rwTUTTKN ron Tnr dispatco.1 In a narrow, not overly clean street, in one of the large cities, stood an old, rickety tenement house, occupied by many poor families, some of whom had known better homes; but were compelled by misfortunes to remove t3 this miserable dwelling. On the top floor lived 10-year-old Julius with bis father and mother and little sister Belva. The children, small as they t ere, had known much trouble and sufferinjr. They could re member their pleasant cottage in the conn try, with its trees and flowers, where they had been so happy and contented; and they knew how their father had, through the treachery ot a pretended friend, lost all, and was obliged to take his family to this pres ent wretched dwelling. Then followed sick ness and poverty, till at last real want came, and often the good, kind parents wonld put aside their share of scanty food that the children might not go huugry. One cold, blustery evening in midwinter, the father, sad and disheartened over the day's fruitless search for work, entered the dingy room, dimly lighted by a small fire in the grate, and said: "Wife, I think I shall go to your rich uncle that lives on the other side of the Black Forest, and ask aid from him." "It would he useless, ray dear husband," replied his wite; "you know his heart is made of stone, and he would only drive you from his door. Besides, vou must not dare the horrors of the Black Forest, for at this time of the vear the woodland sprites play their wildest sports. Perhaps to-morrow you will be more successful." The father sighed deeply, and with a heavy heart abandoned the project. Bnt Julius had been an attentive listener lo this conversation, and all night his braiu was JULIUS MEETS busy making plans for the next day. Tak ing a crust of bread which had been given him for his breakfast, he ran down the creaking old steps and out into the street. After walking a few blocks, he met a kind looking old gentleman, whom he asked: "Can you tell me the way to the Black ForetA?" The old man seemed astonished, and then pointed out the wrfy. "Bnt," he added, "my little man, do not enter those dark shades; for only terror and fright await you." Unmindful of this warning, Julius hastened away to the gloomy woods, whose giint oaks never lost the'i dark green loliage, and through whose spreading branches the winter's wind whistled mourn fully. The boy's stout heart almost failed him as he entered the lonely place. He teemed to see hideous forms gliding amoog the trees, and nglydistorted facesgrinning through the bushes. But remembering the suffering at home, he whistled merrily and trudged on, trying to keep his eyes fixed on the ground that be might not see the terrors about him. He had gone but a short distance when he noticed lying directly ac cross the path a trunk of "a fallen tree, on which sat a very old man, whose shoulders were bent as it accustomed to carry heavy burdens. His old felt hat was drawn down over his eyes, and he seemed to be resting from a long walk. He looked curiously at Julius, and then asked: "Have you any bread or meat? I am half lamished with hunger." Julius showed the crust, which in his ex citement he had forgotten to eat, and offered it to the stranger, saying: "I have not much; but you are welcome to this." The old man eyed the food for a moment, and then ate it greedily. "And now," he said, "how came vou in the Black Forest; and why do you brave such dangers?" Julius soon told his story of the poverty at home, and ot his intended visit to his rich uncle. The old man laughed scornfully, saying: "Ton will get nothing from him but harsh words. I know him well; and if you are aeiermmeu to make the attempt, I shall accompany you to the end of the lor est; for while with me you will be safe." Julius thankfully accepted this protec-. tion, and in the dark shades kept very close to his guide. Although many curious faces fieered through the trees and mocking aughter sounded through the woods, there was no further evidence of elfish sport. "When they reached the end of the forest the old man directed Julius to ids uncle's house, and then suddenly disappeared. With beating heart the boy approached the great stone mansion, and lifted the heavy brass knocker. When ushered into the presence of the stern old man, Julius was so frightened by the keen, forbidding stare that he almost forgot his errand. But there was no need to waste words, for when his uncle had listened unmoved to Julius' pitilul story, he called the servant and ordered him to chase the boy from the house, threatening direlul punishment should he be found there again. Distressed over his failure, the thought of again traversing the Black Forest came to him with new horror; anu, uirowing nimself on the ground, lie wept bitterly. Hearing a hoarse laugh, he looked up and beheld his former friend standing belore him, who said: "I suppose you have your gold?" But whin he observed the boy's grief, he added: 'Come, cheer up; I can help you, and you need not return to vour home empty handed." " J Julius smiled through his tears, and, trusting nis guide, followed him through the lorest, until he stopped be ore a large hlack cave cut in a rock. The old man lignted -u pine torch that hung at the en- saJHSf- a bade Jnhns enter. The flaring Slight cast great shadows on the wall and theiund of their lootsteps echoed again fsuid-acain in the empty hall, i jJT "Here," said the old man, disclosing a strong iron chest standing at on end of the fflE 0& HEW cave, "is where I keep my treasure. Here is gold and to spare. Take what you need; but mark well the spot and remember that within a vear the money must be returned, or ereat distress will fall uPn y.u' Julius was soon buv filling bis pockets with the shining gold; but remembering that the monev was given him only as a loan, he was careiul to take no more than he thought he could repay at the appointed time. Then having again carefully noted the situation of the rive, he was conducted by ihe old man through the forest, and was not long in making his way through the streets of the city lo his home in the old tenement house, where his long absence had caused much anxiety; and the mother was beginning to fear that her troubles had not vet come to an end, and she must suffer the loss of her dear son. But imagine the sur- Srise and joy in that plain little room when ulius returned with his treasure, and told his wonder ul story of the Black Forest, and ot the little old man who had been so gen erous