University of South Carolina Libraries
^ [ESE5a5H55H5H5H5E5EEH5H= 9 525BHaS2SHSH^gSH5ESHSHf jpONlTHI O ScQjiS^^ v. o IHliiflfisHSHSEsas^^' A 53SaS25SSHS^ffiSaS2^rH? 9 ?? TRACED I BY f ; V S gL!n rJ-c?g?3 cLrTEij dJa d-h cLb ciHHb c?E 0 5cL5REH5cl5H5^SHSHEHSHSH^ $ USHEES^ By ici LADY SH M/ 9 EHSH5HSHSHSHEHF5SH5HHSE ^ 3a55SHfrgSHHHgaH?9?.5H5H? 0 <^-? ^ ? <^-e ^ S ^ ? ^ ? CHAPTER XI. 9 Continued. Antoinette shuddered as she spoke and looked up at her companion with imploring, terrified eyes, like those ol a child. "Heaven knows that it is not of my seeking," she cried, passionately. "But look here! I have something to show you." She drew out of her breast suddenly a little silver box, about four inches long and very slender. "Look at this," she said, opening it. "Within the case lay a small, white, peeled wand, forked at the end. "After my mother's death," she said, "Xanon took this from her breast, and gave it to me. She did not know what it was, but imagined it to be some precious relic, and she desired me never to part with it. For many years I always wore it under the same impression, and such was my awe of it, for 1 always imagined that it might be a portion from the true Cross, that I never, till about two years ago, took it out of the case. Then a curious thing occurred. Our professor of literature was giving us a lecture about legends and myths. His lectures were very interesting; he illustrated them by reading the account of the search for minerals with the divining rod, in 'The Antiquary.' Then he spoke of the shape of the rod and the position in which experts used to make use of it, lightly held with both hands." Arthur saw the same strange look that he had remarked before coming over her face, and he hastily interrupted her. "Tell me," he said, "I suppose you then recognized the Fliape of your relic." She started and became herself again. "Yes, our professor told me to take the greatest care of it, that it was most curious and valuable from an antiquarian point of view. He removed it from its case to examine it more closely, and then, for the first time, I perceived that there was a slip of paper, on which a few words were written in my mother's handwriting, underneath it. You may read it if you like." Arthur took the tiny little scrap of paper from her hand; it was yellov? with age, and the handwriting faint and pale. The words were in French. "My beloved little one, to you I leave the legacy of our hereditary power. I dare not refuse to do so, for it may be the gift of God for the doing of His divine will; but I conjure you, as you value the blessing of your dying mother, never use it but to save life. Not even to fulfill justice, unless to save from injustice. God bless and keep my darling." "You did not tell any one else of this, did you?" said Arthur. "No. I never dared talk of my mother, her name was too sacred to me; to speak of her was to lay bare the whole tenderness of my heart. I never loved anyone well enough to do that." Arthur started, and the color flushed into his cheeks. "I am glad you did not speak of it," he said, gently. "But all this is no proof. You have never used it, of course?" "Never! I have the greatest terror nnrl rtrenrl nf it. 'Rut. alas! I can not divest myself of the idea that if I ever took it in my hands it would pass beyond my control; that " "If you feel that," said Arthur, firmly, "you should not keep it in your possession." "What can I do?" she said. "I dare not part with it. I have stood over the fire many and many a time longing to cast it in, but I dare not. My mother's words have elevated this horrible power from a terrible m icfnrf nna 1 n f a en t rn Qt T dare not destroy it." "Then placo it in the hands of some friend you can absolutely trust. That is my advice," said Arthur. " I have no friends," she answered; "not one whom I could count upon." "Could you not trust me?" said Arthur. "I would do all I can to deserve your trust, if ypu can believe it after so very short a time of friendship.'' "I do, I will," she said. "You are so good to me. But I am selfish; you have only known me two days, and yet already I trouble you with my sorrows; and I have suffered a great deal." Arthur pointed to the little silver case that was lying on Antoinette's knee. "Dear Madamoiselle," he said, win you lei me piu my irienasmp to the proof and take charge of that for you? I think it will relieve you to feel that it is out of your own possession. " "Yes," she answered, taking it up. "But before I confide it to you I must ask you to promise me that if?if the conditions my mother mentions should ever make it my duty to use it, you will give it to me." "I will swear It if you like," he answered, "but, please God, that will never be." She shuddered as she placed the talisman in his hands. "I feel as if I were transferring my own burdens to you," she said. "I wish, with all my heart, that von ronId." hf> answered. CHAPTER XII. In spite of all that Mademoiselle Rigaud had said about her father's poverty, Arthur could not divest himself of the idea that they would find him living in a way, at all events, not uncomfortable, though, of course, not in keeping with the wealth that he knew him to possess; but he was greatly astonished to find that the reality even exceeded her expectations. They readied the station at Goucy about four o'clock in the afternoon. The day continued to be gray and very ugly. Fortunately, it did not actually rain, but dark clouds ?aSB5lS55ESH5E5H5B5B5H52S2 $ rE^5HSaSE5SSHSH5ESHSEm^ 9 ! | SCENT;!; JHSHSESESHSHSES^feSHSHSH^ 1 k ?? DIVINING gg ROD^ffj 3 LRGARET if MAJENDIE. HHflll ^ rHS?SE5"ESHSHSSS?