Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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V LUKE W I THE ? I I oy ITOI. win. nenry re 1 | Author of the "T& Stone-Cutte | of Lisbon," Etc. CHAPTER XVII. Continued. "What is the matter. Fan?" "There! there! 011 the floor! In letters of blood?red blood!?you see?a name?" cried Fan, trembling and shrinking. "I see nothing, save a coin. I suppose I dropped It," said Hammond, stooping and picking it up. "And you, Mrs. Harker!" said Fan, . fearfully agitated. "You see a name *? ? KIaa^? Q n Q ' "I see nothing. Fan," said Nancy. "TJ?en it is meant for me! for me!" shrieked Fan, tossing up her arms. "A name?a phantom name! a warning?another warning from the graveNicholas Dunn! He was my husband!" And falling upon ber face she swooned with terror. Luke and Nancy stared at each other In mutual consternation. The truth was out, plain and firm! Old Fan was Ellen Elizabeth Dunn, and they were her children. "If she would but die now," 6aid Luke, pale and remorseless. " 'Twere well if she did." said Nancy. But neither of them raised the miserable old creature, whose ghastly and wrinkled face rested so still upon the came of {heir? father! Hammond gazed upon ber in stern flilence for a moment, and then turned to speak to Henry Elgin. Henry Elgin was as before, but Kate Elgin was gone! Hammond stared thunderstruck. "Tremble dog!" shouted Elgin. "Her delirium was feigned! God grant she _t? J mny escape; auu epnu^iu^ uvu uio bed "with sudden strength he shut the door of the ante-chamber near the hall and locked it with the key then in the lock. Luke, springing to a ball-cord and Jerking It violently, cried: "We are outwitted again by that girl!" Then into the speaking tube he roared: "Daniel rouse the dogs! Both prisoners are loose!" Then rushing at the locked door, he began to spring against it furiously, while he filled the rcom with cries of rage. CHAPTER XVIII. VILLAINY TRIUMPHS AGAIN. Daniel was prowling about the little library, with writing materials In his hand, when the ringing of The bell over the desk attracted his ear to the speaking-tube. The words that were bellowed from the white and gold chamber?"Daniel! Rouse the dogs! Both the prisoners are loose!"?caused him to dash down ink, pen and paper, and dart into the eastern -wing like mad. Something in white flitted by him and he grasped at it, gaining a handful of muslin, and a sharp blow in the face for his activity. The blow Kate?for it was she?delivered at random, blinded him for an Instant, and in the next second she was lost in the darkness. "She will make for the front," said Daniel, "but I know how to get there before her." He sped along the hall, down a flight of steps, taking them from top to bottom at a leap, then rushed through another hall and into a room, damp and oai-K, out ramuiar to mm. inen ne lifted a trap and hurried down a 6teep ladder into a cellar. He knew every inch of the way; blindfolded he would have known It. Counting his steps as sped on he reached another ladder and his foot was on the first round "when a strange noise startled his car. "What's that?" he said pausing. A smothered pounding, far down it ?eemed in the earth below him! Hi6 hair rose on end, the sweat ?tarted in icy drops from every pore. "It is the evil one working his way cp after Luke Hammond or me! or me!" he shouted, and bounded up the ladder till his round bullet head butted painfully against a trap above. He raised the trap and leaped into the main house. Then rushing through a basement apartment he ascended from the kitchen to the dining room. On, + -fnorfnl Iaavxm V?^ ,3 ~- ? * 3 mui icajie, uc o^itu uuu jerfcieu open .a window. "Tiger! Leo! catch him! Ha! St? boy J Catch 'em, dogs!" he shouted. In a eecond the fierce baying and savage growls of two monstrous dogs told him that he was heard. He gazed forth for a moment, seeing the dim forms of the ferocious beasts darting , here and there amid the darkness and then hurried to the rear of the bouse "Pnrd! Hush! At them, my boys!" he shouted, as he opened another window and thrust his head forth. Again tieroe baying and growls and dim shadows leaping about. "Try their teeth, my dainty girl," eaid Daniel, closing the window and ruBhiug to a cupboard, where he lighted a lantern. "Now to run down the ,hare." said he. prowling about the house, graspiug a bludgeon as if expecting to meet, not a hare, a timid, trembling hare, but a wolf or a panther. And Kate! Poor girl, after her so far successful ruse to escape from her | prison 6he had fled she knew not "whither till seized by Daniel in the hall. Escaping his brutal clutch on she sped, trying every window as her outstretched arms swept along the walls. She stumbled over something, gtooped and picked it up. It was the same hatchet her father bad lately held?cast aside the night before by Hammond. Its possession nerved her arm to strike, and finding a window she dashed out the glass, shattered the sasli. and was cutting through the shutters when she heard the wrathful shout of Daniel and the clamor of the savage dogs. "Ch. cruel fate: What shall I do?" phe filed in woeful despair, tut hack VMMOND, 1 USER.. I ck, Copyright 1896, g pi Sj by Roesst Bojtsee'b Son*. e e, 1 (AB rights reserved.) g K ing away for dear life at the stubborn wood. Daniel, returning to the eastern wing beard the sound of crashing shutters, and bounded toward the spot, with lantern advanced in one band and his bludgeon in the other. "Ruffian! would you strike a woman?" cried Kate. "Aye!" he roared, leaping forward and sweeping around his club. But his foot slipped as he sprung and he fell headlong at Kate's feet. Grasping club and lantern he was about to rise, and a bitter curse was on his lips when Kate cried out: "May God forgive me!" and struck him full upon his bare head with the blunt of the hatchet, letting fall the weapon as she struck. He groaned, fell forward upon his face and lay fearfully still. Kate stared at him for a moment as if appalled at her act. and then snatching up the lantern fled along the hall, hoping to find some entrance into the main house, and thence to effect an escape or alarm. But all the doors were_ barred and nailed up. Again she traversed