The Abbeville press and banner. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, August 23, 1905, Image 2
The!
Richard
k VICTIM OF C1RCUM
13;y 33. Hi, IF1.
CHAPTER IX.
I was awakened in the morning by
my wife, and, to my surprise, found
that I had been sleeping-, fully dressed,
on a couch in our bedroom. I sat
up and passed my hand across my forehead,
in the endeavor to recall how it
was that I had entered the room, and
without undressing, chosen the couch
instead of the bed.
"Have I been sleeping long?" I asked.
"I do not know, my dear," replied my
wife. "The opiate you gave me last
night had such an effect upon me that j
I could scarcely have stirred until 1
opened my eyes half an hour ago."
"Then you have no recollection of
my having come in, or at what time?"
"Not tiie slightest, Richard."
"Nor have I," said I, pondering.
"When I saw you sleeping on the
/?oueb," said my wife, tenderly, "my
idea "was that you would not come to
bed for fear of disturbing me."
"That may have been my motive for
sleeping here," I said, still in wonder:
"but it is strange that it should have
gone clean out of my mind."
"It has occurred before, Richard."
"True; but this is a new phase of
my wretched sleep-walking."
"It is easily accounted for, love. Your
mind has been unusually disturbed.
Do not let it distress you."
"And you have had a good night?"
"A wonderful night; I feel quite refreshed;
and were it not for what is
before me, I should feel perfectly
I It
uuppj.
Now, it is a singular fact that my
ncxid was also a blank a6 to the danger
which threatened us. I had no recollection,
not only of what had passed
between me and nay uncle on the previous
day. but even of his being in the
house.
"Of whflt is before you?" I said.
'What do you mean?"
''Surely you have not forgotten the
task I have set myself with your uncle?
I shall succeed, love?I shall succeed!
The first sound I heard this morning
was the singing of the birds. That is
nearly always so; but this morning
their sweet notes had a peculiarly joyful
significance. 'Hope, hope, hope!'
they sang. 'All will be well. Eunice
will be happy. Your home is saved.
The cloud has passed away.' My henrt
sang the words in unison, and I have
given thanks to the Giver of all good."
Even these tender words did not
mitigate the terrible oppression which
weighed me down. She failed to convince
me that, within a few short
hours, we should not be thrown upon
the world, without a home.
"Mamma!'' It was Eunice's voice,
outside.
"Come in. dear child!" called my
wife. "She is happy and hopeful,
Richard. I have been talking to her
3uite wisely."'
"If love be wisdom," I thought, as
Eunice entered the room, "it would
;ount for much. But love must work
i miracle in a stony heart before happiness
can be restored to me end
mine."
"Kiss the clouds away from your
father's face, my child," said my wife,
''and make him smile again."
"Let be. let be." I said, receiving
md returning Eunice's caress with
:oldness.
"Don't be disheartened, darling." said
my wife, drawing Eunice to her.
"Your father ie not himself this morning."
"There is nothing new, mamma?"
?sked Eunice, anxiously.
"No, dear child," replied my wife.
"Keiy upon me.
"I will, mamma. I will." murmured
Eunice, her face upon her mother's
breast.
"We will go down now. Richard,"
said my wife; "you will join us presently?'*
"Yes. presently,*' I replied.
They left the room together, takinp
some loose roses with them, and I
proceeded to make my toilet. It was
soon completed, and 1 took my watch
from my pocket to ascertain the time.
As I put it back my fingers encountered
a ring. I took it out and gazed at it
In dumb astonishment; it was the diamond
ring my uncle had placed upon
his finger on the first night of his arrival.
By what strange means had it
come unconsciously into my possession?
I shook my head angrily and impatiently
and tried to think. My uncle
had not given me the ring, and I could
scarcely have taken it without his
knowledge. But, with or without his
knowledge, I must Lave taken it. ror
It lay in my trembling hand. How did
It come into my pocket? Was I n
thief? It needed but a question like
this to make my despair complete.
Little did I suspect what was yet to
be revealed to me and all of us. The
stone in tlie ring was. as i nave uireau.v
stated, uot large, and could not. at the
utmost, liave been worth more tlian
twenty pounds. That 1 should have
been guilty of a theft, aud of a theft
so paltry, shocked and overwhelmed
me.
What should I do with the ring? 1
dared not show it to my wife; the
thoughts which it must inevitably have
inspired in her gentle breast would,
as it were, have revealed to her base
depths in my nature of which she
did not believe me capable. I had to
see my uncle on this morning, and I
would take the opportunity of slipping
the ring somewhere in his room, or of
dropping it upon the floor, and thus
avoid suspicion. So resolving. I went
down to my wife and daughter with
my guilty secret in my pocket, ready to
my :?i?ht hand.
Mr. Mortlock was with them at
breakfast, and Mile. Rosalie. Mr. MortJocfc
gave me "good morning," and with
Peril
Pardon,
STANTIAL EVIDENCE
ARJEOK.
