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CHAPTER XV. 13
Continued.
When he arrived there ho found
Antoniette still sleeping.
Arthur stood looking down upon
the sleeping girl, and a strange dread
was slowly taking possession of him.
If Battiste was condemned, whom ho
knew to be innocent, what would be
the duty of this girl? Should he be
called upon to place in her hanc^
the instrument of a power of thj
oriein of which he knew nothine?
Was that power of heaven or hades?
He knew not. A terrible confiic
raged within him. What should ho
do? There was a fierce temptation
to destroy the fatal little talisman
that she had placed in his hands;
but was he justified in doing so? He
had an indescribable horror of allowing
her to exercise this power, but
for this scruple must an innocent
man die?
He looked down on her, on this
soft, lovely maiden, and a mad longing
came over him to seize her in his
arms and flee with her from this
dark, ill-omened place, to place her
in safety, and shelter her in his loving
arms from the evil of the world,
and the terror of the gift she had
inherited with her blood.
He walked up and down the room
almost heedless as to Antoinette's
sleep. Time passed on. The sunset
died away, and the quick gray twilight
covered the world and filled the
room. He could no longer see An
Ai'rifiHfl'e ffioA' nnlv tho otill mitlinn i
of her figure softly breathing. Then
he heard sounds outside, the echo of
many feet, and the old clock in the
nan trembled out its faint strokes.
It was eight o'clock; they had
come to carry away all that was left
on earth of Antoinette's father.
i\o one disturbed them. Doubtless
the kind-hearted women told the
Mayor that the young orphan was
still asleep, and that her fiance was
watching her, and he would let no
one intrude. He had a sympathetic
nature. He felt that if the noise of
their movements should awaken tlio
sleeping girl, that nothing would so
scften the anguish of that awakening
as the presence of her lover; and
with quiet, silent order the sad little
ciremony went on. The curious
crowd, which had gathered to gape
and stare, by the quiet authority of
the Mayor and the Cure resolved itself
into a nrnressinn. As thev
moved away, bearing their burden in
the midst of them, the Cura began to
chant the ' De Profundis." Arthur
heard the words as the chanting died
away in the distance, and he also repeated
them.
Presently Nanon came in with a
light. The poor old woman was hardly
recognizable, her face was so disfigured
by crying. She looked so
old and worn, her white coif was all
awry, and her grey hairs escaping
under it.
"Ah! my poor Monsieur," she said.
"Chn ctill cloftnc mv l?imh mv
Arthur felt very grateful to them
for coming back to him; it took away
the feeling of forlorn loneliness
which had been creeping upon him,
mf?i}';ig him dreatl Jie scarce.ty kJiew
.vb.'t.
KJLX\s OViit Ui/ iULUU) MAJ
precious one; but she will awaken
soon. Alas! if cne could sleep away
the griefs of earth, one would not
ask for Heaven. But 1 came to tell
you that Monsieur Tasset left a message
for you. He said he would come
back to see you. and Monsieur Is
Cure, both. They said they could
not go away happy -to-night before
they heard how our poor demoiselle
woke up, and how she was. So you
see, Monsieur. 1 got Catherine to do
a little cooking for me, and there will
be something to eat, for one must
eat, even though it may be the last
day itself. Ah! my sweet, my pretty
one," looking down on Antoinette,
"the longer thou sleepest the better."
The poor old woman lingered
about, evidently longing, not daring,
to ask something. At last she got it
out.
"If I might ask, Monsieur, if Battiste
will be home to-night? He does
not eat much, as you know, still a
cnesiDui soup is always comiorung
after a troubled day. But if he will
come to-night?"'
"Not to-night, Nanon," said Arthur,
with a feeling of choking in his j
throat. ' The business is not over
yet.''
"Do they still say he did it?" she
asked, twisting lier apron round her I
hands.
"Some do; hut, Nanon," and he
stepped forward and took her hands,
"all that man can do I promise you I j
will do to save your husband."
"God will reward you," she said. I
"Well, well, it is the first time he
has ever been away from me since
we were married; but what an old
fool I am to care so much for only
one night. I must go and see about
the supper," and she went away muttering
her words, "Oui dame; one
must eat thougn the last day be at
hand."
The time passed away. Presently
a little knock at the door announced
the return of the guests. Arthur
rose and went to them. They sat in
a sort of ante-chamber communicating
with the room in which Antoinette
lay. Old Nanon had prepared
food there, and they all sat down and
ate. Arthur left the door between
the two apartments a little ajar, that
he might hear the sound of moving
if she was to awaken. Not to disturb
her rest they moved quietly and
spoke in low voices.
The Cure sat opposite to Arthur.
He had a gentle, pleasant face, with
the kindly expression of interest in
all the world, worn so often by those
who have known no great cares, and
have traversed no heights or depths
of weal or woe.
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IGARETH MAJENDiE. HHMM t
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f "I fear, I greatly fear, in spite of
[ our conviction of his innocence, that
old Battiste will be condemned," said
Monsieur Tasset, mournfully. "I
cannot see who else can have been
guilty, although I feel morally sure
that he is not; but everything is
against him. It seems he has, without
the smallest scruple, said that
he possessed a duplicate key of his
master's room."