_5HSPS55B5^ a r?gH5H5jjSa5gSH5H5HEg5-a5H55 ^ ?chased each other overhead, and nol | a gleam of sunshine appeared to wel: come them. ' Arthur's spirits, however, rose with - the prospect of seeing a new country I and life under an altogether new aspect. He jumped out of the train , with alacrity. "Perhaps we shall find ' Monsieur Rigaud himself come tc t meet you," he said, cheerily. ; "He would hardly know me if he I i did," she answered; "I have not seen ' j him for six years." "Ah! That, then, is the reason that ' | he continues to carry about an image ' I of his daughter in his mind in a ' j school girl's short frock and pinaI fore,'' he said, gaily. "Come, Mademoiselle Rigaud, will you get out? I will see to the luggage." There was no sign of Monsieur Rigaud outside. However, when they came out of the station, and when Arthur asked if no carriage had been sent from Mon Repos to meet them, the porter in a loose blouse laughed and pointed to the road. Antoinette gave him a little glance, half sad, half arch, as the vehicle which had been sent to meet them drew up. It was neither more nor less than Kol'rtn'n von ^ ro Ttr n Ktr Q CHQTlt cfc uaA^i o ?uu, uiauu MJ ? ^uuuv> white horse, with jingling beils on its brass ornamented harness. The driver was a-big, rough fellow, attired in a dirty sheepskin coat, and huge wooden sabots on his feet. He greeted Mademoiselle Rigaud with a friendly nod, but added, with a kind of jocose familiarity which made Arthur feel unreasonably angry: "Your father asked me last Sunday if I would fetch you for some sous less than the diligence from 'La Pie Blanche.' Dame! but he drives a hard bargain, your papa! He would not even throw in a bottle of cider of three sous; but matters were arranged at last. Only be quick, my little demoiselle, for I have yet two commissions to do in the town, and your papa doubtless awaits you with impatience." They clambered in with some difficulty. The springs of the cart might or might not have existed; Arthur suspected their non-existence, and the r seats consisted of broad leather bands about a foot wide stretched across. He made Antoinette as comfortable as circumstances would admit of, with their traveling bags and rugs to lean against, and seated himself beside her. Goucy appeared to be a much larger place than Arthur had anticipated, and he leaned forward, looking about him with eager curiosity as they threaded the steep, narrow streets. The driver cracked his whip loudly and used it lustily, with many an odd gutteral noise, to make his lean beast go showily through the streets and sweep clamorously round the corner into the Grande Place. This was a square of some pretensions, flanked by the Church and Hotel de Ville. Trees were planted round it, and carefully pruned into the conventional green wigs so dear to French landscape gardeners, and litle tables and innumerable painted iron chairs were set out under them. "There is 'La Pie Blanche,' " said the driver, whose name he told them was Mounier. "All 'les Messieurs' of the town dine there daily at table d'hote. And yonder, Mademoiselle, do you remember that house?" "Yes," said Antoinette, "I fancy I do. What a Dicturesaue old house. j Could it have been there my grandfather lived?" "Maison Rouge, yes. The Doctor Aymar lived there, and your sainted mother was born there. Heaven rest I her soul!" Now they dashed through the Place with a grand show and clatter and began to leave the town behind them. Once out of the streets, Mounier pulled up his horse and allowed it to subside into a slow, heavy trot. The road seemed interminable, for the settled trot of the white mare was little faster than the walk of most hnrs^s -a slow heavv ioe. Arthur turned round presently to address his companion and was shocked to see how pale she had become, and how she was shivering from time to time. "You are chilled,'* he said, anxiously. "It is this miserable cart. How I wish I could do more for you." He unfolded the rug on her knees and tried to envelop her more completely in it. "Mademoiselle Rigaud, Antoinette," he said, eagerly, "for Heaven's sake do not look so sad and so frightened. What is there to dread? On the contrary, you will have nothing to anticipate but what is pleasant. It will be a great pleasure to you to make your father perfectly happy by your love and care, and I have not the slightest doubt that you will find him most gentle and amiable to you in every way." "I am very foolish," she said, sit ting upright and trying to smile. "But do not imagine that my foolish fears have anything to do with my father. It is the atmosphere of this country. It is Do you believe in presentiments?" "I believe in nervous fears," he answered, gaylv. With any one else he might perhaps have lost patience, for a continuance of feelings which at another time he might have regarded as foolish and morbid; but : every hour that they passed together !