KJtTTOOTtTTOOT
a hatred in my heart which, had I
not held myself in moral and physical
control, would have impelled me to
strike him in the face, I returned the
salute, despising myself the while for
my contemptible weakness and lack
of manhood. Mile. Rosalie raised her
eyes shyly to my face, softly said,
"good morning, sir," and then lowered
them again. What was the meaning of
her shy, timid, singuar look? Did she
know my secret? Or was it that I was
in the mood to place extravagant constructions
upon the most insignificant
I details of social intercourse? I chose
the "worse view, and. gazing with perturbed
looks at them all, took my seat
at the table.
"You do not seem well this morning,"
! observed Mr. Mortloek.
Again Mile. Rosalie raised her eyes
j to mine "with the same strange look;
I again she lowered them immediately.
"I am quite well, Mr. Mortloek." I
said, and in no courteous tone. "What
makes you think otherwise?"
Mr. Mortloek simply said, "I beg your
pardon," and proceeded with his breakfast.
"Have you seen Mr. Fleetwood this
morning?" asked Mile. Rosalie.
The question was not directed to
anyone in particular, and my wife answered
no, that she had not seen him.
Then, once more, Mile. Rosalie looked
at me. And now in her strange glances
I seemed to detect a hidden meaning
which irritated and confused me, because
I could not interpret it.
"Do you wish particularly to know if
I have seen him?" I asked.
"No, sir," she replied, quietly. "I
was asking generally. I observe that
he has not placed the usual flowers
on the table."
This was a reference to a mark of
affection and graceful attention which
Samuel Fleetwood was in the habit
of paying my wife and daughter. Every
morning, when the? came down to
breakfast, there was a posy for each of
them placed before their accustomed
seats at the table, and they knew that
the flowers came from this faithful
servant. On this morning there were
none. My wife had noticed the omission,
but had made no remark upon it;
and if Mile. Rosalie spoke spitefully
respecting it, a natural cause might
be found in the circumstance that
Fleetwood never honored her by such
a mark of attention. In reply to her
comment my wife simply said:
"Mr. Fleetwood is too busily engaged
in his duties with Mr. Wilmot."
"I dare say," responded Mile. Rosalie;
and the conversation dropped.
A couple of hours after breakfast, it
being then aoout half-past 11 o'clock,
Mile. Rosalie remarked that Mr. Wilmot
was later than he was on the
preceding morning, and my wife concurred.
but added that he must on no
account be disturbed. As she looked
toward me for confirmation. I said
that he had given explicit instructions
that no one should go to his bedroom
until he summoned them. It was an
evidence of the wretched state of my
nerves that I should feel annoyed by
Mile. Rosalie's simple repetition of my
words, "Until he summoned them."
She was bu^y with a piece of embroidery,
which she was making for Eunice.
Another hour passed without a sign
from my uncle, and, with the intention
~ ' J T l./i
of seeking Samuel j-ieeiwooa, i jeu
the ladies and proceeded in the direction
of my uncle's apartments. On the
way I entered my own bedroom for a
clean handkerchief, and I casually observed
a piece of thin whipcord, the
end of which was hanging down from
beneath the pillow of the couch upon
which I had slept It did not further
attract my attention, and, without removing
it, I went in search of Fleetwood.
He was not to be found. I
questioned the servants, but not one
of them had seen him. I asked whether
he had had his breakfast, and-the answer
was that he had not presented
himself at the breakfast table, and
that his absence had been commented
on. Knowing that he was suffering
from acute heart disease, and that my
doctor had said he had not long to
live. I proceeded to his room, adjoining
that of my uncle, fearing that he might
bo ill. But Fleetwood Avas not in his
room. His bed had been made and
the apartment was in a clean and
orderly condition. I sought the chambermaid
whose duty it was to attend
to the bedrooms, and ascertained that
she had attended as usual to Fleetwood's
room.
"The bed had been slept in?" I inquired.
"Yes, sir," replied me chambermaid.
"You are sure you have not sesn
him?"
"I am sure. sir. I noticed that his
room was not as tidy as I've seen it
generally. Things seemed to be in eonfqsion."
I returned to Fleetwood's apartments,
between which and my uncle's, as I
have mentioned, was a communicating
door. I placed my ear to this door
and listened. I heard no sound. I
softly tried the door. It was locked;
but whether it had been locked from
*' - ! - /intcirlo T f.rmld Tint
Ill*' illMUt" Ul lut
tell. By this time it was 1 o'clock, and
I began to feel uneasy. I went to my
wife and consulted her. She hardly
knew what to advise, having gathered
from mo how peremptory were my
uncle's instructions that he should not
he disturbed. But when another hour
had passed we decided that, in the
strange and unaccountable absence of
Samuel Fleetwood, we would make a
gentle effort to arouse him.
We stood together at the communicating
door, and softly called to him, and
presently called in a louder tone, without
receiving an answer. My wife
I
tapper! nt tee door, with no better re :
suit, antl then 1 shook it, arid called in
a clear, loud tone, "Unale! Uncle!"
And ft 11! there was 110 response from
him.
