The Abbeville press and banner. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, December 06, 1905, Image 4
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i[V?
1 *\ POIN
| J&J&X _
! \ C
1 BY ^
jj ANNIE J
^ EDWARDS.
^jr^f oc
CHAPTER VII. 7
Continued.
Mr. Clifliero bowed his bond, aud his
lips just moved. "Ho died?on the
hulks; I believe that is tbe propellent).
Miss Grand, Ave have reason
-4o ijelieve tiiat your father died repeutnnt
for tbe great ivrong of bis
life. 1 had a letter from the officer
with bim at tbe last: and this niucb I
kuow, that be died with tbe name of
Jaue?bis little Jane upon bis lips."
"A laugh?say rather a bitter, harsh
i vrt.ii /)?Hit. ?rhnst thp ilrenrv nioekerv
of all her new-slain youth anil happiness.
broke from June Grand.
1 "He dill well to speak of me!?to
leave me bis blessing, perhaps! To
me, who bail better never br.ve lived?
whose daily bread lias been sbame-*who
can think of my father's name
.sxnrt of myself, and of all belonging to
<tUin and to me, oui.y with loathing!
My G od! what can his repentance do
for me?arid for Clifford?"
With that last word her face turned
livid white: her clinched hands dropped
heavily in her lap. Mr. Clithero thought
#be was goin to faint, and rose hastily
to his feet: but she motioned.him to
\"sit down.
"I can hear it out. sir. I can hear it
??ut. Don't comfort me, please, only
tell me the rest I've got to hear. Why
<lid yon ever send me near Yatton?
Why have 1 been brought up in- ignorance
of all this? I should like to
hear it at once, and then?then I will
go home again, if you please. 1 shall
have to speak -to?Mr. Mohun-at once,
you know.''
"If Mr. Mohun is what I take him
to be. lie will not alter, Miss Grand.
You are not accountable for the errors
of those who are dead and gone."
"Ami you think I would uiarry (Jifford
now? You think I would let hlui,
even if he wished, sully his old name
so??give his children such an inheritance
as mine? Ah. well! that is
a subject for him and me' alone, and
ivk needn't speak of it any more. Tell
me why I ever went near Yatton, sir.
' 'and why I have been kept in'ignoranee
.' of what my father's life was? This
all I want to hear. When I have heard
it, I need trouble you no louger."
But Mr. Clithero paused. In all his
fifty years of practice he had never
seen any overwhelming distress borne
t>y a woman as Jane bore this. There
are sOme few women who take grief
hard and fearlessly, as most meu do;
and to look at a girl's face, white and
set, and rigid, is a sight to shock the
least sensitive beholder, even more
-than to see a. man's cheek wet with
unaccustomed tears.
a tlinimlit?in iiifniHrm it
ix UUUllCli luvu^ui nil
must have been?for what could be, a
hard old bachelor London lawyer,
know, either practicaily or theoretically,
of love??made Mr. Clithero divine.
... through what channel the suddenlyfrozen
heart miglit best be reached;
and skilfully, and without seeming art.
did lie contrive to bring in Gifford Mobun's
name when he fulfilled the remainder
of his task. He told Jane
liow Miss Lynch had been led to take
her to Chesterford (Miss flrand must
try to remember all this, because, of
<rourse, Mr. Mohun would wish to hear
every detail connected with her early
-life). Miss Lyuch had been led to take
her to Cbeshterford by merest accident?Mr.
Clithero having heard
' through a country client that the cottage
was to be sold on advautageous
terms, and Miss Lynch wishing to take
her little drooping charge away from
/*" London and bring her up in the pure,
air and quiet of a country village.
4,It was your father's express wish,"
? ? J.1 ,1 (UVini * rt?i Krt A/lirnnfn/1 ill i(T_
lit" Iiuiieu, lUiii j un hk.- rouwiin
itorance of him, of his?history, of his
name even, until you were twenty-one;
auil Miss Lynch and I determined long
rgo that no event except your marriage
need induce us to depart from his
v wishes, even after the age at which
tie decided you should know all."
"l'ou acted wrongly," said Jane, abruptly.
"In tarrying out his wish, you
faave ouly carried out the horrible evil
he wrought nie when 1 was a child. If
Gilford Mohnn had known what I was
from the first, he would not have loved
nie!"
"There is some reason in what jon
say, Miss Grand; but it was not for us
-to know that yon would so early form
a matrimonial engagement?above all,
with a man in the position of Mr. Mo
liun. We were led into a tacit deceit
from the day when you no longer bore
your father's name, and from tbat time
till ibis we have seen no object that
/ could be fulfilled by telling you the
truth."
"Xo longer bore his nnme!"'repeated
-Jane, but quite dully, mechanically,
without interest, the moment she no
longer thought of Gifford.
"Ah! I go by a false name, too! Well,
it doesn't matter?nothing will matter
any more now."
"Your mother's maiden name was
Grandet. and when?when your father
wffB about to leave England, he begged
\hat you might be called by it instead
?T his own. We thought afterward
that a foreign name might lead to suspicion
if borne by an English child, and
we resolved to alter it into Grand.
