Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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iBwiip's Donblej THE PRIMA DONE. A Story of Mystery, Love and Devotion. nv r?Avm 1.QWHY. CHAPTER l\WConttnood.> Livingston's off-haud sketch wae so close to nature that people who ki>ew the murdered man said It was perfect of its kind. He reread his article and passed it to the managing editor, who 8nailed grimly and nodded as he read it, then said: "Livingston, positively yon have a talont for this sort of thing. Now he is dead, the world is well rid of the Major. Here's the murder?run your eye ovei It acd see if there's anything that needs correcting. You know more about the Major's habits and life than I do." Livingston ran his eyes down the proof until he reached the closing paragraph. Then he trembled and looked over at the managing editor. He opened his lips, but no sound came from them. Be laid the proof down, walked to the proof-hook, found the head and stared fttit* The closine paragraph Informed the public that the police had reason to believe the murder was committed by a van who was ejected from a leading theater for disorderly conduct a few hours before the murder was committed. The man was well known. The motive was revenge for fancied wrongs. "There was a woman in the case," etc. And finally, a double life was hinted at Dy me reporter. The head began with AN ARTIST'S CRIME. A COWARDLY MUBDER, PROMPTED BY JEALOUSY, REVENGE OR BOTH -A GREAT POLITICAL LIGHT STRICKEN OUT. Livingston tossed the proof on the managing editor's table, passed his hand wearily over his eyes, and walked out half dazed, cursing all newspaperdom in In his heart. After going to extraordinary pains to suppress all mention of the fracas in the theater that could connect his friend's name with the disgraceful exhibition, here was the Record, upon which he had been employed years, giving all the details, plainly designating the artist referred to, and only withholding the name. Worse, astounding?awful was the accusation of murder in the head lines. Livingston had but one thought now; that was to find Simmons at once. CHAPTER V. BEAUCHAMPE'S STRANGE EXPERIENCES. When Beauchampe was separated from his friend at the entrance of the theater, he felt a hand on his shoulder, while a voice, a disagreeable voice, said: "Glad to see you, Carrick, 'apech'ly looking so fash." Beaucnampo s isce v?u,a >u mc suauu n is he turned quickly, wrenching himself out of the reach of the man who accosted him. /The man's breath was disagreeable, his familiarity disgusting. "Who are you, sir? I don't know yon," said Beauchampe. "My name is not Carrick." "None o' *hat now, Carrick?not with ma" "You are insolent," said Beanchampe, M he turned his back upon the man with the vile breath. Ee looked around, and thinking he espied Livingston, darted after a gentle-1 man who proved a total stranger. The stranger entered a saloon. Beauchampe stood a moment irresolutely near the entrance, then resolved to reenter the theater. He thought in all probability his friend would re-enter the theater also when he failed to find him. He had taken two or three steps; he I was looking djrectly in front of him, wiien a man sprang out of a doorway, caught him around the neck, and strove to crush him to the pavement. "Rflauehairme. overcome by the sudden aess of the onset, was bent double, but he was stronger than he looked. His daily exercise with the foils, and walks while abroad, had hardened and seasoned his muscles. He succeeded in hurling his assailant flat on his back. It was all dene so s ffiftly, with a 3mart twist and a blow, that his assailant was the more surprised of the two. But before Beauchampe had time to speak, ere he realized the situation, a second man dealt him a blow upon the back of the head. Whether the instrument was iron or wood, Beauchampe did not know. That It was not a human hand he knew full well, and even as he reeled under it, he xciaimed, "coward 1" He did not fall; he remembered afterward that be was on his knees, resisting the blows which were aimed at him. He managed, spite of the blows both men rained upon him, to rise. The man he had tossed on his back truck at him wickedly. Beauchampe warded his blow, and called for help. Then a hack-driver rushed up, but instead of aiding the artist the driver . seized Beauchampe's arms, whereupon he called loudly. Half a dozeu men ran out of the saloon. Beauchampe appealed to them to protect him from his assailants. Two or three grasped him, while the othera warned his assailants to desist, where upon one of them flnng his coat open, xpo'sing a badge, and said: "Gentlemen, this Is? all right. We Itnow what we aro doing." Two of the spectators bent forward in turn and looked at the badge. Then they spoke to the others In low tones. Meanwhile Beaachampe wrenched hlms'eTT free from the grasp of all but the driver, who caught his hands behind him with a steel-like grip, while the man with the badge whipped a stout cord out of his pocket and wrapped it swiftly and tightly around ileauchauipe's wrists. Beauchampe's strugglos meantime rendered ""him breathless. When he essayed to speak he could only gasp. "Gentlemen?gentlemen! Help me? for God's sake help?me out?of the? clutches?of these devils. They want to murder me. There is?some?horrible purpose?or an awful mistake. 