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THEMY5TE , .Aumor of*w The Mouse l Copyright, 1995. by 3 CHAPTER XX. Continued. "That'll do, sir," said the sergeant, lis, with a shrewd look, he saluted and Went back to the cab. Clifford walked on, therefore, at no rery rapid pace. Indeed, as the cab passed him, with the sergeant on the box beside the driver, he saw Nell's face at the window, with a little surprise and reproach in her eyes at the Blow progress he was making in car" *' % rying out *her behest. She, poor girl, sat upright and listened to the sound of the horse's hoofs and to the wheels upon the road like a person incapable of steady thought ?' ^ ' .. She had known that this blow was coming. out iiuu puaotru uuui ullcl hour of many a weary night in trying to devise means of escape from it ;\V'' But every plan had ended in failure - even before she could put it in practice; for day after day she had found ; . ' that she was watched by the police, and It had become clear to her that wherever she went she would be ihadowed, and that at the time they chose she would find herself in the ' / grip" of the police. .It was to the house of one of the local justices of the peace that she was being taken. The cab soon toon a turning to the right, and presently vf ..^arrived at the lodge gates of Home Park. : ;' Home Court was a large building, brand-new and many-gabled, built of brilliant red brick. It had so many little turrets and towers and steeples ISf'&r ? springing out from the main edifice in all directions, that it looked like a puzzle, and set the onlooker wonder: ' ing whether one could get from one * portion of the building to the other \ without the aid of a pjan. In was in the study ? an oddly shaped apartment, with an Imposing gallery filled with books?that Nell was brought before the local magistrate Sir Neville Bax -was a bland and imperious gentleman, with a loud voice and a dominant manner, who, having married the ugliest woman in the county, sought to palliate this misdeed by posing as a great admirer of the rest of the sex. He stared at Nell with an approving eye. "Well, Miss Claris, and so I hear you have a statement to make to me?" he began in a benevolent tone which made Nell wince. x Nell did not immediately answer. "Well, don't be afraid. Only speak out and speak the truth. It's the best way?in fact It's the only way?when, as I understand, the police know so much already." Nell shivered. | "I understand;1' continued he, "that you have son# important Information concerning tf^ jobbery at your uncle's , inn, the Blue Lion?" "It's only a very little thing that I know," pleaded Nell. "Ah, but little things sometimes lead to great results," retorted Sir Neville, buoyantly. "You know that there was Bleeping on the premises at the Blue Lion, on the occasion of the first robbery committed there, a person whose presence there was known to you only?" "Yes," faltered Nell, and burst into tears. CHAPTER XXI. In the meantime* Clifford was proceeding slowly on his way to. Shingle End. It was dark by this time, and the-way seemed even longer than it had done when he was on his way to Courtstairs that afternoon. There was a faint light over the gray sea, but on the right, over the marsh, and away as far as the ridge of hill on which old Fleet Castle stood there . was inky , blackness. It waB a lonely road at night, this long, dreary strfetch of straight, hedgeless highway, with only 9 I an occasional bit of ragged bush or a still more infrequent wayside cottage * to break up its wearisome monotony. Even the cry of the sea-birds was startling as it came to Clifford's ears on the clear air. An ugly fancy took possessjou ui uiuu, iuu, as uc uic? ucai to Shingle End at last that the cries he heard were not all those of the seabirds; that it was a human cry, shrill and weird, "which came to him over the flat meadow land oy the sea. He stopped. He heard the sound again. And, forgetting his promise not to hurry, he went on toward Colonel Bostal's house as fast as his tired feet could carry him. He was ?ure now that the cries had not been those of the birds; sure, too, that they had proceeded from the direction of the spot to which he was hastening. There was a ragged plantation of nntrlmmed trees and thorn bushes on i'' the right side of the road before he came to Shingle End. Just as he ap proached this, the darkest part of tde whole road, a man sprang out upon him from the shade of the overhanging trees, and seized him from behind, ii'Clifford shouted, struggled, trying in :, " vain to turn, so that he might see the man's face. But his assailant, -who did not utter a -word, frustrated all his efforts, and held him fast. Clifford's cries, however, soon brought * help and deliverance. From out of the darkness there appeared a figure which