University of South Carolina Libraries
Eatl BeMf COME TO THE Mouzon Grocery. EARLY JUNE PEAS. FANCY SWEET CORN. BARTLETTE PEARS, CALIFORNIA PEACH ES, PINEAPPLES. TOMATOES, BEANS, Etc. All kinds of Fiavorings, Candlist', Crackers of all kinds. and fre.h BUCKWHEAT, P ANAK FLOUR,! Catsups, Pickles, .1lince 'deat, very choice Apples in quart eans Tapioca. Vernic-elli. Postum Cereal. Cigars and Tobacco. The: 1)est of IGroceries, and Veg"eta1 bles c: every varierv. The finest'grades 6( Tea and Coffee. Housekeepers. give me a trial anu I will please You. P. B. MOUZON. Doors, Sas, Blinds Dorsh eh Sand MOrs,t HaroudwLa and PaitsM. Windo an aerilas , cat.f CH RL-STN S. C~ . L he st PERFECT FIT1IlNG s cie CLOTES ? In THEN-\ COME OR SE-ND TO US. hiD We have the best equipped Tailor in- Establishment in the State. ac We hand!< L High Art Clothing a Su snoll andl we carry the best line of a HasadGn'2urihnsmtef weor, a h iomndsyo, t Mor.lKing a wndsot sts.,~ CHARLESTON,- S. C. de bie PERFESAND SAVED Y in Weiveeestnsuppedn TCouhr solyade cBronhiys Atha Pelne- o mna aGny Frurisg ina-h Askippe, ostrseine moen hro Cereup and thwl omend Cou. tour.NoPyPrc50.$. CoeR. Kig. Loreat Drg Stor, HaRmoesethor oto inen.o for treerepot onpatn Fo fre le OsADS SAVEnt Ofiet WAH INGTO NN DC. a Cods Brncits F AsthGIGE, e-or moi D a EverS, Pluiy a MrpeHANING, So. Thott Ghound Whoopin. Co ]h Cu. DAo S Pa.Pic 1.&I c Tea boteare T MeR.B.NINeGru Storea Attoey btins and F oreignLu 0 1m Job Priting. tht U . S-- P ~en O - ~~ te WASNEY GTON .C.A Na DR.J. RA. GEIGRD, o Sumer, S. C.s Rrine NrIWo rk toTeTie.ffc.s By CHARIES Ni. SHOI * Azther of "In His Steps""Robert Hardy's Se Gurpyright,1.XU, byl Charles M. $-h CHAPTER IX. Wht right,=hav 01 to takto m0,o, ARTH to earth, ash es tZo ashes, dust to dust," said PauA Falmouth as he stood by the grave of Rufus Gordon. "Here to await the ierl- resurrection in the last day and annearing of the Lord Jesus Christ. ol Gordon, with his sister and r aunt, Mrs. Hester Wayland, Ru Gordon's only Sister, stood on the ser side of the grave. Mary was avily dressed in mourning and clung John Gordons arm sobbing. Fal uth ofered a brief prayer, pro anced the benediction and then came und to the three and shook hands tly. The crowd of acquaintances t had known the distinguished finan e departed, discussing as they went future of the business involved by death, and its relation to the son, o was a stranger to most of the men the city, except as they had read of eccentric career at Hope House. 'Strange how a man of Gordon's ex : methods can neglect such a thing. remember now there was Judge wis of the circuit court neglected." "Gordon isn't the first man to put off tending to a matter of that sort. I ppose the estate goes in absence of will to his son?" one of the visiting sends of the broker questioned. es, and the son is a crank, I'm Id; been living in the slums for a d." The speaker got into his auto bile, and he and his friends were n speeding toward the city at the e of thirty miles an hour. Gor 's fad was a slum. The broker's was a racing machirne. There are s and fads. 'I think I could give a guess at Gor n's failure to make a wvill," quietly narked another financier, who had n present at the funeral. is companion gave him a question ;look. 'He didn't havre much of anything to 1," was the answer. 'How's that?" The exclamation ex essed great surprise. "Gordon was eof the solid men of the city." 'It may be. But, mark my prophecy, eold' man lost his cunning along to rd the last. Those who watched closest saw signs of breaking wn in him more than a year ago. went too heavily into L. and D. ck. Conway's deal last spring nd out bad for Gordon. No one ws how hard he was hit at the le, but--you watch developments. If son gets the house and lots out of ats left, he will do well." 'He was not" The old man was strictly honorable his relation to all trusts. All he t was his own, so far as that goes. t I am much mistaken if he did not e just about everything." )uring the week that followed Rufus rdon's alrs gradually became nmon material for gossip on the 'ect. Ten days after the body of "wathy banker" had been put in ground the business world knew it, with the exception of his home a small annuity belonging to his tighter, the wealth of Rufus Gordon d vanished, dissipated in that kind speuation which borders on gain ng so closely that the most conscien s lusiness men cannot always de e here legitimate business ends d the gambler's luck begins. )own at Hope House Paul Falmouth, io had come..in to consult with Miss idrews abouttsome work his people d volunteerech for- her, was talking r John Gordon's affairs when he nie into the library. Miss Andrews is called out, and th~e two men were 't together. Since Barton's death rdon had felt drawn toward Fal )uth. There was something very olesome and helpful about the mar en one came to know the real mar neath the scholarly, refined, deeply sitive nature. 'Then your father's death will really ke little digerence wvith your fu T\ery little if any," Gordon answered avely. -Mary is going abroad for ar w: Aunt Ihester. Poor Mary! e is just about broken down with all at has happened." Then you will keel) on here?" "es. There is nothing else for me tc .Father's business passes into the eiver's hands. Practically all h< I, or all we supposed he had, is gone, nt Hester will take Mary~ into he: me when they rearn." 