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1 i ^ G&jdfv Oi^onvlj ^teele CHAPTER XVII?Contlnned. C "I wish Old Graham was dead. But iperhaps it is as well that he is here; I can report to him at once, or bleed him Again. Confound him, I am not in his power, but he is in mine. Why should t care for him, or be alarmed if h? were kere this moment! I am master, and ifiiaster I shall remain while there is a plank afloat, or a rag above it." | In this way Fox worked off his anger, mnd with it his confidence in hie own Wonderful powers. i Be was emphatically a man of action, trot, when excited, his command of ,Vord6 was equal to the energy with Which he used th?m. ^ He put the map Frenauld had given &im into his pocket, and then, taking &is arm, walked back with him to the Are. f They had but just reached there, when ? tall form emerged from the darkness, fcnd Uncas, chief of the Montauks, enveloped in a scarlet mantle, that was Gripping with moisture, stood before fchem. f "You are true to your word," said (Uncas, shaking Fox's hand. "You have tome, but where is he?" , illrl nnt niud tn ooV vhn thfi "he" Preferred to was. I "See here, Unca6," he said, motioning ohief to follow him to the boat. I As Fox passed the fire he picked up a jbrand, ana, approaching the boat, he Sirew back the awning and held the light Above the unconscious man's face, i "Do you know who that is?" he asked, r "Balph Denham!" said the chief. And * wild light burned in his black eyes. "He is yours," said Fox. "Now do "with him as you promised." "Can you lift him out of the boat?" asked Uncas. : "I will have that done." I Fox motioned to the sailors, and they lilted the bed out of the boat, and placed it near the fire, Frenauld throwing an < oil-cloth over the pale face, to shield it ] tfrom the rain. , i fjome, jei ub uuiuwi, wuuu aiv i j [about it," said Fox; and with his owe j ihands, he helped to take out the boxes, jand placed them under the bed on which ' Jialph Denham was lying. j "With his customary energy, Foj < . worked, and made others work, till the ; 'boat, with Frenauld, and all the sailors, excepting Don, the cabin boy, was mak- ] ing his way to the ship. < "You see," said Fox to the chief, whet i the boat was out of eight and hearing, < "that I trust myself to you, for I believe the Montauk chief will keep hie 1 word." j "So far. no man has appeared to < -doubt my word. I have, at times since < l?eeing you, felt that it was not becom- < ling a brave man to do as I am doing; t but the Montauks ar? not prepared foi t war, as ase Ralph Denham, and his ( ;men." i ! "You are right. Cunning is often better < than courage. You have now in your i power the man who has scorned you, j land made your life unhappy. Are you i jgolng to ask, in such a case, if it be Sight to put them out of the way? Of t course not, though, in accordance with s your promise, you must not put him out { of the way till I give the word." t "But in that way I might be forced to j keep him forever," said the chief. i "How so?" i , "You are a sailor, here to-day, far c away to-morrow, and I may not be a'Ue t to get to you, nor you to roe," replied Tineas. "Before I leave these waters aeain I will leave you free to act as you please. But now, while it is yet dark night, might it not be better to remove this man?" said Fox. pointing to the bed. "I am ready for that." ' Uncas placed to his lips a peculiarly curved bone, known to old hunters as ft "deer call," and blew a low, plaintive blast, that sounded exactly like the appealing cry of a wounded fawn. r In answer, a low whistle came back from the cliffs and tho darkness. TTnpA? rwnpntorl thfi Thfin was i heard the fall of rapidly approaching ] feet, and the quick breathing o! men, i as if engaged in a life and death race. In another instant Old Somonk and o his son, accompanied by two tall In- [ dians, stood in the presence of the e chief, and the old man, who seemed to e be the leader, 6aid: "Uncas, we are here!" t CHAITKR XVIII. 1 CAPTAIN FOX PERFECTS 11 IK WORK AND j STARTS OFF T > FIND COLONEL CKAHAM. , "There is a sleeping man here whom t yon must carry to the place we have j prepared for him," said the Montauk ? ehief, pointing to the bed which looked ? strangely like an Indian bier. "Ha," grunted Old Somonk, as he , took a place near tbe head of the be 1.; ( "I have helped to carry your father to ( the last sleeping place of the Montauk ( ohiefs, and I have heard my father say ( that on his shoulder rested the head ] of the mighty Wvandauch, when they \ 4Hjr? 111 UU W 111V SIIUJI" J-'IUtC. "We care not to hear that now," said' Uncos, half in fear, half in.anger. "It is the privilege of an old man to j Bpeak. Yonder ground is the resting place of the dead chiefs of the Mon- , tanks, not a sleeping place for live white J men," persisted Old Somonk, who now j talked with a wonderful fluency, contrasted with his reticence the first night , lie met Frenauld. "Ard you are here to obev me. not to give opinions. Then addressing" the others, he continued: "The word of the chief has ever been t ie law of the Montauks. Come, my braves, and raise! the burden to your shoulders." The men, including Old Somonk, obeyed him. "(Stay you here, Captain Fox, till I return." Uncas waved his hand and was about to pass away, but Fox stopped him by asking: : 'When will you return'1" "Before the sun rises," replied the ohief. "And it will be safe for me to remain here?" ( "As safe as the child over whom a 1 fond mother watches." "Very well; I shall wait." Without a torch to light the way, Uncas led the braves through the* dark- ; ness. By this time the wind and rain had died out, leaving the night air cool and i bracing. The stillness was that of death. Even the footsteps ot the Indians and their reg*-* lar breathing had a spectral sound. After walking about an hour, witb the long, straight stride that characterizes the-Indian, Uncas called to hi6 follow- , -ers to stop, and again blew a low blast ( jon Jhe deer call, - . .. .. In instant a light