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liim M i?i i J. i?l?i iix; i ? | A CHILD OF ||J :: y: : : : by E. L. J CHAPTER V. Continued. *'Ab," rmitter^d Dexter. with a sat5&?actory sigb. "that's all right. But 1 wonder what it was!'' He walked slowiy onward, somewhat uncertain of bis footsteps?there was -certainly something wrong with me pavement: it seeiueu 10 u?* most-? when lie experienced a repetition of liis-dizziness. This time be sank to the ground, in ?cnseqnence of there being nothing substantial withiu reach for him to lay hold of. and a crowd immediately gathered around him. ' Their voices acted Jike a charm upon .him. He scrambled to his feet, and gazing at the people in a dazed conditiou. pushed through them unceremoniously, and in the course of half an hour succeeded in reaching his shop in safety ?while one of the flaunting women in the crowd he had left behind him, said ,>vith a laugh: "It's easy to see what's the matter jvith him."' Dexter's movements. when he "was in his shop, were guided by a kind of wise instinct. The first thing he did was to put up his shutters and lock his street door. The second thing, to place by his bedside as much bread as he found in his cupboard, and a jug of water. The third thing, to make a large pot of tea. The fourth thing, to undress himself and go to bed. "I'll have a good long sleep," said Dexter, speaking confidentially to himself; "and I shall wake up in the morning quite well." Then he drank a cup of hot tea. Then he said again: 1 "I wonder what it was? I don't think I've eaten anything to disagree with me. It might be understandable if it was summer and a hot sun was blazing on my Lead. But it's winter, anil a precious dismal winter, too. There was a frost setting in last night when that Little Make-Believe was running away with the pie. Rum idea, not to eat it herself. Almost as rum as finding myself here in bed in the middle of the day, instead of the middle of the night. Shouldn't wonder if it was a rush of blood?yes, that's 'ffrhat it was, a rush of blood. Oh. Lord! here's my head going round .again!*' Then he gave his head a great many shakes to bring it to a proper sense of Its duty?he was really angry with it for its bad behavior?but it went round more than ever. ' men ue iooueu at ins lamer s nigmcap, hanging solidly down from the rafters, and that was going round, too. Then he looked at the little nest of firawers in a corner of the room, and that was going round, too. Then he looked at the olt} armor, old brasses, old cravings, old lace, old enamels, old furniture, with which the room was crammed, and they were going rtfund, too. Then the ceiling -went round, then the floor went round, then his clothes went round?how funny his muddy old boots, with his socks sniffed iu them, looked, as they waltzed gravely in and out the goods. A peculiarity of these proceedings was that although every article in the small room was actually within Lis reach, they ail seemed to be going round at it very long distance from, him?just as if he were gazing at them through the thin end of. a pair of opera glasses. "Upon my -soul" he-said, "I feel like & teetotum." Suddenly, and evidently by some occult arrangement and understanding between themselves, everything stood stock still in its proper piace and distance?boots, socks, nightcap, celling, tloor, armor, brasses, carvings, enamels?there they were all ot them .as steady as a rock. "This." said Dexter, with a weak lit 11c laugh, reaching out his hand to the ' teapot to pour himself .out .a cup of hot tea, "is about the rummiest tiling that ever happened ro me. .Nobody would *, believe it of me, and I don't.know?no, f* upon my soul. I don't Quite know if I v believe it of myself." \ He was surprised to find that the tea had got ice cold sJl in a minute, s "Here's another funny thing I don't vjuite believe,"' he said; "a minute ago 1 the tea was boiling hot. and now it's as cold as charity. But I mustn't forget it's winter; that's what's making my fingers tremble so, Jolly^ -cold? jolly cold. Yes, jolly cold as charity. No: that can't be right. Jolly coid .as charity sounds topsy-turvy. The .cup rattled in the saucpr, and, the spoon against both, as he held them . in his hands, and wondered -why the tea was so cold. H* did not know that a day and a night and the best part of another (lay ihad passed since he went to bed. With difficulty he replaced the cup .ar.d saucer on the table. Just in time, for everything began to jro .round again, and there be was lying <cji the flat of his back, watching the gyrations in a kind of stupid, consented stupor. Among the carvings were some <juerr old faces of men and woiimd ai;(l jinimrilK whifli <riiripd occasicnnl.'v from tbe silent -tv.ultz to have a close <ook at ljjfii: and when in hi# tbougb-s J:o asked them bosv they were, and r -whether jlw-y were enjoying tbero""?~ foJto*. lliey grinned and uodded at liiio. and sieved to say: ? "Very much, indeed. very ranch, 5n r j\w.i no vv are you. um r.nil how arc you enjoying yourself?" "Quite well. thank you,"' Jbe rc-piied, ?quietly. "Pray, don't *iop ci> n).v account. Go 'round -go round. TLere'g a niMnbor of little circles up there, iind you'll just fit into tbem. And mtU a*;.. ..! . mill KE-BELIEVE | ,R ' IIS THE SLUMS. 