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" 9 i 2\ POIN S ~.\ c 5 ANNIE V T J ^ I " I ft j EDWARDS. \ CHAPTER X. 12 Continued. "Jane, I hope it won't shock yon tc (hear Low utterly I despaired?I, a minister of the gospel of submission? How 1 turned my heart against God, 'an<l refused to see wisdom or love in the way that He ha<I df>alt with me! I . hope it wpn't shosk-you too much if I confess the whole truth about my . self?" "Shock me! it heals mo!" cried poor Jane, the great tears starting in he? eyes. "Why, sir, I have done nothing but despair ever since that morning I saw the Tennanls at cur door. At first I liked to say all tlie hard miserable things I could, but the last few days I seem to have got even beyoiul that; and I can't pray, Mr. Follett, and I don't think I want to pray, or to be xemembered of God at all. Oh, sir! (was your heart as black as that? Tell me, lor yog have lived, and grown human and good agaiu, and 1 shall believe "what you say. Miss Lyneh's counsels don't touch me. She doesn't know what it is to be sick unto death!" The vicar looked earnestly into iliss brand's feverish eyes. "Jane," said he, gravely, "however ?lark your state may seem to you, I can not to be overwhelmed?I ought to take ;a long holiday?I ought to try to lorget myself and my sorrows in attending closely to my duties?I ought to do anything but that which, withont any twill of mine, nature was all the time filowly doing for hei*self. At last I "bethought me of seeing no friends ' N at all. I left my letters unopened. I refused admittance to visitors.. To those I met" in my rare walks abroad I nh'<tnl'ntplv 7irvr>nsuihl?> onnort unitv ??4 - K ------ -M'M-f t'oi* obtruding their opinions on my / state. And so, lonely and stubborn in . my grief, the months wore on, and I came to the first winter of my new V- life. . ' "Jane, you ioek tired, and my story is just over. One dull November morning?I remember it more vividly than any summer day in my life?1 came in, as ray habit was, after my early morning walk rouiid my litle glebe. I ihad been sensible, as 1 -walked, of that quickening of blood which the raw . breath of a winter morning brings about, whether we will or no, within our veins. I had been sensible already of the glitter upon 1 lie bare and icicJed hedges when they first received the glitter of the rising sun. 1 had heard the lowing of the cattle across the misly fields, the low chirp of the xobins amoug the leafless orchard trees; <but when, fresh from the morning in fluence, I came into my study, where rthe fire burnt strong and cheery, and my cup of coffee stood ready, and my ... - "books, like friends' faces, looked at me from the walls, I suddenly knew? yes, God be thanked! I knew that I liked to live, and that this love of mere Jife, more potent than all reasoning or effort of my own, would heal me, <a?d that, bereft and lonely and wound -ed, I should yet live again aud lie | rsvhole. "Jan<?. all my sermon is over, and 1 think it comes to this: A j)ower of which we know nothing?a power stronger than our wisest efforts, iBtronger than our worst griefs?is at rnork for us always. Nature's efforts are for life, not death, and at her time, .and not sooner, comes the crisis from rwlience we are to mend, even as I mended, as thousands yet more heavily s smitten than either you or I, child. ? ihave mended already." And seizing his hat and gloves the vicar ipse to his feet, and, before Jane f <rould thank him, or Miss Lynch wayJay him, had escaped from the cottage. ^ An J late that evening Miss Grand i 1 . . i ' - . . -answer for it that mine was darner. If anything you have thought seeihs to n your conscience rebellion, be sure I . have known the weight of such rebellion a hundred fold more intensely. 'And yet I live, Jane! live, and, in a certain restricted sense, am happy, and feel that nay despair at its blackest (was but a child's passionate outcry, and that out of it has risen an unchanging, quiet content, which it seems to me only those can know who have gone in their youth through an excess of happiness and of misery. "You or I,. Jane, could not live out life as Miss Lynch does, if we had not early made shipwreck of one-half, at Jeast, of the capabilities that are in us. 