with his gold. That night the bright beaming faces of the happy family made a pleasing contrast with the sad, distressed ones of the morning. The early spring tonnd Julius and Belva with their father and mother in their old home in the country, where the children ronid once more Dlav on the green grass and gather the daisies "and buttercups. The mother's pale face grew round and was tinted with the glow of health, and the father soon lost his sad, care-worn appear ance. The little garden was carefully cultivated, and yielded such abundant crops that long be ore the time appointed the money was ready to be returned to the cave in the forest. And when the year had passed away, and the day bad come on which Julius had promised to revisit the Black Forest, he placed the gold in a bag and set out on his journey. To his surprise the forest, instead of bing dark, was brigbt and THE OLD MAX." sunny, and instead of hideous, grinning countenances, he saw friendly faces smiling upon him. When he reached the cave the old man was not there; but he left the bag of gold and returned home. As he approached the place where the cottage had stood, he saw a magnificent palace, from whose windows poured forth a flood of light At the door he was met by his mother, who handed him a large golden key on which was written in jeweled letters, "Peace and plentv will always be yours. To Julius, from the Old Man of the Forest" Paysik, WHITTIEE'S MOCKING BIED. The Benntr That Filled ibe Poet'a Home With Sonic for 25 Tear. I was reminded recently, says a writer in the New York Herald, of an incident re lated to me on the occasion of a visit to the fioetWhittier at his home at Oak Knoll a ittle over a year ago. It was the sage of Danvers' 80th birthday, and while he was receiving a group of literary dignitaries in his cozy parlor. I was having a delightful chat with his charming little 18-year-old niece Phoebe in the library. Phoebe's love for the domestic pets is only second to that for her uncle, and it was with intense pride that she exhibited the great black cat, whom she christened Kip Van Winkle in Joe Jefferson's honor, and the mocking bird whose songs in many keys are scarcely less tuneful than those of the gray bearded Quaker. The cat and the bird are in perfect accord, and together with the magnificent New foundland, who is alwavs at Mr Whi.,i.'. side, form as Phcebe says, "a perfectly happy family of three. "How old is he?" Phcebe repeated, when I asked about the Uiru's aee; "oh he is eyer so many years ahead of me," with a olush and a laugh, and then sh tnu f a visit paid to Oak Knoll some time belore by a rather pretentious Boston gentleman, who had remarked as he entered the library Ah, I see you indulge in the luxury of a mocking bird. Well, sir, mark my words, you II not keep him long." To this saee observation Mr. Whittier re plied dryly, "No, indeed, I fear not He has been in the lamily lor more than 25 years now." Whether that bird is still in the land of the living is more than I can tell, but the fact or the possibility of a mocking bird's longevity is to my mind well established, if only on bright-eyed Phoebe's authority. INDIVIDUALITY XS IT. Even the Typewriter Can't be Depended on to Conceal One' Identity. "Even typewriters cannot be depended upon to shield che annoymous little writer who sends insulting messages" remarked Dr. INofsinger, Postmaster ot Kansas City, to a Times reporter the other day. "Every one has stock phrases and catch words which would be prettv sura f' .....i him after awhile. Tnen a man's identity is dis cernible in his punctuation in ,. ,.,... in which he strikes the keys of the machine, ,. if iJ "i,"lak-es maae. it is pretty u., u.. .. - ujuu io get away irom himselt and to conceal his identity so that he would not at the same time be discovered." CAUSE OP SEA SICKNESS. The Latest Theory ! Thnt the Blood Ha BInch to Do With It. The causes and philosophy of sea sickness Have always been a great puzzle;but the most generally received theory at present is that the trouble is due to the inequality of presiure in the blood vessels. In a craft tossing on the waves the blood is made to flow first thisway and then that, naturally producing disturbance. As for remedies nothing' has been discovered that is more effectivetban the traditional piece of salt I J yurjk ua Mic ffiu ui a smug. if BEYELATION A FACT. J Another of the Inferences From the Existence of a Creator. TEDTHS WE CAHNOT DISCOVER. God's Chosen People Learned Gntdnallj, Kotm a Single Hour. TESTIMONY OP THE OLD PROPHETS I WKUTCir TOR TII DIBrjLTCn.1 To-day the series of studies in the argu ment for God comes to an end. Onr study began with the three stages of the argu ment itself first cause, then nature, then man. The conclusion was that there is a first cause, and that an examination of its effects as seen in nature and in man shows that this first cause is intelligent, self-Je-tcrmining, personal and righteous. For the effects of a cause are contained iu the cause. Such an effect as personality argues person ality in the cause. Then we took up three great difficulties which lie in the way of this argument: First, the difficulty which is urged by the materialists, and which centers about the doctrine of evolution; then, the difficulty which is urged by the agnostics, and which centers about the limitation of human thought; and finally, the difficulty which is urged by the pessimists, and which ce. ia about the problem of pain. Tbcsedifficulties we examined, and found in them more help than hindrance. The stumbling blocks were discovered to be stepping-stones, involution was seen to emphasize the argument for God by revealing God as ever-present and ever-acting in the world's history. Agnos ticism was seen toemphasizetheargumentfor God by uplifting our conception of God, and revealing Him as one who is all the best that we can conceive of, and infinitely more. Pain, even, was seen to emphasize the argument for God, by revealing God's righteous, wise and loving purpose even in those events in human life which tempt us into doubt THE THREE INFERENCES. Finally we studied the inferences which follow from the fact of God's existence. First, the inference as to prayers; then the inlerences as to miracles, and finally coming to our subject for to-day, the inference as to revelation. Prayer we showed to be natural, beiptul and effectual. Miracles we showed to be not only possible and probable, but actually (citing one eminent instance) veri fiable. Our studies