"A duplicate key!" exclaimed the
Cure. "Then why did he suffer the
door!) to be broken down?"
"He does not know what has become
of it. He will not, or cannot,
say why or when it was lost. He is
half in his dotage."
"But that he should have mentioned
that duplicate key does not
seem like guilt, and must be in his
favor," said the Cure, quickly.
"So it is old Battiste whom they
.accuse?" said a voice, very gently
and slowly, whose tones made all
three start to their feet.
It was Antoinette. She had come
into the salon and had heard the last
words. She was perfectly calm, but
she had pushed back all the fair hair
frnm hpr brow, and that and her
deadly pallor gave her a look of extreme
desolation.
Arthur advanced quickly to lead
her to a chair. She gently put him
aside, and leaning one hand on the
table, she said: "It was not Battiste,
Messieurs; of that I can assure you."
"If, Mademoiselle, you have indeed
any proof," said Monsieur Tasset,
eagerly, "then it may indeed save the
old man's life."
She sank into a chair, and her pathetic
eyes turned from one to another
of the three anxious faces.
"Messieurs?," she said, "tell me the
truth as vou hope for salvation. Will
Battiste be condemned?"'
A cold terror of what she might
be going to do or say struck upon
Arthur's heart. He spoke eagerly.
"Not necessarily, Antoinette.
Juries rarely convict on circumstantial
evidence only. There is an absence
of motive admitted, and we
have yet to communicate with your
cousin."
She turned her eyes from him to
Tasset.
"An Englishman cannot be fully
j conversant with French law," she
saici. 1 conjure you 10 ien me uie
truth. Will he be condemned?"
"I fear, I greatly fear," he stam-.
mered.
Arthur shrank back, shrank back
against the wall. He knew what wa;j
coming. She turned to him with her
eyes looking up to his, wild, despairing,
terrified.
"No! no!" he cried. "Do not ask
me! I cannot!"
"Your oath!" she answered, in a
voice out of which all tone had died
away.
"Heaven help me! Must it be?"
She only repeated once more.
"Your oath!"
As if under n resistless snell he
placed the talisman in her outstretched
hands. The silver case fell
to the grornid. In the dead silence
that followed, they heard the clinking
of the metal as it rolled away
from under, foot.
Antoinette had covered her facc ;
with her hands. She remained so for
some minutes, so long that Tasset
and the Cure glanced at each other,
fearful lest she should have fainted.
Arthur never moved. He stood fascinated,
motionless. He put his finger
to his l'p when they would have interrupted
her.
At last she put down her hands
and rose slowly to her feet, and the
three men started with a thrill. A
most strange and awful change had
passed over her, all the softness had
gone out of her face. It was hard,
rigid, carved in marble, like that of
Medusa. The large, gray eyes
strained wide open, the lips apart;
all the wild, fair hair, blown backward,
seemed to stand erect round
her head as if it had been a halo. She
saw nothing, heard nothing of those
beside her. Then for the first time
the two perceived that she held between
her hands, in a strange, stiff
way, a slender willow wand, and they
knew instinctively what it was.
"No, 110," cried the Cure, springing
! forward; but the Mayor put his hand
on his arm; he was watching with a
! strange fascination.
"Gently, gently, Monsieur le Cure,"
| be said. "Who dares say that this
! power is other than from Heaven!"
Then the Cure also drew back, aud
they stood watching. Antoinette
was on the scent.
CHAPTER XVI.
The night was dark and boisterous;
the moon passed fitfully in and out
from great banks of clouds. The
wind tore round them in violent
j gusts; but still the slight, dark figure
flitted on before them, and they
fnllnwnfl whercvpi' cho u'^nt Thrrn
was no hesitation, not an instant's
pause or turn. On straight she went,
like a sleuth-hound on the scent,
through the rough forest paths.
The trees parted to right and left,
they emerged into the open country.
Before them lay the straight highroad.
gleaming like a ribbon in the
moonlight; then to the right, high
| walls, on in front the lights and
! shadows of the trees. The three following
her breathed hard, but not
a sound came from their lips. She
went with a straight, swift motion,
so tranquil that at times they almost
thought that it was a vision thus glid;
ing before ihein. There were great
j iron gates in the wall. Arthur recogj
nized them at once, and knew, with
ja shudder, whither they were bound,
i The gates were partially closed, and
j yielded to her tcuch so swiftly that
: it almost seemed as if they flew open,
! at Ler iipproat'n of their own accord, i
ind they followed her Into the con
.erv.
Antoinette glided swiftly on. T
moon went behind a cloud, all w
shrouded in dark night; but her f
Lire was still perceptible, a dart
shadow in the darkness.
In the Chapelle des Morts t'
lamps were burning in red shad
They seemed like living eyes; tli
5hed a lurid light around, them,
Lhe gleaming altar, on the black v
vet pall which covered the bier lyi
before it, and to that bier Antoine
went onwards.