'And yet Miss Lynch is rather a favorable-example of what most lives, aftermaturity, must become?an uneventful, monotonoy^ seqtf^nce of tasteless, small, ambition less eyenls?very much Jike my own, in short !n:w Passion lees, commonplace natures can take such things in their appointed course, and <iesire nothing beyond the commonplace. inevitable lot. People who iwould have the world a paradise ncnl *harp purgation before they can - be brought to endure the world as it is! And to the soul that has once arisen out ol* such depths as you and I are ?peaking of, Jane, quiet, calm monotony, the sense of not suffering even J- 1 ?" * +r> Irn mi; wfll'd for is w elcome, juvi* I wuv u>; ~ ? this?don't think J can expect you lo see it in the liglit I do; only let rue tell you how 1 reco\ered, Vnd you ? ?hall tell ine?a year hence, perhaps? twbether you, too, have not learned that existence even as existence, -without any violent hope, without any especial object, is not something exceeding sweet to possess. "You have not been assisted by many counselors, child; but perhaps you know enough of the nature of consolation to understand ine when I say that the heaviest part of my chastisement came to me through my friends. They .visited ine, wrote to me, implored me, advised me?by their own accounts they prayed for me, but they very nearly drove me mad. 1 ought to bow humbly?I ought to make an effort and % or- X X FOR HER i \ FATHER'S \ T \ SIN- | n* \J& I HONOR; \ >o*r^*r*r*^^srir'*rw,'W'*r'K recollected that sbe had never asked the rjuestion the solution of which had been her primary object in sending for Mr. Follett?namely, how many more months of slow, consuming misery he believed it would take to bring her to death. And iate that evening, and deep on into the night (although it was Saturday, an unfinished sermon lay open upon his study table), two considerations pressed heavily upon the vicar of Chesterford's mind; first, that Jane Grand was far more beautiful to liiin in her grief and sbame and sickness than she had been in all tbe first flush of her joyous youth; secondly. that he was himself eigbt-andthirty, tl^at all his belief in happiness, as founded on :i woman's love, had been uprooted fifteen years before, and that he, the plain, studious, eccentric country parson, was th<i. least likely man on earth to replace Gilford Mohun of Yatten in Jane Grand's heart. CHAPTER XI. When, they met again all tbat bad passed between Mr. Follett and Jane at tins first interview seemed as though it had not been?a page of brief confidence by mutual, tacit consent shut and sealed and to be opened no more. The vicar made no deeper inquiries than as to Miss Grand's bodily strength/-blended-with little schemes of his own for recruiting tbe same; and, as far at least as Jane was concerned tbev crew a train to be once more on the old terms of familiar intercourse which had sweetened so many years of the vicar's life before the fatal advent of Gilford Mohun and his love. ' And Jane returned to comparative health and her former employments, and patience, and gentleness. She was very long in feeling the slightest taste for living; and when at length such taste -did come, it was by slow and capricious approaches, and with very long intervals ol tne oi(l ciuji loatning. Her nature was not a .facile one in its capabilities for more common, sensuous enjoyment. If she ljad cared for nature before her engagement with Gifford. it must Lave beeu because she peopled it for herself with unsubstantial visions of future sentimental happiness. She c-nred for it with him simply because she was with him; and twilight woods or midday garden sunshine formed an agreeable auxiliary, or background, to one principal figure? 'Mr. Gifiord Mobuu. The raw air and frosty hedges of a red November morning, contrasted with firelight and coffee and books, could never have wrought any strong sense of enjoyment in life in her as in Mr, Follett. She was?like the majority of women in tLeir youth?quite callous to sensational or creature com foil; and this kind of temperament is a much harder one to be appeasted:under,mental-suffering I on + CfOtlQll VlVill OHP11 to every outward and visible source of | consolation like. Mr. Follett's. Men forget how great an advantage they have over women in this respect. No one woman in lifty has the faculty for loving self heartily. A human being who always relishes his wellcooked food jind comforting beverages ?a human being whose physical energies prompt him every day of his life to ride and walk, who finds zest in billiards or stimulus in books, and a vigorous sense of gratification in all. has l'ar more numerous chances of rallying under affliction than a _ human being who cares not for her dinner, who drinks water on principle, whose nature is averse to every kind