This is important, also, for yon to remember
and tell to Mr. Mohun. In
drawing out marriage settlements it
wouM. of course be necessary for you
to be designated by your own?by your
father's name."
' Tell it me;"
He told her; a name unknown to her.
but notorious, even to this day. as that
of one of tho systematic, the respectable
defrauders. to whose ranks so
goodly an addition has been made
within the last-few years.
"I shall recollect,' she said (but slip
refrained, as she had already don?,
from using the word "father" to repeat
it.j?'"1 shall recollect all t jU
- : . _.
1 flns
r- 1 - ."' )/ out
OR., ? intt
<>> FOR HER fe nev
T SIN. I bui
?k % & J& 8 ren
fcl? o, K rar
f 1* ^ ? ilia
HONOR.; \ j |
\\ R 110\
me
told mo,"sir. Is there anything more hai
for me to bear?*' mil
"Nothing, my dear Miss Grand. Any jar
other particulars that you may wish to th0
learn Miss Lynch will, no doubt, tell bea
you at some future time. I am sure |jec
you have heard as much as you can jler
bear, together with the fatigue of your hjs
journey, upon one day." jj
"Very"well, sir," she answered, mechanically.
"I am much obliged to you
for alj tbe trouble you have taken for g^e
me; and 1 think .now, if you please, 1 Ben
will get on my road again' 1 have something
to do for Miss Lynch before I go fej\
back to Faddington." L01
She rose to her feet, and knew that aj01
it caused her a strange, unwonted ef- am
l'ort to move. She was not faint, nor ten
trembling, only her limbs felt heavy, nor
inert, cold?as her brain, her heart felt mu
?as it seemed to her all her future life jn
would be until she died. ' cou
Mr. Clithero, at parting, lapsed once flia
more into professional commonplace, par
speaking still of her engagement to jjer
Mohun as a matter of course, and al- 0WI
iuding to what had formed the sub- ?>
ject of their interview, just as he would pas
have done to any other serious family jea,
communication that he had. thought )t sat;
necessary tot make. And Jane took ak0
leave of the ofd man with a feeling of aw.
relief that he prpffered- no Geeper sympathy
aud sought to offer her no con- in ,
doience. sue stoou in neeu ui su^uu exp
that no words spoken by lips of flesli nev
aiul blood could give her.
It was some hours before the time jr
which Miss Lynch had fixed for her to stn
return; and at Mr. Clitliero'S wish, as j
pooi- Jane allowed herself to be taken we
upstairs by the housekeeper, and jtse
promised, passively, to re^t and take as j
some refreshments before starting on nCji
her journey home. She waited, she rajS
swallowed a few mouthfuls of the food twe
that was Set before her?but the merest cari
attempt at rest, or quiet tJbought, made stal
her heartsick. Now that she was alone say
and unconstrained, an irresistible fev- jay(
erish desire to do "something, if only <jut
to get upon her feet and pace restlessly to c
up and down, fell upon her. 0f t
The'-room into which she had been the
shown was the one which Miss Lynch stra
and she had always occupied when tim
they visited Mr. Clithero, and every 0f ^
object it contained was like a familiar onj,
face staring strangely at her in her jja,"
pain. The oltl print of Hogarth's above ber
tlic chimney-piece. "The Antiquated ci,
Lovers," who, when she was a child, siie
she used to think were very like Mr. ^
Clithero and Miss Lynch?the very tea,
grim, painted monsters upon the Chinose
screen?the curves and twistings jiea
In each old-fashioned piece of furni- fror
tnre, seemed to look at her, and twit jja(j
her with the past?the happy, uncon- |10n
scions past?when from these windows jy( j
she had used to look out and think < ]
of London,.(<}veu such a London as the
Upper floor in Russell Square com- u.0l
mauds) as a kind of enchanted city, njg]
ready to- yield up wonders, and pleas- see
ure, and 'intoxicating delights to all ing
such liappy people as had passed the ]
barriers of manhoood and womanhood < >
and might walk abroad, free and un- jn<r.
fettered, beyond the rubicon to Tottenham
Court road?a point at -which Miss ver
Lynch always forced Jane's unwilling tall!
feet to turn when they walked out ?0 j
unescorted. wai
Slie looked through these windows
now, and she saw London as it is?a
countless mass of streets and houses,
holding a countless mass of human be- Tj
ings?hundreds and thousands of them, Pre!
no doubt, sick and bruised, and wear- rem
ied of life like herself, and all callous
to each other's misery and to hers. In
this great Babylon who cared that she to i
was to lose Gifford??that her whole boo
life was dishonored??all ibe sweet and sad!
innocent fountains of her former happi- the
ness poisoned? clea
Already the carriages of Mr. Cli- H
tliero's clients were standing before Dui
the house door; Mr. Clithero himself
would be already deep in other busi- fi'oi
ness, in other family histories, other As
miserable, degrading histories like hers, boy
perhaps; and would have ceased to
think of her. Scarce another person in and
all the rest of London knew her name,
even, much less would care to hear by
whether slie was in misery or in happiness.
