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r ' i^;?l^*eee*eae ^^PHE.,FH ;wj rXfiovK BY AMELIA j&! __ ^Copyright, by Kobi CHAPTER VI. CONTINUED. "But it concerns me as Katherine's guardian. I never liked Mowbray, i t and my suspicions about liim have turned out to be correct. He will get some plain words from me the next time he tries to pass himself off as a great landed proprietor." "Is he notLordof Mowbray Manor? From all I can hear that estate is one of the finest in Westmoreland." "He is not; he said he was, but he is not." "I am sure he thought he was. No man could carry an assumed position with the perfect ease and dignity Mowbray constantly exhibited." "Why do you defend him? He is your rival." ,i "The truth is truth, even about my rival." He rose from the piano at these words, with the air of a iran reluctant to carry on a conversation. "You see, Jamie, I sent Langton to 4 Mowbray. He has found out some very strange things. Mowbray himself has fled to America." "Fled! I cannot believe it." "He is in New York, or very near _ It, by this time." "I am sorry for Katherine." "Sorry, indeed! It is a grand thing ( for a girl to betaken ontof the temptation of such a like scoundrel. I hope he will stay his lifetime in America. There is now nothing between you and , Katherine,"Jamie, and the sooner you , re married the better." Jamie did not answer a word. "Do you not think so?" "No." "I am sure I might as well live between the devil and the deep sea as between you and Katherine. Neither of you knows your own mind two days , together." j "Satherine's mind is my mind. Can I marry her against her desire? No, 1 sir. I will not upon my honor! I am ^ tired ?f the whole subject." j "Tired-of Katherine?v ] "Yes, if you like to take it so. I am , tired of being lectured and advised and planned for. You have no right ; to interfere between Katherine and ] " T4 ~ nf murlrllagnma myseu. id ? m mvuu.v..??. impertinence to fix any one's wedding- i day for them. If Katherino and I never marry, it is your fault entirely, uncle." , "Katherine would have married you ; if that scoundrel. Mowbray had not i come this way. Confound.the man! 1 And confound the minister for bring- i ing him to Levens-hope!" "Swear at your enemies to their faces and not behind their backs?that 1 is the way of the border. I wish the i subject of my marriage dropped. I ] will not have it spoken of in my house i again until it can be discnssed in a 1 different spirit." i "PerhaDs vou would rather discuss i the subject of your overdue mortgage 1 on Wintoun House?" 1 t. "Yes, I would. Let me know the i worst of the matter. I am tired of 1 that threat, also. How soon do you 1 intend to foreclose? I will roup my i whole estate and go to India with the < residue rather than be hectored and 1 ? threatened by you any longer." "Well, sir, I will threaten no more; i I will act." "That is a threat also." ] "You will find out. If I did right I 1 would take my walking stick and give < you the beatiug I ought to have given 1 you pretty often when you were a 1 poor, silly, friendless boy." i Jamie smiled and looked at the ' blackthorn shaking in his uncle's } hand. He had no fear of that threat, j and he did not heed its futile bravado. . - * i i * I He opened tlie parlor aoor ana, dowing politely, answered: "When you can visit me in a more reasonable temper, uncle, I will gladly 1 receive you. Billy I have often been; but never poor or friendless; and tlaat I liave not many more friends is entirely your fault." . "Do you order me eut of the house? , What do you mean, sir, by standing with the open door in j-our hand? j Shameful! Shameful!" "We will both of us go out of the house, uncle. Your horse is wait- . ing, and a gallop over the hiUo will be 1 ? better than quarreling over a lost | cause." "I never cxpected such treatment , from you, Jamie?never." I "I never expected you to provoko . me to it, uncie." They had walked together as far as the laird's horse. Tho auimal was champing on its bit and kicking up ( the gravel in a temper that very well , enited his master's, aud Wintoun hold him by the head until tho laird mount- j ed. Then bo turned away into tho ] thick shrubbery and endeavored to collect his thoughts and control the angry passions raised by tho interview. A sudden clearness of apprehension 1 had comc to him. Ho was amazed at i tho relief which a mere assertion of his ! right to refuso Katherinc had given 1 him. A wonder and a suspicion never before entertained now insisted ] upon being heard. But if Jamio was ] warm-hearted aud honest h( was not a ; Tery clear or decided reasoner. lie ....1 i- t? i,:? Wauieu suiucuut) iu iCiiouu iui mm, Choosing was always a difficult men- < tal exercise, and his hesitation was real and painful. Indeed, Jamie < Wintoun was ono of tboso men for whom it is "not good to be alone." A i quiet sit with his own heart gavo him no help: he longed for someone to talk : to. And lus tirst thought M as Jessy 1 Telfair. Ho knew that ho could tell her all that troubled him. Sbe loved 1 Kathcrine, and she understood him, 1 and he resolved after lunch to go to the manse and ask Jessy to take a 1 walk with him. A s tlioy sirnyed : about the hills Jessy would give him < the best advice about Katherine, for i i he was tired of trying to think out the j ] puzzle by himself, llo had given it: j . : . \ \ IWFP OF 1 r 1 1 jm * v v ALA .WATER. 