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0, CALM, SWEET fXUSl BY CHARLES CCUTZ HAEN. fbe power of thy calm face hath changed icy "life; Hath -weaned my heart from every low desire. Bt> through it, need I not the purge of death Nor cleansing of the purgatorial fire. Thy*sweet, calm face hath made me what 1 am. If any praise is due me for mv strife Against the sins which tempt the human eoal, I owe it all to thee and thy true life. The power of thy calm face is greater far Than words of priests or prayer of holy saints. With it before me, strong am 1 and great; Without thy face, my bpiri:, droops and faints. And can God frown, if thou lead on to Him The soul that sought for peace, and through thy face Was lifted to a higher aim in life. And by thee slowly walked from sin to grace ? Can He condemn, if, loving thee. I seek To reach the pureness of the saints above, Though I not travel in the way He taught But live pure life because I thee doth love? O! calm, 6weet face, thou art the power thai moves My soul to emulate the saints above; I shun the evil, choose the good. beca*se Thy face is good and thy pure face I love. So strong a power it hath upon me still, _ In all the trials of this life below, ^ it cannot. ia?i to ieaa me unwru nu In i& I see the light of heaven glow. Hutchinson, Kas. The Piccadilly Puzzle. TIB STORY OF A TERRIBLE EPISODE till THE LIFE OF Alt ENGLISH NOBLEMAN. By F. W. HUMS CHAPTER X?Continue*!. "First," asked Dowker, "do yon remember the night when Lady Balscombe eloped?" "Not being a born fool, I do," retorted Miss Lifford sharply. "Such goings on I never saw." \ "Can you tell me all that took place on that night?" Miss Lifford sniffed thoughtfully. "There was a ball they was going to." "Who were going to? "Lady Balscombe and Miss Penfold They did go, and left shortly before ten, but before I had time to turn round they were back again, aa Lady Balscombe said he had a headache." "Oh, so 1 suppoee she went to bed?" , "Then you suppose wrong," retorted Annie triumphantly, "for there was a puseon waiting to see her." "A lady?" asked Dowker eagerly. "1 donrt know," retorted Miss Lifford aharply. "She had a veil on." "Can vou describe her dres6?" Miss Lifford thought a moment, while Lydia bent forward anxiously to hear her answer. "A hat trimmed with blue and brown velvet, and a sealskin jacket." Lydia Fenny sank back in her seat with groan. "Oh, my poor mistress!" "Yonr mistresi!" echoed Mies Lifford, turning sharply. "It could not have been Miss Sarschine who called on that night." "But I'm certain it was," said Dowker. "What impertinence!" muttered the virtuous Annie. "Never mind," Baid Dowker, sharply. *Go on'with your story." Miss Lifford Bniffed indignantly and resumed: "Lady Balsc mbe returned at h8lf-past ten and went up to her dressing-room, where this?this lady was waiting for ber. Miss Penfold went to bed. I don't know how long the lady waB with my mistress, as I was told that my mistress would not require me again that night; but I waited about in case I should be wanted, and Baw the lady leave the hou&e shortly after eleven." "Miss Sarschine?" "Yes?at least the lady in the sealskin jacket, and yon say itwaB Miss Sarschine, k> I suppose it was. I then went to Lady Balscombe's room, but found the door locked; so, as I thought she had gone to bed, I went down-stairs to get my supper. When I came up-stairs again, about twelve, the door was still locked, so I vent to bed." "Lady Balscombe could not have gone out in the meantime?" "No; because I asked the footman if anyone had gone out or come in, and he said no one." "She could not have gone out without attracting the notice of the servants, I suppose?" "No, they would have recognized her at once. I think Bhe waited till everyone , was in bed and then went off to meet Lord n "But you are sure she did not leave till after twelve?" "I'd swear it anywhere," returned MiBS Lifford, impatiently. "In that case," muttered Dowker, "it could not have been Lady Baiscombe who eaw Mr. Desmond at Lord Calliston's chambers, so it must have been Lena Sarechine." "Do you want to know more?" asked Miss Lifford, icily. "Yes. Tell me, what was LadyBal6eombe like?" Miss Lifford laughed contemptuously. "Why, don't you know?" she replied. "Ton ought to, as she was one of the beanties of tne season. Her portrait was all over the place. Why," catching sight of the photograph on the 6tudy table, "you have one." Dowker handed her the photograph. "Do you say that is Lady Baiscombe?" "Yes, certainly." "What nonsense!" said Lydia. "Why, that is Miss Sarschine." "I never saw Miss Sarschine,'' retorted Miss Lifford, "but I know that's Lady Balscombe." "I never saw Lady Balscombe." replied Lydia, angrily, "but I know that's iliss Sarschine." Dowker looked from one to the other and then slipped the photograph into hit* pocket along with the letters and the other photograph. There's only one way of settling this, he said, quietly. "I'll call on the photographer and ask him who it i6." He gave Annie Lifford some money, asd then left the house wrapped in thought. "This is a new complication." he said | to himself, "this resemblance?they must I be very like one another if tbeir maids mix them up like this?and then Lena Sarschine calling on Lady Balscombe; I j wonder if there can be any relationship between them?not likely?a lady of title | apd a woman of ligtot character?well," j finished up Dowker, philosophically, "I think the best thing for me to do is to discover as much about Lena Sarschine's previous life as possible, and to do this I'll run down to *olKestone and ;ooi up Captain Michael Dicksfall." CHAPTER XI. a family histokt. Mr. Dowker was not a man to let gr&M grow under his f6et, bo be went ntraigbt to the photographer whose name was on the bacn of the portrait found in Lena Sarschine's possession and ascertained without much difficulty that it was that of Lady Balscombe. "Now, what ths deuce was that portrait 3 1 J l-'i" oa V)C i uuiug ixi 11 ex utJbKr 11c wuuoiou, left the gallery, "and why should Lvdir Fenny mistake it for her mistress? ] wi?h I could get a picture of Ui6B Sarschine." But he could not manoce this. For. ' according to Lydia Fenny~ MiBB Sarschine would never consent to have hei portrait t&ken; bo that be bad do means of learning if there was such a wonderful resemblance between the two women except by personal description, which wa? not by any means satisfactory. , Under these circumstances there wae only one thing to be done?see Captain Dicksfall, the father of Lena?bo. putting a few things together, Dowker caught the afternoon train to Folkestone form Charing Cross. Dowker duly arrived at Folkestone and took &p his abode in a hotel in the Sandigate Road, where he ordered himself a pleasant little dinner and made the acquaintance of a fatherly old waiter who knew everyone and everything. This waiter at the Prince's Hotel rejoiced in the name of Martin, and, hovering about Dowker, armed with a napkin and a pint bottle of Heidsick, managed IO BailblJ ium gcukicuiaa a wuijud*.-., w~cerning the existence of Captain Michael Dicksfall. "Yes, sir?know him well, sir?by sight, sir." he said, brimming th? empty glass with champagne. "Hold gentleman, sir ?bin in the army?'ad two daughters." "Two daughters?" repeated Dowker, eagerly. "Yes, sir?Miss Amelia and Miss Helena. Bir?twins?as fine-looking gals as you ever saw, sir?tall, 'andsome, and golden 'air." *0h, indeed!" replied Dowker indifferently. "And are they living with Captain Dicksfall?" "No, 6ir," said Martin gravely. "You see, sir, Miss Helena fell in love with a gent who was stopping at the Pavilion, sir, and went off with him." "What was his name?" "Don't know, sir. He called himself Carrill, but they do say it was not his right name." "Humph!" t\a?r1,aM o IJHln nrflr this It U%J wACl ^uuugiou a ?iw*v w?v? ? , was as be bad thought after reading tbe j letters. Lord Calliston bad masqneraded at Folkestone under tbe name of Carrill, and bad inveigled Helena Dikcsfjill away from borne and kept ber in St. John's "Wood as "Lena Sarscbine." "And the other young lady," he asked, "Miss Amelia?" "Oh, 6he made a good match, sir," replied Martin. "Married Sir Rupert Balscombe, sir, about a year ago. But I did 'ear. sir, as 'ow she ad bolted last week, sir, with Lord Calliston?same blood, sir: it will come out." And Martin departed to attend upon an important customer. "Same blood," repeated Dowker musingly. "I wonder if he knows it's the same man? Calliston evidently bad a penchant for tbe family, for there seems to be no doubt- that Miss Sarscbine and I Lady Balscombewere sisters. So be kept one and made love to tbe other! Queer? deuced queer! Well, I think I had better look up Captain Dioksfall." He linished bis wine, and, putting on bis hat, went out into tbe cool evening and strolled leisurely along tbe Leas, first having taken the precaution of putting Dicksfall's address in his pocket. Hfc had no difficulty in finding Captain Dicksfall's cottage, which was a comfortable-looking place with a small garden in front. A neat maid servant admitted him into a dusky passage, and from thence showed him into a small drawing-room, ai the end of which, near the window, Cap! tain Dicksfall lay on a sofa, looking ont on to a quiet street. A haggard, pale face, worn by suffering, bat which had once i been handsome. He lay supinely on the sofa in an attitude of utter lassitude, covered by a heavy rug, and his slender white hands were toiyng with a book which was lying on his lap. * He turned fretfully when Dowker entered, and spoke in the querulous voice of as invalid. "What is it, my good man?" he said peevishly. "Why do you come and disturb me at this hour? My doctor has ordered complete rest, and how can I get it if yoa trouble me?" "Selfish old chap," thought Dowker, but without saying a word he took his Eeat near the invalid and commenced tc talk. "I am sorry to trouble you, sir," he said, respectfully, "but I wanted to see you about your daughters." "My daughters!"echoed Captain Dicks, fall angrily. "You are making a mistake. I have only one?.Lady uaiscomoe: Dowker felt disappointed. "I understood you had two daughter*, sir?Lady Balscombe and Miss Helena DicksfallV" The invalid turned sharply on him. "Who the devil are you to intrude yourself into my private affaire?" Dowker came at once promptly to the point. "My name is Dowker. I am a detective." Captain Dicksfall struck his hand angrily down on the pillow. "Sent by Sir Rupert, I presume?" he Raid with a sneer. "He wants to get a divorce, and you have come to me fo? evidence. I know nothing. My daughter was always a good daughter to me, and if Sir Rupert had treated her well this elopement with Lord Calliston would never h ive taken place. He is to blame, cot she." "1 do not come from Sir Rupert," said Dowker coldly." but from Scotland Yard. * "About what?" "The deata or your otner aaugmer. Captain Dicksfall started up -with > groan, and stared wildly at Dowser. 