n. r. BOHWEIEB.
THE CONSTITUTION THE UNION AND THE ENFORCEMENT OP THE LAWS.
VOL. LI.
MIFFLINTOWN. JUNIATA COUN1T. PENNA.. WEDNESDAY. OCTOBER 6. 1897.
NO. 43
CHAPTER XVII (Continued.)
"Look here, be said, io a ringing voice,
"who are the persona who will benefit bj
th. phyaic I want you to use. I? If I
had the designs you affect to credit me
with, I shouldn't be giving you this ad
rice; It's contrary to reason. Your wife?
Tea; she will become. different -.nan.
But yon you most oi all, for yon will ex
change anxiety that wean you, conscience
that burns you no, hear me, Mr. Cros
mont, I am doing you Justice for peace
and happiness, and honest ease."
-. . "Curse you! What do you mean? Ton
are drunk mad "
"No. I have learned a secret, and I
am putting it to the most honest use f
can."
"What secret? Speak out.' said Cros
mont, in a low voice, with the auddeu
calm of a desperate man.
"You are In difficulties. You are using
unworthy means to free yourself from
them"
"What means?" asked Crosmont, with
sudden subtle change in his voice which
:- gave Armathwaite his first suspicion that
he was somehow on the wrong tack, and
. mast find out more before he ventured so
. far as he had Intended to do.
tlv resorted in the village
.'that your" economy is starving your wife.
' Ot course it is an absurd exaggeration.
", but it shows what people think. You
uuderstand, Mr. Crosmont, that I ac
knowledge that my speaking out to you in
this way would be an Impertinence if It
had not been for the direct charge you
.made against me at the outset."
. But Crosmont was in no mood to be
offended at anything, he was so evidently
overjoyed at the levity of the charge
which had been so portentously heralded.
"I see." be said, mockingly, "you want
me to look after my own wife ao that you
may have a better opportunity of paying
court to some one else's."
Armathwaite took no notice of the
taunt; his intended blow having been
turned aside, he was only desirous of
speedy and safe retreat without any pres
ent renewal of hostilities. Fortunately,
a chattering group from the drawing room
at 'a't moment made their appearance in
.be conservatory above, and gave them au
excuse for breaking up the tete-a-tete. The
rest of the evening was blurred to Arma
thwaite; he moved and spoke mechanical
ly, wrapped in a maddening whirl of sus
nicions and conjectures. The only thing
that remained on his mind afterwards was
rlie sight of. ClosBKiat. talking aToor 'to
Bud5a'.angtjwu!?X?4,-fr-ir an ex-"
pivSiion of hatred and mistrust, which
'- 'jrte lady accompanied by one of reckless
(- defiance. 1
-, CHAPTER XVIII.
' It seemed as If Dr. Peele had some ink
ling in his mind of the fact that the even
ing visit of bis young colleague was of
deeper import than usual. After one
glance at Armathwaite's face he turned
his own sway from the lamplight and be
gan his accustomed questions about the
day's work in a hurried and nervous man
ner. "I am afraid I am going to open a sub
ject which distresses you, sir," said
Frank. "But I have come, as I think
you foresaw that I should do, to a point
In my Kuowieuge oi c-enuiu -" ..........
your practice, when my remaining ignor
ance becomes insupportable, and my mind
is continually tortured and even distracted
v in my wjork by the thought of certain hide
ous wrongs the object at Which I can
only guess at. You remember the words
mil used to me when I first came, con-
cerning secrets whicn i was to iearu u
decided to remain 'here. I do not wish to
.... 1 I M I
I force your confidence, sir; but 1 snau De
grateful to you if you will at least lei me
ell you what I have found out lor my-
slf, and advise me as to my tuture con
duct in the mutter."
"J advise you!" said the old man sol
emnly and bitterly. "I tell you, Arma
thwaite. it was my inability to move in
any direction iu this matter which broke
tne doVn, and made me take refuge be
tween these four walla from evils I could
not witness and could not cure. Are you
anxious, knowing so much as you do, to
draw back from the post?"
"Oo the contrary," answered Anna
thwaite, fervently, "I i-ave conceived,
rightly or wrongly, that I was brought
here for the express purpose of releasing
Alma Crosmont from the unhappy cir
t'Uuisisnces in which she is placed, and
I can hone.t'y say It is the object I have
at present more at heart than anything in
the world. Dr. Peele, you must surely
agree with me that her mind Ir in dan
ger. You have influence with Crosmout;
he is auxious to retain your good opinion.
Can you not Induce him to send his wife
way for a time?"
rr. I'eele looked at the youn man with
solemn, plaintive earnestness, and shook
his head.
"No," said he; "to save her would be to
put Aphra ia danger, and I am bound by
oath to her father to stand by her at all
costs."
"To stand by Lady Kildonan?"
"Yes."
"And the danger for her what is that?"
"Ah! It is a secret which nobody in the
world knows except herself aud me."
"Her husband. Doesn't he kuow
doesn't he suspect it?"
"No. You shall learn it In good time:
but we will take the other story first
Alma's." He paused, arranging the ma
terial of his narrative in his mind. Then
he began in a low, monotonous voice.
He told how, twenty-two years ago, the
house whese Ned Crosmont and his wife
lived was a' private lunatic asylum, kept
by a relation of his, a doctor of reputa
tion and ability. Here Alma's father, a
musician, had been sent by his wife's par
ents. He had gone mad over writing an
opera called "Psyche." He was also
possessed of mesmeric powers, which he
had exercise over his wife until she lost
all control over her own will.
The mad musician remained In the asy
lum until Bis wife's parents fetched him
out again, when they thought she was go
ing to die. It was near the birth of her
caua. -I lost sight of tlTm, o.iTlnne1
Dr. Peele, "for someyears, and when i
did see him acaln.saoor fellow, be was in
a rapid decline, and had by that time
worked and worried himself into a state
K good deal nearer lunacy than any he bad
passed through when in the asylum. His
wife was dead ; he waa in very bad cir
cumstances. But he had a tiny girl. born,
ao he told me, while her mother was in a
mesmeric trance; in her name. Alma, I
perceived a connection with that of the
heroine of the famous opera, and in her
ay I Uked to fajKC--ad so. I an tare.
did her fatter that I saw something of
the look we Nad imagined in the idenl
Psyche. At any rate. I was deeply inter
ested la the little create a; aud when he'
father, a few weeks Inter, was on his
ieath bed, I willingly undertook to become
her guardian. She grew up. and the ten
dency to dreaminess seemed to die out of
her as she advanced towarda womannoou.
