The Abbeville press and banner. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, May 30, 1894, Image 6
1 WOULDN'T IF I WERE A GIRI
BY THEBOJf <?. OSBORNE.
'Daring life ease my ribs for a moment c
two?
I couldn't If I were a girl.
rd rave o'er the maid with her collar cu
low?
I wouldn't If I were a girl;
At the opera sit .'n the bald-headed row?
I-woaldn't if I were a girl.
Fd wear broad soles with long-pointed toe<
rd shun hidden laces and scout furbelows
And when sidewalks were muddy, roll u
my clothes?
I wouldn't If I were a girl.
rd smoke a cigar with my heels on i
chair?
I wouldn't If I were a girl;
With my sweetheart below would run dowi
the stair?
I wouldn't if I were a girl.
rd accept Nature's verdict on shape, notb
ing loath,
Td tell you my age, e'en though not unde
oath,
Td ride a horse right side or left side?a
both?
f wouldn't if I were a slrL
Tour secret way down in my heart I woul<
keep?
I couldn't If I were a girl;
1b gossipy scandals would now and tbei
peep?
I wouldn't If I were a glrL
I'd scrapie at powder and all that deceive*
Td avoid the peach tint in which no one believes,
1M use my elastics to hold up my sleevesI
wouldn't if were a glrL
From Sin to Contritioi
W.. '' '
Lucy Warriihi's Sacrifice.
The Story of a Hasty Marriage ant
Its Tragic Sequel.
*
BY ERNST BRUNCKEN,
Author of "The Bibliomaniac's Crim&J
"A Terrible Secret," ftc., etc.
k- ~T?
CHAPTER XL
Mr. Wa'ter Warringham was in ai
angry mood. He was angry with him
ell. with hJs late mother, with hi:
cousin Hattie, with the world in eeneraL
The last will of the late Mrs. War
ringbam was the fault of lttll.
Equal division between bim and Hatth
Bockford! That left bim only a yearlj
* - l AT ? 1 T>?+ U,
income 01 auuui ieu luuusauu. uuu u<
wanted more, much more.
lie bad no objection against makinf
proper provision for his coufein. either Ji
the form of a nice round sum or ever
an annual!;pension of a couple of thou
sand dollars But equal division!
Mr. \yarringham had debts, man:
debts. Ahd now, after his mother'!
death, the creditors would all be upoi
him with their clamor. After he ha<
paid them all out of the principal, hi!
income would be reduced to less thai
fix thousand. Ridiculous! Worse thai
nothing!
Mr. Walter Warringham was ver;
%ngfy with his late mother.
He was angry with himself. For wh:
<UU 11B QUIi C.VCUCU l iuuucuv.'
Upon the old lady, St) as to prevent he
from committing such stupid blundersl
His cousin naturally came in for <
hare of his anger. Sh3 had not don
anything in particular, but allowed her
elf to Se made an heiress. Walter hai
a vague idea that this was unwarranta
"ble presumption on the part of Miss Beck
lord.
The world in general, no doubt, de
erved Mr. W^ringham's anger, even i
only on general principles.
There was not much consolation in th
fact that Balph?who, by the Way, mus
lave cone utterly crazy?acquiesced Ii
the will that left him penniless.
As Wa'^er lay upon the sofa, smokin
cigarettes and arintang oranay-ano
water, he could only see one bright spec!
In his prospects.
< He bad been made Hattie's guardia
during her minority. For three year
he Would have the management of he
property.. Some way might perhaps b
found to make bis by stratagem wha
ehould properly belong to him withou
any ado.
,? The simplest way out of the difficult
ailght perhaps be to marry the girl. No
a bad idea.
Such was Mr. Warringham's train o
"thoughts, which he pur?ued until th
usual hour of his appearing at the ciut
where he continued the laborious occt
patio a or lounging wun ine ease ux un
who has long been accustomed to sue
arduous pursuits.
Ralph Warriogham's unexpected n
fnsai to contest his mother's will in codi
had made the settlement of th3 estate
comparatively easy matter. The lat
Mrs. Warringham's affairs were in e:
eellent order, and when, after a very fe<
weeks, all the -necessary legltl forms ha
been gone through, the two heirs foun
themselves eac h in the possession of a
estate that wou.d yield a yearly incoin
of SI0,000.
Miss Hattie Beckford accepted th
fortune tuat had so unexpectedly falle
to her lot with very great equanimity
After the earthly remains of Mrs. Wai
ringham had been interred with all th
\ pomp due to her social eminence, Hattl
had accepted the invitation of a relatio
In a neighboring city to take up he
Abode with her. There she lived ver
retired, as befitted one so lately be
reaved and as best suited her predile<
tions. For the deep sorrow she had es
perieuecd had made a lasting impressio
on her mind and she had become ur
, usually thoughtful for one so young.
As far as Walter was concerned, h
had taken lodgings at a hotel Th
great house that had been the Warrinf
ham residence for so many years svoo
empty. The window blinds were closed
the door-bell had not been rung fc
ever so many * day. and the place b(
gan to exhibit that air of meianchol
decay which characterizes uninhabite
houses.
Walter intended to sell the property s
soon as ho could with advantage. H
* needed cash.
Of his cousin he saw and heard vei
little. The two had never cared muc
lor each other. Even when she was
little child Hattie had always preferre
to play with the elder of her two bi
cousins.
Mr. Walter Warringham was, then
fvre, a little astonished when he foun
in his mail a letter from Miss Eeckfon
stating that she would arrive in the cit
ou the nooo ti;ain to morrow. She wa
coming on business, the letter expressly
- intimated.
What business could the girl have?
Probably she wanted money. What a
boro! Walter thought of the long list
,j, of creditors he was pestered with, and
n on the scarcity of cash. Then he rung
for the waiter, aud ordered a small bottle
I of champagne.
With a yawn he took ap the letter once
J? more. At what hour was she to arrive?
0 Twelve o'clock! What a bore! He wonld
e have to get up early In the morning to
meet her at the statio'n. Confound these
k women folk! They are always bother>f
ing a fellow!
Then Mr. Walter Warringham ,drank
f his champagne and went over into the
card-room, wnere, in the course of the
ip evening, he lost several hundred dollars.
He was still in the same misanthropic
mood as the day before, when he went
to the station the following morning in
1 order to meet his cousin.
He took her to the hotel, and, after
both had had luncheon, expressed some
curiosity as to the nature of her busi?.
ness, which was so important that It
"? made her personal attention necessary.
p She was very willing to enlighten him
on that point.
