, ..
r-n nrT p -MMIM
fm ..... a xfS?
I B, F. SOHWEIEK,
THE GON8TITUTION-THE DNION-AND THE ENFORCEMENT OF THE UW8.
KrtltT and ITOjr
MIFFLINTOWIS. JUNIATA COUNTY. PENNA.. WEDNESDAY. MARCH 31. 1897.
NO. 1(.
I irvr ir
ll II II
r .... -;
y
CHAPTER XX. (Continued.
Molly's fatal answer, inclosing Stella's
tetter, arrived nt Torresuiuir, aud these
letters Ralph handed to bis brother in
law. That night when Stella went to her
husband's room he handed hex the enve
lope containing the letter and bade he
reud tlleiu.
With trembling 6ngers she opened the
envelope and took thence those two
(iteuiis little letters to John HanningtoO
- letters written in such anguish of soul,
but also in such perfect trust and love.
She tried to read the words, but tbey
danced before her eyes.
"You have read them?" said Aluo'f
voice at last. "You have read them?"
"1 remember what I said." returned
Stella, with difficulty.
Alan's face turned still more pale. "Yet
you tell me that you have not deceived
n.e'f" he said, with shaking voice. "You
loved this man when you married me. I
ay that you made me believe a lie."
Stella looked at him gravely, soberly,
from out those beautiful eye., the tran
quility of which' had always been to him
their greatest charm. Her agitation had
vanished; she was perfectly collected and
uu moved. The Bhock of his uujust judg
ment of her had steadied her trerubliuf
OerveS.
"You are wrong," she said, with curi
ous question. "Now, hear me, Alan; I
must and will speak now. You have read
my letters, it seems a thing that I
should scarcely have expected you to d
but I will forgive you for it If we ar
led thereby to a-fuil explanation: a clear
lug' away "or tbfe cloud -tUTJtf?1arTE
hung about Us. You aeem to think thai
I wrote those letters immediately befoi
I promised to marry you. If you look al
the dutes you will see that they were
written a year before. A year is a long
time in a youug girl's lite, Alan. John
Haunington had indeed won my girlish
iuve, but he had cast me off when ht
found that I was poor; he wrote to uie
trjecung ttie love that he had won.
was pained -humiliated for a time .
even thought that I was heart-broken
But little by little 1 learned that it wa
but so. My fancy had been touched: but
I had never given my whole heart to
Job- llauiiiiigtun. 1 had kept tliat for-abotlirr-
for a worthier man."
"You gave it to me? You loved me ai'
the while? Stellu. my darling "
"Listen," she went ou, inflexibly
"Kver thing must be said now if ever it
is to be said at all. I loved you, 1 say
aud you threw my love back into in)
face. You have distrusted uie insulted
me -been harsher and crueler and coldel
t me tliuu John Uauuiugton himself;
and I have not been able to-beur it, Alan;
I think love will bear anything but in jus
tice to itself disbelief in its existence.
That hurts it, maims it kills it Dually;
here comes a day. hen you look for i'
aud it Is dead."
"Is your love for me dead, then
Stella':" Muuorieff asked.
She had sank back wearily in her chair,
tand he stood before her, with arms cross
ed upon Ins breast, with a gray pallo
about his lipS. - - "
"1 am afraid so."
"You uieau that I have killed it? Lei
me have the whole truth rl want to know
the worst." 'j
Ve have failed to be happy together,
ad I have been of no use to Molly; I can
te no use to her now, for you will not
listen when I plead with you to forgive
her. You are merciless to her as you art
merciless to me. Re merciful now," said
his wife, quickly, "and Set me free."
"Set you free! What do you mean?"
"Let me go out of this house," eh
pleaded. "I-et me leave Torresuiuir. )
will make no scandal, . I will go quietly
and opeuly as if 1 were going for a long
visit somewhere and nobody will know
that I do not mean to come back again."
"Stella, are you mad?"
"Indeed, Indeed. I think It would M
the best way." she said.- "We do nol
love each other. How can wa be happy?'1
"That is not the question," said Alan,
almost harshly. "You have duty to
me. and I have one to you; we cannot b
free from one another. I shall never re
- lease you. Y'ou are my wife."
Then as her whole form seemed to col
lapse before him, as the tension of hei
nerves gave way, he caught her in hll
arms and held her, half fainting, closel;
to his breast.
Stella did not remember (although ab
was afterward told) that she waa carried
up to her room in Alan's arms. She wu
unable to rise fros her bed, however, foi
the next day or two. She felt weak and
broken, as if she had bad a severe illues
Ou the fifth day, the sun shone brightly
iuto her room and inspired her with
wish to get up. She was not able to beat
much light, and her eyes soon grew dim
aud tired: she closed them for a time,
and must have fallen into a quiet doze,
for when she looked up at last, with
sudden start, she found that .he waa not
aloue. Alan had comej softly into th
room, and stood leaning against the win
dow, watching her as she slept.
"I came to see for myself how yon
were.'' "h -aid, with an s of m
barrassmeot. "I hope you are feelinp
tetter?" ' -
"Yes, thank you," said Stella., not dar
(ng to look up. Her color fluctuated
tadly.
"I have if you will allow me a request
to make."
"Yes." she breathed, the brightness
vanishing hastily from her face.
"I should like to ask you," aaid Alan,
"to proniise me if you will to take no
steps without informing me I mean con
cerning the the proposal yon made on
Monday night, Joa will not leay Tor-
resmuir. for instance, without at least
telling me first.'
"No." said Stella, faintly.
"When you ar monger." her husband
went on, "hi can discuss the matter
further, if yon like. Rut you you will
not do anything without consulting me
fou promise?"
"I promise."