the deserted halls and found herself in Hammond's library. Here the door leading into the main house was locked and the key gone. While she searched for something with which to shatter the bolt she heard a crash and jell in the eastern wing. Luke had broken his way out of the ante-room by furious springs against the door! Kate's despairing eye fell upon the strong, heavy steel poker near the grate. She seized it and showered rapid blows upon the lock. It bent, it yielded, the door flew open wide, and Kate darted away just as Luke sprang through the closet passage into the library. "Stop!" he yelled. But Kate fled on,, and was descending the main staircase when her foot tripped on a loose stair rod and she fell headlong to the bottom, sorely bruised and half stunned. As she struggled to rise the sinewy arms of Luke encircled her shrinking limbs! "Caught again!" he laughed, as he tore off his cravat and bound her WTists. Kate rose to her feet, half dead with fear and exhaustion, but made no fur ther effort to escape. "Ha! What device will yon next attempt?" 6aid Hammond, as he picked up the lantern lying near her aud led her to his library. "Whatever God shall give me wit and strength to do, monster," was her undaunted reply. "You are cunning ?very cunning," said Luke, retaining his grasp upon her with one hand and searching in a drawer with the other. "I am sorry to do it, Catharine Elgin," said he, as he produced a pair of handcuffs, "but my safety demands that you shall wear a pair of iron bracelets for a few hours." Kate made no struggle as he slipped the handcuffs over her tender wrists and snapped them fast with a tiny key. Ac thia /loo-rnrlntinn wne rnmnlptpr? Daniel made his appearance with a bloody crown and an inflamed visage. "Good," said he, as he saw the handcuffs. "That should have been done yesterday. She is as tricky as a colt. Luck was with me, for if it had been the edge, and not the blunt, of the hatchet that struck me I'm blowed if there hadn't been a murder." "It is not murder to kill brutes who assail us," Baid Kate. "Small difference to me what name you'd a-given it, Miss," said Daniel, grinning. "I wouldn't have struck ye ?I only meant to scare ye, Miss." "No matter," said Hammond. "Daniel, go place Elgin on his bed, and roll it back into the crimson chamber. When I crashed my way out I found him lying senseless in the hall. He had fainted." Daniel hurried on his errand, and Hammond led poor Kate back to her prison, where she found Daniel rolling away the bed. "My poor, dear father!" said Kate, sobbing for the first time. Henry Elgin opened his eyes at the sound of her voice and as he saw her he said: "Take heart, my child. God is just and the right will prevail." "Away with him!" said Hammond, and then led Kate to her chair. Nancy had in the meantime erased the name she had written on the floor, pulling old Fan aside to do it, and when Fan came to her senses, though her first glance was toward the spot no trace of the name remained. "It is gone!" said Fan, "but I know I saw it!" and at that instant Hammond led Kate Elgin to her chair. "Yes, Fan," began Kate, for she had overheard every word that had passed between Hammond and Nancy while slip feigned delirium. But as Kate began to speak the watchful Hammond sprung upon Fan, and seizing lier by the shoulders swung her headlong forth into the hall. "Away! to you bed, old hag!" said he. "But for you this trouble had not happened." Fan gathered herself slowly and tottered away, while Luke returned to Kate. "Moister!" said Kate. "She is your mother!" "I deny it! All my life I will Ceny it," said Luke. "Miserable liar!" replied Kate, with a scorn that made him quail. "I heard every word you and your sister there spoke. Your father's name was Nieho las uunn. ana i tnanic tiie great God of heaven that you are not my uncle!" "You know too muelj for your own good, Catharine Elgiu," said he sternly. "I am not your uncle?know it, since you believe It. But tremble to think that, as I am not your uncle, I may Income you.- husband!" AViiL this terrible threat?more terrl-l ble to Kate Elgin than all he had evei said or done?he strode away. "Mercy on me! what can that mar mean!" exclaimed Kate. "I'll tell you what he means, Miss." said Nancy, with a triumphant leer ol liendish malice. "Luke Hammond hat a son, but that son may refuse tc marry you, and then Luke-will inarrj you himself.'' "May I die ten thousand deaths rath er!" exclaimtd Kate. Jttan: you may wish auu wnm, sneered Nancy, "but Luke always ba? his way in the end. Your pride wil be all shame if yon resist much longer.' "Such villainy is dreadful to imagin? ?terrible to know," said Kate, aston ished at the calmness of the evil worn an near her. "Yes, you were proud. Catharine El gin," said Nancy, "and your eyei flashed?your lips curled?when I usee to speak to you. But, let me tell youmy blood is as rich as yours." "Blood!" said Kate, scornfully. "Ii this country blood is as rich and red ii th<? poor man's veins as in the million aire's! I know now you are not of ui by blood or birth. Nor was it prid< that made me despise you, Nancy Har ker, but hate of the evil I saw encom passing you as a garment. You ar< well worthy to be Luke Hammond's sister?Luke Hammond, indeed! H< has no right to the name! He is ar imposter! And be sure that time wil discover his villainy and yours wretched woman!" "Don't taunt me, Catharine Elgin You may revile Luke, but you shon' revile Nancy Harker! I'll tear you] proud eyes out of your head for you you minx!" screamed Nancy, openinj ana snuumg ntr wug, ieau uli^cib aui distorting her evil face with rage. "I verily believe you would. Nancj Harker," said Kate, quietly, and no shrinking a hair's breadth, "being hi! sister what better could you be than i she wolf!" Nancy swelled with venom, ant would have rejoiced to dig her sharj nails in that beautiful and scornfu face, but the bell near the door tinklec and she hurried to the speaking tube. "It is near morning; you had bettei try to sleep," were the words tha' came to her ear. Nancy replied: , "I will tell Daniel to bring a bed int< the ante-room and I will sleep there." "How Is the prisoner?" asked Luke in his den above. "Stiff-necked as ever," said