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V $ [ESESBS^SBSESHSESESBSHSa ? ^^^asasas^SBsasasasa ^ 5H5H5HJ^5B5^?5H5B5^5BSH V SBSHSHS'eSbiciSHSgSeSSS^Qi 3 5HS^^"SS"dL5H5HS5SHSESe J~' A SHScSESZStS^SSHSH^^aSH 2 ft TRACED gg BY ?g A (7 5R5P5^HSSHSHFaSE5H55SH5a $ IliiUfi By LADY |fj MAR 3 5HSHSHSE5HFHSH5H5E5S5H5H r} cia ?n dS? S e?i rdb cL5rj5"5 ET5. CHAPTER XIV. 12 Continued. He had a little carriage at the door, drawn by a staid pony, and offered Arthur a seat beside him. The taker. Mounier, was going the same way, and he^offered old Nanon a lift. Mounier was evidently anxious to see and hear. The house looked forlorn enough as they drove up to it. Antoinette was standing outside, leaning against the parapet, with her hands sheltering her eyes, to watch for their arrival. Old Battiste was cowering behind her; he looked a most miserable, trembling old creature. Antoinette hardly noticed the Mnvnr fihp snvnne- fnrward to meet Arthur with a little cry. "At last!" she exclaimed. "How thankful I am to see you! Now we can force open the door. I have all the tools in readiness; we have found them." "Do not agitate yourself," he said, gently. "Very probably we shall find that ycur father has fainted, or that some such ailment has overpowered him." He held her hand tightly in his. "Oh! do not let us waste time in conjectures," she exclaimed, leading the way indoors. "This is Monsieur Tasset, Antoinette," said Arthur, hastily. "He has | come to help us." "You are very kind. Monsieur," &he j said, looking at him with a sad little i smile. "You will forgive my anxiety." Monsieur Tasset glanced at Arthur in astonishment when he saw the thickness of the doors. ? -a 1. '? we snan iieeu muie ueiy, uc said, and he turned tc old Battiste, who was almost crazy with anxiety, and desired him to tell Mounier to tie up the horses somehow, and come to their assistance. They were glad of the baker's strong arm, for it was very long before the doors gave way. "My brother-in-law put good work in here," said Mounier, pausing to wipe his brow. "It does him credit; but one is inclined to wish he were not so good a workman." "Hush!" said Tasset. The last blows were being struck. It was evident that in another moment the door would fall, and the secrets of the inner room would be revealed. A solemn silence seemed to fall upon them all, only the loud, ringing blows and the trembling vibration of the woodwork, as it cracked, and splintered, and broke. "Antoinette!" said Arthur. "Dearp?t leave us now. I entreat you. I will come to you at once. You shall not be left one moment in suspense." But it seemed as if the sound of his imploring voice did not even reach her ear. "Antoinette, do, I beseech you, yield in this." But as he actually uttered the words the great door fell in with a tremendous crash, and they all rushed forward into the room. Never till their dying hour did those three men forget the awful shriek that came from Antoinette at the first sight of what that room contained. It rang through the house and re-echoed through the woods, and it was followed by a death-like stillness. On the ground lay the body of her father?horribly, brutally murdered! The feet and gown of the daughter were dyed in the blood which had poured over tie floor. She would have fallen on her knees beside him but Arthur sprang forward and caught her, thanking God as he saw j her become unconscious in his arms. Monsieur Tasset was the first to speak. His voice was hoarse from horror. "This is worse than we could have anticipated, Monsieur," he said. I "It is just as well that you had wit-1 nesses." Arthur made no answer; he was j watching Battiste. The old man | had thrown himself on his knees by j the corpse, and with his feeble arms j was trying to raise it." "See, Messieurs!" he cried, pas- j sicnately. "See. he has been murdered and robbed! Yes. he was right in his fears, for this was where he hid them, and they are all gone, all gone!" He pointed out a piece in the floor wnerc a puam iuiu ueeu rewoveu, i and showed a yawning aperture be-1 low. "What was ii? What did he keep there?" said the Mayor, very gravely. "His treasure! His diamonds! Eut they are all gone. Oh! master! My oid master!" cried the wretched man. "It is my doing! All my doing!" aud he burst into a passionate wail, moaning aud dashing himself upon the ground. Tasset did not speak, he only looked at him -svith a grave, puzzled expression Then Antoinette shewed a very slight symptom of returning consciousness, and Arihur rapidly carried her away. He took her into the nearest room, where fortunately he found a wide, old-fashioned sofa, on which he laid her gently, and began 1 ? ~ W ? ""1? C?V?