'almouth was silent a moment. Thel: leaned over and put a hand on Join rdon's arm. "Do you know I have had a grea' mptation of late, espe:iall since thi 'e"-he was looking out of the win w-tzive up my parish and comn wn here with you' Gordon"s face lighted up. "Thal od be a great thiu : fr usi But" 'ut a 'cowardly thing for you tc '. You aire ight." FuIi mouth said iitlyi. "Whyv should I run aiwa:y fron .e lard wor- hr e IIi'L am's Aud yet >don, no nman kcnows, unless he ha en in the ministry, th~e enormous de adls on the profession. I am no cakng in boastfulness or complain hen I say that no profession require laid his- hana -atectionately on ial Falmouth's arm. He did not know just what else to say. His thought of the church had coincided too closely with the minister's to enable him to come to the defense of the church as it seemed to need defense In the face of Falmouth's doubts. The minister smiled at Gordon rather sadly. "I may be tired at present, but that does not account for my present posi tion. Don't let it vex you," he added quickly. *"I ought not to have deliv ered my little woe here. This house is the center of its own peculiar sorrows. God forbid that I should introduce into It my own selfish egotism or even my personal struggles for light in my own darkness." "Always room for one more, I am sure," Gordon protested, but Falmouth shook his head and refused to continue the discussion. Ie had risen to go when Miss Andrews entered with a glow on her face that struck both men as a new look. "Read that!" she said, putting a let ter into Gordon's hand. The letter was from Mrs. George Ef fingham. My Dear Miss Andrews-Pardon my de lay In answering your beautiful letter. My grandson has been very Ill, and the care of him has confined me constantly at his bedside. I am not quite as young as I used to be and begin to feel the weight of my years on my body, though my soul is still fresh and vigorous, thank God. So poor Mr. Barton has passed on. I shall enjoy having time enaugh to make his acquaintance over there. He was a brave and noble soul and is now enjoy ing his reward. I do not know that you were at all acquainted with him, of course, but It was, as you know, through his correspondence that I first was influ enced to think of your particular work as a worthy place Into which a little money might go for humanity's "ake. In one sense, therefore, he is the real donor of whatever seems to come from me. On condition that my name is not used anywhere on any buildings that may be erected and also on condition that the pa pers do not get hold of the matter and ask for my photograph, with a biograph ical sketch, I would like to give 3100.000 to Hope House to use in any way you and your workers think best. When you have used that up, I will give another hundred thousand to be spent In the same or in any other manner you may decide. Now, my dear friend, don't draw up any resolutions of thanks. Just simply cash the check I have today deposited with the Bank of Commerce and use It as quick as you can to help those poor little children. I don't see, myself, what you can do to better or brighten- their lives very much. You said in your letter to me that the tenement house conditions themselves were getting worse all the time. If you put In parks and playgrounds, it will only help the situation in the way of relieving misery. It won't remove the cause of misery, will It? But the Lord knows that in this world of all kinds of trouble we are to do the best we can under condi tions as they are and hope some time to get deep enough down to humanity's sin and suffering so as to reach the real causes of human trouble and remove themt. When we get to that place, I am con vinced we shall simply find that God and man have got to work together like good friends to bring'.about results. With the best of wishes to you in your noble work and with prayers that those children may have some good times to make up for all they suffer, I am heartily your friend, MRS. CAPT. GEORGE EFFINGHA4I. John Gordon had read the letter aloud so that Falmouth could hear, as Miss Andrews said she wanted him to know the good news. When Gordon finished, Falmouth exclaimed: "Well, if that isn't a tonic to restore one's faith in humanity! Two hundred thou sand dollars! Why, Miss Andrews, you can work miracles with all that money!" "I could use a million without touch Ing much more than the edge of all this misery," she saId quickly, and then added with a self accusing tone: "God forgive me! What am I saying? This great gift from this old lady wi1 save hundreds-yes, thousands-of live s. We can work miracles with it. We can do wonders, Mr. Gordon.". She was trembling with unusual emo tion. It is nothing to be wondering about, good men and women in the cities. This great soul is beginning to see some gleam of light piercing the heavy blackness of childhood. Hier soul is straining at the thought of the lessening of even some small degree of pain and anguish, as they have smitten her these many, many dreary years. "It's like a story," Gordon said, while his eye gleamed and his figure tingled with the excitement of t'he news. "The first time I saw the old lady I had a dim Idea that she was not real, but a sort of incarnation of some character in a novel that was too good to be sim ple fiction. After reading her letters I am sure my theory is true." "Then maybe the check she mentions as being in the bank is fiction, too," Falmouth suggested. "And the next thing you know the old lady will van ish, and you will have to hunt for her in the pages of