\\as deepening his interest in Antoij nette. I At last they drove out of the forest, and Mounier, with a flourish and tremendous cracking of his whip, forced his horse to whirl them up to the door of Mon Repos. CHAPTER XIII. Mon Repos! Arthur looked up eagerly; iie thought that never in all his life had he beheld such a desolate, miserable looking place as this new home to which he was ahout to consign what he now suddenly felt to be the greatest treasure of his life. He could scarcely conceal his dismay; but it was Antoinette's turn to comfort. "I remember it! I remember it well, now," she exclaimed. "It is just what I recollect, even to the cocks and hens, and the things hung out to dry in the courtyard. I shall be able to improve something, at all events," she said. "It is easy to see that the poor old house has no mistress." Poor Arthur! He felt as if he could not consign his precious charge i to this desolate, lonely, unhealthylooking home. He involuntarily grasped her hand at the very idea. She looked up with a smile. "There is nothing in the least to alarm me in all this," she said, brightly, "In ' foot mv nrospnlimpnt? havfi all fled. ( Of course, it looks neglected, but I j have no fear of poverty, as you know, ( and ruy father is very poor.'' She caught the incredulous look on , Arthur's face, which he could not quite hide, and the color flushed into hers. "It is true, in spite of the fact that vo-a do not believe me." she | said, a little indignantly; and, refusing his offered help, she sprang from the cart to the ground, and pulled the bell herself. It was some minutes before it was answered, and Mounier got impatient. "Dame!" he exclaimed, "my bargain did not include the loss of a whole day. See, lend a hand, Monsieur!" and he unceremoniously lifted out their boxes on to the road, with Arthur's assistance, and drove off, biting the florin which he had put into his hand, as if doubting the possibility of its genuineness as a gift from anyone who bad any connection with Mon Repos. Antoinette would wait no longer. She rang again and again. The door opened at last, and the old woman appeared, her head shaking very much from excitement. "Is it possible?" she exclaimed, shrilly. "Not 'demoiselle already! and the master never told me! Dame! Why did he not tell me? Here, Battiste! Quick, quick! Mademoiselle has come! Let Monsieur know. Here, Battiste! One would think he was growing old!" she cried, as her old husband followed her into the yard. "Mademoiselle has forgotten old Nanon," she exclaimed, opening her arms wide. "Can it be otherwise, after thirteen long years?"' "I have never forgotten you, dear, dear Nanon!" cried Antoinette, throwing herself into them and kissing her withered old cheeks. "I am so rejoiced to see you again. But did you not expect us? Where is my father?" "We never knew what day or hour you were coming; but everything is ready for you, my precious. Old Nanon has been counting the days till you came. As for Monsieur, we will tell him sood, but he is in his own room, he must not be disturbed; but I will send Battiste to tell Mademoiselle's cousin. He will, indeed, be rejoiced." "My cousin?" said Antoinette, puzzled. "I did not know I had a cousin " "Perhaps not, Mademoiselle. Monsieur himself did not know till he arrived. He is a handsome young gentleman, and has been of great service to Monsieur." "But who is he?" repeated Antoinette. "He is Monsieur Paul, the only son of Mademoiselle Louise, who married Monsieur Leduc, and who went off to some terrible far-away place called Peru. They both died there, and Monsieur is delighted with his nephew." Antionette looked bewildered, as well she might. Arthur followed her into the house. He did not mean to leave Mon Repos till he had seen Monsieur Rigaud, and consigned his charge into her father's own hands. "I must introduce myself," said a pleasant voice from behind old Nanon, who was leading the way. "Mademoiselle, I have so recently returned to France that I have never yet had the honor of claiming you for my cousin." Arthur looked up, expecting Antoinette to answer, but he started suddenly. She was going straight forward to meet a figure standing j _< 1 1 ^o.lr I SOUie SIL'PS clUUYC lid UAi LUC uaia | staircase. There was something odd in her silence, and in the way her hands were moving slightly up and down. To be Continued. Camphor Tree in Florida. As showing how favorable to the growth of the camphor tree is the soil and climate of Florida, an instance may be cited of one grown by Capt. J. P. Renfroe, of Richland. ]t is a splendid camphor tree seventeen years old that is forty feet in height, its branches cover forty feet and its diameter twelve inches