Wil
And yet it seemed to her own con- to
-* *? ?;tvnr
sciousness as TUOUgii iier griei uiuai
be greater than all other griefs; as
though it were monstrous, almost impossible,
that the rest of the world Ti
could go on, quiet, and glib, and un- cov
concerned, when she in an hour had On
lost everything that made life worth cho:
living for. What a mockery was the Pas
summer sunshine streaming clear and Chi
golden on the crowded streets! What swc
i nin/?l"*irv \v?>rr> tlmsp r-ltilrirPn's Voices wit!
rising happy from their play upon the squ
grass within Ihe square! The familiar of 1
furniture of the silent room; the sun- fort
shine; the children's voices?all be- tion
longed to something gone; and fevered 190:
her. while they possessed not Ihe exact cori
degree of pathos that could melt her for
into tears. eigl
She felt as though her brain must eroj
turn if she remained longer inert. She or :
must get into the streets; must feel, at croi
least, the stimulus of bodily exertion;
must go to do Miss Lynch's shopping;
drive to the station; walk about the 0
A 1.1?IVi.i.i nmrHiip tiinn nriil (VinQpinilS- t])H
ness by strong physical effort, until ing
?until the hour when she should be win
back at home, and could rest her head bro
for once?for the first and last time in stai
her life?on Clifford's breast. "<
(Clifford! How would he receive her? out
What would he think of her? Had she you
changed? Had she hardened? Had the
she grown plain and haggard in this "I
last hour, which seemed already as ofti<
distant and seVered a period as though Yov
it could be reckoned by years aud not by
by minutes? She walked to the looking-glass,
and at the sight of her own TJ
image there she almost started. Her cas:
ej .-a iooked dark and lustrous, a rich at C
ill tvas on her cheek, the fragile
line ol' lier face seemed softened ?
) fuller and more rounded lines than r
lal. She knew?she felt as she had \
cr felt before?that she was beait- |
il, and she sickened at the thought.
he looked down at her hands?the
oly drooping hands in which every
e vein was showing in sneh distinct- ^
s upon the perfect skin?and she ^
leiubered whose blood it was that ^
i there! Were these-hands of hers,
t Gifford had kissed so reverently,
nied on the likeness of her mother's,
uarueless French actress, or?but
m that darker thought her sokI reted
with a loathing that you and I,
der, may feel thankful we shall ^
or ue a Die quite to iHtuom: iv jw
e, to pity, well-nigh to Jove, llie
mory of tlie man who in his crimes j.
1 not forgotten her, was a state of'
id to which after-years did bring f
ie Grand. Row .she hated the ^
tight of her own life, of her own j
lUty, of the very blood of lier veins
ause she tyas his?his child, the in- .
itor of his money, of his nature, of
shame.
ligid and hardened, even bey.oud t
at she had been at first, she left Mr.
thero's house. Rigid and hardened
went through all she had set her- J
" to do during the remainder of the {
r. At another time she might have *
: shy at going alone into a great
idon shop, and making her way (
ne through London streets, and r
idst the crowd and din of a London '
minus. But she felt neither shyness ^
loneliness now. She seemed not so
eh to be acting in her own person?
the person of the happy blushing
ntry girl who had come up to town
t day?as to be going through a
t in some dreary life remote from
s, and disconnected alike from her
:i past and future.
rbat was a handsome woman," one
senger remarked to another, after {
ring the carriage where Jane Grand
;,"Ueaiitifu],' but witn a, narci iooK
ut her eyes and mouth, that took
iy nil the charm of her good looks."
^-phlegmatic,-stolid young person,
spite of her bloom and youth. An
ressionless, apathetic face, that
er changed a muscle during all the
e T looked at her," was the reply,
or of the soul in its fiercest crises,
tngers read just as much?and just
little, alas!?as the nearest relations
have upon the earth, and the soul 1
If is closed, sealed to all. In moral
n physical death we are alone; and
ther strange nor loving hands can a
e by an inch the veil that is be- ,
en us and them. The vicar's little
riage met her at the Houghton ,
tion, with a message to Miss Grand,
ing that Mr. Follett was still de?d
by close attention to his parochial ,
ies,* but-that'he .hoped to be able t
rail round and see her in the course
he next day. And Jane did not feel f
'Vicar's defection as unkind or
inge or characteristic (as at another
e she would certainly have decided)
lis want of moral courage. She was
f relieved to be alone, and not to '
e to speaK during uie remuinuer m
journey home. Wlicn she got in
fSterford parish, where every face
saw was a familiar one, she felthat
-jvas possible?more frozen and
'less than she had done during all
preceding part of the day. Ker
rt quickened not by a single stroke
n its heavy lethargy, even when she
stopped at the garden gate of
le, and felt poor Miss Lynch's kindLrembling
hands clasping hers,
s Gilford here?"
\To,.Jane, dearest. I thought you
ild be too tired to meet him toit.
He has promised to come and
you the first thing to-morrow morn*
i
lave you told him anything?"
<o, my child, I have told him noth- ,
?> i
l'ovi have done right. Auntie, I am ^
y tired; I -will go to my room and
; no more to-night. I don't want to J
into the parlor, please, and I don't
]t Grace to see me."
(To be continued.)
