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THE PITTSBURG- DISPATCH, SUNDAY. JULY 6, 1890.
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also abandoned the Scotch accent in which
he had addressed 'his lordship.' It was to
be a Brent book, this collection of Scotch
American poetry. It would enable him to
pay a well-deserved compliment to many an
old friend of his in Toronto, in Montreal, in
Hew York. He was warm in his praises of
this young Lord Musselburgh, and pre
dicted a great future for him. Then he put
his head out of the window and bade the
driver stop opposite the door of a wine
merchant's office.
"Grandfather," said the girl, "may I
wait for you in the cab?"
"Certainly not," he answered with de
cision. "I wish yon to see men and things
as part of youredncation. Live and learn,
Haisrie every moment of your life."
Leaving the Scotch plaid in the cab, he
crossed the pavement and went into the
office, she meekly following. The wine mer
chant was sent for, and presently he made
his appearance.
"Good afternon, Sir. Glover," aid George
Bethune said, with something of an air of
quiet patronage. "I wish to order some
claret from you.
The tall, bald, bland-looking person whom
he addressed did not seem to receive this news
with any joy; but theyounjr lady was there,
and he was bound to be courteous; so he
asked Mr. Bethune to be kind enough to
step into back-premises where he would put
some samples before him. Maisrie was for
remaining where she stood; but her grand
father bade her come along; so she also went
with them into the back portion of the es
tablishment, where she was accommodated
with a chair. At this table there were no
illustrated books to which she could turn;
there were only bottles, glasses, corkscrews,
and a plateful of wine-biscuits; so that she
kept ber eyes fixed on the floor and was
forced to listen.
"Claret, Mr. Glover," said the old man,
with a certain sententiousuess and assump
tion of importance that he bad not displayed
in speaking to Lord Musselburgh, "claret
was in former days the national drink o
Scotland owing to the close alliance with
Trance, as you know and the old Scotch
families naturally preserve the tradition.
So that you can hardly wonder if to one of
the name of Betnune a sound claret is
scarcely so much a luxury as a necessity.
"Why, sir, my ancestor, Maximilien de
Bethune, Due de Sully, had the finest vine
yards in the whole ot Prance: and it was
his privilege to furnish the royal table "
"I hope he got paid," the bland
wine-merchant said, with a bit of a laugh;
but happening to glance towards the young
girl Eitting there, and perceiving that the
pale and beautiful face had suddenly grown
surchanged with color, he, instantly, and
with the greatest embarrassment, proceeded
to stumble on
"Oh, yes, of course," he said, hastily; "a
great honor naturally the royal table a
great honor indeed I quite understand
the Due de Sully, did you say? oh, yes
a great statesman "
"The greatest financier France has ever
possessed," the old man said, grandly.
"Though lie was by profession a soldier,
when he came to tackle the finances of the
country, he paid off 200,000,000 of .livres
the whole of the king's debts, in fact and
filled the royal treasury. It is something to
bear his name, sorely; I confess I am proud
of it; but our family goes far further back
than the Due de Sully and the sixteenth
century. Why, sir," he continued, in his
stately manner, "when the royal Stewarts
were known only by their office Dapiier
or Seneschallus they were called the
Beatons and Bethunes could bbast
of their territorial designation. In
1434, when Magister John Seneschallus,
Provost of Methven, was appointed
one of the Lords Auditors, it was Alexander
de Beaton who administered the oath to
him the same Alexander de Beaton who,
some two years thereafter, accompanied
Margaret of Scotland to Trance, on her
marriage with the Dauphin. Yes, sir, I
confess I am proud to bear the name; and
perhaps it is the more excusable that it is
about the last ot our possessions they have
left us. Balloray "
He paused for a second, and there was a
break in bis voice:
"Do you see that child?" he said, point
ing with a trembling forefinger to his grand
daughter. "If there were any right and
justice, there sits the heiress of Balloray."
"It was a famous lawsuit in its time,"
the wine-merchant observed but not look
ing in Maisrie's direction.
"It killed my father, and made me a
wanderer on the face of the earth," the old
man said; and then he raised his head
bravely.
"Well, no matter; thev cannot rob me of
my name; and I am Bethune ot Balloray
whoever has the, wide lands."
Now perhaps there still dwelt in the
breast of the suave looking wine merchant
some remorse of conscience over the remark
that had caused this pale and sensitive look
ing young creature to flush with conscious
shame; at all events be bad quite abandoned
the somewhat grudging coldness with which
he had first received his customer; and when
various samples 01 claret had been brought
lroni the cellar and placed on the table, it
was the more expensive that he .rankly and
fully recommended. Nay, he was almost
pressing. And again he called to his as
sistant, and bade him fetch a particular
bottle of champagne; and when that was
opened, he himself poured out a glass and
offered it to the young lady, with a biscuit
or two, and seemed concerned and distressed
when she thanked him and declined. The
end of this interview was that old George
Bethune ordered a considerable quantity of
claret; and carried away with him lor im
mediate use, a case o 12 bottles, which was
put isto the .our-wheeled cab.
Park street, Mayfair, occupies a promi
nent position in the fashionable quarter of
London, but from it at intervals run one or
two smaller thoroughfares, sometimes end
ing in stables, the dwellings in which are of
a quite modest and unpretentious appear
ance. It was to one of these smaller thor
oughfares that George Bethune and his
granddaughter now drove, and when they
had entered the quiet little house and as
cended to the first floor, tbey found that
dinner was laid on the table, for the evening
was now far advanced. When they were
ready the frugal banquet was also ready,
end the old man seated at the head of the
table with Maisrie en his richt soon crew
eloquent abont the virtues ot the bottle of
claret which he had just opened. Tiie girl,
who did not take any wine, seemed hardly
to hear. She was more thoughtful even
than usual perhaps, indeed, there was
8 trace of sadness in the delicate, pen
sive features. AVben the lresb-colored
servant lass brought in the things and
happened to remain in the room for a second
or two, Maisrie made some pretense of
answering her grandfather; then, whenthcy
were iclt alone again, she relapsed into
silence, aud let him ramble on as he pleased.
And he was in a satisfied aud garrulous
moon. The evening was fine and warm
the open window behind them they hud leit
open. He approved of the lodging-house
cookery; he emphatically praised the claret,
with the conviction of one who knew. Din
ner, in fct, was half way over beiore the
girl, looking up with her beauti ul, clear,
limpid eyes beautilul although thej were
to strauzcly wlstlul ventured to say any
thing. Grandfather," she asked, with obvious
hesitation, "did did Lord Musjelbnreh
give yeu something toward the publication
of that book?"
"Why, yes, yes, yes, certainly," the old
man said, with mncb cheerfulness. "Cer
tainlv. Something substantial, too. Why
not?"
The hot blood was in her face again and
her eyes downcast.
"Grandfather," she said, in the same low
voice, "when will you set about writing
that book?"
"Ah well," he made answer, evasively,
but with perfect good humor, "it is a matter
to be thought over. Indeed, I heard in
Sew York of a similar volume being cot
together; but I may be first in the field
alter all. There is no immediate hurry.