Arthur would have interposed,
seemed to him that it would kill h
that now he must prevent her j
ing on; Tasset put his hand heav
on his shoulder and almost held h
back.
Antoinette, cold and phantom-li
was standing over the corpse of 1
father, and the two pale hands wh
had been joined before her, holdi
the willow wand, drooped and f<
A strange- baffled look came over b
that yet had none of the reality
the real Antoinette in its moment!
weakness. Suddenly she stopp
She drew aside the pall that covei
the dead man's head and breast, j
thur bent forward, shuddering,
hold out his arms, lest the daugh
should fall back horror-stricken a
insensible; but he was mistaken.
A sound burst from her lips?
awful sound?that had a ring
exultation in it, and she seized uj
something that lay on her dead
tiler's breast. That something g
tered and shone in the red al
lights, and they recognized it sim
taneously. It was a diamond.
How it came there they knew e
I *nust have dropped from the m
dtsier's hand. Chance, or some
the Divine laws which govern chan
must have shaken it on to his gra
clothes. There was no time for c
jecture, for at the very touch of
the strange stiff tensixxn came b;
into Antoinette's fingers, they cloi
around the stone. Her eyes lool
once more straight before her, fi:
as in a trance, and she turned e
went on her way.
Arthur had scarcely time to repl
the pall with a reverent hand, i
passed by so swiftly; and he kn
that she was once more en rapp
with the man who had done the de
They shivered as they came <
again into the wild night.
She led the way straight into
forest again. The trees grew thi
er and closer; the boughs swa;
and seemed to clang harshly ov
head. When they reached the pi
which led to Von Repos, Antoine
turned off it to the left, and n
Ihey had left all beaten tracku
hind then;; but she was never a
loss and never paused, and where !
passed they followed close behind
There was always space enough
pass, though the way was tortu<
going from tree to tree. All abi
them the underwood was thick ?
tangled and must utterly have imp
ed their progress, but here it
evident that human foot must hi
trod this way before, and hun
hand forced a passage wide enoi
to pass, but unmarked to a carel
eye.
The trees divided at last, grew f<
er and more far between, then sw
back right and left, leaving bef
them a kind of glade or open spa
It was all bathed in floods of sil
moonlight, across which the shade
of the trees lay black and strong i
prison bars.
Antoinette glided swiftly over
moonlit glade.
They, following, were terrified 1
they should lose sight of her as !
once more entered the thickness
the forest.
There were traces here of a sm;
beaten, trodden-down path.
Before them rose a ruinous-lo<
ing building, half cottage, half hoi
The ground round about was strev
with the half burnt remains
charred wood; it was evidently
deserted abode of a charcoal burm
Antoinette, guided by the same i
seen power, went swiftly in, straij
no to one corner of the hut, a
there stood motionless. Her p
hands, holding the wand, fell as tl
had done before; she looked roi
her once or twice with almost
wildered glance, then sank hea\
to the ground in a death-like swo
Fortunately Monsieur Tasset ha<
box of fuses in his pocket. He stri
a light; they discovered some rov
candles in the place, at first the o
sight of human habitation.
To be Continued.
Ethics in Japan.
The Japanese have a code of cLli
that applies from birth to death, z
on through all eternity, which p
vides a rule for customs in dress, h
its, religion, morals and mannt
Each season has its own flower
decoration, its own religious obse
ances, duties and games. Twice
year you fly kites! Twice a year 3
play battledore and shuttlecock w
gayly colored feather cocks and t
tlcdcres done up ill silken raime
Once a year little girls play with
ancestral dolls brought out from
godowns (or storehouses), and lit
boys play with huge fish. Oncc
year you set your house in order ?
prepare food for the annual vlsi
tion of the spirits of your dead. 0
you clean house, and no unkind
thcrity intereferes with your putt
all your worldly possessions into
middle of the street, while you swi
all the bad out.?Outlook.
Conversation Schools.
TVhat this country of ours needs
day, along with several hundred th
sand other things, is a richly endov
system of institutions for train
the conversational powers. Mr. C
necie is giving away libraries by
score to train the people how to r<
and think. Who will come forwj
and found a chain of schools to te;
men and women how to talk?
are in a had way in these Uni
States of ours, a sad way, in the ir
ter of our daily discourse, what w
our profanity and our exaggerate
our weather drivel and our perso
health bulletins, our banalities ?
our brutalities. We need a doc
to treat our tongues for their cea
less, pointless, fruitless waggi
Who qualifies??Washington Star
The f>00th anniversary of Leij
University will be celebrated in 19
; 500,10! OUT OF WORK
he '
1" n NEW YORK CITY
;er
I
Must Dig Subways to Aid Unem03
,ey ployed, is Labor's Demand.
on
elng
CONGRESS DISCUSSES MATTER
tte
It i Central Federated Union Send Comer>
mittec to Albany to Ask Hughes
to Investigate Cause of Delay in
Starting Improvements.