"Richard." said my wife, "I an
alarmed. Ho is an old man, and " !
She could not proceed. Speechless !
she prized at me. find I nt her, and 1
felt that, in her mind, as in mine, wer<
recalled the rvords I had tittered oi
the previous nipbt.
"Something must be done," I said.
How it came about I know not, bui
now there were other persons in the
room be?ide ourselves?Mr. Mortlocli
and Mile. Rosalie.
"The door should be forced," said .Mr.
Mortlock.
"I will call cgaii, first," I said, and I
cried, at the top oi* my voice, "Uncle!
Uncle!"
There was a dread portent in the
silence that ensued. Feeling now that
there was not n moment to lose. I put
my shoulder to the door and tried to
force it, but my strength was not
great enough.
"Let me try it," said Mr. Mortlock.
He put forth all his strength, and
literally smashed the door in. Even al
this rlread iuncture I noticed that Mile.
Rosalie looked at him in admiration of
his strength. .
We stepped iuto the room, expecting
and hopin.tr that my nnele would leap
from his bed at the unseemly intrusion
and confront us. The form of my
uncle was upon the bed, encompassed
by an awful stillness. We softly j
moved toward it, and, bending for- |
ward, saw that he was cold and dend1 j
Horror-struck, we retreated; then in- j
stantly stepped forward again, my wife j
only keeping in the background. 1 |
lowered my ear to my uncle's mouth; j
it was rigid and fixed. I placed my
hand upon his heart; it was rigid and j
fixed. I placed my hand upon his
heart; It was pulseless.
"He is dead!" I said.
Mr. Mortlock cast infuriated glances
at me. My wife was falling to the |
ground as I caught her.
"Poor gentleman!" said Mile. Rosalie.
"Poor old gentleman!" '
i
CHAPTER X. i
It was an awful sight There was
an expression of pain upon the pray,
upturned face, and it is the sacred
truth that my feelings were those of a
man upon whom had fallen a most
terrible and overwhelming blow. For
a few moments, supporting in my arms
the insensible form of my dear wife,
this, and no other, was the impression
produced upon me by the awful incident.
But it is the sacred truth as
well that my agitation presently assumed
another phase. My uncle was
- * J,-j V. ? I
(leaa?ne nau uieu ut*iuie uc
carry into execution the stern and I
ruthless design which would have shattered
the happiness of ray beloved ones.
They had escaped the sentence he
would have pronounced upon them.
"Is it true, Richard?" whispered my
wife. "My God! Is it true?"
"It is as true that he if! dead," said
.Mr. Mortlock, between his teeth, "as
that he has been murdered."
An exclamation of horror burst from
my lips, and from the lips of my wife.
Mile. Rosalie was silent
"It is impossible," I said; "it cannot
be!"
"Look here," said Mr. Mortlock.
He turned down the bedclothes, and i
pointed to a thin circle round the dead
man's neck.
'He has been strangled," said Mr.
Mortlock, "in his sleep."
"Heaven have mercy upon him.'"
murmured my -wife, in a low, shuddering
voice.
"It will have." said Mr. Mortlock,
"no mercy upon his murderer."
"It is strange," said Mile. Rosalie, j
finding her voice, "that nothing has !
been seen of Mr. Samuel Fleetwood."
"No. no!" cried my wife, horrified at
the suggestion.
ilTk- A " ?-*J T>a?ihU/? Tm'fh noi*.
"JSUT, ' SH1U .Ulie. rwiniir,
sistence. "It is strange, is it not. sir?"
"It is," I mechanically replied; "be
must be found."
"Meanwhile." said Mr. Mortlock,
"this is a matter for the police."
"For the police," I exclaimed.
"For the police," repented Mr. Mort- |
lock. "A wicked murder has been com- j
mittcd in your bouse. Do you propose i
to hush it up?"
"No," I replied, "I do not. Your in- |
sinuation is injurious and offensive."
"Perhaps," he retorted, with bitter
emphasis, "as injurious and offensive
nc vnn hnve considered my presence in |
your house to hare been."
"Ah," I said, "you have observed
that."
"Oh, hush, hush"' murmured my i
wife. "We are in the presence of j
death."
To be continued.
A Hainan Interrogation Point.
It was refreshing, too, when a young
child traveling eastward from the far
West held a conversation close beside
me with a pallid mother. I never saw
a -woman more utterly exhausted, while
the child seemed as fresh at sunset as
at dawn. It was -when the through
train on the Boston and Albany still
stopped at West Newton, and the conductor
had just called "with vigorous
confidence the name of that station.
After a pause the child exclaimed as
vigorously, "Mother!" to which the
mother responded, perhaps for the two
hundredth time that day, in a feeble
voice, "What, dear?" when the following
conversation ensued:
"What did tliat man say, mother?"
"He said West Newton." A pause
for reflection, then again: "Mother?" j
"What?" "What did that man say |
West Newton for, mother?" To this
the mother, with an evasiveness indicated
by despair, could only murmur,
"I don't know."
