The Abbeville press and banner. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, October 23, 1907, Image 2
,v.- -<-- .
.
, r^252S=SESHSS5HSZEHSHSa5EJ
:,|(V ^hgeM
1 K I RV
! |j^ '' ' By MRS. /
CHAPTER IV. (/
Continued.
"I have not had a good time of it
.since you were away, Glynn. 1 have
ibeen on the brink of ruin through the
treachery of a man I thought a friend.
But I hope to get over it. I think
I'll get over it, and whatever happens
Elsie's little fortune is out of harm's
iway. I made sure of that. She need
never starve."
"Very prudent ana proper, returned
Glynn. "But I earnestly hope
you will escape the loss you mention.
(Been bitten by a bubble company?"
"No! It's a long story; I'll tell it
:to you some day, and you'll judge
ior yourself; but not now, not now.
kAh! you are a bright chap. Glynn,
strong and steady. If you had a little
capital, now, you'd get along first
rate."
Glynn did not answer his conjectures
as to his (Glynn's) financial position;
he felt terribly disappointed
.that Lambert had made no confession
of tangible difficulties, and yet he
was brimful of some trsuble which
he could not bring himself to confess.
At dinner, some hours later, he either
was more cheerful or assumed
a livelier aspect for his daughter's
benefit. She seemed to accept the
improvement as real, and the evening
went quickly. With the help of music
and conversation Lambert toward
the end seemed to forget his troubles
and was more like himself. At parting
Elsie gave Glynn an eloquent
glance expressive of thanks, of mutual
understanding, which sent him
away charmed, restless?longing for
their next interview, yet full of dread j
for the future.
The next day as he was leaving |
lis
hotel he ran against Deering, who
.was coming in. "I am off to Vichy
to-day," he said. "I thought I should
Cjust let you know. I ought to have
gone a week ago, but I met some people
that amused me; Lady Harriet
Beauchamp and Wedderburn ? you
know them, I suppose? Shall I find
"V; you here when I return?"
"That depends upon the length of
your visit."
"Oh, about a fortnight."
"I shall hardly stay so long."
"Good-bye, then. Don't forget
Denham in August. Lady Frances
,-will be delighted to see you."
The very atmosphere seemed lighter
and brighter to Glynn when Deering
was safe away. Lambert was
visibly relieved, and his daughter reflected
her father's mood.
These were delightful days. The
quiet harmony of the present made
Glynn regardless of the future.
There were moments when his hesitation
disappeared, and Glynn was
almost resolved to make Elsie his
.wife if she would have him; but that
.vague cloud of mystery was a bad accompaniment
for married life.
It was about ten days after Glynn's
return, and he was debating in his
J-J n nr? O /I TH CO
OWH U11UU LUC JJl UUCUV.C auu uu<;uu
bility of a retreat while lie had still
some command of his own will. Dinner
was over in Lambert's pretty
salle a manger. Elsie hal left her
father and his friend to talk and
smoke for the lazy, comfortable half
lour which succeeds the evening
meal.
"Miss Lambert is looking quite
hersalf again," said Glynn, his imagination
too full of her to resist
speech.
"She is," returned her father.
4'That is because I am brighter; but
- *1 am not out of the wood yet?not
v ' yet." He was silent for a moment or
two, puffing vigorously while he
thought. "Ay!?many an anxious
thought she costs me. I'd give a
good deal?all I possess, life itself,
to know she was safe and in better
lands than mine. Glynn, I am going
to prove the confidence I have in
you. We are men of the world, and
can talk to each other without fear
of misunderstanding."
"It's ' coming at last," thought
Glynn. "You may be sure that anything
you like to tell is safe with
me," he said aloud.
"I know it." He rose, lifted the curtain
which hung across the doorway
leading to Elsie's little study, asViiTncolf
if- rtrnc iinn/>f>unfpfl and
the outer door shut. Then he resumed
his seat, and placing his arms
on the table leaned toward Glynn, and
began in a low voice, which, as he
plunged deeper into his subject, grew
clearer and louder. "Look here, now,
1 don't see why, when I am in Rome,
I shouldn't do as Rome does. I know
you'll meet me in my own spirit. If
' you like what I am going to propose,
/well and good; if not, there's no
narm done. First of all I suppose
'I am right in concluding you are not
taarried?that you are free and independent?"
"I am," said Glynn, greatly surprised.
"Then what do you say to settling
yourself? You are old enough. You
are six or seven ana miriy, i guess.
l\Tow, If you are so disposed, I'd die
r .happy if I saw you married to my
Elsie."
' Glynn started at this bold proposition;
yet gazing at the eager eyes,
(the earnest face, the slight nervous
twitch in the lips -which had just uttered
it, he felt strangely moved.
