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.g<fHH5S5HSaSSSasaSESHSS5H5c iTHEMAHf I By EFFIE ADEL CHAPTER I. 1 Dear Uncle Robert. "Pull the blind down?down, I say! Don't you understand plain L English, or are you grown more \ stupid than ever?" Enid Leslie started from her chair hurriedly, and, with fingers that \ trembled nervously, caught the tassel of the striped blind; her action was so sharp that the string broke, and the yards of linen ran down with a jerk to the bottom. 41 Ah! of course, of course! More V breakage, more expense! Ugh! What 1 good are you, you poor, foolish, \ white-faced thing? All you can do is . eat and drink to your fill, and run me up bills at every turn." The girl's lips quivered and her chest heaved a little. "I am sorry," she said quietly, almost humbly. 'Sorrow won't mend the blind," was the sour reply. "Here, go and send Simmonds to me and keep out of my sight, for I am sick of seeing you sitting there like the lump of uselessness you are!" . Enid moved ?way obediently. At the door she turned. "And the papers, Uncle Robert? Shall I?" she said. C?i.. IfnflhTrflll e{mr>lv clinnlr ivv Kf *ku\<w ii vi* k/mvwu his stick at hex savagely. "Go!" he snarled. "Do as 1 tell you. Don't come near me till I send for you." Outside the door Enid stood still, her .two small bands pressed against her heart, her eyes moist with the tears she was too proud to shed. "Oh, mother! mother!" was the wailing cry of her mind; "I am soj weary, so wretched?so wretched .. without you!" She shut her lips firmly, as if .to keep the cry from forcing itself between them, and turning, walked i slowly along the dark yet wonderful B old corridor that led to the wide staircase of Kneowell Hall. Past E& many an ancient tapestry and warlike . accoutrement, past many a priceless painting, did Enid go, but she looked at nothing: "such .thines were not for her, the poor dependent on Sir Robert's charity, the Jowly recipient of Knebwell generosity; no, her lot was very different. She traversed the massive staircase and made her way along a landing shut off from the building by a green baize door till she reached a room that one would have little imagined* had place in so magnificent a house?a poor, narrow . apartment, with no carpet on the floor and furniture of a meager and varied sort; yet Enid heaved a sigh of relief, almost of gladness, as she stood there, with the door carefully closed, and realized that she was in the one spot that lo her was equivalent to the joys of home. Enid, gazing over the summer scene, sighed every now and then. "If she could have been here and have had this air, perhaps God would have let her live," she said to herself after awhile. t She was thinking of her beloved mother, the friend, the comforter, the protector whom she mourned every moment of the day.- A vision of 7the poor, squalid life they had lived came to her; of her invalid mother lying on hard couches in dingy rooms; of the poverty, sometimes the despair; and yet Enid was happy then; whatever ill had come she could grasp the frail, dear hand and kiss the pale lips of the being who was gone forever.' Her deep blue eyes grew moist ana misty and a broken sob came from her throat again. "Oh, mother! mother!" she cried, and for a time the fair scene before her was blotted out and all was dark. But Enid was brave; she resolutely dashed away her tears and rose from her knees. To wail for her mother was useless, since she could never come to her child. "I will do some work," she said to herself, and she moved to get her canvas. As she placed it to catch the light, sounds of horses reached her from beiow, and looking out he saw a girl ride fleetly up the avenue, her mare a mass of foam, followed by a groom mounted on a chestnut that pranced and fretted as it went. "Dorothy has been far tc-day," thought Enid; then as she glanced at the groom she felt surprised at the difference between the condition of the two horses. "I wonder where she has been? Poor Princess looks . tired." She stood and watched the girl slip from the saddle, then, without a glance at the mare, whose head drooped and whose whole body quivered, gathered her skirts in her hand , , and entered the house. It was char-1 acteristic of Dorothy Knebwell. The horse had evidently served her purpose well, but she had no spare grain of gratitude or affection to waste on an animal; and as Enid watched the groom pat and stroke the mare as he took her back to the stables, her I heart swelled with pit}' and some indignation. "Dorothy is cruel to dumb animals," she said to herself as she sat down and took her palette in hand. "She should remember they can make no complaint." Enid was of too sweet, too true a nature to guess that as her cousin treated animals so would she treat human creatures; she lived in a world peopled by her own poetical imagination, and no such character as Dorothy's had place there. She pinned her apron over the cotton frock and stood with brush in hand before her picture. A knight in armor was bendJ ing over his gayly caparisoned steed / to kiss a maiden, whose fair, white ^ arms clung to him like the tendrils of a dolicate plant. Tho face of the / . picture3 girl was like Dorothy's in shape and color, but there was a (depth, a sweetness ia it that was LSE52SZ5H5H5H5HSHSHSESH557*. )HE LOVED 1 i -?