Bellefonte, Pa., Dec. 3, 1897.
THE CHILDREN OF THE POOR.
© O winter wind, indulgent blow,
O sun, be warm and bright,
Thon, kindly stars, keep watch below
Through all the lonely night ;
Let not thy charge too much endure
Of suffering, O fate :
These little children of the poor
Within the city gate !
They are thy helpless ones who feel
The wickedness of man,
Who dwell beneath the iron heel
Of thy industrial plan ;
Be merciful, and move the heart
Of love and charity.
Till tears in eyes long dry shall start
Their wretchedness to see.
Give them each day their daily bread,
A fireside for their play
Round which a soft good-night is said
- At close of darkest day ;
And if, perchance, the home be bare
Of all save want and sin.
Grant, grant the faithless scornful prayer—
That joy may enter in.
O wealth, O fame, are ye not vain
While innocence still lies
Upon a bed of burning pain
With hunger in its eyes ?
Bleed, selfish heart! O pity, lure
Proud wisdom to be kind !
These little children of the poor
Hath not the Christ defined ?
For peace are courts and camps maintained,
For pride asylums rise,
Humanity’s great heart is gained
When human freedom dies.
Alas, not here the poor are found,
Wards of a noble state ;
Rather in rags they wander round
Unconscious, by love's gate.
— C. W. Stevenson, in Chicago Record.
CAPTAIN BENJAMIN,
‘‘The Salvationists have got a new cap-
tain,’’ said Miss Revel, leaning forward to
look through the fine veil of mist-like rain,
at the tall figure under the ‘“‘Blood and
Fire” banner. He had mounted a keg,
necessarily a stout one, at the door of a
corner saloon, for convenience of preaching
and the electric light fell full upon him,
reflecting itself in the rain-splashed face
and the strangely luminous eyes. A
brown-faced little woman at his side, with
a face of dog-like fidelity, held the flag,
aided by a small box and a long flagstaff,
in such a way as to form something of a
shelter for his uncovered head ; but the
preacher seemed as unconscious of her at-
tention as men usually are of unsought de-
votion. :
As Miss Revel drew away her head from
the drops that gathered, fell, and splashed
about the carriage window, the address
came to an end, and a voice not altogether
uncultivated, hegan the hymn :
He's the Lily of the Valley, the bright and morn-
ing star;
He's the fairest of ten thousand to my soul.
Dr. Hurlbut, who sat opposite Miss Revel,
laughed slightly.
“Queer chap!’ he said ; ‘it seems
strange that you’ve not seen him. To be
sure, he’s only been in town about ten days
but his is one of those insistent personali-
ties that seem to pervade the place, don’t
you know. One can hardly believe that
Fairtown ever knew itself without Captain
Benjamin.”
“Who is he?’ asked Miss Revel.
‘Who are any these Salvationists? I
believe he began the world as the son of a
college President, whose heart he broke by
his misconduct ; then he was a tramp for
ten years or so, and—well, I suppose lived
the usual life under the circumstances.
Within the last six months he has ‘got
saved,” and now considers himself privi-
leged to inform decent, law-abiding fellows
like myself of the decidedly warm and
generally unpleasant quarters made ready
for us in the next world if we don’t mend
our ways. Just a little cheeky, wouldn’t
it be, if it wasn’t a part of his religion 27’
Miss Revel nodded assentingly. ‘‘The
most incomprehensible part of the whole
situation,’’ she said, ‘‘is these people’s aw-
ful sincerity. I can’t explain it—"’
‘Oh !”’ said Dr. Hurlburt, as she hesita-
ted, ‘‘nobody can explain anything, except
on what the Theosophists call the psychic
plane.” And helaughed again. “I don’t
doubt the fellow’s sincerity, in the least ;
you can’t, if you look at him. In fact, the
most curious feature about this thing that
they call conversion is that it does in many
cases, to all intents and purposes, restore
the lost innocence, so to speak. I have
made a sort of study of the phenomena in
several instances ; and it really does seem
as though some sort of shifting process
takes place in the centers of conseiousness
if you know what I mean, so that, as an
actual fact, the former life ceases to be at-
tractive. One can understand such a con-
dition well enough as the result of a long
educational process ; the incomprehensible
part is the suddenness of it. Of course
this man says that the old sins have ceased
to tempt him because he has been washed
—but don’t you see how it is ? And, after
all, we see the reverse process frequently
enough in hysteria, and nearly always in
insanity.’
‘So that is the materialistic explana-
tion of an undeniable fact?’ said Miss
Revel ; ‘your reverse process, I suppose,
is what the Bible calls possession by the
devil ?”
