The Abbeville press and banner. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, September 23, 1908, Image 6
\ His O'
h
| A PSYCH<
i By S,
CHAPTER II. 2
What had become of him? sh<
asked nerseit, tninking at tne sam<
time that he must return to releas<
her, and ready to reproach him foi
leaving her atone at all,- tied up ii
that ridiculous manner.
But where had he gone? Sh<
looked out over the line, but at firs
he was nowhere to be seen. Thei
suddenly she spied him coming uj
out of a hollow, out of earshot al
ready, and walking on steadily, bu
walking, alas?oh! most inexplicablt
fact?walking away from her! "Les
lie! Leslie!" she called again, thougl
she knew he could not hear her.
A swarm of flies buzzed up into th<
air from the warm leaves about her
o startled by the shrill and sudden cry
"Leslie! Leslie!" she reiterated
struggling franctically to disengagi
herself, though she knew that the om
effort was as futile as the other
Then the impulse to struggle and cr;
was over, and she drew herself u]
against the post, a changed woman ii
these few minutes, in a changec
world!
ine cana naa just caugui auuu?;
butterfly. It was under his hat 01
the grass, and he was sitting besid<
the hat, holding it down with botl
dimpled hands in a determined way
calculated to give a spectator a vas'
idea of the strength of the creatun
beneath.
Every now and then he tilted th<
hat up a little bit, and craned dowr
his neck, so as to peep under, till a'
last, catching a glimpse of his prize ir
a moment of oblivious excitement, h<
lifted the hat entirely, when th(
pretty prisoner immediately spreac
its painted wings and fluttered off.
The child watched it for a momenl
with a ludicrous expression of dismaj
on his countenance, and then scrambled
up and toddled on in pursuit
losing his balance often on the un
equal gi-ouna, ana periormiug *:
much of the distance on his hands
and knees as on his feet; while his
mother in turn watched shim, ii
watching it can be called when the
eyes involuntarily convey a record oi
what is passing to the brain, and
write it there for the use of recollection
by and by, the mind being absent
at the moment, and all unconscious
of the process.
The child had crept and toddled by
this time to the nearest line of rails,
on the polished surface of one of
which he now sat. He had forgotten
the butterfly in the exertion of following
it, and was looking about for
some new object of interest when his
mother called him. She did it by
force of naDit ana mecnanicany:
"Boykins, come to mamma.!"
The boy turned to her with the
beauty and innocence of an angel,
and the merry mischief of a healthy
little mortal on his face, and laughed.
"Boykins no go to mummy," he
lisped. "Mummy naughty. Mummy
put in a corner."
"Yes, Boykins, come to mummy.
Poor mummy a prisoner."
But the boy only laughed again,
throwing himself back on the rail,
and kicking his plump legs about. It
was too good a joke this! Mamma a
prisoner, papa gone, and Mr. Baby a
gentleman at large! He couldn't enjoy
it half enough.
His mother had called him mechanically,
as we have said. Her mind was
for the moment paraylzed by the
shock of the situation in which she
found herself. She felt that something
had gone wrong; she knew she
was in trouble; but what was wrong,
and wherefore the trouble, she had
not vet been able to think.
Another shock was requisite to adJust
the balance of her disordered
thoughts. And presently it came.
Glancing away from tlie child for a
moment, her eye was caught by a
dark body that was rising up into the
empty sky from the heath far away,
low down, close to the verge of the
horizon on the left.
She saw it at first, as we constantly
see things which bear no reference
to ourselves, and offer at a glance no
feature of special interest to fix our
attention. She looked at it, and she
looked away; but the heavy opacity
of the thing had impressed itself on
her retina, and glance in what direc
tion sne would it was tnat sne saw
darkening all other objects.
Something unusual in this phenomenon
made her look back to ascertain
the cause of it, and the slight effort
of the will this act necessitated was
sufficient to rearouse her dormant
mental energy.
What was the thing? A pillar? A
cloud? Why, both, of course! A pillar
of smoke! A cloud of smoke!
But how did so dense a cloud of
smoke happen to be there? Coalsmoke,
too, far from any human habitation,
and rising apparently from
the bare brown heath. Another sense
helped her to answer the question for
herself?the sense of hearing, upon
which there now smote a rumbling
sound as dull and heavy to the ear
as the massive pillar of smoke had
been to the eye, a sound which she
had been accustomed to all her life, a
familiar rush and roar, the cause of
which she had not even to ask herself:
but its very familiarity made it
strange to her now, because of a certain
new significance, and also the
time and place.
It was as if she had acquired another
sense, which enabled her to per
ceive for herself something she had
ftnly hitherto heard of; and the new
feature in this familiar objcct was
that of danger.
She was little more than a girl herself,
finely nurtured, delicately bred,
full of youth and health and strength,
but. unaccustomed to horrors, and untried.