A thing of that kind must be thought over
and considered. And indeed, my dear, I
cannot go back to America at present; for
my first and foremost intention is that you
should begin to learn something ot your
native oountry. You must become familiar
with the hills and the moorlands, with the
roaring-mountain torrents, and the lonely
islands amid the gray seas. For of what
account it the accident 67 your birth?
Omaha cannot claim vou. There is Scotch
blood in your veins, Maisrie the oldest in
the laud; and you must see Dunfermline
town, where the King sate 'drinking the
blood-red wine;' and you must see Stirling
Castle, and Edinburgh, and Holyrood, and
Melrose Abbey. Nebraska has no claim
over you you, a Bethune of Balloray.
And you have some Highland bleod
in your veins too, my dear; for if
the Grants who intermarried with the
Bethunes were not of the Northern Grants
whose proud motto is 'Stand fast, Craigella
cbie!' none the less is Craig-Royston wild
and Highland enough, as I hope to show
you some day. And Lowland or Highland,
Maisrie, yeu must wear the snood when you
go North; a young Scotch lass shonld wear
the snood; yes, yes, the bit of blue ribbon
will look well in your hair. Melrose," he
rambled on, as he filled his glass again,
"and Maxwellton Braes; Yarrow's Banks;
and fair Kirfcconnel Lea: a storied country:
romance, pathos, tragic and deathless musio
conjured up at every footstep. Instead of
the St. Lawrence, you shall have the mur
mur of the Tweed: instead oLBroeklyn the
song-haunted shores of Colonsay 1 But there
is one place that with my will you shall
never visit no, not while thereare strangers
and aliens there. You may wander all over
Scotland north, south, east and west but
never, never while I am alive, must you ask
to see 'the bonny mill-dams o Balloray."
She knew what he meant; she did not
speak. But presently perhaps to draw
away his thoughts from that terrible law
suit which had had such disastrous conse
quences for him and his she said
"I hope, grandfather, you won't think oi
remaining in this country on my account.
Perhaps it is better to read about those
beautiful places, and to dream about them,
than to see them you remember 'Yarrow
Uuvisited.'i And indeed, grandfather, it
you are collecting materials for that book,
why should we not go back at once? It
would be dreadful ir if the other volume
were to come out first and you indebted to
Lord Musselburgh or any one else; but if
yours were written and published if you
could show them you had done what you
undertook to do then it would be all per
fectly right For you know, grandfather,"
she continned, in a gently persuasive and
winning voice, "no one could do it as
well as you! w no else has such a
knowledge of Scotland and Scottish litera
ture, or such a sympathy with" Scottish
music and poetry? And then your personal
acqaintancrs with many of those writers
who used to welcome you as one of them
selves who else could have that? You
could do it better than any one, grandfather;
and you have always said you would like
to do something for the sake of Scotland;
and here is the very thing ready to your
hand. Some other time, grandfather," she
pleaded, with those beautiful clear eyes
tnrned beseechingly upon him, "some other
time you will take me to all those beautiful
places. It is not as if I bad come back
home; I have hardly ever had a home any
where; I am as well content in Montreal or
Toronto as anywhere else. And then you
could get all the assistance you might need
over there you could go to your various
friends in the newspaper offices, and they
would give you information."
"Yes, yes; well, well," he said, peevishly,
"I am not a literary hack, to be driven,
Maisrie. I must have my own time. I
made no promise. There, now, get me my
pipe; and bring your violin; and play some
ol those Scotch airs. Yes, yes; you can get
at the feeling of them; and that comes to
you through your blood. Maisrie no matter
where you happen to be born."
Twilight has fallen. At the open window,
with a long clay pipe, as yet unlit, in his
fingers, old George Bethune sate and stared
out into the semi-darkness, where all was
quiet now, for the carriages from the neigh
boring mews had long been driven away to
dinner parties and operas and theaters. And
in the silence, in the dusky part of the room,
there arose a low sound, a tender breathing
sound of most exquisite pathos, that seemed
to say, as well as any instrument might say:
I'm wearin' awa'. Jean,
Like snaw-wreaths in thaw, Jean,
I'm weann' aw a'.
To the land ' the leal:
There's nae sorrow there, Jean,
There's neither cauld nor care, Jean,
The day's aye fair
In the land o' the leaL
Most tenderly she played, and slowly; and
with an abselute simplicity of tone.
"There's Scotch blood in your veins,
Maisrie Scotch blood," he said, approach
ingly, as the low vibrating notes ceased.
And then again in the darkness another
plaintive wail arose It was the Flowers o'
the Forest this time and here the old man
joined in, singing in a sort of undertone,
and with a sutucient sympathetic voice:
I've heard the liltin, at our yowe-milkln'.
Lasses a-liltln. before the dawn o' day:
But now there's a moanin' on Ilka green
loania ,
The Flowers o' the Forest are a'wedo away.
Owftwt
We hear nae malr liltin' at our yowe-milkln'.
Women and bairns are dowie and wae;
Sigbin' and moanin', on ilka green loanln
The Flowers o' the Forest arc a' wedo away.
"Yes, yes," he said, as he rose and came
away from the window, "it is the Scotch
blood that tincles, it is the Scotch heart
that throbs. 'Yestreen, when to the tremb
ling strings, the dance gaed through the
lichted ha' ' Who but a Scotchman could
have written that? Well, new, Maisrie,
we'll have tbe gas; 'and you can get out the
spirits; and we'll try some of the livelier
airs. There's plenty or them, too, as befits
a daring and energetic people a nation of
fighters. They were not always bewailing
their losses in 'the field." And therewith
the old man, pacing up and down before the
empty fire place, began to sing, with up
right head and gallant voice
Loudon's bonnle woods and braes,
I maun leave them a', lassie;
Wha can thole when Britain's faes
Would gie Britons law. lassie?
Wha would sbnn tbe held o' danger?
Wha to fame would live a stranger?
Now when freedom bids avenge ber,
Wha would shun her ca', lassie?
Maisrie Bethune had laid aside ber violin;
but she did not light the gas. She stood
there in the semi-darkness in tbe middle of
the room, timidly regarding ber grand
father, aud yet apparently afraid to speak.
At last she managed to say
"Grandfather1 you will not be angry ?"
"What's this, now?" he said, wheeling
round and staring at her, for the peculiarity
ot ber tone had caught his ear.
"Grandfather," she continued, in almost
piteous embarrassment. "I I wish to say
something to you I have been thinking
about it for a long time back and yet
afraid you mightn't understand you might
be angry "
"Well, well, what is it?" he said, impa
tintly. "What are you dissatisfied with?
I don't see that you've much to complain
ol, or I either. We don't live a life of
grandeur; nor is there much excitement
about it; but it is fairly comfortable. I
consider we are very well off."
"We are too well off, grandfather," she
said, sadly.
Ho started at this, and stared at her
again.
"What do you mean?"
"Grandfather," she said, in the same pa
thetic voice, "don't you see that I am no
longer a child? I am a wsman. And I
am doing nothing. Why did you give me
so careful an education if I am not to use
it? I wish to earn something d I wish to
keep you and me, grandfather"
The stammering sentences ceased; he re
plied slowly, and perhaps a trifle coldly.
