The weekly Union times. [volume] (Union C.H., South Carolina) 1871-1894, April 12, 1889, Image 1
' -J ^HwiiH giUKHUBv ' IS- V ' 'Wn
' flfuotrb to ^grinrfturf, gortiniltiiCy^^^K^^^HBm^^B ;'"^p*>k.'.:,.
XX.?NEW SERIES. UNION 0. N A" - ^^ff "- ' ftaqffflMHMI 1
- "_i i ' i i i iv ^^tlfc1 BiffTT"! '^w-^ yui-^ii^^^BMKiii iiiiatiaaj^ - V*K*** K 1
wrt ov oaief.
?X BMUE CHANDLRQ. ,
The tears Streamed from her lovoly, eoftbl'ie I
eves.
Flashed wore hor cbooka and bowod her slotidor
fraino
Aa a great gust of bitter anguish carno
And held ber In ita grasp ; it Blowly dies.
Hut only ?s tbo winds do, soon to rise
? With groator fnry, fanning all tho llumo
Of her wild Borrow, 'til aho could not tamo
The flro that raged within ber. I, grown wise
And old and weary, hourd her sobbing sore.
And watched hor with compassion, where shs
aat,
Tbon came a sadden cry as this truth
Flashed through my heart that pitiod her nc 1
more?
Only the very yoang con grlovo like th'it? \
And I would taku hor sorrow with her youth I |
PflflD IITTI T CMll V i
I UUIa LI I ILL LIVIILI i j
The History of a Prudent [
Marriage. \
?,
BX Kiaa MVXiOOK. . 2
jwl .rill III j
CHATTER YIL *
"What Johu Rtenhouso said to his wife ?
when he got Mrs. Kuowle's letter?n very *
brief, simple letter dictated by Lady How- 1
erl>auk at her bedside, and merely stating F'
that sho wished to see her old friend again,
as sho did not think she w s loug for this
world?what ho said, or what he felt, this b
history cannot telL Ho was not a man b
likely to have confided milch of his own *
5>rovious history to h s wife, nor, when o
ilrs. Knowlo afterward saw tho lady, did
that acute matron think her a porson likoly k
to have evinced macli interest concerning a
hor hnsband's early fortunes or lost love?
a nice, pretty-faced, gentle creature, Ian- rguid,
and a little uuinterosting, besides p
being a little lazy, os Indian ladies are apt b
to bo. Doubtless tho marrirgo Lad growu, o
as so many mnrringos do grow, out of mere d
circumstances, and after it tho husband n
bad gono back very much to bis own old a
life the lifo of action, or business, or, ut ti
boBt, of generally kindly bouevolouco?a n
lifo in vh ch Lib ?jto Lokl'ttlo part, or, d
indeed, was capable of taking it. ol
AVhen John Stcnhousc visited Livorpool tr
?for, aftor showing tho letter to Mrs. ci
Btenhouao, in whom it did not excito tho fa
least curiosity, ho started north at once, a)
ovcry ono of his old acquaintances. eB- w
pecially tho Kuowlos, noticed a visible ni
change in him?a certain hardnoss, roti- hi
oenco and Bolf-containedncHa, deeper than li!
ovon tho roaervo of his bachelor days? aa ra
if tho man had withdrawn into himself, el
went his own ways, nnJ carried out his own iu
lifo with a grave and Bad independence, fa
lie apoko of his homo and of his wife with w
a careful tenderness, but his oyo d-d not tl
moisten nor his faco kindle when naming hc
eithor, and thero waa nothing of that total 01
chango from frosty coldness to sunshiny hi
warmth which is ofton seen in the looks
and manner of a man who marries over so w
lato In lifo, if ho marries with all his ?
heart in tho union. In this man's honrt,
good and true as it was, and would always
remain faithful (ill death, for honor's and ^
conscience's sako, to tho woman ho had
taken to himself, still, as any one who ^
knew tho difference could plainly see, and
as Edward and Emma Knowlo saw at a
glance, the ssssikge iorchr ever ?
. tv- .' ?? burning, yet ever unoonsupsed, had novor
really been lighted?nover would bo.
lint Btonbouso had always been a silent jj
anil undemonstrative man; and bis experi- ^
onco abroad bad mado bim moro so, and ^
more sedulous than oven in his youth
over tho keeping up of all outward ob- ^
sorvaucos. Even when ho sat listening to
Mrs. Knowlo's account of Lady lloworbunk's
failing hoalth and the hopelessness ^
of her recovery, and again to that other ^
story, which it had been arrauged sbo j5|
should toll him, and not Emily, of tho cir- B |
CliniKtancoa nf linr moi-nann in Kl?
and the loltor found in Mr. Keudul's desk 11
afterward, bo oxbibitod outwardly nothing
uioro tbuii a sad gravity; in fact, bo Lardly [?
B|>oko six consecutive words. x
"So liko a maul" said Mrs. Kuowlo, balf
bitterly, wbon sbo was retailing tbo con- J?
vernation to ber husband. 'y
"I think it was like a man," said bonest W1
Edward Knowlo; nud bis wife, woman as ul
abo was, quick, impulsive, and bard to boliovo
in what sbo did not clearly see. rocognized
dimly what bor husband meant. Sho 01
respected, and in years to come learned
daily to rospoct more, tbo manly endurance
A wbicli, bcboldiug tbe absolute and iuov- J4
(table, accepts, it, and, wbatovor tbe man
sutlers, makes no sigu, 80
"Tbauk you," Mr. Htenhonso bad said,
holding out bis band to Mrs. Knowlo, m
"thank you for nil your kindness; to me ox
myself?and?to bor! Is sbo ablo to 6eo ^
mo? If so, bad wo not bottor go nt J?
onco?" to
Mrs. Knowlo orderod the ctirrlngo, and xC
they drovo across tbo country?-tho miles to
upon miles of Hat country which mark tbo to
Liverpool shoro?a long levol of roads,
Holds, and hedgos?sometimes green, per- n(
baps, and not ugly, but tamo and uuinter- ev
esting ns a IovoIobs lifo?ns tbe life which
bnd been meted out to these two human
creatures, who, left to their own holy in- nt
Stincts, would have met and mingled to- bi
goiuor, ana nowou on Harmoniously as ono
perfect existence now. fo
Mr. Steuhouso and Mrs. Kuowlo con- Ik
versed versed very little during their drive, Ik
and then not concerning anything of tho le
past. Only once, with nnnecessary cau- M
tion, Mrs. Knowlo screwed up hor courugo
to its utmost pitch, and said: uc
"Perhaps it would ho hotter if you did not til
ppeak to Emily ahout her father." John w
Btenhousc's faco turnod purple-red, and th
his eyes ilamod. o\
"No, I will romoinbor that ho is dead? ?
