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| LITTLE MAI I | A CHILD OF || :,;:;:byb. l.f CHAPTER XII. 1 Continued. The colored Christmas candles, which "were fixed in every safe and convenient spot, the flags, the holly and mistletoe, to say nothing of the good cheer which warmed the children's miserable little bodies, converted this room on the first floor into a very palace of enchantment. Then when dinner was cleared away there were games; then there was a huge Christmas tree; then marched in a fiddle and a harp?with mortal todies attached to them, of course, tho rort-nnsprl man who nlaved The fiddle and the moon-faced man who played the harp might really have been regarded as superfluities, for on such a night the harp &nd the fiddle jwould certainly have played of themselves if they had been allowed. Then there .was dancing! Such dancing! It required to be seen to be believed, and even then the observer might reasonably have doubted the evidence of ids senses. The wild steps, the eccentric steps, the jig steps, the double shuffle steps, the solemn way in which some went round and round and did nothing else all the time the music played, and sometimes when it didn't, the ecstatic ;way in which some kept their eyes fixed upon the ceiling, the extraordinary way in which they got mixed and the extraordinary efforts which had to be made to disentangle them, the airs ' i-LlUl bOLLifc? &UVt; uieiuscitco 1U UUIIUtion of their betters?truly it had to be see to be believed. ( Then til ere were tea and cake, then there was more dancing, then there were lemonade and more cake, then there was a distribution of toys?and then it was ten o'clock at night, and ' time to break up. i But before they broke up there was a surprise. At one end of the room there was a row of candles which had not been lighted all the night, and behind this row of candles was a long j strip of green calico stretching down- 1 ward about a foot from the celling. Walter and Thomas Dexter, standing on chairs, lighted the candles, and dexterously whisked away the strip of 1 green calico, and there, in letters cut ' out of golden paper, was revealed the legend, "God Bless Our Dear Little 1 Make-Believe." She trembled all over when she saw ' it, and covered her face with her J hands, but she could not hide her ^ amotion, for her full heart forced the 3 +VlWA11 H"Vl 1"! At* fln CP/\T?C? icaiO lULUU^U UU UU^^io. And. when Mr. Deepdale "went up to ' her and kissed her, and ,when Thomas . Dexter did the same, and when Walter kissed her and held her hand in his? ' and when Saranne threw her arms ' around the faithful girl's neck and -sobbed on her shoulder, and when the children?very few of whom could read, but all of whom knew that 6he ;was the one whom they had chleliy ' *0 thank for the happy night they had spent?clung to her frock, and looked 1 wistfully up into her tear-stained face, 1 and pulled her down to her knees so that they might embrace her too?it { needed all her self-control to prevent ( her passion of thankfulness from becoming hysterical. But she knew that that would spoil all, and that some of the children might suppose her heart was filled 1 ;with pain instead of joy; so, thinking? * as she had ever done?of others, and 1 not of herself, she looked round, her i Uins milvprinsr with smiles, and kissed this one and that one, murmuring as the did so: ! "Oh, how good you are to me! How Sood you are to me!" CHAPTER XIII. From Darkness to Light, v It was past midnight, and Thomas Dexter and Little Make-Believe were sitting up alone. Walter and his father and Saranne liad gone to bed, and Little Make-Believe would have accompanied her sister had it not been that it was necessary to do certain work in the way of clearing up, so as to prevent disorder on the following day. This work being done, Little MakeBelieve was about to wish Thomas Dexter good night when he asked her to sit up with him for a few minutes. rve 501 a strange ieenng on me 10night," be said, " and I don't seem as if I want to go to bed for awhile. Let's set up and talk a bit." She cheerfully complied, and they 6at together talking of the events of the happy night, and then drifted into recalling reminiscences of the past The old man had been much moved by the children, and more so by Little Make-Believe's sweetness. He had related to her the principal events of his life, and she was surprised to learn that he had been married; she had never heard it. "It was afore you was born," he said. "If it happened that I'd become a father, my child would have been two or three years older than you. It jwas a lucky thing for all of us, perhaps, that my wife didn't have a baby. Shall we make a bargain, Make-Believe, you and me?" "I am willing to do anything yer want, Mr. Dexter." "In the course of nater," he said, "I can't cxpcct to live many more years; I'm near seventy now. but, old as I < am. it seems to me that I'm only just ] beginning to learn things. You've ! been a great comfort to me, Make- ] Beliere; I don't know now how I : should get along without yer. Will i yer look upon me as yer father; and let c:e take you as my daughter? i Then I shall be sure of yer! Yer I don't answer me, Make-Believe. Is 1 there anything wrong in what I've said?" 1 , Oto. sir; it's more than kind of yer. jm *11 - ?!