Clifford thought he knew, and a voice which he recognized called out in authoritative tones: "Now, then, stop that!" Clifford's assailant obeyed this rough command without a moment's hesitation, and when Clifford, feeling himself suddenly released, turned round, he only saw a glimpse of a man's t figure as It plunged into the darkness again. "Who was that?" asked the young man In astonishment, as he perceived that his rescuer made no attempt to follow him. It was Hemming, the London detective, who stood before him, and' he only shrugged his shoulders. "Only a man I've got to help me In :RT- op-Ttte bi E.JWifiR F /ardenT*1'* on Uk Aarsh*" ere. Robert Bonner's Sons. I this business," answered he, with a gesture in the direction of the Colonel's house. "He made a mistake, that was all." "What business do you mean?" asked Clifford, uneasily. "Well, sir, I think you ought to know by this time," replied Hemming, evasively. Clifford pondered for a few moments. Then he asked: "Have you been to the house?" "No, sir. I am waiting for further instructions first." Clifford looked at the little weatherbeaten dwelling, which had lights in two of the upper windows. He fancied he could detect a watching figure behind the narrow curtain of one of them. "I suppose it was your man," he said suddenly, "who has alarmed the poor lady so much by his knocks and thumps at the doors and windows?" Hemming's face could not be seen distinctly in the darkness, but Clifford had a fancy that he was smiling as he answered: . "Very likely, sir." Clifford, who was growing more puzzled, more curious, every minute, turned abruptly away and walked round to the back door of the house, by which had been admitted that morning. He knocked two or three times with his stick against the door before he heard a window above his head softly opened. Looking up he heard a whisper in Miss Theodora's voice: "Is that you, Mr. King?" "Yes." "You are alone?" "Why, yes, of course. 'I have just seen Nell." As he had expected, this answer brought the little lady down in the twinkling of an eye. He heard the bolts drawn, and a minute later he found himself dragged inside the door, while Miss Theodora, panting with her exertions, hurriedly fastened the door again. "I have seen your bogy," said Clifford, "the man who toremnts you at night. He attacked me just before I came to the corner." "Abi" cried Miss Bostal, with a shake of her head. "I have found out who he is now. He is the man who is at the bottom of ail these robberies and of the murder of poor Jem." "Indeed!" said Clifford, politely, but without deep excitement. For he rather looked down upon the little lady's intelligence, which he thought was by no means so strong as her kindness of heart. "Yps." she said, "he is the man who' got such a hold upon poor Nell that he got her to do whatever he pleased." The notion was so shocking that,improbable as it appeared, It made Clifford shudder. "But why," be asked impulsively, "should Hemming let bim come here and worry you?" "Hemming!" echoed Miss Bostal. Then she was silent They remained in the little stone passage for a few seconds, unable to see each other's face. Then she passed him, and running quickly to the dining-room door, throw it nn?n nnrt entered, beckoninc to Clifford to follow. "Papa," said she, breathlessly, and in a little flutter of excitement, patting her little hands softly and rapidly the one agaipst the other, "It Is the detective Hemming who is sending this wretch to annoy us. Mr. King says so." The Colonel, who, as it seemed to Clifford, had aged since the morning, got up slowly from his chair and stared at Clifford with haggard eyes. "Hemming!" said he in a broken voice. "The detective! Wha-a-t is he here for?" "You. don't understand, papa," piped Miss Theodora's bright, shrill voice. "I didn't say he was here. But Mr. King tells me it is he who sends the man to knock at doors and windows at night. Didn't you, Mr. King?" Clifford did not immediately answer. He saw that he was upon the threshold of a mystery, to which the staring eyes and trembling limns or tne unhappy old man before him seemed already to give him the clue. Without waiting for Clifford's answer to her question, Miss Theodora suddenly went on again: "You said you had just left Nell, Mr. King. Where was that?" He hesitated. He was overwhelmed with a feeling of pity for these two forlorn people, shut up and barricaded within their poor tumbledown house. So that, although lie certainly had a vague belief that the old Colonel was in some unknown way involved in the crimes'which had made so great a stir, yet he longed for his escape as much, or almost as much, as he longed for Nell's. So he answered in a troubled* voice: "I left her?in the hands of the police." There was the warning, if the Colonel needed it. The old man