)
4
B. F. BOHWEIER,
TUB CONSTITUTION THE UNION AND THE ENFORCEMENT OF THE LAW8.
Rslltsscr aad aYcrarterrf.
VO L. LI I
MIFFLINTOWN, JUNIATA COUNTY. PENNA.. WEDNESDAY. FEBRUARY 9.1898.
NO. li.
t
f
to
CHATTER XXV.
"n ur journey back to England we
pent niiU'h time in speculating as to
where Sir Laurence would so, and in
what place we should srek him with the
, greatest likelihood of Boding him. ltoth
well's sanguine view of things alone kept
me frmn feeling most miserable and
frightened. On our arrival in town we
went at once to Mr. tlrace. While we
were there a telegraphic message wai
brought to the solicitor. It was from the
agent or steward at Estmere: "Sir L.
has returned. lie is at the Dower House;
ve:y ill and queer."
The next train carried aa north. We
had miles to drive from the nearest sta
tion to the Dower House. It was day
break before we reached our destinat:on.
I'eople were astir in the house and we
were soon received by the agent. He
knew Lord Kothwell of old, and rpon
hearing who I was, expressed his p'eas
ure that I had at last come to the tome
of my race.
Mrs. Payne made her appearance. In
a few words she tolu us what had hap
pened. Sir Laurence had made .lis ap
pearance at Estmere Court. Although
so many years had elapsed since she had
seen bim, Mrs. I'ayne recognized him at
once. He said nothing to explain his sud
den and unexpected visit. He wall'ed. in
a dreamy kind of way, Bhe said, into the
house, went straight to his wife's bed
room, and finding it with the furniture
all covered up, turned to thp house
keeper, who had ventured to follow him,
and asked if I-ady Estmers was at the
Court. Mrs. Payne was almost too fright
ened to reply, but managed to stammer
out that her ladyship was from home
"Ah, at the Dower House," said Sir
Laurence. "I will go and join her. Tell
them to saddle my horse."
The good woman was at her wits' end.
She stood staring at her master, tind be
gan to wonder if he was an apparation.
She hurried out and consulted her hus
band. Both were much frightened and
anxious to do their best to obey their
master. It happened that a farmer who
lived at a distance had that (lav ridden
in to see some friends in the village, and
being a careful man, who liked to save
a shilling when he conld do so, had, by
Payne's permission, stabled his Dorse in
one of the outhouses about the Court. So
John I'ayne decided to make free with
his friend's horse. He saddled it, and
brought it to the door. Sir L.iv.rence :
prang to the saddle and dashed away at
a beadlong pace.
The Paynes started off at once, and
tnade the agent afare of what stranj
. things had happened. Ie lived in a hoUB 1
tftruriaw, of tbe Lnitemr3
letter or telegram had ifcntent-
- few minutes his horse was harness
in company with Mrs. Payee and
servants, "he was away
the Dower House to do the best he could.
Sir Laurence was there, and frightened
the old caretakers out of their lives. He
had lcoked around and simply ordered .he
house to be got ready, as if a staff of
servants were at beck and call. It was
evident that Sir Laurence meant to stay
the night: a bedroom must be got ready,
and to get a bedroom ready after a house
had been shut up for more than twenty
years is no easy task. Several times they
beard Sir Laurence leave the room, and
watched him go 10 the front door and
look up the drive; he even went to the
g:iies and gazed as if expecting some one
who was to come by road. The night
wore on. Sir Laurence made no further
sign, and Mrs. Payne crept to the floor
of the room, and listening, she fancied
she heard him talking to himself. She
opened the door, and saw at a glnnce that
the P')..r dinner had not been touched, and
moreover, she saw Sir Inurenee, looking
wild and frenzied, stretching out his arms
with passionate gestures and begging and
calling on his wife to return to him.
This is an extended version of Mrs.
Payne's account of Sir Laurence Kst-n-ere's
return to his home. It made both
i,..r li..n.rs feel very anxious, and as I
,..,nln,i bis nresent condition with his
sstrange behavior at Monaco, I feared that
the strain of the last few days had un
hinged my father's mind. I wished to
go to him at once, but Rothwell decided
it would be better to see the doctor first.
