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G|?! i THE CANO
Villi! OR A TEE OF
I I =====
By JAME
I ! OBinNIM
CHAPTER X. 9 1
Farewell Hope.
Adair was a man who had few visitors,
but as soon as he reached his
rooms he shut out all possible comers.
The investigation he was about
to make was as delicate as it was
momentous. First he made sure that
there was nothing more in the blotting
pad that he had purchased save
the mere leaves, and also that on
them there was no impress of writtfcn
words which could throw any
14ght upon the matter in hand. Then
he compared most carefully the
memoradum he had taken from the
dead man's mirror with the handwriting
of the letter found in $e
book. Making allowance for the
fact that one was executed with the
haste and inattention to catfgraphy
peculiar to a "rough copy," and the
other was a list of references prob
ably written witn some care, ne reit
confident that they were by the same
hand. As for the contents of the
letter they were of such importance
to a certain young lady as to account
for her taking any steps to prevent-'
them reaching the eye of the person
for whom it was intended, and of
the step that had been taken he
could make a shrewd guess. Although
deficient in imagination
Adair had a logical mind; he could
follow a chain of reasoning, and
therefore much more one of facts,
link by link, and the conclusion he
arrived at was that the letter of
which Mrs. Aylett had spoken, the
original of which he now held in his
hand, had been stolen by Jeannette
at the instance of her young mistress.
He did not believe that it
was Miss Aldred who had sent those
flowers; it had been one far nearer
to the dead man than she, though
they were sent-for anything but sentimental
reasons. It had been all a
ruse to get possession of that compromising
letter, and it had succeeded.
So far Sophy's whole proceed
ings were as plain to him as if he
had been a witness of them.
And those of the dead man were
equally clear. Composition had been
* o /HflR/Milf mot tor with 'Mm anrl it
was probable that he had written
more than one copy of so momentous
a communication before he had got
it to his mind. The rest he had no
doubt destroyed, but this one had
escaped his attention and the search
of others. How thankful Miss Sophy
ought to be that it had fallen
into such safe hands as his. This
was the letter:
"As to your proposition" (a word
poor Perry had spelt right, probably
from his acquaintance with Euclid)
"of my going to Australia, that is put
out of the question, father, by a circumstance
which I am about to tell
you, and which will astonish you
.very much. I am a married man.
You will at once exclaim, 'some barmaid,'
but it is not a barmaid at all,
1 ao assure you. n is a youug mu,y
of good position, and an Hairess.
She has twenty thousand golden sovs
"of her own, or will have when she
comes of age, which will be in less,
than twelve months. This is pretty
well, I think, for the 'disgrace of the
family.' The whole matter is at
present a secret; you will perhaps
say, .'that means a lie,' but you will
only have to look in the register of
St. Aune's Church when you are next
in the city, and you will find that it
Is all right. She is very anxious to
keep it quiet till she attains her majority.
I should not have told you
of r#U this but for your last letter,
which has compelled me to make a
clean breast of it, and it is quite contrary
to my wife's wishes?think of
my having a wife! how funny it
sounds!?that I do tell you. She
has an uncle on whom she is in some
degree dependent, and of course, he
will be awfully riled. It Is for you
to consider what is best to be done;
for my part, I shall be glad when the
murder's out. Under present circumstances,
as you may imagine, it
isn't much of a honeymoon for me.
Besides this uncle, by the bye, Sophy
(that's her name) has an aunt,
but she is very fond of her, and,
moreover, has given us such opportunities
for meeting that for her own
sake therfe is little doubt that she
will take our side. I think you will
own that I have done pretty well for
myself, and if you could manage to
send me fifty pounds, or even five
and twenty, which under present circumstances
will, of course, be repaid
all right, it would be a great convenience.
As to taking' my degree,
that, of course, don't matter now one
haypenny, and I don't think you'll
sav anv mors about Australia, since
I've found the gold diggings at
home."
"So they had been married, had
they?" mused Adair, with a cynical
smile, "those two young people." \It
was no wonder, then, that dull
'Adonis had shown so much jealousy
on Miss Sophy's account, and
had also been on so very familiar a
footing with her; that little excursion
in the roundabout was also explained,
and the young lady's companionship
at such an hour fully justified,
for why should not a wedded
pair walk when and where they
pleased? His own suspicions as to
Miss Sophy's tendency to flirtation
were now shown to be as baseless as
they were injurious, and everything
was satisfactorily cleared up. Yes,
oo if CODmOfi tfl Mr
uyuu mg uuv/xvj uo dw*?vu ? - John
Adair, most satisfactorily.
For the first time since her husband's
death Sophy wished that he
could be recalled to life.