shook so much, as he heard the announcement, that Clifford began to fear the "stroke" which the police sergant had predicted. Miss Theodora turned pale and clasped her hands. "The police!" she exclaimed, as if scarcely able to grasp the dreadful fact. And she twirled round, as if moved by a spring, to her father. "Papa!" she almost screamed, ''if the police nave arrested wen, 1 suau tie ! called to give evidence against her! I will never do it?never! I would die first." Clifford ^vas touched. It was only of Nell the^poor little lady thought. Then surely Miss Theodora could not have the slightest suspicion that her own father had anything to do with the crimes! The Colonel, meanwhile, had recovered much of his self-possession. "Calm yourself, my dear," he said to his daughter, but in such a hard ' \ . tone of despair that Clifford began t< feel that he was an intruder upon grie: so deep. "If Nell is arrested " He stopped. For in the middle of his speech then was a knock at the front door. Misi Theodora, Clifford noticed, drew her self up in an attitude of rigid atten tion. There was dead silence in th< little aining-room, unui xue a.ijui:ii >vai repeated louder than before. "I shall go upstairs," said Miss Theo dora, softly, "and see from the win dow who It is. But if it is the police come for my evidence, I will be put li prison rather than give it." She had scarcely uttered the words when a third knock was heard at th< front door. Miss Bostal glided out oi the room and ran upstairs without an other word. Then again there was a pause. Th< two men looked a{ each other by the light of the lamp, which gave but t dim illumination through ite'smokj glass." In the old Colonel's face Clif ford became conscious that there waf written a most pitiful history, the his' tory of a lifelong shame, of an indelibio disgrace. Still only groping towarc the truth as be was, the young mar stood silent, reverent, wondering whai awful thing he was next to learn. For the fourth time the knock, loud it XI er ana more imperative uiuu uauic echoed through the house. Then the Colonel drew a deep sigh and went slowly toward the door. "I am sorry you are here." he said with calm courtesy. "Whatever er rand brings these people, and whoevei they are, you, being here, will be sub jected to some annoying interrogate' ries. Perhaps there may still be time for you to get out by the garden waj before I have to let them in." The old man was talking, it suddenly occurred to Clifford, to fill up the time, for he made no movement in the direc tion of the garden way of which he spoke, but stood in an attitude whici showed that he was listening Intently. "Hark! What was that?" he asked abruptly. Clifford had heard nothing. A doubt, born of hope rather than fear, of the Colonel's complete sanity crossed hie mind. "Upstairs?upstairs!" went on the old man, impatiently, as he at lasl moved, in a shuffling step, toward the door. "I think I heard a window | open." "Shall I go upstairs and see?" asked Clifford. "What are you^ifraid of?" "My daughter?is very determined, .She has made up her mind?that she will not ?give evidence," answered Colonel Bostal, in a shaking voice, "Yes, you can go up and see." Clifford went up the narrow staircase, and called gently: "Miss Bostal!" No answer. But he heard some one moving about softly in the room on his right. He went close to the door and said, with his mouth so near to the keyhole that she could not fail to hear him: "Miss Theodora! Your father has sent me." Then he heard something?a little, weak cry, followed by silence. He drew back a step, and he saw the Colonel standing at the bottom of the stairs. "Shall I go in?" Clifford asked. The Colonel hesitated. "Is the door locked?" he asked. Clifford tried it and found that It was. "Then come away," said Colonel Bostal quickly. At that moment there was a thundering knock at the front door, which threatened to split the old wood into fragments. The Colonel walked slowly along the passage, and, with as U ?? nAOdiMn /Irow thfl hnltfl Hi UL'il UCliij ii a pvooiutv) uavf? and opened the door. Clifford, still on the upper floor, knew that the voices were those of the police sergeant and of another constable belonging to Stroan. * "You've been a long time opening the door, sir," began the sergeant, dryly. But the master of the house had not waited to inquire his visitor's business; he had already retreated into the dining-room. . * The two policemen field a short and hurried consultation in very low tones. Then the sergeant entered the diningroom and reappeared quickly. "He's all by himself. He takes it quite quiet," said he. To be Continued. HOW CIRCULAH SAWS HUE. I*1?UC| An Elaborate Series of Operations, Bat All Needed. Circular saws are now made of casl steel specially manufactured for the purpose. The various processes to which the material is subjected art thus described in'The Hub: "An Ingot heated to the requisite temperature is reduced to the propel thickness in powerful rolls. The plate is then centred and a circle scribed upon It, after which it is passed tc the shearer, who reduces it to a circular form. The centre hole is then bored. It is then handed to the tooth, er, whQ punches out the teeth around the edge, after which it is rough filed or ground on an emery wheel to take off the "burr" left by punching. The rough saw is now again heated in a large furnace until it is of a bright red .