*! KE-BELIEVEI i THE SLUMS. | ARJEON. :.:::: JJJJ and I'd say yes at once if It wasn't for Saranne, When she's married to Walter I don't think she'd care for me to live away from her; and if she's .willing, and if Walter's willing, that 1 should stop with them. I wouldn't leave them, I wouldn't leave them for tfife world." "You mean that they'd want a better place than this to live in." "Yes, I think they'd be sure to.""Well, then, what I would have to do would be to give up my shop, and ask them to find room for me; then I shouldn't lose yer." "If that could be arranged, sir. I'li consent, sir, most -willingly. After all you've done for me, it 'ud be ungrateful to refuse; and it 'ud be a pleasure to wait on yer. Is that the wind, or is It somebody knocking at the street door?" "It's the wind; there's a big storm coming." He .walked to the window, and drew the blind aside. The storm was not coming; it had come. It was snowing furiously. Tm sure, Mr. Dexter," said Little Make-Believe, listening intently, "that somebody's knocking at the street door." He listened, and the wind happening t0 lull at that moment, they both heard a violent rapping at the door below. "HI go and see who It Is. It's a strange time for a visitor." He took a candle and went to the door, followed by Little Make-Believe. He did not draw the bolts, but called out: * 1 ' * TTJUU D UiCiCi "I .want Mr. Dexter," answered a voice without. "I'm Mr. Dexter; wliat do you want of me?" "I must speak to you at once. !Det me in." "Not likely, at this time of night. What's yer business?" "Business of life and death. Tour wife's dying, and you must come to tier at once." "My wife! Dying!" gasped Thomas Dexter, and he drew the bolts. As he opened the door the wind lashed in fiercely and almost blew him jff his feet. The man entered quickly, and shut the door behind him. His story was soon told, Polly Cleaver lay dying two miles away, and bad a secret to tell her husband which [t was more than his soul was worth not to hear. "The doctor says she hasn't two hours to live," said the man. "I yvill come with, yer," said Thomas Dexter; his face was white and his limbs were trembling. "Make-Believe, will yer stop up for me till I come back?" "Yes, Mr. Dexter," she replied- "Go -go, tills very minute!" She assisted him with his overcoat, md handed him his hat. "Don't let them know upstairs," he said, and then he went into the storm tvith the messenger. Little Make-Believe did not bolt the loor. He took the key, and locked it jutside. Listening a few moments for the sound of their footsteps, which it was impossible for her to hear amidst the howling of the wind, even if the pavements had been hard and firm, instead jf being covered an inch thick with, snow, she returned to the room above, ind thought over what had passed. It was all so confusing that she could scarcely understand it; only one feeling was clear to her?pity for the dying woman and for the man who was in his way to her deathbed. To die upon Christmas night, after being parted all these years! It .was Ireadful?dreadful! She crept softly to her sister's room; Saranne was sound asleep. She listened outside the bedroom of Mr. Deepdale and Walter; their regular breathing came to her ears; they aad not been disturbed. Then she returned again to the sitting room. A secret which it was svorth more than his soul was worth not to hear? What could it be? How white his face was as he went )Ut! What an ending to their happy light! She hoped it was nothing bad?nothing that would hurt him. What was that? Only the clock striking. One >'clock. "He'll be a long time gone," she thought; "I '11 try and read a bit" But she could not fix her attention m the book, though it was full of ?itcures. How the storm was raging .without! She hoped Thomas Dexter would get there safely, and in time to hear what tiis dying wife had to say to nim. She rose and walked softly about the room; drew the curtain from the winlow and looked out. The falling of the snow was like a silent voice, but there .was nothing peaceful in it. The white flakes were whirled hither ind thither by the cruel wind. A black figure was passing on the joposite side of the road; a black fig lire, Huddled up, with its arms tightly folded. It was a woman, and there seemed to bo something despairing in her motions. "Poor thing! poor" thing!" thought, sr rather spoke. Little Make-Believe. tier sympathy for human suffering was 50 keen. "Perhaps she ain't got a home to go to, or a bed to lay on. Poor thing! poor thing! Dear God, take pity on her!" Her eyes were suffused with tears is she reflected that, but for such kind' friends as she had, she might have been like that poor woman. "Dear God, dear God, take pity on lier!" she murmured again and again. Lonz after the black figure was out, of eight she sfbod at the window, men* tally following