<-v A/? licr XO (jiictiu lier uuuu^f. ouu ujjcuvu ?.v,. eyes once, but evidently the horrible recollection of what she had seen flashed across her mind, for another little cry escap?d her. and she fainted away once more. For the next hour her condition caused him the greatest anxiety, and lie felt that he could not leave her for an instant. Old Nanon was far too much bewildered and terrified to be of the smallest use. Meanwhile, the necessary measures were being carried out promptly by the Mayor. The body of the unfortunate Monsieur Rigaud was removed to a bedroom: the doctor and cure were sent for: people began to come go. A hasty semi-official inquiry .was instituted. Arthur was most thankful to hear * las! SHSBSHSHSHSSEHSaSHSHSHSH (? gri< S^H5HSHSH5H?ra52SH5HS||H 9 tivc ISCENT;!!"' SE * SHSE 9 , 535H5HSE5a5Z?JHEraSHSHH3SB A 1 ?-^iiB&iipBiB t ?<! SESRSESZSESBSttfS-ESESZSZ A hov fg DIVINING g ROD. ?? ? ^ GARETHMAJSHDIE. imufi ? ho'o 5H5HSH5HSa5EErHSHSaSH5c1si 9 re>n 5H5ESHHZEHSE5HSE5H5RS252 2 ron v elk r, viOl ' of the arrival of a doctor. He was kin becoming greatly alarmed by the con- be dition of Antoinette, and he sent Na- Ion -l- % ! -_ 1- !- ?_X U/? 1>,W lion to lor ms cissibiciuut:. xic uui administered a considerable dose of to opium at once and Arthur sat by her ren sofa watching for the effect with the por deepest anxiety. His heart ached and i bled for her. this poor, helpless child, sur In her waking moments she clung to Wfc him. and he soothed her and kissed he her as tenderly as if she were indeed ous a child. anc The others seemed to understand exa with instinctive tact. An idea had eve got about that Arthur was her fiance, bef and he did not contradict it. He was 1 thankful for the excuse it gave him wa: to keep the position toward her that aga he had almost involuntarily assumed, har She slept at last, her hands relaxed Bal their clinging to Arthur, the painful sms drawn expression died out of her avc sweet face. She slept so heavily and to 1 with such extraordinary stillness un- giv der the influence of the powerful sea opiate that new fears began to assail bro Arthur, and he again summoned the yet doctor. exp However, the doctor reassured him. be It was all right, the best thing that his could possibly happen to her, he said; * and he then at last felt that he could C0D make up his mind to leave her, and f?n obev the summons of the Mayor to i come and give the assembled mag- hat nates all the information in his int< power. Alas! all the rapidly-collected evi- res dence seemed to point one way only. set Battiste had declared that only he Sro himself had known of the existence of the diamonds. Arthur at once bcl told of what Mademoiselle Rigaud had said to him the night before, that t:-? Battiste had spoken to her of the treasure, and that previously she had v'c' heard nothing of it. The fact that sna Battiste had volunteered this information to his master's daughter on Tas the very night of her arrival, he eve thought, would tell greatly in the old ls ( man's favor; but the doctor inter- har posed by asserting that it was his Set belief that even then, already at the B time of her arrival, Monsieur Rigaud ^es must have been dead. Arthur, at the * moment, was almost bewildered by "Mi all that had passed. He put his hand mai to his head, and said that he was c^u< afraid of making fatal mistakes if ( 1 called upon to give evidence at that "'**< moment; he asked for time to collect ^e his thoughts. in t They agreed at once, begging him courteously not to trouble himself, *01] and went' on talking less formally among themselves. It was well known, unfortunately, that Paul Leduc, in conversation with several in- in dividuals in Goucy, during his visits Iair tiopo hnri snnkpn of his uncle's ner- ^ow vous fears and apparent distruBt of SUP his old servant. The worst of all was the effect produced on the bystanders by the unhappy old man's exclamation over the "Dc body of his dead master: "It is all my doing." | tim On the other hand, the nature of the blow that had killed Monsieur Rian gaud seemed to indicate that the deed must have been done by a stronger arm than poor old Battiste could now boast of. The force of the blow must J?0, have been terrific, and death instantaneous, for the skull was shattered 0 like a nutshell. He had evidently or been kneeling over the hole which an contained his treasure, with his back . ' to the door by which the murderer S1S entered. He probably was struck 1 down instantly, for he was discovered ,u. lying face downwards, with both oc arms stretched out. ? Arthur, in spite of his request for ?, time to collect his thoughts, could S1(l< not help interposing to point out how au impossible it was that that feeble old ! man should have been able to deliver G such a blow, but they were rather an, inclined to laugh at that suggestion, ei asserting that Eattiste was as good as ever at felling trees, cutting up logs pr( of wood, etc. They summoned poor old Nanon. utterly unconscious of * what was going on, and it made his ton heart bieed to hear them cross-ques- ma tioning her as to her husband's capa- a v biliUes. and to hear her stoutly main- PU1 tain that in strength he was equal to C0B any young man yet. The old wife a&e made her boast with honest pride, kn( while she cculd not help wondering an^ ; why such irrelevant questions were Pul | being asked at such a time as the on ' present. No trace of a weapon could J'ud I lie found anywhere, and the doctor ' could form no opinion as to what in- boj