some colonial romance to which she has returned." "Heaven forbid !" Gordon answered gravely, as if he actually feared it might be true. Miss Andrews smiled. "I was in the Bank of Commerce this morning and was informed of the deposit there. So whether Mrs. Captain George Effng ham is real or not, her check is certi fied as good for the amount." She aughed at thie look of actual relief in John Gordon's face. "It seems. too good to be true," Gor don said, returning the laugh. "If I were an author, I would put the old lady into a book, if she has not already been immortalized. But you cannot persuade me that she Is just ordinary lesh and blood." Before night every one in Hope House knen~v of the great gift of $200, 000 to the settlement. The little group of residents at the supper table was in a fine state of excitement. Plans were discuss~d for redemption of sur roundings that would have shamed the wildest tales of Aladdin and the slaves of the magic lamp. Miss Andrews, seated at the head of the table, looked ten years younger. One of the young women spoke of it to John Gordon. "Do you notice how handsome Miss Andrews looks tonight? She must have been a remarkably striking wom n ten years ago." "Not more so than now, do you think?" Gordon did not intend that the head of the house should hear, and Isupposed that the noise of general conversation at table had made it im possible for her to catch either the question or the answer. But a faint 1color appeared In Miss Andrews cheeks as she turned to the young wo man and said, with a laugh, "When I was as young as you, my dear MisI Hammond, I assure you I was quite Inoted for my good looks." "We all think you have rernewed youi youth. Miss Andrews," Gordon spoke and Ford led off a pleasant ripple 0f Sapplause by saying "Hear! Hear!" -Thank you all." The head of th( Ihouse seemed genuinely embarrasserc rand looked more interesting than eve] on account of it. "At this rate an 'other $100,000 gift would put me back Sin my teens." Sne spoke lightly, and her blue cyel Sfilled with wonderful light, so beautifu: Sin its expression of joy over the neM topportunity to help suffering humanitl that the whole company was affectec s. byi. ,a fo.th ista time since cOm., 'en Days," Etc. the-power -or nianhooa.- Do you won der. Gordon, that the ministry some times grows discourage d as it faces a labor that in the nature of the case can never be completed in any sense and has the vision of an ideal that nc church or parish ever yet realized? And then of late I am haunted by a doubt as to the value of a great deal that I am doing. It Is not the hard work I am beginning to dread; it is the fear that it is wasted power and that the organized chaurch of today ought to be changing much of its prac tice in order to do what Christ wants done." "Would you mind telling me some. thing in detail what you mean? Give me a page out of your day's work." Gordon asked with genuine interest Falmouth was going through a crisis in his church life, and Gordon was be ginning to have more than a very strong personal feeling for him. "It will be talking shop." Falmout: smiled sadly and hesitated. "That's pardonable between friends," Gordon answered, with a look that showed the minister a little further Into his affectionate nature. "Well-you understand all right," with an air of relief. "Take yesterday as an example. The morning started off with a miscellaneous correspond ence that took about fifty minutes. Then I worked on my Sunday morning sermon for an hour. At the end of that time I had to leave the study to hunt up a boy whose mother wrote me about his being sack at a boarding house on Ross street. I had to go in the morning because of engagements that filled every minute of my afternoons for the next two weeks. I found the young fellow in desperate condition, brought about by his own sin. It was a case that could not be turned over to others. I shall feel obliged to go and see him often, in order to meet the ap peal of that mother. Back to my study in time to write a little on an ad dress for next meeting of oar local as sociation. Home to dinner. Funeral at 2 o'clock. The place happened to be quite near the church, and I was not asked to go out to the cemetery. The people were strangers to me and were in great trouble. Went back to the study to get word to our visiting com mittee to see this family as soon as possible.' By the time that was done I started for the county hospital on Burke street to visit one of my church members, very seriously ill there. At 5 o'clock I was back at the church, where a committee of my Endeavor so ciety had a special meeting to revise their constitution and to plan for tne winter's campaign, and wanted my~ presence and advice. Owing to thec failure of part of the committee to be prompt it was 6:30 before I left the church. "After supper I had a wedding ovei on Park avenue. Mrs. Falmouth was unable to go with me on account of the illness of one of our boys. Wher I left the wedding party, it was 5 o'clock. As I was getting into the car riage to go home a messenger boy brought a message asking me to cal: at the hospital, as my parishioner was in a critical condition and might die before morning. I went at once apd stayed until midnight, when the pa tient's condition grew better, and I left for home. When I reached home, I found my wife sitting up with the boy, who had become quite sick. I sent her to bed and stayed up with the child until he was better. Early this morn