She was bound fast to that
t 'li'^raph-jjosl. so fast that the agony
of the strongest impulse in life v/ould
r.oi have availed to loose her.
She was a mother, and her little
child was rolling his sturdy limbs
?u tho iron rail not half a,dozen
d
0
ill r
1
c
K a
< t
!il| h
a
yards away from her, and filling tlie b
3 air with gurgles of happy laughter. c
a She was a sensitive, delicate, femii
nine' thing, who could not have borne | s
[ IU StJfc? Llie itJctst ULLit; ticaiuic DUUCI , ^
i and she knew that what she saw b
there, that long, sinuous, oscillating ]j
? object, thundering on relentlessly d
t with rush and roar and grinding a
i weight of hardest metal making the h
j earth tremble, was a train, which in
. another minute must mangle her tiny s:
t human hjossom before her eyes, un- ci
5 less there was a God in Heaven or a
. any power on earth to be summoned v
i by her shrieks, and moved to pity by p
her frantic struggles. "Leslie! Les- e:
5 He! Baby, baby! O God! O God!? d
f My child!" n
But neither God nor man heard
her; and the child, frightened by her o
a cries, sat up and looked at her, but tl
a would not move, while the long train a;
came on at a terrific rate, rushing si
j toward him. si
3 Shriek upon shriek, shriek upon a
! shriek, the wretched mother sent up le
1 to Heaven; and the solid post to
which she was tied rocked again with tl
r the fury of her struggles, but the cord h
i did not give an inch. It had cut b
3 through the sleeves of her summer ti
i gown, and into the delicate flesh of u
her arms, but she felt no physical w
I pain. The awful torment of terror b
3 was upon her, and all other forms of u
suffering are as nothing to it. w
? As it approached, the train uttered si
i a shriek like a hideous mockery of oj
t her own, which it drowned, so that st
i she could not hear herself. It seemed ?
; as if its speed increased as it neared o'
; her, rushing along in a cloud of dust, ni
[ It was coming?it had come?it
had passed?it had vanished. And it
t the poor tortured mother, a sorry, oi
r disheveled figure, a ghastly caricature si
. of herself as she had been only an it
hour before, was still enough now. tc
Her head had sunk on her breast; al
j her eyes were shut. She was con- si
j scious, but she could not stand; and fe
j it was the cruel cord, eating further tt
into her flesh as her weight sank upon tt
? it, which for the moment supported
' her. st
le
CHAPTER III. ot
; It was a little laugh, a tentative m
1 little laugh, only wanting an excuse st
to become a cry, that roused her. a*
""Mummy frightened by the puff- w
puff! Mummy frighted by the puff
puff!" ei
1 She raised her haggard eyes, dully ra
at first, without intelligence; but on a ri
sudden a great light of joy flashed bl
1 into them, a joy which was as sharp at
a pain for an instant as the fear had
been. The child was still sitting on ai
the rail unharmed. w
1 The train had gone by on the other
> line! But the relief was little more 1U
than momentary. She only recovered w
from the first excess of terror in or1
der to fall into another agony of g(
mind, a horrible agony of suspense.
The boy would not leave the line, and
the same danger threatened always U]
while he remained there. m
The emergency was developing a d?
hitherto unsuspected strength of tj,
character in her. There was little iE
enough she could Jo, but what was
possible under the circumstances she }a
did with admirable presence of mind.
She tried coaxing first of all?"Dear
Boykins, come to mamma!"
1 He only looked at her. w
"See, mummy has hurt her arm. go
Come and kiss it and make it well." ej
He looked at the arm, but seeing ar
it was bleeding, drew the corners of m
his mouth down into an expression ac
of disgust, but moved not. jn
"Mummy will cry if baby won't sh
come to her." But baby turned his as
resolute little head away and pretended
not to hear. "I know such a
nice story," the poor mother began
again. The little fellow looked out ta
over the heath intently, but she could sr
see he had pricked up his ears. "It is ar
all about a little boy who went for a ^
walk one day with his father and t0
mother?"
"Like me, mummy?" the child ex1
claimed, forgetting his pretended preoccupation
in the interest of this ^
erreat discoverv. I
"Yes, just like you. And it was a {s
beautiful, warm day, and the sun was cc
shining, and the birds sung little
songs to each other, and there were nc
butterflies?" 0f
"And what did he do?" the boy W(
demanded, his interest fully aroused
by this time. He was sprawling on
1 his stomach now between the rails, js
with his hands folded under his chin co
to raise it that he might look up at va
his mother, after the manner of the
cherub in the picture known as the q.
Sistine Madonna.
