The Abbeville press and banner. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, March 17, 1909, Image 2
n
LADY
(
THE SEQUE
<
BY MRS. <
?
CHAPTER IX. 11
Continued.
Janet stood in the hall when she
had managed to twist out of her
mother's hold. Her eyes had a wild
snarkle in thpm. dazzled from the
night; her hair "was hanging dank
about her shoulders; her hat tied on
with Mr. Blackmore's handkerchief.
She looked dazed, speechless, guilty,
with fear in her face -and in her .soul.
She looked as If she might be?have
had the habit of being?struck and
beaten, standing trembling before
her mother, who had never harmed a
fly in all her gentle life.
"Mother, we went too far; and
then the?woman came out?the?
the lady, and said I was too tired. He
was to drive me home."
"Well, and that was all? God be
thanked there has been no accident.
But where is Tom?" f
"Mr. Tom is just coming up the
avenue, my lady," said one of the
men.
"Then all is right, and there was
re&Hy nothing to be afraid of," said
Lady Car with an agitated laugh.
Was Janet to be let off so easily?
She stood watching her mother with
uneasv susnieinn. while all attention
was diverted to Tom, who jumped off
his horse in a similar pale suspicion
and fear, but with brows lowering
and eyes half shadowed by the eyelids.
Tom had made up his mind as
he came along what he was to do.
He did not wait for the fury which
he felt sure was ready to pour forth.
"It wasn't my fault," he said, with a
gleam of his shadowed eyes to where
Beaufort was coming in behind him.
"She had made up her mind she
would see the mare, and I had to take
her. I knew it was too far. "
Janet stood aghast with her mouth
open, taking in every word. A cry
of protest rose up in her breast, which
she had just comprehension enough
to stifle. "Never mind just now, my
boy," said Beaufort; "all's well that
ends well, but you have given your
mother a great fright. You can tell
me after how it was."
"I'd better tell you at once," Tom
repeated. "She had set her heart on
^.seeing the mare. There was no harm,
I suppose, in telling her about the
mare. And I thought she was more
game than she is. That's all about it.
I thought we could have gone into the
stables without seeing?the people
you made me promise about, Beau.
But I couldn't help it when I saw how
tired she was. And Charlie drove her
home?that's all.'"?
The cry of protest in Janet's throat
did not get utterance, but it produced
a gasp of horror and astonishment as
she stood staring in her mother's face.
She could not look at Tom. Lady
Car was looking at him unsuspecting
with her faint smile?that smile
which Janet felt meant something
more than any one thought. And
there was no more said.
CHAPTER X.
Janet went upon no more expedi
tions with Tom. His lie struck her
like a shot going through all her defenses.
She had almost lied for him,
according to Charlie Blackmore's instructions;
lied, or at least suppressed
the truth, giving her mother to understand
that there was no purpose
at all in their ride, but only that they
had gone too far?to save him, that
he be not blamed. But when Tom
arrived with his lie all ready, in
which there was no hesitation, Janet,
standing aghast looking on, too much
startled to contradict him or say a
word, felt as if he had suddenly
landed a blow at her, flung an arrow
like the savages she bad read of?
which went through and through,
cutting not only to her heart, but to
the last refuge of her intelligence?
the recesses of her not too lively
brain. It was not only pain, but a
painful desire to understand, which
moved her. Why did he do it? What
did he mean by it? It seemed almost
impossible to believe that it was only
the familiar childish efTort to clear
himself by blaming her: "It's Janet
?it's not me." She had said herself
in the nursery days, "It's not me?
it's Tom," in the sudden shock of a
fault found out. Was that all he
meant, or was it something more?
Tom's explanation afterward did not
mend matters.
"Well!" he said, "it was you?you
know you wanted to see the mare. I
told you you wasn't game for it, but
you swore you were. And whose
fault was it but yours for breaking
down and letting it all out??spoiling
my fun in every way. For the Black|
mores are as proud as the devil?"
"Don't speak like that," cried Janet,
with a shudder.
"They are, though, just as proud as
the devil, thoueh thev're nnthinc hut
horse-coupers. I knew I was done for
.when I said that I had given my
word. The old man fired up like a
rocket, and I'll never be able to go
there any more?which is all your
fault."
"B.ut, Tom, jf you gave your
word?"
"Don't be silly," cried Tom; "that's
not like giving your honor between
you and another man. What's Beau?
He's like one of the masters in school.
They know you don't mean it; they
know you'll get out of it if you can,
and they're always on the watch. Not
the least like another fellow of your
own sort that you give your honor to.
Of course I should keep that. But
mother or Eeau are quite different.
You're forced to do that, and they
know you never mean to keep it all
the time."
This reasoning silenced Janet,
though it did not-convince her. She
did not know v/hcrt reply to make. A
boy's code of hflnor was a thing she
did not understand, and she had always
beer, accustomed to serious discrepancies
between his ideas of what
? /
CAR;
>r.
