The Abbeville press and banner. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, April 12, 1899, Image 6
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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