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. >3p30is C?r~ _ D-?-i A NO^ 131? fQrs. Slisabc {!5AB?.Li-A " (Copyright, 18P2 and 1153, by R CHAPTER II. a rCONTINUED. "Hnsh, dearest! You must learn *' what Dolores may have to say about 8 it," Mrs. Hamilton said, with an in- c dulgent smile; for it was as easy to s promise this "sister" to her (laughter 8 as it hail been iu her babyhood to p promise a new doll. And though this t gift might present other difficulties, * there was time enough to inquire T about that. So when Dolores at c length awaked, after a refreshing T eleep, Mary quickly stooped over her, v and kissing her with enthusiasm, ex- I claimed: * it-tr?. >? <>? tninn tn Inn TP 11 ?L C xuu ai o iion |,uiuK vw . - ?, Dolores! You are going to stay with |s us always! You are to be my sister!" t A warm flush of joy overspread the s young stranger's face, and her eyes 1 became dewy and soft with grateful * emotion; and Mary Hamilton was t quick to see that it was not the pros- I pect of ease and luxury that caused c that flush, but the far greater joy of I having found affection and apprecia- c tion in a world that had so long been r a cold and barren wilderness. "You don't know me," she said f tremulously, but with the happy con- 1 sciousness that even such a serious 1 drawback was going to be disposed of. 1 *'T Ke??nn flnn'fe know what I a. J may be." i "Just so!" said Mary, gayly. "That c only helps to make it all more inter- c esting. Whatever you may be, it is t sure to be something fine. Oh! you 1 may trust me! I'm better than a gypsy ] for reading faces?women's faces, I x mean. I don't understand men a bit. t But I forget: I'm not to talk to you. t Doctor Mac said I was not; but, you c m see, I am an awful chatterbox. Now, e just one word more, dear: Tell me: Is t there any reason why we two?you and r I?may not be lawfully joined together, r as they say in the marriage service, as 1 sisters, for better, for worse, in sick- t ness and in health, through good or i evil report, so long as we both shall t * live?" ] "No," answered Dolores, with a c smile that merged into a deep sigh, i rooson nf. all. so far as I know. for I I am alone in the world, -without rela- 1 tive or friend or guardian, quite alone, 1 without a soul to love or oven hate me i ?till I met jou this morning." ? "How delightful!" exclaimed Mary 1 Hamilton. "I mean, you dear thing, ? how sad and dreadful for you, but how ' delightful for me?because I can have < you all to myself. And now. just one J word more, Dolores, have you no other ] name? Something for every-day use, you kuow. T wouldn't have your 1 name changed for anything, it is so j characteristic?a real Spanish name. < But it means 'sorrow?sadness;' it 1 would make me cry if I had to call you 1 Dolores all the time." 1 "My mother called me Lola," said \ TTV^I 1 TT on/1 or r?nm nnninTi 1 JL/U1U1C3 ouui y, auu uv& noted the quick catch in her breath, { and instantly remembered that the 1 Spanish girl's worn dress and hat had 1 shown all the humble signs of mourn- i ing their owner had been able to be- < stow on them. She guessed rightly i that Dolores had but recently lost the 1 mother whom she could not yet name f without emotion. i "Lola, and sometimes Lolita," the < girl continued, "for these are the i pretty diminutives of my name in the 1 Spanish language. But my mother 1 was not Spanish. She came from the Scotch Highlands, and I have often ] heard her say she loved the canyons | ?nrl mnnntnins of California for that 1 reason. My father was of Spanish au- 1 cestry, and it was to please him that I ' was called Dolores. It is a family < name, and there is a legend that tells 1 how a far-off ancestor of my father ac- i companied Columbus when he discov- ] ered this new world. But he was not 1 an ancestor to be proud of." i "How splendid!" exclaimed the de- 1 lighted listener. "It is like a story, ] only so much nicer when one knows i the characters or their descendants. 1 But I won't call you Lola or Lolita? 1 I wouldn't let any one can me oy iue . dear little pet names sacred to my own mother. Any one I care for enough may call me Mary or Polly or Molly; but no one may use mamma's pet i names; and so it shall be with you, i too. I will choose something for my : very own; what do you say to Loraor Lorita or Rita? They are all pretty, and I shall call you Lorita. And you ; shall have a name for me, too; chooiie vne for yourself." "Why not 'Maruja?' You see I am fond of Spanish names, and 'Maruja' is our prettiest for 'Mary."' "Agreed!" cried Polly, clapping her bands like a child. "And now we inust be good. If Doctor Mac finds ^ou feverish when he comes to-moriow, I shall be greatly blamed; and he will think me incapable of having charge of his patient." Dolores smiled happily, and as the eedative administered by Doctor Macrlonald still held possession, her eyelids presently drooped and she "was , boou in a deep sleep. Within the next ten days these two young girls who had met so strangely had become devoted friends; and the Spanish girl's history, so far ns she knew it herself, had been freely and frankly discussed. CHAPTER III. A FLOWER OF THE HEATHER. The mother of Dolores bad bien the only child of an improvident Scotchman of good family, who hail ruined his estate, broken his wife's heart and alienated every relation and friend belonging to bun, and finally capped the climax of his follies by leaving his native land to seek a fov. _ il 1.1 f.lifnvnin tune 1U VUtS fcuh?