1 I |STORY( , E. BARR. ' !KT Bonkxb'S SONS.) -m *e!et9*eoGtoi0Be^$ up, and was ready to be informed anci directeJ. Ju9t as he was sitting down to lnncl an old gentleman distantly related t( the Wintouns called upon him, an< Jamie was bound, both by his inclina tions and his interest, to be hospitabli and attentive to him. So lie was rnucl delayed by the visit, and the aftornooi was well advanced when he left Win toun House. Between it and thi manse there was tho little wood, and as the day was sunny, he took thepatl through it. It -was a path absolutely private, and orly used by the family and friends of Brathous, so he had m fear of meeting strangers there; ant yet it was most likely to be the roa< taken by Jessy if she was going to o coming from Levens-hope. Half way through the wood he sav Katherine sitting under the group o pine-trees. Her pink dress made t rosy flush in the green shadows; he: hat, with its white ribbons, lay besidi ?ier; her bright brown hair was braidet in a soronal above her brows. Jamii could not resist the opportunity fati had provided. He went to her aid* with the eagerness of a man who has i pleasant surprise. Katherine sinilet him a welcome. "I am waiting for Jessy," she sofid "She was to meet me here about fiv< o'clock. The minister is going awa^ for a few (lays, and Jessy will sta^ with nae. Jamie, you have been quar reling with your uncle again. H< came home in an awful temper. Yoi quarreled about me, too. It make: me wretched." "He is ao interfering. What righ Lad he to fix our wedding day?" There was a minute's silence, anc then Kntherine said: "Jamie, suppose we take our affairi into our own hands. Snppose w< agree this honr to be absolutely truth ful with each other?" "It will make me happy, Katherine, CJncle told me Mowbray had gone of to America; he inferred he had befcr forced to go?that he was not the mac lie pretended to be. Are these things 80?" "I will tell you the whole story, Jamie;" and sitting erect and looking li/?~ .-,1/1 lrvTTA? fnll in t.lia fae*a bTia AT. plained to him the circumstances which had taken his rival to Texas. "Did he do right, Jamie?" she asked, "Yes. He did what I should have sipected him to do. He has stolen pour heart, Katherine, from me, but ] lm not cad enough to deny him the beauty and the good qualities he possesses. Yet, oh, Katherine, I wished pou loved rae as you love him!" "I do not love you, and I cannot love you in that way, Jamie. What is more, you do not love me as Richard Mowbray loves me. I am not sun, noon and stars, heaven and earth, life and death to you. I am to Richlrd. There never was a timo when ny coming into the room made all :he room sensitive to you; -when my ?oice made you smile and cease speaking; when my touch made music :hrough your being, as the touch of ingers on the harp-strings do. You ind I have never been in love with ;ach other. Why should we pretend sve have?" "Oh, Katherine, [is that true of ne?" "yuite true, my mend, iou auaired my beauty; your vanity -was Mattered by Jack Nethcrby and others asking 'when you were going to ,ake the flower of Gala Water to ^Vinton House;' by rhymsters making nily doggerel verses like? Up and dowu p;aed Jamie Wlntoun, Proud nud happy he weel may be, ro win the Flower of Gnla Water, Beauty^ind boust of tho North Countreol' l)ut even if you wore proud and happy, pou never loved me." "Have you resolved, then, not to marry me?" "Yes." "And to marry Richard Mowbray?" "Yes." xnen jamie loosed sau ana troubled. He believed himself to be suffering very mucli. He had Bome remote, vague, Bwift passing idea of taking her rather roughly to task, and vowing never to give her up. But it was an idea -without vitality. He let it go. The mortification of her desertion -was the thought that made him (lush, and nervously bite his underlip; but even this had some compensation. His undo would suffer in the public gossip far more than he would. "You are thinking of -what people will pay?" iuquired Katherine. "Yes, there will be talk without end. I do not care much. It's no sne's business but yours and mine." "Jamie, have you courage to take the horns of this dilemma in your own bauds?to bo- my friend?to be Richard's friend.?to help us escape your uncle's interference?" Tlieu she look his band and said, coaxingly: "Jamie! I need your belp. Think that I am your little sister. For my sake will you tiy and like Richard? Fie is such a noble, generous, truthful man." "I never said or thought different. But it is not fair, Kathorine, to ask tne to like the man who has stolen four love from me." "Let that pass. Will you liolp us? N"o one can help ub os much as you :an." "Wbat do you want me to do, KathDrine?" "Make up your quarrel with my stepfather. Let him suppose yon arc willing that the preparations for our marriage shall go on. Richard will be ija'clc before the end of September." "But as you will not marry me, cvhat good can come from that attitude fn oiflinr r?F nc9n "I slrftU be allowed to remain at iiome with mamma until dear Richard lomes back. But if the laird knows 3ur marriage is broken off, I shall be jent to school, I know not where; isrhapa to France or Germany. And ,q the meantime every day will be a terror full of threats and reptoache You know how wretched he can mal the whole house." "And when Mr. Mowbray does coir back? What then?" "We shall be married." "Your stepfather will not permit i He will raise no end of objection! And until you are of age you cannc marry without his coneent." " "I have mamma's consent; that enough. I shall marry the man love, and no other.