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QOI DIX T>XT:—" Ltkawlw I jr nntojoii, Thara l
Joy In the pri-rnci- of ths of Owl or opo slo-
thai rrpantolli."
Central Truth .—God pities and values
lost sinners.
It was but a few weeks before the last
Passover, and Jesus was on his last jour
ney from Penea to Jerusalem. As he
passed from village to village increasing
multitudes thronged about him. among
whom were not a few of the despised
and degraded. Is is said that "all the
publicans and sinners drew near unto
him." There was good reason for this.
Until now the only pretended right
eousness which they had seen was proud,
distant and contemptuous. But here
was a teacher who not ouly enjoined a
righteousness exceeding that of the
Scribes and Pharisees, out withal was
the sinner's friend. He received them
kindly, conversed with them, visited
their homes, and sat at their tables.
No wonder they heard him gladly.
At all this the self-righteous Phari
sees were greatly scandalized. They
*had no conception of a righteousness
which could at once abhor sin and pity
the sinner. It was in reproof of their
murmurings and in explanation of his
conduct that our Saviour spoke the
three wonderful parables of this chap
ter.
These parables are alike in that they
are intended to represent the mercy of
God to sinners; the first twoGod's mer
•cy in seeking, and the third, that same
•mercy in receiving them. It may be
that each was intended to depict a dis
tinct class, —the first, the stupid ; the
second, the ignorant; the third, the
wilful. But, more likely, each was
meant to represent a different side of
the same person ; for all sin is at once
stupid, blind and wilful.
In the two parables for this day's les
son, we see, tirst, why God is so earnest
for the sinner's recovery. It is because
die both pities and values him.
The divine pity is depicted in the
story of a shepherd seeking a lost
sheep. The Saviour is the Shepherd :
"I am the good Shepherd ;" "all we, like
sheep, have gone astray." Great is the
wanderer's misery and peril and hope
lessness. What a picture of all this is a
sheep separated from the flock, wildly
running hither and thither, the ready
prey of wild beasts, liable to fall into
some pit, with no wisdom or strength
to find bis way back to the fold ! As
the shepherd pities the sheep, so God
pities the unhappy, imperiled, helpless
ainner.
The wonderful truth that God also
values the sinner is set forth in the oth
er parable. In our Saviour's day the
highest coin in common use was of nil- 1
ver ; -sKver thus represents high value,
fthc'aighest likely to be in one's posses
ij-jn. A lost soul is like a lost piece of j
silver; now useless, and yet in itself of !
great works. So God looks upon the
sinner ; he bears the divine image, how- j
ever defaced, and has powers for great 1
and high service. For this reason, as
well as in pity for his misery, God de
sires bis salvation.
Then, next, in both parables, we are j
helped to see how God seeks the recov- j
ery of the lost. Ho goes after them
with pains and patience and the wisest
adapt*tion of means. Leaving the nine
ty and nine in theirsafe pasture ground,
the shepherd pursues the wandering
abeep. Nor, mindless of the roughness
and difficulties of the way, does he give
over until, if it be possible, tfie lost is I
found; then, tenderly laying it upon :
his shoulder, he joyfully bears it home.
So, with lighted candle and great over
turnings, does the woman diligently '
search for the missing coin. Such, we
are told, is God's way. With patience
and wisdom he seeks the lost, that he
may save them from their misery and
have them as his own. This he did by
the coming and work and death nf his .
Son, and still does by hi* Word and
Spirit and the ministries nf hi* people.
And all this, we are told, he does for
one; for one sinner; for him who has
wandered farthest, or is most deep in
his corruption.
Just who are represented by the nine- j
ty and nine who are left is a vexed
question, which we need not be greatly
anxious to answer. The reference may
be to the sinless angels, or to truly -
righteous men already brought back, or
to those who ignorantly count them- ,
selves righteous. The great purpose of
the parables is to show us the heart of
God; and, particularly, that it is the
recovery of those who feel themselves
•inner* which engages his thought and
makes hi* heart glad.