L OF A LIFE
OLIPMANT.
i was meant by a promise, and h
own. Their training had been t
same, but Janet had always dumt
in the depths of her mind put a d
ferent meaning to words from th
which Tom adopted. It was possit
tnat nis point or view mignt De ng
?for him?about giving one's wo
to a master or to Beau; but her mil
returned to the question that co
cerned herself, with a keener sen
ment.
"'I don't know about that," s
said, "but you needn't surely ha
said it was me!"
"Why, I did it?to please you
cried Tom. "I thought you'd rath<
They can't do anything to you. Ai
you never promised. And they ci
do a deal to me," said the boy, i
flectively. "They can stop all my fi
?or nearly. They've got all e
money, and whatever I say, it do
matter. People will take Beau's wo
sooner than mine. But they can <
nothing to you?a girl at horn
Mother would never put you on brei
and water, or Bhat you up in yo
room, or that sort of thing. You
have a jaw, and that will be a
Now, they would never let me <
with a jaw. I thought you'd be t!
first to say I should put it upon yo
Jan."
Once more Janet was silenced. S!
felt vaguely that to take it upon lie
self, and to bear the blame throv
upon her by another, were two d:
ferent things, but at the same tin
she felt the imputation of not havii
put herself in the breach at once
defend her brother. She had do;
so to her own consciousness, faltt
ingly putting forth Charlie Blae
more's fib. But Tom did not knc
that, and he thought her ungenerot
wanting to vindicate herself, n
ready to screen him; so that she w
silenced on all sides of the questio
and could not make any stand. B
in her heart, Janet still felt t]
startling pang with which she bea:
him make his excuse. No doubt the
had been already similar crises
her life; but she was no longer
the nursery age. This made her le
anxious for his company during tl
rest of his stay before he went ba<
to school; though Janet was sfani
to his side, and refused to breathe
word to his disadvantage?even du
ing the serious -'jaw" which she t
ceived. Even Lady Car's ""jaw" wi
very mild. She put her arm roui
the passively resisting girl, and talk*
to her of what was a woman's duty
"A sister is such a thing for
hoy!" she said- "Often,' while 1
will not listen to anybody with ai
thority, he will listen to his siste:
if, instead of going with him on wi!
expeditions, she tries to persuade hi
the other way?rather to go wli
her."
Janet listened with a great Bent
of wrong in her heart, but she r
strained everything that would har
Tom. All that she said was:
"We went out merely for a rid
mother. We did not mean?to i
anywhere."
"I am willing to believe tha
Janet," said Lady Car. And thei
the incident ended, but not the effec
of it. Nothing more followed, Indeei
till Tom had gone, but the next d?
after that, Janet, going t<4 her cousin
at Dalmylian, where she was allowt
to ride alone upon tne old pony, su<
denly came upon Charlie Blackmoi
walking along the road. She recoi
nized him with a leap of her hear
Oh, would he stop and talk? O
what would he say to her and she 1
him? It was with terror, yet wll
a thrill of pleasure as well, thi
Janet saw him start, as if he hs
suddenly seen her, and stand sti
until she came up. He meant 1
keep up the acquaintance it w?
clear.
"Miss Torrance, I scarcely hope
I would have had this chance,
seemed owre good to be true."
"Oh, yes, it is me," said Jane
embarrassed.
"You need not tell me that; I sa
it was you as far off as e'en coul
carry," said Charlie, forgetting h
dramatic start. "I hope you are qui'
well; but I needna ask, for you']
blooming like any rose."
Janet felt herself grow red in r
ply to his compliment. She kne
that she was usually pale, and did ni
bloom like the rose, but it was kir
I of him to say so. She had a coi
sciousness that in booKs girls ha
generally" things like this said 1
them, and she was not ill pleased.
"I hope," said Charlie, "all passe
off well, Miss Janet, yon night."
"Oh TP? " cniri Tnnof "nuito uroll
"Mr. Tom never came back to bi
us good-by: and 'deed it was bett<
j not, for there's always a rabble <
loose fellows about a stable yar
and he was just as well away. Your
lads at his age are better to ke?
out of mischief?as long as the
can." .
"Tom has gone back to school
said Janet demurely.
"Dod," cried Charlie, "it's a drc
thing to hear of a lad going to scho'
that's man-grown like Mr. Tom.
: had the care of all the beasts on n:
hands at his age; but he'll be goir
in for Parliament and that kind
thing, and much learning no doubt
"Oh, no," said Janet; "he says it
tc*j much sop. He would like to t
with the horses best."
"And you are fond of horses, to
Miss Janet?" said Blackraore v/il
an ingratiating tone. "We've got
bonnie wee beast yonder that wou'
just do for you. If Mr. Tom wei
the master himsel' I would ask hi
to Rend it over to let you try it. It
a bonnie little thing just fit for yoi
riding. But I daur not take such
liberty," said Charlie, "while tl
:iuld folk are tnere."
"My mother is not old," raid Jam
I with some indignation.
j "Na; not her ladyship; but there
? more than her. I would like to let
~ you cee that little beastle, Miss Janet.
Some day If I should be thlB way
with her?would you mount and try?
