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V ISSUED SEMI-WEEKL^ L. H GRIST & sons, PnbUshen.} % ^atnilj getospger: <Jfor tht promotion of the folitital, gotial, Agricultural, and (Eommn;tiaI gnlyijsts of the fjtoglt. {TER*SiNOlE0LiYYFAi^'cE?TY8A''c'!' ESTABLISHED 1855. YORKVILLE, S. C., WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 17, 1902. NO. 101. THERE! By Rev. Charle Author of "In His Steps," "Robe Copyright, 1901, by Charles M. Sheldon. SYNOPSIS OP PRECEDING CHAPTER8. r John Gordon, heir to riches, refuses 8 v. a position in his father's bank and F leaves home, father and sister to work for the people of the slums. Sordid ^ money getting and a life of frivolity t ??tn him finrdnn's society n tttc ICV UUI115 iv ! sweetheart, Luella Marsh, refuses to share his life at Hope House, "an oasis of refuge and strength" among tenements, saloons and vaudiville halls. ( They part. Gordon goes to Hope j House and meets its head, Miss Grace . Andrews. He decides to join the slum D settlement. His friend, David Barton, v a successful "yellow" journalist with a fc bad cough, asks him to conduct a reform page in the Daily News, edited by one Harris. Gordon considers the 1 offer. t 1 CHAPTER in. b 8 IMmBMlBtl "ir?uf8 vour* IlilBly'c ^3 ^ k?* ^olm ?ordon P EMMW i|| Bpoke slowly. r< 111 . YjMl "David, do you i< if''/ \ llll know how much si ' / \ y?u have tempted n "For your good." "I'm not so sure. The offer Is full of ri possibilities. Still"? tl | "Well, don't keep anything back." t) "The News itself?you know my ideas about it The paper is full of y sensation; it is unreliable; it is not Journalism that any thoughtful man re- c. spects." e ? J ?"v\ r? I- rv If _ "What difference uueu wai uau ~ ^ you have your own page to do with it h as you like?" Barton spoke with apparent indiffer- e ence concerning bis friend's estimate u of journalism, as if he either acknowi- c edged the truth of Gordon's statement **" or did not care to argue it E "Of course it makes a good deal of u difference. Do you think Harris is sincere in his reform movements? Is a he using the paper to help the people v or is he simply taking up popular fj causes because he is shrewd enough 4 to see that it Is good policy for the News?" 8 < Barton looked at John Gordon quiz- 8 eically. n "Do you know Harris?" a "I've seen him, but I don't know d him." o .... ... 3- * tt.'. rwv> rwi t "JNeiiner qo i? ac d put f^,vw,vw t< into the News, and the paper has made d at least half that In the time It has been a going. He's proud as Lucifer and has h Lucifer's ambition. He's willing to do c - anythiug except get into Jail for the p paper, and he'd probably do that if It a would Increase the circulation. But v what difference does it make to you, t John, so long as you have full swing d in your own department?" J "I don't know that my work will v really be helped by going into print li To tell the honest truth. I have no e faith in Harris, and I have a contempt for his journalistic methods. Now look I here." p John Gordon picked up from the ta- d ble a copy of the News and began read- r lng some of the headlines. "Microbes In Car Straps! Menace c to Traveling Public! Danger Explained by Professor Roitger of the Universi- p ty!" I ^ "The Richest Woman In the World! Her Daily Routine! Over $500,000 fl Worth of Gems In Her Hair at the c Court Ball!" t "The Cost of One Day's Spree For \ Two Fourteenth Street Bloods! Item- t ized Account!" i "Mrs. Brown Calls Mrs. Jones a Liar! They Have a Scrappy Time of c * * *- Al? n" v -? ' Thn VoforhhnTsa 1 II ID lilt* Dui'H laiui auc Take a Hand!" s "Theological Set-to at the University! i - Professors Do Not Agree on Figures! c One Teaches That Adam Never Existed!" 3 "The Newest Fad! Society's Craze f For Egyptian Mummies! The Latest 1 Developments!" c "The Tallest Woman In America! { - Her Diet, Daily Habits, etc." 1 "Rottenness at the City Hall! A I Fnll Exposure of Dr. Lumme's Ex- 1 travagances! Policeman Murphy c Scores a Hit at Alderman Schwartz! i Turn on the Light!" < "Thoroughbred Toy Dogs! An Ex~ pensive Luxury! Mrs. Near Has a c Choice Collection!" ? "Ghastly Suicide of an Old Sailor! I Purposely Jumped Into a Vat of Boil- t Ing Acid! Full Particulars!" ? "War! The Sultan Is Growing More < Defiant! Orders Out Bosporus Fleet!" t "The Sandal Craze! Boots and Shoes t a Back Number Soon! Pictures of 1 Latest Styles!" I v Gordon threw the paper down, and < Barton laughed cynically. "What's the matter with It? At any I imer; s M. Sheldon. irt Hardy's Seven Days," etc. ate, they keep buying It Whoever ees an Index or a Standard around lope House? There you are! If you rant to reach the people, do it through he medium that the people use. Think f over 3.000.000 readers of the News very day." "Yea think of it!" exclaimed John lordon. 