-color. It is then plunged Into a bath of sperm oil, which makes it hard and . r?, ?_ if DI'ltTie. Vl'lie Oil IS iueu yamj v-icautu off, and the rest burned off in a furnace to give the required temper When cold the saw Is hammered on a steel faced anvil until it is straight, It' is next ground between vertical grindstones revolving in opposite directions, and then polished with emery on a larg? disk. Once more the hammer men take it, and strike it with smoothed faced hammers on an anvil as before, until it is absolutely straight and true, and has acquired the proper tension, which allows for expansion while the saw is revolving at work. The teeth are now set alternately right and left, to allow for clearances when sawing timber. They I Hion chnrnonori hv hpintr OH I (lie; liJtU UUIU wv...n the front and top of the teeth, wlilcl operation completes the manufacture. If every man capable of bearing arms were put into the field Britain't army would be 9,900,000, against 11,000,000 Frenchmen, or 12,500,000 Germans. The deaf mute usually has thinga rizht at his finzers' ends. fgrnmrnrnrnrnm^mmmmmmmmammm I KWf?* ^ j ( ? J New York City.?Young girls are never so charming as when simply } dressed. The very pretty May Manton ? waist showaa is specially adapted to the I i waist fob a girl. . slender growing figures, and can be . made suitable for school or evening . wear, as it is cut high or low neck, , with plain or fancy sleeves. The origr inal forms part of an entire costume, anfl is made of pale pink wool crepe > de chine with trimmings of narrow , black velvet ribbon and simple cream . lace, the elbow puffs being of pink i chiffon. i The lining is snugly fitted and can be made high or square neck as pre I ferred. The full lower portion of the waist proper is gathered at both upper , and lower edges, and arranged over the ' lining, on to which the square yoke is i faced. The upper portions of the sleeves are slightly full at the shoul! ders, but are cut in points above the ; elbows, which allow ample freedom ( for the soft puffs. Both waist and lining are closed together at the centre back. 1 To cut this waist for a miss of fourteen years of age, three yards of material twenty-one inches wide, two and j seven-eighth yards twenty-seven Inches ' wide or one and five-eighth yards forty-four inches wide will be required, with one-half yard of chiffon for elbow puffs, three and one-half yards- of lace insertionr ten yards of velvet ribbon to trim as illustrated. Woman's Theatre Walat. , No style of waist is more fashionable ? than the one which gives a bolero effect. The May Manton model shown ~ m A SMART TH] in the large illustration includes many novel features and, wljiile specially adapted to theatre wear, is also ' well suited to the entire costume. The original is made of plisse chiffon in cream white with the bolero of white panne and the cuffs and trimming of Irish crochet lace; but any number of i combinations may be suggested. The many soft silks and wools in the mar: kets are appropriate for the waist, i while the bolero can be of the same > or material to match the silk. ( The foundation or fitted lining closes at the centre front, but the waist can i- be made to close at the left shoulder and under-arm seam, or invisibly at the i centre as preferred. The bolero with i its deen noints is peculiarly chic, and , makes part of the bodice. The sleeves are novel and becoming, as the puffs , are arranged to fall at the elbow joints. To cut this vaist in the medium size, four and th'ree-fourth yards twentyone inches wide, four and one-fourth yards twenty-seven inches wide or two and five-eighth yards forty-four inches wide will be required, with threefourth yards of all-over lace eighteen inches wide and four yards of applique to trim as illustrated. Gauze Sashes lor Young Girls. Surely young girls' sashes have never been more lovely, nor wider, one may say. Diaphanous scarf drapery is the order of the day. Immensely wide sashes of satin tissue, Liberty silk gauzes or chiffon are worn by young girls. White gauze sashes sometimes' show applications of velvet flowers. These appear to be embossed on 'the shining surface. Trailing vines are embroidered in fine