I made her study at the South Kensington
Art Schools to develop her marked taste
for drawing. I wanted to take ber home,
but my wife would not hear of it 'it
world interfere wiMi Millie's prospects ;'
of course jood old Millie was not con
sulted. I was determined to have my
dear new child near me, howevsr, and I
hit upon the idea of marrying her ta
young Ned Crosmont, an honest, good
hearted fellow, as I thought, who only
wanted a nice wife to make him steady
down into as good a husband as a girl
could wish for."
The old man paused, and seemed for a
few momenta to be buried in tha gloom of
his disappointed hopes. When ha resum
ed bis voice sounded weaker, and it was
evidently with a great effort that he ot
tered the few dosing words of his story.
"I knew that Ned and Aphra Digfcton
had been boy-and-glrl sweethearts, but I
could not conceive that he would have
the audacity to think seriously of her
when they had grown out of childhood,
still less that when rfbe was once married"
-the doctor paused and weut on with
bowed head, in a slower voice "he wouid
forget his honor and duty for her. Under
stand, Dr. Armathwaite" and suddenly
he raised his head, .and spoke with decis
ion and authority "that I am casting no
slur on Aphra Kildonau'a character.
Aphra is like a goddeas on canvas, rous
ing men's admiration by looks which ex
press emotions she does not feel; at least,
that has alwaya been my opinion of her,
and I have watched her grow up from a
child. But the consequences to Alma
have been more disastrous than if Lady
Kildonan had done her a greater wrong.
I know all this, you see. and can, unluck
ily for me, watch this drama as well from
the- four Wbiis of tii room as 1 could j
when I saw Its sceneu with my own eyes.
But I can do nothing."
He stopped. The story was over. But
there was another which Armathwaite
was still more anxious to hear.
"May I know what the danger for Lady
Kildonan is?" he asked.
"Not to-night," answered the old doctor,
hur'edly, drawing himself together with
Vl fl?iv-flgngnsra:tlon f reluctance
to part with his secret, which filled Arma
thwaite with the fear that he might per
haps never disclose it to him after all. "I
am really tired: I cannot talk more to
night. I will see you again to-morrow-yes,
to-morrow."
With a long, earnest gaze into each
other's face, the men parted; and it was
with a new and solemn sense of duty and
responsibility, shadowed by a grave fear,
that the younger closed the door of the
sick room behind him. His mind, his
heart, his whole being were absorbed by
the last solemn words he had just beard
from the doctor's lips.
The next morning, tired out by his
night's patrol, Frank slept late, and woke
oppressed. As soon as breakfast was over
he went to see Dr. Peele, who had not
risen, but who caused himself to be prop
ped up in bed. He said, with a grave and
troubled face, that he would send Arma
thwaite to The Crags with a note for
Lady Kildonan.
"If you will kindly hand me that writing
case and a pencil, I will write the note,"
he added.
This he did and Armathwaite took the
letter and started off for bis visits to hit
patients and to The Crags.
CHAPTER XIX.
It was hard that day for the young man
to keep his thoughts fixed on the mala
dies of his respective patients even while
iu their presence: and when be was stand
ing by the bedside of Mr. Sanderson, who
lived in a small house not two hundred
vards from Ned Crosmout's residence, h
could scarcely keep his attention to the
lumbago which was the subject iu hand.
for thought of the more interesting case
a few steps away.
On coining out of the villa, however, h
was surprised to find the buxom Nanny
waiting for him. with a face full of mys
tery and importance. It was now wisi
four o'clock, and the mists were thicken
inc towards evening.
"Oh, if you please, sir," she began, a
soon as he came up to where she stood
giving a piece of sugar to the doctor
cob. "we saw your horse waiting here, anc
master sent me to ask if you'd be gooii
enough to step over?"
"Mr. Crosmont sent for me?" said Ar
niathwaite.
"Yes, sir, master himself; he's just coui
back from Liverpool. It's about my mis
tress, sir; he's getting downright fright
ened, and well he may, for she's just likt
the dead to-day, and she just lies then
and sighs sometimes, bnt not as if sht
was awake at all."
They were walking along the road to
wards the large house, Armuthwaite will
his horse's bridle over his arm. At th
gate Crosmout himself met them, loukiuf
haggard, worn and anxious.
"Ob, I say," he began, iu his usual ah
rupt. sullen manner, "I wanted to apes:
to you a moment. Where were you go
ing?"
"To The Crags: I have a letter to giv
Lady Kildonan from Dr. Peele."
r "From Dr. Peele!" Crosmont appeared
half anxious, half relieved. "Oh!" H
looked down on the ground and twisiei
his mustache. WelL yon go on ther
now. You won't atay, I suppose?"
"No. I have only to wait for an an
swer to this,"
"Well, and then, if you will, just csD
here on your way back. Oan you dc
that?"
"Certainly."
Armathwaite had no thought of bear
lng malica for the agent's injodieiout
speech at their last meeting; but Crosmonl
seemed to feel that some word of concilia
tion might be desirable.
"It's rll right about the other night.
Isn't itT You're not nursing up any ill
feeling Wcause of anything I said? You
see you knew that my wife waa 111, wfhen
1. not being a doctor myself, didn't see
there was anything the matter with her.
And there isn't anything the matter with
her now only temper. But but, oi
course, that's a thing that only gets worst
with a husband, and a few words from
anybody e3e, and a powder or a mixture
every three hoars Just to humor inem,
does wonders. So if you will come I shall
be obliged to you.