lm
New Ycrk City. ? Declaring that
ke. there are more than 500,000 unem*er
ployed In New York City, and that
the letting of subway contracts would
l?s offer the most immediate relief, the
Bll
Central Federated Union voted to ask
er,
of Governor Hughes to investigate the
lry real status of the city's debt and
ed. Comptroller Met::'s reasons for dered
laying subway construction. A corner
mittee of three was ordered to go to
t0 : Albany to see the Governor.
fnr I , 1 j j _ ^
i *i ne coming paraae uuu ueuiuiisai atnd
tion of the unemployed of New York.
now scheduled for the afternoon of
-an Saturday two weeks hence, and the
of discussion last week in Congress of a
on labor leader's statement that there
f are 500,000 idle in this city alone,
~ brought the question of subway digllt_
ging home to every labor delegate,
tar and the report of the special commitul
tee was put through v.ith a rush. The
reopening of public works was deiot.
clared to be the first duty of the city
ur_ j in view of the number of unemployed.
0? | Representative Willett, of Naw
! York, stirred up Congress with a let'
ter of Samuel A. Stodel, secretary of
ve" the New York Council of Independon"
ant World Workers, giving the numit
ber of unemployed in New York as
ick 503,500. Of this number Stodel estised
mated that 147,500 are union raemce(j
bers and 356,000 non-unionists. Leadted
ers *ke Central Federated Union
I wpro nelrert fnr their estimates of the
Ln(* unemployed, and with few exceptions
they placed the number above 500,ace
000.
she "A conservative estimate, based on
iew a canvass of the delegates of the reort
spective uni6ns affiliated with this
e(j body, places the number of idle union
t workers in New York at 200,000,"
said Albert Abrahams, vice-president
of the C. F. U., "and if you count those
the working two or three or four days a
ck- week," declared Abrahams, "the numbed
ber will reach nearer 4 00,000. We
er- estimate the number of unemployed,
union and non-union, in New York
and the suburban cities and towns at
750,000. We are told here that of
. . :he members of the Pavers' Union, for
De^ Instance, ninety per cent, are idle;
t a the cigarmakers have one-third of
she their men out of work, the building
trades one-half, and the printers,
to compositors and pressmen, one3US
fourth."
out The Unemployed Conference Comd
mlttee, which meets in the Labor
. Temple in East Eighty-fourth s.treet,
ed" has determined to go to court, if necvas
essary, to obtain permission to asive
semble in the Union Square plaza,
lan The parade was to have been held two
igh weeks ago but was postponed, awaitPSS
ing the result of the conferences with
| the Mayor and Comptroller over pos_
| eible public improvements.
I EXPLOSION KILLS EIGHT.
,ce" Militia Guard at Natclioz, Miss., Folver
( lowing Wreck and Fires.
ike Natchez. Miss.?Eight persons were
killed, one was severely injured and
the Pr0Perty valued at many thousands
of dollars was wrecked as the result
of an explosion of gas in the basement
of a five-story building occupied
she by the Natchez Drug Company, at
of Main and North Union streets, near
the business quarter.
an, The dead are Cleve Laubat, Mrs.
Ketteringham, Miss Luella Booth,
0j{_ Miss Lizzie Worthy, Miss Carrie Mur"
ray, Miss Inez Netterville, Miss Ada
White and Elias Hotchkiss. The latfe<*
ter, a carpenter, ran from the build?f
ing and fell, breaking his ngck. John
the Carkett, seventy-one years old, suf?r.
fered fractures of both legs. He is
un. not expected to live. The wreckage
I caught fire, and a stiff wind carried
nd buge sparks to the north and west,
setting fire to eighteen residences,
aIe seven of which were destroyed.
iey All business has been suspended
md and the local companies of militia
be- were put on duty.
rily
?n- PHILANTHROPIST PENNILESS,
d a
1C^ Dr. Sill, of Worcester, Mass., Prodict'sh
ed His Death, Gave Away Money,
nly
Worcester, Mass.?At the age of
eighty-three, penniless and without a
relative to turn to for aid, Dr. John
Wellesley Sill, a well known philanthropist
and cancer specialist, has ayiics*
plied to the overseers of the poor
ind* here, having been in want for some
ro_ time, and has been sent to the State
. Poorhouse.
i A year ago he predicted his death
;_rs- I within six months, and in that exi.eei?r
j tation gave away all his property in
tv- Wales and in Toronto, and all his
s a ! money to friends and charitahlc in,'ou
! stitutions, keeping enough to live on
jtk ! for six months. The time expired,
iat_ j and his friends whom he had aided
n^~ ! refused to help him.
the
Russian Policy Pacific.
M. d'lswolskv, the Russian Foreign
[ Minister, at St. Petersburg, explained
! ^ Russia's desire to possess relations
ind With Japan by which the maintenance
ita-1 of peace in the Pacific might be made
ace certain.
au
ins Rhode Island Will Discover Just
the How Many Are Idle Perforce,
eep Providence. R. I.?As a result ol
representations of the labor unions
to the General Assembly that there
are 39,000 unemployed people in this
city the police of the five cities of the
to- State have begun an enumeration,
ou- This action is taken at the request
ved of George H. Webb, Commissioner of
jng Industrial Statistics. Means will be
i employed to get returns from the
' " country districts.
e 1 Habitual idlers will cot figure in
5a(* the enumeration.
aid ??
ich Newsy Gleanings.
