The Abbeville press and banner. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, March 31, 1897, Image 6
t?t.
CHAPTER XXV?Contlnned.
Mrs. Hedges is a great admirer of
Ralph Denham, and if she was the only
one to consult, no obstacle would have
Deen tnrown m me ui ulo uuiim
with her daughter.
It may surprise the reader to know
that, in view of the incontrovertible
knowledge these young ladies had of
Captain Fox, that they should ever j
think of going on board his ship.
But they had a double object; at least 1
they reasoned;themselves into the belief
that they had; and then they could not 1
even imagine the act of perfidy contem- '
plated by the pirate.
Thev knew that the entertainment 1
was a part of Fox's 6cheme to keep the '
people of Sag Harbor blind to the ac- '
tual purpose, the capture of the Sea
Hawk.
Again, Lea Hedges and Ellen Condit ,
were devoured by an intense curiosity
?a curiosity which is said to be pecu- .
liar to the sex-r-to see Ealph Denharn
in his disguise, or rather to try and dis- *
cover him in the disguise.
Certainly the latter was not a good ,
motive for going on board the Wanderer;
but the world might not be 60 1
pleasant a place to live in if sound rea
? 1 J l - ? I ? ~ ir? n fliof ^
fJULlb CUUIU UC j;ivou ivi c; v cx j c&jxxjg kuuv
is done.
Promptly at two o'clock the young 1
ladies, after hearing many sage injunc- j
tion6 from their mothers, and dutifully
promising to obey them, went '
down to the beach, where a long boat '
from the Wanderer was waiting to take 1
the visitors on board.
They met there quite a number of
young people, to whom an invitation 1
was extended, and not a few of the older
men, among them Doctor Hedges, 1
who had been dazzled by' Fox's magnificence.
Although every man on the ship had
been working with all their might before
2 o'clock, they now appeared in holiday
attire, and the vessel was gay with
bunting.
Awnings covered the quarter-deck,
and the Wanderer's musicians played a
welcome as the boat came alongside.
Captain Fox and Frenauld were there
In all the glory of their gorgeous uniforms,
and ihoy made no effort to hide
their delight as they helped Lea and
Ellen on board.
But while careful not to attract attention
by their wandering glances, nor
to seem indifferent to the courtesies of
their entertainers, their hearts were
with the blue jackets forward and
amidships, and many a glance they cast
In the hope of being able to distinguish
Ralph Denham.
A splendid collation was spread on
the deck; and there were lavors in the
Bhape of gems and flowers for all the
young ladies.
It was understood, of course, that
there would be no dancing?there was
no time for that; but there was much
promenading, and, judging from the I
laughter that occasionally accompanied
It, much delightful conversation.
Every now and then Fox or Frenauld
would leave his guests, and go forward
to issue a whispered order to a man in
waiting, who would communicate it in a
the same way to the sailors. L
The crew no longer 6tood in listless d
groups, but hurried back and forth,
busying themselves with ropes and removing
the bunting that was in their b
way. t
About half-past four a shower?a
most fortunate one for Captain Fox's b
Elans, came on. and he invited all into
is luxurious cabin. I
As Lea was passing down from tho
quarter-deck, she laid ber hand on a c
6ailor's shoulder, who was there for the t
purpose, and she heard KalphDenhr.m's I
thrilling whisper:
"My God! "Why are you here?"
To those coming behind it looked as e
If she had sipped; as it was she stag- f
gered into the cablin, white as a ghost.
"Frenauld, I will go down and hold
the attention of the people. Send a v
message to Hedges, tell him I have g
changed my mind, and he must follow i
me to Montauk In the morning, vo t
not waste a second in getting the ship l
under way. This is our chance." s
"Aye, aye, sir," replied Frenauld. r
Captain Fox spread before his visit- r
ors his wealth of pictures and rare
nnrina TT? ehnwAfl th?m the cream of
the plunder of a score of gallant ships. ]
He dazzled thein with strings of pearls. ]
He flashed on them emeralds and dia- r
monds till they forgot where they were. >
Meanwhile the anchors wero being i
hoisted and the sails let down. c
Half-past live came, the turn of the
tide. i
The wind was In the west, and tho ]
"Wanderer caught the breeze, and to the
horror of the crowd on shore, watching t
the preparations without seeing any- a
thing of their friends, the stately ship, t
like a great white bird, flew out of the
^arbor. e
<? chapter xxvi. j
doctor hedges has his eyes opened is *
k very unpleasant vat. j
! Doctor Hedges was the Erst one In
the party to discover the ship was in (
motiou. He did not suppose that C'apt. r
Fox knew it, 60 he shouted out: j
"Why, Captain, the ship is sailing j
away!" ,
"I know it," said the Captain, with an ?
easy manner and a smile, intended to ?
calm tho anxiety on every face; "I
wanted to close up the entertainment
bv jrlvine you a little surprise. We I
shall take a sail of a few miles, wind i
and tide are favorable, and before dark i
I will have you all safe at home. Don't
fear." i
Fox, who was in the companion-way,
Waved his hand to his guests, and i
hastened on deck.
"Bravo, Frenauld!" he said to his I
lieutenant. "Now get all the Sea Hawk i
men between decks, order them down i
for enrollment, and then see that they
can't come up again till we let them." ]
"All right, sir," replied Frenauld. 1
Tho bunting, awnirg, tables, and musicians
had disappeared, and in every <
way tho pleasure .ship at anchor wras
transformed into a war ship under sail. <
j The guests, headed by Dr. Hedges,
ru&hed anxiously on deck, and the former,
with every sign of great nervous- 1
cess, addressed Fox: "I and my friends, 1
Capt. Fox, are certainly very much indebted
to you for your kindness, but If
It. is all the same to you, we'd rather
go l.aok. It is near dark, the tide is
setting out, and the wind is from the I
West."
"Confound it! I never thought of
that. How foolish of Frenauld to get 1
under way without letting mo know
this."