strument had delivered the blow. He on was a timid man, with only the comlHonr.lace exoeriences of a small j ! country practice. out Arthur had a theory of his own on fas i the subject, but he was afraid to U1> J make suggestions prematurely. He ie ' was under the strong impression that > the blow had been dealt with a life1 preserver. Of Battiste's innocence he s?c j had not the slightest doubt, and it c was with a bitter sense of his impotence to save him that he saw the pU! j;oor, faithful old servant heavily llu i,ound with ropes, placed in Mounter's Da , cart, and driven off to the gaol at j Goucy. j Monsieur Tass^t set a seal upon 3 i various bureaus, ordered in a couple prf | ol' women, and a gen d'arme for the Ml I protection of the place, and at last 4 2! ! left them in peac?. arc Not till the actual moment of their list departure arrived did old Nanon real- era izo what was taking place; but when mi she did so she was like one possessed, sio ; !ler cries and screams were so violent coi j that Arthur was terrified lest they big . should even penetrate through the jol death-like veil of sleep which the thf doctor's opiate had thrown over An- tra loinette: but. fortunately, the two tiv women the Mayor had left were honest, kind-hearted peasants. They took her away with them, the comforting her with any amount of I the ; sooth in jt falsehoods, and succeeded 3t' ill ICUUtlii^ IlUi Iiv/lii I a :>f and despair to a kind of plain- | . ; faith and confidencc in all goin? < 1, that was far more touching. CHAPTER XV. Arthur spent the whole day at Mon pos, and during all those long | irs Antoinette never stirred. About , ) o'clock a little note was brought ' aim from the Mayor at Goucy. His j sence was required at the Hotel- ( Ville. It informed him that the ly of the murdered man was to be loved at eight o'clock to the Chap? des Morts in the cemetery at ! jcy; and Monsieur Tasset had the dness to add that he should not 1 detained at the Hotel-de-Ville 1 ger than could possibly be helped, ' : should be set at liberty to return Mademoiselle Rigaud before the 1 loval took place to afford her sup- 3 t and consolation. 1 Vrthur was obliged to obey the nmons; there was no alternative. len he readied tae iiotei-ue-vme was at oace subjected to a vigori cross-examination by the notaire 1 the Mayor. At the end of the mination matters seemed to look n blacker for poor Battiste than ore. The first and most important point 3 clearly to get Paul Leduc back .in. Without his evidence it would dly be possible actually to convince Ltiste; with it no one had the illest doubt that it would be unidable. A telegram had been sent the address in Paris which he had en, and even while they were ted in conclave the answer was j ught in: "Monsieur Leduc has not j . returned to Paris, but was hourly ( iected, and their wishes should j communicated to him at once on , return." There was nothing for . ?ut to wait. Poor old Battiste was ] veved back to prison, and the tr.al meeting broke up. ( Arthur turned to take down his . from the peg on which it hung, Dnding to return to Mon Repos, , en his attention was suddenly arted by a few words Monsieur Taswas saying to the notaire Les. 'I hope something may occur to 1 p us, Legros," he said, anxiously. '' ill me, do you honestly believe in 1 guilt of old Battiste?" 1 'There is evidence enough to con- ^ ; him twice over," said the notaire, ' pping his fingers. ' 'Evidence or not," said Monsieur 1 ;set, doggedly, "no Breton peasant | ' r injured his foster-brother. That i ! -mo of thp things that does not I 1 pen. It is a puzzle to me alto- i her. We want Jacques Aymar." < oth laughed slightly, but Monsieur J ,'ros departed. < Arthur went up to the Mayor, ' ay I ask who is this Jacques Ayr?" he said. "Would he afford a 1 to the mystery?" "asset shrugged his shoulders, j 2 might have done so, monsieur," said; "but, unfortunately, he died 1 he seventeenth century. He used . divining-rod in a peculiar manner the discovery of crimes." , , Yes?" said Arthur, anxious to r more. 1 The reason that we are interested j him in Goucy is that a Nantais , lily named Aymar settled in the 1 n some fifty years ago, and it was ( posed that the power?in a modi- ^ form, it is understood?still ex- , d among them." That is curious," said Arthur. , ) you believe in it?" , 'Bah! Why not? Our poor vie- , , Monsieur Rigaud, married into family." 'Indeed!" said Arthur, assuming indifference he was far from feelYes, the last of them all, Made- | iselle Jacqueline. She was called ! belle des belles' in Goucy, and . nsieur Rigaud was much disliked ' dragging her into the poverty I obscurity of Mon Repos. She d very early," and the good man I J .led deeply. rlonsieur Tasset arranged with Ar- J r that he would return at eight ; ock to be present when the body Monsieur Rigaud was transferred ] the Chapelle des Morts. He con- 1 jred it advisable that someone of hority should be present, in case ' was found that the curiosity of ' crowd should become obtrusive, 1 Arthur returned at once to Mon ios. To be Continued. . I rnson Alcott's System in England, educational circles InWolverhampdistrict are interested in a rerkable incident which occurred in oluntary school. A boy had been lished by the headmaster, and i aplaint being made to the ruanirs the chairman, who is a well>wn clergyman, went to the school 1 asked that he should receive the Jishment which had been inflicted the boy, so that he could test and ge of its severity. rhe headmaster explained that the r had received six strokes, three each hand. 