1 have?friends in Xcw York^-who?can Identify me?I have a lriends?in the theater. I am an artist, gentlemen. Don't' for God's Bake, gentlemen?let those meu"? "That's one of hl9 old dodge9," said the man who had oxposed the badse. "He'll bo a doctor and a lawyer inside of five minutes." He was pushing Beauchampe toward the carriage. Beauchampe_suddenly Jifted hjs_foot, and the man witn tbe badge was klcued half way across the pavement. The driver struck BeauehaiJipe a cruel blow in the face with his clenched fist, and then the man who first assailed him struck him on the back of the head again, at the same time pushing him toward the carriage. J ' .... , , "I call heaven?to witness"?Beaochampe panted with the blood flowing from his month The spectators advanced threateningly. "Don't abuse him that way," said ooe hotly. "You are a brute," aaki aootber w+tb an oath, "a brute." "Best not .interfere,, pentkaasn,said the man with the badge. "Tnls 15 ocr business; if you do, you may wish yoo hadn't" "If he were anything to roe," replied one of the group, "I'd break your jaw if it cost me ten thousand dollars. You are ruffians?beasts." "Oh, that's all right; fire away if it does you good to talk, put a hand on one of us. ana it mav cost vou all tne money you've got to lose. * This was uttered in gasps as the driver aided the men who had pounced upon Beauchampe to thrust him into the carriage., when the man who first sprang upon him held his face against a seat tc stifle his cries "This is awful," said one of the lookers-on, "sickening." "It is cov;uJ!y. I'll make it my business to inquire into this case,." said another. "On one of the most public thoroughfares, too," said another with a shudder "He looks like a gentleman. I sav, suppose we get a policeman to look into it." "Do! Get a dozen, gentlemen," said the owner of the badge as he entered the carriage, and pulled the door close, while the driver sprang upon his seat, and the carriage was driven rapidly away. At least a dozen men witnessed the closing part of this extraordinary scene, which scarcely occupied two minutes. It was all accomplished with such lightning-like celerity that when the carriage disappeared the spectators looked at each other wonderingly, like men awaking out of a dream. One remarked: "Well, they are experts, whoever tiey are." Then everybody said they never witnessed anything like it And everybody swore no friend of theirs should evei be trusted to the tender mercies of keep- , ers in a mad-house. Meantime, Beauchampe was laid on his back on one of the scats, and the other occupants of the carriage deliberately sat down on him. He struggled a moment helplessly, then gasped for breath. He believed he was i dying. He thought their object was to murder him then and there. Thoughts | of his sister, of his dreams of fame?of the plans he had made for the future? of Livingston, swept through his brain; , his ears were filled with a surging, rushing sound, like the tremendous pressure of mighty waters. His heart seemed to fill his body in its last throb?then he | becamo unconscious. i When he regained consciousness he thought he was lying on his bed in his lodpings, with his sister's hand on his ( head. "He's all right, now, Peters. Guess he won't srive us no more trouble." "If lie does," the imprecation that finished tho speech revived Beauchampe's recollection. He opened his eyes and looked at the I two men sitting opposite him. The carriage was moving rapidly over a smooth roadway. Beauchampe, who i was lying on his right -side, contrived, with great effort, to sit upright. He i gazed at hiscompanion&ln the dim light; I not a word was spoken by the prisoner j <->? v>?o "Romir.hamne deemed it I i wisest to hold his peace; he was powerless: at the mercy of these ruffians whose object he was ignorant of. As the carriage sped over the road, he racked his brain to divine the purpose of | his captors. Suddenly he said, as if the | idea had been suggested by anotner per- j son: , "Is it possible one of you called me Carrick?" "We might call you Carrick now," said one. "Then you have made a terrible mis- i take My name is not Carrick. ? "That.will do now, Jim. " "I tell you my name is not Carrick,* Beaucharape reiterated. "I never heard the name until one of you addressed ma to-night" "It wasn't one of us?at least he isn*t here now, and it don't make any difference whether you call yourself Smith, Brown, Or Jones." "What has Carrick done? Who is Carrick? What am I guilty of?" "Keeps it up well, don't he?" said one of his captors. T>io f>arriaaA t.nmfirl oflf the road. The only sound heard was the quick breathing of the hard-driven horses. Then the carriage stopped, one of the men sprang out, and the other grasped Beauchampe roughly, commanding him to step out carefully, and make no false move. Beauchampe obeyed in silence. He was led_ between the two. while the driver walked benlna, until tney approacned entrance of a large gloomy-looking building. Beauchampe shuddered as he glanced up at the dim outlines. What was this house? One of bis captors rang a bell. Instantly the door opened. It was evident some one was in waiting. Two of Beauchampe's captors passed into the vestibule and passageway with him, still grasping his arms tightly. The driver remained outside. A man with a very large, hooked nose, who had opened the door, preceded them, turning into a room on the right, in which another gentleman sat. This gentleman rose when the group entered, glanced at the door, and the man with the heavy, hook nose instantly closed it. A lamn with a ?