of bodily exercise, whose amusement is hemming. and whose intellectual capabilities are probably too weak to require any mention at all. ]t was not in .lane's temperament, now that she Lad once loved, to derive hearty nutriment from any other con dition of existence than love. And love was so.no! Wli.it remained for her but to drift imo that dull, tideless, stagnant sea toward which all lives must tend that are passed without enjoyment? the*life to which unmarried women, the gentle and loving ones especially, seemed forced to succumb? I She was seldom impatient?in words she never complained; but the tone of her voice, the expression of her face. I the droop of her bend, were quite enough to tell any one experienced In such ihings thai she lived without happiness and that no action in the day inspired her with ibe slightest real in[ tc-rest. At onc-and-twenty she felt older than most commonly-contented married women do at forty. She knew that only yne state-would have made her happy, and that she had missed j that state; and she had not strength I of mind enough to take to any other vocation than the one for which she felt herself to bo specially designed, and of which an unkindly fate had robbed her. Happily for us all. the progress of one mortal disease impedes for the time that of another?the heart has nniv rnnm for onp irrent nncuish at a time. In losing tiifford. Jane Grand lost ali; and. the shame of her own birth seemed almost unimportant in presence of that overwhelming misfortune which had laid her whole immediate and personal happiness low. Miss Lynch, who could understand small passions better than great ones, pronounced many eulogies over Jane's Christian submission to her new knowledge, when the poor girl, in reality was not so much submitting as feeling nothing. It. was when all the freshness was gone from her master sorrow, when it had become, so to speak, part of herself?of her daily meat and drink?that Jane began to think much of her own fearfully low social position. And then she found, almost with surprise, how very scant the pity was that she had felt for her . 1 -ii*. . ait" v.. scjf. 1 u l.?r cut-off existence, husband or children ..or. household interests, it was really ol so very lit'#* importance whether she lind inherited honor or a name of shame. What had she to do with the hopes and fears, and sweet ambitions for the future, that alone could make such a heritage a thing of vital importance? And so. existing rather than living, months and then years (years which would have been the best ones of Jane's womanhood) crept along. She heard not infrequently of Mohun, through indirect channels, during these years; but he never wrote tor a single letter, and?except a day or two at Christmas, when he.came down to look over accounts with his steward?ho never visited Yatton. "What she heard of him was net news of a very eonsoling nature. Perhaps, under such circumstances, it is difficult for any i:ews of the one who lives 1o be consoling to the one who mourns and vegetates. In the lirst place, and before their engagement had been broken off a year, eame word that Mr. Mohun was to be married in hot haste to an earl's daughter, a woman several years cider than himself, and who. even in her youth, had never been the pos sessor 01 grace or ue.uuv. "He marries for rank," thought Jane. "Birth without love, Sooner than n:y paternity and such love as 1 could have given him."' And it tool-: something from the bitterness of tiie tears with which she wept over her wedding ring to think of the years cf the woman on whose marriage day she must put it from her breast: and that Gifford. although he was going to take a wife, had not forgotten her enough tc takeio his heart another love. The marriage was broken off?some said by the lady, ethers, better informed I fancy, by Gilford himself. Tossibly his pride revolted at the thought of the immense superiority of his wife's position over his.own:-possibly his heart revolted at the nearer prospect of pos tossing {lie face lov wnose ancesiuio be proposed to sacrifice himself. Jane, cl course, gave him .credit for the latter motive. It was so delightful to hope that the remembrance of her prevented Giffonl from beinj; led away (poor Jane!) by any unwortbier feeling than love;,and when the news came that his engagement was definitely over, licr ring was consigned more fondly than ever to its place of keeping. and Mr. Mohnu exalted, if possible. to a higher pedestal than before in her regard. There was .mother report of his marriage in the following year. This time tlif> hriilp was vounjr and prettj', only daughter of a rich city merchant; and this time, beyond all possibility of .