He was in the house, having by Mr.
P.lack's request undertaken to stay the
night.
Sir Laurence was very ill, he said-ue
was feverish, but the fever was not se
vere enough to account for his delirious
and strange state. The doctor was
grieved to be a prophet of evil, but he
feared there was some mental injury;
whether its effects would be temporary or
permanent he could not at present Bay.
One thing he was certain of as yet his
patient was in no danger; we could see
him. it might perhaps ease his mind to
find his friends were about him.
The doctor led us to my father's room.
He lay with his eyes wide open; they
looked dark, lustrous and eager. He
tinned them on us as we entered the door,
I tit I fancied their gaze passed over me
and rested on Lord Kothwell; as his old
friend approached him he raised himself
in the bed and stretched out his hands.
"Frank! Frank!" he cried; "is she here?
Has she come with you?"
"Not yet; she will soon come," answer
ed Kothwell.
"Father," I said, "do you know me?"
"Yes, I know you you are my eldest
son, but you have been with me all
thronch the bitter black time. Now 1
want no son. I want my wife, my love!
Cruel! Why have they kept her from
uieV Dearest, the days have been long
:so lone. Come!"
lie was beginning to show signs of
great excitement, but Roth well calmed
him by repeating hla promise,
"tjo at once, Laurence," he said, turn-
inir to me.
I pressed my father's hand and kissed
his forehead; then I left the room. Koth
well followed me very shortly,
"Go to bed and sleep," he said; "drive
over in the morning and catch the first
train. I shall not see you before you go;
I must stay with your father.
When the time for my departure came
I was rejoiced to hear he seemed no
So loue as Kothwell was with
bim he kept comparatively calm: so. hop
ing for the best, I went to mane Known
what had occurred to Lady Estmere, my
mother. She was in Dorsetshire, staying
with an old friend. I knew the name of
the place and the name of the friend, but
I had some trouble in finding out the best
route. As it was, I made a mistake, or
was misdirected, and found myself at 10
.clock at night more than twelve miles
from my destination. Wltn some aiuitiu
ty I obtained a conveyance, but tbe hors
was tired, the road was hilly, so it wM
yearly midnight when I stood before tM
floor of the house at wnich my u.u.uer
was a visitor.
She cam to see me hastily. "Philip!"
she said; "at this hour! What has hap
pened? Tell me! Valentine that shoot
ing "
"v alentlne Is quite well. I have not
seen him, but I heard of him a few days
ago. "Dear Lady Estmere." I said, "how
shall I tell you what has happened? 1
come from some one you loved one
some one who has wronged yon and
would atone, I an tbe bearer of a mes
sage; ;ju bear it? A message oc
pen-e.:i
She laughed a strange little laugh. She
drew her hand from mine so quickly that
I could not intercept the movement. She
stood up aid looked at me.
"At last," she said, with bitterness in
her voice. "It comes at last; after half
a lifetime of scorn he condescends to send
me a message a message. Perhaps 1
shall hear you add, a message of forgive
ness, Mr. Norris?"
"Far, far from it! Believe me, all is
made clear to him. He knows how he
wronged you by his suspicions knows
he was the dupe of a crafty rogue."
"He knows all this?"
"All."
"And he sends yon to me! This If the
greatest wrong of all! If I have dreamed
that one day he would know the truth, I
dreamed also that on that day he would
tome to me that his iips would be the
torst to tell me. I thank you. Mr. Norris,
for your good intentions; but your zeal
was misplaced. Whatever you found 1
suppose might have been found by Sir
Laurence had hn cared to look for it. We
will discuss the matter no more. 1 will
now say good-night a bed shall be pre
pared for you."
She was actually sweeping from the
room. I went after her and caught her
hand.
"I have other news even stranger
news."
My voice must have betrayed my emo
tion. She turned and looked at me in
wonder.
"I have seen your eldest son,' I said
"I.aurence Estmere."
She trembled and leaned her hand on
the tub'i?.