1 farjeon. JJ {here's my tools waiting for partners. But upon my soul and body, it any little boy or girl would tell me what it all means. I irive 'em a brand new far den. It won't last long, that's one comfort/' For it was all over once more, and every article in the room was as sober r.s a judge. He felt so thirsty that he determined to have another cup of tea, cold as it was: br.t when he put out his hand he could not find the tea things. He managed to crane his head over the bedside, and there upon the floor lay the teapot, cup an<| sau<*or, broken in a dozen pieces. "Now. how did 1hat happen?" he wondered; "not a moment ago they were as sound as I am, and I didn't hear anything fall. It's that confounded waltzing, I suppose. Knougb to upset everything in the place. Never mind. I'll have some water!" But to say he would have some water was one thing, and to have some water was another. The water in the i jus was a mass of ice. To crawl out of bed and get a sharppointed knife and to crawl back again shivering and dig into the ice with the knife tiil he obtained sufficient to assuage his thirst, occupied him much longer than he supposed, for be had lost count of time, and intervals which he reckoned as so many minutes were j in reality so many hours. "I'm as weak as a "kitten," he thought; "but come what will, I'll j have some sleep, or I'll know the reason why.'' So he winked at his father's nightcap. and saying. "If you're going to i have another waltz, have the goodness J to let me know beforehand." turned on j his side and fell into a sleep less dis- j turbed than he had previously enjoyed. His dreams were not so extravagant, fonfo cj t i /-? UII l Wfir SUUiUCUUJ laiiiMKTiiv. His predominant fancy was that he was walking through scores and scores of alleys and courts and narrow streets for the purpose of asking the little boys and girls what it all meant. Every one he asked returned the same answer, ar.d to eveT.v one who answered him he cave a brand new farthing. The answer was: "Old Dexter's' had a fever." "Not "You've had a fever," but "Old Tester's had a fever," as if he himself was somebody else. "But look here." he said to a young imp with weak eyes and red Jiair; "I'm old Dexter!" "Gammon!" retorted the young imp, with scornful snap of his lingers. "Did you ever see old Dexter going aiinnt nc vmi'vo I'.f'ninsr nil. with a sack u UVUI J VM f o O - of brand new fardens on bis back, giving 'em away as if they was stones? You old Dexter. Tell that lo the marines." By which speech the dreamer knew that he carried on his back a sack filled with the new farthings be was giving away so liberally. I-Ie did uot find it at all an unpleasant sort of blimp, and notwithstanding that there were thousands of farthings in it, it was as light as a bag of feathers. He .went about to other boys and girls, and tried to bribe thetn with admitting that "he was old Dexter, and no other fellow; but bribe them as he might, be could not get them to admit that he was himself. Said one. "Arsk old Sally if you don't believe us, and give her four fartb ings. OKI Sally was a blind woman who stood bogging on the curbstone every Saturday night in Clare Market, within twenty yards of Thomas Dexter's shop. The dreamer gave her four farthings, saying: "I'm Thomas Dexter." "No, 110, kind sirr said Sally. "You're hiding your charity under another name than your own. Thomas Dexter never gives anything to the poor."' "Here you. sir." cried the dreamer to a figure in a gray cloak that happened, oddly, to come his way. "Tell mo why old Sally and the little chaps wont recognize ir.e. I should like to know, really,.and I'll pay yer for the information." "Pay me. then," said the figure, holding out his two hands, which the dreamer filled with farthings, "and look and learn." He flung the farthings into the air, and they changed instantly into little birds, their feathers the colors of the rainbow. The odd part of the affair was that every bird wore a white aprou, like a waiter, .and every one of them carried something jucc to eat or drink. Loaves of bread, basins of soup, sheops' trotters, mutton chops, plum duff, pork sausages, mince pies, and goodness only .knows what, which they immediately commenced to distribute among the thousands and thousands of poor children who started up like magic* on all sides. r\f t liaco nnor rhil Jilt" I Cll'CP V i I1M4UJ -V*- {/WW. v.... d'ren were familiar to the .dreamer, for he had seen theru in hie walks about the streets. The most familiar figure in the throng was Little Make-Believe, wiio* seemed to be ubiquitous, she was so continually repeating herself. How eagerly they took the food from the birds, and how eagerly they ate and drank tlie good things! What a chorus of thanksgiving filled the air! "Prirce. ain't it?" "Here's a jolly go!" "fJood luck ter yer!" "Warms i a chap, don't it?" "Never liaii sucii a feed in all my born days!" "I wouldn't call the Emperor of Koosher my uncle!" And they laughed and hoorayed, aDd tjue birds kept up a pleasant twittering all the time. "What do you think <rt' the sight?" asked lhe figure In the sray. cloak. "It's beautiful!" exclaimcd the dreamer, enthusiastically. "Well, did old Deiter eTer do sueb a tningv "I don't remember," said tke dream- ; er. considering a JittJe, "that he ever : did/' "It's worth cloins, is it not?"' * 1 should s;iy it was. Listen to the little chaps." "It seems to please you.