"Don't answer all at once," continued
Lambert; "I calculate there's
a goodish bit more to be said on the
subject. I know this sort of thing
isn't our fashion, but I am too uneasy
about?ah! about the future, to
wait for the chance of my jewel meeting
the right man, and life is uncertain?mine
especially. I wouldn't
give lier to you empty nauueu, i
either." ]
"Why, Lambeut, you tal:e" my j
breath away! In the first place, f j
don't fancy Miss I.ambert ever wast- j
cd a thought on m?. excs-Ji as to how j
far I might be of use to you."
< "I know that; 1 am sure of it. Jf J
* ,
i& *
lk ..i.e..,,-, ^ - ,,
* n *' r! '. "T
? /
5HSZSHS2S?5Zr?HE=rH5H5HS^r!
"' - ^k
AABAff AAfln * Lri
.ambert |
Mystery? I
ALEXANDER. " -?I
?5HS252SESH5ESS5ESH5H52^J
I thought she was in love with you
I don't think I could speak out lik
this. No, love hacn't come into hei
heart yet, and you are too much a
high-minded gentleman to try and
rouse it; but she could love well;
and look here, I have saved up and
invested nearly five thousand pounds
?I'll make it five full?that would
be a nice lift to whatever business
you are in. You see how I trust you
I don't care if you have a struggle;
Elsie is no foolish, extravagant doll.'
"Pray hear me," interrupted Glynn
with difficulty; "so charming a crea
ture as your daughter wants no make
weight to recommend her; she would
be a treasure in herself to any mac
of taste and feeling. But I do not
wish or intend to marry for a considerable
time to come," he continued,
with increasing firmness, quite determined
not to yield to the suggestion
of another what he denied to the passionate
craving of his own heart. "As
you say, we are men of the world
and can discuss such a question coolly
and fairly without, on my part
the smallest infringement of the
warm respect and regard I feel foi
Miss Lambert. There are circumstances?reasons
on which it is unnecessary
to dilate?which forbid mj
entertaining your flattering and attractive
proposition."
"Suppose I guess what they are,"
said Lambert, eagerly rolling up a
cigarette, and scattering his shreds ol
tobacco as he did so. "You're a bit
of a swell, I calculate; you are
among a desperate set of respectable
city bosses. Hear me now; I'm not
thin skinned. I know I'm not the
sort that would go down with them,
and you know I was a queer lot once.
Well, if you take my Elsie, I'll go
right away; I'll never ask to trouble
you or her. What matter what becomes
of me if she is safe??oh, God!
safe with an honorable, kind man,
who would give her a peaceful home.
Ay, Elsie, I love you well enough
never to see your sweet face if 1
could earn peace and security for
you!"
"And do you think she would love
a husband who could part her from
such a father as you are?" asked
Glynn, deeply touched.
"But she should never know,"
eagerly; "I'd just go away on business,
and stay away, and she'd forget;
she would always have a kind
thought for me, but the new love
would fill her heart; and if you tried
to win her she'd love you, I am sure
she would! Now, can't it be, Glynn?
?can't it?"
"No. It is with deepest reluctance
I say it. If I can in any way serve
\rr\vi r\r? Vinommanri mo* "hut" linfnr
V/X UVi, AA-lN, , ~ ^ w
tunately for myself this caDnot.be."
There was a short expressive silence;
then Lambert said, in an altered
tone: "Anyhow, there is no
harm done; I am sure you've some
good reason, and we'll cot be the
worse friends because we can be
nothing nearer." i
"Certainly not; and for my part I
have a higher esteem for you than I
ever had before; I trust, however,
that you have no serious cause for
uneasiness about your daughter. If
her little fortune is secured, these
are too nrosaic times for darine and
villainous lovers, murderous conspirators,
or other dramatic dangersj"
"Ay, civilization is just deep
enough to hide the devils that -work
underneath it. I had one or two
things to tell a son-in-law that, maybe,
I had better keep to myself now."
"I sincerely hope that you will not
look on me as the less warm a friend
because I cannot unfortunately fall
in with your views; you do not wish
me to absent myself?"
"Far from it," interrupted Lambert.
"Be true to me?be true to
her; maybe by and by you'll have a
good wife that might befriend my
girl; she has no one in the world belonging
to her but myself, and I begin
to fear I am a broken reed." *
"My marriage is a remote contingency,"
said Glynn. "Were you in
London, I could introduce Miss Lambert
to a somewhat peculiar but kindhparted
woman, a connection of mine.
who would most probably be interested
in her?I was going to say
charmed with her, only it is hard tc
answer for the impression one woman
may make upon another."
"Everything is hard," remarked
Lambert moodily, as if to himself.
"Well, let us forget this fruitless
palaver, and be as we were. I am
quite sure you are ready to do me a
good turn if you can?if?Ah! 1
hear Elsie singing. Come along, let
us forget our troubles for a bit over
a game of baccarat."
