Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page. It is also available as plain text as well as XML.

?1 1 CHAPTER XXI?Continued. Dinah pointed her staff in the direotioD she wished them to take; but Old Somonk, the only one that was not in an attitude to start right off, called out: 'We were left here by the chief, end told to stay a6 we value our lives. "Bold!"cried Untllla in clear, silvery tones. "Uncas, chief of the llontauks, Is at thi6 moment in tho settlements of the whites, and he cannot command, i am hie sister; I am Vntilla, a descendant of the mighty Wyandauch, and, in my brolher's absence, my word is law. 1 oommand you to leave here at once, And open not your lips about what has happened till my brother or 1 bid you speak." While ITntilla was speaking, Old Somonk's wife secured her pot; and now ehe headed the procession that marched off at the bidding of the princess. The Indians were out of sight in a few minutes, and then Dinah's manner changed like magic. f|M ? r\r<incff.cc VlJlfl J lit} irUJJl>IUgC> VI answered her purpose, so she threw thein off, and. going to the vault, the seized the flat stone that answered for a door, and rushed in. Untilla was close behind her. The light wus dim. a6 compared with the glariEg sunlight without, but was still suffic ient to enable them to distinguish the bed. and on it the form of a man. "We must get 'im out, honey," said Dinah. "Tink ye kin lift tie half?" "Yes, Dinah: if ne<>d be, I can carry him alone," replied I'ntilla. One seized the head of the bed and the other the foot, and in s few minutes they had carried Kalph Den ham from the vault and placed him in the shadow of a tree. * ' * t- ~ ~ 1A witn amazing quicKiioi-t>, iuu uiu vofflan drew the cover from his face. Except that it had a flushed, pained expression, as of one trying to break a pond by a tense physical effort, or to rally failing memory by an effort o!' will, It looked very natural. ' Dinah was now all activity. She tore open his coat and underclothing, till his white breast was exposed, and against this she pressed the sido of her face, Increasing its blackness by the strange contrast. She remained in this attitude so long that Untilla, unable to suppress her anxiety, called out: "Dinah, Dinah! tell me if ho will live?" "He 'pears strong, but he's droogid. Ha, I knowed he was droogid, or dead." "And he'll live. Dinah?" "Untilla was beside him, chafine the ?J 1 3 4k/v V?Y*/"? ri r,o/l BtrULlg XiUIiU, W1HUU LUC7 OUU Aic*\4 W4v*iti\.u to a hue much darker than her own. : "We'll fotch '1m to. Doan't skeer, hongy. Dr. Hedges he sez Dinah's sham; now you see wat Dinah know." The old woman removed tho white turban from about her head, and handing It to Untilla. told her to wot it at a neighboring spring, and then fasten It about the captain's brow. While Untilla was doing this, Dinah took off Ralph's shoes and stockings, and running back to the fire, took therefrom the pot of herbs. Tearing off part of her dress, just as II she carried it for surgical purposes, Dinah tooK tne nert>6, now Bteaimng hot, and tk.und them about the captain's feet. He moved as if the heat gave him pain, and he heaved a long sigh. Dipping one of the unused herbs in the liquor in the pot, Dinah skillfully pressed open the Captain's mouth and teeth, and, by means of the moistened herb, slowly dropped several spoonfuls of the liquor into his mouth. To her great joy, sho saw by the movements of his throat that he was swallowing, find that with each effort the pained, intense expression on his face gave way to one of peaceful rest. /v 1*Anf i?r-v 1 Vi nlr offrvptfc fnr nn iumr ? I1CJ ncpl UK i u\.a to ? uiii.vui, when Dinah said: "Now let him rest a wile." "And then you think he will be better'-* "Don we can wake 'em an gib 'im euthin' to eat. Massy, won't 'e be a'prised when 'e does wake up en see whar 'e ez." They walked back to the fire, and Dinah took 'rom the bottom of the wonderful basket some large green leaves. Inside of which were a trout and a fat woodcock, both ready for tbe fire. Now, honey," said Dinah, pointing to the articles of food, "dem tiugs'll teste better ef you cook "em." "But -will Kalnh be able to eat?" "A iran ez can't eat ain't got long to lib; we'll tempt 'im, lioney," replied Dinah. The old woman lit a short black pipe and smoked while 6he watched the beautiful Indian girl preparing the meal for Kalph Denham. When the woodcock and trout were done to a turn and placed on the corn oake which answered for an edible dish, Dinah knocked the ashes from her pipe and said, a6 she rose briskly to her leev: "Now I'll see 'o 'e 'pears." Urtilla watched the old woman, and In her anxiety whs about to follow, when she saw Ralph's hand thrown up and pressed to his eyes, as when men rouse from a long sleep. Ee'ore Dinah could reach him, Ralph Denham wa3 sitting up. Then h? turned his head, looked about him, anc pressed his hands to nis eye9, as lr tc stop the dream that haunted him lntc wakefulness. ' The old woman, with that rare penetration that distinguished her, divined the trouble. Running up to Ralph fron behind, she laid both hands on his shoulders, and said, in her most cheerful accents: " 'Taict a dream, Rnlph Den'am; yei heah wid me en I'ntilla. Ye bin rackt. Wait till I put on yer t-hoes en stocktn's, en I'll tell ye 'bout it." Sho could not have lit on more appropriate words. Ralph Denham, in hia own sea experience, had known ?if men who lay down calmly in bunk or hammock on shipboard, and woke up 011 <1 Btr.inge strand with strange feces about them. Men, who frequently act bravely and conspicuously on occasions of great danger, have not the slightest recollection of their acts, whru the danger and y excitement are over. Something Ike this flashed through Ralph Denham's mind, as with his eyes closed he threw himself hack on his couch, while Dinah put on his shoes and stockings. "Last night I took too much wine on the Wanderer. She must huvo been wrecked off Montuuk Point, after the rudder was repaired, and in so ne way I wad rescued; and here I am among old J irlends." i J . / A ' "l)ar, de shoes am on," said Dinah gleefully. "Now, try en walk to de fiah whert' I'ntilla's got somethin' to eat." Dinah gave him her hand, and h< grasped it in affection, rather than witJ any thought of wanting its support. He was stiff and sore, and when hi gained his feet, he staggered, andwouh have fallen, had not a lithe, strong forri 1 sprang to his side, and thrown one arn about him. "Untilla," he whispered. "God blesi you, Untilla!" They led him over near the fire, am made him sit down, with his back to i tree. "Where are the rest?" he asked glancing about him, with an expression half-awe, half-wonder, on his handeottx face. "Am I the sole survivor? Hot did I get here?" "Wait, honey, en arter a bit I'll tol< ye. But-now I'll 6ay dat de Fader of d< Jan' en