in this subject are to day with the inference as to revelation. Revelation is the communication to a man of a truth which he either did not or could not find out for himself. There are two ways by which we get a knowledge of truth, by discovery and by revelation. The differ ence is in the person of the messenger who brings the truth. In discovery we are the messengers. In revelation somebody else is. Discovery is what we find out by onr own senses. Revelation is what somebody tells us. Now, revelation in the senses in which It is used in theology means truth which is com municated not only to an individual, but to the race, which no man conld have found out Apart from all speculation, reasoning, philosophy, discovery, are certain truths which were not only not aimed at along the path, but which were simply told by God to man. They came into the world Irom tne outside. This is the assertion of religion. WITHOUT IT AM, IS GUESSTVOBK. The importance of this assertion of reve lation is plain at once. Bevelation is ab solutely essential to assured religion. Be cause without it religion is only a series of guesses. It rests on the uncertain founda tions of opinion and emotion. That is the very best that can be said of it Without revelation, the whole idea of God is like the strange specters seen in the mists of the Brocken. God is only the reflection of man. God is but the magnified shadow which man casts upon the clouds. At any moment, by a new discovery, by a change of feeling, all religion may be swept away. Without reve lation, without an unmistakable assurance from God, all is uncertain. Is revelation possible? The question is already answered when we affirm the exist ence of God. For who will doubt as lo whether or not God can reveal Himself? Is God dumb? Cannot God do what we can? He who made the lips and voice of man, cannot He speak? And if it is further debated as to whether or not man could understand a revelation from God conld distinguish it, that is, Irom his own thoughts this we see after a moment's thinking, is onlv another form of the first question. Can God make Himself under derstood? is the same as, can God speak? To such question everybody who believes in God can give but one answer. The answer is "yes." Bevelation is possible? AND PROBABLE, TOO. Is revelation likely? Again the same truth about bod answers the question. This wise, holy, loving and supreme Being, who has created a man with a conscience to dis cern between right and wrong, with an as piration to know the will ot the Most High and to do it is it likely that He would stop there? Think what conscience means. It means that sin displeases and goodness pleases God. Conscience is an affirmation of personality. It is an instinct by which we know that there is a relation between us and a Personal Being above us, a relation strengthened by our righteons actions, and strained by sin. Conscience interprets virtue as obedience and transgression as disobe dience. Conscience points to God. Now, this righteous God whom conscience declares, will He stop with only this much of a revelation of Himsell ? Will He not tell us what His will is, that we may do it? Will He not somehow satisfy this aspiration which He has set in our hearts to know Him? That W'so likely that if there were no further revelation ol God, such a strange lack would prompt the great question, Why ? If God is, why does He not tell us plainly? If God desires us to obey His will, why does He Hot teach us clearly ? Nothing is more unlikely than that God should hide Himselt out ot men's sight and hearing in an eternal and unbroken silence. That would be the difficulty of difficulties. Bevelation follows naturally along the lines of the affirmation of God. THE FACT OF REVELATION. Bevelation then is probable and likely, but is it a fact? Is there anywhere a reve lation of God? It is evident, of course, that the great truths of religion came to each of us as a revelation. They were not discovered by us. From our parents, from our teachers, from our Bibles we learned what we know about God. That, as a matter of fact, is the actual way in whioh this knowledge came to us. Somebody told us. But go back behind that Who told our teachers? And their teachers did these truths come to them by revelation or by dreaming? And, since we find that these truths were revealed to them, how did the revealers find ont truth? Back and back we go, and, so far as the great truths of religion are concerned, it is revela tion all the way, and nowhere discovery. Here are five great assertions of religion (1) theiact ol God, (2) the fact of duty" (3) the fact of providence, (4) the fact of 'salva tion, (5) the fact ot immortality. Who can name the discovererof any oncof these greaj truths? Is not discovery, indeed, uuthink aole in regard to these? Columbus has an idea that there is land somewhere over on the other side, and, having this idea, he pushes on day alter day until he finds it But imagine, if you can, a man with no faintest idea of God discovering God; or with no glimmer of a difference between right and wroug, discovering duty; or in the face of the fact of pain, asserting as a discovery that God cares for the indi vidual; or in the face of sin, that God will forgive; or in the face ot death, assert ing that there is life alter it. These facts are undiscoverable. But truths which we possess, an3(whkh11,wecaanottJtriPC jo, covery, belong to revelation. The" his dis- istory of the race is parallel with our own history. The knowledge of the great truths of religion came from the outside. RELIGION OF THE RACES. For consider what it is that we see when we lookout upon the religious knowledge of the race. We sea great tracts of people, having only a dim glimmer of these five great truths. Some put the emphasis on one, some on another. In China the im portant truth is duty; in Egypt, immortal ity. We see the greatest and wisest souls of these lands gaining only a little closer conception of these truths, and not able to make the common people understand even the knowledge they have gained. The em phasized truth is -grasped, perhaps, but all the rest is dim and vague. Here, we say, is revelation, but only a glimmer of revela tion, such as might h.ave come as their own writings, indeed, indicate from some ancient and far-away communication of truth from God to man, dimly remembered. In all these nations revelation is not only dim, but unprogressive. It tends rather to degenerate. But in the midst of these nations, as