'Good God! Is Helena dead?" "Who is Helena?" asked Dowker stolidly. "My daughter?my daughter." "I thought you said you'd only one, sir." The 6ick man turned away his face. "I had two," he said in a low tone, "but one, the eldest, ran away witn some scamp cal.ed Carrill. Since then I have heard nothing of her, so I always say I have only one." Dowker thought for a few moments. It was a very delicate position to occupy, and, feeling it to be so, for a moment he wa6 doubtful as to how to proceed. "Captain Dicksfall," he said at length, "1 know I am only a common man and you are a gentleman. It is not for such as me to speak to you about your private affairs, but thiB is a matter of life or death to a human being; and if you hear my story I am 6ure you will not refuse to hfelp me by telling me what I want to know.' Dicksfall was looking at the detective with a somber fire bu-uine In his usually bright eyes, then with a sigh he lay down and prepared to listen. "Tell me what you wish," he 6aid languidly, "and if possible I will do what you require." Whereupon Dowker told him the story of the Jermyn Btreet murder, the elopement of Lady Balscombe, and the reasons he had for believing that the two incidents were connected in some mysterious way. He also informed him of the arrest of Myles Desmond, and of the doubts he entertained concerning his criminality. At the conclusion Dicksfall was silent for a minute, then turned toward the detective and clasped his thin fingers nervously together. "I am a proud man." he 6aid, with a touch of pathos, "and do not care about telling the world my private affairs; but in a case 1 ke thi6 it is only right I 6houla put myself aside for the sake of clearing the character of an innocent man. What do you wi6b to know?" "Was Lena Sarschine your daughter?" For ansrer Dicksfall pointed to a small table near at hand upon which was a mo; rocco frame containing two portraits, i Dowker took them to the window and looked at them. "Both of the same lndy?" he asked. Dicksfall smiled f iintly. "You are not the first who has Deen deceived," he eaid with a sigh. "No. One ia my daughter Helena, who, from your story, I believe lo be Lena Sarschine. and the' other i? Amelia, Lady Balscombe? twine.* Dowker examined the photographs cloBely, and was astonished at the like* ' m?11 :.j? J ? # nese, wnicn was xuriuer tuucu uj uum them being dressed exactly alike. "It Is wonderful," he said, and no longer wondered at the way in which Lydia Fenny and Annie Lifford had confused the identity of tne portrait found in Lena Sarschine's desk. "I have been living here for many years," said Dicksfall, in a low voice, "and my two daughters lived with me. Their mother has been dead a long time. About three years ago a young man who called himself Carnll came here and stopped at the Pavilion Hotel. He obtained an introduction to me by some means, and appeared to be struck with the beauty of Helena. 1 tfiougnt ne was going to marry her, when I heard rumors as to the fastness of his life and also that he was not what he represented himself to be. I taxed him with it, bnt he denied the accusation, yet so transparent was his denial that I forbade him tbe house. The result was that Helena Ban away with him, and, until the time you spoke* to me of her and told me his real name, I did not know it, and never entertained any suspicion of his real rank in life. I was so angry that I forbade Helena's name to be mentioned in my hearing, and always said, as I did to-night, that I had only one daughter?my daugther Amelia, married to Sir Rupert Balscombe 1 ist year? and I thought she would, at least, not follow the example of her sister. Now, however, I know all; but, to tell you the truth, I blame Sir .Rupert ior ner eiopement, as I know she was a kind daughter and I am sure she'd have made a good wile. He was very jealous of her and had a fearful temper, so I dare say he drove her to it, From what you say, I suppose my poor Helena went to see her sister on the night of the elopement to dissuade her from going with Lord Calliston, and surely sne had the best right to speak of one who had ruined her own life, but evidently her arguments were of no avail, and she called at Calliston's chambers to remonstrate with him. He was not there and she went out to her death, and then Amelia eloped with him, as you have told me. I was a fast man in my