MMy conscience is troubling me," Hat?
tie said. "I think I am really a very
wicked, wicked girl. But then It was so
soon after poor auntie's death, and I
could hardly think of anything. So I
just said yes to everything."
The thought of her dead aunt filled
the girl's eyes with tears. She brushed
r thsm away with her pocket handker_
chief.
Walter looked bored. What in the
world was the girl driving at? What
had she to be troubled In conscience for?
I Ho nus'ofAst.ftri that she micrht nronerlv
come to the point
y "But since I have become calmer,"
Hattie resumed, "I have been thinking
It over. I am really just like a thief and
i, a robber. What right have I to all that
money?"
Walter Jn blank astonishment stared
at the young lady who asked such an
unheard-of question. Was she crazy?
Did she really mean tD resign her fortune
in his favor? Anything might be
. expected from a silly girl with her head
stuffed full of romantic notions.
"I do not understand yoa, Hattie," he
said. ?
Miss Beckford eagerly replied: "Why,
am I not robbing poor Ralph? Does it
not all of right belong to him? I think
it is my duty to give it all to the rightf
ul owners."
Walter still stared at her, but his stare
was now expressive of indignation.
"Nonsense!" he f;xo.laimed harshly, alI
most rudely. "Who put that foolish
1 notion into your head?"
MVaKa/1w n?if {f < n f a mv VlOO.fl OnH 7
UUUUJ puv IV IUW UiJ uvuiv.) uuv. ?
don't think it Is a foolish notion. I
mean to do right," the prirl said, a little
testily, for she resented the tone in
which Walter had spoken.
"Let mo tell you that Ralph has no
more right to your money than the man
, in the moon."
"Why, Walter, is ho not your brother?
Should he not share equally with you?"
"He has been disinherited, and properly
so, by our mother, bccause he has
disgraced himself and the family."
"Walter, you should not speak thus of
> Ralph; he is your brother, whatever he
may have done."
' "Brother-or not, it served him right!
Besides," Mr. Warringham added, sneer*
ingly, "he always said he wanted to earn
his living. Now ho has a chance to
3 do so."
7 "For shame, Walter!" The girl's eyes
J flashed. "But I am resolved to restore
to him what is his due, and therefore I
? came to you."
i "Nonsense!" Walter, in his exasperai
tion, now forgot all show of politeness.
"You don't know what you are saying.
Throw away fifteen thousand a year as
f if it was nothing!"
5 "It is mine. I can do with it whatever
1 I please."
"Can you?" Walter replied with a
3 sneer. "I think not. Not for some
i time. Have you forgotten that you are
i still a minor, Hattie? Not a cent of it
can you dispose of without my consent."
f Hattie was silent for a few moments.
She knew too well that Walter spoke the
f truth.
3 "But you will surely not withhold your
r consent iu tnis case? I only mean to do
my plain duty.
1 "I will most assuredly withhold my
e consent"
j "It can be Indifferent to yon whether
I am rich or poor."
p "It would be against my duty, as your
guardian, to allow you to commit such a
preposterous folly. You are acting like
'* a child, on the spur of tho moment.
After a short time you would blamo me
for having permitted your quixotic be?
havior, and you would have a right to
hold me responsible."
Q While Walter spoko he assumed a
tremendous, fatherly dignity that looked
[- most ludicrous, considering the small
if difference in age between the two.
"I am not acting on the spur of the
n moment. I have thought it overdeliber>s
ately and come to the conclusion that I
r have no moral right to the possession of
e Ralph's fortunes."
,t "Well, you will have to carry this load
^ on your conscience as long as I have auy
authority over you."
y The girl knitted her brows. "Thanu
it God, that will not be forever." v
L Walter laughed. "After you are twen,f
ty-one years old you may Rive your
d money to whomsoever you like," he said,
^ but added in his thoughts: "You will
i- have changed your mind by that time, or
e if not, I will find means to change it"
h Hattie Beckford stayed in the city only
a few days. She called on a few friends.
y. and once met Jack Spofford on the street,
t She had not seen him since the funeral
a of Mrs. Warringham.
,e Jack had been of exceeding service to
,her during the dark time after that fatew
ful day in September. In the tremendd
ous grief over her dead aunt she had
d forgotten the embarrassment which the
n afternoon's conversation might have
e cast over their future intercourse The
matter had never since beeu alluded to.
e Jack's delicacy would not allow him to
n pres3 his suit while she was in mourning.
But they corresponded diligently.
r. and every line of his letters testified to
e *??<? love h* felt for her, although he
never spoKo or it. tie was overjoyed
when he met her on the street.
As for her, she felt a sincere, friendly
regard for the generous fellow. But
J marrying him! She would not think oi
;* it She was resolved to remain uu'*
married for life. Her love belonged to
? one who was far away, and could never
be hers. For bim she was resolved tc
sacrifice even what most people sacrifice
everything else to obtain. She would
? only reserve enough for herself to lead
? a modest lifo in quiet retirement
d
|, CHAPTER XIL
>r WAS IT A. CRIME?
i- ITattle Bockford was somewhat disapy
pointed to find Walter so stubbornly opd
posed to her restoring the money which
she thought rightfully belonged to
is Ralph. But she was not willing to give
te up hor plan now, if she could help it
She would wait till she had attained her
7 majority
h The matter was on her mind continuala
ly, yet for a long time she was not able t-o
id find a way of getting the money into her
ig hands. After all, she would probably
have to wait three years.
j- Then she happened to be in the city,
d when she learned Walter had that day
1, deposited a very large sum of cash, nearly
ly a hundred thousand dollar?, which
3 had boon rca.ized by the sale of sumo
I
landed property, In one of the city banks, s
It struck her at once that shq ought to o
? i- - :? :? ? ~~~~ T4. *?^..1*)
jfiiin pui>sess;wu ui ui: ujuuc;. m wuuiu
go pretty far toward redressing a c
wrong which she felt she was, though )i
against her will, committing. S
But how? o
A plan suggested itself to her. the
thought of which threw her into violent a
excitement.
She brooded over it for hours. She P
took a long walk in the city and through Cl
the park, thinking it over. Her face P
was Hushed, as if all the blood in her
body was pressing into her cheeks. Her r(
temples throbbed as if the veins would ^
burst. Her heart was beating so that n
she thought she could hear it strike 11
against her ribs.
Hattie struggled violently to get rid oi b
the harassing idea, but she could not do v
It She must think of It,
It was feasible. No doubt about It.