You're too good a rider for an old
brute like that."
"Oh, mother would not be pleased,"
cried Janet alarmed.
- "It would do her ladyship no harm,
^ for she need never see?I'll take my
chance; if you will but say ye would
like to see her."
"Ob " said Janet. But some
one just then appeared on the road,
and Blackmore took off his hat and
hurried away. The girl was much
disturbed by this encounter; bul
?r there was something in the little mystery
of it that pleased her. She went
' y on to Dalmylian with her heart beat"
ing a little, thinking that Mr. Charlie
, was very kind. He was a man much
kip
older than Tom?almost twice as old.
~T And he was a handsome fellow in
his velvet coat, with a blue tie which
was very becoming, and blue eyes
which seemed to say a great manj
things which confused Janet. Nexl
day she went out for a little walfc
he along that quiet road with a fainl
ve expectation, wondering if perhaps?it
t>, might be possible? and lo, there was
Charlie on horseback leading the
most charming pony. He jumped ofl
his horse when he saw her, and fast*n
ening it to a tree, showed her all the
e" beauties of the other. "What ails
Jn ye to jump on," he said, "and I'll
Qy take ye for a ride, not far, nothing tc
tire you?"
"Oh, I am not so easily tired,"
said Janet, her eyes lighting up, "bu1
ie* I have no habit?and then mothad
er .?
"Her ladyship will be none the
11 wiser," said Charlie, "and she knows
I would take good care of you. She
would never mind."
k? "Do you thing so?" said the girl,
lU' And in a moment?it seemed but a
moment?she was pacing along bj
the side of the big horse, everj
!r~ movement of which was restrained
7n to harmony with her pony's smallei
"" paces. Janet had been Tom's victim
Qe to follow at his pace?to do what he
lg pleased. She had never before kne^
t0 the delight of being cared for, conne
sldered as the first object. She rode
ir~ for an hour by Blackmore's side, excited,
delighted, half persuaded thai
,w she was a fairy princess, with everyls?
thing that was beautiful and pleasanl
ot made for her use.
as This happened again and again
^ and nobody found it out. It was
nt thought at the Towers that she had
taken to wandering in the woods it
rd her loneliness, now that Tom had
re gone away, and though Lady Cat
*n remarked a changing color, and thai
^ Janet's eyes sometimes were brlghl
SB flAmafimoa r? *00 m xr TTfif T?AfV?<no
auu ouuivuui^o ^ tc uvycuiut
ie like suspicion of any secret evei
-k crossed her mind. No such thing en:.h
tered the mind of any one. And ala
ready the household was full of prepr_
aratlons for going away, which ab,e*
sorbed everybody. The first of Ocas
tober was the last day before the
id departure of the family from the
Towers, and Janet stole out unobserved
as usual, for her last ride.
< * '
a Never had the pony carried her so
ie lightly; never had the little escapade
n_ been so delightful; they came bach
rI slowly, side by side, lingering, unl(*
willing to acknowledge that it was
m over. "I'll keep the pony for you,
& Miss Janet," said Blackmore. "Nobody
shall touch her but myself. She
3e shall be kept like a lady, like the
bonnie lady she belongs to, till you
m come back."
"Oh, but, Mr. Charlie," cried
e? Janet, 44you must not do that. They
>o would not let me buy her, and I'll
have no money of my own for a long
*? time?not for five years."
re "Money!" he cried; "did you supts
pose I was thinking of money? Ye
do me great injustice, Miss Janet?
iy but it's no fault of yours."
's "Oh," she cried, "It was because
you said she was mine. Now she
3- cannot be mine unless I buy her?and
re I cannot buy her. Oh, what have I
5- said wrong? I did not mean to say
t- anything wrong."
"That I'm sure of," said Charlie,
to "and maybe you're too young to un-h
derstand that the pony's yours and
her master's yours, and not a penny
td wanted?but something else."
111 To be Continued,
to : .
IS
General Jackson's Way.
. When General Jackson returned to
jt Washington after the Seminole war
his first act was to send for a fasht
ionable tailor of the name of Ballard
* to make him a pair of breeches. Ballard
was very fond of being recogj.
nized by great men who had been ljiis
j customers. A few days after he had
finished Jackson's garment he saw
the General conversing with a comre
pany of friends in front of Tennison's
Hotel and stepped up pompously to
speak to him. Jackson, thinking him
t some distinguished individual, very
cordially gave him his hand, but, not
remembering him, in a whisper inquired
his name, to which Ballard re,
plied: "I made your breeches." The
General, deceived by the sound, im>d
mediately turned to the company and
j introduced him as Major Breeches, a
? title which poor Ballard was after;
ward obliged to wear to the day of
! his death.?New York Press.
??r ?
j1 Longest Cable Ropeway.