-.doubt., it was, the bride-elect herself who played Gifford false at the last? marrying her own first cousin, a gentleman, in Birmingham, whose income exceeded'by about six times that of Ihe heir of Yatton. And all who saw Gifford Mohun now declared his disgust and disappointment to be oxtremely genuine; and he grew very cynical indeed, people said, on the subject of loy> and marriage and young ladies generally; and .Tnr.e Grand, who had this'time laid aside her wedding ring during the heat of the engagement, hung it submissively around her neck again on the renewal of Mr. Mobun's freedom, and told Mr. Follett she considered it a very merciful thin/? the marriage had not taken place, for she knew Gififord's sense of honor was far too delicate for him ever to have been really and entirely happy with a wife to whj>m he owed his wealth! And after this there were no more reports of Mohun's marrying; indeed. few - reports of any kind about him wbicii reached Jane Grand's ears. Once, only, at Christmas, when he came down as usual to Yatton for twenty-four hours, she chanced to see his face through a cottage window as he was driving back to the station, and sue then saw that, lie had altered much?his sunburnt, boyish face grown pale and old befoTe its time; and she wondered was it for love of her, or foi the lady Sophia, or for the city heiress! and said a very lonjr prayer for Gifford as she kuelt at her bedside that night. And this was the iast Christmas when MoLuti came down to settle accounts with his steward, and the old bouse feil more and more out of repair, and weeds grew over the garden where lie and Jane' had walked during the summer nights of their brief engage meni. ami an nie care ut-siuivcu ni>u?i jatton by its owner was the felling yearly ol much timber to supply him with ready money for the payment of hi.? continually Increasing debts. (To be continued.> "^Villle'o Mintake. Speaking of the turtles that were recently found in Jersey, bearing dates of lifty and sixty years ago, recalls an incident that once occurred on the farm of the late Henry I. Deacon, a well-to-do and influential resident of the land beyond the Delaware. A youngster, who was fond of roaming over the fine, well-kept farm, found a turtle one day and it occurred to him to make it one of the ancient date. Nothing short of the George Washington era would do. So. taking out his. penknife, the boy inscribed, "G. W.. 1770." 011 the reptile's shell. The cutting, of course, looked very modern, but this- was easily remedied by ruobing it in mud and polishing it on the grass. This done to the satisfaction of the boy, he rushed to the jolly-faced farmer. exclaiming: "Look, Mr. Deacon, I just found a fnrtlo mnro than 100 vears old with Oieorgc Washington's initials on the shell!" "Tliee has?" said Mr. Deacon, holding out liis hand for the turtle. "Yes, sir," returned the youngster with a very straight face. The good old fanner glanced at ilie reptile just cue second, and then burst out into a merry laugh. "Willie, thee fool.'' said he. "that turtle isn't halt' grown."?Philadelphia Telegraph. jF"* Ttirtle on Cow's Foreleg. Farmer Edmund P. Newell, who lives near Bordentown, N. J., was startled recently by a sudden kick from a cow he was milking. He was sent sprawling. On regaining his feet he discovered that the cow had stepped on a turtle, which had fastened itself to her fore< leg? Philadelphia Telegraph, ' aN v: V. _ - * A I5Q-T0N LC ii i i " 11 I I I. J The 350-ton. travelling oraDC show; Iron Trade Review) lias been erected loading. It is .1 steam crane, despite driven liolsts are enjoying at presen' The boom of the crane also exhibi through a complete circle. In the re of the "wharf, anchor supports project with the movement of the load. THE STATUE OF THE SUMER3AI KING DAVID. By Erlgar James B.iDk. Field Director 0 the Eftbylonian Expedition ol the University of Chicago. I The white marble statue of thi Sumerian King David was discoveret by the expedition of the University o Chicago while cxcavating at the cor ner of the ancient temple hi]] at th( ruin known as Bismya, in Centra THE 8TAT0E OP THE 6UMERI.AN E1NI DAVID, FOUSD AT IISMYA, BABXLONIA, AND BELIEVED TO DATE BACK TO 4500 B. C. Babylonia. Despite the discoveries o the fine old crematorium, the first tha has come to light, and of the use o the arch in Babylonia as early a <4000 B. C., the finding of this ancien work of almost prehistoric art is on' of the most interesting results of th expedition. When fount! it was.