'Well," said the reverend gcntlen, "I'll take them," and he held his hand in the conventional boy's hion. The headmaster screwed his courage, and in the presence of s assistant teachers and class adnistered six vigorous strokes. The clergyman lost his smile at the ond stroke and winced at each of ! succeeding ones, to the great joy the assembled boys. After the nishment he picked up his hat and rriedly left the room.?London ily Mail. We Kill Too Many Teople. During the first eight weeks Oil the .'sent year about 175 people were led in railroad accidents and about a ws.re injured. We Americans ! very callous about our annual ; of the dead and wounded traveli and railroad employes. The "ltido Hfflo imnroci. uui taouanico manv nvbiv vw n on the public mind, though they int up in tho annual total. The ; accidents are more effective in ting oi'i sensibilities, and of theBo ;re have boon so many of lato that velers' nerves arc unusually sensie.?Harper's Weekly. rhe 2000 Osages in Oklahoma are ! richest community on the face of i globe, and they are getting rich riousehoid Matters, i Borax For Fresh Meats. Fresh meats, dusted over with powdered borax (which is hot/ prepared of extreme fineness and purity ind white as snow), and rubbed in as /ou would pepper and salt, will keep :resh much longer. All that is rejuired is to wash the meat before looking. Nail Powder. The best powder for polishing the nails is oxide of tin, working in about :hree drops of oil of lavender to half in ounce. A half grain of carmine cvill tint it. After the oil is mixed with the two powders they must be passed through a fine sieve several Limes to make the lumps smooth.? Washington Star. Barley Water. Barley water is made in any quantity one wishes by washing and cleaning pearl barley, then putting in a saucepan with cold water to boil very gently, until the water becomes slightly thickened. It is then strained off. Twenty-five drops of tincture of benzoin are added to the proportion of three ounces of barley and a pint of water.?WashingtonStar. Cleaning a Covert Coat. To clean a covert coat, a good aiethod is that of sponging it with a " *?A ? J ? - O nf nro f AT mixture uiaue ul ?ia uuuiw ui i an ounce of hartshorn and an ounce ; Df sulphuric ether. The coat should j then be sponged with water, covered I with a damp cloth and ironed. Grease 1 marks on white silk blouses can often J be successfully removed by means of j Jry magnesia, while in the case of i colored silk, fuller's earth is a good j medium, and pure soap and water j can be safely employed in the case of j white siik.?Philadelphia Record. Aprons For Little Girls. Aprons are coming in again for little girls and for others up to the age of twelve or fourteen, according to their development. After all, this must be taken into consideration In the selection of all girls' clothing at this critical age. French mothers are adopting the apron, making it up in all the fashionable linens. Some forms of it are real works of arc in point of embroidery added to them; but others are merely "sensible" garments of plain, stout, easily cleansed material. The American mother, therefore, will find her children this year quite in the fashion. ?Harper's Bazar. Save Fine Articles From Ruin. Those who board, but who have privileges, may well imitate the maiden who washes her own silk underwear and stockings. The average laundry simply means ruin. VJII tJ 111UU9U 1UUS Xiiaiucu iiao 51 success. She soaks them, one garment at a time, in rather strong borax water for about ten minutes, the water svarm but not hot. Then she washes the garment in white suds until it is niean and rinses it in tepid water until the last water is clear, pulls the garment into shape and dries on a little "horse" which she bought for the purpose. Hot water is sure to make silk harsh.?Philadelphia Record. All in Good Taste. Nothing could be more appropriate .uan the covers and curtains seen in the inexpensively furnished home of a young matron who had picked up bits of old furniture to match the few pieces which had descended to tier from a doting grandparent. Her mahogany chest, bureau and little sewing table had covers made of organdie just the size of the ' arti?le to be covered. These were simply hemmed with an inch-wide hem, and about one-half inch inside this hem was sewed, on both sides, another inch-wide piece of the goods, making a simulated tuck. Could anything be simpler? Yet the effect was so quaint and appropriate, especially as sash curtains for the manypaned windows.were made the same way. These were draped with valence and side drapery of quaint-flowered chintz, and gave the finishing touch to the whole.?New Haven Register. jiptb E&ii @1311 (?