above the ground is four feet. The splendid hills around Richland seem to be specially adapted both in soil and climatic conditions to the growth and development of the camphor tree in its highest state. The tree becomes useful for the production of the gum within a few years after planting. The growth mentioned is an indication that the tree thrives well in this State.?Wade City Democrat. "I'm Going to Sleep." In making public tributes to the late Thomas Bailey Aldrich from well known writers, Talbot B. Aldrich, son of the poet, told how the famous author approached death, with his mind filled with poetical thoughts. Mr. Aldrich said: "My father died a poet. Only a little while before the end he said: 'I regard death as nothing but the pass- i ing of the shadow of the flower.' "His last words as he passed away, holding our hands, were: " 'In spite of all I am going to sleep: put out the lights."?Boston Dispatch to the New York American. wormy 01 nis nut-. The Rev. Abe Mulkey cut out the trimmings last night and gave his hearers the plain article right from the factory. He hitched up truth to facts and plowed deep in the soil of sin, never slacking until the entira field was broken up.?The Duranl (Ind. Ter.) News. T *% Household f | Matters. ? V Currant Mint Sauce. Separate one glass currant jelly ! into pieces, but do not beat. Add two tablespoonfuls mint leaves minced fine and the thin yellow shavings from the rind of one-third orange.?Washington Star. Curry Sauce. Cook a tablespoonful of chopped onion in a tablespoonful of butter, j taking care not to let it burn. Mir one tablespoonful of curry powder with two tablespoonfuls of flour and stir into the butter. Add gradually a pint of hot milk and stir until smooth.?Washington Star. String Bean Salad. Select young, tender beans, cut the strings from both sides, then cut each bean in two lengthwise, then -invncc! Tlunw Ihpm in rnld water as fast as cut. When ready to cook cover with boiling, salted water, cook twenty minutes and drain, throw into cold water ten minutes, then cover i again with boiling water, to which two or three tablespoonfuls olive oil have been added. Cook fifteen minutes or longer until tender. Season with salt and pepper and serve hot for the first day. Put the beans remaining in the ice box. When ready for the salad, drain free from liquor, arrange on lettuce leaves and cover with French dressing or sauce tartare.?Washington Star. Pninty Way to Serve Cabbage. Cut out the heart stem and core of a medium sized cabbage, and remove the outer leaves. Plunge the j j head into an abundance of boiling . water for four minutes, and take it I up very carefully, so as not to break j it. Let it cool. Prepare a force I meat, using a pound of sausage with a quarter of a pound of lean veal ground to a pulp and seasoned to taste. Stuff the inside of the head, and tie it up carefully, so that the stuffing will not come out. Put into a pan with a small carrot, a small onion, and a cupful of stock or milk. Let it simmer in the oven or on top of the stove, well covered. Baste occasionally and serve with rich 'jrown sauce.?American Cultivator. Tomato Sance. Add to one cupful of hot stewed and strained tomato one tablespoonful of butter rubbed with a teaspoonful of corn starch. Stir until smooth and thickened, add one-half teaspoonful of salt, a few drops of onion juice and a tablespoonful of table sauce. If too thick dijute with a little boiling water. A richer sauce is made by putting a pint can of tomatoes i into a saucepan with a bunch of seasoning herbs, salt and pepper to taste, and add one-half cup of water. Put over the fire, cook about threequarters of an hour, stirring often. Put a tablespoonful and a half of butter in a saucepan over the fire with a scant tablespoonful flour. Add the strained pulp from the tomatoes and a small cup rich broth, graduating the amount to make the sauce the consistency required.?Washington Star. Household Hints. Four even teaspoonfuls make one even tablespoonful. Twelve tablespoonfuls dry material one cupful. Two cupfuls make one pint. One dozen eggs should weigh one i and one-half pounds. One teaspoonful salt to two quarts ! of fiour. One teaspoonful salt to one quart | of soup. One quart of water to each pound of meat and bone for soup stock. Four pepper corns, four cloves, one teaspoonful mixed herbs to each j : quart of water for soup stock. r One teaspoonful of flavoring ex- ! I tract to one plain loaf cake. One-quarter-pound salt pork to a i pint of beans for "Boston baked [ beans." I One cupful butter (solid) makes ! one-half pound. | One cup of granulated sugar cneI half pound. j One round tablespoonful butter one ounce. Wash and starch doilies having knitted or crochet lace borders. When they arc half dry wrap them up in | a cloth and lay them aside. Iron | only the centre of the doilies and |*pull the lace gently into shape with the fingers. If the color has been taken from J silks by acids it may be restored by | applying to the spots a little hartshorn nr sal volatile. When sprinkling linen for ironing, It