Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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HHH9H^BBBffiB^g|BHKM^^thee, HHB|^9ffi^HN29flHRSBHff? Ob, say, BMBH^h^SKMBBmh^^^^ii&j " ^ Hng^MuMffiB^^r ?.Vew X'or/c Tribune. S hHB^???? BBHBmBBia of Dunstable Farms, It SHSp^^^ ? wafr BY DORA REED COODALE. 01 Ilaviag 110 special interests of my own, P and being of a somewhat observant habit y of mind, I was last summer a sympathetic^ spectator of the little domestic exapr ence which I have called here the of Dunstable Farms. I may J^VC-t i.v l r v. 11 * I/"' in it K/>? T rw n r? hnmbln v.npfiffinQjr mV r ?rr rjF- thc min<>r The heroine?but stm? ^ Nq I characters should ap^esscd ^ a minor Patty it must be egg th fi witU character. Lnte^nd h'cr hair roHeJ ?uT0n ^fcr a round white cap?not Bm?? * yJni,but wholesome and pleasant J*re on, and as satisfying for a long | . ??iSey as a lot of brown bread. Dunstable Farms; you may have heard / of the place, where the family has ^ flourished and spread like a banyan grove Z1 since William Duustable planted himself if*}/ here in, I don't know what, year of grace. All the land hereabout was bought of thc Indian tribes,thc old deeds signed with their "marks" being still in the family archives, so tbat it is the Dunstable boast tbat their acres have never been owned by any white man bearing another name. Hither, to "recruit," on a notable morning in May, when the roads had re covered from the prolonged state of prostration which afflicts them in early spring, came I?a spinster, reader, but not too old a one to find young people congenial. Patty met me at the station. Patty drove me home and unharnessed the horse, and afterward set the table and brought out the sweetmeats for supper. Then she superintended the carrying of my trunks up a flight of back stairs which seemed designed for the shaft of an elevator. Pattv was the active, the serviceable, the ! delightful; there were five iu the family now, she said?her father, her; 1 mother, herself, Norah the cool:, and Stephen the hired man. I was to be the only boarder. This Stephen I immediately seized 1 upon as the villain of my piece, chiefly because of his rough, shaggy head and ' his solemn, inscrutable visage, which >3oked as if he were revolving the dark- ' est designs,although I could hear of none worse than a great thirst for learning. It was a democratic household, and Stephen had his seat at the lower end of the table. He and Mr. Dunstable often paused to discuss the care of the live itock and methods of tilling. But I soon learned that there was another daughter, Eunice, the sixteen-yearAn/1 fUn Ano of fKo fomilr UiU} auva tug tiviti uut \ji bub iuuihj . There was always one head-piece among tho Dunstable kin, said Patty, ingenu- j ously, and she further informed me that tt was odd that Eunice should have come ' into this family inheritance, because their own father was not the bright one of his generation; but Eunice took after her Uncle Erastus, she s'posed, who studied ] at Middlefield College and went into the ministry. It was an understood thing that the most intelligent one, boy or girl, should have good advantages, and when Eunice carried off the prize at a spelling-match, wane 3iiii n suiun crca'ure m piuuiurcs, i md in the district school outstripped all j the cousins growing up at Dunstr.ble' Farms, a family conclave was held. One J uncle contributed a heifer, another a J sheep,?they were land-poor, these Dun-1 stables, aud saw very few present dollars j In the course of a year,?aud the girl ! was sent fifty miles away to the Young ! Ladies' Seminary. This was two years ! ago, and next year she would graduate. I must own that my feelings received & shock on first seeing this bright one, this Eunice, some three weeks later, I when Stephen lifted her and her trunks j 11 Uli-L VilC aui|nv 1U1 LU-1IU^U| ?T uuw ? \sk the original material might be, the1 veneer of boarding-school life was dis-, played to perfection. She wore a white ; hat with some "style" about it, indeed, ; but a very objectionable style, as it; Beemed to me, and a pair of kid gloves at least two sizes too small. She could not have handled a fork in those gloves, nor have held up her skirt, much less her umbrella. Now Patty's best gloves were of gray cotton, with lace-work wrists, j and sometimes, I ought to add, she wore them when she saddled the horse. It was hard to understand how any mt*l Annlrl 1 to of rvnwed lrnf?n nml en nr?n_ i WV ... WW ?v,~ . tradictory as Miss Eunice. She did not Beem to despise the farm, but professed ! aa ignorance of things pertaining to it which, it seemed to me, could not he genuine. Sh? would dislike Stephen, I supposed, as a common farm laborer, and he would lind her tine-lady airs ridiculous. Alas, that even at thirty our wis loin Is ballled by these young folks at every : turn! Miss Eunicc treated Stephen with good-natured indifference, while he, like ! the the perverse fellow he was, chose to treat her from the first as a kind of divinity. She was given to studying geometry, and biology, too; she spent whole forenoons over the microscone. dissecting not only plants but fishes and mice, al- J though Patty on no accouDt -would have ! permitted her-to joint up the chickens for dinner. She wa3 not an idle girl, but full of activities rather, and yet she did noiiiing at all to help in the house, except to trim over all Patty's hats and remodel most of her dresses. Stephen spent his evenings, alone and remorse, in the kitchen, for Norah usually sat in the porch; he was working at his books, they said, though how he could study after from tan to fourteen tours in the field was a mystery to me. One evening, when the lamps had been lighted, Norah came in, a sheet of brown paper, covered with diagrams, in her hand, to say that Scephea was "wantin' to know if Misg Eunice wouldn't just cast an eye over that, for be couldn't mek Jtt the throuble at all, at all." c Fatty looked up, apprehensively, I v . . ; V - - HnHSraHv d SEmBfijBgsfflHKEH^^ncc QBHHBHKSPRrushca out ti HHSK little later?to get h ^nilk?they were sitting at E BB^^Wrubbcd table, with a batteled tl between them, bDth beads lit^ both faces shining with eagerness^Jr id both toncrues raurmurin? somethjj^? vrrical jout the maximum of isopenmojr olv^ons. That was the beginning a^[. ^un^e 3 terest in Stephen. The gh!y of intellectual fc/^ that a 1 hc1r 3od will was gained whea *hc {? 