,g . Work is at present in hand on the
;p ] construction of what is claimed to be
y ; the Iciest cable ropeway in the
j world. It is being constructed by a
j German firm, and is intended to con!
nect the collieries of the Societe de
l'lndustrie Charbonuiere et Miniere
01 de Turkestan, situate about eighty
j miles from Samarcand, Russian Turk,y
estan, with the nearest railway stalg
tion. Hitherto the coal has been
0' j .transported by camels, the journey,
>? on account of the very hilly district,
s occupying nve uays. ine new rone)e
way, which v/ill be fifty-four miles
long, is intended to carry from eight
0 to ten million poods a year, and the
-n' trolleys, which will each hold twenty
a ; poods, will travel at a speed of six
l(j ' mfles an hour.?Philadelphia Record.
r(>
p. Owner of Historical Mantel.
Y, William Hemstreet, of Brooklyn,
<! \T. Y., is the owner of the mantel ben
j fore which Edgar Allan Poe sat when
ir ! he wrote his masterpiece, "The Raven."
He will shortly, it is said, pred
sent it to the Columbia University,
j where it will have a conspicuous place
's ; in the library.
The value of red light In prevent- it?=
ing the Sufferers being marked cy
smallpox was scientifically discovered |\i
anew a few years ago by Finsen oi
1 the violet light rays fame.
i The inventor of the roller skate Ten
was a Dutchman named Merlin, who
I came to England in 1760. Eight
n-vVt 4 V? i f or! a "nnir
I y Cd 1 laici UC CAUiUiWVU M
; skates contrived to run on wheels" aC
. a museum in Spring Gardens, Lon- j
; don. Eve
I
, Paris is experimenting with what Tha
j is called steel pavement. It is really AVi;
a concrete pavement reinforced with a v
L a steel framework. The metal part res'
j of the pavement is a plate of perfor|
ated steel, with strong bolts of steel
j running through it between the per- w.^
j forations. Each section has some re- (j)
j semblance to a steel harrow, only the int?
! prongs project equally on each side "01
and they are square and blunt. It eac!
, will be superior to asphalt in ulti- woi
I mate economy and to wood in the wit'
I better footing that it affords to horses. use
' see
bod
; The elasticity and hardness of rub- g^yj
I ber are now determined by an appar- abi<
i atus akin to the schleroscope, which late
J showB the hardness of steel by the re? kne
bound of a pointed steel hammer. A bim
? sharp point is forced into the rubber, '
; and the force exerted and the depth
! of penetration are automatically 're- son
corded on graduated circles, a com- era]
, bination of these indications giving Sori
, the degree of hardness. The elastic- dre:
, ity is shown by the height of rebound Son
of a steel ball when dropped upon Pas:
the rubber from a measured height.
[ The apparatus is simple, and easily
, and rapidly tests the relative value of hap
, different specimens of rubber. hea
[ tioi
The electric fish of the Nile, of tior
[ which the Egyptians made pictures con
, thousands of years ago, still inhabit con{
, the waters of that river. They are mo'
, provided with an electrical organ
j which Incloses the whole body. It is
situated in the skin, and under a mi- an(j
k croscope is seen to be composed of the
millions of beautifully formed little drii
. disks, superimposed upon connected the
rows of minute compartments, in c'rc
which are the terminals of nerves. ?ut
J The shock is produced by an intense
I current that traverses the entire or- jeg,
t gan from the head to the tail of the an(j
I fish. It stuns small fish. The elec- hav
. tro-motf.ve force in a fish eight inches nes
1 long can attAin a maximum of 200 bra
! volts. A single giant nerve cell at
' the head of the spinal column is the
! source of the Impulses.
COUNTRY DRIVE IN RUSSIA. wai
the
Speed Proportionate to Price Paid-? wit
"Through Village1' Roads.
adv
The Russian popular idea of driv- oug
? mg norses is to nog tnem aiong mue uut
after mile without a moment's breath- me*
lng space. The speed Is proportion- ^ 1
1 ate, within limits, to the price paid,
' but the horses are never at any a ^
speed allowed to slacken. pat
The high road to Ruza runs in a dru
i series of ups and downs like an end- win
less "switchback," yet the "jamshik" loo]
(driver) never once allowed his colc
1 horses to rush the last of a declivity v
! to carry them up the next rise, but jug
kept the pace steady up hill or down, j a
a regular rate of one verst in five dea
minutes. We insisted several times I
' on giving the poor brutes a few yards last
at a walk, But at last had to acqui- mei
" esce in the custom of the country, ^eg
with the result that at Ruza It seemed
better to take another team for the 0j'
remaining four miles across country.
The way now lay over what are see;
called "through village" roads, end
1 These are simply a tract of Mother (ch
1 Earth bounded on one, sometimes on drii
both sides by a rough ditch, and only *
otherwise differentiated from the
surrounding arable land by the sur- t^e.
face being cut up by wheels instead 0f
i of plows ? and the Russian plow see
hardly cuts a deeper furrow in the mo:
fields than wheeled traffic on such a mai
"road." el
In order properly to understand 1??
some of the conditions of rural life in |
Russia it is necessary to travel In the an(j
simplest manner of the native; our I jie
, impressions of the same road when | wh<
we returned behind a pair of fine cap
horses in a properly balanced car- stu<
riage with a sufficiency of springs
were wholly misleading, if more en- Is
ioyable.?London Standard.