"Valentine is my son," she said. "1
have no other.
"Yes," I cried passionately, "yoa have.
One who will love you even as Valentine
loves you; one who has never known a
mother's love has never known his moth
er lived nntil m few days ago. One who
rrom bis cbildfljod has passed nnde a
false name. Ob, cannot yon eearv "
I fatner were bidding talr to become such
I friends. As to the change 'n my own
circumstances
"That matters little." she said. "I
loved Philip Norris I shall love Laurence
Estmere."
For which assertion I thanked her la
the only possible way.
I stayed at Cheltenham for a week;
during which Claudine and I settled the
month, if not the day, when we were to
be married. Then I went back to Derby
shire. I saw very little of my father and
mother. - While I was absent they had
settled upon going abroad for two or three
months. They were to go alone. Even
Valentine was not to accompany them,
but when they came back they were to
come back to Estmere Court.
I told them what I had arranged with
Clandine. My father assented to my
wishes as though tbe matter had been
foreseen all along. He only stipulated
that Estmere Court should be our home.
If I should have preferred commencing
housekeeping on my own account, I dared
not hint at uch a thing in my case, my
mother's appealing eyes would have
turned the scale.
So they left us. My mother. In spite
of her snow-white hair, looking as fair
as a bride bound on her honeymoon. I
told her so, and she blushed aa vividly
as a young girl might blush.
Valentine and I were commissioned to
see that everything at Estmere Court
was in readiness for their return. We
spent many delightful days in our future
home. We reveled in the long-hidden
treasures which were brought to light,
and carefully checked off on a bulky
Inventory brought down by one of Mr.
Grace's young men. Cabinets of the
rarest porcelain, chests of exquisite old
plate, hundreds and hundreds of price
less treasures accumulated by a long line
of men of taste. To watch all these
brought out of their hiding-places, and,
at the command and pleasure of a gen
tleman sent from London for the pur
pose, arranged in their proper stations in
cabinets, was indeed a labor of love to
Valentine and to me.
Claudine and I were married very quiet
ly at Cheltenham, and then went off for
a long, rambling, delightful honeymoon.
moving from place to place at our own
sweet will, and with no purpose except to
enjoy ourselves. When we thought we
bad neglected our friends at home aa long
as we dared, we turned our faces to our
new home, Estniere Court.
Kothwell made one more journey, wrote
one more book; then retired on his laur
els. He has done up, and in a fashion
refurnished, Mirfield, but, after all, he
spends more time at Estmere Court
than at home. He is essentially the
friend of the family always welcomed
when he arrives, regretted when he de
parts. There is no Lady Kothwell; and,
to the best of my belief, there will be
none. His title will die with him, and
he will leave his broad lands to Valentine
but may that day be far distant.
I will not forget to add that I kept my
promise to the dying woman, Mrs. Mer
ton. Although I did not care to see them
again, and although I kept tbe source
of their supplltw a secret, the boy and
-'- Wirt' Jookefl after fcnti? the latter
1 't?
housekeeper. ' m. "rT00 w" " rbuildi ttfh ion. -Jrimd F
e5SS"e6Vf-ri VWmA. The! defendant rie jng. VL! iiii
: -1 rs- ... ,miilia though YyfrTvulU I' t "'1' -T.f .H 1.1.1 A.ii jtant. tmmn
one-or ".. . . . ,, . l ;-r, " ---
Why do I come from Sir Laarence
Estmere!" I cried. "Because sir Lau
rence Estmere and my father are one
because I am your son! Oh, mother, my
sweet mother! think even in my earliest
childhood I can remember no mother's
kiss or love! Kiss me, my mother; love
me and bless me! Mother," I whispered,
"sweet mother, you will come with me,
yon will come to my father."
"I cannot I cannot, he must come to
me."
"You will come, my mother. Shall I
tell.jou how I left him? He is at the
house from which he drove yoa forth.
He is delirious he is calling night and
day for you you only. Come and save
him."