Fox said this aloud, so that all could
bear, an I as ha hurried forward to 1
countermand the order to go back, as
t '
they thought, not one or them, not evei
Lea, but believed it was as he said.
Capt. Fox did not come back fo
twenty minutes or more. In the mean
timo Rim hari irnnr> Hrnrn hln^ini
red, promising a fine day fur the mor
row.
Dr. Hedges 6aw that the ship wai
brought about, but the wind and tid<
were against her, and a continuation o
the attempt to get back into the harbo:
must have resulted in sending the Wan
derer ashore.
"I fear," said Capt. Fox, coming bacl
with an expression of sorrow on hii
face, "we are in for it; we can't ge
back to-night."
"But what are we to do?" asked Dr,
Hedges, now thoroughly alarmed.
j. snail anchor unaer the ice or Gard'
ner's Island, and bright and early to
morrow morning I shall see that you al
get home. I assure you, my friends, 1
deplore this very much, very much, in<
deed. But there is an abundance o:
cabin room for all; and we shall hav<
supper, and then sleep till daylight
Now, go to the cabin, or, if you woulc
prefer, remain here till we come tc
anchor."
Th? nsnnlfi one and all preferred t<
stay on deck. There was not the shadov
of suspicion against their gallant host
nevertheless there is a sense of persona!
gratification in seeing with One's owr
ayes that a desired thing is properlj
lone.
Sail was shortened at once; this was
i cheerful sign, and a man amidships
shouted the soundings as he heaved the
lead.
It was not yet quite dark when the
Wanderer brought up under the southeastern
point ot Gardner's Island. She
:ame around with her head to the wind
like a creature of reason, the anchors
were let go and the sailors clambered
iloft to furl sail.
All this was very satisfactory, under
rery unsatisfactory circumstances, tc
ur. Hedges. He was something of 8
philosopher, and he wished to be
thought a decided one; eo assuming a
half-rollicking manner he joked with
tiis daughter and the other young people
about their mishap, and tried to add
iO the humor of the situation by asking
the young ladies how they would feel il
Captain Kidd was to come along in the
light and capture them all.
Captain Fox, who overhead this renark,
replied laughingly:
"If Kidd succeeded, he would find a
more precious cargo than ever fell to
;he lot of a pirate before. But if Miss
Hedges and her companions fear that I
ind the whole crew of the Wanderer
:annot protect them for one night,
,hey should remember that we have on
x>ard fifty gallant men from Ralph
Denham's ship, the Sea Hawk. Surely
;hey will trust to them if it comes to a
struggle." i
"We are not at all afraid, Captain,"
said Doctor Hedges, who noticed the
neaning glances which his daughter
ind Ellen Condit exchanged.
Excepting Lea and Ellon, who alone
mew the oharacter of their host, and
lence the great danger that menaced
hem, the visitors showed a laudable
lesire to make the best of a bad barlain,
and Captain Fox successfully enjouraged
this spirit.
A sumptuous supper was served, and
ifter it was over musical instruments
vere brought out, with cards and all
he games then in vogue. Between his
tfforts to entertain his guests, Fox
rould hurrj on deck to consult with
^renauld.
"Well, Frenauld, how about the Sea
lawk's men?"
"Not the slightest trouble, Captain."
"Where are they?"
"On the lower deck."
Any grumbling.'
"None, sir. I've sent them supper
,nd their hammocks, telling them not
o come on deck till morning, as no
uty would be required of them."
"Did they say anything?"
"Nothing. Oh, there -will be no troude
with them! Outside of sailing maters,
they are as innocent as children."
"Of course they are. Did you let them
iave lights?"
"Yes; they wanted to play cards, and
could see no objection.
"Of course not. Poor devils, if they
an find any pleasure in their situaion
lot them do so. By the way,
remiuiu.
"Yes, Captain."
"We must land our guests bright and
larly; and, let me sea?I will have use
or the boats all night."
"Going ashore?"
"Yes; we carry too much treasure, and
va might as well guard against contin;encies
by concealing some of it on this
sland. The men will be willing, and
hey must help. They will think I am
ncerested in then, and it will encourtge
them. You will see me again after
ny visitors are .stowed away for the
light."
"Very well, sir."
Frenauld wen': about his business and
fox went down to the cabin. Aided by
i)on, he showed the people their stateooms,
all little gems of places; and so
veil W8s the Wanderer provided in this
ocnof't that, ho prmld hftVfl fmenmmo
lated without crowding as many more.
The most anxious man on hoard the
Wanderer that night was Captain Ralph
!)enham. Ordinarily, his position
vould net have been an enviable one;
he coming of Lea and Ellen added an
idditional load to the great responsljility
he had assumed.
The men from the Sea Hawk were instructed
to offer no objections to any
>rdev that might be given, but to follow
heir Captain's example without atracting
too much attention to him by
heir acts.
When ordered to go to the lower deck,
Captain Denham knew exactly what it
neant, though he did not expect that
?\>x would aim to render them poweress
so soon, and then the position presented
any observation of the pirate's
iction, which it was at this time necessary
to know.
The lower deck on which they found
themselves had hooks for hammocks,
showing that It had been designed or
used by sailors as a sleeping place.
The place was limited, very close,
ind filled with that odor of bilge watei
which is intolerable to anyone but a
3ailor.
Directly back of this place was the
front partition separating it from the
store room and the quarters of tho subordinate
officers.
It was Captain Denham who asked for
lights that the men might play cards
till nine o'ciock.
Tho request was granted, and three
ir four parties, arranged by Captaic
Denham, sat down to play where the>
sould be seen by any one coming suddenly
in.
The better to carry out the impression
of perfect contentment with theli
surroundings, as well as to obstruct the
view, all the hammocks were strung.
Captain Denham had been aboard the
Adventure Galley after Colonel Livingston
lltted her out in New York d
few years before, and hence he was
familiar with her construction, excepting
that the cabin had been very much
enlarged.