Nancy. "Be wary; she is plotting," said th< tube, and Nancy left the room to seel uaujei, uui uiu uui ittii IU IULU lut: UUUJ after her. When she returned Kate "was asleej in the chair, for fatigue and excitemen had overpowered her. "You are handsome? handBome as i May morning," thought Nancy, gazinj upon the unfortunate, brave-heartet girl. "I was once as handsome as yoi ?and you'll fade ? ha! fade befor< Luke tames you." Then shaking her fist at the sleepinj girl she locked the door and lay dowi upon the bed Daniel had brought intc the anteroom. In the crimson chamber Henry Elgii once more slept. In the hall Daniel paced to and fro. In her den near the kitchen old Far shivered and moaned, dreaming of th< dead. Far down among the foundations oi the house James Greene labored anc hoped. And in the little library slep Luke Hammond in his chair, "with hif cocked pistols on the table before him. CHAPTER XIX. HAMMOND ABOVE. GREENE BELOW. At 10 o'clock on the night following the events of the last chapter Ham mond was seated in his library, won dering where the lost will could be and thinking that he would in the enc be forced to fire the house to destroj it, when Nancy entered from the east ern wing. "Well, Nancy," said Luke, "how goei all in our jails?" He laughed as ho spoke, fcr b< thought it a droll conceit, and rubbec his hands briskly as if in excellem spirits. "Much better with the prisoners thai with the turnkeys," said Nancy, sitting down wearily. "Daniel is nearly won out, for he says he cannot sleep foi fear one of the prisoners may escape and so make him a gollow's bird And as for me?I wish this thing wer< over, Luke. Catharine Elgin shows n< sign of yielding." "Khn'll viplrt in timp npvpr fpflr Anr how is Fan?" "She sits in the kitchen, moaning ant mattering." To be continued. The Track Dog. He was a dirty scrawny dog, but h? maintained the dignity of his standing or running, in fact, in dogdom. H( might have been white at one time with his black spots defined sharply but circumstances evidently had com pelled an existence that in recent years had not permitted a bath other that that provided by falling rain, and the indications were that he had not takei advantage of opportunities in that re spect frequently. He was trotting along under a truct that crossed Fulton street at a busj hour of the day. He glanced neither t( tht right nor to the left, but kept his gaze on the heels of the horses in froDt If he had been a eoaeh dog he woulc have been under the axle of the from wheels, but. being a truck dog, he was under the rear axle. Whether he hai been trained to trot there as a pro tector of the tail end of the true! j from the exasperating urchins of tin street, or had of his own volitior dropped back to a rear position as f concession to the difference betweer a coach dog and a truck dog, the chron icier knoweth not. At any rate. In knew his duty, and he was doing it.Xew York Times. The l'ope'n Bird*. The Pope possesses a great numbei of pet canaries, und derives a cou siderable amount of pleasure from their singing There are at loasl twelve birds kept in cages in th? library at the Vatican, anil each little songster is given its liberty for ball an bour daily. Tbey alight on His Holiness's shoulder, and are wonder fully tame. Their singing never seem to disturb Leo XIII.. although It Is lc this apartment that many of bis recep Hons take place and some of bis discoursts are given.?Tit-Bits. A SERMON FOE SUNDAY k1 i d 1? , A SCHOLARLY DISCOURSE BY THE ? REV. DR. C- H. PARKHURST. ' v 5 , ^object: Incontpicnoas Grentnefm?A Per- C r ton May Have aii Immense Amount ' of Virtue and Yet It May Never Arrest | xne wonu 0 Aiienuoa* n New York City.?Dr. Charles H. Park- 'r hurst, pastor of the Madison Square 1'res- t ' byterian Church, preached a sermon Sun- in j day morning on a subject which might be i termed "Inconspicuous Greatness." He < | chose as "his text Mark xii: 41-44: "And ^ Jesus sat over against ;the treasury and be- 1 ? held how the people cast money into the t treasury, and many that were rich cast in ] much. And there came a certain poor i ' widow, and she threw in two mites which h make a farthing. And He called unto Him t . His disciples and saith unto them, Verilv a I say unto you that this poor widow hath ' cast more in than all they which have cast fl I into the treasury; for all they did cast in of 1 . their abundance, but she of her want did t cast in all that she had, even all her liv- t ine." Dr. Parkhurst said: c 1 i Which undoubtedly was an imprudent t 1 thing for the woman to do, for perhaps at a later hour of the same day she had to a borrow, beg or steal in order to meet the 3 necessities of her subsistence, but a beautii ful intention may still be beautiful even . if it is a little careless and uncalculating; indeed, we like it still better if it is not too careful and too calculating. The case is ; like that related bv St. ^'atthew of the 3 woman with her aiabastt.* box of oin'.ment. ^ who spent?in one sense of the word " wasted?a prodigal amount of money on J Jesus' anointing; it was extravagant and 1 reckless, but the recklessness of it was one of its charms, for'it made only more evi' dent the sweet sincerity of her affection, and if she had been more economical with ! the spikenard less of the fragrance might t have floated down to our own day. Jesus presumably was the only person in r the temple that day that took any account . of the woman with the two mites. She was , simply one of a crowd and as uninteresting j and unpromising probabl.v as are the mera1 bers of any crowd, but the fact that she ' was, outwardly at least, uninteresting f makes it intere6tinc that Christ was interim ested in her. and it is one ?f the features of our Lord's character that He was im3 pressed by unpromising people. Whoever i it might be that He was dealing with He seemed to feel that He had a good deal to go upon. No one. we should ?ay, appealed 1 to TTim to he ordinarv. We Were speaking ) here some time since about the haphazard j way, one might almost say. in which He . selected His disciples, as though any one 1 He ran across that day, when He was walking along the edge of the Sea of Galilee, r would answer well enough