But action must be quick.
What would it amount to, after all'
A small wrong dono to prevent a greater
one.
And was not the money hers by law?
But it was wrong! It was even 3
crime ociore iqu law. iiiiu ueurcuuu
must follow soon. tl
No Detection would follow, but no o
body would know about it but Waller. ?
He would not make it public?of course 5
not. Nobody would be injured by it but f.
herself. g
How sweet the thought to be able to
tell him she loved: "This I have risked
fqr you, for I would not see you
wronged."
This would be a real sacrifice, far more ^
than giving up the worthless lucre which J
she did not need. j
Love is never happier than when mak- s
Lng sacrifices, t
Yes, she would risk it! d
A firm resolution established itse'f in n
her mind- AquietcaJm camo over her ?
after the intense excitement She would t
need all her coolness and self-command.
Hattie Beckford went back to the
hotel and inquired whether her brother j
was in. No, he was gone out. Then ^
she asked for the key to his room. She i
would there wait for him. The clerk a
knew her and readily complied. t
She was in ner brother's room. Where I
could he keep what she wanted? There 1
was no desk in the room. In one of 0
IUUM3 uureau uiawcia, j:u uuuuu, ^uu ^
they were locked. Ah. this hotel furni- t
ture is so poorly made, almost any key i
will fit a
She fumbled in her pocket for a bunch I
of keys. This one must fit. Ah, yes, Jadmirably!
J
Her hand trembled a little as sho ?
turned the key and opened the drawer. t
Hattie Beckford opening another's draw- c
er in order to abstract something from E
it! "
But this was no time for hesitation or *
conscientious scruples! With an effort of Jj
her wlll_she steadied her hand. ?
Here lay what she was looking foT? y
Walter's checkbook. Hastily sho tore
off a few of the blanks and put them in
her pocket. Then she locked the drawer
and left the room. , o
In her own room she found a letter of ft
Walter's. She looked at the signature, p
She had always been good at copying ?
drawings. That would serve her in good r<
stead now. g
The first attempt did not succeed very tl
well. But she tried again and again, u
and, after having practiced for five min- i
utes, she could write the name of "Wal- tl
ter H. Warringbam" so that nobody h
would distinguish it from the original. I
Then she filled out one of the blank P
checks: "
------ - V(
"Pay to Miss Hattie Bcckford or order (i
S90.000." a
Now came the most hazardous part of e<
her undertaking. d
Providing herself with a strong ieath- u
ern hand-sachcl, she went boldly into ?'
the bank office. It was nearly the hour ?
of closing. sj
With a tremendous effort of will sho o
restrained her excitement when she ?
handed the chock to the paying teller.
The teller knew her well. Ho also
knew that Waiter had deposited so large
? ?? n 1 r\ fA A f A m
a SUIU Uliiy jji~u v jsiuiiai jr, >u uivtti ms s|
presently employ it otherwise. Ho was v
therefore not particularly suprisod at
seeina: the younjr lady call with a check
for so great an amount. He counted jl
out the money in bank-notes and groen- w
backs ot high denominations, arranged ft
it for her in the sachel, and Hattio was u
gone. a
Half an hour later she was on the p
train en route to New York, where she r'
meant to take passage for Germany, in 11
order to personally deliver the money to j1
him whom she thought to be its rightful
owner. ' v
Her plan had succeeded admirably so o
far. But when the pressing necessity 1
of appearing unconcerned relaxed, her v
nervous system broke down. As she sat ^
in tho railway carriage she could no tl
longer prevent an outbreak of ncrv- ?
ous weeping, much as she tried ^
to conceal her tears from the tl
other passengers. Fortunately there a
were but few passengers in the car. and h
they seemed too preoccupied with thoir a
own affairs to pay attention to the P
young lady, who was burying her faco a
in hsr pocket-handkerchief. Besides, j]
she was still in deep mourning, the v
best apparent reason for her evident ^
distress, and the best protection against b
obtrusive curiosity.
llattie thought over what she had b
done! Forged her cousin's name to a 0
chock! She was a criminal then, and *
would be sent to the penitentiary! *
The young girl shuddered. h
But no! It was not so! She Had only
taken what belonged to her, and she t!
was going to do 14 ?duty de- ti
manaea. Besides, she naa little to fear. P
The forgery could not possibiy be de- S
tected until to-morrow, perhaps not n
then, net even for several days. By ?
that time she woul? be on the high sea. c
And would Walter prosecute his own n
cousin? Surely not. b
2s'o! She had nothing to fear, and she i:
had done quite right
Then she began thinking of Ralph,
and how thankful he must be to her.
Ah, how sweet to think that if ho did 1
net love her with the love she felt for
him. he must at least bo thankful to her. t
And she felt proud of what she had 1
dono!
The train sped onward through the b
night toward the sea-board, where tho i!
steamer was await'ng her.
Soon she would see Ralph- n
v\Ya tor Warringham was in a fine rage a
when he learned what his cousin had
done. . J1
Ninety thousand dollars gone! Who ~
would have thought that the silly girl
would be capable of such a rascally piece .
of business? ? c!
At the same time, he could not help t,
adm;rincr the boldness of the scheme.
Ninety thousand dollars! There was p
nothing small about that jirl ti
Mr. Warrintrham was probably vague- 'i
ly conscious that he would tako such a
sum wherever he could get it, and no b
Questions asked. But ho would prob- JJ
ably lack the nerve to get it in this man*
ner.
His first impulse was. naturally, to ?
have the forger pursued and prosecuted, i
but he thought better of it. . w
Having pledged this Lank officials to
strict silence, he resolved to drop not a ei
word about it a
In the first place, such a course would tl
prevent a public scandal. And Walter P
did not like scandals; they interfered a
with his comfort.
Secondly, Hattio was a very silly girl, w
after all. She had ninety thousand dol
lars. to be sure, But by far the largest !*
i part of her fortune was still in his 1 a]
hand.Sj and he was deterjsined that^ it
ne wouia sureiy ue careiui 10 Keep out
f the way.
So he was the winner In that game,
fter all.
Mr. Walter Warringham's rage was
one. On the contrary, he was in a more
ontented mood than for a long time
ast.
The waiter at the club stared when he
sceived a whole dollar as a fee from Mr. !
yarringham that night. That gentle- i
lan had never yet been known to give |
tore than a quarter.
The waiter took the dollar, and
rushed Walter's coat with especial deotion.
But he could not explain it.
Walter himself could.
