The Abbeville press and banner. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, May 28, 1890, Image 2
A PERFECT DAY.
White roses are swaying
Ami meekly displaying
Their shell-fashioned petals,
So fragile and cold.
While bluebirds are flying
Where alders are sighing,
The winds on the wavelets
The lilies unfold.
O'er meadows the brightest
Drift cloudlets the whitest,
Down softest and bluest
Of summery skies.
The apple tree twinkles,
And in the air sprinkles
Its blossoms that flutter
Like white butterflies.
The crystal brook gushes,
The wild flower blushes,
The trailing arbutus
Is pink on the slope;
The valleys a-tremble,
That Eden resemble,
Are sunny and fragrant
With kisses of hope.
Ob, hours serenest.
The rosiest, greenest.
Gold-vestured and graceful
As swans on a stream!
Our souls keen reneatinsr.
"Oh wherefore so fleetiug,
Like faces we only
Can see in a dream'r"
?Ii. K. Munkittrick, in Youth's Companion.
THE WEDDING GIFT.
"A package for you," said the dearest
girl in the world, as she ran iorward and j
brought me a a long, narrow box. "An- j
other wedding gift, I am sure. I won- i
der what it is and from whom it can be." ;
Angelica clasped her hands, and
looked so unutterably happy that my cup 1
of joy was full to the brim. "Who would
be more exultant than we two? It was i
the first week after our wedding, and we ;
had just returned to our cozy nest at
1139 North Three Hundred and Seventy- j
third street, in the famous city of Cos-1
mopolis.
Another wedding gift! My ardent ,
fancy rapidly evolved its hidden
possibilities, from a dainly fruit-knife to
a chaste spoon, from an elaborate candelabrum
to an old-fashioned pair of
tongs. What could it be ?
"It may be a parasol for me," said
Angelica, cviug the package affection- j
atelv.
' Or an umbrella for me,'' I rejoined,
with a quizzical look.
"Or a roll of silk, my dear," she hazarded.
"Or a bootjack, my love," 1 replied, j
seizing my knife and preparing to cut
the string.
'*It has taken a long time to come.any j
way," she added. "A whole week."
"You forget, sweetheart, that it came !
by a district messenger boyand with a
lonrrVi T nrxnrtaA fltA ttonl'orro TViiA?i 'in.
iau^u jl v|/vuv.u kiiv ?? uv.? wu
other box and a letter were disclosed to
view. 11
We both grasped the letter, and a)- ':
lowed the package to glide to the floor.
"Angelica!" I exclaimed, in ray most !
positive tones, "I recognize the handwriting.
It is?it is Uncle John's!" j(
"Oh, how nice! the dear, sweet old ; i
man. So gentle, is he-not, John? I always
said I would love him for your ]
sake." And she gave me one of her j
brightest glances. <
"Well, my love, he is a gentle creat- j 1
ure, to be sure; but?but he is decidedly j ]
eccentric. Any way, I am glad that he :
has thought of us, even at this late date, j ]
I was always led to believe that I was his \
favorite nephew." j j
"Of course he couldn't help loving > ]
rmi lipst nf all: T couldn't. rnuld I.
Johu?"
' No.indeed,little miax. You couldn't, *
you wouldn't and you shouldn't," I responded
with fervor, and then read aloud
his letter:
"Dear Old Boy?lam overjoyed to bear
of your marriage, and regret that a villainm
ous" attack of gout prevented my attendance j
at the ceremouy. I hear that your wife is i
all that is gentle and good. Happy fellow! '
I have known you so long aud intimately j :
that I heartily rejoice at your good fortune. (
Do come up with her to see me when the
first glow of the honeymoon is over. Mean- :
while I beg of you to accept the accompanying
as the most fitting gift I could think of
presenting to you both. It has virtues more j
valuable than fine gold, and its powers, preserved
and strengthened through the ages,
have an efficacy little dreamed of by mortal
man. uuaru u, anu it. wiuguam you. i. reas- i
ure it as your home's holiest phylactery. It
will be an infallible record of your affection; '
a dial of lo 'e, which never needs regulation; j
for it ruus by occult attachment ana psychic
force.
"In the fond hope that you will prize it for .
my sake and your owu, Affectionately,
"John Crump." j
"Goodness!" I cricd, as soon as I re- !
covered breath. "This s a pretty letter! J!
But what does the old fellow mean by j:
dial and attachment aud psychic force? ; :
Is he demented?"
"Oh, dearest!" Angelica exclaimed, : 1
edging away from the package, still on 1
the floor. "I am so frightened. Shall I | '
send for mother?"
"No," I rejoined, with rather pre- i j
juu iiwu u<n suuu iul :
your mother." And then I added, in my J:
most heroic tones: "There is no occa- J:
sion for alarm. The package surely is i '
harmless. It can't be a Florida alligator j
or a dynamite cartridge. Come, love, we i
shall open it together. One heart, one j
fate!'1 I exclaimed, melodramatically;
and soon before our astonished gaze was ! ;
presented the tiniest little thermometer !
in the world. j:
"Athermometer!'' was our first ex- j
clamation. "The brute!" was the next, j
"Docs he want to insult me?" I cricd ,
in a ra^e.
"Let us send it back?the odious |
wretch!" was Angelica's observation, the j
heroism of which can be gathered from !
the fact that my uncle was a millionaire,
aud 1 was supposed to be his favorite and
his heir.
A silence deep, profound, immeasur- j
able, fell upon js?our hearts aloue were
audible. A sudden ine.\p!ieuble mystery |
seemed to surround us both. The air be- j
came oppressive. What hidden agency ,
wits at work? \\ hat subtle powers were
inspiring us with apprehension? "We
could not speak, we could hardly breathe,
.so intense was our agitation. I glanced
again at the thermometer. My eyes were '
riveted upon some lettering, and we both
read simultaneously: "Love's Thermom- J
eter, patented by the Society for Psychic ,
Keseaivh." And straying downward our
astonished gaze caught these lines from
Browning:
" O worid, as God has inada it I All is beau- ,
ty;
And knowing this, is love, and love is
duty.
"What further may be sought for or de- :
dared f
"Why, Angelica," I cried, "this is a ,
strange, I might almost say, a wondrous !
thermometer," eying it more respectful- j
* '
ly, and with less wrath toward iny philosophic
uncle.
"Oh, John, look, look!" she exclaimed,
pointing to some words o' i the other side
of the plate:
' Between blisi hate
Doth oscillate
Your 11.oral fate."