-lyini upon its back, its head was missing and the toes, which were broken frofl the feet at the time of its fall fron the platform above, were lying jus beneath it. The hfad was later rf covered from another part of the ruir In places, especially upon its face, i an incrustation of saltpeter, commoi to objects which have long been buriei in the soil of Babylonia; other part of the statue are as perfect as whei it left the hands of its sculptor. The statue is SS centimeters big! and 81 in the circumference of it skirt. The hfad is bald, the fac beardless, the triangular eye sockets to which ivory eyeballs were once fit led and held in place by means o bitumen, are now hollow. The shoul ders are broad and square, the bod; thick and short, the well-shaped arm are free from me noay, anu me nanus according to tlie usual Babyloniai cus-tora, arc clasped in front. The up per half of the statue is nude, am from the waist is suspended an em broidered or pleated skirt intended ti represent heavy wool or fur. To giv< support to the statue, the bare fee are imbedded in the pedestal. "Upoi the right shoulder, the clearly out in scription of three lines in the ok Sumerian or pre-Babylonian language reads as follows: (The Temple) Eshar, King Daudu (Daud?Dav.'d), ? King (of) Udnunki. The name of the king is entirelj new to Assyriologists. The names o the city and temple were first reac upon the great stone of Hammurabi recently discovered by the French n Persia. The age of the statue is beyonc doubt several centuries more than sii thousand years; the approximate dat( of 4u(M> B. C. is fixed in several differ I PUt wavs. First, the archaic character of the writing is that employed only in lh( inscriptions long antedating the earl} Babylonian king, Sargon, of 3800 B C. The characters of the inscription are lineal and nearly hieroglyphic; tl)( wedge-shaped characters were not ye developed. Second, the statute when found wa; lying beneath the platforms of sev era! reconstructed temples. The up permost of the platforms contains bricks inscribed with the name o: Dun&i, of 2750 E. C.; beneath it wai a platform constructed of tEe brick! of Sargon, 3S00 B. C.; still lower weri traces of several other reconstructions The statue was beneath all of these among the ruins of a temple built ol small plano-convex bricks "which al Assyriologists assign to the middle o the fifth millennium B. C. Third, the style of the art, the tri nngular-shaped eyes, the nose forming n straight line with the forehead, tb( 6tyle of dress employed only at tha' '.v. , L| IADING CRANE. i a above (tbe illustration is from the at Duisburg, Germany, for boat untbe marked favor which electricallyt. ts a peculiarity that it does not swing ar of tbe machine, fastened to tbe edge and at tbe same time do nof interfere | particular period, identify it as belonging to the same age as the famous bas-relief in the Louvre and a statuj ette in the British Museum. The great Assyriologists of Europe assign tbe figures possessing these peculiar char5 acteristics to about 4500 B. C., and 1 no Assyriologist of repute, and who [ is acquainted with Ihe earliest Baby. Ionian art, would question the date. 5 . The statue,, fully,, 1500 yearfc ..earlier. \ than any other from Babylonia, not only presents history with the name of a * forgotten king; it is a perfect specimen of the'most ancient art in the -world, and opens a new chapter in the history of the earliest known people of Mesopotamia.?Scientific American. HOOKS TO HOLD THE MEAT. s Until carviDg is taught in the public schools as a part of the general program of education the average man will never becoiioe an artist as a carver. There are very few people who can _ develop a system without having a foundation plan of some sort for a guidance, and, despite the universality of the cook-book in the modern home, very few- njen ever reach that perfection in .'their' allotted task that'they look for in the housewife in the culin- [ ? -n- - I ary department, nowever, uue jjjstructlons'to cut along the line 0 D ' to the line A B, etc., are no longer as cabalistic in significance as they once were. True, the primitive appliances for carving have for the most part not .improved much, except in the matter of form or shape; but this is all to be changed in the'near future, as a Chicago inventor has devised a carving 3 appliance that should make the task