"Thank you." It was wonderf J to
hear with what earnestness he sprite.
"Now, I shall feel secure."
"But suppose I break my promise?"
some strange influence prompted Stella
to sny. "You trust no one; do not trust
me."
"I would trust you with my life," he
answered, in a tone of curious intensity.
"My life my honor my all. 1 have writ
ten to to Molly and llanningtoo. 1 have
given them the money they wanted. I
thought ou might like to know."
"And your forgiveness?' said Stella,
quickly.
But to this question she got no answer
CHAPTER XXI.
Mr. and Mrs. Hanuington found the
:heck sent by Alan Moncrieff very ac
ceptable indeed. Most of it went foi
John Hauuiugton'a delectation, it was
true; but Molly got some sea breezes,
and was glad that her husband was in
better temper than he had been for some
time. They came back to town lute in
September, and removed into a small
furnished house which they took for
few mouths. Bertie returned to Loudon
in October, and of course he went to see
his sister; but no confidences passed be
tween them in fact, after a while, Molly,
with tears in her eyes, begged him not
x visit her again John did not like it.
"He is a perfect brute," said Bertie,
recounting this incident to Captain Ruth
erford one evening without any thought
f breech of confidence, for by this time
le was in the habit of pouring out all his
thoughts quite freely to his friend. "I
tvish We had never seen him."
Rutherford did not speak, but he men
tally re-echoed the wish.
"It's impossible for her to be very
happy with him," Bertie went ou, vehe
mently. "Why, he is away from her
mare than half of his time. I don't think
London suits her, either. I wish we
could get her back to Torresuiuir aud
pension him off somehow."
"What's that?" said Rutherford, sud
denly. There was a staitled look lu bis
eyes. Bertie listened. Voices were
heard in the passage, and steps and open
ing doors. Something unexpected bar
evidently happened in the house.
Bertie's landlady now presented herself
with a puzzled face.
"There's a lady wanting to see you,
sir," she said, doubtfully, and, before she
could explain, a wild-looking, wet, be
draggled figure had stumbled rather than
walked iuto the room. Both young men
sprang to their feet with an exclamation
of dismay. For it was Molly who stood
before them, aud who, after a moment's
pause, threw herself Into Bertie's aruir
ud burst out sobbing upon his shoulder.
"I've come to you; I had nowhere else
to go," she pauted. "He's turned me out
turned me out iuto the street!"
"Molly! Not your husband?"
"Yes, my husband," she said, with pas
iouate emphasis, liftiug her head aud
showing her flushed, wet face; "the hus
band for whom I deceived my father and
left my home! Oh, they can't say that I
have not been punished now!"
She bad no hat or bonnet on her head.
and her hair was darkened and- straight
ened by the rain-drops that had fallen
upon it. A great-cloak had been wrapped
around her, but, dropping loosely from
her shoulders. It showed that she was In
evening dress a soft primrose-colored
silk which left her white neck and arms
bare save for some softly clustering lace
and pearl ornament..
"But you have not come like this I Yoo
have uot walked!", cried Bertie.
"Yes; I had no money."
"But I could have paid a cabman at
the door! To think of your walking
through the streets at this time of night
'ike this "
"Oh, It's nothing; I did not mind that,'
laid Molly, wearily. She disengaged he.'
xruis from her brother's neck and sank
into the nearest chair. Then, for the first
:iiue, she became aware of Captain Ruth
erford's presence. But nothing seemed
:o startle her. She looked up at him with
a passionate pleading expression which
struck him dumb. "I can't help it!" ah.
broke out. "You need not condemn met
It is not my fault.1"
fs there nothing that we can do foi
yon?" said Rutherford, In a choked voice.
"If you could only make me useful if
you could send me anywhere or tell me U
do anything for you "
"There's that fellow to be punished!"
Bertie burst out in a fury. "I'll go my
selfI'll telegraph to father he deserves
a thorough horsewhipping."
"Y'ou are only a boy," said Molly, with
a little gasp which was perhaps meant
for a sort of laugh; "and yon cannot do
anything yourself. And it Is not Captain
Rutherford's business. I shall leave
everything to my father. I shall tell him
all. He will know what must be done."
"Shall I telegraph, to him for you?"
said Charlie, quickly.
"Thank yon. Yeadirectly. Wait a
moment. Y'on must not think things
tTorse than they are. I provoked him and
he had taken too much wine." She began
to tremble as she spoke. "I reproached
him with with one or two thing that
be had told me, and be grew very angry;
and then I told him of on wicked, fool-,
ish, mischieToui thing that I had done
I took sou:o letters of his once, and sent
hem away to a person who Oil, I
can't tell it you all, but I acted very
badly, and in my own anger 1 told him
o. it for the first time. You see be had
some right to be angry. He did not know
what he was doing 1 am sure be did not.
for he had never struck me before "
"Struck you? Molly. Molly!"
Aa if involuntarily, she glanced at her
arm. from which the cloak had slipped
down. There was a bruise upon the slen
der wrist. She drew her draperies over
ir, mid held them there while she went on.
"lie did not know; he wss never un
kind in thut way before. But he was
mad with anger aud with what he had
drunk, aud he took me by the shoulders
aud put he out at the door, aud said I
should never darken his bouse again. I
snatched up this cloak as I went through
the outer hall. I believe he meant to
take me in again, for when I bad gone
down the road a little way I heard him
open the door again and call me. But 1
was frightened so frightened that I ran
on and on; and I asked my way of
policeman, and at last I got here."
Charlie Rutherford's face was white
with rage.
"Look," he aald to Bertie, abruptly. "1
am going. Your sister should not sit in
her wet things. Get your landlady to
attend to her. I'll telegraph to you
father In your name."