-?v?v?o vri uouiv.hm,, To aid him in that wild quest, he liad taken with himhisgol 'en-haircil little >daughter, Alice?a being so cxquisito in her beauty and innocence that even in the wild uproar of the San Francisco of '50, the motley crowd among whom Iter fatlior brought her, believed her a veritable nu-fel dropped down from a weeping heaven to shed ! - t f] * {regsOre. 3?t> /EL. ? ?infer LSTELAR.) ODERT BOJINKB'S SONS.) last ray of light into the darkness. In the midst of scenes too shocking or her to understand, Alice Lyndsay ;re\v to womanhood, as pure as the alia lilies tnat now grow m wuoc treets, rearing their snowy cups high ,bove the black earth from which they pring. Her father, who was a born ohemian, easy-going, clever, bright, aster ox half a dozen languages, and >ossessed of a voice that might have harmed a sitting mavis off its nest, i*as soon hail-fellow-well-met with the wildest class of San Franciscans, and ong before Alice had reached womanlood, he had made and lost half a lozen fortunes. One night, he was hot in a row at a faro table, and at he age of eighteen, Alice found herelf an orphan, homeless and penniess. But her father's death was not he worst misfortune tbat happened o her. She had been seen and loved )j a young Spaniard, who had lacked :ourage to press his suit, but who jlessed the opportunity her loneliness md grief now gave him. Alice maried Rafael Mendoza, and, though rom that hour all worldly prosperity orsook him, his happiness in her ove was so great that he never quite ealized the misfortunes that pursued lim. At the time of his marriage, Menloza had been one of the rising men >f the San Francisco of that day?a iity that might then have been called he Phoenix of the Pacific coast, for it lad risen from the ashes of four San ?ranciscos that had gone before, a icher, fairer, prouder city tnan any hat had preceded it, and destined to )e the foundation of the now beautiful tity of the Golden Gate. He was ilso rich in flocks and herds on disant ranches; rich in gold and bonds; ich in fabulous wealth *of treaslre and of gems said to be juried in some far canyon of vhich he alone held the' secret, ind richest of all in the possession of ;he one woman he had ever loved. 3ut from the day of his marriage a :urse pursued him. His flocks and lerds died; his gold melted away; his jonds became waste-paper; and finally lis mind failed, and he sank into lelpless imbecility.' From this last nisfortune he only roused occasionilly for a few lucid moments, when he vould frantically kiss his young wife md child, and murmur, helplessly; 'The curse of the Mendozas?the :urse of the wronged and murdered [ndian girl! Why has it come to me? 3ow have I deserved it?" rryt i i..**-! O If J. lie ueauiuui oeuura lueuuu^n puuu juried her husband in the lonely caniron of Santiago, where, in his last lays he had entreated to be taken, in :he forlorn hope of finding the hidden measure "whose secret he had once cnown. But it was too late; his shiit:ered brain could no longer think,and lis hand had lost its cunning. His jrave was dug not twenty feet from ;he buried treasure, and Alicc, with ier child, wandered far away, beggars !n everything save their love for each 3ther. The Senora Mendoza, who spoke English beautifully, thanks to 1- ? ? f n A*? AV\lnino/1 flio LltSI* UUUCIiiiaU iatuu, VUIUIUVU |/w sition of governess to a Spanish family who were on the way to the Eastern States; and after a hundred vicissitudes and a complete breakdown in the health of the still beautiful senora, :hese two lovely women drifted into New York?harbor for every kind of aumau wreck. Dolores, whose elegant figure had obtained her the position of saleswoman in a cloak-room, liad been able at first to pay their ivay; but when her mother's health ieclined so rapidly that her condition became desperate, she was obliged to resign her position in order to give ber the necessary care. From that time the gaunt specter of poverty pursued them, and its terrible eyes met tho eye of Dolores wherever she looked; but she fought it off day and aight till her mother kissed and blessed her for the last time. To buy the light for that dear, de^d form to lie in hallowed ground the poor girl bad gathered together every shilling Bhe yet owned; and that being insuf ticient, fine naa men soia every urumc Bhe possessed of furniture and of clothing?and on the day when ohe first saw Polly Hamilton she had been walking to and fro on the earth, face to face with death by starvation? praying only that it might not be Ions to wait. CHAPLER IY. THE SILVER LINING. As soon as Dolores waB well enough to come downstairs, she declared her I^ ^ i ? 