The Abbeville press and banner. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, August 02, 1905, Image 2
" THL
Richard
A VICTIM OF CIRCUIT
B37- 33- L. IF
CHAPTER V.
.., Continued.
With nay thoughts lixetl upon the ap
* i" ?>" <?n <r\ 1 u-.nwllil-PlI
pruacuiug aisia 111 ui.? imv.
from inj' htuse, scarcely heeding Uie
direction in which 1 was walking. 1
.wished to be alone to indulge in iuy sad
musings, wtiieu must have so occupied
my mind that 1 must have walked for
an hour before 1 knew where l was.
The gathering gloom recalled me to
myself, and looking around, i saw ihat
1 was in lvybush Lane. It did not and
would not have struck me that this
jvas the place in which Siimuel Fleetwood
had informed me tbut Mile. .Rosalie,
was in the habit ol' meeting some
unknown man had it not been that
my eyes suddenly fell upon her as 1
gazed around. She was standing at
some little distance l'roin me, and 1
must nave come upon her and her companion
unaware?lor she was not alone:
a man was with her whom 1 immediately
recognized to be Redwing. Moreover,
she was in that man's embrace.
His arm was around her and he was
kissing her iips at the moment of my
approach. They saw me as 1 saw
them, and they fell npart from each
other. Without a word I turned and
proceeded in tlie direction of my house.
; Now, at any ether time 1 should have
regarded this discovery as serious, and
should not have allowed it to pass
Without asking Mile. Ro<?alie for an
explanation, but I ana constrained to
confess that in my then mood 1 attached
but small importance to it. In
what way did Mile. Rosalie's love intrigues
affect me and why should 1
add those to my already overpowering
anxieties? That was the sense in
ovhich 1 viewed the adventure. Rut if
I didJnot speak to Mile. Rosalie of the
.incident, she did not allow it to pass
by in silence.
It was night. Harry Clanronald had
taken his leave and my wife and
Eunice had retired to bed. Mr. Mortlock
had also retired. As for Mile.
Rosalie, she had not made her appearance
in our family circle.
My wife and 1 beiug in our bedroom,
I said that 1 was not inclined for bed
and that 1 would take a stroll in the
'.garden and smoke a cigar. There wasr
'-nn+hint* iinnonnl in thic 1 hnfl nftpn
JUUIUIU^ UltUOUUi AAA IU1W, J. V. w?
done the like.
She bade me go and smoke my cigar,
land handed me my cigar case, which
1 should have forgotten in my perturbation.
The case was one which she
had presented to me in former years,
and on its cover was my monogram,
"K. P.," in raised letters of silver.
CHAPTER VI.
, 'The night was dark, and 1 heard no
'.sound but that of my footsteps on the
graveled paths. Gradually 1 became
more composed; the surrounding peace,
the soft air, and the echo of my wife's
.words of comfort had their soothing
effect upon me. "Surely all will be
well!" 1 thought. "1 am tormenting
myself unnecessarily."
' Suddenly I heard a sound that
startled me; it was the sound of a
ftAKkinr*. ft t'PAm
.WVLL1UU tl iUiui 5UUVU J-X V/*-?J n*w
;shadows, aiul, falling at my feet, seized
my hand, which became bedewed with
itears.
"Madamoiselle!" I cried.
For it was, indeed. Mile. Rosalie wbo
knelt at my feet and was holding my
band to ber Hps.
' "Pardon me," sbe sobbed; "oh, pardon
me!"
"Rise, I beg of yon," I said, murh disturbed.
"Why are you here? This is
no place, and this is not the time, for
;us to be seen together."
"We are alone, sir," she said, her
.sobs continuing. "No one can see or
hear us. Ab, sir listen to me! As
>ou hope for mercy yourself, grant it
to a despairing woman! As you hope
ior peace, bestow it upon me!"
* "I do not understand you," 1 said:
.and 1 should bavo had a li^rt of stone
in my breast had I uot been touched
by her plaintive voice. "1 will listen
to you?yes: 'mt I must insist upon
jour rising. *
She obeyed mo; but she trembled so
as she rose from the ground that she
was compelled to cling to me for support.
"Now, mademoiselle." I said, "1 will
Jisten to wiiat you have to say, il' yon
insist upon it."
"If you speak so harshly." slic murmured,
"1 sliall die!"
"I have 110 wish to speak fiarshly to
you," I said, in a more pentle tone.
"But 1 have a right to ask why you
eeek me at such an hour?"
"To implore your forgiveness." siie
replied, "to recover my place in your
^esteem. To know that you have ceased
.tn rpsnppt me. Ihnf vnn think llerhflv
of me, is more tiian 1 can bear. Your
good opinion, jour good word, is more
precious to me than life itself. All, sir!
How shall 1 confess itV 1 have deceived
you."
"I know it," I said.
"You know it!" she echoed, softly.
"And yet you have spared me! And
yet you have not driven me from your
house!"