A careless reading of these parables
might lead to the inference lb it man
haa nothing to do to secure his own
salvation ; that he has only to wander
and to wait; that God does all. But
such an inference ia distinctly preclud
ed. Repentance is the soul's own act;
and our Saviour plainly *aya that it is
over the sinner that repenteth that
heaven exults. He must himself con
sent to God's grace. Then it is that
God calls angel* and glorified men to
unite with him in rejoicing* which fill
the heavens.
rBACTICAL SroCISTIONS.
1. None are so far gone in sin that we
should not seek their salvation; the
i m seemingly abandoned may be more
* hopeful than the proudly self righteous.
2. The way to men's heart* is by an
exhibition of friendliness, not by treat
ing sin aa a trifle, but by showing that
we do not despise the sinner,
3. The opposition and derision of the
Eeal and honored of this world did not
ut-i. otir Saviour'* ardor for souls; it
should not hinder our*.
4. How wonderful is the divine con
descension and compassion. To save
sinner*, not excepting the most degrad
Ed, the Saviour came to earth, look our
nature, lived in the flesh, and died on
the cross; and it la to this *ane end
that ho is now abroad by his Spirit, hi*
ministers and his Word. In sll ibis he
is an example to his disoiples. By it
all he appeals to the unsaved to be in
earnest for themselves.
5. The true work of the preacher,
teuche* and discitile in any station is
not to consume life in speculation con
cerning things not tevealed, hut to
speed on the grent and good work of
human salvation.
f. God looks upon men as lost; and
for tbia reason it ia that he is so earnest
to save them. It is only as we see them
in that same condition and are alarmed
for them that we shall he sufficiently in
earnest.
7. The divine method is to seek and
rescue individuals ; to save men one by
one. There is no better way.
8. It doea not follow that, because
the Saviour is so persistent, therefore
none will be lost; for after all is done
which God can do, it still remains that
the sinner must himself repent.
9. How great is the value of a soul for
which heaven is so moved ; how im;>or
tant is his rescue, over which all the
wise and good and blest rejoice !
♦
MOWING AMI HEAPING.
Howard Simpson and Loraine liliss,
two young men of great intimacy and
dissipated habits, were on their way to
a gambling saloon, where the night
previous they had won considerable,!
and on passing a church, the doors of]
which were opened, paused a moment
by the steps, peering in out ol' idle
curiosity, just as the minister was giv- I
ing out the text: "As ye sow, so shall ]
ye reap." I
"We are not farmers, so we do not
sow anything to reap," said Howard,
the elder aud most profligate of tin
two; but Loraiuc looked thoughtful,
ami kept silent as they walked along
toward the place of their night's de
bauch. And often during the jubilant
gnycty of the reveler* that parage.
"As ye sow, so shall ye reap," (lashed
into his mind.
"It is as mv good mother tell* mc,"
thought he ; "we niut suffer for evil
deeds done in the body, and my deeds
arc constantly evil. Hut from tlt is
night I will do differently. I will not
be caught in this place again."
"What ails you, Bliss? You are as
dull a a November hoe," .-aid (lay
bright, one of the ringleaders of the
company."
"(iuess he's thinking about reaping
what he sows," answered Simpson, and
then about a dozen rude men hurst
into n loud fit of laughter.
"What do you mean by that re- 1
mark ?" one of them presently asked.
He then told them of the text given
out by the minister as they were pac
ing the church.
"The minister go to —and he surely
will," said Hoardon, one of the most
blasphemous of the whole gang.
This profane remark, with others no
better, grated harshly on the mind of
I/>raiiie, for he was really feeling
more serious than he ever had felt l*>
fore ; hut he made no reply, knowing
if he did it would only serve to call
forth still harsher language. He left
as early as he could, which wa* not
till 1 o'clock, and after he got home
crept to his chamber and noiselessly
as possible, lest he might awaken his
father, who at times was very harsh to
hitn. Then, for the first time in his life,
he offered a sincere prayer to <*!. Ie
--seeching him to give him strength to
turn from the evil way into which lie
had been led.
M runtime, his father having heard
him enter the house, was denouncing
him in the severest terms.
"Do not be harsh with him," plead
ed the mother. '"I hope he will soon
learn to do better; he is young an<k
wild, though not vicious, I trust."
But the old gentleman could see
naught but wrong in hi* bnv.