water, en of all de worls, d< Fader dat save ye from de waves in d< pas', hez now saved ye from de chie! of de Montauks," said Dinah, standing behind him, and smoothing back hit * v 1 J curiy Drown nair. out' m?u it when it hung in golden ringlets to hif shoulders, in the days beyond his mem' ory, in that other Long Island that waf his home. "The Wanderer is wrecked,'' he saic looking appealingly at Untilia, who wai fanning him with a bunch of gracefu ferns. "Not that; wait and we will tell you,' said I'ntilla. "But how did I come here? Speak, ! am strong enougn to near: or, 11 ^ui have aught to communicate, that yoi think would unnerve me at this time let me assure you that my anxiety t< hear it frets mo more keenly than aDy^ thing you can say." "I'll tell ye: but rnebbe fust it'd b< mo' bettah ef ye was to tell us all y< kin rekmimbah 6ense ye lef' Sag Har< bor on dat ship," said Dinah, squattin{ ornnnri whcro his eves coui( rf>8t oc her. Cnptain Denham stroked his fore> head, and briefly recounted everything up to the breaking of tne rudder ch-ait and his going to sleep. "Fn dat's all ye know?" "That'6 all, Dinah." "Den ye muo' hev bin a sieepm' nigf goin' on to six days." "What!" he exclaimed. "Of co-az we does not know; but I'l tell ye wot me en I'ntilla does know foh we've been watehin' foh dat ship t< come back, and I never 'spected she'c bring Kalph Den'am back to land." Then, with great precison. Dinal told all she knew, but she prefaced hei recital of the present case by telling Ralph the story of his early life, sub stituting, with nice art, another name and somewhat dissimilar oonditions. With rare skill, she told of the par Fox played, and how Uncas was to com plete hie work. "Without disclosing ner own sources of information?he could imagine then ?she told of everything that had transpired among the Montauks and a Bag Ilarbor, in which ho could have interest, up to the last night. "And you say a letter is 6aid to hav< been sent by me from New York to Saf Harbor, telling Mr. Hedges to turn ove: the command of the Sea Hawk to thii man?" asked Ralph, still pressing hit Dyes, as if determined, by will-power to dispel an illusion. "Dat is wot I say, en de "Wandrah'i now at Sag Harbor." "My God, the man's name can't b< Fox." "En it ain't," chuckled Dinah. "Hit name's Captain William Kidd." "Captain Kidd!" Ralph Denham's eyes flashed lik< Bre, and, with an energy that was miraculous, he leaped to his feet. 'Pat's de man; 1 know im." With -ut heeding Dinah's words, Ralpl Denham raised his flenched hands aDov< hi6 head and cried out: "Oh, I have been a blind fool. Wn^ did I not act on my suspicions, and no from the promptings of my heart? dreaded the. man, and yet I had n< proof. I must away at once. Tne Sei Hawk, my honor, must be saved, or ! die In the attempt." He would have dashed off throupl the woods at once, but Untilla raise< her hands before him and he stopped with his head bowed. "1 have a boat and strong roweri awaiting you beyond the cliff. Comi with us, and before the sun has beoi ; down an hour you shall be in Sag Har bor." "En Tncas 11 see a ghost. Ha, ha Wait, honey; ae ind ain't vet." Vnder the cliffs, about a mile fron this point, they found a canoe await-n/ tnein, manned oy six powerful Montaul rowers. Into this Ralph Denham got and Dinah and Untilla followed. CHAPTER XXII. SAO HARIiOK BECOMES WILPLY EXCITED A NO THE CONTAGION KSACHES TUB tilt KOUNM.NO ISLANDS. Captain Ralph Denham hhd pas9ei through an ordea! that would have uoti aivu uu viuvi) vt ivoo t igv/iwui man. Indeed, if it had not been i'o; the mental excitement under which h< was now laboring he could not hav< kept up. He sat back in the canoe, watching the rowers as, with regular sweep* they plied their paddles, and flew acro6i the shadows near the shore. Quick as was their speed, it was too slow fo him. At moments, he would close his eyes and try to reason that it was all a dream and that he would wake up to lind him self on board tfte Wanderer, in Kev York harbor, for it was expected th< 6hip would reach that port the morninj after leaving Montauk Point. But Dinah's voice, as she spoke in lov tones to Untilla, recalled him to a ful sense of the wakeful reality of his posi tion. Dlnah'6 voice, with her strange ac cent and earnest manner; it seemed U him that all his earliest recollection were associated with that voice Memory could not carry him back be yond a time when it was not familiar and often sincereachinc manhood,whei wondering if ever the veil would be lifte? from the mystery of his early life, th thought would come to him, and hi reason would weigh it and reject it, tha the old woman would explain it all. So great was the speed made by th rowers that before dark Kalph Denhar could see away to the westward the out lines of his own and Fox's ships. Shortly after dark the men at the pad dies, acting under the instructions o Untilla, directed their canoe into a littl cove and made a landing. "Why not keep straight on to th town?" asked Kalph. "Wait till I send back the canoe and will explain," replied Untilla. She went ba-k to the canoe, spoke t< the Montauks in their own language and they at once pushed out. the canoe and started back to the point from whicl thev had come. They were still on the land of th Montauks, and near by there was a fish ing hut which was frequently occupioi by the chief, 'i'o this iialplt Denliau followed Vntilla and old Dinah.. The place was provided with seat and a rude couch, and after carefull; closing the door Dinah made a light 01 the hearth, and said: I "It 'pears to me like ye don't seem to see a9 dar'6 a sight of trouble on han'." "I assure you, Dinah, I fully appreciate that, and hence my anxiety to get on board of mv ship," replied Ralph. "Now, jes' let me 'splain ow I feels 'boutdat," said the old woman, corang nearer, and adding force to her words ' by her quick, nervous gestures. "En > Vntilla, she'll bar me out in sayin' dat I'm jes' 'lout right. En wen ye've 3 heard me, den ef ye sez don't keer, I'6e 2 onv 'nw to v flftn vp'11 trn. f$\.IU WU.V. ~..J :j, O-' dat's all." I "Go on, Dinah; I will listen," said Ralj h. crossing his arms and letting his 3 chin rest on his breast. D Dinah used no long words; she only knew a few of that character, ard she E was never quite certain that the com, prehended the n. Now, she wanted Ralph ' Denham to understand her distinctly, 1 and not to be diverted from her reasoning by any unusual address in her ejieeoh. Her vocabulary was limited to words e of one nyllable, which she invariabiy S icnrnnnnn r<fl\ Shft KOpmfill tO Dreffer arranging them in ways that assured 5 their inaccuracy from a grammatical ? standpoint; yet she never left her h? ari er in doubt as to her meaning. ? Again she rehearsed all that had taken f place in Sag Harbor during Ralph's abJ sence. She showed him that his friends 3 believed he was in New York, that one 1 of_his foes at least?Colonel Graham? I believed that he was dead, and that the ' c>ther6 arrayed against him w?