The Abbeville press and banner. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, April 06, 1910, Image 2
V - , ? *, A"
1A VAGABOf
?
By ANNIE
CHAPTER IX. 12
Continued.
"As far as I am concerned, there
"will be none whatsoever," answers
Roger coldly. "You and Colonel
Drewe, of course, know best what reason
you have for embarrassment."
He is annoyed, lowered for her
sake, rather than his own. But Rose,
who is no adept at reading the character
of others, sets him simply as
"jealous" (a mistake into which vanity
not infrequently conducts intelligence
of her caliber), and twitters on
and on about poor Stanley's infatuation
and deepset eyes, and her own
innocence and the embarrassment oi
riches that awaits her in the way oi
admirers until the very excess of her
folly brings her lover back to good
temper. Dear simple-hearted little
Rosie! Who can be angry with her
long? Her vanities ar?? so childlike:
her flirtations like her whole character,
so transparent.
i- "You may be sure he rushed tc
England as soon as ever he got the
news or uncie Kooeri s aeam. i am
not a tool, Roger, and I don't think
myself quite hideous, but I know
very well that men like to marrv
money, and that in my small way 1
am an heiress! Can't you fancy him
looking round the house speculating?
'And then to come upon your portrait.
I wonder, now, whether it was quite
proper of me to have it hung up yet?
Nothing would pain me more than
for Colonel Drewe to think me indeli'?
cate "
"We are certain, I suppose, that
it is Colonel Drewe, Rosie? There is
no one else among your numerous
victims whom tho cap would fit?"
Oh, yes, on this point Rosie is confident.
If it had not been for the
mustache it might have been the
Rev. Rowland Lascelles, whom she
met last year at Malvern, the most
elegant, the most spiritual minded
of men. But no, with a conscious
little sigh over her Malvern reminiscences,
the mustache settles it.
Colonel Drewe it must be and no
other. "'And what makes it the
more remarkable, Roger," adds Rose,
with her most sapient and logical air,
,"I declare it looks like the finger of
fate?I dreamed of poor Major
O'Shea only last night! It seemed
come one in America "had told him
of my engagement?in dreams, alas,
y in dreams only, our dead are restored
to us!?and he had brought
' * me over the most lovely turquoise
and pearl set as a wedding present
(Major O'Shea always used to say
how pearls became me),%and was exceedingly
pleased at the marriage, and
Baid he wished you joy from his
heart. Was it not remarkable?
"Most remarkable and most unpleasant,"
answers Roger, getting an
' noyed in earnest. "For God's sake,
Rose, dream no more dreams! Rivals
of flesh and blood, powerful colonels
and elegant persons, I can stand, not
I , the others?"
But happily, at this very delicate
juncture, the door opens, and the
entrance of Belinda and Miss Burke
puts an end to the love scene.
CHAPTER X.
"Lagrimas!"
Miss Lvdia Burke is by no means
an unfavorable sample outwardly ol
the Woman of the Future. She has
a tolerable sandy complexion, tolerable
sandy hair, teeth almost overwhite
and even, and a pair of very
wideawake and small gray eyes. Her
walk is wiry; her figure like a bit oi
' watch-spring; her age?the hitherward
side of forty. What in this
bright, energetic-looking lady should
have introduced the sad elements oi
hatred and disbelief into Belinda's
young life? What has caused the
inalienable discrepancies betweer
them?
Mainly, I imagine, this unchangeable
law; that reality and shams will
110 more mix togetLer than oil and
water.
Nothing can be grander than the
meeting between Belinda's stepmamma
and her preceptress. Miss Burke
has held religiously to the letter ol
the bargain sealed between them ir
London, has kept the girl conveniently
out of Rosie's way during the pasl
three years. Rosie has held to hers;
each quarterly payment for materna
watchfulness and superior intellectua!
culture has ueen paid in advance
without a question. They begin tc
talk platitudes. Rose thinks BelindJ
grown, though a little sunburnt;
Miss Burke trusts dear Mrs. O'She;
has overcome the fatigues of travel
ing? A very weary journey fron:
London to St. Jean de Luz.