=!*-<* n] AIDE ROWLANDS. 1 ? uj rHSH5HSESH5H5HS2SE5H5HSHl!i? wantiDg in the living woman altogether. Suddenly, as Enid sat lost in the dreamy pleasure her work always brought, the door of her room opened abruptly and some one entered. "Paugh! What a smell! Coofl heavens! Enid, what are you doing?" And Dorothy, still in her riding habit, with her golden locks breaking ?oose and straying from under her velvet! cap, sauntered up to the canvas. "I am painting," said Enid hurriedly and with her heart beating nervously. Her cousin had never deigned to put her foot inside her shabby domain before, arid, roused so roughly from her dreanTo, she was ill at ease. "Painting!" echoed'Dorothy Knetywell, with a light, sneering laugh. "Well, and what do you daub, eh? I T m a 1 aaIt f " little Cinderella, why do you choose me?" "Because you are beautiful," Ehid answered, quietly and gravely. This was the reply Dorothy expected, and, accustomed as she was to flattery and adulation of all kinds, it gratified her, nevertheless, for she felt it was sincere. She bent and just laughingly touched Enid's cheek with her lips as she said, "Thank you, dear cousin," little heeding that this negligent caress sent a flood of heavenly delight throijgh the veins of the girl who had hungered for some affection and sympathy all this long, weary year. Enid made no effort to return the kiss; but Dorothy knew that she had captured her cousin as effectually as though she had flung strong ropes round her and bound her. "The silly little fool will do all I want," she mused, as she sat on the foot of the tiny bed. "So much the better. I shall want her very soon." Enid, her heart still thrilling, put back the picture silently; then in a low voice she asked: "Do you need anything, Cousin Dorothy?" "Do you think I should come up all this way for nothing?" Dorothy answered, shortly. GV?r\ TOCO oil Atlf f r\T* OrnKtlfi TTT Vl uuc nao outut iUi unuii\., " u**v Enid stood waiting. This cold, sharp reply acted as a shock on her sensitive nature, and sent her back to her usual timid, nervous condition. Dorothy sat lost in thought for awhile and apparently her thoughts were varied and complex, judging from the expression that flitted across her face. "What gowns have you got?" she asked, suddenly. "My best and the?" "Show them to me," commanded Dorothy, imperiously. Enid obediently produced her poor wardrobe from the shelter of fier shabby box, and her cousin tossed tbem aside. "Is that all? Papa ought to be ashamed of himself to let the whole AAimttf c r\n Vifo ti iono in cn/tVt ro ere? V.VUUIJ occ 11 lO 1U OUV.U 1 "faCl Give me that body, and atter luncb come to my room and ask for Virginie; she will have something ready for you to wear by then. You must be prepared to start with me by half past four at the latest. "Where, where am I going, Cousin Dorothy?" almost whispered Enid, growing a shade paler. "You are going to a garden party with me, and remember, you must do all I tell you. Don't call me 'cousin,' it is old-fashioned and stupid; my name is Dorothy, so use it." "But Uncle Robert?" "My father will do as I like," Dorothy replied, coldly. "Don't make I <zuy UUJCl'.llUllf, UUl SILUpi* ICU1CUJUCI jail I have told you." I And leaving Enid plunged into a ! state of wild confusion, mingled with excitement. Miss Knebwell gathered : up her habit, and walked in her own ; peculiar, graceful manner froa the room. CHAPTER n. A Sudden Death. j "Give her that hat and that sunshade. Virginie. Enid, don't forget your dress is longer than usual, and button those gloves." Enid caught, the long gray suede coverings for her small hand as they were Hung across the room. j "But this dress, Cou? I mean Dorothy! Suppose I should tear it! This lovely lace?" Dorothy laughed contemptuously. "What then?" she said. "You must save up your salary and give I me another. Now stand off and let ! me look at you! Bravo! Upon my_ jjci. mc iuva. She put her gauntleted hand on Enid's shoulder and pushed the girl I aside. She stood for an instant quite silent, then turned to the artist, who I stood with downcast face, her cheeks ! just tinged with red. "Who taught you?" she asked, abruptly and sharply. "Mother," was Enid's answer. Dorothy Knebwell frowred. She i hated any one to do anything better than herself; and though her father had spent hundreds of pounds on her education, she could not have approached this painting in the very i smallest degree; then her face | cleared, her vanity was touched. "This is intended for me, I