* ? sure he was in their power. , Dinah went on to show him that neither friend nor foe looked for him in , Sag Harbor, at this time, and that if he were to enter the towc at once, Fox, wno was in virtual ijuuiiimhu ui win 6hips, not only could, but would have r him killed at once, and 60 defeat the object, which Ralph himself had in view. This, and much more, she advanced, in her quick, earnest way. closing by ' saying that she and I'ntilla would to ' the town at once, find Mr. Hedces, and Valentine Dayton, quickly tell them the whole situation, and brinjj them to the Capiain, who, after a conversation with j them, would know how to act. < itaipn isennam was uuiiimg mm | anxiety to be away, yet he was impressed by Dinah's reasoning and lTritiila's pleadings; and he saw that they were right. | "Very well, how long will you be gone?" he asked. They told him they would return as soon as they found the officers they wont in search of; they would be back 1 by midnight, certainly by daylight. "But you leave me unarmed," he , said. "Ah!" exclaimed TJntilla, "I came near ' forgetting what has been on my mind | ever since we came here." She stepped on a bench, and reaching " ?l J- -1.-4. up to a iew uuarus m.vu juauo a iuug } loft above the fire-place, she brought I down a belt and handed it to Ralph. It contained two fine pistols, a dagger with a horn hilt, and pouches well filled ' witti powder and ball. . "You see." said Ralph, as he strapped the belt about his waist, "there is no knowing who may pay me a visit while you are gone." They assured him that there was no danger of any one's coming, and then J shaking his hand again and again, they left him alone in the hut. I TO HE CONTINUED. I J j A Desperate Situation. r In my younger days, 6ays an Oriental i traveler, I acquired a taste for country | 3 sports, and when I went to India, where field recreations were of a more serious kind, I soon beoarae expert at hunting j the jackal, leopard, and tiger; but it was not for a year that I tried my hand > at elephant hunting. When the eventful day arrived I was 3 assigned to an elephant, and when the party reached the grove Tagore, an expert elephant hunter, called my atten, tion to a tremendous fellow which we . at once attempted to capture. Allowing our trained elephants to attract the wild elephant's notice, Tagore skillfully j fastened a rope around his leg and to , a large tree, and then we retreated to the rear and waited for him to tire . himself out. Instead of that he broke t the rope an I mado for us; anrl, as my [ elephant stood stock still as if paralyzed j from fright, I promptly climhed into the t nearest tree, while Tagoro and the othI ers ran for their lives. I imagined that I w;:s secure for the time being; but. to y my horror, the elephant began to bat] ter the tree with his head, and with nt T n/io el v eViol/on t'UUl' ViVlVliW'C CJJttu X ??ao Jivuiij fliuuvu from my porch. Finding that I etill 3 clung on, the anirnai changed nis tacB tir.-s an 1 began tearing up the tree by ! the roots. I saw the tree would soon . fall, and could perceive no possibility of escape. , Finally, having loosened 1he roots, the beast again began to push again with his head, and I felt the tree yielding to j the pressure. I fairly shrieked in de* (-pair as I felt it falling, but to my ic1 expressible joy, the tree fell against a ' much larger one, and the topmost branches become entangled. I quickly scrambled into the new place of refuge, and then I think my nerves must have given w.iy, as I remember nothing more until I heard the sound of firing bel jw, . and found that Tagore and his men had returned to my rescue and driven away my besieger. Eut I have not cared to 9 i?li?nhnnto cinr?n that flsiv Snow Irrigation. 3 No doubt the recent famine in Russia , was principally due to want -of irriga' tion. The u9ual process of carrying j irrigation works Irom neighboring streams is too costly and slow, and ber fides is quite impracticable in South Kussia, on account of excessive email fall6 in all the rivers in this part of the ' country. The streams, moreover, have very little water during the summer 7 months, when the irrigation is princi9 pally wanted. Now in several parts of _ Siberia the water obtained from melt* ing snow is used for irrigation. The 7 climate of these parts is quite continental, with very hot, dry summer, a severe winter, with plentiful falls of 6now. The snow irrigation is managed in the following manner: At the first warm y winter day alter a plentiful snowfall, a the whole village, not excepting women and youngsters, meet at a previously 1 appo.nled spot in the field situated on a slope of a hill. One portion, consisting [I of strong men, collect and carry the ij snow to form a large banli, while otters e press the snow down and spread it 3 tveuly. This operation is repeated sevf. eral times during the winter, and by spring a large bank of compressed snow 0 is forme i, a dozen feet deep and weigha ing several hundred ti ns. With the . first approach of spring, the snow bank is covered with pine branches, straw . and dung; if such material is not at f hand, earth and sand are used as covd ering, but in tho latter easo the layer lias u> be about eighteen inches thick. 0 The same plan of irrigation would be quite applicable to Kussia, aud lor 1 countries where snow falls in abundance. For regulating the flow of water 0 from melting snow in tho bank, a ditch , is managed on the lower side of the ' bank with two openings, one ?o be used l) ns an overflow, in case the water is not wanted for irrigation, the other leads to 0 tho irrigation ditch distributing the wator en the fields. A Fat Men'* Clnb. men's club has bean established In Paris under the name of "Los Cout Kilos," ' no man welching loss than 200 pounds being 1 accepted. On State occasions the club will parade in a body. REV. DR TALMAGE, ; i t BUNUAY'9 UlStUtltSK OI inrj NOTED DIVINE. Subject: "A Kins Eating Grass." Text: "The same hour was the thing fulfilled upon Nebuchadnezzar, and ho was driven from men, and did eat grass as oxen, and biB body was wot with the dew of heaven, till bis hairs wore grown like eagles' feathers, and his nails like birds' claws."