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? ? ?.. ... *WA- iniV!'i' jean lComioBi, Koerar CHAPTER VII. (Continued.) 80 the days went by. some of tbem drugging heavily, tome all too swift, through the remainder of the summer; nd It was autumn weather before the Affairs of Harold Graham were settUd pnnticrh to admit of his lMvimr the dtj to open a new life Id a new field. After Alecia's Tain attempt to bring about tome adjustment of the affair, tka caae was tried, and she was closely examined to discover, if possible, whether or not there remained some nrtana whereby the creditor. Palmer Rarle, should receive his doe. For four weary hours she was held In the Witness stand. For four Interminable hours these men argued to prove that Harold Graham had not given up all that he could and should to meet the ftemands against him. And what aid they prove? That her fortune was gone with her husband's that nothing waa withheld save her Ilamonds, and those her exclusive [property; and besides this nothing did they prove save bow true and noble <ras Alecia, Harold Graham's wife, {bough not a shadow of softness or rjjekling was granted her bj John ? nTmthrop, counsel for Palmer Earle; Mt a shadow of turning, even when It discovered that there remained no fortune of hers to be yielded to her tasband'a creditors; even though he knew that the handsome house upon she avenue belonging to her was given 9 to meet, so far as it miglit, these leavy demands. Nothing moved him. for down in his heart ha was struggling to yield, and Mb will would not; for be believed it ireakness because of a woman's face, uid would be Injustice to his client. Aleda's mother and sisters were poa the Continent at the time of her husband's failure, aud learned the startling news through the columns of the papers only, for Alecia kept any wmtion of It from her letters; aud they started for home a> soon as artangements could be hurrlep; for in !Mr Home sue waa toe suciume as well m in the world, and those neareat and jurmt T-ould save her unpleasantness *r harm, so far aa lay is human pow* No word of reproach was spokes, of tor husband's careleaaness in this unfortunate Investment that had lost a princely fortune; no word was ottered among them save perfect love and refret and encouragement. Harold Graham had too long been to them an Ideal honorable man for them to question his Integrity. Mrs. Field insisted apon their remaining at her house, lad admitted no denial when Harold iraiail ?-?r? o .itwI #?w\m ?Ka mntK. MF-' tfigvu vvjvvviyuo, auu ttvui iuc ?r to Beatrice, the youngest of the family, they all?Marion and Cora and Prances?gave only good cheer to this favorite aiater and her husband. "I hate that lawyer of Mr. Earle'sr Vied Beatrice, with flushing cheeks tad sparkling eyes. "He is the only Me who Is so bard upon Harold. The tthers are willing to give him time to Ittrieve himself, but this John Winthrop? I've got hla name by heart, 1 tssure you, for I'll not forget him if the time comes to remember?ia like idamant, and urges Mr. Earl* to tbe my last extremity, and is so generalkm T ?*UW V Vf-_ IT ?WIWI UMI A WWII A WVUIU VCU Uiili irhat I think, of him. Maybe he isn't % Med to hearing the truth, bat he'd tear It then!" "Which would utterly crush him, of loom!" said Marion, ironically. "Even if it hasn't cone so yet, for 1 Set him lust now and he still troil the tfreet like a veritable Prince of the * t Stony Hearts. Miss Bee." said a iaughlng voice at the door, as the fiootman announced: "Mr. Gregory Bensonhurst.'* CHAPTER VIII. raaawauu "Aleeiar "Yes, mamma." "Why will rou and Harold be so absurdly proud as to give up all borne ?ies, hide yourselves from frieuda who iove you, and go to the other side of the country because misfortune has some upon you? You know that you KM mom thun walnmna *t\ mn? ?l<t home while Harold Is retrieving birn elf. Misfortune is liable to fall upon toy of as; it is no crime. Why should foa go swsj as thought it were?' "Or as though you were defaulters'.'" odd Marion, her bands among the em* broidery silks in ber lap, ber eyes lifted for the moment to ber sister's quiet (ace. "Or the naughty children who threw tton?s at the prophets!" added Cora. "Or bkle in the woods for robins to feed, because the wicked uncle wanted their money!" supplemented Beatrice, la ber swift, defensive voice. "I wish 1 could Mod Jobn Wiutbrop to the Sandwich Islands to be eaten by cannibals! It's no more Luau be deserves for being so hateful." "They wouldn't eat him, Bee," laid Cora, soothingly, "bee-use be is too tough!" "Anjrbow, tbcy'd scarr bim!" retorted Beatrice, unmollitled. "And somebody oucht to lower his nrhl*"' Atecia laughed, more because of . their protestations than :rom lightness of heart "You must not think our going Jthi* light." she said, presently, unable to epeak at Qrst, because 01 Beatrice's lavish caresses. For Beatrice considered Aiccla the ideal of womanhood. jiarold has lost everything through those fraudulent