"Whydid I have you carefully educated?
Well. I should "have thought you might
have guessed might have understood. But
I will tell you. I have given you what edu
cation was possible in our circumstances in
order to fit you for the station which some
day vou may be called upon to fill. And it
not if it is fated that injustice and iniquity
are to be in our case perpetual at all events
you must be worthy of the name you bear.
But it was not as an implement of trade,"
he continued, more warmly, "that I gave
you such education as was possible in our
wandering lives. What do you want to do?
Teach music? And you would use your
trained hand and ear and your trained
soul, which is of more importance still to
drum mechanical rudiments into the brats
of some bourgeois household? A fit em
ployment for a Bethune of Balloray!"
She seemed bewildered and agonized.
"Grandfather, I must speak? I must
speakl Yon may be angry or not but J
but I am no longer a child lean see how
we are situated and if it is pride 'that
causes me to speak, remember who it is that
has taught me to think of our name.
Grandfather, let us begin a new lifel I can
work I am old enouch.to woik I would
slave my fingers to the bone for youl Grand
father, why shonld you accept assistance
from any one? from Lord Musselburgh or
any one? No, I do not blame you I have
always thought that everything you did was
right and kind and good; but I cannot be
a child any longer I must say what I
think and feel. Grandfather"
But here the incoherent appeal broke
down; she fell on her knees before him and
clasped her hands over her face; and in the
dark the old man stern and immovable
could hear tbe sound of ber violent sobbing.
"I will work oh, I will work night and
day, grandfather," she continued, wildly,
"if only yon take my maney and not from
anyoneelsel I will coon the stage I will
turn dressmaker I will go anywhere or do
anything and work hard and bard if only
you will consentl There would not be so
much sacrifice, grandfather a little, not
much and don't you think we should be
all the happier? I have spoken at last,
grandfather you will (orgive mel I could
not keep silent any longer. It has been
weighing on my heart and now now you
are going to say yes, grandfather and to
morrow to-morrow we becin differently.
We are so mnch alone let us live for each
other let us be independent of every onel
Now you are going to say yes. grandfather
and indeed, indeed I will work for both ot
us, oh, so gladlv! "
"Have you finished?" he asked.
She rose, and would have seized his hand
to enforce her appeal, but he withdrew a
step, and motioned her to be seated.
"I am glad of this opportunity," he said,
in a formal and measured fashion. "You
say you have become a woman; and it is
natural you should begin and think for
yourself; hitherto I have treated you as a
child, and you have obeyed and believed
implicitly." As for your immediate wish, I
may say at once that is impossible. There
is no k'ind of work for which you are fitted
even if I were prepared to live on your
earnings, which I am not. The stagel
What could you do on the stage? Do you
think an actress is made at a moment's
notice? Or a dressmaker either? How
could you turn dressmaker to-morrow?
because you can nem nanaKercnieisf &nu
as for making use of your education, do you
know of the thousands of girls whose
French and Italian and music are as good
as yours, and who can barely gain their
food by teaching? "
He altered his tone; aud spoke more
proudly.
"But what I say is this, that you do not
understand.you have not yet understood, my
position. SVhen George Bethune conde
scends to accept assistance, as you call it, he
receives no favor, he confers an honor. I
know my rights, and stand on them; yes,
and I know my wrongs and how trifling
the compensations ever likely to he set
against them. You spoke of Lord Mussel
burgh; but Lord Musselburgh a mush
room peer the representative of a family
dragged from nothingness by James VJ.
Lord Musselburgh knew better than you
well he knew that he was honoring bim-
selt in receiving into his house a Bethune
of Balloray. And as for his granting me
assistance, that was his privilege, his op
portunity, his duty. Should not I have
done the like, and gladly, if our positions
had been reversed? Noblesse oblige. I
belong to his order and to a family older
by centnries than his. If there was a lavor
con. erred to-day at Musselbrough House, it
was net on my shoulders that it fell."
He spoke haughtily, and yet without
anger; and there was a ring of sincerity in
his tones that could not be mistaken. The
girl sat silent and unabashed.
"No," said he, in the same proud fashion;
"during all my troubles, and they have been
more numerous than you know or need ever
know, I have never cowered, or whimpered,
or abased myself before any living being. I
have held my head up. My conscience is
clear toward all men. 'Standfast, Craig-Boy-stonl'
it has been with me and shall bel"
He went to the window and shut it.
"Come, light the gas, Maisrie; and let us
talk about something use. What I say is
this, that if anyone, recognizing the "in
justice thatland mine have suffered, should
feel it due to himseli, due to humanity, to
make some reparation, why, that is as be
tween man and man that ought to be con
sidered his privilege; and I take no shame.
I ask for no compassion. The years that I
can hope for now must be few; but they
shall be as those that have cone before. I
abase myself before no one. I hold my
head erect. I look the world in the face;
and ask which of us has the greater ouse
to complain ot tbe other, btand fast,
Craig-Bsystonl' that has been my motto;
and so. thank God, it shall be the end!"
Maisrie lit the gas, and attended to her
grandfather's other wants in a mechanical
sort of way. But she did not take up the
violin again. There was a strangely absent
look on the pale and beautiful and pensive
face.
To be continued next Sunday.'
HYPNOTIZING A HEN.
A Fowl Who Had No Olnternal Yearning
Dlnde lo Sit Successfully.
London Bpeetator.
Within the last month I have made an
interesting experiment with a fowl. Some
choice eggs being sent me for hatohing pur
poses (having no hen at that time broody
and no incubator), I determined to set one
of my hens on these eggs and keep her there
by force of mesmeric power. The first day
I placed her on the eggs it took me half an
hour to bring her into a hypnotic condition,
but each successive day, after having
roused her to drink and eat, I was able to
soothe ber to drowsy placidity in much less
time; also, there were days, for which I can
give no reason, when I had to go to her
more than once in the day, she being in a
restless, excited state, trying to get off tbe
nest.
The result has been, much lo my own as
tonishment, that four out of seven of these
eegs have hatched, and are healthy, happy
little chickens. At night I can still in
fluence their mother to her maternal dnties,
but in the daytime she takes no notice of
them.
WINKS DIDN'T COUNT.
A Gallant Guardian FInda Mew Man With
n Thick Skull at tbe Bar.
New York Tribune.
"Well, that's the woorst I iver saw." said
Policeman Double X, as be stood mourn
fully twirling his club on the corner of a
Harlem street at 2 o'clock one chilly morn
ing last week. s
"What's the matter, officer?" asked a
sympathizing and curious newspaper man.
"Matter enough. Ye see, there's a new
man at the saloon at the corner beyant, and
not knowin him well I to't I'd hit him easy
like lor tbe lurst toime. So I dropped in .it
the family entrance and sez I to him, ffindly
like, ye know, 'Could ou give me a drink
av wather?' sez I, winkin' mildly betimes.
'Ay coorse I will,' sez he, handin' me a
glass trough the growler hole. An' phwat
do you tink? It wus a glass of water. Be
gorra, phwat some men don't know would
blosht a rock."