*oft shade stood on a table covered with green oil cloth. There was neither carpet, rug. picture, mirror, nor any article of furniture iu this room save the plain table and two arm chairs. Beauchampe gazed around this room curiously, and again a chill passed over him. The occupant of the room, a man with dark, piercing eyes and cold, passionless features, lifted the lamp and gazed steadily in Beauchampe's face. As he replaced the lamp on the table again, he said, in a tone of indifference: "I see you have had a tussle. That will do. You can go. Hawkins, do you think you can manage without them now?" As Beauchampe's captors turned near the door, the man with the hook nose measured Beauchamp9 from head to foot very deliberately?in a way that caused him to shiver a third time, and replied: "Easily." The door opened and Beauchampe's captor's passed out, leaving him alone with the tall man with the piercing black eyes and the broad-shou.dered man with the groat hooK-nose. "Where am I?" asked Beauchampe, looking at tho tall man. Ho leaned forward Involuntarily. The man with the hook-noso stood af his left shoulder staring at him with hard, unwinking eyes. The tall man contemplated B'eauchainpe at least a minute; then ho said, in an ordinary tone: "You are in safe hands, Carrick." "My name is not Carrick. I tell you. There has beon a fearful mistake. I am an artist " "There always Is a mistake, If yon are an artist we will give you something to ainuse you." "I te'.l you my name is not Carrick, and I warn you, sir??" "Take him to his room, Hawkins," Hawkins advanced. The grasp he gave Btauchainpe frightened and angeri ed him, ? ... T30 not crash my arm in that way." "Keep quiet, then," said Hawkins. ""Once more, I demand Un answer." Where am I?" "You are in my asylum," said the tall man in his even, ordinary tones. "Heavens! A mad-house! A private mad-hocse!" exclaimed the artist "You may discover we know how to deal with madman. It depends on your behavior, altogether." "Yon are the proprietor, sir? May 1 ask your name?" "You can tell him, Hawkins,". "You know very well that you are in Dr. Varek's Asylum. Now, come wito we." The man with hook nose .Jed him. up a ^nt ot stairs, turned off into a orw^, passage, led Beauchampe into a large room in which there was an iron bed- J stead and a large iron ring in the middle of a large stone set Id a tile floor. Uawkins coolly locked the door when he pushed Beauchampe into this room. Then he stood looking at him with ?yos that shone like glass. There was no soul in Hawkins' eyes; a cold, steady glare was directed upon Beauchampe. Then Hawkins removed the oord from his wrists, stood back and contemplated Beauchampe again. "Its just as Dr. Varek said. Cut up rough and I'll bring tou to your knees. Now, go to bod. That's all for tonight." Hawkins unlo?ked the door, turned, looked at the artist a second time with a cold smile on his bloodless thin lips, stepped outside and the key was turned in the lock again. Beauchampe sat on the side of the bed and put his hands over his eyes. The thoughts that crowded his brain at that moment rendered him frantic. He tossed his hands upward and beat the air impotently. He did not know that tears were streaming down his cheeks until his hand accidentally touched his face. Then he. j tossed himself on the bed and moaned in his helplessness and rage, He did not remove his clothes. He lay on the bed hours; then he paced the room. At intervals he heard unearthly cries and sobs. One poor woman ?Beauchampe was startled with her first shriek?uttered cries that made his flesh creep. The broad light streamed into his room through the window, but no one came near him. He heard many footsteps, dcrisivft laughter, shrieks and blows, but he was forgotten. When he was sure half the day had passed, he struck his door with his hand. At last an attendant?a man?opened It, and stood looking at him. "What do you want? What are yon making a noise about?" "I want to see Dr. Varek. Don't you ?ive people victuals? Am I to be starved?" Tou will be attended to in time." "When do you call it time? Half the Jay is gone now. " "Itis just 8 o'clock." "My God!" exclaimed Bcauchampe, "and I was sure it was noon at least Please tell Dr. Varek I want to speak to him?or Mr. Hawkins." The door was closcd with a bang and locked. At the end of half an hour seemingly ?but in fact, eight minutes, Hawkins confronted him. Beauchauipe said: "Give me something to eat, Mr. Hawkins, and"?HawkIns stood glaring at him?"give me paper and ink and pen?pencil?something to occupy my time Do, for God's sake, Hawkins, l must ao sometning. "Certainly?you can nave reams of paper. And all you can cat." Then Hawkins disappeared, and the first attendant returned with a large bowl, in which Beauchampe beheld a large piece of meat, two boiled potatoes, and two slices of buttered bread. There was