When Man in in the Kitchen.
be helplessness of mere man in the 1
ence of ordinary domestic tasks, i
arks the Youth's Companion, was s
strated in the case of the old miner, <
> explained that Jie had once tried <
mprovc his cooking by studying a
li of recipes. "It was no use," he
ly confessed, "because every one of
recipes starts off with 'take a 1
,n dish.'"
e was kia to cne of the sons of Mrs. 1
ismuir, a Scotchwoman living in J
nsylvania. She was called away
n home one day just after dinner. ^
she was leaving she said to the 1
s: 1
~ mlll'f' Tfoeh +ho iUehf>? I 1
J11V KJL } VU uiki HUOJ
the other wipe them and put them ^
ly, so that everything will be tidy f
tbe time I net back."
HI right, mother," said Jack, "but 1
l's got to wipe them. I'm willing
wash, but wipiu~ is such greasy 1
k!" 1
]
A Wonderful Western Rcilroad.
be Rock Island system of roads '
ers the West like a giunt cobweb. ,
its perimeter the threads are anred
at New Orleans, Galveston, El
o, Denver, Watertown, St. Paul,
cago and Birmingham. Within the
ep of its arras lie nineteen States,
li an aggregate area of 1,385,000
arc miles; nearly forty per cent, i
the eutire area of the Union, and \
y cities and towns with a popula- t
i of more than 25,000 people. In i
L these nineteen States produced l
i worth $G20,000,000 out of a total s
the country of $750,000,000, or j
ltv-tliree ner cent, of the entire
); and wheat worth $170,000,000, j
forty-eight per cent, of the entire i
d.?World's Work. <
ii
Kasy to Tell Hi? Auto. I
ne of the numerous commodores of <
New York Yacht Club was stand- ]
in the entrance hall the other day
?n two young men in blue serge and 1
wn boots came down the marble l
rwny. i
jood morning, Commodore," sang r
oDe of the young men; "was that ]
r new automobile I saw in front of
Grand Central this morning?"
)id it have a busted tire?'* asked the
?er in reply. "If it did it was mine. *
i can always tell if a car is mine *
noticing if the tire is busted."
be modern bullet will pierce the car- j
ses of three horses in succession t
>50 yards.
r^FOPULAR^V^.
^ ft SCIENCE ^ m
One of the machines exhibited at
he dairy show recently held in Lon011
was a neat contrivance by which
utter could be made out of fresh milk
a sixty seconds at the tea table.
A 22,000-pound blast of dynamite
ras exploded at the Cherokee mine,
lear Chico. Cal., and blew down a
ocky precipice 400 feet high. This
pas done to expose pay dirt behind
he rock.
Traveling kitchens, which have long
teen in use in the Russian Amy and
vhich did much to increase the contort
of the soldiers during the long
tattles of the recent war, are now beng
tried in the French maneuvres,
vith a view to their introduction into
be'French Army.
Attention lias once more been called
o the geological indications that dianond
drifts may exist in the northern
>art of Canada. This idea, t<? which
->r Ami of tliA Canadian Geological
survey, referred in a recent lecture,
s based upon the known discovery of
'ight diamonds in tbe glacial deposits
if Wisconsin, Illinois and Michigan.
The glacial drift in which the dianonds
were found is believed to have
jeen carried down from Canadian ter itory
in the ice age.
If electric phenomena are different
'roin gravitative or thermal or lumin>us
phenomena it does not follow that
electricity is miraculous or that it is
i substance. We know pretty thorjughly
what to expect from it, for it is
ts quantitatively related to mechanical
md thermal and luminous phenomena
is they are to each other; so if they
ire conditions of matter, the presump:ion
would be strongly in favor of eiecricity
being a condition or property of
natter, and the question, "What is
electricity?" would then be answered
n a way by saying so, but such an answer
would not be the answer appar;ntly
expected to the question.
A LIVING OR A LIFE
fbe Difference Between Making and
J ust ltemo
There's a mighty big difference be;ween
making a living and making a
ife.
Almost any *>ne can make a living.
\*ot every one can make a life.
In making a living one may or may
lot have to work hard. In making a
ife?building character?one must do
he hardest kind of wbrk.
Some men have their living made
"or .them. But their lives cannot be
nade for them.
He whose living is made for him by
mother usually makes a poor business
it making a life. He is not used to
vorking at anything.
The canoeist must paddle lard gong
up stream. He can drift down
stream.
So it is easy to drift along making a
iving and failing to make a life. It Is
;asy to lie ahd to deceive. It is easy
:o go with the current. It is easy to
rive way to temptation. It takes
uoral fibre to tell the truth and to
:urn down temptation.
Take lying, for instance. '*
A man can make himself believe
hat a lie can be told with good intenlons,
that thetfe is such a thing as a
'lie of necessity." Once a man adnits
that to himself he is subtly,
joisonously-deceived. The belief gets
nto practice. And the practice is a
joomerang. It reacts on the man's life,
[t weakens his character. Somebody
jas said that even God cannot afford
:o lie in order that good may come.
\nd what God Almighty cannot do a
nan had better not try,
A man deserves no credit for making
i living. He deserves great credit for
naKing a me.
The only thing on earth any man
las a right to be proud of is his charictcr.