In her distress and agony of mind
it seemed amazing to her, as it did
to the convict in his cell, that human
beings should worry themselves
and be troubled about ordinary misfortunes.
She envied the kitchenmaid
she met upon the stairs, the
very charwoman tr.at came to help
in the scullcry?nay, the v=ry beg
gar wcnian uiai caweu jw uiuhuj
meat.
I
iI'S WARDjj?h
MOSEY MADNESS. ? I I "J
___________ CB?f ^
S PAYN.
? ? S
OiiDiecxeflDsiD*
It was now three days ago since
she had received a certain letter
with a northern postmark to the following
effect:
"Dear Miss Gilbert?My reason for
addressing you you will find in the
inclosed rough draft of a letter,
which I have reason to believe never
reached its destination. I came upon
it by accident this morning in a bloting
book at second-hand, belonging
to a member of my college, lately
deceased, and I lose not a moment in
putting you in possession of it. In
all human possibility no eye but my
own has ever seen it. I need not
tell you that I know how to keep
the secrets of those I respect, and
when you have destroyed it, you may
regard it as never having existed. I
am detained here upon business for
a few days, but on my return to
Cambridge shall hope to. have the
pleasure of seeing you. Yours most
faithfully, JOHN ADAIR."
1 t> nlrtfin rr\ woo o rnno-h nr\r\tr
[ J. 1JO lUUVOUIC '? uo t* A VU^U wyj
of her husband's letter to his father,
which she had destroyed without
reading it, hut the original of which
she recognized at once. A mercenary,
coarse communication enough,
announcing his union to her without
the pretense of any gratification in
it, save for the fortune it conferred
upon him, and which his greedy fingers
were evidently eager to clutch.
If she had had any illusion still left
concerning him?the least hope that
his love might have been reawakened
?this would have been quite sufficient
to dispel them; but she had had
none. His words humiliated her, but
had no power to give her pain. What
shocked her, terrified her and had
dragged her down from that height
of fancied security to the lowest
depth was that other letter, which
| ever since its receipt she had carried
[ about in her bosom, where it lay like
an asp?Adair's letter. It was not
only that it showed all her precautions
had been useless, and that the
secret she had striven to keep with
such pains and loss of self-respect
was no more her own; but the terms
of his communication were also terrible.
Poor Sophy had, indeed, her comforter,
and one of a more cheery sort
than those whom Job had, in her
waiting maid. Jeannette did not remind
her how she had once warned
her young mistress "not to boast"
nor, under pretense of sympathy, did
she expiate upon her misery, as it is
the habit of her class to do. She
took a practical view.
"Well, Miss Sophy" (she always
ignored the fact of her mistress* marriage,
even when they were alone),
"things look bad, no doubt; but they
might be much worse."
"Worse," murmured the unhappy
girl, like an echo from some tottering
ruin; "how cvould they be worse?"
"Well, ma'am, you might have
been so situated that you must have
told the canon or got somebody to
marry you off-hand, to save your
character."
With a flufeh and a shiver like one
in a fever, poor Sophy moaned acquiescence.
Untoward fate had certainly
shown some mercy to her in
that one particular; t^pt the stress
Jeannette had placed upon the word
"off-hand" disquieted her. It seemed
to suggest that marriage at some
time or another, though not perhaps
immediately, was the only way out
of the difficulty even now.
"Don't talk of marriage," sue exclaimed,
with bitterness. "I will
never, never marry again."
"Never is a long day, Miss Sophy,"
said Jeannette, cheerfully.
"One says the same when people
die, 'We shall never, never forget
them;' yet somehow, one gets over
it."
"I hate men," continued Sopny,
fiercely?"a cowardly, false, greedy
race."
"They're all that, miss, no doubt;
yet life would be dull without 'em."
j "I don't mind dullness; I desire
it. Oh," she moaned, as if in physical
pain, "oh for my last year of
life again!"
"Why, bless me, Miss Sophy, one
would think you were on your death
bed! If you did have it back- you
would be sure to do something fool
ish; it's only natural. What's the
good of crying over spilt milk? Wipe
it up, and start afresh. What is it
that makes you so harsh with this
Mr. Adair? He couldn't help finding
Mr. Perry's letter; and, having
found it, what was the poor young
man to do? If he had said he had
torn it up, you wouldn't have believed
him."
"No, not upon his oath, I wouldn't,"
was the energetic reply.
"Well, there it is, you see; hit
high or low he can't please you."
(It was an unfortunate metaphor
under the ciFcumstances; but, like a
good many other folk, Miss Jeannette
Perkins used quotations as
they came to hand without much regard
to their meaning.) "He has
sent you the original document,
which, if he had wished to frighten
you with anything, he could nave
kept and held over you. There's
many a one as -would have done that,
you may depend upon it."
