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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
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?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.