'Think of the stuff they read bat is untruth and exaggeration and i.vsteria about matters that are of no aiue. A column to Toy Dogs!* kept >y a rich woman who spends enough aoney on them to save the lives of a tundred babies! It Is this sort of thing hat makes anarchists and criminals, ill Harris wants out of a reform page - - J : * ik. T9m 3 10 uuvenue uie papci. i lu uiuiudi ure of it" "Probably!" said Barton dryly. "At be same time you can be getting In our reform work through a paper hat is read by the very people you rant to help." "But It Is not read nor believed in by he very people who have It in their ower to help the people. David, the >est people In the city don't care for he News. They laugh at its editorials nd don't care for its Influence. It realy has no Influence with them." For the first time David Barton eemed disturbed. The frank criticism f his friend concerning the News in espect to its printed matter had noi loved him. But this last statement Duched a tender spot Barton's pale heeks flushed, and he struck the table dth bis clinched fist "Better not tell Harris that! He has n Idea that his paper runs the town, [e thinks his editorials make public entiinent." "He's wrong!" John Gordon spoke "Hia oHitnptnla hnvp nn filiph ower. They are rated along with the est of the paper. The fact Is the yel>w journalism works out Its own detraction Inevitably. Its days are alsady numbered." "Our circulation is increasing." "All the bigger fall when it comes," eplied John Gordon briefly, and then ley were both startled by a voice from tie doorway of the room adjoining. "Beg pardon, Barton. I couldn't make ou hear, though I knocked twice." Barton turned his head as a man ame into the room and exclaimed, "Mr. [arris!" at the same time sending a uestioning flash to Gordon, "Wonder ow much he heard?" Harris walked up to the table and oolly helped himself to a cigar from a ttle Chinese pot and lighted it at the Igar jet "Mr. John Gordon, Mr. Harris," said tarton, who bad fully recovered his sual indifferent attitude by this time. "Glad to meet you, Mr. Gordon," aid Harris, putting out a very long rbite hand. John Gordon took it altiough instantly he felt a most intense islike for the man. He was of a thin, wiry physique, mooth faced, a bloodless complexion, tralght lips and cold gray eyes. His lanuer was perfectly self possessed, nd neither Gordon nor Barton could etect any sign on his face that he had verheard a syllable of their talk beore he entered. He was faultlessly ressed and had the general appearnee of a man who has exhausted a irge part of his interest In life on acount of a large number of intense exeriences. At the same time there was serious alertness about him that was ery noticeable. He was not blase In he ordinary use of that word. He evlently had boundless faith In himself, ohn Gordon had no difficulty In telling rhy the man produced such a dislike q him. It was because of his absolute gotlsm. "Mr. Gordon Is my friend; the one mentioned to you the other day as a osslble contributor in a new departoent" Barton said as Harris still regained standing near the table. Harris looked at Gordon and said arelessly: "I understand you are going to ex>erlment down in the slums around iowen street" "I may live there. I don't know ibout experimenting," said John Gorton coldly. He was rapidly beginning o have Miss Andrews' dislike of the cord "clnmn" na ho hnd ulrondv frrown o have a hatred of the Idea of "expermenting" with the people. Harris walked over to a chair at the >ther end of the table, and after a sience which neither Barton nor Gordon leemed inclined to break he said, leanng a little forward and speaking with aireful emphasis: "Mr. Gordon, I am prepared to make rou a proposition that I hope you will it least thoughtfully consider. The s'ews now has a circulation of 700,000 :op!es a day. That means that practi:ally 3,000,000 people read It At least ?olf Hiq nnnnlflttnn of tho <>ltv rpful mV )aper. It Is especially true of the .vorklngmen, the poor and the people >f the street and the shop. The boulerard may not take the News. Granted." Gordon, looking at the newspaper >wner, thought he could detect Just