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- - i JX. poin O V\ fl jz> v> I \ o i v. ? ANNIE i ? EDWARDS. CHAPTER XIX. 20 Continued. "And you were quite right in all you thought of the Fergussons," said Gif ford's first letter to Jane. "You were i ?juite right?there- is nothing like poverty to be seen aniong^them, except the food, which is so bad I shall dine in future at the hotel. Mrs. Fergusson is not at all improved from what she used to be, and the other girl is very vulgar in her manners, and I think bolder looking even than Matty. They are very rapacious as to settlements, and have got a cousin here?Hartley Fergusson. a solicitor?I remember the blaekguard wei < iat tsauen?10 duck them in everything. My dear Jane, I - have made a great fool of myself, but 'tis too late to go back now. They dragged me yesterday to a beastly out-of-door thing given by Mrs. Fergusson's greatest patron, Lady Churchill, a monstrous fast, bad style of woman to my mind, and I had the pleasure of seeing my future wife play 'Aunt Sally,' at which game she got very warm and excited. I thought of ' you, and of your little hands and your gentle face, and I can assure you I felt sick as I looked forward to the future. However, I'm in for it, with no hope of getting free. Lady Churchill is going abroad in May, and Mrs. Fergusson suggests, if the settlements can be finished, that the wedding shall take place before that time, in order that her dear friend may be present at the ceremony." Gifford to be married in May! And "this day when Jane read his letter was - the last day of March. In another month Giflford Mohan was to be marTied! And as she read she was looking younger than she had looked for years, ' and hope?hope so loner dead?was stirring in her breast with the warm beat of life, and her heart was fluttering at every footstep that passed along the lane, at every figure that shadowed the gateway in the indistinct gloaming of , fho srflv snrins" twilieht. ' It would,be a great deal too much; it would, iqdeed, be'against all established canons, to say that Jane firand lad already forgotten Mohuu and was i feeling true and honest hopes regarding another man: one, too, who, as far as she knew, had no intention whatsoever of asking Iier to be his wife. So. without scrutiny too deep. I will record 1 the fact that she did feel young, and not without interest in life, on this evening when the vicar had promised to call and see her, and at the same time remind any very exacting reader 1 that it was: now many months since -41 ? 1 ?rhl?nAn s\f horncv XII t* illbl IIIMUIDII.I u> uv^vk,,. vith respect to Gifford had first crept into poor Jane's unsuspecting heart. "Seven, and he was to be here at six! He must have got letters by the same 1 post that brought me Gifford's. and have stayed to answer them. Probably lie won't come at all to-night. Well, it matters little?nothing can matter much to me now. Only I should just like to have told him what I mean to do before takintr any decisive step about it?I should just liked to have watched his face as I told him, and lave seen whether he really cares a bit about my staying at Chesterford or not!" And then, oddly anougb, seeing that 1 nothing mattered much to her now. ' large tears began to float in Jane's ' ?yes?tears of which Gifford Mohun's approaching marriage was not, remotely Or approximately, the cause. "Dreaming, as usual, Jane? Dreaming as you have done all your life! I wonder whether a time will ever come 1 when you will cease to live in the clouds? Depend upon it, the common v prtsaic'earth is a much safer ground to rest upon, if you would only, once and ?11 vntipcolf +n.thinlr it SO." XVA an, UI III^ jviuuvtfc ?V' Jane started from her seat; then shrank back, with a strange sensation of consciousness, 'as she found the vicar close beside her in that fast-dark- ' - eniug little room. "I never heard you come in, Mr. Follett. How?how dreadfully stupid of Grace not to tell me you were! I will Ting for the lamp at once. I thought you did not mean to come to-night." And nfter this very lucid and co- 1 herent speech Miss Grand neither called Grace to be reprimanded, nor rang for the lamp, nor even gave her hand to the vicar, but turned her face back toward the window, and wished she was a hundred miles away?with Gifford, with Matty?anywhere rather than with Mr. Follett at this hour and in this place to which she herself had bid him come! "Grace did not see me, for the good reason that I came in. without ringing, by the side gate." said the vicar's quiet voice. "A great liberty, Jane, was it not? But I have a fancy that you and I are going to return to our old life now, ann runt .you win uui uu uugi.v with mo for coming in and going out of your house again, ns I used to do in the days when you were a little child." Then she turned her face round to his, and a great pain contracted her heart. "To the old days," she stammered. "Oh, sir, can that ever be? Can the past ever come back to any of us as it was?" "I think it can to you. Jnne. I think, when, jour present trouble is over, you will be able to go back to a life more like your childish one than you have known for years. I think so because 1 .gee you walking abroad daily, because life and health arc on your face. Signs, Jane, if you would only think so, that