they appeared upon the man of the world 20 cen turies ago, is one quite different In this nation the great truths of religion are far clearer. Every one ot the five is recog nized. Step by step we can trace in the old records, which we call the Bible, how these truths were emphasized, and confirmed, and made more clear. The unity of God, the rule of duty, the conception of God as one who cares, the fact of forgiveness set out in sacrifices, and by and by the fact of life certainly, pre all taught by the teachers of this nation as they are taught nowhere else on earth. Presently comes One who both teaches and embodies all this perfectly, whose teaching, the race even that part which leads all the rest of it has not yet learned adequately. With Christianity the knowledge ot these great truths begin to spread abroad. NONE OTHER LIKE IT. Now notice (1) here is a nation which does somehow have a clearer knowledge of truth than any other. We study the great religions ot history. We compare them all with this. We compare all other sacred books with the holy Scriptures of the Hebrews. The wonder is that there is so lit tle in the other religions and the other books. These Hebrew prophets and poets stand among the sacred poets and prophets of all other creeds as Plato and Aristotle stood amidst the crowd of obscure cotempo rary philosophers. Nobody can be blind' to the difference. Theie appears, then, in the history of the race a nation having a knowledge of relig ious truth so much fuller and more ade quate than is had elsewhere that we call it a special knowledge. Notice again (2) that among this Hebrew people this religious knowledge is gradual and progressive. One ot the objections which is made to the Old Testament is that there is so much imperfection in it The heroes blunder and the saints err, and the standard of morality is not our standard. And some men make sharp comments upon this state of things. But the men who make the comments misunderstand the condi tions. The revelation to the Hebrews was a progressive revelation. And it mnt be plain that there can be no progress withont imperfection. Progress is simply an ad vance from the less perfect to the more per fect. Nobody who believes in evolution can consistently fault the Old Testament It is the frank, straightforward record of the evolution ot a people. IT MUSTBE GRADUAL. Bevelation, indeed, must ot necessity be gradual. Because the revelation is made to man, and man can take in truth only in proportion to his capacity for truth. Man is a growing animal, and accordingly man's receptiveness to truth increases. Taking man as he is, the only way in which a reve lation can be made to him is by revealing one truth at a time. After a truth is un derstood, a second truth can be built up upon it. It is perfectly true that God could have taught all truths to man in the Garden of Eden. All civilization, all sciences, all re ligions might have been unfolded to him at the start But that could have been done in only one way only be creating a different kind of man, only bycreating a man in whose language there should be no such woids as progress, growth or evolntion. God conld have revealed His will lully at once, but only as He could teach partial differen tial equations to a boy six months old by creating a new kind ot brain. Questions as to such possibilities as these and uonderings why God did thus and not so, can have no end and no answer. Why any such condi tion as time at all? Why any race of men? Why auy world? We might as well stop before we begin. RELIGION IS A GROW H. Here is the point upon which I am insist ing: In whatever way we may accouut for the gradualness of growth in religious knowledge among the Hebrews, its erad- ualness is a plain fact Beligion grew as the world grew. Here is a race, alone among the nations of the earth, which possesses not only a special kind of theological knowledge, not possessed elsewhere, but comes into this possession by regular, steady, gradual growth. And now (3) a third point Step by step in the history of this race came new nrcps. sions of religious truth where from? Here is Moses, here is Isaiah, here is Jesus of Nazareth, each with his new message, and the last with a message including and tran scending all the other; what have they to say for themselves? All along, century by century, the He brew prophets with one voice declare that God has spoken to them. The truth which they teach came to them, not by discovery, but by revelation. AVere the men mis taken? Nothing can be plainer than their declarations. God has spoken to them. At last comes Christ to be the revelation of revelations. Was He mistaken? Or is it the people who deny that there is anv reve lation who are mistaken? Here are the conditions of the question. God can make a revelation to man; it is al together likely that God would make a rev elation to man; some of the wisest, strongest, clearest-sighted and holiest men who ever lived said that God did make a revelation to them. The conclusion is that God has re vealed Himself, indeed. George Hodges. A B0T CABT00NIST. The ' Wonderful Work of 10-Yenr-OId Er.kino Williams of London. Pall Mall Budget An era of juvenile prodigies seems to have set it We have child actors and actresses galore; Otto Hegner is by no means the sole child pianist; there is even a child violinist or two; but Erskine Williams.aged 10 years, is probably the only artist of his aee. He is professionally known as "Little Erskine, the Child Cartoonist," and his work is of a very remarkable discription. Little Erskine is the son of a sign-painter and letter-writter, who lives in Stockwell road. Ever since he could stand upright the pencil has been his chief toy. He used to draw flowers and ships, but latterly he has taken to faces. He uses anything pencil, chalk, charcoal, oil, water-colors anything he can get hold of, and recently he has been trying pastels, but he finds them difficult work. Among others, he made a capital sketch of Mr. Gladstone, a face he is particularly fond ot portraying. This sketch was set t by the secretary ofUhe club to Mr. Glad stone with an account of the precocious artist By return of post came a postcard, with the following note in the Grand Old Man's own handwriting: Fray present my compliments to the little artist, and my wishes for every success In his future operations. Faitbfullr yours. . W. E. Gladstone. Mtuhroom Poisoning. Illustrated American. "I Mushroom poisoning is so common among the peasants of Italy