flashed tjp, and ar old woman appeared tearing a torch; il woe the wife of Old Somonk. "Ik all ready?" asked the chief, speaking in the Montauk tongue. "The tomb of the mighty Wyandaucr is open and a light burns therein. Come with me." By the light or hor torch it could be seen that she faced a hill, the summit of which was lost in the darkness, "while directly in front was an open space like a small cave or vault, within which burned a dim light Into this the four men with their burden marched, and they placed the bed on which Captain Denham lay on a long slab, the stone that covered the parthlv rnrrmi'na nf WvonHonnli thft memorable chief of the Montauks. "Take you charge of him, * said Uncas, addressing the old woman, "and your son and husband will remain on guard outside." "How long has the white youth beea sleeping?" asked Somonk's wife, as she held the shell lamp above Ralph's face. "That matters not; he will soon awake." "Then what shall I do?" "Give him food if he want6 it" "But he will ask where he is?" "If so, tell him he is the prisoner of Uncas, chief of the Montauks." The ohief strode out of the vault and, followed by the two Indians, who had helped Old Somonk and his son to carry Ralph Denham, hurried in the direoAnn nf th#> nrinninn.1 villain of th? Montauke. They traveled with surprising rapidity for men on foot, and after an hour and a half they saw a glow in advance, that told them they were nearing the objective point. Tney were yet a quarter of a mile or more away from the lights, when a voice directly in front called out: "Whar goes Uncas, de chief of de Montauks, sich a night?" "Is that you, Dinah?" asked the startled Indian. " 'Tie Dinah, en no one el6e," croaked the old hag. "En I wants for to ax whar hez been die night uv storms de chief of de Montauks?'' "It matters not," said Uncas; "go you to your cabin, and go to bed." "Wy should I go to my cabin wen dar'6 evil a prowlln' roun* in de darkness? Wy should dls ole 'oman go to bed wen de sun's nigh to risin?" "Go to bed to sleep," growled tne chief, about to move on. "Dar'll be sleepin' 'nuff in de bed whar Jeze olfc bones'll soon be laid. Your fader en his fader hev gone to dat sleep, en de cuss of de Great Sperrit, ez dey loved, will fall on him ez places de livin' Qi.ch onto 'era " "Hist, you hag!'' interrupted the chief; 'what do you know about my acts?" "Look up above yer head, Uncas, ?hief of the MoDtauks, en tell me what yeh sees dar." Between his eyes and the distant light, the chief saw the shriveled arm )f the old negress pointing to the sky, md involuntarily his eyes followed the Jirection. "I only see night and darkness," said uncas. "Night and darkness, yas, but beyond le dark cloud de stars am shinin'. Your ?yee is young, en can't see 'em; my 3yes is old, but sees 'em blazin' like de suns, en dey sez: 'Dinah, Dinah, dat:er uv de African King Molloka, de ihief Uncas brings disgrace on de great lame Wyandauch, en from this night >n. ef he do not make change, hez ind s sot, en de glory of de Montauks shall ;o down into de darkness now 'bove yer iead.' " The old woman spoke tragically, and ;he chief?himself the child of superitition?shuddered, but it was only for i moment. He had gone out of the >caten paths of his fathers, he had neasured, so well as passion would pernit, the depths into which he was sinkng. If ever, and he did sometimes juestion his own course, he gave ,bought to the unprincely acts he conomnlutoH nnH wno Ihon nArfnrmincr tVio beautiful face of Lea Hedges would lash like a blazing meteor across the sky of his darkened brain, and spur him with fur^* to continue the tool of this adventurer, but as he thought the ivengcr of his own imagined wrongs. "Leave me now," he said, striding ihead; "leave me, but do not imagine .hat the hospitality extended to you for twenty year6 by our people, Rives you he privilege to insult their chief. Go ;o your cabin, and hold your peace, or ;o from the land of the Mont auks.'' "En ef I don't go to my caUin, en ef I ion't hold my peace, wat denV" shrieked Dinah, still keeping in the chief's adranee. "Then I will find a means to drive vou iway," said Uncas, raising his hand, as f he would strike her, but tbe next infant letting It fall heavily, as if in ihaine. by his 6ide. Dark as it was, her q aick eye caught he gesture, and it seemed to madden ler. "Once," she shouted, "de chiefs of de Hontauks scorned to raise dar hans gainst any but warriors armed foh batle. But den dar hearts was strong and rave. Ole women and helpless men ley keered foh. De.v wasn't cowards tnd murd'rers. Oh. I know it all! You an t hide it from me, onless yeh kill ne. But kill me, en den see if yer red . P ~ ^ A,. )i xjjo; set? ci ur Bpt iin oi ui^ uman stays in de groun' en (lis wo'n body, see den, Uncas of de Montauks, ef I lon't stay ober and e&er by yer side. En wen all is still in de camp, on you ie down ou de dee' skin in de wigwam, it my }?ans don't keep yer eye9 from ibettin'. En den louder'n de tunder iz rolled over dese hills dis night, ye'll lear me shoutin', dough no ono else dn, even yer wife lyin' by ver side, ef re ever gets one, 'Wake, wake, Uncas 5f de Montauks, murd'rers cannot sleep in peace on die yer airth.' " The chief, now thoroughly alarmed, & were the men following closc behind him, was about to address the old woman in ? kinder way, for, like all his tribe, he stood in awe of her, but she had suddely vanished. He stopped and called her name, and, as he listened for a reply, the ominous hooting of an owl came back from a distant grove. "Huh, let us go on. She is a devil," 6aid the chief. The men grunted, to indicate that they had heard him, but made no other reply. They were not sure that. Uncas wus right and the old priestess wrong. Though very old in years and worn in body, the old negress possessed a vitality that, for endurance, would have tested the superb chief now striding on in silence. This was one reason why the Montauks held her in awe; aud then she never complained of ache, or showed