Calling a few of the men about him,
and sitting in tho middle of the . oor,
where no eavesdropper, if Uiere were
any, could overhear them, he said, in a
whisDer:
' "My lads, It is Kidd's intention to keep
us down here.
Tho sailors nodded their heads vigorously
to indicate that thoy understood
AL|- wall a a Pftnfftln k' 1H
tLllb Vtfiy n Cli, oo nvn uu v?.rv?
as they all now called Fox, did.
"It won't do to be caught napping
1 Two strong men can prevent our leaving
here by the way we came."
r The sailors nodded with equal vigoi
again, and kept longer at It
? "So we must make a way for ourselves
" that will leud to the deck, when bj
morning we hear the signal gun from
9 the Sea Hawk."
J "I think, Captain," said one of the
' men, "that we can cut through the bulkr
head with our knives. One of the
planks I tried a bit ago cuts like olc
cheese, and I made a hole and saw some
c light through it."
* "Where?" asked Captain Denham, riS'
ing suddenly.
The sailor led him over to the bulkhead,
drew out a wooden plug iae hac
fitted to a hole, and told him to look in,
The Captain did look in and the mer
were surprises that he should look ec
^ long; but the Captain had good reasont
I fnr if Ha Raw inside a little eubbv?
hole of a room, -with a candle burning,
f and a boy, whom he recognized as Don,
the cabin boy, on his knees beside a
little bunk.
Waiting till the boy rose, the Captain
put his mouth to the aper;ure anc. whispered
"Don, don't be frightened; we are the
men from the Sea Hawk,"
An intelligent light flashed over Don's
face and he looked to discover the ex?
act place from which the sound came;
but first he secured his own door, to
prevent ony one's coming in en him
unexpectedly.
CapL Denham, seeing the boy's oblAftt.
drew his dirk, and pushed it intc
the hole, and the light flashing on th<
I blade, Don approached the place, and
putting his lips to the opening he whis*
| pered:
1 "I've just been praying for you and
[ the mother at home."
' "Brave boy," replied Capt. Denham:
"you have proved yourself our friend.'
"Ana I am your friend," said t!ae lad
1 "Can you help remove one of th?
i planks between here and where you
i are? "We are fastened in, but at the
k proper time we want to be able to gei
t on deck."
"I can and will help you. Go bacb
\ and wait," replied Don.
! Capt. Denham and his men went
' back, and soon after they heard a low
| grating 6ound, like that made by the
gnawing of a rat.
This was going on when a burly
6ailor, as warrant officer, to give the
man-of-war rank, one of the Wanderer's
1 crew, came into the place occupied by
1 Capt. Denham and his men, and in a
hoarse voice called out: "Come, my
' lads, it is 9 o'clock; out lights, and
turn in."
A cheery "Aye, aye" from the Sea
Hawk men told that they had heard the
order, and the alacrity with which they
1 swung into their hammocks, after putting
out their lights, showed how willingly
they obeyed it.
Satisfied with this, the man, who carried
a lantern, gave it a final flash over
the line of hammocks, and withdrew
with a heavy 6tep.
[to be continued.]
The Biggest Sailing Craft.
The largest sailing craft in existence
is the Potosi, now engaged in the
nitrate trade with the west coast of
South America. She was bnilt by F.
Laeisz of Hamburg, in 1895. Hei
principal dimensions are: Length,
362 feet; breadth, 49? feet; depth,
31* feet; gross register, 2995 tons,
and net register, 3789 tons. She has
a dead weight carrying capacity of
6150 tons, and besides being the
largest sailing ship in existence, she
also possesses the distinction of being
the only live-masted one, with the exception
of the La Frauce of Dunkirk,
which is of considerably smaller di
mensions. During her :arst voyage to
Iquique, a distance of 11,000 miles
was covered in seventy-two days, a re
markablv fast trip.
The largest vessel engaged in trade
on the American coast in the Governor
Ames, a five-masted wooden echooner
trading regularly between Newport
News and Providence, R. I. She was
built at Waldoboro, Mo., in 1888, by
Levitt Sfcorer and her principal dimensions
are: Length, 345 feet 5 inches;
beam, 21 feet2 inches; depth, 21 feet
2 inches, and her net tonnage is 1,689.84.
Captain C. A. Davis is the
master and ownes, and her hailing port
is Providence. She is one ot' a fleet of
schooners engaged in carrying the
celebrated New JRiver coal from Newport
News to Providence, and carries
about 3000 tons on a draught of 22
feet. She is the only five-masted
schooner on this coast, the largest in
existence, and she has a sail area of
about 7000 square yarda.
Diseases of (Jems.
The Philadelphia Times is authority
for the statement that gems are afflicted
with diseases jusi; as individuals.
Among the infirmities to whioh pre
cious stones are liable, i&ya the Times,
is one common to all stones, that of
fading, or losing color, when long exposed
to the light. The emerald, the
sapphire, and the ruby snffer the
least, their colors being as nearly permanent
as colors can be, yet experiments
made a few years ago in Paris
and Berlin to determine the deteriora
tion of colored gems through exposure
showed that even those suffered, a ruby
which has lain for two years in a show
window being perceptibly lighter in
tint than its original mate, which was
kept in the darkness. The causes of
the changes are not very clear, even
to expert chemists, but it is evident
that the action of the light on the coloring
matter of the gem effects a deterioration,
slow but exceedingly sure.
' In the case of the garnet and topaz
the change is more rapid than in that
i of the rnby and eapphire. Opals that
have euccesEfully passed the ordeals of
' grinding, polishing and setting do not
, often crack afterward, but it is best
, not to expose them to even the moderate
heat involved by the wearer sitting
in front of an open fire, for ths
opal is composed principally of silicic
1 acid, with from five to thirteen per
cent, of water, a combination which
( renders them very treacherous objects.
r The idea that they are otherwise un,
fortunate in the sense that they bring
disaster to the wearer may be dismissed
as superstitious.
i
Left His Card.
J Voltaire and Piron were enemies.
To their embarrassment they met one
i day at the country house of a friend.