"lie shall leave the house ! I will
disinherit him if he doea not stay at
home night*; he is a disgrace to the
family. Think of the money I have
paid out for him —sent him to college,
given bill! the privilege of studying
law with nic in my office. But no, he
chutes to spend his time carousing with |
n set of loafers."
"Perhaps if we are gentle with
him —" tremblingly whispered his
mother.
But the old gentleman did not heed '
this advice, for the next morning his
first salutation to Isiraine was :
"Where did you stay so late lat
night, you voting scapegrace ? Unless
you mend yonr ways vou'll leave these j
premises for good ami nil."
Lorniue, who had been penitent ,
through the night, resolving to do'
better in future, now felt his temper
rising and his resolution melting away, j
and ne sat down to the table in a stil- ]
len inood. But he shortly after made
up his mind to go to meeting that
evening and return home at 9 or 10
o'clock. Therefore at half-past 7 he
started for church, and on meeting
three or four of his old associate*, told
them of his plan.
"Well, come with us first, just for n
few minutes to the club rooms," said
they.
"No, no, not to-night," he replied.
"I have to go home early ami I cannot
possibly go with you."
But they dragged him along and it
was impossible to get away from them;
and once there, there waa no such
thing as leaving, for in the excitement
of the place he waa induced to drink,
and as the liquor was drugged he felt
no inclination to move from the charm
ed spot.
Ho the hours moved on until late
into the night before he went home.
When he reached that place it was
!i o'clock. His mother was at the
door ; she had not slept a moment, she
said, from watching j'or him, aud his
father had awakened three or four
times, angrily iuquiring for him. But
he was now asleep, and she wanted
Ixiraiue to creep noiselessly to bed, so
he might not awaken him. Hut alas !
he did awuke, and the scene that en
sued was awful.
Meeting the stupefied hoy on the
stair landing, he ordered him to have
the house at once ; he could stay ouly
at the tx-ril of his life. The poor
mother begged that he might he allow
ed to remain until morning ; hut no,
into the strict he was driven, with the
threat that if" be ever entered the
house again he should he cx|x-lled
with still greater harshness. Lorainc
crept silently to the most convenient
shelter, which was the carriage house,
ami there slept on the carriage cush
ions till morning. There his mother
found him, as she arose before her hus
band.
"My dear boy" she said, winding
her urms about his neck, "it will not
answer for your father to find you
here, so I will bring you out some
i breakfast, and some money with which
j to get out of this town, where you
; have had so many vile associates ; and
I hone you will find something to do
and become good and steady. After
a few days write tne where you
are, and I will send you a trunk of
clothes and another of books. In fu
ture shun all evil company, and when
you next meet your father let him see
one who ha* entirely reformed, and
who will bring him uo futher dis
honor."
"I will, dear mother, do just as you
-ay. 1 did not moan to gyt into dis
grace last night. I started for church
and should have licon at home nt mi
early hour, only that I wa- fairiv
dragged in another direction by my
companion*, i think if futher had
taken a different course with me I
would not he where 1 am now. You
know now stern and crabbed he has
boon, end never since I left college
have I felt that I could enter his office j
and study under hi* tuition. Had lie
been kind and gentle like you, dear
mother," said I/iruine, kissing her j
tearful check, "he might have in
duced me to do just what he wished ; \
but after tins I will endeavor to do
right. That text. "As ye sow, so shall
ye reap.' i- continually in mv mind,
and I am going to l>cgiu anew and try
to do right."
Four years passed, and his name had
never been mentioned in his father's
household to his hearing. Audjasti
four years from the day he left hone j
a Mr. Rli—, from no one knew whither,
had an appointment t<> preach at the
Congregational church, which Ix>-
raine's parents usually attended. < >i
thi- ocen-i the old gentleman -aid
to his w ite -
" We im*t go, I suppose, to hear
thi# Rli-#; perhaj he may he some
relation of our*; no telling, although
i have never known a relative of mine
to be a minister."
"Yes, we will go," Mrs. I'lis# re
plied. "and if we learn that he i- a
relative, it wmld fx- very proper to
ask him t<> come home with us and
•trend the night." ,
"1 do not know that I would have
anv objections to that," her husband
answered.