sisn of sickness, which was eminently proper, seeing that she claimed to havo the power to cured, or relieve all human lils. At the close of her weird denunciat on of the chief, she sprang lightly to ane side, as the hare does when the hounds are close behind, and there, hidden by the darkness, she remained till the Indians had passrd. Dinah chuckled to hercelf at the success of her stratagem, and, rising, quiokly, ^he followed the three men with a step lighter tkas thoir own, and afc a pace that kept tftetn at one distance Between her eyes and the light. She watched 1'ncas, till he entered the house to which Colonel Graham and his servant had been recently changed. Tt was n loc structure with open chinks, very favorable for one outside t to listen. ( t The chief went up to the couch on which Colonel Graham was stretched. Such men find sleep a difficult matter. The Colonel was on the point of i shouting for his servant, who was sleepi ing in a little hut adjoining, when, by the light of a shell lamp, burning on a bench near by, he saw Uncas appro&oh; ing. i "Well, worthy chief," said Graham, i rising on his elbow, "do you also find It hard to sleep?" "One should not sleep when there is great work to do," replied Uncas, as he sat on the bench, and took the shell lamp in his hand. "That is mo6t true; but you look as it you had been out in the storm," "And so I have." "I did not know that the Montaufes loved the storm. You would make a good sailor." "Many of the Montauks and our neighbors, the Shinicooks, are sailors; but I should not like it. Yet I was up to-ni?ht at the beacon hill looking for ships." "Looking for 6hips?" repeated the Colonel, sitting bolt upright In bed, and rubbinar his eyes. " "TooSfrig Tor tne wanderer," said Un~ cas, gazing at his guest out of his halfclosed eyes, without seeming to do so. "But what interest can you have in the Wanderer?" "I know her captain, and want to see him again." "You may never see him again." "I shall see him to-morrow." "What!" exclaimed Graham, startled and doubting. "The Wanderer is at anchor Inside tho point." "Who told you that?" "I saw her with my own eyes." "But how could you tell it in the darkness, that the ship was the Wanderer?" "I couldn't, if the officer, 3 mean Fox, had not come ashore." "And you saw Fox to-night?" said the incredulous Graham.' "I did, and spoke with him." "And where Is he now?" "On the beach, waiting for my return." "And you told him I was here?" j "I did." "What did he say?" "He said that he was going through our lands to Sag Harbor in the morning, and that h? would see you on the way," replied the chief, now as cool ae the other was agitated. "And did he show any surprise or> learning that I was here?" < "I cannot say. Fox looks as if he waEt always surprised and determined never to be surprised again. Like the animal from which he takes his name, he is always looking about him, and ready to attack or run." "He is a brave man, and so never runs.* "The brave sometimes show their bravery by running; the man that never rims is a fool. But 1 must leave you if ? w/\nM olnon ?fvlii in hour it will be day." it'l bv. continued.] Minister Willis as ad Attorney. The death of Minister Willis, in Hawaii, has set Kentuckians here to story telling about him says a Washington correspondent of the New York Post. One of them describes an incident illustrative of his methods of trying a lawsuit before a jury. He was onoe attorney for a young woman in a case against a prominent and wealthy contractor of Louisville. The case attracted much attention and the court | room was crowded when the trial way ou. The contractor took the stand, and being of an easy conscience, tried to swear the case out of court. Then Wiilis roso in behalf of the young woman. He did not seek to cross-examine the witness. He turned to the great crowd of spectators and at random singled out a mau in the front row. "Stand up and get sworn where yon stand," said Willis to the astonisiied spectator. "Do you know the defendant ?" "Yes," answered ttie spectator. "Do yon know his reputation for truth and veracity?" "Yes." "Is it sood or bad?" "Bad." "Would you believe him under oath?" "No." Then Willis called on another spectator to stand up and be sworn, with similar results. Thus he called on spectators at random, until he had eworn fifteen or twenty of them. They all agreed that the contractor could not be believed under oath. It was proof positive to the jury in impeaching the contractor, for it waB clear to every one that the witnesses had not been summoned for the purpose of impeachment. Willis won the case and secured a verdict of $20,000 against the defendant. Scientific Aspect ol Plnui Padding*. The preeent are the days of darkness and doubt, when deadly germs have been proved to lurk on ail hands mii oof OTIH in what wn rlfirilr Science has warned us off with emphatic voice from uncooked saveloys, from ice creams, from underdone pork, and from a good many other more or less toothsome delicacies. It has shown that tinned meats and stale soup often spell poison in large lettors, and that ordinary filters are no better than so many death-traps. In the midst of all of these disquieting dangers it is pleasant to bo ablo to say a good word on behalf of our old friend the English plum pudding. Properly made and properly cooked, it undergoes complete sterilization in the boiler, and can then bo kept for a year and a day in a dry place, not only without being a bit the worse, but even with absolute advantage to its flavor and general attractiveness, Indigestible it may be to the stomachs of our weaker brethren, but dangerous, never. With confidence, then, all halesome folk, whether in the jjreen bud or the sore and yellow leaf, have our sanction to indulge discreetly in this most sweet and seasonable dish.?Medical Press. Cost of Embalming in Paris. Testimony in a reccnt suit in a Paries court developed the fact that a fashionable undertaker's charge for embalming the body of an American is $000. The charge