"Wait, please," said Molly. It was
strange to hear the decision that had
come into her fresh young voice. "Come
here for one minute. Captain Rutherford.
You say you will be my friend?"
"Always."
"Then please go to the telegraph office
and send a message from me, not from
Bertie. .'I have no home now; may I
tome to you tomorrow? That is all that
I want to say in a telegram. I do not
think that my father will refuse to take
me in."
It was not very late, and Captain Ruth
erford was able to telegraph at once.
Then be went to Lady Val's house, and,
happily finding her in, got her promise
to see Molly the first thing iu the morn
'ng. It was a bright face that Lady Val
presented the next morning in Molly's
bed-chamber.
"My dear," she said, putting her arms
round Molly, neck at ouce. "I know yon
don't much like me; but you must put
up with me and let me help you If I can.
Charlie Rutherford came to me last
uight."
Molly resisted for a moment, but wom
anly affection was very sweet to her, and
there was something in Lady Val's face
and manuer which compelled confidence.
She let herself be kissed, and then burst
iuto tears on her visitor's shoulder.
"Don't cry, child," said Lady Val, at
last. "You bad much better go home
and take care of yourself. Or will you
come to me for a few days."
"No, no. You are very good but 1
want so much to go home."
"Very well. Then I will go with you."
"You?" said Molly, liftiug a quivering
face and startled eyes to her interlocu
tor. "You? Why?"
"Because I don't think you are old
enough or wise enough to travel alone,
my dear; and I don't call .even . Bertie a
sufficient protector. Nobody can say a
word against yoo if I am with yon,
Molly."
The eyes of the two women met. There
was a little silence, and then Molly held
out her hand. "I was unjust to you in
my thoughts; forgive me," she said.
"What did yon think of me?"
"Oh. 1 can't tell you I can't."
"I can guess, my dear. You thought
that I wanted to take your husband's
heart from you, Molly; I have prayed
every uight and morning for the last yea"
that he might always love you as you
loved him. I had no stronger wish than
that you two might be happy. Won't
j, i trust me, Molly?"
And Molly, looking iuto Lady Valen
cia's honest eye., said fervently:
. "Indeed I wilL"
(To be continued.)
Education.
Every year witnesses Improvements
both lu the methods aud practice of ed
ucation; yet it may be that lu the mul
tiplicity of the various branches, aud
the neceMaary efforts to master more
complex systems, some of the underly
ing ucessitles of every day life may be
passed over too lightly. Tbat educa
tion consists more In drawing out the
uutrled faculties than lu any amount of
knowledge put Into the uilud aud the
memory bus become almost a truism.
Y'et the actual realization of It lu evry
hour or teacbiug Is not yet au accom
plished fact The truth la that. In every
subject Introduced for the culture of
the young, there Is an under-current of
personal thought and action, most nec
essary to arouse and preserve.' While
this Is kept alive and active, education
is going on; when it becomes lifeless
and torpid, no amount of Instruction,
however well planned and Imparted,
will be real and of value.
A Millionaire's Start lu Life.
A well-known millionaire' arrived at
Johannesburg in the early days of the
mining boom, with no aseets save a tin
of condensed milk and a needle. - He
spread a report that small pox was on
Its way through the country, gave out
that be was a surgeon, and vaccinated
the whole community, with his needle
and condensed milk, at Ave shillings
per operation. It waa not long before
be became a wealthy capitalist
Mental pleasures never cloy; unlike
Ibo-e ot the body t bey are increased
y repetition, approved by reflection,
tnd strengthened by enjoyment.
There are but very few people who
ever wear out. but there are any qian
t.tv of thcrj who rust anil rot out.
It is a low benefit 1 5 Rive one aimo
thing. It Is a high benefit to enable me
to do something 'or myself.
Many a man gioveln in the dust who
baa an arm long enough to reicb the
sky if be would only pnt it ont.
It is not uncommon to - meet people
who have more religion, - and even
morality, than they have common
sense.
Men of very regular habits are not
always the long lived; while they are
wearing ont in one place, they are
rusting out in another.
Good breeding is the result of mnoh
good sene, some good nature, and
little self denial for the sake of others.
The man whose knowledge all comes
from books will not find it the power to
move living men. "
The - stage is a supplement to the
pnlpic, where virtue, according to
Plato's sublime idoa. moves Our love
and affection when made visible to the
ye. -
Aerial Travel.
Prof. S. P. Langloy Is reported as eiy
tng In a recent interview that, having
proved both theoretically and practical
ly that machines can be made to travel
through the air. If be had the time and
money to epend, be believed he could
make oue "on a scale such as would
demonstrate to the world that a large
paesenger-carrying flying machine can
be a commercial aa well as a scientific
success,"
Dsaier from Wall Paper.
It waa formerly supposed that th.
reason why wall papers containing ar
senic were dangerous to health was be
cause araenetted hydrogen waa formed
through the action of mold upon the
paper, and then given off In the air of
the room. Recent experiments In Ger
many, however, aeem to show that the
danger really arises from particles of
dust preceding from the paper. It la
said that at present few wall-papers
containing arsenic are manufactured.
Gnardln.- a Coast by Ktectrictty.
A correspondent of Nature suggests
that a long coast-line may be rendered
safe to ships In foggy weather by
monns of an electric cable lying ten
miles offshore, and parallel with th
coast. In about ttfty fathoms of water.
When ever an iron ship' approached
within 200 yards of the cable, he say
nn electric detector on board the vessel
could give the alarm In support of
the suggestion he asserts that messages'
sent along an electric cable lying on the
sea-bottom have been read, with suita
ble apparatus, on a ship floating above
the cable.