4'Oh, darling," and the poor girl was
about to sob in her fear. "Shall we not
send for mother ?"'
"Send for your mother?" I repeated.
"Seud for fiddlesticks, said I, with reckless
irreverence. "Why, see there!
Look?" and along the side of the instrument
were the words: "Bliss heat, 120
degrees; affection. 100 degrees; friendship,
80 degrees; indifference, 60 degrees;
colduess, 40 degrees; aversion, 20
degrees; hatred. 0 degrees."
"Oh, John," was my wife's appeal,
"dou't keep the horrid thing in the
house. I am sure it is something dreadful;"
and a few tears did gather in her
eyes.
"Hare no fear, Angelica," I cried,
kissing away her tears. "Have no fear.
See, the thermometer stands at 120 de- :
grees; bliss heat, dearest. Hurrah for
psychic force!" And the dear girl actually
laughed iu the swift transition of
feeling, and joined in the rapturous
hurrah. "Hurrah for Uncle John!" we <
then both exclaimed together, and An- j
gelica kissed the thermometer in her enthusiasm.
The warm-hearted girl! Bliss
heat, now and forever! How kind, how (
noble of dear uncle, to send us what 1
would be a perpetual photograph, as it ;
were, of love's youug dream! Aud that ]
evening I prayed?Angelica joining in
the aspiration?that uncle's gout would ,
soon forever disappear, and we resolved ]
to invite hiin for a leugtliy visit. Then, |
toward midnight, we stole down cauti- ]
ously to the dining-room, where we had
arranged a lovely niche for the thermome- 1
ter, and with what rapture did we note <
how the psychic force still stood at bliss ,
heat?120 degrees. ]
' So shall it ever be!" was my pious ]
exclamation, and Angelica responded
with a fervent hand-clasp.
******
I wish to relate faithfully and soberly
the history of that wedding gift, and its .
inliuecce on our lives aud characters. If
I relied on my memory alone I might
~ ? m^noni. in flrt C\
pernaps exuggcrmcj ui a^|/cai -w uw
Happily there is another resource, and (
one whose exactness aud fidelity can be j
depended upon. It is my diary, wherein j
I ara accustomed to chronicle the throb- ^
biugs of my iuner life and the record of
each passing day. A few pages will tell
the whole eventful story.
July 10th?Angelica was a charming
vision at breakfast. She is bewitching j
in every mood, and how ardently I love
her. The muffius were exquisite. Dear, <
noble little woman, so tender and so af- j
fectionate! How beautiful she bakes!
It will be rapture to teach her German,
which is my passion. Shall iustrnct her j
accordiugto the natural method, and then .
read Don Carlos to her. Its ideal senti- ^
ments, its glowing imaginarv, its magniti'
o o o * , I
cent style, will inspire her with enthusiasm
.... The thermometer at bliss heat s
is our daily benediction. "We gaze at it l.
at all hours, and then at each other. Both j
tell the same story. How sweet is existence?surely
life is worth living. It is j
two weeks since our wedding.
June 12th?A very curious occurrence
happened this evening at dinner. I was
just enjoying the roast lamb, when an 1
organ grinder appeared, and his monkey 3
begau to rub its nose against the window *
bars. "Get off!" I cried, "you wretch!" 1
"Ah, John, do let it play. I love mon- c
keys." "But, Angelica, that music dis- *
turbs my appetite. Begone!" I cried ^
igain to the man. Angelica pressed her *
handkerchief to her eyes. My angel ^
weeping! I gazed at the thermometer. r
[t marked 100 degrees, and the psychic e
force was rapidly falling. "Here!" I a
shouted to the mau, "here is a dollar,
ind come every evening at this hour."
The man griuned, the monkey took off
its cap, my angel smiled, and I was
saved. Again the thermometer stood at
120 degrees. It was a narrow escape. ?
Life, life, thou art a precipice?one false
step, one heedless act, and the abyss re- *
ceives us. To thiuk that our bliss was ^
almost wrecked by a monkey! j.
June 14th?I gave my darling her first
lesson in German by the natural method, j
It went off beautifully. She has a lovely ,
A.ussprache; the words roll like velvet g
from her lips. To hear her say das <
Thermometer is an education in itself. c
On coming home to dinner I found Angelica
very much flurried. She explained j
that the cook was ill, and she herself had
to prepare the repast. I congratulated E
her a thousand times until her eyes
sparkled like uu electric light. I told *
ber afterward, in a casual way, that the j,
soup would have tasted better with mint
instead of mace, and she burst at once J
into tears, while to my horror the ther- j
mometer oegan rapiuiy iatung uum si*i,y E
degrees was reached. "Angelica!" I
cried, "I was only jesting." And, f
soothed by my endearments, her tears y.
vanished, and she actually asked me to
give her a second lesson in German; *
while the thermometer just as rapidly ^
rose to bliss heat. It was again a nar- i
row escape. And when I told her of it
3he murmured: "Dear John, forgive me! Jj
I am so impatient!" Was ever mortal so
happy? _ s
June 15th?Happines is a sportive god. j
It is never an abiding possession. So
happy yesterday, aud to-night, as I write
these lines, how wretched! Aud from
such a trifle, too. My darling asked me
why I did not come home earlier to din- 1
ner. I laughed at her remark, and gave t
a bautering reply. "lam not jesting," 1
she rejoined. "You used to spring up j
the stairs, aud now you saunter slowly." r
"But, my love. I am tired when I comc I
home." "If you really loved me," she s
responded, "you would never be fatigued, j
But you are tired of me, I suppose," and s
.1.. i* 1 :..i_ i t r..u ...?n., ..
!M1U uur&l# 1ULU IITU1*. JL it it i I'uuj YtAtu |
at her want of sense, and such a cold, s
dull paiu, burn of disappointment and 1:
despair, seized me that 1 answered harsh- n
ly. She looked at the thermometer, and \
my paralyzed tra/.e noted it swiftly fall- t
in if, despite my imploring gestures, i
Down, down, sank the psychic force un- i:
til it reached twenty decrees (aversion), (
and with a shudder she left the room, re- t
marking stingiugly: "This is your work, j
sir."' My work! My work! And I <
adore her, despite my harsh reply. Oh, I
life, life, thou art a mystery! And c
woman, thou art doubly a mystery. And I
Angelica, thou art trebly a my3tery. t
There was no German lesson to-day.... r
To think that she cherishes aversion? 1
she of all beings. And I thought it t
would be "bliss heat'' forever.... e
I have not the heart to continue these c
extracts from my diary. Their general (
tenor can be very well gathered; they re- 1
corded such changes in temperature that 1
we were both in despair. JSach mood on 7
our parts was faithfully, too faithfully,
recorded. Each transcient impulse was
unerringly transcribed. Each trifling
word, each wandering frown, influenced
the thermometer, and wo Were both so
alarmed by its indications that we became'positively
unhappy. We wished it
always to be bliss heat, and were not
prepared for the variations.