for embalming Mom Podro was $1000, and for the King of Hanover S2000. ? I * aMaMHHMHaHaaanaBMkJMaHnBi TMLFGIOUS READING." I SAHBATII I'ESECRATION. A? an illustration of the harm done by Sabbath desecration. Mr. Moody told a story of the downfall of a young man. an incident ?hiit had com? tinder his own observation. One of his friends, he said, had a confidential clerk, who had been trained in his New England home to regard Sunday as a day of rest and worship. The employer said one Saturday that he wished the young man to come down tho next day and help him straighten out his books. The cierk colored a little, and said that he would be glad to work until midnight Saturday, and to be down shortly after midnight on Sunday, but that be did not wish to work on Sunday. The employer overpersuaded him. however, and in three years the clerk was a defaulter for $120,000. The employer went across the sea and brought him home, and ?ent him to the penitentiary for eight years. ' In mv opinion." said Mr. Moody, ''the thief was tho better man of the two.*' He UTgeil U|IUIJ luo JJOMfJIC iu umitc uuuu>; .. holy (lay and not u holiday, and said that unless the workingmen stood up for a day of rest it would not be long before it would be not a day of recreation, but a day of labor for the workwoman. A PRATER. Lord of heaven and earth, we bless thee that heaven and earth are always named together in thy Book. In tb?s beginning God created the heavens and the earth; a:ad Jesus said. Father, Lord of heaven a:ad earth. Teach us that we belong to one another, and we belong to God : give us the joy of. fellowship ; deliver us from :he idea or* self-completeness; give us to feel that all thou bast made is one. Thus shall our lives be godly: thus shall we live the Christ life. He savetb others, himself he did not save. He liveth for men and women tuid little children, and he made all the poor his friends, find sent the rich empty away as they came. We bless thee for this Son ol Man. God the Son, the Eternal Wonder, the Unspeakable Joy. He promised to irive ue rest if we would come to him and he promised to give us strength wherewith to i/ome. So all things are of grace. We bless thee, therefore, that though we can do nothing. we can do ail things through Christ which strengthened us. May we always await the incoming strength, and thereby glorify thee, through Christ, our Lord Amen. SUFFERING AND SORROW. In suffering and scrrow God touches the minor chords, develops the passive virtues, and opens to view the treasures of darkness the constellation of promise the rainbow of hope, the silver light of the covenant. What is character without sympathy, submission. patience, trust ana nope inat grips tbe unseen as an anchor '< But these graces are only possible through sorrow. Sorrow is a garden, the trees of which hie laden with the peaceable fruits of righteousness: do not leave it without bringing them with you. (Sorrow is mine, tbe walls cf which glisten with precious stones; be sure and do riot retrace your steps into daylight without some specimens. Sorrow is a school. You are sent to sit on its bard benches and learn from its blacklettered pages lessons whkh will make you wise forever ; do not trifle a way your chance cf graduating there. MissHavergal used to tain of "turned lessons."?ftev. F. 13. Meyer mit. jjoory or; walking with ood. In explaining tho Christian life. Mr. Moody said that it was important that God's will should be known. For this purpose the Bible was given, and if a person studied the Bible diligently he would know the will of Uod. J'fce reason tnnt mere is irouuie aoa 6C>rrow among Chrietinns its duo ehiefly to their ignorance of tho Bible. If a man ie gcing to California, he said, he will study the railway guide to find out what train to " take, the cities through which he will pass, etc. Christians should be as wise in their journey to the better land. Until a man was a believer in Christ he could not walk with God. The child must be born before he can walk. The Christian must walk with God. not contrary to His will. MY. Moody said that he was often asked to write in birthday books and autograph albums, and he usually wrote Psalm lxxxiv. 11: "No good thing "will lie withhold from them thutwalk uprightly. One's danger of misreading the signals along bis personal lile-course is no Jess in the moral world than in the physical. Man's conscience, like a ship's com pats, should be corrected according 1o ft divine standard. It must be set right by comparison with the true standard of the Sun of Itighteousness. rated frequently by the Bible record, ana guarded watchfully, lest by careful usage its accuracy be lost and the soul in midocean be without a guide. Unless you know how much your conscience chronometer , slows or quickens in the various latitudes where you sail, you will never be able to le&rn your bearings accurately or to lay your course correctly.?Hi nry Clay Trumbull. mere is an oia lauie mai auoe iijiu xjjui but one eye used to graze near the sea : and i in order to be safe, ste kept her blind eye toward the water, from which side she expected no danger, while with the good eye she watched the coui.try. Some men, per- . ceiving this, took a boat and came up on her from the sea and shot her. With her dying breath, she said : Oh : hard fate ! that I should receive my death-wound from that side whenco J expected no harm, | and be safe in J he part where I looked for most danger." i Let danger and need drive you closer to God. He never slum ters or sleeps. Mid in 1 Jiis keeping you wiil ie safe. Seize hold of i Him in prayer. "Wa:ek and pray."--D. L. Moody. i Can we find any room for regret in the year which has gone away from us into the vast accumulations of the past if it lias been tilled with new aud bitter experience ? Who can say that the ministry of suffering was ; not infinitely greater than the ministry o 1 jov V Tiie blight as well as the blossom J _! -I? /- , J. Ill ..