It was enough; no argument, no appeal
was needed. Rothwell had predicted
truly: the picture I drew swept all wrong
and suffering from her heart. Had it
been possible, she would have started at
once for her husband's bedside; as it
was, it was arranged that we should com
mence our journey the first thing in tbe
morning,
On the way to the Dower House we
had inquired as to the health of ray fath
er and learned that his condition was cer
tainly no worse. So our fears on that
score were allayed. Lord Rothwell was
at the door to welcome us. My mother
drew her arm from mine and held out
her hand to him. He took it and pressed
it to his lips.
"Old friend, she said, "your propnecy
has at last been fulfilled.'
He stooped, and, as a brother might
have done, kissed her forehead, whisper
ing some words I could not catch, fche
divested herself of her mantle ana Don
net. she smoothed her beautiful thick
white hair, and, womanlike, glanced at
the mirror.
"Take me to my husband, she said
I followed. The door opened. They
nnssed through; she left Lord Rothwell s
side and glided to the bed. My father
lav there, sleeping calmly. Sne clasped
t-or hAnds and gazed at him. then she
turned to Rothwell, with an Inquiring,
enirer look. He nodded. She bent over
the sleeper, and her lips touched his fore
head. His eyes opened. He raised his
head, and with a rapturous cry of joy
threw his arms around her. He drew
her face to his and covered it with -erce
kisses.
"Mcrcaret! mv sweet my wife! So
many years dark and dreary! Cruel
Cruel T'
Kothwell took my arm. The tears were
streaming from his eyes and his voice
was broken by emotion.
"It is enough" he said; "let us leave
them so."
We crept fom the room and closed the
door behind us. Such a meeting as this
was too sacred for even a son to wit
ness; but I felt that until life were ended
nothing would again part Sir Laurence
Estmere and his wife.
CHAPTER XXVI,
Whether mv father's malady waa men'
tal or Bodily, his recovery, so far as we
could see. was a rapid one. lie was able
to Ion r. his room and take out-of-door
exercise. Indeed, I was able to assure!
my mother that of recent years 1 naa
never seen him look better.
I was not present at the first interview
he had with Valentine. My brother told
me he called him to his side, and, holding
his hand, expressed his delight at finding
his son snch a credit to his race. He
spoke most affectionately, and expressed
bitter regret that a cruel misfortune
should have compelled them to remain
strangers for so long. The future should
make up for the pnst. His words were
sweet and kind, but yet were invested
with a certain dignity which forbade hla
youngest son to pass, judgment on what
had occurred. Valentine left his pres
ence pleased.
Claudine cried for joy when she heard
of her aunt's reconciliation to her nus
band; so toll, so complete. She was da
lighted to hear that Valentine and his
mn.t sneak of them together. Tt is Im
possible - now to disassociate them.
Claudine cites his tenderness and devo
tion to my mother whenever sne is
pleased to accuse me of neglecting any
thing due to her as my wife. If the
ftermath can atone for tne ruinea Har
vest, my mother will call her life a happy
one. tie seems una me io uear :irr ou-
sence for an hour. It is only when she
s with him that his smile is a perfectly
nppy one. Her every wish is fore
stalled, her every thought anticipated.
Everything must be done for her com
fort and delight He will not enter pub
ic life, because its duties would take
him from her side. In the struggle for i
such fame I am to be his delegate. Ches-
ham's name he has never breathed, lie
does not know that Kothwell and I wit
nessed that fearful act of justice. 1 ver
ily believe that during the time he was
akiug his revenge he knew notning: inai
he acted as a somnambulist might nave
acted, that the tragedy faded from his
memory, or that it had never been fully
impressed on it. Kothwell and I talked it
over, and came to the conclusion that only
two people in the world knew the particu
lars of Chesham s fate, hir Laurence
Estmere, though accountable for it,
knew nothing of what his hand had done.
We live a quiet life at Estmere Court.
My father and mother feel that the
friends of their youth have drifted out
of sight, and they have now arrived at
that rge when new friendships sre rarely
made. My father's position in the county
compels him to mix to a certain extent in
society. The obligations of courtesy are
amply fulfilled, and there the matter
ends.