> tMNV now TO PREPARE^ TffEH Potato Salmon Cawes.?A good way to use your "left over" mashed potatoes: Mix them thoroughly with a can of salmon and just enough corn meal to make them stick to- I gether in fiat cakes and fry 'n hot | lard. Cream of Tartar Biscuits.?One quart flour, three teaspoons cream of tartar, one and one-quarter teaspoons soda or four teaspoons baking powder, one teaspoon salt, one tablespoon lard; mix with either milk or water until stiff enough to roll. Spare Iiibs en Casse.?Two pounds spare ribs; boil till tender and brown in pan; one large cabbage; boil till tender in salt water; remove centre of cabbage, fill with spare ribs, recovering with cabbage. Bake onehalf hour, basting with cream and \ melted butter, seasoned with pepper and salt. Scallop Salad.?Boil one pint of j scallops ana cnop one-quarioi puuuu i of celery also chopped, mix with j salad dressing made like this: Two . tablespoons flour, one teaspoon mustard, four tablespoons vinegar, five tablespoons milk, two tablespoons melted butter. This does not require cooking. Place on lettuce leaves and serve. Vanilla Cake. ? Whites of three eggs, one and one-half cups sugar, one cup of milk, two cups of flour, one-half cup of butter, one teaspoonful of eream of tartar, one-half teaspoonful of soda, one teaspoonful of lemon ectract. For frosting, fifteen tablcspoonfuls of powdered sugar, 3'olkp of three eggs, one teaspoonful of vanilla extract- ' Religious Reading \ FOR THE QUIZ? JIOVH. M | BETWEEN TIIE DAYS. Between the days?the weary days? , He drops the d.irkness nncl the dews; Over tired eyes His hands He lavs, A"nd strength, and hope, and life vene.va Tlinnlr f^nri t'nr rnst between tbe davs! Else who could hear the battle stress Or who withstand the torn peat's shock Who thread the dreary wilderness Among the pitfalls and the roekr. Cair.o not the night with folded fioeks? Tho white light scorches, r.nd the plain Stretches before us, parched with heat; But, by and by. the fierce beams wane, And lo! the nightfall, cool and sweet, With dews to hathe our aching feet! For lie remembereth ov.r frame! Even for this I render praise. 0, tender Master, slow to blame, The falterer on life's stormy ways, Abide with us?between the days! ?The British Weekly. The Blessings in Meditation. Many Christians who say theli prayers regularly never meditate, The very words seem to them rathe? to belong to religious phraseology than to describe anything actual and practical in a Christian's life. Yet thej little know how much they lose with reference to the life of our Lord and Saviour by neglecting this mosl healthful and fruitful exercise. You say you do not know how to set about it. Very well, try something of this kind: After saying youi morning prayers, open a New Testament, and ask God to enable you to realize His presence and to send His Holy Spirit to enlighten and guide you. Then read two or three verses( or short paragraphs, a miracle, q parable, a part of a discourse, as tbd case may be. Do not think of its grammatical or historical or literary asneets. but say. "What do thesq words eay to me? What truth do they teach? What fault do they correct? What effort do they prescribe or encourage? What resolutions do they make necessary?" If in earnest, you will soon see your way. Scrip* turc is so full of meanings that tha real difficulty is which to select out of its abundance. Then, having decided on the main lessons of the pass-* age, pray earnestly that you may .practically remember them and turn them, in whatever way, to the best account. The whole exercise need not take Tip more than ten minutes, but at tha end of a year, it will, if regularly practiced, have made a great difference in matters which most intimately concern the soul. It is one way ol bo handling the gospel history as to ;become convinced of its truth from perceiving its intimate sympathy with and adaptation to our own case. Instead of a vague, half remembered, Jess than half comprehended storyj the life of Jesus, steadily meditated on, passes into the life of the Christian by an insensible but real transfusion. It is turned in carnem et sanguinem (into flesh and blood), into the very substance of all that ia truest and deepest in thought and heart. It illuminates, it warms, it invigorates, and by doing this it gives that inward proof of its own reality which has been most highly prized by the most devoted servants of God. As of old, so now it is true that the man js blessed whose delight is in the revealed law of the Lord, and who meditates upon it conscientiously. He is like a tree planted by the water side, who brings forth his fruit In due season; his leaf also shall not wither, and look, whatsoever ho doeth, it shall prosper.?Canon Liddon. Two Wonderful Texts. Two texts of Scripture there are, which, put together, I think are tho most wonderful in the Bible. The*y An ciiooaef o nhiiH lvine in the cradle. UV/ VM..V. ?o and a loving face bent over- it, and a sweet voice murmuring over its head. But I marvel with