[to be continued.]
TEMPERANCE.
the most dangebous britians.
It is our observation that beer drinkin? In
lis country produces the very lowest lei ad
f inebriety, closely allied to criminal ininity.
The most dangerous class of rufans
in our large cities arc beer drinkers,
iecourse to beer as a substitute for other
jrms of alcohol merely increases the daner
and fatality.? Scientific American.
prohibition at harvard.
It is announced that the Harvard College
acuity have issued an edict prohibiting
lunches or distilled liquors in any college
oom on class or commencement days.
!very tenant of the college will be held reponsible
for the observation of this rule in
tis own room. It is understood that the
lisgraceful state of things on commencement
day last year prompted this preventa*
Ive action on the part of the Harvard aahoritiea.?National
Advocate.
A stoby of two glasses.
mere was once n jnu vruv was voijr mu*.
ndeed. The doctor brought him a little j.
;lass fall of ufl;ly looking medicine. Itsmelled _
>ad and tasted worse, and the lad struggled c
ind screamed and pushed it away and tried j
o spill it. He said he was afraid to take it. j
le believed it was poison. At last they held t
tim and forced him to swallow the medicine j
ind it cured him. ^
The same lad a few yeare afterward wa9 j
pith a lot of his comrades, and they got him B
o go into a saloon. One of them' set before c
tim a little glass of wine. It looked good, ^
ind it smelled good, but the lad shrank back,
le had heard what wine would do to his _
ody. and his brain, and his sou', an i he ?
lesitated. "Huh! You're afraid !" sneered j]
>ne of the boys standing near. "Who's j,
iraidV'' asked our lad, and he snatched up j,
he glass, drinking all the wine. Then ho 0
ailed for another glass to show how he was c
tot afraid. c
The other day this boy. who was afraid of u
he little glass of black, healing medicine, j
mt was not afraid of the little glass of red, ^
[eadly wine, died in a terrible way and wa= ^
uried in a drunkard's grave. Oi which wiij j
ou be afraid??Golden Rule. t,
THE CAPTAIN'S STORY. Jj
A sea captain was urged to drink a glass v
f wine with a friend, but he politely re- C
" nnirl flia li f am cur. n
15CU. u U* , 9UIU bUC UIVMM, * IIIM
rised to find" a sea captain refusing wine, tl
thought they were all good liver?, and fi
jady to drink with a friend at any timo for ii
oodfellowship.'' r
'Well. yes. a great many men who follow b
le sea do like a glass now aud then, and I t
sed to. but it broueht me to grief. and now ti
would not take wine or brandy any sooner 11
inn I would poison. I will toll you how 1 1]
appened to change my habits : Years ago ti
left nay ship at Newport with a few com- c
anions and went on shorn for i carouse, fi
Te had it. and I left the saloon to join the g
essel, which lay alongside the dock. In my
runken imbecility I fell between the vessel ij
nd the dock, and had I not been caught by
jm? of the gearing I should have been r
rowned. As I crept in'o my hammock that v,
ight I made a resolution never to touch al- c
Dhollc drink again. That resolution I have li
opt up to now, and mean to keep ns long C
s I am able. I have crossed the ocean n
Ixtv-two times without evor tasting a drop c
f liquor of anv sort, and I ambettei oil I
very way without it." o
o
THE DANGER 8I0NA.L. 0
Whoever findsthe desire of drinking ardent ^
pirits returning daily at stated times, is 8
arned to deny himself instantly, if he ill- P
>nds to escape confirmed intemperance. $
It is infallible evidence that you have ll
[ready done violence to nature?that the un- .
ermining process is begun?that the over- r(
-orked organ begins to flag, and cry out for ?
dventitious aid. with an importunity which, a
' * ? J -1 1 mnrfl ^aon.tAnoH '
I UUUI^CUi YV 111 MCWUUiv UW|/-?VMV?|
ml importunate, and irresistible, until tho J1
ower of self-denial is cone, and you are a
ained man. It is the vortex begun, which, A
! not checked, will become more capacious, J3
nd deep, and powerful, and loud, until the :
iterests of time and eternity are entjulfed. ;
It is here then?beside this commencing 1
ortex?that I would take my stand, to ward v
ff the heedless navigator from destruction. ?
'o all who do but heave In sight, and with ^
oice that should rise above the winds and
raves. I would cry?i:stand off!!!"?-spread ?
lie sail, ply the oars, for death is here, and
ould I command the elements the blackness .
f darkness should gather over this gate- J
ray to hell?and loud thunders should utter *
heir voices?and lurid fires should blaze? ?
nd the groans of unearthly voices should be *
eard?inspiring constellation and flight in h
11 who came near. For this is the parting P
oint between the wise who forsake danger '
nd hide themselves and the foolish who *
ass on and are puuished. He who escapes a
bis periodical thirst of times and seasons a
rill not be a drunkard, ns he who, comes 8
rithin reach of this powerful attraction will P
e sure to perish.
It may not be cortain that every one will o
ccome a sot: but it is certain that every
ne will enfeeble hi3 body, generate disease t<
nd shorten his days. It may not be certain 1'
hat everyone will sacrifice his reputation or a
quander bis property and die in the alms- '
ouse; but it is certain that a large propor- v
Ion will come to poverty and infamy, of a
hose who yield daily to the periodical appe- 0
ite for ardent spirits. Here is the stopping n
lace, and though beyond it men may strug- t
:le and retard ana moany rneir progress,
one, comparatively.who go by it will return
gain to purity of enjoyment and the sweets
f temperate liberty. The servant has beome
the master, and with a rod of iron and
whip of scorpions he will torment, even
efore their time, the candidates for misery
n a future state?Dr. L. Beecher.
TEMPEBAKCB SEWS AXD NOTES.
The drink bills of the United States for
892 has been estimated at $1,014,894,304.
Angels can tell how much righteousness
bere is in a nation by the way it deals with
he liquor traffic.
Five million dollars for religion and twelva
iundrod million dollars for alcoholic drinks
3 not a fair distribution.
In Liverpool recently 159 temperance ser30os
wore preached oa wnat was observed
s ''Temperance Sunday."
Driuk baffles us, confounds us, shames us
nd mocks ns at every point; the publlcouse
holds its triumpnaut course.?London
'imes.
Pauper lunacy in Scotland, says Hr. Walicc.
Inspector of Poor for Co van. has inTensed
very considerably during the past
tventy Years.