There are times when I watch him
anxiously when I feel that if the past is
obliterated, or forced aside, its traces are
still left. Even now he is scarcely past
the prime of life, yet in many things he
is an old man. 1 notme a cnange every
time I return to Estmere Court after an
interval of absence, and my heart feels
sad, as something tells me that many
years will not elaspse before my father
and mother must bid each other adieu
forever when the treasure saved at last
from the wreck of their former happi
ness must, be assigned; when 1 shall see
that sweet, grave face smile no more;
when those eyes which have always
looked on me with love shall be closed
forever.
Heaven grant that I deceive myself!
The day which makes me Sir Laurence
Estniere will be the darkest and bitters;
day my life has known.
IThe end.)
A now Invention for preventing vee-
els from sinking after being damaged
by collision waa recently exhibited. An
Iron model of a cargo ship was placed
In water, after having been loaded
with bricks. Then a hole, immense in
size compared with the miniature Tea
sel, was opened at the aide. When the
water bad risen to a torel with the
deck, a number of gutta-percha bags.
fixed under the deck, were Inflated
with carbonic acid gas, and tbe vessel
niiuost immediately began to rise.
The name Ceramic has been given by
a French inventor to a new building
stone obtained by hint from broken
glass. The glass broken bottles, win
dow panes, etc. Is reduced to powder.
different kinds are mixed If variegated
color is desired, and the pulverized ma
terial is devltriflexl by passing succes
sively through two furnaces, the sec
ond being one of high temperature.
The pasty mass la then passed under a
press, which give It shape and consistence.
The use of electrically nested Irons
In laundries, shirt factories and other
places where a considerable amount
of ironing is done Is said to be general
ly appreciated as a great Unprorazoeut
on the old system of gas heating. Two
Irons are used aa a rule, no tlnve being
lost in work, other than pi uMlnaj. and
In summer, with the gas, the atmos
phere of a pressing room become al
most ln&uffercble. The only remedy for
this overheating seems to be alec trie
Irons, and It la a remedy that is being
wisely considered.
One of tbe latest applications of the
pelf-mowing motor is to the lawn mow
er. The new machine, aa described
In tbe Scientific American, reu on
three rollers, which serve both for car
rying the engine, the cotters and the
driver, and for smoothing and leveling
the surface of the lawn. A four-horsepower
gasoline engine la employed, and
all the movements of tbe machine are
controlled by means of two hand-
wheels placed In front of the driver's
seat.
Some persons find difficulty in under
standing bow, since the imagea of ob
ject looked at are Inverted In tbe eyes,
we nevertheless see the object right
Id tip. Recent experiment yw.Xr.
rrt5e fndlcate , that w pass .a an
- I -AJ Jiesn. BalthasAh LiAirvEit,
which rTred everything wltfiin I v
reach of hi vyas, so that, for Mm, the
ground was above and ths sky below,
while thing on tbe right were seen
on the left, and thing on the left ap
peared on the right. Continuously for
eight daya he ware the glasses, and
within that time all his bodily move
ments became adjusted to the new or
der, so that he could walk th streets
without much difficulty.
Much interest baa been awakened in
England by tbe discovery of a prehis
toric lake Tillage near Glastonbury.
The dwelling were placed on mound
of clay raised above the level of '.he
water. The framework of a primitive
loom wa found nnder one-mound, and
tbe number of broken bone needles and
bone splinters discovered In another
mound led the explorers to think that
It may have been the site of an ancient
nAdle factory. Very fw human
bones have been discovered, but
unions the Interesting finds I a blue
gloss bead, with a waving dark Hue
running around It. One of the mounds
contains three hundred tons of clay, all
of wL'.ch must have been dug from the
surrounding hlH and carried to tbe
vpot In boats.
to enjoy hrgely. A broken leg ror as
ostrich means a death sentence. Pari
Figaro.
HISTORY Of- HORSESHOEINO.
aattqaitr of ths Craft and the In
portance of Its Followers.