"I dare say," sighed the unhappy
Sophy. Her faith in male nature was
at its lowest; to her mind, all men
were tyrants, and all women, who
were not wise and prudent, their
slaves. Still, this last view of the
matter did give her a little comfort.
It was really something in Adair's
favor that he had given up the compromising
MS.
"By the bye, I do hope, Miss
Sophy, as you have burnt the thing."
"Why should I burn it?" she answered.
desneratelv: "what's the use
of taking precautions? What lias
resulted from those in ray case?
What has come of all my falsehoods
and deceits, and theft?for I have
even stooped to that?why, nothing,
except exposure."
"As to theft, Miss Sophy," re
1 turned the waiting maid, earnestly,
"if you mean the taking of Mr. Perry's
letter, that was my work, not
yours, and I am quite ready to bear
the responsibility of it; I didn't like
tbe Job at tlie time, but tnere was
no actual harm in it. A dead man's
letter, about a matter that can never
take place, can be scarcely considered
property. And as to exposure,
you must permit me to say that you
are rather ungrateful to hint at such
a thing; for nothing of the kind has
happened. A certain gentleman has
by an unfortunate circumstance been
admitted into your confidence, that's
all." ..
CHAPTER XI. 1
c
A Proposal.
From the moment on which Sophy
received the young scholar's letter, i
with its all-important inclosure, or, t
at all events, when that interview j
with her guardian had been concluded,
without her having had the
courage to confess her secret to him, t
I think she had a pretty certain con- <]
viction that Adair would become her t
husband. It was evidently his intention
to win her, and his force of
will, she was well aware, was'infl- e
nitolv Rtrnncpr than her own. She r
had refused to acknowledge his vie- B
tory even to herself, and had fought e
against her apprehensions, but with t
the consciousness that she was fighting
against fate, Jeannette, very
wisely for the object she had in view, t
had not laid so much stress upon the [
necessity of the union as upon its |
conveniences and advantages. Mrs. t
Adair might not be, perhaps, so pas- E
sionately in love with her mistress
as another young gentleman had
once been; but from what had hap- f
pened in that case, passion, it would t
seem, went a very little way toward 3
insuring happiness in married life. ;
A dinner party at the canon's had a
all the effect that he had Intended it t
to produce, and more. :
It not only brought Sophy "out of
her shell," but Mr. Mavors out of his.
He called at the Laurels no less than E
three times within the next fortnight ]
on the transparent pretext of wish- t
ing to see-the canon (knowri to be j
glued to the concordance in his col- E
lege rooms), and though he didn't i
say anything particular to Sophy or i
anybody else, looked (as Miss Aldred f
privately assured her brother) (
"volumes." Nor, although he
showed no unseemly haste to make
sure of the victory he had gained,
did Mr. John Adair let the grass <
grow under his feet.
Even with the power that hia
knowledge of her secret gave him, he
understood his task was to be no *
easy one; that he had to raise not (
ft nf InHffforoTinp ^
\JLLIJ a, u^au TlVl^Ub VA. iuu>uv< v/uw,
but to remove a certain sense of oppression
which his previous conduct
had produced. Jeannette's warning
words had in this matter been very
seasonable, and he had laid them to
heart. From henceforth he dropped
no syllable to Sophy that could have
suggested mastery, or .that she was
in any way under his thumb. , By
this judicious course of treatment,
joined to a manner of great but respectful
tenderness, Adair succeeded
in inducing in her a feeling of acquiescence;
she began to contemplate
the prospect of becoming his
wife without a shudder, and even
flattered herself that it was not a
case of compulsion.
On a certain afternoon that young
lady had seen from her window
Adair coming toward the house as
usual, and when the door bell rang,
had gone down to receive him in the
drawing room. - It had\ become a
thing for her to do so, when, as was
generally the case at that hour, Aunt
Maria was not at home. She was exceedinelv
sumrised. therefore, when, |
instead of Mr. Adair, the butler an- 1
nounced Mr. Mavors. He wore a
graver look than usual, and for the J
moment it struck her that something \
was amiss with the canon, which the
tutor had come to tell her.
"You've bad no bad news, I hope, J
Mr. Mavors," she. said, with a little
flutter at her heart. j
"I hope not," he answered, smiling.
"Is it so very strange, Miss !
Sophy, that I should pay you a 1
visif?" 3
"It is not a favor we are accus- [
tomed to very frequently," she an- j
swered, smiling. "You are like an
order of merit, Mr. Mavors, of which '
we are very proud, but which is not 1
put on save upon high days and holi- 1
days." ' !
"And then only worn on the out- '
side," observed the tutor, significant*
ly. !
To te Continued. I '
Bug Blows a Whistle.
