so
loon at the top. Umbrella case3 are re ponsible
for the wear of the silk. The
lonstant friction causes tiny holes that
Appear so provokingly early. "When not
in use the umbrella should be left loose,
wd when wet left loose to dry.?Houseei/e.
New Table DelicaciesSomething
novel and altogether dclifMmia
will ha spnt. tn fhft cotton nalace
in a display from Natchez, Miss., where
Miss Maria Chotard is busily engaged in
compounding a couple of new table delicacies.
Miss Chotard brews from the
tiny ivory-white flowers of the sweet
olive tree, a clear, smooth and pale amber
syrup that is exquisite in flavor, and
unrivaled as an iced summer beverage.
Uncommonly good to look upon
when the cork is once removed, a perfume
of intoxicating fragrance is exhaled
that fills the whole room with its subtile
bouquet and order of Southern gardens
in spring time. Miss Chotard has succeeded
in making a confection of these
blossoms of the olive that is uneijualed
among the crystalized flowers, and to
the list of bonbons had added a pecan
paste also very, very good, indeed. The
favor these novelties would meet with
among strangers looking eagerly for
everything peculiarly local is prophesied
as phenomenal for their manufacturer.?
New Orleans Times-Democrat.
Old Clothes.
It is a mystery to many people how
scourers of old clothes can make them
almost as good as new. Take for instance
a shiny old coat, vest or pair of
trousers of broadcloth, cassimere or diagonal.
The scourer makes strong, warm
sjap suds and plunges the garment into
it, souses it up and down, rubs the dirty
places, if necessary puts it through a
second suds, then rinses it through
several waters and hangs it ouf to dry
on the line. When nearly dry he takes
it in, rolls it up for an hour or two and
then presses it. An old cotton cloth is
laid on the outside of the coat and the
iron passed over that until all the wrinkles
are out, but the iron is removed befVo
afflom nodooa frt vicA frnm thft
goods, else they will be shiny. Wrinkles
that are obstinate are removed by laying
a wet cloth over them and passing the
iron over that. If any shiny places are
seen, they are treated as the wrinkles
are; the iron is lifted while the full
cloud of stean rises and brings the nap
up with it. Cloth should always have a
suds made especially for it, as if washed
in that which has been used for white
cotton or woolen cloths, lint will be left
in the water and cliDg to the cloth. In
this manner we have known the same
coat and pantaloons to be renewed time
and again, and have all the look; ana ieei
of new garments. Good broadcloth and
its fellow cloths will bear many washings
and look better every time because
of them.?Farm, Field and Stockman. .
Uses for Salt.
We have found many uses for salt besides
the seasoning of our food, and it is
so inexpensive that it i3 within the react
of everyone. It will kill weeds, when
sprinkled on the walks, remove slight
fruit stains, promote the growth of th(
hair, dissolved in alcohol it removes
grease spots from cloth, and when put
in the wash water prevents black calicoes
from fading.
After a carpet is well swept, go over il
with a clean cloth -and clear salt watci
and the colors will be greatly brightened
or, if in a hurry, scatter the salt over th(
carpet before sweeping and the resull
will be the same.
No compound should be used in wash
J-l! .. 1 ?,l A ,. ?
lDg aeiiuart; uuiuicu ;;yuus, a iiouuiut vy.
salt in the water will set the colors ol
light canbrics and lawn.
Salt sprin'ded plentifully on icy door
steps has a better and cleaner elect than
ashes.
Willow furniture and straw mattinp
are cleansed by washing with salt auc
water.
When eaten with nuts, it aids diges
tion, is used a3 a blood purifier, and wil
instantly relieve heartburn if half a tea
spoonful in a little cold water be taken,
It is also soothing to weak and tired eyea
If applied immediately, it remove.1
ink-stains. Add a pinch of salt to th<
whites of egcrs to make them frotl
quickly, and wnen anything is burning
on the stove sprinkle salt over it to pre^
vent any disagreeable odor.
A nightly^gargle of a^t and watei
strengthens*" the throat 'tfind keeps of
bronchial attacks. Even for a sting thii
useful substance is caUed io-to' use
malce a thick plaster of moisteied salt
bind on the place, and i&e^jgapom wil
he extracted. 'fcjtr
To kill insects or worms atlhc foot o
houseplants, pour strong salt waW ove
the earth, being careful not to touch thi
leaves of the plants. If thfrlfae catches 01
fire, never throw water down th^lpfc'mney
as it ruins the carpets; use coarse j^ilt in
stead. When soot drops on Ae^rpet
cover the spot thickly wita Jalt, toil
sweep up.?De'roit Free Press.