"Yes, indeed, specially when one i<
traveling alone with one's maid,'
cries Rose, sensitive even as to th<
smaller proprieties, and virtuously
conscious that she only "met" Rogei
Temple in Paris. Bordeaux and else
where. "One does feel so miserably
helpless without a gentleman!"
"Well, for my part, I see no us<
thpn xulintAVPr " eaves XT^cc Hnrlrc
"When you are alone you have noth
irig but ycur luggage to look after
When you are burdened with a man,'
this with a deprecatory glance in th<
direction of Roger, "you have to loo!
after him and your things, too."
"My things!" exclaims Eelinua. ii
her mocking voice. "Well. Mis:
Burke, in the present state of affairs
my 'things' would not require mucl
looking after, with a man or withou
one. Do you know, ma'am," serious
ly, "the washer-woman says there ii
really nothing more of mine for hei
to tring back. The last reraaicins
tatters I had have vanished?carriec
away by the birds, I suppose, to builc
LUtll UCOIO.
She perches herself on her accus
tomed favorite place, the corner o
the table, and looks round cheerful!:
on the company as she volunteer!
ibis information.
Ii
m
m mm i
sii iimiuiisu %
o ?11 -
EDWARDS.
A cold glitter comes into Burke's
eyes. "You are almost of an age, I
must say, Miss O'Shea, to begin to
care for order. No achievement in
; life can ever be made without order.
When I was seventeen I had no
greater delight than in the neat arrangement
of my wardrobe."
"But I have no wardrobe to keep
neat, ma'am. Wardrobe? Why,
this is my only frock, and as to
stock?"
"Belinda, my dear Belinda, you
forget! Another time!" -interrupts
Rose, coloring. "What have you
been doing with yourself to-day, my
love? And last night?did Mr. Jones
see you safe home? I had a note
from him this morning saying he had
gone off to the mountains, and that
I must ask you for particulars. Now,
what does it all mean?"
She frisks over, like a little lamb
' kin, to her stepdaughter's side, and
' putting her arms round her waist?
Belinda holding herself uncompromis1
ingly stiff under the caress?begins
f to gush and titter, school-girl fashion,
1 in her ear. Miss Burke and Roger
: are thus left to make conversation
for each other.
' "A very interesting country this,
sir," observe^ the lady, looking sourly
J at Roger's handsome face?oh, Miss
Burke, you who fifteen years ago could
look at no man without a melting
! smile! But such are the results of
earnestness. "Interesting, I mean,
1 to those who visit with a purpose."
"Yes, I am told you get very fair
snipe-shooting here in winter," an
swers Roger, who does not under(
stand the argot of Miss Burke's sect.
1 "I speak of the inhabitants; sunk
now in superstition, but the rem'
nants of a noble race. You are per!
haps not aware that the Basque has
! outlived five distinct people?the
1 Carthaginians, Celts, Romans, Goths
and Saracens?"
"Murray," says Belinda, in a stage
1 whisper. " 'Introductory remarks on
' the Pyrenees,' page two hundred and
forty-nine."
' Roger strokes his mustache and
1 tries to look edified. "The Basque
must certainly be very old," he begins,
foolishly.
"But the work that I am engaged
on at present, the work that indeed
fills every moment of my time, is the
search of illustration. You have, perhaps,
heard through Miss O'Shea that
I am writing a book? No, I might
: have guessed as nuch. Miss O'Shea's
1 interests do not lie in the direction of
; my own. A book entitled 'The Woman
of the Future.' I am a laborer,
' sir, though a humble one, in the
greatest reformation of our day, the
1 work of restoring woman to the pedestal
from whence the blinded prejudices
of centuries have dethroned
her."
"Ah, yes," says Roger, in no very
1 enthusiastic tone, and glancing as
' he speaks at the patches where darns
' ought to be in Belinda's stockings.
"For my part," he adds, gallantly,
1 "I cannot see" that any reformation
1 is needed. It seems to me that wom'
an are exceedingly charming as they
are."