More Monsters of Olden Time.
The fossil remains of an apparently
new species of the ancient reptile
named by geologists the "mosasaur"
have just been discovered In the chalk
beds of Northern France. These rep
tiles, which became extinct age ago,
were of enormous size, some being sev
enty or more feet In length. They had
comparatively slender bodies, like a
snake, paddles like a whale, and some
of the characteristic features of a liz
ard. They were especially abundaut In
America, and their remains have been
fonud In New Jersey and in the States
bordering the Gulf of Mexico, as well
as went of the Mississippi River.
' A Van '.tied River Track. .
Explorations made last autumn
brought to light many Interesting facta
about what is known to geologists as
the "Niplsslng-Mattawa River." Thli
Is believed' to have been the ancient
outlet for the Great Lakes Huron,
Michigan and Superior before their wa
ters began to flow through Lake Erie.
The old river bed was traced. In the.
Canadian province of Ontario, from
Lake NIplssing, near the northern part
of Georgian Bay, to the valley of the'
Ottawa River. At one place the site of
an ancient ; cataract was discovered,
and reason was. found for believing
that the size of the vanished river was
very similar to that of the St. Clair
and Detroit Rivers, through which the
Great Lakes now have their outlet.
LVqntd Crystal.
Among the minor wonders of mod
ern chemical discovery are' Doctor
Lehman's "liquid crystals." Recently
Professor Miers, of the Royal. Society,
haa been experimenting with some of
these curious substances, and he finds
tbat when "azoxyphenol" crystals are
warmed on a microscopic slide they un
dergo a sudden transformation from
the solid to the liquid condition on
reaching a temperature of 134 degrees.
Yet, having become liquid, .the sub
stance nevertheless retains the form
of crystals, and these remarkable crys
tals possess the property of double re
fraction. ' If heated up to 165 degrees,
the substance undergoes another
change, and "loses its double refrac
tivity. I. It an Ancient Alphabet?
Monsieur Ptette has made some re
markable discoveries in a cave at Le
Mas-d'AzlL in Southern France, near
the Pyrenees. This cave, shaped like
a tuunel, was evidently Inhabited in
very ancient days by the race of peo
ple called the "cave-dwellers" who
lived in the Neolithic, or Later Stone,
age. They left a great number of ob
long and flattened pebbles on which
they bad painted curious figures and
devices with peroxide of Iron. Some of
the pebbles contain only dots, or
stripes, which, the discoverer thinks,
may have been symbols for numbers.
Others bear devices having some re
semblance to alphabetic characters.
One pebble has
VfT' fT f painted upon it
ft r IL I J the singular row
V ot figures here
represented, and Monsieur Piette does
not hesitate to suggest that some of
these designs are possibly phonetic
symbols, which had a definite mean
ing to the Inhabitants of the cave. A
writer In Nature, reviewing Monsieur
Piette's "astonishing - discoveries,"
makes an additional suggestion. "As
suming these markings to be syllabic
signs," be saya, "can It be possible that
these pebbles were employed in build
ing up words and sentences, much a
children use boxes of letters?"
Mirage ta Alaska.
The moat wonderful mirages ever be
held by mortal eyes are those that are
seen in the twilight winter day In
sort hern Alaska. Those remarkably
.uastly pictures of things, both Imaging
ary and real,' are mirrored on the sur
face of the waste plains instead of upon
the clouds or in the atmosphere, saya
a correspondent of the St Louis Repub
lic. Mimic lakes and water courses
fringed with vegetation are to be seea
pictured as real as life on th. surface
of the snow, while grassy mounds,
stamps, trees, logs, etc, which have an
actual existence some place on the
arta'e
uounuiine ot snow In all kinds of fan
tastlc shapes. Some -of these objects
ire distorted and magnified Into the
shapes of huge, ungainly anlmaJa and
reptiles of enormous proportions. '
Tire-fogs and mists are driven across
these waters by the winds, and, as the
objects referred to loom op in the fly
ing vapors, they appear like living crea
tures, and seem to be actually moving
rapidly across the plain. At other times
they appear high In the air, but this la
a characteristic of the northern mirages
that are seen near the seashore. When
the vapors and mists are driven out
to sea the Images mirrored In them ap
pear to be lunging through the waters
at a terrific rate of speed, dashing the
spray high In the air, while huge break
ers roll over them and onward toward
the mountainous islands beyond, and
against which they all appear to be
dashing.
Monstrous serpents, apparently sev
eral hundred feet long, sometimes with
riders on their backs, men on, horse
back thirty to fifty feet In height, ani
mals and birds of all kinds of horrible
shapes and colors, seem to be scurrying
past, racing and chasing each other,
until they are lost In twilight fogs or
dashed to pieces upon the rocky Islands
mentioned above, and which are twenty
miles ont at sea.
Laying Down the Law.
''Some years ago," said the Professor,
"I bought a tract of land in Southern
Missouri I took the pains to have It
investigated in advance and had Matte
factory assurance that the low lands
were fertile while the hills were full of
Iron, coal and some minerals even mors
valuable. I also learned that there
were a lot of squatters on the premises,
but my own regard for law was so high
that I anticipated no trouble In having
them vacate.
"Armed with a deed, and nothing
more formidable, I went down to take
possession and "put things in such shape
as to insure a revenue. . When I had
explained my purpose to two or three
of the squatters whom I happened to
come upon fishing in one of my streams,
they entered no protest, but looked at
one another aud said I had better see
Spud Dearlng, as he was the man they
bad chosen to do- the business of the
colony. I tried to Impress them with
the fact that there was really no busi
ness to be done. They were trespass
ers, the property was mine, and they,
would have to : leave. They bade no.
sign as to the merits of the question,
but told 'me to see Spud. 'He warn't
no eddlcated law'er, but he knowed his
business.'