^' "Have you, then, thought of runnin away to be married?" "I do not think of running fa Jessy and 1 were wishing, Jamiewe were thinking that perhaps?yo I might be so very good?so wonderful) kind as to let us be married at yot 1 house!" ) "Katherine!" I "You see, we could not expe< - Doctor Telfair to take any part againi b the laird, and I do not like to tru 1 the Hislops or the Nctherbys; bu : oh. Jamie, it would be like going to - brother's house to be married if yo b would not mind our having the cer , mouy at Wintoun! You would m i mind v&rv mncli. -would vou. Jamie' Y Her proposal struck him first wit Y pain antl amazement. He could bard] 3 credit it. That Katherine shoul 1 marry Mowbray from bis bouse wit 1 bis sanction, was an outrageous paroo1 r on tbe expectation of years. Helaugh? hysterically at tbe prospect; but as si: r urged ber plea and gave one reaso f after another for it, be began to realij i that such a supreme resignation of a r his own claims would really be bot ) his noblest revenge and his clearei 1 justification. And when Jessy joine d them sbe was not long in pointing ot e how effectually such a move woul s take the sting out of all his friend i condolences. They would be out < 1 date, tame and unnecessary. Talking over tbe matter, they linf . ered in the wood until tbe sun set, an i even then it kept presenting new vie\i Y or unforeseen difficulties. Jessy pt Y them all aside. She was full of r< - sources for Katherine and comfortabl a words for Jamie; and be felt her kin i smiles and the touch of ber sympj i thetic hand to be a great consolation. At the garden gate they saw the 1 ail t standing. Wintoun went frankly 1 him, and said: I "I am sorry we had cross words th: morning, uncle. Excuse my ill-ten i per." ) And the laird, after a proper hesitt tion, looked over the offense. Rathe: ine then undertook the propitiatioi , and succeeded well with it. She mad f no promise, and yet Brathous unde: i stood that she preferred marriage t i school, and he took all else for grantee i Jamie walked behind them, wit Jessy at his side. They stood a mc , ment before a bed of superb pansiee ; andJessy stooped and gathered on and gave it to Jamie. i "Heart's-ease!" she said softly. ' And Jamie looked in her cheerful pretty face, and felt that it would b > delightful to kiss her smiling mouth, i "I am so miserable, Jessy," be said ! "Butyououghttobe happy, Jamie, ? she answered. "You have been grand ly unselfish." 1 "Katherine does not love me. Sh says she never has loved mo. I ar i not handsome." i "Yes, you are handsome, and [ most perfect. gentleman. No ol< knight ever behaved more chivalroue ly than you have done tho last bqu or two. And I think you deserv more love than Katherine can giv you." Then bo looked affectionately dowi at his little comforter, and presse* i ber arm closer to his side, and fel ' that life was not altogether a blank. So tbe next few weeks went onwari with a kind of dull acceptance o events. The laird advised Jamie to have his house put in more moder: ' order for his bride, and Jamie eagerl; entered into his own suggestions an< sent to Edinburgh for decorators am i fine furniture; in fact, rather overdii his uncle's ideas. But tho young mai was beginning to nurse a new hopeone which Katherine had revealed t him, and which bis heart accepte< with a thrill of delightful amazement It became a common afternoon even for the ladies to ride over to Wintoui and see what the workmen were do ing. And always Mrs. Bratlious an> Katherine wandered away together and always Wintoun and Jessy wer left to look after .their own amuse ment, while almost insensibly "Win toun grew confidently hoppy am rather overbearing in his opinions,am Jessy quieter and more beautiful, ye no one could say just when this chang began. [to be continued.] A Bumble-Uce Eater. The lobby of the Elkton Hotel ha for years bcen-headquartera for politi cians, bondholders and gentlemen o means and leisure, gndtheintellectua sparnug ueiweeu i/ueiu i? wicu imcr esting and sometimea amusing. Ai instance is of recent occurrence. Or this occasion sat together City Judg Clements, Dr. F. M. Perkins, Colone D. J. Page, ex-Judge Perkins and Col onel Jim Luckett, the noted trader Colonel Luckett told a story that th other boys say just simply takes th rag off the bunh and absorbs the cab with all the flavoring. "It runs about as follows," say 1 Colonel Luckett: "You know tlia about this time of year the farmor. 