-,1 II ?!...? iL l.ie ..1?? io I WUriiW uuu o vyjjj auu aj< iimii ic uic puu -o best for us even if we could not realize it at the time. Looking backward over the year we commit it to him with itc failures, its joys, its sorrows.to be taken into his tender keeping,garnered into the harvest of the years that are "past.?M. 1?. 1'. i No man ever yet asked to lie. ai- the days pass by. more and more noble and sweet and j pure and hoavenly-iniuded?nc man ever yet ( i.niyeu ihtu tin; evil spirits of hatred and pride an 1 passion and worldliness might b>3 cast out of his. soul?without his petition being granted to the letter. And with all other gifts God then /rives us his own self > li-sidt-s. He makes us know him and love ' him and live in him.?F. W. Farrar. Interpose no barrier to God's mighty life- 1 giving power, working in vcu all the good ' pleasure of his will. Yield yourself up utterly ' to his sweet control. Put your growing into ' his bauds as completely as you have put all 1 other affairs. Suffer him to manage it as he J will. 1><> not eoneern yourself about it nor ' even think of it. Trust bin. absolutely and ' always.?H. W. S. f We must not spend all our lives in clean- t itig our wi idows, but in sunning ourselves t in God's blessed light. That light will soon show us what still needs to be cleansed, and t will enable us to cleanse it with unerring ' accuracy.?lie v. F. B. Meyer. > When prayer brings no solace to your j TT'.ury heart try prune. Wants Iinmi?jr;mtH for Canncln. Rlr Donald Smith, the Canadian High ( ] Commissioner, has begun an exhaustive inquiry into the places of origin of English emigrants who go to Anioric;., with the view of diverting as many as possible of the desir- I able ones to Canada. In order to assist < such a movement he has now arranged that j more effective publicity bo given to intend- j Ing emigrants of tho advantages of Canada. i I Gotham's Mo*t Vnlniibiel'roperty. i The fifteen-story sky-scraper, tho Syndl- ' late Building, in New York, was sold at ' auction, a few days ago, for 32,503,291.58. ' It is the mo9t valuable property ever sold i under the hammer in the metropolis. 1 ' "sabbath school INTERNATIONAL LESSON FOR FEBRUARY 7. Lescon Text: "True and False Giving-" Acts iv., 312-37; v.. 1-11 ?Golden Text: 1 Samuel xvi., 7?Commentary. 32. "And the multitude of them t'uat believed were of one heart and of one soul." It was a whole hearted surrender to Christ of all they were and all they had: a full recognition that thoy were not their own, but bought with a price to be a special people unto the Lord (I Cor. vi., 19, 20; Titus ii., 14). This was as truly the work of the Holy Spirit as was tne boldness of Peter and John before the council, or their boidness in verse 31. Imagine the financial condition of the churches and missionary societies if all Christians would say, "Whatover the Lord wants of me or mine Ho is welcome to, for all I am and have is surely His." 33. "And with great power gave the apostles witness of tne resurrection of the Lord Jesus and great grace was upon them all." Tho grace was the grace of God, and tne power was tne spirit 01 t*oa. "ko: Dy might, nor by power, but by My Spirit, salth the Lord of Hosts" (Zech. iv., 6). 34, 35. "Neither was there any among them tbat lacked. Distrfbution was made to every man according as he had need." It is the" Lord's plan tbat those who are His and serve Him should lack no good thing (Ps. lxxxiv., 11; Math. vi.. 33; Phil, iv., 19; Lukexii., 85). Make thou His service thy delight; He'll make thy wants His care. In this case the supply came from the willing contributions of those who, having property, sold it and brought the proceeds to the apostles. When the tabernacle was built, the superabundant supply came from the willing offerings of the people (Ex. xxxvi., 5-7); but whether in these ways, or by ravens, or by increase of oil or meal, God will supply His people's need, 86,37. "And Joses, having land, sold it and brought the money and laid it at the apostles' feet." Here is one example of the many who did thus. His other name, Barnabas (son of consolation), was certainly true of him when he stood by Saul at the time the other disoiples were afraid of him. (Actsix., 2C, 27). Chapter v.. 1, 2. "But a certain man named Ananias, with Sapphira, h'.E wife, sold a possession and kept Dack part of the price." These were professedly followers of Christ and perhaps "really so; but, like so many to-day, they were not whole hearted in service. They saw others selling property and giving the proceeds to the apostles for the genercl good, and they seemed to do like the others, not thinking tnat God saw their hearts and their dishonesty. They did not act upon the precept, "Whatsoever ye do, do it heartily as to the Lord, and not unto men." Nor did they think of the eyes of the Lord beholding the evil and the good CCol. ill.. 23; Prov. xv., 3). 3. ''But Peter said, Ananias, why hath satan filled thine heart to lie to the Holy Ghost?" When any one receives Christ, the Holy Spirit is given to instruct, guide and control in all things that life, and when there is complete submission to the Spirit there will be a life greatly to the glory of God, but when the old life?the flesh, the carnal mind? wbioh still remains in the believer is allowed to have its evil way?for it is only evil?then the Spirit is grieved (Eph. iv., 29-32). 4. "Tbou hast not lied unto men, but unto God." Here is a proof of the oneness of the Faiher and the Spirit; to lie to the one is to lie to the other. The property was Ananias's and the proceeds ot the property when sold were his also, and he was at liberty to ffivo to God all or part or none without committing sin, but to profess to give all and yet give only a part was a lie. We are saved freely through Christ without money or price. We are then to remember that we are bought with a price, the precious blood of Christ, and yield fully to Him for His service (Rom. xiL, 1), but it must be honestly and cheerfully done to be acoepted. 