inexpressible surprise and adoration -when I f.nd who the Singer is, and v/ho is the child. , This is the first verse: "As on*? whom His mother comfortetb, so will I comfort ycu." The other verse 1 find in Zephaniah 3:17: "The Lord thy God in the midst oj thee is mighty; Ho will save, He wili rejoice over thee with joy; He will rest in His love, He will joy over the* with singing." Ob, I have though! Bgain and again in my history, of thU picture; and I am not too proud id pay my eyes have filled with tears oj amotion as I have tried to. comprehend bow the eternal Jehovah seems U Bing beside one who loves Him, as 1 remember how my mother used ti Bing restful songs of comfort besid< Dur bed on the old Sabbath nights? ?Charles S. Robinson, D. D. Epigrams From "Billy" Sunday. Mr. Sunday recently completed t month's revival campaign in Galesburg, 111. About 2500 were led tc Christ, and the evangelist was presented with a purse of $6340.71. b? lides raising $S50 for'the Y. M. C. A The following are quite character' Istic of Mr. Sunday: No one need be lost unless 1:< wants to be. Some are like a dam keeping mor out of the Kingdom of God. k God only wants you to turn awaj from that which does you harm, j I know there is a devil. I ce? his footprints in the faces of men and women. I would rather wall: over a rougl: road to Heaven than ride to hell on i fat fortune. I know there is a God, because 1 see Him in virtuous, happy, temperate, trusting lives. If there were ninely-nino good Christians in the church and oui hypocrite, you would see that hypocrite and not see the good. One "Little" Sin May Might a Life Never trifle with one sin. It is s little cloud which, as the poet has cq,-h mav hold a hurricane in its grasp. The next sin you commit ma> have a mighty efi'ect In the blightini of your life. You do not know th< streams that may flow from the foun tain; for sin is a fountain?not z mere act, but a fountain of evil.? Andrew A. Bonar. God's Unsclfisliness. Gcd takes nothing from us sav< for our enriching.?Home Herald. Cement Production in 1907. Reports from the Portland cenieni j..?AWr. r\f tho TTnitrw] fUataf; iildi I>IUU ULC1 C VI. ? cate that the total output in 1001 was 48.000,000 barrels, as comparer with 46,483,424 barrels in 190f> ant 35,246,812 barrels in 1005. Thi cement required for the Panama Canal is 4,500,000 barrels. The Commerce of Nciv York. Nearly one-half of the tota 1 fo;vis; commerce of the United S'ates goe; through the port of New York. A OUR TEMPERANCE COLUMN. REPORTS OF PROGRESS OF THE | BATTLE AGAINST RUM. I J "The Woman Who Drinks," by Grnham Hofid?This Weil Known Writer Tells of His Observations in New York City. The idea that a capacity to drink I much of many kinds of liquors is an ; additional attraction in a woman has j absolutely no foundation in fact. In | spite of any contrary opinions upon | her part, men do not think more 'favorably of a woman because she is able to drink, as great quantities of alcoholic beverages as they can. Even though they may appear to be glad of the opportunity to associate with her, and may dub her a "prince of good fellows," their interest in hei* usually ends far short of the altar. Men may like her well enough in a social way, but as a rule they don't care to marry her. They may be willing to spend their money to gratify her desire for drink, but they have seen the effect of liquor upon ; too many other women to want to : make a woman of this sort their companion for life. It cannot be denied that at the ,present time our opinion in regard (to drink has undergone a decided 'change. A generation or two ago even the best men got drunk with considerable regularity, and there were comparatively few people who amounted to anything who did not consume some liquor at least with their meals. Even then, however, women did not drink, and the woman Who entered a restaurant without an escort to order a glass of whisky I would not have had mucn reputation left to boast about. To-day these conditions ara changed. Men do not begin to drink such vast quantities of liquor, but in place of the two bottle man we havo the drinking woman?the woman who feels that she cannot go through ' with the duties of the day without a certain amount of alcoholic stimulant. To-<day nobody wants to do business with a man who is a hard drinker. Nobody tru3t3 him; nobody wants to employ him to work in any responsible capacity. If the business or professional man is known to bo addicted to the habit of drinking it detracts just so much from his earning capacity; yet, in spite of this change in public opinion, woman hae now entered this field, to vie with man in his drinking bouts. I suppose, as a matter of fact, a woman has as much right to drink as a man. If she wants to consume these alcoholic concoctions, from wine down to cocktails, or highballs, or even to clear whisky, she has the legal right to do so, and yet, as cannot be denied, it always seems worse to see a woman pour these drinks down her throat than it does when ii is a man who is doing it. Undoubt-* edly this feeling is due to that respec? for