dead." And within a minute or two ho said
?the bitterest thing ho was ovor known to Bn
^ * Bay?"Mrs. Knowlo, my father died a wj
A month hoforo I was horn, and my mother
V sevon yoars aftorward. l'erhaps it's truo
what a cynical friend of mine usod to do- a
clare, 4 that when ho chose a wife, ho 01
would take care sho was a miserable or- K
phuu.'" M
But they wi ro reaching tho door, whore qi
scarcely any visitors now entored oxeopt to
good Mrs. Knowlo. Soon thoy passed ri
through tho splendid empty house, where gi
tho mistress had been missing so long that bi
her absonco was scarcely noticed. The y<
lurge drawing-room was just as bright, y<
oven (hough tho sofa in tho coiner where p
Emily used to lio was vacated, and had w
boon for somo days. Sho now occupied a
small room much quieter and farther re- M
moved, which had been hastily littcd up io
for her comfort. In a few days more she In
would vanish from that into her own clium- I.
|,av nml liA.1 nnvnr in tin nnrrliwl llmiinn rl
till carried away in that narrow coacli of as
eternal roRt whore wo all Rhall bo laid bou)c ti
day. And that day was not very far oil m
now to tho weary soul and worn-out body
of Kinily Jlowerbank. Ah sho Raid many a bi
| time, life had been too hard for her; she bi
was glad to go to sleep.
When tho strong, lioarly, healthy man, p,
still young in years, and with all his life Kj
beforo him, passed out of tho bright, cln or- jr
fill drAwing-room; full of all sights and j,
sounds, rich furnituie, tho scent of exotics, fj
and tho shrill noto of cage-bird singing? g,
to that tpnull inner chamber whoie the ti
light was subdued, and there was a faint,
oppressive porfumo to mako up for tho lack
of fresh air: whilo a sedate old woman, the fc
nurse of Emily's ohildteh days, sat pcving
at the window, but turning every moment
at the slightest cough or movement of the
motionless figure on the sofa, John Btenhouse
drew back involuntarily. He had
not realized till now all that he had lost?
all that he was losing. Though he had
been told it over and over again, he never
really rooognizod that the woman he once
loved so passionately?the pretty, bright
girl, with her rosy cheeks, lier laughing
eyes, and her heart full of the fondest,
most innocent love, was dying,
He was marriod' now?another woman
owned his duty, and possessed a great deal
of the tenderness that no honorable man
oan fail to give to a creature so utterly deEindent
on him as his wife is?but Emily
endal had been his first love. All the
momories of it, and of her, rnsbed upon
trim with an agony irrepressible. Ho
{rasped Mrs. Knowlo by tho arm as she
vas going inio the sick-room.
"Wait a minute?stay!?say I'll come
ircsontly."
And ho rushed awav. rlnht down th? I
iluiroose, and through iho first opon door
?for it waH hich summer, and tho air was
ull of snnshiiibandrosoB? into tho carden.
It was half an hour boforo ho returned,
rieiwls over whom hung tho sacred shadow
f the eternal parting ?at least the porting
rhich we call eternal in this world?though
t often makes closer and nearer, for the
est of life, those who otherwise would
avo been forever divided.
Perhaps Emily felt this; for as she raised
orself a little from her sofa, and held out
er hand to Mr. Stenhouse, there was not
troco of agitation or confusion in her
tanner.
"I am very glad to seo you. It was so
ind of you to come. Did you leave your
dfo quite well? and all tho children?"
Commonplace, simplo words they wore
-tho simplest, most natural, that could
ossibly bo ohoson?uud yot thoy wore tho
est and safest. They took oil tho edge
f that sharp agony which was thrilling
trough every fiber of tho strong man's
eart. They brought him back to tho comtonplaco
daily world, to his daily duties,
ud his ordinary ways. The wholesome,
iving present came betwoeu him and tho
olirious past. And though it was Emily's
Id smilo, her very tone of voice, and a
ick of manner she had?how well ho roillod
it, of half extending her hand, drawig
it back, and then putting it forward
?aiu, with tho uncertainty that was the
oak point in her character?still ho had
0 dosiro to snatch her to his arms, aiul
aid her there, in her old, familiar place,
ko any mortal woman. 11 o felt iucliuod
ither "to Btand apart and gnzo at her, as
10 luy, consecrated Irom earthly emotion,
1 her almost superhuman peace, or clso to
ill on his knees and worship her, as Dante
i-:~~ ?-v? i ? i
KJX ouipwu uin uuttlliuu WUCU 11U 111UW liUf 1U
ie fields of Paradise. And lio found him>lf
powerloss to say any other words than
ie or two, as brief and inexpressive as
;r own.
"My wife and the childron aro well. It
as very good of you to send fo>- mo, after
had boon so rude, bo ungrateful almost,
i your husband."
Emily bent her head, acquiescing; and
ion, as if with a great effort:
"I bud something to say to you? somciing
I thought you would listen to, from
10, now. I entreat you to accept this
urtUuiBuipt it will bo a good thing for
iu. and an equally gftod thing for Btr
)hn aud Mr. Knowle. iou would like Sir
>hn very much if you know liiui very well,
o kuow nothing about you aud mo till
toly. And ho has been such a good, good
lsband to mo."
"Thank God for that! If?if ho had
son nnything elso than good to you "
And then, shocked l>y tho sound of his
vn harsh voieo jarring on tho stillness of
o room, and still more bo by perceiving
o sudden tremor that came over Lady
owerbank, ho stopped, recognizing the
nctity of sickness?of near advancing
iath.
"Yes," ho added, almost iu n whisper, "I
el very grateful to Sir John Bowerbank;
am not ashamed of his knowing?iniod,
I have boen asking Mrs. Knowle to
11 iiim?how very poor wo aro, and nro
iely to remain; and thut if ho really still
islios mo to accept his olfer, 1 will do my
moRt to prove deserving of it."
"Will you? oh, will you?" clasping her
inds in her old, pretty childish way at
iytbing sho was very ghul of.
John Stcnhouso turned away.
(>li r ...:n j~ v
O.K jr> AlV/l, UIU L Will UU It LKJU'lUhU
>u wiali it?for your snko."