youth and the sins of the father are being visited on the children." "But this does not clear up the mystery of Lena Sarscinne's aeatn. "Don't call her by that name," said i Dicksfall, angrily. "It is the name that | shames her. No, yon are right; it does I not explain her death. But I do not know, j from what you say, what motive Myles Desmond could have had in mnrdering I her." "Do yon know the name of anyone who admired her?" ! "No-" -Not one?" "Not one." There was clearly nothing more to be ! gained from Dicksfall, so Dowker respectfully said good-by and took his leave. j "At all events," he said to himself, as he wended his way back to his hotel, "I've found out one thing ? Lena Sar- I [ schine and Lady Balscombe were sisters, and both loved the same man. What I'd like to know is, whether Lady Balscombe killed her sister out of jealousy. I'm Betting more perplexed than ever. This vfsit, instead of clearing up tne mystery, deepens it. I think I'll see Sir Bnpert Bals- I combe and ask him about things; as his wife is mixed up in it I've a right, and I'd give anything to save that young felI low's life, because I'm sure he's innoj cent." [TO EE CONTINUED.] CURIOUS FACTS. Tubs were first made in Prance. I The Kaffirs have thirteen paradises. Kansas is trying to exterminate^-the j wolf. j No bank failure has occurred in China for 900 years. | Swans have been known to live to be 300 years old. Three times as many herrings are consumed as any other kind of fish. A fish dealer in Maine on cutting open - f/sunr? flirrKt fMTPnfu-nPnnv a jcuyw ^ciwu iuuuu -?.w?j r? nails in the stomach. French salad plates with comic pictures and explanatory legends help conversation at the dinner table. Tne Jains of India frequently undergo faets of forty days, partaking during that time only of warm water. Live fish have been safely sent in the mail from India to the British Museum. They are now prospering in the tanks of the museum. Fathom is from the old Aryan root fat, to extend, and denotes the distance from tip to tip wnen tne arms 01 uu averagesized man are fully extended. A whitewoodtree at Algansee, Mich., made one fourteen-foot log aad four each twelve feet long; the five scaled 5594 feet and sold for $98.84. In the stomach of an 1800-pound ox, which died at Portland, Mich., was found a double-handful of bits of nails, and some whole-length tenpennie3, several of which had latally penetrated the parts. It is known that the hoofs of horses were protected by boots of leather at a very early period in the world's history ? at a time which at least antedates Pliny and Aristotle, both of whom make mention of the fact. Los Andes, of Guayaqual, Equador, reports the discovery in that city of an ancient chronometer which, from the date and inscription it bears, is believed to have belonged to rizarro s party wi Conquistadores. A woman in New Jersey wants n divorce from a dead man. Her first husband was killed in the war, and her second husband is dead, and she wants a divorce from him so that she can get the benefit of a widow's pension. When Newfoundland was first discovered it was inhapited by a race of aborigines known as the "Red Indians," so named from the habit they had of painting themselves with red ochre. They were a harmless, inoffensive people, armea wun ujws uuu mruwo. A German peasant woman, in the ab? eence of her husband, sells two fat cows to a passing dealer. As he says h? has no money with him she is unwilling to let him have them without security. "Very well," he says, "then I will leave one of the eows for security." The woman agrees and calmly allows him to march off with the other cow. Philadelphia has at last "got the bulge" on New York. The latter has always sneered at the former as slowgoing: but in the matter of aiding the famine-stricken Russians it i8 miles ahead of its "fast" sister. Uew York ought to apologize and hurry up Its Russian contribution. Even Greece is having a little Cabinet matinee and party feeling runs very high in the classic environments of Athens. To full the wool over a man's eyes has a tendency toward making him feel sheepish. "WILD ANIMALS. 1 ______ VISIT TO A NOTED LONDON ESTABLISHMENT. The "One and Only Janirach's." Where Beasts and Birds ot Every Kind Are For Sale?Some Queer Specimens. HERE are \ places in London 1 ^ which are yf*7\ l?^S)i&3 mucl1 vJh^vJl / It&Jk- Part8 ]ts w? OukJ Wr & ,ife'as thor- ! be* t t LOT*^555^^ A longing to * i^m[WxM W*7 * its institu.'iM .