womankind that is inherent in all of us, and it is this se' .iment that ii partly responsible for the fact thai; good men don't care to marry women who are known to be addicted to thei drink habit. Such a man could not! imagine his mother with the bleary eyes, the uncertain sneech, and the erratic fancies of the drunkard. Vivid as his imagination might be, it would be impossible for him to picture such a horrible scene, and as he would not, dream of marrying a woman who would not inspire quite as much of his respect he could never marry ono who might bring disgrace into his home by drinking too great a quantity of strong liquor. If it is true that a woman has just as much right to drink as a .man, the sight of an intoxicated woman is certainly one of the sorriest things that the human eye ever looked upon. Moreover, the fact that the woman may be young and well dressed does not detract from.the horror of the experience. In fact, one has come to associate drunkenness in women with dirty, uncomely creatures, and any exception to this rule only tends to make the circumstance more conspicuous. To the man who goes about town, however, visiting the music halls and dining in good restaurants, this scene is by no means an uncommon one. In I fact, the sight of a woman drinking in public Is too ordinary an incident tc excite comment. It is only when the woman takes too much that the matter attracts attention, and yet, for some reason, men who feel the greatest respect for women never seem j to get used to it. They would not like I to seo their wives or their mothers in such a position. Even the mec ; who are willing to purchase drinks for women who want them would no! care to see their sisters in such company; for, outwardly respectful though they may be, in their owr heart they know that no woman adds i to her attractions by sipping highballs i or gulping cocktails in public, even ?l\ j a table in a flrst-class restaurant.? I New York Globe. I ' Great Temperance Address. An eloquent address on the dangei ! ; of giving alcoholic stimulants as z j medicine was conveyed in a New Yorl i i news item as follows: "Lizzie Arlington, of Jersey City i was declared a hopeless drunkarc to-day when she was arrested for the I hundred and first time. | "Ten years ago she was a beautifu! girl. She belonged to a respectable i j family. During a long illness she was i j kept alive by whisky. When she rej covered she was possessed by an ir| | resistible craving for the liquor . i Since then she has spent three-fourths of her life in jail. She is thirty-two \ but looks sixty. Her hair is gray ) j her face wrinkled and pinched, and . her body as infirm aa that of an octo! genarian." . Temperance Notes. [ I The "water wagonwins in old ' Kentucky. ' More than half of Missouri has ? gone dry. ? Many of the old-established dailies . and country weeklies lean stronglj i | to the temperance side. Out of every 100 patients that 1 i have had charge of at the London Hospital, seventy owe tneir m-neaiiii to alcohol. I do not say that seventy , are drunkards, says a prominent London physician. In Muscatine, Iowa, the closing ol the saloons Is due to the Billy Sunday revival meetings and the organization of a service league, headed by tin 1 rich lumberman, W. L. Rosch. ^ If any Christian citizen is in favoi I of license, high or low, how higb I should the price be fixed, supposing, , for instance, your boy to be the nexl victim of the accursed traffic? Iu some of the States active measures have been taken under'*he inter'"i1 ,u,? t/i o-iniress the OUllt? CUliiUiClVC ici ? vv w?.rr delivery of liquor C. 0. D. by tilt common carriers, and the revenue* . of the express companies and msyl\ order houses have suffered i*: cor ~eftueiico. 1 - - - . ' * . ' " " c~ \ ill CTK~>* II J vt* I te . * 1 I S>t(nbai|-a5cftcof ! INTERNATIONAL LESSON COM. MENTS FOR APRIL o. Subject: Jesus the Good Shepherd, John 10:1-18 ? Golden Text, John 10:11?Commit Verse 9? ^ Commentary on the Lesson. TIME.?October, 29 A. D. PLACE. I ?Jerusalem. EXPOSITION.?I. Jesns the Door, ^ | 1-9. Anyone who seeks to get access ; to the sheep In any other way than ' by the door, i. e., by Christ, ?* ' and a robber. The sheep can always I tell the difference between the true { shepherd and the robber (vs. 3, 4, ! 26, 27). Christ's sheep have six characteristics: (1) They know the Shepherd's voice (v. 4). Every sheep in the East, unless he is sick, recognizes his shepherd's voice as soon as .he speaks. Every one of Christ's Bheep recognizes Christ's voice. The true sheep recognizes Christ's voice despite all the destructive critics. (2) "The sheep hear His voice" (vs. , 3, 27). They not only know it, the? heed it. This is one of the surest tests as to whetner you are one 01 Christ's sheep. Are you heeding His voice? (3) "The sheep follow him'(4, 27). Wherever the sheep see the shepherd going they will follow (Matt. 16-24). The way may seem i dark and dangerous and difficult, but they "follow him." (4) "They kno* not the voice of strangers." A true ' sheep will not follow a strange voice. * The voice may seem soft and silvery. It matters not, it is not the voice of the shepherd. Those "Christians" who are forever running off aftei strangers, "just to hear what they have to say," are not sheep. (5) "A stranger will they not follow." Evidently many professed Christians are not sheep. (6) They "will flee from him." Jesus is also the door by -> which the sheep pass in. To what is iie the door? (1) To salvation, "By Me if any man enter in he shall besaved." This makes the way of salvation very plain and simple, just pass right in by Jesus Christ. The door is open to alJ, "any man."