"As the Turk, as the debased Asiatic
thinks of his slaves!" cries Miss
Burke, hotly. "Do you, an Englishi
man, actually advance the proposition
! that to be charming is a fit motive for
: an immortal being's existence?"
"The most charming women ap
pear to me to be so without any mor
tive at all," says Roger, mentally
measuring the distance between his
! adversary and the door. "But I am
really the worst fellow living at an
argument."
"Oh, that is a very easy way of escape.
It is perfectly evident to what
cynical school you belong?the surface
light in which you regard our
i sex! Can you solemnly affirm, sir,
I ask it with the earnestness the sub
ject requires, that ycu do not look
I upon us as toys?"
[ Thus put, as it were, upon oath,
Roger Temple considers Miss Burke's
> personal attractions more closely
. than he has yet done, the thin, cold
? features, the glistening eyes, the
f watch-spring figure. He feels that
1 he does not, that in his wildest mo
ments he never could look upon her
: in the obnoxious light she deprecates,
and with a perfectly clear conscience
1 answers, "No."
I "Then may I ask what do you look
> upon us as?" says Burke, pitilessly.
> Roger not only measures the disl
tance between himself and the door;
; he riees to his feet. He has been
i held a brave soldier in action, a hardy
- sportsman in the field; but he is hori'
ribly afraid of Miss Lvdia Burke. "I
?I really beg pardon?but I have
; usually looked upon women as worn'
en," he answers, humbly.
? Miss Burke turns her head away
f- in contempt.
r "It teally is most wonderful,"
- sighs Rose, who has caught the last
f word or two of the discussion, "most
extraordinary how gentlemen do dis?
like intellect in us! I am sure, for
. myself, I envy superior women, and
. I have always wished and wished to
be blue; haven't you Belinda?"
"Oh, I like my natural hue well
i enough, Rosie," answers the girl,
: pertly. "Still, if 1 were forced to
change, I believe I would as soon be
X v/iuv. ?.* ' UVUC1 W1UJO. OU|ICJiUi
3 women do not usually wear rouge or
, pearl powder, do they?" She looks
i more thoroughly hard, more dclibt
erately, selfishly wicked than ever as
- she implants this savage stab. Alas,
s where are ail the budding graces,
r where is the soft, shy, dawning wornr
anliness of the "Lagrimas"' cf last
1 night?
1 "But must your choice, of necessity,
lie between the two, my dear Be
lind?.?" Robert asks, in that quiet
r tone of his. which at once softens
r and exasperates her. "Are blue and
; rouge the only two colors in the
world?"
"Certainly they are not, Captain
Temple. There is sun-tan, for instance,
Van Dyck brown; the fine
natural color of gamins, beggars,
gypsies, and all the great unwashed
of nature. My color."
'"Unwashed! You quite pain me
with these expressions, Belinda," says
Rose. "But you must try not to despair
about your complexion, dear.
Spencer shall make you some of her
milt nf roses. She cot the receipt
from Lady Harriet, and they say the
effect is extraordinary; that sua-tan,
and even freckles, can he cured by it.
For my part," encouragingly, "I have
no great faith in cosmetics. You are
fair or you are swarthy by constitution."
Her last fatal fancy about Colonel
Drewe has melted poor Rosie into
amiability. So amiable, so elated is
her frame of mind, that she has
been rash enough to whisper her little
budget of hopes and fears and
projects into the girl's unsympathetic
ear. "An old?ah, if she must confess
truly, a dear friend coming after
her to St. Jean de Luz. Could anything
be imagined more difficult than
tiie part she would have to play? And
Roger so jealous already?that is his
weak point, you know, poor fellow,
jealousy! And will Belinda find out
where Spencer can buy one of those
becoming Spanish combs and a mantilla?"
For Rosie's imagination always
flives to the millinery department?the
stage properties of any
coming event?as the imagination
of a more highly endowed woman
might fly to what she would say, or
feel, or dissemble.
It is long before the visit draws
to an end; and Captain Temple, doubly
guarded by Rosie and Miss Burke,
does not exchange another syllable
with Belinda. At last, in the middle
of one of Miss Burke's finest peroration?:
nn wnman'c destiny, the erlrl
brusquely takes her departure from
the room; and accompanying her to
the top of the hotel stairs, Roger
gets a word or two with her alone.