This was too well-tried an evasion, and
the unflinching answer came: "Don't
you know what he said West Newton
for. mother?" Thus demanded came
the vague answer: "Paid it for fun cf
it, I guess." By this time all the occupants
of the esr were listening
breathlessly to the cross-examination.
Then came the inevitable "Mother,"
and the more and mure hopeless
"What?" "Did that ma?i saj West
Newton for the fun of it, mother?"
"Yes," said the poor sufferer, with an
ever increasing audience iistcniug to
her vain evasion.
The child paused an atom longer; ana
then continued, still inexhaustible, but
as if she had forced her victim into
the very last corner, as she had, "What
was the fun of it, mother?"?Atlantic. ,
Professor Fahlbeck says there are j
3000 noblo families in Sweden, while in
Norway there are only five noble families,
which amply explains the difference
in their ill-matched union.
While pursuing a mouse the other
day, Mme. Delatour, of Paris, broke
through the floor of her room and j
found in the hole a brass box, contain- !
ing gold coins of the value of $1000.
Some of the great reservoirs in the
country districts that supply certain
English cities with their water have
become populous breeding places for
water fowl and are well stocked with
valuable fish.
In Northern New Zealand recently a
- - - -i i 1
native woman aeseriea iier nuouiiuu i
and ran away "with another man. A |
native court fined the deserted husband |
horses, cattle and money for "lack of j
marital authority in not being able to j
I retain his wife."
A Lafayette County farmer, whose
sheep were being killed by wolves,
covered a lamb's carcass with strychnine
one night and left it outside his
sheep pen. The next morning nine
dead wolves were found within sixty
feet of the carcass.?Kansas City Star.
The arm of a well known London !
man might well be described as a
gpnealogical tree, for it is being rapidly
covered with dates. In addition
to his own and his wife's birth dates
and the record of their marriage, he
has. the name and date of the birth of
j eacn or his cnnaren.
The Cnnard steamship Campania, on
arriving at Queenstown on May 13, reported
that on May 8 a wireless longdistance
record was established. Messages
were received direct from the
Marconi station at Poldbu, Cornwall," a
distance of 2200 miles. It is stated
that the previous record was about
2000 miles.
"Nothing doing" seems modern
enough; is it slang? In the "Creevy
Papers" there is a letter written to
Thomas Creevy by a Dr. Currie, dated
May 1, 1803. He is referring to Napoleon:
"We are all cursed flatt here
about the spunnet negotiations. Nothing
doing. Everything stagnated. We
shall have war, because it is just the
most absurd thing in creation."
LIFE INSURANCE IN CHINA.'
Agents Require the Patlcnce of Job and
a Cast Iron Digestion.
In a lively letter to his friends at
home, the English representative of
an insurance company in a Chinese
port tells of the devious Vays by
which an insurance proposal is ap
proached.
"One of my agents," he writes,
"comcs in and says, 'Please, master,
.wantehee you come city side talkee
one woman. Can takee insure, pidgin.'
To which I reply, 'More better
you talkee mississee come ny side,
catchee chow (take dinner).' This being
arranged, the lady arrives iu her
chair, accompanied by two maid servants
and her body servant. I have to
go out and shake hands violently with
myself, then walk backward over the
gangplank, while her maids help her
along. Her feet are perhaps two and
a half inches long, so progress is slow.
"Chinese ladies love to be asked how
much everything costs, which is really
a nice fashion, as they wear lovely
r>tuff. She had gold bracelets up to the
middle of the forearm, valued at ?1200,
and pearls all over her hair worth
?300C. Her coat of lovely light cherry
colored silk took five months to weave,
and cost a trifle of ?80. She tells me
she is a No. 2 wife, her husband having
four altogether.
"We have dinner of fourteen courses.
She smokes cigarettes all the time,
and I have to hand her every dish myself,
and she has to rise and bow.
She drinks port sherry, beer, champagne
(at Is. Gd. a bottle), and then
smokes a cigar. After dinner her maid
gives her a silver basin and her powder
box and combs, and she does her
liair. Then I take tier to me uieau-e,
and we eat nuts, oranges and biscuits.
"The next stage is tliat I accompany
her to a Chinese festival at a leinple
tip the river. After seeing a procession,
of 2000 boats, we cat and drink from
solid silver dishes and caps, and -with,
gold chopsticks. There are eighty-sis
courses (believe it if you can), and they
include shark's fin, birds' nests, doves'
eggs and other luxuries. We drink native
wine and tea. Another houseboat
arrives alongside, containing her husband
and three singing girls, one of
Whom he will probably buy as No. 5.
"I ask No. 2 if she is jealous, aud she
Bays, 'No, not a bit,' and asks me if
No. 5 is really pretty in my judgment
It is all- the queerest mixture of morals
and manners. Up to now we have
not even mentioned business, but after
about three weeks' palavering she will
eventually insure. It is a queer business,
and one requires the patience of
Job and a cast iron digestion."?Loudon
Mail.
A Leviathan BaWlenhip.