1 mow their meadows, aud in tlaes : meadows bumble-bees often have bi| uests. In oldeu times people used tc cut their meadows with a' blade, aui ono African did the work. My falhc It ml fli a inn-it remarkable colored ser vant in the world, named Obedior This Obedior didn't caro a straw fo bumble-bees. He wore nothing oi his person but his pants, and from hi hips up was totally bare. I bavo see; ; Obedior stir up a nest of these bum ble-bees, and as they alighted on his naked shoulders he picked them o( and ate them, without so much ns got ting a sting or losing a lick with hii scythe. "If you doubt my word yon can asl Creed Penick; he knew Obedior," fcliiton (ivy.) rrogress. The greatest fruit-growing Stato i Missouri. The value of its fruit croj exceeds that of California by $2, 500,000. The apple crop alono i valued at $12,000,000, -while thccntin fruit crop is worth about ?10,000,000 In the consumption of sugar ill I United States leads the world* -l * IfV. . JL " I " Z THE REALM i ; *3-33-33is I New York City (Special).?Leaf- | green satin-faced cloth, effectively g trimmed with applique of black satin folds in scoll design, with narrow r, anutache braiding, is illustrated in i A d A STILISH GOWN. rg it this stylish gown. The draped vest 3- and stock collar of crepe-de-chine are le in the palest robin's-egg bine tint, d Several stylish features are embroidv ered in the unique shaping of the waiBt, the scalloped fronts that join d the shapely collar in shoulder seams' :o and extend in fanciful epaulettes over the sleeves being new and attrative. is Glove-fitting linings that close in ceni tre front support the outer portions of the waist proper. Upward-turning i- pleats deftly arrange the fulness of the draped vest over a smooth plast1, ron, that is secured to the right front e lining and closes over on the left. The r- stock collar is closed in centre back, o the Medici collar flaring prettily 1. around at the sides. The sleeves are u e+vliaVilv crafhorA^ in the arm's-eve. LI O- - ?r - ? | ). the wrists having a slight rounded j, flare. A blank satin ribbon crush belt e\ is worn at the waist. The skirt has the clinging, eel-like tendency at the top that characterizes the new modes, j | \ . BESTTYPE OF Mil l ' - flaring below the knees and falling in 0 soft folds. It is shaped with a nar1 row front gore and two wide circular portions, fitted at the top by small t darts. Two backward-turning pleats a meet over the placket that is formed i- at the top of the centre back seam, cl Braided ornaments aro used in clos t ing. Extremely charming will this e design be found for gowns of broadly cloth, Venetian, poplin, velvet, satin, t- taffeta orthe new novelties now shown, j rl ! nViAnillfi and silk. nassfircenterie. rt j ruched or frilled ribbon, lace or irregit i nlar jnsertion providing suitable gare | niture. To make this waist for a woman of medium size will require one and onehalf yards of material forty-four inches wide. To make the skirt will 9 ! require three and one-half yards of same width material. f ] Shirt Waist For a .lllif. The shirt waist of 1899 is characa terized by the yoke extending less i over the front, the moderate fullness Q i and shaping of the sleeve, less pouch I at the waist line in front, and more . ! elaborate neck decoration than ever Bonn liofnrp Til nlnr?n r?f the Rimnlf* . I " ? ? f?-- i? I 0 ! linen collar a stock -with projecting 0 : flare portion at the top is ofttimes wore, e i and a very dressy effect is g?ven by ribbon passed twice around the neck s ' and tied in a small bow with long ends t j at the front. Pink and white striped B | percale is daintily depicted in the large n engraving with a stock tie of sea foam g green taffeta ribbon. The fronts are , gathered at neck, shoulder and waist ] lines, the closing being made with , studs or buttons through buttonholes . worked in the box plait that edges the right front. The back is laid in side [, j plaits, three on each side turning to^ I ward the center, and the yoke that j i forms the upper portion meets the top ^ edge in a pretty curved point at the centre. The yoke extends far enough j _ over the shoulders to hold the gath I ered edges of the full irouts firmly in position without detracting from the ? stylish shaping or the length of front that is necessary to a handsome figure. The fullness at the waist line may be regulated by a draw tape. The fashionable sleeves are gathered top and bottom, link cuffs completing tho wrists. Theslashedopeningsore faced by overa laps and narrowly hemmed or faced ? on the under side. Waists in this " style may be of silk, fine woolen or s wash fabrics, foulard, taffeta and u Japanese silks, lawn, dimity, ging. ham, plain and checked nainsook. pique and organdy being found among !i e the newest materials. ; ; : ;' " - ^' v::y ;; ? .