? Daniel iv., 33. Better sbad3 your eyes lest they be put out with the splendor of Babylon, as some morning you walk out with Nebuchadnezzar on the suspension bridges which hang from the housetops and he shovrs you the vastness of his realm. As the sun kindles the domes with glist nings almost insufferable and the o*?ao*c -f'W ! ?nn hoi* r\Amn Infn t)lQ ear of the monarch, an f arme<f towers stand around, adorned with the spoils of conquered empires, Nebuchadnezzar waves his hand above the stupendous scene and exclaims, "Is not this great Babylon, that I have built for the house of the kingdom by the might of my power and tor the honor of my majesty?" But ir. an instant all that spiendor is gone from als vision, for a voice falls from the heaven, saying: "O King Nebuohadnezzar, to thee it is spoken. The kingdom is departed from thee, and they shall drive thee from rieD, and thy dwelling shall be with the beasts of the field. They shall make thee to eat grass as oxen anclseven years shall pass over i:hee, until thou know that the Most High rulotb in the kingdom of men and giveth it to whomsoever he will." One hour from the time that he made the boast hn is on the way to the llelds. a maniac, and rushing into the forests, he becomes one of the beasts, covered with eagles' feathers forprotection from the cold, and his nails growing to birds' claws in order that he might dig the earth for roots and climb the trees for nuts. You see thereisafirout variety in the S^rip tuml landscape. In several discourses we have looked at mountains oi excellence, but uow we look down into a great, dark chasm of wickedness as we come to speak of Nebuchadnezzar. God in His Word sets before us the beauty of self denli.l, of sobriety, of devotion. of courage, anc. then, lest we should not thoroughly understand Him, he introduced Daniel and Paul and Deborah as illustrations of those virtuos. God also speaks to us in His Word as !o tho hatef ilness of pride, of lolly, of impiety and lc-3t we should not thoroughly understand Him, introduces Nebuchadnczzar as the impersonation of these forms of depravi ry. The forraer style of characier is a lighthouse, showing us a way into a safe harbor and the latter style of character is a black buoy, swinging on tho rooks, to show where vessels wreck themselves. Thanks unto God for both the buoy un.l Tm hnet- nf "Wi?hiif>hov1. nezznr is thundering at the gates ol Jerusa- ' lem. The crown of that eacred city is struck ( inio tlui dust by the hand of Babylonish in- 1 solence. The vessels ot the temple, which ' had never been desecrated by profane touch. 1 were ruthlessly seized for sacrilege and 1 transportation. Oh, what a sad hour when ! those Jews, at the command of the invading | army, are obliged to leave the home of their nativity? How their hearts must have been ' wrung with anguish when, on the day they 1 departed, they heard the trumpets from the ' top of the temple announcing the hour for j morning sacrifice and saw the smoke of the altars ascending around the holy hill of Zion: 1 for well they knew thai: in a far distant land 1 they wou.ld nev^r hear that trumpet call nor ] behold the majestic ascent of the sacrifice! i Behold those captlvefi on tho road irom Jerusalem to Babylon! Worn and weary, 1 they dare not halt, for roundabout are armed I men urging them on with hoot and shout 1 and blasphemy. Aged men tottered abng on their staves, i weeping that tbey coull not lay their bones i in tne sleeping place of their fathers and I children, wondered at the length of the way I ani sobbed themselves to sleep when the 1 night had fallen. It seemed as it at every i Btep a hea rt broke. Bu t at a tu rn of the road ' Babylon suddenly springs upon the view of 1 the captives, with its gardens and palaces. < k shout goes up from the army as they be- j hold their uativeoity, bnt not ono huzza in i heard from tho cnptlvcs. These exiles saw < no splendor there, for i': was not home. Tho 1 Euphrates did not havo th9 water gleam oi t tho brook Kedron or tho pool of Siloam. The t willows of Babylon, on which they hung 1 their untuned harps, were not as graceful as s the trees which at the foot of Mount Moriah i Beemed to weep at tbo departed glory of < Judah. and all the fragrance that descended s from the hanging gardens upon that great < city was not so sweet ks one breath of the 1 acacia and frankincense that the high priest 1 kindled in the sanctuary at Jerusalem. 1 On a certain night, a little while after J these captives had been brought to his city, Nebuchadnezzar Isscarou with a night vision. , A. bad man's pillow is apt to be stuffed with , deeds and foi ebodings whioh keep talking in ] the nighr. He will find that the eagles' down , in his pillow will stick him like porcupine ( quills. The ghosts of old transgressions are ( 3ure to wander about in the darkness and < beckon and his?. Yet when the morning j came he found that the vision had entirely ( Aa/1 f?/-N m l.iiM pnn tv\ c A ?-/-t r\ t\ r\ brtrthAra UCU JlKJLLl 1IIIU. i/iraiiiO Uiwp Itv HUVUV4 0| 1 &nd therefore are apt to sail away before wo can faston them. Nebuchadnezzar calls all tho wise men of the land into his presence, demanding that by their necromauoy they explain his dream. They of course fail. Then their faithful king issues an ediot with as little sense as mercy, ordering the slaying of all the learned men of the country. But Daniel th? prophet comes in with the interpretation just in timo to save the wise men and the Jewish captives. My friends, do you not see that pride and ruin ride in the same saddle? See Nebuchadnezzar on the proudest throne of all the aarth, and then see him graze with the sheep and the cattle! Pride is commander, well plumed and comparisoned, but it leads forth a dark and frowning best. The arrows from th? Almighty's quiver are apt to strike a j man when on the wing. Goliath shakes his j great spear in defiance, but the smooth j Btones from the brook make him staggor and j fall like an ox under a butcher's bludgeon. , He who is down cannot fall. Vessels scud- ( dine under bare poles do not feel the force ^ of the storm, while those with all sails set , sapsise at the sudden descent of the tempest, j itemember that we can be as proud of our ( humility as anything else. Antisthenes walked the stroets of Athens with a ragged j cloak to demonstrate his humility, but So- , crates declared he could see his hypocrisy : through the holes in his cloak. We would ull see ourselves smaller thnn we are if we were as philosophic as Severus, the Emperor of Rome, who said at the close of his life, "I have seen everything, and everything is ( nothing." And when the urn that was to , ooatain his ashes was at his command , hrnnirht to him. hft said. "Little Urn. thou ebalt contain one for whom the world was too little." Do you not also learn from the misfortune of this king oi Babylon what a terrible thing is the loss of reasoo? There is no calamity that can possibly befall us in this world so grsat a& derangement of intellect; to have tho body of man and yet to fall even below the instinct of a brute." In this world of horrible sights, the most horriMe is the idiot's stare. In this world of horrible sounds, the most horrible is the maniac's laugh. A vessel drivon on the rocks, when hundreds go down never to rise and other hundreds drag their mangle.! and shivering bodies upon t he winter's beach, is nothing compared to the foundering of intellects full of vast hopes and attainments and capacities. Christ's heart went out toward thoso who were epileptic, falling into the lire, or marines cutting themselves among the tombs. Wo are a.