Two hundred additional men have
been taken on at the Portsmouth
, * J 1 *u1 r? rr voilfl trt
aocicyaru, UllU luc.v iiir lujiut, .uu?
the building slip nt North Corner, upon
which the new Dreadnaught will be
constructed. Every step to facilitate
rapid construction is to be taken. All
materials will be carried on rails alongside
the slip, and the shipwrights will
use pneumatic drilling and riveting
tools. The Dreadnaught is to be the
largest warship afloat, and the admiralty
intend to have her ready for launchnig
wiihin six months of the keel being
laid, which will be the shortest time
on record.?London Mail.
Road to Rank in China.
?" i.
II SCC1US IU Ut' LjUllf Uif mauiuu Vi
late in Fekin to add military rank and
powers to civil officials, presumably because
the recipients of these rather unusual
honors showed a knowledge of
military matters when questioned by
their majesties during audience.?
Shanghai North China Herald.
\ ,
THE GREAT DESTROYS!
SOME STARTLING FACTS ABO'J'
THE VICE OF INTEMPERANCE;
VThnt Somfi Teople Suy kcdnwii to f
Abunrdlty? If Alcohol Gives fjtrenjrt
Why l?o AthletCH Ab*tain 'Wljtlo 1
Tr?lBlnc??V|wel? I'oily mill Mlmt.
Some ?>ny alcohol gives strength,
so. why do athletes abstain wbi
training Tor n vuoe or other oorites
requiring specini strength?
.Some say alcohol gives ondnrane
If so, wby do great employers of lain
cut off the supply of drink when woi
of an especially arduous nature is r
quired?
Some say alcohol sustains the healt
If so, why do insurance compauii
take total abstainers at a lower pr
tnium or cive them larger bonus*
than others?
Some say thai alcohol is good .?*.
stimulant for brain workers. If tl.
is a fnct. then all physiologists ai
wrong, as they unanimously agree tfci
the smallest quantity of alcohol up.se
the balance of the mind, and Dr. She]
pard. of London, and many other in
thc.ritios state that about forty p<
cent, of the cases of insanity ai
caused by its use.
Some say it is dangerous to give t
the use of alcohol suddenly, if s
why do prisoners, ail of whom ai
obliged to abstain suddenly when con
mitted to jail, improve in heaitb?
i-'bme say why did God m::ke sue
things if they were not to be usee
God never mode alcohol. It is m
found anywhere in nature, but is a pt
son manufactured from rotten and d
:-ayed vegetable matter.
Some say our liOra tnaue wine, nr
therefore it must be good, and mn
t?e meant for use No doubt, all tot!
ribstnicers would be prepared to drill
wine as our Lord made it. from pui
water. It is wine made from fennen
?d grapes and putriiied grain wliic
contains the deadly poison called ale
hoi. to which they object.
Some say a little alcohol is a goc
thing to take when weak and faggei
As alcohol contains no food prc^)erl
whatever is not this absolutely u wror
nonclusion? It only acts as a whip 1
the tired1 horse, which draws out u li
tie more of its exhausted strength, bi
puts,nothing in it* place. A glass <
warib milk will give the same feelin
of relief, and at the same time mal
the body and mind stronger.
.Hie liquor truim; in ? unuivu
monster, which only continues to In
because it is fed by the moderai
Irinkers. Thousands of drunkarc
perish every year, and the ghafjtl
urray is daily recruited from the rani
jf the moderate drinkers.
Count up your friends who wei
Dnce moderate drinkers, but have bee
ruined by strong drink. Think of tl
danger of your loved ones, and remec
ber that their safety may depend upc
your example.
It takes couragc and unselfishness 1
abstain, but face the facts and as
yourself
What is my duty?
Twenty Braxonn For Opposing '.ho
1. It never builds up manhood, bi
tears it down.
2. It never beautifies the home, bi
cften wrecks it.
It never increases one's usefo
ness, but often lessens it.
4. It never allays the passions, bi
inflames them.
5. It never stills the tongue of slai
der, but loosens it.
(i. It never promotes purity <
thought, but poisons it.
7. It never empties almshouses ar
prisons, out nns ineir.
S. It never protects the ballot bo:
but defiles it.
9. It never makes happy familie
bnt miserable ones.
10. It never prompts to right doic
In anything, but to wrong.
11. It never prepares one for beave:
but fqr hell.
12. It never diminishes taxes (wit
all its revenue), but increases them.
13. It never renders the Sabbat
quiet, but desecrates it
14. It never protects our properl
ncr perscnul safety, but endangei
them.
15. It never helps one to get a goc
insurance policy on his life, but mil
tates against it.
Ki. It never creates ambition ar
thrift, but invites laziness, profligac;
poverty, idleness and crime.
17. It nevir builds up the churci
but peoples the station houses, prisoi
and chain gangs.
18. It never refines character n<
promotes Christian grace, but is a d
stroyer of the soul.
19. It never teaches honesty and it
Tightness, but invites the incendiat
to apply the midnight torch.