thai ruraf dispensaries keep ready a stock of antidotes. Unfortu nately, these rarely reach the patient in time, and deaths of several members ot a family simultaneously ,a,-au;tf mM 5 quently. - - ' CITI OF THE SULTAN. Mary J. Holmes Writes Entertain ingly of Her Visit to It. DOGS BATE AS NECESSARY EVILS. How the Turkish Beauties Cast Sheep's .Eyes Over Their Veils. ABDUL HAMID'S LIFE OP ' ANXIETI WEirrZlf FOB THE DISPATCH.: It had been raining for two or three days, and when at last we anchored in the Bos phorus a white mist lay so thickly on the hills aroiind us that we could see but little of the city, except its hundreds of minarets rising like masts against the gray sky, and its tall cypress trees which mark the graves of the dead. As large ships cannot come very, near the shore, we were lauded in small boats, and were soon picking our way through what seemed to be a narrow lane, but was in fact a street, the dirtiest and muddiest I ever saw, with narrow sidewalks and tumble-down houses, which might have been Btanding when Constantine rebuilt the city in A. D. 328. But once out of the lane we were on a broader, wider street, which wound up the hill to our hotel, from which an hour later we started with our guide, George, to explore the town. Cross ing the Golden Horn oh the long bridge which was swarming with p eople, whose strange, Oriental costumes would have looked oddly enough to us if we bad not just come from Cairo, we found ourselves in Stamboul, the oldest part of Constantinople, and more interesting to strangers than Gal ata or Pera, where the hotels are situated and the buildings more modern. Here in Stamboul you plunge at once into a laby rinth of dark, winding, dirty streets, many of them without a name and apparently leading nowhere in particular, so abruptly do they turn and so completely do thev seem in the distance to be closed up by the nouses, oi wnicn a writer nas aptiy saia that they were dropped down any where and the people left to get round them as they could. A CITY PULL OF DOGS. The streets are crowded with a motley mass of people, Turks and Greeks, Syrians and Egyptians, and dogs 300,000 of them, we were ttld, and they are on the increase every year. No one owns them; no one pets them, although many feed them, and you will often see them prowling around a pile of refuse thrown out for their benefit, or lying in the middle of the street and on the sidewalks, where you step over them and around them and sometimes on them with impunity, lor they are very good na tured and quiet, except after nightfall when their privacy is intruded upon by one of their kind. These dogs live iu wards, and as the Englishman's house is his castle, so a Turkish dog's ward is his fortress, and woe to the canine found near it at night, and woe to the tired tourist when a battle between the invader and invaded is going on. I have heard such a battle and know whereof I write. Leaving the dogs, of which I counted nearly 700 in one drive, our first visit was to the old Seraglio, which stands upon a high triangular point overlooking the sea and is the first object you see as you enter the harbor and the last as you sail away. It was built by Mohammed II., and is shut in by lofty walls and gates, and with its suites ot apartments, its mosques and gardens and tall cypresses, all thrown together without the least idea of harmony or order, it covers a space nearly three miles in circumference. MYSTERIES OF THE HAREM. Here the old Sultans kept their court or harem, which we were told sometimes con sisted of several hundred wives, a goodly number for one man to manage, and it is not st ranee that his own private palace was outside the gates, where he could flee for quiet and safety when the domestic cyclones, which must often have ensued, were at their height sometimes, it was whispered, when a wife was very relractory, or he was tired of her, she was sewed up in canvas and quietly dropped over the wall into the waters below, which tell no tales of the death struggles they have witnessed, or the dying moans they have smothered. Occasionally a better fate, as some might think, await the lair rebel, who was bestowed upon one of the Sultan's officers, either as a reward of merit or a pun ishment, it mattered little which to the im perious man whose word was life or death to so many thousands. Bnt the harem is no longer in the Seraglio; for when the palace was burned it was removed, and is now across the Golden Horn in the modern part of the city. Here the present Sultan, Abdul Hamid, leads a life of nervous dread and fear, second only to that of the Czar of Bussia. Warned by the late of his prede cessor, Abdul Assiz, who was murdered in his magnificent palace on the shore ot the Bosphorus, he is in constant expectation that a like calamity will some day befall him, and so he secludes himself as far as possible from the public, and when on Fri day, the Mohammedan Sunday, he goes, as he is compelled to do it he would avoid an insurrection, to the Mosque, just across the street, he is GUARDED BY 7.000 SOLDIERS, each one of whom he looks upon as a possi ble assassin. On these occasions there is a great deal of ceremony and show, and the officers are gorgeous ia their apparel, but the Sultan is very plainly dressed in black. with a cheap red fez upon his head, while his dark eyes, which look as if sleep were unknown to them, wander nervously over the shouting multitude, from which he shrinks in tear, only breathing freely when he is safe within the walls of his palace. Past this palace onr party attempted to walk, but was ordered back by an official with fierce gestures, whose meaning we could not mistake, and so we contented our selves with going down a side street where we could look at the building, but not speak aloud of it or its pitiable, cowardly occupant, for when we asked some questions, using the Sultan's name, we were promptly hushed by our guide, who spoke only iu wnispers, with a iu reive glance in all direc tions. What he feared I do not know, but if ever we were glad for the religion founded on peace", good will to men, it was when we stood, that sunny afternoon, not far from the Sultan's handsome palace, and thought of all the superstition and distrust which cluster around the Musselman's faith. AT BEAUTIFUL ST. SOPHIA. The mosque ot St. Sophia, which stands near the old Seraglio, is, perhaps, the most interesting building in Constantinople. It is in the lorm ot a ureeK cioss, and the cen tral dome is ISO feet above