A common beetle last night tem- j
porarily disabled a Lake Shore locomotive
pulling a west-bound passenger
train, and raised pandemonium 1
along the route for twelve miles :
from here to Berea.
The bug managed to fall into the
whistle of the engine. For an hour
the whistle blew?blew demoniacal
screeches, falsetto screams, drawing
excited crowds to the track. It was
at milking time. The cows became 1
unmanageable, and many a pail of '
milk was spilled by the otherwise 1
peaceful bossies. Horses and sheep
fled in terror. The hysteric screeches
made rural doctors run from the supper
table. They grasped their medicine
cases and raced to the railway
stations ic. anticipation of a fatal
wreck.
The engineer, unable to stop the
whistle and fearing that he would
run out of steam, threw open the
throttle wide and made for Berea.
There the station master and engin
eer almost Had a ngnt. xne iormer
insisted that the noise be stopped,
and the engineer yelled back in his
ear that "she won't stop." The engine
was run on a siding, where the
railway mechanics found the big bug
in the whistle.?Cleveland' Dispatch
to Chicago Inter-Ocean.
Tackles Itself.
In a year Germany had 321 cases
of murder and manslaughter and the
United States 8976. In the former
country ther8 was a percentage of
35.15 trials with convictions; in the
' - + ^ 1 9
laiiei <1 i;CiWCUltt5C VI. X.U. JTXHJ UUUJ
browsing around in quest of food for
thought might tackle this.?Philadelphia
Ledger.
Vladivostok gets most of its beef?
[ressed and frozen?from Australia.
The nutritive value of an egg is
wo and a half times its weight of
ow's milk.
A youth of seventeen who hanged
limself at Bristol, England, painted
limself with green from head to foot
ust before the act.
Ermine is nothing more nor less
han the winter coat of the weasel.
?he weasel is white in winter. In
he summer it is brown.
Charles Manners, the famous opera
in itori hv n Tjfindnn .pt
y ID l/l V>UikVU Krj w ?
iert with being one of the finest
.mateur milliners living, his work
squaling some of the "best French
Qodels.
Snails are blessed with great viality.
A case is recorded of an
Jgyp'ian desert snail which came to
ife upon being immersed in warm
(rater, after having passed four years
;lued to a card in a museum.
If one were asked, remarks London
lealth, to name the most patient
nan on earth, the reply would prob.bly
be?Paul Cinquevalli. The fam>us
feat of throwing up a hen's egg
md catching it on a plate without^
ireaking it necessitated nine years'
>f constant practice.
There were some very candid per;ons
in the time of George II. In
L731 the Gentleman's Magazine anlounced:
"Married, the Rev. Mr.
*oger Waina, of York, about twentytix
years of age, to a Lincolnshire
ady, upward of eighty, with whom
le is to have ?8000 in money, ?300
>er annum, and a coach-and-four
luring his life only."
LOBSTERS' CLAWS. ,
Various Jh'acts adoui xiieir umci*
erices and Replacement.
Any one who has closely observed
;he lobster has noticed that its two
:laws are not alike. One is bigger
.han the other, and there is a ^iffermce
between them in shape. The
arger claw is designed for crushing
objects, and is armed with blunt
;ubercles. The smaller one is designed
for seizing and holding, and
is provided with teeth which are
v^ll adapted for that service. ;In a
ecent number of Science Professor
Francis H. Herrick, of the Western
Reserve University, Cleveland, jjpresents
some interesting details ibout
:hese members.
The big claW occurrs about as freluently
on the right side as o& the
eft, but it has been discovered in
Ish hatcheries, where the matter
:ould be closely studied,, that all ot
the brood of a particular female
lobster are either right-handed or
left-haaded. That is, the arrangenent
is'determined in advance in the
;gg. \
Similarity between the two claws,
:hough very unusual, is not absolutely
unknown. Three cases of the kind
)ut of 2430 lobsters examined have
been reported by a naturalist at
Wood's Hole, Mass. In these instances
the claws were of the sharp
toothed variety. On the British
:oast, however, a specimen was found
i few years ago which had two crushing
claws. - .
One of the most remarkable freaks
Df nature is the precise manner Id
which a missing claw is often replaced
by a new one. With a certain
species of shrimp, which is a much
smaller crustacean than the lobster,
it has been noticed that if the crushing
claw is lost by accident or othex
:ause the one which grows in its
place is invariably a toothed claw!
rhe shrimp then has two claws of the
same kind. That phenomenon rarely
occurs with the lobster, although
cases are known where a crushing
:law was replaced by a toothed claw.
It has been suggested, therefore, that
the few lobsters which hare beeD
observed with two toothed claws may
have had some such experience before
they were caught, and had not
been so equipped from infancy.