Somehow he appeared to Is- in a
more melting nessi than common:
prohahlv he was reminded that it wa
the anniversary <f* the fourth year
since his son left them ; at all events,
this evening, on his way to church, he
sixike I/iraine's name for the first
time in hi# wile's bearing.
"It i# four years to-day," he said, '
"since I/iraine went away, in't it?"
" Yes," he said, mournfully.
"Wonder where he is now ? Some- !
times, wife, I think I was a little hits
ty with him."
"Then you would be glad to see
him, perhaps."
"If I could be sure he had reform
ed."
Ry this time they had renehed the
church, finding they were a little late,
a# the minister wa# giving out the
text: "As ye sow, so shall ye reap."
Ouietly they entered the door, and
there for a moment Mr. Bliss speech
less stood, and then tremblingly mov
ed along to his scat, where his wife
was sitting with her head leaning on
the scat ahead of her. Could it be
possible, he a#ked himself, that the
long bst one stood before him—that
he really beheld him again—not as
before but still the. same? Yes, it
was most assuredly his son, whom he
drove as a vagabond from his door,
clothed in the garb of holiness, a
commissioner from God. And he,
listening to him, stood like a guilty
wretch, transfixed to the sjmt. His
injustice toward the one now so supe
rior to him rose before him and be
| fell condemued.
It was oiwerved bv the audience
that the preacher was becoming deep
ly affected a# he looked in the direc
tion of the old remembered pew, aud
each moment waxed more and more
eloquent as he enlarged upon the sub
ject of his text: "As ye sow, so shall
ye reap."
" Yes," thought the old gentleman,
"as I sowed, so I have reaped. For
the post four years 1 have lived in
; constant regret of my unjust treat
ment, my harsh language to thee, my
! son. Had I been kind and forbear
' ing with him from the first he would
( not have been led away to the haunts
lof dissipation, which cane so near
proving hi* ruin. Hut by his mother**
gentle conduct aud the grace of God
his feet have beeu urrested in the slip
pcry downward course ho once pur
sued."
Afler the service wiw ended Mr.
and Mr*. Bliss remained in their pew
until a part of the congregation had
left the aisles, and then moved for
ward to the pulpit to meet their son
and pour their tear* upon Ilia neck.
Then all wa* forgotten, and he wonj
to their home, never to be turned from
their door aguiu.
"■ IV 1 t
TIIK POLITICAL ICE DIHSOI.VIMi.
from Foifiry'• I'rngrex
With the end of winter the founda*
lions of the party that won the Provi
dential election last November by HO
narrow a margin, are breaking up into
fragment*. < )ne of two thing* is clear
from thin almost universal dissolution.
Hither the majorities cant against Han
cock were false, or the confidence in
Garfield i# gone. Certainly the firet
reason is conclusive, if we "recall the
terrorized vote in many of the busi
ness centres la#t vear, and tlie present
deep and loud discontent in these lo
calities. In Philadelphia, which was
the first stone of the column to full on
the first honest succeeding trial, after
the declared election of Garfield, it i*
clear from the recent experiment that
nearly enough counterfeit votes were
counted for Garfield to make his ma
jority in the w hole State, Republican
examination boldly pursued has proved
that by the aid of bought election of
ficers and forged returns, the voting in
the Presidential contest was a flagrant
farce, and when we include the organ
ized patronage in the counties, the sur
mise ripens into fact. The Indiana
October election was a proclaimed
auction in advance. That State was
purchased in open market. The same
revelation is true of New York and of
other <|unrters. The nr<of was not
only in the meagre Republic an strength
in < ongrewi, illu-trnted by the present
degradation of the- United Slates Sen
ate. but in unprecedented Republican
defeats in most of the great Republi
can cities since the Presidential elec
tion. The tirst sign since the Repult
lieans of the Senate have attempted
to make a party iu that body by an
ojM-n bargain with a Kepudiator, is the
failure of the disruption of the so
called wdid South. The Mahone coa
lition has made the South granite
against tlwt organized ingratitude. It
has even disgusted the colored vote,
and hn placed the Northern men of
honor w he# preferred Mr. Garfield, in
that worst of all attitudes, helpless
ajmlogv. party can live that i*
ashamed or afraid to defend itself.