"No, do it for your own," Raid Emily,
ilomnly, with all tlio old childish manner
mo. "Do it, that you mav tako a wise
an's advantage of this chanco of getting
1 in the world, and living fully tlio life
at is boforo you. Tbiuk, a lifo of twenty,
lirty years, with work to do, and money
uso, and influence to mako tho most of,
irtho good of yourself and all that belong
you. That is what I want. I want you
lead your own nohlo, active, useful lifo
just as I onco planned it?though it was
)t to bo beside mo, and though 1 shall not
en soo it; for I am going away, .John?
>u know that?"
Ho could not dony it; ho did not oven
tempt to do so; he just moved his lips,
it they would not form a sound.
"Yes, going away?in a few days, or a
w weeks more, to whoro I know I shall
> quite happy? happier than I evor could
s hore. 1 only wisliod before I went to
t you know the truth. She," glancing to
rs. Knowlo, "she has told you all?"
"Yoh," ho muttorod, but attempted not,
>r did Emily offer, any further oxplanu>u.
Ono a husband, the other a wife,
ith tho shadow of the dead faf her between
em?it was impossible. The past was
rer and dono. lJut the present wa3 peaco
all poaco.
"And now good-by, and God bloss you!"
id Emily, faintly. "Give my love to your
ifo. Doos she know anything about mo?"
"No; I uover told her."
"Ah! woll, let that bo us you chooso.
na ono thing?i know i nave forgotten
10 thing that I had to say to you?Mrs.
nowle, what is it? Oh, my head. Please,
ts. Knowlo, will you help mo?" with tho
aerulous tono and vandoriug oyo which
Id at once how fast her sand of lifo was
inuing. "Yes, I remember now; it was to
ivo you this!" taking a valuablo diamond
roocli from under her pillow, "and to ask
>u if you ever have a little daughter of
)ur own, to givo it to her from mo. And
orhniin. if vonr wife did not ohiect. von
ouldn't mind ending her KmilyV"
Nobody answered or stirred, not ovon
Irs. Knowle, who stood at tho window
i nnrso's vacant place, and .John Kteuouse,
who sat opposite tlio sofa wlioio
ady lloworbunk lay- Bat, with his handaspod
tightly ou hifl kueo, looking at her,
i if ho wished to curry away tho last piciro
of her, \ivid aa lifo and youth, porlanent
as lovo and deatli.
At length ho moved, and, taking tho
rooili from her hand, kissed both, and so
ado her farewell.
"If you couio soon to settle in Liverpool,
crimps I may seo you onco nioie,' said
ic gently, and with a soit of compassion
i her voice, for slio saw that ho was al??itoly
dumb with sorrow. Hut both know
mt this was only a tiction to lndo tho last
ood-by; and whon tho door closed l>evacn
them, both felt that they would
ever see ono another again.
They never did, though Lady lioworbiuik
ved for several weeks longer, and even
U '' I HF- Tf
to BuUlo In Wvo?.kh>L She hoard all about
them from Mrs. Knowle, who. in har ct?a- j
tomary aotive tray, was exceedingly helpful
to the rather helpless Indian lady; ana she
seemed to take a faint, flickering interest
?the last interest of her fading life?in
the bonse they fixed on, the manner the*
furnished it, and their general household
ways. Nay, she sent many little gifts to
them?harmloss, domestio gifts, such as
not even the proudest man could reject, and
which, without making any external show
of giving, greatly added to the comfort of
Mr. Stenhouse's homo. But she never
asked to see him again. She seemed to
feel that the laBt meeting had been a peaceful
closing of everything that bound her
to life, and everything that made death
peinful; apparently Bhe did not wish to revive
either, but lay perfectly at reet, waiting
pationtly for the supreme call.
It oame at last, quite suddenly; as often
hnppons in consumption, when both the
watchers and the patient are lolled into a
hope that is still far diHtant. She had no
one with her, and no time to say faffewell
to anybody; only the nurse, running to her
nnd bending over hor, fancied there oame
through the oboking of the expiring breath
^oEnJUS tolcf SmTand mX. Knowle, and
everybody, that Lady Bowerbank's last
words had been hor husband's name. Nobody
oontradietod the faeL
It may be thonght a proof of the hardness
of John Stenhouso'b heart to Btato
that except the one day of Lady Bowerbank's
funeral, when, out of respect to her
memory, tho office of Boworbauk ?fc Co.
was closed, and tho dorks had liberty to
enjoy themsolves as they pleased?and she
tPnilM liiWA hnnn orlorl r\f if /Inov Vin^lw
heart!?exoept on tliitf occasion the junior
partnor of the firm was never an hour ab<ent
from his desk. He came early?he
went late?ho filled the place of both his
senior partners?Mr. Knowlo, who was laid
op with an attack of rheumatism, and Sir
John, from whom, of courso, little could
bo expocted just now. In every way be
did his duty liko a man; and not one of
those excellent men on 'Change, with whom
he daily transacted business, giving promise
that tho new blood which had coino into
the firm would make the house of Boworbank
& Co. higher than evor among Liverpool
merchants?not one of them over
suspected that within the week a light had
gouo out of this young man's l;fo which
nothing in the world could ever relumo.
Nevertheless, John Stenhouso's life has
neither been useless nor sad. Moderately
prosperous, and widely honorod by all who
know him, externally he may be considered
a happy and successful man. And
his homo, if a little dull somolimes, is always
quiet and comfortable. In course of
time it was brightened by a little daughter
?his vory own little daughter?anu he
called her Emily. In complimont?and
very right, too, everybody said?to the head
of the firm una his deceased wife, poor
Lady lJoworbnuk.,
Emily's instinct?true woman's instinct
?was correct. Sir John and Mr. StenhouBO
becanio fast friends. Such strange
likings often occur under circumstances
which, in meanor natures, produce only
jealousy and aversion. But these three?
;ho two men left living and tho sweet
woman happily dead?were all good poonltv
itniin nf wltnm ltn/1
wronged the other, but hqd all been sinned
against by tho ono Hellish, hard heart that
was now n mere handful of dust. Still,
by the merciful ordinance of 1'rovidonce,
evil itself is limited in its powor against
good, espociaily when after it comes the
?oleiun, healing hand of inovitablo fate,
which tho foolish and bnd resist, but by
which tho wiso and good are calmed and
ioothed.
When Emily was dead, the two honest
men who had loved and mourned her?ono
w ith tho wild, angry passion of loss, tho
other with a half-remorsefnl tenderness?
wore unconsciously drawn to ono another
in a way neither could have expluined or
desired to explain, but both feit it was so.
They sought ono another's company shyly
and doubtfully at first; afterward with a
j-eurning curiosity; iiually, out of warm regard.