*' "It d?es." "Why," asked the cloaked I "did old Dexter never indulge in a : pleasure so cheaply purchased?" "Now yer mention it," replied the j dreamer. *'I suppose it is because h? i never thought of it." "Not a young man, this Dexter;"' v "Not at all." "How old. should you say?" "Oh. 1 know, having lived with h/?>. so long. He's fifty-five." "Fifty-five! And never thought of ! /i/iirirr n ^hnritnlile action." "Perhaps he didn't have time," pleader! the dreamer. "Not in all those fifty-five years? A large family of his own to occupy him, perhaps?" "No," said the dreamer, with something like a sigb, "he has no family." "No wife?" "No. Here. I say!" cried the dreamer, excitedly, as the phantom of Polly Cleaver glided past. "What are you doing here? I thought you was dead." "To whom are you speaking?" "To one who was my wife for about a mouth. There she is?no, she's gone!" "Dead to you?" "Dead to every one, so far as I j know." "And left no child behind her?" "None tbat I ever heard of." "So you stand alone, without one human link of love to bind you to the world, without sympathy, without charity, without a spark of kind feeling for the suffering and helpless. Farewell." In the utterance of this word the children and the birds faded from his sight, and the dreamer found himself alone with the figure in the gray cloak, which was slowly moving away. "But I say, old boy!" cried the dreamer, "you are rather hard on old Dexter. He isn't at all a bad sort of fellow. Upon my soul, he isn't." He caught hold of the cloak, which fell from the figure, and the dreamer i saw before .him the form of a man J shaped in ice, and on the region of the j heart were inscribed the words, "Old Dexter's Charity." The dreamer laid his hand upon the inscription, .and shivered as he murmured: "Precious cold, upon my soul!" Then everything vanished and Thomas Dexter enjoyed a dreamless sleep of several hours. He was aroused to consciousness by a postman's knock at the street doer. He jumped out of bed and shuffled into his shop, where he saw the letter ! drop through a slit. On the floor there were two or three other letters and three copies of a daiiy newspaper, which the postman poKea i every morning" under the door. He gathered the newspapers and > looked at the dates. "Why," he muttered in wonder. 'Tve j been asleep for three days and nights, j I've been ill. I suppose. I feel better j now, but still a bit shaiiy. What's j I that noise?" It was a jioise of voices in the street, j followed by a cracking at tbe door, I which betokened that people were trying to force an entrance. "Hold bardi" he cried. ""What do yer want?" In response he heard voices exclaiming: "It's old Dexter's voice!" ''It ain't; it's his ghost's!" '"It's somebody robbing tiie placer ' Break it in, policeman; break k in!" To avert the destruction Thomas Dexter hastily unlocked the door and threw it open. And there he stood, clad only in his i shirt, confronting quite a number of ' persons, most of them neighbors, who, alarmed at the shutters being: up and at Dexter not making his appearance for three days, had prevailed upon the | policeman to effect an entrance iuto ! the shopAll of them fell back at his appear- j ance, and a few ran away as fast as | if Old Nick himself were at their heels, and when they were at a safe distance spread a report that Dexter was dead and his ghost was coming that way. Those who remained were soon convinced that Thomas Dexter was alive by the abuse he hurled at them for their kindly interest in his behalf. (To be Continued.) The Khedive's Cleverness. The Khedive of Egypt lias a saving sense of lrnnior. He is not too dignified to laugh cordially at whatever amuses him. whether in the centre of his great audicnce-room or at one of his state dinners. He especially admires the audacious wit of American women. He likes their simple manner toward him, for he owns Lis weariness at tbe way Europeans treat him. He is young, handsome and convivial. He tells with relish this incident of an American girl and himself, and evidently considers it a capital joke. The young woman had been presented at his palace, and he especially admired her alert, eager face and graceful manner. The Khedive asked her if /he could speak tbe Arabic language. He was talking in English, French and German to his guests, and wondered wny xue ciever -nueritajia uiu uui iouu i the language spoken in Cairi>. "You, for instance, haven't picked j up any of our language, liave you7" he said to the girl. "I can say one or two words," she answered. "Let us hear them,"' said the