. you
In Good Company, i stej
The mathematician is a walker, all
Walking seems to be necessary to fire
him to set his thought in motion, and is ^
during his perambulations certain ^
mechanical movements of the fingers
appear to be the indispensable ad- fr0
juncts of an intellectual labor which mic
renders him indifferent to the outer fori
world. One day. as you 'vere out of f
walking, you suddenly noticed that a dt
you were carrying in your hand a
wicker cage. You were immensely jur;
surprised. Where, when, and how ,
had you picked up that cage, which pro
was a nev ono, and happily, quite the
empty? You had no recollection of f?ll
it whatever, and you went back until ^oe
you found on the pavement the stock a?a
of the basket-maker whom you had
innocently pillaged. You are accustomed
to such distractions as these. S
They will become, if they are not so lo11!
already, as famous as those attributed
to Lagrange, Kr.nt, and Ampere. You
might be in worse company.?From '
speech of M. Masson welcoming M. ^as
Poincare into tao French Academy. anci
Memories of the Past. !?
! Some of our rriends suggest that 650
i we run a "Twenty Years Ago" col- to s
umn in the paper. All right. How kan
is this for a starter? "Twenty years
ago John Dobbins promised to pay
his subscription when he sold his "ft
wheat. Now the question is, 'Did of c
John lie, or is he still holding his cord
wheat?' "?From the Louisiana arri
Press.
_______________ cour
qitai
New York's Varied Restaurants. Tan
New York City has more restau- !)e'n
rants than any other city in the i
world, and they represent the extremes
of the good and the bad, with
fewer of the middle grade than either T
Paris or Loudon.
an i
" J I
Sunbau-Scl?c>6f'
FRNATTONAL LESSON COM- I
MENTS FOR MARCH 28.
J
iperance Lesson, Proverbs 23:29* t
35?Golden Text: "At the Last j
It Biteth Like a Serpent and
Stingeth Like an Adder." Prov. r
29:32.
IME. ? All times. PLACE.?
irywhere.
:XPOSITION.?I. Six Great Evils c
it Result From Indulgence in
le, 29, SO. Solomon here gives us I
ery vivid picture of six evils that
lit from indulgence in wine. Cenies
have passed since Solomon's ,
, but it is as true in our day as it L
i in his that these evils pursue the
ebibber. Note them carefully.
"Woe." literally, "Oh!" i) e., the
snse pain that leads one to cry I
i." How many "Ohs" are arising
h dav from the lins of men and 1
lien whose bodies are tortured
ti the many ills that arise from the
of alcoholic stimulants. I can
still the man that I once carried
ily through the streets of a city
[eking "Oh, oh, oh," in indescrib- c
5 agony from drink, and I see him j
ir as I held him down with my c
e upon his chest as they strapped j
i to a bed in the hospital. (2) \
rrow," literally, "Alas," i. e., the j
p seated and abiding grief that i
ses one to cry, "Alas! alas!" This I
ow of the drunkard is of innum- t
ble forms. Sometimes it is the \
ow of seeing loved wife and chil- 1
u reduced from plenty to poverty, i
letimes it is the sorrow of being c
sed upon the street unnoticed by s
time friends and associates. Somees
it is the sorrow of standing by ?
grave of the once beautiful and r
py wife who has died of a broken i
rt over her loved one's degrada- c
i. (3) "Contentions." Conten- t
is at home, contentions in society, c
tentions in the place of business, t
tenticns on the street. Alcohol i
thers most of the broils in this <
Id. If a man wants perpetual war t
him drink. (4, "Complaining." t
V.) Wine injures the stomach <
breaks down the nerves and ?
reby spoils the disposition. The ?
iker soon becomes, a grumbler and t
grumbler is miserable under any y
:umstances. (5) "Wounds with- ?
cause." Go to the police court t
norrow morning and see' the black ?
s, broken noses, crippled arms and 1
s, chewed ears and more serious s
entirely unnecessary wounds that t
e come through drink. (6) "Red- i
s of eyes," the sign of distempered 1
in and premonition of approach- ?
insanity and death. N&e that *
sc things come from "wine," not t
relv from the stronger distilled <
lors. '
I. The Only Wise Attitude To?
d Wine, 31. "Look not thou upon
wine." This is total abstinence
h a vengeance. Not only "don't
;e," but "don't look." It is good
ice, inspired advice. If a thing
;ht to be left alone, leave It alone
;rly. There are many who do not
in to sin, but they will just look
the sin. That look is fatal. Eve
t looked, then she lusted, then she
, then she died (Gen. 3:6). Many
tan and woman has taken the same
h to the drunkard's grave and the
nkard's hell. "I wouldn't drink
ie for anything, but I do like to
tc at it. It has such a beautiful
>r. It sparkles so. How smoothly
?ould go down! Just look there!
t a sip now. Delicious! Another,
t one more. What is the matter?
m dizzy. I am drowsy. I am
d. I damned." Don't look at It.