your present sickness is r.ot uuto death." The vicar seated himself in the bend of the bay-window, which had been his fnvirite place for years. Jane felt, with jt conscious shame that made her <?heeks burn !'otly, that her lately cherished dreams had been built upon founi' .. . . . . .... \ 0R" ' \ FOR HER k FATHER'S ' X SIN. fe fF I ?ONOR;\i dations as unreal as all lier old ones. The vicar looked upon her jvith just the same feeling as he had done when she was twelve years old: had come here now to give her kindly support under , the blow of Gifford's last and worst desertion?only that! "I had a letter by to-nigbt's post, sir,'.' she remarked, going, after the manner of her sex, to the subject farthest from her heart. "A letter from Cheltenham. Gifford tells me Mrs. Fergusson says their marriage is to take place before another month is over." "Mrs. Fergusson shows her discretion, if she desires to secure Mr. Mohun for her son-in-law," remarked the vicar, dryly. "And Gifford doesn't seem overmuch pleased with any of his future connections. He says Mrs. Fergusson is very like what 6he used to be in the days when he disliked her so in Baden; and he has been to a morning fete with them, and seen Matty and her sister play at some game that is called?but I scarce think that Gifford can have written it right?'Aunt Sally.' Can you believe it possible, Mr. Follett, that any young gentlewoman could join in a game with such a name as that?" "I can qukte believe that the young woman who has been staging with'you could join in anything, Jane. She had bold eyes, and a strong, determined, firm-set mouth. She won't make such a bad wife for Mohun, after all." "Oh, Mr. Follett!" "Jane, we will speak candidly for once, and then, as it is a subject on which you and I are not likely to agree, we will let Mr. Mohun's name drop between us fortver. I know him far better than you know him. Yes, Miss Grand, though you do look at me so incredulously; and I say a strong and not very refined nature is the one to control Mohun's. You would never have controlled him, Jane. He might have drawn you to his level, but you would not have raised him to yours. Patience, long-suffering, idolatry, are not the qualities to be desifed for the wife of a man like Mohun. Miss Fergusson, with the strength and selfishness and savoir vivre that I saw written upon her face, is far more likely to suit him than you, Jane, with all your love, and all your gentleness, could ever have done." It was exactly the opinion to which Miss Grand herself had already slowly arrived; but Mr. Follett was the last human being on earth to whom she could, voluntarily, have confessed her change of creed. Her head drooped lower and lower; her heart beat till she was afraid he might hear its beatings; and her fingers began nervously to pluck the leaves from a little plant Df sweet-scented verbena that stood upon the window sill. ../'Don't in your indignation destroy your verbena, Jane; or rather, as you bare already broken it to pieces, let me profit by your spoils." He took one of the little broken branches from her fingers, and for a moment?for a single moment only? bis hand rested upon hers. "Jane, as you sit there, with your bowed down face in the twilight, I seem to see you again as you were a ilozen years ago. before my knowledge 3f life or any love of Mobun's had come to trouble you. Oh! child, it would be well for both of us?yes, Jane, well for me, and for you, if we could return to those times." His voice faltered?a very unusual tiling lor Air. i< oneu?aim juue b ucun plucked up courage. "We can't go back to them, sir. No, no, we can't?we are changed; I mean I myself have changed, as much as the circumstances of my life. I can't go back to what I was when I was a girl, and"?very quickly and decidedly this ?"I have asked you to come here tonight because I wish to tell you of a plan that lies upon ny mind. I mean to leave Chesterford, Mr. Follett; I can iive here no longer." "Jane, this is folly!?this is the mere first outbreak of your disappointment in Mohun." "It has nothing to do with him," she cried, almost bitterly. "It is of myself, and of my own happiness alone, that I am thinking now. Very long ago. in the time I was engaged to marry him, Gilford used to say he would like to have this cottage, and pull it down, and make the garden a part of Yatton, TT? ** r?/\w T* din 11 nnf ha At' suaii iiat? iu nun. n ?uuu uvi v#v. an eyesore t? him any longer. And 1 shall be glad to leave it. and all ray remembrance of it! I like to tell you this, because I would cot have you think I acted without consulting you. But my determination is fixed. Nothing shall make me live any longer in Chesterford!" The vicar was silent; but even in that dim light Jane could see that his face turned fearfully white, and her own heart throbbed faster. "You say nothing, Mr. Follett. Do you think my decision a wise one?