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The king 1 ^choni AM I TCI A NUVfcL Uf AJYlCKlv^m* E.v MAURICE CoMTTisM, 18?2 and 1833 CHAPTER III. CONTINUED. It was soon disclosed, as be proceeded with his statement, that what he meant by clever work was a most atrocious method of procedure, invoiviug the last degree of cruelty short of murder, provided that such jruelty should b^jome necessary in order to insure success in the enterprise. The cavaliers put on black cloth masks as soon as they reached the bluff overlooking the bay. It was not usual for them to wear a disguise; bat this was an extraordinary exploit; it called for every precaution. Indeed, a piece of treachery scarcely ever before heard of, even among robbers, was in this act now to be done by the King of Honey Island. No one of the riders knew of this peculiar phase of the matter, however, Bave the king himself. There was no hesitation, therefore, and not a twinge of what a desperado might call conscience. The plan was carried out with promptness, precision and success. Before Vasseur was fairly awake, he was bound hand and foot, and lay on the floor absolutely helpless, gazing wildly at his assailants. Fairfax, too, wus surprised in his bed. He made vigorous resistance; but it was of no use. Four men, each as strong or stronger than ne, cast themselves upon hira and quickly overpowered him, binding his arms and legs with brutal disregard for the torture iuflicted, aud thrusting a gag between his teeth. "I know you! I know you!" screamed Vasseur, before his mouth was stopped. "I know you, Pierre Iiameaii. You might just as well take oil' that mask; it does not disguise you in the least. Ab, you treacherous, soulless, perjured villain!" The gag went in before he could say more; but he lay on his back and cursed with his eyes. Three of the cavaliers were now sent out to keep watch. Some of the servants had been aroused, but they were easily quieted; a word and the eight of a guu or a saber in the band of a tall masked man sent thein shivering aud speechless into their cabins. The work which the riders had come to do was accomplished in a very short space of time. Yasseur's money and his treasure of precious stones were soon found and taken; but when the chief had examined the latter he turned to Vasseur and said: "The cross is not here. Where is it?" The man, being gagged, of course there was no answer; but the curses were still flashing out of his eyes, whilo his small, compact frame shook with a passion that no cords could bind. After gazing through hi3 mask for a moment at the grimacing countenance of his victim, the chief of the riders stooped and began to search tho fellow's clothes. Vasseur strained desperately trying to break the cords that bound him, his fury fairly blazing from his dark face. Very deliberately the robber continued his quest till with a little start of satisfaction he laid hands on the worn leather case containing the amethyst cross. At this moment Va33cur spit out the gas with a great breath which aeut it across the room. "Pierre Raineau, you dastard 1" ho screamed in French. "You faithless and honorless hound! I'll kill you for this?I'll track yon?dog you? follow you forever, or kill you!" The robber deliberately set hiB foot npon the helpless man's mouth and thus stopped his speech. "Fetch here that gag," he oaid to one of his followers; but when he removed his foot and before the gag could be used, Vasseur managed to eh rick '. "I will inform on you?I will lead government troops ugainst you?I'll have vengeance?I'll " "Go out and mount; I'll come immediately," said the chief to his mtn. "Be ready to rido instantly." He drew a pistol and leveled it at Vasseur, but checked himself almost Ill LLl C il^L Ul JIL IUJJ. The four cavaliers were mounted, one of theiu holuiug the chief's horse; , they waited impatiently in the rather chili morning breeze, and saw that a fnini touch of dnwu was whitening the eliy-linc of the day. V/hcn at last the chief came forth, ho walked rapidly, and, mounting as if in H mighty hurry, spoke the one word: "'Come!'' as J galloped away. None Oi the cavaliers iooked behind; lint if one had, he might have cen a flicker of tire through the small window-holes of Vasseur's house, and a little later, the place was all aflame. Doubtless, the chief, who was aware that both Vasseur and Fairfax had, by the accidental slipping aside of his mask, Heen his face, was desirous of thus putting an end to them and to the possibility of any trouble from them thereafter. Certainly, there was no other reasonable explanation of liirf sudden e.hango from the express purpose to leave Yasseur un4 4- ~ I 1 ~ ..A- -i. *?