ing I was sent for by the family at vhose place the funeral was held, ask. ing me to call this morning, as one of the members of the family was in a se rious condition. I calledl, and when I got to my study it was after 10 o'clock. It is Wednesday, and only a part of my next Sunday morning sermon is completed. I have not even selected a text for the evening sermon. The sub ject of my prayer meeting is 'Best Meth ods of Modern Bible Study.' I have part ly prepared the service. I have three committee meetings toorrlow after noon and an address in the evening on the 'Duty of Good Citizens In the Coic ing Municipal Campaign.' This is be. fore the mass meeting arranged by the committee of fifty. There are five or six families in my parish in great need of my personal visitation, and twc deaths occurred yesterday, whicl: means funeral services tomorrow. My assistant has been on the sick list foi nearly a month, and the church, 01 course, cannot well supply his place although volunteers are doing some o1 his work. I am niot complaining. Gor don. I have some of the best men anc women in the city in my church mem bership. They are loyal and true, anc any man might well be proud of thel friendship. "I am not complaining either abouw the bewildering number of calls on m.3 time and sympathy from strangers ant people entirely outside of my parish. I is a compliment to the ministry tha the un-Christian part of the communith turns to the church and the preachel for comfort and help. All these thing! I accepted when I entered the prof~es sion. I would be a fool to act the babh noy that heavy burdens of trouble ii other people's lives are rolled upon me It Is all a part of the profession whicl I deliberately chose. A doctor migh as well complain that his work bringt him face to face all the time witi physical pain as the minister complail that his work brings him constanti: into the presence of sin sickness an spiritual ruin. Tl~Is is what every trvA ministry means and always will mear and the man who wants to shirk al that had better never enter the busi ness of preacher and pastor. But th, doubt that lately~ has begun to tormen me is the doubt that all this that I au doing in and through the church I worth while doing through that organ Ization. My ideals are constantly disar pointed. With the exception of th minority that can be found in almcs every church I am obliged to confes that my views of the real .work; church ought to do are not accepted b; my people, and I am going on with th pressure on me of all this miscellavr ous machinery of service. tormnente with the question, Is the church. af-c all, the best organization for doi, work for humanity, or is the chure even approximately doing the thing that most need. to be done? It is nc the service thwt I shrink from. I at only IIledl with a great longing t serve in the place where it will amoun to something." ing to Iuopc House Joh Gordon was asking hinsolf whether Miss Andrews had ever had a romance in her life. The question went without an an swer; indeed it was not much more than a vague suggestion prompted by Miss Andrews' appearance during the evening of that eventful day, and the next moment Gordon was busy talk ini over the innumerable plans and projects eagerly discussed at the table for using to best advantage the won derful gift from the old sea captain's widow. "It all comes back to parks and play grounds," was V.iss Andrews' sum ming up when they had all had their say about the disposal of the money. "My heart has ached long enough ai the sight of childhood's misery. Wc can lessen its duration even if we can not remove its cause. I know some of you people have got model tenements on the brain. That's all right and good enough. but it's not the end and aim of our work entirely. Let us give starvc nature a chance at nature itself. The first hundred thousand for breathing spaces. flowers, water, grass, trees; the next for buildings, additions to Hope House--what you will." So the next day Gordon and Ford with 3iss Andrews and Miss Ham mond, who, next to Miss Andrews, hat been the longest at Hope House, sat down to make a definite and positive plan for lth-2 transformation of the burned out district into an oasis for the desert of Bowen street that still swarmed with wretched and desperate humanity. The evening that was- marked by Hope House as a turning in its affairs large enough to be called a crisis Mrs. Constance Penrose was having a shari interview with her nephew, Archie Penrose. "You are your own master of course," Mrs. Penrose was saying to her nephew, who lounged carelessly in one of the bow windows of the drawing room, "but at the rate you are going you will soon exhaust your resources. You are a spendthrift not only of your money. but of your health, which is worth more than money." "Oh. that's all right, Aunt Con stance," Archie answered, yawning. "I know when to stop." "Every gambler has said the same thing." "I'm no gambler, aunt." "You are. 3:ou stake your reputation and the good name of the family every time you put your health and money up against the world, the flesh and the devil. If you have no respect for your own name, you ought to have some for mine." "What have I done to catch all this?' Archie looked annoyed and also a lit tle afraid. There was one person it the world who had the power to stir fear in him, and that person was his Aunt Constance. "You have never done anything What have you ever done, Archie Pen ose, to dignify or ennoble