and sorrowing for it The clock struck again. Half-past one. She let the blind fall, and sat at the table, with the open book before her. Why was it that as she sat, with her head resting on her hand, the love for her sister's lover, which she had striven so hard to kill, should once more rise within her to torture her? She would not permit it?no. she would not think of him in that way. It was a sin against love itself?It was a sin against God! She shook her head angrily, and her eyes wandered round the room as if seeking for strength to conquer this enemy. .Presently sue sans on ucr sukks, iiuu. with her face buried in her hands on a chair, prayed with all the might of her bruised and innocent heart to be forgiven for the sin. And prayer brought comfort to her. Gradually she became more composed, and closed her eyes, not intending to sleep, but the fatigue of the day, and of many previous days, told on her, and with a prayer in her mind she fell asleep. The striking of the clock as it struck two, then half past, did not awaken her. What was it. then, that seemed to stop the beating of her heart and at the same time aroused her to consciousness? There was something moving in the house! Where did the sound come from? From tbe sleeping rooms of Saranne or Mr. Deepdale? No; the sound proceeded from be'ow. Could it be that while she slept Thomas Dexter had returned? If so, what motive had he in creeping up the stairs so slowly and cauttnnsiv. ns thoueh he was a thief? Nearer, nearer came the sound of muffled footsteps! Terror transfixed her; she could not move; she tried to call out, but her voice stuck in her throat. " Nearer, nearer it came; the creeping mystery -was in the passage outside! Its hand was on the handle of the door, which slowly, slowly opened, and the Horror stood before her! It was the form of a man, with black crape over his face. He saw her, and glided swiftly to her side and grasped her shoulder as she knelt. "Don't move! Don't stir! Don't raise your voice!" And she knew that this midnight thief was Foxey. With this knowledge her courage returned, her voice was restored. "For God's sake, what brings yon here?" "You," he answered, drawing the crane from his face: "but I didn't think to find yer up." She thrust his hand from her shoulder, and rose to her feet, but spoke, as he spoke, in a whisper. "And now that yer have found me up kill me, and go!" She held her arms outstretched, and waited for the blow. "No," he said, slowly, "It ain't you I've come to kill; but I'll have the life of two afore I go. After that I don't care what becomes of me." "What two? Do you hear? What two? You wicked monster! What two? Are yer too* much of a coward to answer me?" "Call me what yer like; it don't matter. I love yer, Make-Believe, and no man shall have yer but me. What two? Yer two lovers. I'll kill 'em, and swing for it!" "My two lovers!" "Yes, yer two lovers?old Dexter and young Walter Deepdale." Then she knew that she was safe and that she held him in her power. "My lovers! Mine! Mr. Dexter's got a wife living?no, not living?dying as we stand here, and he's gone to see her on this blessed Crhistmas night, for the last time! He arksed me to be his daughter not two hours ago, and he's got no feeling for me that a father migntnt ixive lor ms cnuu. on, ^ u*ey, Foscey, that you should think me so bad and so mean as to take up with a man who's got one foot in the grave!" "I bejieve yer; I'll let him pass. But the other one?Walter Deepdale; yer can't say as much for him." "I can say more for him. He's my sister's lover, and they're going to get married. Look me in the face and see for yerself if I'm telling lies." He gazed at her steadily; he saw the truth in her eyes. "And he don't love yer; Make-Believe ?" To be continued. A "Blizzard" of Bailroiid Accidents* There was a kind of blizzard of railroad accidents last month. The average daily allowance of victims con ceded to tiie ranroaas or tne unueu States may be computed from the Statistical Report of the Interstate Commerce Commission for 1902. For every day In that year the American railroads killed one passenger, eight employes, and fourteen other persons, and injured eighteen passengers, 140 employes, and twenty other persons. That makes a dally average of about twenty-three homicides and one hundred and seventy-seven injuries. Of course such an average as this would not be maintained except by very unobtrusive methods. If we had one railroad accident a day In which twenty-three persons were killed and 177 injured, it would not go on a month without creating a strong impression that our railroads were extravagant in their consumption of human life. Last month this impression began to be felt because the railroads did a good deal of killing and maiming by wholesale.?Harper's Weekly. The Pleasure of Old Ac*. Free from the distractions of life, the apod are at leisure to observe and aduiiiv. "I never knew," said Coruaro. "that the world was beautiful uutil 1 reached old age." Tliis period was frequently declared by him to be the most beautiful of his