It represents something. It
.tands for striving, deprivation,
;leuched teeth, will power?the labor
)f Hercules.?Milwaukee Journal.
Southern Hospitality.
Some years ago one B , of Keokuk
bounty, Iowa, made a wagon trip
:lirough adjacent Southern States. On
lis return, he recounted to his friends
lis impressions of his journey.
"Now, for instance," said he, "I went.
:o a farmer to ask him the way to the
nearest town. It was about 11.30 a.
n., and I wanted to push on; but these
iere Southern fellows is so hospitable
ie would not let me. He says, * 'Light,
itranger, an' come to dinner.' So I 'lit.'
"They had a great big dish of fried
potatoes in the middle of the table,
rhe host pushed the dish towards me
in' says, 'Have some, stranger.' I
:ook a spoonful an' pushed 'em back.
Hie pushed 'em over again an' says,
Have some more, stranger.' I took
mother.spoonftil an' pushed 'em back.
Fie says. 'Take a whole lot, stranger.'
5o I took another spoonful an' pushed
hint Tlinn Iip nnshed 'em over
igain, an' says, 'Take nearly all cf 'em,
stranger.' "?Harper's Weekly.
Tieht Clothes the Fashion.
'"Slimness is the effect that our new
'all and winter fashions aim at," said
:he tailor. "Tight clothes for women
ind tight clothes for men prevail. A
ivoman in a sack-like suit, a man in
lags?when you see such persons oe
sure that they are heckers, pikers,
scads.
"Women must now go well-corseted
md their bodices must fit like a good
vall-paper. Men must hold iktmselves
?re?t, with the stomach in, and their
single-breasted coats must stick to
hem like a plaster, buttoning only at
)iie button, the second, and showing a
ligh-cut waistcoat of flannel.
"Women's skirts must be plain, with
ong, revere lines. Men's trousers must
)e tight enough almost to cause the
evival of the old joke about melting
md pouring the owner in."?New York
Press.
His Duty Done.
A British army officer in India was
iwakened one morning by feeling the
lative servant of a brother officer puling
at his foot. "Sahib," whispered
he man, "sahib, what am I to do?
dy master told me to wnke him at
lalf-past six, but lie did not so to bed j
ill seven." j
?
I
f *
THE GREAT DESTROYER
i
SOME STARTLING FACTS /ABOUT
THE VICE OF INTEMPERANCE. ~
Why YVe Shonlri Hot Drink in Moderation
?By Doing: So Wo Knn the Rink ol
Becoming Sotg ? Snperior Concevity ol
Abstainers.
"tVe ought not to drink in moderation,
because no human being enn be absolutely
certain tbat be will be able to
long remain a "moderate" drinker. Of
the many young men whom 1 have
known, "those who have "done we"-"
sis well as those "who bare "done badly,"
as the world goes. I have never
yet known one who set out as a "moderate
drinker" with any intention to
become or fear of becoming a drunkard.
Every man of them began to
drink with a strong determination to
continue a "moderate" drinker as long
as lie lived. Many of the world's grey
father?, like Noah and Lot, did their
best to be "moderate." but sadlv failed
in their vendtfavor... Yet in par day it is
immeasurably more difficult to preserve
strict moderation than it was in
our race's early history.
We ought not to drink in moderation,
therefore, because we thereby, incur
a risk of becoming intemperate.
We ought not to drink in moderation,
therefore, because even if we were absolutely
certain that we would' never
outstep the bounds of moderation our,
selves, there are all round us in life
young men and maidens, joyously or
timidly engaging in the struggle for
existence, who, whether from inebriate
inheritance or from some other nervous
defect of constitution, are totally unable
(from no misdoing of theirs) to
drink in moderation. They can abstain
and they can drink to excess, but to
drink "moderately" io beyoud their
power. Such handicapped ones are
the very persons generally whose menial'
balance is so delicate, and whose
resisting power is so defective that
they are often the least able to restrain
altogether. If they try to follow your
apparently , safe practice of "moderation"
they cannot continue "moderate"
to the end.
We ought not to dripk ip? moderation,
because this sample is unsafe for a
very large number of persons, who
Citner are oy mneritance or otnerwise
in danger of falling. .
We ought not to drink in moderation,
because intoxicating drinks arc unnecessary
and useless in health. We
need, to live at all. well or ill, fresh
supplies of certain things to repair the
waste of substance, beat, fluid and energy,
which is constantly going on in
body and brain. Does alcohol meet any
or all of these wants? It does not,
nefther does it give healthy tissue nor
internal vital heat (though it makes our
skin hoi) nor any innocent liquid, not
even in force. Alcohol cannot build
up a sound frame. Although it makes
ns feel warm, it robs us of our very
life's heat, and if too much withdrawn
from us, leaves us?too cold to live. Wo
are practically two-rthirds water, which
conveys the nourishing matter over tne
system, cleanses :our bod es and pre-,
serves our personal identity like a
liquid paste or glue. Every addition
of alcohol impairs this threefold benefi
cent capacity or nature s Deverage,
"honest water that left no sinner i'
the mire." Therefore moderate drinking
is extravagance alike for body and
for purse. What we pay for our
liquor, if intoxicating, is simply wasted,
wasted as if we threw our money
into the ocean.