Armathwaite promised that he would
and rode off in much anxiety. Such civ
ility from the churlish Crosmont to a man
he bated and even feared was an unmis
takable sign that be was seriously alarm
ed by the condition to which his infamous
treatment bad reduced his wife.
n arriving at The Crags, he refused to
dismount until Lord Kildonan, learnlna.
that he had come, sent an urgent mes
sage that he wished to see him.
The old Scotchman was lying on the
sofa in the small room which divided his
iibrsry from his sleeping apartment. He
raised himself to a sitting posture as the
doctor came in. and held out a cold, dam
mv hand to him.
"How are you?" he said In a weak
voice. "I'm very glad to see you. I have
been so very seedy that I almost thought
of sending for you, only it seemed scarce
.y worth while. But as you're here, per
haps you can find out what is tie matter
with me."
The doctor went to the window, drew
9 tiie Sara green blind, and let in the day
light upon the patient's face.
"Yea," he said: "you certainly dont
look yonr beat. Lord Kildonan. What
have yon been doinc? I think 1 can guess
already."
"Well, it's more than I can. I have
done nothing that I haven't been doing
every day of my life for the laat two
rears."
L "Are you in the habit of taking sleep
ing draughts, thenr
"Never did such a thing in my life.
"Ah, well, then, I'm on the wrong tack.
Will you tell me when and how yon first
began to feel Indisposed?"
"It was last night. I was not feeling
much inclined for work so I found When
I set about It. It hae sometimes hap
pened to me lately to feel heavy and stu
pid at night I'm growing old, I suppose
and I'm afraid of spoiling my book by
writing when I'm not ta the vein. You
see,. Dr. Armathwaite, you can't expect
to put anything but your best, your most
matured work, before the notice of the
men of science whom I want to catch for
mv public."
"No. I quite see that," said Arma
.hwaite gravely.
"So when I had had my whisky and
water and my biscuit I generally take a
glass of whisky toddy at about half-past
nine I find it rather helps my work than
not "
Quite so," said Armathwaite, as the
l-ist remark was made with a suggestion
of apology.
"I did very little writing before I took
my usual rest, feeling rather drowsy. I
became diazy and shivery, and before long
I was violently sick."
"You have had these attacks before?"
"Yes. the last bad one was about a
month ago. I have had two slight touches
of it since, but nothing to speak of."
thwaite. in a curiously constrained voice,
ater a short pause, "Ibelieve I can pre
vent your having these attacks again.
When I gee the next one coming on I shall
ask your permission to spend the night
with you."
When yon see it coming on! echoed
the l.atieut in surprise.
"les; I believe, by a calculation I can
make, if you give me the approximate
f'.stes of the previous attacks. I can find
out when the next will be due."
"Dear me. dear me, that is very clever
cried Lord Kildonan, In astonishment and
admiration.
"Oh, not when one has studied these
things, said the young doctor modestly.
;is he rose to go. Of course, I may be
wrong, in any case i strongly aavise you
not to mention your indisposition to Lady
Kildonan until we have found a complete
cure for it."
(To be continued.)
Characteristic Songs.
Under Christian influences the songs
of the FIJlans are fast beoomlug ob
solete; In them the national character
found expression. These songs, or
mekkes, as they are called, recount
the story of some ancient hero, of some
military campaign or naval expedition,
or, perhaps, of a peaceful fishing ex
cursion. They are generally sung of
evenings by the men only, who assem
ble for the purxse In one of their long,
low huts. Here they sit In solemn trtate
on mats laid upon the ground, the only
light being that of a smoky fire lu one
cud of the room. One man begins the
chant alone, a second soon Joins bim,
then a few more, till finally all present
have taken It up, acouipanylng the wild
music by much pantomime aud earnest
gesticulation. The time Is beaten upon
a wooden drum by one of their number,
and is occasionally accentuated by a
general clapping of the hands. After
I certain climax has been reached, the
music stops quite abruptly with one
loud clap. Yangona, the national bev
erage. Is then served. This liquor Is
brewed with much formality, accom
panied with low chanting. When fully
pre imred It Is handed round In cups of
cocoanut shell, the chief being the first
to drink. The others then drink In a
certain order of precedence. The liquor
Is of a dirty yellow color and has a hit
ter, aromatic taste, not altogether dis
agreeable. Used In moderation. It acts
as a stimulant, but if Indulged In too
freely a temporary paralysis of the
lower extremities follows, and the vic
tim, while perfectly rational, reels and
staggers as If drunk.
A .stick of tlnitxr 119 feet long and 22
inches square, without a knot or blem
fiii. was cut iu a mill at Hoquiam,
A'ash.. recently.
If good manners are not practiced at
home, but are allowed to lie by until oc
fusions cull ii no n their wearer to assume
the in, they are sure to be a bad tit when
donned.
A character which combines the love of
en ioyment with the love of duty, and the
ability to erfonn it, is the one whose un
folding give the greatest promiseof per
fection. All great men are brave in initiative;
but the courage which enables them to
succeed where others dure not even at
tempt is never so M.tent us when it leads
to entire self-folgetf ulness.
He who dines ou vanity will soon sup
on contempt.
The cheerful live longest in years, and
afterward in our regards. Cheerfulness
is the oil shoot of goodness.
"Re sure yju are right, and then go
ahead;" but in case of doubt, go ahead,
anyhow.
Advice has always been a drug iu the
market; the great supply lias killed the
demand.
The smallest cliil.lreu are nearest llea
eu, as the smallest planets are nearest the
sun.
He wii. has never denied himself for
the sake of giving has but glanced at the
joys of charity.
I know of no manner of speaking so
offensive as that of giving praise, and
closiug it with an exception.
It takes less time to amass a fortune
than to become heavenly-minded. It is
the work, of a long life to become a Chris
tan.
irliS
It rains on an average 208 fays In
(he year in Ireland, about 1R0 In Eng
land, at Kozan about 90 days, and in
(Siberia only 60 days.
At sea level an object one hundred
feet high Is visible a little over thir
teen miles. If five hundred feet high
It Is visible nearly thirty miles.