a shadow of resentment under the apparent Indifference. "But the slum akes It and reads. I'd rather have the slum reader any time The boulevard loes not make anything but itself, but he slum makes conditions. Now, then, his Is my proposition: I will give you :he entire control of a page of the S'ews to write up the conditions of the :lty where you expect to live or work, day I ask where? Mr. Bnrton has not uformed me." ' "I expect to live as a resident In Hope House." "Goodl" Harris exclaimed with an eagerness that was unra'stakable. "You couldn't do better Hiss Andrews of course has made her work known everywhere. She has been an occasional contributor to the News. You couldn't strike out ou a more popular appeal than from that place as a center. See here Let me block out a programme for a page that will set this city to thinking as It never thought before." He at once outlined a series of subjects for a reform page from the social settlement viewpoint which was simply marvelous In Its understanding of the conditions and the needs. Barton, with a born newspaper man's instinct, grasped the details with rapidity and showed bis interest by an occasional Interjection or hint that at once led off into further possibilities. Even Gordon, with his growing feeling of repulsion for the man. which increased every minute, could not resist an admiration for his crreat shrewdness and in sight And all the time he was blocking out the page Gordon thrilled at the vision opened up of what might be done for the people and by them if once a daily that was really theirs lived Its life for theirs. "Of course I understand," Harris had at last added, "that all this will mean a tremendous amount of work. That Is what a dally pAper means to everybody connected with It But It need not mean that you would have to give up residence In Hope House. In fact It would be better to continue your actual touch with the district so as to be able to give what you write for the paper color. I also realize that you have need of money to carry out some of these plans. That is the reason I stand prepared to make this offer. If yon will undertake this work. I will pay you $500 a month and in addition help carry out some of these ideas where money is needed. I don't care to say Just how much I'll give. Time enough for that when we get to it" He stopped aoruptiy, ana men, to the surprise of the two friends, he suddenly rose and said as he came up to the table and took his hat, which he had laid down there: "Don't answer now. Give It consideration. Whatever you choose to arrange with Barton will be satisfactory. Barton, you'd better get out to Colorado for a month, as I advised. Enowles can manage very well for awhile longer. Good night" He walked out, and Barton and Gordon sat silent for a moment "Of course he heard what you said about the paper having no Influence with the best people," said Barton, with a chuckle. "I believe he dld/trnt his manner did not betray It except once." "Yes, I noticed that Oh, the old man would give his long white hand to possess real influence. That's his ambition, my boy. All he said about the boulevard and the slum was pure nonsense. He doesn't believe It any more than 1 do." "I believe it, though. He spoke the truth whether he meant to or not" "What difference?" David Barton spoke carelessly. "But this proposition, John," he added, keenly watching Gordon. "How about that, eh? The opening, the leverage, the money. Walt a minute. This confounded cough Is going to get me again." He went Into the other room this time, and his coughing spell lasted so long that Gordon was alarmed. He went In where his friend was sitting with his head down between his knees, his whole body racked with the effort, and when It was over he still maintained the Bame position until Gordon remonstrated with him. "David, you're In no condition to go on with work. You're killing yourself on the News. I had no idea you had such a cough. How long have you been this way?" "The average limit of usefulness on the News," said David Barton as he lifted up his head, "is less than ten years from the time of beginning. I've been with it now going on six. The rule In a daily paper Is, no old men In any department. If you see an old man anywhere around the office, he's a visitor or a stranger. Modern Journalism Is a man killer. I'm just one of the fools caught between the rollers. See? It's like this. Harris prizes me because I know how. But when I once let go he knows he can