*' "Jane"?but she started at the agitation of his voice?"will you let me tell you what I think?" "If you please." "I told you once before, yon know, but you could not hear me then?no, Jane, you need not deny if. for indeed you uncw Knew wuat wmus were 1 spoke. But oner, the morning that I told you Clifford was coming back, I spoke to you of the possibility of your loving any other man than him. You know the answer that you gave me?" *'I never understood you. sir! I never thought that you could mean " "That I at my age, would presume to ask you to be my wife? Wei), Jane, it was even so, and you refused me; unconsciously, but perhaps none the less cruelly to uip for that. Now you know why I haven't come near you much o? late. Ycu know, and you forgive me, of Jane, will you?" er "I forgive? Ob, Mr. Follett?oh, sir! ' can you indeed care anything about me a 1 still ?" de "I care for you as I have done for co the last dozen years. I love you so tii much that I ask you for the second ey time, to be ray -wife! And now, Jane, fa if you are going to refuse me again, do th it quickly!" He caught her hand?her mi cold, trembling hand?and held it firm- sp ly, but -with never the ghost of a pres- m; sure in his. "I am strong, child. Don't ar fear to pain me. I can bear all that fu you have got to say." "I don't think I am worthy of you, sir. Remember whose daughter I am? remember I am growing old and faded and worn! Mr. Follett, you should D; look for some one of better birth?some cli one fuller of life and freshness than nc poor Jane Grand." li< "I remember whose daughter you are, iij Jane;" and so steady was the vicar's pv voice that 6he knew he was not speak- fe ing out of the passion of the moment, is but rather delivering an old and well- a considered opinion. "I remember whose w a l-i? ??ViU/l T hsivo TP- iri UHUKIlier J'UU Uirj vuiiu< ? ....... - membered it ever since the time you of were six years old. But I know, too, or that every human being's life dies with bi him?your father's, Jane, or mine! I te don't believe in any moral attainder, Jv any transmission of guilt. A man's th honor lies in his own hands; a man's bi dishonor can rise from his own deeds tt alone, not from any heritage that ep comes to him from another. For the lii rest, I know quite well what Jane v Grand is?how worn, how faded, how m old. Does Jane Grand love me??that co is the only question whose answer it as concerns me to hear." P; "She does, sir. She lores you with D; her whole heart! She knows now that aj she has loved you long!" Pj Very unlike a heroine (that class of of Imman creatures never giving any re- nr ply to the most momentous question of tit life except by a monosyllabic, too low for any save the delicate ear of love to catch). But poor Jane was .not a , i heroine; only a supremely tender, and, Vc at length, a supremely happy woman; 0f ana Mr. JP Oiien sseriAicu. ?u chui^v w.. ,m tent, both -with the substance and man- cc ner of her reply, that I don't think any th outside spectator of the scene can have m a right to caVil at it. dt "And you were not dreaming of Gif- ti( ford when I came in? And you were ar not dreamiE^r of him. or mourning, to the last, over his approaching mar- w riage? Tell me true, Jane. I would fa like to hear every syllabic of the bj truth." th "I was thinking of you, and of you "j alone, Mr. Follett. I was -wondering how you would take it when you heard pj I meant to go away from Chesterford." ar "And you will stop in Chesterford YC now?" n{ "I believe so?but I will let Mr. M*>- jn 1 * .n IIU11 IJUVt; lut'iuiuibt. IXI Two hours later, when the vicar was so preparing to leave, she untied the black jn ribbon from her neck and took from it u: her wedding ring. kr "I can send it back to biro, you know, Mr. Follett," she remarked, nfter going fa through all the story of that ill-omened ve gift of Mohun's. "Some way it seems va to me like a remembrance left from my own youth, not from him, and I feel it would be hard to put it away now. But I will do as you wish," 6he added ^ quickly: "and if you will tell me, I tjc will send it off to Cheltenham by to- pj, morrow's post."' ' fa "Send to Mr. Mohun's hands the ring co that you have worn and made your aE companion for seven years! Nay. Jane, Wj keep it, and look at it as often as you j will?so long as you wear my ring upon so your handvand-my love in your heart H se The past is dead, child. I am not jy afraid that Mohun's first gift shall Uj; bring it back too vividly from its be grave again." ha This was all the vicar answered. g0 Ai wi CHAPTER XX. Mr. Hartlfy Fergusson pushed for- vii ward the settlements with vigcr, and Mrs. Fergusson gained her point. Lady as Chqrchill was present at the marriage. and gave the bride a very elegant, although not ccstly, vinaigrette on that es !? co auspicious ocviisjuii. And the bride needed neither vinia- ke grettes not any ether conventional ro, bridal supports wherewith to sustain her nerves, but comported hfrself to ( the last with the same spirit of admira- . ' ble coolness in which she had carried 'n' on the business from that first moment when she entered Jane Grand's sitting 71 room in the twilight. And after the e ceremony she took Gifford off at once ar to the Continent, and let him know?yes, us on that first day of their happiness? ^ that her v.