Kenliiu.
rwarnxx fob tsx dispatch.
Ere years of mine were twenty-one
I fancied that when true lovo came
My soul would shiver like a scroll
Of parchment in a mighty name.
When came my spirit's rientf ul queen
Before her dark, Medea brow,
Before her sovereign power my heart,
Itald myself. In awe would bow
Knowing no life but when her eyes
Gloomed fearful splendor on mv sight;
En-wing no jny but when her smile
Fell, star-Ukt, on my earthly night t
At forty-eight, or so, love's eyes '
Have taken on a violet hoe;
Its cheeks some sunny freckles show
It wears a modish high-heeled shoe.
Its brow Is neither wide nor hleb.
It does not awe me with its glance;
It has no views on woman's sphere.
No noble theories to advance
Bnt biscnlts it has molded cheer
Tbe fainting soul to raptnres new.
It soup's inspired 1 Its salads heal
Love's drrams werefaltel love's self is trust
. Eva Wilueb McaLAssox.
CLARA BELLE'S CHAT.
A Good Lady of Seventy who is as
Gay as Girls in Their Teens.
THE ROMANCE OP A SHOESTRING.
Beauties of the Future Hay Perfume Them
selves Hjpodermically.
AS ACTEESS' FAEEWELL TO A BABI
rcoBKisroiTDEircz or TUB DISr.i.TCn.1
New Yoke, July 5.
Tall tbe 6 o'clock
teas in a certain up
town mansion last
winter the central
figure was a silver
haired, soft-voiced,
erect, graceful wom
an, who will never
again pass her threescore-
years-and - ten
birthday. Her blue
eyes, scarcely
dimmed by time,
sparkled with vary
ing expression, her
low laughter rippled
as unrestrainedly as
a girl's; indeed, she
was the loveliest old
girl in all this big
city, and held scores
of hearts, both young
and old, iu a silken
leash of admiration and affection.
It was pleasant to hear her discourse of
the ancient social regime. She knew all the
Yons and the Vans and could trace their
lineage to the bluest of blue blood across
the ocean. When asked about her own de
scent the merriest smile you ever saw
brought a dimple into each wrinkled cheek
as she carried her line pump into the royal
iv
A Pretty Street Incident.
house of England, and showed an ancient
ring of curious workmanship, on which a
coat of arms was traced in precious stones.
The smile was meant to convey her repub
lican indifference to the honor, but some
tones of her sweet old voice betokened a lin
gering pride of pedigree.
THE TOTTJTG OLD LADY'S SECRET.
On the first of our hot Jnne days there
was a bustling exodus of the sweet old
princess and her friends a bevy of bloom
ing maidens, some of whom addressed her
as "Grandmamma," some as "Auntie," and
others by the more formal "Madam."
Every summer she takes a company of buds
and bndettes expected to open in the tall
to her own spacious aud well appointed
home in her native hills. It is considered a
most lucky chance for the young girl who is
invited to be one of these Bummer guests,
for not only is a certaiu last polishing off of
a society debutante expected by it, but a
glorious good time under tbe genial though
strict, tbe lovable but uncompromising
chaperonage of this wonderful voung old
lady. When asked by a society matron for
the secret of growing old gracefully, she
quickly responded:
"I think you have it my dear, it is to be
young gracefully.
A pretty and stylish girl was tripping
down Broadway with a well-filled shawl
strap, a bnnch of flowers, a magazine, and
the ubiquitous pocket book in her hand,
when she discovered that the silken lacing
of her shoe was untied and dragging two
long ends at every step. She stopped,
surveyed the untidy tie with a perplexed
frown, went on a step or two, and placed
her foot on tbe bottom stair of a flight, with
tbe evident intention of bringing its dainty
covering to the accustomed order. But her
bands were inconveniently full, and she
wore a perfectly fitting bodice and well,
she didn't do it, but stood still and con
sidered. A BIO HANDSOME FELLOW'S CHANCE.
A big, handsome fellow in a workman's
dress, with a kit of tools on his shoulder,
came whistling down the street, his keen
eyes taking in all that was going on in the
moving throng, and falling presently on the
young girl. He deposited his tools on the
pavement, kuelc and without a word deftly
tied the inconsiderate lacing. Then, still
on his knees, he lifted his straw hat and
said:
"That shoestring hadn't any excuse to
lose its grip.
The girl blushed and smiled, and made a
movement toward her pocketbook as the
young fellow rose and shouldered his kit.
He saw it, and, waving his hand with the
air of a prince, cast ajglance at her bunch of
flowers.
"I cannot give you a rose, you know,"
said the girl, blushing more deeply, "but I
will give you pansies pansies for thoughts,
you know," and she drew a cluster from her
corsage and handed them to him.
A big brown fist clutched the delicate
blossoms, two pairs of young eyes looked in
tently at each other for an instant, and then
tbe workman marched on to bis daily task,
but he didn't resume his merry whistle. The
girl kept her position, with ber foot on the
step, for a moment, looking after the hand
some fellow with a sort of it-might-have-been
yearning in her eyes. Then she tripped
away, and that was the end of a pretty
incident.
GOODBTTO BABY.
An actress is apt to be an emotional
creature.and no mistake. It was a soubrette,
with only smiles and sauciuess on the stage,
who told me about the goodby which she
had bidden to her juvenile brother. She
had come to America for a probable stay of
several years. I quote her verbatim, and
70a can see how heartily she spoke.
"I tried to pretend I didn't care much,"
she said. "It helps one to pretend that
way. I talked to mother and played with
tbe other children, but my eves could not
leave Beanie's yellow hair. The time came
to go, and, kneeling on the carpet, I called
the child to me. His blue eyes darkened
gravely. How tbe beauty of a child one
loves goes through one's heart like paint
"Listen, dear," I said, "don't be fright
ened, sweetheart, because sister looks so
serious. It's nothing. very dreadfuL Tell
me, dear, whom do you love?"
"Mama and papa and" looking guiltily
at the brothers playing about the floor
"and sister."
"I put my head down on the child's
shoulder and cried. At once Bennie set up
a wild howl of distress, dear little one, with
out an idea in his baby brain why he shonld
orv. I made snch a failure of mv goodby
to'him thtf when he was quieted I hardly
dared spea.C to him again.
A .B AAA TT XtXIU A J, AJAO A.
In tbe end I put out my hand. ''Shake
IWwW w ( B
hands, old fellow. Be good to mamma
when I am away and remember me. Ah,
little onel Try to understand it I am go
ing away, dear. When I come back you
will be a big boy. You will have forgotten
me. It's very hard to think of, dear, that's
why I cry." I raised the baby lips, the
bright curls, the pretty throat with its warm
creases, the wee pink hands that were sticky
with jam, and the tiny boots that covered
his restless feet, and then because he fretted
to get at the new toy I had brought him,
let him go let him go as if forever and
bolted.