"I can't tell you what he did if you m
stay there. You are too far away." j-j
"No, me not," was the decided re- jn
ply. "Me hear oo." w
' Then she answered in a very low
voice, only allowing him to catch ca
enough of what she said to tantalize jj,
" him. He turned one ear, making a
great attempt to hear at first, but <
presently he tired of the effort. hi
"Boy lirrtrr that story," he inter- UJ
rupted contemptuously. lj,
"Boy tell it oo." m
"It was evident she must change
her tactics. "Did Boykins nee the big
niiff-nn ff clip liofnn "An
! other big puff-puff Is coming directly. 0i
Koykins must get up at once, this b\
very moment, and come to mummy, f,
els<! it will kill him dead, and mummy ni
will have no little boy, and then what fr
will alio do?" ni
The child looked at her dreamily, "(
but did not. move; and now she saw wi
something in his eyes that made her C<
redouble her efforts to entice him to w<
her. The young rascal had nestled sn
himself into an easy position. tu
The warmth and stillness, with the Y<
day's fatigue, were telling upon him.
A genUe languor appeared in his eyes,
a gathering unconsciousness of all lis
external things, partial at first and M;
intermittent. but presently dcscend- j in
ing like a dark curtain, veiling thclfif
istance, and then the nearer glimpse
f gorse and fern, the bottom of his
lother's dress, the bright shining
alls beside him, till all the world was
lotted out by the grateful, impenerable
blackness, the voice that called
im trembling away at the same time
ato a more and more immeasurable
ast, from which at last it ceased to
ome at all. The child slept. But,
las for the mother!
Again and again she called him.
ler throat was parched and sore;
er voice came hoarser and hoarser;
rticulation grew gradually impossile,
and at last sound failed, but the
hild never moved.
His rosy face was turned to her,
till resting on his chubby arms. He
ras slightly flushed with sleep. His
right lips were parted, showing the
ttle white teeth between. His long
ark eyelashes flickered a little now
nd then as a fly lighted on his foreead
or glossy, clustering curls.
A lovelier child it would be imposIble
to imagine, such a child as only
Dines to young and happy parents;
nd the mother, in a worn-out inter
ai, wnen xne aesire as wen as luo
ower to struggle and cry were both
xhausted, found herself perusing the
etails of his beauty as if it were all
ew to her.
While so engaged she forgot her
wn position and his for a little; but
ie rush of recollection caught her
gain inevitably, and then her frantic
truggles were redoubled, until it
2emed that if deliverance were not
t hand death must come and resase
her. t
And it was strange that during all
lis time sh^ never once thought of
er husband It was evidently not a
usy time on the line. Only that one
ain had passed as yet. She had
incied a hundred times that another
as coming; but as none ever came,
y degrees the danger grew less
rgently present to her mind, and
hen at last the unmistakable sound
note upon her ears, coming in the
pposite direction this time, she
arted into full consciousness again
-for a dull torpor had been stealing
per her?as if the possibility were
ew to her.
The train came in sight, but she deided
herself with the idea that this
tie also must be on the other line,
ie was so sure of it that she watched
coming, and collected her strength
) make a desperate effort to attract
Mention to her strange position,
tie watched it until it was within a
iw yards of the sleeping child, and
len she saw her mistake, and it was
ie last thing she did se<\
For in the same instant, and before
ie could utter a sound, her senses
ft her. The train swept on as the
her had done, crowded with people,
any of whom must have seen her
anding apparently leaning at ease
;ainst the post, and any one of
hom would doubtless have flown to
jr assistance could they have
lessed her need; but in the duBt
^ised by their rapid progress and the
ish and whirl of it nothing was vlsie
long enough to attract particular
tention.
The engine-driver saw her as ho
jproached, and saw, also, a speck
hich he supposed to be a summer
ran of hers lying on the line, but
rgot the circumstances before he
as well out of sight.
To be Continued.
jwing Or.c Seam For Fifteen Years.
"The ease with which people can
:come habituated to any kind of
^interesting work, no matter how
onotonous it is, may be seen every
ly in any shoe factor," says a gensman
connected with this St. Louis
dustry.
"In a shoe factory the division of
bor is carried to the utmost possle
extent. As a rule, one operative
:rforms one operation and no more,
iiere is one woman in our employ
ho for fifteen years has sewed the
am which begins at the right of the
'elets, runs to the top, then around
id down on the other side. The
achine works so rapidly that she
itually spends almost as much time
picking up and laying down the
toe and adjusting it to the machine
i is required to do the sewing, and
is work she keeps up day after day
?' -'1 Vniixt. flno
uii tiiu; ?ui Ring nuuio. vuv
ight suppose the monotony of the
sk would wear on her health and
lirits, but it does not seem to do
lything of the kind. She is one of
e most cheerful women in the faery."?St.
Louis Globe-Democrat.
The Dog in "War.