Many of the streets of Paris are lined
with trees. If a tree dies another of
the same kind, age and size Is brought
from the State forests and put in Its
place. The cost Is tremendous, but
Paris Is the most beautiful of modern
cities.
The records of eighty-eight years
ihow that tornadoes have a width of
ten to 10,500 feet, a length of track of
three hundred yards to two hundred
miles, and a Telocity of progression of
seven to one hundred miles an hour.
With the assistance of the latest ma
chines, a piece of leather can be 4rans
formed Into a pair of boots In thirty
four minutes. In which time It passes
through the hands of sixty-three peo
ple and through fifteen machines.
A new German lamp chimney has
the bulb In the tipper Instead of the
bottom part, and the upper rim Is cut
obliquely. It Is claimed that this
shape makes It safer to blow out the
light, while the flame Is Improved by
being made taller and steadier.
A new and wonderful substitute for
common brittle glass is announced by
a Vienna journal devotea to the glass
and porcelain trade. The substitute Is
said to have all the properties of com
mon glass, except that It Is flexible. It
Is made of collodian wool.
A new electric lamp for bicycles and
carriages has a small electro-mngnet
V'Ici JS LTueu'Vo generate electricity
by a friction wheel pressing against
the side of the front tire, wires run
ning to a small storage battery or else
directly to the lamp, which Is sur
rounded by a case to keep out the dust.
VOWED NOT TO SPEAK,
lad at the End of Fifty Year. Wh.n
Kbe Tried eh. Conta Not.
There is possiblv no other woman In
the world like Miss Experience iuu-
ford, of BluehilL Me. It Is proverbial
that a woman's tongue never stojw,
but Miss Guilford's case Is an exception
to this rule, and for half a century Khe
has held her peace. Not one single
word or audible sound has this woman
illowed to pass her Hps for a period of
fifty years.
The original reason for Miss unu-
ford'a speechlessness waa anger De-
cause she could not marry the man of
b.er choice. When she was 19 years old
khe ffrll In love with William Simpson,
the village schoolmaster. They were
to be married on June 18, 1847. One of
Miss Guilford's rejected suitors told
tales about the schoolmaster, and Miss
Guilford's parents stopped the wed
ding. Miss Guilford thereupon said:
"I swear I will not speak a word,
though I live for fifty years, unless I
marry this man."
She kept her pledge. Her parents
iled. and she went to live with her
married brother. When he died she
made her home with a sister, and after
the sister's death she went to a camp
In the woods, and kept bouse for a
brother, with whom she Is now living.
All this time she performed her share
of the household work, and did not
show nay regret for having made the
vow. When the fifty years of silence
expired she was visited by a large num
ber of relatives and friends, who went
to the camp for the purpose of being
present when she was at liberty to
speak. Soon after the midday meal
Miss Guilford dressed herself In the
garments she had not worn for half a
century. At 2 o'clock aha stood before
the people, smiled and opened her
mouth to speak; but though she tried
hard, and got red In the face in trying,
she could not utter a sound. Her vocal
muscles had become atrophied from
long disuse and refused to work.
When Miss Guilford found she could
not speak she sent to Bangor for a phy
sician and took to her bed. The doctor
gave no hope of recovery, but suggest
ed that she be sent to a Boston hos
pital for treatment. As soon as Miss
Guilford gets strong enough to take the
journey she will make another effort to
regain her speech. Her father left her
a good sum of money at his death,
which has been growing every year la
a savings bank, so that she la well able
to obtain the treatment she requires.
The Horseless Carrtame.
Next to the bicycle, the horseless car
riage will, for short rides, be the me
chanical conveyance of the greatest
blessing to humanity, and the Interest
of the public In this vehicle will be so
great that Inventors and manufacturers
will tedouble their energies to make
a conveyance that will fill this demand.
The horseless carriage which Is to be
the conveyance of the future must be
sold at a more reduced price than I he
horseless carriage of to-day costs.
When This time comes the advantages
of such a mode of conveyance will be so
many that the problem of traversing
short distances will be satisfactorily
solved. Inasmuch as on of the great
est manufacturing firms of the highest
grade of bicycles the world over has
recently reduced the orlce of its wheels
very materially, we look with encour
agement ta this firm to be tha one to
produce the best horseless carriage and
the lowest one In price, considering tha
material used and the skilled workman
ship employed.
When the horseless carriage conies
down In price It will become a necessl
i ty. At mreeant a bona mast be kept
Cor ba waather by paeple who ar un
able, through weakness or poor health,
to go about.
There are upward of 2.000 borselew
carriages In use In Paris for public ser
vice, and private citizens can muster
more than this number. Indeed. Euro
pean are much more familiar with
them than Americans are.' The horse
less carriage is In very common nse in
Europe, although It Is cumbersome and
unwieldy. The general opinion Is that
since American genius has taken up the
matter the horseless carriage will be
come a great success.
The horseless carriage has more ad
vantages than appears at first sight.
Of course there must be a place to keep
It. The horse, the feed, the clearing up,
the coustant breakage of harness and
the perpetual annoyance of feeling that
one's animals are' not half cared for,
will give place to the ease and comfort
with which the horseless carriage ?an
be kept. It will not be difficult to learn
to manage these carriages, and when
repair shops become frequent, the prob
lem of getting about will be so simpli
fied that everybody will wonder why
we never had such a convenient vehicle
before.
An expert In mechanics Is the author
ity for the assertion that the horseless
carriage will run a much more success
ful and rapid career, everything consid
ered than the bicycle. New York
Ledger.
The Alaskan Dog.
The Alaskan dog is almost human in
Intelligence. He weighs about 10(1
pounds. Heavily laden, he will travel
as many as sixty miles a day.
With twenty dogs In a team no two of
them av In a straight line from the
driver. When unhitched for the night
they pile upon the first blanket that Is
thrown upon the snow, and there they
stay. Whan you crawl Into your sleep
ing bag and pull a robe over It the dog
will get under the robe. Unless you are
careful ha will be Inside of the bug In
the morning. Their endurance is phe
nomenal and they are capable o? stroug
affection. They art great fighters.