The Indifferent Kich.
A newspaper corespondent was
talking about Father Bernard Vaughan,
of London.
"Though Father Vaughan's congregation,"
he said, "Is one of the most
fashionable in the world, the good
priest is always on the side of the
poor.
"tr? nolle +"nt-inor flnrl's net ehil
dren, and I once heard him in an address
tell the rich that they were responsible
for the poor's faults?the
drinking and so on?"saying that the
poverty of the poor wasn't the result
of their drinking, but their drinking
was the result of their poverty.
"He declared, that the rich in their
indifference and careless cruelty toward
the poor,'reminded him of a certain
surgeon.
"This surgeon, lecturing a clacs of
students, said:
" 'I was so excited at my first operation
that I made a mistake."
" 'A serious one, sir!' asked a student.
" 'Oh, no,' the surgeon answered.
'I only took oil the wrong leg.' "?
Washington Star.
The Idle Dog.
"Motor heart" in dogs is a new disease,"
says one of the King's veterinary
surgeons. "The motor car possesses
a curious fascination for dogs.
They enjoy the swift motion, the exciting,
scorching rush through the alias
much as their masters. But the
veterinary surgeon in many cases is
obliged to curb this canine fondness
for the car, bccause of the injurious
effect on a dog's heart."?London Express.
/ v j/: '
THE SUNDAY SCHOOL.
INTERNATIONAL LESSON COMi
MENTS FOR JUNE 9, BY THE
^ REV. I. W. HENDERSON.
Subject: The Passover, Ev. 12:21-30
?Golden Text: Ex. 12:13?
Memory Verses, 26, 27?Commentary
on the Day's Lesson.
This Is the story of God's blood
covenant with Israel in Earypt. Covenants
are a feature of the historic
life of the East. A bread covenant
lasts for fortv years we are told.
When a man breaks bread with another
he is that man's friend for
four decades. The blood covenant
between men is an everlasting covenant.
So it is here. With the shedding
of the blood of the lamb the
covenant of God with Israel reaches
out to eternity.
The lesson is replete with lessons.
God gave the Israelites the covenant
because they trusted in Him and
called upon Him in their distress.
Israel put her hope in God and she
made an effort to keep in some measure
the commands of God. She was
caught in the whirlpool of a national
and industrial and spiritual iniquity
that seemed overwhelming. The
people were so bowed down with the
sins that were practiced against them
that they were in danger of losing
their courage and hope itself. There
seemed to be no human way of escape.
God, however, heard their
cries or suffering. Tneir sorrow
reached His heart. They looked to
Him for deliverance. And He delivered
them. Their deliverance came
because, they came" to a realizing
sense of their dependence on God.
And we must become conscious of
our need for God if we .are to enter
into the covenant 'which God at a '
later day made with men in the person
of Jesus Christ.
It is remarkable that Egypt reaped
the consequences of her own misdoings.
God brought no hasty judgment
to bear on these evil people.
The king and the nation were warned
nine times before the final and the
awful consequences of their own iniquity
fell upon them. And as Egypt
was warned so we are warned. Sin
has cumulative consequences. We
do not reap the worst at first. The
evil that men do is followed by consequences
that are in the nature of
a warning.. They are not final, in
a sense. The consequences of sin are
like the pains that are incidental to
physical-ills. A.sick body warns in
the very pain that we undergo that
something is the matter, that we are
reaping the consequences of physical
misdoing. And so the consequences,
many and varied as they are, that
follow in the ^vake of sin. are warnings
to us to desist. They are in
a way the voice of God speaking to
us through the immutable laws of
His own world. Pharaoh had due
notice of the consequences of his sin
/against Israel, but he would not
heed the warning. Sin became a
habit with him and the consequences
of that sin became increasingly acute
and horrible. So it is with our sin. If
we do not heed the early warning we
may be sure that we shall reap a
worse harvest of evil consequences
in the-end. - ...
Another noticeable thing is that
the Israelites had to help themselves
out of their trouble. God made the
promise to them that when the destruction
fell on the first born of the
land He would pass them by. if their
door posts were sprinkled with the
shed blood of the lambs. That made
it necessary that they should be
helpers in the work that God was to
accomplish for them. This is the
divine plan and it is the only plan.
If God had saved them from the general
calamity without making them
do something for themselves in order
to make this salvation effective
they would not have valued it so
highly as they did. We must cooperate
with-God. And in the Christian
economy no man can be saved
unless he is willing to co-operate 1
with God. If God did not demand
that we should conform to His plane
for our redemption in Christ we
should not value that salvation as
highly as we do: But because we
are'called upon to work out our own
salvation under the guidance and em*
powering of God Himself we prize
salvation in Jesus Christ as the greatest
boon that the world holds for humanity.