the floor, and must once have been much higher, as the gilded cupola could be seen 100 miles out at sea, and was a landmark lor ships coining up the harbor. Inside it is very beautiful, with its columns ot marble and grauite and porphysy, some brought from Heliopolis and Ba'albec and Athens, and others irom the Temple of Diana at-Ephesus. Near the entrance is the marble lountain where the laithiul were washing their feet, while we, the infidels, the Gentile dogs, shuffled about iu large felt shoes, closely followed by an attendant, who seemed to have a special antipathy to mysell as the only woman in the party. As a rule Mohammed women are not ad mitted to the mosques, and when they are they usually sit iu the galleries, with their faces veiled and only tneir brigbt eyes visible to the mascnline crowd below. We were fortunate in reaching the mosque at an hour when so many were prostrating themselves before the shrine of Mecca iu prayer, while in a corner a. young priest was expounding or reading the Koran to a group of boys, who were repeating the S'-rOHia 4o2aJlopd,'in$i.sonBf)nasal ne, accompanied with a swaying nack and forth of the body, u they kept time to the doleful singsong. THE SWEATING PILLAR. Here we saw the sweating pillar from Heliopollg, which In summer is sometimes covered with drops of water, and In which they told us were the bones of St John. To this mosque the Sultan is obliged to come once a year, suffering torture at every step and looking years older on his return, so acute are his fears that some act of violence will be attempted on his person. The Hip podrome is the most celebrated square in the citr, but nothing remains of its former grandeur, except the Obelisk of Ttieodosius, the pillar of Constantine and the serpentine column of three twisted serpents. The bazaars are, very attractive, and especially the grand bazaar, which is roofed over aud is a succession of narrow streets and passages, gaily decorated with the wares to be sold. Here are crowds of tourists bar gaining for goods, while the oily-tongued merchants smile and flatter and offer them coffee and cigarettes, and always end by cheating tbem more or less, according to the shrewdness or credulity ot the buyer. THE TURKISH BEAUTIES. Here, too, arc many Turkish ladies closely veiled, some on donkeys and some on loot, and some attended by servants, a part of whose duty it is to report any impropriety to the master at home. At these women, some of whom are very handsome, English and American men stare fearlessly, while the etiquette of the Mohammedan requires that he shall turn his eyes away from be holding the charms which belong to his neighbor; consequently, a stolen glance or two, when the woman is fairer than usual, is all he dares to indulge in. The ladjes, however, are not so carefnl, and their eyes, which often have a coquettish twinkle in them, as if chal lenging admiration, look curiously over the veils drawn across the nose, and which, as they are olten of some white, thin material, scarcely conceal the features they are in tended to hide. It would take too long, in an article like this, to tell of all we saw in that strange city built on many bills, with oue hand touching Asia, where Scutari lies, and the other holding a part of Europe in its grasp. The days we spent there were delight ul days and full of interest, and they come back to me over and over again, as does the lovely sunset which shown on mosque and dome and minaret and palace, and gave to sky and sea a brilliant coloring ot violet crimson as we sailed in the golden light through the Bosphorns and out upon the Marmora on our way to Athens. Mary J. Holmes. BOULANGEE'S AMBITION. With a Gun Tfant Wonniln, but Doesn't Kill, He Will Win a Crown la Africa. New York World. "You were surprised to hear that General Bonlanger intended to go to Alrica?" asked a Frenchman of me at dinner a few nights since. "I was indeed. What does he hope ac complish by such a move?" My companion looked mysteriously wise for a moment, then, lighting a cigar, said: 'The world does not know Bonlanger. He is the most ambitious man the race has seen since the First Napoleon passed away. Bonlanger has not been quiet on the Isle of Jersey. He has conceived a great project whereby he hopes to win a crown. He has gathered around him many ot the most des perate men in Europe. He has determined to drive the Germans and English out of Africa." Among the men who followed Bonlanger to Jersey, was a clever but ill-regulated American who invented the most terrible weapon yet constructed. It works some what on the principle of a gatliog gun, but instead of discharging cartridges loaded with large balls it sends into the ranks of the enemy at every turn ot the crank thousands of small shot about the size of shoe buttons, but peculiar in shape. They are round at the base and taper down to a fine point. If three or four ol them strike a man they give bimsuch ex cruciating pain that he becomes at once un fitted for further duty. Now, a wounded man is more detrimental to an army in ac tion than one who is killed outright Blinded, crazed by the discharge from the 'Bonlanger gun, as it has been named, a hundred thousand men would be powerless before a small company armed with the new weapon." "I ree. And what is Boulanger's plan of action?" "Heintends to take ten of the new gnns with himto Africa and a force ot 1,000 men. He will join the French troops now in ac tion against the King of Dahomey, and by the influence of his immediate success against that monarch will gain the adher ence of all the French soldiers in the Dark Continent. He will then begin hostilities against the English and Germans and, when he has made himself master of Africa, he will set sail for France." MAKING PLASTEE CASTS. Bow Cople of Famous Works Are Secured For the Great Galleriei. "We get our plaster casts of celebrated statnes and other art works from the great museums of the world, in Borne, Berlin,' Paris and London," said the curator of the Corcoran gallery to a Washington Star re porter. "In those great institutions per haps not more than half a dozen iu number are gathered practically all of the important original antiques iq existence. If it is a statue from the British Museum that we want we are obliged to send to a dealer named Brecciani, who is the only person permitted to make casts of art objects in that institution. A bust of Cffisar is worth SI 0, a fragment of an ancient frieze the same amount, a reproduction of the cele