almost mechanical. This device is a meat holder for carving platters, the Q .jfe |R S.. e lJ' (j HOOKS ON THE MEAT TLATTBB. j genera] scheme of which can be floen at a glance from the accompanying illustration. The frame consists of expansile ble members having hooked portions adapted to engage with the edges of ' the platter, and, of course, adjustable _ to any size. These arms carry 'hooks* j which are adjustable thereon and adapted 1? engage with and hold the' 5 roast or fowl securely, allowing the carver great freedom of movement? t Philadelphia Record. H3GHEST ELECTRIC-LEFT. i 1 ) j Tlie highest electric-lift in the world [ ?the 520-foot iron tower from which . visitors to the Burgenstock gain a view over the Lake of the Four Cantons. ? Mrs. George Gould is to have pnb[ lishcd a book on her recent trip abroad. ABSENT-MINDED SAVANT ?] Amusing Stories Told of sn English Scientist. Sir John Burdon-Snnderson, Bnrt, " who diod at Oxford, in his 78th year, the other day, was one of the most celebrated medical scientists England has ever produced. 6 He was President of the British Association, the scientist's blue riband, in 1893. For nearly ten years he was Regius Professor of Medicine at Ox- ^ ford, a position he resigned last year p because he wanted time to "devote to' ? original research." Like many another scientist, say% 1 the London Express, his complete ab- j sorption in his w?:k is responsible for ? many stories of his absent-mindedness. ] On one occasion Lady Sanderson left t him one evening to conduct some 1 guests to the dining-room. When she 1 came down into the hall she found him * helping them into their great coats, ^ shaking hands and saying good-night. < Left one morning to boil his own j eggs for breakfast, with instructions \ to give it three-minutes, he was found ] staring intently at the egg in his hand, 1 while his wnteh was merrily boiling away in the saucepan. j On another occasion he went for a walk with a gentleman who was staying in his house. On arriving back ] home Sir John turned to his guest as ] they reached the gate, and, holding out i his hand, said: "It has been the great- ? est pleasure to me to meet you. I -wish 1 I could ask you to spend a few days ' with me, but the house is full, as we j have some people staying with us." The late Sir Henry Acland delighted ( to tell one story of Sir John's absent- ] mindedness. While a guest at his house 1 the famous scientist one day asked < Miss Acland if he. might have his lunch 1 earlier than usual, as he had an im- * portant call to make. The lunch was served and Sir John left the house. * j Ten minutes later he returned, rang . the bell, and asked the astonished ser- , vant to bring-up lunch. It was duly j served, and Afiss Acland had the satis- i faction' of seeing her guest make a ' second hearty meal. i ( Mrs. Aladdin and the L.ainp. Some months after Aladdin had mar- ! ried and settled down in lift, after set- < tling up with his creditors, his wife, who knew nothing about the wonder- ! ful lamp, was going through his pri- ' vate drawer in his absence when .she : came upon that remarkable luminary, and in examining it to see if it was a i "nol nntiflna onnl/1 ontnl 1*r rnhhprl it 1 Immediately the Genius of the Lamp 1 appeared. 1 "Great heavings!" cried Mrs. Alad- J din, in alarm. ' Thereupon the genius attempted to. . comfort her by assuring her that he ' J was only the Genius of the Lamp. i -"The tgeniue!" Mrs. Aladdin 1 cried, i "Why, I didn't know that this lamp I had genius. I should hare thought, to look at it, that it wasn't even talented." j But the genius reassured her, and expressed his willingness to do her \ bidding. , "Do you really mean." Mrs. Aladdin anxiously inquired, "that you will do whatever I wish?" "Indeed I will," replied the genius. "Let your heart's dearest wish, the tiling of all tilings that you most crave, be expressed, and it shall be yours." "Oh, then," Mr. Aladdin's fair consort unhesitatingly responded, "bring me at once, without a moment's delay, a new hat that will make that odious Mrs. Benjamin Hassan's new hat look as if it were selected from a bunch of twelve for a nickel." So the'genius got busy and did as " requested. _ And this is why Mrs. Aladdin attended church the very next Sunday.? San Francisco Call. The Kowtow. The kowtow (pronounced ker toe and meaning literally to bow the headj is used as a form of thanks, and is not a manner of greeting. The actors kowtow to their ma/jesties at the beginning and end of each performance at the