JO. It never protects a man. but rol
him of his money, his family hapf
ncss, his good name, his hopes and n
endearments of life?American Issue
Is All This Sc?
There is but one sure cure for tl
drinking disease or habit, and that
the simplest of all. The cure consis
i:? eating fruits. That will cure tl
worst case of inebriety that ever i
fiicted a person. It will entirely il
stroy the taste for intoxicants and w
make tbe drunkard return to 11
thoughts and tastes of his cbildhoo
when he loved the luxuries nature hi
provided for him and when his app
tite had not become contaminated 1
false, cultivated tastes and attendai
false desires and imaginary pleasure
No person ever saw a man or woimi
who liked fruit and who bad an app
tite for drink. No persons ever saw
man or woman with an appetite i'<
drink that liked fruit. The two tast'
are at deadly enmity with each otbe
and there is in room for both of tbe
in the same human constitution. Ot
will certainly destroy the other.?V.'hi
to lint.
Trinprrnnce Nofrs.
Wi1b the exception of Quebec evei
province of Canada has now deelan
for prohibition by a large majority.
No Senator or member of tho I-Ioii
of Representatives can purchase a dr<
of wine or whisky or beer in line
Sam's Parliament House.
The Massachusetts Breweries Cor
pany. known as the brewery tru>
owning and operating ten I.-.rye plant
has been indicted by the (Jvji.M ,Tm
for selling bottle ale containing si
pliuric acid.
It is a splendid fact thai the pr
,.! (I... n'-ieliiiurinu r'.inHol lull
l.pjti pr.rhtted of (lie sale of Iiqt:c
There is now not ;i single bar at:
where in (he vast building.
We see in the Roston Evening Tra
script of April 2!) that of sixty samp!<
of Kost*'i whisky recently analyzed 1
the State Board of Health, only t\\
met the required standard of alcohol.
Geo. T. Angel I.
Intemperance alone, working uii
chief with camu?utive effects, won
destroy the race in half a dozen geni-r
tions if the checks and balances of ten
perauce and health did not mote tlui
offset the ravages of vice.
I THE . SUNDAY SCHOOL
INTERNATIONAL LESSON COMMENTS
FOR AUCUST 27.
Subject: Jeremiah in the Dnnpeor. Jer.
xxxvlll., 1-13? Golden Text, Malt.- v.
li 1
10?Memory Verges, K-IO? Commentary
on the Uaj'n l^cskon.
.. I. Jeremiah's enemies (ys. 1-4). 1.
. "Tlien." After the events referred to
I? in chapter 37, where Jeremiah was delivered
from 'the dungeon. "Shephatiah,"
etc. Some of Jeremiah's enemies
^ who wore seeking his life. "All the
people." They had free access to him
j5 in the court of the prison. 2. "Life for
e' a prey." A proverbial expression. To
. make one's escape with life like a vaiuable
spoil or prey that one carries off;
the narrowness of the escape, and the
joy felt at it are included in the idea.
?s He shall carry off his life as his gain,
saved by his going over io the Chaldeans.
Had Jeremiah not had a divine
commission he might justly have been
accused of treason, but having one
which made the result of the siege certain
he-acted humanely as interpreter
p' of God's will under the theocracy in
u" advising purrender. 3. "Surely be
-r given." This was a testimony.that he
^ constantly bore; he had the authority
of Cod for it. He knew it was true
"P and he never wavered or eijcivocated.
?* 4. "The princes said." Their reasons
r0 were plain enough, but the proof was
wanting. "Seeketh . . . the hurt." An
unjust insinuation, for no man had
? done more for this people than had
Jeremiah. His preaching was calcuII
x- ?
JUtl'U lo aruumi uieiu lu u ncuac ui lucu
sins and cause them to turn to God.
e" One of tbe commonest ways of injuring
others is to misunderstand and misinl(f
terpret their motives, as Jeremiah's
j motives were maligned because it was
H' possible for him to have clone what he
_ did with bad motives. When there are
"e two possible motives for the conduct
J" of another, it is not only a more eharitnble,
but probabJy a more truthful
judgment to impute the better motives.
"Judge not that ye be not judged,"
should be rritten in capital letters,
a- yen. in flaming letters, before us all.
II. Jeremiah in the dungeon (vs. 5,
'g 6). u. "King is not he." IZedekiah was
t0 a weak.king. He lrnd a conviction that
T" Jeremiah was a phophet of the Lord,
and yet he dared not oppose his stafesmen,
but yielded to their will without
's a question. An innocent man was thus
:e sacrificed to their malice. These
princes were wroth with Jeremiah
(chapter 37: 15); "he had compared
'e thom to rotten figs" (chapter 24). But
, for him they would have had affairs
le .. .
till ICOir own way, iiiey v< cur uiu.iuiu
_*v tt> be rid of him.
kS C. "Then took they Jeremiah." Jeremiah
"was the butt of ridicule and
scorn. He was put in the stocks, was
u publicly whipped, was misrepresented
ie as an enemy, was imprisoned several
3* times, but he kept right on. "The dun111
geon." Literally "the cistern." It was
net a subterranean prison as that in
L? Jonathan's house (chapter 37: 15), but
!t u pit cr cistern, which had been full of
water, but was emptied of it during
the siege so that only mire remained.