*ord was to be law. and that the less he obtruded of his very unin- . teresting opinions upon subjects in gen- nl1 eral. the greater would be bis probable su share of domestic peace. no Mohun did not submit without a "" struggle to bis new lot: and to this moment has a dim idea that bis wife ?1' does not rule him?an idea in wbieb Matty berself, and Matty's friends, and IJU Mobun's friends, too, do not all partici- s0 pate. H? takes refuge more and more 'n' in bis dinner and bis wine, and sueb material consolations of life; and wben, ^ at rare intervals, tbey come to Yatton, and Matty is engaged witb ber guests, na ber billiards, ber croquet, bfr dances, *? Mr. Mohun is wont to steal away of * an evening to Chesterford Vicarage, and think, in his hazy fashion, how hardly used he has been by fate, while 1 he marks the quiet happiness?the P?' honor, the love, the self-respect?which es the master of that little country house ^ possesses. dii And Jane feels no mofe emotion in H. meeting Gifford Mohun than she would ?' feel in looking at her old wedding ring s0 (which she never remembers to do), or at any other token of her wasted youth! ca Iler life is not wasted now. She is te emphatically the vicar's helpmeet; his rc faithful assistant in the duties that w pressed so hard upon him formerly; P? bis best and tenderest interpreter to all c'( the poor of his flock. They respect ro bim, as they always did; but the Guer s* sympathies that were wanted to knit of him to them closely are no longer ab- ai ' ?.- :rn. MV .11 sent now. ?ue.v iuve ms whu, ?mu *>*.. Bradley does not minister exclusively a to V.iem in their hour of greatest need. And the happiness of Mrs. Follett's cv own inner life is complete. Her peculiar organization would not admit of perfect contentment unless she pos- Ir sessed some immediate objects for self- of immolation and worship; and these are ar fortunately given her, in the persons ai two very handsome and already tol- T nbly dominant sons. 'A man's honor lies in his own hands; man's dishonor can rise from his own si eds alone, not from any heritage that mes to him from another." If, at nes, unbidden tears start to Jane's es as she looks upon her boys' fair T ces and thinks what inheritance it is at she has brought to them, ?he reembers the moment when the vicar oke those words, and feels that she j, ny look forward without trembling, id without shame, to his children's r iture years! v (THE END.) h tl Two Capable Women. 11 About forty years ago William n. ay, a pioneer from Tennessee, pur- s lased from the State of Texas 87,000 n res of laud in Coleman County at C ty cents an acre. He exhausted all Si s capital in milking the first payment, ^ itting up his ranch headquarters and ncing his land, and wb.n he died in ^ :si ho loft his Avidow tnd daughter ? legacy of debts and complications T hich have caused them almost insur- p ountable embarrassments and years distress. But tbe widow, with extra- c dinary courage, determination and 13 isiness ability, has been able to pro- jj ct their interests, and on the 1st of 0 ily she was able and ready to unload i e burden she has been carrying and tl eathe freely for the first time in I irty years. In 1890 she married Jos- o lb C. Lea, a Colorado ranchman. He ^ red but two years, and was of but a iry little assistance in tbe manage- " ent of her business affairs. She has ^ nducted them all herself, with the g distance of her daughter, Mrs. a ldgitt, recently married and living in s alias, who inherits her mother's cour- s ;e and business capacity. Mrs. r ldgitt was educated at tbe University ^ Chicago. Both she and her mother e well known in Taxos.?TV. E. Curj, in Chicago Record-Herald.- p b How Inventions Are Made* C The creat majority of practical in-"* a intions are made by a group of men a whom the public never hears. These ? en are members of one of the most j, implicated and highly organized of d e modern professions. Every great r anufacturing concern maintains, nn- ? ir one name 01* another, an "inven- fi )ns department," employing men who h e paid various salaries simply to a ivelop inventions. They are supplied 6 ith every mechanical appliance to ^ cilitate their work; the bills are paid c r the company, and every invention T ey make is assigned to the company 0 n consideration of salary and one J illar." The General Electric Com- 1 iny, at Schenectady, N. Y., for ex- a nple, employs about 800 men who de- ? >te. much of their time to developing ? sw ideas. It spends $2,500,-000 a year, a this development work. The West- 's gnouse companies ao me same iumg, does every progressive manufacturg concern of any consequence in the ited States. And it is these unlown men, grappling -witli the everyy, practical problems of great manuctories, "who make most of the inntion9 of immediate commercial ilue.?World's Work. llrlnflDC ? Stick to Life. To the people of the temperate zone e rapid growth of tropical vegeta>n seems almost incredible. In many rts of the tropics the climate is so vorable and the soil 'so fertile and nducive to rapid growth that almost iy stick placed upright in the earth ill spring to life. [n some portions of Central America, ys the Chicago Chronicle, one may e mile after mile of fences apparent-*' composed of growing trees which, ion examination, prove to have once en barbed wire fences, the posts ving branched out and grown into od-sized trees. Many a Central merican telegraph pole will be seen ith a crown of leaves at the top, liich have sprouted since the last sit of the linemen. j. In the tropical countries they have j frnnhlo Iroon tlio trPPQ fmm v owing as in northern latitude to 1 ake them grow, and one of the great- * t difficulties encountered in that