Tho groat difference of ago between
them, which might havo been (hat
of father and son, audi tho fact that tho ono
had never had a father nor tho other a son,
also combined to provont all fooling of rivalry,
and to form a bond of mntual attraction
and mutual usefulness. And she
who wus gone, though her name was never
once named between them till Mr. Stonhouso
asked Sir John's permission to eive
it to Lis baby daughter, constituted n tio
stronger than anything oxtomah
Mr. Knowle was a little surprised, and
so was Mrs. Knowlo, to see tho great cordiality
and oven intimacy which, in tho
courso of a year, sprang up between tho
senior and junior partners. But tho
Knowlos wcro both such kindly people
that, though thoy did not understand it?
indeed, would havo expected things to bo
altogether different- they were exceedingly
glad it was so; exceedingly touder, too, in
a half-sad sort of way, over tho baby Emily,
whom good Mrs. Knowlo took to with
a warmth-surpassing evon hor universal
and urdont affection for all babios.
And so tho three households of tho firm
of John Bowerbauk & Co. still subsist?
two rich and childless, ono muoh poorer,
but not without many blessings. Thero is,
at all oveuts, wherewithal to put food into
tho littlo mouths, and clothes on the littlo
bodies, und instruction into (ho littlo
minds; and John Stonhous^ is a good
father, who, in a literal souse, "makes no
step-bairns," but isoquully juBt and tender
with his own and his wifo's (laughters. As
a parent of young children he has boon
also faultless; whnt ho may bo when tho
littlo maidens grow up and take to marrying.
Heaven knows! But tho sharp exKrience
of his own lifo may bo all tho
t'er for theirs.
l'eoplo do say that ono of thorn is not
likely to bo poor all her lifo, but will bo
chosen by Sir John Bowerbnnk as his
heiress, at least so far ns regards tho lato
Lady Bowerbnnk's fortune; his own, Sir
John openly deulures, he means to divido
among charitable institutions, l'oor littlo
Emily, now running about under the shady
alleys of Birkenhead l'ark in her cotlou
frock, and with occasional holes in her
shoes, sho knows not whnt may bo hor dostiny!
Kor does her father- good man?
who watches hor and guards hor, and is
both father and mother to her, for Mrs.
Stonhouse, though sweot as over, has sunk
into confirmed laziness and elegant invalidism.
Her girls aro good children, but tho
applo of tho father's eyo is his own little
daughter; and no doubt, even now, ho
thinks with a certain vaguo dread of tho
young mnn who may be coming some day
to Bnat;h her from hint.
Still, nmler all circumstances, even tho
alarming catastrophe of Emily's marriage.
I think John Stenhouso will prove himself
a just, an imseltish, and a loving father.
Ami if?human nature boing weak at best
? ho is ever tempted to bo otherwise, he
will think, as he doca think, in many a
wakeful midnight, w ith hie wife fast asleep
Inside him. of that quiet grave, within
sound of tho waves on Waterloo shore,
whore lies buried the love of his youth the
ouo woman who would have mado him
really happy and been happy herself who,
instead of dying thus, might have lived to
be the light of his homo and tho mother of
his children poor Emily Kendal.
ITUE ENI>. j
IX LlJfeeON FOR j
Leeeon Text; "Th^JV^cctod Son,**
Hark xJL, 1-12?V>Iden Text:
John L, 1 i?OcnWjentary.
1. "And He began to speak unto them by
parables." This is ono of thfWiany parables
and discourses which He spolA in the temple
and tin the Mount of Olives oA Wednesday,
the fourth day in Passion weefcjy Our leeeon
to-day is one of the last message* of Christ to
Israel ere they crucify Him, in wuch Ho tells
them of God's great care of then* and their
awful treatment of His servant* tad finally
of His own Son.
"A certain man planted a vineyard," so
my Mark and Luke, while Matthew calls him
"a certain h9usehoUer" (Mat. xxi., 83).
From Ps. txxx., &-10; Iko. v., 1-7; wo learn
that the vfaeyard of mo Lord of Hosts Is tho
house of Israel, and the men of Judah His
plana.* Aa to the hedge and winefat and
i w*v mtwH.rng na great care or uts vino*
the parable are vfrfcnUy the shepherds, the
rulers, who ought to have cared for the vine*
yard and rendered the owner the fruit thereof.
God separated Israel from other nations,
delivered them from Egypt, brought them
near to Himself and modo them His peculiar
treasure, giving them prophets and priests
and dwelling Himself in their midst, that
they might glorify Him and moke Him
known to other nations as tho only living and
trno God.
2. "Ho sent a servant that Ho might receive
tho fruit." Surely this was reasonable,
after Ho had bestowed such loving coro upon
them. Tho servants were tho prophots, as it
is written: "I sent unto you all My servants,
tho prophets" (Jer. xiiv., 4); and tho fruit Ho
expoctoa was righteousness and obedience
ana some gratitude for mercies bestowed.
8. "They caught and beat hixa and sent
him away empty." Micainh was smitten,
imprisoned ana rod on broad and water (II
Cnron. xviii., 23, 26); Jeremiah was smitten
and put in the stocks (Jer. xx., 2), and was
told that ho spoke falsely and that God had
not sent him (Jer. xliii., In.
4. "Again He sent unto then another servant."
Wo would think that the ill-treatment
of one servant would load tho owner of
vineyard to punisUJho husbandmen and remove
them from Cnfe care of tho vineyard,
but tho name of the owner is "tho Lord, tho
Lord God. merciful and gracious, long suffering,
ana abundant in goodness and truth"
(Ex. xxxiv, 5, 0), and it is written of Htm
that though they believed not, hearkened not,
understood not remembered not, nevertkelces
Ho saved them for His namo's sake, and
many times did Ho deliver tliom, forgiving
them but taking vengeance upon their inventions.
(Ps cvi., 7, 8, 24, 25-43; xcix., 8.)
a * ot another He sends in His lovo and
long suffering, only to be treated worse than
tho former ones; "they woro stoned, they
wore sawn asunder, were tempted, wore slain
with tho sword; they wandered about in
sheepskins and goatskins- being destitute, afflicted,
tormented;.of whom the world was
not worthv: they wandered in deserts, and
in mountains, and in liens and caves of tho
earth."
0. "Having yet, therefore, one Bon, His
well beloved, llo sent Him also last unto
theni-saying tlioy will reverence My Son."
Now Ho speaks of Himself as tho onlv begotten
of tho Father, tho prophet like unto j
Moses, the antitype of all priests and prophets
r.lin true spro?'rt of Jeitovull (Isa. xlii.. 1).