But Glynn did not attend to his
cards, his head was in a wbirl. He
was infinitely touched by the unconsciousness
of the songstress, who received
tbem with the soft composure
peculiar to her, which had in it sc
much womanly dignity. How littU
she dreamed that the man whe
4-1-t %.;ilsw1 ~n>K/N /1..nnU if
i uuucu cll uir; ijuuii, w 11 u ui aiiiv zu
the tones of her voice greedily, had
infused to share his life with her?
had rejected the chance of winning
her, for Glynn acknowledged there
was a "con" as well as a "pro" ir
the case. He had survived the age al
which men think they have but tc
ask and they must receive.
"Oh, Mr. Glynn," said Elsie, suddenly
turning to him, "Madame Daviziers
begs you to take a ticket foi
a ball which is to be given at th<
Louvre Hotel, for Iho benefit of ar
orphanage under the direction of Sis
ters of St. Vincent do Paul. Madame
is one of the committee."
"I shall bo veiy happy. Are you
rriinr
"Yes, that is. if my father car
j spare me." Slio rose as she spok(
aiul turned toward Lambert., who was
sitting in an altitude of deep dejec
tion, his cards lying oil the table be
bide him.
... 'Dearest." said Elsie, stealing tc
r , : 7? I '
his side, and laying her cool whito
hand on his brow, "does your head
ache?"
"No, no, not much;" then with a
sudden impulse, "you love your dad-,
then, though he is a rugged old
cuss?"
Elsie smiled, an exquisitely tender
smile. "So well, that nothing and
no one could make up for the want
of him." '
Glynn was struck with her words.
Could she by any possibility have
overheard her father's proposal, and
Bis refusal? Such an idea was ap
palling. Eut no, it was quite impos1
sible.
CHAPTER V.
L
[ Vanished.
Glynn, was far from being satisfied
[ with his own decision. Elsie's face,
i her eyes, the quiet grace of her figure
[ and movements, were perpetually bej
fore him. If Elsie loved him, then
. he would dare all things; but she did
not. It would be better for her, as
' well as for him, to leave her in the
i tranquility of indifference than to
. awaken an interest that could only
> lead to trouble; So as it was Friday,
[ Glynn determined to go Madame Da[
villiers' in the evening, for the result
; of his wise cogitations was a burning
.. desire to meet Miss Lambert to as,
sure himself of her indifference.
Elsie greeted him with a bright,
[ amused smile, as though his presence
- suggested some droll idea.
; "I don't see your father here to,
night," said Glynn.
"He has been called rather suddenly
to Dunkerque," she replied,
s "but will return on Monday. He
seemed in better spirits, and I think
. the change will do him good."
"I -tope so, especially as you reflect
' his moods. Yop are looking more
. like yourself than when I first returned."
. . ,
"Ah, I was very miserable then,
i But one reason why I feel so much
brighter is that my father has prom;
issd I shall go for a few months to
. Mrs. Kellett, to my old home, Woodi
burn, and then we shall give up our
; etage here."
i "And how will you bear the seclu,
sion?the change from Parisian gay,
eties?" looking earnestly into her
i eyes, and wondering what motive un.
derlay this sudden change.
"I shall like it very much; I should
like anything that would secure
peace."
Then he felt obliged to offer his
t congratulations to Mademoiselle An;
toinette, after which M. Le Vicomte
was introduced, and it seemed to him
that half the evening was over before
. he managed to return to Elsie.
"Are you going to sing to-night?"
"No; these gentlemen and Madame
d'ltalia will give us far better
music than I can."
"Not in my opinion; your singing
goes straight to my heart."
Elsie smiled and looked at her fan,
i Glynn felt almost irresistibly impelled
to tell her how charming she
was, but'he did resist.
"I suppose I must not call while
your father is absent," he resumed;
. '"and I have found some delightful
volumes in Tauchnitz, which I should
like to give^you."
"Can you not send them?" she
asked, looking at him with laughing
eyes. "I want books very much; no
i one gives me books but you."
i "Then I must bring them myself."
i "Why not? I shall be very glad
i to see you; so will Madame Weber."
"Thank you! May I come to-mor
row?"
"To-morrow? No; to-morrow I go
witli Antoinette to visit tue good ladies
able to tell me when we can go
' to England."
"But you will return to Paris?"
"I do not know; nothing is certain."
"I hope you will promise certainly
to dance with me at this hall."
"Shall you be here when it takes
i place?" '
"Yes, certainly; nothing shall prevent
me from being,present."
A faint color flickered over Elsie's
cheek, as if this resolution implied
a personal compliment, and an
. amused smile parted her lips.
"Then you like dancing?"
.! "That depends. At any rate I
i want to dance the first dance witb
you at your first ball."
Elsie laughed. "Very good."
"And I suppose you are fond oi
dancing?"
"I love it," earnestly.
"Does your friend Vincent dance
well?"
To be Continued.
Claim China's Throne.
A Manchu Banner woman, married
to an English officer of Gordon's
army, which suppressed the Taiping
rebellion, announced anonymously today
that she has made claim to the
throne of China.
Unwilling to make public her name
lest relatives be assassinated in Pekin
she has sent petitions to the
British Government asking that her
L claim be taken up with China.