The three words that close the
28th verse of the lesson show why
It is that Israel escaped, why the
Passover is commemorated by loyal
Jews everywhere to-day, why it is
that this episode in the life of the
chosen people of God has remained
' -?J 4- /v IK/% + *>?> f V* thot
as a classic wiuie&s w tuc num vUU.
God shepherds the peoples who love
Him. "So did they!" That Is to
say they were obedient. And obedience
always has brought its reward
and it always will bring its reward.
We in America to-day are desirous
of being released from the power of
evil men and evil conditions that
have made life hardly worth the living
for multitudes of our people an<!P
that have made us all hang our faces
in shame. But we shall never enter
into the promised land of the realized
kingdom of God in this country until
we obey God. If the Israelites had
not done precisely as God had commanded
there would have been no*
deliverance for them. And America
is no more precious to God than Israel
was. And Americans are living
under no different regulations than
thosg under which Israel lived. To
be saved we must ao as uwu tens usj i
And whenever we hear a clear call
of God for service or for duty it is
for us not to deny the duty or the!
call, but to give it supremacy in our
lives.
Chocolate Makers.
Switzerland produces more chocolate
than all other countries combined,
and the Swiss consume more
of the article in proportion to the
population than any people in the
world. The annual consumption
amounts to $2,500,000, and the exports
to nearly 56,000,000. The
yearly export to the United States
is about $1'.000,000, while England
takes over $2,000,000 of concerns in
the confederation engaged in the
I ? ? of anrl therf*
m<tnuiaui.ui c c/l _
are employed in the various factories
about 16,000 persons, many of whom
are women.
No More Bewhiskcred Conductor?.
Every conductor on the Burlington
Railroad system must hereafter have
a clean face. Orders have gone forth
over the Burlington system that, beginning
May l, all conductors must
have cleanly shaven faces, wear
white linen collars and ties, and that
?ach must wear a waistcoat.
Sales to the Philippines.
Sales of American goods to the
Philippines last year were $5,459,000;
to Germany $234,742,000. '
..
THE GREAT DESTROYER
SOME STARTLING FACTS ABOUT
THE VICE OF INTEMPERANCE.
The Chicago Evening American,
Which Docs Not Pose as a Prohibition
Paper, Says "Treating"
is Most Blighting Curse.
The Chicago Evening American
ioes not pose as a prohibition paper;
its testimony aa to the drink habit
will be therefore the more perti'
nent. it pronounccs treating as the
city's "most blighting curse." It
says:
Treating costs Chicago $300,000 a
day. Chicago's daily liquor bills are
5400,000, three-fourths of which, it
is estimated by saloon keepers, is
spent by men anxious to be "good
fellows."
If it were a crime to buy a drink
for another, and the law against the
crime were enforced, only one drink
would be taken where four are taken
now.
While you are reading this statement
40,000 men are crooking Hheir
arms over Chicago "rs, asking at
least 40,000 other meu. "What'll you
have? I'll buy this one."
"What'll yoy have to drink?" is <
without doubt the most commonly
used expression among Chicago men,
not barring comments on the weather
and the "Is it hot enough for you?"
tale of the dog days.
This staggering sum, Chicago's
tribute to the drink evil, this $400,000
that goes over the every day
of the 365 days of t! , aar, would
buy:
.A loaf of bread big enough to build
a wall around Chicago and stretch to
the Atlantic coast.
Sausage enough, if strung link-tolink,
to connect New York and San
Francisco. v
Nice warm suits for 80,000 workingmen.
Suits for 125,000 boys.
Shoes for 400,000 shoeless school
children.
Four hundred thousand dollars a
day for Chicago drinking! This sum
is almost beyond comprehension. <
This means $144,000,000 a year.
Or $108,000,000 a year Is what it 1
costs the Chicago men to say:
"What'll you have?"
This is one-tenth of the tribute of
the entire nation. The United States :
spends $1,500,000,000 annually for *
intoxicants. In other words, the
American thirst represents an expense
each 365 days equal to a sum
larger than the capital stock of all
the banks combined, and about one- j
third of the national debt.
