University of South Carolina Libraries
w" * ? - If LUKE H/ || THE 11 By Prof. Wo. Henry Pa I I Aatbor of the Stone-Cutter h j gf Usfcon,** Etc. CHAPTER VL f Continued. 1 Tell me where you found the will, main!" cried Elgin. This morning, while Mrs. Harker and I were removing the rubbish and 1 your paintings, to prepare this room for your occupancy?the white and gold ' chamber being too near the main house?the missing will was found In a small box In which you kept your ' rials of tints." J MAh! I placed It there the day I was IntMilln# tft <*? it to S lucu 9IVA? W>VM%?.MP ~ ? ? ? friend of mine the next day," said Elgin. "I wonder 700 did not find It before." "The keenest search had overlooked ft," said Hammond. "A rial of liquid Vermillion had somehow been shattered upon the envelope, and having dried, its appearance was that of a mass of paint When it fell upon the floor, the concussion shook off the dried stuff enough to reveal jour writing. I carefully cleansed It, and all became clear." "And now what do you Intend to do?" "You shall learn ere long." remarked Hammond, himself in doubt; for since morning many things had happened to perplex him. First, Elgin's restoration to speech and reason; secondly, the discovery of the mutual love of Catharine Elgin and James Greene; thirdly, the present situation of Catharine; fourthly, the tidings of John Harks; lastly, and most of all, the loss ef the will. A rapping at t-e door, and the entrance of a sneaking, cadaverous-looktag man, old but active, disturbed the I c conversation. "Stephen," said Hammond, as this person came in. "you are to watch with the sick man to-night Unbind him. Ton are too strong for him; but if he tries any tricks?" "I have this to tame him," said 4 Stephen, in a hoarse, growling voice, holding up a short club, suspended to his wrist by a stout cord. "Daniel told me about the row." "Tou will be careful Elgin," said Hammond, as Stephen unbound the un- D fortunate man. "Stephen was once a turnkey in the Tomb* and understands the business." "May God help and deliver me!" groaned the prisoner. "Behave yourself and you'll be all right." growled Stephen, aa he drew a blanket over the invalid. "If he asks for food or drink, Stephen," said Hammond, "furnish all he desires. But be careful to lock both doors after you between this room and the hall. I think he wants sleep more than anything else." Stephen growled an assent, and Lake, avoiding Elgin's eye of scorn, departed. CHAPTER VIL BROTIIEB AND SXSTOL Passing along the hall until he reached the white and gold chamber, Luke Hammond rapped at the door. Nancy Harker'a thin, vulture-like (ace appeared from within instantly. 1 "How la It with Miss Elgin'/" asked s Hammond. J "She's as stiff aa a gun-barrel," re- t plied Mrs. Harker. I "Where la Daniel?" a "Gone into the main house after bed- t din*, etc." "Has Miss Elgin attempted to con- t Terse with you. Mrs. Harker?" "Not a bit She draws back from me " when I go near her, as if 1 was a snake I or a spider." "When everything Is arranged," Mid i Hammond, "come to my Utrary. I'd c rather have her in tears or cast down * than so bold." t "Oh. we'll tame ber," said Mrs. Harker, with a grin that showed her t yellow fangs, and loud enough for poor 1 Kate to hear. "She's been looking ? around the room for a place to get out. but the windows are iron-barred and I the shutters nailed to the sill outside; and she can't escape by the door, for a when I am not bere old Fan will be. a Better send old Fan bere when you go I into tbe main bouse." "I will," said Hammond. And Nancy a Harker closed the door, while he con- 1 tlnuMl on to his library. u He glanced at the bronze clock on the o mantel-piece, and saw that It was half- i jwst twelve. c "A. great deal has happened since f nine," be muttered; "a feisat deal, and much more will certainly follow. Wbat g ahall I dor* ?i Tbe tirst thing be did was to drink a t glaw of brandy; then, remembering a Mrs. Marker's advice, be pulled at a o tiell-cord banging at the wall, and waitjkI lor an answer. <] The summons was answered after a c few minutes by the appearance of an a aged and much bent woman, evil-eyed. I with the face of a devil incaratte. b This was "old Fan." tbe balf crazy e cook, a hag who would bave sold ber soul. ?"< *? as It was. for a golden a dollar. 1< Tin wanted, am I?" said she. in a t! cracked voice, and rolling up sleeves . which covered long and muscular arms, n upon whicb the muscles were knotted and twisted, for old Fan was a giant- tl ess in strength. u "Yon are wanted." said Hamxocno. t( without looking at ber. "Some fresh deviltry, eh?" said Fan. i< "What Is it to jou whether it is j,oed n or bad?" mi id Hammond. looking at ber rapa.:lons eyes, which looked more o like a rat's than a humau being's. "Not a mite. Mr. Hammond, so long tl t I am paid Tor the doing," said Fan. ti "Bight," said Hammond, tossing ber a coin of gold, whkrh she canght in sf ber bird-like claws us It gleamed in b the air. "Hasten to the white and gold chamber. You will iind Mrs I ii ? - n.ai j Banter were, w. ^jjntfr1 iii t v ??>. SEE1 USER. I A, I Copynirht IBM, I I kr Eobkbt Boxmi 6ou> g S (ifl HffkS* i?wi) 9 "You may be bad. and you be," nuttered old Fan, aa she departed, 'but a better paymaster never lived." "Tbe sight of that old wretch," said iammond. when alone, "always cbills ay blood." He glanced towards tbe decanter of >randy, wbicb be bad left upon tbe able. "No. Ill drink no more to-night." aid be, turning away. "Tbe babit will >e my ruin if 1 do not crush it. I am teginning to drink brandy like water." He opened a drawer of bis desk, :ind earched for some papers?that wblcb re have said he had drawn up with ouch care during the day. and wbich te had slid into the drawer when Mrs. larker first appeared in this story. Tbe paper had disappeared! "Ha!" be exclaimed, springing from I rawer to drawer In vain search." "The rill I Intended to forge?drawn up in uy own handwriting, to be copied into lenry Elgin's, has been stolen! She ook It?that girl Catharine! She has, if course, secreted it with the genuine