- - i uuuuni. n.t an cvcuis, no ucu- cu vuai, desperate mail's life was move representative of his absolute heartlessness or of hi3 promptness in doing whatever ssemed to him safest, without regard in the least to anything save his own personal success. He roue away from tbo burning house, leaving his two human victims to roast tuore, and the act did not evea change a liuc) in tbe expression of his dark, calm face. One thing was photographed in the memory of Fairfax: The singular cold gleam of tbe robber's eyes, as they appeared to narrow and lengthen with a cat-like stare. He might forget the other feature* of that face, even the slender whitish scar slanting across the left cheek; but the . T?..T-r? T ? >>>*-T T-.. V- -? , j O Fj-. 5Y ISLAND E DURING THE WAR OF 1812. Wf I nuiwir by Robert Bonner'* Son*. shape and expression of the eyes could not be lost. He lay there thinking: "If I ever see you again, I'll know you." But the gag held back every effort to Bpeak. CHAPTER IV. ECHOES FROM LAWLESS PATS. For a while it looked as if Yasseur and Fairfax would be roasted alive in the burning house, as the leader of the cavaliers had intended when he applied the fire; but the servants '' * * ii - -A e rained irom meir stupor ui ingun m time to come to the rescue. The two men, still bound and gagged, were dragged forth without any ceremony and left lying at some distance from the building, while the excited servants made heroic efforts to save first the house itself then the furniture. Their work was quite in vain, however, for the dry, resinous pine logs and boards yielded to the fiames as if with delight, flinging out such heat that nothing less invulnerable than a salamander could have gone within the doors. Fairfax lay on his back under a figtree and watched helplessly and with what resignation he could command the rapid and weird changes of the scene. The negroes had deemed it best to leave the men tied, seeing at a glance that to unbind thein would require great effort and much loss of valuable time, which had better be spent in efforts to save property. Meanwhile, the five cavaliers were speeding on their way to Honey Island. Their ride back along the Blackwolf Trail was far brisker than was their pace when we saw them going down to the bay; indeed, by the time that full daylight was abroad in the woodsi, they were far up by the banks of Pearl River, galloping along single file, with a cane-brake on one hand and a wild jnngleof live-oaks and tangled vines on the other. The chief had led them bv a new route from Vasseur's to the trail, a crossway that ran past the bumble borne of Lapin, tbe overseer of Mr. Vernon's plantation. Day was beginning to sboot up its first faint sbimmer as they rode near tbe little place, startling a pack of dogs from their slumbers under a low shed and drawing from them a broadside of discordant baying. Some domestic fowls, roosting on a rude grape trellis, cackled luetily. Two savage-looking bloodhounds cleared the low yard fence at a bound ami came tearing along after the horsemen, as if to drag them from their sadcjles. "Don't shoot!" commanded the chief, as one of the cavaliers lifted his gun. "They'll quit when they discover our scent. Hold your fire." Sure enough it was so; the dogs turned about almost instantly, when they discovered that it was men in the saddles, and trotted leisurely back the way they had come. While this was going on, a singular incident added significance to what j would have otherwise been scarcely worth our noting. At the sound of the chief's voice, ; some one in the house leaped out of I bed and ran to the little souare win I dow-holo that overlooked the path aloug which the cavaliers were cantering. A moment lat'er, just as the chief was on the point of disappearing among the trees, a head covered with long, scattering, disheveled locks of white hair was thrust out, the face showing haggard and shrunken with intense excitement, and tho sunken blue eyas followed in strange wise the horseman's movements. The chief glanced back just at that point, but he did not see the face in the window-hole; if he had seen it and recognized it, the effect upon him would have been greater than a row of leveled guns could have produced. Little note made the grim riders of this incident; they did not note it at all, in fact, but galloped on in reckless mood, knowing that there was no force to pursue them, and that every bound their horses made bore them that much nearer to the land of their comrades, the almost impenetrable wilderness of Honey Island, where their chief was king, and where the division of spoils was the only evidence of law. ? ( : One.came upon their track, however?a tall old ?