is belter to use hot water than cold, for it soaks into the linen more quickly, and so much is not required. When the clothes are dampened, roll them up tightly until they can be ironed. Soup should nover be allowed to cool in any vessel of tin, copper or iron; it must be poured while hot into a shallow, well-glazed earthen pan and be stirred. Fresh stains jpon wall-paper, where people have rested their hands, can be removed by covering the spot with a mixture ol' pipeclay and water made into a soft paste and letting it remain over night, then brush off with a stiff whisk broom. Air Navigation. Archytas. the geometer of Taren-_ tum, B. C. 300, is supposed to have been the first to think of a "flying machine." According to Aulus Gellius, Archytas made "a dove in wood, so contrived as by a certain mechanical art and power to fly." Albert Magnus, of the thirteenth century, is said to have made some sort of flying machiue. In the sixteenth century an Italian alchemist visited Scotland and built a machine with wings, with which he undertook to fly from Stirling Castle to France. The Montgolfler brothers, Stephen and Joseph, sent up the first balloon, Juue, 1783. The first human being to ascend in a balloon was Francois Pilatre de Rozier, October. 17S3. ? New York Americau. THE SUNDY? SCHOOL. INTERNATIONAL LESSON COMMENTS FOR MARCH 15. Subject: .Jesus Heals a Man Born Blind, John 9:1-12 ? Golden Text, John 0:5?Commit VerscS 10, 11?Commentary. TIME.?October 11, A. D. 29. PLACE.?Jerusalem. EXPOSITION. ? 1. Receiving Sight, 1-7. There are three words of immense import in the first verse, I ".Tesna nasspri hv." Orpat thincs mav I j be expected to occur wh<_n Jesus I passes by. The case of this man was | absolutely hopeless. He had been blind from his birth. No human skill I could touch his case. But Jesus passed by. That changed everything. What man cannot do, Jesus can. Jesus is ever passing our way in these days, so we may constantly expect wonderful things to happen (Jno. 14: 12). This blind man is a suggestive illustration of the unsaved sinner; blind (1 Cor. 2:14), he never had seen; he was beyond human help (v. 32); his case was hopeless, humanly speaking (doubtless he himself had given up all hope of ever seeing); he was without human sympathy, suspected and despised (vs. 2, 34); he was poor, a beggar. But all his need was only an opportunity for God^ abounding grace in Christ. Jesus not only passed by, "He saw." He ever sees us in our need and distress (cf. Ex. 3:7; 6:5). Contrast the feeling of Jesus' disciples as they looked at the man with that of Jesus Himself. Their feeling was one of curiosity and contempt. His or deepest compassion (2, 4, 6). Are we likest to the Master or the disciples? What is your feeling as you gaze upon the poor, the outcast and the unfortunate? Jesus saw in this man's misfortune a call to help; they saw in it onlv tV>inct pnnconnonpn nf cin Tho V"W J WWW VWUWVVjllWUV^ V* *UV disciples thought all sickness must be the direct consequence of sin. Jesus plainly declares this is not sc, that there is another purpose in physical infirmity, viz.: "that the works of God should be made manifest." They were made manifest in this man's case by his healing. Sometimes they are made manifest by God's sustaining grace in weakness (2 Cor. 12:8-10). Doubtless sickness is often the direct result of Ein (Jno. 5:14; Mark 2:5; Acts 12:23). In other cases it is the indirect result. When God's children wander from Him He suffers sickness to overtake them, to bring them to their senses and Himself (Job 33:14-30). But sickness does not always arise from this cause (Phil. 2:27, 30; 2 Kingq 13:14). We live in a day when men are making sweeping generalizations about sickness from only part of the data. Jesus did not teach by verse 3, that neither this man nor his parents i had ever sinned, but that they "did" not sin as the cause of this blindness (see R. V.) The parent so far from being sinless, sinned before the chapter ends. That is a wonderful "must" in verse 4. "I must (R. V., we must) work the works of Him that sent Me, while it is day." Indeed we must. Night is coming fast. No man can work then. Up and at the work now. Oh, those solemn words, "The night cometh," the night of death, when we sleep, not work, not unconscious, but shut out of activity and shut up with Christ in blessed communion (Phil. 1:23), but beyond the possibility of finishing any work we have left undone here. The other night cometh when the church shall have been removed from the earth, and the darkness of the great tribulation shall have settled down upon it. Note the worlrQ wo mnct /In* nnt rmr nwn hut /'the works of Him that sent Me." It is plain from comparing vs. 2 and 4, that Jesus considered delivering men from evil far more important than speculating about the origin of evil. If we are to follow Jesus, we ought not to wait until misery comes to us, we should go to it. The command, "Go, wash, etc.," was a test of faith (2 Kings 5:10-14; Mark 3:5; Luke 17:14). "Siloam" means "sent," and was a type of Jesus Himself (v. 4; Jno. 10:36; Ro. 8:3; Gal. 4:4). If we wish sight for our blind eyes we should go to Him and bathe (Jno. 8: 12). The man gave the best evidence in the world of faith, prompt obedience. The result, "ho came seeing." 