Such empty cisters were often used as
?n prisons (Zach. 9:11); the depth forbade
lt hope of escape. "Sunk in the mire."
They evidently expccted that he would
die in that place.
III. Jeremiah's friend (vs. 7-9). 7.
il- "Ebedmelech." The servant of the
king. He probacy was keeper of the
it royal harem, end so had private access
to the king. Already even at this
n- early time, God wished to show what
good reason there was for calling the
jf Gentiles to salvation. An Ethiopian
stranger saves the prophet whom his
id own countrymen, the Jews, tried to
destroy. So the Gentiles believed in
x. I Christ whom the Jews crucified, and
Ethiopians were among the earliest
s, converts (Acts 2: 10; S: 27-39). "Sitting
in the gate." The gates of cities were
ig the places where justice was administered.
8 "Went forth." The servant
n, went immediately to the king. There
was no time to lose, for if he delayed
h the prophet might perish. What a
bold, eor.raKeons.aet this was. It ought
b to put many of us to shame.
9. "These men," etc. He must have
,y been in the kings confidence or he
: $ would not have dared raise his voice
against the action of the princes. The
id Lord can raise up friends for His peoi
pie where they are least expected. "No
more bread." That is, no more bread
ill left of the public store in the city
jr. (chapter 37: 21); or. all but no bread
left anywhere. This shows to what
h, straits the city was reduced.
is IV. Jeremiah rescued (vs. 10-13). 10.
"King commanded." Zedekiah's better
jr nature was stirred. "Thirty men." Not
e- merely to draw up Jeremiah, but to
guard Ebed-meiech if the princes
p. should oppose him. The king was de y
t ermined that he should be rescued by
force if necessary. Ebed-melech was
3S rewarded for his faith, love aud courii
age, exhibited at a time when he might
ill well fear the wrath of the princes.
?. 11-13. Ebed-meiech took the men as
Ihe king had commanded and rescued
Jeremiah. He let down into the pit
some torn clothes and worn out garme.nts
and instructed Jeremiah to roil
i-c them around the ropes and place them
ts under his armpits, so as not to suffer
ie injury from the ropes when he was
n- drawn up. Although-' Jeremiah was
e- thus rescued from a terrible aeam, ne
ill was not set at liberty, but remained in
ie the court of the prison. He was still
:l in prison when the armies of Babylon
i<l took .lerysaleni. He was found in
e chains and carried with other captives
>y on the way 10 Babylon, but was reu(
leased at Kamah. six miles from Jerus
s::)e;u. Thus ended the prison life of
in tho pfopl'.et. IIow Ion? he was in
e- priron it is difficult to determine, prob<i
ably for years. The- Lamentations
>i which ho wrote after the destruction of
py Jerusalem must have been his frequent
r meditation while in confinement.
in
" There t:c two cicnanmn harvests annal11
* ly in Ccyloa.
Mottier of Twenty-fire.
Mrs. Samuel P. Swartwood. the
rj mother of twenty-five children, died at
h her home, at Mountain Top, Wilkesbftrre,
Pa., of heart disft.se, aped forly51
seven years. She was married when
jr she was fourteen, and the first baby
;< was born fourteen months afterward.
There were but two spts of twins in
n all the twfntv-tive, and all are alive
nritv hnf coven S/kmn nf tlin
s survivors are married, and twelve
' grandchildren also survive. Mrs
j Swart wood contended that it was easier
to raise a large family than a small
one, and said that the varying ages ot
0 her children were such that they could
'' look after one another.
ir
y
A Small Baby.
A diminutive bit of humanity arrived
u In the City Hospital, at Jersey City, N.
^ J., by the stork route. The happy
mother is Theresa Selva, and the baby
weighs but fourteen and one-half
ounces. The child is perfectly formed
ind apparently healthy.
s
A Rich Bird.
n In dressing a fowl, Lucie Manrentz, a
n Paris cook, found iu its interior a gold
ring set with two superb diamonds. j
\
THE SIMPLE DESIRE; H
I 0 Master, let me walk with Thee, MB
! In lowly paths of service free; m
| Tell me Thy secret, help me bear a|
The strain of toil, the fret of care.
Help me the slow of heart to move M
By some clear, winning word of lov<:;
Teach me the wayward feet to 6tay, H
And guide them in the homeward way. H
Teach me Thy patience, gtill with Thee I
In closer, dearer company, H
In work that keeps faith sweet ai d str<]fl
In trust that triumphs over wror g. B
In hope that sends a shining ray
Far down the future's broadening way. H
In peace, that only Thou canst give,
With Thee, 0 Master, let me live. -H
?Washington Gladden?
ADVICE TO CONVERTS. g
BT 0IP8T P*ITH. ' '
"Let your light shine before m?