-customed to be more grateful for physicial health than for the proper working of our mind. We are apt to takeit forgranted that the intellect which has served us so well willalwajs be faithfui. We !or?et that an engine of such tremendous power, where t:ie wheels have such vast n ess of circle and such swiftness of motion, and the least impediment might put it out of gear, can only he kept in proper ba ance by a divine hand. No human hand could engineer I ho train of immortal faculties. IIow straiiee it is that ouj memory, on whoso shouldors all the misfortunes and successes and occurrences of a lifetime are placed, should not oltener break down, and that tho scales of judgment, whioh have been weighing so much and so long, should not lose Iheir adjustment and their fancy, which hoLIs a dangerous wand, should not sometimes maliciously wavo it. bringing into the lieirt forebodings ana hallucinations the most appalling! Is it not strange that this mind, which hopes so much in its mighty leaps for the attainment of its objects, should not be dashed to pieces on its disappointments'' Though so delicately tuned, this instrument of uutold harmony plays on, though fan? shakes it and vexations rack it and sorrow and joy and loss and gain in quick succession beat out of it their dirge or toss from it their anthem. At t ' - V >- . .1 w . ... ' .' ' : - * nvkA nf nlffhf whan in r\*ftirflt* rou rehearse the onuses of your thanksgiving, lext to the salvation by Jesus Chrl6t, praise he Lord for the preservation of your reason. 3ee also in this story of Nebuchadnezzar he use that God makes of bad mem The ictions of the wicked are used as Instruments for the punishment of wickedness in others or as the illustration of 9ome prin;iple in the divine government. Nebujhadnezzar subserved both purposes. Even io I will go back with you to tne history of avery reprobate that the world has ever seen, and I will show you how to a great exteat his wickedness was limited in its destructive power and how God glorified Himjelf in the overthrow and disgrace of Eis enemy. Babylon is full of abomination, and wiokod Cyrus destroys it. Persia fills the oup of Its iniquity, and vile Alexander puts an end to it. Macedon must be chastised, and bloody Emilius does it. The Bastile Is to be destroyed, and corrupt Napoleon accomplishes it. Even so selfish and wiokwd men are often made to accomplish great and glorious purposes. Joseph's brethren were guilty of superlative perfidy and meanbess when they gold him into slavery for about $7, yet how they must have been overwhelmed with tho truth that God never forsakes the righteous when they saw He had become the Prime Minister of Egypt! Pharaoh oppresses the Israelites with the most diabolic tyranny ; yet stand still and 3ee the salvation of God. The plagues defend, the locusts, and the hail; ana. the destroying angel, showing that there is a God who will defend the cause of His people, and finally, after the Israelites have passed through the parted sea, behold, in the wreck of the drowned army, that God's enemies are as chaff in a whirlwind! In some financial pttLUU [UO Ll^ui0uu3 8uuricu >YilU LUC VYACU.UU. Houses and stores and shops in n night foundered on the rock of bankruptcy, and healthy credit without warning dropped dead in the street, and money ran up the long ladder of twenty-five per cent, to.iaugh down upon those who could not climb after it. Dealers with pockets full of securities stood shouting in the deaf ears of banks. Men rushed down the streets with protested notes after them. Those who before foond it hard to spend their money were left without mouey to spend. Laborers went home for want of work, to see hunger in their uhair at the table and upon the hearth. Winter blew his breath of frost through angers of icicles, and sheriffs with attachments dug among the cinders of fallen storehouses. and whole cities joined in the long funeral procession, marching to the grave of lead fortunes and a fallen commerce. Verily the righteous suflered with the wioked, but generally tho wicked had the worst of If Qrtlart/^lrl AufnFoa fhflf hnrl nnvnA tncrAfb. ar through schemes of wickedness were ilashed to pieces like a potter's vessel, and Sod wrote with letters of fire, amid the ruin and destruction of reputations, and estates that were thought Impregnable, the old fashioned truth, which centuries ago He wrote in tils Bible, "The way of the wicked he turnsth upside down." As the stars in heaven ire reflected from the waters of the earth, aven so great and magnificent purposes are reflected back from the boiling sea of human passion and turmoil. As the voice of a sweet jong uttered among the mountains may be uttered baok from the cavernous home of wild beast and rocks split and thunder an crratrf hflrmnnif?fl nf AniVa providence fire rung back from the darkest :averns of this sin struck earth. Sennacherib ind Abimelech and Herod and Judas and Nero and Nebuchadnezzar, though they straggled like beasts unbroken to the load, were put into a yoke, where they were compelled to help draw ahead God's great projects of mercy. Again, let us learn the lesson that men can be guilty of polluting the sacred vessels of the temple and carrying them away to Babylon. The sacred vessels in the temple at Jerusalem were the cups and plates of gold md silver with which the rites and ceremonies were celebrated. The laying of aea.then hands udou them and the carrying them off as spoils wero an unbounded offense io the Lord of the temple. Yet Nebuchadnezzar oomn>ltted this very sacrilege. Though that wicked king la gone, the sins ie Inaugurated walk up and down the earth, jursinglt from century to century. The >in of desecrating sacred things Is committed by those who on sacramental lay take the communion cup, while ;helr conversation and deeds all show that hey live down in Babylon. How solemn is he Saorament! It is a time for vows, a time ,'or repentance, a time for faitb. Sinai itands near wiih its fire split clouds and Oalrary with its victim. The Holy 8plrit broods jver the scene, and the glory of heaven leems to gather in the sanctoary. Vile lnleed must that man be who will come In from his idols find unrepealed follies to take lold of the sacred vessels of the temple. Oh, :hou Nebuohadnezzar! Back with you to Babylon! . Those also desecrate sacred things who use the Sabbath for any other than religious nurnnses. This holv dav was let down from heaven amid the intense secnlarities of the week to remind us that we are immortal and to allow us preparation for an endless state jf happiness. It