Cold Puddings.
Cold puddings are dainty an%^|ppetizing,
besides being more healthlpnthat
warm puddings. They are mon con
venient, as they can be prepared tne dai
before wanted, and in cold weather will
keep a week, thus greatly lightening th<
hou-ekoepor's labor. So many new colc
puddings are now made by laary cooks
that a variety may be ha-1. The rocif?e;
here given can be selected from to suii
almost every occasiou.
Farina Pudding?Boil a quart ol
milk, thicken with f.trina; add one cuj
of sugar; take from the tire and stir ii
four eggs. Flavor with cxtrict of nut
meg; bake; sift sugar over the top auc
set in the stove to brown. P^at cold.
Snow I'udding?Cover ha7 an ounc<
of gelatine witb a little com water anc
let cook half an hoar. Then pour ovei
a pint of boiling water; add two cup:
of sugar and the juice of three lemons
stir until the su;ar is dissolved; strain
and set on ice. When cold boat with ar
egg beater until whiteas snow; frost th<
whites of four eggs and stir; c.wl a pud
diug mold, pour in the pudding a&ii
set away to harder.
Cold Bread Pudding?Tut in th:r
slices a small loaf of stale bread: wash
and pick one pint of currants; butter the
slices of bread. Put a layer of bread ir
the bottom of a pudding mold; sprinkle
with the currants; put in more brend
and currants, untd all is used. Boat
four eggs and half a cup of sugar together,
with one pint of milk and a
little grate 1 nutmeg:; pour over the
bread; let stand half an hour; bake until
brown: s.et away to cool, and serve
with cream sauce.
Cornstarch Pudding?Put a quart ol
milk on to boil; mix four tablespoonfal*
of corn-starch with a littlfi cold witeH
and add to the boiline milk. Let cook
until thick and smooth. Beat the whites
of four eggs stiff; add half a cup of
sugar to the milk, then the whites of
the eggs; stir all together over the fire;
take off; flavor with vanilla; pour in a
pudding mold and set on tne ice t#
harden. Serve with cold vanilla sauce.
? V urier-Journal
Wanton Destruction of Game.
Residents in the west and northwest
portions of Texas will call the attention
of the present Legislature to the wholesale
deduction of deer which is now ii
progress in these sections. The animal*
are killed simply for their hides, and th?
slaughter is said to be something lur
precedented. The killing is fair enough,
as it is all done with the rifle. It is thi
constancy with which it is done and th<
purpose of which is objected to by thoM
most affected. Ten years ago an entire
section OI COUDtry, yvuiuu 19 uun an. uuder
fence, literally swarmed with buffalo.
They were exterminated, however, in
three years' time, and strictly by use ol
the rifle. The deer bids fair to go in th?
same way. Captain George S. Deats.
who has lately made a trip through thai
part of the country, details some rathei
remarkable facts in connection with the
deer-killing industry, which has lately
assumed large proportions.
"In riding across the prairie," he says,
''my nose would be frequently saluted
by a stench, which, as I proceeded up, ^ ^
the wind, would become nearly unbeara- %?$
ble. My first experience of this kind
puzzled me, but I soon grew to know
that it meant a deer camp. They are all \ < <18
alike, perched on the side of some stream
for the water's sake, and in a country
which is overrun with game. They are
generally owned by from four to six men,?
skilled hunters and shots. Hung on
every hand, spread out upon the ground
or in bundles, are the hides of the deer
in a!l stages of pieparation, from ths
fully dried to the warm and bloody
I The places have a scent on tnem ten aeI
grees worse than a tanyard. The men
engaged in the business are absolutely .M
indefatigable in the pursuit of the call-t
ing, and, as I said, are very skiiful. It
is do uncommon thing for them to bajf
five deer apiece in one day. This means, . M
with raost of the gangs, clearing theiT|
neighborhood of the animals at the rate.
of thirty a day. It does not take much
calculation to make it plain that the
deer will not last long at this gait. When '
an animal is shot it Is skinned where it
falls, and its juicy fiesh left for the buzzards.