life. Writing at the age of ninety-one, he said that he felt it his duty to make known to the world that man could attain to an earthly paradise after the age of eighty; but only by means of the two virtues, selfrestraint and temperance. At that time he was writing eight hours a day, walking and singing many other hours, enjoying the beauties of nature, and abundant in labors for the good of mankind?Good Health. \ PRINCE FREDERICK WEDS First Son of German Emperor Takes Duchess Cecilia as Bride. CEREMONIES IN ROYAL CHAPEL Royalty Gathers in Berlin to Do Honor to the Occasion ? Ritual ol the Lutheran Church Used ? Description of the Sorvlces ? Wedding Gown of the Bride an Elaborate Affair Berlin, Germany. ? Crown Prince Frederick William and the Duchess Cecilia of Mecklenburg'-Schwerin were married liy Dr. Dryander, the court chaplain, in the small chapel of the palace at 5 o'clock in the afternoon according to tin? ritual of the' Lutheran Church, which is the same for a prince as for a subject. About half of the 400 persons present were princes or special ambassadors of other countries with their aides-de-camp. Ambassador Tower was present as the extraordinary am uassauor ior me unneu Mates, .urs. Tower was with hi id. The other guests were the diplomats accredited to this court, the members of the Cabinet, generals and admirals. "When Chancellor von Buelow took his place in the chapel he received the quiet congratulations of those about him on his'elevation to princely rank by Emperor William. Hoynlty Prc?ent. After the other persons were in their places the visiting members of royal families entered. Especially distinguished among them were the Archduke Fransj Ferdinand of Austria, representing Emperor Francis Joseph; the Grand Duke Michael of Russia. Prince Henry, consort of the Queen of the Netherlands; the Duke and Duchess of Aosta, representing the King and Queen of Italy; Prince Arthur of Conuaught, representing.Great Britain; Prince and Princess Albert of Belgium, the Duke of Oporto, representing Portugal; UrlnrtA irnmllnntwl ^ f* pAiimnnin i.nr? JL I1UV.L' X' CIUllllUlU UL X^UUUIUliJ*l ilUU tlie Crown Princes of Denmark and of Greece. The junior members of the house of Holienzollern followed, and finally came the Emperor and Empress. Crown Prince Frederick William entered by a side door of the chapel and waited at the altar for the Duchess Cecilia, who, on the arm of her brother, the reigning Grand Duke of Meckleuburg-Schwerin, and followed by ladies and gentlemen-in-waiiing. had left her rooms in another part of the palace and passed through a long corridor hung with pictures illustrating the glory ot' the house of Hohenzollern,among them being battle scenes of the time of Frederick the Great and the coronation of Emperor William I. at Versailles. The WecJrtlnR: Gown. The duchess wore a -wonderful train of silver brocade made at Moscow and the gift of the Grand Duke Michael. It was borne by two pages. The embroideries on the train, which was nearly fourteen feet in length and seven feet wide, were done after the designs of Professor Doepler in pink and silver. The corsage was cut low and trimmed with lace. The veil was of old Brussels laco of great delicacy and beauty. She wore a tiara and the broad blue ribbon of the Grand Star of the Luisen Order, bestowed on her by the Emperor. The Crown Prince wore the light blue uniform of a major of the First Foot Guards, with red and white facings. Across liis breast was the light blue ribbon of the Wendische Crown, the highest decoration of the dukedom of Mecklenburg-Schwerin. He also wore the Frussian Order of the Black Eagle. The Service*. The service began with the cathedral choir, high up in the circular gallery around the dome of the chapel, singing in double quartet, "He Shall Give His Angels Charge." It is the privilege of the pastor, according to the Lutheran rite, to read either one of the several admonitory addresses to the bridal couple or to make one of his own. Dr. Dryander elected to lay aside the book, taking as his subject the Book of Ruth. Chapter I., verses 1(1 and 17. beginning: "For whither thou goest I will go." Dr. Dryander spoke briefly on the beauty of love, the large responsibilities resting on the youthful pair, their need for the support of faith and spiritual vision. The pastor then asked His Imperial Highness if he took out Df God's hand to have and to hold according to God's word and will Her Highness Cecilia. The Crown Prince answered "Yes." The same question was addressed to the duchess, with the additional question of "and obey," to which she also answered "Yes." These were the only responses. The ings were then exchanged and the oride and groom knelt while Dr. Dryinder read the liturgical prayer closin? :he ceremony, which had taken exactly rwcnty minutes. 