&CV tionB, asthe V\\WS# J^N ham and \ IrjSnvf^V^ beef shops - /Ty$kl\^ and the UfyV^WfA / lodginB/? Jr \ ' houses are 7 \ such parts. For instance, who does not know and , feel a curious proprietory interest in the Zoo, or the British Museum, or Hyde Park, or the old tower, or the National [ Gallery? Who can imagine a London with none of these treasure houses 01 learning or of amusement and interest? : In lesser degree there are certain shops so long established that they have be- 1 come very largely of public interest. Of : these a quaint old animal dealing firm in what was once "Ratcliffe highway," is J probably as well known to the general visitor as the Zoo. I refer to ,,Jamrach's." i It is always very interesting to prowl about the East End of London. As a | "slum'' the East End is no longer dan- ' gerous to tho pedestrian. Yet it is suf- 1 ficiently unsavory'to the sense of smell ' and bizarre to the age to attract the pen of the journalist or the amateur curious 1 "to know, don't you know." In this region are ever so many bird and animal shops, but there is only one Jamrach where, for over half a century, has been i carried on the most extensive trade of TACKLING T1 this kind in the kingdom, from parrots to panthers, with a liberal showing of j all kinds of rare and curious beasts and birds. Driving through what has now become known as "Jack the Ripper's Land,' i I was first of all amused at the sarcasm of i the street nomenclature. ' "King's Row" i was desperately squalid and filthy, and j its out-door denizens were mostly very j drunk. 31iddlesex street seem peopled with the ghosts of its victims murdered by the mysterious destroyer. Whitechapel road with its "London Hospital," and not far off its "People's Palace," for the poor and lonesome ones, are bright, clean spots in this sanguinary region. Jamrach's is reached all too soon. A shabby, unpretentious doorway, having I vtsvfkirk/v norflAlllov fr\ iNfl UUVillU^ iU ViVUittt HV % ?> ent from several small-fry bird shops or the dull, crooked ones in the same I street. The door opens with a sharp i ring and discloses a square, sawdust-besprinkled room. Besides the scores and ! scores of birds in cages there is only a heavy-looking but good-natured country lad in the room, who addre3ses one in broad Somersetshire dialect, which sounds still more quaint by contrast to the Cockney lingo all around this particular portion of the metropolis. Briefly explaining to the lad my mission he immediately conducted me along a narrow passage, crammed full of images, and curios on high shelves, until ' the private office of the present Jamrach, the son Charies of the noted dealer in ( animals was rearhed. Like his father, { Charles loves all animals, and he possesses the same extraordinary power of subduing 1 toe Wildest, most UUiamuuir ureaiuj co. These learn the sound of the voice and are * quick to differentiate that of the trainer. I Mr. Jamrach believes that certain ani- ( mals are better managed by certain peo- ( pie than others are on the theory in common with the particular human be- 1 ing with whom they thus affiliate) to < use a strong expression. 1 _ I fpr?r? ivrtriv J I J I asked ray host "what he thought, ? also what his father had thought of the * Darwinian theory." "Well," he re- ( plied, "lather did not trouble his head < much over it, but I am of the opinion 1 that there i9 a deal in Darwin, though I f don't go quite so far as did the renowned 1 writer. No one can be witis animals t and not be impressed with the theories 1 of species of the great scientist. Now, 1 look at that cage behind you, with its < grotesque little golden lion marmoset. s Observe the human expression ot this * smallest of all the monkey tribe, with its t fierce miniature lion bead and mane. See, be is clinging to the bars of bis cage to attract your attention, and singing bis weird song. This is most unusual, for he seldom notices strangers." I stood close to the cage, and sure enough I heard a low, sweet song like that of a singing mouse, though less monotonous. Pushing two of the bars wider apart the little creature got his head through and his odd fore paws, like tiny arms and bands. He nestled bis head in my outstretched hand, patted my fingers and almost spoKe to me in his affectionate little way. Reluctantly leaving the little stranger marmoset I come next to an abrupt animal contrast. This is a cage of Indian snake killers, and they greatly interest me. They are sleek, small and seem gentle. Yet they are deadly foes to the most awful Indian snakes. They spring forward quickly and bite the snakes in a vital part, inducing almost instant death to the dangerous reptiles. Despite the good the snake killer does I felt him to - *- A 1* oe a Bomewnat uncanny creature. jjllt. Jamrach says be is harmless to all o^ier animals than snakes, and is most teachable and tractable to human beings. Near the snake killers is the cage of the famous "Tasmanian devil." This is a black-furred animal resembling a fox. I should say that all "the cast-out deTils" of Scripture lore must have found a perpetual home in these vicious, snarling beasts of prey, who do nothing but savagely growl and froth at the mouth, and restlessly move from side to side. Shudderingly I pass on to "the house of dens," connected to the main Jamrach building by a paved court. In this house I am interested in the specimens of dwarf Burmah cattle. When the country is prosperous landed gentry purchase these cattle for their country estates. But, "like all else in life,'' remarks my host, "when there is little money people spend less upon their various 'fads.'" The pumas, the lions, the tigers, claim passing attention, and I am amused to watch a huge tabby cat who gaze 3 through the bars of a cage which is occupied