for a disrinle, t and so for an apostle?this to be understood not as disparagement of the position He selected them to fill, but as recognizing that even common men were so uncommon . as to be inherently able to fill the position. He could doubtless have continued His walk along the seaside and have selected , another twelve Just as competent as the first twelve, if He had cared at that time to have so many. And, certainly, it is not venturing much to presume that He could. i have come into this city. yes. and into this j congregation, and have found a dozen people with natural qualifications that would " have made them as capable as Peter, James and John and the rest to lay, in co-operaj tion with Himself, the foundations of the t Christian church. Probably the most ardent leveler in the world would not claim that all men^re fun i damentauv aiiKe, ana tunaamentany equar, j and this is not the place, certainly, to be ? drawn off into any nice speculation upon that matter, but apparent differences be1 tween people are not at all to be taken as ? just measure of their actual differences; Christ's eulogies are conspicuous for being pronounced upon the inconspicuous, ana 5 that is a fdct to be thought upon as tend) ing to change the attitude of our feelings , toward the submerged ninety-nine per cent, of the race. And I am urging this point not for the purpose of establishing a theJ ory, but in order that those of you who are evidently of a good deal of account may see more reason for. respecting and honorin? those whose claims to your re1 epect and admiration are of an undemon? strative type. Once let them have an open field and a fair charge and nerhaps they will change places with you. This may have been a nart of what the Lord had in mind 1 when He said that "many that are first I shall be last, and the last first." The idea has been rather hard ridden? 3 overridden?that if the possibilities of effect are in a man or woman, those possibilities aro bound to come to tneir realization, however untoward may be the circum stances that stand in their way. It was once elegantly stated bv one whope elor quent face is still fresh in the memory of many of us?"How many Miltons may have died in their mothers' arms we cannot state, but the grown-up Miltons have been heard from." Easy to say. difficult to prove i I and eminently improbable. Of a hundred ' kernels of wheat scarce one ever fulfills 1 the destiny marked for it in its own consti* tution, but the ninety-nine that are ground up in the miii are each as full of the possibilities of "blade, ear and full corn in the 5 ear," as the one that happens to be dropped into the furrow. A tropical palm , will still be nothing less than a palm even J though grown in a northern latitude, but * however abounding may be its native enert gies and vital forces it will be uneouat to the discouragement of short days and early frosts. The apostle Peter has become a great ' power in the history of the church and of l Christian civilization, but if on the day r that Jesus went strolling along the beach, gathering up disciples, Peter had been 9ut ' at sea fishing instead of inshore mending e his nets it is not probable he would ever f i have been heard from. It is rather impor- a tant to be somewhere near the track when * the train of opportunity goes bv. There r is undoubtedly a providence in things, but j 1 at the same time there is an accident in things in the sense in which that word accident can be properly used by us. You ^ 1 will recall the incident which St. .Tohn relates as occurring at the pool of Beth- , esda. There was 6ome medicinal property I in the waters oi tne pooi pernaps, at any rate at certain times an angel descended into the pool and troubled tne water and J 5 the one who was fortunate enough to be the first to get into the water after it was I troubled was healed of any infirmity from which he might be suffering. That is, the ? man who chanced to be closest to the track when the train of opportunity went by could go aboard and arrive. In Macaulay'e essay on history there oc' curs this illustration, which, without any l straining, lends itself to the matter we are ? now considering. "At Lincoln Cathedral there is a beautiful painted window which 1 was made by an apprentice out of the pieces of glass which had been rejected and thrown away by his master. Jt is so far superior to every other in the church thnt, k according to tradition, the vanquished artr ist ki'led himself from mortification." ) Which means that the finest window in the entire edifice was made out of glass that to ' an inapnreciative and" unsympathetic eye 1 was good for nothing and cast out as shror 1 I refuse. The miracle of the feeding of the r (. 5000 lets us see among other things that ' Christ had a very distinct regard for what c * the disicnles probably thought were mere ? I odds and ends, and at the end of the re- j past gathered up more than enough crusts ' aHd scraps to feed the whole company over ^ again. s This accounts for the surprises so often ' recurring vhen men who have never Peen { credited with ability, either intellectual or 11 moral, are accidentally pushed into place* 1 of responsibility and in that way have a * pressure put upon them that crowds their t latent possibilities into active powers ol ef- f feet. It has often been to me a matter or > amazement the heavy load that a person t with seemingly no draft poiver. will pull f when once he has been caught and narnessed and properly driven, and probably > no one_so much surprised as the man him- c selr. The difficulty is not in Tinning inen that are competent to do what is needed, ' 1 but in getting men to do enough to become t themselves persuaded that they are compe- J ; tent. 1 Just as there are people that are so in J the habit of thinking tney are sick that i C they never get well, and nothing less than t , a fright or an earthquake will convulse * them into convalescence, so society and the church and the State are full of competent f I incapable* who are good for nothing simply I I because they have never commenced to n imagine that they are good for almost any- t thing, and have never been so circum- o stmced or have never so had responsibility