neither knife nor fork. Presently, Hawkins entered with paper and a lead pencil. "Must I eat like an animal?" Beauchampe asked. "You must comply with our rules." "Hawkins stood staring steadily at his poor victim. "Treat me like a man," said Beauchampe. "I am not a beast" Hawkins did not deign an answer, and the artist suddenly seized the bowj that was placed on the floor, and ere the attendants could interpose flung it with all his might on the floor. The pieces flew in every direction. "Very well," said Hawkins without moving a muscle "We'll go back to nr>a7t.or nnw Dan. cro and eet the Dail and mop, and clean up the room. You can make out on one mea! to-day. You can starve to-morrow if yon want to." Then Hawkins and the attendant left him alone again. When he was alone, lieauchampe stooped suddenly, eying the door furitively all the while, picked up three pieces of the broken dish, and thrust them at random under the bed clothes. In a little while the attendant named Dan re-entered his room with a pewter dish large enough to hold a quart, on which was placed a piece of meat, a single potato, and half a slice of unbuttered bread, "Am 1 to have nothing to drink, not even water?" Heauchampe demanded. Dan did not even look at him. He walked out and locked the door bohind him. Beauchampe looked at the meal Then he ate the bread. Next he ate the potato. Finally lie took the meat in his hands, and devoured it eagerly. He was half famished. He had never experienced sucn nunger. Having cleaned the pewter dish, he paced the floor a score of times. Then he took up the paper Hawkins had placed on the bed, and the pencil, and proceeded to draw a human head Spite of himself this head had a resemblance to Hawkins At least it was Hawkins' nose. He drew another, and it too was like Hawkins. It had Hawkins' eyes. He drew a house, and then he sketched half a dozen chimneys, what was it made his mind run on chimneys? He scattered the drawings maae quickly over the bed. Then he thrust his hand under the clothes, brought forth the pieces of broken delf, and bent over each in turn industriously. While thus engaged ho listened intently. Several times when footsteps approached the door ho thrust the pieces of delf under the bed clothes and picked up a piece of paper. Apparently he was not to be disturbed in his drawing. When he had finished the work on the last fragment of the bowi, he thrust it uuder his bed clothes and began drawing dogs' heads on paper. All tho dogs' eyes resembled Dr. Varek's just as all tho noses on the human heads somehow resembled Hawkins. Whiie thus engaged, the door was opened without warning, and Dr. Varek entered tha room, followed by Hawkins. Hawkins went down on all fours without speaking, and looked under the bed. Meanwhile Heaucharape was scrutinized closely by the Doctor. His efforts to preserve an air of unconcern he realized were futile. L)r. Varek's eyes pierced him through and through. ' Try the lied," said Dr. Varek, calmly: rnd Hawlcins lifted the "cover, sheet, and rolled the hard mattress up. As he rolled, something fell. The Doctor stooped now, and picked up the three p'eees of the broken bowl. After scrutinizing each in turn, he handed tliein to Hawkins, whose brows met in angar asjie contemplated thona. ?. "You are very clever, indeed," said Dr. Varek. "You have a genius for this business, Carrick." Beaucbampe had seated himself on the side of the bod, and covered his face with his hand. uYou doubtless intended to roll these up in a ploce of a garment, a strip of bed-sheet, or sock?anything that would make a cover?and throw them out on the road You would perhaps break a pane, of glass if necessary, and the person finding these clever drawings would read the story. A man clubbed, and pushed into a house with the word 'rnad' on it It would make a good scene in a play, but the idea is lost to the world. We will take these little drawings and preserve thorn as evidence of your skill, Mr. Carrick. You can thank my assistant, Mr. Hawkins, for suppressing this performance. Hawkins thinks of everything, Carrick. He would not rest until he fitted the pieces of that bowl together ?that jvas what broueht us here." Then the Doctor looked at the paper drawings and smiled. [TO 3S CONTINCED.] TEMPERANCE. KILLED OVER A KEG OF BEEB. Six young m6n of Shelbyville. Ky., got into a drunken rmarrpl alf?p rlrinklnw n 1ret* of beer, and one of them shot two of his companions. The shooter wns then shot twice in the breast. He died soon after, and the other two men were also fatally wounded.? Crystal Tidings. FATEEns a:;d sons. The children of inebriates furnish a large proportion of tho infant mortality which is a disgrace to our civilization. Such children begin with an unstable nervous system, which may express itself as the drink-crave itself; and in addition, all the nervous ailments, for example, idiocy, infantile convulsions, epilepsy, neuralgia, hypochondria, hysteria, paralysis, insanity, or it may express itself in other ways. Eat even then, they suffer, though innocent. The parents' intemperance is represented in them, and will be for generations to come, by ailments which are called by respectable names ; gout, dyspepsia, nerves and legion! But it is but seldom that the children of the intemperate can break down the infiusnca of the sad environment in which they have grown up. The evil that men do live.? after them. Tho children of such parents are almost sure to be saddled with diseases and tendencies directly resulting from their parents' habits.? Journal ol Inebriety. WITHOUT WINE SAUCE. The following suggestive incident, gfvan in the New York Evangelist, serves to show how much we may help or hinder another, quite unconsciously it may be, by our example : "A young man sat at a hotel table with a gentleman and a lady friend for whom he felt the greatest respect. The waiter said to the gentleman.: 'Will you have puiding with wine sauce?' 