mining Investments and the rest. 2nd it is impossible for him to retrieve himself in thin State, in consequence of his heavy debts. We are going Wen becausc there the field seems good. California is charming, especially Southern California. and we will doubtless meet with pleasan* people. I hare long deaired to travel through that State and Colorado and Oregon?those brave piofleer sister States of our.;, you know and here the opportunity open*! "Of course, we will be that distance from boiLe; but if all goes well witu o?. we shall return as soon as there Jr a chance of paying these dreadful debta. You can, too. come to as next 2, NoscL KATE LUDLCJM.; Doxxru'a SOXF. 1883. J summer Instead of going to Europe, if you wish, and it isn't half so bad as going to Bee's Sandwich Islands or Siberia! Now that the worst trouble is over, Harold needs rest and change. The poor, dear fellow la terribly worn!" "Yes," said Beatrice, tearfully, patting her sister's hand, "poor dear! I Just hate John Wlnthrop afresh every time!" "Your hatred doesn't move him, Bee." said Marion, in her cool way; "for he hasn't asked for your love. I would not allow him to trouble my conscience to such an extent It is bad enough for Aleda and Harold to go away without giving grief or thought to a stranger!' "He'd call them crocldUe's tears, anyway. Bee, If he knew It!" added Cora. i -Nevertheless.'* said AJecIa, quietly, rumpling up the drown curls upon Beatrice's head as the girl sat upon the rug at her feet?"in spite of all this. Bee. dear, I am certain that Mr. Winthrop simply carries out his standard of honor toward his client He is hard in doing so. but be is an honorable man." "And setting aside honorable men and crocodile tears and John Winthrop." added Prances, softly?Frances was sitting idly at a window looking down upon the avenue?"it still remains a self-evident fact that dear little Alecia and her husband are going to leave us next week. There is do use in arguing with them, I know, mamma, and Marion and Cora and Bee?bccause when once the minds of those Grahams are made up to do a thing, that thing they will do If it is in human power. You couldn't turn them any more than yon could turn the crocodile's tears to pearls!" "But we can never get you ready to go in one week. 'Lecla!" cried Beatrice. "You can't go so soon. I shall tell Harold that it is impossible." "And the only benefit that you will derive from that information wlJl be to learn that Harold takes Alecia's word against the world. Mistress Bee!" said Cora. **I descry That Cora and I At loggerheads will live and die!" ' "There no place like home." said Beatrice, wickedly. "Maybe I know just as much as you do about Alecia and Harold, Cora Field!" "Maybe you do!" retorted Cora, with a significant shrug of her shoulders. "But as Harold is coming, maybe it would be as well for your to keep that ?and your doggerel?to yourself. Bee." "And this is no way to discuss Ale da's going.'* said Mrs. Field, gravely, endeavoring to be beard above this Babel of tongues. "You girls are as bad as little children with your disagreements; It is enough to drive one distracted to listen to you. One cannot talk connectedly or think with any common sense, among you. Come to my assistance, Harold, and bring order out of this chaos," she added, as Graham paused in the doorway, bis eyes seeking his wife, as they always sought her duriug this weary time. "What shall 1 do to govern these chatterboxes when you and Alecia are gone?if you must go." "You are kind," he said, still with that strange, feverish restlessness of voice and manner, crossing to his wife. "Yes, we must go, Mrs. Field?and at once. I canuot endure this life much longer." There was a fierceness in his voice that startled Alecia, although she was outwardly calm, looking up to him standing at her side. "We will co. then, at once, dear." she ! said. But farewell was a harder word to utter than they thought during those harried days of preparation. "Still." said Alecia. to her husband, when their lot seemed cast in specially hard places, "think of bow many friends we have proved true, Harold, dearest" And she repeated this assurance to herself over and over, figb^ng to be brave, fighting to hide her own sadness. No one knew how she fought for that, unbetrayed in her comforting words and strong faith. So tbe swift days of tbe week went by. and the day of departure was come, and Harold Graham and bis wife were booked as passengers upon a Pacific Mail steamship bound for Aspinwall on their way to California. Mf * la oAot*An1t* tlmo fftl" a?tnm? storms," said Alecia, arguing down the fears of their friends, "and tlie sea change will be excellent for Harold. I have no fear of the water, you know. One grows to love it as one ioves the hills as one gains confidence." "But I could never, never gain confidence." protested Miss Bess Catherwood, emphatically. She was home from Fire Island and on deck, of course, to bid godspeed to her friends. "Besides." added