suppose?" she continued, pointing to the girl. ? ^ Enid nodded her head and Dorothy ^examined the picture again. ""You shall take a proper portrait;. I will give you a sitting. I don't simper like this creature does," she observed, with a patronizing air. Enid, without a word, went to the corner and took from thence four or ?ve small pictures, turning them so .that her cousin might gaze upon the presentment of her own self. "All me!" Dorothy said, lifting her | brows in surprise. "Really, I am niiito flattorort Toll mp vnn fnnnv I to her cousin, tfho was so deep in a t conversation with Lord Derriman, ^ and wait for further instructions. j "Miss Cuthbert is having tea, \ x Enid," Dorothy said, after a pause; I t and had any one watched her closely j they would have seen her fingers r move restlessly round the handle of ? the sunshade she held. ^ "Does that mean you would like | some, too?" laughed Lord Derriman. Dorothy rose at once. "It does," she said, promptly, and J at that moment the clock struck half * past five. "But I want my cousin to I see your rose garden first, Lord Derri- * man." 1 (To be continued.) . s Poisoning Arrow Heads. i ? An old , Cherokee Indian recently ' 1 gave away this secret of how the In- \ ^ dians of olden times used to poison j * their arrow heads for war purposes ^ or for killing bears. They took a 1 fresh deer liver, fastened it to a long " pole, and then went to certain places g where they knew they would find i s rattlesnakes in abundance. About 'c midday the rattlers are all out of * their dens, coiled up in the cooking 1 sun. The bucks would poke the'first J rattler they found with the liver on * the long pole. A rattler, unlike com- c mon snakes, always shows fight in preference to escaping. The snake would thus repeatedly strike at the liver with its fangs until its poison was all used up, whereupon it would quit striking and try slowly to move on. The bucks would then hunt up another rattler and repeat the performance, keeping up the work until the liver was well soaked with snake poison. Then the pole was parried t home and fastened somewhere in an upright position until the liver be- p came as dry as a bone. The liver was t then pounded to a fine powder and placed in a buckskin hiig, to be used ^ as needed for their arrows. This g powder would stick like glue to any moistened surface and was death to any creature which it entered on ar rows.?Dundee Advertiser. 1 c The Old Coat. "Lobelia," asked Mr. McSwat, who ! T was rummaging in one of the closets, ^ "have you done anything with that E old coat of mine that used to hang on the last hook in here?" f "Yes," answered Mrs. McSwat, "I a gave it to the Volunteers just before f Christmas." c "You did, did you? Well, you'll be sorry to learn, perhaps, that there r was a $5 bill in it which I was going I i to give you if I found that coat un- f disturbed at the beginning of March." s "I think not, Billiger. I searched it thnrmjtrhlv hpfnre T trave it awav." . "You're a pretty smart woman, J ^ Lobelia, but it didn't occur to you to i s look inside the lining." i D "Oh. ves it did. and I found the $5 bill. I spent it for the rubber plant I in the front parlor that you have ad mired so much and wondered how I jj managed to buy out of my allowance. You're a pretty smart man, Billiger, s but there are times when you don't look the part." E There being no further business ? before the house, Mr. McSwat ad- s journed without form. ? Chicago a Tribune. j Count Tolstoy Criticises Dante. d Count Tolstoy, criticising Dante, o characterized the productions of the r Italian poet as cloudy and unintelli-' gible. B In forty years the price of wall 5 paper has fallen 100 per cent., owing !l to the cheapened process of manufac- ! ture. u .... i wnnrtf word, you are an excellent imitation < of a fine lady." $ The maid broke out into a few ex* 5 clamations of admiration, but Enid 5 did not catch them. She stood but- < toning her gloves, while her cousin ^ made a hasty though marvelously successful toilet. "You are a good foil to me, Enid," she said, as she surveyed herself in e; the glass. . h Indeed, the two girls were a dis- t< tinct contrast. Dorothy in palest 0 blue, radiant, ethereal, lovely; and 0 Enid in soft black silk and ^ace, the a outcome of a Parisian modiste, her a eyes gleaming from under a broad tl brimmed hat, her great mass of red ? brown hair, rolled with consummate o negligence and grace by the maid, in c the nape of her soft white neck. 9 She was hurried away before she c had time to realize that the image re- tl fleeted in the mirror was her own, h and was seated in the carriage between Dorothy and Miss Cuthbert? Miss Knebwell's chaperone?before she knew where she was. c "If Sir Robert asks for Miss Leslie, j, tell him I have taken her out," com- 0 manded Dorothy, as they started. t, Enid was never called by any other s name than Leslie?the one her father c had