'Yes,' was the answer. The young man's craving for strong drink was aroused at t he mention of the wine sauce, and he also was about to reply affirmatively to the waiter's question when his lady friend quickly said 'Pudding without wine sauce, if you please.' -Without wine sauoe,' came the young man's reply. "Afterward, in the parlor, he said to her: 'I want to thank you for doing me a great favor.' She looked astonished. 'You do not know what it meant to me when you said at the dinner table, "Pudding without wine siuce, if ycu please.'" He then told her his strugglo against strong drink and how near he hud come to falling, saved only by her timely example." The uniform example of abstinence from all use of intoxicants on our part con harm no one and may help many.?Temperance Advocate. _____ EXPERIMENT A>*D experience. At a recent meeting in England. Sir Een? /amin Ward Bichards6n, M. I)., reviewed the position taken by him twenty-five years ago "with reference to alcohol, which may be summed up as follows: "I can no more accept it as a food than I can chloroform, or ether, or methylal. That alcohol produces a temporary excitement is true, but as its general action is to reduce animal heat I cannot see how it can supply animal force. I can see clearly how it reduces animal power, and can show a reason for using it in order to stop physical pain, or to stupsfiy mental pain ; but that it gains strength, that it supplies material for construction of tissue, or throws force into tissues supplied by other material?must bo an error as solemn as it is widespread. The true character of alcohol is that it is an orrroouKlu tnmnftruw ch?r.n^ Tn roaftft fHT force to alcohol is, to my mind, equivalent to the act of searching lor the sua in subterranean gloom, until all is night. "Tnese were the words ot 1S6'9," said the learned scientist, "and now that a quarter of a century has elapsed since they were written and spoken, 1 stand on the past and without prejudice, without indifference, but with observation and research maintained up to tho present moment. 1 do not see a single reason for changing one idea or one word. I hav*. however, something to add. I 6poke, in I860 on experiment without personal experience. 1 have been led by what I may call personal experiment, to confirm the past on the present, and after twenty-five years have come to tho distinct conclusion, unhesitatingly and undoubtedly expressed, that by abstinence I have lost nothing, retained everything, uad gainod much. Practice has sustained theory, and experience experiment. When I had overcome the physiological difficulties I continued,for some time to apply what I bad originally learned to the treatment of disease, using alcohol as at least an exceptional remedy. Gradually it dawned upon me that tho error here might be as great as the error relating to health and alcohol. \Yh?n the London Temperance Hospital was opened to me I obtained a field such as I had never had before tor scientific observation?with the result that 700 acute cases have come under my care, disease of the most varied kinds and acutest in character, all of which have been treated without any recourse to alcohol or to anything* that may be called a substitute for it. Recoveries from severest diseases are a.< good, if not better, under this method, than under the old one, and convalescence is unquestionably advanced. The truth, in short, holds good all through, that that which ie best in health is best also in disease, and il It wero in the power of any one to say, *1 remove from your reach alcohol as a medicine,'I should answer, 'There is not a medicine that you can remove from me with greater <mpunity.' " TEJIPpiUNCE NEWS AND NOTES. Por every four shillings spent in England for drink, only a half-penny is spent for education. Of the 11,000 saloon keepers in New York City, it is stated that no less than 8000 have served terms in the prison. Strong drink produces more idleness, crime, disease, want and misery than all other causes put together.?London Times. During the past six months 430 saloons have olosed their doors in Hamilton County, N. Y.. on account of ihe hard times. More can be spared. The statement was recently made in the German Reichstag that there are 11,000 persona in hospitals in Germany who are sulTer* ing with delirium tremens. If you aro road ot wine, you ougnt to nustain for your own sake ; and if you are not fond of wine. you ought to abstain for tlio sake of others.?F. W. Farrar. In connection with the sanitation of armies thousand? of experiments with large bodies of men show that they are