Timothy Hogan, who diel recently at
'oole, Ireland, in his ninety-second year,
3ok the pledge Jrom Father Mat hew an l
ever broke it.
The British Army Temperance Association
as this year a Government grant of ?2309.
rliich is iuciudu.l in the army estimates, to
elp defray its working expanses.
When will the times get better? After the
eople make an improvement on the matter
f drinking. In 1393, 33,9)0.009 barrels of
eer were consumed and 57.533,113 gallons of
'hisky.
The constant use of alcohol, oven in mo 1rate
measure. may injure the nerve lissil"*
nd be deleterious to the health, and one of
le commonest things in society is that peole
are injured by drink without heing
ruukards.?.Sir William Gull, AT. J>.
Drunkenness causeth woes and mischief,
ounds and sorrows, sin and shame. I;
laketh bitterness of spirit, brawling an t
uarrellng. It increases rage an 1 ;oss "uetli
rength. It maketh red eyes an 1 a icose
ad oabbling tongue.?Jeremy Taylor. *!
bould remain there, not for three years
nly but forever.
What could Hattle do aboutit? If she
ame forward to claim it, she would bo
able to be arrestei and sent to prison.
KEV. DR. TALMAGE.
WTIP nrj/^rvTrr trv TM^ttvtcio CTT%t__
A, il U J3AV/V1VU 1 1/1 V 111 -tU* O OUil"
DAY SERMON.
Subject: "A Cheerful Church.*
Text: "Behold, thou ait fair, my love."
?Solomon's Song iv.. 1.
"Higher criticism" says that this book of
3olomon's song is a love scene, a forlorn
maiden sighing for her beau. If so, it is an
inclean and debauched utterance inserted
In the pure word of God and is not fit for
:ommon reading. My opinion is that it is an
Inspired ode setting forth the feeling of
Dhrist toward the church and of the chursh
oward Christ. Christ is the bridegroom,
and the church is the bride. The same
pvords we can utterto-day truthfully, whether
In regard to the church of God in general or
his church in particular, "Behold, thou art
[air, my love."
The past week has been one of prolonged
congratulation for that we have for twentyIve
years been permitted to associate with
;ach other in the relation of pastor andpeo)le.
*^en I came to Brooklyn, I found a
imiifj bond of Christian disciples who from
rarious causes had become less and less until
bey stood upon the very verge of extinction
is a church, and the question was being
igitatod from time to time whether it would
)6 possible to maintain a church life longer,
indeed, had not those men and women been
:onsecrated and earnest, they would have
urrendered to the adverse circumstances,
fhey marshaled a congregational meeting,
ind gathering up all the forces possible they
ast nineteen votes for a p&stor, all of which
! am happy to have received.
It was not through any spirit of personal
ourage or reckless adventure that I was led
rom one of the warmest and most congenial
astorates in Philadelphia that a man ever
njoyed to this then most uninviting field,
tut it was the feeling that God had called me
o the work, ana I was sure lie would see me
hrougb.
1 have thought that it might be profitable
o us to state briefly what kind of a chnrch
re have been trying to establish.
In the first place, I remark that we have
>een trying to build here a Christian church
-distinctively such?in other words, a
burch where we should preach the Lord
'esus Christ and Him crucified. Mytheology
s all gone into five letters?Jesus. Jesus,
he pardon of all offenses. Jesus, the
oundation for all structures. Jesu9, the
>alm for all wounds. Jesus, the eye salve
or all blindness. Jesus, the guide through
ill perplexities. Jesus, the hope for all disouragements.
Jesus, the reform for all
rrongs.
I have faith to believe that there is more
ower in one drop of the blood of Jesus
Christ to cure the woes of the world than
a an ocean full of human quackery. Jesus
s the grandest note in any minstrelsy. He
3 the brightest gem in any crown; height
vertopping all height; the centre of every
ircumference, the circumference to every
entre; the pacifier of all turbulence; the
impire of all disputes. Jesus, Jesus! At
lis table all nations ara to sit. Around His
krone all worlds are to revolve. He is to
e the Irradiation of the universe. Jesus,
esus! It is that truth that we have tried
o preach in this Tabernacle.
Do you ask more minutelv what we beieveV
I can tell you. We have no dry,
withered, juiceless theology. We believe in
}od, the Father Almighty, maker of heaven
nd earth, the deliverer of the distressed,
Lo home for the homeless, the friend for the
riendless. We believ9 in Jesu3 Christ, able
o save to the uttermost, pardoning the
Uilty, imputing His righteousness to the
eliever. We believe in the Holy Ghost,
he comforter, the sanctifler, cheering up
he heart in life's ills and kindling bright
Ights in every dark landing place. We beieve
that the whole race is so sunken in sin
hat nothing but the omnipotent arm of God
an ever lift it out. We believe in grace?
ree grace, sovereign grace, triumphant
race, eternal grace. We believe in a Bible
-;iuiueuuu iu us situewtrms, imuiiiuuwuo
a its teachings, glorious in its promises.
We believe iu heaven, the abode of the
Ighteous, and in hell, the residence of {hose
rho are soul suicides?of tfceir own free
hoice refusing the divine mercy. We beieve
In the salvation of all men who accept
Jhrist by faith, be they sprinkled or imlersed,
worship they in cathedral or in log
abin, believe they in Presbyterianism or
Ipiscopacy. dwell they under Italian skies
r in Siberian snowstorms, be they Ethiopian
r American. All one in Christ. One Lord,
ne faith, one baptism, on the way to heaven.
Ve built this Tabi;rnrcle for the purpose of
etting forth these great theories of the gosel
of the Son of God. Would that we had
een more faithful in the pulpit! Would
bat we hod been more faithful in the pew!
I remark, further, that we have tried here
o build a church distinctively unconvenional.
Instead of asking, as some people
re disposed to do, how other people do it,
7? have asked the question how people do
iot do it. Imperious custom has decided
hat churches shall be angular, cheerless,
'lnnmv nncrmniifhpMr> fnrc'ntMnc what
nea call a pious gloom is impious, and that
hat church has the best architecture where
he people are the most comfortable, and
hat that is the most efficient Christian serice
where the people are made most sick of
in and most anxious after Christ and heaven,
aid so we called the architects together for
iur first church building and said "Give us
n amphitheater"?that is, a large family
ircle, gathered around a fireplace.