. Piron got up early, went to Voltaire's
i door and wrote upon it the wcrd
"Rogue." At breakfast Voltaire
smilingly said to him: "I thank you
for showing your intorest in my wel1
fare by leaving your card at my door
1 J this morning."
. I mit t/^t/\tto run a r\r\Tn
iiJCjJLJLlllUUO JtlUAJWLim
0 for a henrt of cal.na repose
Amid th? wtrld'i loud roar,
A life that Jiko a ri?er floivs
Along a peaceful lhore.
Come Holy Spirit, still my heart
With gentleness diviue:
Indwelling peace thou cr.n?t impart,
O, make that blessing mine.
Above the scenes of storm and strife
There speads a region fair ;
Give me to live that higher life,
And breathe that heavenly air.
BLESSINGS IN DISCiriSE.
There is no doubt that cvi-ry hard thing
that God permits to come into our life has a
blessing wrapped up in it. The things which
appear before us as discouragements prove
to be helps toward nobler attainments A
Christian physician, whose career has been
full nf fnirh nnrl nnhlft minijtrv civfifi this
' experience: He was a pcor boy, and a
1 cripple. One day be was watching .some
1 other boys on the ball field. They were
! active, strong, and wealthy As he looked
i on. his heart grew bitter with envy. A
( young man who stood beside him noteil the
discontent on his face and said to him,"You
[ wish you were in those boys'place, don't
you? "'Yes, I do," was the answer. "I
reckon God gave them msney, education
and hetvlth," continued the young mar, "to
help them to be of some account in the
world. Did it never strike you," he continued,
after a moment's pause, "that He
gave you your lame leg for the jame
reason ?to make ? man of you?" The
boy gave no answer and turned away.
He was angry, but he did not forget the
words. His crippled leg God's gift! To
teach him patience, courage, perseverance !
1 To make a man of hiin ! He thought of the
words till tie saw uieir meaning, xney
kindled hope and cheer, and he determined
to conquer hi6 hindrance. He grew heroic.
He soon learned that what was true of his
lame leg was true also of all the difficulties,
hindrances, and hard conditions of his life
?they were all God's gifts to him to help
him to be of some account in the world?to
make a man of him.?J. R. Miller, D. D., in
' Things to Live For."
PERFECTION THROUGH SORROW.
Great sorrows never leave us what we
were before. None can pass under that hammer
and remain the same. After a great
baptism of sorrow we must be different:
but what we should pray and strive for is
that we may emerge from it better, richer,
more faithfnl, more helpful, more filled with
a heartfelt delight in God's will, more able
to make a true answer to God's surprises
and wonders of love. There arc periods in
lif3, years and years, when no great trouble
visits us. Then the storms of sorrow fall,
and we are apt to say,I have passed through
nnrl T mav hone for an immunity
for the future. It is not so. The
troubles may come buck, they may come
back again worse. As has been said, our
Pharaohs are seldom drowned in the lied
sea, and we do not often behold their
corpses stretched upon the sand. The bitterness
of death may return. What then?
At the very worst the memory of the past
will help us. We shall retrace the slow,
difficult war to peaee; our trust in God will
be deepened, and we shall realize that, after
all, the range of sins and sorrows is limited,
though the sea of troubles inay roll its white
crested billows as far asthe horizon. What
are truly numberless are God's mercies.
What.is truly infinite is God's love?Robertson
Nicoll.
A PRAYER OF fiRATITCDE.
We lift up our hearts to thee, 0 God, in
grateful* remembernnce of the gifts and
blessings which have crowned our days.
When our hearts have forgotten thanksgiving,
thou hast not ceased from help. Although
we have sinned, thou hast'still maintained
thy loving kindness. Our trials have
been less than our desert, our joys have
been witness ever of thy merciful compassion.
We bless thee for the gift of life, the
love of friends, the ties of kindred, the joys
of home. We praise thee for opportunities
of knowledge, for innocent enjoyment and
helpful service. Thou hast comforted us in
sorrow and upheld us in the time of doubt
anil fear. Food and raiment and shelter are
from thee, and thou givest us power to over
come temptation. Love is thy gift, and faith
and hope of better days to come ; and thy
Eresence is our continual delight. Blfssed
e thou. 0 God, with honor and thanksgiving,
through Jesus Christ our Lord ! Amen.
DO NOT WORRY.
The habit of looking on the bright side
of things is a good one. and is worth a great
(leal to eac-n one who cultivates?. certainly
one should not cultivate the habit of
looking on the dark side, especially when
he must draw on his forebodings and apprehensions
for a vision of that dark side, and
thus see not only what does not exist, but
what may never exist. God promises grace
for each time of need, but not for each time
of worry and anxiety. He promises to be
with His people when thej pass through the
fire, but He does not promise to extinguish
the (Ire before it has been lighted. He says
that when His people pass through the.
waters they shall not overflow them, and we
ought to be satisfied with that. If we trust
in God. the disasters we dread most will
never come, or, if they do. He will change
the disaster into benediction.?Herald and
Presbyter.
the true bios of foiioiveness.
The true sign of forgiveness is not some
mysterious signal waved from the sky ; not
some obscure emotion hunted oul; in your
heart; not some stray text culled out of your
I5ible ; certainly not some word of mortal
nriest tellinc you that your satisfaction is
complete. The soul full of responsive love
to Christ anil ready, longing, hungry to
serve him is its own sign of forgiveness.
Must there not be sorrow for sin ? Must
there not be resolution of amendment ? .Surely
there must, but it is nut sorrow for sin for
the sake of the sorrowfulness that Jesus
ever wants. He wants sorrow for sin only
that it may bring escape from sin I think
that with all wo know of the divine heart of
Jesus he would far rather see a soul trust
him too much, if that is possible, than trust
too little,which we know is possible enough.
?Phillips Brooks.
HE GAVE US THE BEST.
0 my soul, let thine aspirations go up
more and more after thy heavenly inheritance!