Alecia. smiling, her eyes upon her husband's haggard face and feverish eyes?alert always for his comforting?"we will so enter by way of the Golden Gate into the city; that augurs well for us. you see. One comes to wctch for auy chance good when then? Is need. Miss Uatberwood." "You will not forget to write regularly to us nil." urged Corn, tearful at the last, as she cluug for a moment about Alexia's neck. "1 will not forget,"' said Aleria. her own eyes not clear of tears, "is it likely that I should, Cora?'' "No." said Cora, with a sudden inner conviction that parting was. after aM. more to her sister than she would acknowledge. "No! (Jood'bye. Alecin. Good-bye, Harold Bon voyage! iioc voyage!" "Goodbye," said Alecia steadily?It seemed to her at times that she was growing incapable of showing emotion, from her constant struggle to master whatever was trying to others?her hands upon ber hut-band's arm as their friends left them aud the great ship weighed anchor and bore them slowiy I away to the new life, her free turned * ? 41 ?? lw??w% iwnr hnt> 10 I lit* Li J. i ucw |?? *?; . i I liaatfkerdiief aoswerios thAflutter of ! 1 handkerchiefs from those left behind ! in the home city. "And now," she added, by and by, J as the bay lay before them and the ocean stretched ahead, the bustle oo deck proving that in trnth they were sailing away from all that was dear to a new life?"and now, Harold, we mast live for God and each other and have no fear." "You are my life's angel!" he said, under his breath, but with feverish vehemence. "There can but good come to me with you. even remembering what I have brought upon you." One or two of the passengers prom* I enadlng the deck, watching the sunset, turned to look after her as they passed by. One hand was upon his arm. the other rested lightly upon the rail. "I refuse to bear any word against my husband," she said, calmly. "The Golden Gate for which we are bound may open pleasant lands for us, Harold. The flowers of the West are still sweet, though the Eastern gardens falL' Remember that, dearest" "And It shall be so!" said Harold Graham presently, with stern determimtinn "Thonrh Palmer Earle would grind me to the last for his debt, jet I will rise against him? against all that would oppose me?and gain a fortune and give you your old luxuries, and laugh at them. Alecia. I will not be put down! I will show them that Harold Graham's pride and ambition match even those of Palmer Earle!" "But Mr. Earle was not so much to blame as his counsel. Harold." said Alecia. her eyes upon tbe sunset hcav> ens beyond the water and tbe receding land. "Mr. Earle was willing to compromise the matter, but Mr. Wlntbrop considered it unwise. I think them both just men." "What have I to do with them." said w? +*<!! **; ni* unnn hor (211(1. li CI uuouauuf bututu^ U|/VM MV> denly and fiercely, "In our new life, Alecla? I shall prove my honor and my pride against their any day. There is no guilt upon me." And then silence came upon him and his eyes turned from her face, for, like a black letter upon a snowy page stood vividly out the struggle In that night of storm and blackness when he came ?ui*n?ir? tho tomntpr?>ivhpiL DV JkJCUi J ItiUltiQ iV * to save himself, be would let his enemy drift from under his hand into eternity. And she, not knowing, still trusted in and believed in him, and he conld not meet her eyes, but looked to the fiery sunset and was stilL "Still," Gregory Bensonburst said, anxiously, as he turned from watching the ship away upon the day of departure, "I wish Graham took it easier. It isn't his fault, this failure. The investments looked reasonably good. Of course, he put almost everything in, which was unwise, but no one doubted its security until the crash came. I never saw any one take a thing to hi>nrt as he has this. I have been with him a good deal, yoa know," Miss Beatrice was listening with bowed bead as he walked beside her up the pier to the "elevated" station, "and I have had an opportunity of judging." Then they talked upon Indifferent subjects until they reached the uptown station where they were to leave the train to'cross town to Fifth avenue. Here, as Beatrice and Bensonhurst, were passing out of the gate, a gentleman hurrying up the stairs ran almost against them and turned to apologize. As he lifted his bat, glancing from Benson burst to Beatrice, after addressing blm by name, a peculiar stiffness came over his manner. The girl's quick eyes noted this, and turning to her companion, she asked abruptly: "Who Is be. Mr. Bensonburst? A strange face, is it not? You look as though you do not particularly love him. I didn't know that you could be so cross!" * fMtrii TTOa nnnn hi* fflCf* AS thoUCh his thought of the man was not the i most pleasant, but at her last words I he laughed. "Really, Miss Beatrice," he said, ! "you have not yet proved what a bear 1 I can be! But the gentleman you men- j tlon, although be occupies a position j which many envy, is not