She laughed a little as she spoke, be-
cause she did not wish to give the effect of
being shocked ; she was a communicant of
the Episcopal Church, and disliked to pose
as better than other people. Besides, she
was far from certain that the doctor might
not be right ; it sounded plausible enough;
only, she meant to stand up for her own
side as long as she consistently could. But
until she had had time to study out this
rather startling suggestion, it seemed bet-
ter to change the subject. So they dis-
cussed the folk-lore society’s meetings, and
the dwellers in Miss Revel’s reformed tene-
ments, until the carriage stopped under
the deep echoing porte-cochere of Revelrig.
Fairtown people, when they discussed
the life and times of Theodora Revel, were
accustomed to say that she was only wait-
ing for her mother’s death to turn the old
family place into reformed tenements, an
asylum of some sort, or something else
equally dreadful. Only by such a hypoth-
esis could they account for the continued
dwelling of two wealthy women in the old
colonial mansion, around which had grown
up a quarter of the town neither attractive
norsavor.y But, when one is a Revel of
Revelrig, and a college woman into the
bargain, one cannot expect to be under-
stood by the general public. Theodora let
them have their say. Her old home, with
its great high-ceilinged rooms, its wide
porches, its park-like enclosure, was, as
she was well aware, many degrees better
than the best of college settlements ; she
kept the house full, during a large part of
the year, with people who would *‘‘takean in-
terest ;"’ for herself, she was personally ac-
quainted with every child, and with most
of the grown-ups, within a half-mile radius
and was president or secretary of half a
dozen clubs, and nearly twice as many
benevolent societies. But, according to
her own account, it all happened in the
most casual manner. The things were
there to be done, and she, being on the
spot, was evidently the one to take hold ;
besides, it was a single requisite of mental
health to keep as large a portion us possi-
ble of one’s brain inactive exercise ; hut to
pose as one who tried to do good in the
world was an abomination in her eyes.
The result of this attitude of disavowel
was to win for her the reputation of a mar-
tyr who died daily ; she was supposed to
sacrifice her own inclinations, first, to her
mother’s affection for the old homestead,
and, second, to the needs of the neighbor-
hood. This, perhaps, was a retribution
not unmeet for the only affectation of
which she justly stood accused; and
though her life suited her quite thoroughly
and her affection for her birthplace was
not second even to her mother’s, it was
true that her serene unselfishness of dispo-
sition, and the tranquil nerves due to her
perfect health, made an infinite succession
of small daily sacrifices, whether of time or
taste, possible for her, without involving
overstrain on mind or body.
But the Salvationists, who had recently
invaded the region about Revelrig, failed
to accept the popular estimate of Miss Rev-
el’s character. Theodora said that she ad-
mired their adherence to principle and
their independence of worldly considera-
tions. It made no difference in their eyes
that the barracks defended by their banner
were Miss Revel’s property, and were
placed at their disposal rent free ; that the
lady herself was their eager auxiliary in all
plans for the economic welfare of the dis-
trict, more than willing to have them
work in their own way, and ready to put
her hand in her purse whenever called
upon. These things were good in their
place, but they were not salvation.
Captain Johnson who had just been re-
moved from the command of the post, had
dealt faithfully with Theodora. He had
assured her, with her check in his hand at
the time, that the chief reason for coming
to work in her neighborhood was her evil
influences upon the lost souls therein, whom
she was seeking to save by means of carnal
comforts ; and he had spoken earnestly,
and with tears, of her worse than uncer-
tain prospects of everlasting happiness, in-
asmuch as she trusted in her own works,
and had no sense of sin or need of a Sav-
iour.
Theodora had been very sorry to lose
Captain Johnson.
She was so accustomed to receive calls
for aid from the wearers of the red jersey
and big honnet that it was no surprise to
her, on the evening following that on
which she had paused with Dr Hurlbut
under the shimmer of the electric light
through the mist, to be told that ‘‘some of
them Salvationists’”’ were waiting for her
in the porch. Several others, guests at
Revelrig, awaited her there also ; she had
left them for only a moment, to make sure
that her invalid mother, whom she tended
with a care and devotion as absolute as
though life held for her no other interest,
was comfortable for the night.
The rain of the previous evening had
passed away with the darkness; and the
great porch—twenty feet wide, surround-
ing the house on three sides, floored with
stout oaken planks that would last another
century, ad its roof upheld by stone pil-
lars that a tall man could barely clasp—
the porch was full of moonlight as Theo-
dora stepped through the wide doorway.
She was a wisp of a woman, looking, even
under the daylight, younger than her
years ; and with the white moon-rays
weaving’ a fairy texture out of her soft
white muslin gown, and making a halo
around the abundant waves of her brown
hair, a man could hardly be blamed for
finding in her presence something vision-
like and mystical.