Never fail to witness for Christ,
your home, first of all, not only
word but in deed; in the chui
amongst fellow-Christians, and in i
world, never be ashamed of Jef
You are to be a witness for EK?
this is His desire for you. "Let i
redeemed of the Lord say so/' "
shall be witnesses unto Me." (A
1:8.) "They overcame by the blood
the Lamb ar.d by the word of th
testimony." (Rev. 12:11.) There
thousands of .professing Christians w
have no joy, because- they bear
witness for Christ Oh, for the bolda
or feter wfcui fie said, "We caul
but speak the things which we hi
seen and heard!" (Acts 4:20.)
As far as you can undo the pf
If there is anything wrong in the pi
of your life, and you can put it ril
do bo without delay. 'If you1 hi
taken anything from any scan, rest<
fully, or go ts far as you can in tl
direction; this, is right Not only;f
sake'sin,-but confess it, for that w
put you rlghf. with the man you ha
wronged, as well as bring you ii
close relationship with God. 5
God "requireth that which is pas
(Eccles. 3:15.) The jailor at Philii
took Paul and Silas "the same h<
(of his conversion) and washed*"!#
stripes." He could not wait till me
lng; when morning came, he was
Joicing in God. Joy always folkr
stripe-washing. Let all those w
know you se-? your rellgiou means <
ing right all along the line. This m
mean time aad trouble, and even si
fering, but tbe soul made right wl
God must get right with man.
Don't lose heart because yon f
tempted. You will be more conscio
of temptation now you have giv
yourself to (Jod and are trytng to
right The devil is now your bltl
enemy; he will seek to trip yon
every step. He would delight to av*
throw you; your fall would be a grc
victory for him. But remember y
are not alone; Jesus Is not only for yi
He is within you, and. all about y<
as a wall of fire. You have notbi
to fear; the Mighty One lives to bri
you through the temptation more th
conqueror. Yon do not fight alone,
you would fail. The Lamb slain iM
fore the throne is also the Lion H
the - tribe of Judah, and He lives H
give victory again and again. Be ifl
afraid! But yon say: "Supposefl
am overtaken and fall into sin, wbH
am I to do then?" Go back to GH
Instantly fa: pardon and cleansifl
Tbe command is "Sin not;" "but
any man sin we have an advoceH
with the Father." (1 John 2.) 9
Saved to Serve.?Remember you afl
saved to ser^e. Christ Himself cacH
not to be miaistered unto, but to mfl
later, and to j?ive His life a ramsonr:
the world. Yon, too, must be of-a
vice to som<' one If you would en
into the joy of the Lord. Try to n
lster some hit of honest work 1
Christ and man, every day you H
There may he tears and heartache
the work, but remember Christ's 1
was service for you. If you are H
you must 6erve. All He did was do
because He loved. "I must worl
said Jesus. If you have His spli
can you be 6elflsh and idle? "
many as are led by the Spirit of G<
they are the sons of God." (Roma
8:14.)
You may be saying, "What can
do?" Do the little things; begin
the home, speak lovingly, act gent
Serve those who are near you?fa
er, mother, sister, brother, wife, hi
band, child. Sink your own will a
rights for their good, do not seek
the good for yourself. Always
willing for those about you to sh?
with you, and ever be willing to de
yourself. A heart filled with t
love which "never faileth" will in t
end win great victories. We poss?
most truly when we give most awj
we save ourselves when we lose oi
selves for Christ's dear sake. Let tl
mind be in you. Remember, the t
gers which made the stars cooked
breakfast for hungry fishermen!
UTom jdints to i\ew converts.
Reunite of Kind Deed*.
Perform a kind action, and yon fi
a kind feeling growing in yourst
even if it was not there before,
you increase the number of objects
your kind and charitable interest, y
find that, the more you do for the
the more you iove them.?William
0. Peabody.
Striking Testimony. {
I have been driven many times
my knees by the overwhelming con\
tion that I had nowhere else to
My own -wisdom and that of all atx
me seemed insufficient for the daj
Abraham Lincoln.
PeirctMl Guidance.
There can be no safe guidance wh.
is not perpetual. The advantage ol
year may be lost in an hour. If
net independently of the Spirit in lit
things we shall look for Him in vi
in great things.?George Bowen.
Fill Your Nlchi>- SB
Find your niche and fill it. If itH^
ever so little, if it is ouly to be n he\^B
and drawer of water, do somethinjE^B
this great battle for God. and trut^H
Spurgeon. 19
Eleventh Hour Weddinc.
A remarkable wedding took plaee^B
Penzance? England, the eontraet^B
parties being Francis Russell Vince^B
a hale widower of eighty-six years, i^B
Annie Harvey, a healthy and actfl^
widow*, aged ninety-six. They are fl|
fives of West Cornwall, but h<^H
known each otlier only n few wee^H
Each lias been married twice
viouslv.
Hot?l Fot Tramps. Wm
A comfortable home for trampe
very ambitious lines has been biSS
In Chicago.