vill! A proof of my guilt If it shall * discovered! Why did she take it? )h! a woman's eyes are as quick as Ight?she noticed the beading?saw twas the body of a will, and thinking ill- Il~? l? A?l I'll k.TO tho II wuu, vmiicu u vu. * u u??v ?v ocret of tbe hiding-place or her life? ter lifer He stamped with rage, and was fnmog like a fury when Nancy Harker ntered without ceremony. "What's the matter now?" cried she. Toil are going mad or drank, Luke." ''Mad! Drank! I most have been >oth this day to leave doors and drawts open, and I not here." thundered lammond. "Yon are getting too fond of brandy, .uke," said Mrs. Harker, as her glance ell upon tbe decanter. "Mind tour business. Nancv Harker!" le cried, tossing a handful of papers ipon the table, and rummaging among bem. "Not only has Catharine Elgin ecreted the genuine will, but also one Irawn up by me, and which 1 meant o forge." "Mind my own business, Luke Hamoond!" sneered Nancy Harker, looking t him, as be fumed and fretted. "If did, what would become of you since ou have taken to that?" She tapped the decanter with her lean orefinger, "You take courage and strength from bat, and it will hang you yet. Luke." "Hang me!" repeated Hammond, reoiling from the prophecy. "I mean it. Luke. Things are getting to a snarl, and you'll work a rope mot under your left ear, If you don't ook sharp." Hammond grew pale, and stared at ict In silence. Nancy Harker nodded ber bead, as if t were set ou springs of wire. "If I do." said Hammond, sitting town and pushing back bis grizzly mir; "if I do, I'll bave your company, tancy Harker. But we must not quarcl; we are brother and sister, you ;now." "Hush!" whispered Nancy, and shakng her linger at bim. "If you let that ecret out what becomes of you and rour plans? I tell you, you drink too uuch, Luke. No one can suspect that am your sister unless you, like a fool, ct the suspicion afoot Tbe first thing o be done now Is to find tbe lost will." "Rlgbt," said' Hammond. "Do you hink she concealed it in this room?" "No." said Nancy, shaking her bead. 't tlilnlr tha itnm ciipruliul It in h?r rnntii a the front." "But 1 bad the will in my band tbe natant be/ore I went to tbe crimsou hamber," said Hammond, "and she raa there herself not live minute* after ay arrival there." "She had time to come here, to find be package, to run back to ber room, lide it, and then follow you," said fancy. "We must search instantly," said lammond, springing to his feet He lighted two lamps, gave one to bis ister, for such Nancy Harker was, ind with the other led tbe way to tate's late room. In going thither It was necessary to iscend a short flight of stairs, and as iammond placed bis band on tbe ictvel-post of the banisters at tbe foot if the flight the carved top-piece of be post slipped ofT in bis grasp and aused him to stumble and bruise his ace. "Confound that post!" said be. refining his feet and clapping tbe top tack upon it "It has played me that rick twice. Go into that closet there nd bring me a hammer and a couple f large nails." Nancy Harker did so. and Hammond [rove tbe long, strong nails into the ap of tbe oewel-post which was large - J u .lAW.. An.i IIU uuilun, laauruius 11 uvnu uiiiu uuu ut "That will bold 4111 doomsday," said e. as be finished tbe work and n scrotid tbe stairs, followed by Nancy. Tbe evil pair entered Kate's rooiu nd searched it from floor to ceiling, saving nothing undone that might give bem success. "It ianot here," said Hammond, after lore than an hour's bard labor. be eastern wing." said Nancy, as tbey escended tbe stuirs on their way back I t> ?be library. "Tbe ball is aa bare of crack or erev e aB tbe sole of my boot," aald Hamlond. "Sbe may bare tossed it into aome ne of tbe rooma," said Nancy. I "Erery door ia locked on each aide of he ball." replied Hammond. "But we rill aearcb it." Tbey did. and found nothing. Tbey tared at each other in surprise, and oth noticed a mutual paleneaa. "Nancy," whispered Hammond, "this i a serious matter." "It is." said sb<\ In the same tone. v ; i nimifAV -vwn OTT\1T? A V and feeling more uneasy than she eared to tell. "Suspicion once fastened on us," continued Hammond, "for your name Is , mentioned iu the spurious will, and : how long will it be before the detec- i tive police are on our track?" "Suspicion does exist. Luke." said j Nancy. "And in tbe mind of n man j whom you underrate infinitely." "You mean James Greene, the car- J penter," said Hammond. "No. I do not ; underrate him. He has a bold bean, a i strong anxi aud a slirewd brain. We j must prepare to meet him. Nancy. So j again to my library that wo may con- | cert some plan to baffle him." Hammond first rapped at the door of i | the Crimson Chamber and Stephen j opened it from within. "How is be?" asked Hammond. "See for yourself." sai< Stephen, as | be threw the door back upon its hinges. Hammond entered with soft, cat-like j tread, and gazed upon the invalid. Mr. | Elgin was sleeping as calmly as a rosy, healthy child, and bis features, though I thin and pale, wore a noble dignity in j their repose that Hammond could not j but admire. "I cannot sleep like that," muttered Hammond turning away. Stephen heard the words and whispered: "I've seen men in prison cells asleep that way. when the hangman couldn't catch a wink; the night before they I were to die." "Die!" said Hammond, shuddering. ' "Do you think he is going to die?" "Not yet," said Stephen. "And them I spoke of had a look around the mouth that Henry Elgin can never haTe?for he's never done a murder. He's-?" "Silence." said Hammond, sternly; for the man's words suggested unpleasant memories, "ou speak too loud. He begins to mutter in his sleep." Hammond held his ear near the pale and moving lips and caught these words: "Poor Kate! what will become of tlite!" j "He dreams of his child." thought J Hammond; and then with Nancy, who | bad followed him, left the Crimson j Chamber. Before the door of the Imprisoned. Kate they halted again, and old Fan answered the gentle tapping of HamI mond's knuckles. "How is she? Does she sleep?" he asked. Old Fan