One evening?it was hardly a month
after the wedding?wc were, seated
quietly in the parlor, when the bell rang
und in walked Uncle Johu.
"I never felt so well in my life, children,"
he exclaimed in his heartiest
tones. "Gout all gone"'?and he slapped
his leg to prove the fact?"so I thought
I would come to the city and see you."
And he kissed Angelica and pulled my
whiskers. Then he burst into a merry
laugh, which was so catching that my
wife and I laughed too, the first time in
two hours, for at dinner that wretched
thermometer had fallen to sixty degrees
(indifference), aud we were in despair.
"Come, come, kitten," said he to
Angelica, caressing her iorehead; "tell
me all about it. What is the mystery?
Woe rtnt. fpllnw l>ecn vexincr vou? Come,
let your old uncle be your father confessor.
Now, then, out with it."
Angelica's response was to cling to the
old gentleman and sink her head upon
his shoulder. I am sure the dear girl
was weeping.
"John, John, you wretch!" he exclaimed.
"What have you been doing
to her? What makes my child so worried?"
And the old fellow began to pet
her furionslv.
My courage gave way. At the sight
:>f her weeping all self-control was gone.
[ made a clean eonfession, and blamed
the thermometer for the change in our
home.
"Come, children," said he in his
blandest way. "Here, John, you take
3ne knee, and Angelica, my love, rest
jn the other. Now I have you both, and
[ wish you to answer me truly. Do you
love each other?"
"Yes, yes!" was our reply.
"Then what is the trouble?"
"The trouble is just here. We wish
it always to be bliss heat, but that thermometer,
sir, marks every variation, and
t makes us both unhappy." And I took
jut my handkerchief and pressed it to
ny eyes.
"Ah," was his comment; "just as I
supposed. Come, now, I am going to
ecture you both. You demand a miracle,
[t is impossible to maintain bliss heat
for all time. Life most havo its transitions
ind variations?you might find it pretty
nonotonous otherwise. Do not heed the
luctuations if love is the central purpose,
md that is strong and abiding. But
lave patience and mutual consideration,
ind be quick to forget and forgive,
steer clear of all extremes and superatives.
Prefer the temperate zone, and
fear by year your happiness will be
eared on a foundation that shall never
:>e moved. Let your own hearts be
ove's thermometer; you will care less
or the other one, whose cfficacy?I
night as well tell you now?is purely imiginary.
It reflected only your own
noods, and your imaginations endowed
t with subtle powers. But enough.
] must be off before it is too late. Goodright,
children. Another kiss, Angelica.
TnVm "
"*wu vw*""
******
The thermometer still hangs in its
liche, but is has lost for us its charm,
ilthough its lesson was salutary. "VVe
lave learned the truth and beauty of
Jncle John's little sermon. We arc not
listurbed at any transient gust, for we
;now our hearts are true to each other.
IVo do not pine for bliss heat, and never
lave allowed our affection to sink to zero.
?Ve fiud blessedness enough in each day's
ecord, and, lookingat the bright side of
:very annoyance and sorrow, have secured
.bundaut compensation.?Frank Leslie's.
Financial Simplicity of the Boers.
A certain Mr. F., wishing to pur:hase
a farm in Africa, the Boer pro>rietor
diligently refused to accept bills,
:hecks or notes. lie would have his
>rice ($125,000) in sovereigns, or he
vould not sell. So the golden bullion
vas with much trouble brought to the
louse. "Will you not stop to dinner?"
sked the farmer, and at its conclusion
ilr. F., when bidding adieu, observed:
'Well, I suppose we may at last con
ider our transactions quite complete."
'Not quite," said the Boer; "you still
iwe me eighty-se^cn cents for the dinier."
The next episode was that the
armer, worried with the custody of so
ouch coin in his house, resolves with
aany misgivings to pay the purchase
Qoney into the Standard Bank, but the
ollowing week he demands to withdraw
lis deposit, and the hard cash is again
>roduced. He counts it over carefully,
,nd, once more reassured, shoves it back
nto the cashier's hands. The Boers do
iot, in fact, seem to have the slightest
:omprehension of the first principles of
inance. Another of this class asked a
>ank what would be the terms for his
>roposed deposit of ?125,000. "We will
five you six per cent.," replied the
lerk, not understanding the drift, of the
'You pay me for taking care of my
>roperty?" said the Boer. "No, no; I |
,m not such a fool as to believe that,
fou are up to some trick!" And h? intantly
broke off the negotiation.?
Blackwood's Magazine.
Outwitting a Shirker.
An Anglo-Indian officer, of the Bengal
Artillery, relates an anecdote of one of
hose soldiers who in military phrase are
:nown as malingerers, but whom common
teoplc would call shirks. A gunner,
tamed Ichabod Crabb, went to sec the
lospital authorities on the subject of a
trauge affection of the back,-which compiled
him to walk somewhat in the
hapcof a capital C. "I ain't in no great
win," he said, " 'cept when I tries to
tand herect, an' then me back seems to
>reak clean in two. I couldn't stand up,
lot if my life depended on it." As there
vas heavy gun-drilling going on at this
iine, Dr. Tritton formed his own opin
ou of the case, ami determined to let me
nan work out his own cure. He ordered
'rabb's breakfast to be placed on a high
:iij>boanl in the wall, to reach which the
jatient would have to stand erect. At
linncr-timc the cook reported Ciabb's
jreakfast to be uutouclied. "Put his
liuner in the same place," commanded
)r. Tritton, and the treatment was coninucd
throughout the day. The next
norning when the doctor called to see
lis patient, he found that his prescripioti
had been efficacious. Crabb had
:aten his supper and breakfast, and de:lared
himself fit for duty. "Cupboard
>abb," as he was called, confessed that
ic had tried to deceive the "old doctor,"
jut had found himself beaten.?Argoi
a. At.
REV. Dfi. TALMAGE.