‘‘Is there someone here to see me 2” she
said, looking about her with large eyes,
dazzled by the change from the yellow gas-
light. ‘‘Oh!it is you, Lieutenant,’’ as the
little brown woman arose from the shadow
of a pillar ; ‘pardon me for not seeing you
at once—"’
*‘It does not matter about me,’’ said the
brown lieutenant ; ‘here is Caplain Benja-
min.”’
Theodora moved a gracious step forward
and extended her hand towards something
long and black which erected itself out of
the thickest of the shade. It was a silent
figure ; strangely silent for any but a Sal-
vationist, who must never be expected, be-
ing led only by the Spirit, to do things
like other people ; and Theodora thought
that she had never seen eyes so strangely
luminous, or felt a hand-clasp at once so
strong and tender. But it seemed that he
knew not how to let her fingers go ; she
was compelled at last to draw them gently
away. It was the brown lieutenant who
placed a chair for Miss Revel ; Captain
Benjamin did not offer.
There was something intense, even a lit-
tle strained, about the situation ; Or per-
haps Theodora’s nerves, usually suffi-
ciently under discipline, had at last turned
rebellious ; she tried to bring them into
line again hy a markedly matter-of-fact
tone and manner.
“Thank you so much, Lieutenant ; you
are always kind.”’
“We wish to be kind,”’ said the Lien-
tenant, a little tremulously ; “we wish
nothing so much. And Captain Benjamin
has heen greatly blessed of the Lord in his
words ; we hope that he may bring peace
even to yoursoul, if you will listen to him.
It is why we have come to-night. ”’
{Oh 1’ said Theodora. ‘‘Do you not
think it is pleasant here on the porch on so
warm an evening ? A little dark, perhaps;
but we can go inside if we need a light.”
‘It is not too dark,” said Captain Benja-
min, dreamily, ‘‘to see your eyes.”’
Theodora’s first distinct feeling was that
she could have borne it better if Dr Hurl-
but had not been present to criticise ; and
yet, in reality, it was he who saved the
situation. It is true that conventionality
is quite defenseless against earnestness ;
but it must be earnestness of a certain
grade, or perhaps one might be better say
of certain voltage. At a lower degree, zeal
is readily damped by the cool clamminess
of a conventional handling of any given
subject. And though the brown lieuten-
ant was very tremulously in earnest, the
situation yielded all the more readily to
Dr Hurlbut’s treatment, because Captain
Benjamin seemed ‘scarcely awake to its
needs, provided he was allowed to sit and
look his fill on Theodora. The brown lieu-
tenant had tears in her eyes when she took
him away at last, after she had answered
the Doctor's questions as to the spiritual
success and financial standing of the slum
post, and had volunteered a remark or two
which she felt in her heart to be banal,
though she would scarely have used that
word to describe them.
*‘I suppose it’s a new experience for you
to feel yourself a subject of prayer ?’’ said
Dr Hurlbut, as he stood under the gaslight
hat in band, taking leave of his hostess.
Theodora was conscious of a shock. ‘I
suppose 1t is,”” she answered with a fu-
tility that enraged herself.
"*Yes,” said the man, easily. “Curious
how literally these people take things.
As if a woman of your education and stand-
ing was in need of, or a possible subject
for, the psychologic revolution we were
speaking of last night. If such a thing
could happen, they would be the first to
regret it ; it could only be a change for the
worse, you know. But when minds of
that calibre learn to think consecutively,
they will lose their hold on the very class
where they do good.”’
*‘I shouldn’t be at all surprised,’ said
Theodora.
Dr Hurlbut was by nomeans a coxcomb,
and it was a rule of his life to preserve a
dispassionate estimate of his prospects for
the final winning of Miss Revel’s hand and
heart. Todo him justice, he would not
have accepted the one without the other,
even with Revelrig and five figures of the
income thrown into the bargain. But
when he bad left her, he permitted himself
to question whether the inanity of her re-
plies were due to the fact that he had held
her hand a little longer than was necessary
in saying good-by ? As why should he not
with that Salvation fellow making love to
her under his very eyes !
Miss Revel was rather relieved when Dr
Hurlbut had left her ; there were times,
she told herself, when one wanted somthing
a little more human than his calm analy-
ses of men and things: yet, against her
will, she found herself analyzing Captain
Benjamin very much after Dr. Hurlbut’s
fashion, with the result of a profound dis-
satisfaction, not unmixed with self-con-
tempt. For it was impossible to resist the
disagreeable conviction that Captain Benja-
min was very human indeed.