1 imc one who hadXaloa.c a,ncl u?aldcc1' most overtakfir; ?cr f,n her, favor.ltu udv Evers n,2ht aftcrward sbc m" sted on 1 >ing him, aud did it with ilv a m her a'r tbe beautiful it^ness. ^Certainly a teacher like Eunice must nave put a new meaning into the dogeared volumes. She found a place for -?_t-cmV.r." nml rvfTinr uu?? au vui uuv? frolics, plannings things so gracefully that her father never seemed to miss the time of his foreman, and leading Stephen to talk of himself with the kindest maternal sympathy; he was only two years older thau she! Nor was this all. Early and late, in season and out of season, Eunice urged oa us all that the boy should have better opportunities. He was tea times as clever as she, ehe declared, though nobody believed it; it was a pity and a shamo that he did not go to school, and something ought to bo done about it. Mr. Dunstable told her that Stephen's father had been the skipper of a sailing vessel, and was lost, I believe, on the high seas somewhere between here and China. "Haven't you ever seen those outlandish knives of Stephen's, with the queer fig^ers on 'em? That's about all he left him, I reckon," said good Mr. Dunstable. The nest time Stephen passed, he was called up to display these wonderful weapons, which he brought forth directly from an inside pocket, thereby revising n?y theory as to his dangerous character, which was beginning to waver. We were sitting at the time out under the copper-leaved birchc3 with a young heiress, who was boarding down iu the village. She was a collector of curios, and took a great fancy to these knives, which were beautiful little toys of Indian or Chinese workmanship. The delicately-curved two-edged blades wero thrust into short leather sheaths, and the round handles of ivory carved over with dragons. Afterward, and certainly not without a mental reservation for the owner's own benefit, she offered Stephen twentyfive dollars apiece for the two; but Stephen", to our surprise, refused to sell them, saying that his father had given them to him and he would never part with them. Eunice was at no pains to i conceal her vexation. Meanwhile I began to suspect that all ! was not right with Mr. Dunstable's own i financial affairs. He had always been the unthrifty one of his family, with an un- i fortunate tendency toward "spekilation." He was an old man now, and somewhat < broken down, so that the management of the place was left more and more in the hands of Patty and Stephen. Patty, in- ! deed, was quite competent to assume the , whole charge; but her father looked so anxious and worried that I guessed, as I 1 fancy she did, that some bad news was 1 coming. I At last the blow fell. Of the purse ] which the brothers had made up to pay for Eunice's schooling, one hundred dol- i Iars had been reserved to cover the tui- j tion fees in the coming September. This Mr. Dunstable had risked?invested, or ( what you will, and lost it. I Now to go in debt is to go branded, in I the eye of a Dunstable. One resource, , however, remaiued for Eunice. Mr. Dunstable had a colt, raised on the farm, and dear as the apple of his eye because of a foci belief which he entertained that it was destined one day to develop "speed." It was in truth a fine colt,.though a little long in the legs and lean in the neck, and given to sundry very lively trickc | and diversions. This colt Mr. Dunstable determined to " 4.1 ? 1 1 sen. lie was young, recently uroiu:u, and useless for heavy farm labor. Having raised by the sale of this animal the ! formidable sum, Eunice's other expense? would doubtless be gradually forthcom- ' ing. When Eunice protested, her father sternly silenced her, declaring that the money lie had lost was given in trust for her schooling. Presently Mr. Chichester, a farmer 1 from under the mountain who had long had a covetous eye upon the colt, came 1 up to Dunstable Farms one bright afternoon. He looked the animal over, got Stephen to show off his paces?how pretty and docile he was that day to be sure!?examined nis teetn ana nis noois, and partly concluded a bargain. He was to take him homo for a week, at the end of which time, if the animal proved sound aud steady, he would pay down the *100. Honest Mr. Dunstable made no objection to such an arrangement, lie was as blind where the faults of his favorite were concerned as the most partial of parents. Exit Mr. Chichester?exit the colt, quite sedate, at the tail of his wagon. We all lived that week in a vague atmosphere of suspense. I could not but think it ill-judged when, at the expiration of the time, Mr. Dunstable announced his inteution of sending Stephen after the money, especially as I h;ard hini say, as the lad was preparing to set off: "Now, if he should think we was askiu' a leetle too much, if the colt's be'n up to his games ana tie wants ye should knock a bit off from the price, I wouldn't stick out for a few dollars?not for a few dollars, Stephen. "We could make it up somehow?so see ye don't bring back the creatur' " This was putting too much responsibility on such a young lad. I, for one, was greatly relieved whea Stephen returned at dusk, and much to his own satisfaction and the general rejoicing unrolled from his wallet and placed in his employer's hands one hundred dollars. Mr. Chichester, he said, was satisfied with his bargain; he thought the colt a fine fellow, although fractious at times. Matters now seemed to settle back into the old grooves, and Eunice began to make preparations for school. But several days later she came in from a round of calb looking flushed and disturbed, and asked if her father could lend a horse the next day. After much wriaUing of eyebrows and counting of riftffttirimm- - - , concluded the l^^^^recouM be spared, Eumc< BP^^ne to accompany hej^T oa so ? !rt of a drive, the purpose^of which she id not announce. I najjp-ppte'J, because was quite willing to^"tudy the girl. Our drive tool^U3 thr<>ugh a part of ic region unk^Rwn to mo hitherto, and rou<*ht us to the gate of a farm->use of^ T"rosPcrou9 appearance when unicr^r (3rew' up and asked me to hold 1C j^reins while she went in. few moments later she came down the gravel walk in a somewhat agitated way and with eyes sparkling. As soon as v>c were fairly started she turned to me, saying abruptly, "Mr. Chichester gave only fifty dollars for that colt!" "Only fifty dollars?" I echoed, astonished. "Yes. And Stephen sold hk knives to make it up to a hundred." "What? Oh, I see! But how did you know?" tlWKr T nn "\Ticq Will ail nrh. ""Jl " ?""