"For that, mademoiselle,' I said, "you
may thank my wife and daughter, who
liave no suspicion that you are not
what you represent yourself to be. You
ihold a place in their hearts which you
Jiave in some strange manner won.
They have invariably spoken well of
yon; they have invariably defended
you!"
"Defended me!" she exclaimed, and
Iher voice expressed dignified remonstrance.
"From what? From whom?
iWtio has dared to villify me, a defenseless
woman, whose misfortunes
entitle her to respect? .Not you, sir,
r
"Pardon,,!
IS7MTIAL EVIDENCE
'J^E.jeo3ST.
not you! Do not tell me that you have :
done nie such an injustice"'
"Mile. Kosalie," I said, soaiewhat
confounded by the attitude she assumed,
"1 have learned that concerning
you which, i will not disguise i
l'rom you, has instilled doubts into my
mind; 1 have seen that which, you
must yourself admit, could not but
strengthen those doubts.''
"You saw me 111 is afternoon," she
murmured, "in a lone spo!. embracing 1
a man. '- '
"A man," 1 added, "who ;s now tyovking
for me in a menial capacity."
"I deny it!" she exclaimed, with indignation.
"No labor is menial which
is lionest. Js it not a proof how groatI}*
you are prejudiced against nie when
you can commit yourself to such a
statement ? you. whom I venerate as '
th? perscnitication of truth and justice?
Ah, sir, confess that you were
wrong V"
"Yes," 1 said, abashed by the reproof.
"I confess it?i was wrong. But neither
you nor he can deny that he is in my
employment under false colors."
"1 do deny it, for myself and him.
He sought for honest labor, and obtained
it. Js that a crimeV"
"No."
"What else can ycu bring against
him? You have not spoken to him, !
have scarcely seen him. and yet you,
(he most just of men, would blast his
character. It is not for you, living in .
the lap of luxury, with unlimited wealth
at your command, who have but to (
wish to have?it is not for you to know ,
to what hard straits necessity drives
a man. It is not possible that you (
should ever be .'riven, as he and
I have been driven, to seek, in a lonely .
int *jn<l .urmnsr strnnsrers. for the Sim- ,
pie necessaries oi' lil'e. It is not possi- ]
bio that you should ever feel the ,
world's cruel injustice as we have felt (
it; that the linger of shaine and re- 1
proach should be pointed at you?a inan
unstained by crime or dishonor! You j
stand above all this. Be merciful, be .
charitable, to those who are not as i
you are." I
Had a vision of the future risen before
me at that moment 1 should have 1
stood appalled. As it was, 1 was pow- 1
erfully affected by the appeal, and all I
my doubts of her seemed to melt i
away. '
"Mademoiselle," I said, "you have, '<
perhaps, reproved me with just cause.
But had 1 known that you had a 1
lover " '
"A lover!" she exclaimed, softly.
"Who dare say that'/" <
"A lover," I continued, "wliom for months
you have met in secret "
"It is false'" she cried. "As I am an <
honest woman, it is false! Cruel, cruel, t
that I should be so misjudged! There ?
ic 1-mt nno rnn-n in 1I10 world 'whom 1 1
Jove, to whroi my lieart ir? given, for
whom I would bear any hardship and
sacrifice; and to him 1 dare not, 1 dare
not confess my love."
Again she seized my hand, and in a
lit of uncontrollable agitation pressed
it to her bosom, to her lip?. And then
it was that 1 noticed, for the tirst
time, that she was but loosely attired
in her dressing gown, which she must ]
have hastily thrown on, 1 suppose, j
when she saw me from her bedroom
window and hastened out to make her
confession.
As she held my hand to her lips she
was seized with sudden faintness, 1
would have fallen to the ground had I 1
not supported her in my arms.
What was it that glided past? A |
shadow, or the form of a man, who,
with his eyes turned upon us for one i
brief moment, sped swiftly on, and
was gone?
"What was that?" asked Mile. Rosa- j
lie. in a whisper, clinging closer to me
in affright. .
"T /1/\ lint Irnnrr " 7 n in tl'.P
same key; and truly I did not. It was
like a spiritual beguilement. ,
"It must have been fancy," said
Mile. Rosalie, "a shadow?an apparition.
Yes. yes?see!"
A slight wind had risen, and the
branches of the trees, gently swaying,
cast shadows around, which a (
heated imagination could easily have
transformed into the shapes and forms .
of living creatures. 1 breathed more
freely; what 1 had seen could have
been nothing but a freak of fancy.
"It is time that we should part, mad- (
emoiselle," I said, cok-ly. "It would .
have been better had you spoken to me ,
in daylight."
"I should not have had the courage." j
she said. "You must not leave mo till
you hear who this man is who is falsely
represented as my lover. I feel '
that you are not alone in this belief; I
feel that another shares it."
"Yes," 1 said, thinking cf Samuel
Fleetwood, "my belief is shared by
another."
"Will jou teil me who that other is?" ,
"No; I do not think I have the right."