envied by ! your bumble servant, because he pos- | sesses your hatred. That, Muss Beatrice. ia?John Wlnthrop!" (To be continued.) bbooclHN on Qbhb Victoria. "I had the honor of being one of her Majesty's dislike*. I do not suppposc that it was due *o m~ having opposed so many Royal grants, but probably bad its origin at my having jeered at the Battenbergs or some other of her likes. And yet I hav no doubt that I 1 * ? ? nflmtrotinn frtr hof IJtlU U UiUlC DIUVT1V UW-.WVM ? I than most of the flunkeys who bowed | and scraped before her. "What I admired in her was ber contempt for those who were trying | to buy social distinction by means of j their money bags, and the simplicity | of her hnblts; -while I always felt that j if she did occasionally interfere too < much in politics, she did so less than : any other of ber predecessors and al- j ways yielded to the advice tendered i to her by responsible advisers in re- ! gard to policy and sometimes in regard I to less important matters. She would not have been a woman bad she nut acted on her likes and dislikes, and in everything she was thoroughly womanly."?London Truth. I Mo "Keep Of lb* Gnu" Signs. "Keep OCT the llrass" signs are no longer to be found in Cleveland parks, or, if they are. they have been overlooked. According to the Plain l>eal- | er. Mayor Johnson has ordered them j all removed. "What's the use of having parks that | people may only look at?" said he | yesterday. "If these jK-ople whose j business it is to keep the parks green and pretty eau't do it we'll get others ! who can. But the people are going to \ walk on the grass if they want to." j Great Advance in the L'?e of Robber. As late us 1830 the importation of j rubber into Knglaud amounted only to 50,000 pounds. In lSlHJ no less j than 1G.U7.~i.584 pounds were consumed ! in that country, and the consumptioa in the United Slates reucbed 51.MKi.737 pound*. Most of tbe rubber used in the world still comes from equntcnal Koutb America. uud tbe forests Tvfcire tbe Incians fathered ule are as dense | to-day and almost as little known to ' white meu as in tbe time iS Cortes. THE SABBATH SCHOOL INTERNATIONAL LESSON COMMENTS FOR APRIL 6. Aabject: 8?u1 of Tana* Converted, Act* Ix., 1-30?flolden Text: AcU 111., 19? Memory Verses, 3-5?Commentary oa the Day's Lesson. 1. "And." "But."?R. V. The "but" marks the contrast between the missionary zeal of Philip, and the persecuting zeal of Saul. One is inflamed by hatred, the other inspired by love. "Saul." The same as mentioned in the story of Stephen. His name in Hebrew wag Saul, his Roman name v\a? Paul. "Yet." Up to this moment his blind, persecuting rage against the disciple* of the Lord burned as fiercely 38 ever. ' DrCdiniDg OUV iuicaii.uiu^9. Persisted in persecuting the disciplcs witb increasing violence, as if be coold. not breathe without uttering threatening! against them, or would, if able, have slain tnetn with the breath of his lips. "Unto the high priest." "Being a zealous volunteer in tbe service he devised plans for fully exterminating the religion of Jesus, and was ready to carry them into execution to the utmost_of his ability." 2. "Damascus." This u tlie oldest city in the world, situated about one hundred and forty miles northeast of Jerusalem. 3. "Suddenly." About noon (chap. 22: 6); at midday (chap. 28: 13), when the sun was shining so there could be no deception. "Light." It was "above the brightness of the sun." Chap. 26: 13. It was ia the midst of this glory that Christ was seen by Saul (1 Cor. 15: 8), so that he could enumerate himself among those who had beheld the Lord after His resurrection. 4. "Fell to the earth." The whole company fell to the earth. Chap. 26: 14. "Heard a voice." In the Hebrew tongue. The voice was clear and distinct to Saul, but to thaw with him it was only a mysterious sound. (See on v. 7.). "Why persecutest thou Met" Canst thou give any good reason Tor it? Must I afresh be crucified by thee? Those who persecute the saints persecute Christ Himself, and Ha takes what is done against them as done unto Himself. 5. "Who art Thou?" Jesus knew Saul before Saul knew Jesus. "Lord." Used to denote respect for tome unknown august person. "I am Jesus." He takes the name which was the object of Jewish hate. Thy enmity is against Me and My religion. He whom you persecute is the Lord of life and glory, not simuly poor, fugitive disciples. "It is hard, etc. This clause and the first part of v. 6 arc omitted from the Revised Version, but they belong to the account for Paul himself utters them in thap. 36: 14. "Kick against the pricka." Or goads; as stubborn oxen did, thua wounding themselves the more deeply. 6. "Trembling," etc. A true description of a sinner who nces the wickedness of his heart. "What wilt Thou," etc. Convinced that he had persecuted Christ, and that his religious views and character were wrcn^, he submits himself to the will of Him who had arrested him in his blind career, with the consent that he would be obedient to all His directions. "Arise." Until now he had continued prostrate on the ground. "Go." Into Damascus, to be * ?A 4"J L- w?o nn Kit WAV innrucicu uj uuc huuw uv nu< ?? ?