made no reply, bnt swung the door wide open. Kate was still sitting in the armchair and her eyes of fire and scorn as she recognized Hammon peering in made I him shrink and quail. "8he doea not sleep?she plans," he muttered, as he turncti quickly away. "Watch her well. Fan." "Prop my eyelids with gold and they'll never blink nor wink," croaked the old bag, with a grimace that laid bare her toothless gums. "Right." said Hammond, and with Nancy at his heels be strode on to bis library, for there he loved best to plot and scheme. CHAPTER VIII. A TRAP FOB JAMES GREENE. "And now," said Hammond, as be and Nancy extinguished their lamp* and s&t down under the gaslight, "to talk about James Greene." "You were an idiot to engage bim to repair that desk," said Nancy. "Pish!" said Luke. "I did not know that he was the Intended belr of Henry Elgin; nor did I know that he and Catbarlne bad ever met before. You are a woman, Nancy, and should have found it out long ago." He glanced toward the brandy de| canter, but Nancy pushed It beyond bis reach. "Catharine Elgin hated me from bead to heel," said Nancy, with a sour look, "from the very day I entered this house. And let me tell you. Luke, that when one woman hates another she is i very careful what she says and does in her presence." "The repairing of that unlucky desk," said Hammond, after a pause, "has caused all this trouble. Kate had forgotten aU about the groaning she had heard, when rooming in this part of the house, and if James Greene bad not .lon.an/,.1 ihu f*fl ft {t iftTl vllo trnlllil I UUiUQ^VU iUV |/u? M%*VM| WHV ?W sleeping now in her own rooin. the genuine will would have been mine or destroyed?for 1 meant to destroy it?and James Greene were easily disposed of." "It is fatality," said Nancy. "We must renew our search for the will by daylight." To be continued. Her Shrimp Salad. A very young and very inexperienced matron?a well-known society woman of this borough?recently undertook to assume the entire management, wen ; to the smallest detail, of her household affairs, and her directions to the serv ' ? ?! ? to fliMin in vrltinff. auia a?c wm \ ^ vm ?w ......?n. A few days ago. wishiug to have some dainty dish lor luncbeou, she thought a nice shrimp salad would be the thing, and accordingly wrote 1'-*: astructions to the cook to prepare salad and for the purpose to order i u tbe market man "one small sbri ." The story leaked out. and it will be many days before she will be able to look into the eyes of any of her friends without seeing tbe small shrimp twiukling tbereisi. ? New York Times. Fmre on Mbipboard. Among the steerage passengers on the German steamer Breslau, which arrived from Bremen were 182 Jews from Russia. They were accompanied to Bremen by a rabbi wbo arranged with the steamship compauy uod Captain Feyer that the party should receive kosher meat and food during the voyage. Two of the Jewish faith daily inspected the food. The Captain also set apart a room for religious worship on Saturday. Hundreds of the Jews in Russia are now coming to America on every immigrant ship, but the Breslau is the first vessel that has offered the facilities called for by their religion.?Bnltiimore ^ mericain. Hoc ton's Buijr Station. Tne number of regular trainr entering and leaving the South sta ion at Boston on week-days uow nggr?gutes 794 each day. This Is believed to be tbe largest record of tbe kind In the United States, says tbe Ballroad Gazette. Tbe pine manufacturer mast Stick pretty close to business. a qmbiun run ouhi^ai AN ELOQUENT DISCOURSE ENTlTLlD THE END OF TIME.fb? KfT. Dr. David J. Rnrrfll UlwoartM IaitrneUwIf on ? Them* That tn Lm C)o?|o?nt Mouth* Ml(ht Seem Thread* | bare? Economize Fragment* of Time. I New York City.?The Rev. Dr. David James Burreii, pastor of the Marble Collegiate Church, Fifth avenue and Twentyninth street. preached on "The End of Time." He took hi* text from Revelation* x: 5 and 6: "And the anpcl which 1 mw stand upon tbe Ma and upon the earth I lifted up his hand to heaven, and swart by Him that liveth forever and ever, who j created heaven, and the things that therein | are, and tbe earth, and the things that | therein are. ind the sea, and the tilings j which are therein, that there should U1 i time no longer." | Our theme is a trifle threadbare, but perhaps none the less profitable on that ac; count. It is an easy matter to make a | homily on tim?. but not all homiiie* are as ! much to tbe point as that of tbe court jesI ter Jacques: ^ I "Good morrow, fool," quoth I. "No, sir," quoth be; "Call me not fool till heaven batb sent mc fortune." And then he drcrr a dial from his poke, And. looking on it with lack-luster eye. " 1- "T? im a>j.|a?L'. Payi very wifci;, * v mu w v.wn, Thus may we ee,"' quoth he, "how th? world wags; Tilt hut an hour ago since it was nine; And after one hour more 'twill be eleven; And to. from hour to hour, we ripe and ip*. And then, from hour to hour, we rot and rot; And thereby hangs a tale." Let this melancholy "tale" engage us foi a while. The issue* of interminable aeon< may depend upon the attention we give tc the circling hands on the dial. lie whe 1?? ?K? lpt?.in? nf time ia readi to met the responsibilities of eternity. But what is time? "Time is money," they say. So far so good, if we would real ite it. A man went into Benjamin Frank lin's book store and inquired the price ol a volume. "One dollar," was the clerk'i answer. "Call your employer," said th< would-be purchaser. When Franklin wai asked the price of the volume he answered "One dollar and a quarter." "Why, youi clerk asked only a dollar." "To be sure but you called me from my printing pre* and 1 am charging yoa for my time. Th< man argued and remonstrated in vain Presently he uid. "Now, Mr. Franklin really what is your lowest figure for thii book?" "One dollar and a half." "Pre posterous! You only atktd me a dollai and a quarter." "Yes. but my time is val uable, and every minute sends the boot up." This was sound philosophy and gooc business. If our days and hours were a! marked with a price in plain figures w< should probably he less profligate of them We have no iuch scruple about wastinf time as me would ba> e in throwing gold carles into the sea. Puf tim* im mi>? than mmfv It is "th? stuff that life i* made of." it stand* foi privilege, opportunity. re?non*ibility, iuds jrent, heaven or hell. You may throw away a dollar and earn another, but nr two momenta overlap. The laat one said farewell forever: the next i?