4 ^ r\f rofn vr?iri re f/\ ILUUiCUlUtC lUtUUViV/M V* vw her humble apartment, where she had left tho few trifles that belonged to her. Mary instantly volunteered to accompany her. "I could not let you out of mj sight, dear," she said, jestingly; "you might not return. And what in the world do you suppose the woman of the house thinks of your absence?" "That I have run away to cheat her out of the few shillings I owe her for rent," said Dolores, with momentary bitterness. "Tho poor,even more than the absent, are always in the wrong?but I am ungrateful to say such things when I have found such dear, generous friends. Truly, the cloud bad a silver liuingof the brightest hue, though I was long in finding it." With quick, impulsive affection she embraced Mary and Mrs. Hamilton, who was becoming as fond of this new daughter as even her own child could have wished. "It is like a dream of heaven," continued Dolores, "when I remember the hopeless misery of that day of our first meeting. 1 didn't know then why ] followed you, Maruja; it seemed an impulse to look for"ta moment on uface. no oilier mau my owu, uu wuiuu bcviuuu the light of perpetual sunshine, while on mine seemed the constant shadow of darkness. Er.t J have sioco though; it may have been the whisper of some uk.'v - - -? ' '.TV f good angel that drew me after you Yes, yes, life would now b e heaven [ here, and -with yon, xt?ix oniy my ^ mother could be with me." The large, soft eyes filled with tears, | and though she grieved to see them, g Mrs. Hamilton could not wish Dolores | to be less conscious of the loss she had ( so lately known. I "I can never fill her place, dear," ^ she said, "but try to feel that I love J you as I would wish to have her love ? ! my little Polly." < "Come. Lorita; here is the carriage. " f And Mary led the way, with Jher customary airy, light-hearted manner that I covered a depth of feeling she was not williug to display at all times. ^ "If she supposes that you have run 1 | away," continued Miss Hamilton, as | the two girls were driving down-town I toward the wretched place that had been for more than a year me iiome ot Dolores and her mother, "perhaps your landlady has taken possession of your things to pay the debt you owe her." Dolores laughed outright, with something more like merriment than Mary had yet heard from her. "All I own in the world, Maruja, would not bring a dollar if sold to the highest bidder, with the single exception of my mother's picture. I call but hope that Mrs. Brown has not burned the lot as rubbish; a few letters and a manuscript containing the fj legend of the Mendoza family and other trifles valuable only a.s keep- ]| sakes; for if they could have been exchanged for money, they, too, would I have gone long ago. The manuscript is a curiosity; mamma found it among my poor father's papers after his death. It might interest you, dear, because . you care for mo; it could not interest any any one else, except for antiquarian reasons." "I Pope the woman has not destroyed it!" exclaimed Mary. "What a girl you are! The heroine of I don't know how many romances, or, if not the actual heroine, something even better? the heir to whole centuries of romance. Some great artist shall paint you as an allegorical figure representing the genius of the New World. It would be suitable for the Colum bian Exposition to celebrate tne great anniversary." "What a fanciful idea! But don't be uneasy about the manuscript. 1 don't think Mrs. Brown would burn it." "No," said Mary, "for women attach a sort of" superstitious value to anything like documents." Dolores only smiled in answer, and Mary saw that her face had taken on a strange, rapt! expression, while her " eyes deepened and glowed as if they 8 saw i into some far away, unknown. a realm, beyond the reach of other eyes. It was a look tbat Mary had seen once or twice before on the face of her new 6 friend; and though it had startled her, ? she understood already that while it " continued it was useless to speak to n Dolores. * The carriage had proceeded rapidly, and they bad now reached a part of the town known only by description to the child of luxury, who, although her hand was at all times open to the . cause of charity, dispensed her bounty by means of various kindly messengers. The squalid children that thronged the streets and lanes, the dirty and reeling men and women collected in groups on the sidewalks and on the street corners, would now have been alarming but for the presence on the carriage-bos of the faithful James, who, with many misgivings and I strange questionings in his perplexed mind, drove with exceeding care ' through this vile neighborhood. At last the carriage stopped in front of a tenement a few degrees less squalid than its general surroundings, and at the same moment Dolores started, or ns her eoinnanion would have said, "came back to earth again." "This is the place," she said, preparing to descend from the carriage as James opened the door. "No, Maruja; I cannot let you come into this place. Your mother would T not wish it." And the words were ~ spoken with emphasis that left no b room for argument. o TO BE CONTINUED. ft t; Kinpty Praise. To little men and women of the literary profession, the poetasters and witlings, there ought to be something ^ instructive in this word from Thackeray, quoted by his daughter, Mrs. Ilitchie. After reading such an esti- jmateof notoriety by a man truly great, ^ the minnows may well consider whether they are not swimming