*an on foot and unarmed. He strode out from Lapin's cabin and followed the trail, stepping slowly and firmly, yet showing as if from within the window of his countenance a consuming eagerness and a great hope. It was thus that Alexander Max Burns once more got a glimpse of the man who had stolen his child. That man's voice had startled him from his morning's sleep under Lapin's roof, and the hurried look through the window had photographed on his brain a picture of terrible significance to him. For the merest point of time his eyes iiaa rested upon lurk MacUollougn. He muttered that name as he trudged deeper and deeper into the gloomy forest following the trail of the cavaliers . What it it that makes oar consciousness of an enerry's personal beauty something appealing aud, in a way, distressing? An old duelist has been heard to say that ha would rather stand before au ordinary-looking dead shot than before a handsome bungler. The glamour of a fine,-magnetic presence is strangely confusing; aud the rft'ocu seems more powerful when the | face is an evil one, especially when j tli'j evil is not on the outside and shows only elusively and by subtle indirection from within. Max Burns felt the'fascination that flashed from the robber-chief's face, aud for a time it i almost unnerved him; the beauty it : wore, like some shiuing mask, did not suggest at all times the dark spirit of the desperate aud lawlj^||an. Long, 1 curling yellow hair^^^^B|ine full < beard of the sanm^^^^^vtraiirht i nose; a good forehead; long, narrow, j clear-gray eyes and a mouth indescrib* ' ably haughty and stern in its expression, were supplemented by a frame of unusual stature and symmetry. This was Pierre Rameau, formerly Kirk MacCollough, now tho King of Honey Island, as old Max Burns saw him in the gray morning light, an apparition of unspeakable meaning to him, gleam like a pnantom of evil for a second and then fade, as it were, into the gloom of the moss-hung woods. Certainly it was not the Kirk Macfj-. 1 Innerh of twfilve vears aero?not the slender, fair-faced youth who had stolen the girl?though the reckle63 half-smile still lingered and the old stamp of utter unrestraint was as plain as ever. No, not the boyish Kirk MacCollough, but the man, full-grown to his prime, masterful, commanding, a leader of men, and yet there was no mistaking his identity. Max Burns was old, and for fifty years had been a preacher whose sermons had overflowed with sentimental tenderness; bnt he had a side to his natare which was as hard as Scotch granite. It was with this hard side out that he was pursuing Kirk MacCollough; and yet, even through this, the spell of the man's strong and beautiful face found its way to his heart. The effect of it was but. temporary, eo far as checking his determination was concerned; but it never quite left him during the rest of the day as he slowly but steadily followed the trail into the main road and toward the upper Pearl River region. Literally, the preacher had no scrip for his journey, no staff, no means of i- - J i-j xi- _ -i J living; iiu uepeuucu, us me uiu-nuio minister of the backwoods was wont to do, upon the hand of Providence. Here and there a trapper's or a hunter's hut, here and yonder a settler's cabin offered him rest, food, shelter. He did not tell his story; but he prayed at the fireside of all, And he managed to leave behind him, where ever he went,a memorable something? sweet, strange and altogether welcome to the simple pioneer hearts. Sometimes he fell^fltmong desperate men, robbers themselves, or aiders nnd abettors of them, and even with these he was at home; for he bore with him the charm of childlike faith, combined with the touohing appeal of unprotected old age. " ' ' What helped him moBt of all, 'perhaps, was his singing; for age had scarcely touched the deep, rioh musip of his voice, and his memory was stored with hymn tunes and tunes that enthralled the hearts of his entertainers. The strolling preachers of all denominations traversed our frontier regions in those days, and Max Burns was accepted as a member of the class without a question, without suspicion, and made freely welcome by every' household as a privileged if not in every instance a venerated person. Curious enough does it appear when recorded, but it is, nevertheless, a historical fact, that the preacher found a home for some time with one Dick Becket. well known as a fighting fiddler, who was a red-headed man, very bow-legged, much freckled and badly scarred by an old knife-cut across the nose, and whose cabin was about three miles east of Pearl River, opposite the southern end of Honey Island. This Dick Becket was a trapper and, to some extent a trader with the Indians. . His cabin waB often tho stopping-place of the freebooters,with whom he kept on good terms without having anything to do with their enterprises. He charged liberal prices for their board and lodging, and so his place became known far and near as Dick's. He lived to a great age, dying in 1867 on the banks of Pearl River, not far from where his first