We Texas reports an "orderly" lynchted
ing.
iat- Cleveland decided to close its
ith schools and spend $600,000 to make
,nB> the buildings safe.
nal Senator Johnston, of Alabama, oblI1(j
serves that Washington, D. C., has
tor no Sunday observance laws.
se_ Winchendon, Mass., rejects Mr.
Carnegie's $25,000 and will build a
fa' library out of its own hands.
James J. Hill discussed the business
outlook, saying conditions would
improve if they had au opportunity t-i
OV do so.
II The II
Sunbcn)-<?>cftoof
INTERNATIONAL LESSON COMMENTS
FOR APRIL 12.
I "
Subject: The Raising of Lazarus,
John 31:1-57 ? Golden Text,
John 11:25?Commit Verses 43,
44?Commentary on the Lesson.
TIME.?January, 30 A. D. PLACE.
! ?Bethany.
EXPOSITION.?I. Jesus Wept. 32|
3fi. Martha, having received from
i Jesus the consolation she sought,
: waited no longer, but hurried to Mary
; with the glad message, "The Master
I is here and calleth thee." Without a
j word Mary rises quickly and hurries
, to Jesus and falls down at His feet.
Mary had been at Jesus' feet before
j (Luke 10:39). Then she was at His
| feet for instruction, now she was
j there for comfort and help. It is
j those who. in times of prosperity,
; know how to sit at His feet to learn,
| who, in times of sorrow, know how to
find comfort and deliverance in the
! same place. There is no better place
: to go in sorrow. The day will shortly
j come when Mary will he at Ilis feet
I again in worship. Mary's cry at
j Jesus' feet is a deeply significant one:
I "Lord, if Thou hadst been here, my
) brother had not died." There seems
to be almost reproach in it. But she
j still calls Him "Lord." It is wonder
I more than reproach. Mary was in
] great perplexity over the death of her
: brother, just as we oftentimes are
, when our loved ones are taken away,
i It was an impenetrable mystery to
! this gentle-hearted woman. Why had
not Jesus come and saved? He knew.
It was that He might do something
; vastly better than they sought. They
i sought a brother saved from death:
, He would give them a brother trii
umphant over death. It was because
; He "loved" them that He had not
i come until Lazarus was dead (vs. 4;
6). It was also that God might be
; glorified (v. 4). and that the faith of
. the discinles might be strengthened,
j Christ often has many loving reasons
for His dealings with us when we can
| see none at all. Martha had uttered
; the same words at her meeting with
Jesus (v. 21). Evidently they had
J often said it to one another during
j those four days. But Martha had not
i fallen at Jesus' feet when she said it.
! That wouldn't have been at all like '
J Martha. She was a - practical, tin;
demonstrative woman. Jesus had
I given Martha a good deaj. He gave
! words of wondrous promise and
hope; but He gave Mary more?He
j gave her His deepest sympathy and
His tears (vs. 33-35).- "Jesus wept."
I am glad He did; and I am glad John
; noticed it, and that, when long years
I had passed and John was writing
j down what he recalled of the words
! and acts of Jesus, the Holy Spirit
| whispered, "Put t'.iat down, too,
John; 'Jesus wept.'" We need a
j high priest who can be touched with a
I feeling of our infirmities, and, thank
God! we have such an one (Heb.
! 4:15, 16). Mary's sorrow was not to
be of long duration; a few minutes
now and sorrow would give way to
' ecstacy; her sorrow, moreover, was
i founded upon a mistake. Neverthe!
less it was real, and Jesus entered
: into it and made it His own. True
| love doesn't ask how much founda\
tion there is in the sorrow of others,
i In all our afflictions. Jesus is
! afflicted (Isa. 63:9). However, I
I cannot but think that in Jesus'
| "groans" (vs. 33, 38) there was
j something more than sympathy. The
' word translated "groaned" means
j "was very angry." At what was
1 Jesus angry? At death, that great
| masterpiece of the devil (Heb. 2:14),
'which-had through the century had
I desolated so many homes and had
I now dared enter the home af those
j He loved (v. 5). But Jesus Himself
| will shortly have au awful fight with
this monster and conquer him. The
Jews interpreted Jesus' tears partly
aright. "Behold how He loved him,"
they said. But it was not only "him" '
He loved and therefore wept. There
are many to-day who regard tears as
| a sign of weakness. The perfect man
i wept.