"At least, sir," she pleaded mourn- j
fully, "you will tell me whether it is a '
man or a woman who trad .ces me?" ,
I did not wish her to believe that it
was my wife or Eunice, and therefore
I replied, "I will tell you so much, and
no more, it was a man." j
"Will you see this man again, sir?" (
"I shall see him, almost to a certain- |
tv tn-mnvrnu' ''
"Toll liinj, then, sir. from mo, that '
the person lie suspects is my lover. !
and whom you saw me em brae ins this 1
afternoon, is mj' brother."' ]
"Your brother! It is a simple, nat- ]
ural explanation; but what reason \v;is ]
there for secrecy, for concealment V"
"I was fearful of giving you grounds 1
to suppose that I had deceived you. i
sir. I did deceive you, but it was an i
unconscious, an innocent deceit. When 11
rou first received mo in your lioti.so !
said I was an orphan, without a re!
five in the world. Tndeed. indeed. >
I believed that to be the uuha;
truth. My parents were dead, and
only brother I had was killed or. '
ramparts when the Germans besie-.
Paris. He was but ft lad at the ti.and
when they told me he was dor
had no reason to doubt them. But instead
ol having been killed lie wax
only wounded and taken prisoner, and
when lie was released he went t?
America, intending to make his for;
tune there and return and throw It in
my lap. He wrote to me, but I did nol
receive his letters. In America he wai
unfortunate. Trustful by nature. In
was robbed and deceived, and, withov.i
n penny in his pocket, he mad?; his way
to England, little dreaming that I was
in this country. His sad wanderings,
directed by fate, brought hi:u Uore?
here, where I had the happiness oC
finding a home and sympathizing
friends. We met by accident; my astonishment
was great; it was as if lie
had risen from his grave. "What was I
to do? I had solemnly assured your
fjood wife and da Tig liter that I was utterly,
entirely friendless, and through
them yon believed this to lie so. If I
now informed yon to the contrary 1
might be proclaiming my own death
warrant. You have said, 'Mademoiselle
Rosalie lias practiced treachery
toward us; slio presented herself
to us in a false light, and therefore
she is unworthy of our confidence: site
shall be dismised.' 1 was so harrowed
by the fear of iosing this happy home,
in which, after all my troubles, I had
found peace and rest, thai I had not
the courage to undeceive you: but
ufter what you have witnessed, sir,
this afternoon, I could no longer remain
silent. My honor, my good name,
was at stake, and it must he vindicated?for
what else have I left to
nerve and support me in the triais I
may yet have to endure? I could not
wait until to-morrow. About to seek
my couch, I saw you from my bedroom
window, and. blessing the chance,
1 hurried down to make my confession.
Forgive me. sir: forgive me! and assure
me that I have regained my
place in your esteem. 'Jell me you do
not despise me."
"If your story is true." I said, and
would have proceed?d hau she not interrupted
me.
"If, sir, if! Is it possible that you
Kin doubt rne still? I swear, upon
my knees, that 1 have spoken truly 1"
"Yon are to be pitied," I said, "not
ilespised." I saw i:o reason to doubt
her further. Two angels, my wife
md daughter, had full faith in h?r;
why should not 1? In what she bad related
there was not a flaw, there was
nothing contrary to reason or opposed
to the ordinary course of human motives.
"Say that you pardon me. sir," she
pleaded, "and give me your hand as
i token of forgiveness." I gave her
my hand, and she murmured, "I am
liappy. I am happy!"
The window of my wife's bsdioom
svas thrown up, and, by the aid ot' the
light within the chamber I saw the
figure of my wife, clad in white, looking
out upon the grounds. I had been
ibsent longer than she had expected,
:ind she was anxious about lr.r.
Richard!" she softly called; her voice j
ivas low and sweet, and fell distinctly
ipon my ears.
"Hush!" whispered Mile. Rosalie,
crouching behind me. "Do not speak
-do not move! She must not see me!"
It was perhaps foolish on my part to
)bey her, but I was dimly conscious '
liat an injurious construction might he
jlaced upon the circumstance of Mlie.
Rosalie and I being together at that
;ime ol' night; therefore I held my
:ongue. For si space of nearly a iniuite
my wife stood at the window, and
for that space neither Mile. Rosalie
nor I moved or spoke, she standing beJind
me, and clasping me, as if for protection.
Then the window was gently
closed and the blind let down.
"I am safe!' whispered Mil?. Rosalie,
iissing my hand humbly and gratefully.
"You will not betray me?you
will keep my secret?"
"It should l)o told," 1 sum, "to my
wife .and daughter."
"Lot me tell it to them," she said;
'let me choose 1 lie time! In two or
three days I shall have courage."
"As you will," I said, wishing to terminate
the interview. *
"And you will not discharge my
brother?"
"No."
I looked after her as she walked
through the shadows to tlie house,
which she entered in silence. Soon
;i ft or ward I followed. ?.Iy wife was
still awake.
"It is a beautiful night, Richard,"
she said. "Did you enjoy your cigar?"