THE BROOKLYN DIVINES SUNDAY
SEIOION.
Subjcct: " The Ascension of Christ."
Text: "Lift up your hearts, 0 ye. nates;
and be ye. lifted up, ye everlasting doors;
and the King of Glory shall come in."?Ps.
xxiv., 7.
In olden times when a great conquerer returned
from victorious war, the people in
wild transport would take hold of the gates
of the city and lift them from their hinges,
as much as to say: "This city needs no more
gates to defend it since this conqueror has
got home. Off from the hinges with the gates!"
avid, who was the poet of poets, fortells in
his own way the triumphal entrance of
Christ into heaven after His victory over sin
and death and hell. It was as if the celestial
inhabitants had said: "Here He comes! Make
way for Him! Push back the bolts of diamond!
Take hold" of the doors of pearl and
hoist them from their hiuges of gold! Lift
up your heads, 0 ye gates; and be ye lifted
up, ye everlasting doors; and the King of
Glory shall come in."
Among the mountains of Palestine no one
is more uplifting than Mount Olivet. It was
the peroratfbn of our Lord's ministry. On
the roof of a house in Jerusalem I asked,
"Which is Olivet}1" and the first glance transfixed
me. But how shall I describe
J-L - -1?_ _#
my emotions, wnen near ms uiuae ui
a journey, in which we had for two
nights encamped amid the shattered
masonry of old Jericho, and tasted of
the acrid waters of the Dead Sea, that crystal
sarcophagus of the buried cities of the
plain, ana waded down into the deep and
swift Jordan to baptize a mail, and visited
the ruins of the house of Mary aud Martha
and Lazarus, we found ourselves in stirrups
and on horse, lathered with the long aud
difficult way, ascending Mount Olivet? Oh,
that solemn and suggestive ridge! It is a
limestone hill, a mile in length, and 300 feat
high, and ?700 feet above the level of the
sea. Over it King David fled with a broken
heart. Over it Pompey led his devastating
hosts. Here the famous Tenth Legion
built their batteries in besiegement. The
Garden of Grethsemaue weeps at the
foot of it. Along the base of this hill flashed
the lanterns and torches of those who came
to arrest Jesus. From the trees on this hill
the boughs were torn off and thrown into
the path of Christ's triumphal procession. Up
and down that road Jesus had walked twice
a day from Bethany to Jerusalem, and from
Jerusalem to Bethany. xneret again ana
again, He had taught Hi? disciples. Half
way up this mount He uttered His lamentation:
"0 Jerusalem, Jerusalem!" From its
height Jesus took flight homeward when He
had finished His earthly mission. There is
nothing more for Him to do. A sacrifice
was needed to make peace between the
recreant earth and the outraged heaven, and
He had offered it. Death neelei to be conquered,
and He had put His resurrection foot
upon it. The thirty-three years of voluntary
exile had ended. The grandest, tendere3fc,
mightiest good-by ever heard was now to ba
uttered.
On Mount Olivet Jesus stands in a group
of Galilee fishermen. They had been together
in manv scenes of sadness and persecution
and had been the more endeared by
that brotherhood of suffering. They had
expected Him to stay until the day of coronation
when He would take the earthly
throne and wave a scepter mightier, and
rule a dominion wider than any Pharoah,
than anv David, than any Cssar. But now
all these anticipations collapse. Christ has
given His last advice. He has offered His
last sympathy. He has spoken His iast word.
His hands are spread apart as one is apt to
do when ho pronouces a benediction, when
suddenly tho strongest and most stupendous
law of all worlds is shattered. It is
the law which, since the worlds were created,
hold them together. It is tho law which
holds everything to the earth, or
temporarily hurled from earth, returns
it; the law which keeps the planets whirling
around our sun, and our solar system whirling
around other systems, and all the systems
whirling around the throne of God?
the law of gravitation. That law is suspended,
or relaxed, or broken, to let the body
of Jesus go. That law had laid hold of Him
thirty-three years before, when He descended.
It had relaxed its grip of Him but once, and
that when it declined to sink Him from the
top of the waves on Lake Galilee, on which
He walked, to the bottom of tho lake. That
law of gravitation must now give way to
Him who made the law. It may hold the
other stars, but it cannot longer hold th9
Morning Star of the Redemption. It may
hold the noonday sun, but it caunot hold the
Sun of Righteousness. Tho fingers of that
law are about to open to let go the most illustrious
Being the world has ever seen, and
whom it had worst maltreated. The strongest
law of nature which philosophers ever
weighed or measured must at last give way.
T4- will Kxoalr hhornplr nf Olivph nn'?"l
the heel of Christ's foot. Watch it, all ye
disciples! Watch it, all the earth! Watch
it, all the heavens! Christ about to leave
this planet. How? His friends will not consent
to have Him go. His enemies catching
Him would only attempt by another Calvary
to put Him into some other tomb. I will tell
you how. The chain of the most tremendous
natural law is unlinked. The sacred
foot of our Lord and the limestone rock part,
and part forever.
Leaning back, and with pallid cheek and
uplifted eyes, the disciples se9 their Lord rising
from the solid oartu. Then, rushing forward,
they would grasp His feet to hold Htm
fast, but thoy are out of reach and it is
too late to detain Him. Higher than the
toDs of the lisr trees from which they had
plucked the fruit. Higher than the olive
trees that shaded the mount. Higher,
until He is within sight of the Bethlehem
where He was born, and the Jordan where
He was baptized, and the Golgotha where
He was slain. Higher, until on stairs of
fleecy cloud He steps. Higher, until into a
sky bluer than the lake that could not sink
Him, He disappears into a sea of glory
whose billowinc splendors hide Him. The
fishermen watch and watch, wondering if
the law of nature will not reassert itself
and He shall in a few moments come back
again, and they shall see Him descending,
a....* tfo in ^irrht thftn
"-o a?,
the scarred side, than the scarred brow, anil
they may take again His scarred hand. Bat
the moments pass by and the hours, and r )
reappearance. Gone out of sight of earth,
but come within sight of heaven. And rising
still, not welcomed by one angelic choir likJ
those who one Christmas night escorted Him
down, but all heaven turns out to great Him
home, and the temples have espscial anthe.n,
and the palaces especial banquet, and the
streets especial throngs; anl all along the
line to the foot of the throne, for years vacated
but now again to be taken, there are
arches lifted, and banners waved, and trumpets
sounded, and doxologies chantjd, and
coronets cast down.