% \ OF FASHION, ? To make this 8hirt waist for a miss fourteen years old will require two and five-eighths yards of thirty-inch ma* terial. Tlie Style in Wash Waists. Wash waists are made this year with less fulness at the front, the excessive "pouch" of last season having given way to a slight looseness at the belt. It may not be said that yokes are in fashion or not. One maker approves them, another does not. One designer tucks his waists crossways, another does not tuck them at all, but gathers them at the collar, back and front, and of Hia holt. Nothiner in cut is com- | pulsory in this year's wash waists, except that they tend to make the wearers look slight, and fit. But fashion calls for stripes, not plain goods. To find a shirt waist made from plain fabric one must search in out-of-theway places. Half-inch pink, or blue, or red, or yellow, or lavender stripes and white are in the extreme of fashion. The narrower the stripe the less extreme the style. It matters not whether the lines ran up and, down or aiound, so long as they run some way. Collars are adjustable, shirts being made only with a narrow band at the throat. But cuffs do not come off. Madras in the desired fabric for smari plain shirts. A Handsome Slilrt TVaist. A pretty white shirt waist of lawu is a solid mass of narrow tucks back and front. The little flaring cuffs are tucked and the sleeve is plain, except at the top, where there are a dozen or more tucks running across. The standing collar is tucked, and so is the turned-down collar, which forms little lapels in front, allowing the tucking inside like a small, pointed vest. / Some Pretty Trimming*. Fine nainsook embroideries with medallions of lace introduced here and there add pretty variety to the season's trimmings. Irish point and Venice point effects are also prettily reproduced in the cotton embroideries for trimming cotton summer gowns. Lawn Rnfflet For the Gowdi. Lawn ruffles in white and pale colors can be bought all hemstitched ready for use, and if you want to make your white lawn gown especially chic, scallop all 'the ruffles in hand embroidery. CoRtame For a Girl. Light-gray cheviot trimmed with ISES* SHIRT WAIST. rows of narrow black braid is shown in this graceful skirt, which is circular in shape, with seam in centre back. The right front laps over the left, where the closing may be made, or the placket may be finished in centre back, if so preferred. The skirt is * fitted with small darts at the top, which may be omitted, and the fullness ileld easy to the belt when sewing. Two backward turniug pleats meet over the centre seam in back, and are held closejy together by silk placket buttons, which are provided with cord loops for closing. The skirt may form part of just such a costume as illustrated here, or be made separately to wear with fancy, silk or cotton shirt waists. Plain self-colored cloths are in good taste, cashmere, serge, cheviot, as well as piquo and crash for midsummer GRACEFUL CIHCULAK SKIBT. ! , wear, all being suitable materials for skirts iu this style. To make this skirt for a miss fourteen years old will require three and three-fourths yards of material fortyfour inches wide. Kibhon* Much Sought After. Taffeta ribbons in checks and plaids always hud p. ready sale, and the dot- ! ted styles are a;?;uu souijut a:tsr. v . ^ r;^.j DR TALMAGES SERMON^ ! SUNDAY'S DISCOURSE BY THE NOTED DIVINE. Subject: "The Acidities of Life"?The Cop of Vinegar Which Christ Took J* Typical of Life's Bitterness?This is the Lot of the Distressed. Test: "When Jesus therefore had redelved the vinegar."?John six., 30. The brigands of Jerusalem had done their work. It was almost sundown, and Jesus eras dying. Persons in crucifixion often lingered on from day to day, crying, begging, cursing, but Christ bad been exhausted by years of maltreatment. Pillowless, poorly fed, flogsed?as bent over and tied to a low post His bare back was inflamed with the scourges interstlced with pieces of lead and bone?and now for whole hours the weight of Hla body hung on delicate tendons, and. according to custom, a violent stroke under the armpits had been given by the executioner. Dizzy, nauseated, feverish?a world of agony is compressed in the two words, "I thirst!" 0 skies of Judrea, let a drop of rain strike on His burning tonguel 0 world, with rolling rivers and sparkling lakes and spraying fountains, give Jesus something to drink! [f there be any pity In earth or heavon or hell, let it now be demonstrated in behalf of this royal sufferer. The wealthy women of Jerusalem used tU IlttVO t% 1UUU Ui UiUUOJ TTUU ITU1VU tUCy provided wine for those people who died In crucifixion, a powerful opiate to deaden the pain, but Christ would not take it. He wanted to die sober, and so He refused the trine. But afterward they go to a cap of vinegar and soak a sponge in it and put it on a stick of hyssop and then 'press it against the hot lips of Christ. You say the wine was an anesthetic and intended to relieve or deaden the pain.. But the vinegar was an insulc. In some lives the saccharine seems to predominate. Life is sunshine on a bank of flowers. A thousand hands to olap approval. In December or in January, looking across their table, they see all their family present. Health rubicund. Skies ttamboyant. Day? resilient. But in a great many cases there'are not so many sugars as acids. The annoyances and the vexations and the disappointments