(To be Continued.)
A Boston Suffffestion as to Etiquette.
Do you think it might help to decrease
the cases of pneumonia in our cold
country if the leading ladies hereabouts
would say that during the winter season
men might omit the customary
ill tiHK Ol liifiL lunft 111 1111; onvct >i iivu
bowing to them?
In a town in Sweden tlie respectful
[iofiing of the hat lias been declared
unnecessary through the winter season
by prominent ladies?but there a
gentleman will insist on having his hat
in his hand during his conversation
with a lady. The Swedish ladles, at
nil events, believed that they have introduced
an important health measure
into social life.
Undoubtedly many Boston men who
have found themselves called upon to
raise their hats a dozen limes on a
windy day coming down Tremont
street and passing through West street
have wondered if their next attack of
influenza would not be the result of
this manner of showing respect to the
fair sex.?Boston Evening Transcript.
How (o Sw<-et?: Suj^ar Artificially.
.\ll sugar is not sweet, or rather
sweet enongli to corue up to the required
standard of sweetness, so some
kinds must be sweetened artificially.
There are many establishments where
this process is carried on. A cone of
sugar is placed over an apparatus apex
downward, many little holes in the apparatus
coming in contact with the
point of the cone. A thick liquid is
poured on the flat end of the cone and
the machinery is set in motion. The
holes become the mouths of the suction
tubes, and the sweetening liquid
is drawn through the ccne, giving it
[he necessary qualitv
I
I
A Model Good Itond.
An experiment in good road build:
dug that v/111 prove of practical benctit
! Ito tbe State is the model dirt road
: .Which was built by the Government
' experts, Messrs. Harrison and Sheets,
i through the Louisiana State University
j campus.
j This is an object lesson in roadbuildj
ing that is receiving some attention
| from tbe parish officials. This road is
j built of 110 material except dirt and at
i practically no cost, but it is solid and
) firm, and the hard rains and the heavy
! hauling to which it has been subjected
, has not injured it in the least.
When the model good road was be'
gun through the University campus,
' constructed of crushed brick and
j ground gravel, it was held that this
j road as an object lesson was valueless
| to the parish, for it would be impos|
xible for the parish or the city to
i spend the sum of money that was
l being invested in this piece of road,
! and as> the cost has figured up to
! about .$2000 this criticism has been wel'
I fAnn/l/xl
j Tiie dirt road building by tiie Gov|
ornnient experts is tiif> lirst practical
; object lesson done in this section, and
I it shows what can be done at little
I cost with the native soil of the parish,
j The road was built principally with
I the scraper and roller. The secret in
the whole business seems to he in getI
ting the right curve on the road and
I rolling it firm. The water dots not
I stand on the road and heavy traffic
even after a hard rain has made no
impression on the surface. This dlr?
road was completed last week, and
since that date the rain has fallen in
torrents and the traffic over the road j
has been heavy, but the road has not
been effected by either and stands as
firm and as solid as the day it was completed.?Eaton
Rouge (La.) Times.
School of lton>l Bnlldinff.
| It is announced that the Iowa State
j Highway Commission will conduct the
| first good- roads school in America at
! an extra session of the State College,
| al Ames. The Good Roads' Associa!
tion has wisely decided to hold its an
nunl meeting simultaneously with tliis
session so that the attending members
may have the benefits of the systematic,
practical instruction -which will
be given in the fundamental and essenI
tial features of road building and
maintenance. An extensive exhibit of
modern road building appliances will
be shown in operation by experts in
the different lines of work, short sections
of road being constructed during
the demonstrations. The all important
principles of road drainage for both
surface and soil wafer will receivo
proper attention, and full detail plans
for culverts and drainage systems will
be available. Road surveying and profile
map work are also included within
the scope of the lectures.
"Water the Greatest Foe.
"All practice and experience have
clearly proven that the greatest foe
I to good roads is water. The drain
ing of improved roads is. therefore,
Vie of the first principles of road construction,
and its importance should
not be lost sight of. Water will moke
mud of any soil however hard, and
unless it can be led away, mud must
! follow as the inevitable result. The
fact has been stated so many times
that it almost seems out of place to
refer to it here.
Increases Land Values.
With first-class roads, over which
two horses can draw two tons in a
two-horse wagon 205 days in the year,
irrespective of weather conditions,
the land fifteen miles from town would
be worth as much' as it is now two
miles away.
Reaclien Oar Islands.
The good .roads movement is reach'ing
Cuba, Hawaii and Porto Rico.
Sonre? of Pride and Profit.
A creditable public highway, owned
and controlled by the people, could
harm no one and would be a sourcc
of pride aiul profit to every class.
A way From tlio Kuili.
"If you want to see real country life
come "with me and I'll show it to you,
and within fifteen minutes' journey,
too," remarked a friend of mine.