" 'Howdy,' was Spud's salutation
when I found him arguing with a mule
that wanted to go toward home wiiile
Spud wanted to travel a mile out of th.
way in order to visit a still. 'I hearn
you bought this place, he anaouneed
with startling promptness. ' 'Weuns
kirn In here an' opened up lan' an' rais
ed truck and fared our tam'Iles an'
'stablished a bury In' groun' an' made
all our 'rangements ter lire an' die
here. It's too late ter change our plana
But they hain't nuthin' mean bout us
fellers. I 'tend ter bus'ness fur aH of
'em an it won't 'tain you moren's three
minutes.- You k n come in here an raise
crops an' dig in yer mines, but we
mus' have th' cabins an' th' little patch
es we's got an' stay here. Nobody else
kin bother you. That's th' law as? 6k'
rest .of It Is tbat ef you don't agree
you"ll be planted right here on yer own
ianV
"I agreed, and never made a better
bargain. I don't miss what Spud and
his colony take and they see to it faith
fully that no one else takes anything.'
Detroit Free Press.
The Buffalo Nearly Bxtermfaveed.
Gen. A. W. Greeley, of the War De
partment, In a paper read recently, de
plored the wholesale slaughter of the
buffaloes which has been going on for
60 years and -which has well-nigh ex
terminated this useful' animal. From
the Hps of sn old army officer he ascer
tained that In the valley of the Arkan
sas hesaw In the '40s an enormous herd
of buffalo terrifying even to look upon.
The old army officer says be crossed at
right angles a moving herd which was.
79 miles In width ana so dense as to
render travel dangerous. The general
himself saw 60 miles of territory liter
ally covered with bison. In the winter
of '78 and '76 he knew of 164,000 buffalo
skins being brought Into Griffin, Tex.
x-he Children's Bleep.
A physician in an address before a
woman's club .on the care of children's
health, recently said that It la criminal
to attempt to save a little money by
not giving every child In the family a
bed to himself. The physician also
emphasized the need of early sleep.
"It Is so easy," he said, "to let a ner
vous child lose sleep In the early even
ing, when be or she should be hard at
it. When a physician prescribes some
Important remedy that must be taken
and which is not pleasant, a mother
feels that It Is time well expended to
coax and wheedle, and even bribe the
little one to swallow It. Spend just as
much thought and effort In getting your
child to sleep every night, if he does
not fall off bis chair at the evening
meal from drowsiness, as the normal
child should. Give up concerts, thea
ters, parties, anything till you have
secured for the nervous, twitching boy
or girl the benign habit of sleep. Coax
him to bis room, give him a quick
sponge bath, tuck him in his single bed.
with a light wool blanket over him be
sides the sheet, snd in a lowered lignt
sit by him and talk to him till be Is
quieted. Tell him gentle,, soothing
stories, nothing to' excite bis Imagina
tion, and when he J"- finally asleep,
have the room cool, dark and quiet.
Don't let him try to sleep tn a room
which- has been a sitting room all the
evening, without having it thoroughly
refilled with fresh outdoor air, which
may be accomplished by throwing win
dows wide open for fifteen minutes."
XaTAaalMfal
Bobby Popper, what ta a mutual
friend?
Mr. Ferry He Is generally one who
makes It bis business to see that you
don't miss hearing the mean things
your friends say about yoo. Cincin
nati Bxtqulrer.
Type are slightly less than 1 inch la
length.
w 1 4
f.kating to some is elating,
(.nd sometime, quit, elevating.
When yon strike a .nag imbedded in the
. lee; -'-ill
at once your left foot fails yoo,
ind its hard to tell what alls yon,
- Still you wonder how it happened quits
so nice.
f o go floating like a feather,
D'er smooth surface when the weather
Is frigid enough to freeze a hitching
post;
Hake, rare sport that .aits full many.
But for me I don't want any
And will give my share to thns- ''-
' to boast.
It Is nice to be a skater.
But to cot the alligator
Is not near so grand by half as figure
eights, f
and to sit down unexpected.
In. a manner unaffected,
Is a trick quite easy done with any
. skates.
. SKILLFUL MALAY TRIBE. .
Bone and Steel Sword. Used Against
Fpain la Philippine Island..
' Among the tribes of native Philip
pine Islanders now in revolt against
Spanish sovereignty, are the Vlsayas, a
Malay people, showing traces of Japa
nese and Chinese admixture. They are
BONE 8WOBDS.
industrious agriculturists, laying out
their fields on the sides of the moun
tains with ' great skill and Irrigating
them with artificial canals. In addi
tion, they excel in Iron working,, and
their arms are etqulsite specimens of
metal work. Their chief weapon Is the
kris or kreese, peculiar to the .Malaya
This, a kind of dagger or short sword,
they ornament with carved handles,
while the blade Is of exquisitely grace
ful design.
They still retain some of the primi
tive weapons of ancient savagery,
among which the most formidable is a
sword wrought from the blade of a
sword fish. The base Is cut smooth for
a handle, while the blades have the
sharp natural teeth . of the natural
weapon. No more cruel or formidable
Instrument has ever been devised by
'Plata Words.
Freeman, the historian, was apt to
grow Irritable over matters of intel
lectual difference. One day he was at
the Macmtllana', and when the conver
sation turned upon the subject of Ire
land Mr. Macmlllan said that, for his
part, he was In favor of granting au
tonomy. This set Freeman to growling at the
use of a Greek word.
: "Why can't you speak English," said
he, "and say Home Rule, Instead of
using Greek, which you don't know?"