* ? oby yesterday, she said something about her good fortune in securing those Chinese daggers. A sort of suspicion passed over me. I asked her when Stephen had sold them, and she said it was Tuesday, she believed. He came in just at dark, looking 'pale and odd,'and told her he had reconsidered. She gave him the money." "Yes, but about the colt? Did she know about that?" "Of course not. I came here to see Mr. Chichester. I looked him straight in the eye and asked what he paid for it. He said 'Fifty dollars' before he thought, and then clapped his hand upon his mouth. 'Hold on!' he said; 'I promised the young fellow not to mention the price.' It is not so strange that Stephen hnrl f-n mmA dnwn Mr. Chichester saV3 the colt can jump any fcncc on the place, and made kindling wood of his best phaeton the first time he drove him. Ho will havo to be put in the hands of a regular trainer." "But I thiuk it was very unwarrantable in Stephen," I protested. "It was certaiulv unwarrantable in him to put me under such obligations, I think," said Eunice. The tears which ran down her pretty cheeks were tears of mortified pride. I was not surprised that the girl should tako it in this way, knowing that it often requires a more generous nature to accept a favor than to render one. Eunice had played the part of the fair benefactress so well that her self-love was naturally wounded! Therefore. I was scarcely less astonished than was Stephen when, on reaching home, she walked straight up to him in the yard, with both hands held out, and said, simply, "0 Stephen, I know all about it." The school-books rested that night while the boy and girl sat on the doorstep outside, and snatches of their conversation came in through my open window. "But I wanted to do it," I heard Stephen say in his serious way. "Why, Miss Eunice, what did I care about them?" Afterward came Eunice's fresh, unmistakable voice, "Ye3, Stephen, I will accept it?that is, for the present." This seemed to be satisfactory, and concluded the interview. List week I received the following characteristic letter from Patty: "Dunstable Farms. January 12th. "My Dear Miss Fulton: You asked me to write to you after the holidays were over, tt'e all spent Christmas Day at the homestead and had a real family party. Eunice was at home, of course, and what do you think? She had actually been teaching in the aight schools and brought back that fifty dollars that Stephen lent her. Stephen is Bjoing to take it and go in the high school this term. Eunice likes teaching so much, and says she intends to devote her life to it?but she may change her mind. I think it wonderful, though, how much good she did Stephen. I never saw any ono improve as lie has. "By the way, we hear now that the coit is goin^to be a great troter. [Patty's orthograpny was not always faultless.] However, perhaps it is just as well that we've got hitn off from our minds. And you know ho did ict awfully. "Father and mother sand their respects. We hope you will come here next summer. "Affectionately yours, "Patty Dunstable." So ends the drama. Patty is not yet promoted from the farm-house kitchen. The heroine was not miraculously cured of her follies; and the villain turned out to be the hero.?Youth's Companion. Hanting Bee Trees. The outfit of the hunter for wild bees consists of a box of matches, some old honey-comb, and a small box with a unvw cover ana a nine como uonuy m it. Proceeding on a warn, still, fair day to within a quarter of a mile from the woods he proposes to test, in the open field he builds a tire and heats two flat stones. Placing oue of the heated stones on a convenient stump or roclc, ho puts on that a piece of old comb and covers it with the other hot stone, and then draws the lid of the box part way out, first placing it near the burning comb, the scent of which attracts the bees, and they alight on the comb honey. Gorging themselves, they disappear. The first ones to leave rise high in the air, but as they come thicker and faster, they make a "bee-line" from the box to their tree. The hunter notes this line by some large tree in the woods. lie then closcs the lid, shutting in the bees, and pro/.A/wIe fn o crinlr n lin? nt n riirhfc __0 angle to the lirst line. Opening the bo.v, the imprisoned bees depart directly to their trees. Having the "cross line," ho follows it up to the point where it intersects the first line and there he finds tho "bee-tree." rcculinrities Among Geese. There arc some peculiarities among geese which seem remarkable. The gander cherishes a regard for the young brood and will defend them from danger. He will sometimes fly and light upon tho back of a huge Newfoundland or Mastill, should such an intruder cross the premises. After once mating they remain so and move about in separate groups as distinct families. A pair of old geese will adopt and rear goslings raised under hens, even after they arc several months old. They set a very good example in this respect for their owners and their brethren. In fact, there arc many peculiarities of geeso which some people would do well to imitate. It i9 certain there would not be so much business for lawyers and courts if they should do this. In leaving the nest they always cover the eggs with down to protect them from cooling. So great is the care of the gander for his offspring that he will often allow a son to grow to maturity in the family without molestation, and then, if the young bird begins "to feel his oata" and aome day whips the uold man," he will gracefully submit.?Farmt FUld and Stockman, , 7 HEV. DPi. TALMAGE. THE BROOKLYN' DIVINE'S SUNDAY SERMON. Snbjcct: "The Curse of Intemperance." Text: "It is my son's coat; an evi't least hath devoured him.''