theatre, first to thank for the honor they are to receive in being allowed to act before them, and at the end to thank for the'-'priviiege granted. The officials "bow the head" to tbauk for an audience or any favor or gift they have received or are to receive from their majesties. The kowtow is not only made by people at the palace and at imperial audiences; it is sometimes used by equals to each otlier as a psoper manner of thanking for some great favor. To make the kowtow, the person kneels three times, and each time bows his head, three times, touching the ground with it The kowtow could not be made by a foreigner without looking most awkward and appearing most servile, but the Chinese do it with dignity, ant] it is neither ungraceful nor degrading. It is a time-honored manner of giving thanks, a Chinese tradition surviving from a time when the courtiers were perhaps like slaves; but at present it does not imply any slave-like inferiority on the part of him who performs it.?Century. Girl of Medium Colorlnc. For 1he vast army of girls of medium coloring tbe following hints are given: If hair is dark and eyes blue, in choosing a gown seek to macch the eye9 and contrast Iho hair. One rule in selecting color is to match tbe hair by day and the eyes by night. If the mmpteccion is sallow, shades of red and brown are good. If the hair is ' 1 onrnrfhr n vrvi<] UJJICK. Jlim CVIiipiCAIVll cnux^, ? . black and all shades of mauve, green and violet; yellow, scarlet and pink, are to be worn. If fair, with no trace of color, the complexion can be lightened by the addition of rose or yellow, glowing purple, dark blue and dark Kreen. White and Nile green is an ideal mixture for the wear of fair young girh? with rose-leaf complexions'. A red bend mu.st beware of pink and c Beartet; given is her color and white i? her standby. There are also browns, ouks and copper tints that make red bair look beautiful. I j Keinembered the Text. f A little Topeka girl came home from ' church the other day and was asked r what the minister's text was. "I know ^ it all right," she asserted. "Well, repeat it." her questioner demanded. "Don't be afraid, and I will get you a bed quilt." was the astonishing answer. Investigation proved that the central | thought of the sermon had been "Fear < not, and I will send you a comforter." > ?Kansas City Journal. 1 THE SUNDAY SCHOOL Q MTERNATIONAL LESSON COMMENTS S FOR JANUARY 14. H object: The Wise Men Find Je?n??Matt. |H H., 1-12?Golden Text. Pro*, xxill., M- fl ?Memory Verse, 11?Topic: Man Seek-r iriK the Savior? Commentary. I. Tie coming of the wise men (vs. ' L, 2). 1. "When Jesus was bornl"*:. iVhile the cxact date of Christ's birth? aH s uncertain there is no reason why It nay not have been on December 26/ 3. C. 5. But why do we say that feaus was born "before Christ?' Sim)ly because our calendar is incorrect;' ?or some centuries after Christ's time1 here wa? no calendar in general use, B )ut each nation dated from some event n its Jiistory. Finally, in the sixth1 ;entury, a learned monk, DiOnyrfiO?' fl Exiguus, was. appointed to ascertain! he time of Christ's birth, and It was V >rdered that history should be datedl >lS !rom that time. But Dionyslus,' who irst publlflhed his calculations in A. D. ?jl?G, put toe Dirtn. 01 jesu? auuuw .'our years too Jate. "In Bethlehem.": 'House of bread." A name property; ipplied to a place where the truo jread was manifested for the life of/ ^ :he world. "Of Judea." To distil juish It from Bethlehem In Galilee, > Mentioned flu Joshua 19:15. "Hero*.""! Herod the Great. He was an Edomte, and, although a proselyte to the. fewlsh religion, was notorious for his wickedness and cruelty. "Wise men." Augustine and Chrysostom say tbertf { prere twelve magi, but the common be- v ief Is that there v/ere but . three. 'From the East." Perhaps from Me- ? t Ila, or-JPersla, or possibly, from Ara Jia. "To .Jerusalem." xney seemeu, a :o suppose that-when they reached tb<| \ J capital of the Jewish nation they t g would have no trouble in finding the 1 I )bject of their search. 2. "King of the Jews." This was a title uuknown to the earlier history of[srael aDd applied to no one except tho- ? Messiah.- It reappears In the insraip^ ' lion over the cross. "His star.'?. The $ ;tar which attracted thtfattentionof ther magi was provided for the occasion. ' 'To worship Him." To do HJm homage. Tjicy were hold to confess the )bject of their coming. ; ( - - . , . p II. Light from ttoe scriptures <vs. 3-6). 