~already gone! Time ia a talent, a talent of gold stamped with the image tnd superscription of the King. God made it. a* He made the trec? and mcuntains, and He owns it. He bai entrusted it to us, to be p'lt at usury fm Him. "Will a man rob Ood?_ Yet ye havt robbed Me, saith the Lord of hosts." Thr misappropriation or misuse of days and hours ana moments is as really dishonest as tbe tapping of an employer's till. Thii [ is a serious matter, and gives us sufficient food for thought, if our question were gushed no further. But we cannot atop | I asked an aged man with hoary hairs. Wrinkled and curved with many worldly care-?, | "Time is the warp of life," he said. "O tell The young, the fair, the brave to use it well." I asked the mighty angel and ailrery spheres, j Those bright chronometers of passing years; They answered, "Time is but a meteor's glare," And bade me for eternity prepare. I asked the mighty angel who shall stand One foot on sea. the other on the land; "Mortal," he cried, "the mystery is o'er; I Time wan. time is, but time shall be no moie!" A step further brings us to the inquiry, What is time for? or to what end has this I momentous trust been reposed in us? Let it be understood that time is not for us to livt! in. We are not ephemera; we live forever. Time is given us for preparation. Th's is only the antechamber of lite, where we stand waiting until the door opens and we pass ?n. Death is the angel that openn the door. The only reason why we fear J death is because we know that as rime | leaves ua eternity anas us. iseam enu? probation. We cross the line with our characters chrystaiixed: "He that is unjust, let bim be unjust still: he that is holy, let him be holv still." These are our schooldays; death is "commencement." Here we serve an apprenticeship; death is going to work. The ->ther day a young newspaper reporter said to me, on my refusing an interview: 'I wish you would help me along. I'm on probation, and whether I get an engag?ment or not depends upon my success in thii sort of thing." I wonder howtonic of the people who nre now wastfag their probation can expert to he taken into service in the kingdom of God. What can they do? Let thr gre;?t*Employer ask them. "What can you do?" How*will it eem to answer, "I can sell dress goods; 1 can lead the german; I can make money or spend it; I can drive a bargain; I can sail a schx>ner or run an engine; I can 'ref mom mnlfA mnnot* V'' tri?C UIIU ClllCliaill, M ' nil uium? ; . Them? may be good as far as they go, hut. in all soberness, how far do they go as a preparation for the tasks of heaven? Do you know, friend, how to comfort the grii-f tricktn and rescue the wandering? llowto minister to the need of tbe wounded traveler on the Jericho road? How to give the cup of cold water to one of God's little ones? How to point a penitent sinner to the lamb of God? How to spe.nk the praise; of the One altogether lovely? How to sing ''Holy, Holy. Holy, Lord God Almighty?" If not, what a bewildering sort of place heaven would be to you! What are you fit for? Heaven is no place for unskil ed labor. What can you do? Time is given you for this very purpose, to get ready for the things further on. But how much time have we? Enough; no more, no less. It is distributed "to every one according to his several ability. A short life is long enough, and the longest life is short enough for wh-it must be done :n it." Seneca said. ' W; complain rs.C (ka skArlnasd ftf tim? nnrl va?f U'P linVp mo:* than wc know what to do with. Our live* arc apent in doing nothing at all. nothing lo the purpose or nothing thnt we ought to da. We are ever complaining that our day? are few and acting as if they were without end." Wt have time enough for work. An "eight-hour day" is a purely artificial thing. God never made it. "Are there now twelve hours in the day?" God's day in which "man goetli to his work" is from morning until evening, and there is not too much of it. We have time enough for ncreation. No ma.i is ?t liberty to overwork or to work without relaxing. "All work and no play" makes Jack not only a dull but an unprofitable boy. No buninin* should ever be so absorbing a* to crowd out other thing* that contribute to the health and symmetry of life. More men die of a "quick lunch" thin of hunger. Not a tew famish on the husks of hurried devotion. "Too busy, fbo busy!" and the trumpet sounds! We have time enough for physical rest. The night is for sleep, "tired nature's tweet restorer, balmy sleep." Nor is the night too long, though many people act at if they thought it so. We have time enough for devotion. All the days are God's day*, but of one it is written. "The Lord blewcd the Sabbath day and hallowed it." I hare known a man to curtail his rest six nights in th?* we?k and recuperate on Sunday. This it wtkki*iiv ri/wl Tkl? ntarltf nn<l tii* dikrial k have separate u??p. Chri?t mid. "The Sabbath wa? macie for man." It was mart* to .ribsnve our bigbut intertill as children of Cod. It if not enough that we should close the shop; we must open the windows of our soul* toward God. The Sabbath it a "hallowed" or holy dav. The Lord knew how busy we would be on the secular days ?10 busy that we are likely to Rive little or no thought to spiritual things? wherefore He *aid. "1 will give them a day for thrir souls; when they may come np into th?' mountain* and bieathe the clear air ' with Me " .So He ha* gi\en us time divided and adju?.eil to our need*, and it behoove* us to make an economic! use of it. .Some peoole arc always in haste; other* arc alwavs J>ehind time. It was a wise saying of Fiavel\ "To come before the opportunity is to come before the bird is hatched: to 1 com? after the opportanitv is to come aftei tl-e bird is flown."' Kverv day. ever* ho-.ir. ever* moment strikes its own balante. Postponement is profligacy. Procn?rtif afion is a spendthrift a* well as th>?f. It was I?rd Chesterfield, one of the worldliest of men. who wrote to his son. "Never put off until to-morrow what you can do to-day." Hut the worst of all capital crimes is ? ?: ? -ru .IIIIJ* iiliiv. A i<?r p?