/ to destroy. 7. "Hearing a voire." In chap. 22: 9 we are told that those with Paul "heard not the words." What i* meant is clearly that they did not hear the words as words? could attach no meaning to the sound. We say that a voice in not heard, or that tve do not hear him, when, though we hear his voice, he speaks so low or indistinctly that wc do not understand him. 8. "Saw no man." "Saw nothing." R. V. The dazzling brightness of the light had made him totally blind. This blindness was. no doubt, mercifully intended by Providence to gire him an opportunity to attend to the great matter of nis soul a salvation. 9. "Neither did eat," etc. The mental tngurh for a time overpowered the natural craving for food. 10. "Ananias." We know nothing of this man except what we find in this lesson and in chap. 22: 12. He was a devout man, in good report among the Jews, was in communication with the brethren at Jerusalem, and was trusted by them. "In a vis.nn " Saul was creuared for the visit by a vision, and by a vision Ananias is told to go to him. 11. "Straight." Main thoroughfare of Damascus; so-called from its running in a direct line from the eastern to the western Gate. It wan a mile long, a hundred feet wide, and divided by Corinthian eolcmns into three avenues. "He prayeth." "Breathing out" no longer "threatenings ?r>d daughter," but struggling desires after '.ifo and light in the persecuted One. 13. "'Have heard," etc. This hesitancy on the part of Ananias to visit Saul does not prove that he was either fearful or int-Iined to disobedience. He was merely exercising due care; he desired to be sure about the matter. "Thy saints." The Christian converts wore probably called ''wiintn." that is. "holy persons," at a rery early period after the death of Christ becaune of the marvelous outpourings of the Spirit uoo.i the first converts. 15. "flo." This brief, expressive word ;f the Lord (1) demands implicit obedience. (2) puts the doubts of a weak faith shame. (3) contains a promise of the Lord's and blessing. A chosen vesicl." One whom in view of his htness as & man. -lesus had chosen for a great mis*ion. This, however, implies neither any imrossibility that he would disobey Hi rail, nor any eternal predestination to salvation. Rod chow and appointed Saul because Saul chow the Lord. 16. 'He must suffer." Compare Paul's own words in chap. 20 : 23. See also chap. 14: 19; 2 Cor. 11: 23-28. 17. "Ananias went." How beautifully childlike is the obedience of Ananias to the heavenly vioinn. "Brother Saul." Knowing that the Lord had ehosen Saul to a fcered office. Ananias felt a great respect for him and an interest in his salvation. 18. "As it hnd been s.-ales." There it a difference of opinion as to whether literal scales fr!l from his eve. There is no question. however, but that the restoration of h>K fcicht wan nunematur.il. The nature of the injury we cannot determine, hut it is ccrt.im 'hat the recovery was inxtantareo;j? and complete. "Arose?baptised." j From tbi? we we that he wan immediately la;>tizcd before he had received meat. 1!>. Food. "Certain days." TIow 'our is not known. It might have been for conic months, n* he did not go to .ler.jr.I^em until three vcarn from this [ time. lie remained xomc time at Damnsi cus. I he n went to Arabia and returned npai". to Damascus, and then went to Jeru??ilcn:. 20. '\ctraiffhtway." Immediately. "Preached C'hrift." He proclaimed that Jcius was ihe Christ. V. 22. j% lirrM-uranduininrr ? rorty-tour. All .<voril* for a irreat-irrandmother have be?n broken by Mrs. Minnie Davis, of Orcalia, Neb., whose Krcat-praridihild wan oorn when Mr*. Davis wax forty-four vears old. Mm. Davis wa* born >n lioston in IMS. ami was married when twelve vear* old. Her eldest daughter. .Mr*. Klli*, of Council liluffs, Iowa, was born in lh7(?. ?nd w.is married at thirteen. Mr*. Kills'* daughter, Mr*. Kighy, of Seattle. Wash., was Uirn in 18K3, and was married at Ktteen. Her eldest child. Kva, was bom in !8W. Oinz's frrwDl to Kooarvvit. Tlir President of Mexico has sent to President Roosevelt three pieces of exquisitely drawn linen. Tin* pft was presented through .lidin IJarrett, delegate to the CanAim-riean Congress. The specimens are considered the most lieautiful that have ever ??>me to this country. They are a tray cover and two serviettes. The hasis waj the finest linen. The linen was worked out hy the clever Indians of (iaudtilajara. and is more filmy than the lii:t>t lace and aj. delicate an spider web. Handwriting by Trlephonr. The telautograph, .in instrument which traiixmitH liandwritsnt: )>y telephone. ha* liecn tried in the ('rutnil telephone iffi-.e nt l'aris. Frame. K\:>. r.mei.t- were conducted over the i'urhfLyons wire. a?