3. "Had heard." The magi ha*': :reated no small stir by their inqu)rie? which immediately attracted the attention of the king. "Troubled.".: 1 Herod, now sunt .into $e jealous de-1 ' ineptitude of his swage old age,-was' mj residing in his new palace on ZIbn, . ; . when, half maddened as he was al-' ready by the crimes of his past carfi?er,he was thrown Into a fresh par<>^ia?i ; of alarm and anxiety Tfy the visit of: . these magi, bearing the strange intelttgence thai Shey had come to worship- ., a new-born king.- Herod feared n.ri~< _ "ah Tomttfliiom "witii him." Fear-' Ing that lie would make this an oeca- HH Bion of renewing tola acts of blood-:1 Bhed. 4. "Had gathered." He as-f V sembled . tbe Sanjiedrin. "Chief priests." " ThisT expressionprobably} comprehends the acting high priest , % and his: deputy ? those who had been'- . bigh priests. ' "Scribes." ' The learned, interpreters of the Mosaic law, and:, the colleirtors of the traditions of the elders. Many of them were Pharisees,,' ? "Demanded of them." Because they, would be most likely to know. "Where * the Christ should be born" (R. V.) The1 ' wise men had said nothing ab.ont the.,' Christ, or the Messiah, but only ab'ont . the King of the .Tews. But Herod saw, that this king must be the expected .* ' Messiah. ' * . yjf ; V , < 5. "By the prophet." Micah 5.2. 6. "Art ih no wise least" (R. V.) AI- . though Bethlehem was little, y??t it was ^ exalted above ail the other cities of Israel. "The princes." VThe thou-' sands" (Micah 5:2). The tribe had f* been subdivided into thousands, and - ( ,s' over each subdivision there, was aj . chieftain or. prince. r "A ..Governor." To control and rale. "Which shall be shepherd1' (R. V.) To feed and care ?? - ? ohnn>io?fl )>l? flnnt This fOv.* 4 1U1 , LLO U OUC.J^UgiU , a emor who controls'Is'also a tender / shepherd. Christ Is both Shepherd! and King. "My people Israel." Israel was God's people in a peculiar sense. III. The intrigue of Herod (vs. 7, 8)., 4k 7. "Privily called." Herod desired tp. keep the time of Christ's birth as se^ cret as possible lest the Jews who hated him should take occasion to rebel. "Inquired of them diligently.'*" "Learned of them carefully." R. ."W I He inquired of them the exact time ^ and received- positive information as ^ to the time the star appeared. Assam- . ing that the star appeared when ,the ? child was born he would thus have JB some idea of tne age of the child. 8. "He sent them." He assumed control, j but they followed the directions of the-" J Lord. "Search diligently/' Herod was * ^ honest in making this charge to them; - M he greatly desired to receive definite^ M word concerning tbe new King. "And worship Him also." What hypocrisyr He only wished to find the child in or- ^ miiv/ior Wlm Iva 13. 16). ua iv iuuiwv? Mff. |.ir. ?. ? IV. Guided by the star (ys. 9, 10). 9. "The star?went before them." The ' same star which'they had .seen in their own country now again appears. J "Stood over." The star pointed out j the very, oouse. .10. "They rejoiced." A The Greek is very emphatic. They re- M joiced exceedingly. V. The child Jesus found (vs. 11, 12). 11. "Fell down." They pros- ? trated themselves before Him accord-* JflH Ing to the Eastern custom. "Gifts." The people ol' the East did not ap- AH proa eh into 1hc presence of kings with- SB out bringing them presents. "Gold,"* etc. Gold would always be useful. while frankincense and myrrh were prized for their fragrance. 12. "Warned of God in n dream." God communicated His purpose to them in a manner that they understood. "Another way." They could easily go East from Bethlehem and thus leave Jerusalem on the.^^^^f A slate fjnarryman living at Delt^^^^^H Pa.. Humphrey O. Pritchard, has i clock out of slate. The varieties ised. .says the Jewelers' Circu^^^^^H tVeekly. include peach bottom bl^H^^^B ;late and the red, green and puri^^^^^^f >late of Vermont. About 164 separr^j^^^^^f )iecei? of this material were used he construction and are held together^H^BI iy twenty-three dozen small metal lerews. Many of the slate sheets are is thin as paper. . ?-?: * An Old War Keltc. M An interesting relic of the war of 812 was recently nauie<i trom me lepthsof Ourtis Bay in a fish seine by ?. R. gtuir, of Baltimore, Md. The elic is a nliell which is supposed to iav? been dropped overboard from ODe if the British warships -which assailed Jaltimcrc. Vroponed French Exposition. The French Government has proposed to the Chamber of Deputies 10 ?reate a universal exposition in Paris n 1920, to commemorate the foundaion of the French' Republic.