the name you bear. To your father's credit, it he was a money grubber he at leas1 had a business. He actually did some thing besides hunt for pleasure all the time. You-you have no business You waste every energy God gave you in senseless expenditure of 'time anc means. And. in addition to all the rest. you are fool enough to think Luel la. Marsh will be the wife of the mosi useless man in the city." "If I am a fool to think it, am I e fool to wish for it?" Mrs. Penrose stared. "You don't mean to say you actually love Luella?" "I do. I love her with all my soul." "That's not saying much. Your sou: has been reduced to the smallest com mon denominator." "Aunt Constance'" The young mat came out from the bow window and stood in front of her, his hands clinched and his eyes angrily blazing "What right .have you to talk so, tc me? How big is your own soul? Wha1 do you ever do for anybody but your self? When it comes to wasting ener gy, who wastes more than you in wha1 you call senseless ways? I may bE useless and all that, but I don't toad3 to a lot of good for nothings like the Fourneys and the Carlisles and the Cranstons just to get into Washingtor circles next -season." He was treadini on dangerous ground now, for he hac touched his aunt's real weakness as s society woman, and she was in th( mood to be deeply angered at what hE said. But he went on recklessly, ani before he finished Mrs. Penrose hat settled back agaln into the easy, care less attitude habitual with her. "I know what you invited the Four neys here for the other night whet that ass Emory and Gordon got ofi their stuff' about the slums. But al that is of no account to me. ~You havE no business to interfere with my af fairs with Luella. That's my owI business. If I can get her consent, ] am going to marry her." "It is kind of you to get her consent Archie," his aunt said, with quie irony. "You have no right to interfere," hE said sullenly. "-I don't mind saying love her, and I am going to have he for my wife if it is possible." "She will never have you. She loves a far better man than -you ever can be Archie Penrose." "Who? John Gordon? He's a crank Luella has broken with him." "Yes, her eyes looked it the othe] night. Did you see how her eyes foi lowed Gordon all ithe evening?" Penrose was in a torture of jealousy He almost cried: "No, she didn't! I tell you she'; broken with him." "If she has, she will never marr you. Luella Marsh has. too much sens4 to put her life into the hands of a mar who never lifted his tinger to hell make a better wvorld." S "You have set mec the example b2 your own conduct," the young mar sneered feebly. IIe walked back int< the bow window and sullenly turnet his hack on his aunt 'You're right, Archie," she replici calmly. "It's preaetically a case of po and ftettle. One is as black as thE other. The guilt of nearly all unjust an' wretched conditions in this city car without doubt be laid at the door of u: rc-h people, who have the power tha' wealth can use, and use it for our o'm bitions. It is probably true tuxt thi judgment day wvill rightly co~ndemn u~ as the cause of most of the miserI Grace Anrdrews and John Gordon ar4 living to relieveC. We have it-absolute lv in our power to change political an< social conditions that create nearly al the human wrongs that exist in sodi ety. and instead of exercising tha great privilege we go our ways with colossal egotism and monstrous selfish ness, shirking all duties and burden: of citizenship and flinging our mone: into a riotous and demoralizing luxur; of life that inflimes the passions of thi poor and keeps constantly in sight th4 vast inequality of human existence. "It is a fact, Archie, thkat we riel people, with a few noble exceptions si rare as to excite constant newspape: practically all the misery-of the city. We have no place for service in our programme of life. We neither know r-or ca:-e for the brotherhood. We exist for our own pleasure. And I suppose it will be no more than fair that in the otbr world we shall long for a drop of water to cool our tongues while the Lazarus we despised here shall recline in Abraham's bosom. Do you ever think, Archie, of the time coming when things are going to be evened up, when the first shall be last and the last first? of coarse God will never permit all this human injustice to continue for ever, and he will see to it that our e, rthiy selfishness shall some time or other face some kind of a judgment" Archie turned around and laughed. It was a laugh that made his aunt shud der. It was the laugh of society at its worst, the pagan indifference that for all the centuries has faced humanity's woes with dance and jest, and flung to the beggar the crumbs of the feast. "Well, aunt, you're a good one! Miss Andrews couldn't do better. Why don't you offer her your services as lecturer? If you got oE all that stufE in the draw in- rooms, it would create a sensation, and of course it would fill the contribu tion boxe when they were passed for the cause." Mrs. Penrose did not answer. She lay back in her chair, her eyes closed, and to Archie's great surprise when she opened her eyes tears were on the lashes. To his added surprise his aunt arose and went out of the room. She was gone several minutes. When she came back, she spoke as if nothing had been said of an unusual nature. "Miss Marsh and I are going down to Hope House tomorrow afternoon to see Miss Andrews and the place. Will you go with us?" "To Hope Housel" "I said so. Miss Andrews