She had not been an heiress for so many
years without feeling within herself the
compensating ability to handle the situa-
tion as she chose, even though it differed
materially from any with which she had
hitherto been confronted ; and her fine
sense of justice combined with a delicate
feeling for humor in causing her to retaliate
upon the Salvationists by an effort to edu-
cate Captain Benjamin intellectually, in
return for his spiritual endeavors on her
behalf.
“For, really, you know, that is the es-
sence of insanity—isn’t it?’’ she said to
Dr Hurlbut. “The restriction of all brain
activity to a small area of brain substance.
Isn’t it sure to produce disease ? Or, at
any rate, an abnormal and one-sided de-
velopment of that section of the brain 2”
The physician smiled, a little quizzically
perhaps, as her way of expressing herself.
“You see,” he: said, ‘‘we know so little
about it, after all ; and if we were to send
all the people who came under your defini-
tion to the county asylum for the insane—
well, Tam afraid it would be, as the Eng-
lish say, a very large order.”
‘How very like you medical people !’
said Theodora ; ‘‘to be helplessly ignorant
when one really wants to know !”’
‘Oh ! as to this fellow,’’ he answered,
‘‘it is simple enough. If his brain had
been in a healthy condition in his youth,
he would have liked the ways of healthy-
minded people, and not have turned prodi-
gal and. got himself side-tracked like this
—if you will pardon the metaphor. And
now, of course, his return to sanity would
certainly be facilitated if you could get
him to take an interest in something be-
side saving souls; the Cretan situation,
for instance, or dress reform. But you’ll
only fret yourself in vain, if you make the
effort ; its the way of all fanatics, from Ca-
liph Omar to the present time : what is in
the Bible or the Koran is unnecessary ;
what ist’t is immoral : to the flames with
it. Tha chief difficulty is, however, that
you haven't the time to accomplish any-
thing worth while. When Captain Benja-
min was saved, it did not touch his physic-
al nature, unfortunately ; he has a very
robust consumption now, and his present
mode of living rather accentuates it than
otherwise. I doubt if he lives six
months.”’
Theodora was conscious of distinctly in-
sane impulses at the manner, rather than
the matter, of this speech ; but Dr. Hurl-
but never knew, as she honored him with
a meditative stare and quietly changed the
conversation, what joy it would have given
her to throw a pillow at him. For they
were sitting on the great porch at twilight,
and the pillow was conveniently at the
back of her wicker chair.
Her calm good sense forbade her to re-
gard Captain Benjamin’s consumption as
in any respect a martyrdom. Her emo-
tional nature, however, took arms on the
other side, and when she remembered that
to leave him now was to leave him for this
world, it was with some difficulty that she
kept herself to her purpose of taking
her mother away from Revelrig for the
winter.
But before this design could be carried
out, she had had time to see a good deal of
Captain Benjamin, and to be a little weary
of the efforts of the brown lieutenant to
convict her, Theodora, of sin. Somehow,
Miss Revel did not feel that it was any
business of the brown lieutenant’s. She
did not admit that it would have been a
different matter had the efforts been Cap-
tain Benjamin’s ; but in the depths of her
consciousness she knew that such was the
case. To do him justice, the man re-
strained his missionary zeal so perfectly
that it scarcely seemed to exist ; and yet,
for some cause—to be traced, perhaps, with
sufficient time and space, to the roots of
woman’s complex nature—Miss Revel
rather laid herself open to it; attending
upon all his sermons and addresses, and
daily coming into closer touch with his
state of mind.
This does not at all imply that she was
converted to his opinions, which repelled
her rather the more by what she considered
their illogicality. But itis a great thing
to any human soul to penetrate behind the
bars of another human consciousness—to
see, if but for the moment, with its eyes
and through the medium of its personality.
One brings out of such an experience either
the best or the worst of the other’s being ;
Miss Revel felt herself distinctly a gainer.
She theorized about it greatly to her own
satisfaction. For she willingly admitted
that the corresponding portion of her brain
to that which in him was abnormally act-
ive had lain rather dormant ; religion, to
her, had never been an enthusiasm ; she
was willing, she said, to learn from any
one, even a dog.
Certainly, Captain Benjamin was not a
dog.
Her plans for departure had been fully
completed, but beyond herself and her
mother had not been made known or dis-
cussed, when, one fine October morning,
Captain Benjamin was said to be awaiting
her in the white sitting-room. This was
Theodora’s favorite apartment ; it had
been decorated in white and gold by some
ancestor who had visited Paris during the
period of the First Empire. and had
brought back a taste for classicism more or
less illegitimate. But, veiled by the mists
of age and association, it was a charming
room ; and the wide stretch of lawn to the
river, with the clear reach of blue sky
above it, had never appeared so attractive
to Theodora, through the low, wide case-
ment, as at this moment, when she saw
Captain Benjamin’s close-cut dark head
silhouetted against the sunshine, like the
saint of an ancient missal on his golden
background.