?Gen. xxxvii. Joseph's brethren dipped their brother's coat in goat's blood, and then brought the dabbled garment to their father, cheating bun with the idea that a ferocious animal had slain him, and thus hiding their infamous behavior. But there is uo deception about that which we hold up to your observation to-day. A monster such as never ranged African thicket or Hindostan juDgle hath tracked this land, and with bloody maw hath strewn the continent mnnorin/i MrMcoK nf whole centra tions, and there are tens of thousands of fathers and mothers who could hold up the J garment of their slain boy, truthfully ex { claiming, "It is my son's coat; an evil boast hath devoured him." There has in all ages and climes been a tendency to the improper uso of stimulants. Noah, as if disgusted with the prevalence of water in his time, took to strong drink. By this vice Alexander the Conqueror was conquered. The Romans at their feasts fell off their seats with intoxica- I tion. Four hundred millions of our race are | opium eaters. India, Turkey and China have groaned with the desolation, and by it have been quenched such lights as Halley and DeQuincev. One hundred millions are the victims of the betel nut, which has specially blasted the East Indies. Three hundred millions cbew hashish, and Persia, Brazil J and Africa suffer the delirium. Tho Tartars employ murowa, the Mexicans the agave, the people of Guarapo an intoxicating quality taken from sugar cane, while a great multitude that no man can number are the disciples of alcohol. To it they bow. Under it they an, trampled. In its trenches they fall. On its ghastly holocaust they burn. Could the muster roll of this great army be called, and they could come up from the dead, what eye could endure tne reeking, festering putrefaction and beastliness? What heart could endure the groan of agony? Drunkenness. Does it not jingle the burglar's key? Does it not whet the assassin's knife? Does it not cock the highwayman's pistol? Does it not wave the incendiary's torch? Has it not sent the physician reeling into tho sick room, and the minister with His tongue thick into the pulpit? Did not an exquisite poet from the very top of his fame fall a gibbering sot into the cutter on his way to be married to one of the fairest daughters of Now England, and at the very hour the bride n as decking herself for the altar, and did he not die of delirium tremens almost unattended in a hospital? Tamerlane asked for 160,000 skulls witn which to build a pvramid to his own honor. He got the skulls and built the pyramid. But if the bones of all Ihose who have fallen as a prey to dissipation could be piled up it would make a vaster pyramid. Who will gird himself for the journey and try with mo to scale this mountain of the dead, going Hp miles high on human carcasses to And still other peaks far above, mountain above mountain white with the bleached bones of druukards? The S&bbath has been sacrificed to the rum traffic. To many of our people tha best iront la the worst. Bakers must I keep their shops closed on the Sabbath. It is dangerous to have loaves of bread going out cn Sunday. Tho shoo store is closed; severe penalty will attack the man who sells boots on the Sabbath. But down with tho window shutters of the grog shops! Our laws shall confer particular honor upon the rum traffickers. All other trades must stand asi le for these. Let our citizens who liavo disgraced themselves by trading in clothing and hosiery and hardware and lumber and coal take off their hats to the rumseller, elected to particular honor. It is unsafe for any other class of men to be allowed license for Sunday work. But swing out your signs, oh ye traffickers in the pea? of families and in tho souls of immortal meni Let the corks fly, and the beer foam, and the rum go tearing down tho half consumed throat of the inebriate. God does not see. Does He? Judgment will never come Will it? I do not know but that God is determined to let drunkenness triumph, and tho husbands and sons of thousands of our best families be destroyed by this vice, in order that our people, amazed and indignant, may ris* up and demand the extermination of this municipal crime. There is a way of driving down the hoops of a barrel so tight that tboy break. We have in this country at various times tried to regulate this evil by a tax ou I whisky. You might as well try to regulate the Asiatic cnoiera or ine smaiipox uy waution. The men who distil liquors are for thi most part unscrupulous, and the higher the tax the more inducement to illicit distillation. Oh! tLa folly of trying to restrain an evil by Government tariff. If every gallon of whisky made, if every flask of wine produced, should be taxed a thousand dollars, it ftould not be enough to pay for tho tears it has wrung from the eyes of widows and orphans, nor for the blood it has dashed on the Christian Church, nor for the catastrophe of the millions it has destroyed forever. I sketch two houses in this street. Tha first is bright as home can be. The father comes at nightfall, and the children run out to meet him. Luxuriant evening meal. Gratulation and sympathy and laughter. Music in the parlor. Fine pictures on the wall. Costly "books on the stand. A well clad household. Plenty of everything to mak? home liapny. House the second. Piano gold yesterday by the sheriff. Wife's furs at pawnbroker's shop. Clock gone. Daughter's jewelry sold to get flour. Carpets gone off the floor. Daughters in faded and patched dresses. Wife sewing for the stores. Little child with an ugly wound on her face, struck in an angry blow. Deep shadow of wretchedness falling in every room. Door bell rings. Little children hide. Daughters turn pale. Wife holds her breath. Blundering step in the hall. Door opens. Fiend, brandishing his fist, cries, "Out! out! What are you doing here?'' Did I call this house the second? Kb; it is the same house. Hum transformed it. Rum smbruted the man. Rum sold the shawl. Rum tore up the carpets. Rum shook his (Lt. Rum desolated the haarth. Rum changed that paradise iuto a hell. I sketch two men that you know very well. Tho first graduated from one of our literary institutions. His father, mother, brothers and sistors were present to see him graduate. They heard the applauding thunders that greeted his speech. They saw the bouquets IUX5LM IU 1113 IVCK. XU?J Oi* .? wuw v*vw.?v fcrreil and tho diploma given. He never looked so well. Everybody said: "What a noble brow! What a fine eye! What graceful manners! What brilliaut prospects!'' All the world opeus before him and cries, "Hurrah ! hurrah !