; She says she is a direct lineal descendant
of the third Duke of Chou,
and as such asserts that her right l*>
| the throne of China is prior to that of
! the Empress Dowager.
With her husband and family she
has been living in Victoria for twen!
ty-one years, since they came from
' Pekin, where is still living a younger
! brother, who, she says, is next in line
' to herself to China's throne.?Vic'
toria (B. C.) Dispatch to the Ne\t
1 York World.
Biggest American Flag.
i A tourist has been looking for the
; big flag which Maitch Chunk folk cel>
oiuated the Fourth of July with several
years ago. "It was," he said*
. "the bigger.t American Hag ever un
. furled, its dimensions being tiuy uy
250 feet. A wire cable was stretched
> from the lop of Flagstaff mountain
! to the top of Dear mountain, aud the
. great bit of hunting was swung about
? the centre, right over the middle of
i the valley. The air currents aro
i ! tempestuous there in the evcuing,
J and whenever the sun went down the
t ! t!ug was ripped from its fastenings."
?I ?New Yon: Press. ,
- ! More ih?.n forty per ccnt. of tho
- deaths in Moscow are of infants under
a year old. In London the por>
j ceutage is twenty-four and one-half.
" : "* " ' .
ji^^HOUSEHOLD E?
%W 5WW>\
Savory Stews.
It would be hard to find for a
i a inn j uiuuei <% utrLitii ui iiiuie ti uijr
jconomical dish than a good, rich
stew. It allows the use of those exirjllent
but not h:igh priced cuts of
meat which give the most real food
value for the money. It encourages
the use of many of those wholesome
vegetables which udd both bulk and
important elements of nutrition as
well as appetizing flavors. The various
cereal adjuncts for thickening
may be combined with it at will.
Finally, the skill of the cook is the
only limit to its possible variation,
since every kind of meat has its use
in this form and the combinations
are endless.
The rich broth that accompanies
a stew of this sort is in itself one of
the best of foods for both old and
young. Served all together in a tuI
reen, as a kind of hodge-podge o*.
I ? 4. A iAl.l Sf _
iut:ctu ctiiu vegeiauiuo, it manes a
hearty and satisfying dinner, bo savory
as to please even the gourmand,
though somewhat Bohemian in form.
Or the meat may be dished on a
large platter and the vegetables arranged
around it, the broth strained
off in a, gravy-boat and offered separately.
Mutton Stew?The neck, shoulder
and loin of lamb or mutton?it is all
lamb with some market-men?are
good pieces to serve in a stew. Trim
the meat so as to make a few shapely
cutlets if desired to serve in meat
form on a platter. Cut the trimmings
in bits, removing any excess of
fat. For three pounds of meat, prepare
three pints of vegetables cut
neatly Jn cub as or small slices; one
onion, tw?? carrots, two parsnips, one
turnip, gives a good proportion. A
little celery, parsley or celeriac may
be added if convenient. Place in a
large stewpan with water to cover
and bring gradually to a boil. Set
where it will simmer gently and
cook for two hours or more. Season
when partly cooked with salt, cayenne,
and a bunch of sweet herbs.
Pearl barley makes a nice thickening
with mutton and if this Is liked add
abput half a cupful. Sago or rice
may b6 substituted. Or a slight
thickening with flour and butter
rubbed together as for making a
sauce is always available for a stew.
A cup of sweet cream added just
before taking up is an Improvement
to almost all mixed dishes of this
class. Mutton must be served very
hot on hot plates.
Spaghetti Stew With Chicken?
This is a good way to serve the second
day what remains of a pair of
. roast fowls. Cut' the meat neatly
from the bones and put the carcass
over, with water to cover. Add a
shaved onion, two or' three cloves,
a pint of canned tomatoes and a seasoning
of salt, cayenne and fine
herbs, with any gravy or stuffing
from the chickens. Simmer for twe
hours. Strain off the broth and add
to it the meat and a cupful of spaghetti
broken in inch lengths. Simmer
about half an hour and serve
very hot. Cream improves it.
Gulash?A good piece of the round
or almost any cut of solid, lean beef,
is suitable for this dish of SpanishAmerican
origin. Cut the meat iE
neat strips not more than three inches
long. Chop fine an onion,- a
carrot, and a green sweet pepper, 01
jts equivalent in dried red pepper,
T)n^ aita? rrr 1 f frtlir nftimHc
of meat, covered with water, or for a
richer dish, with soup stock. Simmei
gently for two hours. Have ready a
quart of beans?if hi water, the dried
California limas are a good choice,
previously soaked over night in cold
water. Add the beans and simmei
for another hour, salting to taste
when nearly done. Dish the meal
in the centre of a large platter with
the beans around It. Thicken the
gravy slightly with a tablespoonful
of flour rubbed up with butter, lei
it boil up well and pour over the
meat.