c untry in railroad work has been to ep th'e ties from sprouting.?The Citgraph. _ c c Satsuma Pottery Decoration. ' Satsuma, adored of all pottery-lov- . i g women, has been manufactured r r many hundreds of years in Japan, old feudal days the Japanese princes * lighted in private potteries, in which t craftsmen made all the pottery ed in their lord's establishment. The ^ are made on the estate of the Prince t Satsuma acquired a world-wide c me. During the internal wars of the r neteenlh century, however, which relted in the new Japan, the secret of ' o ware would have been lost had it ? t been preserved by a potter. Mr. jj eizan, of Osalsa, is said to be the d eatest living decorator of Satsuma. a a employs fifteen artists, all his own a ipils. The extreme minuteness of o me of Meizan's decorations is almost t credible. On the interior of a bowl c teen inches in circumfercnce and ree in depth, he nas painted 10,000 1 itterdies, indistingnishable to the ^ ked eye, but through the glass seen ^ be perfect in form and coloring.?, . d liladelphia Press. h d An Arabian Druid in Pari*. Strange mystics are discovered in iris every uow ana again, me init is described as an Arabian Druid ft bo inhabited the Rue <Ie la Micho- <? ere, a 6treet in the centre of the city. * is neighbors -were startled at mid- ? ght to hear weird and discordant ^ u'nds issuing from the dwelling of c i Bonem, followed by ritualistic in- ? ntations and liturgical chantings. al- p rnatively plaintive and fierce. The h flection of flames was also observed, c hen the door was burst open by the r ilice a man of huge statute was seen, 3thed in a ions- white sheet, his eyes *' J ~ ^ ! lm nrl r? K1 nnil lllllg wiiuj^", aim in mo u?uu <i uiuunained knife. Around liim a number ^ wax candles shed a mystic light. s id on a piano, which had served as i altar, lay a disembowled lamb. As '' measure of precaution Ali Bonem. j e high priest, has been taken 41110 istody.?Globe of London. t ? t< The world's peat centre is not in u eland?despite its 3000 square miles bog?but in the north of Germany b id the adjacent parts of Denmark o id Holland. 11 - EE GEEAT DESTEOYER DME STARTLINC FACTS ABOUT THE VICE OF INTEMPERANCE. tiree Saloonkeeper*) of Clilnco Assessed by a Jary 817,500 Damages For Debandilni; John Hedlnnd, a Skilled Carpenter?Despoiled Homes* If three saloonkeepers of Chicago ave to pay $5000 damages apiece to tie family of a man whom they have uined and debauched, how much rould the 240,000 saloons of America ave to pay ou the same basis for all be homes they have wrecked and are ow wrecking, provided simple justice l the premises were required at theii ands at the present time? That is the tartling question suggested by a relarkable decision in Judge Tuthill's !ourt, in which a jury assessed three aloonkeepers $17,500 damages (under lie Civil Damage act) for debauching ohii Hedlnnd, a skilled carpenter, nd despite the repeated protests and earnings of his wife and friends, peristing in selling him liquor after his /ill power was gone and his body a rey tQ alcoholic poison. Five years ago Hedlund was a sueessful workman, ea'rrilug $4 a day at is trade. To-day he is a drunkard, aade so by law. and his wife and five ittle children, the youngest two years Id, are in desperate circumstances, 'he testimony developed the fact that be defendant saloonkeepers had put ledlund under considerable financial bligation, and had exhausted their riles to bind him fast as a patron even fter he liad become a confirmed runkard. I think it was Bob Burdette who once eclared that if the liquor trafflc's arroant demand for "compensation" was ccepted by the State and it were posible to estimate the exact indemnity, il hould pay for the millions it had obbed the people of the thousands ot nmoc im/1. xuronVwl arid the crime il lad produced, it would bankrupt the lusiness in a day and require every ent of wages its entire force of employers and employes could earn in lonest occupation for 100Q, yejys to ome. But taking this Chicago,decision s a coriser>:&tive-basis'of ;re^konjngnd who would declare this verdict oo high a price for such, legalized ome-wrecking?what would it cost the iquor traffic if every fireside similarly lespoiled throughout the land should ise up and secure at least the same inancial "compensation" for the trafie's diabolical destruction of home and Dve and competence and character and 11 the sacred, moral and material posessions of American home-life? It would he very conservative, and ?!iu:_ fanta +n HI' Willi 1II IUB UUUVUULCU 1UI.W, to redit an average of at least one vrecked home to the record of infamy tf every saloon doing business in Lmeriea daring the past five years. ?hat means 240,000 despoiled homes, nd, at the rate of $5000 damages from ach saloonkeeper (really from the irewer or distiller behind it), it would all for an -indemnity of 51,200.000,000 one billion, two hundred-million?), a um nearly three times as great as the otal capital now invested in the enire liquor business. (See United States Jensus Reports for 1900.) This $1,200,000,000 of course cannot lossibly compensate for the manhood lamned for eternity, the environment if misery and vice everywhere bred ly the saloon, or the politicar dry rot ind public corruption it has fed and ostered in both State and