"The Lord is the portion of mine inheritance
and my exceeding great reward."
What more than this can the compassionate
love of God bestow? He gives us life.
Ho gives us his only Son. Ho gives us his
very self. And had lie known of anything
greater in heaven, or in earth, he would
have given that, too. In God we live, we
are the temple of God. we possess God here,
indeed, in spirit and in mystery, but there
in deed and in truth. There our hopes will
become Missful reality. There we shall not
simply sojourn, but we shall dwell in a secure
aliode forever and ever.?Gerhard.
Still Jesus joins himself to us: still he
walks with us ; still he instructs us. speaking
to us by his word, his provideiices, his
Spirit ; still he seeks to enter into our sorrows
and trials, and lo console and cheer
us. But we know him not. Our eyes are
holden by unbelief. Wo do not pres> him to
aliide with us. Hence he is grieved, and we
are left alone in the night.?iliehard Fuller.
"Opportunity comes." said the old proverb,
"with feet of wool, treading so t." You
must have the instinct of an artist for the
approaches of this good genius. You must
listen for it.?lie v. Samuel Johnson.
ACT OF A SOMNAMBULIST.
Wisconsin Girl Ci ? OIT Her Loiir and
ICenutilul Httlr.
Miss Lulu Boeder, of Janosville, Wis., had
i line head of liar, twenty-seven inchos
long, of which she w is very proud. When
jho ^ot up one morn ig recantiy sin was astonished
to Hud that in the night she had
ieon relieved ot her tresses. Thoy were cut
jff close to her head.
When tho family went down sttirs the
mystery was solved. Lying on the (loor of
tho sitting room was tho hair, vrlth the
Iihoars lying on top. Miss Beeder h id been
walking in her sleep, and had cut off her own
oair without knowing it.
)
I
\
SABBATH SCHOOL
INTERNATIONAL LESSON FOP
APRIL 4.
Lesson Text: "Peter Working Miracles,"
Acts ix., 32-43?Golden
Text: Acts ix., 34?
Commentary.
32. "And it came to puss as Peter passed
throughout all quarters."he came down also
to the saints which dwelt at Lydda." The
last we heard of Peter be was with JohD
preaching the word of the Lord as they returned
from Samaria to Jerusalem, having
witnessed the great work of the Lord
through Philip in Samaria (chapter viii.,
25). In Jerusalem the number of disciples
multiplied greatly, and a great company oi
the priests believed (chapter viM 7). In all
the land the churohes had rest, and wore being
built up, and were multiplying, walking
in the fear of the Lord and in the comfort of
the Holy Ghost (chapter ix., 31). Peter
seems to be itinerating a little and helping
the saints here and there. Notice this name
' saints." We are not called to be saints,
but we are called 9?ints (Bom. i., 7, omitting
the italics; also I Cor. i., 2) by virtue of our
oneness with Christ. Every beltever is a
saint.
33. "And there he found a certain man
named iEnas, which had kept his bed eight
years and was sick of the palsy." We would
infer that Jlnas was one of the saints to'
whom Peter came, and finding him in this
hoinip.ca condition he had comoassion upon
him. Possibly 2Enus and others had been
praying that the Lord would send some one
that way through whom health might come,
remembering Math, xviii., 10. How very
suggestive of the utter helplessness of the
sinner is the condition of this paralytic who
had been eight years in bed.
34. "And Peter ?aid unto him, JEnas.
Jesus Christ maketh tn?e whole. Arise ana
make thy bed. And he arose immediately."
Peter was greatly used of the Bbrd in
the healing of the body as well as of the
soul. Bee chapters iii., 6, 7; v., 15,16. It
would seem that some were healed even by
the shadow of Peter falling upon them.
35. "And all that dwelt at Lydda and
SaroD saw Him. and turn3d to the Lord."
God saw that this showing forth of His
power through Peter would be the means oi
many turning to Him. He does not heal all
who are sick, but to this day He does, both
with and without medicine, heal many who I
are sick. He knows whether it is best for us
to abide here or bo with Him at home, and
whether, abiding here, it is best for us to be
sick or well. The great thing is to glorify '
God that people may turn to Him (Phil, i.,
20; John xviL, 4).
36. "Now, there was at Joppa a certain j
disciple named Tabitha, which by interpretation
is called Dorcas. This woman was
full of good works and alms deeds which
she did." She was a Christian indeed, one
of the kind that is missed when she goes
away. All who truly receive Christ are
saved (John i., 12). Disciples are'thosewho
live upon His word and follow Him fully at
any cost (Luke xvi., 26, 27). Those who are
both of these and also full of good works
and kindness to the poor must come sped- \
ally near to the heart of Christ, for He, being
full of the Spirit, went about doing good
and healing the oppressed.
37. "And it came to pass in those days that
she was sick and died, whom, when they had
washed, they laid her in an upper chamber."
Her workdays over, she is absent from her
body and present with the Lord; she has departed
to be with Christ, which is far better
(Phil, i., 21, 23; II Cor. v., 8); she has trulj
experienced a great gain. We are not told
if her sickness was long nor if she suffered
much, but sho has gone from them, and all
they have of her is the body in which she
lived and wrought among them. No, thej
have nlso her good works and blessed memories
of her.
38. "They s?nt unto him two men, desiring
him that he would not delay to come to
them." Lydda was not far from Joppa, and
the disciples, hearing that Peter was there,
sent thus urgently for him, for they longed
to have Dorcas with them once more. This
is the natural longing of the heart to keep
our loved ones with us even though we know
that their departure is their gain.
39. "All the widows stood by him weepinj?
and shewing the coats and garments which
Dorcas made while she was with them."
Fondly remembered bp what she had done,
they make us think of the words: "Blessed
are the dead which die In the Lord from
henceforth. Yea, saith the Spirit, that they
may re9t from their labor?, and their works
to follow them" (Rev. xiv., 18).