11. Witnessing, 8-12. The blind | man's cure occasioned discussion and division. Christ's work always i arouses discussion and causes divis ion. The discussion gave an opportunity for testimony. The man showed his majliness by saying, "I am he" ("he that sat and begged"). His frank testimony for Jesus cost him excommunication (v. 34), but it brought him a deeper, fuller knowledge of the Lord (vs. 35-38). When he was asked how his eyes were opened he gave a model statement of the case, short, right to the poiut and giving the exact fact3. He spoke of his deliverer as "the Man called Jesus." Later in the day he said, "He is a prophet" (v. 17). Later still, ho recognized Him as "the S*jn of Goq" (35-38). Those who heard wanted to see Jesu3 (v. 12). Such is the power of testimony. He was then brought to the Pharisees, the recognized enemies of Jesus (v. 22; ch. 11:46, 47, 57; 12:42). But the man did not dodge the issue even then. His testimony created division even pmnnor thfi Pharisees (cf. Acts 14:3. 4). Some decided that He could not be from God, because He kept not the Sabbath, according to their notions. But others said, "How can a man that is a sinner do such signs?" That is' an unanswerable question for all de-' niers of the oeity of Christ for if He js not divine He is the chief if blasphemers. Tickers For Lawmnkfr?. "Tickers" like those which toil the rise and fall of the stock market are to be installed in the new palace, as the oflk-e building ot thf> House of Representatives is called by its cccupants at Washington, I). 0. At present it is the intention to have the tickers record a brief account of the -- f1,n Unno.^ proceedings on m? mwi m x.ui,*., fo that a member can till at a glance just the stage cf debate or executive business. What may be slipped in at intfsrv?'?s en other subjects remains to be seen. Year to Trim Cullman Diamond. An Amsterdam diamond cutter has begun the work of trimming t.he Cullinan diamond, the Transvaal's gift to King Edward of England, into shape. The task will probably occupy a year. It is believed the gem will be the largest perfect diamond in the world when cut. The portions containing flaws will be cut into smaller stones. The workroom is guarded by the police day and night and a special staff of private watchmen is employed to see that none but the authorized e? uert? ?nt?r. ? - - - - . . ! THE TEMPERANCE PKUPAtiANUA | CONCERTED ATTACK ON DRINK | WINNING ALL ALONG LINE. The Closing of the Saloons lias Brought Prosperity to Kansas? ! - Wage Earners Now Spending | : Money For Homes. Assistant Attorney-General C. W. | \ Trickett has placed himself on record '' In the following: "The Kansas of to-day furnishes i an example that prohibition does pro-: hibit. In this county one year ago there were 25 0 saloons. They wero i all closed within thirty days, and we I have now existed without saloons for more than one year. About a year ago there were saloons in probably ! 1 half of the counties in this State; ' To-day, excepting Crawford County, j there is not an open saloon in tha j . Etate, and I presume ere this lettet |! reaches you there will not be a saloon i in Crawford County. "By proceedings in the Supreme j Court of this State all the brewers j have been ousted, and their real estate is in possession of the receivers ' appointed by the Supreme Court, and ! unless the breweries sell the same to I parties purchasing for legitimate pur- j1 poses within six months it is to b? j j sold at public auction. This order oi 1J the court nrevents breweries and ! ' wholesale liquor houses from owning j 1 any property in this State, real oj j1 personal. i j "Many people of this city feared j . the closing of the saloons would ruin i1 our prosperity, but such has not been ! the result. On the contrary, bus!-' * ness in all departments has increased, i j deposits in our hanks increase^ I' about $2,000,000, merchants havd i c employed additional clerks, countj ! and city expenses reduced $50,000 it v 'the prosecuting of criminals, rent* have advanced and real estate has in; r creased in value twenty-five per cent; | 8 "During the twelve months with' j: out the saloons our population has in- J creased by more than 13,000 inhab- [ ltants, and from January 1 until Julj 1 of last year there were 1322 new ? residence buildings erected in ou< ! city, and during the month of July ? building permits v/ere taken out fof c 245 additional buildings. Wage earn- ? ers who formerly spent their money ' In the saloons now are buying homed J on the instalment plan, and the wild- F est prohibition fanatic would not havehad the courage to imagine, much c less prohpesy, the beneficial resulta ? flowing from the closing of the sa- i 1 joons." I ' . ! 