nation since he formation of the Republic. But it erves as a gentle hint to the liquoi raffic that "gquare deal" on the com>ensation principle would not mean a Jovernment pension of some half a million or so to the oppressed "trade," tut on tne otner nana woma reaii.v tut the whole business in the hands of receiver in the twinkling of an eye. Suppose ten thousand American vives of drink victims should conclude hat the time for hopeless' resignation' o circumstances had passed, and hould.at once sue for like damages.in he next twelve months? The Amercan people would then have to face he real issue of the hour. Is it pa riotic or manly or common sense to onger ignore the ravages of this giganic legalized curse in our midst and lot rise as one roan and blot it out orever? It may not come that way, >ut the hour is close at hand when hat question will be burned into the leart of the American people and will irovoke their irresistible vengeance ipon a business whose vested interests lave defied the laws of God and man Or more than half a century.?Assoiated Prohibition Press. Says Drink I>Cenac?? Women. The Rev. Madison -C. Peters has disovered that there is inebriety among society women," and he talked about t at the Peopled Meeting in the Epi>hany Baptist Church. "The fashion that encourages women nebriates among the society women,of T?? xr ?n :,1 T"v?. Da^amci "nwaoAntfl lew ioik, saiu ui. incio, iimcutn . deplorable outlook for the future of he Republic. The fashionables of this ity are establishing a custom which is leing followed by' millions of Amerian women, to the detriment of tho ace. "Closely observe the goings on in the ashionable drinking places of onr city, nd nine out of ten women drink Jiabtually, their tipples identical wit* hose of men and the calls as frequent. Irinking with men and women and lone, at luncheon, at dinner, at supper nd between times, young women and Id. to say nothing of the drinking in heir own homes, where nobody ex? ept their maids see them. "Fashionable physicians know that I e!I the truth. Alcoholism among wornn is alarmingly on the increase. I apeal to every woman who lores her ;ind to discourage the custom of social Irinking and help'to save the womaniood of the Nation from the curse ol runkeuness."?New York Times. Preferred tFater For Walklnjj. Dr. Torrcy, the .resent evangelist, is man of ready writ, which he uses with ft'ect when interrupted while speaking.. )n one occasion in London a bibulous ellow arose and announced waveringy that he did not believe anything in he Bible. "I don't see how anybody an * walk on water." he declared. Can yon do it, Dr. Torrey?" Tho """"'" I' frt-imlv sif tho man for moment and then answered: "Well, I an walk on water better than I can on uin." Temperance Nole?. Philadelphia receives $1,742,17" from is saloons and pays $3,O.K5.2G4 for t npport of its police force. Because the policy of liccnsinj: tlie quor traffic fosters hypocrisy. 111? Boston IIei;fld advocates its overbrow. In Maine it is held by the local aiiliorities that malt extract is an intoxicating licpior which cannot he sold nder the law of that State. The Danish Government strictly forids the sale of whisk?- to the Eskimo f Greenland, and, travelers say, the iw is rigidly enforced. Tfj^UGHTS QUiE-TjSSClRAFTER THE VISION. "T have seen thr vision of fhee, 0 Christ! INow what wilt Thou have me to do? For the hardest work in all the world I offer Thee service true." | "Go back. My child, to thy little care?; Thou hast known them very long. Bear for Me yet a little while Thy feeling of bitter wrong." "Lord Christ, I am ready for martyrdom, For banishment, death or pain." "Patiently still thine heartache hide, Sing at thy task again!" "I am strong and eager and loving, Lord; I have courage rare to endure!" "Are thine eyes averse to slander, child? Is thine heart devout and pure? "Glad art thou in thy neighbor's joy? Sufferest thou his need? Ah! Then I know that thou has seen The vision of Me indeed." ?Maude Louise Rav, in Congregationalisfc and Christian" World. The Shattered Violin. A distinguished musician ordered a manufacturer or violins to maKe tor him the best instrument possible. He told him to use tlie best material, take nil the time wished, and use all his skill in its construction. At last the manufacturer sent for the musician to come and try the violin. As the musician drew the bow across the instrument, his face became clouded. Lifting the instrument, he smashed it to pieces on the counter, handed the price to the manufacturer and left the shop. The manufacturer was not satisfied with mere pay. bis reputation was at stake. He gathered the fragments of the violin and put them together. After he had remade tue violin out of the pieces, he again sent for the musician. This time the frown was not seen; as he drew the bow across the strings he told the manufacturer that * - J a/1 In mnblnrp lit? lliiu suttccuru ill. IIIJI ill just the kind of instrument that he desired. "What is the price?" inquired the musician. "Nothing at all," replied the manufacturer; "it is the same instrument that you smashed to pieces some ;ime ago; I pnt it together and out of the fragmentb this perfect music lias been made." Let U9 believe the parable. God can take the fragments of a shattered life, and by His grace put them