get another fool to take my place. Food for the lion. Three cheers for the press! It's the great agency of civilization. Ifs the prize life taker. It's the?look out! Here I go again!" He put his head down and coughed so long and violently that at the end of it John Gordon found himself on his knees by the side of his friend holding his head and now thoroughly alarmed. "Why. this can't go on, David," he expostulated. "Yes. it can apparently. At least it seems to go on quite easily." "But you'll simply commit suicide if you don't listen to reason and quit nil n'SM.lr tr\V ot lofldt dlv mfintllR." ail nuiu ?v? m v ? "Can't do It. Got too much at stake," Barton answered. He rose, and. going Into an adjoining room, he took some medicine, bathed his face and came out looking so much better that John Gordon was amazed. "Only a trifling little cough, John. It's not on my lungs. Just a throat trouble. I got caught out in the rain down near Hope House the other night and didn't have a chance to steal an umbrella without getting caught j again. Come in and let's have out the reform business. You can't let Harris' offer go by. It's too much of a chance." "But I'm keeping you up too late," Gordon said doubtfully. "Why, old man, haven't you sent your things over here to stay until you get married or something? Whose are those dsids out in the hall?" "They're mine, I expect. I sent them over this afternoon. The break had to i "/ am prepared to make you a proposition,." come at home some time, and I knew yon would take me In at any time." "Sit down, thei^" said Barton, giving his friend a push Into an easy chair. He himself w.ent over to a lounge and lay down on It, turning his pale, thin face, with Its great, glowing eyes, toward John Qordon. The grim death had already laid a long hand on Barton's chest, but with the stubborn cynicism of his character Barton refused to acknowledge any mastery, although, contrary to most victims of consumption, he knew and acknowledged himself that do what he would he could not shake that hand off. John Gordon mournfully eyed the recumbent figure on the lounge. "Forgive me, David. I have been so busy over my own plans that I have not thought of you. Why have you not let me know about"? "Oh, lef s talk of your matters. Mine can wait Besides, don't you know It's not the thing to talk to sick people about their condition? Don't make me believe that I have anything. How about Harris' offer?" "I have decided not to accept it," replied John Gordon quietly. "That's plump. Say why." John Gordon did not answer at once. "I've already told you partly. Seeing Harris confirms my opinion concerning his Insincerity. He simply wants to use the fact of my connection with Hope House to get. a feature more or less sensational for the News." "You didnt take to him very lovingly, did you?" Barton chuckled. "I found myself In danger of hating blm." "Still, Harris has his good points. He's the most egotistic n.an I ever knew, but with the exception of that, and perhaps a dozen other remarkable faults, he's Interesting. He's interest nig," Barton repeated. "You're too particular, John. I don't see why you can't carry on the department and make things around Bowen street just hum for reform If you have the paper to help you. If you expect an angel to come along and give you a page of his dally to boost your reforms, you'll have to wait till angels are thicker In the newspaper business than they are now. I dou't know any myself. My acquaintance so far has been In the other direction." "There's another reason 1 haven't given for refusing Harris." John Gordon spoke thoughtfully. "I want to know the people before I begin to talk or write about them. And I ought to spend at least ten years of my life in seeing, bearing, thinking, knowing, but not much in writing?not yet Do you know what the bishop of London said awhile ngo?" "No; I don't know the bishop." "He said: *1 have found that Isolation of one class from another is the root of all social evils. Contact with the neglected people and the lapsed masses was the method of Christ's reclamation of the lost It Is the only method that can succeed now.' Isn't that quite remarkable for a bishop? I met him In London. He Is the most all around Christian I ever saw. I ?t~v. v,n^ n hlohnn lllra thot hpre. W1BU LUC/ UUU u Now, you see I don't want to go Into the newspaper business In the sensational way that Harris wants. I need to live among the people for a period, at least until I am able to