Is a green spot In the hot iesert of the world that Rushes with fountains and waves with palm trees. This is the time to shake the dust from the robe of our piety and in the tents of Israel sharpen our swords for future conflict. Heaven, that seems so far off on other days, ilights upon the earth, and the song af heavenly choirs and the hosanna of the white robed seem to mingle with our earthly worship. Wo hear the wailing infant of Bethlehem, and the hammer stroke jf the carpenter'? weary son in Nazareth, ind the prayer of Gethsemane, and the bitter cry of Golgotha. Glory be unto the Lord ^f the Sabbath ! With that one day in seven Sod divides this great sea of business and ;aye?y, that so, dry shod, we may pass between the worldly business of the past and the worldly business of the future. But to many the Sabbath comes only as a ... r? ota.'oUKa?Uaa/1 ifJai + lr? fluM rum. Jiiy lur XiUl^UUVlUUUU VlOUlii^i MWIM bling, hotel lounging and political caucusing. This glorious 8abbatb, which was intended only as a golden chalice from which the thirsty should drink, is this moment being carried dowa to Babylon. I do not exaggerate the truth when I say that to tens of thousands there is no distinction between the Sabbath and the week days except that on the Lord's day they do not work, while they eat more largely and dissipate more thoroughly. Sabbath breakers are like hunters who should oompoll their hounds to take rest while themselves continue on the weary chase, for men on the Sabbath allow their bodies, whioh are merely the animal nature, sufficient repose, while their immortal nature, whioh should be fed an 1 refreshed, Is compelled to chase up and down this world's highway.- How shameful to rob God of His day, when He allows men so much lawful acquisition, even of a worldly nature, on the Sabbath, for. although men themselves are commanded to rest, the corn and the wheat and the grass f*row just as rapidly on the Sabbath as on other days, so that while they ait in the sanctuary they are actually becoming richer in worldly things. While you are doing nothing your bonds and mortgages are all accumulating interest for your estate just as fast as on other days. Men hired by the month or year are receiving just as mucn wages whilo quiet on the Sabbath as they are the hard working weekdays. No, I say how unutterably mean it ib, when God is adding to your worldly estate on the Sabbath as certainly as ou other days, that any should not be satisfied with that, attempt to seize additional secular advantage from the Lord's day.' Have you never noticed the curious fact that our worldly occupation frequently seems.to be divided into sections of six days each? Every week we have just enough work given us to do in six days. God makes just enough bruaksin our continuous occupations to thrust in the Sabbath. If you have not before noticed, observe hereafter that when Saturday night comes, there is almost always a good stopping place in your business. All things secular and spiritual in providence and revelation seem to say, "Remember the Sabbath day to keep it holy." When the six days of creation had passed, God stopped work'nir. Not even a pure flower or a white cloud would He mnke, because It was the Sabbath, and, giving an example to all future times. He rested. What an embarrassing thing to meet in heaven if we have not settled our controversies on earth. So I give out for all peop!o of all religions to sing John Fawcet's hymn, in short meter, composed in 1772, h?\t ju?t as appropriate for 1897 : Blest be the tie that binds Our hearts in Christian love. The fellowship of kindred minds Is like to that above. From sorrow, toil and pain And sin we shall be free, Ami perfect love and friendship reign Through all eternity. i R'RTJfiTOTIS HEADING. Before we knew that o'er our days of Bunshine C'oukl come such shade. Before we knew that in our midst an angel His home had made, How ealm we were in our serene content- Ta ment? Our skies how blue? How light we held his living, loving presence. Before we knew! But now tbe sorrow of a vain regretting, ' "Had we but known," -* Throbs sadly throuph our life of seeming 31 calmness ~ *" In undertone. t J? Ob, could we bear once more the voice now Jjjf * silent? ** So dear, so true? A.s in the old sweet days of love and glad- fj1 nes6 Si Before we knew ! ^ -Alarv Bingham Wilson, in Congregational- <ji ist. II iii THE APPRENTICESHIP OF PREACHING. Fullness of knowledge saves a minister ?e from the temptation of resorting to bizarre x., methods to attract a congregation. No mat- _] ter how clever a man may be, he cannot long bide from himself or from others the gt, fact of his intellectual superficiality and yc [imitation; and I believe that many a preacher who resorts to eccentric and sen- p? sationai stratagems does so from the con- jD sciousness of the meagreness and frality of jj his theological and philosophical resources. | " -?1 - ? I iNO irujy actor uecuincn u. juivuuiu nnuaIng a tight rope to draw a crowd; no truly j great singer blacks his face and joins the jn minstrels to secure popularity : no great art- ce ist renounces academical law to astonish the world by daubing nightmares. Men of a ^ much inferior order condescend to theatri- ge :als : gifted men have no need. And it is w, the same with respect to the Christian pul- )e, pit. Henry Ward Beecher did not resort to Bags and dulcimers ; Bishop Simpson sue- E( ;eeded without dressing himself in Oriental costume; Joseph Parker gets on without a tb magic lantern; R. W. Dale used no stage property.posture or passion, and Maclaren he discovers no anxiety to straddle the latest js sensation. But the preacher who is con- cc scious of deficiency in the deeper qualifica- iu tions of his vocation seeks to awaken and p] maintain public interest by eccentricities 8j] and extravagances in the subjects fe he chooses or 'in the |manner in whli>h hn treats them. Our conjjre- e?