of life overpower the successes. There is a gravel in almost every shoe. An Arabian legend says that there wa3 a worm in Solomon's staff, gnawing its strength away, and there is a weak spot in every sartbly support that a man leans on. King George of England forgot all thei grandeurs of his throne because one day, in an interview, Beau Brummel called him by his first name and addressed him as a servant, crying, "George, ring the bell!" Miss LangIon, honored all the world over for her poetic genius, iB so worried over the evil reports set afloat regarding her that she is found dead, with an ompty bottle ot prussie acid in her hand. Goldsmith said that liis life was n wretched being and that all that want and contempt could bring to it had been brought and cries out: "What, then, is there formidable in a jail?" Correggio's tine painting is hung up for a tavern sign. Hogarth cannot sell his best painting except through a raffle. Andre del Sarto makes the great fresco in the Church of the Annunclata at Florence and gets for pay a sack of corn, and there are annoyances and vexations in high places as well as in low places, nbowing that In a great many lives are the sours greater than the sweets. "When Jesus therefore had received the vinegarl" It is absurd to suppose that a man who has always been well can sympathize with those who are sick, or that one tfhn has always been honored can appreciate the sorrow of those who are despised, or that one who has been born to a great fortune can understand the distress and the straits of those who are destitute. Tlie fact that Christ Himself tooft the vinegar makes Him able to sympathize to-day and forever wlti the sharp acids of this life. He took the vinegar. intneurst pince, more was ice sourness of betrayal. The treachery of Judas hurt Christ's feolings more than all the friendship of His disciples did Him good. Yon have had many friends, but there was one friend upon whom you put especial stress. You feasted him. You loaned him money. You befriended him in the dark passes of life, when he especially needed a friend. Afterward he turned upon you, and he took advantage of your former intimacies. He wrote against yoU. He talked against you. He microscopized your faults. He flung contempt at you,-when you oughttohave received nothing bat gratitude. At first, you could not sleep at nights. Then you went about with a sense of having been stung. That difficulty will never be healed, for. though mutual friends may arbitrate In the matter until you shall shake hands, the old cordiality will never come back. Now I commend to all such the sympathy of a betrayed Christ. Why, they sold Hire, for less tbtM our $20! They all forsook Him and fled. They cut Him to the quick. He drunk that cup to the dregs. He took the vinegar. There Is also the sourness of pain. There nre some of you who hare not seen a well day for many years. By keeping out of drafts and by carefully studying dietetics you continue to this time, but, ob. the headaches, and the side aches, and the hack aches, and the heartaches wblcbjhave been your accompaniment all the way through! You have struggled under a heavy mortgage of physical disabilities, and instead of the placidity that or.ee characterized you it is now only with great effort that you keep away lrom irritability and sharp retort. Difficulties of respiration, of digestion, of locomotion, make up the great obstacle in your lrfe, and you tug and sweat along the pathway and wonder when the exhaustion will end. My friends, the -brightest crowns in heaven will not be given to those who ia stirrups dashed to the eavalry_cbarge, while the General applauded and the sound of clashing sabers rang through tbe land, but the brightest crowns In heaveD, I believe, will be given to those who trudged ou amid chronic ailments which unnerved their strength, yet all the time maintaining their faith ia God. It is comparatively easy to Ugbt In a regiment of a thousand men, charging up the parapets to the souDd ot martial music, but it is not so easy to endure when no one but tbe nurse and tbe doctor are the witnesses of tbe Christian fortitude. All the pangs or all tbe nations of uli the aires compressed into ona sour cup. Ho tost tbe vineg.-'.rl There is also tho sfcursess cf poverty. : Your iucome does not meet your outgoings, | and that always g.ves an honest man anxiety. There is no .sign of destitution about you?pleasant appearance and a cheerful borne for you?but God only knows what a time you nave bud to manage your private finances. Just as the bills run up tbe wages seem to run down. You may say nothing, but life to you is a bard push, anil when you sit dowu with your wife and talk over tiio^espouses you both rise up discouraged. You abridge here, and you abridge there, and you get things snug lor smooth sailinsr. and, lo, suddenly there is a large doctor's bill to pay, or you have lost your poeketbook, orsoraedebtorbasfailed, and you are thrown abeam end. Well, brother, you are iu glorious company. Christ " 1 H.ul.Aiica in Wt? I UWUCU LlUi tuUUVUJV 1, r ? I or the colt ou "which He rode, or tbe Goat in which He sailed. Ho