talk and write with some sort of knowledge. Harris' idea Is to burst out with a page of denunciation and hysterical pictorial exposure of human conditions, purtly for political reasons, but more especially to get the News before the public and do a big advertising business." "You wrong Harris, even at his worst," said Barton decidedly. "I can't help thinking he's got some human kindness in him. He may be all egotism, but he's not all bad. There's the money offer. You haven't considered that" John Gordon seemed troubled for a moment "Of course we shall need money for all the things we plan. Miss Andrews was wishing she might secure $5,000 for tlje new dormitory. She goes out and lectures every winter to make expenses." "Yes. The city will kill her. It will kill her. I tell you!" cried out Barton In a genuine burst of rage. "The world kills all Its prophets and reformers in one way or another," said John Gordon sadly. "The blood of the martyrs is the seed of the church. The very people that applaud Miss Andrews and say she Is doing a grand work don't come to her rescue in any great numbers. And she Is In sore need right now." "Then why don't you let Harris help?" "He can help If he wants to. lr ne'S sincere, he will do It without my going on the paper. I've made up my mind," Gordon hastily added as Barton made a gesture. "I think I can secure some money from men in the city." "Let me know how much, so we can publish the amount will you 7" Barton said dryly. John Gordon did not answer, and after quite a long silence Barton said suddenly: "By the way, I suppose Miss Marsh will help you, of course. You'll be maroof nn foolHon/u tnvothpr In UCU UUU DV V Up tuuivtvuvv . Hope House? How did you win her over to your extreme views?" "I didn't We are not going to be married. She refuses to go with me Into Hope House. Oh, David, do you think that was a mistake?" It all poured out at once, because all the evening John Gordon had been longing to confide in the one man In all the city whom he loved and trusted. Everything they had been talking about so far had seemed in one sense of small importance compared with his heart's hunger for her, which had deepened with every moment's absence from her. His immediate resolve to go to Hope House, his talk with Miss Andrews, his visit with his friend, the incident of Harris and his oiler were not evidence of his insensibility to that resolve on her part to refuse his choice of life work. It was only characteristic of him to go straight on with the details of his life no matter what occurred. John Gordon was the last man in the world to withdraw into a sullen or moody isolation on account of great private trouble or sorrow. But he longed for sympathetic counsel. And his impulsive outcry simply voiced another fact of his nature, the fact of his affectionate trust In friendship. a trust that kept no event secret that a friend might wish to know and share. TO BE CONTINUED. piSttUatwouss lading. COL. BRYAN IN NEW HOME. He Han Moved Into Fairvlew, HI* 920,000 Home. Col. William Jennings Bryan furnished additional evidence this week of plutocratic tendencies by removing from the brick barn which has been his home for the last nine months and taking possession of the $20,000 house he has been building for a year on the highest point of land near Lincoln. If AAflf Vllm Q Hftlp 1*11". oi>nn otxy a iv wdi. u ...... more than $20,000, and it is a well proportioned building, made of pressed brick and stone and fitted with handcarved oak finishings throughout. It faces directly west and contains 21 rooms, including parlors, a reception hall and library downstairs and" bedrooms, a nursery, a schoolroom and gymnasium upstairs. The kitchen is in a connected building. Entrance is had by way of a great half-round veranda leading into a beautifully carved and finished hall. From the porch one can see for many miles in any direction. Off to the east and south stretch great reaches of farming lands while to the north and west down in a tree-embowered valley nestles the city Itself. J Falrview is the name by which the Bryan home will be known. The name is appropriate. Although three miles from the city, the house is fitted with every modem convenience. Its owner does not eschew luxury in the interior appointments and costly plumbing, electric lights and artistic decorations, with city water, make It a thoroughly modern house. Cement walks and driveways give easy access to the various buildings, and seemingly no money