Veal Stew?Brown in a little butter
three pounds of veal cutlets
neatly trimmed, adding the scraps
from trimming and two or three
slices of bacon. Put in a saucepar
with a shaved onion, haif a dozer
carrots in thin slices, and a bunch ol
sweet herbs, E.nd cover with water
Simmer gently for two hours, sea
soning with salt and pepper towarc
the last. Thicken the gravy with i
little browned flour and a flavoring
of tomato catsup goes well with the
veal. Serve in a gravy boat.
Mutton With Peas?Dried or splil
peas make one of the heartiest cheai
foods at this season. They may be
served in a very appetizing forir
cooked with lamb or muttou. Boi
j ,>he peas, first soaked over-night
with two or three slices of gooc
bacon, until they break readily, anc
put them through a vegetable press
Simmer a neck of lamb, cut in foui
pieces, with an onion, a carrot, and ?
turnip all cut fine, until well cooked
Add the pulp of peas to this stock
with a generous lump of buttei
rolled in flour, salt and cayenne tc
season, and dish all together.?Doro
thy,?in the Country Gentleman.
itUSEs; FQfeuI'fTOOS
E'K E ERERs1
Salt will remove a fresh ink staii
from a carpet.
Two tablespoonfuls equal om
liquid ounce.
Sprinkle hellebore on the floor al
night to destroy cockroaches.
Fish is very unwholesome wher
not well cooked, as well as unpalatable.
A pot roast takes on quite a new
flavor if a pound of prunes is stewec
with it.
When making meringue use gran
ulated sugar in preference to powdered
sugar.
If you wish an unusual accompaniment
for boiled ham, serve it witfc
orange marmalade.
If feather pillows have an unpleasant
odor give them a thorough drying
before a clear fire.
/ . f
THE SUNDAY SCHOOL.
i INTERNATIONAL LESSON COMMENTS
FOR OCT. 13 BY THE
REV. I. W. HENDERSON.
Subject: Israel Enters the Land of
Promise, Josh. 3:5-17-^-GoIden
Text, Ps. 107:7?Memory Verse,
17?Commentary.
?
In accordance witn tne promise ui
God, Israel enters the land of promise.
Under the direct and marvelous
manifestation of God's providence
they cross the Jordan and stand
within sight of the walls of Jericho.
Joshua's words, as given in the
i fifth verse of our lesson, compel our
attention. "Sanctify yourselves, for
, to-morrow the Lord will do wonders
among you." It is a call to consecration
because God is to work wonders
among them and because God
| will not manifest Himself, and can'
not, except they are prepared.
. / The dedication of themselves was
followed as we see by a transcendant
1 manifestation of the providence and
potency of God. The rite of sanctifi'
cation was fitting.
Israel was upon the threshold of
a new experience. She was about to
enter into a new life. The hopes of
generations, the promises of' centuries
were about to be consummated.
It was a solemn time. The day was
momentous. History was in the making.
Joshua was aware of it. The
wandering multitude must have been
impressed by it. A new epoch was
about to Degin. a nation was cuui1
ing to its own. To-day, the wilderi
ness, its memories, its hardships, its
discouragements, the vision of a
; promised inheritance! To-morrow,
Jordan passed, hopes realized, prom,
ises fulfilled, memories translated into
hopes. It was a mighty moment.
It was proper that they should be
peculiarly prepared. It was right
! that they should be impressed by th&
i greatness of the occasion. The event
was too tremendous not to be solemnized
and signalized by a special
ceremony. The God who had led
them so far, so patiently, so decisively,
was entitled to the dedication and
the thanks of all Israel. They had
to consecrate themselves because
God was about to exalt them, because
- the manifestation of Jehovah's power
was impossible without their submission
entirely to His will.
So it has ever been. So will it
ever be. No man and no nation has
1 enjoyed the revelation of the pleni;
tude of the power of God except the
' individual or national will has been
, ' subordinated to the dictates of Divinity.
And no person or people willever
experience a satisfactory knowledge
of the inspiring providence of
God except the personal or popular
volition be subjected to the mandates i
of the mind of God. Whenever and
wherever persons or peoples sanctify
themselves before God, acknowledging
their indebtedness to Him, recog>
nizing their obligations under Him,
pledging their faith in undivided loyalty
to Him, then and there God has
1 ever manifested Himself and done
- . wonders. And what time men or nations
in future determine to thank
God and to hail Him and to serve
? Him then will Jehovah manifest Him,
self mightily. Israel has proved it.
I America has proved it. It is to be
, hoped that America will demonstrate
the truth again.
" For along the highway of human
progress America,has traveled under
1 the espionage of God to national
greatness. We have triumphed over
I difficulties and been victorious over*'
, oppositions and gone through dis:resses
and afflictions and despair.
! We are now upon the border of a
iarger progress and of an increased J
national prestige. No man of vision
1 ;an fail to discern in the signs of the
1 iimes limitless opportunities for the
ievelopment of our national re
! 30urces in money and men, in influ,
jnce and character. The achievements
of America of to-day\ are but I
slight adumbrations of the glories j
' that may be hers in coming years if
1 ihe will, as she stands on the thres
hold of nobler things, sanctify her\
self in spirit and in truth.