by a panther, a sort of cousin-german to pussy. My thoughts wander, and I am scarce IE TIGER. ly aware of the kangaroos, with their grotesque skip and jump, as I peer into their cage. They are exceptionally tame, and one advances close to the cage door to be noticed. The next cage contains a large, beautiful peacock, dying slowly I learn. Since Mr. Jamrach pere died the bird has literally grieved itself to death, as it was a lavorite with the old gentleman. LUNCHEON. * Presently I am conducted to the cage >f the celebrated breed of pigeons,which ire known as the "bleeding hearts.1' rheir plumage is silvery white or gray, ,vhile on the breast a spot or splash? jlood red?suggests that the bird has )een crually stabbed. The illusion is perfect, even the darker red spots, like congealed blood, fringing the sanguinary ;dges of the apparent wound. The bird that repels me, scares me, in fact, is the vampire bat. It hangs by its :laws on the perch, dragging open its fan-like wings with a swishing sound. I arrow faint as I hear that in the tropic ind whence it comes it enters the sleeping-room of the unwary traveler, swishes its wings about, lulling the victim into deeper sleep, then softly, silently, with 3eadly purpose, settles on the feet of the rictim, uncovered, most likely, in that hot atmosphere, and with diabolical thirst draws the blood, drop by drop, from the flesh. I turn eveu from the uttendant, who lets down a date in the open beak of the vampire,and I conclude none but ignoble natures could affiliate with such a monster. Meantime the creature has rolled itself in its wings and hangs like a big cocoon from its spidery perch. As I leave, thanking Mr. Jamrach, I idd, "May the god of prosperity keep ijood guard oyer this half-renturv-old MtoKHohmonf. known throughout all I countries as 'the oue and only Jamracb.' " ?San Francisco Chronicle. Artificial Coffee. Some packages of coffee are made of Deas, rye. roasted and ground, almond | ihells treated with molasses,beans,acorns ind chicory. There are twenty different substances known to the trade as "coffee substitutes." Among these are the artiicial beans,made out of potato starch and >ther materials, which are imported from rermany in large quantities, for mixing vith the real article. They can be deected by the fact that they will sink iu vater, whereas true coffee beans will loat. Shriveled coffee beans are comnonly soaked in salt water to make them . T> i'e usual tn prtrflCt the I uua pi uiuaw uk.uu. , issential oils from coffee beans before elling the latter as coffee, the essences jeing manufactured separately into eiracts.?Washington Star. -. - _ j. ?,:* ' ' f/:. " :j ' jt A Marine Monster. Oakland has a something for 'which everybody is trying to find a name. flstmtfk r?oll if o fioV* onH nflioro />1oca if urifK the serpents. As it was caught in the bay the fish theorists maintain that their position is correct, but the contrary minded point to the barrel-shaped body and the hideous head of the something in support of their belief that it is a snake, and an ugly one at that. From the tip of its ugly nose to the end of its equally ugly tail the body is five and one-half feet long. It is round in shape and the body tapers from the THE MA3TFI8H. head to a fine point at the tail. The capton state that it wriggled very anakishly through the water. The thing has fias jast like any well-constructed fish. This head of the monster is enough to scare a delirium tremens patients into an insane asylum. It is a very large head, shaped like a sealion's, with huge staring round eyes, two small ears that lie closc to the head and a very large mouth armed with two rows of formidable looking fangs and a forked tongue. The tongue, the captors aver, darted scrpentwise in and out of the mouth when the thing was alive. The head has patches of black silky hair scattered over it. A. son of William Reuter and a friend were the captors. They were fiBhing off the north side of Goat Island jrhen they noticed the monster wriggling in the v water. The boat's painter was speedily converted into a lariat, and when the fish-snake poked its hideous head above the water it was made prisoner. Th? young men had a hard fight with I the monBter, but they finally landed it ii^ the boat and conveyed it to Oakland,' where it has been on exhibition. The monster weighs 18? pounds. A telegram from Oakland states that 4 Berkeley professor who has been studying over the matter has found out what the something is and* triumphantly pronounces its name. , The professor's designation of thd snake-fish is anarrhiehilthys ocellatus? at least that is the telegraph operator's version of it. At all events it is a very queer fish, and it is found only in the Pacific Ocean and the arms thereof.?