"There is something terrible In the pain
of the love one gives a child. I can express
it so poorlyl One can never bring knowl
edge of it into the baby eyes. One dare not
hold the little form too closely even, or the
dear life is crushed out. "Goodby," called
Bennie, prompted by mamma, and "Good
by" I answered, looking up to see him
hanging over the railings, his toes peeping
between the banisters, his toss of hair
brightened by the light lrom the stained
window above, and tbe dear little lace
aglow with laughter. Dear little facel
Shall I ever sec it again ?"
And that was from an actress of jollity,
and she wasn't consciously trying her emo
tional powers on mc.
POSSIBILITIES OP THE AGE.
This is a wonderful age in which we live.
But the coming one will be still more amaz
ing The Eiffel Tower is but a walking
stick compared to what we shall have in the
coming century, and Edison's phonograph
will ere long become trite and commonplace
beside the newer triumphs which science
has in store for us. You are doubtless
aware that, scientifically considered, a bit
of musk or ambergris is quite as persistent,
solid and lasting as a mass of granite. A
thousand years have no appreciable effect
upon it It continues to give off its mole
cules with the same vigor and strength. A
single drop of attar of roses will perfume a
hogshead of water.
And you no doubt know what a hypoder
mic syringe is, especially if yon are subject
to neuralgic attacks. Well, for those who
don't know, let me explain that it is simply
a tinv syringe with a needle-like nozzle,
which the operator merelv thrusts under the
skin, and then presses the button, so to ex
press its contents. Nature does all the rest
It morphine happens to be in the tiny
syringe, nature takes up the drop of quiet
ing and benumbing fluid by means of her
absorbents, and transfers it to the mouths
of the countless veins, hair-like in fineness,
which in turn bear it along until they ponr
it mixed with the stream of venous blood
into the furnace of the lungs. There tbe
intense heat volatilizes it, and it steams
forth from the mouth with every fall of the
chest.
THE APPLICATION OP A PBINCIPLE.
Well, what of it, you say? Now. sup
posing instead of giving the absorbents this
drop of morphine, you substituted a drop of
bergamot, or violet, or rose, can't you see
that the lnng furnace of that person would
send out perfumed breath. Bnt more than
that, these wonderful absorbents would
carry that infinitesimal enpply of perfume
to the very tips of the fingers. The hands
and the face, in fact the whole body, would
exhale a deliciously faint suspicion of rose
or violet In other words, by means of the
hypodermic syringe, it is tbe simplest thing
in the world for a woman to send her favor
ite perfume literally to the very core of her
heart. Every word she speaks, every mo
tion she makes, nature will give back this
delightful odor which the tiny hypodermic
set afloat nnder her skin. The coming
woman will be perfumed through and
through.
Invitations to dinner will contain an ad
ditional word printed in the corner of the
card, in this way: (Violet) or (Bose) or
(Heliotrope). This will be necessary in
order to avoid the presence of several ladies
ail exhaling the same perfume in a conver
sation. Hence it will not be unusual in
enumerating a woman's points of beauty to
formulate them in this manner: "Dashing
blonde, tall and Diana-like in her motions,
skin ofexquisite texture, hands and feet of
very asistocratic shape, teeth and hair per
fection; exhales a most delicate rose." It
will be found necessary to introduce a new
expression into the language to correspond
to "sweet tooth," to wit, "sweet nose." The
daily journals will from time to time con
tain such paragraphs as this: "A Sweet
Nose Gets him Into Trouble. Van Winkle
Treekle, commonly known as "Xweetie
Treekle,' was discharged lrom a clerkship
in the postoffice last week. His loudness
for rose breaths led him to make conversa
tion whenever a lady exhaling that perfume
made" her appearance at his window. Al
though repeatedly warned, Treekle was un
able to wean himself lrom the indulgence.
Clara Belle.
JENNY LIND'3 CRADLE BONO.
How It Softened n Bitter Uival In Queen
Victoria's Presence.
Somewhere in the forties Grisi and Jenny
Lind were singing in different places in
London. Great was the rivalry between
them. Finally Queen Yictoris, deeming it
a shame that such gifted women should be
separated by a mean, unworthy jealousy,
requested both to appear at a court concert.
Jenny Lind was the younger, and it was
arranged that she should sing first. With
perfect confidence in her powers she stepped
forward to begin. Chancing to glance at
Grisi she saw the Southern woman's malig
nant gaze fixed on her. The fierce look
almost paralyzed her. Her courage left her,
her voice trembled, everything grew black
before her and she almost fell. By the
greatest exertion of her will, however, she
managed to finish her air. A painful
silence followed its conclusion a silence
that told her of ber failure. She caught a
triumphant expression on Grisi's face.
Suddenly a soft voice that seemed to come
from heaven whispered to her: "Sing one
of your old songs in your nativelanguage."
She caught at the thought like an inspira
tion. She stepped up to ask him to rise
and took tbe vacant seat Softly her fin
gers wandered over the keys in a loving
prelude, then she sang. It was a little
prayer which she had loved as a child; it
belonged to her mother's repertory. She
hadn't sung it for years. As she s.tng she
was no longer in the presence of royalty,
but singing to loving friends in her father
land. No one present understood one word of
the "prayer." Softly at first the plaintive
notes floated on the air, swelling louder
and richer every moment The singer
seemed to throw her whole soul in the
weird, thrilling, plaintive "prayer." Grad
ually the song died away and ended in a
sob. After a moment with the impulsive
ness of a child of the tropics, Grisi crossed
to Jenny Lind's side, placed her arm about
her and kissed her warmly, utterly regard
less of the admiring audience.
HUNTINGTON AND HIS CLERK.
The Millionaire Takes 3111k While Hi Em
ploye Revels la Champagne.
Kew York Press.
A large, elderly and fine looking man
with a black silk cap on his head entered
the restaurant on the top floor ot the Mills
building a few days ago, and seating him
self in a quiet corner ordered a plate of cold
chicken, some bread and butter and a class
of milk. This was his midday luncheon,
and he seemed to enjoy it
At another table, a few feet away, sat a
young man dressed with a scrupulous regard
for the latest fashions. He was enjoying a
much more elaborate meal than his elderly
neighbor. Little Neck clams, spring lamb
with" green peas, lobster salad, a pint of
champagne and a choice Perfecto were
necessary to his personal comfort, and he
disposed of them all with a nonchalance that
bespoke familiarity with that style of living.
And there certainly was nothing out of the
way in bis manner of indulging his ap
petite. He paid for what be got with money
honestly earned.
He holds a responsible clerkship in C. P.
Huntington's employ, and Jfr. Huntington
is known to pay good salaries to good men.
The elderly man who' ate the cold chicken
and drank the glass ot xuiuc was C'oMs P.
Huntington.
TEACHING- THE WOKD.
Work of the Sunday School Com
pared With That of Mothers.
A CRITICISM OP MODERN METHODS.
Original Ideas of Bobert Bailees
LudTTi flecker Forgotten.
and
LESS0H8 OP THK LAST CONVENTION
rWBXTTRff FOB THE DISPATCH. !
It is hardly a hundred years since Sunday
schools were organized in this country.