The anijols throned Flis chariot wheels,
An'! bore Him ta His throne;
Then swept their s;old;n hirpj nad sin?
"TIjj glorious work is done.''
It was th9 greatest day in heaven; As Ha
| <>es H i tin stjpsof the throne that thirtyThree
years bjfore He ab licite I for our al?\mta?e.
th"'" rises from all tin hosts of
heaven a shout, saintly, cherubic, sjraphic,
irchaugelic. "Hallelujah! Amen!''
O garden of olives, thou deir honore l spot,
The tamo of thy sjlory sit ill ne'er be forgot.
No wonder that for at least fourteen hundred
years the churches have, forty days ut'tor
Wont As23iisio.i Div: for tin bs
sons are most inspiring and'glorious. Ic
takes much of the uncertainty out of tin
idea of heaven, when from Olivet we sja
human nature ascending. The same body
that rose from Joseph's tomb ascended
from Mount Olivet. Our human nature is
iu heaven to- lay. Just as they had se.'ii
Christ for forty days, Ho ascended, hea l,
face, shoulders, hands, feet aud the entire
human organism. Humanity ascendod!
Ah, liowelosdy that keeps Christ in sympathy
with those who are still in the struggle
I " Ascended sears, face scars, hau 1 scars,
feet scars, shoulder scars! That will ker>
Him in accord with all tho suffering, with
all the weary, with all the imposed upon.
No more is He a spirit now than a body, no
more of heaven than earth. Tlios-; of tho
celestial inhabitants who nover saw our
world now walk around Him and learn from
His physical contour something of what our
race will ba when, iu the resurrection,
heaven will have uncoil at 31 -bodies as well
as uncounted spirits. Oa Asoansion Day Ho
lifted Himself through tin atmosphere of
Palestine, until, amid the immensities. Ha
disappeared. He was the only bsing the
world ever saw who could lift Himself; surely
if He could lift Himself He can do the lessar
deed of lifting us.
No star gos3 down but climhs another <<ky.
No sail sets hero excapc to risa o:i high.
Christ leads us all tha way; through tha
V
birth hour, for He was bora ia Bethlehem; 1,
through boyhood, for He passsd it ia Nazi- a
rath; through injustices, for He endured tin t
outrage? of Pilate's court room; through i
death, for He suffered it oa Calvary; through I
the sepulchre, for He lay thraa days within r
its darkened walls; through resurrection, t
for the solid masonry gave way on the first o
Easter morning; through asesnsioa, for fj
. Mount Olivet watched Him as He climbe i
the skies; through the shining gatas, for He f
entered them amid magnificent acclatm. k
And here is a gratifying consideration that g
you nevar thought of: "We will sea our v
Lord just as He looked on earth. As He t
rose from the tomb He ascended from Mount L
Olivet. We shall sea Him as He looked on a
the road to Emmaus, as He appeared in the d
upper room in Jerusalem, as He was that j
day of valedictory on the ridge from which t
He swung into the skies, iiow much we s
will want to see Him. o
I was reading of a man born blind. He was j
married to on9 who took cara of him all those g
years of darkness. A surgeoa said to him, j.
"I can remove that blindness," and so he c
did. His sight given him, a ro33 was handed 3
to the man who never before had seen a rose 0
and he was in admiration of it, and his fam- T
ily whom he had never seen before now a,p- j
peared to him, and h9 was in tears of rap- 8
ture, when he suddenly cried ont: "I ougat c
first to have a3ked to see the one who cured j,
me; show me the doctor." When from our ,
eyes the scales of earth shall fall, aad we have
our first vision of heaven, our first cry ou?h1
not to be, "Where are my loved ones?" Our t
first cry oughtto be, "Where is Christ, who [
made all this possible? Show me the doctor!" c
Glory be to God for ascended humanity! t
Could we realize it, and that it is all in sym- 3
pathy for us, we would have as cool a cour? '
age in the conflict of this life as had Charles t
the T welfth wheh he was dictating dispatches f
to his secretary, and a bombshell fell into c
the room, and the secretary droppad his pan {
and attempted flight. Charios said to him: t
.-i: 1 Wk.t V.00 +V,,
"UrO on. wisn your wriuug; nunuuui ;
bombshell to do with the letter I am die- 5
tating?" If tlie ascended Christ ba oa our
side, nothing should disturb U3. ;
'Our fellow sufferer yet retains i
A fellow feeling in oar pains, :
And still remembers, in the akie3, "*?
His tears, His agonies, and cricj. ,
lam so glad that Clirist broke tha natural
law of gravitation when Ha shook off from
His feet tho clutch of .Mount Olivet. People
talk as though cold, iron, unsympathetic,
natural law controled everything. The reign
of law is a majestic thing, but tha God who s
made it has a right to break it, and again
and again has broken it, an4 again and asain
will break it. A law is only God's way of J
doing things, and if Hechoosas to do them
some other way Ho has a right to do so. A
law is not strong enough to shackle the Al- a
mighty. Christ broke botanical law when,
one Monday morning in March, on the way
from Bethany to Jerusalem, by a few words n
He turned a full leaved fig tree into
a lifeless stick. He broke ichthyological
law when, without any natural n
inducement, He swung; a great school of fisb
into a part of Lake Tiberias, where the fish- ,
ermen had cast their nets for eight or ten D
hours without the capture of a minnowj
and by making a fish help pay the tax by
yielding from its mouth a Roman stater.
Christ broke the law of storni3 by compel- d
ing, with a word, the angered sea to hush
its frenzy, and the winds to quit tfceir bel- .
lowing He broke zoological law when He *
made the devils Dosses3 tha swine of Gadara. c
Ho broke the law of economics when H<
made enough bread for five thousand people ?
out of five biscuits that would not ordinarily ?
have been enough for ten of the hungry G
He broke intellectual law when, by a word
He silenced a maniac in placidity. He
broke physiological law when, by a touch, *
He straightened a woman who for eighteen v
years had been bent almost double, anu when
He put spring into the foot of inhumatec
Lazarus, and when, without medicine, Hi s
gave the dying girl back in health to th? o
Syro-i'licenician mother, and when He madi
the palatial home of the nobleman resound
again with the laughter of his restored boy, b
aud when, without knife or battery, He se n
cataracted eyes to seeing again, and the drun ..
of deaf ears to vibrating again, and th> 11
nerves of paralyzed arms to thrilling again
and then when in leaving the earth He defiec n
all atmospheric law and physiological law =
and that law which has in it withes and tl
cables and girders enough to hold the uni 51
verse, the law of gravitation.