The head waters of the Frio and:
Devil's Rivers are especially effected! .. ^
just now by the hide-hunting gentry,!
and the destruction there is fearfuL
They are doing nothing contrary to law,
but in their peculiar labor only the
Legislature can reach them. If it faile
or refuses to act it will be guilty of
criminal neglect.?Globe-Democrat.
Hmitlnv tlia AntfllnnR.
An ordinary horse could not overtake
a prong-horn; it must be a goodanimal,
| what the plain men oall a stager. Th?
i speed developed by the little animalfl if
astonishing. At tirst tbey outrun -the
| fleetest greyhound, but their delicate
, limbs fail them in a long run over a
rough country, and they ultimately fall
[ a victim to the sportsman who can shoot
. well from the saddle while going at full
A sport more exciting can hardly tx
imagined. The game has a fair chanc*
for its life; only the good rider andfeho*
can bring them down, and it must be &
, good rider who will go over the waahei
t j and sand-wastes of the Mojave an6
, i Arizona deserts at full speed.
. j The antelope is taken in several ways, jiM
j j the most popular being that described)
, I but perhaps the most exciting js to fol;
j low the gamy little creature with th?
j | sabre, run it down^literally, and by skill
J of arms bring it to the ground. Th?
i' Mexicans often adopt this method in
' I trials of skill, the sport giving remarkaI
' b!e tests of horsemanship. It is possibli
II to stalk the antelope, but only on rare
11 occasions. When the little animals
j were very common they were often taken
. j by a simple expedient; one man would
-! o*onri rtn Vii<? head with lecra wavinjr in
f the air, making as many curious move:
ments as he could, while a comrade
? i crouched behind him, resting his ritle
l either under his arms or over his head.
This combination so puzzled the antelope
P that it would, in the majority of cases,
[ be impelled by its own curiosity to investigate,
and so would slowly aoproach.
This was only possible when the wind
j was blowing from it to the hunter, as the
_ I very slightest scent would be fatal to the
; scheme. If the hunter is skilful, the
' | prong-horn may be induced to come
within rifle-shot and so fall a victim to
' its own curiosity.?Harper's Weekly.
1 A Farmer's Success.
| Speaking of "little things," I have in
! mind now u man who fifteen years ago
r bought a farm here in Connecticut foi
. SSO.nJ. navinar down what cash he could,
I and giving a^mortgage of $4">0U for the
. | balance. The general line of his farm
' i operations has been the same as hit
j' neighbors',, in addition to which he has
i been lookiag about the farm for brush to
f cut and stone to pick up, touching up
j the pastures with a little top dressing
J here and there, gathering leaves in faL
x ' and muck in winter to add to his
manure pile. With a good dairy, pigs
[, and pouitry, and a large fruit and vege"!
table gardeD, and with other "little
' things" that can be picked up about the
j firm from time to time, he is marketing
something in the village two or three
days in the week all through the year, y
! and thus aiways has cash to meet the
Jl daily expense?. A family of five hav#
_ ; been well educated, the mortgage paid
" off, mauy improvements made on the
I : place, and he is several thousand dollars v >3
s i ahead in money safely invested. His
r neighbor*, who have only been ablo to
just make a living, will tell you he
5 spends too much t mc "fussing with
' little things,'' yet after all has been
; ' mighty lucky.''?Hirt/ord Courant.
^ An Army or Menial?.
j A great many people have been surprised,
when attending the \ anderbilt
[ entertainments during the past year 01
more, to notice the marvelous number o!
servants in livery. After the English
\ fashion, this household army is usually
drawn up in line ia the hall and the
1 guests pass into the drawing room with
3 u line of servants on either side. Thi ,>]
; question that naturally arises is, what in
1 the world does the family do with this
1 army of menials when they have no so*
; c:al a'fair on hand and are not entertaming.
As a simple matter of fact il
may be explained that these servants ari|
not regular \ anderbilt attaches. 'i'hejf
1 are only taken on when the occasion re1
quires their services. In the languago
! -.f tlir? thi'.itrc. ihcv are the "e.vtr;l
1 ballet." The liveries in wh'ch they ap1
pear are supplied them by the butler ol
the house :rom an immense trunkful of
: such garments which have been imported
and are constantly kept on hand. Thtf
1 butler's wardrobe contains lifty or seven1
ty-five such suits of livery, so that ni?
i matter what the pecul:arities of size and
; shape among these hap-ha'ard domestics
! may be, it fs a comp&rtively easj thing
! to fit them out.? Town Topict.
&.
- 1
> - i. .-?i