7j 6. "Tlisis tlio heir, come let us kill
Him." Instead of reverence and respect for
tlio only Sou of their gracious and loving
Lord, tnis is their language. As when Jo- I
soph's brothron saw Liu; coming they said: |
"iiehold, this dreamer conioth, como now
therefore and lot us slay him" (Gen. xxxvii.,
10, 30), so these Jewish brethren of Christ
conspire against Him and dctcrmino to kill
llim. Ho is tho true Joseph, separate from
His brethren, tho shepherd, tho stone of Israel
(Gen. xlix., 23-20); but as Joseph's brethren
afterward bowed down to him and accepted
him as their deliverer and the nourishes of
them and their children, so Israel shall yet
bow down to tills same Jesus and accept Him
as their deliverer, their own Messiah.
9. "Ho will come and destroy tho husbandmen,
and will give tho vineyard unto others."
This is their answer to His question: "What
shall therefore tlio lord of the vineyard do?"
(Matt, xxi., 41.) Josns also adds: "Therefore
1 say unto you, tho Kingdom of God shall bo
taken from you, and given to a nation bringing
forth the fruits thereof." (Matt, xxi., 43.)
In order to understand this wo must distill- J
guish between the covenant with Abraham,
Isaac and Jacob, which still holds good and
shall lx\ fulfilled Israel notwitbaiuling
their disobedience (Mie. vii., 30; Jer. xxxi., 3f>- i
37), and the sqiccial covenant with Israel at
Horob, to make them a kingdom of priests,
an holy nation, a peculiar treasure, if they ,
would only lie obedient and keyp God's covenant
(Ex. xix., 5, 0). This lost,covenant was ,
not mado with their fathers, but with them (
as a nation at Iloreb (Duct, v., 2, 3), and it is
this which by tho rejection of their Messiah
is now lost to them and given to tho called |
out ones from Jews to Gentiles, tlio church,
which Peter calls "a royal priesthood, an
iioiyuuuon, a peculiar or purcuaaou, poopio"
(I. Pot. ii., SI); aud who are olso called "kings
and priests unto God" (Rev. i., 0: v., 10).
From these called out ones, tho nody of
Christ, tho brandies of tho truo vine, tho
Lord of the vineyard now expects much fruit,
aud He lias told us that tho way to bear fruit,
is to abido in Him, continue in llis love, niul
patiently submit to the purging or cloansin;;
which He sees that we from time to time
ueed.
1(1. "Havo ye not read! this Scripture?" No
doubt they had read it, .but tlioy hail not ol>sorvod
it, tlioy had notreceived it, they had
read it blindly, just as .wo so often road the
Scriptures, from a senre erf duty, without
Stopping to_ tliiv'^-vhat'thov mean or what
tlioy say to us iiiuividually.
11. "This was the Lords doings, mid it is
marvelous in our eyes." God is quietly but
surely working out His eternal purpose which
Ho purposed in Christ Jogus (Eph. l./J-ll; iii.,
11), and when it is all complete we. shall say
coneerniug it all: "This is tho Lord's doing;"
and not only shall it bo w< <ndorful in tlio eyes
of the church mid in tho eyes of Isr.uJ, but
also in tho eyes of tho whole world.
12. "They sought to lay hold on Him, but
feared the pooplo." His libur had not Quito
fully come to givo Himself up to tliciu, mul
therefore they could not tmch Him. Noono
an touch a child of God or harm a lmir of
its head without His permission; and if wo
ore found in the woy of dnijy we nood foar no
evil, for wo shall surely stay in this mortal
Ixxly till our work is done; ctlicn glorious rest
with Christ in Paradise, mul at tno rcsurreo
tion of tho Just a Ixxly just like Josus's Ixxly
mid glory indescribable.
"They left Jlim aud went tlieir way." That
is what the rich young man did, nnd all before
and silled who have not rcccivotl .fesus.
He is the only way to rest aud true happiness;
those wlio prefer their own way will
never find either. What does your soul say?
Self or Christ, your way or His way??Lesson
Helper.
William!). HowicLLs'hostof Morula
in all )??rtu of tho country will bo
grieved to learn of tho blow that has
befallen him in tho deuth of his eldest
daughter, Winifred, in the twenty-sixth
yenr of her ago. Sho had been an invnlid
for several years, but such Ihireavements
are not much, if any, easier
to bear when they come for having been
foreseen and dreaded, Mr. Howells
has two children left, a younger daughter,
who is studying art, aud a son now
at Harvard.
Sonic of Drunkard*
"W? come, we oome with sad array,
And In prooession long,
Tojein the army of ttie lost.
Three hundred thousand strong.
"Our banners beck'ning on to death,
Abroad we hare unrolled;
And Famine, Care, and wan Despair
Are seen upon their fold
"Ye heard what music choors us on?
The mother's ory that rang
80 wildly, and the babe that wailed
Above the trumpet's clang.
"We've taken spoil; and blighted joys
And ruined homes ore here;
We've trampled on the throbbing heart
And flouted sorrow's tear.
"Wo oome, we come?wo've searched the
land,
The rich and poor are ours,
Enlisted from the shrines of God,
From hovels and from towers.
"And who or what shall balk the bravo
That swear to drink and die?
What boots to such, man's muttered curso
Or this, that spans the sky?
iTGgjfigBBii, ">
Onward for bell?from rank to rank
Pass we the cop again.
"We come?of the world's scourges, who
Like us have overthrown?
What woo had ever earth like woo
To our stern prowess known I
"We come, wo come to fill our graves,
vu wuiuu miaii snine no star.
To glut tho worm that never dies,
Hurrah! Hurrah I Hurrah:"
?National Advocate
Tho Poor Children.
Have we uo pity for tho poor, miserable
children? Is there no volco strong enough
to plead "llko angels, trumpet-tongued,
against tho deep damnation of their taking
Dtf?"?of these children who. in the longuago
of Southey, are not so much born into tha
world as damned into the world, damned,
predestined, as it wore, to live lives of disease
and degradation, becauso of the drink
in the midst of which they are brought up
and of which thoy have the hereditary
taint in their very veina?Canon Farrar.
A Radical Remedy Required.
The total abstinence movement has made
many sober men, and it is not proposed to
abate any effort along that line; but, nevertheless,
tho fact must be recognized that tho
total abstiuonoe movement does not cure the
drink evil. Some other remedy must bo devised
to supplement the work of the church
and the temperance society. A ptiysician
would not follow a mild method of treatment
if the disease grew more pronounced and
virulent all the while. He would try a
remedy that was radical and heroic. The
total abstinence movement is too mild for the
drink evil; it needs radical and heroic treatment.?IHonecr.
Civilization Will Not Always Mean
ltnm.