adopted when, years ago, he had c left his hope and tempted fortune ^ with his brush. Sir Robert always q used it contemptuously, as if to vex t the girl, by not giving her any real a title, but she craved no other; to her c it was more beautiful than any in ex- d istence, for her mother had loved it. j: The carriage bowled away, and <2 they drove in silence till a gateway ^ was reached, and Enid knew that they, were bound for the grounds of Blom ley Manor, tne nome 01 ine aau 01 Derriman, the first family in the s county. - f Dorothy bowed and smiled on eith- c er side as she made her almost regal r entrance on the lawn, led by her host, p ar^ many fluttered up to her to chat a and shake her small, dainty hand, or s receive some pretty word. I "This is my cousin, Enid Leslie," a she said, as Lord Derriman took them ^ to some chairs. '"I want you to be v great friends. Enid and I are insep- j arable now, you know." ' t Enid just lifted her eyes to the man j opposite, and she felt a thrill of 0 pleasure in his smile, and a sensation c of pain at Dorothy's prevarication, i Why should she tell this falsehood? "If it rests with me, Miss Leslie has a friend already," said Lord Derriman, in hearty tones. "Will you g sit here, or shall we go on to mother? t I think you had better rest here, for ^ she is down at the bottom of the c grounds." , -y "This will do at present." i Enid sat leaning back quietly; her ; cavalier had soon departed; he found ^ her too shy and nervous, and so she g had nothing to do but to keep close | \ I t > . s f Bj'ous^iold^00^ \ IS ....matters 1 8 Brovrnbread Omelet. Two ounces brownbread, one tablepoonful butter, one ounce of cold a' am, half teaspoonful of salt, quar- C] sr teaspoonful pepper, three-eggs, ? ne gill of milk. Place a wide Bleve a ver a basin, rob the bread through, A dd the salt, pepper and milk. Then dd the eggs well beaten, then add 1(i tie ham chopped very fine and mix all ^ rell together. Melt the butter in an c< melet pan, pour in the mixture and ook it slowly until the under side is b f a pale brown color. Roll it up n arefully and place it in hot dish in Is lie oven for five minutes. Serve very a< ot.?New York Press. . d: v< Curried Pork. ^ Half a pound of cold cooked" pork, hopped finely, one shallot, one heap* si ng tablespoonful butter, one egg, ne tablespoonful curry powder, one easpoonful of flour, one teaspoonful alt, one teaspoonful of lemon, one n upfu^ of milk, one tablespoonful of hopped cocoanut, one egg and one ti essertspoonful chopped parsley, ii !hop the shaliot finely and fry it in C1 he butter for a few minutes, then g ,dd all the other Ingredients and ook ior nve minuies. urease a puu- g ing dish, pour in mixture and bake e; n a moderate oven till just brown. <>' lerve with plain boiled rice.?New ii fork Press. b; Creamed Flounders. ' ? Eight small flounders, two table- j( poonfuls butter, one tablespoonful lour, one gill of water, one gill of b< ream, one large tablespoonful drip- p ing. Place the dripping in a frying tl tan, when hot put in the flounders ?; ,nd fry them for five minutes on 6ach J,' ide. Place them on a baking tin. D] ?ut the butter in a small saucepan, w .llow to melt, add the flour and mix si cell, cook for one minute, add the ti irater and stir the mixture till boil- n ng. Season with pepper and salt, c< hen add the cream, allow to boil up. ? 'our this mixture in equal quantities ^ ver the fish and place them in a hot (c ?ven for ten minutes. Serve very iot.?New York Press. n< Ii Boiled Herrings. 21 5! Twelve herrings, one teaspoonful h nit r>?o tahloannnn rlnpgftr. half a n easpoonful pepper, on? tablespoonul butter, one tablespoonful of flour, *> >ne tablespoonful chopped parsley, h Vash, clean and scrape the herrings, g( )lace them In a saucepan, cover them ^ vith cold water, add the salt and inegar. Place the saucepan over a ,( ilow fire till the water bolls; take It rom the fire. Put Into a saucepan he butter and flour, stir till smooth, w )our in half a pint of the water the *1 lerrings were boiled in. Stir the nixture till boiling, add the pepper a; md cook slowly for two minutes and ^ >our into a hot tureen. Take the her- 0 ings out of the water very carefully k tnd serve them on a folded napkin ;i rery hot.?New York Press. Potted Herrings. Twelve herrings, three tablespoon- b luls of butter, quarter teaspoonful ol jowdered mace, quarter teaspoonful 5( jrated nutmeg, one teaspoonful white ^ lepper, one teaspoonful of salt, one emon. When the herrings have been craped and cleaned, place them in a auce^pan, cover with cold water and | pi >ring' the water to boiling point, | h; rake the herrings out, remove all I * ***? nlono +V?nm \n o mnrfar : rvue auu OAiu, piatc kuvui HM. ?ith the salt, pepper, mace and nut- ^ neg, and pound them thoroughly, D( 'hen rub through a-sieve into a basin, ? ;rate in the lemon rind, add the p< trained juice and one tablespoonful if