cabin stood. It was from him, at first hands, that mauy of the Honey Island legends came into circulation in their present form. He fiddled as long as he lived, and was a noted story-teller. He took Burns in and became greatly attached to him, ever afterward calling him Daddy or Parson Burns. Thus established within a compara tively short distance from Pierre Rameau's base of operations, the old man felt that at last he was on the point of reaching the end of hiB long wanderings. There conld be no doubl now that Pierre Rameau and MacCollough were one and the Bame man, noi did it look possible for the outlaw tc prevent his approach, provided tha' he could avoid recognition. (to be continued.) May Lower Lake Level*. With the waters of Lake Michigar actually flowing by the prehistoric route dowc the Chicago River and in to tlxe Mississippi Valley the engineers of the country will await with interest the results of th9 Chicago draiuago cunal experiment. It ha; been prophesied that this reversal oj the modesty of nature may have wider consequences than are expected. Some authorities have declared thatit would result in reducing appreciably th? level of the lakes and in making diS cult of access tha 1 arbors of several lake cities. There is non9 too much water about their wharfs now, and a drop of a foot or so would involve a most extensive programme of dredging. From the smaller ports of the great inland sea protests and warnings have been heard at intervals against the colossal sewerage enterprises by which the Great Lakes discharge themselves, not only down the St. Lawrence into the Atlantic, but down the Mississippi into the Gulf. A .Scotch Pcsfman. David Ramsay, r. postman con* nected with the Kirriemuir (Thrums), Scotland, postcf3ce, has been on duty | thirty-seven years, during twenty- i five of which he covered a distnnc3 I daily of twenty-four miles, and twelve j miles a day for the other twelve years, which makes a grand total of over 232,000 miles, During tha thirtyseven years he never was known to be off a single day with sickness, cud never received holidays. He is now bordering on fourscore years, and resigned his appointment the other day on account of failiug health. His youngest daughter has been appointed iu his place. The despised codfish-ball is quite transformed if it is mouldod in cro- ! ^uette shape and offered with tartar sauce. - {ST I THE REALM New York City.?Gray and white fouled is attractively- combined with white Liberty satin and a girdle of violet panne, in the accompanying cut, reproduced from Modes. The waist is mounted on a glove Gabden pabty costume. fitted lining which eldfces in the cen ter front the seams and darts being featherboned. The front yoke Is Included on the right shoulder seam and fastens invisibly on the left side. The deep gir'dle closes at the left side and comj bines the full front which is arranged in a moderate blouse. The correct two-piece sleeves have Just enough fulness at the 6houlders to give a stylishly'rounded effect, and are shaped in a bell flare over the hand. 1 The smart Empire $jicket is arranged in single box pleats'flack and front, and applied to outline the lower edge of the yoke. It reaches just below thp eirdle. and elves a stylish fulness ove* the bust. The pleats are pressed flatly and stitched about one-third of the distance from the yoke. The skirt is made with a narrow girl's dress with scalloped yoke. front goro and wide circular sides. It closes in the center, back, having a single box pleat on either side. The lower edge is trimmed with three narrow ruffles which give a stylish flare at the floor. To make the waist In the medium size will require tliree and one-half yards of twenty-two-inch material for jacket, three-quarters yard of velvet ror girdle, and one-half yard of twenty-two-inch material for yoke and collar. To make the skirt in the medium size will require five yards of fiftyinch material. Two Attractive Toilets. Light green figured percale was chosen for the attractive frock, with trimmings of plain green pique, which is shown to the left of the large illustration, from Modes. The waist is mounted on a fitted lining which closes in the center back. The full front and backs are applied on the lining body, at a yoke depth. rue i unless wiug gauiereu at uiv lower edge and drawn down close in the back, forming a slight blouse in front over the narrow pique belt. The neck is completed by a comparatively high straight collar. Over the shoulders is a pretty drop yoke of pique, which is adjusted with shoulder seams and closes in the center back. The lower edge is shaped in scalloped outline, extending over the sleeves to form a cap. The little four-piece skirt is shaped with narrow front gore and wide sides, which extend almost to the center back, where they meet the double