silver thread as a running pattern on a gauzy sash. The trellis pattern is also used in narrow ; ribbon to decorate a wiile sash of j . gauze. I Ivy Leaves. L A pretty and generally becoming way , of decorating the under-brim band of a modern big hat is to cover it with some artificial flower instead of folds ; of silk or velvet. Of course, flowers j are only becoming to a youthful face, but where the face is young and fair . the floral decoration is enchanting. As a substitute for flowers foliage is used occasionally. Red and yellow maple leaves are tucked under the brim of a hat worn by a pale blonde. A pretty . ? *5' ' ^r~y brunette has her under-brim band covered -with green velvet ivy leaves, a deep but brilliant shade of dark green. Fur-I.ln?d Wrap. A mode-colored loose wrap to cover a dinner dress is of fine warm clotn. It is lined throughout with squirrel fur, but this doesn't show from the outside. Around the high storm collar and down the front passes a wide scarf of white chiffon. It is half a yard wide, and tucked in groups of four inches in the course of its descent, There is a deep hem to the scarf. It is tied beneath the chin in a soft bowknot The scarf end^ hang down to the knees. The wrap has loose sleeveB with outside turn-back cuffs. It is quite loose, back and front. Bolted-in Cpatt. The young girls take to the long coats as ducks take to water. If the coat is more than three-quarter length, and it is close fitting, it should be belted in, to be up to date. One does not attempt to belt in a box front coat, but the ulsters are often belted, especially at the back. These belts are supposed to give a good line to the figure. The belt is supported by underarm straps, and so from under the arms the belt may hang loose, if it is unbecoming to fasten it in front Dreney Bags. There are any number of variations Knrt haon+ffnl Lue uuaiciaiuc uagi ucuumui I things that one carries on the wrist, with the chain given a turn on the fingers |S a safeguard. One in undressed alligator is of a soft castor color. A gold mounting shows up well on antelope. Exquisite ones in beads done in gay figures are designed to hold opera glasses and kindred trifles. A "Walrus Skin Novelty. A handsome chatelaine bag is madt of walrus hide. The deep wrinkles and corrugations in this leather are very conspicuous. Set with either silver or French gilt mounts, the walrus bag is extremely handsome. It makes an uncommonly showy piece of leather work, and, it need scarcely be said,' is unusually substantial. Irish Lace Popular. The popularity of Irish lace in walk* ing costumes is extended now to the j hats, many of these being formed of | thick, hairy beaver, trimmed with a EATRE WAIST. drapery of lace or applied medallions of lace. Woman's Shirt Waist. This May Manton shirt waist, with embroidered fronts, is among the latest novelties of the season, and is shown alike in silk and woolen fabrics. The very pretty model Illustrated Is cut on . the latest,lines, and specially designed for the embroidered materials, but Is nevertheless suited to all walstings, cloths and silks. As shown the maI torini la nnlo hlu#> French flannel, with I -- the embroidery in Persian colors, but numberless combinations are available. The lining is carefully fitted, but .extends only to the waist line, while the waist proper is longer in shirt waist style. The back is plain across the shoulders, and drawn down in gathers at the waist line. The fronts are laid ^n single pleats at the shoulders, which fall to the waist line, and give the j effect of a broad vest. The closing is effected in regulation shirt waist style, through a centre box pleat, and the neck is finished with a deep turn-over collar. The sleeves are in regulation shirt waist style, with narrow, straight cuffs. , To cut tills waist in the medium size three and one-half yards of material THE LATEST NOVELTY. twenty-one Inches wide, three yards 1 twenty-seven Inches wide, or two an^ j one-eighth yards forty-four Inches' t wide will be required. i THE SABBATH SCHOOL INTERWATinkiAi i cccam r ..... ivunw bbWWVIl V<wnil1(icn 19 FOR JANUARY 26. Subject: The Lame Man Healed, Act* lil.,1 .16 ? Golden Text, Ex. xv., 2 ? Memory Verse?, 6-8?Commentary on the Day's Lesson. "Peter and John." The two apostolic leaders; the oldest and youngest, probably, of the noble twelve. Ola friends aftd partners in fishing on Galilee. Luke 5: 10.* Now partners in fishing for men. Different in many ways, alike in principle, in devotion and in purpose. "The hour of prayer." The Jews had daily three hours of prayer?the third, sixth and ninth, answering to 9 a. m., 12 m. and 3 p. m. Peter and John seem to have gone to the temple apart from the others; perhaps to seek an opportunity of preaching to the people, as well as to offer their supplications hpfnrp fJn/1 2. "Lame," etc. Now above forty years old, a confirmed cripple, not able to walk with crutches, but carried like a child into the public places where he might beg; incurable except by divine power. 