lived ia a borrowed housr?. He was buricl in a bor-I rowed grave. Exposed to all kinds of weather, yet Ho had only one suit of clothes. Ho breakfasted in the morninc, anJ no one could possibly tell where He could tret anythiug tc eat before night. He would liHve been pronounced a financial failure. He had to perform a miracle to get money to pay a tnx bill. Not a dcllar did He own. Privation of domesticity; privation of nutritious food; privation of a comfortable couch on which to sleep; privation of nil worldly :resources! The kings of the earth had chased chalices out of which to drink, but Christ had nothing but a plain cup set before Him. and it was very sharp, and it was very sour. Ke took the vinegar. There were years that passed alons before your family circlo was invaded by death, but the moment the charmed circle was broken everything seemed to dissolve. Hardly have you put the black apparel iu LUM Wliruruuc UCIUIO >UU liutc ,v take it out. Great anil rapid clmuge9 ia your family record. You got the house mi'J rejoiced iu it, but the ebar-u was #>ito assoou as the crape Into:? oa the d?;ori? II. I'he oiio upon whom you .riost ?! '} > ? 1" l was taken away from you. A coM 'nari ! . slab lie? on your heart to-day. Once, as the children* romped throusn the iiouse. you j ut your hand over your dcbing head Had said, "Oil. if I could only Lave it ........ ...- - .J-.,- - -I stllll** Ob, it Is too utill now, Yon lort your patience when the tops-and tb? strings and the shells were left amid floor} but. oh. vou would be willing to have the trinkets scattered all over tlTe floor again it they were scattered by the same hands. WUli what a ruthless plowshare bereavement rips up the heartl Bat Jesus know? ail about that. You cannot tell Him any* thing now in regard to bereavement. He bad only a few friends, and when He lost one it brought tears to His eyes. Lazaru? bad often entertained Him at his house. Now Lszarus is dead and buried, and ./ Christ breaks down with emotion, the con* vulslon of grief shuddering through alltheages of bereavement. Christ knows what it is to go through the house missing a familiar inmate. Christ knows what it lft to see an unoccupied place at the table. Were there not four of them?Mary and > -J Martha and Christ and Lazarus? Four of them. But where is Lazarus? Lone'.yand 1 afflicted Christ. His great loving eyesfllled 1 with'tears! Oh, yes, yesl He knows-all about the loneliness and the'heartbreak. He took the vineararl , V Then tbere Is the sourness of tbe death hour. Whatever else we may escape, that ncld sponge will be pressed to our lips. I sometimes have a curiosity to krfow bow I will behave when I come to die. Whether I will be calm or excited, whether I will be filled with reminiscence or with anticipation. I cannot say. But come to the point I must and you must. An officer from the future world will knock at the "?? door of our hearts and serve on us the writ of ejectment, and we will have to sur- q render. And we will wake up after these . j autumnal and wintry and vernal and sum-- >; mery glories have vanished- from oar ' r, vision. We will wake up into a realm ' which has only one season, and that the season of everlasting love. But you say: "I don't want to break oat, from my present associations. It is so. chilly and so damp to go down the Etalxe,' of that vault. I don't waut anything; '\ drawn so tightly over my eyes. If there i were only some way of breaking through V <; tbe partition between worlds without tear- V ing this body all to shreds! I wonder if .V the surgeons and the doctors cannot aom- I pound a mixture by whloh this body and A soul can all the time be kept together. Is p tbere no escape from this separation?" ' None, absolutely none. A great many men "3d tumble through tbe gates of tbe fatore, as- vj it were, and we do not know where they uu>d ^uuc, uuu luojr vmjr auu ^iuuui and mystery to the passnge, but Jesus 3 Christ so mightily stormed the gates of . ^ that future world that they have never |a since been closely shut. Christ knorfa "4 what It Is to leave this world, of th?' beauty of which He was more appreaia* - v tlve than we ever could be. Ho knows- <f> the exquisiteness of the phosphorescence \ of the sea; He trod it. He knoto) th? glories of the midnight heavens, for they were-the spangled canopy of His ..wilder- '' ness pillow. HeJcoowsaboattheJUles; H? twisted them into His sermon. He knows about the fowls of the air; thev whirred ?vthey way through His discourse. He knows- , < about the sorrows of leaving this beautiful ? world. Not u taper was kindled in the ' ^ darkness. He died physician less. Hedied in cold sweat ana dizziness and hern* morhage and agony, that have put Him it* . ,'J sympathy with ali the dying. He goes through Christendom and gathers up tb? stings out of all the death pillows, and He puts them under His own neck and head. ^ To all those to whom life has been an acerbity?a dose tber ooald not swallow, . a draft that set their teeth on edge and arasping?I preach the omnipotent sympa-' 4. thy ot Jesus Christ. Tho sister of Jrer- I schell, the astronomer, used tQ spend mucb