Ths recent strike of horseshoe rs in
London, which - was happily of short
duration, may serve to call to memory
some facts and tradition that go t
prove the high antiquity of ths craft
and Its Immense Influence on the prog
res of civilization, as far as tbe ser
vices of ths horses are concerned In ad
vancing the Interests of mankind.
Though the horseshoer Is very often
if not generally, designated, f arrler,H
yet this term is misleading nowadays,
If It ever was correct I J Indicating hit
special function.
The faber ferrarius, from which tin
term "farrier" Is doubtless derived,
was a worker In Iron of any kind oi
fashion, and though In the earliest
periods of his history he shod horses
and forged various weapons and othei
articles, yet the designation of "smith"
was usually applied to him In this coun
try, and when be began to be called t
farrier his vocation was more that
of a shoer of horses, and later thcil
physician and surgeon in addition.
The antiquity of the horseshoer Is,
states Gsorjs Fleming, writing In tin
London Live Stock Journal, coeval with
theorlglnof the art, which is lost in tht
mist of 2,000 year. In Western Eu
rope it was probably known to th
Celtic trile8 at a very remote time, and
It may be that the Druid priests wer
the teachers of horseshoeing in thosa
days, as they were the men who wer
best acquaint wrth the primitive arti
and science, a knowledge of whlcj
they contrlred to surround with a veil
of mystery that clnng to these for cen-
tarle. The horsoshoer was, in ths
early centuries of our era, evidently
oonaMersd a mysterious kind of work
man, who punned his calling In a
welrd-llke manner in a place where n
one was allowed to enter until tbe steed
was shod.
It la certain that for hundreds ol
year the shoer was an Important per
sonage, as he held a high social posi
tion and enjoyed certain special priv.
Ileges In this country long before tin
Norman Invasion. This is shown lu
the Welsh triad of laws, which wen
revised by Howell the Good in A. I).
911, but which were doubtless in fore
long before that date. In these lawi
and regulations the court smith, whili
In tbe palaca, was allotted a seat at th
end of the bench, near tbe priest of tli;
household, and he was protected from
the time he began work in the morn
ing until he left at night. He was tf
be presented with clothe for what hi
did for the officer of the palace; he wai
entitled to the first liquor that cam
1st the tiall, and be was to hare food
for himself and servant from the palj
7vf tae r.eaos and feet of n
I I
THE LITTLE PICKANINNY.
Fn Tatars Knew How It Waa and Sa
laaaad Jake.
There was an unusual scene In the
Recorder's court the other day. A ne
gro man was before its bar on a churgo
of drunkenness. Judge Calhoun, who
has a wonderful memory In such mat
ters, recognised an old offender In tho
darkey.
"Jake," said he, "this Is the third
time you're been here this year."
The negro scratched his head and
shifted his bat from one hand to tho
other.
"Yasser, dat's so;, it sh' is. But derc
ar yutber times Is done gone by, and
dish yere time well, suit, dish yere
time is bran' new."
"Well, you were drank each tlm."
remarked the Judge, frowning.
"Yasser, I sho' wuz. I speck I had da
same ol' wabble, but de' caslon wuj
bran' new."
"It's always some excuse," said the
judge, "but I want you to understand
that I'm tired of seeing you here on u
charge of drunkeness."
"Well, suh "
"No. I don't want to hear yonr ex
cuses. It' drunk, drunk, drunk, untj
even the stockade is tired of you."
"But, Jedge," protested the negro,
looking around uneasily and lowerin,;
his voice, "de 'scuse what I got now
ain't so mighty big. but it look liku
ter me dat it's a mighty good one."
"Well, out with It."
"Hit's des a baby, Jedge."
"A what?"
"Des a little baby, suh."
"Well, what has that got to do wtf.Ti
It?" asked the Judge, his manner show
tag iv little curiosity. j
"Hit's at my house, suh. Yesserl
hit's dnr right now, an' I bet you ef
'taint sleep It's a-hollerin." Uncertain
as his position was, the negro chuckled.
Tbe Judge regarded the darkey with
a relenting eye, playing with a slip
of paper on bis desk.
"Well, what of it?" His Judicial In
dignation had disappeared.