has in vited me to come several times. I con tributed a little at the time of the fire. So did Luella. Miss Andrews wants us to see what has been done. I have never been down there, neither has Luella. Of course you never have. If you care to go, I'U speak for Luella that she will not object to your escort." "Why, I'll go all right. Tomorrow afternoon ?" "Yes. We'll start from here prompt ly at 2." "All right." He started to go and then hesitated. "Promise me, aunt, you will not prej udice Luella against me." "No need. You do all that is neces sary without any help." She had evi dently not forgotten his indictment of her social weakness. "You'll see. Luella Marsh will be my wife one of these days." "She has my sympathy when the day arrives." "Look here, Aunt Constance!" He spoke almost brutally, coming back Into the room. "If you feel that way, why do you ask me to go with her and you tomorrow?" "I want you to see some human mis ery before you die. I -want you to know that God has somie good reason for the judgment. he will some time deliver to your selfish souL" "How about yours?" And again he laughed the laugh that centuries of idle society has not been able to soften or civilize. "And mine, too," she answered, with a deep gravity that made her nephew stare in astonishment. "Well, I'll be here at 2," he said as he turned from her. "I don't care what your reason Is, but I'll go any where Luella goes." When he had gone, Mrs. Constance Penrose did a remarkable thing, or at ; H sipl boed. lestthsewh touh thkne e atl ttle siupbowheada. oe prayer book. It was opened at the Lit any, and with whispering lips she re peated the familiar prayers beginning with the words: From all evil and mischief; from sia; from the crafts and assaults of the devi'; from thy wrath, and everlasting dam~na tion, Good Lord, deliver us. From all blindness of heart; from pride, vain-glory, and hypocrisy; from envy, h'atred, and malice, and all uncharitable ness, Good Lord, deliver u's. From all inordinate and sinful -affec tions: and from all the d'ecelts of the world, the flesh, and the devil,. Good Lord. deliver us. From lightning and . tempest; from plague, pestilence and famine; :'rom bat tle and murgier, and from suddeai death, ood Lord, de~iver us. From all sedition, privy conspiracy, and reellion; from all -false doctrin~e, heresy, ad schism; from hardness of heart and cont'mpt of thy Word and Command men, Goid Lord, deliver us. Bly the mystery of thy holy ec:.na tior:; by thy holy Nativity and C *eum cimon; by thy Baptism, Fnsting, and Temptation., Gond Lord, delive-r us. Bly thine Agony and Dloody Sweat; by thy Cross and Passinn. by thy precious Death and Burial; by thy glorious Resur rection and Ascension; and by the coming of the H oly Ghost, Good Lord, deliver us. In a:l time of our tribuation; i'- all time of our prosperity: -in tl- hour of death. and in the day of judgment, Good Lord, deliver us. Then turning the page she went on with the words: We beseech thee to hear us, good Lord. That It may please thee to succor, help, and comfort all who are In danger, neces sity and tribulation; We beseech thee to hear us, good Lord. That It may please thee to preserve all who travel by land or by water, all wom en in the pcrils of childbirth, all sick per sons and young children; and to show thy pity upon all prisoners and captives; We beseech thee to hear us, good Lord. That itmay please thee to defend and provide for the fatherless children. and wdwadall who are desolate and op pressed; .We beseech thee to hear us, good Lord. That it may please thee to have mercy upon all men; We beseech thee to hear us. good Lord. enelnTes7 perecuitors; an-sanaerersr-a to turn their hearts; We beseech thee to hear us, good Lord. That it may please thee to give and preserve to our use the kindly fruits of the. earth, so that in due time we may enjoy them; We beseech thee to hear us, good Lord. That it may please thee to give us true repentance, to forgive us all our sins, negligences. and ignorances, and to endue us with the grace of thy Holy Spirit to amend our lives according to thy holy Word: We beseech thee to hear us. good Lord. Son of Cod, we beseech thee to hear us. Son of God, we beseech thee to hear us. o Lamb of God. who takest away the sins of the world; Grant us thy Peace. o Lamb of God, who takest away the sins of the world; Have mercy upon us. She whispered the words over In a sort of sobbing chant that found her at the close saying, "Have mercy upon me," instead of "us." And with the word she flung her arms over the desk and laid her head down on the book, crying convulsively. The magnificent surroundings of that gorgeously furnished room gleamed all around her as she kneeled there, for the time being as wretched a soul as that sorrow smitten city housed, sunk in the horrible depth of a self accusation that was already a present day judg ment; warning her of a futtire and smiting her to the earth with terror at the thought of a whole lifetime of power misdirected, of a wealth and social influence abused for selfish ends. When Luella called next day, she found Mrs. Penrose in fine spirits. Archie had already arrived and was nervously walking up and down the drawing room. "There is no question about your love for Luella?" Mrs. Penrose asked as the bell rang and Luella's step was heard in the hall. Archie gave his aunt a look that made her laugh in his face. - "Let us eat and drink, for tomorrow we die," she said carelessly as she