For many years we had felt that an amphlheater
was the only proper shape for an
udienoe room. The prominent architects
f the country said: "It cannot be done.
rou need a church building." And so we
iad plan after plan of churchly buildings
iresented. but in due time God sent a man
rho grasped our idea and executed it. So
ar from being a failure, it satisfied our want,
nd all our three churches were built on the
mphitheatrical plan, and scores of churches
11 over the country have adopted the same
>lan.
And, my brethren and sisters, we fail in
ur work just in proportion a3 we try to be
Ike other churches. We believe that God inended
every church, like every man, to be
ndlvldual, gathering up all its peculiarities
nd idiosyncracies and hurling them all toward
some good and grand object. In other
rords, no two churches ought ever to be just
like. Here is a church, for instance, whose
V j..in mwnnoma *vVi<1aoat\Kuro on/3 orticfQ
'UJCUl 13 IV j/Uiivov/|/uvii) ?**v. iMkwtw
nd critics for heaven. God speed them in
he difficult work! Here is a church, on the
ither hand, that proposes to bring only the
loor into the kingdom of Jesus Christ, lookug
not after the rich. God speed such a
hurch in its undertaking ! But there is a
arger idea that a church may take?bringing
n the rich and the poor, the wise and the
gnorant, the high and the low. so that knselng
beside each othershall be the man faring
uraptuously every day and the man who
;ouid not set his breaktast. God speed such
ichurch!
Oh, my friends, we need to break away
rom slavery to ecclesiastical custom. We
lare not sing if anybody hears us. We dare
lot preach unless wo have rounded off our
entences to suit the criticism of the world.
iVe dare not dress for church until we have
ixamined the fashion plates and would rather
'tny at home than appear with & coat or a
Jat not sanctioned by o jstom. When vrill
he day of deliverance come to the church of
jod, when, instead of a dead religion laid
>ut in stato on a catafalque of pomp and inlincerity,
we shall have a living, bounding,
iympathetic, glowing Christianity?
I remark, further, that we have tried here
o build and to conduct a cheerful flhurch.
iVhile, as you know, we have not held back
he terrors of the law and the sterner doorines
of the gospel, we have tried in this
louse to present to this people the idea that
he gladdest, brightest, happiest thing in all
ho universe is the Christian religion. There
s so much trouble in the world. Business
nen have so many anxieties. Toiling men
lave so many fatigues. Orphans have so
nany desolations. For God's sake, if there
w? any bright place on earth, show it to them!
jet the church of .Tfsus Christ be the most
iheerful spot on earth.
Let me sny that I do not want anrbo ly to
'ome whining around me about the Christian
'elision. I have no faith in a religion made
ip of equal parts of wormwood, vineg.r and
ed pepper. If the religion that is presented
o us be a depression, we will get along
letter without it. If it be a joy, let it shine
mt from your face and from your conversaion.
If a man comes to my house to talk of
eligion with lucrubr/ous countenance and
manner run ot sniffle and dolorousness, I
sel like saying to mv wife, "You had better
Dck up the sliver before he steals som9liing."
I have found it an invariable rule
hat men who pi-ofpss faith in the Lord
esus Christ, priding themselves at the same
ime on their i.mctimoniousnass. alwavs
I
tarn oat badly?I never knew an exception
?while those who are the most consistent,
the most nseful and the most consecrated
have perfume in their conversation and
heaven in their face.
The happiest Christians that I have ever
known have beenpersons from sixty to eighty
years of age. By that time people eet over
the shams and the pretenses of society and
have no longer any patience with anything
like Imposture in rolieion. 0 Christian, how
nare you be gloomy? Is not God yout Father?
ra ?Af Tamih /~?Vn _ n I n rt a.
lj uul uraus ^uriai juur ou.viou.rr naa not
your path all through life been strewn with
mercies? Are you insensible to the fact that
there ere glories awaitincr you in the better
land?doxologles of celestial worship, eternal
3horals, tearless eyes, songs that resound
under arches cf strength and hosannasthat
olap their hands at the foot of the throne?
Is it nothing to you that all the hills of
heaven are radiant with the faces of those
who have gone up from you and who are waiting
for your coming, ready to keep with you
eternal holiday? Is there nothing in song3
that never cease, in hearts that never ache,
In splendors that never die, to make you
glad? Then take no more mercy at the hand
of thy God! Give back the marriage rlna; of
love that Jesus put on your finger intheday
of your espousal! Plant no more of the
flowers of heaven where there ought to be
nothing but nettles and nightshade!
We try to make this church a cheerful
church. A man on Saturday afternoon
stands in his store and says "How shall I
meet these obligations? How can I endure
this new disaster that is coming upon me?"
He goes home. Sabbath morning finds him
in the house of God. Through the song,
through the sormon, through the prayer, the
Lord Jesus Christ says to that man: "O
man, I have watohed thee. I have seen all
thy straggles. It is enough. I will see thee
through. I will stand between thee and thy
creditors. I will make up in heavenly
treasures what you have lost in earthly
treasures. Courage, man, courage! Angels
of God, I command you to clear the track
for that man: put vour wines over his head:
with your golden scepters strike for his defense
; throw around nim all the defenses of
eternity." What is the consequence? That
business man is strengthened. He goes to
the store next day feeling that God is with
him and ready to deliver.
That same Sunday there is a poor old woman
in the churoh hearing the gospeL Oh,
how shrunken she la! She wears the same
dress she wore twenty years ago. How faded
it Is and now out of date! She sits and listens
as well as she can. Her eyes are so dim she
cannot see half way across the 'church. Her
ear Is so imperfect that she can only catoh
occasionally a note of the psalm or a word
ot tne preacher. Some one sitting next to .
her gives her a book and finds the place for
her. She says, "Thank you, miss; thank
you." She holds the book close up to her
eyes and with a voloe all full oi tremors
sings:
Je;u3, lover of my soul,
Lit me to Thy bosom fly
wlille the billows uear m? roll,
Walle the tempest se ll U hljtv.
Side me, 0 my S ivlour, hide,
Till the storm of lite 1? past.
Safe Into the heaven guide? Oh,
rece.ve my soul at la?t.
And Jesus says to her, "Mother. a?a you
weary?" And she says, "Yes, Jesus, I am
very tired." Jesu3 says, "Mother, are you
poor?" And she says: "Yes. I am very
poor. I cannot sew any more. I cannot
knit any more. I am very poor." Jesu3
says to her. "Mother, would you like to
rest?" She says, "Yes. Lord; that is what
I want?rest." "Courage, mother," says
Jesus. "I will see thee through."
3he goes home." The next morning in the
tenement house some one dwelling on
another floor comcsto her room and knocks.