II. "At the last," 82. "At the
Three significant words. If (
a could only see the end from the j
inning, how many things they t
lid leave undone which they now J
Before entering upon any course
action we ought always to ask }
ire it ends. "There is a way that ?
meth right unto a man, but the j
thereof is the ways of death" j
ap. 14:12). The way of the wine 1
iker is undoubtedly such a way. J
V. The Wine Drinker's Eyes and "
irt, 38. "Thine eyes shall behold '
tnge things." (R. V.) Indeed
y shall. They shall see things out
all proper proportion, they shall
double, they shall see snakes and |
asters and devils. The drinking
a has perverted vision, physical,
ital, moral. Folly looks like wisa
and wisdom looks like folly,
ht appears wrong and wrong aprs
right. A man who is truthful
hgnest and pure when sober, will
and steal and commit abomination
jn he has drank a little. Wine in- j
acitates men for business, for I
3y, for decent living. If we take i
rendering of the A. V., the verse
till true, for when*the stomach is
of wine the eyes are full of lust.
<v many a young man (yes, and ?
ng -woman) has taken his first
) in unmentionable vileness when ,
that is bad in him has been set on L
by a glass or two of wine. Wine .
he seducer's most potent ally. {
T. The Wine Drinker's Brain, 34, (
The head of the drinker reels .
I he is stupid. He tosses to and f
as "he that lieth down in the j
1st of the sea" and sways back and
:h as "he that lieth upon the top
l mast." It is a graphic picture of
runkard's confused and unsteady
ital condition. Furthermore the t
iu is for the time insensible to in- ! I
[es received and the drinking man ^
thus rendered incapable of self- 1
tection. Last of all, the drinker is *
complete slave of his enemy. With c
knowledge ct' the injury arinK i c
s him he cries "I will seek it yet ! '
iD." 1
Dog Finds Distant Home.
eminole, the famous foxhound be;ing
to Judge A. Floyd Huff, of a
Springs, Ark., which participated a
the annual, meet of the National i
Hunters' Association and which t
lost duriiig one of the field trials,
reached her home almost starved I
with her feet bleeding and so fc
; that she could hardly put them I o
ha ground. The trip from Oral) I r
hard, Ky., to Hot Springs is about I d
miles and the dog was compelled ! s
wirn both thp Mississippi and Ar- j d
a?.s Rivers '
Caribou Herd of 500,000.
That is probably the largest herd j
:aribou on earth, numbering, ac- j
ing to Chris Williamc and other I
vals at Dawson from Ladue Valhalf
a million, is trekking in the "
se of a sudden change of winter
ters from Sixty-Mile Creek to the ^
ana River, the line of march
g from eighteen to twenty miles 'I
fidt.h.. 11
Increase in Horses. ji
he number of horses in the a
led States is given at 20,6 40,000, tl
ucrease over last year of C48.000.
\
HE TEMPERANCE PROPAGANDA | r
td
JONCERTED ATTACK ON DRINK !9
WINNING ALL ALONG LINE. [v/
Army of No Retreat. ^
'he world has sung of the lust of war J "*)
And the glory of nero deeds; L*r.
If the great deeds done and thi! battlee 37'f
won? W
And the race attentive heeds:
!ut I would sing of the tried and true,
Who walk life's quieter street, , ,
Vith purpose strong to conquer wrongs?
The Army of No Retreat. J can
vj But t
ris not for the fame of a mighty name, The
'Tis not for man's applause,
They have set their hearts Whic
To the steadfast part
Of a weak but righteous cause. 1 do
)ne pole-star clear of duty near
The light unto their feet. The I
Jnmoved t.hey tread toward the rock*
ahead? , I c
The Army of No Retreat!
All 81
). never the world will shout them cheer, )
These tireless, quenchless men, kot
Nor bronzes flame
Their worthy fame , The^i
To those who come again. Tin
Mauuj; yjn
And wrong goes to defeat, untiJ
Jeeause they give the lives they live?
The Army of No Retreat! _
?H. B. Mil ward. But <
Whei
The Price of Drir.k. Ful
It is not so much the money that ,
[runkenness wastes as the misery it
iroduces, the domestic, temporal, and The
iternal misery, which roost of all ap>als
us. As to the expense of this The <
'ice, great as it is, that we least de- Th<
)lore; for the loss of m?ney, we hate .
t least. On the contrary, we should vvlut
>e content were the money and the
rice to perish together. We should T
)e content to pay that hundred mil- That
ions as yearly tribute, would this Fee
inemy to God and man, this foe to
>ur peace and piety, leave these With
ihores.