butter. Mix all well together, ci hen place the mixture in a buttered f tudding dish and smooth it with a \ fnife. Melt the remainder of the L utter, pour it over and keep in a ool place till wanted. # * ' ' '' ^ Never eat idly or between meals. J* The teeth should be brushed from tl he gums to the cutting edge. re If a cracked egg is wrapped in oiled (c taper before put in water the con- ^ ents will not ooze. tr If boiling water instead of cold is ci ised in making icing for pulverized ?i ugar, it is less apt to run. Wash and bathe the body at least ivery twenty-four hours, in cold, /arm or hot water according to your ondition of health. a( A variety from potato cakes is to Is farm over the mashed potatoes in a tr louble boiler, adding more butterailk and a little cheese. yj A bag made of soft outing flannel, 7ith a ruffle bottom and a draw-string ,t top, to fit over the broom, will be cund excellent for dusting walls and ; eilings. , Remove fly specks from paint by j ubbing with a very wet cloth dipped | * or if roniain rm ! Q OaKlXlg SUUa, icuiug 11 , or ten minutes,' then scrubbing with j oap suds. I Two tablespoonfuls tapioca added ! ij o a quart of any kind of soup about ifteen minutes before removing from B] tove adds greatly to its flavor and i, lourishing qualities. tl Use a small five cent scrubbing 5( rush for cleaning vegetables and ;raters, for scouring paint, the ?l ? n' :itchen sink and range, etc. iveep .( everal for different purposes. 01 Sleep as many hours as you find lecessary to completely recuperate ai our strength, and, as nearly as pos- fi ible, take half of these hours before 'c nd half after midnight. ? In making a mustard plaster, if the jr austard is mixed witivmolasses it will raw perfectly and will not blister, c; ,o matter how long it is allowed to i emain on the afflicted pan. R The growth of the hair may be x timulated by washing the head in a jr olution of borax and camphor. DI- ei ute an ounce of each in two quarLs bi f water and apply the liquid once fr r twice a week. r? HE GREAT DESTROYER OME STARTLING FACTS A BOOT THE VICE OF INTEMPERANCE. Who Are Alcohol's Defenders? The discussion as to whether al< 3hol is ever a food is equally idle nd evasive of the main issue, deiares Dr. Frederick Peterson, of New ork. It is not a food like bread nd butter, for it has venom in it. s Professor Abels, of Johns Hopkins niversity, says: "It is an easily oxlizable drug with numerous untoard effects, which inevitably appeal hen a certain minimum dose is exjeded." I have emphasized the word drug ecause it is as a di>ug that alcohol is ow regarded by most physicians. It ; placed among the narcotics and anesthetics. I should like here to present a verj rief summary of what scientific inestigktors have recently determined ) be the action of this drug: It is no longer considered to be a :imulant, but rather a depressant. il perverts uigesuuii. It depresses and weakens the hearl ction. It decreases the capacity to dc luscular work. It diminishes the intellectual funa ons by dulling the creative faculty npairing judgment, vitiating th? orrectness of perceptions and by enerating timidity. I tl brings about slow, far reaching natomical changes, such as fatty deeneration of the heart, kidney diS' ase, diseases of the blood vessels banges in the muscular tissue anc 1 the cells and "fibres of the nervoui rstem. Its habitual use lessens the norma! efences of the organism against in' ictious diseases, especially tubercu' )sis. If you find here and there some dls;nting voice, that of some universitj rofessor perhaps, you may . be sure lat is it not that of a person with ledical experience or any one famil tr With the niaterial which all maj ;ad but rather the voice of some ae perversely interested. You mighl ell question whether such a one If imply seeking sensational exploits on of himself or whether tfe mighl ot even be subsidized by the vasl jmmercial interests at stake, for yot mat remember that the annual con' imption of alcoholic drinks In thf nited States is over a billion gal >ns. I believe that human evolution has ow reache'd the stage when the abotlon of the use of alcohol as a bev rage is expected and required. Ab:inence is one of the principles ol uman eugenics, that new science lat is just being born. There is no one here present whe ould feed alcohol to his dogs orses, sheep or cattle. These posjssions are too precious for that [e is too interested in improving leir breed. He would recall Pro;ssor Hodge's experiment with aliholized dogs, in which among twenf-three pups born in four litters tc e pair 01 aicononzea aogs mm ere born dead, eight were deformed ad only four apparently normal. Our best method of eradicating the Icoholic evil is that of a campaign f education. Every man, womar ad child should be made familiar ii ne way or another with what Is nown by the medical profession ol le ravages ofralcohol. A Strong Argument. The