too f pretentiously. ' "There's no use denying the matter, or blinking nt it. now I am become a ? O "" ' t 111 XI sort of great mau, in my way?all but ^ at the top of the tree, indeed there, if the truth were known, and having a great fight up there with Dickens. "I get such a deal of praise wherever I go that it is rather wearisome ^ to hear. I don't think ray head is a r bit turned, please God, for I have al- " ways got my own opinion; and when a meu and newspapers say, 'Our sheet is the finest,' aud so forth, I know a n deal better, and don't disguise the a truth, either. t ?i? l.i #?ii f( "XU1H lidUUUU W Uli *.1 in lull v.i good-natured tom-fools, and directly ? one begins to cry 'Ob!' all tbe rest jj pay, 'Prodigious!'" fi A YV;i{;'a Iiute. Some years ago .1 well-known col- 0 lector, who is also a wag, caused tbe ' tj publication of a story tbat an old iady J jj in Albany, N. Y., bad died and left in ' 0 ber will a provision tbat ber valuable j v collection should be divided among i a the collectors in tbe United States j ^ wbo were fortunate enough to own ' jj Brattleboro stamps. He announced r himself as the executor of the estate. ; v In that way he was able to locate all j e tbe Brattleboro stamps iu tbe world, j u and succeeded in buying one, which be bad long coveted. A Fire'Cnuwl by n Paperweight. What might have been a serious fir B was started in Newark, N. J., by a r glass paperweight. The -.veigiit be- j i longs to Police Captain Ubliaus, who ! fi , JeTt- it the other day upon his desk. I F Daring the captain's absence the sun 1 * shining through the glass set fire to ! * the paper, burned through the blotter 1 * . beneath, scorched the varnish on the \ * i desk, thus putting the whole building in danger. Fortunately ^he discov- ^ cry was made in time to prevent tho i lire from spreading. ... t c i '"' - ; . . I Tmnm $ | Designs For Costurr I come Popular in gmmffniinw H * "'*?* i"? Wwdtt r.iirp ISnppio 1 ^ __T}i4? I All*" J. VI>A ? ? ? deepest pitfall in the path of the amateur milliner is the messiness of prevailing styles. Amateur milliners A PICTURESQUE MODEL. ;nd to messinese, and when the projssionalB lean that way also the re- ' nit is something to admire?"wonder ,t" is the original meaning. In their search for the picturesque tie new hats are piled so high and wathed oo deep with superfluous oraments that all the symmetry of the ead and figure is lost in these monulents of misdirected industry. While the large toque with rolling RIMMED WITH STITCHINGS. A H0U3 rim of velvet come9 nearer than any J ther to being the prevailing mode, 1 s almost invariably becoming to pret- 1 y hair, the small, close-draped velvet Dqne, worn over the face, is also a ivorite to accompany tailor dress. It s trimmed -with stitched bauds of : loth.or silk, and a bird or an airy utterfly is added for garniture. A striking piece of headgear is the ccompanying example taken from the )ry Goods Economist. It i3 a bat of rown and blue velvet, with roses lerging from ecru to dark-brown surounding the brim. The butterfly hows both- colorings on a cream ronnd. The collet is of velvet, lousseline de soie and renaissance ice T?ith gold buttons and cord. ~ TVaUti, Bodice* and BJoime*. None but flattering comments are to e made of dress waists as they now eveal themselves, and powerful as as been the effort to coax women to cceptmore decoration on their skirts, he waists, bodices and blouses of the majority of costumes contiuue to steal 11 the real glory and color. Stitching is in high favor as a finish 3r wraps and costumes. A fine ex' ' *--* J ?i. m4:*AV? mple 01 a waisi irimmen wuu nua-uigs is shewn in the large engraving, everal gowns were seen with no other rimming save rows and rows oi fanc?al stitching in some contrasting color. Blouses are now exactly like those f previous years. They are made ighter and over a very close fitting ining. The pleats, which used to be n the upper part of the bodice, and rere widened at the breast, puffing out nd enlarging the waist, are continued o the belt, kept flat, and sewed with ingerie stitch. These pleats are aranged in every possible wny, longwise, horizontally, diagonally, as inertions. tto. Collars are still ma:le ' :pricht. fee of Clienillc in Millinery. r There is a new kind of chenille i rimming?a moss-liko silk braid tarred with points of chenille?that nay be used merely as decoration ov >e sewn up into toque or capote hapes. It seems likely to take the dace of jetted and spangled trimmings his winter. There are toques and ricorns, both with turned-up brims, arreted or scalloped, made of Bueh iraids. One of the latter, of a pale, iky-blue tint, has a wreath of blue re vet forget-me-nots between the ;rim and crown, and rather far back j m the left side a dark green bird, the '! i . ' .? , A . y fMMUirn I ies That Have Be- f| the Metropolis.