II. "Take ye away the stone,"
27-41. What a wonderful interplay
| of the natural and the supernatural,
I man's work and God's work, there is
! in the great works of ChTist! Jesus
I in n V% rtn t rt r\/M*f ATI A A f U i C *"? * Aef
I Id (lUUUt LIT })CI 1UI ill unc \Jk ii JO UJVOb
: stupendous miracles: call back to life
( a man who has been four days dead;
j but what man can do, man must do.
i He alone can and He will raise the
I dead, but man can and man first must
take away the stone. There is many
a man dead in trespasses and sins today
whom Jesus wishes to get at and
raise; but He is calling to us, "Take
away the stone," and we don't obey;
so the man is not raised. What is
. the stone that lies against the dcor
' Df the cave wherein your dead friend
Jlies? Take it away. Ho* little Jesus
was understood. They fancy Pfe just
wants to get in and see His dead
friend. Even Martha, to whom He
has just declared.. "I am the ResurI
reclion and the Life," forgets and
I protests against the moving cf the
j stone. "He hath been dead four
j days"?as if it made any difference
to the omnipotent "Son of God." "the
i Resurrection and the Life," how long :
j a man had been dead. Why the time
is coming when He shall speak the
j word and those who have been dead
I four thousand years shall come forth.
111. "Lazarus, come forth," 4243.
"He that was dead came forth."
A plain, calm, unvarnished statement
I of a wonderful fact. The story bears
j the marks of its genuineness in every
I line. Who is He that by a word thus
j raises the dead? Only those who
won't see can question Truly this is
the Christ, the Son of God.
Microscopic Writing.
< George D. Cbenoweth, formerly'
{ constable of West Lafayette, Ind., has
j completed a remarkable feat of minI
iature penmanship, writing the Lord's
I Prayer six times, the Scriptural pasi
sage, "The Lord is my shepherd; I
shall not want," and his name and
J address all on a slip of paper the size
J of a postage stamp. The aceomplishi
rnent is all the more remarkable from
i the fact that Chenoweth is sixty years
J old. He wears two pair of glasses'in
I his microscopic writing, and uses the
! finest pen made. The total number
of letters on the slip is 1768, and
there are 441 words. Chenoweth is
Instructor in penmanship at Zion
Citv. ill. _
Pcncil Cut Out of Man.
A lead pencil seven inches long was
removed from the body of August
! Peterson, who was operated on at a
, hospital at Rhinelander, Wis. Peterson
swallowed the pencil while playI
intr nH l/onni'mr cnnfA PUricI _
?uu CVl-l C VUUCLmas
Day. The pencil passed through |
his intestines and into the colon, j
whence the surgeons removed it. The j
pencil still carried the brass-tipped j
rubber eraser, and not even the p'.-iut i
had been broken. I
THE CRUSADE AGAINST DRINK
PROGRESS MADE BY CHAMPIONS
FIGHTING T1IE RUM DEMON.
Why Ho Signed (ho Pledge?A Meet'
ing Disturbed, But a Drunkaw
Saved ? Stephen Black Knev
When Ho Had Enough.
#
As he entered the little study at tk<
church just before evening service
the minister found one of his mei
awaiting him.
"Pastor," broke out the man, in ai
agitated voice, "pastor, my brother
in-law is in there, full of liquor. He'
ugly. I'm afraid he's going to mak<
trouble. Hadn't we better get a po
liceman to come and clear him out?
"Why, no, George," said the min
ister. "I shouldn't quite like to di
that. You know he might hear some
thing that would do him good. Don'
worry. It won't kill us if he doe
interrupt us. We've been interrupts
before now."
It was a good congregation tha
the preacher looked down upon tha
night?a company of honest, self-re
specting, well-dressed working pea
pie, a large portion of them youn;
folk. But there in the forefront o
the audience sat the objectionabl
brother-in-law. Bolt upright he sal
with a flushed face, and glared at th
minister. "He certainly is about th
toughest, ugliest-looking customer
ever undertook to preach to," said th
young man to himself.
The first part of the service wen
very well.
But when it came to the preachinj
**-- ?V.o/3 nr\ ennnor h#o>n
111(3 wmisiei uau Iiu
than tlie man rose to his feet an
commenced speaking. "What he sale
or tried to say, no one knew, himse!
least of all. It was some mumblec
incoherent talk. But the young pec
pie, after their fashion,' straightwa
began to giggle.
"Don't laugh, good friends," sai
the minister, earnestly. "Don't laugh
This is a sight fit to make us weep!
A great, solemn hush fell upon tt
audience. The drunkard ceased i
speak and remained standing, tb
picture of a fool.
Now there was in the audience the
evening another man who for man
years had been the victim of tb
drink habit, one whom the minist*
had shortly before found drunk o
the street and had helped home t
his house. This man, going out wit
the crowd after the service, had e
sooner reached the sidewalk than Y
turned back, saying to a companioi
"I'm going to see the pars- ""
It was a sorry-looking fi^..re .thi
came to the study door?decent]
dressed, but shaky and infirm, wit
hair prematurely white, and a sallo
face marred and scarred by his vice
"Good evening, Mr. Black. Con
In, corns in* I'm glad to see yo
Have a chair," said the parson co
dially.
"Parson," said he, in a voice th;
6hooIi like a leaf, "I'm all ' Ice u
I've come to sign the pledge.
"Stephen, I haven't any faith
that pledge. What's a pledge? It
nothing but a promise, and a promii
too hard for vou to keep. You'1
signed it over and over again, ai
every time you break it within
week."