We cannot be fit for larger usefuji
ness except we are right with- God
and dedicated to Him. Jehovah cannot
utilize us more until we subject
1 ourselves to Him.
1 In order that we shall be ready for I
1 service and prepared for the furtherI
ance of the projects of the Almighty
t as they concern America we must
pay heed to the command of Jos'?ua
to Israel as given in the ninth verse
of the lesson we are studying:
' "Come hither and hear the words of
the Lord your God." For we cannot
! build without plans and specifications
' - 1 ! J J 4.U ? 4.
' ci UUIiUlIl^ LUttV. snail UC Uiliauic auu ,
i beautiful. We cannot do God's work
r until we hear God's message. To
serve efficiently we must hear the
| captain's orders. If we would labor
for God we must listen to God.
Much of the leadership of America
1 listens little to God. In the measure
! that we have a leadership that is
i deaf to divine directions, we are misled,
we are handicaped. For prot
gress is only, possible when we are in
harmony with the will of God. We
cannot know God's mind except we
! listen to God's voice.
1 The task that God has delivered to
i America, the future that He has pre,
pared for her, is too great to be ac|
complished without His inspiration,
i His direction. His sustentation.
America's future is cut after a divine
' pattern. Only Divinity can effect -its
[ realization. Only that humanity that
' is surcharged with divinity will ever
enjoy the vision of it. Let us.there,
fore listen to the word of the Lord
our God and with sanctified souls go
) on and up until this land shall be indeed
God's country and the future of
our fatherland shall be secured.
Shoe Arbiters Decree Tans.
I Men and women who keep pace
with the fashion will wear only tan
footwear next spring. There will be
a great variance of shades to select
from, however, anything from cream
, verging on white to a russet that is
near black being permissible. Such
j was the decision of the experts, who
concluded the business of the third
annual fair of the shoe and leather
' market at Chicago. They also decreed
that none of the freak lasts
^ would be in favor. Only the "foot
shape," or "old comfort," lasts will
be in favor, say the shoe men.
i
Loan For Italian City.
United States Vice-Consul Ernest
r Santi, of Milan, Italy, reports that
I the city government has voted to obtain
a loan of $13,510,000, at four
per cent, interest, to be liquidated
within fifty years. The money is to
' be used in making municipal improvements,
such a.3 building sewers,
. public baths, tramways, electrical
t plant and new streets.
Death From Plague.
Over 5,000,000 persons have sue
curnbed in India to the plague since
1 1898. .
j
'. IIP
Religious Reading
FOR TIIE QUIET IT OUR.
C?>
BABEL.
In rears of old vain builders wrought
An impious tower to Heaven;
The godless effort came to naught,
Ana was in ruin riven;
God set confusion on their daring scheme,
And Babel was of vanity a dream.
And thus, through all ensuing time,
When hearts of hatred plan ,
To rear against God's will sublime
Some weak device of man,
He writeth "Babel" on their ladder's
rungs.
And dies their scheming 'mid a strife of
tongues.
?Donald A. Eraser, in Home Herald.
ine ltiuimry 01 iu-uu.f.
The city full of idols.?Acts, xvii.,
16.
As we read the story of Paul's experiences
in ancient Athens we may
observe a striking resemblance to
spiritual conditions in modern New
York.
This is a city of great culture. It
is rapidly becoming the foremost
educational centre of the world. But
Athens teaches us that It is not the
ignorant alone who worship idols.
What is idolatry? It is "any worship
that stops shortof the Supreme,"
says the dictionary. An idol is "anything
upon "which the affections are
inordinately set." And with such a
definition is there r.ny idolatry in
New York to-day? Yes; we must
confess that America's besetting sin
is the worship of the idols of fortune,
riches, money, treasure; and
there'are multitudes who are striving
. harder to gain success in the business
world than to fit themselves for
the Kingdom of Heaven; who are
sacrificing their immortal souls for
the sake of worldly success; who
have forgotten the command of our
Lord, "Lay up for yoifrselves treasures
in Heaven."
It is a statement which I think
cannot too often be brought to our
attention that in this city there are
more than a million people who are
Christian and Protestant in their
training and belief but who here have
no church connection and feel no
responsibilities in Christian service.
And of these many have been led
away, often unconsciously and unintentionally,
by the dangerous, fascinating
idolatry of gold.
But there is another idol which
finds many thousands of ardent worshipers
in our land, and especially in
this great city?the idol of pleasure.
Pleasure\ in itself is not wrong, and
there is nothing sinful in the desire
to be happy. God wants His children
to be happy. But pleasure becomes
an idol, and becomes sinful, no matter
how innocent it is in itself when
it supercedes God in the heart's affections,
when it becomes the su
I preme thing in life, when it inter[
feres with the duties we owe to God.'1
There is one more idol I will mention,
the idol of sinful self-indul-.
gence, which destroys many a life
and damns many a soul. Do you
realize how many are being led away
from the worship of God and the hope
cf Heaven, because they have allowed
some evil habit or appetite or passion
to become supreme in their
lives?