* ?<n. a0 significant of murder moit foul. The 1 youth who *eeka to quiet memory and an 1 uneasy conscience by plunging into dissipa* tion; the old social campaigner who wan* derc about with a worn-out stomach and a wizened heart in search of pastures new; the devotee of fashion, whose id!e dajr? are spent in recovering from wor?e than idle n>ghts?these all are chronocides, and thev are moral suicides as well. Oh. the waste, the frightful, irrevocable waste! Dreaming emptv dreams, building > castles in the air. fighting specters and , windmills, entertaining vain regrets and foolish hopes, brooding on old grudges, tearing characters to tatters over the tea [ cups, borrowing trouble, writing hooks that never will he published nor ought to | be. groaning over imaginary aches and pains, crossing bridges before we come to them?what a large part of life these fill? And every moment lost this wav is lost to I sell culture, tone ro numanuy, oicucu kuui . 1 the service of Ood. The world is full of commonplace people who have squandered their birthright and '< fallen short of all the large oonsibilities of ! their beinp through the misuse of time. | Thev sit tilted hack in their chain and j twiddling their tbumba while Waterloo is ; being fought, and tbey wake up and begin j to fret when nothing ia going on. They , never catch up with them wive*. The 1 "more convenient season" leads them a i tern chase year in and year out. One of the valuable secret* ot success ia knowing bow tot economize the fragments of tine. An hour seems a little matter, bat you can read twenty quarto pages in an hour, and an hour a (lay for four years would carry you through the Encyclopaedia Britannica. Ten minqtes are hardly worth considering, yet Longfellow in his yonth translated Dante's "Inferno" in the ten j minutes day after day. while be waited for his coffee to boil. "Gather un the frag* ' [ me its that nothing be lost." While I'ro- I I i * .1 t ? f * irwwr miu'iicii wat m cimmpr- ui u uivipiuu > ' during the Civil War he mid to a young ' - officer: "You excuse yourself on the ground 1 that you are onlr a few minutes late. Sir, 1 I I have kern in the habit of calculating the ' ' value of a millionth part of a second!" It is the loss of time, a little here and a little ! f there, that make* life a failure and eternity | ' an irremediable disappointment. Wili there be an end of time? Aye, | ' when eternity begins. The life beyond is ' ! unconditioned by the falling sand* of the ! | hour glass. At the sounding of the sev* ! enth trumpet John caw an angel arrayed > ' in msiesty, with one foot planted on the I sea and tnc other on the land, who pro- i 1 claimed the end of the present cycle, | 1 "There shall be time no longer!" But to , ' all intents and parpo.?es death marks the ! end of time for everv man. Probation is i ' over, once for all. The present probation i 1 would, indeed, be a farce, if there were ' ; another after it. The fabric is lifted from * the loom and there is no gathering Up its j * loo?e onds. School is out and life begins, j ' Wherefore, whatsoever thy hand findeth i 1 to do. do it with thy might, and do it here ' and now: for there is no work, nor device. ! nor knowledge, nor wisdom on the grave | ' wnitber thou goest. It in a true Mving of i Emerson's. "No man ha* learned any- I thing rightly until he know* that every ! ; day in doomsday," for every day and erery I hour ha* the issues of eternity wrapped up ! in it. In hoe momento pendit cternitn*. j The time to will, to choose, to act ia now. j If sin ir to b* repented of. repent now. If ; Christ is to be accepted, accept Him now. j Now ia the accepted time and to-day if the | i day of Miration. "The golden oportunity , i* never offered twice: seize thou the hour when fortune smiles and duty points the way." Ood'i Opportunity. Some one has Mid that "each human lif? 1 i ia another opportunity for God to displ.iy | His grace and power." So it is and the j thought will grow upon you as you medi| tate upon it. Just think. "I am God's op- ! portunity!" Isn't it wonderful! Isn't it j I glorious: When we look it others whoin i God has richly blessed and honored in *?r- ! rice we can see how it is. but do we ever think of ourselves as God's opportunity ' Everr one that respond* to God's call, 1 "O ->?' flnA r. nlr.ni in I h? I vufire. ?> vo x. .. ?.Sv ? .... world. Every one who obeys God'? <oin- i mand, "Go!" assists God in gaining a lnrg- . i er place in the heart* of men. Every re- I generated heart and life is a new garden in which God plants Hia seed* of love and grace; a fountain out of which How constant stream* of healing power. Take it home and say to vourself. I am GoJ'? <opportunity." Be that, and your life will be- j come unutterably grand, and your experience unspeakably sweet. ? I're*by;erian Journal. To Find Happiness. No man shall ever Hud happiness whil* seeking it for himself. The self-centred man cannot be liapp]k. He may find gold, lie may acquire Knowieugc. ne mny aimtvc fame, he may ha\*e pleasure in the world, but all the*c cannot pour one ray of genuine bliss into a self-centred soul. Let one wlo is unhappy do what he can to relieve 1 the so tows of others, and hi* own sorrow j will he turned into jay. Let the burdened soul do what he can to bear the burdens of others, and his own burdens shall become light as air. Let hint whom life is bitter begin to do what he can to sweeten the live* of others, and his own life will^ become sweeter still. Let him who* life is narrow do what he can to enlarge the liv??s of others, and his own life will become broad and deep and rich. "Give, and it shall be given unto you; good measure, pressed down, and shaken together and running over."