brated 'Disk Thrower' $37, a caryatid $30 and a whole harpy tomb $45. The last, of course, is a particularly elaborate Diece. When we want anything in the way of a cast we send on an order, just as for any other kind of merchandise. "The making of a cast from a statue is aD exceedingly difficult affair. For the head and face alone 0 or 60 pieces are required to make the'mold; the ear will very likely take 12 pieces. Work is begun, sar, by placing one scraD of moist plaster of piris over a small section of the face, t-iking care not to cover any more surface than the plas ter when hardened can readily be with drawn from without breaking. When this piece has become hard it is permitted to re main sticking to the statue, while another scrap of plaster is applied to an adjoining section of surface. "In this way the task slowly progresses until the statue is covered with hard plaster, the bits being separated from each other by a sort of shellac on their edges, which pre vents them from sticking together. After this has been accomplished it only remains to remove the pieces of plaster, which fit together, into the shape of the desired mold." BEFLEX NEBVEACTIOK. How a Swnllow of Ico Cream Will Came Shnrp Pain In the Temple. Why is it that upon taking an imprudently large mouth 'ul of ice cream one is apt to feel a sensation of violeut pain in the tem ple? says a writer in tbe Washington Star. The ice cream, when such a big mouthful of it is iuciutiously swallowed, produces a chilling effect upon the nerves of the larynx, or "voice box," aud of the pharynx, in the throat The sensation shooU back to the center o' those nerves in the brain; but theie it finds a side connection with the great facial nerve that starts from in front ot the ear and extends its brunches over the side of the face. One branch of this facial nerve, extend ing across the temple, is a nerve of sensa tion, while the other branches are nerves of motion, governing chiefly the play of the mouth. The pain from the chill is side tracked along the nerve branch that tra verses the temple and tbe feeling is likely to be quite agonizing in that locality for a moment or so, very likelv involving the eyeball sympathetically. This feeling of a sensation JApu&ptve when, another nerve I is attacked 11 wnat u canea "renex action. THE FIRESIDE SPHINI A Collection of EnlanaM Hats for Hern MfE Address commuiications for this department to E. R. Chasboukn. Lewislon, Hame. . 1091 AH APOLOGY. -XqQ -X.SS 1). M.H. 1092 CHARADE. Some sixty years ago a lass Belonging to the peasant class A Polish girl was dancing gay, . Alone, npon the Sabbath day. When a schoolmaster, passing by. Chanced this fair, lively girl to spy. He watched her In her frolickin?. And while she danced he heard her sing; The tune he noted down with care. Because ft seemed such pretty air. Such orfgin haj, first, a dance That soon grew popular in France, And thence it spread till it became One that acquired a world-wide fame. Lastii a garment one that's common. And may le worn bv man or woman. Who emay be worn by ladies fair, Bnt it is what no man nonld wear. In name of nrst we plainly see The kind of last that whole most be. NXLSOHIAX. 1093 TRAKSPOSITIOlf. Weary of the care and sorrow. Weary of the constant pain; I wonld pass away to-morrow With the changes I might gain. Short, at best, the life Defore us. We mutt live It to the end Primal thoughts that hover o'er us, (Wnich like lightningstrokes descend. True, there comes a strong temptation; 'lis to end tins ceaseless strue: Whether rich or great our station, Whether old or young in life. Years cannot our hope once brighten. When the joys of life have fled. Nanght can then our burdens lighten ' Till we're numbered with the dead. Yet there is a silver lining. Yet there comes a quiet morn; Why this ceaseles-, sad replniDgT Time will heal the heart-strings torn. And oursptrir.ytnal, soaring To the realms of brightest day, Shall in measures sweet adoring. Pass the cycling years away. H. c. Buboes. 1094 DIAMOND. L A letter. 2. Angry. 3. Having long and heavy balr. i. An arbor. 5. JIanco-nsh. 8. Low plants having fleshy roots. 7. Detracted. 8. Doomed. 9. Taught (Obs). 10. Gloomy. IL A letter. Dominie. 1095 syncopation-. The whole and last seemed to agree Like tweedle-dum and tweedle-dee; 'Twould bother Crabb to find fn these A difference: they're ULe two peas. The variance is so slight and dim. Each seems the other's synonym; And yet I own, for it is true. There's some distinction 'twixt the two. Though self-conceit each seem, to show In tnose who tneir own trumpet blow. One's self to ever aggrandize. Is just what whole, no doubt implies. Although one thinks he's number one. In talk 'tis best self-praise to shun. List is self-love, the kind that leads To reference to other's'dceds; To judging them with self iu view. And telling just how jou feonld do. For what it's worth take what I say; I have defined in Webster's way. Nslsosias, 1096 DOUBLE cross-word. In "sparer" . In "square;" In "proner" In "drone? In "pray;" In "stray." People rant about tbe total. Published widely In onr land. Ministers and earnest Christians, Others of the pious banc Now we think them quite too sweeping In their efforts to reform: Yet they do It all sincerely. And the contest waxes warm. H. C. Behqer. 1097 double acrostic. Words or S I'tters. L A dancer. 2. To acquaint with. 3. Ele gant (Obs). 4. A genus bf small trailing plants Including tbe ground ivy. 5. A player. 6. An exudation of spume found on some Jilants, especially about the joints of the avenderand rosemary. PrimulsA young servant Finals notorious. Glass. 1098 ANAGRAM. I asked a person who seemed droll For information zbontr whole. He said 'twas a fantastic part Of style employed in painting art And then another one I beard Ask him the meaning of the word. He answered: "It is my conjecture That it refers to architecture, A kind that modern Roman taste Has materially debased." And then I listened wbile a third Inquired about this curious word. Tbe man immediately replied, That 'twas to literature allied. And that it means what Is romantic, I thought tho fellow was pedantic. And nothing more 1 cared to hear. Because he seemed a "man so outer." .Nelsoxiax. 1099 curtailment. A total takes part In a one Where people or animals run; He may not win tbe first Though he strive till be burst; Then bis backers will vow they're undone. Botes Sweet. 1100 NUMERICAL. More fs 5, 6, 1. 