It was a handsome head, as she had al-
ways been more or less aware; close-
trimmed and of military erectness, with a
straight, regular profile that might have
been carved in some rare stone—she found
herself engaged, all through the somewhat
disconcerting interview that followed, in
the effort to locate the particular kind of
stone out of which Captain Benjamin’s
head might have been carved. It would
be of a clear olive color, so dark as to con-
ceal pallor, she thought, and yet—a cer-
tain kind of onyx, she believed, with a
soft, clear light behind it, would not be a
bad similitude.
He rose as she approached him, but did
not extend his band for hers, or in any re-
spect receive her as Dr Hurlbut would
have done. For this comparison, also,
Theodora found herself drawing, in Cap-
tain Benjamin’s favor.
“I have come,’’ he said, without pre-
liminary, “to plead with you to give your
heart to Christ.”’
During the next few seconds Theodora
was occupied in refusing to analyze her
own emotions ; then the dignity born of
resistance to her first impulse enabled her
to say : :
“I am glad you have mentioned the sub-
ject, Captain Benjamin ; for I have always
felt the presence in your mind of the feel-
ing to which you have now given utter-
ance. Will you not be seated 2’
“I am on my Master’s errand jit Is
more fitting for me to stand,’’ said Cap-
tain Benjamin.
Theodora felt herself at a distinct disad-
vantage. Her favorite chair stood, ready
and inviting, within reach of her hand,
and yet she felt forbidden to occupy it.
Instead, she laid her hand upon the back
of another, tall, straight, and heavy, and
tried to retrieve herself.
‘I do you the justice, Captain Benjamin
to believe most fully in your entire sin-
cerity and your desire to benefit me ; but
I think you do less than justice toa re-
ligious feeling which may be real, although
differently expressed from your own. I
am not exactly an irreligious woman, as
you shonld know by this time ; and—I am
reluctant to wound you—while I believe
thoroughly in your repentance—yet—’’
“You think,”’ he said, swiftly, ‘‘that, in
spite of my repentance, the fact that I have
been a great sinner should prevent me
from pleading in this manner with one
who has led your life. But you do not
understand, that is all. Jesus has washed
away the past ; it is as if it had never been
and it is in his name and his power that I
come to you.”
‘It seems to me,” said Theodora, now
fairly at bay, ‘‘that you employ, you Salva-
tionists, that form of words, about being
washed, and the rest of it, as an excuse for
exalting yourselves at the expense of other
people. Fact is fact, and truth, truth, in
spite of you ; the sins that you have com-
mitted have left their impress, no matter
how you deceive yourselves ; some of you
fall back into them, to prove it. Now,
from those sins, at least, I am saved, and
you are not. There is the truth ; if it
pain you I am sorry, but you have brought
the hearing of it upon yourself.
She spoke breathlessly, with her eyes
turned away from his face, lest the sight of
what she knew must be written there
should hinder her defense. When he
answered, there was no pain in his voice,
only pity. 3
“I deserve all that you can say—more
than you know how to say—as regards my
past. If I let myself think of itas still
alive, the bitterest thought of all would be
that if it had been an innocent past you
might have loved me. You will never love
me now ; but that is one of the conse-
quences, and Christ has it 1n his keeping.
And I donot ask it ; it is enough for me
if you will love Christ. He, at least, has
done nothing to forfeit all that you have it
in you to give.”
Theodora shivered ; was this faith or
blasphemy ?
‘But you make it very hard to bear,”
he continued, ‘when you show me that if
I had remained in the old life, and if Christ
had found me there—as he surely would,
who found meso far below it—I might then
have heen able so to speak to you, to put
things in such a way that you might have
been able to understand. But I must de-
liver my message in such words as the
Lord gives me to say. And I think you
are missing the point—begging the quest-
ion, I think they used to call it. It is not
what any of us do, it is what Christ is, that
is salvation. I am safe from the old sins :
why? Because I have stopped fighting
against them. When the craving for
drink comes, or some other temptation, I
do not waste time in resisting it, no, I
carry it straight to Christ, and he conquers
it for me ; for who am I to set my strength
against the power of the devil? He has
conquered me too often.