A traveler who recently returned
from Alaska says of the treatment ac
corded these faithful animals:
"The whip that Is used on them Is
the cruelest thing of Its kind that is
known to man. Thirty feet In length
and two Inches thick near the rhort
handle. It has a lash ten feet long that
cuts like a knife. The Russian knout
Isn't In It. When a dog Is struck you
hear a sharp yelp, and then your slelgb
whirls past a bit of fur or possibly a
piece cf bloody skin lying on the snow."
Spots on the Bun.
"The sun has great activity In spots,"
says Bayne's "Pith of Astrouomy,"
"these being sometimes 50,000 miles It
diameter. These spots are enormous
vents for the tempests of flame that
sweep out of and down Into the sun.
An up-and-down rush has a velocity of
about twenty, miles a second, and a side
rush a Telocity of one hundred and
twenty miles a second. These tempests
rage for days and months at a time,
and as they cease the sides of the spots
fly together at the rate of 20.000 miles
an hour. They strike together and
the rising spray of fire leaps thousands
of miles Into space. It falls again find
rolls over the Himalayas of fire as the
sea over the pebbles on Its beach. If
strips as large as this earth were placed
In such a tempest they would be mere
corks as tossed by an ocean storm."
Key West Haa No Chimneys.
It Is curious, though true, that of all
the houses, dwellings, stores, hotels
and other buildings that dot the Island
of Key West from one shore to the oth
er, not one of them has a chimney or
anything that will answer the purpose
of a chimney. Handsome residences
and lowly hovels are alike In this re
spect, and from an eminence gazing
out over acre of roofs on all sides one
Is struck with the want of something
to complete the symmetry of the pic
ture. Wood and coal or fuel of any
kind are unknown quantities, as the
tropical atmosphere furnishes all the
heat required, and for cooking pur
poses sticks of carbon are used, which
are sold by peddlers, who hawk their
wares about the streets. Atlanta Con
stitution. Clothes ot Paper.
Paper underclothing has a strange
sound, but It is asserted that the Jap
anese have for a long time been mak
ing such garments from their finely
crisped or grained paper, after the
sheets have been pasted together at
the edges so as to form large pieces.
When the paper has been cut to pat
tern, the different parts are sewn to
gether and hemmed, and the places
where the buttonholes are to be form
ed ar strengthened with calico and
linen. The stuff Is said to be very
strong, and at the same time very flex
ible.
An Automatic Ticket Belter.
An automatic appliance for the de
livery of railway tickets, which bids
fair to hold a respectable place among
similar devices, haa been tried abroad.
The machine works with absolute cor
rectness, and date as -well as issues
the rickets. It to partieuUtiy useful
where a number of tickets have to be
issued at fixed fares, such as for local
paaaeager traffic.
Tha Sight of Birds.
Tha organ of sight la more highly de
veloped tn birds than In any other anl
mal. Naturalists declare that the kes
trel is possessed of snch wonderful
powers of sight that It la able to see a
mouse wJien It Is Itself at such a height
In the air that It to Invisible to the
naked human eye.
Oom Past's New Coach.
President Kruger, ot the Transvaal,
haa so far departed from his usual
simplicity In matters of this kind as to
order from London a state carriage
which. It la said, will cost him no less
than $3,000. The arms of the South
African republic will be painted upon
the panels of the doors; silver eagles.
the nstl'w' emblem, will pose with
spread wings upon the silver lamps
and upon the four corners of the upper
part of the carriage, and the Interior
will be lined with light Una satin.
A Light Lunch.
Benny Bloobumper "Oh, papa, the
goat haa swallowed a Roman candle!"
Mr. Bloobumper "That's all right.
Ho mere! wasted a light Iubqa,"-
LUsv
GOCD MONEY IN POLECATS.
Han Ftarta a Fksak Farm and Kx
lcta mm to Become Wealths'.
Edgar Brown, who lives all alone ot
in Island In the lake of the woods
about twelve miles from Rat Portage,
Ont, Is the owner of what Is probably
the most novel farm In existence. He
calls It a skunk farm. The entire Isl
and Is given up to the raising of pole
cats. Brown cam to Dnluth from St.
Louis, Mo., In boom days, made a for
tune and lost It again, like a great
many others. Ywo years ago be got
the gold fever and went Into the Cana
dian gold fields. He had about $6,000
when he left Duluth, half of which ha
Invested In a gold mine, which he had
been told was the greatest mine in ex
istence. He found rlefe ore and plenty
of free gold on the surface, but after
the purchase price was paid for it the
mine failed. Brown saw that be had
been swindled and this disgusted him
with gold mining.
He had determined to come back Into
the United Stntes and go Into real es
tate again, when one day he discovered
that there were other ways lu which
be could make money. While be was In
one ot the stores of the Hudson Bay
Company an Indian came In and sold
a polecat skin. He noticed that the fur
was very fine, and that the company
paid $1.25 for It. He made some In
quiries and found the company was
willing to buy all the fur It could of
that kind for the same price. This sat
isfied him that there would be money
In raising the animals for their fur.
He determined to start a skunk farm.
With this end In view he leased an isl
and In the Lake of the Woods, about
twelre miles from Bat Portage, with
an area of 100 acres. He employed a
number of half -breeds to catch some of
the little animals for him and they
soon had 200 or 300 In captivity. Ha
stocked his farm with these. He built
little houses for them to live In In win
ter aud made everything as comfort
able as possible for them. He person
ally superintended their care, feeding
them himself. They are fed on fish en
tirely, which Is very plentiful there.
When feeding time comes Brown takes
a little cart load of fish, pushes It
around to different stations he has
marked out on the island and whistles
for bis pets. They always eat just at
dusk, feeding only once each day. At
the sound of the whistle the bushy-tailed
"children of the devil," as they are
sometimes called, come scampering
from all directions.
Last year Brown raised 400 of the lit
tle creatures and this year ISO mothers
have families of from two to six each.
He has now about 1,000 of the black
footed beauties f.nd they multiply fast.