* San Francisco Chronicle. Mnlej Hassan, Saltan of Morocco. Something over a hundred yean ago the then reigning saltan of Morocco took as his wife a red-haired, and blue-eyed Irish girl, the young widow of a sergeant of engineers who had died in Morocco. This Celtic lady seems to have left a famous record behind her. She not only ruled the sultan's barem, but the sultan himself, and not infrequently rode into battle at the head of her husband's troops. Ber son, known as Mulai Tezzid, inherited much of her pluck and spirit and was in open rebellion at the-time of his fath er's death. It is a very open question how much of the blood of this Irish lassie runs in the veins of the present sultan of Morocco, Muley-el-Hassen; but it is at least interesting to assume that the known partiality of this bloodthirsty ruler for the British nation is due to the romantic marriage which bis ancestor made over a century agp. Recently the present sultan has stirred up a little bad feeling between himself and France over the oases of Touat, Gcurara and Aougerout. These have a population of about two thousand people. The natives have appealed to the sultan of Morocco to take the oases under his protection. He has since collected tribute. The French protested against this move on the part of the sultan and for H x?i.J Ti r\( many proiesieu. ?i was tuc mkcuuvu the sultan to proclaim bis dominion over SULTAN MULEY HASSAN. the territory in May or Jane last, but iD view of the French protests and the fact that France had garrisoned EI Golea, he hesitated. Meantime his agents again visited the oases to gather tribute, but the natives had changed their minds regarding the desirability of having the sultan for their protecior. They cut off the heads of five of the 6ultan's taxgatherers. Subsequently the French dispatched a force from Themcen, sixtyeight miles southwest of Oran, to seize the disputed territory. It will thus be coon that thfi French have Darticular reason to object to Britiah aggression in \ Morocco, fearing, as they do, that in the event of England getting a further foothold in the country the French plans for developing their West African possessions by means of a route to Algeria might be frustrated.?Chicago Post. [&The Germans propose to erect a monument at the spot where General Blucher crossed the Rhine on his march to assist Wellington at Waterloo. It is to be in the shape of a statue of Blucher. i ... ... SABBATH SCHOOL. international lesson foa may 1. Lesson Text: "The Prayer of the Penitent," Psalm II., 1-18?Golden Text: Psalm II., 10? Commentary. 1. "Have mercy upon me, 0 God. according to Thy loving kindness; according unto the multitude of Thy tender mercies blot oat my transgressions This is the third of the seven penitential psalms, the others being the vi., xxxii.. cii., cxxx., cxliii., xxxviiL The title gives the circumstances which led David to write this psalm, and the whole story is found in II Sam. xi, and xif. Let all consider the true significance of the seventh commandment as taught by our Lord Jesus, and let only those who are not guilty throw stones. 2. "Wash me thoroughly from mine iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin." Like the leper who said, "Lord, if Thou wilt Thoa canst make me clean" (Math, viii 2), he believes that the Lord can cleanse him, and he wants it done thoroughly. How such a word as 1 John i., 9, would have comforted him 'if we confess our sins He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness." But he had virtually the same teaching in Lev. ri., 1-7. 3. "For 1 acknowledge my transgressor; and my sin is ever before me." ''Only acknowledge thine iniquity, that thou bast transgressed against the Lord thy God," was God's plea with Israel by Jeremiah (Jer. iii., 13). David does this, not making light of it nor seeking to hide either his iniquity, the root of all the trouble, or his transgression in which he overstepped the line, or his sm in which he came short of the mark (Ex. xxxiv., 7). 4. "Against thee, thee only, havefl sinned, and done this evil in thy sight; that thorn mightest be justified when thougpeakest,and be clear when thou judgest" When Nathan reproved him he said, "I have sinned the Lord" (II Sam. xii, 18). When Joseph was sore tempted, instead of yielding as David did, he said, "How can I do this great wickedness and sm against Godf (Gen. xxxix., 9.) 5. "Behold, I was shapen in iniquity, and in sin did mv mother conceive me. David recognizes sin in his naiure, he did not believe that we are by nature holy, but as Paul testifies by the Spirit, "By nature the children of wrath, even as others" (Eph. ii., 3). "By one man sin entered the world, and death by sin; and so death passed upon all men." "The carnal mind is enmity against God" (Rom. v., 12; viii., 7j. 6. "Behold, thottdedrest truth in. the inward narts: and in the hidden oarfc than ahalt make me to know wisdom." There la something in us known in Scripture u "The imaginaiion of the thoughts ot the Heart" (I Chron. xxvUi., 9; xxix., 18). And it la writ-' ten, "I, the Lord, search the heart, I try the rems." , 7. "f urge me with hyssop and I shall be dean, wash me and I snail be whiter than snow." God made provision for the cleansing of the people whom He redeemed from the bondage of Egypt, and to understand this verse one should be familiar with the story of the leper and the two little birds of Lev. xiii. and xiv., and also the red heifsr story of Num. six. In the cleansing of each case, the leper and the defilement contracted . by the way, the unclean one could do nothing for himself until pionounced dean by the priest. The hyssop waa used to sprinkle the olcod, or the ashes and water, which symbolised and typified the blood of Jesus Christ. (See Lev. xiv., 4, 7; Num. xix., 18, / and compare Isa. I., 18.) 