We crossed the river on the little
ferryboat for Upper Rensselaer. The
scenery is very fine at this time, and
we enjoyed n long walk immensely
without feeling the heat that was
blistering Albany. On our way back
we stopped into the tavern. We had
to Avait quite a while before we got
served. The reason? The proprietor
was having his portrait painted. This
may sound extravagant, but he was
I having his picture painted, not "taken."
In the middle of the barroom, surrounded
by his paraphernalia for working,
stood a typical traveling artist.
I Seated against the wall was the proprietor,
and the likeness which the
artist was painting in oil on the canvas
was a really good one.
' The last time 1 witnessed such a
sight," remarked my friend, "was years
ago and away up in the heart of (he
Catskills."?Albany Journal.
Hard to Play Oil.
The experiences of George B. Cortelyou,
chairman of the Republican
National Committee, during ihe recent
campaign were many and varied..
With keen relish he tells of one that
came under his notice.
A country club about to give a parade
was debating as to the number of i
transparencies to be had in line. It !
was about settled that twelve would be !
the proper number, when an old fellow ,
with his trousers tucked in his boots !
arose and said:
"I guess two will be about right, j
'Tain't at all likely more'n two will
know how to play on 'era."?Success
Magazine.
Unkind.
In Boston, the other day, a young j
lawyer who spends most of his time j
trying to seem busy and prosperous |
went out for a while, leaving on his '
door a card neatly marked: "Will be
back In an hour." On his return ho
found that some envious rival had inscribed
underneath: "What for?"
?& ?*? r
TKE GREAT DESTROYER
SOME STARTLING FACTS ABOUT !
THE VICE OF INTEMPERANCE; r.
Sir Victor norsley, M. D., Frodnces Evidence
From the Scientific Standpoint
to Frovo That Alcolial in Not Essential
to Life or Health.
I
At a rcecnt conference-in London on
the subject of temperance, Sir Victor
Horsley. M.D., dealt with the subject
of aleoiiol from the scientific standpoint,
bringing evidence to prove that
alcohol was not essential to life or
health. The medical profession, he;
said, held it to be one of the greatest
evils of the nation, but he would submit
that socially and commercially it
was a far greater evil. The late Lord
Chancellor had declared that alcohol j
was the commonest cause of poverty
and of crime; and certainly it was the
commonest ciiuse of disease. Had not
the time come, he asked, when this
great city should view the situationfrom
the commercial and economic
standpoint? The annual expenditure
in intoxicants of ?100,000,000 to ?1S0.000,000
(which, by the way, was all
thrown away) only represented part of
the country's drink bill. To that must
be added the enst of most of the crime,
the poverty, the premature death of
tlie breadwinners; and we had also
got to add, from the medical point of
view, the cost to the nation of preventable
disease; and the cost which meant
commercial inefficiency was very largely
due to alcohol.
Sir Victor proceeded to arffiie that
for ail this vast expenditure there was
no profitable return. Neither was there
any profit to the individual from tiie
dietetic use of alcohol. It only had a
paralyzing effect upon the nerves. Under
its influence a man thought slower,
although lie might *alk faster; there
was stimulation, but no profit. And
imagined benefit was absolutely
swamped by the depressing after-effects.
And what was true of its action
on the brain was also true of its
effect upon the hand and the eye.
These statements, he said, were based
upon scientific experiments, measuring
keenness of perception, the rapidity
with which one could pick out a cipher
from a row of ciphers, accuracy and
clearness of judgment, the power of
adding figures, and other points which
directly bore upon commercial efficiency.
There could be 110 doubt, he
said, that alcohol, even in small quantities.
diminished that efficiency.?Belfast
Witness.
"The Green Peril."
Some statistics which have been published
of the growth ol' the absinthe
habit in France seem to justif' *be
!il:irmisfs wllr> SllPftk of the beVtl* "
as "the green peril." Fifty years
the quantity consumed in a year was
only 7350 quarts; and under the Empire
the annual consumption never
cxcedeed 20,000 quarts. After the "terrible
year," however, the aperitif rapidly
advanced in favor. A population
practically stationary drank 130,000
quarts of it in 1880, 580,000 quarts
in 1885, 1,120,000 quarts in 1890, and
not less than 1,330,000 quarts in the
latest year for "which the figures are
available. Nor have other kinds of
alcohol been abandoned because this
has become popular. Fifty years ago
the country was satisfied with 6,000,000
quarts per anmim to quench its thirst.
Now it requires 20,000,000 quarts. During
the same half-century the number
of lunatics under treatment has increased
from 10,000 to 80,000.
After quietly working for several
months, the Millville (Pa.) Temperance
League has scored a great victory over
the beer clubs, and it is now a settled
fact that all will be closod. Several
of these clubs have a membership of
more than 2000 residents of Philadelphia.
Bosinesfi and Steady Habits.
The Chicago and Alton Railroad in
its recent rules for employes ha's forbidden
its men to visit race-tracks,
dance-halls or any resorts where liquor
is sold or gambling permitted. Good
service, it holds, depends upon steady
habits, and both help insure public
safety.