Khedive. She put out her hand toward tis pocket and with a perfect imitation of the whine of the beggars of Cairo, said: "liakshish. Excellency!'' With instant appreciatipn of ker au| dacity, he gave her a gold coin from his "efit pocket, which she treasures as n souvenir of Egypt.?Suuday Magazine. There are about 200 railway companies in England and Wales aione. aAd about twenty-five each in Scotland and Ireland, making a total of fully 250 separately constituted companies.. ^VAVkWSSVA'.WMW : HOUSEHOLD 9 * * | > * * * * MATTERS ? imwwmMMMNwi For the Veranda. For tne veranda or me summer house, for llie lawn or arbor, nothing is newer and few objects are more artistic than the garden furniture in ihis new Celtic art pottery. The distinctive Celtic forms of decoration have been applied to flower pots, seats, pedestals, jardinieres, vases, suudials and the like, and the result is interesting and highly decorative. TJne a Serving Tray. A housewife who "does her own work" has equipped herself with a big serving tray, such as waiters in hotels use. "When she is getting a meal Teady she sets this upon th kitchen table and as fast as the dishef for the table are ready, she places them upon it?bread, butter, pickles celery, etc. Then she carries in everything at one trip, thus making "bei heart save her heels.'" "When the meal is over she "carries the dead," as thej call it in the restaurants, in the same way. - . - - i A Cleanslnc Hint. The following recipe is highly recommended for its efficacy in cleansing fabrics without injuring the texture or "starting" the color, however delicate: Grate two potatoes of ordinarj size into a bowl containing one pinl of clean, cold water. Strain carefullj through a sieve, allowing the liquid tc fall into another vessel containing an additional pint of cold water. Let i1 settle and then pour off the water and bottle it for use. It may be put intc a clean fruit jar. Rub the soiled gar meat softly with a sponge dipped in th< potato water, after which wash it ir clean water. Dry carefully in the shade and then iron it Use the sedi ment left after pouring off the watei for cleaning heavy clothes, Vugs a lie carpets. Dressing the Befl. Whereas the prettiest and most ap propriate dress for the bed is undoubt edly white, there are occasions 01 which it is desirable to use eomethinj that does not soil so easily. Nothing is better for the purpose than a prettj cretonne. The spread may be simpls hemmed and large enough to escape lUtr UUUl, ULllCSO ZL UUUiiUU iO U^UU, X L which case it should come just a little below the tojf of that. If a flounce is used, it may be gathered or pleated ant should be sewed to a piece of cheap unbleached muslin, covering the springs. The flounce is divided at th( corners and bed behind the posts Shams are out of fashion, and insteac the bed is dressed for the day witt the hard, long l>olster which has come flown to us from Louis II.'s time, and which is covered to match the spread.Exchange. , For Ironins Board. A pretty bag for a little ironinj Ooard. To box it, make a bag in the board, which may be hung in a lavatory or closet, is made of flowered cretonne. The bag is boxed to fit the shape of the board up to the poinl where it begins to round, leaving enough extra width to allow for seams and tue inicjiness 01 uie uoaru. dlmv the bag up. Then put the board in it having the bag right side out. Pi net up and baste a narrow feam all around the edge of the board, leaving a little margin to allow of the board slipping in and out of its case easily. Ther turn the bag over and pinch up a seair like the first on the other side. Bind these seams with white cr colored tape and stitch them. Shape a lap tc the upper rounding part of the board making it long enough to fall over the front to the bag part. Bind it like the side seams and make a loop in the centre of the covered button tc the bag. Put a tape loop on the bach by which to hang the case?Boston Traveler. \gciripr s22 Cheese anc. Celery Salad?Cut in ?mall bits sufficient celery to make a heaping cupful, then cut in pieces of similar size the same quantity ol American cheese (do not: use cheese that is too new) and serve with a mayonnaise dressing and garnish with stuffed olives cut in halves. Peanut Sticks?Roll to a paste a sufficient quantity o? peanuts to make a cupful; add the grated rind of a lemon, the yolks of four eggs, six tablespoonfuls of sugar and a good )mlf /-.iin .it" ciftcul flmir WIipii srrmntll add the beaten whites of the four eggs, Roll cut on the board, cut into strips, twist aud fry in hot lard. Baked Mushrooms?An English recipe for baked mushrooms is offered: A half pound of large mushrooms will be needed, with half a teaspoonful ot minced parsley, an ounce ol' breadcrumb.?, three tablespoonfuls of salad oil, salt, pepper and a little lemon juice. Put half the oil in the baking dish, and sprinkle with half the breadcrumbs. half the parsley and a squeeze of lemon. Lay half the mushrooms otj nilf ^111 fllA A f 4ll?k All auu j'Ui ^11 uic I lOl vi iuv Vij, breadcrumbs. seasoning and parsley, Bake half an hour and