No answer. The door is opened. She is
dead! The night before the chariots of God
halted at that pillow of straw, and Jesus
kept His promise. He said that He would
give her rest, and He has given her rest.
Glory be to God for the height, the depth,
the length and the breadth of such Christian
comfort! Oh, that we might have such joy
as that which Inspired the men at the battle
of Leuthen! They were singing a Christian
song as they went into battle. A general
said to the king. "Shall I stop those people
singing?" "No," said the king. "Men that
sing like that can flght." I would that we
had a singing church, a joyful church, a jubilant
church, a comiorting church, for then
we would have u triumphant church.
I remark, further, that we have here tried
to build a church abreast of the times. It Is
all folly for us to try to do thinsrs the way
they did fifty or 100 years as;o. We might as |
Kn .Irk-nHnf* Tt7ifH 1?!Hiu.h'a prnntpri I
ntuwyivnu, j ,
or go into battle with Saul's armor, or prefer
a ciinalboat to an express train, as to be
clinging to old thiogs. What we most need
now is a wide awake churcb. People who
are out in the world all the week, jostling
against this lightning footed century, come
into the church on the Sabbath and go right
to sleep unless they have a spirited service.
Men engaged in literary callings all the
week, reading pungent, sharp writings, cannot
be expected to come and hear our ecclesiastical
humdrum.
If a man stay at home on Sunday and
roads the newspapers, it is because thtrhewspapers
are more interesting. We need, my
brethren, to rouse up and stop hunting with
blank cartridges. The church of God ought
to be the leader, the interpeter, the Insurer
of the age. It is all folly for us to be discussing
old issues?arraigning Nero, hanging
Absalom, striking the Philistines with
Shamgar's ox goad?when all around about
us are iniquities to be slain.
Did I say that the church ought to be
abreast of the times? I take that back. The
church of God ought to be ahead of thetimes
?as far in advance ar the cross of Christ Is
ahead of all human invention. Paul was
1000 years ahead of the day in which he
lived. The swift footed years that have i
passed slnco Luther died have not yet come I
up to Luther's grave. Give iniquity 4000
years the start, and the feet of Christianity
are sonlmoie mat 11 you wrn uui kivo u mu
swing It will catch up nnd pass it in two
bounds. The church of God ought to be
ahead of the times.
I remark, further, that we have tried here,
in the love and fear of God, to build a church
that would be characterized by conversions.
I have heard of very good people who could
preach on for fifteen or twenty years and see
no conversions, but yet have faith. It takes
a very good man to do that. I do not know
how a man can keep his faith up if souls are
not brought to the Lord Jesus Christ. That
church that does not bring men and women
to the feet of the Saviour is a failure. I care
not how fine the building, or how sweet the
music, or hew eloquent the preaching, or
how elegant the surroundings?it is a failure.
The church of God was made for just one
thing?to get men out of the world into the
kingdom of heaven.
The tendency in churches is to spend their
tim6 In giving fine touches to Christians
already polished. We keep our religion too
much indoors and under shelter, when it
ought to be climbinsr the rocks or hewing in
the forests. Then It would be a stalwart religion,
a robust religion, a religion able to
the strone meat of the word, instead
of being kept on the pap and gruel of spiritual
invalidism. It is high time that we
threw off the Sunday clothes of sickly sentimentality
and put on the working dress of
an earnest, active Christianity.
Here is Brooklyn, here is New York, here
are the United States, hero is the whole
?rorld to be con'#rted. It is 1894 years
since Christ camp, nnd yet Europe. Asia,
Africa. North and South America are stiL I
unevangelized. More people born e very yeai
into the world than aro born into the kingdom
of God. At that rate I ask anyone whe
can do a simple sura in arithmetic to calculate
when this world will be brought to
Jesus. At that rate, never, never, never!
And yet we know that it is to be brought to
Christ. But the church will have to change
it? tact an.l take a wider sweep with the gospel
net than it lias yet taken. I believe that
the sreat mass of the people are now ready \
to receive the gospel if we give them a 1
chance.
A boy coes along the street at night and
sops a fine house beautifully lighted up and
hears music, and he says. "I wish I was in '
there, but I hav*? not been invite I," so
he passes on. Here is the church of Got,
lighted up with festivity and holy mirth, and
the world passes alone outside, hears the
music and sometimes wishes it was inside,
but says that it is not invited. Oh, invite the
world to come in ! Go out into the highways
and hedges. Send a ticket of invitation
printed in these words, ''Come, for all things
are now ready."
Some years ago 200 men were buried in the
Hartley colliery of England. The Queen of
England from her throne telegraphed. "Is
there any hope for the men?" After awhile
the answer came over the wires: ''No hope.
They are dead." Here is a whole race buried
in sin and darkness and woo. The question
that thrills up to the throne of God to- lay
is. "Is there any hope for the m'enV" Answering
intelligence comes back from the throne
of God, thrilling through the world's darkness,
thrilling through the world's woe:
- , v -' -7- "v j
'Yes. Hope for one, hope for all! Whosoever
will let him come. And the spirit and
the bride says, 'Come.1 And let him that i?
athirst come."
We have had conventions all over the
country discussing the subject, "How Shall
the Great Masses be Brought to Christ?"
They have passed splendid resolutions at th? ,
close of the meeting?a long list of eight, ten
or fifteen have been read, and then the presiding
officer has said, "All those in favor of
the resolution for the conversion of th? .
world, purifying the cities and redeeming the
masses and makins everything all right say
aye." "Aye, aye!" say a thousand voices.
"All opposed?no." "The ayes have it."
There, the whole world is converted! Ah,
we do not seem to get along by soch a process.
If this world is ever to be brought to God,
It will not be by the handful of ministers w?
have In this country. It will be by the great
masses of Christian men and women discharging
their duty. If the private church
membership of thl3 country would put on
their armor and go forth, I believe that in
fifteen years the whole land would be redeemed
for Chriit. Would God thaj all th?
people were prophets! Iam never afraid to
near a man say that he is going to preach.
If he cannot preach, tieople will not go to
hear him. It he can. he has a message from
the Almighty, and I would have him deliver
it. Look out how you interfere with him.
Since we have been together as pastor and
"mnln liATTT mnnw hnifa hnnn nr/tmntoH tn
glories of heaven? They died sweetly,
calmly, as only Christians can die. They
have put down the staff of their pilgrimage.
They nave taken up the palm of the victor.