The Hudsou Bi;y Company has con
tracted to take all the furs and oil he
can furnish, and Broivn says his farm
will soon be worth from $10,000 to
$15,000 a year to him, wltfi no danger
of poor crops. "
Taking 1 ta Own Portrait.
It seems like something of an achieve
ment to make a wild deer take its own
portrait, but such a feat was lately ac
complished by Mr. Charles Hughes, of
Red Bluff, Cal.
He conceived the Idea of causing a
wild animal to take a flashlight photo
graph as It passed along a trail In the
Coast Range of mountains, secure un
der cover of night.
To accomplish this purpose Mt.
Hughes set up the camera a short dis
tance from a trail over which deer were
known to run, and then connected the
shutter and the flashlight materials
with a trap. When the deer stepped
upon the trap the camera was opened
and the flashlight set off at the same
Instant. Mr. Hughes thus secured the
negative In the dead of night, and when
there was not a soul within sight or
hearing of the animal.
On developing the negative Mr,
Hughes found the photograph of a deer.
The frightened appearance of the ani
mal as be was startlud by the' sudden
flash of light Is clearly shown in the
picture.
Noosing a Hea-Llon.
A correspondent of Ram's Horn nar
rates a pulllng-match between a sea-
lion and a farmer:
Near Tillamook, Ore., an old German
farmer chanced to be driving along the
beach, when his watchful gaze was
greeted by the sight of a large Ben-lion
some distance out on the sand, fast
asleep.
It was the work of a moment for Ja
cob to make a lasso of a stout rope he
bad In his wagon, fasten the end of It
to the hind axle, and adjust the noose
over the sea-lion's head. Then Jacob
Jumped Into the wagon and started
homeward with his prize.
The sea-lion did the same, and as his
team was the stronger of the two, Ja
cob started seaward at a good pace, and
only saved himself and his "outfit" by
springing quickly to the ground, grasp -
lng his Jack-knife and cutting the rope.
Yours, Mine and Oars.
A Western paper tells a story of a
mixed brood of children which reveals
the confusion liable to exl it in certain
families.
A widower and a widow, each having
children, married, and children were
subsequently born to them. The par
ents agreed much better than the chll-
drea did. One day a neighbor, going
past their place, heard a commotion
within, out of which rose the voice of
the wife, screaming to the husband:
"Jim! Jim I Hurry out In the yard!
Your children and my children are beat
ing tha lives out of our children!"
rnniUmrntt and IHircst ion.
Th- Introduction of mustard or Den-
" w
per Into the stomach of a rabbit caused
the secretion of pancreatic Juice to be
a nil ..do nnnrirnnlori This. sc.
counts for the stimulating effects of j
these condiments upon digestion.
Georgia Poetry.'
A Georgia farmer has a son who
writes verse, but Is too modest to sub
mit It for publication. One day, when
the farmer was going to town, he took
a bundle of poems along with him and
handed them to an editor.
"They're pretty fair," sal-I the edi
tor. "His rhyme is all right, but
there's something wrong with bis
feet."
"Well," said the farmer, "I woa't
Ass ifc ha has got coma,"
, REV. DR. TALMAGE.
The Eminent Divine's Sunday
Disc urse.
ftaered Music, Its Importance, Power ami
Influence la the Causa at Christian
ity A Slncta Church Is a Saccesa
" fill Church Obstacles to Overcome.
Text: "It cam" even to pass, as the
trumpeters and singer were as one, to
make one sound to be heard lu praising
and thaukiug the Lord." Chronicles v.,
13.
Thn tmple was done. It was the very
chorus ot all tnagnlncence and pomp.
Hplendor crowded against .splendor. It was
the dinmond necklace ot the erth. From
the hui;e pillars crowned with leaves and
fluwHrs and rows of pomegranate wrought
out in burnUhed metal down even to thn
tougs and snuffers made out of pure gold,
everything was as complete as th Ood di
rected architect could make it. It seemed
as if a vision from heaven bad alighted on
the monntniBH. The day for denization
came. Tradition says that there were in
and sroiind about thn temple on that day
i0.000 silver trumpets, 40,000 harps, 40,000
timbrels and 200,000 singers, so that ' all
modern demonstrations at Dusseldorf or
Boston soetn nothing compared with tbat.
As this great sound surged up amid thn
precious stones of the templn it must
have seemed like the river of life dashing
agniust the amethyst of the wall of heaven.
The sound arose, and God, as if to show
that He was well pleased with the music
which His children make in all ages,
dropped into the midst of the templH a
cloud of glory so overpowering that the
officiating priests were obliged to stop In
the miil.t of the services.
There has been much discussion as to
where music was born. I think that at the
beginning, "when the morning stars sang
together and all the sons of God shouted
for joy." the earth heard the echo. The
cloud on which the angels stood to cele
brate the creation was the birthplace of
song. Tun htars that glitter at night are
only so many keys of celestial pearl on
which God's fingers play the music of the
spheres. Inanimate nature is full of God's
stringed and wind Instruments. .Silence,
itself perfect silence is ouly a musical
rest in God's great anthem of worship.
Wind among the leaves, InsecWhumming in
the summer air, the rush of billow upon
beach, the ocean far out sounding its ever
lasting psalm, the bobolink on the edge of
the forest, the quail whistling up from the
grass, are music. While visiting Black well's
Island I heard, coming from a window of
the lunatic asylum, a very sweet song, it
was sung by one who had lost her reason,
and I have come to believe that even the
deranged and disordered elements of na
ture would make music to our ears if we
only had acuteness enough to listen. I
suppose that even the sounds in nature
that are discordant and repulsive make
harmony in God's ear. You know that you
may come so near to an orchestra that the
sounds are painful instead of pleasurable,
and I think that we stand so near devastat
ing storm and frightful whirlwind we can
not hear that which makes to God s ear and
the ear of tho spirits above us a music as
complete as it is tremendous.