This element, added to the proved
dishonesty <• 9 the Republican ring- in
newt of the great cities, ha- dissolved
whatever coherence there was Inst
November. That coherence in the
Republican n fumn was always hollow.
It was a fore ad confidence, it was a
combination <f fear. The employers
feared the cm| lojfisl, and the employed
marched fortlv in manacles and frown
inglv voted with their despotic masters.
And now that these very employers do
oot hesitate t' show their horsor of
such arrogance as that of Conkling,
ami such sham* lc*s corruption ce th'-
bargain with the bullying Rcpmliator,
Mahone, is it -orpiising that thv men
they forced to vote ogaiust Hancock
should seek the first occasion to return
to the Democratic |>nrty? There is
another ingredient in this dissolution
of the Repuhlis-au party. There an- ,
not places for ic out of a hundred of :
the iningry expcctnuta. Reform has
seized the cities, it will control the
departments. U will force economy
upon the bureaus. The first to suffer
will bo the eol red men. ami they will
be kept more resolutely out in the
cold, now that the whites, who are in,
will lalnir with might and main to
stay. An arnvv of mercenaries will
soon tire of fighting without plunder,
and when the gas rings arc broken,
and the water-rats are made to work,
and the street idlers arc made to do
honest chores, the romance of party
loses its gilding, and men coma down
to the prose of common life.
*>•••••
The fact is, Mr. Garfield's adminis
tration will he const rained by the times
to obey the best emotions. There is
rest from mere party hatred and sec
tional passion. The wealthy men of
the country, headed by the corpoia
tions, must of necessity he warv. We
have seen that all the organizations
against the Republican rings have bo
gun with them. They votod against
Hancock, because they honestly be
lieved he would unsettle their tarifT.
They already see that their worst ene
mies are the Republican chiefs, and
the very moagreness of the Republi
can majorities in Congress are a warn
ing that they cannot make war ou the
opposite party. That is growing in
good sense and in affluence. The
South is getting wiser, more comforta
ble, and more Democratic. Mahone
has given to Virginia a new issue.
He appeals to the pride of the whole
! Sodth, and it is manifest that he will
be sunk deeper than plummet ever
sounded, as certainly as that his bar
fain grows more odious every day.
'he ice of the small, accidental ma
jority will dissolve, and the summer
will begin a new departure.
TIIK son of a clergyman was deliv
ering a college valedictory, when, in
pulling out his handkerchief) he null
ed out a |wck of cards. "Hulloa !" he
said, "I've got on my father's coat!"
The Iturlul of flic Czar.
George Augusta Mala telegraph" as
follows: " I have just been a s|x*cta
tor to one of the most magnificent, i
most impressive, most pathetic page
ants on which, in the course of a '
lengthened career, accustomed to the
jiotups and vanities of regality, from
royal bridals and feasts to royal fun- '
erals, I have ever been privileged to J
set eye* on. 1 bree cannon fired from '
the fortress directed the various
mourners to get ready to take their '
places.
" A similar salvo about midday 1
gave the signal to start. When the
sable standard, hearing in white the !
initials of the murdereu monarch, was :
unfurled over the fortress, the artil- :
lery Is-gati to fire minute guns and all
•if the bolls in the city began to toll. J
The whole route was lined by troop- '
of the garrison, immediately In-hind !
whom the public were fx-rmitted to
stand. No galleries or plulfnrm* were
erected, ns the householders were only
allowed at personal ri-k and peril to
let windows or balconies to strangers.
" I here was a clump of hauliers, j
the Imperial family haulier, the crim- '
son military standard, broidered with
the Jni|M-rial arms, and the saddle
horscs of his late Majesty, led by j
grooms in deep mourning. Next
came u long defile of peculiurly inter
esting local ensigns, the standard with I
the arms of Tchoorkal, succeeded by
flags bearing cognizances of Armenia, i
Strararda, Georgia and Cartalinia,
each attended by mounted men at arms
and a groom. Then followed more
local flags and more men at arm-.
" Then e-auie a very curious episode,
a long line of officers iu foil uniform,
I waring on variously colore* 1 cushions,
embroidered with gold, the badges and
decorations coufered by foreign mon
arch- and prince- ii|x>ti the late Czar.