3IGH TRICE FOR FIRST EDITION. Big Offer For Discovery of Shakespeare's '"Richard III." Refused. London. England.?A copy of the first edition of Shakespeare's "Richard III.," only three copies of which are known to be extant, was discovered accidentally among a lot of old. unvalued books in a private house at Great Missenden. The Sothebys offered ?S00 to the woman owning the book, but she refused it. It has been insured for ?1000 for exhibition. RELIC OF PRESIDENTS SOLD. Chair Used by Washington and Jackson Changes Owners. Nashville. Tenn. ? Colonel Andrew Jackson lias sold the old Washington chair, a prized relic of President Jackson. to the Mount Vernon Association for 87500. This chair was willed by General Washington to his family physician, Dr. C'raik, and members of the j C'raik family gave it to General Jack5?i! BOMB FACTORY FOUND. Russian Police fceize Sixty Infernal Machines at Riga. Riga, Russia.?The police discovered a bomb factory in the Phoenix Foun#li*r Sivtr hntnlw woro cnivofl oe wdII | as a number of revolvers and daggers, i Peace Rumor in St. Petersburg. In St. Petersburg, xiussia, a sensational rumor was current that Franco liad agreed to ask the Powers to take concerted action to establisn peace. | TM7GBEAOESIEOf.EE SOME STARTLING FACTS ABOUT THE VICE OF INTEMPERANCE. I . A Remarkable Editorial From the Next York American Entitled "The Prisoner of the Bottle"?The Drunkard May Be Cnred by Sympathy and Forslyenei# Let temperance reformers remember always that the man who loathes iwhisky most intensely is whisky's victim. | There never was a clear, cold-headed teetotaller that hated whisky, despised it or knew its dangers one-balf as thor. pughly as the unhappy, hopeless | tlrunkard. - He don't theorize. Whisky has (lashed him with scorpions-; it has iupicted upon him physical pain and endless moral suffering. It has dug the grave of his hopes and ambitions, one after tbe other. It has cursed those whom he loves, killed his manhood, and left in place of all his early possibilities only a trembling, uncertain, fearful wreck. >v iiiSKj, you -must rememucr?nornu as it is?brings oblivion for tbe moment. .Jle that must go under tbe surgeon's knife will have chloroform. To the drunkard, whisky is the chloroform that saves him from the knife of conscience. It is the expedient, ever at hand, that solves the problem of the moment. E The drunkard would like'to leave the c bottle that has made him a prisoner g for so long. But how can he do it? The past is a dreadful nightmare, t with its follies, weaknesses, resolves j broken, manhood degraded. The future is full of unknown ter- t rors. Each succeeding week has made t him less able to fight and more de- 3 pendent upon the poison. And he t knows it, although ho may not con- ? fess it. a Only the man whose nerves have ac- g tually lived upon whisky has any idea of what it means to give whisky up. t It is easy for you to preach to him?but v suppose he should ask you to give uy t iooar zou nugnt iry n lor oue uu.v, r two days, or tliree days. If you yielded f to temptatiou on the fourth day, iu t spite of all your firm Intention, you would expect kindly sympathy and d consideration. j Hunger, could not make you want d food any more than the famished f nerves, trembling will, vague terrors, c constant temptation make the victim a of drink want alcohol. o You should plan to cure the drunkard, by all means?work at tile task, o never, give up, whatever the disap- t polntments. t But go about your work Intelligently, s and above all sympathetically, with t kindness, not with reproaches or any a "holier-than-thou" feeling. e Remember that to stop drink requires c an effort of the will?a very great effort t ?one that the sober man cannot con- s ceive. t And that effort must be made by the b drunkard himself. You can't make it t for him. All your fine moralizing, s scolding, bullying and contempt are in t your brain?not in his. t The drunkard's will alone can cure E I-1? /* lintr* Mm li you must strengthen that "will. c In what does will power consist? t what does it*ed upon? p First, on good health, strong nerves, r The man of iron nerve is the man of f iron will?and whisky, alas! doing its C devilish work so intelligently, destroys li the nerves and the will first of all. If you would cure a man of drink by t strengthening his will, try to give him I health, without which the nerves can- b not resist the abnormal craving. f Good food, a great deal of it, comes li first in this task?poverty causes more b drunkenness than all other causes com- a bined. The bad cooking of insufflckst n food brings more whisky into poor a homes than any cause save worrypoverty's other curse. f To help a man stop drinking, first P help him to build up his health. Mauy b a man has been cured of drunkenness b by a protracted life in the open air, 1< with plenty of exercise, simple food ^ and long sleep. Q Another thing most important in the f building up of will power is the stimu- ^ lating of ambition. * Human beings do ihat which pleases 1 hpm hf?st. e If you can actually give a man any- B thing that he likes better than whisky, A he will take that instead of whisky. & Above all, if you would cure a human e being of drink by helping the will, v give to that human being constant * syraapthy, endless kindness. Remein- d ber that you are asking that which is jj almost impossible, and which only a * miracle of the will or the affections can possibly accomplish. 