>d. except i.?r a ulijiiit tremor due t-j iuduit.v:;. werr ptriectiy ?uctr??u;. . r ' *" u ?7 ' V'T' ; j THE GREAT DESTROYER SOME STARTLINC rACTS ABOU1 THE VICE OF INTEMPERANCE. Strong Drink tbe Can* of Millions In Onr Modern Clvilizntlon?Lylng. Pro* cra?tt nation nnd Mlf-Dtlulon Art In livery OUu of Spit Its. "There is a way that seemeth right unto a man, but the end* thereof are the ways of death."?Provertjf, xlv, 12. This U to be no yermon on tectolaium. The desire in to discuss with young men and others, not a sentimental principle, but the interest of each individual. Strong drink is the curse of millions in our modern civilization. There is throughout society what may be called a "whisky level." J'lns levei exists in every great city and in every small village.' There are men classed as whisky drinkers, bard drinkers, and, whatever they may profess to believe, they are and they know they are the pariahs of the community. Whisky has many apolojists; there are many arguments offered in it: favor. But f these arguments arc feeble compared with those that may be brought against it. You arc tolu truthfully this: The drinking nations of the world are the great and successful nations. A small handful of drinking English can subdue and control the temperate millions of India, Egypt, etc. Perfectly true. The powerful races do drink. But the powerful individuals do not drink. The conquering armies are armies of drinking men usually?but their leaders are sober, temperate men. If you want to be one of the ordinary crowd, no worse and no better than others, drink spirit* "moderately," as whisky's friends put it. But remember that there is no such thing ? J? -1-: < ?? I ?U9 UnilKKlK HUICUJ tuuuVIM Immoderate drinking makes yon a I brute; it classes you among those in the picture; so-called moderate whisky drinking takes the edge off your ability. It discounts your mental activity. You can't be one of the really successful men if you start out to be a moderate drinker. What does a young man lose by not drinking spirits? In the first place it is necessary to cultivate the taste in the beginning. Why cultivate it at all ? In the second place, admitting all the usual sophistry about moderate drinking, whisky means the loss of time, lo?* of money, loss of clear mental thought. There is boastisz, lying, vacillation, procrastination, self-delusion in every gla*3 VI BpillM. How many millions of men?on their dying bed ? have wished fervently and mournfully that they had never tasted spirits? Did any dying man ever regret a temperate life? England drinks more gin?pcrhnp^? than any other two nations. But the gin of England is drunk hy England's failures. The successful of England don't know the taste of gin. The deeper you go into Whitechapel the greater me numucr v? gin bottles per capita. Young men should know and daily remember that whisky and all other spirit* cheat their bodies and brains. i Whisky does for the nerve* what a lash | does for a tired horse. Your system needs rest. Your brain to compete with others ought to sleep and reI ccperate. Whisky lies to vou. It makes j you think that it can give the rest and the renewed strength. It creates an appetite in the nerves, and when you satisfy that appetite it makes you think you have found renewed strength, whereas you have j pnlv taken a new dose of poison. Your brain anJ heart are lashed by whisky into temporary activity. And you wonder that you are passed in life's race hy the man of less ability. You need not wonder. He has given his brain, body and heart normal rest. whi[e you have given j jours a beating.?New York Journal. Aa Old, Old Story Told Acaia. i To be born with a good body, a pleasing ; countenance, quick intelligence, a tine ! voice and talent that win* early recogni| tion?that, surely, is a heritage to be ' grateful for. A man who was thus endowed died in ; Boston on Sunday. Time was when people would crowd thea; tres to hear him sing and see him dancc j and laugh at his fun. I He made immense sums of money and j might easily have retired with wealth bej fore he was forty. ! Instead, he died penniless at fifty-sis in j a poor lodging house, separated from his I family, ana all bis friends were t.r. 1 of i trving to save him from himself. hi'li.i ?i mnitj. That one word is the epitaph of Dill? ; Emerson, the minstrel, rich. an?l lanuus ; in his \yav not so very long ago. And be differed from the count'css wrecks whom he went to pieces on'y in his greater natural sifts and the larger oppor! tunitics for better things which those gifts ! brought him. I He had plenty of brains and seemed to have good sense. i But thr.t was not so. No man with good j sense will drink whisky when experience tells him that he likes it too well. . That is the ksson whk-h Billy Emerson ! and all his unhappy kind bequeath to ! young men.?New York Journal. Ia ? Drunkard m Lnoatlr? Senator Trainor believes that an liable ual drunkard should be sequestered and treated in many respects the same as a lunatic. The Senator has introduced a bill in the Legislature at Albany which