Ours are not idols that can be seen,
but this city is full of them, nevertheless,
and worse still,, our hearts
are full of them. And they are not
like the idols of which the Psalmist
speaks, for they have mouths and
can speak, and they call us to their
worship with alluring and seductive
voice, and they are grasping many a
soul in the fatal grip of death.
When Paul beheld the city of Athens
full of idols his heart was stirred
with compassion and righteous in
digqation ana an intense aesire iu uu
something to overcome the idolatrous
tendencies of that age and city?to'
bring the people to a true knowledge
of Jesus Christ and His salvation.
And, my friends, as we look
out upon this fair city and see the
idolatrous tendencies that are here,
see the thousands who know little or
nothing of God, see the thousands
[ who are destroying their souls by
j their sins, the same feelings that
arose in Paul's heart must be aroused
in ours; we must be stirred and inspired
to do something to save men
from the idols which destroy the
soul; we must strive to bring them
to a knowledge of the One who
saves.?Rev. John Lyon Caughey,
Harlem Presbyterian Church, New
York City, in the Sunday Herald.
The Offer of the College.
To be at home in all lands and all
ages; to count nature a familiar acj
quaintance and art an intimate
i friend; to gain a standard for the ap
preciation of other men's work and
ihe criticism of your own; to carry
the keys of the world's library in your
pocket, and feel its resources behind
you in whatever task you undertake;
to make hosts of friends among the
men of your own age who are to be
leaders in all walks of life; to lose
yourself in generous enthusiasms and
co-operate with others for common
ends; to learn manners from students
who are gentlemen, and form characters
under professors who are Christians?this
is the offer of the college
for the best four years of your life.?
William De Witt Hyde.
Unostentatious Heroisms.
We shall find some of thesubllmest
fruits of faith among what are
commonly called -passive virtues" *
? * in the ostentatious heroisms of
the household, amid the daily drippings
of small cares; in the noiseless
conquests of a love too reverential
to complain; in resting in the Lord
j and waiting patiently for Him.?
| Eishop Huntington.
The Vessel in the Rough.
I What a wise and good world it has
been for the sou! we shall only know
I on the other side, when we have the
i after look and God's plan is accomplished.
Here we are looking at the
J vessel in the rough, there we shall
see it when the potter has perfected
the work of 1-Iis hands.?Dr. John
j Watson.
Christianity in Character.
Christianity is good character exi
pressed in conduct.
Concrete Telegraph Poles.
W. D. Boyce. the publisher, is con
I ducting experiments lor telegrapn
| poles made of concrete, at Bloomington,
111. He is planning to build an
| electric power lino between Marj
settles and Peru via Joliet. He will
; erect during the coming season a line
j of concrete poles between Marseilles
I and Ottawa and await the result of
the winter's action upon them. If
the use of concrete for telegraph, telephone
and electric light and power
' poles proves a success, it will mean
1 the end of the wooden pole, as it is
j asserted that the concrete poles will
i cost less and .will last twice as long.
? ; .. j / , v - *.
<
THE GREAT DESTROYER
-
SOME STARTLING FACTS ABOUT
THE VICE OF INTEMPERANCE.
, ' f
Abstain From Intoxicants For the, . >,
Sake of Your Neighbor, and Sif5
Means For Your Wife and Chil- <i
dren's Sake, Also. y' Vy, '<a i
We should abstain for our neigh-^
bor's sake and for our own, but first ,
and most of all for God's sake, for.
the two great commandments, which
are rvaiiy uiret1, <:uu?uiute ouc our.vpreme
charter of temperance Work. '
Will any one dare to say he can drink
intoxicating poison as a beverage'to*?
the glory of God? But we are eacte^
under orders to "do all for the glory;
of God." Does any on& question
whether if all use of intoxicating*. .
beverages was abolished religion' j
would be stronger and sins fewer?/,
If that is the case, ours is "a total
abstinence religion." Surely no one
can love God supremely, and at the
same time help by buying or 8fllln?/
intoxicating beverages tfr- keep men; from
God, or draw men from Godt
Abstain for the sake of your neighbor.
That means, first of all,'for the^
saice or your own wire ana cmiareiu, ,
There is a story told of a farmer^
wife who went to meet her husband
in the dusk at. an appointed fen<&
corner, and seeing what she took: to.^
be her husband on the other sidft
of the fence, handed her baby-to a
bear, which swiftly bore it away to
the mountains never to be seen again.
That man hands his chili over to ?
more cruel beast, who, by his drink- . '
ing example, leads his child to be^- . '
come a drunkard.