40. "She opened her eyes, and when she
saw Peter she sat up." Many miracles of
healing hud been wrought through Peter,
but this is his first case of resurrection from
the dead. Alone with the dead body, tie
poured out his soul to God, doubtless pleading
tho promises of God, the commission in
Math, x., 8, the assurance of John xiv., 12,
and withal askine in complete submission to
the will of God ("John xiv., 13, 14; I John v.,
14, 15). He must have received some assurance
that his request was granted, for he
turned to the body and said, "fabitha,
arise." And she sat up, looking upon him.
41. And he gave her his hand and lifted
her up, and when he had" called the saints
and widows presented her alivo." There are
three resurrections of the dead in the Old
Testament, three in the life of Christ, and
this is the flrst of three after his ascension
(Acts xiv., 19, 20; xx., 12). We have no
rtcord of any utterances of those who had
been deed and had been brought back to this
world. Paul says it was not possible for him
to utter what he heard in paradise (II Cor.
?* + frs
Xlt., i), UOUDIiess WUC11 uu nw aivuw >?
death ?t Lystra.
42. "And it was known throughout nil
Joppa, and miiny believod in the Lord." The
resurrection of Lazarus led to many believing
on Jesus (John xll., 11), and hero is another
case in which the Lord saw that a resurrection
would be the means of leading
many to Him. It does not seem as if Dorcas
would have been sent from paradise back to
earth without her consent. She may have
been informed of the results that would follow.
and for the sake of winning these souls
to Christ for Christ's sake she doubtless camc
back cheerfully tor His pleasure. We do not
know of any results from the resurrection of
the-many who rose when Christ did (Math,
xxvii,, 52. 53), but there was a reason for
their resurrection, and no doubt the result
which God intended. I think they went with
Christ to glory, while the nine previously referred
to probably died again.
43. "And it came to pass that he tarried
many days in Joppa with one Simon, a tan"
A?"i i"> wa toUI find him in our next
lesson. Preaching the gospel, healing the
sick, raising tho dead or just tarrying with
Simon, he Is nboul his Mnster's business and
doing as occasion serves him, knowing that
God is with him (I Sam. x., 7).?Lesson
Helper.
COURSE OF LOST RIVER.
A. Scientific 1'roblein Apparently Solved by
a Flood.
For many years the invisible course of the
famous Lost llivjr, which suddenly sinks J
near tho town of Orleans, Iud., has incited
scientific inquiry. No trace of this underground
river was over discovered until since
the recent heavy rains.
It is now believed that Lost lliver runs
directly under tho town of Orleans. This
belief is mainly based upon the fact that
during tho recent flood, tho water burst
forth Irom what was supposed to be a small
uave in such volumes that the town was
flooded.
The water has now ceased (o flow from tho
jave, but any one standing near tho entrance
can hear the rushing of tho torrent
apparently hundreds of feet below.
When borings were made for gas somo
/ears ago at Orleans, water pushed forth at
:he depth of 500 feet with terrific force.
NATURE'S COLORS PHOTOGRAPHED.
four BathH Necessary for the Prooer Development
or the Negative. i
Consul General Mason, at Frankfork, reports
to our State Department that the scl- J
entiflo sensation of the moment in Europe is I
a now and apparently successlul inathod of
reproducing in photography by chemical
means the colors of nature.
The process, which is a French one and a
secret one at prosent, controlled by a powerful
financial organization, depends ou the
I development of a negative In four baths, one
i colorless and the other rod, blue and green,
respectively.
The miracle appears in the faot that the
treament of the negative plate and positlvo
print by a limpid liquid imparts to tho latter
tho occult instinct of selective absorption?
in other words, tho power to absorb and assimilate
from soiutious of the primary colors
tho exact quantity and proportion of
each tint that Is required to produce all the
oolara
. . - v.... . . v -.?;paH3H a
. . ' ' ' ' r
< .JSfr . ' . . ;
TEMPERANCE.
ot;b jot and oub duty.
A pledge we sign with joy.
Up, every girl and boy,
To fight the drink;
Let each one find his place.
Ann men irom uoa seen grace i
To set through life the fase
Against the drink.
Would we our country save?
We must be true and brave, <
And steadfast stand;
Have faith in God and pray, .
Work, vote, and haste tne daj
That from the demon's sway
Shall free our land.
?Albert G. Lawson, D. D., in Temperance
Banner. . *
A SON'S PBOailBE. |
The following true incident is from the <
T7nn?i TT A TU1./1
lips Ui V-/UpitlllJ XiOUIjr JLL. AJC1T KJL IUO 0. una.
Regiment of New Hampshire Volunteers:
"We were lying on Morris Island, that
God-forsaken place, digging trenches, watching,
fighting, taking our chances from bullets,
shells and fever, but our men were
patient and brave, heroes, every one of them,
with the granite of their hills in their blood.
To show you what stuff they were made of,
I will tell you of one of the boys, a member
of my company.
"One day this fellow, not more than nineteen
years old, was brought in from the
picket line badly wounded. Apuinful surgical
operation was necessary. The surgeon
examined him and prepared a glass of
brandy, which he offered him. He refused
to drink It. The surgeon appealed to me,
saying: 'He has lost much Diood, and his
vitality is low. It he does not take this, I
can not answer for his life.' I said, 'Frank,
to ODlifiie mo yon will drink this brandy.'
"He said. 'Captain, I would do almost anything
to oblige you, but not this.'
" 'Frank, you have never disobeyed me.
You must not now. I command you to drink
this.'
"He looked up at me, his blue eyes dim
with the anzuish he endured, and replied,
'Captain, when you command mo to go to |
the cannon's mouth I will do it if I can, but
thii? I will ngt do.'
"I wiis getting excited, for 1 loved thisbov
ae if he had been my brother, aiid (ears I
could not restrain began to flow. I cried:
'Why do you pain me so? You are putting i
your life in peril. You have no right to do f
it. Drink this for yonr mother's sake.'