just before serving dust with cayenne pepper. Macaroni ail Gratin?Macaroni baked in the shell of an Edam or pineapple cheese shell is delicious, but it has been demonstrated that the cheese shells have other uses. Almost anything au gratin is good cooked in this fashion. Cauliflower is especially recommended. Boil tht* vegetable and separate the flowerets. Place the^e well drained, in the cheese shell, and between each layer sprinkle pappot and salt and place a generous table spoonful or more of cream sauce Cover the top with cream sauce gratec cheese. and rolled bread-crumbs, dol with bits of butter, and bake. Creamed celery cooked 5n the same ;wny is ver.v good. THE GREAT DESTROYER ' :OMI STARTLING FACTS ABOUT 1 THE VICE OF INTEMPERANCE. roT?TtT? Illness, Dirt ami Worry Ar? ' Mainly Responsible For the Mann factnre of Drnnkur.i*?Incrpa?(> n Man'* Prosperity and He "Will Stop Drinltino Every man has in bis mind, in spite of all -whisky's devilish work, the real desire to do good. If that determine- i' tion ean be brought suddenly to life j: | by some powerful shock, some sudden j; awakening of conscience or will, a | man in the last stages can be saved. But, as a general proposition, sermonc on alcohol do little good except when a man has as yet had no real rea 1 son to fear alcohol or know its power, i Every man in the United States- j i should be an advocate of temperance j i This newspaper does not advocate pro j I hibition; We do not believe that tem- I . perance is really promoted by compulsion. We are not convinced that the ' majority have the actual right to rule ' , the minority in this respect, even foi men- own guuu. But this we do know: The man in | I the United States who lets whisky j r and all ardent spirits alone is a fortu- j j nate man. He is the man that sue- t ceeds, he is the man to be trusted, he j Is the man that is wanted. The great difficulty with these that j preach moderation and temperance is: | the fact that they are often absolutely ! ' Ignorant of what they talk about. i Nothing sounds more foolish to a drunkard than'the average talk of tbeM ' i teetotaler, of the man who has never ; i known whisky's influence. ' As Lecky long ago said, the reform- j , er only too often arouses contempt in j i the mind of, the man wijom he seeks | l to cure. Nine times out of ten the whisky j victim knows perfectly well that the | ' man. who argues with him. talks with j him. scolds him, begs him to stop, : s really does not know anything about j i the force against which he fights.. ? If you want to cure a man of whisky . | try to put yourself in his place. Re. j member that you are asking him to do . ; that which you, probably, could not possibly do if you exchanged places j with him. Remember that human beings always obey their strongest impulse, - whatever the strongest impulse may . be. ! Remember also the dulness of life, , the monotony which overwhelms the ' ? A A ?nlr? e+Ano onVl p mail mat suuuui< olujjc uiiumiibl ' which the ordinary nian cannot understand. " ... Don't try to make a man stop drink ing without giving him something else i j to think of, without managing in some ? I way to make it worth his while to 5 | stop, by awakening bis conscience, or j I appealing to the remaining strength that is. in him. I The most difficult thing, of course, 5 | its to make a start. The hard-drinking i man, if wise, will put himself beyond | the reach of temptation by voluntarily I j depriving himself of his liberty and i the possibility of drinking for a cer . tain length of time. [ Unfortunately, it is very difficult for i man that is poor?and most drunkards become poor ?to interrupt his work long enough to get rid of the whisky habit. The Government gladly locks uppnd outs away from the reach of whisky i and of the world all of its criminals. . (f a man steals or kills, commits bur. glary or forgery, the State will put , I him for a considerable time beyond ; I the reach of temptation. I I In view of the fact that whisky sup I Dlies practically all of the criminals ! ' that are not; made by the gambling fe- i ' | rer, would it.not be a good idea if the , | State would supply some refuge for l j the confirmed drunkard anxious to [ j ;ure himself? . I Wouldn't it be better to give the irunkard a refuge from his whisky, ' to offer him an asylum beyond the 'each of temptation now, rather than 1 ; Dave the expense of hiu burial, his L | maintenance in the hospital, the care I j >f his children later? This might be > , worth the thought of some of the well, | meaning individuals continually looki | ng around for new laws to suggest. , ! In the meanwhile, the main hope in ! the fight against whisky is, first, the j Secency of character of the whisky * Irinker himself; and, secondly, the in* : creasing prosperity of the nation. ' Poverty, with its camp-followers, ill! aess, dirt and worry,, is mainly re} sponsible for the manufacture of drunkenness. Everything that tends to diminish I poverty tends to diminish drunken- i ! aess. And, fortunately, in spite of the opposing views of the pessimists, I !he modern tendency