turned to greet Luella. Luella was in a state of unusual ex citement The prospect of seeing John Gordon and Hope House entered into the situation. The prospect of seeing Miss Andrews was peihaps a larger factor, for Penrose had in his fashion hinted of a possible interest on John Gordon's part toward this gifted wo man who had given her life to the peo ple. So, for these two reasons, Luella was unusually excited, but in addition was the whole situation, which she realized was not yet by any means de cided in her relation to John Gordon. She was apparently no nearer the sac rifice of her social position than when he had made that the test of her love But none the less certain was It that she resented, as she had a right.to do, the suggestion that John Gordon might give his love to some other woman, possibly to this one whom she had never seen, whom she was going to see now, why she did not know, aside from a certain curiosity that longed to be satisfied. As the carriage entered Bowen street all three of them looked with different degrees of interest at the sight of the double decker. Heaps of rubbish still covered the entire burned area, and the same melancholy groups of childrez were scattered about playing over the ruins. At the farther end of the area some men were taking measurement and talked earnestly. Among th men Luella thought she saw John Gor don. Going in through the archway which had bent over so much human trouble and sacrifice, they were greeted in the broad hall by Miss Andrews herself, who was just passing through to the library and stopped to greet the vis itors as she saw them coming in. "I am very glad to see you," she said simply as she shook hands with them all. "Will you come into the library: Our little front parlor has been turned into a hospital ward since the fire." They all went in and sat down, while Miss Andrews thanked Luella for her gift, saying, "I ought perhaps to have called instead of acknowledging your kindness by letter, but my excuse for not doing so has been the work here." "Oh, I did not expect anything more,' Luella murmured. What- was the se cret of Grace Andrews' power? She felt something more than common in this woman at once. While she -was silently trying to analyze the matter Mrs. Penrose was asking questions. "But you have not been here much longer than twelve years?" "FIfteen years next spring." "Pardon me, Miss Andrews, are yoz related to the Clay-Andrews family of Baltimore?" "Mrs. Hamilton Andrews of Balti more was my father's own cousin." "Then you belong to the Claytons of West Virginla?"* "One branch of the Claytons married into the family." Mrs. Penrose pushed her inquirles one question further. "Wasn't your mother known all through the south as the beautiful Miss Rodney of Baltimore?" "Yes." Miss Andrews answered quiet ly. "If yo-n know my family history, Mrs. Penrose, why do you ask me all this?' The woman of the slums and th( w oman of the boulevard faced eacl other, and it was the society womar who felt abashed in the presence of her sister, who had given up so mucd to gain apparently so little. "Pardon me, Miss Andrews, now thai I have placed you, I cannot help won dering how you came to leave such splendid social position for-for" "For such a splendid social opportu nity?" Miss Andrews smiled her rar4 smile. And then in answer to Mrs Penrose she recited softly George Mac Donald's verses with a power thai went deep home to Luella and mad4 even Archie Penrose stop his nervou: fidgeting, although he did not compre hend the meani;ng of the verses to thi three women. I said, I will walk in the fields. God said Nay, walk in the town. I said. There are no fiowers there. H< said, No flowers but a crown. I said, But the fogs are thick and cloud are veiling the sun. He answered, But hearts are sick and souls in the dark undone. ~said. But .the skies are black; there Is nothing but noise and din. And he "'.pt as he led me back. There i! more, He sa'.. There is sin. I said. I shall miss the light, and friend: w.11 miss me, they say. e an.'wered, Choose ye tonight if I must miss you or they. I pleaded for timo to be given. He said Is it hard to decide? It will not seem hard In heaven to follom the steps of your guide. There was a m'oment of intense still ness when she had finished. There was a hint of tears in Mrs. Penrose' eyes. Luella sat with her hands in he; lap gazing at Mi1ss Andrews intently If John Gordon should love this othe: woman, would it not be the simple at traction of one soul' that has obeyed the voice that says "follow me," at th< cost of phy: !cal things, 'drawing an other soul that is also living in obedi ene to the same voice? Miss Andrews suddenly rose .ani + wen to n of+he windows that look'i ourover tldbiffe ed district "Excuse me. I am, of couM, spe-. cialy interested in our plans at pres ent Mr. Gordon. with some of the residents, has been looking over the ground with reference to our new park. You have' heard of our recent good fortune? We are Uving' in a high state of excitement down here. A friend has given us $200,000, and we are trying to see how much fun we can have in spending it. If you will come here, I can point out our proposed plan, or would you like to go out there? We can look over the house when we come back." "We shaH be interested to go outside and look over the plan there," Mrs. Penrose assented, and they all passed out and walked slowly down toward the group of men who were at the end of the street, opposite the black