J-.etter able to endure the fatigue of barvl marches when not allowed any alcohol at all. When the Queen of Madagascar shut up the saloons iu her kingdom, and the ex-saloon keepers asked for compensation, she replied, ''Compensate thoso you have wronged, and I will pay tbo balance." Thomas Byrnes, Superintendent of the New York Police Department, says4 "After ail, if we hunt vice and crimo back to their lairs wg will be pretty sure to find them in the gin mill. Drunkenness is the proiiflc mother of most of the evil-doing." No wino nor intoxicating liquor was served at the wedding feast of the grand* daughter of Vanderbilt. who was married not long since. Every such endorsement ol temperenco in high social circles is an as= surance of the speedy banishment of the so; i cial glass from all circles. SABBATH SCHOOL INTERNATIONAL LESSON FOR JULY 15. Lesson Text: "Visit of the Wise Men,1' Math, it, 1-12?Golden Text: 3Iath. ii., 11? Commentary. 1. "Now. when Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judma, :n the days of Herod the king. behold, there came wise men from the east to Jerusalem." Matthew gave us what Is specially known as the gospel of the kingdom. Here only do we find the expression "kingdom of heaven." At His birth Jesus Is oalled "Kins: of the Jews," and at the beginning and end of this gospel other rulers are troubled because of Him. See Herod and Pilate. It is suggestive of the time when He shall come in glory, and the nations shall be angry, and all kindreds of the earth wail (Rev. xi.. 18 ; i.. 7). He was called Jesns before He was born (Jlatb. i.. 21). At least five others are mentioned by name before theirbirtb. Ishmael, Isaac. Joshua, Cyrus and John the Baptist. Note the lesson in Isa. xivi, 9-10; Eph. ii., and apply it believingly to yourself. 2. "saying. wnere is tie mar js oorn runs of the Jews? for we have seen His star in the east and are come to worship Him." We shall have to wait until "the morning" to know all we would like to know about these wise men, who they were, how. many they were, what they knew about the King of the Jews, and how, what land they came from, what was the effect of their tidings upoD their countrymen when they returned, etc. But they make us think of Ps. Irxii., 10, 11, Isa., Ix., l-3;Zecb. xlv.. 16: Jer. itl.. 17, when all nations shall have their representatives in Jerusalem to worship the King. 3. "When Herod, the king had heard these things, he was troubled and all Jerusalem with him." It is not strange that the enemies of God should be troubled by the presence of Him against whomtbey are in rebellion. Some day they shall be so troubled that they will want rock3 and mountains to fall upon them and hide them from His face (Rev. vi., 15-17). 4. "And when he had gathered all the chief priests and scribes of the people together he demanded of them where Christ should be born." Literally it is "the Christthe wise men asked for the King of the Jews, but Herod asks for the Christ, which in Hebrew would be the Messiah, and in English the Anointed. See how on the cross the chief priests mocked Him with the title "Christ, the King of Israel" (Mark xv., 32). It looks as if Hero:i had heard some talk of a coming king of Israel, just as to-day many hear of the possible return in an an unexpected hour of this same Jesus. 5. "And they said nnto him. In Bethlehem of Judaea, for thus it is written by the prophet." They do not seem to have asked time to look it up, as many teachers would need to do now if asked concerning the return of Christ. They seem to have been familiar with this prophecy and to have answered promptly, and yet they were not personally interested ; their kuowledge did not draw them to Him. 6. "And thou. Bethlehem, in the land of Juda, are not the least among the princes of Jnda, for out of thee shall come a governor that shall rule my people Israel." This is minted from Mie. v.. 2. the Inst clause ot which says that His goings forth have been from the days of eternity (margin). The ruler of Israel was to be "a son born, acbild given." but He was also "the Mighty God" (Isa. lx., 6, 7). As truly as He has fulfilled part of the prophecy, He will fulfill the rest and sit on David's throne at His second coming. 7 "Then Herod, when he had privily called the wise men, inquired of them diligently what time the star appeared.1' He is getting interested in the child, but it is the interest of satan to destroy, not the interest of the wise men who came to worship. 8. "And he sent them to Bethlehem and % said. Go and search diligently for the young child, nnd when ye have found Him bring me word again, that I may come and worship Him also." We may rejoice, the wise men might have said,, for we have gained a convert. but God was reading Herod's heart, and perhaps the wise men oould read him too. Ever since sin made Adam and Eve foolish enough to try to hide from God behind the trees, in the garden (Gen. iii.. 8), man has been plotting and planning and acting as if God could not see nor read the heart, not knowing that all is open to Him (Heb. iv., 18). 9. "When they had heard the king, they departed. And, lo, thestar which they saw in the east went before them till it C3me and stood over where the young child was." Is it possible that they lost the star when they turned aside to see Herod and might have been guided by the star only without any Help irom ueroa or tue cmei pnesi&.