per; mits the commitment of a man charjred I with habitual drunkenness to an ?nstituj tion from which he cannot escape vithout | an order from the Supreme Court. The ; bill in other forms has wn introduced for j the last three years, and ha* always been j opposed for its drastic assumption that a drunkard is unable to take care of himself or manage his affair*. It has been pointed out by those averse to the Trainor plan that there are so many varying degrees of drunkenness that there might be danger of a wealthy man who dru.ik freely even- day being hurried off by designing relatives and locked up for an indefinite period. Doe to Alcoholism. Europe is discovering thr.t crime i* il* creasing there far more rapidly among the young than among'the adults. Ai the fifth congress of criminal anthropology, recently held in Amsterdam, the startling fact was brought out that there arc six j times as manv murder* committed by j young men between the ages of sixteen ami twenty a* bv adults between thirty and thirty-five. The cause is charged to the iucrease of alcoholism. Tli* Cniud* lo Brief. More alcoholic liquors are drunk in France than in any other country. Id 18S0 one (h-rnon in every 1515 Prussians became insane by mean* of drinl:. Habitual drunkenness is a direct ? ?u,e for absolute divorce in thirty-five ?t??ts of the Union. A great proportion of the cpilosy, idoey and mental deficiency are ;iUo due to the drunken habits of the parents o: ol the afflicted themselves. tK* ro uf.fp ?L?.?30 tram: s ill I the* thermal: labor colonie*; ail but twentythree |tr ie:<t. of these w?re thus degraded throuy!; drunkenness. Experts :n the care o: the po->r :: ice from rtfty to ninety per cent. oi the ;>s..irty to the drink iustoma. The .Jerry McAulifle mission in Xew York City had last year an attendance <>i 40.0o0 people at it* iiMretiugs. Many oi thtse are homeless men and drunkard-'. We have heard "there is little drunkenness in Germany." but l>r Bm!e states that "in Prussia alone ^It~i ea?es ?>l delirium tremens were treated in the hospita.s in I8S0 " N?i woman is compelled to live with the wor.?t ail brute*?a drunken brute?: ? the |K-nl of her health a:id life. i>u*. *he has a ri^ht to ltave h;m and live tor cur apart from him until he furnishes he; 1 djlitarle evidence oi reform. "55 JMD H$T OT! New York City.?Waist* that include ? sharply-pointed revers suit many c figures better than other styles. The t smart May Man ton blouse illustrated i BlrOUS* WAIST. Das toe additional merit or including the latest sleeves and of suiting odd waists and entire costumes equally j well. As shown, the material Is crepe < de Chine in pale blue, with dotted < panne satin in the same shade mak- 1 ins the revers and vest, white mousse- i line the chemisette and plain blue 1 satin the bands, but all the season's ! materials are appropriate and number- < less combinations can be made. I The lining fits to a nicety and closes < at the centre front. The back proper 1 is smooth across the shoulders and /1ortn?n <lAwn In cro thoffi lit tho WXlifit uiunu ui/tiu iu ?line, the upper portion being of contrasting matorl.il to form tbe joke, i The fronts are laid iu groups of five i tucks, stitched with-silk. And are ex- i tended to form the revers, which are faced and rolled back. At each edge, forming a narrow vest, are strips of i the revering which are joined to the i waist beneath the tucks. The chemisette is cut from all-over tucking, and ] is finished with a regulation stock of i tbe same. The sleeves are slightly full at the shoulders, and are laid in horizontal tucks above the cuffs that MISSES' BLO fall free and form puffs at the outer portion. The cuffs are deep and pointed over the bands. To cut tiiis waist in tbe medium size three and three-quarters yards of material twenty-one inches wide, three and a half yards twenty-seven inches wide, two and three-quarter yards thirty-two inches wide, or two yards forty-four inches wide will be required, with one and a half yards twenty-one wM" tnr troat rovwrs JlTJll Ollffs 1 lUi UVO n IMV AVt ? vo*. v v.. ? and one-half yard for chemisette. Xlmt* Blouse Eton Jacket. Blou.se Etons are always becoming to young girls, and are In the height of both present and coming styles. The excellent May Manton model Jllustrated In the large drawing shows the latest designs executed in tancolored broadcloth, but all suiting materials are equally appropriate, and cloth, cheviot and taffeta are suitable tnr sonorntn wmnc. In th?? case of the original the collar nDd bolt are of velvet and all edges nre stitched with selfcolored corticolll silk, but the collar can be of the material If preferred. The blouse is smooth and without fulness at the back, but is arranged in j gathers at the front, where It blouses ( slight]}- over the belt. Joining the fronts and backs nre under arm gores that Insure a satisfactory flf. The ( fronts are faced and turned back to . form lapels and a regulation collar ( that meets them and