"You are not going to play paume
to-day?" For she has a racket ball
and schistera, as usual, in her hand.
"Under this broiling sun! Belinda,
I will not allow it."
"Will you not indeed, Captain
Temple? Why not, pray?"
"I do not choose you to spoil your
complexion, for one thing."
"My, unwashed complexion that is
to be improved by Lady 'Harriet's
milk of roses! Isn't it fine to hear
Rosie and Miss Burke talk! What
advantages I have had, sir, ki being
guided by those two extremes of feminine
intelligence."
"Promise me you will not play
paume, Belinda, to-day, or any other
day."
She hesitates and looks down; a
quiver on her lips, a tell-tale blush
shining beneath the clear olive of
her cheeks.
"Lagrimas!" he whispers softly.
"Will you promise?"
And then she raises her eyes. They
promise?unconsciously they promise
a world too much to Roger Temple.
To be Continued.
The Secret of Meredith.
The secret of George Meredith's
mystery may perhaps lie in the fact
that never before has a writer of such
eminence partaken at one time in so
; /ull a measure of the critical and the
creative faculty. Shakespeare knew
how to write a play, Aristotle knew
how one ought to be written; we shall
rarely find in the study of any period
an author pre-eminent both as critic
and creator. That word which is able
to make flesh of abstract material
comes seldom from the mouth of the
scientist, however fine and true be
his knowledge, potent his voice or
sturdy his faith. What a monstrosity
indeed was that Frankemitein, man
created by the hand of man to scare
the public of a century ago! Nor
could ever a workman, however curious
his art, make of any dry bones
a Zagloba. This it is then which
marks George Meredith as unique
among artists: that being first a critic
of man, he is in a secondary degree,
and yet in a degree extraordinary, a
creator of man.?Atlantic Monthly.
Plan to Protect the Osprcy.
The British Government has issued
a proclamation prohibiting the capture
or destruction of Goura pigeons
and ospreys for the next five years in
Papua. No permit or license will in
future be issued except to duly accredited
agents of some rccognizcd
zoological or other scientific society.
m u i _ ...iA :n i.m at. ?
A JUS ruie wijj iuaiei Jtiny curiaii iuu
future supply from Papua for commercial
purposes of that pretty article
of headgear, the csprey feather,
so highly valued by women in all
countries.
Trees That Explode.
All lightning-blasted trees explode
as overcharged boilers do. The flame
of the lightning does not burn them
up, nor does the electric flash split
them like an axe. They simply explode,
overcharged, as may be a boiler
with steam.
The lightning is conducted into
the damp interstices of the trunk and
into the hollows under the bark. Its
tremendous heat at once turns all the
moisture in those cramped spaces into
steam. This steam in its immediate
explosion blows the tree asunder.?
Philadelphia Bulletin.
The Ileal Thing.
"What's doing in the way of
amusements?" asks the newcomer of
the old inhabitant of Hades.
"Baseball game every afternoon,"
answers the old inhabitant.
"Baseball? You don't mean it!
That's great! I was a fan from 'way
back on earth. On the square, do
you have baseball every day?"
"Sure thing."'
"By ginger! This place suits me.
Baseball! Say this can't be Hades,
; then."
"Yes, it is. The home team always
; leses."?Life.
Who's the Joke On?
A milliner put up this sign: "We
lit girls for the best colleges in the
East." Fuzzle?Who's the joue on?
? The Bellman.
After having bc^ri In u.'f* since
1750, the Tciiameut ured at tbe
Essex sessions court at SUc'msford,
England, has now been roplaccd by a
nsw one, the sift o! E. North Buxton.
? Ill ??