is away from poverty and toward comfort more | widespread.?From an Editorial in the : Sew York American. I . A Good Law. As a result of the four-mile law, of I Tennessee, originally passed in 1S77 j ind amended in 1S87, saloons were | iriven entirely out of the country dis- | i J rricts. Under the act of 1899, extend- ! ; | Jig the provisions of the rour-mile law j ' :o towns of 2000 inhabitants, they 1 I ivere driven out of twenty-eight towns ! ji which they then existed. Since the | . j passage of the Adams law in 1903 they { I oave Deen (Triven out of forty other j j towns, leaving them now in only sev! ?nteen cities and towns in the State? | j ?ight over 5000 inhabitants which do I l aot come under provisions of the law, I ind nine under 5000, which have not j i ' ret taken advantage or it?ana leaving . iem in only twelve counties out of iie ninety-six. Greatest Beer Drlnkera. The Germans are not the greatest | beer drinkers, after all.. They average inly 115.2 litres per head a year, while I ;he average in England is 133.5 litres ^d in Belgium 214.5. Part of Church Work. Senator Henry Blair says, "Temper, dnce must become as much a part of j j church's work as missions. If the pulj pit, regardless of denominational disl tinctions, would unite for this great 1 i cause, would make it a part of its pri- j , ! mary work, -would regularly present 1 it, calling for contributions to its sup- j . j port until it is as much a part of j i :hureh work as is the cause with mis- i j sionary and other causes, the future j ' ; if the temperance work would be as j ~~ crncnpl hv i J rlilt us Liiir luuuipu v/4. iajv. . ; .he same eternal word of God." Saloon Keepers Liable. | ' The Illinois Appellate Court, in a de- | :ision handed down, holds that saloon- i I j leepers are liable for the death of , j ieir patrons who meet death while 1 ! ander the influence of liquor sold them . j )y the defendants. The case was that it Kate Algood, who was awarded p3000 damages against William Botivinis, a saloonkeeper of Springfield, . 1 lor the death of her husband, Ue?rge , t Algood, who had been drinking in the I .aloon of Rotwinis, and who, while on - bis way home in a.i intoxicated condition, fell from hi6 buggy and received j ajuri.es jyhich resulted fatally. j t r: - , ' < US SUNDAY SCHOOL INTERNATIONAL LESSON COMMENTS FOR APRIL 16. Subject: The Supper at Belhany, John xJi., 1-11?Golden Text, Mark xlv.. 8? Memory Verses, 2, 3?Commentary on the Daj's Lesson. I. Jesus entertained at Bethany (vs. 1, 2). 1. "Six days before the passover." Six days before His crucifix- 3 ion. He probably reachtd Bethany about the beginning of the sabbath, as the Jews reckoned from sunset to sunset "Bethany." Bethany means i "House of Dates," or "House of Com- 3 fort." It was a village beautifully sit' < uated about two "miles southeast of i Jerusalem on the eastern slope of the 1 mount of Olives. It was often visited by Christ. "Where Lazarus was." It * may have been in honor of his restora- i tion to life that this supper was given, ! and in gratitude for it that ou? Lord was anointed. 2. "Made Him a sup- 1 per." In the house of Simon the leper l (Matt. 26:6). This man had evidently ] been a leper, and had probably been 3 cured by Jesus. According to a tradi- 3 tion Simon was the father of Lazarus; < according to others he was the husband I nf \fnrthn nr Afnrthn wna his tpiilnw. i "Martha served," etc. It is clear that j the family of Bethany were in all respects the central figure at this entertainment. Martha seems to have had the entire supervision of the feast, and the risen Lazarus was almost as much an object of curiosity as Jesus Himself. In short, so many thronged to see Lazarus, that the miracle which had been performed on his behalf caused many to believe on Jesus. "Lazarus at the table." The supper was probably the next day after Jesus' arrival, after the close of the Jewish 6abbath. II. Mary anoints the Savior (v. 3). 3. "A pound." This was a Roman pound of twelve ounces. "Ointment" By the ointment we are to understand, rather a liquid perfume than what we commonly know as ointment. "Spikenard." A aromatic herb imported from Arabia and India. "Very costly." It was worth three hundred pence or denarii, silver coins worth fifteen to seventeen cents each; hence the ointment was worth between forty-five and fifty dollars. This would be 1 equivalent to ten times that amount 1 at the present time. "Anointed the 1 feet." The perfume was an alabaster j bottle, or flask, which was made with 1 a long narrow neck. Mark says "she < brake the box," or the neck of the j flask ThA Rp.il whif>h k*?nt thp ner- I i fume from evaporating had never | been removed; it was on this occasion i first opened. Matthew says she poured < it on His head. There is manifestly ] neither contradiction nor divergence i here between the evangelists. Mary poured the ointment over His head and ] then over His feet. John notices theanointing of the feet, not only as the act of greatest humility and the mark ( of deepest veneration, but from its un- .1 usual character, while anointing the head was not so uncommon. She who ; had so often sat at His feet, now 1 anoints them, and alike for love, rev- | erence and fellowship of His suffer- , ings, will not wipe them but with her | hair. The anointing shows her faith | in Christ and her love for Christ. ( "Wiped His feet." She took "woman's | chief ornament" and devoted it to | wiping the travel-stained feet of her 1 Lord. It was the utmost possible expression of her love and devotion. "House was filled." The house was filled with the odor of the ointment, , and to-day the church and the world J are filled with heavenly fragrance , whenever loving deeds are performed , for Christ. III. The hypocrisy of Judas rebuked I (vs. 4-8). 