The Christ who proved Himself on so man]
occasions, and especially the last, superior to f'
law, still lives; and every day, in answer to 3
prayer for the good of the world, He is over l
riding the law. Blessed be God that we are
not tne subjects of blind fatality, but of a
sympathizing divinity. Have you nevei ,
seen a typhoid fever break, or a storm sud- I
denly quiet, or a ship a beam's-end right it- '
self, or a fog lift, or a parched sky break in ti
showers, or a perplexity disentangled,
or the inconsolable take solace, ot
v.** lmwTFowi rafnrm nf. <?nll nf orAvari Q
I have seen it; multitudes have seen 3
it. You have, if you have been willing ^
to se9 it. Deride not"the faith cure. Because
impostors attempt it is nothing against good
men whom God hath honored with marvel- A
ous restorations. Pronounce nothing impossible
to prayer and trust. Because you and
I cannot effect it is no reason why others 3i
may not. By the same ai gument I could n
prove that Raphael never painted a Madonna,
and that Mendelssohn never wrote an oratorio,
and that Phidias never chiseled a
statue. Because we cannot accomplish it
ourselves, we are not to conclude that others
may not. There are in immensity great
ranges of mists which have proved, a
under closer telescopic scrutiny, to be I
the store house of worlds, and I do j
not know but from that passage in .
James, which to some of us is yet misty and 1
dim, there may roll out a new heaven and a c
new earth: "The prayer of faith shall save ?
the sick." The faith curists may, in this v
war against disease, be only skirmishing before
a general engagement, in which all the =
maladies of earth shall be routed. Surely (
allopathy and homoeopathy and hydropathy \
and eclecticism need re-enforcement from
somewhere. Why not from the faith and
praver of the consecrated? The mightiest
school of medicine may yet bs the school of t
Christ. I do not know but that diseases now
bv all schools pronounced incurable ?
may give way untler Gospel bombard- 1
ment. I do not know but that the day c
may come when faith and prayer shall rais9 a
the dead. Strauss and Wools ton and Spin- (
oza and Hume and Schleiermacher rejected
the miracles of the far past. I do not pro- s
pose to be like them ana reject the miracles I
of the far future. This I know?the Christ g
of Ascension Day is mightier than any nat- *
ural laws, for on the day of which I spialc
He trampled down the strongest of them all.
Law is mighty, but He who made it is g
mightier. Drive out fatalism from your j
theologv, and give grace the throne.
Standing to-day on the Ascension peak of a
Mount Olivet I am also gladdened at the t:
closing gesture, tho last gesture Christ ever |j
made. "He lifted up His hands and blesssed i
them." says the inspired account of our '
Lord s departure. I am so glad He lifted 0
up His hands. Gestures are often more sig- ii
nificant than words, attitudes than argu- (|
ments. Christ had made a gesture of con- ]
tempt when with His finger He wrote on the
ground; gesture of repulsion wheu He said: b
"U?t thee behind me, satan;" gesture of condemnation
when He said: "Woe unto you, i.
Pharisees and hypocrites. But His "last
gesture. His Olivetic gesture, is a gesture of 0
benediction. He lifted up His hands and c
Blessed them. Hts arms are extends 1, and j
the palms of His hands turn id downward, ,
and so He dropped benediction upj:i Olivet, f
benediction upon Palestine, benediction upon i(
all the earth. Ii
Tlip oriifil wiirli? fcnnk Him in nf flip start
on a cradle of straw, and at last thrust '
Him out with the point of the spear; hut 51
benediction! Ascending until, beneath. He ii
saw on ono side t!io Betb\-hem where they u
put Him among the cattle, aud Calvary on
the other side, where they put Him among
the thieves. As far as the excited and in- <1
tensified vision of the group 011 Olivet could \\
seo Him, and after Hp was so far up they
could no longer hear His words, they saw '
the gesture of the outspread hands, thi benediction.
And that is His attitude to-day, f(
Hi* benediction upon the world's climates,
an-1 they are changing, and will keep on
changing until the atmosphere shall be a a
commingling of October an I June. Bene- I
diction upon the deserts till they whiten wich
lily, and blush with rose, and yello.v with .1
cowslip, and emerald with grass. Bene lie- '
tion upon governments till they beeoaie
*5
more just and humane. Benediction upm
nations till they kneel in prayer. Bene tic- "
tion upon the whole earth until evi*r>* mount- sf
aiu is an Olive of consecration, and every 0
lake a Galilee on whose mosaic of crystal,
and opal, aud sapphire divine splendors shall
walk. c<
Ob, take the benediction of His pardon, sin- o
ners young aud sinners old, sinners moderate
and sinners abandoned. Take the benediction
of His comfort, all ye broken hearted under
bereavement and privation and inyria 1 woes. n
Take His beuediction, all ye sick beds,
whether under acute spasm3 of D&in or is I
ong protracted invalidism. For orphanage,
,nd childlessness, and widowhood a benedicion.
For cradles and trundle beds and rockrig
chairs of octogenarians, a benediction,
i'or life and for death, for time and for eterlity,
for earth and for heaven, a beaedioion.
Sublimest gesture ever made, the last
;estureof our ascending Lord. "And H?
ifted up His hands and blessed them."
Is our attitude the same? Is it the clenched
1st or the open palm? Is it wrath or is it
indness? Is it diabolism or Christism? God
;ive us the grace of the op3n palm, open upward
to get the benediction, open downward
o pronounce a benediction. A lady was pa?sug
alon<* a streat and suddenly ran against
, ragged boy, and she said; "I beg your parIon,
my boy, I did not mean to run against
rou; I am very sorry." And the bov took off
he piece of a cap he had upon his nead and
aid: "You have my parding, ladv, and you
oay run agin me and knock me clear down;
won't care." And turning to a comrade he
aid: "That nearly took ma off my feet. No>ody
ever asked myparding before." Kindiess!
Kindness! Fill the warld with it.
?here has always been too much of disregard
>f others. Illustrated in 1639, in England,
rhen 95,000 acres of marshes were drained
or health and for crop raising, and the
portsmen destroyed the drainage works ber
use they wanted to keep the marshes for
tunting ground, where they could shot*
vild ducks.