*' Man the second lies in tho station-house. Tho doctor has just been sent for to bind up the gashes received in a fight liis hair is matted, and makes him look like a wild boast. His lip is bloody and cut. Who is this batUsro<l and bruised wretch that was picked ap by the police and carried in drunk and foul and bleeding? Did I call him man tho second? Ho is man tho first! Rum transformed him. Ram destroyed his prospects. Rum disappointed parental expectation. Rum withered those garlands of commencement day. Rum cut his lip. Rum dashed out his manhood. Rum?accursed ruin! This foul thing gives ono swing to its scythe and our t>est merchants fall. Their stores aro sold and they sink into dishonored graves. Again it swings its scythe, and some of our best physicians fall into suffering that their wisest prescriptions cannot cnr6? Again it swings its scythe, and ministers of the Gospel fall from tho heights of Zion, with long-resoun ling crash of ruin and shame. Some of your own households have already oeen soaseu. Perhaps you can hanlly admit it, but svhere was your son last uight? Where was ho Friday night? Where was he Thursday night? Wednesday night? Tuesday night? Monday night? Nay, have not some of you in your own bodies felt the power of this habit? You think that you could stop? Are you sure you could? Go on a little further, and I am sure you cannot. I think if some of yon should try to break away you would find a chain on the right wrist and one on the left; one on the right foot and another on the left. This serpent does not begin to hurt until it has wound round and round. Then it begins to tighten and strangle and crush until the bones crack, and the blood trickles, and their eyes start from their sockets, and the mangled wretch cries: "O God I O God I help! hdpl" But it is too late, and not even the fires of woe can [ melt the chain when once it ia folly fastened. 1 havo shown you tho evil b;ast. The quo* tion is, Who will hunt him down and how shall we shoot him? I answer first, by getting our children right oa this subject. Let them grow up with an utter aversion to strong drink. Take care how you administer it, even as medicine. If you find that they have a natural love for it, as some have, put in a glass of it soma Jiurrid stuff, and mako it utterly nauseous. Teach theal as faithfully as you do the Bible that rum is a riend. Take tnem to tue almshouse and show them tho wreck and ruin it works. Walk with them into the homes that have been scourged by it. If a drunkard had fallen into a ditch take them right up where they can see his faco, bruised, savage aud swollen, and say: "Look, my son. RumdidthatP' Looking out of your window at some one who, intoxicated to malnesa, goes through the street brandishing his fist, blaspheming Go J, a howling, defying, shouting, re sling, rav ing and foaming maniac, say to your son: "Look, that man wa3 onca a child like you." As you go by the grog shop let them know that that is the placa where men are slain, and their wives made paupers, ani tiieir children slaves. Hold out to your children all warnings, all rewards, all counsels, le3t in after days they break your heart and curse your zray hairs. A man laughed at my father for his scrupulous temparanca principles, ml said: "I am more liberal than you. I always give my children the sugar in the glass after we have been taking a drink." Three of the sons have die! drunkards and the fourth is imbecile through intemparate habits. Again, we will battle this evil by voting only for sober men. How many men are there who can rise above the feelings of parnsansntp and demand that our officials shall be sober men? I maintain that the question of sobriety is higher than the question of availability, and that however eminent a man's services may be, if he have habits of intoxication he is unfit for any office in the gift of a Christian people. Our laws will be no better than the men who make them. Spend a few days at Harrisburg or Albany or Washington and you will And out why upon these subjects it is imDossible to zet risrhtaous enactments. Again, we wilfwar lipan this evil by organized societies. The friends of the ram traffic have bandei together; annually issue their circulars; raise fabulous sums of money to advance their interests, and by grips, pass words, signs and stratagems set at defiance public morals. Let us confront thom with organizations just ns secret, and, if need be, with grips and pas3 words and signs maintain our position. There is no need that our philanthropic societies tell all their plans. I am in favor of all lawful strategy in thecarryinz on of this conflict. I wish to Gol we could lay under the wine casks a train which, onca ignited, would shake the earth with the explosion of this monstrous iniquity! Again, we will try the power of the pledge. There are thousands of men who uave been saved by putting their name3 to such a document. I know it is laughed at, but there are some men who, having onco Eromised a thing, do it. "Some have roken the pledge." Yes; they were liars. But all men are not liars. I do not say that it is the duty of all persons to make such signature, but I do say that it would be tho ?' ? Q ""? ??*? T^a fflApiAiu trnrlr I BU1VUMUU Ul llltur ui jruu. i uu ft*"' .. | of Theobald Mathew can never be estimated. At his hand foor millions of people took the pledge, and multitudes in Ireland, England, Scotland and America have kept it till this day. The pledge signed to thousands has been the proclamation of emancipation. Again, we expect great things from inebriate asylums. They have already done a gloriots work. I think that we are coming at last to treat inebriation as it ought to be treated, namely, as an awful disease, self inflicted, .to be sure, but nevertheless a disease. Once fastened upon a man sermons won't cure him; temperance lectures will not eradicate it; religious tracts will not remove it; fchft Oosnp.1 of Christ, will not arrest it. Oner under the power of this awful thirst the mab is bound to go on; and if the foaming glass were on the other side of perdition he would wade through the fires of hell to gat it. A foung man in prison had such a strong thirst Cor intoxicating liquors that ho cut oft his hand at the wrist, called for a bowl of brandy in order to stop the bleeding, thrust his wrist into tho bowl, and then drank the contents. Stand not when the thirst i3 on him between a man and his cups. Clear tho track for him. Away with the children; he woulj tread their life out. Awjy with the wife; Q0 wouiu Qfi.su ner lo ueaui. nnajr ??4l/u wiq 1 ;ro3s; he would run it down. Away with