^ j| tinder side of itsjvings dyed pale bin?. On a picture hat of black velvet the chenille braid is used as a trimming for the high, straight crown, which is i .li.. utiiiueu ttiieriiiiieij wnu \Yiinc uucuiuo braid and ronleanx of the velvet (six bands of each), and also for the nnder side of the brim, rouleaux and braid being placed in the same way alternately. Two black ostrich feathers and a white paradise fastened to the crown by a brooch, complete the decoration. TIio Newent Form of Cloak. The newest Jong cloak for theatre and general evening wear is crepe de Chine. It is lightly stretched around th? shoulders to about the elbow, and from this point to the ground all the fullness is set into narrow little ribbons or tucks, doing away with all folds or flutes. This is a reversal of the usual order of thinge, tucks and straightness below the elbow instead of above it, as for a tall, slim woman the innovation is very becoming. The high collar of this cloak is edged with feathers and the edges of the front and all aronnd tbebotton are bordered with netted silk fringe. Effect of a Well-cut Corset. It is extraordinary what a trans-" formation a well-cut corset will effect in a woman's appearance, and how, without any perceptiblg pressure, the waist may be lengthened even as much as two inches. This is really a very important consideration at the present time, when princess dresses and eelskin skirts are so popular, and any one who wishes to have an elegant and graceful appearance should first of all give consideration to the corset, otherwise the work of the dressmaker is likely to be lost. Seqdins Are Fashionable. w Sequins are to be seen on many things this winter, particularly on thin goods with lace effects. "White gowns of net are covered with them, but they must be sewed on curefully, and home sewinc is usually better than that of'the ehops. It is better to have no sequins at all than a sequin off here and there. It is a degree worse than a missing hoot button. Skirts That Are the Mode. This season's styles fulfil a twofold n i E BODICE. RED FLANNEL BLOUSE. mission. They make the stont woman look thinner, and the slender woman becomes a ^.ream of loveliness and shapeliness when she dons a princess effect gown, a short jacket and Directoire hat. Every skirt is tight fitting about the hips and very much flared around the bottom, sleeeves are small., collars high, some basques are shown, and fringe is the acme of novelty. The favorite model in skirts will be a seamless circular shape, fitting like a glove over the hips and back, and flaring at the bottom to the width of from four and a half to five yards. This flare is very perceptible as the skirt is held up, with one hand holding the bottom and one tha belt. Tho front breadth, which used to be cut perfectly straight in order to insure a "good hanging skirt," is now perceptibly flared in the skirts, which are made on the gored pattern, which willalso be very much worn. The shirred A SHIRKED SKIRT. skirt dufiicn here sbovrii is one of the i 0- ? mason's favorites S* -? . -i . _ -t. ' : >. DR. TALMAGES SERMON. ! i SUNDAY'S DISCOUf?SE 3YTHE NOTED j DIVINE i < k < Subject: Oar Father's House ?God's ' Homestead, Builded on the Hills of Heaven, Provides Rooms For AllVivid Pictnre of the Celestial Home. [Copyright, Louis Xlopsch. 1899.1 Waahixgtos, D.' C.?Ia ? unique way the heavenly world is discoursed upon by Dr. Talmage in this sermon under the figure of a borne; text, John xlv.,2, "In My Father's house are many room?." Here is a bottlo of medicine that is a 1 cure all. The disciples were sad, and ' Christ offered heaven as an alterative, a stimulant and a tonic. He shows them that their sorrows are only a dark background of a bright picture of coming felicity. He lets them know that, though now they live on the lowlands, they shall yet have a house on the uplands. Nearly ' all the Bible descriptions of heaven may be figurative. I an not positive that in all heaven there is a literal crown or harp or . n?nrlv crittA nr thrnnA nr /Oiiirlftf Thov may be only used to illustrate the pjlorlea 1 of tho place, but how well they do it! The 1 favorite symbol by which the Bible pre- * sents celestial happiness is a house. Paul, * who never owned a house, although he 1 hired one for two years in Italy, speaks of 1 heaven as a "house not made with hinds," ( and Christ in our text, the translation of c which is a little changed, so as to Rive the T more accurate meaning, says: "lu My * Father's house are many rooms." * This divinely authorized comparison of ^ heaven to a great homestead of large ac- J aommodatlons I proposfc to cafry out. In * some healthy neighborhood a man buiids P a very commodious habitation. He must > have room for all his children. The rooms 1 come to be called after th&different mem- T bers of tbe family. That i/motber'sroom, ' that Is Oeorgft's room, that is Henrv's room, v lhac 19 Flora's room, that is Mary's room, F and the house is all occupied. But time 1 goes by, and the sons go out into the * world and build their own homes, and the a daughters nre married or have talents enough singly to go out and do a good t .work in the world. After a -while the/ * father and mother are almost alone in the ^ pig, house, and, seated by the evening F 'stand, they say, "Well, our family is no D larger now than when we startedi together 1 forty years ago." But time goes still ?; further by, and some of the children are <unfortunate and return to the ohl home- a stead to live, and the grandchildren come n with them and perhaps great-grandcbiijren, and again the house is fall. P Millennia ago God built on the bills of heaven a great homestead for a family in- t' numerable, yet to be. At first He lived alone In that great house, but after awhile it 7 was occupied by a very large family, cher- J able, seraphic, angelic. The eternities " passed on, and many of the inhabitants P became wayward and left, never to return, P nnd many of the apartments were vacant. 