“You—if sin ever touches you—fight it
in your own strength ; there is your mis-
take. For some day there will come—Sa-
tan is very skillful —a sudden strong temp-
tation, such as you have never known be-
fore. Perhaps you think you can ask
Christ to help you ; but how if the tempta-
tion is not only too strong for your strength
but too sudden for those slow prayers of
yours? You will yield to that temptation;
what else can you do? Why not, before it
comes, give yourself up wholly to Christ,
so that he shall always do all, and you
nothing ?*’
Theodora’s head had fallen on her hands
which were folded, one upon the other, on
the back of the great carved chair. There
was silence in the room ; for Captain Ben-
jamin, by the reality that was in him, had
been delivered for the moment from his ac-
customed formule. Perhaps he prayed si-
lently as he stood beside her ; but if so, he
gave no outward sign.
When Theodora raised her eyes, there
was in them a truth as clear as in his own;
and she spoke with a simplicity and direct-
ness which modern life had made impossi-
ble to her since her childhood.
‘Captain Benjamin,’ she said, ‘‘you are
willing that Christ shall do all for you,
and be all to you. But for me, you can-
not trust him. Do you not see that .you
are trying to do part of his work yourself ?’’
Then, with no farewell, she turned and
left him ; but from an upper window she
watched how he went away down the wind-
ing road to the great gates, with his tall
figure shrunk together, and his head howed
upon his breast. Eut Theodora did not
feel that she had won a victory.
It was a day of early November when
Miss Revel and her mother went away to
the South from Revelrig ; the little rail-
road station was upon Miss Revel’s own
land, and Dr. Hurlbut said, as he stood be-
fore it, at the window of the carriage, that
the weather had made a laudable attempt
to be typical, in order to be worthy of Miss
Revel’s scientific intellect.
Theodora did not attend to him very
closely ; her eye had been caught by two
figures who stood under the drippings of
the scroll-work on the front of the station 3
the brown lieutenant nearest to the weather.
As she had seen it first, so now she beheld
it for the last time—the dark, thin face,
above the lieutenant’s red-crossed bonnet,
gleaming with unheeded raindrops ; but
now the wistful, patient, dog-like fidelity,
and sorrow were written on the face not
only of the woman. Something smote
Theodora suddenly on the heart.
‘‘Let me out,” she called to the coach-
man, who stood near, his hands in the
pockets of his shiny rubber garment.
‘Let me out ; there is something I have
forgotten.’ ;
‘Your common sense ?”’ hovered as a
suggestion on Dr. Hurlbut’s lips ; but he
know her too well to let it escape from
them.
“My dear Theodora, you will take your
death,” said Mrs. Revel, feebly ; but
Theodora, in her long blue traveling cloak,
had already laid her hand upon the arm of
the brown lieutenant, and noted the flame
of joy that leaped at her approach into the
eyes of Captain Benjamin.
‘Come,’ she said, imperatively, “I
must speak to you ;’’ and when they were
within theshelter of the waiting-room, she
pressed into the hard brown palm some-
thing soft and silky to the touch.
‘He is not well,” said Theodora, hur-
riedly ; “I want him to have every com-
fort, every luxury. Write to me about
him ; let me know what he needs ; he
shall have it, as if he were my own
brother.”
The brown lieutenant looked at the
trust confided to her, and added up ment-
ally the amount of the notes, with business
like exactness, before she replied.
‘“Yes,”” she said, afterwards, ‘‘you may
do this for him ; it is very hard to know
any one whom you love is suffering for
food, because what he has is too course to
tempt his appetite ; I will let you do this
for him Miss Revel. God gives me the
nursing of him, and that is best of all.
Yes, I will let you; it will not be very
long.”
She laid a hand, in her turn, on the blue
traveling cloak.
‘You are grieving the Spirit,”’ she said ;
“and that is killing him. If you would
yield, and tell him so, that would be bet-
ter than jellies aud broths and chicken.’
“Your bill of fare seems already made
out,” said Theodora, smiling. But the
water stood in her eyes; for the brown
lieutenant’s words contained a revelation
that touched her.
The whistle of the approaching engine
left little time for speech or action ; she
pressed the brown palm, and hurried from
the room. Captain Benjamin stood where
she had left him ; but the train had now
drawn up beside the platform, and Dr.
Hurlbut had come to hasten her move-
ments. It may be that he accentuated
them in a sense very far from his desire 3
for Theodora was unaccustomed to opposi-
tion ; moreover the time was short, and
what she had to say must be compressed
into the smallest possible compass. And,
at that thought, the word presented itself :
for, though it were a Salvation Army tech-
nicality, Theodora was not a woman to be
deterred by trifles. Moreover, it would
express her meaning all the better.
*‘Good-hy, Captain Benjamin,’ she said;
and as he clasped her land, she added,
with a smile, *‘ALLELUIA |”?