box pleat. A hand of pique is applied around the skirt in scalloped outline to match the yoke. It is finished with a narrow cotton bra To make the dress for a girl eight years will require three and one-quarter vards of thirtv-slv-iiwli mntorifil. The attractive toilette, on the right of the large drawing, is fashioned in pale blue and white crepe meteor el:'Vorate!j* trimmed with white crepe de chin'1. The bodice is mounted on a glovefitted lining, which closes In the center back. It is faced to a round yoke depth with white thread lace and the crepe applied at the lower edge of the yoke. A soft Marie Antoinette fichu of crepe de cbtot is draped to outline the yoke and fastens in front under a rosette. It is edged with a rutHe of the same fabric which extends out over the close fitting two-piece elbow sleeve. The skirt is shaped with lour pieces. -yv'" . of fashion. 1 a froJit gore which is comparatively narrow, and wjde si<lo gores which lit smooth over the hips, almost to the center back, where they meet the wateau. To make the waist for a miss fourteen years will require one yard of figured material thirty-six inches wide, with five-eighths yards, embroidery twenty inches wide< for yoke and collar, and one anu uiie-quanui yards of white null thirty-six niches wide for fichu, bertha, ruffles for sleeves, rosettes and girdle. To make the skirt for a miss of fourteen years ; will require two and one-quarter yards j of forty-four-inch material. * * j; > A Rich Arrangement. Fairly suggestive of an immense orchid was a faintly rosy organdie, which boasted softly done blossoms in deeper rose and mauve shadings. TifljlM in clusters of se^en broke the monotony of the pattern. On the botlice there were full-length, ereaipy renaissance lace appliques between the clusters of tucks, to the depth of a ^oke, and on the sleeves to the depth j 'of a sleeve cap, This gave an effective top finish, and the design was also carried out on tie skirt; at the foot of the plain portions. between the clusters of tucks which at this point were loose, were single appliques. DUllOUs Ui vut uinpm Let those learned In such matters make affidavit whether th# new buttons of cut glas are ?a4e-of "strawberry." "hobnail" or colonial patterns. It matters very little, as the cutting is so effective. Cut crystal patterns are particularly pretty in summer. Small buttons of cut glass are used. The large ones are too much like butter plates iu oets of cut crystal tableware. Useful Toilet Accessory. A little book tillled with leaves of tissue paper covered with face powder Is one of the useful toilet accessories Imported for summer use. The powder remains fast until the paper is applied to the skin, and the fragrance and tcnic effects are highly recommended. TTA1ST WITH FICHU?FOUIl-TIECE qtuH Pretty Gown For Urldcsmnid. Handsomely embroidered ecru batiste made up over pink silk constitutes one of the prettiest bridesmaid's frowns seen this season. Irsettings of lace may be added for greater elegance. A Fancy \Vnlst. China blue and white foulard is here combined wmi cream i^iueriy satin .and a bertha of heavy white lace over satin. The waist is mounted on a glovefitted lining, which closes in the center front, the seams and darts being featherboned. The satin is gathered at the neck gether with a jeweled clasp, the fulness being adjusted in a slight blouse. The bertha outlines the yoke back and front, extending out over the sleeves in a becoming manner. The bertha and fronts are finished with a narrow pleating of satin. The correct two-piece sleeves have slight fulness at the shoulders, and da re in bell shape over the hand. 1 To make the waist in the medium in front and extends in plastron effect to the belt, closing invisibly in the center. The loose fronts arc held to- 1 l ladies' fancy waist. 1 size will require one Jind one-half 1 yards of forty-fonr-ineh material, with v one yard of inou&seline for full yoke r nnd one-hulf yard of twenty-inch ma- v X. 8 ------- j DE. TALMAGE'S SEEMON. SUNDAY'S DISCOURSE BYTHE NOTED DIVINE." BuTj.Ject: Practical Clinrity?'The Eenevo lence of IJorciiH Kxlolled ? Her Work Contracted With Prcaont Day Method? ?Woman God'* Handmaiden. [Copyright liiuo.l WASHINGTON, D. C.-Dr. Talmagc, who is still traveling in Northern Europe, has forwarded the following report of a sermon in which he utters helpful words to all who are engaged in alleviating human distresses and shows how such work will be crowned at the last; text, Acts ix, 30, "And all the widows stood by him weeping and showing him the coats and garments ^bich Dorcas made while bhe was with them." "Joppa is a most absorbing city of the Orient. Into her harbor once floated the rafts of Lebanon cedar from which the teiqnjM of Jerusalem were builded, Solomon-oxen drawing the logs through the town. Here Napoleon had 500 prisoners ipasgiafad.