t rolled upon them as to shake them out 01 t i beir incapacity. Moses is a case in point, ,*ho, up to the time he was eighty, never lid anything noteworthy, so far as we cau sarn, except to kill an Egyptian?fundanentaiiy the same man. oi course, that he i-n<? flurinor the rrowninr, distinguishing leriod of his life, but not having happened luring his first four score years to be so ircumstanced or to be so' plucked t by he pull of events as to discover that he ras not a nonentity, and when summoned o action by Jehovah, pleading off, as so nany like him have done since, by alleging limself to be constitutionally unequal to he task that was set him. If you ask a nan to do something who thinks himself ncompetent and he says "No," you havp e take his "No." The advantage the Lord ins ie that He does not have to take a nan's "No," did not take Modes' "No," tut elun* to him, stood him up and put. the oad on him and told him to go along with t. and just the weight of the load nlade lim able to go along with it, pressure found he limp muscles that had been waiting for ilmost a century to be crushed into exer;ion. and circumstances not made him Teat, but gave him a chance to be, what ie and millions of other people are irt conlition to be when the chance comee, when he assassin's bullet strikes, when at the mportune moment a shove is given into he Pool of Bethesda. No matter what a person is in native iputonoea nr in inward mnral and Christian jeauty, we give him credit for only so nuch as has externalized itself and aB has vrought itself into a kind of encompassing lalo, and we base estimate on the square ,'ontcnts of the halo, You have many a ;ime seen a loeomotive looming out of the Jarkness with its flashing headlight, and hat light has appeared to you so brilliant n the dense night it has seemed to you al? no6t as though the front of the engine vere frescoed with a section of the sun tnd the ground for a hundred rods in advance of the train whitened with almost he brilliancy of daytime. .But if you have lad an opportunity to insnect that headight and to narrow all this illumination lown to its fountain source you have very ikely discovered there a small glass lamp urnished with a wick and a little kerosene >il. This is not to find fault with the light, Ait only to call attention to the fact, rhich you are likely to forget, that in es;imating it you reckoned in the reflector ;hat was framed to encompass the light tnd which made you suppose there wa? a jreat deal more luminousness than was actlally the case. That is the way in which >ur estimates generally are arrived at? jriginal light with the circumjacent reflec;or added in?central flame plus the au eole. Now the Lord in His estimates disjenses with aureole?which is what Scrip;ure means when it says that He looketh mf nn the outward aDDearance. He is, lever misled by reflectors or by the ablence of reflectors. A man may have very ittle virtue and yet put that virtue into iome showy achievement with a large sujerficial area, whereupon men get out ;heir measuring rods, figure up the area, :onsult the multiplication table and decide ;hat he has a great deal of virtue; that, is vhat I mean by computing on a basis of rnreole, adding reflector to the little kerosene lamp. On the other hand, a person nay have an immense amount of virtue, rat circumstances be such that it never Decomes manifested in a way to arrest at;ention?a very beautiful light it may be, rat not shining under conditions that ring t with a halo. Now that was the ease with the woman n the temple. The halo hunters saw lothing but a commonplace widow travelng past the contribution box. The Lord, vith whom nimbus does not count, saw md feit what the woman herself meant ind was. To Him she was the same as :hough she had dropped. in a thousand ihekels, but not to others who were preset, for others would have reasoned iust as >eople do now, and would have loolced to ;he size of her gift to determine the size >f her heart and would have concluded ;herefore that she had a two-penny heart. \lready nineteen hundred years ago that )oor widow had been become convinced hat "nobody has a right to die rich." she acted on the principle when 9Jie tnrew n her two mites. No one made anything >f it but Jesua, because there was not gildng enough upon her advertisement ot the jrinciple to make the air bright about it. Nineteen hundred years later the same jrinciple that "nobody has a right to do I lie rich" was announced by one quite dif- j erently nituated from the widow with two nites; and the principle and the man who ' tnnounced it were published and heralded j :lear around the globe. In the first in- j itance there was only a two-penny hnlo, I tnd in the other a million-dollar halo, nnd j he big halo won. It cannot be part of >ur purpose to claim that the illustrious Scotchman is not just as charitable us the I nennsnicuons Jewess. We are only claim- | ng that the reflector that you frame | iround the lamp is no part of the lamp j md certainly no part of the blaze that the jurning oil sustains. It would be interesting to see the ooihnotion that would have neen excited over ler there in the temple had a heart as iweet and beautiful as the Lord saw her j leart to be, not been held under the limi;ations of ungenerous circumstances, and iad it been within her means to do nil that ier heart prompted?in other words, had he conditions under which she lived heen vide and open enouch to match her own jersonal nobility. Most people live in a 'ery small world; they are in it and they iave to stay in it. Influences hereditary, ind providential if you please, have built iround them an environment close and im- j jrisoning; possessed oi hearts and intelligence larger than the sphere that despotic :ircumstances permit them to fill. Some- | imes it may be due to physical debility; i iometimes it comes as the result of those intoward conditions in early life that presented the discipline of personal powers ind graces, certainly possessed, but suficiently cultivated to make them a -'ad ind serviceable potency. Such ones are all ibout us and we could give their names. Then there is another host of those who >y the very necessities of life have been :ondemned to an