That the Indians are capable of civilisation
has been abundantly proved by the Cherokecs.
Thero are about 25,000 of them, of
whom half are full blood. Thirty-five per
cent, of the national income is spent upon
schoois, and fifteen per cent, upon asylums.
They have a written language, and claim
that every citizen can read and write. liesides
tho common schools tboy have four excellent
academies, and each child is allowed
a iwini Mini each year for its schooling.
Think of a city among us with 25,000 inhabitants
thus equipped for education! They lack
one mark of civilization, however, tiiev have
no eftlocns, and boast oi less drinking among
them than among a like number in anyother
community. By this sad lack some of
our statesmen may be discouraged with respect
to further attempts to civilize tho redmen.?Christian
Standard.
Tho Saloon a Deadly Cnrso.
No one can doubt that wo need the church,
the school and the factory, but in the light of
our present civilization no one will set up a
claim for the saloon on its own merits. One
bos said tho saloon is the heaviost clog in the
progress of our country. Every evil that
curses our nation to-diur flows to a great extent
from tho saloon. It is tho prolific source
of most of our political corruption. It traffics
in tears, groans, blood, vice, misery and
death. It (frags in dishonored graves a hundred
thousand human boing annually.
Is it any wondor that Gladstone declares
tho saloon to bo a greater ovil than war,
pestilence and famine combined? Why, in '
the presence of such desolation as this, war is
a white-winged angel of peace, pestilence a
healing fountain and famine a table of plenty.
The saloon has been compared with tho
deadly Upas tree, which not only kills those
who touch it, but sends out its terrible p oison
Bven to those who endeavor to shun ic.
If we consider tho snloon from a moral
itandpoint it is u curse. It is the direct cause
nf three-fourths of tho Sabbath breaking,
profanity and gambling. It desolates a
million homes, and transports men beyond
the bounds of reason into the seas of dissipation
and ruin. It makes 500 maniacs and
:>00,000 criminals every year. It is tho saloon
in which a million men have lost their
solf-rospect, their health, their character,
their all. Men with defiled clothing, wrecked
hopes, starving children, empty purses, lostmanhood,
tho product and support of the
taloon. But yet this monster cries out for
State anil National authority to ply its dreadful
work, saying: "License nio to sow the
seeds of shame. License me to make widows
and orphans. License mo to write disgrace
upon the fair forehead of helpless innocence.
License mo to bofog the mind to paralyze
the reason, damn the soul. License me to
Incite the red-handed murderer to his terrible
deeds of deadly violonce." But tho saloon
gets all it asks for.
It is a financial curse. Nino hundred and
forty-five millions of dollars are spent over
the till of the rum seller. More money than
we spend as a nation for all civil service,
army, navy and Congress.?Pioneer.
Temperance News anil Notes.
It is said that 50,010 people go to bed drunk
in Glasgow every Saturday night.
Bands of Mercy nro being formed in connection
with tho Loyal Temperaneo Legions
of Ohio.
A Kentucky W. C. T. U. woman rocently
said she had six unanswerable arguments in
favor of prohibition?her six sons
In ono court of London twonty-soven out
of twenty-eight casos of attempted suicido
within a short time wore traced directly to
jritik and tho twenty-eighth was doubtful.
l)r. Daniol Dorchester is responsible for
the statement that a distillery firm within
three miles of the Massachusetts State
House lias a contract to furnish 5000 gallons
of rum dailv to tho African trade for the
next seven years.
i'rofessor Kovnievsky. of the Chair of
Mental Disease at the University of Kharko!T,
Russia, has published a book in which
he strongly denounces the giving of alcoholic
beverages to children and onlar;es on tho
propriety of not administering alcohol as a
medicine without first ascertaining whether
the patient has an alcohollo diathesis.
The W. C. T. U. of Columbus, Miss., rocently
sent an earnest request to every
clergyman in the pluoo to preuch a sermon
on "The Evils of tho Open Saloon." The
plea was considered in the ministers' mooting,
and the chairman mado answer by a note
saying that the ministers, after prayerful
consideration of tho request, deemed it "inexpedient
to comply."
Mrs. Mory A. Latlirop, of Michigan, who
has been dublied by her admirers "the Daniel
Webster of the feminine world." has a poor
opinion of saloon kcopors. In a lecture at
lhtttsbiirg she said: "Cannibalism is decent
compared with the saloon business. I have
more r'es|?ect for a savage who will kill a
missionary, cook him and eat him, than for
a man who will allow the liquor business bocnuso
it will lessen his municipal taxes."
Tho Saviour's Sympathy.
Whilo the storm was fiercely blowing,
While tho son was wlldlv flowing,
Angry wind nnd angry billow
Only rocked tho Saviour's billow,?
J06U8 slept.
But when sudden grief was rending
Human hoarts in sorrow bending;
When Ho saw tho sisters weeping
Whoro the brother's form was sleeping,
"Jesus w opt."
IiOst in Sight of Homo.
A few months ago, during ouo of tho sovero
storms that visited Colorado, a young
i.. ,.1-hA \ T.. 1.1 . I. .
Uinu [WI lBUai 111 Bl^Ub Ul UU111U. 1U Ul^ UV
wilderment ho itasscd and repassed his own
cottage, to )io (lown and dio almost in ran go
with tho "light in tjio window" which nil
young wife nod placed there to guide him
home. All nlone she watched tho long night
through, listening in vain for tho foot-steps
tlmt would come no more; for, long before
tho moniing dawned, tho icy touch or death
had forever stilled that worm,
loving heart. Tho sad death was
mo^st^wddor^by tiio foot thathe^vas lost
from tho Pother's house aro lost in sight of
homo, in tho full glare of tlie Gospel light 1
They havo tho opon Bible, overflowing with
its calls and promises, the faithful warnings
from the pulpit, the manifestations of Goa s
providence, nil tending to direct their steps
heavenward,and yet from all these they turn
away, waiting for the more convenient BoaB->n,
and aro last in sight of tho many mansions.?Fortoanl.
Human JudgmcntB,
Jesus never mentioned nny of earth's great
men (so-called) with words of praise. There
had been great conuuerors beforo bis time,
liko Alexandor tho Great, but ho nover alluded
to them. There had been philosophers,
liko Plato and Arlstotlo and Socrates,
but ho novor s]K>ko of them. Rich men hna
received tho notioo of their fellow men, but
he never mentioned them by name. None of
thoso of whom human history speaks most
largely came in for a word of commendation
from him or his apostles in later yonrs. This
should bid lis pauso, and muke^us stop to
think whether our human judgments are not
totally faulty. Huvo wo not put tho seal of
prAflfllfKa U'horA If- <1/UM nnf l\nl/w%<v
In what respoct is tho world hotter to<lay
for tho exlsteneoof tho rich man like Cra>sus,
of conqueror# lilco Alexander, of i hilosonhors
liko Pinto, of author* like Cicrol
What really valuable thing should wo lose
had such men never cxistou? (lather all the
conquerors of tho world together, and ray
whether they have l?ocn as useful to tho
world as one John Bunvan or one John Wesley.