One of the guests flushed with anger,
and ventured to reprove him. calling
his attention to the respect due their
host, and at the same time paying
tribute to Mr. Macmillan's remarkable
abilities. But although Freeman did
not apologize In so many words, he
smoothed the matter over by a humor
ous' repetition of his criticism. Later
in the evening gout was mentioned.
"There again!" he exclaimed. "Why
can't we call it toe-woe?" .. Everybody
laughed, and the breach was healed.
Pennsylvania Children Go to School.
The average dally attendance of chil
dren In the public ecrcols Is highest in
Pennsylvania, being 779,000, while !t
New York It Is 757,000.
Talae of the Swallow. .
The food of the swallow is composed
of Insects alone, and the number these
bird, destroy In a single summer Is
Incalculable. Tbey are in summer on
the wing for fully sixteen hours dur
ing ttve day, and the greater part of the
time making havoc among the millions
at lismils Whscn Infest the air.
0 1
STEEL SWORDS.
REV, OR, TALMAGE.
The Eminent Divine's Sunday
Discourse-..
Subject: "Vicarious Sacrifice.
Text: "Without sheddimr of blood is no
reniiiion." Hebrews lx., 22.
John Q. Whittier, the last of the great
school of American poets that made the
last quarter ot n century brilliaut, asked ma
in the Wbit Mountains one morning after
prayers, in whlnh I had given out Cowper's
famous hymn about the "fountain tilled
with blood," "Io you really believe there is
a literal application of the olood of Christ to
the soul?" My negative roply then is my
negative rflply now. Ths Bible statement
agrees with all physiolaus and all phyaiol
ogints and nil ncienttsts in saying that ths
blood ta tu life, ant in the Christian
religion it mnaaa simply that Christ's
life was given for life. Hence all this talk
nf men who say the Bible story ot blood Is
disgusting, mi. I that they don't want what
they call a "slaughter house religion," only
shows their incapacity or unwillingness to
looK through the figure of speech toward the
thing signi fled. The blood t hat on the dark
est Friday the world ever saw oozed or
trickled or poured from the brow, and the
side, an I the hands, and the feet of the
illustrious sufferer, back of Jerusalem, in a
few hours coagulated and dried up and for
ever disappeared, aa I It man had depended
on the applioitlon of the literal blood ot
Christ there would not have baen a soul
saved for the last eighteen centuries.
in order to understand this red word of
my text we only have to exercise as muoh
common sense iu religion as we do in every
thing else. Pang for pang, hunger for
hunger, fatigue for fatigue, tear for tear,
blood for bloo 1, life for life, we see every
day illustrated. The act of substitution la
no novelty, although I hear men talk as
though the Idea ot Christ's suffering sub
stituted for our sutleriug were something
abnormal, something distressingly odd,
something wildly eccentric, a solitary
episode In the world's history when I could
take you out Into this city and before sun
down point you to five hundred cases of sub
stitution and voluntary suffering of one in
behalf of another.
At 2 o'clock to-morrow afternoon go
among the places of business or toil. It will
b. no difficult thing for you to And men who
by their looks show you that they are over
worked. They are prematurely old. They
are hastening rapidly toward their decease.
Tbey have gone through crises in business
that shattered their nervous system and
pulled on the brain. They have a shortness
ot breath hq 1 a pain in the back of the head
and at nl?ht an insomnia that alarms them.
Why are they drudging at business early and
late? For fun? No. it would be difficult
to extract any amusement out of that ex
haustion. Because they are avaricious? in
many caaos no. Bcau-e their own personal
expenses are lavish? No. A few hundred
dollars would meet all their wants. Tne
simple fact ts the man is enduring all that
fatigue and exasperation and wear and teat
to keep his home prosperous. There is an
invisible linn reaching from that store, from
that bauk, from that shop, from that scaf
folding, to a quiet scene a few blocks away,
a few miles away. And there is the secret
of that business endurance. He is simply
the champion of a homestead for which he
wins bread and wardrobe and education and
prosperity, and lu such battle 10,000 men
fall. Of ten business men whom I bury nine
die ot overwork fr others. Some sudden
disease finds them with no power of resist
anoe, and thy are gone. Life for life. Blood
for blood. Substitution!
; At 1 o'clock to-morraw morning, tho hour
when slum'mr is most uninterrupted nnd
most profound, walk amid the dwelling
housesof the city. Here and there you will
And a dim litltt because it is the household
custom to keep a subdued light burning, but
most of th) houses from base to top are as
dark as though uninhabited. A merciful
Qod has S'-nt forth the nrehani?el of sleep,
and he puts his wings over the city. But
yonder is a clear light burnin-.', and outside
on the window casement is a glass or pitohet
containing Too 1 for a sick child. The food
Is set in the fresh air. This is the sixth
night that mother has sat up with that suf
ferer. Hue has to the last point obeyed th
physician's prescription, not driving a drop
too much or too little or a moment too soon
or too late, rttie is very anxious, for she hoi
buried three children with the same disease,
aud she prays an I weeps, eac't prayer and
sob endin with a kiss of tho pale cheek.
By dint of kindness she gets the little one
through the ordeal. After it is all over the
mother is taken down. Braiu or nervous
fever sets in, and one day she leaves the con
valescent child with a mother's blessing aud
goes up to join the three in the kingdom of
heaven. L'fe for life! Substitution! The
fact is that there are an uncounted number
of mothers who, after they have navigated a
lare family of children through all the dis
eases of infancy and got them fairly started up
the flowering stopeof ooyhood and girlhood
have only strength enough left to die. Thej
fade away. Home call it consumption.
Some call it nervous prostration. Some call
it intermittent or malarial Indisposition. But
I call it martyrdom ot the domestic circle.