inevitable routine of imall duties, destined to life-long slavery hat is not called slavery only for the reaion that the lash that is held over them is vielded by common necessity, not by a ilave master. I feel this'very keenly sometimes when [ stand by the casket of some faithful old iouI that has lived a good many years and >een patiently faithful all the while, vand hen try to speak some kindly memorial vord in her behalf before the casket is inally closed. There i6 not very much hat can be eaid? at least of a kind that is lsually thrown into eulogies. She simply lid kindly and well a lot of little things >no day, and then the next day did very liueh the same things over again, and coninued in that way till the final night ame and she lay down to her iong rest. !n the newspaper column of deaths you ead that she was born on such a date, lied on such a date and the funeral will be leld on such a day. That is you will find iuch a notice as this if there are enough leople that cared for her and if the survivors can afford to pay for the advertiseA,id Mint i? nil. Nothine in the :ase out of which to construct the ordinary un of funeral oration; no luminous halo nade up of remarkable works done, renarkabk' words spoken; no record you an read from of large donations bequeathed. colleges instituted, hospitals founded. There was no money to found them with. Ier father had left her nothing and she vas never in the way of making any; all ;he could do was to take care of her little lome. She had a heart big and tender moueh to create asylums for all the sick ind distressed in the town, but asylums :ost mor.ev and she had little money, and ilmost all her dollars were mites. There vas a halo around her sleeping face, but inly a two-penny halo as most people saw t. The Lord saw more and perhap i two >r three others. The funeral was a small iffair; there vas plenty of room, room for l good many that were not there. Not iianv (lowers inside, no flashing equipages iiitside. But her turn will come. She will have ier innings by and by. "The Lord knowth them that are His." "Many that are irst shall be last and the last first." Icaven will be interesting for its surprises. f wc are there we shall see a jiood many ti the front row that the Lord will have o introduce before anybody will know hem. .Some people that have been lionized [own here will find heaven a little chill ill they get used to the back seats. The ,ord has made His own mind so clear ipon these matters that we who venture o bear His name ought to be learning to stiniate ourselves and other? l\v what hey are. not by the noise they make or he halo they cau create. 'l 1+'"V'*'r*:y * v;F' '%3" TIE GREAT DESTROYER SOME STARTLINC FACTS ABOUT THE VICE OF INTEMPERANCE. If Ton Would Save the Soali of Tom Children From Destruction H?nl*h lhat "Accnraed TtaiIlg;?, Knm From Toar Homo?Power of ThU Demon. If war has slain its thousands, intemperance has slain its tens of thousand?. And where i* the father who would not prefer to see his son shot down before his face than to behold him poisoned to a degrading death by these fou. harpies whom legion XJilO CIUJJJV.YCU . And who are the men whose fate has been thus sealed in hopeless ruin? They are young. Tney were seized and bound while young. Hardly one in hundreds has ^passed the maturity of his earthly days. Did they begin as purposed, willing drunkards? Nothing was further from their thoughts or their desires. They have waded out most gradually, almost imperceptibly, into the deep. They once looked down upon the inebriate sot with sorrow and contempt, as others now look down upon them.* They started with the drop their fathers gave 'them, or with the offered glass of friendship, at noon or night, when they lacked the courage to refuse. The demon seized them when they were sheltered, as they thought, f&r from his abodes, and led them on, his purpose fixed, though yet. unknown to them, for their final ruin. Where did this work of ruin begin? Do not tell me at the tavern or in haunts like, that. What gave to pure and innocent youths that taste for taverns? Where did they get the appetite which sought its ob jects and its pleasures there: iou will De compelled to look backiiar heyond their public limit, and to feel and to acknowledge the responsibility often coming nearer home. The moderate drinker is but an indentured apprentice to the drunkard. A gracious divine providence may cripple his ability in his youth, and he mav not thoroughly learn his trade. But the habitual glass, however aoparently refined, signs hi? indenture. And no one who starts as an apnrcntice of the craft, or who leads another to take a single step in its clearly marked line, has power to define the limits of the course. God grant that we may never live to ?ee our sons and daughters, so precious in our sight, cast out to perish under the destroying power of this legion demon! But if we would avoid this terrible sorrow., let us avoid all connection with the habit or the trade. Let us remember that he plucks the lambs from the flock at home, and selects the victims for his holocausts -when they and theirs least expect his approach. If you will save the souls of your children from the destruction, or yourselves from all participation in the ruin, banish the "accursed thing" from your habitation; lock up the tempting bottles from their sight and neither have nor offer upon your tables this unnecessary inducement to vice, this direct provision for impoverishment of the health, poison to the bodies, and des'.ruction of "the souls of yourselves and '/our children and your friends.?Rev. Stephen H. Tyng, D. D. A Drunkard's Body After Death. A post-mortem examination of nearly seventy persons who had died from excessive use of ardent spirits showed the fcli : iuvviu? iav.i.0. 1. Congestion of the scalp and 01 the membrane of the brain, with much serous (watery) effusion. The substance of the brain white and firm, as if it had lain in alcohol for one or two hours. ?. The lungs not always, but frequently congested or inflamed. 3. The heart flabby, enlarged, dilated [ and loaded with fat outside, the blood in it of a cherry red color and with no tendency to coagulate. 