Put all your philosophical books togot
her. and declare whether thoy havo accomplished
ns much for humanity ns the
epistle of Paul to tho Gnlatians. Mutch Bisnunck
and Luther, and judge whether ik>H1
ician or preacher has the boat of it in tho
long run. On the other hand, if you blot
out Abraham, Joseph, Moses, David the
singer, Elijah, Isaiah, John tho Baptist,
Psul, from human, history, you usher in
blackness of darkness*.?A. P. ScliauJJler.
Practical Id lb.
Daily and hourly wo ineofc questions that
demand an iiUiut-uinco answer?questions
that relato to food and ra!in"iit, to the hand- 1
to-hand eonlliet with earthly necessities.
Porploxltlos arising from tlieso sources uro
soi tie times the occasions of greatest jieril to i
Christian faith. Many a soul has overcome
in spiritual comhnt, only to fall lieforo the
enemy ossaul ing him through outward
nud visible circunistancos. They have for- 1
gotten that Christ is their Lord in material
good as well ns in spiritual. They have i
failed to follow him in principles revealed j
for practical life, and have regard
<1 Christ a saviour only in i
spiritual things. Ono has forcibly said, '
" 'Ho that folToweth mo shall not walk In I
darkness.' That saying has a lower and a s
higher fulfilment. In the 1 wer, it refers '
to practical life and its jioriilexities. Nobody 1
who lias not tried it would Indieve how many
difficult ios nro cleared out of a mnn's road
hv tho simnlo act of trying to follow Christ.
No doubt tliore will still remain obscurities
enough us to what wo ought to do to call for
the best exercise of patient wisdon; but an
enormous proportion of them vanish
liko mist when tho sun looks through
when oneo wo honestly sot ourselves to
find out whoro the nillnivd Light is guiding.
It is a reluctant will ninl intrinsic 1 iking < and
ctlsiikings tJiat obscure the way for us, much
of tenor than real obscurity in the way itself.
It is seldom imjiossihlo to discern the divine
will when we only wish to know it that we
may do it. And if ever it is impossible for
us, surely that impossibility is like the cloud
resting on the tabernacle? a sign that for
the present His will is that wo should be still,
and wait and watch."
Tlio Anchor of tlie Soul.
Walking, on a day ono summer, through
tho vast navy yard of Portsmouth, England,
I came upon a slnvt calks 1 Anchor street.
There, side by side, in long lines, were laid
multitudes of tho liughest anchors. You could
not look at tho e immense and gruppling
flukes, and mighty iron shafts, without a
very real feeling of a resiful mastery ovor
tides and storms. With her enblo fastened
to one of those gre it anchors, and with that
anchor getting grip mi the bottom of the
son, en lee shore could threaten, or devastating
breaker harm the gallant ship.
Do you reinenilier how in the Enistlo to trie
Hebrews we are told of the ancnor of tho
soul!' The anchor of the soul?what steady,
masterful word is this, amid the tossings and
the; changes and the (lushing uncertainties oi
our lives!
And will you notice a peculiarity of this
anchor of the soul? Wo nro told It entoreth
into that within tho veil. Tho veil In theold
Temple was the symbol of separation between
God nnil man. And in this scripture
about the anchor of the soul, the veil stands
for whatever distance, or mystery or sinfulness
may divide and hinder us from God and
hide Him from us.
Tho great navigator Kir Francis Drake
name n voyage round the world in tho ship
Golden Hind,?n little vessel of but a hundred
and twenty tons. At last, after nil abscnce
of two years and ton months, ho
nroppeu iiih alienor in licptroru naritor.
The gr. at Queen Elizals-th refused to
KUinmon him to Iter palace to make
liiin knight: but went herself to
Poptforl, and, sta' ding with her roynl feet
on the deck <>T his little lait triumphant vessel,
laid the sword upon his shoulders, and
hade him stand ln-fore her henceforth Kir
Francis Drake. The great queen knew how,
right royally, to reward those who added
glory to her crown. And she gave him n
crest he might wear proudly ever after?a
ship in full sail with a cnlde running up to
Heaven, an emblem of the Divine guidance
which had helped him to do the, till thcn,uuheard-of
deed.
Kir Francis' crest is n kind of nicture of
the Scrijitiire word nlmut this anchor of the
soul. For this anchor of tho soul is not
fli'a; into any sea-bottom; does not go down
ii^P any shifting worldly placo or thing,
out upward til s anchor of the soul is cast.
The hawser which holds this anchor passes
up and through the celestial spaces, through
every veil of any tort hiding tho face of Clod,
and there, in the place of tie* s-leetest Divine
Presence, the tliikos of this anchor of
the soul seize uiul hol l to the vei y buttresses
of (Sod's Throne; and this anchor to Ood's
Throne koc|>s moored even u poor human
soul
Not like a ship driven of tho storin, and
flung into the blnek jaws of cruel reefs,
whore the breakers dash and tear, need any
of us ho. For we may have a hopo which if
as an anchor of tho soul, l><>t h sure and steadfast,
and which enterotli into that within the
vail.?"The Hmok in tlu Way," by llev.
Wayland lloyt,
"Bilaiitjnffy . cBOPLR ^vl1 ^jfl
TO President has an office oat. J
Prince Maurice of Hanaa'ia dead. ;( *j 1
TTrrca Alexandria of Serrla la thirteen. " 1
General Boulanger will Tlsit London In
Jon*
^ue King of Denmark in the Czar's father- ? V
Miss Braddon has written orer lilty
novels. > V,Q|
Cardinal Newman Is now In his eightyninth
year.
Postmaster-General Wanamakbr is a
Presbyterian.
Chief Justice Fuller Is popular with
his colleagues.
A son of Charles Dickens is arising statesman
of Australia. lie
The King of Greece is an enthusiastic and ' ' q
successful lis her man.
The Emperor William of Germany will
islt Constantinople in the fall. ^Jj
Senator Hearst, of California, has $100,000
Inrested in thoroughbred horses.