7 8 Than meet the eye, I here will state. If yon 4, 2, 3, 6 your views On others, a good total choose; For shallow proofs are mere pretense. And may to wise men give otfente. BlTTIS SWSZT. ANSWERS. 10S1 Locke's Essay on the Human Under-standinc. 1083 Sum-mar-y. 1034-D I S M E M B E B INTERIOR S T O N E R S MENACE ERECT MIRE BOS E R R 1085 Discontinue. 1086 E, cat amaranth: The Catamaran. 1087 S II U N I. E s 8 HOBX7 I SH A8 8INKOO MONAROHO. 1088 Rarefaction. 10891. Crapes. 2. Scrape. 3. Capers. acers. 1090 Main, mac; CRAMPS AND STITCHES. Tbe Cnme U Contraction of the Itlnselee From Eiihvr Cold or Fatigue. Washington Evening Star. Doubtless you have on occasions waked up in the night with a fearful pain.in the calf of your leg and found the muscles drawn up iu a knot This "cramp, "as it is called, ,is simply a contraction of the muscles caused by cold or fatigue. Irrita tion of any sort, however, may bring it on, by an electric current, for instauce, which will render the subject experimented upon incapable of extending the limb affected. A "stitch in the side" is the same sort of a cramp attacking other muscles; a "crick in the neck" is a contraction of the muscles of the ueck owing to cold. A slight wrench in the neck will oft times produce a most agonizing sensation of burning, one or more of the many ligaments that fasten tbe head securely in position having been strained for a moment .Every one has felt the pain in the side that comes from rnnning lor a distancept ia simply a ipasmothamusojes of.tbe diaphragmifroon violent and unaccustomed exercise.' ' Hgw ADVKRTisxanrjrrg. MOST Important Announcement New Story by William Black. A NEW8PAPEB NOVEL. DEALING WITH COTEMPORABY lAVl NEVER BEFORE PUBLISHED. Specially Secured for the Columns of THE DISPATCH. We have pleasure In announcing to onr read ers that we have secured for publication in the columns of The Dispatch a new work of Ac tion by Mr. William Black an author univer sally admired his forthcoming wore belne, moreover, specially written for newspaper pub lication and designed to Interest all classes. The story Is altogether new and unpublished, and as it deals to some extent with present day events and characters, its publication from week to week will arouse the ntmost attention. William Black's New Novel WILL BE ENTITLED 'STAND FAST, j CKAIG-ROISTOtf," And tbe story it will tell will be as unconven tional as the title of the work. "Stand Fast, Craie-Royston,"fs the family motto of one of the characters lotrodnced by the author and a very Interesting; original and breezy sort of In dividual he proves himself to be. Bnt bis great est claim upon tbe reader lies in the fact that his daughter is the heroine of the story. Will iam Black's heroines are amonz the most de lightful creations in our literature, and the heroine of the present story is equal to the best ol her charming predecessors. "Stand Fast, Cralg-Royston," whatever else it may be. Is first and foremost A Love Story, Introducing Scotch Poetry and Saxon Prose, American Girls and English Aristo crats, Theoretical Socialism and Practical Politics. A STORY TO BE READ. THE AUTHOR 07 "STAID FAST, 0KAIG-K0YST0JT Mr. William Black. Mr. WILLIAM BLACK, the author of "A Princess ot Thole," "Sunrise," eta, was born a I little short of 0 years ago, in Glasgow. Hisl youthful ambition was to become an artist, bnt' eventually be drifted Into journalism, of which he may still be considered a distinguished and successful representative. He located himself, in London in 1861. As a newspaper representa tive he went through the Prussia-Austrian War of 1S6S. "In Silk Attire." produced In 1869, dealt with peasant life in the Black Forest "Kil meny,"The Monarch of MinclngLane" and "A Daughter of Heth," followed in the order named and ran through many editions. Next cams "The Strange Adventures of a Phaeton,"wbicbs literally described a drivtnc excursion the author made from London to Edinburgh, with, a thread of fiction interwoven. It is said that a good many people. Americans chiefly, have adopted this plan of exploring the English counties, and have taken these "Adventures" as a sort of guide book. A glance through the author's list of published works reveals that nis later stories appeared in the following sequence: "A Princess of Thnle." "The Maid of Kileena," "Three Feathers," "Madcap Violet," "Green Pastures and Piccadilly." "Mscleod of Dare," "White Wings: A Yachting Romance," "Son rise: A Story of the Times," "That Beautiful Wretch," "Shandon Bells," "White Heather." "The Wise Women of Iverness," "Sabiaa Zembra," "In Far Lochaber." 'STAND FAST, 0RAIG-R0YST0N," Wil 1 prove to be as clever and as successful as any of the works preceding It from the same gifted source. POINTS OF THE NEW BER1AL, Publication ot which begins in The Dispatch af i 1 1) 1 flilil i SUNDAY, JULY 6, 1890. 1 The heroine Is a young American gizl of Scotch descent, who has traveled much and who has a charming simplicity and independence of character. Tho story Is full of Interest and the move raent is steady and continuous. Tbe perusal of the opening chapters gives promise of same surprising situations in the near future. The hero is a young fellow of means, wltb brilliant prospects in the political world; bis father Is a millionaire with socialistic theories. Tho love story which the author has to tell it ' of a most original kind, and requires for Its elaboration several Interesting personages. In cluding a family of Americans and several fashionable notabilities In London. The political characters introduced can al most be recognized as counterparts of people now living. We have copious references In the mouth of an old Scotch poet to the claims of Scotland In song and story, and as a back ground we have fashionable life In Mayfair, at iiemey ana .Brignton, laoor and co-operative congresses in various parts of the country, and a characteristic leader of the masses In s North Country man named Ogden. "Stand Fast Cralg-Royston" possesses a powerful and exciting clot and will appeal strongly to ail classes ot readers. William Black's LATEST, BEST AND MOST POWESfUZ STOUT, "STAND FAST, CEAIG-KOYSTON' WILLCOMMENCE PUBLICATION IN THS COLUMNS OF THH DISPATCH ON SUNDAY, JULY 6, 1890. JS-Aeents should send ia orders early. Lovers of High Class Literature who desire to read THE BEST SERIAL announced so far this season, should mall orders for THE DIS PATCH, or call in person. Corner SmlthfUld anauDlaaondfsetreets, PltufcttrgyPa. lei-? snous, ua, King & i 4LJ
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