5, 6. "And Ananias, hearing these words, fell down and gave up the ghost." Instant death for a lie. This seenis very severe, but it was evidently, in the sight of God, a neces sary discipline lur lilt) uouevera. ? I?uum conclude that this man and his wife were out and out hypocrites and lost souls without concluding that all who to-day keep back part of the prico are aJso lost souls, ana If that be so what a list of profebsors are lost! If all such shoul-J be cut off as these two were, there would not be undertakers onough to see to the burying. 7. "And it was about the space of three hours after when his wife, not knowing what was done, came in." Shn did not know that Bho was a widow; she did not know that her guilt had been found out; she probably camo looking for ner husband. She on me knowing in her heart that she was acting a lie as to the price of the property, but not knowing God's displeasure wilh such conduct. What a contrast there is in this "not knowing" to the "not knowing" of Abraham in vl a 8. "And Peter answered unto her, Tell mo whether ye sold the land for so much? And she said, Yea, for so much." Another lie, the Spirit grieved, loss incurred. Iho devil is tho father of lies, and thus early in the history of the church he got in bomu of his devilish work. He did some of tho same kind?I ruean lying?through Abraham and Sarah, Isaac and Rebekah, Jacob and Rachel, and if be never accomplished any through you, my friend, you have great reason to praise God for His grace which ha*} kept you. 9. "Then Peter eaid unto her, How is it that ye have ugreed together to tempt the bpirn 01 me j^orar ?yuri cuuairmuuuu must havo seized her as she heard the exposition of her guilt, and ia Peter's next words the tidings that her husbuDd was dead and buried, and that she must die too! What an awlul illustration of tho words in Num. xxxii., 23?"JBesurt your sin will Unci you out." May we keep in mind that God desires truth in tho inward parts, and let our hearts be saying.' '0 Lord, thou hast searched me and known me" (P3. JiM 6; cxxxix., 1). 10. ''Then fell she down straightway at his feot aud yielded up the ghost." Another example of God's hatred of deceit and lying. Thoso who make a practice of lying have reason to fear lest they finally find themselves in Rev. xxi.. 8. These two may have bean given to this sin ere they became nuin- I bored with the followers of Cnrist, and this may nave D?en me ursi vuiurciui uwuvcrsioD. 11. "And great fear eamn upon all the 2hurch. and upon as many ns heard these I things. Wo are to servo the Lord with fear nnrt rejoice with trembling, and also to work out our own salvation with fear and trembling (Phil. ii., 12), not a fear of belay lost, 3ut a fear of grieving the Holy Spirit.?L?s* jon Helper. TWO HUNDRED BURNED ALIVE. fracic Incident in a BntMe in the Philip, pines. The London Standard's Madrid dispatoh eports details of the disastrous defeat of he rebels in the Philippines. According to hese advices at tho battle of Bulnean, General Rose commandod the Spaniards. The "ebsls numbered 3000, and were intrenched )n the Cacaron Heights. The Spaniards atacked the treucheo with the bayonet and saptured a cartridge factory in addition to funs, etc. "During the pursuit." the Standard's dispatch continues, "tho rebels often pretended ;o be dead and afterward sprang up and atacked the Spaniards in the rear. "At one place tho Spaniards, suspecting bat the insurgents had hidden in the rashes, set fire to thom aud 200 perished in he flames. Telegrams of congratulations to ,/aptain-General Polivieja,'in the name of !he Queen Regent and the Government, mvo been dispatched," X-RAYS TEST ARMOR PLATE. Machine Exhibited Which Will Penetrate Four Inches of Solid Iron. A powerful X-ray machine, constructed :>y Professor R. A. Pessenden, of the Western University, was on exhibition before the Academy of Science aud Art at Carnegie ilttll, Pittsburg, Ponn. Professor James K-;eler, of the Alleghany ibsorvatory, in tolling of the wonderful ests which the machine has been put to, iaid that it had already thrown a ray of Ight through four inches of solid iron, and :ie thinks later on it will be developed so hat it will pierce six or eight inches. He ntimated strongly that it may yet be utilized in inapectionn)fjhrmor plate. ' V 7?.' x' '> ' - i TEMPERANCE. IMPORTANT TO DRINKERS. .a woo wuo urmxs wmssy may ieei awune frisky. And pmnt the town brilliantly red; But soon in the cutter with misery utter Ho will curse and wish himself dead. A man who <1 rinks brandy may feel like a dandy, As long as the smell's on his breath; But soon in the tremens, snakes, bogies and demons Will chase him and scare him death. A man who drinks wine may feel very fine, And play funny antics and shout; But for it he'll pay with headaches next day. And die when he's young, from the gout. A man who drinks pin with pleasure will prin, And have what he calls a good time; Till with a red nose and dirty old clothes He, homeless, will beg for a dime. A man who drinks beer feels good for a year, And thinks it don't hurt him a bit; Till, bloated and red, he goes to his bed, A- A.I. - i - .. 1 \/r iuiitt uu iuc aircoi IU a in. But he who drinks water, as every one oughter, Enjoys to the utmost his life: He's happy and healthy, respected and wealthy, And loved by bis children and wife. ?H. C. Dodge, in the Chicago Sun. HIBTOBY OF F0UB DRINKS. In an exchange we find the following testimony of n thoughtful policeman, who was Inclined to look below the misery and crime . which came in his way to flnl their cause. He says: I was once standing In front of Tuft's saloon, when the barkeeper set down a blue bottle rtn the counter and said, "There are just four drinks In that." It occurred to me I'd like to trace up them four drinks?where luey wem uou wiiui mey uiu. Well, a woman got the first glass. She wasn't an old woman, nor used to whisky; about thirty years old, and been pretty once, and accustomed to having a gay time, I suppose. She was on Her way home from her hard day's work, tired and cold, and