Mr. and Mrs. Gladstone are preparing
for the celobration of their golden wedding. in
A Texan ixietess, Mrs. Elizabeth J. Hart- . -flH
ford. Is said to be a lineal descendant of Wal- . ' ''J
tor Bcotk . ^
It Is noted that "President HarrlsonVtijttMlM^H
day mail lies unopened on his dehk till Man? \ ~
day morning." s
Pierre Loullarb, the wealthy tobaccontstj
is agreak bln^fancier and daUghts In ^
1 MOIIlg |IUW?OUUVO.
Only throe of the War Governors are now
living?Blair, of Michigan; Curtin, of Pennsylvania,
and Kirkwood, of Iowa.
Captain John Ericsson left an estate
valued at about $150,000, which is divided 1
among his relatives and business associates.
The wedding of His Grace of Newcastle
leaves the Dukes of Portland and Somerset
the only bachelor Dukes iu tho English peerage.
William E. Boudinot, at whose suggestion
the Signal Service was established, has
just died at Pittsboro, N. C., at tho age of
seventy-five years.
MilCharlks Johnson, aged twenty-three,
son of a Kansas City grain dealer, has been
offered a situation as artist for Harper's
Weekly at a salary of $10,000 a year.
The famous French physician, Charcot,
the specialist in norvous diseases, has a royal
income from his practice. His fee from the
Emperor of Brazil alone amounted to $8000.
The Emperor of Austria Intends to visit
England tnis year in such strict inoognlto
that no ono but hinmlf and his attendants
will know auythlug about it till ho is at
home again.
Bishop Liohtfoot, of Durham, .England,
makes it a rule to spend his Episcopal in- v
come ($35,000 a year) on church and educational
work, and not a shilling of it has
gone into his own pocket. X
Dn. Nathan IIazen, of Marshall, 111., is
remarkable as being probably tho sol* sur ivor
of the battle of lake Erlo, fought
SeptcmLor 10, 1813. He served ou Perry's
flagship, and is now ninety years old. ,
The annual sales in Marshall Field's great 9
dry-goods store in Chicago aggregate $30,
000,000. This Tost business employs 3000 ^
people and is personally directed by Mr. 4
Field, who is at his desk from 8 o'clock until
5.
Mrs. Margaret E. Sangstsr, has accepted
the position of editor of //arper's
'inrnr, mads vacant by the death of Miss
Mary L. Booth. Mrs. Sangster has been for
several years the "postmistress" of Harper*s
Young People.
Dr. Richard M. Oatlino, the inventor
of tho famous gnu, is now oyer seventy . W
ears old; with a full, gray beard and such a "
kindly fare and mild pair of eyes that no
one would ever suspect him as the inventor B
of 'murderous war weapons.
Postmaktkr:General VVanauaker has
a special telegraph wire running from his
business establishment in Philadelphia directly
to his ofllee in the Postofllce Depart- j
ment , By this means he is kept informed of
what is being done in Philadelphia, and can
be consulted at any moment. His corre- '
ipondence has reached such immense proportions
that he still retains in the city nls conBdential
clerk who accompanied him from
Philadelphia. .p.
MUSICAL AND DRAMATIC.
???
Kate Field is lecturing on Prohibition.
Christine Nilsson was born in Sweden in
1843.
Cr.ara Morris, the actress, is ill in St
Louis.
Ada Reran, Augustin Daly's leading lady,
is worth 1150,000.
it u ? 111 .... U/vllaalra i
duutii a.1u 1>akhjcit will iuuujvmn ^
$1,500 a weok for next August.
comedian wi i.i.i am j. florence wos
bom ill Albany, N. Y., in 1881.
Maime Van Zandt is having great success
in Italian opera at Kroll's Theatre, Berlin.
"Tiik Mikado" has been produced with
much success at tho Oartnerplatz Theatre in
Munich.
A new theatre, to cost nearly $'<'000,000, is
to be built on the Champ de Mars, St. Petersburg,
Russia. k
Edward Scovel, the Auiorican tenor, has
met with distinct success in Chicago as Faust
and Doa Jose.
Daniel ft. Maouinnis, tho well-known
comedian, die<l in iioeton u fow days ago,
aged ilfty-five.
Mr. Dudley Duck's cantata called "The
Light of Asia," has been presented at ftt.
James's Hall, in London, with signal success.
,
Mn. Crotty, the leading baritone of Carl
Rosa's operatic company, is a great sprinter, .?*.
holding the championship of Ireland at 100'
yards. .
Andrew Carnegie, tho millionaire Pennsylvania
ironmaster, is about to build a big
music hall in New York which is to cost $1,- , t
000,000.
La Scala, the great theatro (n Milan, has
seats for 8000 persons. Covent Garden, iff
Ixmdon, Ins &>00 soats, and the Vienna
Opera, 'j400
Beethoven's birthplace, at Bonn, for
years post a music hall and drinking bar, has
been purchased for #1000, and will be restored
to its former state.
it is reported that $l,.V)(),Oi)0 has boon subscribe
1 in Wall street for the new amusement
structure to t>e built on the site of the
Madison Square Garden, NewYorlc.
Manager Daniel Frohman, of tho New
York Lyceum, has engaged Elsie I-eslle, ths
Little Ix>rd Kuuntleroy. to play a dual rols
in "Prince and Pauper" next August.
A nkw play, "Corporal Jack," based upon
the American Involution, has been produced
with great success at Amberg's Theatre,New
York city, with August Juukermanu in the
titular role.
Count Von Moi.tke, though eighty-si*
years old, fully retains his love for musio,
and hardly ever misses a court concert. He
used to lot I frequent performer ou the piano,
too, but has given it up.
On the personal application of Fanny Ja .
Davenjjort, the actress, Governor Taylor, of
Tennessee, granted a pardon to Charles Tab ,1
lx>t, the Memphis hotel clerk who stole #&>,000
worth of her diamonds two years ago.
Durino a booth and Barrett's performance
of "Julius Caear*'at Boston, a party of W
Harvard College students volunteered to act
as the "mob." When the stage manager
gave the signal for t'uein to cheer during the
scene Iwtweou Brutus and Cassius. they responded
with a "Bah! rah I rah I HarvarJ,"
and that ollicial feii liinp on a chair.
Manager Abbey has had unusual hard
luck with some of his greatest attractions
during the past two rears. lawt season V,V
Gerster hroko down at the very beginning of
her American tour, and young Hofman deserted
his manager just as a substantial re- ,
turn for the preliminary outlay was beginning
to bo tnade. Now, Miss Anderson has
been forced to retire at a tip-A when her ill- 2
uess will cost her managers in the nefgh'jorhood
Of $30,000,
"'Cjf
~ , j