- - 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,