* One of the most magnificent charities of the centuries was started in this seaport by Dorcas, a woman with her needle embroidering her name ineffaccably into $he*beiseficence of the world. I see her sitthig 4n yonder home. In the door\&y and pound about the building and in *Alim alio oi + a ar?n nnlo for>eia of poor" She listens to their pliant, she pities their woe, she makes garments for them, she adjusts the manufactured articles to suit the bent form of this invalid wonsm and to the cripple that comes crawling on his hands and knees. She gives a Coat to this 6ne; she gives sandals to that one. With the gifts fche mingles prayers and tears and Christian encouragement. Then she goes out to be greeted on the street corners by v.hose whom she has blessed, and all through the street the cry is heard, "Dorcas is coming!" The sick look up gratefully in her face as she puts her hand on the turning brow, and the lost and the 4band$jKd start up with hope as though But there is a'raHnHMft m that woman's ministry. tareSFWhere is Dorca^ man>news comes, ''DoitellwSr^SPp btdletm flashing from theafautot jgatBMKog the waited for than the nrw* fromjfcif&ene^ factress. Alas, for Joppa thflggjfcw&ftng, wailing! That voire which h*l^C(ie?ed so many cheerful words is husHea^p^fc band which has made so many gtmbPmfor the poor is cold and still; the dt^ip^ich had poured light into the midnidilK?fv wretchedness is dimmed by the blUuUBg mists that go up from ths river ef qfytb. In every forsaken place in tb?t;iowiJ^ "wherever there is a sick child $cpd no balm, wherever there is hu tQg-?d^o'<w5mSS&' tion, wherever theakfc a brflkeg hehrt and no^comfo^, thenP^re^ menc. you^ the sepulcher, and in the stren^h/jgjjiSffl who is the resurrection he erfea^i^JabMl^f arise!" There is a stir in theVtta^Kgfi of life, the heart flutters, the ?enB^raj5St; J the chec'#fiu.she9, the eye ogsaa|^Kft?Ste\j; We see In^,this h^ubj' was a Christian. Such narate^t^Bl^Krver came from a heart whieSji not ckorded and strunii by divine gtisjlP"BefarfeX-show you the needlework of th|P'WAKMWwant to show yon her lege^era^jfludu^' the source of a pure life and WwMpSKtnstian charities. I wish that the mothers and daughters and 8U??rt,-6? nil the earth would imitate Dorta|p(yfer discipleship. Before you cross^Rnf threshold of ; the hospital, before you* enter-upon the temptations and trials of. to-morrow, I charge you ir the name of God and by the turmoil and tumult 01 tue judgment nay, > 0 woman, that you attend to the first, last and greatest duty of your life?the seeking 1 for God and being at peace with Him! When the trumpet shall sound there will 1 be an uproar and a wreck of mountain ( and continent, and no human arm can help 1 you. Amid the rising of the dead and amid the boiling of yonder sea and amid 1 the live, leaping thunders of the flying j heavens calm and placid will be every J woman's heart who liath put her trust in Christ?calm notwithstanding all the tumult, as though the fire in the heavens ' were only the gildings of an autumnal sun- ' set, as though the awful voices of the sky ' were but a group of friends bursting 1 through a gateway at even time with 1 laughter and shouting, "Dorcas the disci- j pic!" Would God that every Mary and every Martha would this day sit down at the feet of Jesus! Further, we see Dorcas, the benefactress. History has told the story of the crown; epic poet has sung of the sword; the pas- 1 toral poet, with his verses full of the redo lenee of clover tops and a-rustle with the 1 silk of the corn, hes sung th? praises of 1 the plow. I tell you tno praises of the 1 needle. From the tig teat roho prepared * in the garden of Eden to the last stitch taken on the garment for the poor the needle has wrought wonders of kindness, generosity and benefaction. It adorned the girdle of the high priest, it fashioned the curtains in the ancient ^tabernacle, it cushioned the chariots of King Solomon, it provided the robes of Queen Elizabeth, ind in high places and in low places, by the fire of the pioneer's back log and unier the flash of the chanrleiier?everywhere?it lias clothed nakedness, it has preached the gospel, it has overcome hosts sf penury and want with thi war cry of 'Stitch, stitch, stitch!" The operatives fiavc found a livelihood by it, and through it the mansions of the employer are constructed. Amid the greatest triumphs in all ares ind lanus I set down the conquest-* of the needle. I admit its crimes; I admit its cruelties. It has had more martyra than :he fire; it has punctured the eye; it. has jierccd the side; it has struck wjnRiess nto the lungs; it has sent madness into -he brain; it has filled the potter's field; t lias pitched whole armies ot the suiter- 1 ng into crime and wretchedness and woe. " Hut now that I am talking of Dorcas and 1 ler ministries to the poor I shall speal. 