We ought not, therefore, to drink in
moderation, because moderation is
wasteful, extravagant and uneconomical
physically and financially.
We ought not to drink in moderation,
because this is a practice injurious to
health. Alcohol Is an irritant poison.
It irritates and inflames the stomach,
liver, kidneys and other vital organs,
overworks the heart and disturbs the
brain; not much, perhaps, at first, but
certainly in the long run. Of drunkenness-1
do not speak. No one defends
that nowadays. I limit what I say to'
so-called "moderate" steady drinking.
We ought not to drink in moderation.
Decause mereuy we ujuuimsu uui
chances of long life. Superficial or unskilled
observers do not' see beneath
the surface. The moderate drinker often
looks ruddy and robust, the teetotaler
pale and shrinking. But the battle
is not always lo the flushed in face.
I have known "moderate" people die
unexpectedly and quickly fifteen and
twenty years before the average term
of life. The seeming mystery'was repealed
when their bodies were opened
after death.
As one, so many, he died in twenty
minutes after a little extra exertion.
Though there had never been a suspicion
of his temperance, his liver and
heart were found pierced with fatty
degeneration. The irrefragable, proof
of the.superior longevity of abstainers
lies in the records of various insurance
societies. The abstainers have a higher
bonus because they live from Solhe
fifteen to twenty pet cent, longer than
the non-;ibstainers, drunken lives Being,
of course, excluded. '
We should not drink in moderation,
therefore, because we would thereby
tend to shorten our lives.
There are many good reasons why we
should avoid drinking entirely. I will
add only one more. Alcohol, in any appreciable
quantity, reduces muscular
force and lessens mental sharpness.
Carefully conducted experiments have
shown this. Other conditions being
equal, alcohol takes the keen edge off
our perceptive faculties, so that we
take some seconds longer to see an object.
while it mocks us by causing us
to think that we have seen it sooner.
So with thought. Thus is it that an
abstainer can often do business more
to his own advantage when the person
with whom he is dealing ban taken a
glass of wine or spirits. Alcohol is a
reducer, a blinder, a paralyser.?Dr.
Norman Kerr.
A Temperance Straw.
Hon. William S. Caine. M. P.. of
England, at a reception in New York
I r-i+t. /-.ii n^fnhcv oo TSflS stated that
Lord Roberts, Commander-in-Chief,
bad said to bim tbat one-tbird of tbe
British Army jn India, 24,800 out of
75,000. furnish 2000 more effective
troops than tbe other twc-tbjrds, who
are not abstainers.
German .Student* Interested.
Tbe temperance movement is making
considerable progress amoug German
students.
A Dint to Rockefeller.
Mr. Rockefeller's vigorous crusade
against tbe drink habit might be carried
on in a more practical way. There
are plenty of preachers against rum.
Let tlie multi-miilionaire buy the
Whisky Trust and all tbe breweries,
and then put the price so high that
nobody can afford to buy.?New York
Press.
An Active Crtwsrier.
A. E. Eccles. of Chorley, England,
has distributed 40.000,OU!) publications
relating to temperance, hygiene, poiilics
and leMcioii.
/
- - - '
A MORNINC SONG.
I Tvake this morn, and all my life
Is freshly mine to live;
The future with sweet promise rife,
And crowns of joy to giv?. ??
y\
.New words to speak, new thought* to
hear,
New love to give and taJce;
Perchance new burdens I may "bear,
For love's own sweetest sake.
New hopes to open in the sun,
New efforts worth the will,
Or tasks with yesterday begun
More bravely to fulfill.
fresh seeds for all the time to be
Are in my hand, to sow, ,
IT/UamaUx AfliAM Qn/1 fnr ma
' T IJCi CUJ . 1U1 UHIVIC UUU iUi M1V;
Undreamed of fruit may grow.
In each wbtte daisy'"mid the grass
That turns thy foot aside.
In each uncurling fern I pa??.
Some sweetesUjoy may hide.
And if whei eventide shall fall
In shade across my way,
It seems that naught my thoughts recall
But life of every day.
Yet if each step in shine or shower
Be where Thy footsteps trod, '
Then blest be every happy hour ,
, That leads me nearer God.
?Chambers' Journal.
Where Shall We Find Happineert
Vanity of vanities; all is vanity.?
Eeclesiastes, i., 2.
Fear God and keep His commandments,
for this is the whole duty of
man?Ecclesiastes, xii., 33.
These are the opening and dosing
words of one of the most remarkable
books of tbe Old Testament. Tbfe
book is not only melancholy, but also
pessimistic, written by the Wealthiest,
wisest'mag o? ancient times. Without
taking the time to review the history
of King Solomon, the acknowledged
author of these words, we may say
that probably no man was ever more
favorably circumstanced for testing
the power of mere earthly things to
confer happiness on the soul.
He had great wealth, position, power,
learning, fame?all those things ordfnari'.y
regarded as essential to happiness.
And yet he describes himself as
the unhappiest of mortals. The wottd
came to him with its best, and he knew
and appreciated, too, what was best in
that which he sought, and yet he cried,
"Vanity!" .' ?