3. "Make me to hear joy and gladness, that the bones which thou bast broken, may rejoice." One's very bones are figuratively said to suffer because of sin. "Iffy bones wazea old tnrougn my roaring au uw aay long." Neither is there any rent in my bonee, because of my sin" (Ps. xxxil, 8; xxxviii, 3). And of Christ, oar substitute, bearing oar sins, it is written: "I am poured out like ' water and all my bones are out of joint. My heart is like wax; it is melted & the midst of my bowels" (Ps. xxiL, 14). How fearful is sin thus to affect the Holy One of Hod. 9. "Hide Thy face from my sins and blot out all mine iniquities." God said oonoern- ' y ins Israel, "Mine eyes are upon all their j. ways; they are not hid from My face, neither ! is their iniquities hid from Mine eyes" (Jer. xvi., 17). r But Hezekiah could my after ills ' repentence, "Thou hast cast all my sins be- / hind Thy back" (Iss. xxxviii., 17), and con-, , cerning Israel when she shall retorn to God ; it is written, "I have blotted out as a thick I cloud thy transgressions, and as a cloud thy 1 sins." "Thou wilt cast all their sins into toe M depths of the sea" (Isa. xlii., 25; xlvi., 23; M Mic. vii., 19). M 10. "Create in me a clean heart, Oh Gal; M and renew a right spirit within me," This S is going to the root of the difficulty. We S sometime* bear of a change of heart; if by that is meant a new one instead of the old sinful one, all is well; for the old cannot be improved (Rom. viii., 7). We most be bom from above (John 111, 3, margin) and receive - a nature we never had before, even the divine nature (11 Pet. i, 4). before we can I enter the kingdom of God. This God is | ready to do for us, bat He wants as to ask Him lEzek. xxxvi., 26, 27, 87). What ia 9 worth haviag is sorely worth asldng for. 11. "Cast me not away from Thy pree- jjj race, and take not Thy Holy Spirit from 9 me." Motes prayed, "If Thy pretence go H not with me. carry as not ap hence." And fl the Lord sala, "My presence shall go with thee, and I will give thee rest (Ex. nrgiii, M 14,15). The strength and comfort of Moae^ m Joshua, fiideon, Jeremiah and all the ser^ H vante of God was His presence with them (Ex. iii., 12: Josh, i., 5: Judg. vi., 16; JsT.,' l; 8,19). And to uso&Lonl has said, "La, 1 am with you alway" (Math, xxviii. 30). H He has promised never to leave na, and has] V told us that the Spirit will abide in us (John S xiv? 17), so that if we will we may rejoice J in the abiding of tbe Father, Son and Spirih in us (John xiv., 17, 23). H 12. "Restore "Tin to me the joy of Thy salvation, and uphold me with Thy free mm spirit.*' Salvation and the joy of salvation; rm are two different things: the last we may J jj lose, bat not the first Many have the firraf 4 who have not the last. Receiving Jesus, wel; have life and are children of God (John il 12; iii., 16), but assurance and joy comes aj' resting on the iafallible word ot God irrespective of our feelings concerning the result; of such acceptanco of Christ (Rom. xv? ^18;1 I Pet. J.', 8). The Spirit works through/ His: word and thus gives us fullness of joy (John xv. 13; I John 1., 4). 13. "Then will I teach transgressors Thy ways, and sinners shall be converted unto Thee." This is the end of our salvation or restoration, that others may hear of Jesus. Jesus instructed Peter that after he was restored he should strengthen his brethren (Luke xxii., 32). Being saved, we should forget entirely our own welfare, and give ourselves as living sacrifices to make known His, righteousness, show forth His praise, and; thus hasten ttie time when He snail appear] in His glory to build ap Zion. See verses 14, 15, 18, and compare Ps. cii., 10.?Lesson Helper. f .'V Sch wisiNFURTH, the unspeakable leader of that refuge at Bockford Impiously called "heaven," Is defend" ? * AltuinU a n aut J La LUC VUUill \AJ a of alienating the affections of a Chicago matron, and will be called upon to defend a suit for $50,000 damages. The false prophet announces as hi? line of defense the "showing up" of the husband's character. That husband. the plaintiff, is a man of wealth and comfortable income, whose home i has been ruined by the influence of the bogus christ. His wife has gone from him it) a manner worse than death. Win daughters are poisoned with the baneful doctrine, and all the earth holds dear for him is sinking In the bottomless slime of that "prophet's" following. The morions n * "WontJAA tt ! oro nnvo ? o n rr ft r_ a v i^aufw 'toiu ut fti uiuic uau^vi ous to society than is George J. Schweinfurtb. Within or without the law there should be 6ome method of whipping him out of the country. The admitted right of all men to worship God according to the dictates of their own consciences grants to no man immunity in this wholesale debauching of women.