The swift illumination of "his counten-
ance showed that he fully understood ;
and as she looked from the window of the
Pullman car upon the rain-swept platform,
she heard, above the noise of the moving
train, the tinkle of the lieutenant’s tam-
bourine, and the voice of Captain Benja-
min, singing :
He’s the Lily of the Valley, the bright and morn-
ing star;
He's the fairest of ten thousand to my soul.
Time passed, and summer returned 3
and Dr. Hurlbut drew his horse aside, one
morning, from the great gates of Revelrig,
which he had been about to enter.
*‘It is fitting that a mere mortal should
give place to the chariot of Aurora,’ he
said, as Miss Revel in her dog-cart passed
through. The cart was piled, front and
back, with flowers. “‘Or is it Schiller's
‘Madchen, schon und wunderbar’?”
“I am only going out to the cemetery,’
replied Miss Revel, with a grave sincerity,
which she seemed to have brought home
from her travels, and which the doctor
found more disconcerting than her former
jesting parries, o
“How wonderfully well you have looked
ever since your return!’ he said, with
more meaning than met the ear ; ‘your
winter improved you greatly.”
‘I trust so; there was need of it,”’ she
replied. ‘Shall I find you at Revelrig
when I return? No? Then good-morn-
ing ; for this is something I had rather do
alone.”
Dr. Hurlbut sat motionless, following
her with his eyes.
“To the cemetery !’’ he said,
‘where that fellow lies, near to her own
father. Such folly! But at least she did
not marry him, and—well, I suppose, in
comparison with such an evil as that, a few
cart-loads of flowers are a small considera-
tion.”’
Wherewith he drove on to the house to
visit the brown lieutenant, who was there
being tenderly nursed through a cough
which she had developed while caring for
the last days of Captain Benjamin. Dr.
Hurlbut was of the opinion that the brown
lieutenant had had rather hard measure in
this world ; but there were still a few
things which, for all his penetration, Dr.
Hurlbut did not understand.—By Katha-
rine Pearson Woods in The Outlook.
presently,
The First Under the New Law.
The first meeting of the state dental ex-
aming board, organized under the act of
July 9th, 1897, will be held in Philadel-
phia December 7-10, at which time appli-
cants for state license will be examined.
Under the new law all persons desiring to
enter upon the practice of dentistry in
Pennsylvania must pass the state board ex-
amination and receive a license from the
dental council. The council is composed
of three members—president, Nathan C.
Schaeffer, superintendent of public instruc-
tion ; George G. Groff, M. D., president of
the state board of health and vital statistics,
and Wilbur F. Litch, D. D. S., president
of the Pennsylvania dental society. Gen-
eral James W. Latta, secretary of internal
affairs is secretary of the council, and to
him all applications for license should he
addressed.
Brought to Time.
“What I like,’”’ she said, “isa person
who is frank—one who says just what he
means, without beating around the bush.”
‘Well, then,”” he replied, ‘‘I’ll be
straight-forward. There is something I’ve
wanted to tell you for an hour or more,
but——"’
“Yes,” she urged, seeing that he hesitat-
ed, ‘what is it?”
‘“There’s a big black streak down one
side of your nose. I guess it’s soot.”
FOR AND ABOUT WOMEN.
The uses of lemons are manifold, and the
more we imploy them the better we shall
tind ourselves. For all people in sickness
or in health, lemonade is not only a safe
but a remarkable drink. It is a specific
against worms and skin complaints. The
pippins crushed may also be mixed with
water and used as a drink. Lemon-juice
is the best anti-scorbutic remedy known ;
it not only cures the disease, but, what is
better than a cure, it is a preventative.
Sailors make a daily use of it for that pur-
pose. Itisagood thing to rub the gums
daily with lemon juice to keep them in a
healty condition. It prevents chilblains.
Lemon used in intermittent fevers is
mixed with strong, hot black tea or coffee
without sugar. Neuralgia may be cured
by rubbing the part affected with a lemon.
It is valuable also to ‘ure warts and to de-
stroy dandruff on the .ead by rubbing the
hair with it.
The good carriage of a young woman has
much to do with the impression she creates
in public, and in some noble English fami-
lies — before physical-culture professors
were known—a drill master used to sup-
plement the governess’ instruction how to
hold back the shoulders and how to keep
the chin in. Gone are the days of ‘back-
board”’ in young ladies’ academies ; but
the girl recognize the advantage of a “good
sitting” up, which they never seem to lose
in after years. Now we hear that the
women of Atlanta have organized in a reg-
ular military company in uniform and ac-
couetrements. The fair Georgians have
been duly instructed hy a West Point drill
master, who has considered them sufficient-
ly well-trained to permit them to appear
in an exhibition drill,
Fewer round shoulders and stooping
heads would be seen if girls would learn to
acquire a proper sitting up. It used to be
said that American girls walked with their
head poked forward and with the chin out;
but the carriage of our girls has greatly
improved ; as the present generation of
school girls can bear witness.