< gations desire above all things clear, deep, hi Scriptural truth, and any ministry of real to teaching power is sure of perennial popu- Sj larity. The interest of the multitude in uj Christian doctrine is not speculative and pj arbitrary; it is personal, practical, passion- of ate. The people recognize in our doctrine to the things by which they live, and he who fr can state evangelical truth with lucidity and st feeling will find his ministry influential x. when the mere rhetorician and sensation- *gi alist have passed away.?W. L. Watliinson. in D. D. (Londo::), in Methodist Review. Kl tr Faith is not a state of inaction, security th and contentedne?a : it is a constant reach- th ins forth towarc . higher and fuller life. . Pi The least exercise of it is productive of th 3?V?ao cot tm/iK o vnlno I a* WODUCriUI rtreuilp. vrvu ureo ouvn .. upon the least grain of faith, and Riven it ht 6uch a power, that.it can overcome moun- b< tainous dilTlculties and effect extraordinary fli transformations. But God means that the bl seed should become a tree. Plant a seed in ai a flower-pot that is full of soil, motionless, changeless, inert, that would remain as it is eli forever, and at once the presence of the cs seed in the soil creates a vortex of motion M and change. The seed, as it germinates and of grows, draws the particles of the soil into bi its own composition and structure, imparts w to them a higher nature.organizes the sand Is and makes it living material, attracts the u] dew and the sunshine, and brings all the xi powers of nature to its help that it may th grow. And so plant a seed of faith in Christ ai in a dead human heart, and what a change and commotion it causes ! It raises up the pi nature into newness of life: it lays all the sc powers of heaven and earth under contri- th button for its help and sustenanoe. But as pi * ' - ^ J it grows It accompnsnee greater wuuucro in the tree-stage than in the seed-stage, si The produce of the mjnute grain of mystard w seed is the greatest of herbs, occupying a J< large space, and doing a great work. Look 01 what a tree does in the economy of nature ! (J How it forms the source of rivers and streams, how it regulates the seasons, and pi alters the climate of the locality!* And at more astonishing s! ill is the effect of faith ai when it reaches the tree-stage and becomes tc a resting-place for weary creatures on its tc boughs, and gives refreshment to multituee ti by its shade and fruit.?Hugh MacMillan, tk D. D., in the Quiver. 6< hi tt Since all things are God's servants, all a things must necessarily be His messengers, __J .1 1 ^iunonontinn fll tuiu LJl^Lr.iuio cvcijr octii u.o ? of Jife lias its message for us, let the aspect c< of the ''messenger" be what it may. Many in of our choicest gifts from our dearest friends P1 come to us by the hands of very rough-look- w ing messengers and are wrapped up in C coarse brown packages. Do we, because of g< this, "despise and misuse" the messengers and refuse to receive and open the pack- h< ages? My neighbor who treats me unkindly, ef or my friend who wrongs me. or my enemy r? who niagligns me. have each one as really a f? message from God for me as the clergyman who preaches to me. or the Christian H friend who gives me a tract. And as J (1 would not "despise or misuse" the one, ce neither must I the other. We little know tr of the rich blessings we lose because we thus despise and misuse the "servants" who bring them. Perhaps the gift of patience, te lor whicn you nave pruyeu ioug nuu up patently in vain, is held in the band of that ta very disagreeable inmate of your household. c< whose presence has seemed to you such an w unkind infliction. Or it may be that the til victor}' over the world, for which your sou) ui has fervently hungered, was shut up in that w very disappointment or loss against which C? yoti have rebelled with such bitterness that P( it has brought your soul into grievous dark- m ness instead.?Hannah Whitall Smith. it' is Here is a lighthouse-keeper on the coast. ls The sailor in the darkness cannot seethe jD keeper, unless indeed the shadow of the keeper obscures for a moment the light. CI What the sailor sees Is the light, and he c< thanks, not the keeper, but the power that put the light on that dangerous rock. So the lightkeeper tends his light in the dark, and a very lonely and obscure life it is. No ^ one mounts the rock to praise him. The ?* vessels pass in the night, with never a word er of cheer. . But the life of the keeper gets its tc dignity, not because he shines, but because e' his light guides other lives; and many a 6' w"n "** n**? crwutotc thnt fwiiilflini? licht across the sea. and seeing its good work gives thanks to his Father which is in heaven.?Dr. Feabodv. U, Suppose you say to yourself: ''This is art ordinary, shabby life of mine to ar look at?no great thing to do or be 01 n hope for or prow to. I have just got to con- BtJ tent myself with drudgeries that must b? of every day the same, and never advance me ch beyond themselves. But I mean to pul C< great cheer into all I do. L mean every- th thing shall show integrity, shall speak oJ ti< honesty, shall prove my truth; nothing *h that I touch that 1 will not adorn by some grace of soul." What will be the result? Tl Where will be the paltriness, the worthless- at ness, of your life?ltev. J. F. W. Ware. te Cfl Ie "Into the life 90 poor, and hard, and plain. Tl That for a while they must take up again, "> My presence passes. Where their feet toil efi slow. Mine, shining-swift with love, still foremost 03 go." P1 ?Adeline P. T. Whitney. ?( NATIONAL SOLDIERS' KOVIZS. JJ eu Eighty-two Per Cent, of Inmates on the 'Jt Pension Rolls. Bh The report of the Iuspector General of the Army on tho several brunches of the National li( home for disabled volunteer soldiers show them to be generally in pood condition. The tr amouut ox ponded for maintenance for the year 1896 was 42,200,297, making the cost per capita of 17,141 inmates, ?12ti against $128 in 1895 and $141 in 1894. Tnere were , 1171 deaths during the year, 200 of which occurred outsi-'.e of tho homes. About 80 per .wc cent, of these mon were buried in the home 11D cemeteries. At the close of the yeat 82 per co cent, of the inmates of the homes were on I the pension roll, the amount paid tLem during the yety: being $2,50 \000. 8ti * i 1 SABBATH SCHOOL W TERNATIONATi LRSSON MARCH 7. V ' MM ssson Text: "The Ethiopian Convert,-' Acts vlii., 26-40?Golden Text: Acts vlli. 4?Com- TS mentary. ' n 26. "Arise and go toward the south." I jus spake the aneei of the Lord to Philip I alle be was in the midst of this (treat R Drk in Samaria. He is sent from what ' I ems to be a very great work out Into the 1 isert, and he is not told why he Is sent. 1 mple and wbole hearted obedience is the I le thing required of a servant or a soldier ogels that excel in strength do His com- ' < andments, hearkening unto the voice of Is word. They dq His pleasure (Ps. eiiL, 21V Tf wfl nrn cnnd servants and sol ere, we will hold ourselves according to Sam. zv., 15; I ChroD. xxvllt., 21; II Sam. .,36. 27. "And he arose and went, and. behold, man of Ethiopia." Phillip sees what may I i the object of his mission, one man, an < :hiopian, the treasurer of Queen Candace, ho had been to Jerusalem to worship. The ne will yet come when Ethiopia shall retch out her hands to God, when from be- v >nd the rivers of Ethiopia suppliants shall > ing an offering to the Lord (Zep. ML., 10; ^ I. lxviii, 31). But, whether a nation or an * . dividual, God regards all who truly seek V im (Job. xxxiv.. 