They were first introduced in New York in
the early part of the century, though Penn
sylvania claims to have the credit of origi
nating the scheme as early as 1739, thus
anticipating Bobert Baikes by little less
than half a century. If the claim that
Ludwig Hecker, of Pennsylvania, started
the first Sunday school, is well substan
tiated, then the Sunday school people in
the interest of truth should give him due
credit, whereas Bobert Baikes now eyery
where, and by everybody, receives the
honor and glory of the whole Sunday
school machine, as Prances Willard de
scribes it
It seems odd to read that Sunday schools
were at first as vindictively and bitterly op
posed by the good people of that early day
as is the opening of libraries and galleries
of art and other schools of to-day. The
gathering of tbe poor, ragged and neglected
children of a neighborhood into comfort
able rooms where they were taught to be de
cent, respectable and intelligent was
deemed to be a dreadful
DESECEATION OT TIIE SABBATH DAT.
It was thought by even the clergy and
others of the "unco guid" to be a
lesser evil to have the streets and
lanes filled with tbe miserable prisoners
of poverty engaged in mischief of all sorts,
playing marbles with the usual fighting and
swearing accompaniments, than to profane
the Sabbath Day by teaching them to read
and write in school'. The same class of
Pharisees to-day would shut up the parks,
the conservatories and the libraries, and
compel everybody to keep (he Sabbath as
they think proper and right But their
game is a losing one, as was the strenuous
opposition to the Sunday school in the early
part of the century.
The conservative class which opposes
progress fights all change, but, innovations
if, in accordance with tbe spirit oi the
age bear down all opposition with the
direct force of a cyclone when the time for
action comes. The United Presbyterians
fought against the organ as a desecration oi
God's house; but the organ has won. Ten
years ago the revision of Calvin's creed
would have been st down as unnecessary
and absurd; now not only is revision ac
cepted by the majority, but the abolition of
Calvin's iron-bound institutes may well be
expected to follow.
DOES THE WORK OF MOTHERS.
The Snnday school has grown to immense
proportions. Wherever there is a church
there must be a Sunday school to feed it to
work for it, to furnish members to sustain it
In old times parents instructed their chil
dren in the faith of their fathers, and im
planted their own strength of religious con
viction in their hearts and minds. Like wax
to receive like marble to retain were these
impressions received at tbe fireside. Men
and women were trained as for martyrdom
by the teaching of their mothers, find were
prepared to do battle for their religion at
the "loss of livings, lands and life."
Wherever they went they were eager and
zealous to propagate and defend their ideas
as handed down to them by parents and
family training.
But now that this work has been dele
gated to the Sunday schools, it is a question
to know whether it is as well done as when
the ever busy mother spent an hour or two
on Sunday afternoon in teaching her chil
dren the catechism and the whole duty of
man.
CLAIMS OP THE SUNDAr SCHOOL.
Of course, the answer is prompt on the
part of the Sunday school. Its advocates
think tbe international lessons, as prepared
by a committee of men prominent in the
church and as taught by volunteer young
girls, or men and women urged into the
work by flattery of their powers, or because
it impresses them with a distinction for
goodness beyond the common, are better
than were home teaching. The idea is that
parents neglect the sacred duty of teaching
their children to walk in the ways of pleas
antness and the paths of peace, and that this
must be done by the Sunday school teacher
so as to be well done.
It will, however, occur to some thinking
Eeople that the girl jnst out ot school, with
er head full ot notions, or the young stu
dent, green with the mold of the theological
seminary, are hardly fitter instructors for
children than the intelligent mother, who
can hardly sleep at night for thought of the
material and eternal interests of her chil
dren. One hundred years ago to-day there
were no Sunday schools in Pittsburg. The
foundations of characters were laid in the
homes. The mothers furnished the keynote
for their children's lives, and who will be
found to say that their sons and daughters
were not as noble, as upright, as honorable
as the citizens of to-day, who have been
trained in Sunday schools.
A QUESTIOH AS TO THE METHODS.
'As we remember Sunday school it was a
morning and afternoon affair where, apart
from praying and singing, the chief con
cern was as to who could repeat the most
verses of Scripture and furnish the most
pennies for the heathen. We remember
children upon whom this lesson ot giving
every cent out of their little savings banks
to the heathen was so deeply impressed that
they felt as if they were committing a deadly
sin to buy "taffy" for their own delectation.
The constant struggle between the heathen
and themselves made them unhappy. The
old rule of a tenth of the income for tithes
was not preached into them, bnt they were
constantly harangued upon their duty to
give up their a Jl every atom oi their
slender wealth.
Notwithstanding the big figures given
out last week by tbe International Assem
bly as to the number of Sunday schools,
scholars and teachers, the fact remains that
the class of children for whom the Snnday
school was designed is not to be found
within its fold. Tbe streets and lanes, the
back alleys and the slums are still crowded
with the poor, ragged, miserable children,
whose morals and manners were to be im
proved by Sunday teaching.
THE OBIGINAIi IDEA FOBGOTTEK.
The pupils of the present day schools are
not, in the main, the children of the very
poor, but rather those of the wealthy, the
well-to-do, the respectable and moral
church-goers. The shabby clothes and for
lorn appearance of the poorer children
would make a sorry contrast with the
pretty hats and empire dresses, the chic
suits of the boys and girls who now monop
olize the nursery of the sanctuary. The
idea of Bobert Baikes was to reach the
masses, to lift up the children of poverty
into tbe light of Intelligence, but if he
knows bow things are going on in this old
world to-day he will know that
while there are 112,897 Sunday schools
1,178,301 teachers and 9,149,997 scholars,
the masses are not reached after all as he
intended, and that 10,000,000 children are
outside the pale, mainly by reason of their
povertr. If people can be sad in heaven
these figures and what they tell will give
bim a sore heart and a sorrowing soul.
The international assembly, as we saw it,
gave to women a solid chunk of instruction.
Perhaps more than three-fourths of the
Sunday school workers on this continent are
women, and yet all of the offices of the or
ganization have been
GOBBLED BX MEW.
Every position of honor was held by
nan. and moreover, the new election the
another day extended the fame monopoly.
Every member of the International Lessons
Committee is a man. Men control the
finances, represent the whole business, and
then generally permit women to perhaps
talk a little aud laboriously work for all
that is in them. The women of the churches
in this city set up dinners for all that con
vention, waited upon tables, cooked and
slaved, aud made themselves scullions only
to receive a little supply of "taffy," but no
offices or recognition, save as able workers
under the men.
The dear sisters may be meek and lowly
of heart enough to enjoy being thus "so't
upon," but if we were one ot them there
would be a revolutionary rebel in the ranks.
Playing the menial under such circum
stances would stir a fever in the blood of
self-respecting women, whetheroldoryoung,
if they had not. been rooted and grounded
into submission for centuries.
IT TAUGHT USEFUL LESSONS.
Miss Willard's address was earnest, elo
quent'and impassioned. But few men are
endowed with eloquence as great. It must
have sent a chill to the heart of some of the
delegates to hear a woman speak like unto
a man, but they will get used to it. An
Alabama woman said she had been livimr
in a constant state of surprise ever since she
came to Pittsburg, bnt she will go home
loaded with a lot ot ideas on evolution, and
revolution, and woman's capacity, that will
prove a leaven for her whole neighborhood.