* Though a man be the greatest of sinners the door stands open (1 Tl. 1:15). He is the only door (Acta J4:12). Neither the law, nor the church, nor morality, nor baptism, nor a creed is the door. "I am the door." This door was opened by His atoning death (vs. 10, 11; Gal. 3:13; Eph. 1:7; Heb. 9:22). We enter It by simple faith in Him (Rom? 3:26,. R. V.; 4:3, 5; Eph. 2:8; Acts 13:38, -39). Any one who enters in by Jesus ? Christ will be saved, no one else will. .h (2) To liberty, "shall go in and out."" ^ The true acceptance of Jesus leade not to a life of fear and constraint, but to the perfect liberty of a child (cf. Rom. 8:15). (3) To security. This too is found In the "go in and out." The one who really enters by Christ is eternally secure (vs. 28, 29)? ^ (4) To satisfaction, "shall find pasture." There is no such pasture for sheep in all the world as the one who ' enters by Jesus finds. The pasture is "green" (Ps. 23:2). It is "good" and "fat" (Ez. 34:14; cf. Isa. 40:9, 10). II. Jesus the Good Shepherd, It* / 16. But Jesus is not only the door. He is the Shepherd also, "the Good Shepherd." False christs and leaders bad come claiming to be shepherds, but really thieves and robbers. The Pharisees were such. They came to'steal and kill and destroy." But Jesus' mission was glorious. "I came that tbey may have life, and may have it abundantly." Any of us then may not only have life, but have life : "exceeding," life "beyond measure."" Have you this su' -.bundant life.' So many have such a thin thread of / ! life. How abundantly we may have , life appears in Jno. 1:15 (cf. Col. ; 1:19; Col. 2:9, 10, B. V.; Eph. 3:1619). Then comes that great declaration, "I am the Good Shepherd." Tho i best exposition of those sweet words ! : is the one you will get upon your ; knees pondering them, ' /ning them ' ! iver and over. eonstai.iiV looking to God to let you into their wealth of | ' meaning. It is not only a wonder: fully comforting thing that Jesus says ( here, it is also an amazingly daring I : one. In the Old Testament Jehovah I is the Good Shepherd (Ps. 23; Isa. ' ! 40:10, 11; Ez. *34:11-13). If we i aspire to be true shepherds we i must be ready to do xhe same. If i at the approach of danger we leave the sheep and flee for our own safety J we are hirelings and not shepherds ' (cf. 1 Pet. 5:2). Jesus knows His own and His own know Him even as I the Father knows Him and He knows the Father (R. V.). Wonderful, who can fathom that depth and intimacy > of that knowledge? And there is life" j and eternal security in it (Jdo. 17:3; I 2 Ti. 2:19; 1:12). Ten great points i (about the Good Shepherd: (1) He f j knows the sheep even as the Father I knoweth Him and He the Father. (2) He is known by the sheep. (3) ' Has personal interest in each sheep 1 ! and deals with it individually?calls * ? j it by name (v. 3). (4) "Leadeth I them out." (5) Thrust forth the lag i [ card sheep (v. d. ioj uvenuuna 1 ] none, "all His own" (v. 4, R. V.). (7) "Goeth before them." He has j trodden every step of the way that I wc must take. ;S) Careth for the - j sheep (v. 13). (9) "Layeth down J His life for the sheep" (vs. 11, 15). ' | (10) Uiveth eternal andabunaant life ^ ; lo the sheep (vs. 10, 2$, 29). Jesus j has sheep outside of Israel (v. 1G). s j When He has brought them they will ? | become one fold lEph. 2:14, 15; j Gal. 3:2S). it is through hearing I ! His voice that they are brought. The j laying down cf His life was a perfectly voluntary act on Jssus' part* To Preserve the Eider Duck. 1* t Through the efforts of William 4 ! Dutcher, of New York City, an ati I tempt is being made to preserve and ' propagate the eider duck, now almost 1 ectinct. This bird was ones fouud in J I large numbers all over New England. I A bleak island near Grand Manan has been selected, and 100 birds have ! been placed there to start the work 1 ; In charge of Captain Frederick E. 1 | Small, of the Cross Island Life-saving . Etaiicu. t ' | 1 ! 1 Insanity in Alaska avows. Long winters spent in isolated ssc1 ! tions of Alaska have so greatly in * - ?- itu'inlfv ' I creased me perceiuiigc <?, that the Senate, in Washington, D. C.. passed a bill authorizing larsar i j expenditures for the maintenance of | the Alaskan insane. Th? five par I cent, of the license mp"?ys has i . *?n found insufficient for the (h'nuwi1.-. t Foreign Cook Library. New York City's public library fur- * 1 nishes more reading in more tongues j than any other library in the world. , In the Oriental de;alone I there arc 10..7.0 '.;oo! .... - A