1 True affection, sympathy, have done f3 more in this world o:n a big scale and * a little scale than all other agencies? J despite the assertions; of philosophical ? historians that morals have not influ- b enccd civilization. The religion that 8 rules the world is based simply 011 kindness?it has no other motive power. 11 Who can doubt that the woman ? whom Christ forgave?blameless as He | b was?was a new woman from that j r hour? P As He cured that woman of disease t worse tlinn drink, bv affection, svmpa- c thy and forgiveness alone, so that ? drunkard can be cured?by long pa- 1 tience, persistent effort, by kindness on ' your part as great as the fearful craving on his. c Young men, he sure that you leave ? whisky aJone. If you don't like it very much, or?as you might say?"don't care much one way or the other." then you would he a fool not to drop it. Keep the poisonous trash out of your system, keep the money in your pocket, * spend the hours in your bed or at work ?not deceiving yourself in the stupid F waste of time that accounts for all the ! wrecks in life. * Be able to say: "I gave myself a ? chance, anyhow."?New York Ainer- . ican. Teinpprancn JToten. The Pittsburg jail is now being doubled in size. This is the way the taxpayer is providing for the product c of the saloon. s Within 2000 miles of Chicago is a t town of li-'OO people; thirty-seven sa- t loons and not a church. "The devil t rides on horseback, bat Christianity c goes afoot." Chicago has SOOO saloons, according j to the Chicago Tribune, and it costs J the city 84.12.".000 annually to pay for 1 the consequences of its share in per- I T\Qf-i?.itm?T rim drink trnfttrv Xr> ic-j:!.-can bargain away public health. or :Jst* public moral?. The people themselves cannot do it j, much less their servants. ^ Latest reports of statistical bureau, ti 11)03. give the present per capita con- a sumption of alcoholic beverages in the d United States at 10.1K) gallons a year, c Two-thirds of this nation is sober, the other third is staggering under enough , liquid poison to float it. The sober two-thirds are supporting tin- drunken third and are becoming more and <= more tired of their job. How can any c nation prosper with every two men E carrying a drunkard on their backsV? ' Christian Endeavor World. MM J& lltoCbJM& SANCTUARY. Low at Thine altar, Lord most high, I claim the ancient right To lay my battered harness by * And trust Thv sacred might; The foes, who follow on the track My feet in fear have trod, Hold from Thy silent threshold back: Give Sanctuary, 0 God! Wounded and weary to the death I pass Thy temple doors. Behind me murder pants for breath. The hum of battle roars; But where the peaceful candles shin/ And drowsy censors nod, Here in the stillness of Thv shrine Give Sanctuary, 0 God! Within the shelter of Thy walls The tumult fades away, The wonder of the Presence falls About our hearts who pray, Faint in the distance dies the din Of legions iron shod; From vengeance at the heels of sin Give Sanctuary, 0 God! ?C. 0. Emra, in The Polit. The Humility of Faith. "Lord, I am not worthy that Thou ihoHldest come under my roof; but ?nly say the word, and my servant hall be healed." The faith of which these words are he utterance was so great that the jord -wondered at it, and exclaimed: 'I have not found so great fa'"' no tot in Israel." It may be of oei vice o those who desire to come to faith, t who long for a stronger faith than hey have hitherto had, to examine arefully the faith of the centurion, Jid to observe the soil in which that ;reat faith struck its roots. The soil s?deep humility. This man who, alhough he belonged to tha Gentiles, eas praised by the Jewish elders as ? e t -v.-.? VUILUJ UJ- liitT liVlUS JLU V \JL f UUU. WiiUUC aith surpassed all that the Lord had ound in Israel?this eminent man is he only ?ne of whom we read, durog Jesus' sojourn on earth, that he Lid not consider himself worthy that esus should enter his house. Wonterful humility in such a hero of aith. We learn from this the most Qomentous lesson?that deep humility nd strong faith are ltnit to one another by the closest bonds. Out of humility springs faith. Then trst, when the soul fully acknowledges hat it has nothing, and is also conent to receive favor as one that posesses nothing, does it cast itself on he free grace of God, and receive it s one that believetb. In the acknowldgement of its nothingness it does lot dare to contradict God with its houghts of unworthiness, with its deIre still further to bring this or that o perfection. It feels that, since it las pleased such a great God to say hat He is prepared to show compaslon to the poorest and most wretched, hen nothing becomes it better than a be silent and suffer Him to manifest lis love. It knows, moreover, that t is so deeply coi-rupt that it can tever of itself become better, and on *_ J i. 11- J.llU 1 ~ 1U ~ U A ms account us iaiui is jusi iut> urai roof of its humility; it is from the ecognitlon 