together so that under the tdwch of His Holy Spirit there will go forth music good enough for earth and heaven. Every loss He can gain. Whatever may be our experience of the Gospel, and are "willing that God shall use us toward it, let us believe that the promise, "All things work together for good to dhprn that love God" will be realized In our lives.?Dr. A. C. Dixon. Chrlut Is the Cine. Dr. W. G. Moorhead, of Xenia Theological S^piinary, was once, returning home^fipm. one of.Jiis journeys, and wanted to take wiih'.him a present for his children. He selected a dissected map. When he gave it to his two girls he said: "Now, if you can put this together, you will know more of geography than if you studied a book." They worked patiently, but at last one of them arose, saying: "I cannot put it together." It was an awful jumble. They had part of North America in South America, and other mistakes quite as glaring. Suddenly the older girl discovered that on the other side of one piece of the map was a man's hand. Curiosity prompted her to turn over another piece, and there was part of his face. Then her^ fingers worked rapidly, she turned over every piece of the map, and called to her sister, saying: "Come back! There's a man on the other side! Let's put the man together first." i Soon the figure of the man was completed, and when the pieces were turned over, every river and lake, every mountain and plain, was in its proper place in the map. This is the true secret of Bible study. Find the Man! Kecognize His portrait! Study with Him as the clue, and every tMI #nii ?r*4/\ ifo nrnnor nlflpp!? 11I1IIK Will 1U11 1UIV/ US Ram's Horn. The Personal Toocli. "I always like to trade with her," said one, speaking of a business woman whose name a friend had mentioned, "because she always treats my modest purchases as if they were as well worth her attention as those of people with far heavier purses. Of course the simple hats I could order were a very small item compared with the expensive ones of her wealthy customers, but she always seemed as intent on 'finding exactly what I wanted and as interested in helping me select and . combine materials t0- the best posible advantage, as if I were spending ten times the amount at my command.; I have always thought that the woman who could give the same consideration and tasteful care, the same personal touch, to the sale of a five-dollar hat that she would bestow upon a fiftydollar one, was a business genius." She was something more. The ability to give one's self heartily to the work in hand, whatever it may be?to do it as if it were the one thing only to be done, demanding the best one has to give?is to make a success of business, indeed; but, carried into all lines, it makes a success of life as well. The personal touch of interest is not commercial talent; it is the gift to be acquired by all who would really do God's work in the world iu any sphere, 1 T>0w,>0 Unrn i ?iiatu o xxui !* Holy Thinking. There can oe no high and holy llvjng without high and holy thiuking.? Rev. James McLeod. Step by Step. We should inquire, "Lord, what wilt Thou have ine to do?" and then, when told, should go and do it. He will give us something we can do at once, and then will show us what to do later, and as long as we live He will still I have something for us to do. ? Rej formed Church Record. The spirit of consecration doubles the value of any recreation. To be going God's way is to get the | good of the laud. Mm Lived in Three Centuries. Aunt Lorica Cox celebrated her lOGth birthday at lier home with her 2alighter, Mrs. Louisa Ann Shaw, in West Harrington, Me. It is said that she is the only woman in New England who has lived in three centuries. Mrs. Cox has vivid recollections of all the wars the United States has engaged in since its independence as a nation was acknowledged by England, for she has lived through them all. Her .husband, James Cox, died in the Civil War, he having enlisted in Company D, Twenty-second Maine Volunteers. . ? 4_.THE SUNDAY SCHOOL ' ^Jl INTERNATIONAL LESSO>J COMMENTS FOR MARCH %l I. * ' ;" 'v Subject: The Tongue and the Temper, Matt, v., 33-48? Golden Text, Ps?. c*ll? 3?Memory Verses. 44, 45?Topic* A Study of the New Lite. >dW" L Christ's teaching on oaths (vs. 3^ 37). The Saviour has been showing and now continues to show "the relations in which His gospel stands to the previous dispensation, as being the fulfilment and confirmation of true Judaism and the reformation of degenerate Judaism." 33. "Hath been said." By, the Jew9 when they received the taw,, and in their interpretations of It. "Forswear." To swear falsely; to perjure. * "But shalt perform." We know from* Matt. 23:16-22 that the scribes and Pharisees declared oaths to be binding or not binding, according tt? the supposed sanctity of the object sworn by. "Unto the Lord." The teaching waa that only such oaths as were made .' i "unto the Lord" or in the name of the Lord were sacred aud needed to bo kept. "Oaths." An oath is a solemn \ affirmation or^eclaratioto. 34. "Bat I say." The emphasis here is ou?the "I." * "Swear not at all." Trofane and com^ mon swearing, with aH light, irreverent oaths, such as are not required by, the civil magistrate, are intended in our Lord's prohibition. "Neither by, heaven." None of the oaths which our Lord adduces as specimens are judicial oaths. "God's throne." "Swearing by heaven either has no meaning or derives its meaning from the fact that heaven is the residence, the court, the throne of God." 9* "Tho onrfh " HYV SPA Isa 68:1: Psa." 48:2."" 