Another field of usefulness has
;en found for the deg in war. He
already employed as a scout. He
now to serve in the ambulance
irps. Two French army surgeons
r/e taken up the question with earjstness,
pointing out the limitations
human agency in collecting the
ounded, of whom, after every enigement,
large numbers go to swell
e dismal list of the "missing." It
contended that dogs of keen scent
mid with proper training render
Liuable aid.?New York Tribune.
indlepo'.ver of Modern Lighthouses.
A comparison has recently been
ade of the power of the lights in
rench lighthouses at various periods
tiie past ttiirfcy-five years, in isn,
hen only oil lights were used, the j
Sliest power was e.fual to 54,000
ndle3. J11 1S.S2, when the electi*
;ht was introduced, the power rose
a maximum of 820,000 candles,
nee then frequent improvements
ivo been made in the electric lights
itil, at present, the most powerful
;hthouses project an illumination
:arly equal to 3,000,000 candles.
Frightened by a Lutin Name.
How to warn off trespassers withit
spring guns has been discovered
a canny peasant in the south of
ranee. Iiis woods, were invaded by
it pickers. He asked a botanical
iend the Latin name for the hazel
it, and put up the following notice:
Caution?All persons entering this
nod do so at their own risk. The
nrylus Avellana abounds here, as
oil as other equally venomous
lakes." Not a trespasser has venrod
into the wood since.?New
ark Tribune.
A Turkish irade has been pubihed
ordering the purchase of fifty
nxjm Kims in uormany ana coumerrtudiiiK
the contemplated order for
ty French Ilotclikiss guns.
Advice About Silk.
A silk buyer in a department store
has this advice to give in regard to
the making up of silk:
"Large pins or needles make permanent
holes in silk fabrics, and, if
extra large, break the threads; then
the silk tearseasily. Putnew needles
In the sewing machine before working
on new silks. With old needles,
only slightly blunted, the-silk Is certain
to pucker and draw.
"Be careful In pleating or ruffling
that the iron used is not too hot. An
overheated iron will crack any silk.
Always wear good shields, and avoid,
if possible, much trailing of silk
gowns, as the fabric frays quickly."
?New Haven Register.
Special Savory.
Cut into half-inch square pieces an
onion, a seedless green pepper, a
seeded tomato, a cored apple and, if
possible, a small piece of garlic. Melt
a large tablespoonful of butter in 8
saucepan, add above ingredients,
sprinkle over two tablespoonfuls oi
flour. Lightly stir and add a pound
each of raw lean veal and pork cut
into one - inch squares, and half a
pound seeded eggplant cut into threequarter-inch
pieces. Season with t
teaspoonful of curry powaer, a saixspoonful
of salt, a half-teaspoonfu:
of pepper and cook for ten minutes
Moisten with a pint of water. Tie Ir
a bunch a sprig of parsley, a sprig ol
thyme, a bay leaf and place In pan
Cover pan, boil for five minutes and
set in oven for an hour, being careful
to mix once in a while. Remove, take
out boquet, arrange with boiled rice
and serve.?New York World.
Cleaning Paints.
Oil-painted walls must be washed
with soap and water, using a -sofI
flannel cloth, and taking care tc
wring it well before using. Use cold
w^ter to finish, and dry well with
linen duster. ,
Varnished woods should be rubbed
with a chamois leather wrung out d 1
cold water, then polished with soft
duster.
To polish a varnished floor rut
well with equal quantities of beeswax
and turpentine. Another method
Is to take equal parts of olive oil and
spirits of turpentine, wet a soft cloth
with these, rub the wood hard, ther
rub with a dry cloth. This is alsc
good for black walnut furniture and
sewing machines.
Where paint in stained with smoke
some ashes or potash lime may b<
.used. A soft linen cloth should be
used for wiping dry.?American Cultivator.
Dust Preventive.
To prevent making a dust ir
sweeping use moist sawdust on bare
floors. If the room is carpeted, moisten
a newspaper and tear it intc
^mall scraps and scatter upon the
carpet before beginning to sweep. As
you sweep, brush the papers along
by the broom, and they will catcfc
most of the dust and hold it fast. Be
careful, however, not to have eithei
sawdust or paper dripping wet. Ir
dusting a room do not use a feathei
duster, because it does not remove
the dust from the room, but onlj
brushes it into the air, so that you
breathe it in or it settles down, and
then you have to do the work ovei
again. Use soft, dry cloths and shake
them out the window frequently, 01
use slightly oiled or moistened cloths
and wash them out when you have
finished. In this way you get the
Idust out of the room. Many a piece
of expensive bric-a-brac has been broken
by the use of a feather duster.?
American Cultivator.
Relishes For Meats.
It is always a puzzle to know jus1
what relishes to serve with meats
The Detroit News Tribune tells ol
these:
Witn roast Deei, graieu iiurbe
radish.
Roast veal, tomato or horseradisl
sauce.
Roast mutton, currant jelly.
Roast pork, apple sauce.