0 I refer to the fallen angels. Now these * apartments are filling up again. There are arrivals at the old homestead of God's c 2hildren every day, and the day will come ? wUen there will be no unoccupied room In 11 all the house. A As you and I expect to enter it and make " there eternal residence, I thought you 11 would like to get some more particulars b about the many roomed homestead. "In 0 my Father's house are many rooms." You C sec, the place is to be apportioned off into C apartments. We shall love all who are ia 91 heaven, but there are some very good peopie whom we would not want to live with J In + V> n oflmA Tlian mn? ha Kflff IE 1X1 IUO OlUIiO i VVUIl A Uu J Uitl J W UO.kVl than we are, but tliey are of a divergent J1 temperament. We would like to meet with *c them on the golden streets aod worship s< with them in the temple and walk with a! tbum on the river banks, but I am glad to P say that wo shall live in different apart- - S( ments. "In my Father's house are many Q rooms." You see, heaven will be so large P that if one wants an entire room to himself "] Dr herself it can be afforded. 8' An ingenious statistician, taking the a; atatement made in RevelatioD, twenty-flrst ai jhapter, thut the heavenly Jerusalem was measured and found to be 12,000 furlongs " and that the length and height and breadth cl jf It are equal, says that would make le heaven in size 948 seztillion 985; quintlliion b' ;ubic feet, ana then, reserving a certain portion for the court of heaven and the streets and estimating that the world may bl last a hundred thousand years, he ciphers s< Dut that there are over 5,000,000,000,003 ^ rooms, eaoh room seventeen feet long, sis- 13 ceen feet wide, fifteen feet hlgb. But I have m ao faith in the accuraey of tnat calcula- r< :ioD. He makes the rooms too small. From ^ ill I can read the rooms will be palatial, ? and those who have not had enough room ,D in this world will have plenty of room at J" ihe last. I should not wonder if, instead ic >f the room that the statistician ciphered 01 3ut as only seventeen feet by sixteen, it .1 1.1 U- 1.. 41 , 0 ? bl jLK'UiU uo ittrger iuuu unv ui iuo iuuiuj 01. ~ Berlio, 8t. James or Winter palace. "Ia "I ay Father's house are many rooms." ^Carrying out still further the symbolism of the text, let us joiu hands and go up to p this majestic homestead and see for our- ^ selves. As we ascend the golden steps aa "j Invisible guardsman swings open the front " door, and we are ushered to the right into the reception room of the old homestead. That is the place where wo first meet the welcome of heaven. There must be u place where the departed spirit enters and a d< place in which it confroats the inhabitants m celestial. The reception j;oom of the new- y iy arrived from tills world?what scenes it d( must have witnessed since the first guest arrived, tho victim of the first fratricido, ^ pious Abel! ?ln that room Christ lovingly greets all newcomers. Ho redeemed th?ni, and He has the right to the first embrace on J* arrival. What a minute when the ascended Eplrit first sees the Lord! Better than all st we ever rea l about Him or, talked about m Him or sang about Him In all the churches ; and through all our earthly lifetime will it be, just for one second to see Hlra. us The most rapturous idea we ever had of to Him on sacramental days or at tho height w ol some great revival or under the uplifted w baton of an oratorio is a bankruptcy of nI thought compared with the first Mash of ju His appearance in that qpception room. At >? that moment when you coufront each 01 other, Christ looking upon you and you tii looking upon Christ, there will be an ec- 1(3 static thrill and surging of amotion that >'c beggar all description. Look! They neud m no Introduction. Long ago Christ chose J'( that repentant sinner, anil that repeutnit 3inner chose Christ. Mightiest moment of e:l an immortal history?tbe first kiss of J1 heaven! Jesus und the sotfl! Thesouland Tesus! *u But now into that reception room pour at the glorified kinsfolk, enough of ourtbly }n retention to lot you know them, but.with- >n out their wounds or their slckuesses or m [heir troubles. See what heaven has done w for them?so radiant, 90 gleeful, so ,n :ransport'ngly lovely! They call you by ,,L name. ny greet you with ua ardor proportioned to tlie anguish of your parting r' and the length ol your separation. UI Fatherl Mother! There is your child. J" Sisters! Brothers! Friends! 1 wish you J," |oy. For yeurs apart, together again In the reception room of the old homestead, i'ou see, they will know you are coming. There are so many immortals filling all the . spaces between here and heaven that news 1 like that llles like lightning. They will be there in an instant. Though they were in some other world o,*; errand from God. a frignal would bo throvrn that would io fetch them. Though vou might nt first or foel dazed and overawed at their super nal splendor, all tbat feeling will be gouo at their first touch of heavenly r? {salutation, and we will say: "Oj. iny 1 r?st OS hiiv'" "Oil mv lost coin nan ion!" "Oil. ! Tl :nv lost friend! Are we here together!" ?"