29). ^ 28. "Sitting in his chariot, read Esaias the I oDhet." What be had heard or seen at rusalem we are not told, bat we may v. ell ! Mgine that be hud heard somewhat coaming those who had filled Jerusalem with eir doctrine and concerning Him of whom ey spake. He must have been an earnest \ eker after light, for God sent Philip all the- " ay from Samaria to be his teaohor and to*v . ad him to (Jhrist. 29. "Then the Spirit said to Philip. GO >ar and Join thyself to this chariot." What^ 'er Philip may have thought he now ku?w\ e object of his mission. His trained ear \ sard the message of the Spirit, and without ( ssitation or question he obeys. I believe it / possible to live always and fully under thelv*? introl of the Spirit uud have God working ^ us both to will and to do of His good easure. If this is our whole-hearted dere, He will fulfill the desire of tbem that ' ar him (Ps. cxlv., 19). 30. "Undcrstanuefct thou what thou read- . ' ' tV" "With this question Philip introduced mself to the man in the chariot, having run aim as soon as he was commanded by the nrlt. When the Lord sees any one intent ' 4 Don understanding His word He will take litis to instruct him. The marginal reading Job x., 8, is very suggestive, "Thine hands . ok pains about me." Gabriel was sent J oin heaven to Diniel to make him tinder- I and and to show him the truth (Das. 1 , 14. 21; xi., 2). The Holy Spirit has been \ ven to every believer to teach and to guide to all truth (John xiv., 26; xvL, 13). 31. "How can I, except some man should lide me?" Thus gruolously answered the oasurer, and he Invited Philip to step into e chariot with him. How smoothly everying goes when the Spirit is working! ailip, sent by the 8pirit, flnds one in whom e Spirit has been working, and therefore le ready to be taught. The Spirit might ive taught the eunuch Himaelf without the ilp of any man (I John 11., 27), but He saw : to use human instrumentality, JSe is e^sed to be used of Godl Only be wlllin^^JH id He will use you. H9H 32, 33. "He was led as a sheep to aughter." Thus he read in what we wou^^^H ill Isa. liii., 7, 8, concerning Him of who^HH oses and ail the prophets did write, Jeeu^|p| Nazareth, the Hon ol Josepn (jonn 1., 11 be knew Him not. The whole chaptei^^H ill doubtless be the general confession ofll raei as a nation after they shall have lookec^^H pon Him whom they have pierced (ZechJKi i., 10) in the day wher they shall Bay, "Lo, gal is is our God! We have waited for Him, irl He will save us" (Tsa, xxv., 9). 34. "I pray thee, of whom speaketh the H opbet this?" Whether the propnet wa? IBB leaking of himself or of some other maDySH| ie eunuch coald not make out. The ophots were types of Ohrlst and did in eir lives foreshadow in some measure the ifferings of Christ. Isaiah and his children ere signs in Israel (chapter viii.. 18), and sremiah says of himself, "I was like a lamb an ox that, is brought to the slaughter" ' ' er. ii.. 19). ' 85. Philip began at the same Scripture and eaehed unto him Jesus. He would prob)ly go baok to the Passover lamb of Ex *11., "~ld to the daily barnt offering, and possibly i the coats of skins of Gen. iii.,21; then on i the Lamb of God. of whom John the Bap st spake. He con Id easily And in Isa. Mil., te sufferings, death, resurrection and future lory of Christ. But whatever line he took, i muBt certainly have shown Christ to be le only 8aviour of sinners and the fulfillent of every type and shadow. 36. The treasurer evidently took it all in id received Jesus Christ as his Saviour, for, )ming to water, he asked for baptism. Harig received Christ, he would as quickly as ossible confess it before all who journeyed ith him, and doubtless he would preach urist to many, for he conld not keep the Dod news to Himself. 37. "If thou believest with all thine ;art, thou mayest." This is the one only isential to salvation, that Christ be truly sceived in the heart. "If thou shalt con38 with thy mouth the Lord Jesus and shalt ;lieve in thine heart that God hath raised im from the dead, thou sbalt be saved" *om. x., 9). To believe on Him is to retive Him (John i., 12), and if He be not uly received there is no saving faith (I )hn v., 12): 38. The driver of the chariot and other atnaants may have overheard and undercod ihe whole conversation. They cerinly now beheld that which the treasurer >ulri more full}* explain to them as they ? ? A'? tha 'a?a hnn. t'JJl UU lUt'H ffilj. ItUUkUOA r zed was immoraed or had the water poured pon him does not cloarly appear. It those ho think that immersion is the right way? innot love and hear with those who think juring or sprinkling sufficient?there is ore grace ready for them if they will have 39, 10. The eunuch goes on bis way rejoicig, and Philip, caught away by ihe 8plrit. Sound at Azotus, and preaches the gospel i all the oities from there to Caesarea. The y of the eunueh was due to his faith in hrist and to the fact that now he sras aoipted in the Beloved, justifled from all ?, lings and a joint heir with the man at God's ght haDd (Eph. i., 6; Acts xiii., 38; Bom. ii., 16,17). He believed and was thus filled . * ith iov and peace (Bom. xv., 13). God had ther work for Philip, or rather more of the ime work in other places, and sent him off > it. If he never saw the eunuoh again on irtb, he certainly met him long ere this la lory.?Lesson Helper. OUR INDIANS STARVING. eplorable Condition of a Band Near Ana. conda, Montana. A number of Indians of various tribes whoo camped south of Anaconda, Montana, lar Timbered Butte, are reported to be iu a. irving condition. There are forty-seven them, twenty-three being women and lildren. Several of them called on the )unty Auditor and the Commissioners and rough an interpreter told of their coudi>n, but the county officials informed them at they were not charges on Silver Bow >unty and nothing could be done for them, ley subsequently appealed to the city ithorities with no better result. City Dojtive Meiklejohn, however, went out to the >mp to investigate, and reports that the idians are really iu a deplorable condition, ley have not sufficient clothing to keepemselves warm and absolutely nothing to it. They begged Mr. Melklejohn to lay their ise before the proper authorities, and he omised to call the attention of the Gover>r to it, but it is hardly probable that the ovornor of the State can help thorn. Among e Indians are a number of Canadian Crees. ;ainst whom Governor Hie (cards waged ich a fearless and relentless war and whom. was generally believed had all been lipped across the border to the Queen's , imain. Unless something is done to re- I sve their present condition it is likely thatx ; le cold, tho sulphur smoke and hunger will J ansport many of them to a land from whloh > transported Indian ever returns. Horse Swapping Conventions. To while away the timo until tho spring >rk begins, farmers in the viciuity of Maris, Ala., are to Hold weekly horse swapping nventions thore on Saturdays. A Crazo for Snear Beota. The craze for raising sugar beets haa ruck New lork State.