Roast lamb, mint sauce.
Roast turkey, chestnut dressing
cranberry jelly.
Roast goose, tart apple sauce.
Roast canvasback duck, apph
bread, black currant jelly.
Roast quail, currant jelly, celerj
sauce.
Roast chicken, bread sauce.
Fried chicken, crcam gravy, corr
fritters.
Roast duck, orange salad.
Rcast ptarmigan, bread sauce.
KnJl f/\r? rriT O eflu/tQ fovfovc
V/UIU UUUCU lUllgUC, VM,* WMI V
or olives stuffed with, peppers.
Pork sausage, tart apple sauce 01
fried apples.
Frizzled beef, horseradish.
Pork croquettes, tomato sauce.
Corned beef, mustard.
Lobster cutlet, sauce tartare.
How to Pack a Trunk.
It is quite an art to pack a trunk,
and women may be hired for this
purpose. The first thing i3 to supply
yourself- with plenty of tissue paper.
Put in the bottom of the trunk articles
which will not be injured if
wrinkled. You may put all your underwear
and shoes in the bottom.
Fill your shoes and slippers with tis|
sue paper, or you may put your stock
iags inside the shoos. On tbo top of
the underwear place your heavy tailor-made
suit, and above that your
Ions, heavy coat. Above them lay
your gowns. Fold the skirts carefully
lengthwise, and then turn the
top over so as to make it fit the length
of the trunk. In packing waists lay
the sleeves flat, in order that they
may not be crushed, and stuff tissue
paper into them. If you wish to take
special care of any gown or waist,
lav if in the Imvpr trav. Place tissue
paper over and below the contents of
I this tray, in the upper tray put your
hats, each one covered with tissue
paper, and also pack the crowns. In
this tray also place your ribbons,
veils, collars, ties, etc. It is unwise
to pack bottles in a trunk with handsome
gowns. The handbag is the
best place for these.?Buffalo Courier.
k igggKEMml
( As effective method or treating
leprosy, especially the nervous vari<
ety, has been found by Professor Dey<
eke in a substance which he hai
called nastin.
As a result of investigation by offi.
cials of the Signal Corps, airships
may be used to aid in the wireless
telegraph service of the Government
They may also be called into use
against smugglers who may try to
carry on operations in flying ma'
chines.
A noted Belgian bacteriologist, Dr.
Leon Bertrand, claims that he has
; discovered a much more powerful serum
as a cure for pneumonia than
that now in use. It is a bactericidal,
not an antitoxic agent.
In the manufacture of alcohol from
?. peat a Danish company, with one ex
perlmental plant in Denmark and one
: In France, has found the cost to be
t about one-fourth of that made from
notatoea.
I *"
1 Undoubtedly the Jungfrau Railway
Is the most remarkable railway in the
i world, even in its unfinished state.
Its projector, Herr Guyer-Zeller, aci
cording to the Captain, was not an en
gineer, but a financier. The story
I j goes that he was enjoying a stroll
. ! down the mountain path which leac'i
> ! from the Schilthorn to Murren, and
f j that in the course of it, with the
J Jungfrau steadily in the front, the
I' I inspiration suddenly came to him to
1 | scale the majestic peak with a railJ
j way.
J An Improved apparatus has been
! made by Dr. Fritz Lang, of Munich,
i by which the inside of the stomach
[ j can be clearly photographed.
J HUNTING WILD HORSES.
|
i A Favorite Sport in New South Wales
?How the Animals Are Broken.
[
Whether "brumby" is a survival
of the aboriginal name for a wild
horse or a corruption of "unbrand(
ed" appears to be a question which
philologists have left undecided, but
L brumby hunting is still a favorite
sport in New Sou,th Wales.
Districts like the Clarence and Ste(
j phens and Manning River watershed
( j are still the home of numerous
I ! droves of brumbies, and hunting
j them is declared to be a very exhila,
I rating pastime. The first step taken
} is to stake out a corral and make
j all secure except a narrow entrance,
which can subsequently be gated. On
either side of the entrance and projecting
from it funnelwise a "booby
fence" is prepared.
To the simple minded brumby it
1 presumably looks like a stockade,
! and pieces of fluttering cotton make
it look impregnable. When this is
1 ready the young bloods, well mount1
ed, gallop out and round up the wild
| horses, driving them with shouts
' and much loud snapping of stock
1 whips toward the mouth of the fun;
nel.
In a group of brumbies there is
1 always a leader, and when*once the
hunters, have got the leader heading
1 for the corral they are pretty certain
of the rest of the drove. The flut'
tering cotton rags of the sham fence
' are sufficient to determine the brum!
bies from breaking through the flim|
sy barriers, and in less time than it
takes to tell the wild horses are safe'
ly corralled and the big gate shut on
! them.