- n looks that way, for as soon as they left Herod then "lo. the star" once more guides them. Wnen we trust God alone to guide us. It will bt> well, but turning aside to man brings trouble. 10. -'When they saw the star, they rejoiced with exceeding great joy." It is only restiul and joyful to be led by God only. They hod been evidently ill at ease in the presence of the king and during the probable long delay of his gathering the priests to get their answer, but now. they are once more dealing with God only, and they doubtless felt like saying, "God, my exceeding joy" (Ps. xliii., 4). ilany Christian workers are much hindered by the wisdom of seemingly good men, but to step out and follow "Jesus only" is joy indeed. 11. "And when they were come into the house they saw the young child with Mary, His mother, and fell down and worshiped Him, and when they had opened their treasures they presented unto Him gifts, gold and frankincense and myrrh." The star had guided them to the very house where the child was (verse 9), for God leaves nothing half done, and now they are face to face with Him whom they have journeyed so far lo see. According to the custom of our day, they should have made each other a present about this time, but all is given to the child Jesus. It will be a good day for churches and Sunday-schools when the Christmas time sees pastors and people, teachers and scholars, vying with each other in loving gifts to Jesus to hasten the time of His kingdom. 12. "And being warne-1 of God in a dream that they should not return to Herod they departed into their own country another way.'' God knew what Herod's worship meant, and He knoweth how to deliver. He can guide us by His word and spirit, or by a dream, or a star, or an angel, and in some way He will surely guide us if we will only let Him. His word is generally sufficient, but if aught else is needed it shall be given, yet never in conflict with His word, which is supreme, for His word is Himself. It is always safe to disobey Herod in order to obey God.?Lesson Helper. too many Horses. The Northwestern States have mom horse3 than they know what to do with. It is calculated that in Washington. Oregon, Montana, Nevada, and Idaho there are not less than 2.000,000 head of half-breed horses, for which no market can be Jound. They bring next to nothing on the marker, and are increasing out of all ratio to tb3 demand. It is now proposed literally to kill off by thousands the mongrel herds of the Northwest and convert them into fertilizing and similar compounds. With this end in view, a company has been organized at Portland, Oregon, and a site for the abattoir has been secured. It is proposed by the incorporators to bring all the horses purchased to their abattoirs and there kill them t>y a painless math.id. The flesh will then be rendered ?f all its fat, and tlie residu , with the bones and hoofs, will be made, into a fertilizer. The hides, that have always a market value, will b-5 carefully removed and salted, the' hair being shaded oiT, and, with tho mane and tail, used for the stuffing ' iiaattressf s and upholstery work. A portion of ths meat will also bo compressed for chickeu rood, and no part of the hide, hair, fi^sh or bone that <*ni be put into any practical use will be lost sight of. Decoy Letters Jfot <4JIaII.'* Judge Croseup. of tho United States Court, Chicago, rendered a decision which will make it more Jifflcult for postofflce inspectors to obtain evidence against violators of the postal laws It was in the case of James Palmer, a letter carrier charged with stealing from the mails. The Court decided that a test or decoy letter, whi?h was used to entrap Palmer, was not in the mail3 in the legal sense at the time it was alleged to have been taken bv the carrier. The jury wa* inscructed :o briug in a verdict of not guilty, and Palmer became a free man. The letter in this caso was not regularly transmitted through the mails and was not postmarked. ..... ' -- /. Demure and Coqnettls a Torrgptu A stimmer coiffure that is both demure and co c^uettish at the same time calls for three deep waves on both sides of the bead, beginning on the temples. The ears are covered by I the puffs, and the hairin the back, which also is waved, is brought to a point just a little distance below the crown of the head, where it is made into two loops, and is tied with abright ribbon that is arranged in a | A Cycle That Drives Itself. The latest conception of the inventive geniuses who cater to the requirements of the wheel world is the motor fcycle. The novelty is intended to take the place of buggies and carriages, and is designed to De ot service at an seasons of the year, and in every kind of going. The tires are fully four inches in diameter, and vibration is reduced to a minimum. The motive power is produced by coal oil, and as soon as the rider takes his seat securely the machine does the rest. A gallon of oil will drive the single seat motor 200 miles, while twice the quantity will send the new four-wheeled contrivance a similar distance with three passengers aboard. The four-wheeler seems destined to a long