Other Southern women who were present
will do likewise, while the Southern men,
too, have been set a-thinking, and went
home with some of their prejudices consid
erably battered and their notions upset.
Such visits between the sections will do a
power of good in promoting fraternal
feeling. Colored brethren and sisters
were there as delegates colored church
women were associated with the
whites in the preparation of din
ners and serving of tables. This to the Vir
ginians, and Georgians, and Carolinians was
doubtless a shock, but they will survive it,
and be all the better ior'it They may as
well get used-to it here below, as there will
be no white monopoly in the hereafter.
Bessie Bramble.
A TIGHTER OF THE WEST.
Stories ot the Personal Bravery and Prowess
ofSberllTK.il Castle.
New Tork Tribune.
"I think the bravest roan I ever knew,"
said the Colonel, "was one of the worst
His name was Kit Castle, and for some
years he was Sheriff of Uintah county Wy
oming. He started out alone on horseback
once when he was Sheriff to capture two
horse thieves. He was gone for a week,
and people began to think that Kit had got
the worst of a hard fight, when he rode into
town one evening and stalked up to a bar.
" 'Where are your men Kit?' some one
asked with a laugh, thinking they had slipped
him.
"The Sheriff pulled from his belt three
revolvers and laid them down. Then he
went out to his horse and unfastening two
pairs of spurs from, the saddle came back
and threw them jingling and ringing on the
bar connter.
" 'One of them revolvers is mine,' said
Kit slowly. 'All the rest is souvenirs'
'sooveneers,' he prononnced it. That was
all he ever said about the fight
"One evening the Sheriff went into the jail
to see if his prisoners were till right for the
night One of them had gotten out of his
cell and had then released four other
desperadoes. When Kit opened the door
into the jail the men started for bim with a
rush. The sight of tbe five men maddened
him, and be threw the door shut with a loud
clang, locking himself in the room with the
others. Drawing his revolver he leaped at
tbe men, bellowing in his anger. He was too
enraged to shoot them. He wanted to pun
ish them for daring to attack him. His
strength and energy were tremendous, and
ne nnriea tne nve men into one of the Iron
corners. Pushing them and knocking them
about, he beat them over the head and
shoulders and arms with the butt of his re
volver until they screamed at the top of
their voices in their helpless agony.' Then
his teeth shut close together in his great
jaw, he picked them up, one by one, and
pitched them into their cells, securely fast
ening the bolts."
BIGHT AHD TOUCH
Have
as DInch to do With a Smoker's
Plemare as Taste and Smoll.
Mew York Sun. J
Almost all men smoke with their eyes,
though few of them know it It seems to
be commonly thonght that the senses of
taste and smell are those which are most
affected by tobacco, and those which alone
make a man enjoy tobacco, but this is not
correct Of course, a man may taste a
cigar, just as he may taste a piece oi leather
or a piece of wood, bnt, unless he chews.
the taste of tobacco is no more pleasing than
the taste of leather or wood; rather, on the
contrary, it is sickening. Then, men think
they can tell about cigars by their odor, bnt
in reality they tell about them from their
appearance and their feel.
The nerves of touch of the lips are as keen
and sensitive as of any part of the body;
there is no hard cuticle to dull them. The
lips are full of sensitive blood vessels and
sensitive nerves. They curve, arch, straight
en, become hard, are drawn, and conform to
every motion of the mind and to every
thought Host smokers have mobile lips.
The hard-mouthed man seldom becomes a
victim to the smoking habit He may smoke
occasionally because others do, or he may
chew, but he misses one of the greatest en
joyments of a ciear. These blood vessels and
these nerves in the lips are near tbe brain.
The contact of tbe cigar with them goes at
once to the brain. That feeling and the
sight of the smoke are soothing. One ot the
greatest differences between good and poor
cigars is in the wrapper. It is the wrapper
which comes in contact with the lips.
He Wouldn't 8nbcr1be.
pnuTTiirion thh dispatch.
One day one nv tbem canvassers who lest talk
by the Job,
Whose speech, w'en shelled. Is one part corn an'
ntnety-nlne parts cob,
lth his Lull talkln' apparatus pulled out an
workln' bard,
Mth full steam on. high pressure, walked Into
my back yard.
An' he drlr me In a corner, an' there he held
me fast.
An' tried to cet me to subscribe to the Colby
Count Blast;
His tongue wuz greased with Ugbtnln', and he
proved the Blast the best,
Htgh-tonedest journal In the world, ahead of
all the rest.
He flung his flood-gates open wide, as fur as
they would reacb.
An' jest ponred out his cataract an' soaked the
air with speech;
He thought he had me mesmerized; sex he,
"Two dolls, per year
An' five big steel engravin's now jest sign yer
name right here."
An' then I straightened up; sex I. sex I, "It
you've jot throngb.
An' I may be permitted, I will say a word or
two.
Two year ago, come taterln'.I sent that sick
ly sbeet
A poem that I writ myself, that no man ever
beat,
"The poem took me like the cramp; I felt my
eyes were brigbt'nla'
With some grand celestial vision w'ea I
winked they squirted Iightnin'I
I grabbed my pencil, crunched. my teeth, an
turrlbly in earnes' .
I Jest threw off thet poem, red-hot from the
fiery furnace.
"An' I mailed It w'lle twux sizzling to th Colby
County Blast, .,
With a quick delivery postage stamp to mek it
travel fast' .,. .
An your fool editor sent It back. d po-
U you on'y hed" Idees,' said he, an' then
learned how to spell.'
"An' I wouldn't take tbstpapermore'n aplnt of
arsenic pills, . . . .
Hot U 'twux made of aovment bonds and
thousand dollar bills.
Ton tell your editor what I say: don't soften
down a term . ,
I'd give my farm If I wax tharto see the crit
ter squirm." ,,,
B. W, JTosa.
ILL A- BIT INSANE.
History Doesn't Furnish a Character
Thai Hasn't a Blemish.
THE FAULTS OP ADAM AHD H0AH.
Washington's Neglect of a Cold and Jeffer
son's fad Finances.
ALL HAD A 8CEEW LOOSE B01IEWHEES
(warmer tor thx bisfAtch.i
It is asserted by those who pretend to
understand the matter, that there is a point
in every character where serious mental
imperfection if not absolute insanity crops
out On one subject, it is held, all men are
a little off tbe track, and that under certaiu
propitious circumstances this fact stands
out as an unattired verity. These idiosyn
cratic peculiarities mark the men of every
age from the very earliest dawn of intelli
gent history down to these wonderful pro
lific times in which we live.
It is a merciful dispensation of Provi
dence that the possessor of this erratic qual
ity of mind or manner is olten altogether
unconscious of his possessions. Other men
ran see what he is blind to, aud though
Bobert Burns may say:
Wad some power the friftie gie us
To see oursels as liners see us,
it is probably far better that we shonld
sometimes remain in ignorance. Both
friends and enemies look upon us with dis
torted vision. The former magnify onr good
qualities till they are enormously'elongated
and broadened, while the latter minimize them
until they cannot be seen with anything less
powerful than a Lisk telescope. Our proposi
tion is that the majority of men either lack a
balance wheel, or possess very imperfect ones.