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HAP SHOWING THE LOCATIONS 01
PH0P0SED I
-New York State has set aside
quired the famous Washington Hea
land, including many historic anc
proximately $13,250,000. There a
parks. The annual average for tb
in the order of their legal author]
more in extent, are as follows:
HMMBBBplMMDMHiBaaMinui
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i i
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I i /JLAXZ ONTAJUO
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WW* J
Sfp fM
jr rokra J/ovy
< MM |f *? '
^ foe TA<T3.. I
1 ^ WA7JC1
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MOB****""""""""""""""1"""
litres; Niagara Kails, 412 acres; S<
1,411,636 acres; Saratoga Battle I
Brown Farm, North Elba, 243 aci
I Isslands, 181 acres; Grant Cottage
j Held, thirty-four acres; Lake Geori
Palisades Interstate Park, 700 a<
l?land, Lake Ontario, one acre; Ca
ton, Oneida Lake, one acre; Joh]
Watkinii Glen, 100 acres;; Letchwc
acres; Fire Island Park, 125 acres
J Season of Humility.
It is necessary that one shoi
sometimes forget that he is a su]
rior, and to remember that he is
brother.?Bishop Wilson.
j The gates of Jerusalem are si
closed at night.
Three I.adders in One.
Not every family has a long anc
short ladder about the house, and
often happens that, where one of th<
will not suit the other will. A Cai
f ~
f fj&Tirs*ziip !
l ^SMSMs- 1
^vAiMli i
^4w\ ^c^rel 1
J :
> *
? fflDJCJTSS JtOCATTOJr CIP
F" JZXOJOSSJZ STJtTIS JZAJZX:
; H jMtirc^ris sjxd z>ojrjrF2> %
) !, #yjrrj?s. J: -* ^jpjvw^ '
9; HRS. HARRIMAN'5 GIFT LARGER
I THAW ALL THE PARKS IN N. Y. CITY
ire f Ackm.
U Area of tract'doaated <,.10,000
^ Area of Central Hark. ' 841 .
?? Area of Bronx Park Bll.. 1
L' Area of Proapect Park...^.i? 'fil9
W Toiol area of parka la Greater ' '
?/ - New York '7,871.
Total acreage of Manhattaa..l4,on8
F THE TWEMTY STATE PARKS AND THE
HIGHLANDS PARK
for park purposes since 1S49, when it acc.quarters
at Newburg, 1,521,833 acres of
1 scenic s^es. They cost the State aprj
records of visitors for only eight of the
se is more than 1,250,000. The parks,
la.ation and their area, where an acre or 1
Washington' Headquarters. NTpwl>?r?r. six
^^5)^5 / ^ ro#X
rirmr laeggaa
*JP&fl 1
% <?. ^ lie Lifrforr \
\ f&SSSLwa
X^CTSV1? I
*4 nif"MVMjt I
V
wicrCiTt
;nate House, Kingston; Adirondack Park, 1
lonument, Schuylerville, two acres; John
es; St. Lawrence Reservation, Thousand
, Mount MacGregor; Stony Point Battlege
Battlefield, Caldwell, thirty-five acres;
:res; Clinton House, Poughkeepsie; Spy
.tskill Park, 107,339 acres; Fort Brewermon
House, Johnstown, eighteen acres;
)ith Park, Genesee River, Por.tage, 1000
- K# TJOU
\ .fumyst; juauui nan, luun^iu.
Worried.
ild "Why is old Titewad so afraid of
10- death?" "His-son is so extravagant
a that the old man is afraid he will
bury him in a thousand-dollar coffin." j
-i!1 New York City has 133 department
I stores that employ 11,000 persons. ;
dian has invented a ladder that an,
swers both purposes and when folded
(for it does fold) takes up less room
;s(J than even the old style small ladder.
ja_ This invention consists of a ladder
made in three sections, one on the
other and hinged together on one side
and in the back. On the other side
are pins to keep it in place when it is
J extended to its full length. Either in
j its extended or its short form this
ladder is a safe one, but it ha9 no
back support and must be leaned
against the wall. After the top section
has been bent down on one side
it folds back, and when the second
section is down the three fold together
like a three-part screen. When
the ladder is not in use it can he
stowed away behind a door or in any
corner, ac it does not take up as
much room as a chair.?Boston Post. .
Peculiar Discovery of Mine. I
One of the most valuable arsenic
mines in the United States, on a Vir!
ginia mountain, was discovered when
: a farmer's cows were killed by water
M | liowing from its poisonous deposits.