the Bible; he would tear it up for the winds. | &.way with heaven; he considers it worthless as a straw. "Give ma the drink! Give it to me! Though the hands of blood pais up the bowl and the soul trombles over the pit ?the drink! give it to rae! Though it ba pale with tears; though the froth of everlasting anguish float on the foam?give it to me! I drink to 1117 wife's woe, to my children's rags, to my eternal banishment from God and hope and heaven! Give it tome! the drink!" Again, we will contend against thesa evib by trying to persuade the respectable classes of society to the banishmjnt of alcoholic beverages. Yyd who move in elegant and reflnel associations; you who drink the bast liquors; you who never drink until you loss your balance, let us look each other in thi * ?? Karti nn/4at* lilCv UIl LUIS SUUJUVJb* jl vu aaro uuuvt wvm ia your power the redemption of this lan<! from drunkenness. Empty your cellars and wine closets of the beverage nud then come ou and give us your hand, your vote,your pray era,your sympathies. Do that and I will prom ise three things: First, That you wiil find un spoakablo happiness in haviu* d>ne yout duty; secornl, you will probably save some body?perhaps your own child; third, you will not in your last hour rejrot that yoc made the sacrifice, if sacjiticeit be. As dong o" you make drinking reipectabh drinkin* custom* win prevail, an l the plowshare of death, drawn by terrible disasters, will ?0 oa, taming up this whole continent from enl to end with the long, deep, awful furrow of drunkards' graves. Oh! how this rum tieud would like to gc and hang up a skeleton ia your beautiful house, so that when you opened the front door to go in you would see it in the hall; and when you sat at your table you would see it hanging from the wall; and when yoc opened your bedroom you would find il stretched upon your piuow; auu, waiiuj ?? night, you would feel it* cold hand pissing over your face nntl pinching at your heart. There is no home so beautiful but it may be devastated by the awful curse. It throws its jargon into the sweetest harmony. "What was it that silenced Sheridan, the" Euglisb orator, and shattered the golden scepter with which he swayed parliaments ana courts? What foul sprite turned the sweet rhythinn of Robert Burns into a tuneless babble? What brought down the majestic form of one who awed the American Senate with bis eloSuence, and after a while carriod him home ead drunk? What was it that swamped the noblo spirit of one of the heroes of the last war, until, in a drunken fit, ho reeled from *.ho /lor?L- r?P rt sfp.amflp n.n.1 was drowned? There was one whose voice we all loved to hear. He was one of the most classic orators of the century. People wondered why a man of so pure a heart and so excellent a life should have such a sad countenaueo always. They knew not that his wife was a sot. I call upon those who are guilty of these indulgences to quit tho Dath of death. Oh. wtuu a enange ii> would mase in your noine: Do you see how everything there is being 'losolated? Would you not like to bring hick joy to your wife's heart, aud have your children co;ne out to meet you with as much confidence as once they showed? Would you not like to rekindle th ; home lights that long ago were extinguished? It is not too late to change. It may not entirely obliterate from four soul the momory of wasted years and a ruine J reputation, nor smooth out from your anxious brow the wrinkles which trouble has plowed. It may not call back unkind words uttered or rough deeds done; for perhaps in those awful moments you struck her! It may not take from your memery the bitter thoughts connected with some little grave. But it is not too late to save yourself, and secure for God and your family the remainder of your fast going life. But perhaps you have not utterly gone astray. I may address one who may not have quite made up his mind. Let your better nature speak out. You take one side or the other in the war against drunkenness. | Have you the courage to put vour foot aowurig&t, ana say to your companions ana friends, "I will never drink intoxicating liquor in all my life, nor will I countenance the habit in others I" Have nothing to do with strong drink, it has turned the earth into a place of skulls, and has stood opening the gate to a lost world to let ia its vitims, until now the door swings no more upon its hinges, but day and night stands wide open to let In the agonized procession of doomed men. Do I address one whose regular work in life is to administer to this appetite? For Qod's sake get oat of that business 1 If a woo /'iv^ *;.yl ^ - - -* >. * r.. -<v r'T- - -v.-:-- . : * ?' ;-- ;. 7-7- "'. V * .$&'.zt*%^ ' '" b3 pronounced upon the man who gives his neighbor drink, how many woes must ba banging over the man who does this every day and every hour of the day? Do not think that because human government may license you that therefore God licenses you. I am surprised to hear you men say that they respect the "original package" decision by which the Supreme Court of the United States allows rum to b9 taken into States like Kansas, which have decided against the sale of intoxicants. I have no respect for a wrong decision. I care not who mikes it. The three judges of the Supreme Court who gave minority report against that decision wereright and the chief justice was wronjj. The right of a State to defend itself against the rum traffic will yet be demonstrated, the supreme Anting iTfiflicfo n/lim* TTl rrVi nr* flion fhfl ujui u uw?