I propose to speak about sacred music,
first showing you its importance and then
stilting some of the obstacles to its advance
ment. I draw the first argument for the Impor
tance of sacred music from the fact that
God commanded it. Through Paul lie tells
us to admonish one another In psalms and
hymns and spiritual songs. Through David
heri.."! apt, "-Sing ye to God, all ye king
doms of the earth." And there are hun
dreds of other na usages I mignt name, prov
ing that it is as much a man's duty to slcx
as it is his duty to pray, ndeed l think
there are more commands in the Bille to
sing than there are to pray. God not only
asks tor the human voice, but for the in
struments of music. He asks for the cym
bal and the harp and the trumpet. And I
suppose t(nt in the last days of the church
the harp, the flute, the trumpet and all the
instruments of music that have given their
chief aid to the theater and bacchanal, will
be brought by their masters and laid down
at the feet of Christ and then sounded In
the church's triumph on her way from suf
fering into glory. "Praise ye the Lord!"
Praise Him with your voices. Praise Him
with stringed instruments and with or
gans. I draw another argument for the import
ance of this exercise from the impressive
ness of the exercise. You know something
of what secular music has achieved. You
know it has made its Impression upon gov
ernments, upon laws, upon literature, upon
whole generations. One inspiring national
air Is worth 30.000 men as a standing army.
There comes a time in the battle when one
bugle is worth 1000 muskets. In the earlier
part of our Civil War the Government pro
posed to economize in bands of music, and
many of them were sent home, but the gen
erals in the army sent word to Washington:
"You are making a very great mistake. We
are falling back and falling back. We have
not enough music." I have to tell you that
no nation or church can alTord to severely
economize in iiiubIc.
Why should we rob the programmes oi
worldly guyety when we have so many ap
propriate songs and tuues composed iu our
own day, as well as that magnificent inher
itance of church psalmody which has come
down fragrant wltn tne uevotions of other
generations tunes no more worn out than
when our greatgrandfathers climbed up on
them from the church pew to glory? Dear
old souls, how they used to sing! And in
ttiose days there were certain tunes mar
ried to certain hymns, and they have lived
In peace a great while, these two old peo
ple, and we have no right to divorce them.
Born as we have been amid this great
wealth of church music, augmented by the
compositions of artists In ourday, weought
not to be tempted out of the. sphere of
Christian harmony and try lo seek uncon
secruted sounds. It Is absurd for a million
aire to steal.
Many of you are illustrations ot what a
sacred sung can do. Through it you were
brought i-ito the kingdom of Jesus Christ.
You stood out against the warning and ar
gument of the pulpit, but when, in the
sweet words of Charles Wesley or John
Newton or Toplady, the love of Jesus
! was s,un(! to your soul, then you sur-
rendered as an armed castle that could not
be taken by a host lifts its window to listen
to a harp's thrill.
There was a Scotch soldier dying in New
Orleans, and a Scotch minister came In to
give him the consolations of the gospel.
The man turned over on his pillow and
said, "Don't talk to me about religion."
Then the minister began to sing a familiar
hymn that was composed by David DickeD
son, beginuing with the words:
Oh, mother dear, Jerusalem,
When shall I come to thee?
He snug it tothe tune of "Dundee," and
everybody in Scotland knows that, and as
be began to slug the dying soldier turued
over on his pillow and said to the minister,
"Where unl you learn mat? ' "vty,"re
plied the minister, "my mother tnught me
that." "So did mine," said the dying sol
dier, and the very foundation of his heart
was upturned, and then and there be yielded
himself to Christ. Oh, it has an irresistl-
ble power! Luther s sermons have been
lorgonen. uuc ms juog.ueni i.ymu ugs
. 1 . 1 t I I . I . ,T tt -1
I s.n thrniiir'i r in nona n ti 1 1 will irisun rr oi n c.
ln muiuhe blast of the archnngel s trum
' pet shall bring about that very day which
the hymn ceieurates. I wouni to GOil tnat
you would take these songs ot salvation as
messages from heaven, for just as certainly
as the birds brought food to Elijah by the
brook Chcrith so these winged harmonies.
God sent are flying to your soul with the
bread of life. Open your mouth and take
it, O hungry Elijah!
I have also noticed the power of sacred
Song to soothe perturbation. You may
have come In here with a grent many wor
rimentf and anxieties, yet perhaps in the
sfnglat ot the first hymn you lost them all
Yon have rea l In the Bible of Paul, an I
bow he was sad and angry and how the boy
David came in and played the evil spirit
out of him. A Spanish king was molan-
i
cno y. ine winaows were au e.oseu ne
sat in tne darkness, zooming couiu onng
him forth until
Franeli came and dis.
aneli came and dis.
coursed musio '
c three or four days to
him. On the fourth day he looked up and
wept and rejoiced, and the windows were
thrown open and that which ail the splen
dors of the court couid not do the power
of song accomplished. If you have anxie
ties and worriments, try this heavenly
charm upon them. Do not sit down on the
bank of the hymn, but plunge in, that the
devil of care may be brought out of you.
It also arouses to action. Do you not
know that a singing church is always a
triumphant church? If a congregation Is
silent during the exercise, or partially
silent. It is the silence of death. It when
tha hymn Is given out yon bear the faint
hum of here and there a father and moth
er in Israel, while the vast majority are
silent, that minister of Christ who is pia
sidlng needs to have a very strong consti
tution If he does not get the chills. H-
needs not only the gra-e of God, but
nerves like whaleboue. It is amazing how
some people with- voice enougli to dis
charge ail their duties in the world, when
they coTie Into the house of G'i 1 have no
voice to discharge this duty. I really be
lieve that If the church of Christ could
rise up and sing as it ought to sing, where
we have 100 souls brought Into the king
dom of Christ there would be 1000. How
was it in olden time? Cajetan said.
"Luther conquered us bv his songs."
But 1 must now speak of some of the
obstacles In the way of tlm advancement of
this sacred music, and the first is that It
has been impressed into the service of satan.