Then they are left for four and
I twenty hours without food and water
to reflect on the situation, and after
' that they can be broken in without
I much difficulty.?London Standard.
Story of the Newbury Coat.
! j Buckland Hall, Berkshire, wttch
I was offered for sale at Tokenhouse
' j yard, was built at the beginning of
the eighteenth century. A former
' I owner won fame on account of a sinj
gular wager he made. It was that
II he would sit down at dinner at 8
| o'clock in the evening in a coat which
i was a growing fleece at 5 o'clock the
I same morning.
The wager was taken. Two sheep
' j were shorn, and the fleeces were submitted
to all the necessary treatment,
I and at night he sat down to dinner in
1 i a damson colored coat with about 100
minutes to spare. The coat and the
' articles used in the various processes
to insure its completion are still preserved,
the garment now being
1 known as the Newbury coat.?London
Standard.
Can't Sell Dirt as Potatoes.
1 ' Steps are being taken by Kansas j
! authorities to regulate the question i
I of how much dirt will be allowed on
I potatoes which are marketed in that
State. If too much dirt is shoveled
into a sack of potatoes, it means, according
to the Kansas laws, adulteration
of the potatoes. A ruling of this
J kind has been made by the Kansas
| State Board of Health. The violation
comes under the pure food and
health laws, which require that full
net weights be given in selling foodstuff.
Dirt, according to the new
; ruling, will not hereafter be perj
mitted to go in as a part of the net
| weight of potatoes.?American C:;>|
cer.
A Valuable Flock.
j There was a. sudden change in the
! wind, and the pastor of the Mount
j Zion Chapel saw that some of his
! parishioners drew their wraps about
I their shoulders. lie paused in his
i
; sermon.
"jOruddcr "Wilding," he said, raising
his voice and waking the old sexton
from peaceful slumbers in the
rear pew, "Brudder Wilding, be kind
enough to close all de winders on the
eas' side ob de church. De wind ha?
come round, an' we cyan't afford tc
lose a single lamb from dis fold b>
"lrclessncss, wid an outstanding debi
i'ii dis chapel, an' two families moved;
0.it o'o town."?Youth's Companion.
Australia has the best hardwoods
for railroad sleepers; over 800 tons
nf these have recant I v bssn sbii ii?'i i
! tbeuce lo Sau Francisco.
TweoJdZ^t
TELL ALL YOUR TROUBLES TO
JESUS.
Tell all your troubles to Jesus,
His sympathy reaches so wide:
He well understands without telling, ..
But blessed it is to confide.
He holdeth you close to His bosom,
And biddeth your sorrow to cease;
He whispers 01 joy everlasting,
He whispers of comforting peace.
Tell all your troubles to Jesus,
A wonderful Saviour is He;
He went' to the depths of all sorrow,
And knoweth the strength of your plea.
Oh, surely 'twill help ycu to tell Him,
And lean on the arm of His might;
He promised His yoke should be easy,
His burden, He said, should be light.
Tell all your troubles to Jesus,
Our pitiful Saviour so strong,
Abundantly able to help yon,
And willing to banish the wrong.
Oh, deem not that you are forgotten,
Though weeping your sight may bedim,
But tell all your troubles to Jesus,
- For there is compassion with .Him.
?Mrs. Frank A. Breck, in the Christian
Herald.
Would Not Slight His Work. ?
A prominent judge, living nejyr
Cincinnati, wishing to have a rough
fence built, sent for a carpenter, and
said to him:
"I want this fence mended to keep
out the cattle. There are some un-1
planed boards?use them. It is out |
oi sigm ox me nouse, so you neea
not take time to make it a neat job.
I will only pay you $1.50."
However, afterward, the judge, !
coming to look at the work, found !
that the boards were planed and the
fence finished with exceeding neatness.
Supposing the young man had
done it in order to make a costly job
of it, he said, angrily:
"I told you this fence was to be
covered with vines. I do not care
how it looks."
"I do," said the carpenter.
"How much do you charge?"
asked the judge.
"A dollar and a half," said the
man, shouMering his tools.
"Why did you spend all thfit labor
on the job, if not for money?"
"For the job, sir."
j "Nobody would have Seen the poor |
work on it."
"But I should have known it was
there. No; I'll take only one dollar
,and a half." And he took that and
went away.
Ten years afterward the judge had
a contract to give for the building of
certain public buildings. There were
many applicants among masterbuilders,
but one face attracted attention.
It was that of the man who
had built the fence.
"I knew," said the judge, afterward
telling the story, "we should
have only good, genuine work from
him. I gave him the contract, and
it made a rich man of him."?Home
Herald.
The Best Remedy.
Dr. Talmage once told a story of a
.soldier in England who was brought
by a sergeant to the colonel:
"What," says the colonel, "bringing
the man here again? We have
tried everything with him."
"Oh, no," said the sergeant.