that had been the last to burn. As they drew nearer one of the men- left the group and came down toward them. It was John Gordon, 'and even at that distance it was very evident that he was unusually roused about something. He was so absorbed in the matter that was exciting him that when he met Miss Andrews with her visitors for the first moment he spoke to her as if he did not recognize the others. "That scoundrel, Tommy Randall, Miss Andrews! Do you know what he has succeeded in doing?" He had said that much when he real ized who the visitors were. But even then the passion of the information he had come to give Miss Anudrews was so strong that he simply bowed to Mrs. Penrose and Luella as if he were in the habit of meeting them every day In Bowen street, and nodded to Penrose, as if Penrose was a familiar sight in the neighborhood of Hope House. - "What has Tommy Randall done now?" Miss Andrews questioned, with a faint smile. "Tommy Randall does the heavy tragedy in Ward 18," she said to Mrs. Pen'rose. "Randall has bought up lots all over this burnt district He has closed con tracts for half a dozen double deckers like the one Mr. Marsh had put up, John Gordon continued, entirely mindful of Luella, or, at least, careless of the effect of what he said upon her.. "He has worked all this time we have been discussing the park plan. But how could we do anything?" Gordon spoke in despair, addressing Miss An drews as if no one else were present "We only had the money to purcha'se anything last night. We never dreamed that anything would get in the way- of our purchase of at least half the area. Randall has secured his lots all over the district If he puts up, those dou ble deckers, he ought to be arrested for murder. That is what the buildings result in." Luella flushed and then defiantly looked at Gordon- as he unconsciously said the last words looking at her. the expression on her face-smote John Gor don into a sudden realization of all his surroundings. Miss Andrews stood quietly gazing over the dreary pile of rubbish. A man left the group at the point where Gordon had been standing and came walking deliberately toward them. "It's Tommy Randall. If he attempts to insult you, Miss Andrews" As he spoke Gordon laid bis finger for a second on fliss-'Andrews' arm. He was standing close by her, and the movement was perfectly natural. - n ella noticed it and was also quick to note the color in Miss Andrews' face as she moved a little atray from Gordon and said: "He will not insult me." "I almost wish he would insult some - one so that I could have somne excuse f or knocking him down," Gordon an s'vered. Neither Miss -Andrews nor Luella had ever seen him so angry. Mrs. Penrose watched all this-with gleaming eyes. It had become exceed ingly interesting to her. Archie was divided between his disgust at the'hor rible surroundings and his wonder at what would be the result of the en counter between Randall and Miss Andrews. ILuella. had no thought for anything except that movement which John Gordon had made as if to protect Miss Andrews. . And all of them faced the man as he came up, entirely igno rant of his purpose in seeking an Inter view, but two of them at least fully aware t:hat, whatever it was, It con cealed some evil, and one of them pray ing in her great, strong heart for some way of deliverance, that her love for the children of her desolate parish might find .expression before Gods sunlight and flowers closed to some of -them on this earth forever. [TO BE CONTINUED.] The Bud of a Tree. Among the curious things discovved by the students of' plant life is the fact that a bud taken from one tree and grafted on another rearries the age of the original tree with it. It has al ways been believed that the bud so transferred began a wholly new life, but this new theory-it may, af.tet all, be more theory than fact as yet--shows the matter in an entirely different light. For ex'ample, if a bud be taken from -a tree that is twenty-five years old with a natural life af fifty years and grafted on another tree it will not live as long as its parent tree is entitled to lve, the full fifty years, but only for the period of life then left to the tree, twentf-five - years. - Concerning Mistletoe. In "Wild Fruits of the Countryside" the author gives some interesting in formation about mistletoe. As a para site it possesses many curious peculiar ities, among others the fact that it Is the only pl'ant whose roots refuse to shoot in the ground. Another point about mistletoe is that it is supposed to grow on' the oak tree. Mistletoe rarely grows on oaks. Most of it Is gathered from appie trees. Cat Out. Girl - Who was that distingoished looking foreigner that was announced just now? I didn't quite catch the ti tle. Other Girl-You won't either. Lil Bul-. lion has made a catch of that.-Chicago Tribune. The Best Ue Could Do. Wigg-Before they were married he said he would be willing to die for-her. Wag-Well, he has partially preved it. At any rate, he doesn't seem able to earn a living for her.-Philadelphia Rcrd. If we are long absent from our friends, we forget them; if we are con stantly with them, we despise them. Hazlitt. After a man is fifty you can fool him by saying he Is smart, but you can't fool him by saying he is pretty or sweet -Atchison Globe. Greatly Reduced. "Well, well, old man! This is quite a change ! Last time I saw you you were among the Four Hundred. And now" Now I am clean back In fractions." Baltimore AmerIcan.