''He trembled, and tears his agony had not
wrung from him came to his eyes as he re- 1
plied: 'Captain, it is for my mother's sake i
that I will not drink this brandy. My father (
died a drunkard, and she has told me I may
have inherited this terrible appetite, and I 1
promised her never to taste the deadly poi- I
son that made her a widow and me an or- |
phan. If I die tell her I kept my promise.' "
By that time we were both crying like
girls.
"Did he die?" I cried.
"Oh, no; he made a rapid recovery. From j
that time my faith in brandy has been growing
less."
HOW TO BENEFIT A DBIJfKING MAN. 1
There is only one way to do it?take away '
the drink. It will not benefit him to give
him money, for he will spend it for strong
drink. The more money he has the more
liquor he can buy. Money helps him downward.
Give money to his family and he has
so much more to Dav to the saloon. Even
give them bread and clothing and he has less
of these articles to purchase, and conse- I
quently more money with which to buy |
whisky. Give him work and his wages go
to the saloon. Give him a good position In |
a shop or store and he barters It for rum. I
Give nim personal confidence and he betrays i
it. Give him time and he wastes it. Give (
him friends and he goes back on them. Give
him credit and he abuses it. Give him a 1
holiday and he uses it for revelry and shame.
Give him eight hours instead of ten for a j
day's labor and he has two hours more for ,
debauch in the saloon. But give him total
abstinence and he is saved. This will benefit
him and this alone. It will benefit his i
family, too. Just in proportion as it benefits
him will his family be benefited. They thrive
as he thrives; both rise together. Abstinence
lifts them all into a higher and nobler life,
as intemperance crowds them into degradation
and woe.?Sacred Heart Review.
TEMPERANCE IN BAILBOA.D SEBVICE.
The extent to which the temperance agitntion
has prevailed in railroad service is
shown by the comments of railroad managers
on a pending bill in the Minnesota Legislature.
The bill, if enacted, would render a
railroad company liable to a fine if it did not
discharge an employe in the train department
who was known to have been int:oci- I
cated. The only objection offered to the bill
Dy tDe rauroaa omcers was mat it wua tsuperflous.
Tne Milwaukee and St. Paul Railroad
has a rule which Is more stringent than the
proposed law. It reads: "The use of intoxicating
drinks has proved a most fruitful
source of trouble to railways as well as to
individuals. The company will exercise the
most rigid scrutiny in reference to the habits
of employes in this respect, and any employe
who has been dismissed on this account will
not be re-employed. Drinking when on duty
or frequenting saloons will not be tolerated,
and preference will be given to those who do
not drink at all."
TO BE PROUD OF.
"How does it taste, I wonder?" said Jamie,
as he saw Patriok Flynn take a glass of
steaming punch at the bar of a restauraut.
"Did you ever taste strong drink, James'/"'
said a handsome old man standing by.
"Never," said Jamos. "I wonder if it is
good?"
"I cannot tell you how it tastes,,' said Mr. I
Landers. "I am sixty years old, and have i
never tasted it in my life, and 1 am proud to (
say it. I see what it does. It tas cheated
poor Flynn out of his snug little home. It '
has clothed his poor wire ana cnnaren in rags
and made him cross and quarrelsome. It is |
liqui J Are. and theft. and|poison. I don't want
to know how it tastes."
"Neither do I," said James "Thank yon, 1
Mr. Landers, for what you have said- When
I am a man sixty years old, I, too, wiil have |
it to say, 'I never tasted etrong drink in my
life.' "?Ram's Horn.
I
WATER THE BETTER REMEDY.
Dr. James R. Nichols says: "Rum or alcohol
as an embrocation was lormerly regarded
as of the highest efficiency: but it is
now known that hot or cold water is a much i
better application for inflamed surfaces.
- aL. U., I
The external use ot aiconoi upon iut> uuuiuu
body under any conditions of disease Is prac- I
tically useless. It tnay serve to cool inflamed (
parts by rapid evaporation, but warm water
meets the same end, and more effectively. '
Alcohol in the form of gin, brandy, whisky
or wines may be banished from families as a ,
domestic remedy without risk to the welfare
of a siugla member, of any age, sex or con- <
dition." ]
i
ALCOHOL 8 INFLUENCE OK CHILDREN. i
M. Lancereaux is now engaged in demon- '
strating the influence of alcohol on children. 1
On growing children its effects are parti- 3
cularly lamentable. M. Lancereaux has j
closely studied two young girls from thirteen ,
to fourteen, born of alcoholic parents, and
accustomed to drink a liter and n half of
wine per day since the ace of three years. ,
They are victims to visceral lesions typical
of alcoholism, and present all the sinus of J
well marked "infantilism." These cases con- 1
firm the results of experiments on animals.
TEMPERANCE NEWS AND NOTES.
"There's mauy a slip 'twixt the cup and
tho lip," but the worst slip is apt to happen
after the cup and lip have met and parted.
A tablespoonfuI of alcohol diluted, taken
in the twenty-four hours, causes 4300 extra
heart beats.nnd in secondary effect narcotizes
the recuperative forces.
A prominent English physician of lone experience
with drunkards says that he can
recall huudreds of recoveries atnou?: men,
but only live among women.
The Denmark Temperance Society has a
membership of 40,000 member*, and receives
a government subsidy of $1500 per year.
Afier this year it is to receive ?2000 per i
I year.
The drunken father brings his wife and
children to poverty, he disgraces them, he
hinders them from attending church and
school;ina word, pauperism, ignorance and
vice are tho results of drunkenness in tho
father of a family.
The Daily Mail, of London, states that for ,
the llrst three offenses of drunkenness in
Turkey tho offender is sentenced to the
bastinado, but thereafter ho is considered a
"privileged'' or "imperial" drunkard.
When such a one is arrested, he has only to
give his name and address, whereupon he is
taken home and a bill for services sent him
the next day.
1
HOUSEHOLD MATTERS. ,^B|
PHIIHATTR SHORTCAKE.