The same selfishness in all ages. Oh, for
rindness that would make our life a sym)hony
suggestive of one of the ancient banluets
where everything was set to music;
he plats3 brought in and removed to the
ound of music, the motions of the carvers
ceeping time with the music, the conversation
ifting and propping with th9 rising and
alHnop ftf fha mnai^ insfaa -1 rtf t.ha
Qiisicf of an earthly orchestra, it would
>e the music of a heavenly charm, our words
he music of kind thoughts, our steps tha
nusic of helpful deals, our smile the music
if encouraging looks, our youth and old aga
ihe first and last bars of music conducts! by
he pierced hand that was opened in love and
pread downward in bamdictioa on Olivatic
wights on Ascension Day.
By a new way none ever trod
... Const mounted to the throng of God.
CURIOUS FACTS.
The potato-bug has twenty-five paraites.
The gem. symbolic of the month of
Jay is the emerald.
The earth, according to geologists, is
00,000,000 years eld.
A lady in Clarke County, Ga., has
levef tasted water in her life.
The area of London is 120 square
ailcs. It has about 7500 miles of streets.
There is no Company J in the Army,
iecause the written J is too much like I.
Asparagus was originally a wild seaoast
plant, and is a native of Great
Britain.
The postage on a single rate letter to
he Cape of Good Hope, South Africa, is
ifteen cents.
A cubic foot of fresh water weighs
4.0 pounus; a cuoic iuut ui sea wuicx
4.25 pounds.
The English battleship Benbow and
he Italiau warship Italia are the largest
i'ar vessels afloat.
Presidio del Norte, a Mexican town of
ome 7000 inhabitants, is said to be withut
anjr resident physician.
Small diamonds fixed in the front and
ack sights of rifles are said to enable the
larksman to take good aim even in a bad
ight.
The loftiest inhabited spot on the
lobe is the Porthouse of Ancomara on
lie Andes in Peru, 1G, 000 feet above the
ca level.
Jerome "Wood, of Long Lake, N. Y.,
ound the name of Annie Hodgson, of
heffield, England, in an umbrella, wrote
3 her and later married her.
A blanket fish is one of the Florida
uriosities seen in the gulf between Key
Vest aud Tampa. It looks like an uninned
cowhide floating in the water.
"Greaser'-' in the United States is a
ame applied,in contempt to natives of
panish America, especially to natives of
Iexico, from their greasy appearance.
Ten years ago the plains near Deming,
Lrizona, were feeding antelope. One
reek recently 6000 head of cattle were
hipped from Doming to eastern cities by
ail.
A Mayor's Singular Election.
It so happened once upon a time that
, dispute arose among the burghers of
.limerick, Ireland, as to who should be
layor, writes Mary Banim in the Provdeuce
Journal. One party urged the
1'iima nf thnii- fnvnritp- nfchers fought
? 1 O
lard for their own selection; feuds ran
ligh and neither side was inclined to
;ive in; there was no Mayor, no appar:ut
possibility of cither side being content
vith whoever should be chosen from
mong the burghers.
There seemed no chance of any elecion
being made, until at last it was pro>osed
that some one indifferently alike
o all parties should be chosen. The
itizens determined to elect by chance,
nd agreed that upon the following day
he principal members of the corporation
hould assemble at the foot of Thomond
5ridge and take as their Mayor the
rst man who should cross into the town
rom Clare.
It was market morning when the burners
look their stand on the bridge and
hey were not many minutes there before
poor peasant from Cratloe Hill came
rudging along with a bundle of heather
rooms 011 his back?an old trade iu Ireind
is that of cutting heather of broom
n the mountains and moors, making it
ato brooms, the stems bound into banles,
the soft tufts of purple blossom and
ark green foliage bunching out into a
rush or ;'broom."
The old broom maker of Cratloe was
nown at "Shaun-na-Scoobe," or John
f the Brooms. Brooms and all, he was
nrried oil by the Aldermen to the City
fall, dressed in robes of office and in?
\r..^nr r\( r imnrirk. jSto chrou
UU 1LU, UO illdj Vi v* - - -
:1c has been kept as to how he bote
imsclf iu olliec, but niauy a time, long
go, has a Mimstcr nurse told me the
:orv of how,Shaun-na-Scoobe not return1
g with the price of the brooms, his
ii'c set out to look for her old man and
mud him at last in the City Hull,
rcsscd in a scarlet robe, all trimmed
itli fur, a gold collar around his neck
iul the wand of olliee in his hand.
"Shaun, do you know the woman bejrc
you?" she asked in Irish.
"Xo, woman, I do not know you," ho
nswcrcd; "how could I kuow you when
do not kuow myself?"
And the Vanitee (wife or woman of
ie house) went home, ami at the end of
10 year, it being market day again,
haun shouldered his bundle of brooms,
awked them around until they were all
>ld, then carried home the money to his
Id wife on C'ratloe hillside, and his year
f office as Mayor of Limerick town ,was
junted by the honest couple as only one
f the strange dreams of their life.
A single factory in Durham, N. C.,
lanufacturcd 832,000,000 cigarettes last
ear.
RELIGIOUSJEADINa
Be not anxious for the morrow! fl
lie who portions joy anil sorrow
Knoweth what for thee Is best;
And whate'er its skies may bring
Thee of joy or sorrowing,
Comes at his behest.
Anxious thought can never yield thee
Grace to bear nor faith to shield thee;
Should the morrow trials bring;
But, if thou in patience wait,
He will help thee in thy strait,
Give thee song to sing.
Flia is love that lasts foreve-,
Faithfulness that faileth never!
From thy mind forebodings cast;
And. to know what he will be, *
Should a morrow rise on thee,
Bead it from the past.
When at last thy home thou nearest,
And the gloom of death thou fearest;
May be then tomorrow's light,
Given thee for faithful tiust,
Shall upon thy memory burst,
Pluming thee for flight.
When hath ceased nil sin and sorrow,
"Where thy life hath no tomorrow,
Sun, nor threatening cloud nor moon;
To the love thy past that planned,
Mid the harps of heaven's band,
Thine .shall find a tune.
EVERY CHRISTIAN'S DUTY. * .
It is the office of every disciple to be a
witness for Christ, calling the world around
Jou wherever you touch it to come and see '*
im as illustrated in yourself?in your fidei....
i ?. 1_
ny to every iruaij in \uur pancucc uuuci ?uj b
ignominy and insult, in your sweet serenity g
of spirit in the midst of all anxiety and fear, I
in your very face which shines as with the I
morning star, shedding its lustre on it be
cause you look for the realms that art above.