"I know, I know, parson! But tb
time I'm a-going to do what I nev
did before. I'm going to give n
heart to God before I sign th
They prayed together. The parse
with his arm round him, prayed fi
liim; and the man prayed for himsc
with a new note in hie tremblii
voice. Then he signed the pledge.
"What's got Stephen Black?" ask<
the minister a few weeks later. 1
haven't seen him for some time."
"No, pastor," said one of the me
"and you will never see him roui
here again."
'"Never see him again? "What (
you mean? He hasn't gone to tl
bad, has he?"
"No, but he's dead and buried."
"What!"
"Yes, pastor. Monday he was tak<
sick. They carried him off to the ho
pital. He died within twenty-foi
hours, and they buried him rlgi
away. But," said the man, "he nev
drank another drop, and he died
Christian man." ? Youth's Cor
panion.
Extract From a Famous Decision
"In view of these holdings, bas<
as they certainly are, upon good re
son and sound common sense, it mu
be held that the State cannot undi
? HftAnca /lolaorgfo tfl 11
LUC guise U1 a 11V.CUUC ug?
saloon business a legal existenci
because to bold that It can is to ho
that the State may sell and delega
the right to make widows and o
phans, the right to break up home
the rigbt to create misery and crim
the right to make murderers', tl
right to produce idiots and lunatic
- the right to fill orphanages, poo
houses, insane asylums, jails and pe;
itentiaries, and the right to furnis
subjects for the hangman's gallows
. "With due appreciation of the r
j sponsibilities of the occasion, co;
; scious of my obligations, under oat
| to Almighty God and my fello\
man, I cannot by a judgment of th
court authorize the granting of a s;
loon license, and the demurrer to tl
amended demonstrance is therefoi
overruled, the amended remonstrant
: is sustained, and the application
dismissed at the cost of the appl
cant."?Judge Artman.
Eretver in Favor of Local Option.
Adolphus Buscb, millionaire brcv
er, of St. Louis, was quoted in an ii
terview as saying that he favorc
local option and partial Sunday clo
ing. "I am in favor of local option
said Mr. Busch. "If a saloon is ol
noxious to a community, let it I
voted out."
Temperance Notes.
The Southern States, owing 1
their peculiar social conditions, ai
practically "dry."
The Atlanta Georgian, Memph
News-Scimitar and Kansas City St?
will not print whisky ads.
The sharp fall in whisky stock
said to be due to the temperani
wave in the West and South.
The cry that the rights of saloc
* * * V^rictilo
proprietors are invaueu uj uvw^.v
islation has ceased to worry pol
ticians.
Political economists may differ ;
to whether or not trade follows tl
flag, but nobody questions the fa
that poverty and crime follow the s
loon.
In Kentucky distilling continue
but there are few counties in whic
the sale of liquor is not prohibited.
The liquor traffic is to-day tl
heaviest clog upon progress and tl
deepest disgrace of the ninetc-ent
century.?New York Tribune.
Any man who will vote to ket
a saloon in his commuuily becomes
]i?rty to every crime committc
through the influence of that salooi
?Kentucky issue.
' |
J jfee'evkfeSl- I
; ffCCCfr-bia I
3 JESUS MY ALL. I
i To-day, to-morrow, every day,
His will is best. ' H
j He is my Lord. H
He knows my every secret sin * M
And all the rest? H
B Ambitions hijrh, the deep desires, Mj
And conflicts sore, S
- And thouch He baffles my designs,
" I love liim more. ^ ffl
, To-day, to-morrow, every day, .1
He is the same, H
" He is mv Friend. fl
t More gentle than a mother, He, ? H
s In times of pain. , SB
3 lie helps me us I'm needing help J?
With ready will, B
t And though He knows me as I am, Bg
t Hi loves me still. J0
IB
Yea, Lord and Friend and Saviour, too, H
Js Ho to me? i
2, My all in all. H
f Fvom Heaven He camc for sweet love'# H
e sake, n
. To make me free. Qfl
His heart is warm, and true, and big, BB
e Full as the sea,
e And though 1 cannot tell you how, 9
1 He's life to me.
e ?E. LcRoy Dakiji, ia Home Herald. H
' ~
t The One He Loved Best. gflj
"Freddie, whom do you love best?^ H
"You? But, mamma dear, there'*
n somebody I love best." H
d . "What, somebody you love better JH
' than mamma?"