It is estimated that about three- 1
fourths of the people are total ab- 1
stainers. ' Hence the burden of this 1
great thirst drain falls upon the 1
other one-fourth?plus the unfor- 1
tunates that happen to be dependent
upon them. Thus it ia seen that each
drinker spends $75 a ^ear In keeping 1
off the water wagon. ]
If all these 20,000,000 tipplers ]
would refrain from drinking for a 1
year and make a pot of the savings <
it would start every illiterate child in |
the United States on the way to a ]
college education. If the drinkers of |
the world'would forget liquor for a 1
year and a half they could corner the ]
gold of the world, getting every 1
ounce in existence. I
If every individual had consumed |
his proportion of all the intoxicants
since 1876 he would have swallowed 1
about 240 gallons. The proportion to
aach is steadily growing, however, so <
that it is now about twenty gallons
for each individual. The increase is (
due to the increase of the foreign |
element that drinks beer. 1
In those States where the foreign- ]
born element is largest there is the l
least effort to restrict the sale of in- 1
x mViisiVi fart* {a fqIron tft ,
cate that pure-blooded Americans
have set themselves against the evil
of drunkenness. The Southern
States are receiving but four per cent,
of the immigrants, but they are leading
the crusade against the saloon.?
Sabbath Reading.
Visited Upon the Children.
Bishop Warren tells of a father of
a large family who was a drunkard.
All his children except one died of
the inherited curse. This one, though
an abstainer, had an obstinate form
of dyspepsia, attributed by physicians
to hereditary influences. His children
suffered from the sins of their
grandfather. A daughter died of
consumption, a son of delirium tremens,
another son shot himself on
the verge of delirium tremens. /
Poser For the Anti-Prohibitionists.
It has cost the voters of Maine
about eight cents each to have the 1
laws against the saloon enforced in ;
Maine this year. ?iow mucn wouiu i
it have cost per capita to have had | i
the saloons all over the State pros- J
pering at the expense of the physi- 1
cal, .mental and moral well-being of
the citizens of the State? Will somebody
reckon that up??Portland
(Me.) Express.
A Momentous Decision.
Judge Samuel R. Artman, of the
Circuit Court of Boone County, In- '
dia, and former Speaker of the ^n- i
diana House of Representatives, on ]
Wednesday, February 13, at Lebanon,
Ind., declared that saloon license <
is illegal and unconstitutional, and '
refused license to an applicant on the <
ground' that the State had no right <
VU AUl UiiC lv au/ wvuj
1
A Scientific Belief.
Baron Liebig, the distinguished
chemist, says: "We can prove it with .
mathematical certainty that so much <
flour as can lie on the point of a table
knife is more nutritious than eight j
quarts of the best Bavarian beer." ,
Florida Papers Defiant.
It is pleasing to note that so many
of Florida's best weekly newspapers 1
are openly and defiantly fighting the <
whisky traffic, and in doing it, stand ]
for the moral, and best of all, for the 1
community in which they are pub- 1
lished.?Tallahasse True Democrat.
Corporations Demand Sober Men. j
Great corporations for business
reasons more and more are demanding
that the men entrusted with their
interests shall not drink. 1
Temperance .^vies.
The whisky habit is a mortgage on
the future with interest payable every
day.
Ohio has local option in about 1000
out of 1371 townships; in 450 out of
76S towns and municipalities.
Oregon has three counties entirely
"dry," and about seventy precincts in
others without licenses.
The great railway systems require
total abstinence of their employes.
The time has come when policy as
truly as principle demands that men I
in public life should stand up for
common morality. I
H
"SO THE FOLKS SAY." v JH
The corse of the rums hop no mortal ca^^B
tell, |K
It robs men of Heaven and sends them
hell: B?
And yet there are many, 0 can it be, pra^HH
Who vote it to license, so the folks ssvf^^H
What, license the rroffshoo! do the xoll^^^l
say '
It lightens their taxes, so some of the^^H
think, . v '^HDj
To hcense this business of selling stron^HB
drink; BH
So, along with the barkeeper moltitud^HH
M
Taking bread from the hungry, so the foDfl^H
fl
What, food from the starving! do the fottflH
say?
Vis a fell institution they each one confea^^H
Cruel wrong in the wine-cup and sorry dii^HH
tress; .*^M|
And yet 'mid their praying'for peace da^Hj
by day,
There are those who vote whisky, to thflB
folks say.
What, vote with the brewer! do the folk^^H
say? : HB
* ?7>
lo save men by statute is wrong, som^n|
Who'll vote' to make legal the work o^H
repair; |HH
As though law to save men were'wora^^fl
than to slay, \
And yet they are good men, so the foUaHB
Bay. -
What, true-hearted, good men!* can thflH
folks say? HI
There's a time in the future, and soci^H|
'twill he here, flQ9
When the voter and seller and vjcti& oi^H
beer Bfl
Will have finished life's journey, have^H
spent its brief day> M
And must 'fetand up together, so the ?olkl^H|
say, - , - - ; UU
Face tg face with the Master! 'What
"Inasmuch as ye did it" whate'er it may^H
be, B
"To the' least of My brethren, ye did It toflNI
And by this will He reckon in that judg^Hj
merit day, > '. B
And not by our praying, so the folks sayi^H
r>__ j " j :ii .11
Dy uomg ana praying: bo win tui say. . ,
?C. B. Besse, in Home Herald- ^H|
The Ethics of Pain. fll
Bishop McCormick's study of TPaln^H
and Sympathy," though brief, isHH
thoughtful. We cannot contemplate?
the spectacle of nature's pain, he tellsfl
us, without having it borne in nponHa
our consciousness that It is in some^H
sense our pain. That is what the^H
Germans mean when they speak bf^H
Weltschmerz,, that- world-sorrow^H
which highest natures feel most often^H
and most deeply. Nature, says BishopMg
McCormick, but represents purselves.