3. "Into the temple.' From the outer court of the Gentiles into the court of the women and the other courts of the temple. "An alms." The giving of alms was a sacred duty, insisted upon in connection with the religious offerings of the temple. Deut. 14 : 28, 29; 15: 7-11; 26: 12, 13. , 41 "Fastening his eyes.'V Not a mere glance, but gazing upon him with all that sympathy wnich Jove teaches the heart to feel for Christ's sake. "With John." Without interchange of words Peter knew that he and John were of one mind and agreed to ask for the cure of this cripple, assuring him that their prayer would be answered. "Look on us." His words were intended to aid the unfortunate man in collecting his thoughts, and in looking upward to the apostles with hope and confidence. 5. "Gave heed." Obeyed Peter's direction to look, which gave Evidence of faith in its beginning, according to his knowledge. (f. "Silver nnno " Thin vraa nffor tho ?o. tates were sold (Acts 2: 45), and shows how far the apostles were from enriching themselves by the treasures which passed through their hands. "Such as I nave." With this power from Christ to heal, he accomplished far more than if Christ had assigned him the revenue of a kingdom. "Nazareth." Jesus was still living and performing the same works He did when in the flesh. This title had been attached in derision to Jesus, and in thus using it Peter embraced the humiliation and cross of Christ in the condition of healing, as well as His power and glory. "Rise up and walk." The man fel,t there was no mockery in the command. Its words were interpreted to him by the look and touch of Peter, by the rush of new life through him, and perhaps by some memory of Jesus. The command was to do the thing; not merely to try, or to look around for some means to assist in walking. So God commands the sinner to repent and believe and lead a holy hfe. 7. "By the right hand." As Jeeus had done with others. Not so much to strengthen his limbs as his faith. "Lifted him up." A sign intimating the supernatural help he would receive if he exerted himself as he was commanded. 8. "Into the temple." His first act was to join the worshipers. "Walking," etc. He walked in obedience to the command of the apostle; leaped to try the strength of his limbs, and to be convinced of the cure; praising God as the testimony of the gratitude he felt. As loud in praising God as he had been in begging. 10. "Wonder and amazement." Strong emotion of awe, admiration or astonishment. They saw no reason why such an event should take place in that man's life, at his advanced age, for surely there -was no merit in him now more than before. 11. "Held Peter and John." He felt the strongest affection for them, as the', instruments by which the divine influence was conveyed to his diseased body. "Ran together." To the central point of attraction. On the day of Pentecost, when the Spirit was poured out upon the disciples in the upper room, the attention was drawn from the temple service to the disciples; so now the miracle wrought called the attention of all those who had entered the temple at the-hour of prayer. "Porch ?Solomon's." This porch, 600 feet in length and seventy-five in width, overhung the south wall of Jerusalem; it was open toward the temple, but closed by a wall toward the country. 12. "Men of Israel." To whom miracles ought not to be strange things, having been wrought for you, as a nation, in multiplied instances from age to age. "Why marvel." Why do you wonder at what has now happened, when so much greater miracles have lately been performed among you? 13. "God of Abraham." After the error had been exposed, the truth is set forth, as in chapter 2: 15. Peter presents no new religion, no new power, but only the workings of the same God who had done wonders for their ancestors. The Old Testament is the type and foundation of the New. "Hath glorified." Not by this miracle only, but at His baptism and transfiguration, by His many mighty words, hv His death, resurrection ana as cension. "Ye delivered.", Like a wise physician, Peter probed the wound deeply. The apostle was addressing some of the very people who had clamored for the blood of ChriBt. "To let Him go." Pilate knew Jesus was innocent and "had determined to release Him" (R. V.), but the Jews demanded that He be crucified and Pilate yielded to them. 14. "Holy One." A title which had been anplied to Christ in the Old Testament, Psa. 16: 10. "Just." See Chap. 7: 52; 22: 14. The word "just" here means innocent, or one who was free from crime. It denotes one who stands upright in the eyes of the law. "A murderer." Barabbas. Matt. 27: 21; Mark 15> 7; Luke 23: 19. 