THE PULPIT, [p
tl
p
\ BRILLIANT SUNDAY SERMON BY e
THE REV. EDWARD NILES. ?
v
C
lUCIliCi OJSlClilUUl. UIIIUg>
. t]
Brooklyn, N. Y.?Sunday morning *
the Rev. Edward Niles, pastor of the P
South Bushwick Reformed Church, n
preached on "Systematic Giving."
The text was from Mark 12:41: u
"Jesus sat down over against the t(
treasury and behold how the multi- P
tude cast money Into the treasury." 8
Mr. Niles said:
The stage settiug of this scene is "
a court of the temple area. Around c
three sides of its 200 feet square sur- 0
face ran a raised balcony for the P
women. A'gainst the wall on the 3
fourth side stood thirteen trumpetlike
chests, narrow at the mouth,
wide at the bottom. A placard told *
the purpose for the money deposited a
In each. One and two received the *
tribute money of every Israelite which ^
paid the running expenses of the tempie,
including salaries. 0
In three and four were deposited t
the equivalent in coin for the sin of- c
fering of animals. The next three *
provided for the sacrificial wood, incense
and furnishing. The labels of ?
the other six showed that they re- J
ceived thank offerings of various 1
kinds. Nearby was a miniature *
"chamber of the silent" for gifts to c
educate the children of the poor. ?
Thus seven of these fourteen treas- y
ury boxes were for dues obligatory a
upon the members of God's visible t
kingdom. The seven for offerings of c
gratitude, supported disabled priests t
and their widows, taught those who
could not afford tuition fees, supplied
the needy, went for proselyting or
mission work.
The time was Tuesday of Holy
Week. The characters were a multitude.
Every one of them patronized
the tithe boxes, many those for charity.
The two important characters
were:
First?A widow. She had come to
pay her dues. All she had were two
what were vulgarly called "lepta" or
"peelings," the smallest possible of
coppers. To drop one into the tithe
box meant one-half instead of the
prescribed tenth, but to give less was
impossible. To support her church
was a matter of course, however, and
without hesitation she put in. Only
a lepton left for her living! Then
she looked at the boxes for beneficence.
She thought not of her wants,
but of her blessings. With joy that
at least a lepton was hers to give, she
made her offering for the needy.
The chief character was Jesus. He
had watched the rivera of gold and
silver flowing into the treasury, and
it must have been a bright spot In
that sad week to note how many gave
the free-will offerings. The disciples,
glad at the amounts given, knowing
the need of widows, orphans, slum
workers, said: "The people are very
generous to-day. Rabbi." Jesus was
interested in the amounts the givers
took away, supremely intent upon the
mind rather than the money. He had
no word to say until the widow made
her supreme sacrifice. He felt no
pity for her; but pleasure in her as
He made the . startling statement,
"She has cast in more than all they
that are casting Into the treasury."
We would naturally have expected
the Great Teacher to have sat over
against the pulpit, watching how
some eloquent rabbi expounded and
applied the law and how the congregation
listened: or in some quiet
place of the choir loft beholding how
the cantor led and the great choir of
Levites rendered the worship of
praise and the chorus took it up. Undoubtedly,
He noted these things, but
the only inspired record of His Interest
in the temple worship tells of
His sitting against the treasury. The
concrete result of preaching and
praise appealed to Him more than
their matter in preparation or their
method In delivery.
As He was then, so He is to-day.
The essential in our worship is how
we cast Into God's treasury. That
part of the service should be the service's
centre. The Communion table
is its only fit receptacle. To advertise
"No Collection" is to eviscerate
worship and turn it into a combination
lecture and concert. Money is
the tangible evidence of work accomplished.
Our work belongs to God,
and the more it is consecrated, the
more of ourselves we dedicate to
Him.
In systematic support of the church
this congregation has made rapid
progress. The average given by each
member, man, woman and child, is
larger now than ever before. I said
"given." The word is misleading.