4. "Judas Iscariot." Judas began J to find fault at what he called a waste. , His mutterings convinced some of the , other disciples, so that they joined j with him in the condemnation of the , act. Whenever there is* an act of , splendid self-forgetfulness there is al- ( ways a Judas to sneer and murmur at | it. 5. "Given to the poor." Mark , says they murmured against the worn- | an, and their words and manner were* | also a reflection on Christ Himself, ] because He had permitted it to occur. | 0. "A thief." Judas was bad at ( heart; he was playing the hypocrite. , "The bag." The cash-box in which the , funds of the small company were kept. , "And bare," etc. Not bare it off by ( theft, though that he did; but simply bad charge of its contents as treas- , urer. 7. "Let her alone." Christ was j indignant at the hypocrisy which made , a pretended consideration of the poor , an excuse for attacking and condemn- ( ing an act of love toward Himself. ( "Against the day of My burying." It , is not for nothing, as your reproaches i , suggest, that she has poured forth j this perfume. She has embalmed Me J beforehand. ] 8. "The poor always." This act of , Mary's will r.ot interfere with your < care for the poor. You can do good (o them at any time. "Me not always." 11 Christ's bodily presence was about to he removed from them. What they 1 did for Him must be done quickly. , IV. Curiosity and conspiracy (vs. 9-11). 9. "Of the Jews." John, who 1 was a Galilean, often gives the title of Jews to those who were inhabitants of Jerusalem. "Knew that He was 1 there." Large caravans would be coming up for the Passover from all por- . tions of the country, and the news would spread quickly throug' ihe ! shifting crowds that Jesus anc ^az- . arus were in Bethany. The result was J that many of them believed. 10. "Lazarus also to death." As long as he lived, they saw an incontestable proof of the divine power of Christ. 11. "Believed." The resurrection of Lazarus convinced many that Jesus was the Messiah. < ] Fifty Years a Town Clerk. ] At ? recent town meeting up in Canaan, Me., they elected J. Q. A. Butts town clerk for the fiftieth consecutive year. This is a remarkable record, i and quite likely it is without precedent in any other Maine town. But for no less a period than fifty years, a ] full half century, has Mr. Butts kept the records of his town among th? Somerset, hills faithfully and fully, entering therein all the births, marriages and deaths which make up the comedy and the tragedy of the life story of his community. Pat HI* LaPt 'Will in Hiiyme. "We get some queer wills here," said Deputy Register Stroup, of Harrisburg. Pa. "But here is one that h/tn+a omrtllincr T hflVP #?Vf>r kTlrtWTl ucaio uuj niiu? - *? * ~ ? ? ^ since I have been here." "When my wife's a -widow, of me be- . reft, , She shall inherit all I've left; 1 And when she's finished her career It then shall go to my daughter dear." , This remarkable document was duly attested and signed as a will, and as such was received for probate. , " " I; Seats For Car Drivers. ? Londoners are demanding seats for ;ramway conductors and drivers. r God't Invitation. The mercy of God is free, tut It ! not cheap. The "greatest of heresies if to deny God's will to save, but next H it is that other heresy which assert* that sin is no affront or trouble to God and involves no cost to Htm or to the man whom He forgives. The carelesa ?asy-going, morally indifferent deity ol 3ome men's thonghts is neither the Je? tiovah of the Old Covenant nor tha tieavenjy rauier 01 me new. j.*?? death of Christ is both God's protesl against sin and His proof of will to save the sinner, says Congregationalism When God invites there are no limits to His wish to help. The prophet rightly interprets God's thoughts when be uses the most inclusive of all pro< nouns, "Ho, every one." Yet in thef nature of the case there is a limit on Dur side in our deafre. % Water and bread are for the thirsty and hunger* ing; the invitation is for those who feel a heart's desire for what God gives. Even God cannot help the self-satisfied except by destroying their self-satisfaction that th^y may .seek His help. Christ both enlarged His mission and stated its necessary limitations when He said: "I am not come to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance." H The scribes and the Pharisees would never have enlarged the borders