9 30. "By thy head." A common form of oath in the ancient world. 37. "Yea | ?nay." Let your statements be In I cordance with facte; let your languagofeJ be simple, and let your answers be T?s * or No. "Cometh of evil." All swear- V in?, genteel or otherwise, "comes of evil." ^ II. On the law of rctaliation((vs. 38* I 38. "Eye for an eye." As a legal I remedy the law of retaliation was prOb- I ably the best possible in a 'rfide state of I society. 39. "But I say." Christ In- I troduces a different method of dealing I with an assailant. "Resist not evil." I "Resist not him that is evil." "Turn? 9 the other." It Is the preparedness after one indignity, not to Invite, but to I submit meekly to another, without re- 'I taliation, which this strong language Is I meant to convey. I 40. "Coat?cloak." The coat was the I inner garment, tne cioaK was me outer and more costly one. 41. "Compel thee." etc. Officers and couriers in the service of tlie Roman Government traveling through the provinces had authority to impress anyj man or his beast into service for the purpose of carrying them and their baggage on their journey. 42. "Give ?turn not thou away." Tula cannot mean that an industrious man is togiye at the call of every idler, but it does mean that we are to be. large-hearted, _ generous, ready to help others * and grant favors. We are here exhorted to patience and forgiveness, 1. When we receive in our persons all sorts of insults and affronts (v. 30). 2. When we are despoiled of our goods (v. 40). 3. When our bodies are forced to undergo all kinds of toils, vexations and torments (v. 41). He that avenges himself must lose the mind of Christ and thus suffer an injury far greater than lb can ever receive from man. III.' On loving enemies (vs. 43-48). 43. "Love thy neighbor." The rabisis ' interpreted the command, "Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself,",in Lev.' 19:18, as referring to .Tews only. They, therefore believed it to be right to hate, the rest of mankind. 44. "But I say."l Jesus opposed this narrow, wickedr view of the case and ."extended our neighborhood over all mankind." See, Luke 10:25-37. "Love your enemies."; ?(Rom. 5:5). It has been said that thla' one precept is a sufficient proof of the, holiness of the gospel' on those who callj down upon you God's curses. "The; 1 -L- ?+ mof/thlAW; uest UUUJUJCUtaiJ vu luvob . counsels is the bright example of the! One who gave theiu. See 1 Pet. 2:21-24; Rom. 12120, 21; 1 Cor. 4:12; 1 Pet1 . 3:9." . 45. "May be the children." etc. To, act as Christ commands here would be: te act like God, who blesses those who!*, curse Him and are Kts enemies by the[ i gifts of sun and rain. This is divine.) "Sun to rise." etc. He Imparts to all: alike, but all do not receive alike. j 46. "What reward." If you have ! only loved tho3e who lofre you, you-, have only come up to the standard of' common sinners. "Publicans." Tax-; . gatherers employed by the Romans , and hated by the Jews. i 47. "Brethren ouly." The promin-' i once of salutation in the social life of L the East gives a spccial-vividness to > this precept. To utter the formal,' i I "Peace be with yoju," to follow that npj with manifold compliments and wishes' /v i was to recognize those whom men sat > i luted as friends and brothers. ButV^ this the very heathen did ("heathen,"A| rather than "publicans." being the true reading); and were the followers of ^ Christ to be content with merely copying heathen customs? Christians mcsb do to their enemies what the heathen] 1 did to their friends. "What do yej more than others." 1. Disciples havej ; to do more than oth?rs. (1) They main J tain the Christian life; (2) they extend] , the cause of Christ. 2. They are abte ' to do more than others. (1; They arej in alliance with (Joel; (2i (hey havej " more moral power. :i. More is expect? ed of them than of others. (I) By their Saviour; (2) by the world; (.3) by their! own consciences. IS. "Be?perfect."' Complete; perfect in love. Take God' as the model instead of publiraus. The bitterness of bur w ay tnay be the * best Dart of His wjsdoiu. Up For Alimony at 89, John H. Merritt, eighty-nine years old. who for fifty years has been con1 nected with a book store in East 125th ; street. New York City, was directed ' to show cause before Judge Amend, of the Supreme Court, why he should not be punished for contempt for neglectI ing to pay alimony to his wife, who is seventy-six, and who obtained a separation from him tweuty yearo , ago. f Hanncned to One Hin. r Within the last three years Colonel * "l FI. B. Maxon, of Reno, Nev., Las fallen down a ruining shaft, breaking botb > legs; been knocked across a Los Angeles street by an automobile; has been in three railroad wrecks; participated in an automobile smash-up in Salt Lake City, and seven weeks ago was trampled Dearly to death by Borne horses ?j^ Motor Ambulance* for London. 'After years of earnest consideration the London City Council has decided to establish, "experimentally,", two ambulance stations which will be equipped with motor ambulances,