"There is one thing you haven't tried.
I would like you to try that."
"What is that?" said the colonel.
Said the maffc "Forgiveness."
The case had not gone so far but i
that it might take that turn, and so
the colonel said:
"Well, young man, you have done
so and so. What is your excuse?"
"I have no excuse; but I am very
sorry," said the man.
"We have made up our minds to
forgive you," said the colonel.
The tears started. He had never
been accosted in that way before.
His life was reformed, and that was
the starting point for a positively
Christian life. Oh, church of God,
quit your sarcasm when a man falls! j
Quit your irony, quit your tittle-tattle |
and try forgiveness. God, your mother,
tries it all the time. A man's sin |
may be like a continent, but God's
! forgiveness is like the Atlantic and
Pacific Oceans, bounding it on both
sides.?Home Herald.
Counting Our Mercies.
There is one kind of mental reck- i
oning in which every Christian be- |
liever should be proficient?and it is, j
In reckoning up the mercies which a j
kind Providence continually sends. '
Count your mercies, for as you do the ;
mercy will grow. As sorrow brooded j
over seems the worse so grace medi? |
tated over appears the more lovely, j
ivtmAi'/Mifl nn/1 Gainful rirQtlf llHo llJIQ
atiuus auu iicipLui. viiuwvuuu MMW I
sometimes been defined- as a lively j
sense of favors to come, but it is cer- j
tain that the very effort to recall the j
favors God has shown in the past I
both honors Him and prepares the j
mind and heart the more intelligent- i
ly and profitably to use such blessings
as may yet be in store.
The Glowing Coal.
A pastor once visited a member of
his church whose pew was more often
vacant than occupied. He found him
seated in Ms Home oetore a cneeriui
fire. Without saying a word he took
the tongs find removed a live coal
from the fire and placed It alone
on the hearth, watched ,it turn from ,
the red glow of heat to a black,
charred mass. The member watched
the proceedings with interest, and ,
finally said, "Sir, you need not say 1
a single word, I will bt! there here- j
after."?H. V. Tanner.
CJod Chooses Our Neighbors.
We are willing to lovo our neigh* i
hors if we can choose our neighbors. I
riut that is just where God tests us. I
He gives us neighbors whom we nat? {
urally would not choose, in erder to |
teach ns to act upon the real neigh- I
bor rule of helping the man next us, |
whoever he is. Until we do this, our I
neighborliness is but a sham, not the |
Christian kind.?J. R. Miller.
j
So Referendum For Elijah.
Elijah did not nave to wait for a j
referendum before he began his work ,
of reform.?Home Herald.
Frightened to Death.
A Coroner's jury decided that Fred j
C. Singleton, who died suddenly in i
Newport, Ky., came to his death from i
natural causes and not as a suicide, j
The man while under a physician's j
care at his home was visited by two j
officers in uniform to procure an af- j
fidavit against the alleged slayers of j
his father. The sudden appearance j
of the officers produced heart trouble !
and in the man's enfeebled condition i
/I'nieorl liic- /looth fhfe TVOO tlin toe. I
tinionv of thp physician0. Insurance i
to the amouut of ?G000 will be paid ;
the widow. i i
a
ii ? wwwbbp|
i srfe \ i 3
Sun&ai(-^clro;o(?
1?1
INTERNATIONAL LESSON C03I*
MENTS FOR SEPTEMBER 27.
Subject: Temperance, Is. 5:11-23?
Golden Text, Prov. 20:1?Commit
Verses 22, 23?Comments
on the Lesson.
TDIE.?760 B. C. and 1908 A. D- %
t'LACE.?Jerusalem and all lands.
EXPOSITION.?I. The Woe of
Those Who Live Intemperately, 111.7.
God pronounces six woes upon
His people because of their Bins. Tho
first woe is pronounced upon the
greedy monopolist. Verse 8 gives a
very graphic picture of a large class
among us to-day who count themselves
happy, but Jehovah pronounces
woe upon them. More and more wilt
this be true as time passes, even as It
r>nmo to noco <n Topiiaalom The BPC
ond woe is pronounced upon those
who live for the gratification of appetite.