We don't "give" our taxes to pay for
sr.hnnls. teachers, books and janitors. I
When we go to a musicale, we don't 1
give our dollar for a seat, nor do we
give something to the doctor or the
roofer, when we pay their bills.
Taxes for religious instruction in
the Sunday school, for church property,
repairs and improvements,
for music, for a man to spend all his
time in the care of souls and thus
be as proficient as the man we pay
to give all his time to the care of
bodies, are obligatory in England,
Germany and Russia. They are voluntary
here, but no less really the
equivalent of value received, the New
Testament continuation of the temple
dues.
l am ueooiaen 10 jiujic ui juu n,
as the preacher of the Gospel, I live
by the Gospel. You are beholden to ^
me to see that the time I ought to use 5
for m.' work is not diverted to wor- j
rying over my modest bills.
The one mite was the widow's due. 1
Her credit that far was the simple one s
of any person who does his duty. s
Her glory is that because the times c
were hard she did not omit giving ^
for some one else. Because she 1
put her beneficence on the same v
basis with her obligations, she is immortalized.
To speak of the widow's
mite is a misnomer. One important
lesson of the story is that of the du- c
plex system taught by the widow's 1
two mites. ?
The spirit of that double offering is !;
inspiring the laymen of our Ameri- *
can churches. During the winter sev- 1
enty-five men's missionary conventions
in the United States consider 1
this question. Already, crowds of ?
business men have come together at J1
twontv nlaces. in numbers never 1
equalled before outside of political "
conventions. The largest halls were J.
too small to hold the enthusiasts de- '
termined to finance the Kingdom of God
as they do their own business.
Determinedly they have attacked the J
hoary custom of weekly offerings for *
self and yearly offerings for urselflsh- ?
ness, and advocated the substitute of *
which this widow woman was a
pioneer.
Jt is "on the first day of the week
to iay 'ji store as God has prospered f
us." Each one is to prayerfully de- c
cide hew much cf this fund is his a
tithe fcr the temple tax, how much 1<
his weekly gift for others. I e
The weekly envelope has two coma
artments, one for the tax, one ton
ae gift. The tax goes for church exenses.
The object of the gift foif
ach Sunday Is plainly printed. EverjJ
ther week it is for missions, city*
ational or foreign. The alternate*
reek it goes for some other beneflence.
The only objections I have heard tot
bis plan are:
First?"Its additional expense.'*
a reality 1000 sets of fifty-two duley
envelones in each, cost but $161
lore than the other kind.
Second?"Its complexity." One?
se of it will make clear its meaning
o the eight-year-old child. The du-?
lex system has no duplicity. It is /
implex in all but the name.
Third?"Its arbitrary allotments.'*
'he church officers have carefullyi
onsidered all the charities in which!
ur congregation or any considerable
art of it are interested, and adusted
their proportionate needs. It
3 a simple matter for anyone who
rishes to give one a larger percentage
han thus allotted and a smaller to
nother cause to write over the one
he name of the other. The treasirer
will invariably note the change.
)nly be sure to substitute rather thaa
unit! The most common criticism ia
hat "it robs Peter to pay Paul." The
ontributor will simply divide into
wo what formerly he gave to one. /
Fourth?I have heard from manjj
hurcheB who have tested the theories
tere expounded. Not one of them'
>ut reports substantial increace in
he amount given for the local
hurch. One of the largest congregations
of our own denomination,
srhich for ten }ears found itself with
i deficiency each May 1, last year, at!
he close of Its first use of the twoiffering
envelope, had a balance in
he treasury, despite unusual ex>enses.
This is but a sample testV*
nony, the unexceptional rule. It ac:ords
with the law of the kingdom,,
'there is that which withholdethi
nore than it meet and it tendeth to
>overty." 'jj
Thef fifth objection Is "possible In- v
ibility to carry out the promise.r"
Don't dress your charity in widow's
veeds unless you are poor as that
yidow of the two "peelings." If so*
five less. Don't stop giving, unless
ill income stops. With God, the;
ralue is not in the quantity, but the:
luality.