Some were simple circlets of plain
gold—others diadem- literally blazing
with luilliauts, emeralds and rubies of
KM-a n.
" After these, in care of functiona- j
ries of the second class, came t In- ,
crowns of the Kingdoms of Georgia,
.lauris, Siberia, Poland. A-trakan and
Kiv-an. with the Im|wrial globe, scep
tre and crown, followed by two ma-firs
ami the grand master of ceremonies ;
all the-e order and iu-ignia hearing
officials being f!auk<-d ou either side
by a battalion of cmk t- from St. Paul's
military school, riwrcliing in single
file. Among the tmticahle feature# of
the process ion was a figure which at
trart<-l much attention—the Knight
of th*- Gulden Arniif, mounted upon
a gorgeously harncs-i-l stee<l, carrying
a drawn sword and >up|<o-ed to sym
bolize the bright and *js>ilc*- charac
ter of the departed sovereign. After
him walked a man at arms in sable
armor and a drawn -w- rd. Perhaps
the most picturesque feature in the
ceremonial were defoliation- which
figured for the fir-t lane in Russian
history, representing in-titutions cre
ated by she late Kni|wror the /.- rn-tnis,
the jus I ire* of the |-iuT and a motly
group of peasants, with one. at least,
of venerable arid putnar* lial apjx-ar
ancc, all attir-l in their winter garb,
some with the colored scarf u-i-d to
girdle their sheepskin and rough cloth
overcoats.
" Not the least striking or solemn
portion of the spcctaide was a vat.
silent crowd, who lined the quays, and
indeed covered every -|*et from which
a distant view could be obtained of i
the procession. There thev stood bare
headed and mute, many kneeing and
praying tor the s-<ul of the Ivmperor,
tollowed by long lines of priest* and
acolytes, numlwring many hundred,
bare-ln-uded and attired iu their eccle
siastie-al no be-, the priests bearing ta
pers. The crowd pn-#-d forward anil
a deep silence prevailed, broken only
by the nw-loiliuus, but weinl-like notes
which nsw and fell ujxiu the car.
" Following the priests came the
gorgeous entafalque, on which rested
the cnffeit. under a rich canopy of
gold, surmounted by rich ostrich
plumes. Salasays: We were asking,
'What next, and next?' when the
hearse came suddenly in view ; and
the prodigious mo** of humanity rap
idly, so to speak, a* a flash of light
ning, uncovered. It was a most won
drous sight to heboid, that black sea
of hat# and caps transformed into aa
immease expanse of pale, upturned
faces. The lumbal car was a bier of ;
ebony and silver, oo wheels, with heT
ily carved silver spokes nnd a super
structurc of black and silver. The
wh< Je was canopied by sutierh material
encircling the columns of the bier.
"The coffin of the illustrious de
ceased was almost hidden by a golden
pall, lined with white satin, ami was
drawu by eight black horses complete
ly shrouded iu sable drnperics. Four
general aides-de-camp stood one at
each corner of the catafalque, the pol
ished metal wheels of which glitenod
in the sunlight. Sixteen general offi
cers held the silken cords of the cano
py. llchind the hicr of his murdered
sire, walked Alexander IU., in his
Imperial solitude, hearing alone his
filial sorrow and his State cares, aud
symbolising in this last respect his
unique position."
A MINIHTHR commenced his sermon
by observing, " What shadows we
arc!" and then paused as if to let the
thought sink deeply iuto the minds of
the congregation, whereupon two lean
spinsters in a front pew guessed they
didn't come there to be insulted, and
they got up and strode indignantly
out.
lieriiliardr* Opinion of Anrrift,
WIIV win (Mir., WHAT i>ri K HAS are* A*l
HOW MII K rmn.
NKW Y oi(i£, April 17. —The HrraJUl
publi-h< an interesting interview with
Sarah Bernhardt relative to her expe
riences in this country:
"What first induced you to think of
coining to America?' said the re
porter.
"Ob ! I always wanted to travel. I
often thought if I had the money I
would go from one part of the world
to the other. And, first of all, I
wanted to come here."
"Wl,v ?"