has been spared to make life within its walls worth living. Colonel Bryan is a rich man and rapidly getting richer. He has been accused of acquisitiveness, but many of his critics have unjustly diagnosed his case. Mr. Bryan likes money and he has a keen appreciation of what it will afford its possessor. He has 3pent less than his income every year of his active life, and it is now getting so large ? unwiolrlv? for him. US LU U^> amivov u?? f< His newspaper is firmly established. Although he has disdained business assistance, he has made it a big moneymaker. Thirty thousand dollars a year is a conservative estimate of his share of profit from it. He began with 60,000 circulation and n<^w has twice that number. He limits his advertising space and rigidly refuses to give trust-made goods a place in his advertising columns. His actual wealth, aside from his newspaper, which is paying a good interest upon a third of a million, is little less than $150,000. His yearly income is not much below $50,000. He lives modestly and simply, but well. A private tutor comes each morning for his two younger children, but his daughter, Ruth, is a dally attendant at the state university, where she is a sophomore. He has several fine carriages, but much prefers to use the suburban street car that passes within a short distance of his home each hour. Much of his writing is done in his home. A part of it is dashed oft while on his lecturing or campaigning tours. He is little seen about the office of his paper. This occupies the lower floor of a downtown block. His brother, Charles W. Bryan, is the business manager, and one trained newspaper man is the only editorial assistant he has. He still rigidly adheres to his determination to print his opinions upon current political topics in his paper and invariably denies himself to the interviewer. He attends a little Methodist chapel In the nearby town or wormai, no Presbyterian church being In the neighborhood. In manner and dress he is as unassuming and careless as ever, and he goes about among his fellow-citizens, sometimes with a mailsack half full of exchanges over his shoulder, without exciting comment. He gives largely to charitable and benevolent organizations, and is free with purse to campaign committees. He Is getting a great deal of enjoyment out of his life and he looks it. And his bank account is growing larger each day.?New York Sun. 1/HKUVLiTi ur uniiAi niiiua. Superstition By No Means Confined to the Ignorant. It is a mistake to imagine that superstition is a weakness confined to seamen or persons of feeble and uncultured minds. Men possessing the strongest intellects have been swayed by almost childish credulity with regard to the supernatural. The great Napoleon was a firm believer in presentiments. Once, when he was anxiously awaiting news from Egypt, he heard that a Nile boat had run ashore and that the crew had been put to death. This boat bore the name of L'ltalle. Napoleon was much concerned when he heard this last piece of news. He looked upon it as an omen that his hopes of annexing Italy to France were to be shattered. Nothing would induce him to believe the contrary. "My presentiments never deceive me," he said; "all is ruined; I am satisfied that my conquest is lost." The presentiment in this case certainly became true. A famous writer has said of Napoleon: "He was all star and destiny." Certain it is that Napoleon had faith in his star, and it appeared to be the ruling omen of his entire career. Gen. Rapp, who for a long period was Napoleon's aide-de-camp, refers to the subject in his Interesting memoirs. Rapp had just returned from the siege of Danzig, and seeking Napoleon's presence, found him gazing intently through the window, his eyes fixed upon the heavens. It was some time before the emperor noticed the presence of Rapp, when, suddenly seizing him by the arm, he exclaimed: "Look there; up there!" "I see nothing but the pale twinkling stars," replied the astute aide-de-camp quietly. "What!" exclaimed the emperor excitedly, "Is it possible that you do not see my star? The fiery red one, almost as large as the moon? It is before you now, and, ah! how brilliant." Then warming up at the sight, he fairly shrieked as he cried out: "It has never abandoned me for a single instant I see it on all great occasions; it commands me to go forward; it is my sign of good fortune, and where it leads I will follow." The Roman Admiral Applus Claudius, on being informed by the augurs on the