Lite for life, Blooi for blood. . Substitu
tion! Or perhaps the mother lingers long enough
to see a son got on the wrong road, and hi;
former kindness becomes rough reply
when she expresses anxiety about him.
But she goes right on, looking carefully af
ter his apparel, remembering his every birth
day with some memento, and, when he is
brought home worn out with dissipation,
nurses him till be gets well and starts hWn
again and hopes nnd expects and prays and
eouuselsaud suffers until her strength gives
out and she fails. She is going, and atten
dants, bending over her pillow, ak her it
she has any message to leave, and she makes
great effort to say something, but out ol
three or four minutes of indistinct utterance
they can catch but three words, "My poor
boy:" The simple (act is she died tor him.
Lire for life. Substitution!
About thirty-six yeais ago there went forth
from our northern and southern homes hun
dreds of thousands of men to do battle for
their country. All the poetry of war- soon
vanished and left them nothing but the ter
rible prose. Tiiey waded knee deep in mud.
They slept in snow-banks. Tbey mar.-hed
till their cut feet tracked ths earth. Tbey
wer swindled out of their honest rations
and live I ou meat not nt for a dog. Tbey
h id jaws all fractured and eyes extinguished
and limbs shot away. Thousands of them
cried for water as they lay dying on the Held
the night a'ter the battle and got It not,
Tbey were homesick aud received no mes
sage from their loved, ones. They died in
barns, in bushes, iu ditches, the buzzards of
the summer heat the only attendants on
their obsequies. No one but the infinite God,
who knows everything, knows the ten-thousandth
part of the len-rth and breadth and
depth nnd height of :he anguish of the
northern and southern battlefields. Why
diit these fatners leave their children and go
to the froutand why did these youngmen,
postponing the marriage day, start out into
the probabilities of never coming baok? For
tne country they 'died. Life lor life. Blood
for blood. Substitution!
But we nn?d not go so far. What is that
monument in Greenwood? It is to the doc
tors who fell In the southern epidemics.
Why go? - Weretbere not enough sick to be
atteuded in thse. northern latitudes? Oh,
yes! But the doctor puts a few medical
books in his valise, and some vials of medi
cine, and leaves his patients hero in the
hands of other physicians afid takes the rail
train.; Before he get." to the infected regions
be passes crowded rail trains, regular and
extra, takingtiie nying and atingnted popu
lallons. He arrives tn a city over which a
great horror Is brooding. He goes from
couch to couch, feeling of the pulse and
studying symptoms and prescribing day nt-
rerday, night after night, until a fellow
pbystcmn "ays: - "Doctor, you had battel
go home an I rest. You look mis
erable." But bo cannot rest while ao
nany.arn suffering. On and nn nntll
nme morning finds him in a delirium, in
which be talks of home, and then rises and
ays he must.go and .look after thosa pati
snts. He is told to lie down, but he fl.-hrs
bis attendants until he falls back and is
weaker and weaker, and dies for people with
whom he had no kinship, and far away from
his own family, aud is hastily put away in a
stranger's tomb and only the fifth part of a
newspaper line tells us of his sacrifice his
name just .mentioned among, flye, -yet he
has touched the farthest height of stihlirclty
In that three weeks of humanitarian service.
He goes straight as an arrow to tho hosoin
of Him who said, 'I was s!ck. an t ye vis
ited Me." Llie for life. Blood for blood
Substitution!
In the legal profession I soe tliesa-ne prin
ciple of self facrttloe. Iu 1H William Kreo
man, a pauperize 1 and idiotic negro, was at
Auburn, N. Y-, on trial for murder. He had
slain the entire Van Nest family. The foam
ing wrath of the oommuuity could be kept
off him only bv armed constables. W'no
would volunteer to be his counsel? No
attorney wanted to sacrltlco his popularity
by such an ungrateful task. All were sileut
saveone a young lawyer with feeble voice
that could hardly be heard outside the bar,
pale and thin and awkward. It was William
H. Seward, who saw that the prisoner was
Idiotic and irresponsible and ought to be put
In an asylnm rather than put to death,
the heroic counsel uttering these beautiful
words:
"I speak now In the bearing ot a people
who have prejudged prisoner and con
demned me for pleading iu his behalf. H
Is a convict, a pauper, a negro, without intel
lect, sense or emotion. My ohild with an
affectionate smile disarms my careworn face
of its frown whenever I cross my threshold.
The beggar in the street obliges me to give
because he says, 'God bless you!' as I pass.
My dog caresses me with fondness It I will
but smile on htm. My horse recoguizes ma
when I till his mauger. What rewtrd, what
gratitude, what sympathy and affec
tion can I expect here? There the pris
oner sits. Look at him. Look at the assem
blage around you. Listen to their ill sup
pressed censures and their excited fears and
leli me where among my neighbors or my
fellow men, where even in his heart I can
expect to find a sentiment, a thought, not to
say of reward or of acknowledgment, or
even of recognition? Gentlemen, you may
think of this evidence what you please,
bring in what verdict you can, but I assev
erate before heaven and you that, 'to the
best of my knowledge aud belief, the pris
oner at the bar does not at this moment
know why it is that my shadow falls on you
instead of his own."
The gallows got its victim, but the post
mortem examination of the poor creature
showed to ull the surgeons aud to all the
world that the public was wrong, that Will
lam H. Seward was right and that hard,
stony stop of obloquy in the Auburn court
room was the first step of the stairs of fame
up which he went to the top, or . to within
one step of the top, that last denied him
through the trea -hery of American politics.
Nothing sublimer was ever seen, in an Amer
ican courtroom than Willia'n H. Seward,
without reward, standing befweou the fury
of the populace, and the loathsome inibocile.