Nor are we to understand that the
things to which, he gave himself with
such passionate devotion were all improper
or useless. Some of them were
highly improper, but,others, in.their
own place, were of great importance
and value.' To be Hcli, to be learned,
to be powerful, ..were in themselves
ambitions not to be ignored. His quest
for happiness in itself was not to be
TJi? nnssinn fnr Tlleasure was
wholly legitimate, but the principle or
method of its gratification was erroneous;
consequently, he was doomed to
disappointment.
Solomon failed to realize that happiness
is a thing of the soul, and that the
soul is infinitely greater than any or all
of the things of the world, and carries
a potency of seemingly infinite development.
.Toward the end of his checkered
and embittered career he realized
his mistake and made the discoverey
that the spiritual transcends the material;
that only as the human soul
seeks to live in tlie fear?which really
means the favor?of God and keeps
His commandments can the soul possess
triumphant peace and overflowing
ioy.
The closing words of the foregoing
paragraph are among the tritest utterances
of the modern preacher. But
they need to be repeated over and over
again to the weary, disappointed, dejected
multitudes of pleasure seekers
of our day. As old Froissart said, we
take our pleasures too sadly, aye, too
ignorantly. Not work, not religion,
but enjoyment is the business of the
bour. That much of it is frivolous
and harmful makes little difference;
people will be frivolously and perniciously
happy rather than not be happy
at all. If happiness cannot be obtained
in a wholesome and helpful way it will
be sought in ways that injure and demoralize.
And this passion for-happiness
is a God created instinct. It exists
just as truly in the bosom of the
ascetic as in the bosom of the socalled
man of pleasure.
But the way in which happiness is
found?that is the question. One man,.
as a worldling, finds it in "agreeable
sentiments and sensations;" another,
as a patriot, in dying for his
country; another, as a martyr, at the
burning stake, in his witness for the
truth. But do not these men illustrate
for us the great psychological fact that
human happiness varies according to
the different stnges in the evolution of
the soul? Differing in their conceptions
of happiness, they are one in
this, that happiness is essentially a
good. The difference is in the kind of
happiness and the kind of good.
The trouble with Solomon and all
other men who have sought happiness
as he did has been their failure to enter
this clearer, upper region, where all
lewer pleasures tire sublimated into
holier, diviner forms. Other men have
hppn striDned of all outer good,' of
every comfort of the body nnd of every
enjoyment of the senses, but they have
entered into joys so sublime, so transcendant.
that all other pleasures become
insignificant in comparison.?Rev.
William C. Stinsou, D. D.. Bloomingdale
Reformed Church, Manhattan, in
the New York Sunday Herald.
"Grace Ever Gntntrlps Prayer."
I would have everyone carefully consider
whether he has ever found God
M V?Je nirn lioarf
iaiJ XI 111 J 111 UJill nucu 1.1c v.. u uvm..
had not failed him: and whether he
has not found strength greater and
greater given him according to his
day: whether he has not gained clear
proof on trial, that he has a divine
power lodged within him, and a certain
conviction withal that he has not made
extreme trial of it or reached its limits.
Grace ever outstrips prayer.?
Ne-ivman.
Hat* Precipitate a Itiot.
The objection of some women in
Berne, Switzerland, to removing their
hats caused a riot in a theatre. The
women paid no attention to the shouts
of the crowd back of them, and finally
one of the attendants forcibly removed
some of the offending headgear. A riot
ensued, and the management put out
the lights. The place was soon emptied,
but the fight continued for some time
in the street.
New Submarine# Bulldlnc.
A large number of submersiblcs are
being bfilt in Cherbourg. ^
'
%
THE SUNDAY SCHOO:
j
?????
INTERNATIONAL LESSON COMMENT
FOR DECEMBER 10.
Subject: Reading and Obeying the Utl
Neb. vlli., 8-18?Golden Text, In?
*1., 88? Memory Verm, IT, 18- Com
mentary on the Day's LewonI.
Studying God's word (vs. 1-8
The people were gathered in this grei
meeting from the surrounding countr
from 20,000 to 50,000 in number. ]
was the time of the feast of Trumpeti
Trumpets were blown everywher
They proclaimed a day of rejoicinj
The people called for Ezra, the scrib
to bring out the book of the lata an
read to them. Here is the first mei
tion of Ezra's name in the book of N<
hemiah. It is thought that he ha
been absent during the past thirtee
years, "perhaps working as a scribe i
copying and studying, and perhaps pu
ting in shape the book of the law. H
seems to have returned at the oppo:
tune moment. This great compan
had gathered on purpose to he?r. 3$
words of the book he had copied An
probably edited."
8. ,"So they read." Ezra and thii
teen representative men from Jerdsi
lem, standing upon an elevated pte
form, read the Scriptures, in turn, f<
six hours or more. "In the book.