1 >nly of t!io charities of the needle. This t voman was a representative of all those c vho make garments for the destitute, who cnit socks for the lui re fro ted, who prepare jandages for the lacera ^d, who fix up toxes of clothing for missionaries, who go nlo the asylums of the suffering and desti- lite bearing that gospel which i:? sight for I he blind and hearing for the deaf, and * vliicli makes the lame man leap like a hart t tnil brings the dead to life, immortal c lealth bounding in their pulses. ? What a eontra-t between the Tactical i lenevolence of this woman an.V a great leal of the eharilv of this day! This roman did not spend lies- time idly ?!an* ??n.c how the poor of the city of* Jopna vere to be relieved. She took h:'r needle nd relieve~(TtKem. .She was not like those lersons who sympathize with imaginary orrows and go out iu the street and lausb > \ -- - - - - - *V at Uie boy who has upset his basket of cold victuals, or like that charity which makes a rousing speech on the benevolent aK platform and goes out to kick the beggar H from the step, crying, "Ilush your miser- Ifl able howling!" Sufferers of the world want not so much theory are practice; not so much (ears as dollars; not so much kind wishes as loaves of bread; not so muctf HJ smiles as shoes; not so much "God blcea you," as jackets and frocks. I will put one earnest Christian man, hard-working, against.,5000 mere theorists on the subject of chanty. There arc a great many who ^Hj liave ?ne ideas about church architecture*^? who.nevfer in their lives helped to build at HH church. There arc men who can give yotf^H the history of Buddhism and Mohamme* danism who never sent a farthing for^B evangelization. There arc women who talk^Bj beautifully about the suffering of the world who never had the courage, like Dorcas^^H to tak* the needle and assault it. T nm flrlod that therp ic Tint .1 nn<rft of thl^^H world's history which is not a record of^Hj fetr-'le benevolence. God says to all landdflH ar people, "Come, now, and hear the^H Widows mite rattle down into the pooc^H b >x." The Princess of Conti sold all her^H jewels that she might help the famine-^M Rtricken. Queen Blanche, the wife o?^H Laifis VIII. of France, hearing that thcre^M <vere some persons unjustly incarccratei^O in,the prisons, went out amid the rabbM^H and took a stick and struck the door as aflH signal that they might all strike it, and^H down went the prison door, and out came^B th"e prisoners. Oueen Maud, the wife offlH Henry. I., went down amid the poor and;^H washed their sores and administfred to tliem cordials. Mrs. Retson. at Matagor-^M da, appeared on the battlefield while thtf^H missiles of death were flying around and^H cared for the wounded. Is there a maix^^H or woman who has ever heard of thc civil^B| war in America who has not heard of theflH women of the sanitary and Christian com-^H missions or the fact that before the smoke had gone up from Gettysburg and SoutU^H Mountain the women of the north net the^H women of the south on the battlefield, for-.^H getting aUtheir animosities, while they,^H bound upr^fc wounded and closed the eye? of the slaiins* Dorcas the hcnofactrc??. ^Hj I come nov to speak of Dorcas the la*|^M monfoH \VT?<a? rlonfh afrnpir rlnwn th.a?r^H good woman, ph,' how much sorrow there' was in the town oj; Joppa! I suppose therewere women|&Jjere with larger fortunes, women perhajjwr with handsomer faces, hut there' was not grief at their departure liko this at the death of Dorcas. There were not more turmoil and upturning in the ' Mediterranean Sea dashing against the wharves at that seaport than there were ; surgings to and fro of grief because Dorcas was dead. There arc a great many who go out of life and arc unmissed. There, may he a very large funeral, there may bea great many carriages and a plumed hearse, there may be high sounding eulo-r giums, the bell may toll at the ceirtetery gate, there may be a very fine marble shaft reared over the restiffg pl?.eo, hut the whole thing may Ijc a falsehood and a sham. ' The church of God has lost nothing; the world has lost nothing. It is only a nuisance abated. It is only a grumbler ceasing to find fault. It is only an irHpr' stopped yawning. It is only a dissipate""? fashionable parted from his wine cellar^ while on the other hand no useful Christian leaves this world without' being1 missed. The church of God crics out, like the prophet, "Howl, fir tree, for the cedar has fallen!" Widowhood 'comes and showsthe 'garments which the dmarted had made. Orphans arc lifted npifto look into the calm face of the sleeping fcenefactrefis. Reclaimed vagrancy eomes and kisses the cold brow of her who charmed it away .from sin, and all through the streets of ; Joppa there