0 b New York City Has 10,776 Saloons, i A census compilation recently mada I p public in Washington sets forth a few I g very striking facts. Among these c are the following: - . b (a) Cleveland and San Franciscd n lead all other cities in the number of 2 saloons as compared with the popular tion. During 1905 there were 3280 t saloons in San Francisco and 15,751 p arrests for intoxication. In Cleve* t land there were 3177 saloons and I; 15,357 arrests for drunkenness. , {j (b) New York in 1905 had 10,770 |: licensed saloons, with 1050 groceri t and 620 druggists authorized to sell | liquor. During the same period therfl [, were 52,316 arrests for intoxication, * Think of this?over 50,000 persons jj unfit to be at large and dangerous td r, the life and limb of those with whom p they may come in contact! All this< c too, in only one city of our land! IJ e we did not have the manufacture ana ] r Bale of intoxicating liquors among us,' ^ just think what it would mean, not p only to the poor victims themselverj 1; but to thousand and tens of thousands [; of others affected by them! R |i The Passing of the Moonshiner. L Moonshiners are becoming scarce, b says David A. Gates, chief of the in- u ternal revenue agents of the Treasury ? Department, giving the following reason: f The rapidity with which the liquid 1' traffic has forced itself forward in t' politics is one of the main reasons 6 fnr the fruHnal dporMSP nf mnr>T1- ft shining establishments. Tennessee ? went dry last fall; many counties in I Kentucky are now numbered among E the "white ribboners," and Virginia ? is, for the most part, opposed to the sale or traffic in liquor. , J1 Everything is gradually helping to ? make the historic and romantic occuJ r pation of a moonshiner a memory and i P a faint memory at that.?Washing- ^ ton Times. ? , R: Emperor William Astonished. ~ In the commissioners' report to the Kaiser, it is shown tbat the Germaa j u people have consumed alcoholic liq? uors during the past year to the amount of $750,000,000. The Kais- ^ er's commissioners report that drink- : B( lug is steadily on the increase, this in- I a crease amounting to $125,000,000 j ^ per annum in late years. When the | Kaiser read this part of the commis- j t| Bioners' reports he cried, "An increase j n of six hundred millions in five years! ! v Why, the Yankees themselves could n not stand it." Reports show that g there was a long discussion between the Kaiser and the commissioners a< 4rv f U a I?A^ ii ni n rr iu iuu jjuoaiuiiiLi y ui icuuuug j tremendous amount. u She Stood by Him. , c A man in an Ohio town failed in j ? the dry goods business and tried td j 1 retrieve his fortunes by going into the i ? saloon business. His wife opposed: ! J3 but to no purpose. He opened hit i l' "place," and his resourceful wife ar< ? gued that if the barroom was a good 1 place for her husband, it was a gooq J,1 place for her. So she dressed hersell * In her finest and took her v/ork-boi ^ and sat down by the bar to keep hei * husband company. The presence o| a cultivated lady froze out the thirst]' "j patrons and the husband was soc forced to quit the business. Temperance Notes. The liquor saloon is always and ' everywhere a degenerate, breading i ~ drunkenness, vice, crime and misery, I | Nine times out of ten ruffianism ! r( is caused by whisky. When you elim- s inate the cause you eliminate the effect. In all the States?with the exception of Pennsylvania, New Mexico, r Arizona, Nevada, Utah, Idaho, Wy- fE' oming and Montana?prohibition sen. *' timent is steadily gaining sweep an<J . influence. * The sentiment against the saloon trade is recognized by the men in it, nnrl .it th#> rpppnt rnnvuntinn of 1101101? dealers the sensible advice of thosij \ ^ who want to "clean it up" was in' e dorsed with practical unanimity. n Ex-Senator E. W. Carmack, of Ten- n nessee, said that within a few years j a there would bo laws barring the ship-" ; tl went of liquor from wet to dry States, \ n thus ending the liquor traffic iu tho j Ci South. ' Governor J. Franklin Fort, of New i Jersey, an honored ofliccr in a Presj j byterian church, is declaring himseld ^ everywhere boldly in favor of tha a Bishops' law and of local option oa 0 ihe temperance question/ j L j iT/i^UGHTS Fj^THS * miET^^. ' THE STILL, SMALL VOICE. . :\ The fool said in his heart. "There is no God." Then came calamity into his life? A whelming storm of loss and bitter strifeRut he defiant stood, unmoved, unawed. j He felt affliction's keen, unsparing rod; He saw swept from him children, friends * and wife. TU*V lim'tfAMSA WVAn/f f A llifW oflflwifl/l iUC UIIMCIAC >niu ?i VV/ U1U1 ovwrnvv* rife? And still he cried aloud, "There is no God!" i Hie Spirit moved again, in gentler mood. Anil to his soul spake soft and still, till he tVho in the storm and earthquake heard not God Lent ear unto the still, small voice's plea \nd learned at last the ever-blessed spell rhat God doth rule, and doeth all things well. . > . The universe with good to him was rifeyAnfl then he cried, ""Omnipotent i? God!" ?Key Ring, in Home Herald. Refage in Trouble. > Three days after the Israelites had; :ung the song of victory on the willerness side of the Red Sea, their 'aitli was tried, for