Books in those days were wide strip
of parchment rolled upon sticks, one c
either end, so that one side was rolle
up as the other was unrolled to rea<
The writing was in parallel column
across the strip and read from right t
left "Distinctly." So that every wor
could be distinctly heard. This ws
the first way in which they caused th
people to understand. "Gave th
sense." The Israelites having bee
lately brought out of Babylonish C?]
tivity, ib which they had continue
seventy years, were not only corrup
bat they tad In general lost the know
edge of the ancient Hebrew to such
degree that when the book of the la1
was read they did not understand S
Therefore the Levites translated it to'
the Chaldean, dialect.: "Cm^eti/the
to understand." . They gare bptbv
translation of tli?. Hebrew wordstaj
. the Cbaldee'aiid?an ejpoBitlpn^of'Jvi
things contained in them, and of til
dnty incumbent upon them. II.
A day of rejoicing proclaims
(vs. 0-12). ,
9. "Nehemiah ? the Tirshatha
Hitherto Nehemiab has called himse
pechah?the ordinary word for "go
ernor." Now be is called Tirshatha,
more honorable and reverential 1
tie for governor. The new .title
among tbe indications that this po
tion of the book is written by ip
other. "This day is holy." Mournln
was unsuitable for a day of high fe
tivity, tbe opening day of the elvfij
year and of the sabbatical mosth, ifl
self a sabbath or day of rest, and oil
to be kept by blowing of trumpefl
(Lev. 23:24, 25; Num. 29:1-6). It n|
pears that the people were not oniyi j
norant. of their ancient language,, bt
liso of the rites and ceremonies of tlie
religion, not being permitted to obsert
them in Babylon.. "All the 'peo#
wept." They realized how differs
their lives had been from the lives con
mnnded by God: They had failed 1
personal duty. They had failed In tt
public worship of God. They, ht
failed as a nation.
10. "Eat and drink." Observe God
appointment. They should testify tl
genuineness of their repentance by tl
faithfulness with which they kept tt
feast. "Send portions." It was an o
dinance of God that In these feasts tl
poor should be specially and liberal
provided for (Deut. 15:7-11; 16:11-18
"Neither be ye sorry." We must n
be merry when God calls us to movi
Ing. We must not afflict ourselvi
when God has given us occasion to r
joiee. Even our sorrow for slnne
must not hinder our joy in God'fl Be
vice. "Joy. of the Lord." A constfou
ness of God's favor, mercy and loi
suffering. 11. "Levltes stilled all tl
oeoole." Hushed their loud lamen$
tion. Emotion needs control wtoen
Is in danger of running into mere*ph!
sical excitement. .
12. "Because they ? understood!
They now knew God's will and the!
own duty, which they resolved to prfll
tiee. This gave them ground of hod
and trust in God's mercy, and therfl
fore gave them great Joy. H
III. Directions concerning the feafl
of the tabernacles (vs. 13-18). Durlifl
the reading of the law the people s&H
how they had neglected to keep t*
feasts as they ought and they imni&fl
ately proceeded to observe the feast^
the tabernacles. H
14. "Found written." See Lev. 2H
33-44. "Booths." The people wefl
commanded to leave their houses an
dwell in tents or booths made of tjlH
branches of "thick trees." "SeveoS
month." The month Tishri or EtfeH
nlm. This was the seventh month fl
the sacred or ecclesiastical .year aaH
the first month in the civil year, fl
15. "Should publish." The meanhfl
here is that they found it written ihfl
they should do ttie Tilings meuuuu?
in this verse. "The -mount" TB
mount of 01ive3 which was near H
where were many olive trees and prqH
ably tbe other trees bere mention**
16. "The roof." The roofs of tH
houses were flat and easy of acce^J
"In their courts," etc. There weH
booths everywhere; the city was fillH
with them. 17. "Sat under ? tl
booths." They were to dwell in bootH
seven, days, from the 15th to the 2fl
of the month. Their dwelling in bootM
commemorated their forty years'
journ in the wilderness when they hS
do fixed habitations. "Since the dayfl
etc. The meaning cannot be that tlH
feast had not been observed since tH
time of Joshua, for il was kept at th^H
return from Babylon (Ezra 3:4), bH
since Joshua's time the joy had uev*
been so great as now. 18. "SoleiH
assembly." The first and last days H
ihe feast were kept as sabbaths. H
Tfouiau Kan* an Engine.
Mrs. G. AV. Manning, who lives
en miles south of Monroe, Mo., is pr^H
ably the only woman engineer in Mifl
ouri. Her husband operates a sawml
and for two years Mrs. Manning In
acted as engineer. Mr. Manning sa^|
L nui IV IUU J cuio Ue,v *men
at different times. as engineH
all of -whom were more or less unsa^H
factory. Upon one occasion tbe fi>H
neer did not sbow up. My wife t^J
mn in 4utn? ortcinp AVPr to
my surprise she bandied the engine H
right and we did one of the best da^|
work of the season. For two ye^f
she has run the eugiue with little
pense for repairs."
Two-Headed Snake. H
One of the oddest freaks of rept^|
life ever seen in Danbury, Conn.. w^E
killed by William Bigbnni. It wan^B
snake witli two distinct beads aflfl
was sunnii;? itself on a West Sl?*^?
sidewalk when Mr. Higfcnm disc<^H
Fined Because of Its Scslcif 01
A coal company at Aberdare. SonH
Wales, was fined recently for havflj
incorrect scales.