1 of its utter helplessness, rom its knowledge of the fact that it an never become better, that it casts tself on the will of God. This* is an entirely different state of aind from that of all such as imagine hat humility comes out in not believag; as if there could be humility in raiting till something has been found a us that could make us more acceptble to the Lord than we really are; s if there, could be humility in giving 0 obedience to the command of God ctually to believe. Nay, verily. And just as perverse Is the idea that aith will at any later period lead to ride. No; faith, as it springs from umility, will in turn only increase umility. It was because the centurjn by faith recognized Jesus as wieldag over nature a power which could ot by any circumstance be prevented rom healing the sick by His mere rord, that he felt himself to be unrorthy of having Him in his house, 'he more glorious the revelation and xperience of the Lord's greatness and oodness which faith enjoys, the more eeply does it sink in self-abasement nd In lowly acknowledgment of the ondescension by which such a God uneils Himself to such a sinrnr. And hus it always continues to be: the 1 * ??fK anrl :eeper iiuimm^ iue mua- j.uhu. uuu gain, the stronger faitli the deeper lumility. May the Lord teach us these truthshat there is no stronger proof of huaility, and also no better means of aereasing it, than just faith; and that, whether we feel ourselves deeply hummed or still desire to come to a deeper lumility, the one as well as the other hould only shut us up to faith. And now, soul, why do you not beieve? Are you still too unworthy? fou dare not say so. The deeper your lumility the stronger your reason and Ight for believing. Are you still too iroud? Ah, let it not be longer so. )nly bring yourself to the acknowledgaent of your entire weakness, and onfess that you are wholly lost; in he depths of your wretchedness yoi; fill see that there is no other remedy han to let the Lord help you, and to ommit yourself trustfully to the word f His grace.?The Rev. Andrew Muray, in Consecrated Life. There Liei the Danger. "William M. Taylor, speaking of what ie considers a hindrance to the progess of the church, says: "There are rorse things than persecution for Ighteousness' sake, and among these 3 the supple conformity to the world, he easy indifference which bends to very influence and has no principle of esistance in it. That way lies the [anger of the church to-day." Sunday School's Importance. Pastor Charles Wagner told the lergy of Philadelphia that the Sundaychool is the most important part of he church. "What happens to-day in he Sabbath-school," he said, "becomes o-morrow a part of the church. If Jergyinen carried ihe simplicity of tyle and thought which they are breed to use in the Sunday-school into heir preaching to adults it would be letter than the rhetorical style of teaching so often heard." I'rosichttr u? :i Breaker Boy. Working as a siatc* picker in the coal ireakers, near Wilkesbarr?, Pa.. Kev. )wen Lovelov. Secretary of the Naonal Child Labor Committee, has been b)e to obtain an insight into the coniitions of the breaker boys which he ould not otherwise have secured. Is a Teacher at Twelve Year*. Edith K. Drake, the twelve-year-old laughter of Mr. and Mrs. S. B. Drake, if Norristown, Pa., is the youngest Qusic teacher in Pennsylvania, if not q the United States. MMndaiuaHi . ' ?: ' -^^ 1 THE SUNDAY SCflOOM INTERNATIONAL LESSON COMMENT? FOR JULY 2. B Subject: Sennacherib's Invasion, IH Cbrcrn. xxzll., 9-28?Golden Text, IVH Cb ron. xxxil., 8? Memory Verses, l^-^H ?Commentary on the Day's Lesson* I. Sennacherib's defiant messageM| (vs. 9-19). 9. "After this." After r(^H ceiving the present from Hezeklah (^B Kings 18: 14-16). "Sennacherib." ThBj son and*successor of Sargon. He sayH| he built towers around Jerusalem an^K shut Hezekiah in "like a caged bird.*! "Assyria." This was a great and pc"^H erful country lying on the Tigris. ' It Hi boundaries differed greatly at differen^H periods. "Send his servants." See Kings. 18: 17. Tartan, or general; th^B rabsaris, the chief of the eunicbs; antHj the rab-shakeh, the chief cup-bearenBj these being the offices which thei^K uuuiea iuipiyt wini a great nosr. of these are proper names. TartaiBj was the ordinary title of an Assyriai^H general. They were to demand the un^H conditional surrender of the king nn^H capital. "To Jerusalem." Sennacheri^H was encamped before Lachish, thlrtj?| miles southwest of Jerusalem, seatet^E in state. From this proud position h^H sent a large detachment to JerusalemM| They took up their position on th<^H north of the city, on a spot long after^E wards known as the camp of the Assy-^B rians. Hezekiah feared to appear; oiMj perhaps, careful of his dignity, he senlBH officers of his court, who were neartf^H the rank of those sent. In his pIa<.