By way of example, officials have
quit carrying intoxicating liquors on
tiieir private cars or entering saloons
along the line ot' the road. Such consistency
is bound to command respect
among employes, if not necessarily
imitation.
The company makes no pretense of
carrying on a moral crusade. It hopes
to live up to business principles wJ]ich
depend upon the competency and reliability
of its men. "All, the things
which are prohibited," says General
Passenger Agent Charlton, "either
tend or might tend permanently or
temporarily to impair a man's mental
and physical powers."
When temperance and good habits
are made part of a man's earning capacity
he will often cultivate them
<even if the loftier picas of morality
fail to remove them.?New York World.
Tl>o Kcasoii TVIiy.
Tho Ron Aniliw; 1^ White i:i his
autobiography, after expressing disapproval
of certain methods cf the rcceu.
temperance movement, adds: ".My advice
to all men is to drinl: nothing but
water. That is certainly the wisest j
way for nine men out of ten?and protably
for all ten. Indeed, one reason
why tlis groat body of our people accomplish
so much more in :i given time
than those o" any other country, and
why the average American workingman
'catches on' and 'gits thar' more
certainly and quickly than a man of
the same sort in any other country
(and careful comparison between various
other countries and our own has
shown that this is the case), is that a
much larger proportion of our people
do noi stupefy themselves with Simulants."
Temwctanco Note*.
No other poison kills as quick, if
enough is taken at once?IS. \V. Richardson.
M. I).
Alcoholic liquors are poisonous, because
they contain alcohol.?Frank
Woodbury, M. D.
In Denmark one out of every seven
men who dip between tin? ages of thirty-five
a lie! tiftj-tive is a victim of alcoholism.
Piotr Kasrmieresak died in Detroit
recently at the age of 114 years. According
to the daily papers he was a
lifeiong abstainer from intoxicants.
Professor Stadelman, principal physician
of a great hospital in Berlin, estimates
that between one-quarter and
one third of the diseases afflicting;
workiuguten in ths? great am! crowded
districts in the Prussian capital are
t*a;ixe?I by the improper ns?> ot aicoiioj.
The latest s<vr;;f organization is the
Supreme Antl-Treating League of
America, "\vhii-li has bmn incorporated
at Princeton, 1 ml. it. is a mutual benelit
association, having for one of its
announced objects tlit* making oi an
active campaign against the practice of
"treating," which takes many into the
saloons who would net otherwise go.
; .
I
PEACE;
Peace, perfect peace in this dark world o?
sin!
The blood of Jesus whispers peace within.
Peace, perfect peace with thronging duties
pressed,
To do the will of Jesus, this is rest.
| \
Pono UL
I * vuwt, ^cav;c ?iiu 2>uiiu>v aaigiug
t round!
On Jesus' bosom naugnt but calm is found.
Peace, perfect peace, with.loved ones far
away?
In Jesus' keeping we are safe and they.
Peace, perfect peace, our future here unknown!
Jesus we know, and He is on the throne.
Peace, perfect peace, death shadowing us
and ours,
Jesus lias vanquished death and all its
powers.
Jt is enough, earth's struggles soon will
cease,
And Jesus' call to heaven's perfect peace.
?Bickersteth.
A Lay Sermon.
In the remarkable discussion on religious
problems now being held in The
Sun nothing is more noticeable than
the entire absence of bitter criticism
and intolerance. Your corvispondents
who are perplexed with doubts in
trying to solve the problem of the universe
are anxious, not scornful.
Giving expression to questionings
does not mean that the searcher after
truth has lost his faith in God or his
belief in immortality, but it does meau
that the spread of free inquiry has
unshackled his mind from traditional
errors which have bred bitter controversies
in the past. Many of your readers
of okl-er years will remember the
narrow-spirited bigotry of selfishness
exhibited in many a country town by
overzealous members of the several
churches there and the utter absence
of that spirit of charity and brotherhood
which happily is on the increase
these days.
The search for the unknowable will
continue as long as the human mind
endures, but after all what does it
profit a man? The old question by
1he patriarch Job, "Canst thou by
searching find out the Almighty?" applies
to-day as of yore; and our sight
will always be hid by a cloud. Still,
the plant grows in the mist and under
the clouds as truly as under sunshine.
I Call religion mere sentiment, superstition
ot an illusion, still the fact remains
that it is the bulwark of our
nation, the foundation of the American
home. It teaches respect for old age,
reverence for womanhood, consideration
for children; it builds hospitals
and asylums for the afflicted, erects
schools and colleges and feeds and
clothes the poverty-stricken. To its
adherence to these principles does this
great nation owe its progress and preeminence,
and to withdraw the re
straining innuenee lue v^uspei uvu
the passions of men would prove disastrous.
Ask the devout churchman, be he a
Catholic or a Protestant, as to the
proofs of Christianity, aud he will tell
you that his religion is true because it
satisfies the soul. As of old, tho great
body of workers "hunger and thirst
after righteousness." .Faith in God is
still a living force among men.