15. . "Prince of life." The word rendered prince denotes properly a military leader or commander. In Hebrews 2:10 it is translated captain. "Hath raised." They were fiehting against God .and could not but be defeated; Jesus was alive from the dead. "Witnesses." The disciples had seen Christ after His resurrection, and they spoke what they knew to be tne truth. 16. "His name." There was no efficacy in the mere name of Jesus, but the healing was done by His authority and power In this way "the word name is often used bv the Hebrews, especially when speaking of God. See ChaD. 1: 15: 4: 12; Eph. 1: 21; Rev. 3: 4. "Through faith." The connecting link between this deed and its divine Author was their faith. "Perfect soundness." This word is not used elsewhere in the New Testament. It denotes freedom from any defect. The cure was a perfect one. "Of you all." You are all witnesses of this and can judge for yourselves. If this man is sound, Jesus is the risen Messiah. Multiple Telesrrapjr Wln?. The French Government has officially recognized the importance and validity of the recent discoveries in multiple telegraphy by Professor Mercadicr, of the Polytechnic School, by awarding him the [Trade of commander of the Lesion of * J - J. xl_ ^ Honor, mis awara is maae on me uwasion of the new year's experiments which have just been concluded between Tours ind Bordeaux <1nd Paris. Professor Merindier succeeded in sending sixteen messages over a wire at the same time, using ;he Morse alphabet and differently pitencd .indulatory currents. These experiments oroved perfectly successful. Professor Mereadier said that the trains on the State railways of France were being provided with his new apparatus, since it insures the greatest possible rapidity of communication in case of accident. Serman Workingmen Torn to the Army. Hard times are driving hundreds of roung men in Germany not yet liable to nilitarv service to seek immediate admit ;ance to the army. Many have been ac:epted. Germany's conscript military orces are thus experiencing the novelty )f a voluntary enlistment. Hitherto young nen have waited until they have attained ;he age limit and been served with notice ;o discharge their service. The voluntary ecruitB are entirely drawn from the workng class. , ? ' GOD'S MESSAGE TO MAN PREGNANT THOUGHTS FROM THE WORLD'S GREATEST PROPHETS. $ " J':S Poem: America's SaDbatn u?y ?m xm^ Land May It Alwajri Be Revered M Sacred ? The Pathetic Thing About WroDK Dolnr?'Awfaloeaa of Sin. A mighty Nation, proudly nobly free, j Wide her domain! In powew and majesty America, to an expectant world, Goes conquering forth with banner* bright unfurled. . In war her sons undying fame have won, I In peace her progress hath by far outrun AH others, ana Bhe fairly lead* in health, % < In education, science, aye. in wealth; And now in manly sports ner youth excel-* In world-wide contest winning prizes weDi Such the effect, where shim we seek thtf CEUS6 ? What is the rule of life, what code of lawB, J Doth govern this fair land and pave the ); way To her success? Ah, see heaven's radianc# Upon America's holy Sabbath day! , Oh, lovely day, thine impress on mankind; vi Is felt the world around! Who is saf -% blind > He may not see the influence of those \ hours . j . -30 Of sacred peace, which like the cooling . vjj showers, j When furnace heat of day has passed' ' 'i along, \ Descend upon the earth to make it strong!^ Thy blessed lessons, taught through agee ;v past To many millions who are gone, shall last j Till time no more shall be?those truth* ^.^3 that made Their lives sublime our marvelous course -/ij have laid; Our might descends from them, their lives. were pure, And we who follow them shall see endure1 . y; 5^3 The labors of our hands if while we may ?? rrr. -i n ^ j y vv e eiian revere aa uaereu. e cu oa tucjf \ FjEfcti Our own American's holy Sabbath day.) ?Oscar B. Smith, in New York Observer# . Fetr Sin, Kot PosUhnrat. The popular method in religious educa- , tion in the past has been to teach that, if . men do not do right they will sooner or later be found out and severely punished J r% and thus the most of us have' come to dread punishment more than we dread tin.' By punishment I. mean the consequences .' VJS as well as the penalties of wrongdoing.; }"*> It is a humiliating experience for us v> isk - ourselves, when we are involved in a?