?Nashville Christian Advocate. Making Others Happy. When you rise in the morning form k resolution to make the day a happy one to a fellow creature. It is easily done: a leftoff garment to the man who needs it. a kind word to the sorrowful, ay encouraging expression to the striving?trifles in themselves liiht as air?will do at least for the twenty-four hours. .And if you are I ? -I ? .1 ..nnn it it will tfl|) W 11, I V 1,11 vuuiik ui|n:iui ujjuii u, .v ..... ?v.. ? are old, and if yon arc old. ret as-ured it will send yoj gently and happily down the stream of time to eternity. By the mott simple arithmetical mm look at the result. If you *cnd one person. only one. happily through each day. that is 365 in the course **i the year. And supposing you live forty year* only after you commence that course of medicine, you hive made 14.600 being* happy, at all event* for a time.?Sydney Smith. Happiness m Small Matter. Happiness in a small matter. It i* \ mere incident in life. It largely depend* as the word itself suggest* on what hap|H>n* to <i man in his course of duty or of service. I? may affect hi* feeling* hour bv hour, but it i* no measure of his character or real being- Joy. or blessedness. is. however, more of a matter than is happiness. Our fellow man may affect our happiness. (>od givci us joy. Jilc**cdne?s is (mmI's crowning gift, tfv being near to <Jod we can have joy and find blessedness, whether happiness be our* or not. Therefore let us pray God for joy and blessedness, regardless of whether happiness i*. or is uot, our*. The Brand of Drink. Sin nets iU seal upon me num.m lace distinctively aa righteousness, say* the L'nioi. Kigiial. An article in a New OrIrana pa|>er states the fact that experienced barkeepers can tell what a man drink i bv the peculiar discoloration of hia skin. 1'here m. it appear*, a livery of whisky, of brandy, beer, absinthe, each on* doing lie deadly work with strict individuality. In no little corner of the creation is law inoperative, whether it be the law of life ox tlic la.v of sm aod death. THE BELIGIOUS LIFE T READING FOR THE QUIET HOUR IN WHEN THE SOUL INVITES ITSELF, i ? ? I. Foam: W? Thank Thtf, O God ! > F.t?b Through So Common a Thins Brand j Jmuh la Abla to Manifest Hlmaelf? LItIdi For Others. We thank Thcc, 0 Father, for all that is f< bright? , The gleam of the day and the stars of th' I" night; ! Vl The flo*erx of our youth and the fruit* of ?j our prime . ?| And blessines that march down the path- c' way of tune. "} I }? We thank Thee, 0 Father, for all thai is i drear? : " The sob of the tempest, the flow of the , tear; , For never in blindness and never in pa<n J >c Thy mercy permitted a sorrow or pain. | J We thank Thee, 0 Father of all, for thtf j power # ' Of aiding each other in life's darkest hour; I 11 The generous heart and the bountiful hand, 1" And all the soul-help that &ad souls under- | f" atanr) r a W C ! d. We thank Thee, 0 Father, for daft yet to ct be? I . For hone* that our future will call u? to I _ Thee; * For all our eternity form, through Thy love. P! One thanksgiving day in the mansiona I above I I" -Will Carleton. ! m -Jem* lb? LI vine Bread. Ti? the heavenly graciou?ne?? of Je*u? ti that He Hid not despite the sordid souls, ?t an we perhaps should have done, who followed Him in throngs that day merely for tt the loaves and fishes. He knew that they, ce poor thing*, dwelt in bodie* clamoring *a daily f.?r the want* that were ill-supplied. t)i He ?aw their need, though but of the phy tt sical. And H* stooped to reach and save J< them juit an He ban had to stoop to the b? lowest and weakest in you and me in or- Si der to grt us to come to Him. til Even though it be tbrourh so common a in thing an bread Jesus is able to manifest tt Himself. Higher things do not appeal to so them. Bread they can understand. It ia ni neither too high nor too great for their s>daily .ise. Therefore about bread will Jesus speak to them. He gave them bread li' yesterday in plenty and without price, w, For that thev are the more ready to listen hi to Hiji to-day. He says He is bread. *c Does He mean He will be like that to Pj them, nourishing, refreshing, revivifying, di becoming a part of their own selves as i* di bread when taken un by their physical w< system, always with them, to be partaken jo 01? Ia that what He means? Dimly they th begin to pcrreive and feebly to feel after pr the truth. Their minds go back to their j at tradit ons?their fathers in the wilderness, j til Can it be that more manna is to fall for > them? Ah! that would be well?to have ! Hi no more care for the morrow in things phv- j he iimI?tinfe?* th?rp was thf> trouble of rath- i dr erin* it ud. ' to Bnt nuickly He *how* them it i? not >t that. He remind* them that those father* te are dead. The bread in the wilderness did -r not keen them alive forever. But the true ? bread that He will give?wonder of won- *P ders?if they shall eat it thev slnll live for- K> ever! They are reached and understand at last and ciy out *a?erlv. "Lord, evermore cc give a* this bread." all shame for the low or motive which brought them to Him lost in thi ir eageme** to accent the jrreat gift. ri .1 e*js is willing to be to us the aupplv jp. of out commonest dailv need. Thia bread Ti must be taken a* a gift, for it cannot be P* bojirht. An bread may lie on our tablet * freelv and yet do ua no good because we b> have no denire to eat it. to this Bread of th Heaven can not lourish u? unlets we take it into our very being. ** Marcus Pod* sav?: "The figure of eating reminds us that the acceptance of w Plirit4 ia an ns?t wkirk man mnaf /)/% D1 for himself. No other to>an can eat for me. It also remindiTus that as the food ** we eat is distributed. without oar own be will or supervision. to every part of the t0 bodv. giving light to the e.re and strength to the arm, ranking bone or akin in one place, nerve or blood vessel in another. so, *J] if onljr %re make Christ our own. the life * ' that u in Him suffices for all the require- ! ments of human nature and