?* Wiint sceues iu that rcje^tiou room of tlie Jo okl homestead have been witnessed! There ?e met Joseph nnil Jacob, finding it :t brighter *? room than anything they saw in Pharaoh's i 'r palace; David and the little child for whom ye ho once fas tedaud wept; Mary and Last- stl arus after tho heartbreak r>f Bethany: ur Timothy aud grandmother Lois; Isabella a) Graham and her sailor sou; Alfred and wi George Cookmau, tho mystery of the sea -3nt last ni.'ifo manifest; Luther and Mngdalone, the daughter he bemoaned; John Howard aud the prisoners whom ho gospelized, and multitudes without number mi who, onco so weary and so sad, parted ou Gi earth, but gloriously met in heaven. Among lis all the rooms of that house thero is no ono lis that more enraptures my soul than that as reception room. "In my Father's house tit ure mauy rooms." s!i Another room iu our Father's hou?o i< Ei the tbroue room. Wo belong to t!o royal wl family. Tlio bloo*l of Klug Jesus Hows in our vein**, po wo have a right to outer the throne room. Il is no e:isy tliTuv' OU earth to g"t through hvhu t'?" ontsMi?<loor of a king's rer-lileuct'. During the Franco-Ger- Si* ? ? m ????? 1 ?: man war, one aventlde In the summer of 1870,1 stood s J tidying the exquisite sculpt - \ uring of the gate of the Tollerles, Paris. . ; Lost In admjintlon of Ae wonderful art of :bat gate, I knew not tbat I was exciting < suspicion. Lowering my eyes to the crowd* *?'. >f people, I found myself* being closely in- , * ipected by the government official*, who. .,'s from my complexion, judged me to be a Geriinn and tbut for some belligerent purpoM [ might be examining the gates of the palice. My explanation in very poor French - \ ild not natlsfjjr tUem, nnd they followed m?- , Ions: distanced until I reached my botelt ?5 ind were not satisfied until from my land- % lord they found that I was only an Inoffen- / live American. The gates of earthly pat aces are carefully guarded', ana n so, now\ . > much more the tbroaeroom! A dazzling,^ place is It for mirrors and all costly art..' No?one who ever .saw the tbroneroom olT the first and ODly Napoleon will ever for-: <et the letter'N embroidered in purple and{ "; ;old on the upholstery of chair and win- $j low, the letter N glided on the wall, the _ /, otter N chased on the chalices, the letter ' flaming from the celling. What a con?. ' lagration of brilliance the thronerooni >f Charles Immanuel of Sardinia, ot . Ferdinand of Spain, of Ellziibetb oC2d gland,, of Boniface of , Italy. Bat", he throneroom of our' Father's hou??' -t lath a glory eclipsing all the throne-- , ooms that ever saw scepter wave or crown/, j.-d rlltter or foreign embassador bow, for ontr : / Cither's throne Is a throne of grace, & hrone of meroy, a throne of holiness, ft : v. brona of justice, a throne of universal' lomlnion. We need not stand shivering,; ind cowering oerore it, ror our Jf'atner says' ve may yet vne day come up and sit on It ie9lde Him. "To him that overcoihetti fill I grant to sit with Me In My throne.'*' ' fou see, wo are princes and princesses* 'erhaps now we move about incognito, as 'eter the Great in the garb of a ship oar- '>? enter at Amsterdam or as Queen Tlrzah . a tho dress oI a peasant woman seeking he prophet for her cnlld's cure, but It '( rill be found out after a while who we ar* rhen we get into the tbroneroom. Aye, \ re need not wait until then. We may by >rayer and song and spiritual uplifting bis moment enter the tbroneroom. [ing, live forever! We touch the scepter' ;* nd prostrate ourselves at Thy feet. Another room In our Father1* house It he music room. St. John and other Bible rrlters talk so much about tho music of leaven that there must be musio there, ierbaps not such as on earth was thrum-, -j ned from trembling string or evoked by ouch of ivory key; bar, If not that, the? Xf* omethlng better. Thero are so many Ihrlstian harpists and Christian composers nd Christian organists and Christian bym- ' oioguts mat nave.gone up iroatearia^ r.v< tiere must be for them some place ofesecial delectation. Shall we have musle* v7? 1 tbU world of discords and no mueic in \ ieland of complete harmony? In that music room of our Father's hous?> ou will some day meet the eld masteHL ^ [ozart aqd Handel and-JIendelssoho and leethoven and Doddridge, whose sacred oetry was as remarkable as his paered rose, and James Montgomery and William ^ owper, at last got rid of bis spiritual meU . ;,ao ncboly, and Bishop Heber, who sang orGreenland's icy mountains and India's' }- ' oral strand," and Dr. Baffles, who wrote I "High in yonder realms of light," aad mac Watts, who went to visit Sir Thomas . bney and wife for a week, but proved '? Imself so agreeable a guest that they ludo him stay thlrty-slx years, and sida y side Augustus Toplady, who has got -n ver bis dislike for Methodists, and barles Wesley, freed from bis dislike for til Yin 1st s, and George W. Betnune, as veet as a songmaker aa be was great <-V* i a preacher and the author of "Tb?; illage Hymns," and manv who wrot?