following card made into a lotter, signed by a dozen grocerj rms of Delaware, Ohio, has been :attered by the thousands, and has roved very effective in a campaign hich, writes Dr. C. W. Barnes, "i? loving splendidly:" "Anyone who drinks three glasses t whisky a day for one year and ays ten cents a drink for It, can ave in exchange at any of the firms hose names appear on this card iree barrels flour, twenty bushels Dtatoes, 200 pounds granulated igar, one barrel crackers, one pound spper, two pounds tea, fifty pounds lit, twenty pounds rice, fifty Dunds butter, ten pounds cheese, venty-flve pounds coffee, ten pounds indy, three dozen cans tomatoes, ;n dozen pickles, ten dozen oranges, ;n dozen bananas, two dozen cans >rn, eighteen boxes matches, half a ushel beans, 100 cakes soap, and velve packages rolled oats, for the tme money, and get $15.30 premium >r making change in his expendiires."?Western Christian Advoite. It is a Cancer. The liquor traflic is a cancer in soety, eating out its vitals and threatilng destruction; and all attempts > regulate it will not only prove aortive but aggravate the evil. No, lere must be no more attempts to igulate the cancer; it must be eradated * * The most effectual ;medy would be the passage of a iw altogether abolishing the liquor affic, except for mechanical, chemiil, medical and sacramental purases.?Abraham -Lincoln. Jnst Remind Him. When an adherent of the iiquor >rces tells you that the $45,000,000 dw paid for wages in liquor manuicturing would be withdrawn were affic in intoxicants stopped, remind im that there would be, without sa10ns. an increase in factory wages ! more than $286,000,000. Switzerland's New Sunday Law. The General Council of Geneva, witzerland, has just passed a new unday law, which is far in advance I anything we have in this land. Temperance Notes. Booze has made beggars feel like ines and ha3 dragged kings from lefr thrones. Massachusetts, last election, lowed a "no-license" majority of 8,710 votes; twenty of her thirtyiree cities are without saloons, and > are 260 of her 321 towns. More than all other causes put toother, it is repsonsible for the anual crop of 10,000 murders and the 0,000 suicides in this free, prosperus and intelligent republic. The last week of the year is the anual boly-week of Booze, when its iends and victims shout, "Here's loking at you!" "Happy New ear!" "Skoal!" "Prosit!" oi Whoop-la!" and then go into s ance. It is now well known that alcohol auses a certain receptivity for other iseases. In pointing out this fact, rofessor F. Martins, director of the ostock Medical Clinic, said at the XII. Congress of Internal Medicine i 1905 that alcohol affects the genitive as well as other organs of the ady, and that this is the main factor i the degeneration of the human ice. 1 for my dally rang<? j 1 yiVWmong, the pledjaftf fields <*/??' ft Oof Holy V/rif I might despair.^, I A HYMN. I Thy love, dear Lord, I crave; Thy blood my soul must save, My sins remove. i 0, wash them all away, And let the light of day Thy kindness prove. ' In sorrow's darkest night, 1 When round faith's beacon light . ; Thick clouds increase, I Keep me from sinful fear; Then in Thy love appear, And bring me peace. Thy love is all I ask: [ With it will every task . A pleasure be. t My love, my hie I give To Thee, wno now dost live, But died for me. Transcendent love was Thine, To give Thy life for mine, ? _ And die xor all. J. his love, dear Lord, I crave; Thip love my soul muat save; / I hear Thy call. > > "Come unto Me, ye blest; Come, and your souls shall rest; In Me abide. ; * Then shall your cry -be stilled: Your heart with love be filled: mj. Be satisfied." ?Celia McCord Gerhard. A Wife's Temper. In a church I was ~ ^rking in, in I Manchester, I frequent./ received requests for prayer for the conversion of husband, children, and friends from one woman. She was a Christian, but she had one besetting sin, which handicapped her. She used to bring request after request, "Please pray for my husband." Well, we got him along, and when we got him nearly in, that woman would, upset the whole thing. What do you think it was? It was her teml per; and when she did let go?whew! ?everybody in the house knew; and t her husband used to say, "Well, Mary, t if that is religion, I don't want it." She knew she was wrong, and she was sorry afterwards, and would ask his forgiveness. He did fprgive her, but, all the same, it hindered him. One day I made up my mind that when she brought another request I would talk with her and be very honest with her. She did come, and I told her that the fault was hers, and t that she must overcome her temper? I xi a. i r a j u#,. > luttL lli? ijuru uuuiu give tier giacc to enable her to curb her temper. > She took the matter to the Lord and committed it to Him, and He gave . her the victory. / The time for spring cleaning came ; around, and she trusted the Lord. - She had juBt