hqman duty. u A noor Indian, too proud to ask for food. Pu was found in a starving condition when aid ' was almo?t too late. But the saddest cart ta of his suffering was that about his neck he wore a coin, a testimonial of brave serv- be ices rendered to one hich in anthoritv dur- ne ing a time of war, which, had it been pre- _ sented to the Hovernment, would hnve entitled him to freclv receive all supplies he ^ could p<>?sibly nee<l. This figure of eating has many lessons 11 for us. Above all. it reminds us of the "J1 poor anpetite we have for ?niritual nour* ishment. How thoronjhlv by this process J? of enfin? does the healthv'body extract f" from its foo?!? every particle of real nutri- j jlf ment. B" this procr^s the food is made *o yield all *hnt it contain* of nourishing sub- w! stance. But how f.T-i? this from representinjr our treatment of Christ. How much is 5JJ thee in Him that it fitted tn yield comfort ?2 and hope, and yet to u? it yields none. How much that should fill us with a war- j ance of God's love. ret how fearfully* w#? | Jive. How mti??h to make tin admire self- ?* sacrifice and fill u? nith earnest purpose to lire for others. and ret how litMe of thin becomes in rery deed our life. God see* in i *? Him all that can make us complete, all , that, can fill and gladden and snffic* the *j> oi'l. and yet how hare and troubled and }n defeated do we live.?New York Mail and *jn Express. *k Po Not Block Another's Pro*rrM. ^ A trolley car passenger was looking at a <!n raawive steel structure rapidly nearing fa completion on the most crowded thorough- pr fore of a citv. "That's a wonderful build- th ins!" remarked the car conductor, noticing the passenger's interest. "ft is. indeed. tj, answered the latter, thinkinir the reference was to the magnitude and the rapidity of jtj the work. "\es. it's a wonderful build* t)| ing,'' went on the conductor?"the most wonderful I've ever wen. Why, they've been building that now for three month*, ami they've never once blocked the car*!" M:; Henry Clav Trumbull says: "The thought ^ underlying that keen observation might a>1 we:l be brought to l>ear on all our activities, ft is this?:>e careful lest your work cj, interferes with others as it progresses. Is m( the work you are manping out for yourself to-day. to-morrow, this winter, going to pj, blo-k the tracks for other faithful toilers? Wivm vmi tnL-?>n Mvprv rwx?ili!<> nmiulinn to prevent such a blockade? Jf'not. your work will fail at an important point." So Ilatlnra* With To-Morrnw. ^ pa To morrow you have no business with, cei You steal if you touch to-morrow. It i? ,*r< God's. Every dnv ha* in it enough to kce;- ne any man occupied without concerning him- ru self with the things beyond.?Henry Ward tw Bee c her. wc Tli Troth In Nutll ( omptu. th< To he nmnlv and mannerly are synony-. nr' mou*.?United Presbyterian. ' Have a heart that never harden*, a tem* '! ' per that never tire* and a touch that never * " hurts.?Charles Dickens. Your affliction i* very great, but there is "u a corresponding greatness in your comfort- *"* cr.?George Bovven. thl "Thank God that He who alone can know our innermost longing* and aspiration* for the better life i* al?o the one who \ can help us .n the strugde." of It I ware you I would not worrv. .lust Cit nn vour mind to do lietter when you mjj tfit an >ther chance. ami be content with for that.?Beatrice llurradeu. oc< Modrl For#?t In X ehuM-tt*. tac The Sharon Biological Olmervatory, ? 1,01 KiimmCT school for teacher* at Sharon, Maw., will experiment in forotry on a tract of 3?K) icm of woodland. which it 1 purpose* making into a model forest. A|>- tht plication lis* been made to (tie Bureau of Afi Forestry for a working plan.^ The director vai of the school, I)r. <Jeorge \V. Field, if an cor instructor in the Massachusetts Institute in of Technology. He thr tioi Naval Slwnilh of Nation*. On the ?t.i (Ircat Britain number* .*>40 w.ir*hi|>* <>f all ciawe*. France 37(1. Hum.t j 220. Germany 205. Italy 200, Japan 161 and ^ the United Statw. 109 vci HE SUNDAY SCHOOL I ITERNATIONAL LESSON COMMENT* FOR MARCH 29. .? W V view of tlM Ihnm For tht rtfH I Qwrtar *f t h? Year?Read I C*r, SIM*. I l-lo?Uoldon Text, Matt. utUI., Mm B Th? timurj. | Introduction.?The leaaont this quarter >vrr portion# of Paul'i second and third < iMionary journey*. Although great op- I nition net him at nearly every place ha I -iud, yet the goapel took a deep boldl J 'i the hearta of the people, and in maay I he leading cities of the world gooa I lurches were e*tul>ii><hed. Daiiflc MB+CZM is?ionary journey* Paul not onhr preached. J ic gosjwl in all the cities he viated. bat. . ? labored with his hands to support hia? Nummary.?Lesson I. ?Topic: Suffering >r Christ. Place: Philippi. Paul on Ik3- <? cond missionary journey visits Philippi. 1 city of Macedonia. They art foliowea J y a fortune teller; Paul was grieved; I >rcfluudcd the spirit to cone out of hers J aul and Silas arrested; a mob mm up? j >e misnionaries were beaten; east into- j nson; inianigm mey prayea ana wag i raises; a great earthquake; the doors ere opened and banda looaod; the jaikr rew hi* sword: Paul uvea him: tht jailor inverted; Paul and Silaa cared for. II. Topie: Paul's love and carc for tho lurch. The epistle to tho Philipniaaaas written by Paul, from Rome, ia A. D. 5, I. and sent by Bpaphroditos. Paul show*, is great love for tbe taint#; calls tbefltf is joy and crown; urges them to stand .fit; to belp the women wbo labored with m; to always rejoicc; to bo moderate: t?- vy<J ray and give thanks: deeiree that they, J 1 ay be kept through Christ; exhorta then* * 1 think on ho!v thins*: thanks them lot ' ic gilt sent: tcilt of !? contentment and rength in Christ. III. Topic: Paul proving that Jam hh le Christ. Paul and hia companions, ex? pt Luke, leave Philippi and go to The** Ionic*. Paul entered the synagogue and ic three Sabbath days reasoned with ' > lem out of the Scripture*, proving that I ?