-<X| camc Eliakim, now chief minlsterHj Shebna, now in the office of secretary^? and Joah, the royal "historian. "All hii^| power." All his artny. \H| 10. "Whereon do ye trust?" Liter-^B ally, "Whereon are ye trusting and sit-^| ting in restraint?" Judah was in.al^^H liance with Ecynt. Assyria's arth-en-^B emy; nnd reference is here made toH^ this. 11. "Doth not Hezekiah," Hex<Sj ekinh is abused most vilely nnd oyer^S whelmed with scorn and Insult. 12iH "Worship before one altar." Rab-sha-tH^ keli was not familiar with the Juwlsfc^B law, and h. naturally s. posed the destruction of so many altars* would incur the displeasure of then gods; but the reason he gave to provcH that Judab was weak was the'very re:i-B son why God was with them to inntcfH them strong. 13-15. "Know >> not'.jH etc. This boast was natural. The Aft-B syrlans had had su uninterrupted caV-H reer of success and might well bellcv^H that their gods were more powerful Iff than those of the nations around them H They had utterly over-run and de- H stroyed the kindred tribes of Galilee, H Gilead nnd Samaria. They had fci H years exercised lordship over Juder. B and the very king who now defie&M them had purchased bis safety by thefl| payment of a heavy fine. 16. "AgainstWI tie Lord." Hezekiah treated thisjH blasphemous speech as he ought. He.H refers the matter to Jehovah. In 17. "Wrote also letters." A little1,H later another insulting message In the |H ' form of "a letter" (R. V., margin) was B sent. The king took the letter and at H once went again to the bouse of theH Lord. He spread out the letter before the Lord and poured out liis soul In earnest prayer (2 Kings 19: 34-Ih Isa, 37: 14-20;. 18. "A loud voice." An aW lusion is here made to what occurred (2 Kings 18: 28-35) before Sennacherib wrote ills letter. ^ "Jews' speech." The Hebrew language. The Syrian language was not understood by the common people. "To affright them." It was a day of great suspense. Already there was a rumor that the king of Egypt was on his way to the rescue. Senacherib had heard the rumor, and it was this which caused him to put forth every effort to intimidate Jerusalem into submission. 19. "Spake against," etc. They saw no difference between the Jehovah of the Jews and the gods of the other nations. II. Hezekinh and Isaiah call on the Lord (v. 20). 20. "Prayed." King Hezekinh rent his clothes and put on sackcloth and went to the house of God, while his messengers nought out the prophet Isaiah to know what to do. The prayer expressed the deepest need, the highest faith, the utmost earnest* oess, the wisest plea, the highest motive. It was united prayer, a prayer meeting. Isaiah Joined with Hezeklah. But they not only prayed, they worked. The king built walls and towers, and prepared arms and shields and encouraged the people to be strong and courageous, and not to be afraid of the Assyrian kiug, "for there be more with us than with him" (vs. 6, 7). III. The Lord destroys the AssyI rians (v. 21). 21. The word angel means "a messenger," "one sent," and may be applied to any messenger sent from God, tvhoever or- whatever that may be. Thus in Psa. 104: 4 the winds are said to be His angels or messengers. The use of the word "angel" here does not determine the manner in which the destruction was accomplished. It may have been a storm, a pestilence or flood. It is generally understood to have been the simoon. "Cut off." In one night God's messenger smote 185,000 men (2 Kings 19: 35). This gives some idea of the immense size of Sennacherib's army. "He returned." The kins and a few others were preserved. "0\Vn land." Nineveh. "When he was ffome." Just how long a time elapsed between this calamity and Sennacherib's death we do not know, but It was probably about twenty years. He records other campaigns, but he never again came to Palestine. "His god." Nisroch. "Slew him." "Adrammelech and Sharezer his sons smote him with the sword; and they escaped" (2 Kings 19: 37). IV. Hezekian is exalted (vs. 22, 23). These verses tell us that God not only saved His people from the hands of Sennacherib, but from all others and "guided them on every side." Many presents were nrougm to tiezeKian, and he was exalted in the sight of all. Wooden-Legged Hen as Teacher* A wooden-legged hen proudly strata about the premises of David Brubaker, near Mt. Joy, Pa., with as handsome a brood of chickens as if she had been the possessor of two natural legs dur? ing tbe laying, hatching and brooding periodsr. "Biddy" is the hen that lost one of her legs in an accident several months ago. and the Brubaker family assumed the benevolent uisk of rigging up a wooden leg in its place. "Biddy'* Is teaching the chicks just how to scratcn gravel in one-ieggea rasmon. Court Valued Chickens Too High. Because the trial court valued, rt New Orleans. La., two chickens at $2 each, the Louisiana Supreme Court has granted a new trial to (Jeorge Williams, who was convicted of stealing seven chickens. The owner of the fowls said they were worth $2 apiece, but the Supreme Court ruled that they were worth considerably less. Imperial Plowing. The Chinese Emperor sacrificed, to the God of Agriculture by personally plowing a portion of the ground In front of the altar, as a proof that the profession of agriculture is an honorable one.