rolls over with | it hem is attached to the neck. The | sleeves are in coat style, slightly bell- j .shaped, and left open for a short dis- , tancc at the outer scams. When de-|. |>Ir d the circular basque extension can |. b<? joined to the lower edge, the seam ' \ being concealed by the belt. j, To cut this blouse for a girl of four- ; teen years of age four yards of mate-1 j jial twenty-one inches wide, one and a n>n!f yards forty-four inrbes wide, or , ione aud three-eighth yard* fifty inches ! ^ Wide will be required. Now It'i th# Neck. Last summiv nearly every girl who boasted arms anything short of veritable horrors wore her sleeves at halfmast. This year, if she accepts the jmost swagger advance models from Paris, she will expose her neck as well. The new afternoon gowns of batiste, j aud other lace-trimmed fabrics, will reach just to the base of tb? neck. This leaves the neck delightfully free, making those of us who have always I'liinrcri thin ton tiuish to house dresses wonder how we ever consented | to swathe our unoffending throats out-1 of-doors. Taklnc on UreadU:. If liro.nl shoulder* have uot been thrust upon oin> ihcy must he acquired. I v If this he out of the question there are v several ways of assuming this virtue, f though we have it not. First is the | !i JL ide pleat In the bodice extending out >ver the sleeve; the two form a broad >ox-pleat effect. Then there's the nar? ow collar, the revers separating the >retty yoke from the rest of the waist. Well cnt, It gives breadth. And then here's the elongated shoulder, which s made to extend a bit over the top of he sleeve. Oh. It's easy! , PuaMl and Umbrella Handle*. The animals are out again in parasol rnndles, the elephant, in ebony, form* ng the head of a black handle to 4 tvhlte parasol. Other animals are out n natural wood. An attractive plate white silk parasol has the frame and mndle to within about three Inches of the top of white and the rest ftlack. Both umbrellas and parasols in many if the newer designs this past year liave had the three inches of the upper part of the handle of silver, gun metal }r something ornamental, different from the body of the handle. Tnittad of Bow. No longer is the bov? or even the rhlf? Too cbou a necessity upon the handle if the down-to-date parasol. A white rord and tassel now form the finishing touc h for ever so many modish sunshades. being especially suitable for the smart plain ones, as well at for the balf-dressy ones. A very attractive ?ne noted in grass linen is edged with flvc-inch-dcep tucks, and is lined with crhite silk. It is charming, and Itoasta the white-tasseled handle. Doable RaflUi, There's a noticeable tendency toward double ruffles. Parasol ruffles of chiffon. instfed of being hemmed, are made double. Even when a lace raffle falls over the one of chiffon It Is still made double. This same double raffle appears, too. on dresses, elbow sleeves oftrn being finished with three double ruffles of varying widths. Tbey are pretty is a setting ror iace nounccs on any port of the drew. Caban Cord*. Some of these body hats hare a colo* ver USE ETON. woven Id. and some have a small cord, called Cnban for some reason or other. A pearly braid, sheer and exquisite, forms the greater part of these softly pretty hats. For children the wire frame is unnecessary, also for young girls, in which case the droopy affair is in reaiity a shepherdess shape. J Body Haw. Soft and willowy in the extrem? are the new body hats. Why "body bats" there's no learning; perhaps because they've no body at all. 80 pliable are they that they may be turned inside out without exertion or' damage, and they have to be strengthened by a wire frame in order to be at all manageable. Knickerbocker Halt in Norfolk Stylo. Little boys are always charming dressed Id knickerbockers and .rather long Russian coats. Their own manly ambition is gratified by tlie trousers and ihe absolutely short legs are hidden from view. This pretty little suit is shown in cream serge banded with cream braid and worn with a white leaiher belt, but blue and brown serge, velvet, velveteen, corduroy, cloth and nil flip heavier washable fabrlcs.phjue. iluek linen aiid the like are equally appropriate. The kuickor bookers fit smoothly about the waist and hips, but are full at the kne*?s below which they are irawo np by means of elastic Inserted In the hems. The coat is laid in two box pleais at the back, two at the front ind laps over to close in doublebrcast d style, with handsome pearl buttons iud buttonholes. At the open neck is I i big square sailor collar, and tilling [he opening is the smooth shield. The de?ves are lu regulation style, the fulJess at the wrists laid in stitched licks. To make tbi* suit for a boy of th/ee roars of a^e four and three-eighth ards of material twenty seven inches -> m K.VICKCKBOCEEB SCIT. fide, four yards tliirty-two inches - id*, two and three-eighth yards fortyour inches wide, or two yards tifty aches will will be required.