I am far from believing that music ought
always to be positively religious. Refined
art has opened places where music has
been secularized, and lawfully so. The
drawing room, the concert, by the gratifica
tion of pure taste and the production of
harmless amusement and the improvement
of talent, have become very forces in the
advancement of our civilization. Music
has as much right to laugh in Surrey
gardens as It has to pray in St. Paul's. In
the kingdom of nature we have the glad
filing of the wind as well as the long meter
psalm of the thunder. But, while all this
is so, every observer has noticed that this
art, which God Intended for the improve
ment of the ear. and the voice, and tho
head, and the heart, has often been im
pressed Into the service of error. Tartlnl,
the musical composer, dreame 1 one night
tbat satan snatched from his hand au
instrument and played upon it something
very sweet a dream that has often been
fulfilled in our day the voice and tho
Instruments that ought to have been de
voted to Christ captured from the church
and applied to tile purposes of sin.
Another obstacle lias been an inordinate
fear of criticism. The vast majority of
people singing in church never waut any
body else to hear them sing. KverylKuiy
is waiting for someliody else to do his duty.
If we all sang, then the inaccuracies
that ara evident when only a few sing
would be drowned out. Go. I asks you to
do as well as you can, nnd then if you get
the wrong pitch or keep wrong time He
will forgive any dellciency of the ear and
imperfection of tin voice. Angels will not
laugh if you should lose your place in the
musical scale or come in at tli --lose a bar
liehind. There are three schools of sing
ing. I am told the German school, the
Italian school and the French school of
singing. Now I would like to n-M a fourth
school, and that is the school of Christ.
The voice of a contrite, broken heart, al
though it may not be alle to stand human
criticism, makes better music to God's ear
tliau the most urtistic performance when
the heart is wauling. God calls on the
beasts, ou the cattle, ou the dnions. to
praise Him. and we oii-dt not to he behind
the cattle and tip drag ms.
Another obstacle In tin a lvan'-cment of
this art has been the erroneous notion that
this part of the s-'rvic coul l be conducted
by delegation. Churches have said: "Oh,
what uu easy time wo shall have! The
minister will do the preaching, and the
choir will do the singing, and we will have
nothing to do." And you know as well us
I that there are a great multitude of .
churches all through this land w.'iere the
propie are not expected to sing. The
whole work idone by a delegation of four
or six or ten persons, and th audience are
silent. In such a church in Syracuse nn
old elder persisted in singing, and so the
jhoir appointed a committee to go and ask
the elder if he would not stop. You know
thnt in many churches the choir are ex
pected to do all the singing, and tho great
mass of the people areexpected to he silent,
a ink; it you utter your voice you are Inter
fering. In that church they stand, the
four, with opera glasses dangling at their
iide, singing "Itock of uges, cleft for me,"
with the same spirit that, the night before
on the stage, they took their part in the
"Grande Duchesse" or Dou Giovanni."
Music ought to rush from the audience
like the water from a rock clear, bright,
sparkling. If all the other part of the
church service is dull, do not have the
music dull. With so many thrilling things
to sing about, away with r.ll drawling and
stupidity. There is no'hing makes me so
nsrvous as to sit in a pulpit and look off on
an audience with their eyes three-fourths
closed aud their lips aways shut, mumbling
the praises of God. During my recent ab
sence I preached to a large audience, and
all the music they made together did not
equal one skylark. People do not sleep at
a coronation. Do not let us sleep when we
come to a Saviour's crowning. I n order to a
proper discharge of this duty let us stand
up, save as age or weakness or fatigue ex
cuses us. Seated tn un easy pew we cau
uot do this duty half so well as when, up
light, we throw our whole body into it.
Let our song be like an acclamation of vic
tory. You have a right to sing. Do not
surrender your prerogative.
We want to rouse all our families upon
this subject. We want each family of our
congregation to be a singing school. Child
ish petulance, obduracy and intractability
would be soothed if we had more singing iu
the household, and then our little on
ould be prepared for the great congrega
tion on Sabbath day, their voices uniting
with our voices iu the praisei the Lord. r
After a shower there are scores of streams
that come down the mountain side with
voices rippling and silvery, pouring into
one river and then rolling in united
strength to the sea. So I would have all
the families In our church semi forth the
voice of prayer and praise, pouring it into
the great tide of public worship that rolls
on and on to empty into the great, wide
heart of God. Never can we have our
church sing as it ought until our families
sing as they ought.
There will be a great revolution on this
subject In all churches. God will come
down by nls spirit una rouse up tne oia
hymns and tunes that have not been more
than half awake since the time of our grand
fathers. The silent pows In thechurch will '
break forth into music, and when the con
ductor takes his place on the Sabbath day
there will be a great host of voices rushing
into the harmony. My Christian friends, if
we have no taste for this service ou eartli.
what will we do In heaven, where thevj6
all sing and sing forever? I would tha
our singing to-day might be like the Sutu
day night rehearsal for the Sahhath inor
Ing In the skies, and we might begiu no
by the strength and ly the help of iiol.JiMi
discharge a duty which none of us has f i
performed. And now what more appro
priate thing can I do than to give out the
doxology of the heavens, "Unto Hiin who
hath loved us anil washed us from our sins
in His own blood, to Him be glory forever'.'
lie who receives a pood turn
never forget it; ho who does one,
should
should
never remember it.
Any one may do a casual act of rood
nature, but a continuation of them shows
it is u art of tin teiueruiu(-nt.
It is .1 ill:, lilt lo say who docs tin most
mischief, enemies wilh the worst inten
tions or friends with the U-si.
Such is tliv words are, such will tliv
affections Ik-; such thv deeds as tliv affec
tions; such thy life as thy deeds.
There is a great struii-lo between van
ity and patieiu-e,wii-n we l:ac to meet a
person who admires us but who bores us.
lie calm iu arguing, for fierceness mak)
error a fault, and truth discourtesy,
calmness is a gi-cat advantage.
Kvery base occupation make .ne sharp
in its piactice, and dull iu every other.
Those who are formed to win (joueral
admiration are seldom calculated to be
I slow individual happiness.
. , . . .
, ; " . . a. . .( ,i, ...L: .,,i
' 1"u '"" "'
coiniiassionate.
I
(
asaeLaa