4. The stomach perfectly white and thickened in some cases; in others having patches of chronic inflammation. In the worst oases a large portion of the stomach covered with the species of inflammation which causes the blood to be poured from the minute veins. | 5. The liver enlarged?in old drunkards weighing from six to twelve pounds., 6. The omentum?a sort of apron which immediately covers the abdomen in front? loaded with a gray slushy fat. 7. The kidneys enlarged, flabby and infiltrated in numerous spots with whitish rr? if for * j lAJrt I WVI . Q 8. The smill intestines fiHed with bile, and coated with a tenacious mucus. 9. The blood in a very fluid condition, having but little fibrinc; but much albumen and fat. ; 10. The whole body, except the brain, decomposing very rapidly. Is it any wonder that a drunkard ~-?ds medical treatment? Eeaten by Barleycorn. The papers say that John L. Sullivan, the once invincible pugilist, is a bankrupt, referring, of course, to his financial affairs, as his account in the bank of morals was overdrawn some time ago. John amassed a fortune, it is said, of more than a million dollars^ most of which he has squandered in riotous living. We very much doubt if any man, since the days of Samson, had the physical prowess of John L. Sullivan. No man could withstand the [ force of his fists. But Mr. Sullivan conceived the foolish notion that he could j "down" old John Barleycorn. Well, he got him down, all right, but it is only a question of time, in all such cases, when this greatest of all pugilists will win. Just previous to Mr. Sullivan's final encounter with James Corbett he had frequent bouts with old John Barleycorn, thinking as so many do. that a "stimulant" of that kind wouid strengthen him. As a result of this Erroneous notion when John met James hiR brain was sluggish and it took too long for his fists to get orders from headquarters. That's what the dispatches meant nt the time when they said lie was "groggy." All of which goes to Drove what we've asserted that old John Barleycorn is the greatest of all pugilists, and that he will ultimately knock out every fellow who tackles him.? Marion Record. Drink Increase in Europe. The rapid increase of drink consumption in European countries is commented upon by an English newspaper which quotes the following startling statistics: I In 1830 there were 2S0,000 drinking places in France; in 1896 there were 500,000, or one for every thirty adults. In Belgium, where gin is the popular intoxicant, the consumption of alcohol has increased 125 per cent, since 1890. There is one public house to every thirty-six inhabitants. In Holland there is one tavern to every 300 of the population. In Norway there is only one licensed house to every 7812 inhabitants. In England where there is a "gin palace" to every 145 inhabitants, the statics show a ri6e from ?72,850.000 gallons of beer (1882) to 1.282.470.000 (1895). and of 34,079,000 gallons of spirits to 42,462,000 during the same period (31.9 gallons of 1 beer per head, 1.05 of spirits). Tiie t'rniuac in ?rieT. The beer adulterants eaid to be most frcj quently used are glucose, decayed rice, mouldy corn, Irish moss and rosin. Pure food agents all over Pennsylvania liRvc been instructed by Commissioner Cope to collect samples of beer for analy- { sis. The sellers of those containing in;.' rious adulterants will be prosecutcd. The most notorious liquor firm in Chicago, which runs half p. dozen or mora "high class saloons," where young men are ruined amid elegant surroundings, has just started a store for women. "It is preeminently an establishment, for supplying home trade," they advertise. In the province of Ontario, Canada, a vigorous campaign bearing on the liquor traffic is now well under way. Entire prohibition of the traffic is not aimed at, but the purpose is to abolish the barroom, and with it the treating custom. The National .Anti-Saloon League, with about ];>0 delegates, representing twentyfour States, recently met in convention 111 one of the large churches in Washington, D. C., to discuss the most effective means for aggressive work along temperance lines. The managers of the public school system in Belgium some years ago set apart a certain day each year, known as "pledge day'' in the schoois, when the parents are requested to attend, and each scholar who has reached twelve years of age is invited to take a p'edge of total abstinence from intoxicants for eight vears. mm THE RELIGIOUS LIFT ] READING PGR THE QUIET HOUR 9 WHEN THE SOUL INVITES 1TSELF.| M The World Is Too Much With t?- A W J tatlon?God and Eternity the OnlrKs* BB pla??tlon For Some Thing* That Arise SB In This Life. jflflj "The world is too much -with us." Nighi I and day # 9 No time have we to pause beside the way,. ' Where roadside flowers in tender beauty ']H bloom, Or violets veil the dust above a tomb. "The world is too much with us." Pelf ' V and ein, , The stress of self, and earth's tumuitnoue ?fl The ceaseless probings in ' / things utr- ;S known, . Eat through our lives as acids through * stone. IS "The wtfirld is too much with us"?yet, if .fl Linked earnest effort to high purity, 86 Then we would cease through sordid care.. JH to grope,' fl And f=ee, at times, the shy, sweet face of jH ?William H. Hayne, Tills Life Only ? Training- " "The round man in the square bole and '?; in the round hole the square man" ii often said, and people seem astonished, as they say it, as if the occasion which provoker the remark were an unusual tajng. Unt? . Tj little reflection shows that in 'fttQity this '. is almost the rule rather than .the excep- / 1 tion. Who does not know, foe example, a | clergyman who would have made an ex-\fcJ cellent banker or physician, a. professor* /'jPjj who would have been a great strategist, * fcl soldier who would have been a first-rate man of affairs? 1 Of course, when it is said that for per-% . I sons to mias their vocation is by no means vI uncommon, the truth of the saying has to I be discounted bv making due allowance ' I for that "forward and delusive faculty," as Butler calls it, the imagination. People ] I are only too apt, which is quite another >:.;j thing, to imagine themselves misplaced. Sri It is soothing to wounded self love to flat- Jfl ter oneself that one could have done much fl better had the lot fallen in fairer ground. The environment, says the Saturday Re-4 - * view, it must be Admitted, seems in nine, cases out of ten singularly inappropriate^ >! ;' It seems so. Is it so really? Cannot wp. . even with our very limited vision, see that /?