>?luuouauuiuq. ui^uei vuuu vuu iudicial bonc'a at Washinsrtonis the throne of tho Lord God Almighty. No enactment, national, State or municipal, can give you the right to carry on a business whose one effect is destruction. God knows better than you do yourself the number of drinks you have poured out. You keep a lis*, but a more accurate list has been kept than yours. You may call it Burgundy, bourbon, cognae, Heidsieck, sour mash, or baar. God. calls it strong irink. Whether vciu sell it in low oyster jeiur or Dbuiu m taa poiis&al couacer ot a Qrst- *'.a33 hotel, the divine curss is upon fou. I tell you plainly that you will meet your customers one day when there will be qo counter between you. When your work is done on earth, ana you enter the reward of your business, all tha souls of tho mea whom you have destroyed will crowd around you and pour their bitterness into your cup. They will show you their wounds and say, "You made them," and point to their unquenchable thirst and say, "You kindled it," and rattle their chain and say, 'You forgel it." Then their united groans will smite your ear, and with the hands out of which you once picked the sixpences and the dimes, they will push you off the v?rge of great precipices, while rolling up from beneath and breaking among the cragB of death will thunder, "Woe to him that giv* eth his neighbor drink." CURIOUS FACTS. The white rose is the favorite flower in France. There are now 70,000 widowa in India ander nine years of age. A few days ago 8000 watermelons were destroyed in a Georgia railroad wreck. It is said that Asa Low, of Springvale, 'las the shortest name of any person in Maine. It is not an unusual sight to see seventy-five acres of a California wheat field covered with wild geese. A sign over the office counter in ho leading hotel of Leadville, Col., reads: ,4Dogs bearded at $40 a month." Constantinople, Turkey, is believed to liave founded the first hospital in the world, as we now understand a hospital. A census enumerator discovered a family of ten children in San Francisco, 3al., who were all clubfooted and knockinced. In the Sultan of Morocco's stables are ive horse3 for his own use and seven lundrcd for the use of his family and jervants. There are fourteen pages in the United States Senate. They serve ior iour yeare jach, being eligible only between the iges of twelve and sixteen. There are seventeen bathrooms in Mrs. Thomas A. Scctt's residence, on South ttittenhou3e Square, Philadelphia. The louse contains as many suits as an ordi[ lary hotel. The University of Berlin, with its 6000 students and scores of famous professors, has a capital of but $730,000. j Its largest endowment, that of the Countass Rose, is only $150,000. Nevertheless it is the seat' of the highest German learning, and claims to have the ablest corps of instructors of all the world's schools. At Mrs. Somebody's sumptuous dinner party in the suburbs of New York the - iroro lihorftfcfld Ubiicr bYCLIllI^ Ritual J uiiu^ Ifvftv ? , from their ca^es and flew about the dining-room during the feast, evidently embarrassed, if not scared. This 4'feature" comes from London, where Colonel North, the "nitrate king," had it first at his regal banquet at the Hotel Metropole. Intelligent Sparrows. In a certain country town the English sparrows took possession of the eaves and I the attic of the court house, built their j nests there and fought and propagated | with tireless and noisy energy. One day in the spring came a butcher bird and lighted on a tree near the court house. Before the arrival of the butcher bird, perhaps two hundred sparrows were hopping and flying about in peace, if not in quietnes3. In an instant they had all disappeared. Not one could be seen. You would not have known that there was a sparrow in town, had it not been for an occasional subdued chirp under the eaves of the court house. Now, probably none of these little scamps had ever seen a butcher bird before. But some instinct told them that he meant mischief, and, not standing upon the order of their going, they went at once. For two days the butcher bird made his home iu that free, killing several robins, but not a sparrow. They, line Bret Rabbit, lay low. On the third day a clerk in the courthouse shot the butcher bird. The sparrows must have been ; watching the proceedings, for their dead I enemy had hardly touched the ground J before every one of them were there, too, ) foraging with appetites sharpened with i a two days' fast. They paid no attention | to the man with the gun nor to the J butcher bird, but just went industriousJj i to work filling their little crops. Now, [ what other bird has so much discern- j tnent? IIow did they know their enemj j was dead? and, further, how did thej | know that the same weapon which had killed hitu wouldn't be used t:> killtheml | They did know both things iu someway, j If for nothing else but their smartness, the sparrows ought to be encouraged j htr ft smart nconle like ourselves.?New ! "" i A York Star. The Cats of Pribylov Islands. It should uot be omitted to state that there are uo reptiles of any sort, mosquitoes, or house riies on the Pribylov Islands, oil the cojxst of Alaska, although those objectionable creatures are found , pretty nearly everywhere else in the j world. There arc not even rats there, ; though mice have have been brought in ships and have propagated enormously. Cats, too, have been imported and have increased to a most astonishing extent. | Feeding upon sealflesh they have growc ! 1 - -i ~e v 1 much shorter anu micsur 01 tiiau | cuts in this part of the world; their tails have become abbreviated, and they have multiplied beyond all couuting. So serious has the night concert problem become on the Pribylov Islands that periodically the natives make raids upon the j cats, with the result of temporarily diminishing their numbers. It is said that a night upon St. George's or St. Paul's ii one incessant and inexpressible caterwaul.?Chicago Timet, 1 . ; ::-:3 RELIGIOUS READING. i CONTENT. I bave learned, in whatsoever state I am, i. herewith to be content.?Phil, iv., 11. Have I learned, in whatsoever State, to be content? Have I learned this blessed lesson, Bv my Master sent, An>l with joyous acquiescence Do I greet His will. Even wnen my own is thwarted, And my hands lie still? Surely it is best and sweetest Thus to have Him choose, Even though some work I've taken, Bv this choice I lose. Folded hands need not be idleFold them but in prayer, Other souls may toil far better For God's answer there. They that reap receive their wajes, : Those who work, their crown, Those who pray, throughout the ages Bring blest answers down; . In '"whatever state" abiding f Till the 3Iaster call They at eventide will find Him | Gloritied in all. ' ! What though I can do so little ! For my Lord nnd King, At His feet I sit and listen, At Ilis feet I sing. And whatever my condition, All iu love is meant; Sing, my soul, thy recognition! % Sing, and be content! PERSONAL SUMMER WORK. - KIt is a mistake to rarard the season when men nrc in the Young Men's Christian Association rooms as the best time for personal work. The summer season, with the oatdoor sports, rambles, camps, etc., furnishes opportunity for a Christian worker to have ~ manv a quiet talk with friends ou religious subjects. Oftentimes the silence of a forest camp, the quietness of an evening hour, or the reiction of an exciting game will contribute to---. i state of mind which makes men approachiblc and confidential. A ftudy of the outO* door personal work of our fiord would be rich in example and ?ugga?tive to men who. In the rec. cations of the summer, are, like Him, going "about doing good." If we would only use' them there might be many rambling clouds which would oe* -. in spirit, a walk to Emmaus where men would say, "IMd not our hearts burn within no wViilo fio with US hv the W8V1* many seasons of prayer in the mountain, end' so on. The motto for the summer, and all other times, shou'd be. "As we have opportunity let us do good to all meo." ?