Many years ago there resided itt
Manchester, England, a young calico-. '
printer, a capital worker, and a most
obliging man, but unhappily addicted
to drink. John, however,,got married,
much to the thankfulness of htec'
friends, who hoped that through hi?.
young wife he might reform. Shortly
after their wedding John said toMary:
"You're a sober woman, and
so I mean to be a sober man; wetnusi
agree to take no more, each ot
us, inan one pini 01 aie per uajr.
With a serious face Mary queried.
gently: "Where isliall you drink itr >
John? Except Sundays, you don'tf J
return home till late." "Of'course In- 1
the factory?for your share, I will
give you six cents a day, and you
can drink it where you / please, "V1
Months elapsed, during which Johtt^ '
was unable to limit himself to .Mfc
"one pint." At length car^e round
the young, couple's marriage analog
vereary. "Now, my-dear, we've not
had a single holiday since we wer*
wed; let us have one to-day!" "With
all my heart, girl!" he responded; V;4;
"and if only I had a spare shilling
or two in the world?that, public^' house
Is ruining me, to he plain*
wifle?we might take a jaunt to the
village, and see your mother." "I
will stand treat, John," 'said Mary- ;
"You! you!" cried tfoe amazed bus- .
iband; "have you got a windfall of a
fortune, and I never heard of It?"'
"I have just had the money /for mjr .
pint of beer," smiled Mary, Joyfully.
"Your what?" "My tfint of beer,"
she repeated, producing an old stock-'
ing which had served for. purse, andv 1
from which immediately clinked out*
upon tho tablecloth three hundred
coins. "And you have not once tasfecF
it, Mary!" he stuttered/with, a flood
of tears; "then I never., never will
again." "By God's grace, dear John,T' -
added tne young wire souiy nor sue
wa$ a true Christian), and gathering
up the stocking's contents, she handed
him $21.90. A memorable day it ,
proved, indeed, the day which fixed
the turning-point of John's hithertc .
wasted life. "By God's grace" he di#
most faithfully keep his vow and ht
prospered.
Danger From Alcohol in Illness. , .
A writer in Health calls attention* J
to the fact that people when suddenly 1
called on to look after a person in
jured by accident, or in a sudden at* ;
tack of illness, would in the majorityof
cases as a first thing administer '
some form of alcohol. It is' not that
those who administer this supposed
remedy do it from any knowledge
they possess that the remedy will be
suited to the case. They simply do
it to satisfy their own anxieties, and
this shows how deeply ingrained intcour
natures the belief in alcohol has
become, and how hard it is to uproot
a practice, the result of ages of
growth. In a majtfHty of cases the
yamativ dues mnpfl harm than ?OQ<L
Alcohol ignorantly admistered1 caninjure
a sick person more than &
healthy one. ? Prohibition Yeai
Book. .
- v 'J
Fortune to Reclaim Drunkards.
From La Salle, Illinois, coin'e .par
ticulars of an extraordinary* willVleft
by Mr. G. B. Schlenk, a wealthj
brewer, who recently died. The doc- '
ument states that the deceased brewei
had long been consoious of the eyi*
caused by drink, and was -desiroas,
therefore, of remedying some of the n.-mnc
u/hi^h fparfid had bees
caused by his enterprises. It' it
therefore directed that his wife andfamily
shall have a bare competence,
and his large fortune shall go to the '
Salvation Army, for use in their work,
of reclaiming drunkards. The fam-,
Uy intend to contest the will.
No Tickets to Drunkards.
The Pennsylvania Railroad lines*,
have recently adopted a rule not to
sell tickets to drunken persona. Murders
have resulted on several trains
from their presence, and in some
cases companies have been assessed
heavy damages for assaults committed
by 'drunkards in passengoi
cars. For this reason the Pennsylvania
system has barred them out of
her trains.
Temperancc Notes.
" * * ' - 1 * ? w/Jhv ^
inaiana is aooui iwu-iuuua ui;.
It is estimated that half a million
persons in Paris do not drink wine.
Washington reports a promising
movement in high society against
wine and the time-honored punchbowl.
There has been a decline of nearlj
2,500,000 barrels of besr in the annual
consumption of the United Kingdom
during the past six years, notwithstanding
that the population increased
by 2,000,000.
iuwa has really State prohibition,
but selling is permitted by popular
consent under the Mulct law in twenty-three
counties out of ninety-nine,
and in eleven towns iu the remaining
seventy-six counties.
i'"1""' " Hio tvmofnm nf (iPeTV
UiJIcoo AC uv VUW *~>J .
seated nervous disease, drunkenness
can be cured by the exercise of tht
will, whenever the desire to be cured
Is awakened by the consciousness tbat ' >
the vice is in itself disgusting.
Less than 300,000 people in the
Transvaal consumed 418,625 gallons
of ale and beer last year. And the j
Troy Press remarks: "Slowly but
surely *ven Darkest Africa ascends
4 ^nf rtivi1i7Qtinn '' i
tuu vx v.* *
.V
'
- ^
?, . . .. - .> r.v > : ,-^M