they found novater. \Vould the wonderful experi- j mces of the past lead them to exer:ise such faith in God as to endure luietly until deliverance was granted hem? Alas, no; tney fell again unler the power of "things which are ieen" and "temporal." Arriving at tfarah and finding tne waters bitter, hey "murmured against Moses, sayng, 'What shall we drink?' " Moses lid what they ought to have done; he , iried unto the Lord and the waters V vere soon made sweet for them. There at Marah, by the healed raters, God "made for them a statute? ,nd an ordinance, and there H4. iroved them, and Baid, 'If thou wilt lillgently hearken to the voice of tha^ ..ord thy God, and wilt do that which! s right in His sight, and wilt give ear o His commandments, and keep all' lis statutes, I will put none of these * llseases upon thee, which I have irought upon the-Egyptians; for lj" / ,m the Lord that healeth thee* " (or he Lord thy Physician). The ordilance for Israel was obedience, God'siledge was to heal them. Accordingy we find it written of the people who ame out of Egypt, "there was not me feeble [sick] person among theirrlbes" (Ps. 105:37), ahd again, "Thy aiment waxed not old upon thee,. leither did thy foot swell these forty ears" (Deut. 8:4). In respect of all heir needs the Lord made Himself esponsible; for their safety, for their;uidance, for their health,' their lothing, and their food; they might tave said with David, "The Lord isay Shepherd; I shall not want" (Ps. 3:1). And yet, again and again we find; > hem murmuring. God tried them, and iroved them to know what was in theirr leart (Deut. 8:2), and He found! here a depth of unbelief only equaled TT +V. ^ TV,n<ArHtr TJla Y^rtr%l/3? y uai yjL IUC uiajuutj ui ?*.10 a our day. Looking upon outward' ircumstances, it was a very greatrial of faith to the children of Israel 0 find themselves in the wilderness, 'here no corn grew and no food could e obtained either by working for it r by paying for it. Judging by apearances the mothers must see theirhildren die of hunger before their yes, and the strong men who wereeady to work were incensed against loses and Aaron, when they saw no ossibility of procuring bread forheir families, and thus they vented heir indignation: "Would to God re had died by the hand of the Lord a the land of Egypt, when we sat by he fleshpots, and when we did fat read to the full; for ye have brought s into this wilderness to kill thia-rhole assembly with hunger." There was nothing wrong in asking or bread; God says, "Call upon Me1 the day of trouble, I will deliver tee, and thou shalt glorify Me" (Ps. 0:15). But the spirit In which they cted reflected upon God and upon loses; it was unbelief and not faith, 'hey despised and made light of thelorious distinction which God had reated between them and the Egypians. and 6Doke as thouKh the con- ? equences of trusting Goif were more atal than those of rebelling against lim. Yet God in His tender love assed over their sin, and Bupplied heir need without so much as reuking them. "The Lord said unto* loses, Behold, I will rain bread from eaven for you." God's storehouses re not confined to earth; His reources are -wider than the universe:self, for His power is creative; why hen doubt Him? And yet how many there are who uffer need, and when they pray, doo in a despairing, hopeless manner, s though they took it for granted hat God would not hear them, intead of praying in confident expectaion, counting upon God as having lade Himself responsible, by His ery name of Father, for the real eeds of all His children.?Mrs. M. laxter, in Christian Herald. \ ____ / " Using Our Reputations. Reputation has its uses as a stlmlus. It is not of nearly so much acmint oq qrcirtor + r\ onm ur reputation is only what people hink we are, while our character ia ,-hat we are. But there is one way y which we can make of our repuations?and we all have more than ne?valuable helpers. A shrewdly, houghtful business man has told ow in this advice: "Be what your ( riends think you are; avoid being . hat your enemies .say you are." 'here is a sure way to justify our riends and to confound our enemies -and nobody gets hurt by it.?Sunay-School Times. Like a Cathedral. Christian faith is like a grand athedral with dimly pictured win< ' ows. Standing without, you see n<} lory, nor can possibly imagine any. tanding within, every ray cf lighj eveals harmony of unspeakably plendor.?Hawthorne. On Being Kind. Ths greatest thing a man can dc or his Heavenly ratner is to ue Kin? o .some of His other children. [Anj 1 hild can do that.]?Scottish Ke< ormer. cneaper Fuel For Autos. A Swedish engineer at Stockholm, hose name is not given, has discovred a new explosive liquid which is lany times superior to petrol as a lotive power for automobiles. It is sserted by experts who have tested tie discovery thatwith the new liquid lotors can be run at half the present ost. Dogs For Canal. The first of a number of bloodouikIs to be used in tracking criminls in the Panama canal zone were urchased at San Antonio. Texas, by .ieutcnam Sleekens at SJ.jfi cara.