"Well, you know even intelligent
Europeans have queer ideas of Airier
ica. Now that I have seen it I laugh
ut my absurd notions. For years I
thought of America a* New York,
Boston, Fhiladel, ihia and a place
where they killed pigs, in the West,
called Chicago, and even those place-
I thought were quite near each other.
I mean that those names were familiar
to me. Others I had never heard of."
"And now?"
"And now, indeed. I often said to
Mr. darrctt and Mr. Abbey, 'l* there
no end to ali this?* 'For mercy's
sake, how much further does the coun
try go?' And you know there is San
Francisco stiil beyond."
"Were you more surprised by the
extent of the country than bv the de
velopments of tlie cities named ?"
"Oh, ye*, indeed ; but w hat struck
me more forcibly still was the immense
nunilier of big towns where wealth
and fashion seem to exit. For in
stance, we would drive through a town
where there were no pavements and
where the wheels of our conveyance
-.-ink in the mire to tlx- very hubs, ami
I would think, 'Well, I guess we
won't do any business in this place,'
but at night, iu a handsomely appoint
ed 'Academy of Music,' I would find
a large, intelligent and elegant ly-dreas
ed audience, all glad to see me and
appreciative of gmnl points, ami to
my amazement the receipts would
amount to S3,(KH). It
scemeil a- if the |>cople cropped up
from the very earth itself."
"Then you found mental stimulant,
a- well a- professional and pecuuiary
IK nefit ?"
"Yes, indeed. You see I have al
ways IK*< U obliged to gala a livelihood
—S> <arn my own living—and it is
fortunate for me that I can gratify
my pas-ion for travel and pursue ray
professional calling ou the same line.
You are quite light in callii: it 'men
tal stimulant." I don't envy any wo
man who goe- from New York to New
Orlcau-, from Mobile to Montreal,
from Philadelphia to Fodunk ami
from Salem to Saint .!<*• without being
impressed with the immensity of the
country and the vitality of the peo
"Vitality ?"
"Ye-. Everybody does something
all the time. Everybody work*. Even
artist- work without rest, and in some
places work on Sunday night as on all
olbrr nights, ami at two usatiaees lie
siiles. The whole people seem to have
a (oil of springs ; push, push, pushing
all the time. 1 like it, but it gives
me a fever. I feel the pressure. I
feel the excitement. It's all the same
wherever I go. I expect to fiud
strength and vigor, of course. Init I
am simply amazed at the evidences of
wealth and culture and all the nicer
and finer development* which are Im
proper outcome from wealth ami cul
ture."
Streak- of l.nrk Irv Mining.
I f M the I/O* CwU ll* r%j]
Six months ago a middle-aged man,
a former resident of Gospel Swamp,
had to Iwrrow money to buy a burro
to go to Santa Catarina mountain
|mspectiug. He sold, the other day,
a mine for £13,000, aad has better
mines still for sale. Another former
resident of Ixw Angales discovered a
mine in the Dragoon mountains, ami
kindly placed a friend in the claim.
After a while he war offered $70,00<
for it, and, on finding the other half
owner, discovered he was in an ad
vanced stage of intoxication. The *
whiskey-eyed individual, who had not
put one dollar in the claim, concluded :
"Worth a million if it's worth a cent.
Won't sell for #75,000. Our wives
will he dressed in silk down in Los
Angeles." Th# result was the parties
bought ought the snlier partner, and
are now engaged in freexing out the
would-be millionaire. Another instance
ami I will leave mining matters. A
certain miner here owed a merchant
sllO, and on coming to pay his note
had only SIOO. The merchant tore up
the note, remarking "that it was all
right. INtt me on some claim you
di-oovered." The minor did it, and
the claim has since been sold for S4O
-
Loot OUT po FAIXT! —A little
boy at Oil City recently came into
possession of a miniature printing
Eres*. One day be printed a cord
earing the legend, " l'aint ! I>xk
out!" By some means this card be
came fastened to his sisters hat, and
hung just above her left car, where he
who ran could read, end WHCB she
went down the street there- was a grin
extending clear from Fearl avenue to
the Exchange: and that night the
boy traded off his printing press on
a yellow dog and a popgun.
IT is not possible for three people
to keep the same secret unless two of
them are dead.