got a new lamp hung . up in the hall and a new carpet; and John cam^ home carrying something i on his shoulder. He did not know > anything about the lamp?that was [ -to be a surprise?and he came in, swinging round, and down came the > lamp, and there was a clattering and t a row, and a breaking up of things; i and he waited for another row?he i expected it in the natural order of ! things. He waited, and presently a ! quiet woman looked over the stalra and down at him, and said gently: "Never- mind, husband! It is all right; we can get another lamp." And he looked up and said: "Mary, what's the matter?" "Oh. my dear," she said. "I have trusted Jesus to cure me of my temper." "Well," said John, "if He has ? cured you, come ngnt down ana pray for me, for that's what I want. If 1 there's enough in religion to cure L your teknper, I want the same relig1 . ion." John was converted that day.? 1 Gipsy Smith, i ' The Christian Name. Some excellent people shun thfe ' word "Christianity." It suggests to them limitation, narrowness, bond' age, obsolete doctrines, effete organization, clerical despotism, or merely ' one sect among the sects of the ' crowded religious world. Yes, the word may well bear these poor meani ings; alas, it often does: But it bears and deserves a far nobler mean' ing. If we interpret it in the light | of what is best in experience in the New Testament and in history, it is a term of spiritual enlargement and emancipation, a symbol of progress, a power working toward human completeness and perfection. If a man , fwill truly follow Jesus, he will obey the inner Voice, he will trust the , soul; he will welcome every ne^ ray , of light: he will let the creative power or the impulse of evolution have its | way with him: he will live by the highest law and for the noblest ends; he will be a freeman in spirit, escaping from the bondage of his own lower nature, as well as from all usurping outward authorities; and he will accept his proper place and duty among his fellows. Can there be any doubt that a man who thus moves freely along the ways of light and love belongs in the company of Jesus? Yet the name is not what we contend for: use it or refuse it. as you honestly may or must. When we begig to make the name a fetter, or to use It as a bludgeon, or to darken the daylight with it, we have spoiled the thing, we go over to the side of anti1 Christ.?Charles Gordon Ames. Christ's Pledges. Christ has pledged to all who come, forgiveness of sin; loving guidance; tender care; and last, a gladsome welcome into the Father's house.? Rev. Henry Hepburn. In His Name. , Wheresoever we be, whatsoever we j are doing, in all our work, in our | busy daily life, in all schemes and undertakings, in public trusts, and in , private retreats. God is ever with us, and all we do is spread before Him. Let us do. then, our duty, as to the Lord. Let the thought of His eye unEeen be. the motive of our acts and words. Do nothing you would not have Him see. Say nothing which you would not b?ve said before His visible presjnce. This Js to do all in I>!p.Toe. , I I ~ Length of Russian Workday. Consul John H. Grout, of Odessa, transmits a decree by the Prefect of that Russian city fixing the laboring day for artisans at a uniform length of twelve hours. However, out of the twelve hours the laborers are allowed ! two hours for rest and taking meals. ! In addition to these two hours youths ' under seventeen years of ago must be allowed three hours daily to attend i school. Overt'ime work is permitted only in extreme cases. Artisans of the Christian faith are not required to work on Sundays or feast days. INTERNATIONAL LESSON COMMENTS FOR MAY 23. Subject: The Council at Jerusalem,. Acts 15:1-35 ? Golden1 Text: Acts 15:11-?Commit Verses 2S, 29?Commentary. J TIME.?50-52 A. D. ' PLACE.?* Vj Antioch, Jerusalem. EXPOSITION^?I. "Except ye b? circumcised after the manner of Moses, ye cannot be saved, 1-5. The church in Antioch was getting on famously, and the devil brought in false teachers to upset the faith of the young converts. The main point .<?5 of doctrine witn tnese iaise xeacn?r? was that it was not enough to believe I on Jesus, one must also keep the law : of Moses. The great controversy in the early church was whether a man was saved upon faith alone apart , from works of the law or whether a man is saved upon faith and works of ; the law. The ord controversy comes.. : up in our day in a new form. It is Sabbath-keeping "after the manner of Moses" that is now insisted upon. Three arguments were brought for- , ward at the council of Jerusalem to -; refute the legalizers: (1) Peter's vgument. God has borne them witness by giving the Holy Ghost to the uncircumcised as well as unto ub and ; has put "no difference between na and them, purifying their hearts by ' ; faith" (vs. 8, 9).' God in a similar v' way to-day is bearing witness to those who do not keep the Jewish seventh , day Sabbath. (2) Paul's argument.. God has wrought signs and wonders 1 among the Gentiles by us and thus set His seal upon our preaching' of salvation by faith apart from works of the law (v. 12), (3) James' ar- 1 gument. It is according to Old Tea. anrtntnro thot find Will fcftltB .1 IiailiCUt Ubli{/bUiV VUMV WW ..... .. people for His name from among the , uncircumcised Gentiles as well as tho law-keeping Jews (vs. 13-17). Tho teaching of the Judaizers caused end- . less trouble in the Antioch church (v% f . 