eve of an engagement that the sacred chickens would not eat, said: "Let them drink, then," and ordered them thrown overboard, after which he attacked the Carthaginian fleet and received a terrible thrashing. The astute Bismarck was supersti tlous, tne numDer imrieen navmg avery deep meaning for him. He would never sit down to table when he made the thirteenth. Count Bismarck, Bohlen states that one day in 1780 at Rheims, when the chancellor gave a dinner, one of the invitations had to be countermanded because otherwise there would have been thirteen at table. Gen. Boyer, Bazaine's envoy, arrived at the German headquarters at Versailles on Friday, October 1; but Bismarck would not see hira till the next day, saying that he would never do anything of importance on any Friday, much less on a Friday the date of which coincided with the anniversary of Horchkirk, Jena and Auerstadt. He was talking one day of a defeat the Germans had experienced in the course of the campaign of 1870. 'I beg you to observe, gentlemen,' he said, "that that happened on a Friday." Bismarck did not believe in a lucky or an unlucky day, but he believed that his life was seriously influenced by a mystic number. The prosaic Dr. Johnson always counted his steps before entering any place, so as to arrange that his right foot should always precede his left; or, again, touched every post which he passed along a certain route, fearing that, if he missed one, some misfortune would befall him. Lord Wolseley writes: "I not only believe in many superstitions, but I hug them with the warmest affection. They link me, if not with a spiritual world of which I know nothing, at least with a glorious and artistic and picturesque past of which history has told mp much. I believe in ghosts and in amulets. I have worn out the rims of several hats since I have been In Dublin through my salutations of single magpies. That mystic bird abounds In Ireland; and I would not on any account walk under a ladder, etc. In fact I am prone to adopt any superstitions I am told of which I find others believe in." The Shah of Persia is superstitious. He always carries with him when he travels a circle of amber which Is said to have fallen from heaven In Mohammed's time and which renders the wearer invulnerable; a casket of gold which makes him invisible at will, and a jewelled star which is potent to make conspirators instantly confess their crimes is always worn upon his person. Abraham Lincoln, a few days before his death had a vivid dream in which he beheld his own body lying in state. The vision made a great impression upon him and he was rallied on account of it by his wife. Ulysses S. Grant would not have been a military man had it not been that his rival for a West Point cadetship had been found to have six toes on each foot instead of five. Gen. Grant was a firm believer in dreams, and to dream of crocker/' was sure to be followed by good luck. The night before he received his appointment as colonel of the Illinois regiment he dreamed of being in a field filled with beautiful china. He immediately informed his wife that prosperity was about to dawn upon their fortunes. Admiral Farragut when at the masthead of his flagship praying for divine aid, previous to passing the forts at Mobile Bay, distinctly heard a voice saying: "Keep on, keep on." Nelson always kept a horseshoe nailed to the mlzzenmast of his flagship Victory. i Regarding celebrated statesmen and] meir superstitions it is saia tnat secretary Carlisle would begin no new thing on Friday. Secretary Blaine would never turn back to enter his house after leaving It in case he had forgotten anything. Secretary Folger all his life believed that there was a charm for him In the number "three." He laughed at It, but let It dominate him. Such a hard-headed old statesman as Thaddeus Stevens believed that there was luck In picking up pins. He never passed one, If he saw It, without picking It up, getting the point before him. Senator Chandler counts white horses for luck. He counts every one he sees until he reaches thirty-one, and then he begins over again. Senator Sherman would not extend his left hand In greeting or receive one extended to him. Senator Edmunds regarded it as unlucky if the first person he met on emerging from his house was a woman and would return for a fresh start.?United Service. LIVED LONGER IN BIBLE DAYS. Scientist Tries to Show Men Reached Age of Thousand Years. In scientific or quasi-scientific interpretations