Adam Wasn't Balanced.
Adam was the first man, and as he was the
original pattern direct from the great Master
hand one would think he should barn been
perfect, and yet he was lacking In balance ot
character. He did some wonderful things,
among others naming the birds and animals
after God created tbem, and gave other mani
festations of accurate judzmant, but so
weak minded was he that be readily suc
cumbed to the wiles of a weak woman. His
appetite got the best of him. Nearly every
man thinks he would have acted differently,
and yat, placed in tbe same position, there is
every reason to believe wo should all have
longed tor a taste of tbe delicious fruit which
would make one wise. What a fool Adam was,
and what an arrant coward to charge It all
upon a woman. If tbe first man was a moral
failure, is there any wonder that he has inocu
lated bis descendants. Adam's balance wheel,
if he had one. was in very poor condition; very
imperfect indeed.
The next man who stands out embossed more
than his fellows npon the page of history Is
Noah. But Noah was not a Prohibitionist.
As soon as he got out or the ark we find that
he got drunk and disorderly, and ia all proba
bility he would have been arrested at once if
tbe ofilcers of the law had not all Deen
drowned. Here was a prettv piece of business
for an exemplary man to bo encaged in. There
never was a time in tho world's hhtory when
prohibition conld have been so easily
enforced as when the ark rested 04
Mount Ararat, and I fear thero never
will be so grand an opportunity acain. Does is
not seem peculiar that Noah should have taken
liquor with Mm Into tbe ark? It may Just be
possible that he found a skin of wine in the !
mud somewhere as soon as he landed, and the
temptation was too strong far bim. Specula
tion must, however, be necessarily somewbat
wild in this connection. What we have to do
with is the lacLJhat the old man got as drunk
as a lord as socra as he got ashore. From that
time to this the majority of seafaring men lol
low bis example. Noah was a goad man but
his balance-wheel was all askew. Borne of our
modern statesmen, I am told, men who have
covered themselves with glory, have indulged,
and even do indulge. In tbe post-delugun act of
their maritime father.
m
All Had a Screw Xjooae.
The patriarchs of old were all more or less
tinged witb inconsistencies of soma ijfld or
other. One of tbe best proofs of tbe oaihen-
tlcity of the Bible Is the fact that the weak
nesses as well as the virtues of men are re
corded. Jacob was a growler, Moses was a
murderer and disobeyed God. Job. noted for
patience, cursed the day of his birth and ac
cused God of crnelty and oppression. David,
tbe sublime poet, at one time rebelled acalast
tbe Lord and called all men who did not sub
scribe to his idea 'liars." It is trno he
afterward repented and made tbe excuse that
he was "in haste" when he said "all men are
liars." Evnn Elijah doubted and prayed for
death. Jeremiah asked the Lord If be was to be
to Him "as a liar and as waters that fall." This Is
pretty rousth language to use, but if Hebrew
scnolars are right he did use it. Id this synopsis
have we not a pretty picture of great man who
made shipwreck of consistoncyr The case
seems to grow strong on the side of our propo
sition that all men are off the track somewhere.
It almost seems like a sm to speak of tbe Im
mortal George Wasnington in such a connec
tion as this, especially at a time when we have
all been Ulled with patriotism, etc. ia celebrat
ing the grand achievements in which he took
so noble a part. Considering his facilities,
averaging all the circumstances, and welshing
.us cui..uSmeQI m in8 scaiei ot cold common
sense, no greater man ever lived than he. Ho
was a good citizen, a fair farmer, a pretty
smart surveyor and a wonderful com
mander. He was so punctual and precise la
all his movements that it was almost a crime la
blssi-bt for anyone to be five minutes late.
He guided tbe armies of the United States
against the tyrant foe, and brought victory out
ol what tbe world looked npon as inevitable
defeat He steered tbe ship of state through
tbe rocks and snags and quicksands of the
formulative period.
Even Washington Was OfC
And yet George Washington was lacking la
discretion. Impartial history, when the
glamour of military renown shall have become
misty with the passing centuries, will undoubt
edly reveal much that to-day is hidden. Por
onr purpose one point of lack of judgment will
suffice. His death was tbe penalty. Catching
a cold on December 12, 1799, in a rain storm he
took no pains to treat it until be was beyond
tbe reach of medical skill. Said be: "Let it
go as it came." Tbe doctors bled him (not
figuratively or financially, but actually), which,
together with tbe cold, soon carried him off.
He was 63. but he should have lived to SO. Of
coarse he might have done So bad it not been
for tbe doctors and iheir lances, but a little
care on bis part and a little surrender to tbe
better judgment ot Martha at first, and he
would probably bave been spared fur years.
Thomas Jefferson, the author of that im
mortal document which shook the thrones of
Europe and makes tbem tremble to-day, was
not In all respects a man of perfect balance.
Jefferson could twist the lion's tail and tie s
knot in it as well as any man living. He con
ducted the Government along the lines of
rigid simplicity, bnt before he died he
made a pitiable bundle of his own
finances. He went down the western
slope of life worried and troubled abont money
matters. So embanassed did he become that
he was empowered by tbe Legislature to dis
poe of his property by lottery. It Is true the
project was not carried out, but so profligate
was he in bis expenditures at Monticello that
be deemed heroic methods of procedure neces
sary to adjust matters. "Jeffersonian sim
plicity" is a proverb, but his profuse hospi
tality ostentatious or otherwise, showed that
he lacked in his balance wheel. He passed
away in bis Sith year, on the 4th day of July,
lSTl lust 50 years after tbe Declaration of In
dependence, bis lack of Judgment making him
a comparatively poor man.
Mora Modern Great Men.
To disturb the sacred ashes of Abraham
Lincoln with the keen blade of criticism is
probably bad form, but there were people who
thought that his everlasting stories savored
somewhat of ciownlshness at times. Until New
York shall build Grant's monument he ought
to be exempt from criticism, perhaps, but what
a poor financier he was In comparison to his
good qualities as a soldier and President!
Horace Greeley was an exemplification of the
fact we are trying to establish. His foolishly
weak ambition cost him his lite and brought a
shadow across tbe horizon of" its
history. Henry Ward Beecher was
one of the best Americans that
ever breathed. He was a giant pby?lcally,
morally and intellectually. I do not believe be
sinned as charged, but be was Indiscreot He
failed in judgment at a point where a clergy
man should be as sonnd as concrete.
There are respects in which James G. Blaine
might be improved. Grover Cleveland failed
in some things, and even President Harrison
would make more friends if he had little
more ot the saccharine quality about hlo.
Thus we might go on interminably.
I started out to nrave that narf rM n of r.nsr-
acter only existed In the Imagination. If I bare
not substantiated that, I have demonstrated
one thing, viz: it is very easy to pick flaws la
the characters of onr fellow men even wheat '
we cannot find our own.
M. Commix Pabsox.
&