< i verse or song, in'cburch or by eventide radle, and many who were passionately ft >nd of muslo, but could make none them :lves, the poorest singer-there more than j'w oy earthly prima donna and the poorest < layers.tbere more than any earthly Gott- I"~h shalk.' Oh, that music roonl, the head* unrters of cadence and rhythm, sym~ bony and chant, psalm and antlphonf lay we be there some hour when Haydn V u; ts at tlid keys of one of his own oratorios/ > ad David the psalmist Angers the barp?.-.:A d Miriam of the Bed sea banks claps ths . ''yj ymbals, and Gabriel putt bis Hps to tb* umpet nnd the four and twenty elder? 'bant, and Lind and Pareparender match*. ?? iss duet in the music room of the old . eavenly homestead! "In my Father** < ouse are many rooms." Another room in our Father's honse will a the family room. It may correspond' , f, jmewhat with the fnmilv room on eartb*1 jJiJ t morning and evening", you kno%-.tbati. the plnce we now meet. Though every,t ?'$ ember of the household have a separate jom, In the family room they all gather,' . nd joys and sorrows and experlences of v J styles are there rehearsed, tiaored room , "& i all our dwellings, whether It be luxurf- ? as with ottomans and divans and books i Russian lids standing in mahogany case r tbere be only a few plain chain and a, ndle.' So the family room on high will; ' j9 the place where the kinsfolk assem- % ie and talk over the family expert- . ' J$ ice?' of earth, the weddings, the rths, the bnrlals, the festal days ofi -1^ brlstmas and Thanksgiving reunion.! . 'ill the children departed remain chll-' ren there? Will the aged remain aged * " /] lere? Oh, no! Everything is per-1 ct there. The child will go ahead to glorl-: ? 3d maturity, and the aged will go back. i glorified maturity. The rising sua off ie one will rise to meridian, and the; :sceodlng sun of the other will return to] . ' erldlnn. However much we love our- > illdren on earth, we would consider It a; . jmestic disaster if they st&ld children, .. id bo we rejoice at their growth here. >i.i ud when wfl meet in the family room of lrFuther's house we will be glad that' v ley have jrrnndly and gloriously matured, . ? bile our parents, who were aged and in-* rm here, we snail oe glad to find reored .to the most agile and vigorous 1m- /;' ortallty there. I hope none of us will bo disappointed jout getting there. There is u room for t / i If wo will go nud take it, but In order* y?i i reach it it is absolutely necessary that' e take the right wey, and Christ is th? ay, and we must enter at the right doorv id Christ is the door, and we must btart ,'it Hmn nmi th? nnlv honr von are sure of the hour tlie clock cow strikes, and th? , 'J lly second the one your watch is now aking. I hold In my hand a roll of .'1 ttera Inviting you all to ?ake that. >ur home forever. The New Testa- ' "s ent is only a .roU of letters inviting'. >u, as the spiri^ of them practically , ,.vs: "ily dying yet immortal child la \ ' trtbly neighborhood, I have built for yoa greut residence. It is full of rooms. I i ive furnished them as no palace was ever i mlabed. Pearls are nothing, emeralds e nothing. chrysoprasus is nothing, illur inert panels pf sunrise and sunset nothg,the aurora or the northern b?aven? >tbing, compared with the splendor witb bicli I have garnltured them. But yoa ust be clean before you can enter there, id so I have opened a fountain where yoa ;iy wash all your sins away. Come nowl it your weary but olenused feet on tb? nvard pathway. Do you not see amid i) thick foliage on tho heavenly hilltop* < o old fnmliy homestead?" "In my ither'd house are many rooms." FREE POSTAL DELIVERY. ' K Great lncroaae lu the lUrelpU at Poatoffice* Effected Last Year. In working on bis annual report First Asitaut rostmaster-General Heath in Washgcon is surprised anil pleased ut the fav? ubie showing or the free delivery service. iere are now 73Sfree delivery offices. The imberof carriers is 14.25G. Ttie gross celpts were $63,957,815.81, as against *56,~ 1.804.08, uu increase of 21.G4 per cent. ^ io Increase of *12,276,011.13 in tlie gross venues is more than double the receipts r the year 1877-1S78, a ad this vfl&t bustf; ? *f? whs' done nt increased co'jt of oaly.N . v >18,293.00, or 3.9 per ceut. a lower porcente of-iucrease la cost than lu any other ar sinco the tree delivery service was intute-J. It is to be raruombered aiso that n!cr existing laws provision is inado 1 or .i steady increase iu the.salaries of carriers, J lich in t^o lust liscal year nverage(i~^y 75 13. . a uniniiiiicnnta of the Entabllvlieil ClinrchOulyn littlo more than half ofthecQmiaicantH ot tiro Protestant churches of > eat iJrltain are members of the E?tablied Church. The reports of the Estabhod Church give the number of members. 1,920,110, white the rolls of the Federa- < >n of (Nonconformist) Churches ow 1,897,175. Tho Sundav-scUools of th& ' "ri h.i?1 i,nv*i> 410.209 fhiMrnn D; ilio tbose of the Federation have 3,234,* itallgioti In tii? :i)ondl7:e. A Baptist ciiureli Las L-eeu organized at 'jjh .iiKuay, Alaska. . . . 1?^