the whiskf wa? a temptation. It would take the place ot the dance and theitre and fun. She tujned down the bystreet and stopped at the door of a saug little house. I knew her husband. Crafts, the carpenter, a c*heerfal, hard-working fellow. He openea the door and her baby ran out to meet ner. She struck it down to the ground with an oath. Her husband looked at her and fell back, as though he, too, had been struck. Then he picked up the child and carried it into the pretty, warm room. I saw the mother lying stretohed across the hearth a9 though she was dead. The second drink out of the bottle, the barkeeper told me, was given to old Stacy. He is nearly seventy and soaked with liquor; blood, stomach and brain poisoned witn it There's not a healthy atem of flesh loft in his body, not a good feeling in his heart, nor manly thought in his head. This drink only helped, with all the river that he has drunk, to kill him surely inch by inch. Buy tbis time i had got back to the saloon, and in a few moments I saw a young man named Waters stop for the next. He had been drinking already.. I ci lied to him. I ncorl fr> lrnnvtr Wufara n. vnnnc clflrlr with ft I good salary, had a nice little home, and ptetty wife aud babies. He's quarrelsome in drink, and a glass or two upsets him. "Waters," I said, "don't drink that; you have had enough." But he laughed, took his drink, and went down the street. A few minutes later I heard a row and followed him. He had picked a quarrel with one of his friends and shot him dead. Waters was sentenced to ten years; his home was broken up; his wife takes in washing to keep her children from starving. There was one drink left in the bottle. An hour later a young lad came in, a brtKhtfaced boy, the son of Dr. Bunker. He's about sixteen now. I've watched him grow up since be was a baby in bis pretty lace dresses. I know what he is to bis mother. They have but this one child. I think they never hear of a good or great man that they do not fani;y Jim will be like him. He tossed off the drink and went down the street, with a red face and leering, stupid eyes. He is on the same road as Waters and old Stacy. They aro a little ahead of him. I only traced up those four drinks; but I know there is not a drop of liquor which goes out of Tuft's saloon which does not help to carry discomfort, ill-temper, misery, disease, poverty ana disgrace into some wretched, unfortunate home. THE ALCOHOL TEBROB. France, for reasons hygienic and fiscal, is I struggling witn me uquor-iramc prouiem. Reports of physicians,insine-asylum officials, and statisticians have frightened many public men and writers of France with tal 23 of ravages caused by the abuse of alcoholic beverages. ani especially by the evils effects of alcohol from wood, potatoes, and other substances which are used for adulteration. For sometime a project has been under consideration to prohibit the sale of these deleterious alcohols and to restrict also the sale of wine made from the dried grape or raisins. This has already receiyed?the sanction of the President. France now proposes at least to investigate thoroughly the system of state monopoly of manufacture, rectification. and sale. In other European states decided steps have been taken in this direction. Switzerland since 18S6 has exercised a monopoly of all sales of industrial alcohols, leaving free the distillers of wines and indigenous fruits. Russia i9 the latest to adopt the monopoly system.?The Pathfinder. CLEAR THINGS FOR LITTLE READERS. It is very clear that if I never drink intoxicating liquors I shall never become a drunkard. It is very clear that if I nover use intoxicating drink I shall never be guilty of help j ing to make others drunkards. It Is very clear that it I never go intc drinking companies, I shall escape many ol the temptations and snares that are laid fo> the young. It is very clear that if I drink intoxicating liquor frequently, I may learn to like it, and bo become a drunkard. It is very clear that moderate drinking is the fountain from whioh all drunkenness flows, the school in which all drunkards are trained. It is very clear that if there was no moderate drinking there would be no drunkenness. It is very clear that if the drunkard would be reclaimed he must abstain from that whict bas made and that which keeps him r drunkard. i'on two reason's. For two reasons every conscientious youn<? man ought to plodge himself to total abstinecco. Fiist, for his own sake, for h? doesn't know how soon ho may become e tippler. Secondly, for the sake of otherf whom he may tempt to ruin by his example. The reform of inebriates is difficult and rare. The one time to stop drinking treacherou; j intoxicants is to stop belore you begin. SIMrLT ArPALLINO. The use of intoxicating liquor brings no benefit whatever to him who uses it, said I Archbishop Ireland, but how much money is constantly spent for it by tbe working man! I know tho need he has for these dollars, and yet in the country at large the amount spent yearly is simply appalling. How many would be in comfortable circumstances but for this money spent in drink! Far better indeed did thoy burn the suma Tbe saloon-keeper is tho hardest taskmaster. The moment people take tho pledge thej learn the value of money, and afterward learn to work for themselves and not the saloon-keeper. temperance news and note5. Whisky that will cook an egg will cook ? stomach. Fill man with whisky, and he can give th< pig points. When women in high life give wine partiei tho devil examines his coal bins. The poor drunkard, seeing double, think.