is mourninj?ffittbrning because Dorcas is dead* -J* &:*When Joseuhine of TYi(iiITM|i i carried ftnt to her grave, there wereMteat many H men ami. women^ ofponig^iq^pr-id and j Sm most affected by the story oOwtfliy "? that on that day there were 10.000 of the fl poor of Fnraete who followed bet' coffin, H JfWiine and wailing: until the air rang H KranL because when th?jy lost 'Josephine ycyipBjTtneir last earthly Wend. S tjOh, #ho wonld not rather have s;ich Ob guieS' tban all the tears that were ever H| pjffired in, the lachrymals that have been Grouped from ancient cities. SB H&ere may be no mass for the dead, ^Bernay be no costly sarcophagus. there may be no elaborate mausoleum, but in IH HSMnn cellars of the city and through Hpnely lints of the mountain pen there'-^^H HBb^momning. mourning, bccause Dor S^Blessed are the dead v.-ho die in the fl Sjffid. They rest from their labors, and H JRtr works do follow them." D f speak to you of Dorcas the resur T^eted. The apostle came to where she 9 was and said, "Arise, and she sat un!'' In '-H what a short compare tho creat writer put that?"She sat un!" Oh. what a time 'fl there was around that town when the M apostle brought her out among her old friends. . H How the tears of joy must have started! S What clapping of hands there must have H heen! What singing! What laughter! H Sound it all through that lane! Shout it S down that dark alley! Let all Joppa hear fl it! Dorcas is rcsurrectcd! S Has that Christian woman who went ? away fifteen years ago nothing to do witn BM these things? I see the flowering out of her noble heart. I hear the echo of her footsteps in all the songs over sins forziver.. in all the prosperity of the church. l'he good that seemed to be buried has -^E ;oirte up again. Dorcas is resurrected! After awhile all these womanly friend# of Christ will put down their needle forever. After making garments for others. H| some one will make a garment for them; the last robe we ever wear?the robe for the grave. You will have heard the last cry of pain. You will have witnessed the last orphanage. You will have come ia worn out from your last round of mercy. JEM I do not know where you will sleep nor ivhat your epitaph will be. but there will be a iamn burning at that tomb and an BH fingel of (iod guarding it, and through all I ho long night no rude foot will disturb Lhe dust. Sleep on, sleep on! Soft bed,. flB nleasant shadows, undisturbed repose! Sleep on! Asleep in Jesus! Blessed s'cep j ^Hj From which none ever wake to weep! ' Then one day there will be a sky rending and a whirl of wheels and the Hash of ^Hj x pageant, armies marching, chains clanking. banners waving, thunders booming,-j^H II id that Christian woman will arise from the tlut-t, and she will be suddenly sur-1 IB ounded?surrounded by the wanderers of ;he street whom *he reclaimed, surround- / ;d by the wounded souls to whom she had ulministered! Hn Daughter of Ciod, so strangely surround- mm ;d, what means this? It means that revartl has come; tliat the victory is v/on; hat the crown is ready; that the banquet s spread. Shout it through all the crumbing earth! Sing it through all the flying leavens! Dorcas is resurrected! * 3H In lSuj, when some of the soldiers came jack from the Crimean war to London, . :hc Queen of England distributed among hern beautiful medals, called Crimean ncdah'. (!al!cries were ercctcd lor the two louses of Parliament and the royal family :*> sit in. There was a great audience to vitntss the distribution of the medals. A JM oloncl who had lost both feet in the bat* Dfl le of Inkt rmann was pulled in on a wheel hair; others came in limping on their ^H| rutchcs. Then the Queen of England arose jefore them in the name of her Govern- HH ncnt and uttered words of commendation o the officers and men and distributed hose medals, inscribed with the four great HH utt'eiields?Alma. Balaklava. Inkermann ;M| mil Sevastopol. As the Queen pave these/?? o the wounded men and the wounded offi ers the bands of music struck up the naional air,, and the people, with streaming yes, joined in the song: Clod gave our gracious queen' Long live our noble queen! God save tlie queen! \nd (lion tliey sliontcJ "Huzza! iruz.'-a!'* >!?. it was a proud day for those returned varriors! ]>ut a brighter, better i.id ;J?d!er day will come when Christ siial! gath-^^H r those who have toiled in His service? ond soldiers of .loses Christ. He shall rise^^H icfore them, and in the presence of ail the^^H :lo;-ilied of heaven lie will say. "Well^^H lo",>. good and faithful servant!"' And^^HQ hen lie will distribute the medals of ctcr^^^B ial victory, not inscribed with works of^^HR u!iteo;:?;u..x which we have done. but^^^N .'itli those tour great battlefields, dear arth and dear to heaven? licthlebein^J^H Cazarctb, Getbacmaue and Calvary!. ?