Against these five objections, I
vould array five of the many bene- v
Its:
1. Consecration. At the treasury]
Christ beheld "how" (not how much)|
he multitude cast. He wants you t?
five, not because He needs it, but bemuse
you need It. Weekly giving is
m antidote vs. covetousness, a weekly)
eminder of whose we are and whoml
*re serve. The nickel piece for whichl /
he poorest of us has a dozen use?
neans more to Christ than the supgrluity
of the rich, although written inf
our figures. With the method now]
tdopted, the minister is relieved from:
hat hateful announcement: "Tfie of*
ering this morning is for our own!
ihurch support," and from a prayen
vhich Is largely over his own salary.
JVith the new giving is the new recog?<
litlon that our field Is the world. !
2. Committal. It is committal to
l principle. Having once gone
hrough the agony of giving up for;
i year to "the other man" acertafal
)art of our income, while the convalescence
may be slow, the acute pain
s over. From that time we are cusodians
of the Lord's money, our dutjl
jeing simply to hand it out. With/
>ther causes, apparently of equal '
vorth, we have npthing to do, unless 4
)ur income is suddenly Increased, |
otherwise we are "Immune." Some 1
>ther person must take care of them. I
[f we have given all we can in the 1
'deacon's fund" compartment, when
i hard luck story comes to our door,
vithout a twinge of remorse we can
send the applicant to a deacon's care*
3. Comprehension. Every one giv-*
ng meanfe every one interestedJ
3reat causes being more frequently
ind regularly beforeyou,you will want!
:o know more about your frequent inrestment.
a once a year advertisenent
is good. A once a week adver*
isement that your responsibilities
md privileges are unbounded makes
neaningful your prayer. "Thy king-*
lom come on earth."
4. Consecutiveness. Annual col-ections
are variable as the weather
md the state of the general health.
They can be and are annually dodged
)y otherwise regular worshipers.
The double envelope is a faithful reninder
to those ill, out of town, or
>therwise absent one Sunday that
;heir gifts will be expected by tho
3reat Head of the Church just the
same. The sinews for the war against
sin should not depend upon the
ilouds, nor the emotional result from
;ither a poor presentation of a good
:ause or a fine presentation of a poor
:ause.
5. Convenience. Most people are
jaid monthly or weekly. The woman
>vho could not give $25 in a lump ;
>um could easily give fifty cents fifty- H
wo times a year. One dollar comes fl
larder than ten cents a week. In a
rear, it is only one-fifth as much to
he cause. If the home church deunon
annual collections for
ts support it would be dead.
Only the inherent energy of mte;Ions
keeps missions alivo during
.hese weary annual offering years..
,Vhile the board knows that a church!
vill give, because its "foreign mlsiion
Sunday" comeo at the end. of the
'ear, while foreign mission expenses
:o 'on all through the year, good
noney goes for interest on borroweAapital
to supply this deficiency. j
Christ confronts every Christian *
vith "send or go! Your money or
our life!" Your money is your
ife's expression. Our rendering per
lead for running expenses is six times
hat of our gift to Gnd. I have no
arcastic comparisons to make. I but
ay your own thought, "These things
iught not so to be." I aunounce the
.doption of a plan for changing them,
remind you that machinery is no
alue without power.
The Power of the Word.
I knew a man once whoso wife beanie
intensely interested is a revival
neeting as a seeker of salvation. He
vas a skeptic and a scoffer, and when ;
le found her constantly reading the ^
Bible searching for some promise
hat would comfort her, he said:
"Bosh ! I will give you enough of
hat, I will read the Bible to yoti
very day, till you are sick of it;" and'
ie began. Day by day when he cam?
lome he read the Bible?chapter.
.fter chapter, having his wife sit and
isten. At last one day, when lie had
inished the third chapter of John, he
&id:
"My wife, won'.t you pray for me?i .
am n poor lost sinner;" and they,
melt and prayed, and God came in
aercy, and both wore converted.?
teformed Church Record.
* }
What Holiness Is.
TJr\li'nofo io on i n fi n 1" t r> mmnaacinn
or others. Greatness is to take the
ommon things of life arid walk truly
mong them. Happiness is a great
3ve and mucii serving.?Olive Schreler.