You are to show forth Christ for thchumble
and the poor, for the needy and the suffer
in", for the sinful whom you will call back I
to liim, for the beloved disciples with whom :/m
you enter into sweet fellowship because of B
common affiliation with him. Von are to I
be living epistles, known and read of men,
and written on every page of your life in the
living letters of light from on high, as lefc*
ters from Christ.
That Is the duty, that is the responsibility,
that is the glorious office of every man or 9
woman and every youth who confesses him
self or herselt a disciple of the Master. What I
words have we which he said to his disciples,
"As the Father hath sent me into the world,
so send I you. Ah, my dear friends it is not /
the minister alone, it is not the officer of the I
church alone, it is every individual disciple
embraced withiu the church who is thus to I
set forth Christ and call the world to see him, . I
and who needs for the accomplishment of
that august and lovely office the indwelling g
.power of the Holy lihost.--[ur. n.o. dsoitb.
STRAIGHT PATHS. I
The best railroads are made at great expense
for right of way, tunneling, grading
and cutting, and the best material is used for
cross-ties, trestles, etc., and laid with heavy
steel rails. "When completed, large engines
pull heavily loaded trains over them al
great speed with safety. Cheap roads are
built with poor material, and go curving
around hills and other obstacles, up bill ana
down over shaky. bridges and dangerous -i
trestle work, and when it is done it is quite
dangerous to run trains at all fast, and good
engines can't go up the steep grades with
what ought to be an ordinary load.
So it is in religion. There is a cheap,
twisty kind that doesn't cut down the
mountain of unbelief, but curves around
every disagreeable duty, and is destined not
only to be a failure hire, but to wreck those
.who have it for ali eternity. It curves
around the hill of repentance, runs over the
valley of humiliation on a trestle work,
scarcely comes in sight of restitution; the
ties arc worldly interests, the rails selfrighteousness;
"the engine a phantom ot
Christ, run by good resolutions and selfrighteousness.
It stops at all the towns of worldly pleasure,
and never has time for works of charity,
except to be seen of men, and has Its head-,v
quarters in worldly conformity and sensual
pleasure. It is a cheap route, and popular
with poor deceived souls, some of whjo[
think they arc serving God, and will re4v~
the kingdom by and by.
CAJCJ.V FAKltAR ON* FOHKIGX MISSION'S. H
Canon Farrar has been delivering a course
of missionarv lectures 011 Saturday after*
noons. In the one delivered January 17, in
Westminister Abbey ho said: At the be
ginning of this century a certain notaoiuiy
of Massachusetts made the remark that "thi
religion of Christ is such that the more you
send it abroad the more vou have it at home."
There were those who repeated the old stale
objection that we weie preaching to Esquimaux
when there were idolators in England.
Were we to do nothing for Europe until
all was perfect in England, nothing in England
unt'l all was perlect in Westminster,
liotiiing for Westminster until all was perfect
in our own homes, nothing in our own
homes until nil was perfect in our own
hearts? In tlie wake of American missions
abroad c;:.me American ^mancipation of the
slaves at home. Who turned tne ice which
had formed over the hearts of Churchmen
in the hist century into a flame? Why, John
Wesley and George Whitlicld.
Both were fervent in the cause of foreign
missions, and both went out as missionaries.
Did that spirit spring from a fantastic enthusiasm
for the heathen abroad, and siily
indifference to the beathen at home? The
call to go to the heatheu was greater. The
heath?n had not heard, as men at home had
heard, if they would, of the Gospel of
Christ. lie concluded by saying, with one
of those old Celtic missionaries, St. Asaph,
I iu.i v? I Kinder fhp nrotrress of
LIJOL UL- nuw un*v?wa t 0
God's Word envied the happlnes of man- H
kind. 9
JOUnXKY OF LIFE. fl
No one, remarks the Independent, passes
through the journey of this life, though lfc
be but of modentu length, without losing
Kindred and friends by death, whom he ten- H
derly loved when living, and contiuues to
love long after they are gone. If one H
to an advanced age, he usually has a^^^H
greater number of such friends in the ne^^lB
world than he bus in this. Death swee^H^H
them away, aud -ometimes he is left almoenl^|
alone iu respect to the cherished companion-' H
ships of his earthly life. To these loved ones M
deail lie can render no service, and, so far as Bfl
we know, from lin-in receive none. He may
think of tlictn, bill he can do nothing for
them. Tliey arc entirely beyond the reach H|
of his action. He ran speak no kind word
to them, aud give them no good advice. He HQ
can make no sacrifices to promote t heir joys.
The lesson to l?e learned from this fact is Hj
that we should act toward* our kindred and H|
friends while they are living, as we, if sur- IB
fill tc/l h-wl U'llAn
I VHIg IIU'III, ?III K nil 1. v. 4t..v? ...... .. MV?
tliey are sleeping in Die grave. I.et the busband
ami the wi.*'e so treat cadi other, while
thev iioM this rolalion, that the death of EH
neither will give the other any occasion for |H
regret on account of misconduct. Let par
cuts and children, brothers and sisters,
friends intimately associated, and, indceed, HB
all men. observe the same rule, and this certainly
would be a much happier world.' The [J
rule would lessen the number of family BM
juarivl>, and make life more serene and IB
more like heaven. Fewer hard speeches
would pass between men.
(ientleness and kindness would be the law H
m human ae ion. We once heard a man who
had just lo<t a nm?t excellent wife, say, '*1 |H
aru now >inierely sorrv for every unkind
wi rd I ever spoke to that woman. I wish I Hfl
could tell her >o, and in -ome way receive
from her the expression of her forgive" '??
i u-onld L'ive twentv thousand dollars H
it' I ''otilil thereby Mot out :<11 swh words."
Wo have no doubt tliat just tltis sort of fee 1in
has |itfni*lr:iti'il many a bosom. The way AH
to i voiil it is t'? .??> net towards others that
iIkti-w il! bi* no oroasioii for it when tlicy Hfl
an1 ih:i'l am! iroM'.
Thf. irony of fate is seen iu tlio sad
fate of Captain Couch. the Oklahoma
boomer. After devoting liis time and
energies for several years to organizing ^Bj
raids into that forbidden region, and
thus doing much to force its opening'A^B
settlement, he was so beaten in tbl^^B
race for land -when the day of jubilee
came that he was compelled t? jump jH
another man's claim, and was shot in
ttre leg and died a few day* afUrward. VB
A woman's strange gait may not afc,^h
ways be caused by her gaiter.