[Y. Al. Era, Chicago. TELL OF THE LIVING CHRIST. We mis9 a large part of the substance of the. Gospel which we have to deliver to jail men if we tell them nothing more than the story of His eartlily ministry. We have not to give men merely a system of ethics constructed from the teaching of Christ and from the example of His perfect life; we have to tell them that Christ li^es, that He is the King of the human race, and that to '<$ siil.mit to His Dersonal authority is the first and supreme duty of every man, aud the condition of nil perfection. We have not merely to teach a great system of theological "truth founded on the earthly manifestation of God in Christ, and on all that Christ taught concerning the Father; we have to tell them that Christ lives, and that they are to find the living God in Him. We have not to te eh men a mere method of salvation revealed bv Christ eighteen centuries as:o?a method Ly which, If they understand it and use it, they can save themselves. The Christian method of salvation is the method by which Christ Himself taves men ; and we have to tell them that Christ is alive ?that from Ilia own lips they are to receive the pardon of sin, and that from His own volition thev ?re to receive the gift of eternal life. "\\Jith a dead Christ?a Christ belonging to a remote age of human history, and not able and eager to save men now? the Christian method of salvation would be worthless. It all depends on Him.?Re?; Dr. Dale. A BBAVE MAN. The following incident told by Mr. Frank Smith, deserves repeating for the benefit of those who did not hear it: A freight con ductor, who was converted at one of the services held by Mr. Smith in Chicago, concluded that as" a Christian man he would have family prayers, and not having a home of his own resolved to lmve them in his caboose. So ho talked to his train crew about it and they expressed their willingness to join with him, and therefore it became an established thing that at a certain point on their run where from the nature of the road the train did not need much attention, that they should gather in the caboose while the conductor would read from the Bible and lead in prayer. Their run was a "stock" run, and so they often had a number of stock men in the caboosc with them. On one of these occasions, when the caboosc was well filled with these men, smoking, swearing and telling their uot very choice stories, it came the appointed time for family prayers. Out friend, the conductor, was tempted surely to pass by his duty at this time, tout he did not, but "with true courage greater than that of many a m\n in facinc the cannon's mouth in the thick of battle, ne took out his Ril<lc. saviner to the men in the car, "Gentle men, we are accustomed at this point in out run to bave family prayers together, and il you have no objections we will proceed ac usual.'' They made no objections and the brave conductor read from God's Word and kneeled and prayed as usual, and after he was through, one of the stock men, taking bim by the band, said, ''Well, you are thi bravest man 1 ever saw."?fib. ADAPTATION" OF TIIE BIBLE. I do not care where you put the Bible, it just suits the p'ace. You put it iu the hand ^ of a man seriou4ly concerned about his souL dfl I s>ce people often eiving to the serious sonl ^ this and that book. It may be very well^fl but there is no book like the Bible. Take this Bible and place it in the bands o1 ^ men in trouble! Is there anybody herein trouble? Ah. I might better "ask. are there any here who have never been in trouble! [ Put this Bibie in the hands of the troubled. I You find that as some of the best berries ! grow on the sharpest thorns, sosomeofthi />niunioti,?!s i\f fhp fosnol crrow on the most stinging atl'.iction. You thoughl that denth bail grasped your child. Oh, no! It was only the heavenly Shepherd taking a lamb out of the cold. Christ ber.t over you as you held the child in your lap, and put ting his arms gently around the little one, , said: "Of such is the kingdom of heaven. Put the Bible in the school. 1'alsied be the hand that would take the Bible from th? college ami the school! Kducate only s turn's head and von make hira an inCdcL Educate only a man's heart and you inaki him a fanatic. Educate them both together and you have the noblest work of God. Ac educated man without moral principle is ? ship without a helm, a rushing rail trail without br.'kes or reverse rod to control tlx speed. Put the Bible in the family. Then it lies on the table, an unlimited power. Polygamy and unseriptural divorce are pro t'orf>nf? ;ip.> kind and faithful, ch.il dren polite and obedient, Domestic sorrows lessened by bein^ divided, joys increased bj beinjjr multiplied. Oh. father, oh. mother takedown that long-neglected Bible, and read it yourselves and let your childreu reai! it! Put the Bible on the rail trafn and on ship board, till al! parts of this land and all oihe) lands shall have its illumination. This houi there rises the veil of heathen worship, anc in the fa'-e of" this day's sun smokes tb? blood of human sacrifice. Give them th< Bible.?[Dr. Talmage. Two tears ago George Croft, of Osh kosh, Wis., loaned a friend $10 to be returned by mail. Soon after he received a letter asking if he had re*^| ceived the money. Croft replied no.' Soon after he received a letter with tha $10 in it, and the friend declared ha had once before sent the money. X short time ago Croft reoeived the first ?. letter containing $10, "which was sent Ang. 17, 1888, to Ashland, and had lain < there two years. J! lj