Make a rich biBcait crust. Whe^^H
baked split; batter and place betwee^H|
the layers and on top a sauce made iflH
follows: Two oupfuls of rhubarti^^H
Btewed and sweetened, to whioh h&JHfl
been added, just before removing^!
from the stove, one oupful of ohopped V
dates. This filling may be used for
one-crust pies, but should be cooled
before putting in the crust and #
meringue spread on the top.
_______ \ I
HOW TO MEND GLOVES.
If you wish to mend your gloves
neatly turn them inside out and sew
them over and over with fine cotton
thread. Silk seems to cut the kid. If
there is a tear, set a piece of kid un> =4
it A aftAnMl^ nifh a fonT afi^VlOS
if you have not the kid of the right
jolor, use a bit of ribbon or silk.
Save the best part of the old pair to
mend the new. Court plaster will ^
mend a break nicely, bat always stif-, ,
[ens the kid.
FOB HEAVY "WAHHTNO. ,
Every honsekeeper should have
borax toap in the house. There is
nothing better with which to wash
flannels and blankets. To make it
take two pounds of good white soap,
three ounces of borax and two quarts
Df water. Shave the soap and put its
in a porcelain kettle with the borax \
and water. Place on the fire and stir frequently
until the sdap and water
are dissolved and combined. Pour the
hot mixture into a olean batter tab,
and when cold cover.
TO CLEAN BBASS AND COPPEH. ^
nn *V?n4- V* rt O VlOOn lortfltlflTOrl
JLJL ODO IIUBII uug wua mwv^uvavm
should never be treated with aoid ojt^m
any cleaning paste, bat qaiekly
trashed in warm ends and wiped per- V
fectly dry. Botten stone mpde into a 1
paste with kerosene is excellent for '
oleaning brass. Bab on briskly with ]
& woolen cloth, or a line brash if the
Barfaces are roagh, wash oft with hot
suds, wipe dry aad polish with chamois
or a dry woolen cloth. If this past^v
fails, use a strong solution of oxalioW^
water (made by dissolving the crystals
in cold soft water), wash oft with snds
and polish. A eolation of oxahc acid jB
is also excellent for oleamng copper - V
or stained china or porcelain. ?Kath- *
srine B. Johnson.
. -.49
V
BAKING HINTS.
If you do not want your cake to V
stiok to the j.an after it is baked, buttor
the dish, or pan, then throw in a
bandful of sifted dour, shake the pan
kill the flour adheres to the butter,
then turn the pan bottom up and beat
It so as to remove all the flour that
does not adhere. Do not allow the
cake to remain in the pan, after it is
done, for more than two minutes.
The whites of eggs beaten to a stiff
froth, with three teaspoonfuls of sugar
to each egg, and a teaspoonful of
breakfast cocoa, mixed with both,
makes a good filling for layer cakes,
when you do riot have plenty of sweet
cream; but do not try to make frosting
of an egg that has been chilled, as , '
it will not beat up nicely.
Do all know that a teaspoonful 'of
mustard put into a pot of beans th8<Q> ' j
are ready for the oven, gives them a*lj
fine flavor? Try it. This quantity is H
fnf a tVn-aa.nnnrt. haltinn'. 1
r?- BOILED
MUTTON.
To boil a leg of mutton select a fine - ;
fresh leg whioh is very fat Have the
bone end trimmed olosely to the flesh.
Put the joint in a large kettle, cover
it with cold water. Adda tablespoon*
fol of salt and a small red pepper.
Stand the kettle on a slow Are, and j
when the scam begins to rise on the |
water skim it off carefully, leaving
not even a fleck. After it begins to
boil cook the mutton slowly for two
hours. If you like it well done, boil t
it two and a half hours. 'Serve on a
targe hot platter. Surround the joint
with young carrots, boiled, and serve
it with caper sauce, which is a rich,
thick cream sauce to vhich capers
have been added. Do not be skimp*
Ing with the capers, put plenty ofv
them in the sauce, as well as plenty of
the vinegar in which they are preserved.
Boiled turnips, cut in slices
or in dice shaped pieces, and cream
spinach are in order as an accompaniment
to boiled mutton. Boiled potatoes,
with a strip of their peels oat
* 1 ' J aIiwowo VlA
on nan way rouuu, nuuuiu ain?;? uv
9erved with a boiled leg of mutton.
The water in which a leg of mutton
has been boiled should always be
saved to make mutton broth for dinner
the noxt day.
HOUSEHOLD HINTS.
To remove the smell of new paint,
lay a banch of hay in the room and
* t.
sprinkle it witn a nine vmuuus w. jm
lime; close the room for several honrs, ^
and when it is again opened the smell J
of paint will all be gone.
The railing of banisters is a part of 1
the house woodwork that requires fre- J
[jaent attention. This tail should first
be wiped oft with a oloth wrung from
i lukewarm soapsuds and wiped dry.
Mix two parts of linseed oil with one
part of turpentine; apply this to the
railing by putting a little on a flannel
md rubbing the wood; then polish it
with a fresh flaDnel.
To fry bacon so that it is crisp and
delicate, fry it over a hot firo, 'in &
pan 60 large that the slices do not
tonch ; turn the slices every minute or
two till tbey are nicely browned on
both sides, then take out upon coarse
wrapping paper and place in the ovon
a minute (still on the paper). Thifl
makes them crisp and nice. Never
serve bacon in its own grease.
If you wish to be sure the meringue
you are going to put on top of your
lemon pie or your pudding will not
fall, be particular to beat in the sugar
thoroughly. Many think that if the
egg is beaten to a htiff froth it is sufficient
to just stir in the sugar. Try
giviog it a thorough beating after the
sugar is in, and convince yourself
"what's the matter with the frosting."
Make your kitchen aprons with a
full ruffle across the bottom. Thi*.
will stand out from your dress skirt
and catch whatever you may drop or
spill, thus protecting the dress skirt.
The front of a dress skirt is often
soiled around the bottom because the
apron does not quite cover it, or is
drawn too tightly across it, but thie
ruffle will effectually prevent any soiling
of the dress.