The Lord Jesus has swung His arm through
this church a good many times. He has
been up and down all these aisles. He has
taken the little children?the dear little
children. He came down into the garden tt>
gather the lilies and the aged as well. Ons
who sat right here, so that when I used to
preach I could almost put .my hand on his
head, when I came baclc from my sutnafep
vacation was gone. Oh, how the glories of
heaven shone around that old man's face as
he sat nere Sabbath after Sabbath! Gone
now. Happy spirit Happy with all those
who have passed the flood.
One army of the !l*In? GodTo
Hu coramaad we bow,
Part of the host nave crossed tha flood.
And part are croialu; now.
I thank you for all your kindness, for all
your sympathy, for all your prayers for me '
as pastor. It is a sorrow to me that I ant
to ue rtuseni evcu lur t% icw uiuump. a uavo
worked to the fall extent of physical, mental
and spiritual endurance for this churah.
Now we start out onourtwenty-slxthyear.
How many of us will close it here I know
not. But. living or dying, let us olin< to
Christ Oh, that all the people would lav?
Him' I wish that I could take this ?udtenoe
this morning and wreath it around the heart
of my Lord Jesus Christ! Oh, He is such a
dear Saviour! He is such a loving Je5U3?
He is so precious! He is all the world to cue.
He is heaven to me. H^ washed away my
sins. He comforted me in days of dartness
and trouble. Heismlns. Oh, blessed J?M?!
Sweetest sound I ever heard or ever expaot
to hear is Thy name!
My dosing prayer this morning is that
God will have "mercy on the dying population
of our great cities, an! that the wjoIs
earth will put on bridal array for the coming
of the Lord. Bide oa, Kins Jesus ; ride on I
Blessed be tbe Lori God of Israel, from
everlasting to everlasting, and let the whole
earth be filled with His glory! Aom and
amen!
CROP REPORT,"
The Condition of Winter Wheat, Barley
and Other Products.
The May report of the statisticians of the
Department of Agriculture places the condition
of winter wheat at 8L4. as againsl
ft r? r* a folUno rtff
00. I IUB JJ[~I)V1UU3 U1UUIU, uvmj u mnu.;, VM ___
of 5^3 points. In 1893, at the same date, the HI
condition was 75.5, a little over two points Ha
lower than the previous month. The aver- H
ages lor the principal States ore: Ohio, I
90 ; Michigan. 83; Indiana, 90; Illinois, 89 H
Missouri, 83 : Kansas, 75; Nebraska, 59, ana Dj
California, 52. Winter rye, like wintei
wheat, has suffered a decline sinoe lost H
month, the average lor May 1 be ins 90.7,
ntrainst 91.1 in April. The averages for the
principal rye Stares are: New York, 95; New H|
Jersey, 93 ; Michigan, 91: Pennsylvania, 90.
The average condition of barley is 6&3, B|
against 86.6 last year. The low condition is
the result of the drought in California, it H|
being the largest producing State. Bg
The condition of spring pasture is 92.7 : of |H
mowing lands, 91.7. The proportion ol MB
6pring plowing done May 1 is reported at
83.5 per cent.,against 73.4 per cent, last yea*
at same date. ffB
The cotton report for the month of May
relates to the progress of cotton planting B
and contemplated acreage. The proportion
of the proposed breadth already planted on Hg
May 1 was 81,6 per cent., against 85.3 per
cent, last year, which is a little over 4 Dj
points lower than the amount usually HQ
planted at that date. Tho reported Jndications
point to an acrcage of 1.9 per cent.
less than last year.
A MATBICIDE. I
The Terrible Double Crime of a De~ Hi
spondent New Yorker. Hh
Cnarlea Samsmuller, a shadernaker, who
lived with his mother, Lena Samsmuller. at
641 East Twelfth street, Now York City, pgf
killed his mother a few nights ago. Then he
killed himself. She was more t&an ninety
years old. He was fifty. ^H
They had lived together in East Twelfth
street about nine years. Charles was to all K9j
appearances devoted to his mother, as she HH
was to him. He had been out of work for HI
some time, but he had money in the bank
and there was money In the house. So far Bj
as could be learned, there was no excuse for HI
the crime. He probably was despondent be- ^9
cause he was out of work, and was not content
to die alon?.
Mrs. Samsmuller was weak from age, and
she had not been out of her house for more
than a year. Her apartments were on the
second floor of the rear frame tenement. HH
She was so feeble at times that she w:isn*t HH
able to get around to do her housework, and Km
then she would send into Mrs. AnnieBolen, ^H|
the housekeeper, and Mm. Bolen would
clean up and do the cooking for her. ShoHH
*** ,a ?rvov fr\r mmm
did 11 WliJlll&lJ UUU tlibuvui 1"V }
Samsmuller was a kind-hearted old woman, HB
and everycody In the neighborhood liked
m
BRAZIL'S DEFIANCE. H
The Portuguese Minister in Rio Giveo^Hfl
His Passport. HH
Information has been received from Hio^Hm
Janeiro, Brazil, that Minister Paraty, Por-HH
tugal's representative at the Brazilian capi-^HH
tal, received his passports from Presidential
Pfixoto's Government. Brazil also with-^HH
draws its Legation from Lisbon, Portugal.
The grounds on which the Brazilian Gov-^HH[
prnment bases its action in causing the rup-^^H
tura between the two Powers are the Portu-H|H
guese interference in the Brazilian revolu-^HH
tion r.nd the general unfriendly attitude of^^H
the European country toward the South^^B
American Republic. HH
The Portuguese corvette Albuquerque put^^H
into the harbor of Bio Janeiro with her ma-^^9
ehinery broken down. The vessel was alsc^^H
short of cna!. BHfl
S-nhor Vianna de Lima, the Brazilian Min-^^^l
ister at Lisbon, received instructions from^^H
his Govornment at Rio Janeiro to sever al^^H|
liplomatic relations with the Government
Portugal. He was ordered to withdra^v^^^^
from Lisbon with his staff.
ACRES OF FLAME, H
Half a Million Loss in Ships, Houses^^H
Coal and Lumber.
Fire which ragod along the water front a^^^^
Pawtucket, R. L. did a fearful amount
damage.
All the coal and lumber yards in th3^^^^
place have been destroyed. Also a two^J^H
masted schooner and four dwelling houses^^^^
There is great damage to shipping t-spe^Hfl
cially. The loss will reach 9500.009 to $750,^BH
000.
It is supposed that the blaze was starte^^^H
by a tramp in one of the big lumber yurd^HBM
Many acres were burned over.