'f "Yes," answered Freddie, lingering' H
over the word, and looking earnestlj H
> at his mother with great blue eyes] H
y that seemed to ask her not to teef H
burt at his preference for another. Kg
d "Why, Freddie," she asked, "who tt
it that you love better than mamma?* fifl
"Jesus,'' was the unexpected reply, H
^ and the little boy's voice was verj H
1 i-Vk nnwiA Thfll* KK
v sweei as IIO iuc uarnc. iuvi?
e the mother's heart was very glad, (ot H
she had often talked with her little H
it one3 about this Friend of little chll^ H
y dren, and she wanted them to love M
e Him best of all. R9
One Sunday evening, about six H
n weeks later, Freddie's mother found* mm
:c under her door a note which readj B
h "Go at once to the hospital. FredJ H
c arick is very sick." She bad seen het H
1(? boy at noon and hAd been told that H|
o. he would undoubtedly get well. He
had been sick a couple of days, an<? H
this was his first day in the hospital) D8j
With all possible speed she went t<r 8g
the hospital and made her way to thf H
^ ward where her precious child waf Hj
s lying. "How is he;" she inquired or B?
i? - the doctor. "He is a very sick child,' O
was the grave answer. 'Does that M
r' mean that he will not recover?" she
asked. "That is what it means," the H
doctor replied. KB
P< Turning at once to the child, thf SB
mother said, "Freddie, do you remem* H
ln ber telling mamma that you loved Hg
is Jesus best of all ?"
" "Yes." hhi
vt "Do you still love Him best?"
^ "Yes," was the reply again, and hlf H
2 tono indicated surprise that mamma
could think it possible that he had
1< faltered In his allegiance.
ei "Do you want to go and live with- EH
15 Him?"
"Yes, I do," and there was no mistaking
the sincerity of the little child, HE]
)t "Well, darling," the mother said,. H|
01 trying to keep her voice bright ano
(1' cheerful, "you are going to live wltl^ Km
ig Him. He has sent for you, and yotr M
are going to-night, and you will neve/
-d be sick or unhappy any more." nH
"J The child's face lighted up wltl? H|
eager expectation. "Oh," he said/ EX
"He lives up in the sky, doesn't He?
id 1 want to go right straight up.' flgj
"Mamma," he said a few minuter
lo later, "I want my shoes on; my feet
" will get dirty." He would not soif jN
his feet in the weary ascent that hr BE
thought was before him. "Noj k9
? v.,-q mnthcr finnllv Raid; HI
Uctl HUg) UiD UlWbUVt 1
5? "your feet will not be dirty, tot ?M|
s* mother will carry you and hand you; BjB
up to Jesus." Then he was afraid" fcffl
hi that tho ice-cap on his head might H|
ei leave some stain, or that there mlghv ^B
a be some speck of dirt on his face/
Q* he must be perfectly clean when- iEBK
Jesus saw him. His mother reas* KB
eured him by telling him that he waf ^B
clean. ^B
Then he would say, in a tired llttlf. ^B
voice, "It takes such a long time tc HB
a* get up, doesn't it, mamma? I won- BP
st der if He will let me in when I gef; B%|
51 up." "Of course He will let you ini ^B
le darling," his mother answered, "foi ^B
He loves you and He has sent for you SBB
' to come and live with Him." ?39
t<? Presently he asked his mother tc |ffi
r' iell his father to come and live witlr BH
s< Jesus. "And you must come, too*
e< mamma," he added, in a voice thaf HI
16 was very bright and happy. "Ye* VB
dear, I will come, too."
r* For an hour there was no sound
except that of the labored breathinv ^B
Df the little boy. Suddenly, there wai
profound silence. The beautiful eyer- -HH
e' flew open and the expression ol HH
a" rapturous delight, of wonder and aw4
? and perfect love and satisfactior
K.' I spoke in no uncertain tones to th<
13 j mother's heart and comforted her a( IBfiS
a" nothing else could have done, as sh< HH
realized that her darling was fad B0
re i to face with the One whom he loved
'P ! ..--1. -a _,i T?1? T3lioc Wnlrl inland. ISSB)
, j IJf SL U1 till. U U 1 U JJllog A Aw*tw>
. In the Christian Herald. j|9[
rajl
Begin With What We Have. jH|
God calls us to duty, and the onlj
p. right answer is obedience. Undertake
the duty, and step by step God
:d will provide the disposition. We can
c. at least obey. Ideal obedicnce in<
eludes the whole will and the wholi
'0. heart. We cannot begin with that
,6 But we can begin with what we have,
It is better to obey blunderingly than
not to obey at all.?George Hodges. BKfl
:0 Spiritual Life. Mfi
*e I try to increase the power God
has giveu me to see the best in every BHj
is thing and every one, and make thai
tr best a part of my life. To what if
good I open the doors of my being,
. and jealously shut them against wbal
:f is bad.?Helen Keller.
m Wortli of Prayer. SH
I . T3,?T-n?. ic wnrth tirecisely what
g- j riajvi ? t .
i-1 the prayer will redeem it at, in worth, Ml
according to his light, ability and op* Hfefij
fcortunity.
le B9
ct Tuberculosis Colony Farm. HlHj
a" A farm colony for the after care of
tuberculosis patients is planned by
3f directors of Eudowocd Sanitarium, at
b Baltimore. The undertaking is alto- K3|
gethcr new. Land near the present KU
Institution will be leased, on which
patients discharged from Eudowood"
. with the disease apparently cured or,
arrested, will be able to work in the HBfl
open until all traces of the disease HI
!P i have been eradicated.
d !
a I'ritisli Sordine Take.
Four hundred millions of sardines
j are taken yearly off English coasts. Wafl