lea9e of popularity. It practically consists of two ladies' bicycles connected by a carriage seat in which three passengers can seat themselves comfortably. The speed can be con FOR ONE TO RIDE OJT. trolled at the operator's will, bat just how fast a "scorcher" may send it along will not be known with any degree of accuracy until the practical speed trial is held on some date in the | near future. I The designer has long been before the public with his air ship theories, and now that he has got down to terra firma the chances are that his idea6 will be found of practical utility. Experts who have examined the two types of cycles shown in the accompanying cuts think thef are destined to play a prominent part among the season's | intentions. Should a tithe of the inj ventor'e hopes be realized, the public must be prepared to see citizens gliding along with far less waste of en* ^ A - a! i ?vi V* o-n olo. I ergy tHan is requireu vu tumu ; vator stairB or sprint from the side| walk to catch a surface car. With a | motor cycle, a gallon of coal oil, and j " A BICYCLE BUILT FOR TWO. a box of matches, the veriest cripple will be able to hold his own with the most muscular prodigy bestriding a wheel.?New York Sun. Three Modern Aphorisms* Miss Frances M. Willard reports three aphorisms repeated to her in conversation by the late Sir Andrew Clark, | who was the physician having charge j of Mr. Gladstone's health. They are worthy of being remembered, and we quote them: "Labor is the life of life." "Ease is the way to disease." "The highest life of any organ lies in the fullest exercise of its functions." It is plain that the philosophy of these maxims is one which Mr. Gladstone fully shared. His forced retirement from public life on account of failing eyesight is telling on him far more - - -* than did tne worries 01 jjuumw lixo I while he was able to be in it.?Boston ! Cultivator. An American Girl's Badge ot Bravery. Miss Jennie Creek, who is the ! youngest person probably who was ever decorated by the French Order of the Legion of Honor, is a half orphan, and lives with the family of Samuel Personett, near Millgrove, Blackford County, Iud. She i6 one of five poor children, whose father is a woodsman, near Gillman, Ind. She is only ten years old. On September 10, 1893, when she ran down the track waving her little apron to stop a Pennsylvania train loaded with people returning from the World's Fair, that was rushing toward a burning bridge, she was barefoot and half-clad. Her foster parents were laboring in a field, and also barefoot. With disheveled hair and frightened as a hare, the passengers caught little Jennie aud carried her through the car. The womeu jpetted her and the men gave her money. After the story reached the railroad ofljcials they sent her a pass for her tb Summer Coiffure. COUTCKE. defiant group of two loops and two notched ends. This is a very youthful frame for any face, and is the favorite coiffure of Mias Scott, the niece of Vice-President. Stevenson. The ribbon in her hair ia usually white, as that is her favorite color for evening gowna. The hair can be parted in front and trained to curve slightly before being made into the deep -waves. ?New York Journal. self and foster parents to the World's Fair, enabling her to see a show that was only dimly outlined in her chilr ish dreams. The medal came to he by mail accompanied by a diploma in French. Jennie is very proud of her SSS* JEXJiTE CREEK. Bfl medal, and has become the most fa-^H i mo us person in all the country round, H ?New York Recorder. h The Summer Slipper. H She who aspires to be fa?hionable^B mast have as many slippers in her^J summer wardrobe as she has evening^l gowns. Satin slippers to match the^f gown are always in favor, but atpres-^B ent the black slipper rules the hoar. A new black satin slipper is adorne^H with a rosette of black gauze whicl^H glistens with gilt spangles. A paten^H * -1 flB leather novelty Has an oau-snapei^* strap over the instep which fasten^H with small rhinestone buttons. Th^H slipper is ornamented by a black moir^H bow caught with a round rhineston^H buckle. No fashionable slipper i^H without a buckle. The buckles var^H from inexpensive silrer clasps to cost^H ly affairs set in jewels. Khinestones^H which are in reach of the avsrag^B woman's puree, always make an eJ^D fective buckle.?New York World. jflW Whitewash. 9fl Whitewash is maae irom pare wuii^h lime which has been carefully burnec^H mixed with water. If made up witHj| hot water aud applied while hot will adhere better and last longer. is, consequently, best to make up onl^H a small quantity at a time, replenisflH ing with fresh hot whitewash as r^E| quired.?Atlanta Constitution. SMI Nestor ot the Senate. H| Senator Sherman, of Ohio, recentl^HH completed a term of service in th^^H United States Senate equal to that Senator Benton's, whose servioe twenty-nine years, two months an^^H twenty-seven days had until no^^fl exceeded that of any United Stat^^H Senator. Mr. Sherman entered to^H Senate March 23, 1361. He serv^^H continuously until March 8, 187*^^9 when he entered Mr. Hayes's Cabine^Hj and re-entered the Senate March JOHN SHERMAN. 9H& 18S1. He has served eontinuou^^H since, and his present term will n^Hg expire until 1S99. MB