of her time polishing the telescope* through which lie brought the distant worlds nigh, and it is my ambition now jmd this hour to cleur the Ions of your spiritual t*iaian da thnf InAlrtnfv fIipaiktVi fha HnrIr ? Itlivu OV i>uuif JVV/auifi, luivugu fcXVI WM*?? night of your /eartbly troubles wo V may behold the glorious consteu*<'> fl tlou of a Saviour's mercy and V a Saviour's love. Oh, my frieDds, do cot try to carry all your Ills alone! Do not put your poor shoulder under the Apennines When the Almighty Christ is ready to lift 1 up all your burdens. When you haver a trouble of any kind, you rush this way and ; JJ tbat way, aa<l you woader what this man A will say about it and what that man will say ; about it. and you try this prescription and ,i thnt prescription and the other prescript" J Hod. Ob, why do you not go straight to J, the heart of (Jurist, knowing that for oar .i<** own sinning and suffering race He took the Vvinegar? : There was a vessel that had been tossed ? / on the sens for a great many weeks andbeen disabled, uud the supply of water gave out, and the crew were d^ing of thir3t. After many days they ?aw a sail against the sky. They signalei U.-wVEhen ; the vessel came nearar, the people oa the J suffering ship cried to the captain of the < I Aflmr vocfloh "fium? na ar.mn tvntArl Wrt nro dying for luck of water!" And tb? captain on the vessel that was bailed reSDtnded: "Dip your buckets where yon are. You are in the mouth of the Amazon, and there are scores of miles of fresh water ^ all around about you and Hundreds of feet deep!" And then they dropped tbelr?^ tuckets over the side o! the vessel and brought up the clear, bright, fresh water and put out the Are of their thirst. So I j hall you to-day, ufter a long and perilous voyage, thirstiug as you are for pardoa, and thirstiug for comfort, and thirsting for eternal life, and I ask you what is the use of your going ic that death-struck * state, while all around you is tho deep, clear, wide, sparkling flood of 'God's sympathetic mercy? Oh, dip your bucket? . ^ aDd drink and live forever! "Whosoovri^ will, let him come aad take of the water ol , / life freely." Yet there are people who -refuse tbi# Xj divine sympathy, and tbey try t(0 light their own batties, and drink their own vinegar, and carry their own burdens, and their life, Instead of being a triumphal march from victory to victory, will be a ; hobbling on from defeat to defeat until they make flual surrender to retributive ; disaster. Oil, I wish I could to-day gather % up ia my arms all tho woes of men and wotneu, all their heartaches, all tneir reappointments, all their chagrins, and just 5 take there right to the feet of a sympathlz- f inp Jesus! He took the vinegar. Nana v: Sahib, after he had lost his last battle in India, fell back into the jungles of Iherl ?jungles so full of malaria that no mortal >5 can live there. He carried with him also a ruby of great lustre and of great value. Iiodied iri those jungles. His body'was ' ) aever found, and the ruby has never yet been recovered. And I fear tha:t5-apy there nre some wuo will fall back frtfen this subject into the sickening, killing jun- ; gles of their sin, carrying a gem cf infinite value?a nriceiess soul tc bo lost forever. Ob, that that ruby might flash in til* eternal corocatlonl But, no. There are '<3 some, I fear, who turn away from this '5 offered mercy and comfort and divide sympathy notwithstanding that Christ, for all who accept His grace, trudged the Ion* way, and suffered the lacerating thongs, ^ and received iu His face tho expectorations of tho flltbv mob, and for tho guilty, - -> ?? una tllH ui.scour.i^uu, uuu me uiscwjiwau of the race took the vinegar. May God Almighty break the infatuation and lead you out into t!ie strong hope, and t?)e good i cbeer, and the glorious sunshine of this triumphal gospel! . /:i KOREAN SOVEREIGN'S REFORMS. Surprise* His' Subjects With Ain .rlcao 1'iiiformn? His Cue Gone. According to advices, which hare been received from the Orient, the Emperor of Korea has caused aseusation by appearing ii. a full uniform cut in American fashion, His attendants have also been attired ir American style. Tim Emperor, it is stated, has cut ofT tiie short eue "which, from tira* immemorial, has adorned the tcp of the Korean Emperor's head. Tho riots which recently occurred between the reform and conservative elementf of Korea have subsided. Tho reformist* were victorious in a large measure. Th* new budget will make a liberal provisioj , [or school. J To Build a Palace of Salt. Something now and fresh ic the way o* palaces is to be erected io Sale Lake, Utab, shortly. Cities in a cold climate erect lc? palace?, but Salt Lake intends to put up t salt palace. Millions of tons of suit roc* :tr? available, and a committee has beer appointed to con.pleto the arrangements Jt is said Hint thora aro no difficulties in ih? way of making the proposed palace entire |y of salt. A Biblical Verne in Many r.anpnaces. The American Bible Society has issued > pamphlet giving a verse from the Bible it the 2415 languages in wiiici the society cir> culates the Bible. -1