We wish to keep, and, were it possible,
to get back, something far tj,at
nore precious than money. Give that Th<
nother back her son as he was on the
lay when he returned from his fa- God
;her's grave, and in all the affection
>f his uncorrupted boyhood walked
,o the house of God with a widowed
veeping woman leaning on his arm. N
3ive that grieved man back his
jrother as innocent and happy as in d
hose days when the boys, twined in ?
sach. other's arms, returned from *L ,
ichool, bent over the same Bible,
ilept in the same bed, and never . ,
;hought that the day would come '
vhen.brother should blush for broth- .
jr. Give this weeping wife, who sits . - ,
jefore us wringing her hands in
igony?the tears dripping through
ler jeweled fingers, and the lines of J J
sorrow prematurely drawn on hex ,, >
beautiful brow?give her back the d
nan she lbved, such as he was when ? .
ler young heart was won, when they th
stood side by side on the nuptial day,
md, receiving her' from a fond fa- A
:her's hands, he promised his love to
jne whose heart he has broken, and ^
vhos? once graceful form now bends .
vith sorrow to the ground. Give me t
jack, as a man, the friends of my ^H;
mouthful days, whose wrecks now lie . * ^
hick on this wreck-strewn shore!
Relieve us of the fears that lie
leavy on our hearts for the character ?
md the souls of some who hold par- * ?
.ey- with the Devil by this forbidden ? ..J
;ree, and are floating on the outer "
>dge of that great gulf-stream which *
sweeps its victims onwards to most P t
voeful ruin. Could this be done, we - j" ^
ivOuld not talk of money. The hunired
millions which drink costs this ."jV
and is not to be weighed or even 5
nentioned with this. Hearts are ^
iroken which no money can heal. ? ?
Rachel is "weeping for her children," ?r? 1
refusing to be comforted.?Dr
"'nfVtitj * Mrrot
jruthrio. Bald
and
Deadly Drugs in Whisky. the !
Dr. B. H. Warren, State PuFe Food this
Commissioner of Pennsylvania, has a?y
nade a startling discovery regarding wou]
he cheap grades of whisky sold all P^ec:
)ver the State. In Altoona he said: '
'Most of the cheap whisky sold in **
Pennsylvania, I have discovered by
tnalysis, is manufactured from wood
ilcohol and red or India pepper, the
atter element giving the deadly dose
;he desired 'snap.' I was astounded s?
vhen the chemists informed me of sity
:heir findings in a number of cases, ten
ind immediately had over 1000 sam- dowi
)les taken up over the State. Ninety- best
ive per cent, of the samples so fai a&d
'xamined have shown the presence cess
>f wood alcohol in poisonous quan- and !
ities, along with the pepper. Some won;
iamples contained arsenic, turpentine this
md traces of prussic acid." Dr. succi
iVarren said he had instituted pro- noun
:eedings in over 100 cases vfhere the preai
leadly stuff had been sold. The total T
lumber, from present indications, junit
vill exceed 1000, and may, before] Deed
he investigation is completed, reach to-ds
>000. "No wonder," said the doctor than
that our asylums are full." to si
evid<
C6SS
Ten to One. to b
Where the saloon exists it damns j achi<
en souls for every one that all the j ger a
ihurches save. It cannot be right | sue?
md nothing can make it right, thai faiiu
ill these forces of love and pity and
)hilanthropy, the life-forces of any
lation, should be perverted and renlered
barren by the wanton selfish- J W
less of the careless, the ignorant, the j oursi
ndifferent and the bad.?Dr. Charles draw
P. Aked, in Appleton's. be d
? our
Lincoln's Influence. heari
Men are living to-day who were in- enn?
luced to sign the pledge by Abraham
Lincoln's convincing arguments vanj
rhat he thoroughly appreciated the ] - .
nenace of liquor evils is evidenced j ness.
>y his declaration on the very daj | h th'
if his tragic death, that "the next ; t
marl we have got to straighten oul j wujc
s the liquor question."?C. A j , (
'helps, in Broadway Magazine. I Hrnir
Change Your Doctor. j
In the th -aire of the Crystal Pal,ce,
London, Cardinal Manning wa; ^je '
addressing a great meeting of iht deem
nembers of a temperance orcranlza- j
ion. "I will confess to you," he said fentu
that I do not practice what I preach oenj2
am not a total abstainer myself J5,,.
lecause m? doctor won't let me be
ae." Thereupon a voice came frr.n;
ne topmost gallery, "Change youi
ioctor." "Thank you for the hint.' ^
slid the Cardinal, "I will." And hed.
becoming from that time a total ?a_ a
bstaiucr. McLa
Put l'p Whisky Against Bibles. ^
"If the so-called reformers of Des
loines insist on interfering with oui _
usiness as we conduct it under the tourn
iw, or try to drive us out of busi- State
ess. we will see which will go the "us>
arthest in the fight?a barrel ol team
rhisky or a bus'iel of Bibles," said
leorge Judd, who was recently recor
lected president of the Des Moines of Co
Letail Liquor Dealers' Association. C
noinr
Boston has apparently T'.fted for Lij
cense by from 8000 to 10,0C/0 votes, -yy
reduction of about one-hrdf fvon.' the jj
ie majority of last year. field
freed
*
for up dally rar&e J11;
tytonono rtv? pfcajanf fields Jill;
W holy Writ 1 mufrdgimyl,
> S?^= <&*?.?25--^* C,
v*- - * ^y*
THE ACHING SPOT.
not surely tell if this be so,
ruer e'er to me it seems to grow,
it every life holds hid some achinf
spot
b will not heal, however time may go
not know how soon it strikes th?
heart,
bitter, stinging pain that leaves thu ,
smart;
?nly know, it clings through wearj
years,
tvift to come and sluggish to depart.
merely through the measure of de
light, - '
nerry madness of a festal night,
?re comes the slow, dull pain of sobd
thought,
the world seems wrong and lackini
quite.