of the Old Testament attempts have been made to explain away the repeated and definite statements as to the longevity of the first generations , of men?of Adam and his descendants. It is possible that men actually lived a thousand years in those times?in amazing contrast with the present span of life, which, indeed, goes back to the Psalmist's era? "The days of our years are three score years and ten," said the Psalmist, "and if by reason of strength they be four score years, yet is their strength, labor and sorrow; for it is soon cut off and we fly away." How Is this to be reconciled with the chronicles of the Bible? This and similar questions relating to the longevity of humanity in Biblical times are discussed In a book just published in Russia by a learned physician ?A. A. Piasetskl. The title of the work Is "Medicine According to the Bible and the Talmud," and it is an attempt to prove the complete accuracy of the statements of fact made In the Old Testament in regard to early mankind. A full account and review of this book appears In the Novoye Vremya, which praises the book as sound, reverent, scholarly and ingenious. The article is condensed by The Literary Digest In the following free translation: "Eight of the forefathers lived nearly a thousand years each. Adam lived 930 years, Seth 912, and so on until Enoch, who lived only 365 years, and of whom the Bible intimates that he died prematurely. Of each of the others it is said, 'And he died,' implying a perfectly natural cause, while of Enoch it is said: 'And he was not, for God took him.' Lamech's days were 777 and Noah, 950. When we reach Terah the change is striking; for his days were only 205 years, and there is no intimation of any special cause of death. Abraham, who died in a good old age, an old man, and full of years, lived altogether 175 years. "How is this decline in longevity to be explained? The sceptics hold that in the antedeluvlan period our month was called a year, and that, therefore, the average length of life was eighty years. But the Bible distinctly recognizes a monthly and an annual period of time, and the theory in question is purely arbitrary and fanciful. "There is no reason for doubting the literal accuracy of the Bible's reckoning. The conditions of antedeluvian humanity were such as to permit the length of Individual life alleged in the Bible. There were, we know, giants In those days. The animals, too, were of stupendous and colossal proportions, as the bones discovered In the earth's strata fully attest. We must apply different measures and different criteria to the beings of that era. "If the men were giants their organIsms were naturally stronger and their health Infinitely better. It could not well be otherwise. The climate of Mesnnotamia fthe cradle of the human race) Is even now mild, warm, beneficent and favorable to longevity. Then it was much more so. And men led different lives. They lived under the smiling sky, needed no buildings to shelter them and undermine their vitality; there was food in abundance on every hand to be had practically without exertion. The trees were laden with fruit, the rivers teemed with fish and the meat of one animal sufficed for weeks. "Again, the use of fermented liquids was totally unknown; the grape was not among the fruits eaten by early mankind and consequently alcoholism with all Its evils was absent. Marital life was the natural condition, and apparently offspring was equally divided between males and females, so that neither sex had a preponderance. There was no vice nor violation of law. "Tn\nii this must be added the entire freedom from the diseases due to congestion and the sundry other evils of dense population. There was no rivalry, no anxiety, no 'struggle for life,' and no tax upon the nervous system. Death could only come from violence or old age. "In short, in 3,000 years the average of human life fell from upward of 900 to 260 years and as a result of natural causes."?Chicago Tribune. A Woman's View.?"Think of it, my dear," said Mr. Closeflst, laying down his newspaper. "There are more than two thousand million dollars in circulation in this country!" "Is that so?" replied his wife, cheerfully. "Well, judging from the difficulty I always experience in gettin > you to give me a quarter, I thou'4 tirs there wasn't more than three dr and a half in the whole world."-w/0m" fort. Every one is liable to take; the trouble is that t0? ?Jf willing to do the right t*nS and maK amends. A /'