The description of the drunkard
In verse 11 exactly fits our own
day. The rising sun sees the wretch- ?
ed victim of alcohol up searching for
an open saloon; he hasn't slept much
and now wants a drink to steady his
nerves. But he is not only up early ?
but tarries late into night till wine '"*/
inflames him. He is burning the .V
candle at both ends and will soon - ^
burn it out. Oqg pronounces woe f,
upon every such an one. And the
woe never fails to come. It Is a slg- ,
niflcant fact that after speaking la
general terms of the ruin of Judah
(vs. 1-7) such frequent references
are made to drunkenness. It Is clear
that the prophet Isaiah (as well as
other prophets) considered Judah's , :
fall (and Israel's) as due largely to
intemperance (see also <$. 28:1, 7, 8;
Hos. 7:5, 6. The effect of wine is te
"inflame them." It inflames the
stomach, the blood, the eyes, the
brain, the vilest and fiercest passions
of the soul and kindles the fires of
hell. The man that fools with wine
is fooling with a fire that has caused /
the costliest conflagrations that the
world has ever known. In verse 12"
we have pictured the veneering of art
and refinement with which drunkards
seek to cover their beastliness. Music
Is constantly prostituted to become
the servitor of beastliness. While
these ancient sinners gave themselves
over to aesthetic and sensual lndul- '
gence they forgot "the work of the
Lord" (cf. Job 21:11-14; Am. 6:4-6). /.
One of the most serious evils of theuse
of wine Is that It leads men te
forget God. A fearful doom awaits /
all those who forget God (Job 34:24- -U
27; Ps. 28:5; 9:17). The consequence
of their Intemperance and forgetting
God was that God's people ?
had "gone into captivity" (v. 13).
The world to-day Is full of people:S|
who have gone Into the most degrad- .
ing and painful captivity through the'
same two causes?Intemperanc9 and
forgetfulness of God. The immediate
cause of captivity was "lack of knowledge."
Knowledge of the truth Is liberty,
ignorance of the truth is bondage
(Jno. 8:32; cf. Hob. 4:6; Rom.
1:28; 2 Th2S3. 1:8). The next result
of Judah's intemperance was that
"Hell (or Sheol, the underworld)
enlarged her desire, and opened her |
mouth without measure." Hell yawns
wide because of intemperance and the
glory of the multitude and the pomp,,
and he that rejoices among us Is descending
into it. All classes are
brought down by this sin (v. 15).
Not only the insignificant and con- *
temptible, but the great and lofty are
humbled. But in the midst of all this
humbling "Jehovah of hosts is exalted."
He is exalted by the judgment"
He brings upon the offenders . <
(cf. Ez. 28:22; Rev. 15:3, 4). As He
Is "the Holy One" (R. V.), His Holiness
shall be manifested in the righteous
judgment He brings upon offenders.
As the final result of Israel's intemperance
and forgetfulness of God
all the splendid estates and palaces of
Judah should become waste and the '
feeding place of wandering bands.
This is now literally fulfilled and
there is a real danger that all the
present splendor of our own land
shall some day become a feeding
place of flocks and tramps from similar
causes.
TT Th/> IVnfl nf Tlinsn Win rtivft
Themselves Over to Sin, 1S-23. The
third woe is pronounced upon those
who are so thoroughly given over to
sin that they tug away at it to seo
how much the> can draw (v. 18).
The use of wine leads to this devotion
to sin. In their enthusiasm for sin
they mock at God and His Word and
say: "Let God hurry up with His
judgments and let Him hasten His
works that we may actually see It and
not merely hear about it. Let tho
purposes of the Holy One of Israel
of which we have heard so much actually
come to pass" (v. 19; cf. Jer. ..
17:15; 2 Pet. 3:3, 4). Such mockery
of God's word and God's judgments
Is common among drunkards. The
fourth woe is upon those who "call
evil good, and good evil, that put
darkness for light and light for darkness."
This displays a determination
in sin that i3 wellnigh hopeless (Matt.
12:24, 31). This complete perversion
of the moral judgment often results
from the persistent use of liquor. The
fifth warning is one greatly needed in
our day (v. 21; cf. Prov. 28:12; Ro.
1:22). No man is more likely to be
wise in his own eyes than the drinking
man. He laughs at all warnings
against the dangers of strong drink.
The final woe is pronounced upon
those who pride themselves upon the
amount of wine they can drink and
the strong drink they can mix and
"walk off with." The inspired prophet
says that this Is not aa accomplishment
to be_Droud of.
Britons "Want to Racc Again.
Unable to rccover from the shock
following the failure of England's
far-famed long distance runners to
finish anywhere near the front in the
Marathon, tho London News lias offered
a $.j00 prize for a repel it ion of
the race, wilii the runners of every
pnnnfrrv piim'M". The News is con
fident that the English runners could
do better it the rare xvefe re-run. It
proposes to follow (lie samp course
over which John J. Hayes, the American,
won the Marathon.
Flit About King For Fashions.
King Edward met with all sorts
of annoyances in his visit to Marienbad
from thr.se who seek not only
to copy the King in the matter of
clothes, but al3o in his walk, gestures
and mannerisms. Every morning,
when the King appeared on the public
promenade, tailors from Paris,
Berlin, Vienna. Budapest :in<! other
European capitals nitieu aimui mm,
making notes of his attire and
sketching those suits which appear
unusually smart.
Meat Consumption Increases.
Tlio consumption o? meat is on the
ncrcasc i:i Germany.
/ ' k