* course of evil, whether what we really dread most is the possible exposure, or the enormity of the, course which we ar#1 pursuing. We have taught our children' that sin would be inevitably punished.; , f That is true, but there is something far, worse than punishment, and that u the pathetic and awful fact that a spiritual; ^ being can choose to live like a beast; that , a man who might be as honest as the day; ' ' v :an condescend to deceit and dishonesty. . Sin is more avful than the suffering whicn1 follows. Until a generation is reared] . which is trained to teei that wrongdoing itself is worse than the shame of beingi found out, that to know ourselves as dian honest or unclean is more to be dreaded] than public execration, we may expectthat years will grow more dangerous a? - ^ they multiply. We must train men to ab- . ' .Mr hor evil in itself before we can expect them/ to be virtuous. The only safety for any, old or young J Is in learning to love the true,, the beauu-j ' ful and the good; in becojningjo inspired B with lofty ideals'that they shall love them rnt? A?m oalrn* in Irooninff fKi> flnAMT ' of their minds shut and locked against rag* ^estiona of the possible delights of wrong-1 - $3 doing, and in cultivating the habit of 'I thinking that it is a far more awful thing 'H3 to do wrong than, having done wrong, to t \e found out.?Presbytenan Journal. Vijs Curjrim Burdens. Every one carries some burden. It may. be an affliction in the home. It may be a lurking disease, known only to the suf- ; ',ra9 ferer and a few intimate mends, silently. . . making inroads upon his system and bringing the end nearer every day. ItVjoay be' " , a wandering son, whose way the father deplores, ana whose doom ne dreads. It'' may be a financial calamity, which, hae^ aweptf all away. But whatever the trouble there is a message in the Gospel to meei, the case. There is a bright promise foi the darkest day. God has not forgotten ' I Khp troubled soul. He has remembered} Vv.H him in His will, saying: "Call upon Me in' g&SS the day of trouble, and I will deliver thee,;, r and thou shalt glorify Me."?Christian r*; Advocate. ' , ' * . . Religion and PatrfotUxn, vgffl It is impossible to be religious without '' ? being patriotic. The best thing a man can do for a country is to give it the true religion. Liberty, justice and brotherhood are certain results, and happiness comes . . to the people whose God is the Lord?[ When God gave Scotland to John Knox Vj in answer to hia prayer, He gave it to bet1' ter government, larger liberty of thought? . i-j and speech and greater security of hfe^ It is said that Bismarck made the Germany of to-day, but certainly he contrib- . uted less to it than did Martin Luther. It' is impossible to love God and hate one'* country.?Rev. John Pound. Menage of the Beautiful World. What is the message of this beautiful ~4 world to all men? It is that the highest beauty which exists is spiritual, not material. All beauty in the outward world bids men remember that higher beautv'of nobler character and seek to make it tneir , own.?Rev. Joseph K. Mason, Universalist, Chicago. r , The Religion of the Future. In the church of the future the spire* will turn not only Godward, but aiso man* ward, for the religion of the future will be ^ based on the fundamental truth that be- I cause God is one mankind is one, all men i are brothers.?Rev. Joseph Stolz, Isaiah 1 Temple, Chicago. .J How to Live Ennully. 1 Every man who would live eternally 8 must love God with all the affection of 1 his heart and all the strength of his soul. I Sat as far as all the powers of his miaa I ve apprehended ana known of Him.? I Rev. Dr. Quillian, Trinity Church, Atlanta. I Christ's Call. I Christ calls to-day. Make haste and I come down and receive Him joyfully with I the outlook of a new life.?Rev. Andrew a Heltman, Methodist, Denver. How Mach Are Ton Worth? 9 When you want to know how much M B man is worth, don't ask how much money, K he has, but how much he is like God/?' Rev. Dr. A. C. Dixon, Baptist, Boston. I A Note of Warning. I would warn you to choose your' con* panions carefully. If they are those who do not choose to acknowledge God and their Saviour in their pleasures, avoid them, for danger lurks ahead.?Rev. Robert B. Wallace, Presbyterian, Philadelphia. Christ's Embaimdori. Wc need greater love to God and mor? love for each other. Our love must overleap the bounds of Christian brotherhood and reach out for fallen humanity. We are Christ's embassadors.?Rev. William J. Holtzclaw, Baptist, Atlanta. inm Object to "O. H. AT. S." J At a meeting of the Board of Guardians of Roscommon County, Ireland, strong ob jections we're raised by memoers to me n use of the printed initials "0. H. M. S." 90 on the envelopes of the Board of Guard* flBj ians. Notice of motion was given to abol- B ish the practice; the objectors declared H that the initials indicating that their work 8C was on His Majesty's service were emble- m matic of subjugation to a base and harbor- H ous race. They suggested the substitution H of some national emblem or lettering, such H as "On the People's Service." Extent of the Alps. ] I The Alps cover a space of 90,000 square |H miles. ffi I