of God's mercy to include sinners they B iespised. And here is one of the ironies H ?f Christ, in speaking of the "right- H M)us" to men in whose idolized Scrip- H tures was the'ordinance and record of a continual sin-offering and whose ritual worship culminated in a day of H atonement for the sins of all the peo- H God's Invitation pledges satisfaction; {H to our hunger and thirst. Jesus re- M aewed the promise in like terms: "Blessed are they that hunger and vH thirst after righteousness, for tbey, shall be 011edWhat.the final satis- H faction 6f the soul in righteouunew I may be we Annot know: in the mean- El time we must take God's promise in B the terms of the image He Himself H has chosen. There is food for i;veryt m hunger. There is water for every; H thirst. How often did Christ say: "Ao- H cording to your faith, be lt unto you." Hj He who desires to be pure, shall bo H pure. He who longs to be honest, shall be true. He "who follows after love, H shall be loving. Ours Is an ever-pres- H ent, ever-helpful God from Whom the H renewal of our desires from day to day; H| obtains continually renewed provision^ SS Through this renewal of our daily; need and the experience of God's con- H| tinual provision come6 heart's rest We do not find our satisfaction because we have become like God through independence of all changes H In our life, but because we trust in I Him and He sustains us. God's invl- BE tation does not sever us from God,.it makes us cousciously His loving and B ? i.i Tir? /.MM HI Lu-uperauiig tuiiuiru. ???: uju wtc* be independent of His sustaining care; but faith and love make our dependence joyful. Work is transformed and HE patience glorified. For it is to .the^^H laboring and the heavy-laden that Bi Christ offers rest of heart. > Hfi r Saved to Serve. ImH A wonderful work has grown up In R a Liverpool factory entirely as the* result of one man's conversion during Hg the Torrey-Alexander meetings of last pear. One of the employes at the factory was a drunken fiddler, gambler and dancer named Thomas Johnson, BB He would frequently spend entire HH nights in drunken carousals, and wa? H|| considered a hopeless wreck by his friends. One day a workshop comrade Invited him to go to the meetings. He BB (vent, was gloriously converted; and; (vas filled with such ecstacy that he H }ould hardly stand upright upon. his MR feet. Three days later he and his comrade brought two Alexander hymn books and, with three others, treat I into a small room of the factory and ^Hj beld a song-service, followed by a-^H brief prayer-meeting. Other men Ib^H the factory heard the singing, and at Bfl the next meeting on the following day; H sight were present. Day by day the|^| meetings increased until half a hun-Hfl ilred were regularly attending them. Ihey formed themselves Into a chorus ^Hj and an orchestra, with the former^H irunken fiddler as the leader, and be*HE can to get out and conduct services inH| numerous missions, chapels, and^H crhurcbos throughout'Liverpool. Won-Msg ieriui Diessmg aueuutru men cuvlut^m find scores have been led to Christ through them. For a year daily ings have been held at the factory. When this happened the third time,M [ asked the young woman what it wai^^B that caused her to decide for Christ.^Bw She said: E^U "It is this way. I have been^ayingflHI to myself for several years that, if I^HI .' ould ever see a family that lived inHH the Christian spirit, I would become a^Hn Christian. Well, I came to this pIace,^H| ind from the first thing in the mornin^Mgj till the last thing at night, in the con^Hll iuct of the husband and wife towar<^HII ?ach other, in the relation of the daugbfl||I *?' norinfe flnrl <n th<^HIl Ltria IU iiiui |/U4vuw| relation of each of them to me theroEa! was about it all something so kind, s<S|ll considerate, and so Christian that ^^ 1 felt that I must go oack on my prom^HI [so to myself or at once become That is {];e kind of Christian mony I like to see. mil The Inevitable Cbriat. One person we cannot avoid?the evitable Christ: one dilemma we.mug^Bflg face. "What shall I do with Jesu^JH which is called Christ?"?Ian Mac^pfl Quality of Thinking. ^HD Real character, is not outward coi^H rluct. but quality of thinking. ThHuB l 1.1 -< *i,~ n.noi IV, nr.lnr nllig leucuiiJX ui iiivr viicuc this point was'positive, but the worlHH has ignored its scientific exactness.-^^H Henry Wood. HBM Two Thonght*. BBBglBi Consecration is obedience plus iove.MH| Genuine goodness is ihe most unco^^HH scious of itself: "Lord, when saw Thee an hungered: '?From Sermon Frank Crane in Union Church, Worce^HHll ter. Mass. sZ&lj A Concert In a Well. JnSBll As the "water supply in the HunflMM|j illage. of Woolley (England) ran shoi-HSI] i well was sunk. To celebrate tl^bJll ?vent a gathering took place at tl^Efll jottorn of tiie well?before the wat^Hll ,vas let in. HBH Married SiJxty-oIne Tears. Mr. and Mrs. Jefferson Gragg, wlM auk among the oldest settlers of Atc^ES son County, Kansas, celebrated tfaeJBffi ixty-ninth wedding anniversary at lome of their son, Bishop Gragg, tlu'HR niles northwest of Lancaster.