If you do not believe it, look at the
great number of communicants who
go forth every Sunday morning to
throng the aisles of every Catholic
church in your city; those who "labor
and are heavy laden." No human
agency, no gift of tongue, draws these
tired people out of their beds so early
on a cold, stormy day to worship. Is
faith dead when a refined Christian
woman will stand 011 a street corner
by the hour on a bittc-r December day
ringing a bell, asking alms to feed
the poor, as many a member of the
Salvation Army does yearly, "In His
name?"
Never has the church been presented
with such magnificent opportunities
for helping humanity as at the present;
but if the people receive a stone when
they crave bread, they will seek righteousness
from other and unexpected
sources. The Christian is not afraid
of the truth, but Pilate's question,
"What is truth?" and "Where is it to
be found?" is as potent to-day as ever.
Contradictory answers will confuse the
seeker, who is sick of insincerity and
1 1 Ka
UJf'pUCrJSJ', UUl vinuaiijr iivj ?yjij
| to his own?John M. Hoysradt, in the
j New York Sim.
A Gl?nce Hoinowanl.
Father in Heaven, we rbank Thee
for the Homeland beyond the river.
May the fact that we are Homeward
bound fill us with joy, comfort us in
sorrow, Arm us for difficulties and
purify our every thought, word andaction.
Let the prodigal feel that
Thy great heart is still yearning and
that hp may yet return and sit down
in the Father's House. Guide us step
by step up the ladder of light and at
last admit us to the hospitality of Thy
Light, for Jesus' sake, Amen.
Secret of Courage.
In the faith that, although life is a
mystery, it is not a muddle, for God is
in Iii.s world bringing order out of apparent
chaos; in the reverence which
trusts aud obeys God, mingled with
the affection which clings to Him and
rejoices in Him; in the will set to do
God's will and have a little share in
God's work of healing, helping, conquering
love, is found the secret of a
courage which 110 dangers can daunt,
a patience which 110 delays can exhaust,
and a confidence which no disappointments
can destroy.?Outlook.
The lteward.
Happiness, content and right satisfnMinn.
rill doubts answered, all dark
places lighted up, heaven begun hero?
this is the reward of loving God. In
this world, tribulation; yes, but good
cheer iu spite of that.?George Hodges.
D.D.
llfi Will! Mend.
It is when we feci all broken up i:mt
wasted, and that wc can only bring the
bits to God, that He says. "Come," and
He will take us and mend us and mak??
us wholt* again.?Mrs. A. D. T. "Whit
lie.v.
The Fatal Highway.
I A south Georgia singer says he tried
1 ?.o follow the old-time advice abotil
I "Keeping in the middle of the road," wit);
I jhe fololwing result: .
! "I Kept in the middle o' the road,
A mile an' a half from town.
An' a automobile, it come along.
An' knocked me upside down!
"I kept in the middle r' the road.
An' a hurricane hit' a tree.
An' blowed it clean across that road,
An' killed a mule for me!
"No more in the middle o' the road,
You'll see me Joggi:-.' along;
j I'd rather ride with a lightnin'-flnsh
Or a hurricane biowin' strong!"
?Atlanta Constitution, j
*":r?"1 V/ , ?**- - - ? --
zx^HHnraunmaHjEHBB|
a?
"Josiab.'^Bg|M^N^HHMHEH
couT^nHQ|0m|^BHBMHH
son of AnH9^HHNHB|MHn9Q
married aH^rammHraH
budah. 2. ^BmBMaa8W|KB^jBH
into a nobieWH^Hyfll
influences o^fflHSnnKMn
trons court ail^EMHUgrajHHHflH
atrous- father.
was right not^HjnM|^^3Rfi^H
men, but in
"Ways of DaTi9HBBffi9HHM
David was the
sacred historians^BggjH^^^H
trying bis successcH&MSfflHBH
Kings 14: 3; 18: 3;^HB9ffiBOH8|
2). David was reg?^GBB^RNBHH
king (1 Kings 14:
of David," which ar^^BflMBflfln
referred to were tbo^^^BgSH^^^Hj
was led by his religiocHHRMgSM|
zeal. "His father." ^BBRm9^Q|
"Turned not aside"
phrase implies an ^ndH^NHQ
dience to all the commaVHHSHH
II. Idolatrous images a^BnBHH
3-7). hM
3. "Eighth year." Wb^RN|^B
sixteen years old. "Began^HKflflj
It is quite wonderful to see
man in tlie midst of the temp^^fflfifi
au idolatrous and corrupt cou^HEm
at the first dawning of Ills m^^^H
to serve the Lord with all his^HH
Those dw^lling under unfavora^^H|
fluences should take'eourage. "HRj
to purge." The condition of thin^^H
Judab and Jerusalem at the tim^H
Josiah's conversion was most depHj
able. For nearly seventy years i|H
atry had prevailed. In the twelM
year of his reign, nDd the iwentl^
year of his age, Josiah set out in cfl
nest to destroy the idolatry of his.fcin|
dom. In 2 Kings 22: 3 the date givj
is the eighteenth year of bis rel
"High places." It was the practiced
the heathen to erect altars for'^thH
Idolatrous worship on the tops of tie
am mAimlnino cnnnAclnr to4l
VJJ. IUUUUIU1UD, OUp|^v?M{, ? nearer
heaven. "Grooves." "The At
erim."