> the difficulties inherent in our surround- p. ings are often the very thing needed for |; the discipline of life, for the training and. ^" perfecting of whatever of good is in ua? H . Life is called a race. It is an obstacle;. race, and the winners are those who stifr- . JE"; mount the worst obstacles bravely aodjML wisely. A sensible teacher has said: "Kiidflfi| out what occupation a boy or girl' lij^KflB beet and seems aptest for, and >i?velop liking, this aptitude, but don't n^get^HBHH things uncongenial must be done the sake of s>e!f control." S?ppo&?.^HH9H? all, the old story were true that th^^HHHB is but a training for another. tbaHfl^HSH really important world were yet to That story which the world is ever ing, but to which it so obstinately ret^Hj^HB that belief which materialism puts on^HBNHR side, but long experience of human na^EBSS seldom fails to replace. On that hypcSBKHE sis certainly much in life becomes intelnHjffS ble of which no other theory can anything but farce. If the .whole play vHB| played out here, undeniably life is very of-^HR ten, nothing but a farce, sometimes -dibit emn, sometimes squalid. That a man with '85 one great capacity should through all. Jii* Jflgj life be' hindered by circumstances ert&WJ ::VjB external or of his own character from turn- dSa ing that capacity to account is a wast?\ ? general loss, so vast, so indefensible t^ac. M if this life were all. there could be nothinr aW for it but a bitter laugh. If, however, lifo here were but a prelude to the real thing yet to come, it might economically be per- a fectly sound to debar the man of one ca- ' pacity from using it until he had gone' SB through a certain discinline that would enable him ultimately to use it to greater ef- / X feet. In fact it is exactly what a sensible '9 parent does with a child that early dia- aj rlncpa o narfi/?iilor mffr TTo .*M prevents him making use of it until he at- " % 1 tains a certain maturity. What are ted , v'il years to sixty; what then are sixty to eter- : a. nity? The Generosity of the Utmost. . "There are persona always ready to do you a kindness who cannot be twisted to J do you justice," said the professor thought- ' 'J fully. They like to rive, but they Bmc to ? pay. Generosity ana free-handeaness^lte' S attractive qualities, but common honestl^^J is so-very common that they scarcely think it worth while. ^ "More than one man who pinches and 1 drives sharp bargains with his workmen J all through the year makes a point of giv- A ing each man a turkey at Christmas, and - J feels very good over it, too. There are has- \ bands who are lavishing gifts, often useless ones, on a wife who never receives the simple justice of any share in the. income which she can call her own. Nor is it in money matters alone that people are inclined to think an occasional spurt of gen- i erosity will atone for the lack of steady- ' _i.: Tl 4.1 .,1,? guing. JUBblCC. U.UC1C bUUOC wuu Wuutu make costly sacrifices for a brother in need who never accord common justice to hie work or his motives, and many a one JT thinks he is giving liberally to the church and Christianity while he is in fact -with- j holding the whole life service which is hi? v i just deot."?VjTellspring. . ^ Not to Eucoorare Laiincus. Henry Ward Beeoher once said: "God'f j {U'omises were never meant to ferry oat j aziness. Like a boat they are to be rowed I by our oars, but many men, entering, for- I get the oars, and drift down .more helpless I in the boat than if they, had stayed on I shore. There is not- an experience in life bv whose side God has Mot nxecf-a promise. 1 M There is not a trouble so deep ind swift- B running that jve may not cross safely over if we nave courage to steer and strength K3 to pull." \ gl Duty of the Church. SB Professor A. L. Gillett, of Worcekf.efv H8 Mass., says: "Let me remind you of ttte )W duty of the church to teach its young. Be- BH cause the state has come to recognize that J -a-- A- x L -'i.. .k:u 2L IS IIS auiy 10 teacu iL5 vunurcu buunv things which will make them good citizen* V it doea not for a moment follow that the > J church of Christ is absolved from teaching f its children those things which will make , ^ them good citizens of heaven." Take It to the Lord la Prayer Nothing is too sm^all or too personal fo? j prayer. If we lose something it is right to ask God to help us find it. If we have a . email and difficult duty, it is no more too .A small to lay before Goa than it is too diffi-.^jfl cult. If we took everything to God in^HB prayer we should have Goa with us everything, and that would be heavco.-^^^H Wellspring. gBflfi Personality. Open the mysteries of personality and the God side appears. Alone the ptrson stands. All are powerless to render any n aid, for no one can see with the same 1 vision. ^ The spirit seems singing like a planet in space. But all moves toward one goal. A person is facing God. Tne Christ in the temple came to this reaiiza> tion. In all His life tais certainty rose grandly a3 the climax of His truest self.? The Rev. H. L. Cone, Episcopal, Bridge* port, Conn. Most people experience considerable dif* j ficulty in living up to their college-bre<J?^^ children. afl The Pepper Vine. 1 The United States Consul at Eomba; fl sends to the Bureau of Foreign Commerce Bj some interesting information about the I climbing vine to which the world owes its supply of black pepper. It is found wild in the forests of Travancore and along the VH Malabar coast, but is cultivated in South* M west India, whence it was introduced into MBI T> Java, JSUmaira, .ourntru, ine itiiiiuy sula, Siam. the Philippines and the \Ve??^^B| Indies. Tne vine has spikes of white flowers?twenty to thirty flowers in each spike ?which ripen into fieshv berries the siw of a pea. Each berry contains a single seed,?^H^ and the seeds, when crushed, make the black pepper of commerce; if the cortical SB be removed white pepper is produced. <