*us was the Christ. Some of the Jews- " Sieved and joined themselves to Paul and. las. but of the Gentiles, "a great multide" became Christians. The unbelterg Jews gathered a mob, set th? city in t uproar and assaulted the houte of Jir in. Paul and Silas wera sent to Berea by gbt, and at once began to preach hi the iiaeogue in that city. IV. Topic: The church exhorted to holy nng. The letter to tha Thessalonian* .m written by 1'aul w A. D. 02. TMf id mijundfintood Pure teaching on tat J eond coining of Christ. In this lessoa J aul fives them virions exhortations and J rections. They are told to admeniuh the I sorderly; to encourage and support the * I cak; to always do good: to constantly reice, pray ana give thanks; not to quench' le Spirit or despise prophesying*; toove all things; to hold last the good, but wtain from evil; they are called to eare sanctifiration. V. Topic: The superiority of the trua* , od over the gods of the heathen. Paul iving left Be res goes to Athena; ad* esses the philosophers on Man' Hill;' mmends them for being religious; calls' tention to an altar to an unknown God;] 11? them of the God of heaven, whocated all things; formerly ignorance pea* tiled, but now all men should repeat;* ^ *ak* of the judgment and resurrectioA;. ue mocked; a few believed. VI. Tome: Paul's strufgfea sad suea*es in Corinth. Paul was in Corinth! >e year and six months, from A. D. S3 54. He met Aquila and Priscilla; aboda ith them; worked at his trade; reasoned; tbe synagogue; was joined by Silas and* , mothy; preached Christ: the Jews blaaicmed; Paul turned to tne Gentiles: had great spiritual conflict; waa comforted' r a vision; Crispus and many Coria-' . ians believed. 1 VII. Topic: Tbe duty of Christiaas wittf epect to weak consciences. Tbe epistkt a tt)e L'onnthian* vu written by rui; w odd Ephcsu*. in A. D. 37. Various per- JH exing questions arose in the Corinthian^ HB urch. There was a difference of opiniea' to whether meat offered to idols shoald;j^H eaten. Paul urses tho?-e who are strongrMH guard the consciences of the week. :flH VIII. Topic: The excellencies of bre.'lKa jvc is superior to gift*. Eloquence, lowlcdge, generosity, self-denial ? tbeserH I amount to nothing without lor*. Lovr V the principal thing. It suffereth long; kind; envieth not; raunteth not; is not iffed up; behaves properly: is unselfish; not provoked; does not think or medd te upon evil; rejoiceth not in unright^ I usness; rejoiceth in the truth; beareth^ H lieveth. hopcth and endureth all things; rer faileth. jflg IX. Topic: Establishing the chureb aft>hcsu?. Apollo* arrives at Ephcsus; be- MB n to speak boldly; was instructed in tte* iv of God more perfectly by Aquila and ^ -ifciila; departed to Corinth; was com ended by the brethren, fiwl having J irted on his third missionary journey M ached Ephesas; asked the dimples if. \ ev hsd received.the Holy Ghost; they. m A not; Paul laid his hands upon then; e Holy Ghojt came on them; they spaka- n th t.>ngues and prophesied. K X. Topic: The superiority of the Chris- fl in religion. Paui preached the gospef Idly in the rvusgoguc for three months^ S ten the unbelievmgJews reviled Chria- ? imty pub-itjy and Pkul withdrew from M c *ynajrogue and preached in the school ^Hkj Tvrannu.<*. Paul tvrtmght many mira-^^l ?s in Enhesos and many were healed of Mn| eir diseases. Certain vagabonds Jew light to imitate Paul and cast out evilSH iritt, and the man in whom the evil^^l irit vu leaped on them and wounded HKj em. Mary who practiced sleight of^H| ml burned their booka. XI. Topic: Quieting a tnmnlt. The mis* IH curies w ore again facing a mob. See 2 I ?r. 1: 8*10. Di'metnurf causcd a tumult; eta red their craft, or business, was i*HHj njrer of being brought into disrepute be- ^H| use Pad! and his companion! had bee* Hn caching against Diana, the goddes* of <?, Kphcsians. Paul's companions werw VII i^cd and mi^fhwe been killed had not VH e town clerk *teppi*i""in and quieted the ob. His speech was full"of tact and abil-^HS 7 and shown a decided leaning towan r missionaries. XII. Topic: Palration through failhflffl ie epittie to the Ephesiana van Wtittei^HH Paul while und<*r bond* at Rorne.C i- written to conrirm and strengthen t'uB licvcw in the go*nel. In thia lc?aon ioitlr sneak* of the fact that they had^BXSI t-n dead in sin* and were by nature tht^HH ildrvn of wrath, but through the love^^^H pre* and gritce of Clod they had bee^^MR uickened" and made :<? ^it'in hrnrenly^^H toe* with Christ. Thia waa not of them*IHK lve? or by work*, but throufh faith Larg* Artificial RnklN. SH At a reccnt meeting of the Academy of H| iencea in Paria there waa j:re.*entfd a per by A. Verneuil. describing hi* *ue> u? in making artificial rubiea, weighing >m twelve to fifteen carat* each, by w procpn* of fusing aluminum. Each HB by .it the close ot' the process split* in o. forming half spheres, which can ba |HS ?rked by lapidanes like natural atigie*. BHaj ie c >lor i* bne. and lapidaries to whoa ^HE nr have tieen submitted aav that these I tlficial getns have tke same Lirdneaa and se the mrii' polish as naturarrubies. Un? Wflfl rtunately, or. a* some may perhapa HH ink fortunately, many of the atones thua m ?de have internal discoloration* una oblca. But M. Vcrneud think* further perimentition will enable bim to avoid ^H| L-?r dcfect*. QMS Cn*arth*d lt?Tolatio*ary MmmI*. jSHfl Vorkmen. while excavating in the cellar Hi the old Hall of Record* at New York HHj y, found a |>orti<>n of a ball and chain > poked to have l>een u*cd as a manacle HBM Kevolutionary prisoner* during Britiah BgSl| 'upation of the city. The relic conaiata KfljU two or three rusty link* of chain at* hc?l to a metal ball weighing twenty . Uniform lime In Houth Africa. SEMI ?he cltx'kn in the Orange Kivcr Colony, > T>an?vaal. Rhodesia, Portuguese Kant riea ami tin- ('afx* Colony have licen ad- BUflE iced half an hour, thu* making them reitponil with the time of Natal, which two hour* ahead of Greenwich time. ^K?] nceforth th-rc w II be uniform time NH oughout South Ar<ica, with the excep*^H?R d of German territor*. .hbsj Hycteatc Lipoalilna. tgjgfl kn international hygienic exposition trill^HS held in Parts, from September to No*^DH| nber, 1901. _ ?