2). It was wisely decided to submit the question to the apostles affd eld- 3?? ,?rs in Jerusalem. Paul and Barna- \ bas made good use of their time'on* their journey to Jerusalem. Ailalong the way they declared what God had done among the Gentiles.; The story they told caused great joy. ".U unto all the brethren. Nothing causes greater joy among true brethren than -1 the story of how men are converted s from sin to righteousness. II. The Decision of the Holy Ghost'; and the Apostles as to the Authority of the Mosaic Law Over Gentile Christians, 22-29. The apostles and elders and the whole church took : ? abundant precautions to guard against any misrepresentation of } their decision being taken back to , ' Antioch by the legalizers. They ' ' knew the men they had to deal with. A' Thus Paul gained his chosen companI ion of coming days (v. 40). Good j had come out of the schemes of Paul's;.^ j enemies. The njode of address used : in the letter is full of significance, "The brethren which are of the Gen- . 5 ! tiles." ^aith in Christ makes all men kin. T*iey were bound together by a I very tendey tie, that of faith in a j common Saviour. Many American Christians have not even yet reached 5 the point where they regard every converted Chinaman or African asva brother. The description of the Judaizera is very striking and suggestive (v. 24). There is no way In Jga which the devil can more trouble believers (and esepecially young con- / verts), or more thoroughly unsettle (or subvert) their souls, than byfalse words. These false words must \. be met by words of truth (Col. 4:6), - ;and above all, by the word of God (a Tim. 3:13-15). The apostles empbatically denied all responsibility ! for -this pernicious and subverting f teaching, tnat men musi Ktep me mn i of Moses in order to be saved (v. 1). I Tbey bad come to absolute unanimity I about the matter in question. It is a I great thing when brethren who differ | can meet together and study ' the ! Scriptures together under the Holy <. i SDirit's guidance, as did these early - " Christians, and thus "come to one ac! cord." The apostles and the whole . ! church bestowed very lofty praise on J Paul and Barnabas. It was well de; served (2 Cor. 11:23-27). Of how i many disciples to-day could it be | justly said that they had hazarded I their lives for the name of our Lord Jesus Christ? It was not their own decision on this great question that they were pending; it was the Holy Spirit's decision. They were perfectly sure of this (v. 2S). It was because they sought and obtained the mind of the Spirit that they were able to "come to one accord." It is because we seek the wisdom of men, rather than the mind of the Spirit, that we are so often at variance with i one another. The one who insists upon the binding authority of the Mosaic law upon Christians is opposing the Holy Ghost. Four points of the Mosaic law and no others were adjudged necessary for the Geatiles. There was great joy in Antioch when the troublesome question was settled (v. 31). There were two reasons for this joy. Painful division had given way to pleasant harmony, and. moreover, the irksome bondage of the lav/ had given way to the joyous liberty Ol the (iospei. mere IB aiwajs juy when one comes out of the bondage of legalism Into the glorious liberty of a son. Judas and Silas were much used of God in other ways than merely settling this question. They were Spirit-filled men and gave much profitable exhortation and instruction, confirming the believers in Antioch in faith and life (v. 32). . - . v Man With Golden Nose. Patrick Lamphear, one of the most widely known Bourbon whisky experts in America, died at Lexington, Ky., recently. He was born in Ireland sixty-five years ago. His skill in determining the quality of whisky by Its aroma had gained a large salary for him, and had won for him the sobriquet of "the man with the golden nose." Siberian Butter Makes Hit. Siberia's exports of dairy products have a promising future. In 1898, 4000 buckets of butter, each containing thirty-six pounds, were sent, as an experiment, to the London market; 30,000 buckets of butter a week were sent thither in 1908. Mrs. Patterson Dead at 102. Mrs. Esther Hoge Patterson, who was 102 years old, died in Philadelphia. She was a member of society circles. Until about two months ago she retaim <? all her faculties. i Maxim Silent Gun Forl>i?I;lcn. P.;;- "P; use of