The round waist holds its place in fash-
ion’s ranks and is still very much favored,
both on day and evening gowns for slender
women and young ladies. The inspired
ideas of French designers are particularly
manifest among these graceful and remark-
ably chic models, with their pretty belt
ribbons or soft Directoire sashes wound
twice around the waist. There also appear
many pretty waists with circular basque
effects with short crennellated or vandyked
skirts with postillion backs, or Russian
blouse backs and open jacket front. Eng-
lish cutaways with fitted waistcoats, elon-
gated Etons with Fedora vests, are also to
be seen, and so on ad libitum. There
seems to be an inevitable rule, in obedience
to which short dumpy woman passes by
the trim jacket with flat band trimmings,
gradually narrowing as they near the
waist line, that give her length and a look
of slenderness, and seizes the befrilled cape
that has a bisonlike effect when donned.
Or she selects a short, round jacket, with
trimming set on horizontally, adds a wide
belt to her waist, while her little pancake
bonnet has full trimming set at each side
of her round head.
That the wide folded girdle, the gather-
ed bretelle the straight box pleat frilled at
the edge, the blouse and the yoke waist,
with much fnllness below, very perceptibly
shorten the figure of the tall woman, and
the V-shaped vesttures and perpendicular
effects of every sort elongate the short one,
should always be kept in mind no matter
what the various chances and changes of
fashion may be, or however becoming cer-
tain styles may prove to those women who
are so finely proportioned that almost any
and every fashion introduced may be fol-
lowed by them.
The bow of great size so long worn at the
back of the neck is now replaced by dainty
lace pleatings ‘‘twice-around’’ Directorie
scarfs, high silk or velvet collars or the Na-
poleon stock much affected by women with
long necks. The scarf is put on in folds
like the oid-time black satin stock, carried
to the back of the neck, then brought
around, after first being caught there with a
jeweled pin, and tied in a soft fluffy bow
under the chin. These ties may be formed
of silk muslin, India muslin, j India mull
or silk in gay colors, or plaids in rich
Roman stripes. Other pretty fancies in
neckwear are little Paquin points of linen
lawn, embroidered in the center and edged
with lace, and odd blacks of hemstitched
lawn with cuffs to match. These are to be
worn with dressy tailor made gowns or by
those who find the hard blue-white linen
colors so unbecoming.
Ascots of heavy cheviot, either white,
blue or pink, that pass around the neck,
like a stock, and then tie in a puff in front,
fastened with a scarfpin, are worn by a
large majority of the strollers with their
tailor made jackets.
Have you noted the number off full
crowns” in this season’s velvet hats?
They are considered quite the thing. The
‘nose hat’ as well as the turban and flat,
to be worn far back on tresses combed a la
pompadour, are still seen in a great variety
of charming designs. Velvet is used this
year to the exclusion of many other mater-
ials which have heretofore appeared in the
decoration of fashionable millinery. Black
ostrich tips are used so generally that al-
ready fashionable people are discarding
them and taking up the flowers which im-
porters are bringing over from Paris in
great quantities. Violets seem first in favor
than velvet roses.
The latest caprice of the modiste is to
turn out a walking suit with skirt and
sleeves to match, of one kind of cloth.
The sleeveless waist is compounded of gros-
grain silk, velvet, lace, yards upon yards of
of silk braiding, a little really good lace and
soft mousseline for the collaret and jabot
arrangement at the throat. But the point
of the whole costume fails of effect if the
sleeves match the blouse. All falls flat un-
less the skirt and sleeves be of uniform
color and material, and distinguished as
such from the rest of the blouse.
A standard medical authority says that
the first thing to do for the child who has
croup is to put his feet into as hot water as
he can bear, and be sure that the room is
very warm. If possible put him into a hot
bath, and then quickly drying him, put
him in bed between blankets. Fven be-
fore putting him in bed give him syr-
up of ipecac in teaspoonful doses until he
vomits. For external applications take
two tablespoonful of turpentine mixed with
goose oil, sweet oil, or lard oil, and
rub thoroughly on the outside of the throat.
Saturate a flannel and lay it over the chest
and throat. Hot bricks, or hottles filled
with hot water should be placed at the
child’s feet and at the sides of his body to
induce perspiration. Keep him carefully
covered.