Substitution!
In the realm of the floe nrls thero wa- as
remar-kahU) an instance. A brilliaut but
hypercriticlsed painter, Joseph William
Turner, was met by a volley of a!use from
all the art galleries of Kurope. His paint
ings, which have since won the applause of
all civilized nations "The Fifth l'la,'ue of
Eirypt." "Fishermen on a Let Shore Iu
Squally Weather," "Calais Pier." "The Sua
Rising Through Mist" an I "Dido Building
Carthage" were then targets for critioi
to shoot at. Iu defense of this out
raeous'y abuse 1 man a youug author of
twenty-four years, just one year out ot
coilege, came forth with his pun and
wrote the ablest and most famous essays
on art that the world ever s-iw or ever
will see John Buskin's "Modern Pain
ters." For seventeen years this autbot
fought the battles of tho maltreated artist,
and after, in poverty and broken Im irted
nuss, the painter had died and the public
trie. 1 to undo their cruelties toward him by
giving him a big funeral and burial in St.
Paul's cathedral, his old-time friend took
out of a tin box 19,000 pieces of p iper con
taining drawings by the old painter, and
through many weary and uncompe?tcd
months assorted and arranged them for pub
lio observation. People sav John lluskin
in his old days is cross, misanthropic and
morbid. Whatever ho may do that he ought
not to do, aud whatever ho may s iy that h
ought not to say between now and his death,
he will leave this world insolvent as far ai
it has any capacity to pay this author's pea
for its chivalric and Christian defense of a
poor painter's pencil. John Ku-kin for Will
iam Turner. Blood for blood. Substitution!
All good mu have for centuries been try
ing to tell whom this sub-uituro was like,
and every comparisiou, inspired nn I uniu
spirej, evangelistic, prophetic, apostolic un I
humau falls short, for Christ was the Groat
Unlike. Adam a type id Christ, b-,"iuse he
came directly from Got; Noah a type ot
Christ, because he delivcrel his own family
from the'deiugn; Melchisedoea type of Christ,
because he had no pre iocessor or successor;
Joseph a type of Christ, because he was
cast out by his brethren, Mosis a typn of
Christ, because he wandelivererfroin bond
age; Samson a type of Christ, because of his
strength to slay the Hons au I carry off the
Iron gates of impossibility; Solomon a type
of Christ tn the atTlueucoof his dominion;
Jonah a type of Christ, becauseof tlie stormy
sea in which be threw hi.nself for the rescue
of others. But put together Adam aud N'oah
and Melohisedec an 1 Joseph and Moses and
Joshua aud Samson and Solomon and Jonah,
and they would not make a fragment of a
Christ, a quarter of a Christ, tne half of a
Christ or the millionth part of a Christ.
He forsook a throne and sat down ou His
own foolstool. Ho came from the top of
glory to the bottom ot humiliation and
change t a circumference seraphic for a
circumference diabolic. On e waifel on by
angels, now hissed at by the brigands.
From afar and high up He came doxu-. past
meteors swifter than ihey; by starry thrones,
Himself mere lustrous; past larger worlds to
smaller worlds; down stairs of firmaments.
and Irom cloud to cloud au 1 through tree
;op aud iuto the camel's stall, to thrust His
shoulder under our burdens and take-th
lances of p tin through His vitals, and
wrapped Himsellin all tne agonies which we
deserve for our misdoings and stool on ihe
-splitting decks of a fouudering vessel a ufd
the drenching surf or fhesei nu l parsed
midnights on the mountains amid wild
beasts of prey and stood at the point where,
all earthly and infernal hostilities charged
on Him at once with their keen sabres our
Substitute!
When did attorney ever endure so much
for a pauper client or physician for the pa
tient In the lazaretto or mother for the child
in membranous croup, as Christ for us, as
Christ for you, as Christ for me? Shall any
man or woman or child lu tnis audience who
has ever suffered for another find it hard t
understand this Christly sufT-ring for us?
Shall those whose sympathies have been
wrung in butialt or the unfortunate have no
appreciation of tbat one moment which was
lifted out of all the ages ot eternity as most
conspicuous, when Christ gathered up all
the sins of those to be redeemed under Ills
one arm, ami all his sorrows under His
other arm and said. "I will atone for these
under My right arm nnd will heal all those
under My left arm. Strike Mo with all thy
glittering shafts, O eternal justice! Boll
over Me with all thy surgis, yo oceans ot
orrow!" An ! the thunderbolts struck Him
from above, aud the seas of trouble rolled
up from beneath, hurricane t.fter hurricane,
and cyclone alter eycloneJ and then and
there in the presence of heaven and earth
and hell yea, all worlds witnessing the
price, the bitter prion, thetiauso-nduut price,
ths awful price, the glorious price, th; Iti
llntte price, the eterual price, was paid that
vets us tree.
A man hurts himself more id Ins
wire's emima ioti by being brutal to
other people Ibiii ho does by being
brutal to her.
A pretty girl 11 like a catchy air
when you first hear it you go around
everywhere - humming if, lint the
first new one knocks it out of your
bead.
The world's cree.l in, "He ts tho bos
man who wears the beet coat."
A Ctrl wlio can't eo nu M dead
horse in the xtreet without crying
will walk a mile to look at a lot ot
ileai' iirds Muck on bonnets in a t-bop
window.
The moral gOTd of thn ioiliviilaa
n4 that, of . tincictv sre ahvnvs co
existent, anil no effect rati ta for one
is without its direct influence upon the
other.
Gray hair anil wrinkles may come,
but a happy heart is always young.
Where the temporat ire is just right
for a saint it is too warm for a sinner.
1
ci.LiHil i H V,lfcj