1 i
even 'mid the holy things of all,
:e solemn music beats the Oothit
wall? i
1 half the prayers of priests, apostles
saints,
jitter wails of grief that rise and fall
little novice in her strange, cramped i
lot,
aider nun, who long ago forgot
; big broad world in narrow convent - v
life?
e veil and black, they hide an achiof
spot!
ne! I wonder if the -white clad throng
walk the upper, golden street* along,
>1 that vague want and droop, ua
satisfied
God's great lilies and the ceaselepr
song?
yet. they tell me sorrow there is not,
pain is swept away, and every ,blot;
>n. when we climb the shimmering
steep of Heaven, < ?
pity us, and heal the aching snot! j
-J. P. E.*'
i
ie Parable of the Prodigal Son.
iver certainly in human language
so much?such a world of love /
wisdom and tenderness?com*
sed into' such few immortal
Is. Every line, every touch of
picture, is full of beautiful eter?
significance. The poor boy's preptuous
claim for all that life
i give him?the leaving of thtf
lome?the journey to a far coun-?
-%the brief spasm of "enjoyment"
e?the mighty famine in thaf
?the premature exhaustion of
;hat could make life noblp and
irable?the abysmal degradation
unutterable misery that followed
e coming to himself and the reo>
ition of all that he had left bet
?the return in heart-broke#
tence and deep humility?the la's
far-off sight of him, and th<
r of compassion over this pool
rning prodigal?the ringing Joj
te whole household over him who
been loved and lost, and had now
i home?the unjust jealousy and
o complaint of the elder brother,
then that close of the parable in 4
ain of music?Son, thou art evei
me, and all that I have is thine*
ras meet that we should make
ry, and be glad; for this thy
her was dead, and is alive again?
as lost, and is found.
II this is indeed a divine epitoma
te wandering of man and the lovo
rod such as no ear of man has
heard elsewhere. Put in the
scale all that Confucius, or Sakya
nl, or Zoroaster, or Socrates ever
e or said?and they wrote and
many beautiful and holy words? '
put in the other the Parable of
Prodigal Son alone with all that
single parable means, and can
candid spirit doubt which scale
Id outweigh the other in eternal
iousness, in divine adaption to
svants of man??The Late Canon
I. Farrar.
After Succeeding.
lere is no test of character quite
jvere as that of success. Adveris
hard on a man; but success is
times harder. Adversity, or
iright failure, challenges all the
that there is in one to rise up
conquer in spite of defeat. Sucbrings
a challenge, too?tc go
improve upon the success already
; but it is harder to respond to
challenge. "If at first you do
5ed" is the title of a sermon aniced
by that vigorous pastor and
cher, Dr. Ernest Bourner Allen,
oledo, In a winter course to hia.
)r congregation. The message iff
ed. More people are succeeding
ly, and in more different lines,
ever before. It takes strength
ucceed; and that very strength,
;nced and developed by the aucin
which it proved itself, ought
e tolerant of past and present
jvement, and to press on to big- y
ind better things. Unless it does,
2ss marks the beginning of
re.?Sunday-School Times.
___ ; 4
Getting Ready to Pray.
e would take care so to manage
slves all day, especially when It
s toward night, that we may not
isfitted and put out of frame for
evening devotions; that our
ts may not be overcharged, either
ae hand by surfeiting and drunkss,
as theirs often are who are
of pleasure; or on the other
, with the cares of this life, as
s often are who are men of busibut
that we have command
of our thoughts and of our time,
we may finish our work well;
h will be aft earnest of our finishaur
life's work well.?Matthew
y.
f iclinH an/I <7O/Inn*?%swl
/nun^uj^iicu auu A?%UCCIIIVU*
hatever may be the defeats of J
age, it is distinguished and re,
ed by its deep interest in formissions;
in the for future this
re of our generation will be rec;ed
as its chief glory.?Rev. W,
atkinson.
Be Ever Mindful. y
Christ about whom you do not
; is as good as a dead Christ, as
s you are concerned.?Rev. Dr.
ren.
w "World's Bowling Record,
e world's bowling record for
ament scores was broken at the
Bowling Tournament, ColumOhio,
the Krollman five-man
from Cincinnati scoring a total
31 in three games, beating the
d of the Bonds five-man team
lumbus, made at the tournament
:incinnati last year, by four
ghtning Helps Convict Escape.
ben a flash of lightning put out
ghts in the county jail at SpringMo.,
Oscar Rowe escaped to
om through a coal chute.
k -