* himself rich when ho counts his money, bui he soon discovers his poverty. Man is said by one oi our exchanges to resemble a fish in this that, like a ilsb, h( would never get into very serious trouble iJ he kept his mouth shut. The old question, "which Is the mightier, the pen or the sword?" is fast becoming obsolete. The fact is neither seems to be "it it'' with tho whisky bottle, remarks the Index. mm ' HOUSEHOLD MATTERS. M ET7BT ON STOVES. M While the stove is cold rub all dtwt off with a cloth well saturated with ','h kerosene oil, then rub dry; then take*|i the marrow Jrom a beef bone (or snet 1 will do), rub all over with the marrow. \ If not in use leave the marrow on 4 quite thick, and it will not rnst if put J away. If Btove is in nse, after yon -J( mnlrp fiTA falra nonor onrl rnh H^TT. " * ? ?j Open window and let the smoke out. A good polish, if rubbed on occasion-?"'" ally, is a sure cure for rust. Try it. , * PLT7CKINQ CHICKENS. Plnclun# fowls may be easiljA find quickly accomplished in this way: As soon as the bird is dead immerse it in a pail of very hot water, \the water to cover all the feathers. One minute is usually loag enough to keep the fowl under hot water; too look soaking is liable to discolor the skin. After this hot bath the feathers are e? loosened that they can almost bA rubbed off. The biid is then lineedV in cold water and wiped with a soft V olotb. It should then be pat into ft L cotton bag kept for this purpose and 1 hung in a cool plaee. When fowls nro nnf fn lie nodi) of nnno fV>*vtr thnnld always* be loosely rolled in cloth or paper to keep them from turning dark. Ducks cannot be managed in this way, as their feathers contain so much oil that the water doea not penetrate them. ? - V, TO BOAST BEEF. . \ : Pat the joint in a big dripping pan. A Bub the sides of the roast well with salt. Sprinkle the top of it with salt / and pepper and place it in a hot oven,' Ij the ribs next to the pan and blanket [side np. Do not put one drop of water ^ in the pan. - ' After the beef is brown baste it occasionally with its own drippings. Allow a quarter of an hoar's roasting ' to each pound of beef in a hot oten ; this will make the beef medium raxe. Serve on a hot platter and carve with a sharp, long, thin beef carver. . There is no mistake about beef roasted in this way. You will know N what you are eating every time. The ; most perfeot ovens of the present day and the nearest approach to the ancient spit is the gas oven. Beef'or any moof vnootnr] nnrlor f)iA flfaa^v flamft 1U?BV A. VUUIIVU UUV4VA VUV HVVHWJ ?I?*UV , of a gas oven is as near perfect as any roasting can be. V; ''J$$ The tenderloin of the beef, so largely need for the hotel and restaurant filet, is really the poorest part of the > beef. It has less flavor and lew nowfr iehment,?New York Journal ? M SAVING THE DRIPPINGS. The fat from corned beef is not Ia molrA svrtrk/3 drinr.in nru 4. puccu liu Uinao gvuu is really one of the best things frying purposes. The praotioal hoqHHfl -wife does not empty the water which the corned beef has been boila^H as soon as the meat has beep. takd^H out, bat she sets away the pot untiVH cold, and then removes the crust of^H pure grease that has collected. ;It i&aa most excellent fat for frying potatoea^H or meat, and is very good for shortening tea bisouits. 99 In boiling fresh meats the same^B plan should be followed, and the fat<H should be carefully skimmed from ijhe jH top of the water when cold, as'with v the corned beef, and saved for oooking purposes. , The surplus fat from fries should be poured off into the dripping enp be- , fore putting in the flour to make the * browned gravy. be In roasting meat, if it is at all fat, pour the grease oat of the pan several times daring the roasting process before it gets burned. Thin, and the fat pouTed from the fries, will make clear. . drippings; bat that from boiled zceate should be "tried out" and skimmed before using.?Home Queen. RECIPES. \ Salmon Croquets?Into a pint of ~i Bechamel sauce crumb two pounds of cold boiled or canned salmon, freed from skin and bone; mix with a wood- , en spoon, and wh6n very hot and thiok enough to hold together, turn out in a flat dish to cool; mold into croquetp, dip in egg and orambs and fry. Place the croquets on a bed of thoroughly mashed potatoes on a warm platter and sprinkle over all a little minced parsley. Lemon Mince Pie?Chop three large ap-nles with four ounces of beef suet; squeeze the juice from a lemon and boil the lemon in a capful of water ? *'1 tKan mooVt it. and Add to the apples with the water it was boiled in; put in half a pound of currants, six ounces of white sugar and one j ounce each of candied orange and cit- J ron; line plates with nice puff paste, l fill with the meat, cover with paste 1 and bake. Enough for two delicious ' pies. ' Cold Savories?The day previous ! cook a large chicken, one weighing four or five pounds. The water in J whioh it is boiled will be used for the cream of the lettuce soup, and the meat for the croquets, the salad and the savories. Mince fine the meat for the savories, mix with a thick tartare of mayonnaise sauco, and spread rounds of cold bread with it. Garnish each slice with a stoned or staffed olive. These can be made of cold game, lobster or 6hrimp. Cocoannt Biscuit?Take a laige cocoannt and grate it very finely. For every quarter of a pound of cocoannt allow half a pound of finely sifted white or powdered sugar, and the whites of four beaten to a iirm froth. Mix the ingredients thoroughly, try baking one; ami flour if it is too soft, and drop little balls of paste upon a wellbuttered baking tin, about two inches distant from each other. Bake in a gentle oven until the biscuits are . lightly browned all over. They will require from fifteen to twenty minutes. Cheese Salad?Use for thia salad four hard-boiled eggs, two cupfule of cheese grated line, one teaspoonful of mustard, one-fifth teaspoonful of cayenne, a small toaspoouful of salt, four . tablespoonfuls of saiad oil, four of vinegar and one and a half cupfuls of cold chicken chopped rather coarse. ^ i Bub the yokes of eggs to a smooth paste; add the oil gradually, stirring ? constantly with a fork, then add the fl seasoning. Mix the cheese and chicken I lightly with this dressing and heap tbe < mixture on a pretty dish. Garnish with the whites of the eggs, cnt in J circles, and a few white celery leaves j or springs of parsley. > v J j t-\rv0g i