4. "They brake down," etc. ijT
temple was cleansed of idols, the.uu
ten linages, Idol altars and Ashe*
were ground to powder and tiielr at
sprinkled on the graves of their w
shipers in the king's presence. \
"Burnt the bones." This was predi
ed of Jrtsiah more than 300 years I
fore this time (1 Kings 13: 1. 2). T
bones of the idolatrous priests, wi
the one exception of the prophet
Bethel (see 1 Kings 13: 1, 30; 2 Kin
23: 15-18), were disentombed a
burned upon their own altar?.
6. "In the cities," etc. The northo
kingdom was now under the Assyria
government, but the remnant of Tsri
maintained close relations with Jtrtfi
and looked to them as their natui
protectors. Josiali used his inflnen
and what power he had in renidvii
the idols from the land of Israel. T
Assyrians probably did not trout
themselves about his religious proce
ings. Assur-bani-pal, King of AssyrJ
left his kingdom in such a disturb
state that his hold on Palestine i
laxed, and thus opportunity was giv<
to Josiah for his reforms. "With tl?<
inattoeks." "In their ruins/' R.
Josiah overthrow idolatry in the eiti
named, which were many of them
ruins.
III. The temple repaired (vs. 8-li
8. "Eighteenth year." When he w
twenty-six years old. This was tl
year in which the great work begi
six years before was carried fully or
"Purged." The purging of the temp
had prooably been the firstwork. Fro
purging he proceeded to repairs, &i
these had evidently been carried <
for some considerable time before th
particular occasion. "Shaphjin
Called scribe in 2 Kings 22: 3. "Jfa
seiah." Not elsewhere mentiohe
"Recorder." An officer of high rank
the Jewish state, exercising the fun
tions not simply of an annalist. <
maker of records, but of chancellor
president of the privy council. H
title has reference to his office as a
viser of the king. "Repair the house!
The first work was to clear away til
imnrrfimpnts and Durce out the evifl
that Lad gathered in and about tiB
house of the Lord. 9. "Hilkinh." S(fl
of Shallum and grandson of Zadok I
Chron. ?>: 12, 13). "Delivered tfl
money." The temple had not been rfl
paired sinee the time of Joash, 200 fl
more years before this, and it was s
doubt in a bad condition. The arranxJ
ment for receiving money appeal's
have been the same as that adopted ll
Joash (2 Kings 12: 9-12), when a cliel
wias placed in the temple iuto wblfl
the people put their offerings. "I*
vites?had gathered." The money w
collected, not merely at the temple, !)
also by collectors who visited all par
of Judah and Israel for uie purpose
soliciting contributions. This work a
pears to have been done well and th<
ougbly. 10. The money was plffced
the hands of the overseers and th
paid it to the workmen.
11. "To floor th? houses." "To ma:
beams for the houses." It. V. By "t
houses" we ar* to understand t
houses and chambers of the priests
the temple and its courts.
1.1. In this verse we are told "of t
Leviles there were scribes, and o
cers, and porter?."' Here we have coi
to r, new order of things. An order
scribes, forming a distinct division
the Levitiral body. has been i-istitutr
When Hezekiali employed men to co;
the uncollected proverbs of Solomi
j iIYov. 25: 1). a class of scribes mii
have been instituted. It is probably
I *i..? ..ten st-r !?:?; f.i.ocs tlmt v;p are i
dolstul for the preservation of so ma;
prophecies of Hest-kiah's time.
An Auto ia Not a Hone.
A garage is cot a livery stable and ;
automobile is not a horse, wagon
truck. This has been judicially deci
ed by Mr. Justice Clark in tbc Nt
| York Supreme Court Livery stat
keepers have a lien on borses, wago
and harness in their possession for t
amount of their storage and boa
bills. A keeper of an automobile g?
age undertook to hold aJi automob
for storage and to enforce his lieu,
judgment creditor of the owner of t
| automobile levied upon it and sold
t The court holds that the garage keep
had no lien and that to give him o;
there must be a special law passed.
'Girl Who Saved Train Rewarded.
The bravery of Nannie Gibson,
eleven-year-old mountain girl, livi
near Asheville. N. C., who, by flaggi
it with her reil petticoat, saved a trt
from plunging into a landslide and t<
plfrig down the mountainside, has be
substantially rewarded by the .Sou
ern Railway. When Nannie was ask
! what she wanted. ?lie said she desir
j to go to school. The Southern Tlnilro
i has sent her a check and a letter s>gr<
ing to provide for her education a
afterward to see that she is well pi
I Tided for.
iitiimjutmi' *?il nil Ml 1 illTi i n il I