Her lesser children, the brute crea-Hfl
tion, are inexorably bound1 togethefM
with the feeling and the faith of he^H
best and latest horn. "The gospel offl
redemDtion is sent not only to maa^H
but to every creature." Yet pain per-^H
sists. Indeed, t/hen we realize th?^H
tiigh degree of mental suffering that
comes to brains more finely organ
[zed, and nervous systems more high-BB
[y keyed, It seems as though the sense
Df pain had never been so keen as lt^K
s to-day. What does It all mean? Mfl
"Men are great," says Bishop lfc-rH||
Cormick, "according-to their sorrolre^H
ind the way they bear them. Pain^H
puts the finishing touches,"i a round*
Ing and completing of human nature^H
ind experience forever wanting In. an^H
unshadowed life. "Pain is catholio^H
ind cosmopolitan." The painless llteHI
s shallow. "Who does not know hoift^M
character is ripened by sorrow?" S?fl|
pain must not make the Christian alH
pessimist, but rather heroic, faithful,
snduring. It "must be to lis rem-.^B
sdial, educative, divine." Pafa has.HR
Its origin in sic, and yet it is perfectly
reconcilable with God's love v.and^H
Sod's law. There ;ls nothing hostila^H
which He cannot make helpful.
Interwoven as it is with'sin, becomefr^H
in God's hands a means of puriflQa-MB
ion and redemption. Pain is teacH-^M
ing us sympathy. To the'old quest-HH
ion, "Is it nothing to yon, all ye tha?^|
pass by?" We can answer: "Thank^B
Sod, it is already something. By and I
by it will be everytmng." me
passer^as become the by-stander and
:he by-stander the sympathizer.
And so we are brought to pair^slH
only panacea, the sympathy of Christ'
"If we here touch religion at its most B|
mystical point," says Bishop McCor-^|
cnick, "the experience of all Gbrig-^|
tians testifies that we touch it at its^^f
most vital point." For "pain is not
punitive only, but remedial also, not
of anger, but of love." /This, says
Bishop McCormick, is "God's fin&l les-^B
son, His most intimate secret, His
most uplifting revelation."?The ^B
r'.hnrrhman. HI
??? ''
Holding Up Christ.
A gentleman wa? visiting a friend
who was an ard<^|: admirer of Mr.
Spurgeon, and was continually prateing
him as a preacher. VJH
"I have never heard him," said the^|
visitor, "but nest SundayI will go
and see whether he deserves the
praise you bestow upon him." H
So he went to the Tabernacle, and
on his return from the morning ser- HT
vice his host met him with the eager
guestion: "Well, what do you think H
of him?"
"Nothing," was the reply. Then/^H
seeing the look of utter astonishment fl|
and sorrow on his friend's face, he IS
said again: "No, nothing." |M
But his eyes filled with tears of joy
is be added: "All I can think of is the |H
Savior he held up to us." H
"* A Ka
NO nner praise luuii luio wuw wv
passed upon any man's preaching..? H|
Cottager and Artisan. H
Every Christian a Missionary. "flfl
No consecrated Christian can be an Bj
Idler. "As My Father has sent Me
even so send I you." We are here as H
missionaries, every one of us with a H
commission and trust as definite as Hj
the one who is sent to the heathen
lands. Let us find our work and,
"whatsoever our hand findeth to d9,t^l
io it with our might." Our Lord will
soon return and each one ol us must
render an account. How have we n
used our talents? Can we say we
bate done our best? Remember; we H
cannot deceive God.?V. G. Plymlr%?,
No Smoking on the Campus. ''H
The use of tobacco is to be fof- H
bidden on the campus of the Universitv
of Wisconsin. The regents H
at a meeting instructed the facultn^|
to put into effect a rule against smok-^B
ing or the use of the weed in any>>H
form in any of the college buildings H
n" inrie Thp rpsrpnts also
u: VXl LUC ftlUUHU'J. * -CJ"
ordered that student publications
henceforth bar all advertisements or B
liquors or saloons. The regents voted_B
enough money to recompense the stt?"^B
dents for the loss under contracts H
now to be forfeited.: -?-l H