"Well, suh, hit was dls away: Ds
las' time I went out er disb yer place,
I say ter myself I ain't gwlne tetch
no more dram, 'kase I done foun' out
dat 'taln't uio'n a half hour frum de
mouf er de bottle ter de rock pile. I
ERMOMS OF THE DAY
The f.lfTtnth or the New York Ilerald'l
Competitive Sermons is on "The Sin
of IeapiMlng Others" Dr. Talinac
I'reacues on " Traps For the Unwary."
"He thatdespiseth hlsnelghborsinneth.'
Jrov. xiv., 21.
There is a great doal of sin in the world
which the ordinary conscience neither
recognizes nor condemns. With most ot
us tbe standard of ri;ht and wronjr is
purely conventional. If we do not break
tho letter of tins '1'en Commandments; it
we keep clear of acts which public opinion
forbids; if we maintain a character upon
which society sots no brand, tuen we feel
at peace within ourselves and make sure
that we are Uod's elect.
W'e do not see what subtle and far-reaching
things Rood and evil are bow they in
terweave themselves into all our sets, our
words and motives, and secret thoughts
even; and how they depend, not upon the
lasuion of tho hour or the place, but upon
eternal and unchangeable principles. An
enlightened and sensitive conscience would
see sin in a thousand things which pass
with the majority as indiilerent, if not
actually praiseworthy. It is not lu nice
points of religious olwervance that places
our moral character above suspicion half
so much as in those weightier mutters of
justice and mercy and truth which are in
voLved in all the business and intercourse
of daily life. Thousands who would trem
ble to participate in any of the so-called
amusements of society, and who aro
as strict and osteutatious
Pharisees in regard to
and other duties, are yet living in such an)
atmosphere of uncharitiibleness and wrong
that they are actually further from tho
kingdom of heaven than the very puhli
cans and harlots. In a terse, direct and
emphatic way a Xonn of guilt is pointed
out by Solomon which we seldom think of,
yet which we are all very prone to full into,
and which is one of the peculiarly heset-i
tings sins of that large class of men who
are disposed to he religious without heiug
godly. The ouief characteristic, of theso
people is to trust in themselves that thev
are righteous, and to treat others in a way
I which unmistakably declares. "Stand ulooli
j for we are holier than you," and they are ! iiveu to into.vi'-a
j so far from thinking such spiritual haiight- I tn" devastating
! iuess sinful that they regard it us uu actuu(
' proof of their divino soushio. Such con.
duct never fails to insure moral resentment
and to elicit the rebuke, "lie that despis-i
etu his neighbor siuneth."
The parable of tbe tiood Samaritan sup-,
plies a most beautiful explanation of thd
word "neighbor." It teaches that every!
man with whom we come in contact or re
lation is to be regarded and treated as our
"neighbor." The fact that 1 know of a
man s existence, and that I can in any way
teach aud inlluenue hhn, isenotigh to bring
me under resnousibilitv in regard to hinr.
been sl.lf.i. Ir my text .lo:tatl.nn ;
his awful mistake: "f ili.l I j
honey with the end of t he r i'i i
my hund, and lo, I nr-i.i .!;."'
multitudes of people in all j
damaged by forbiMen (i,.:, -v. ' v
mean temptation, le!i.-io.j ;':i !
hut damaging and ile.'.rti ..-.
Corrupt literature. Fa', " i, '
fill, comes in this call gm-y.
good, honest. Iiealthntt l, -o ; ,
there is a huudre-l mao- un ji i
trash consumed v.-i't.!i avMhy.
Corrupt literature i- ,!oi ;- r: ,
for the disruption of tin u.rl.."e
other cause. Ki"j,-'!:,-:iN.
trigues, sly coin--: '.,
names given nt pos, ot.:,-,- w i-i-f,
destine meetings in p.ri-. . i,'t
gates, and in hotel i-ar.-.r-. a , 1
perjuries are among tne rn; , i
When a woman, voitng or t ' i.
a y
I-!--
bead thoroughly Mn.re. '
novel she is in app-uli-i g p. n
wealth of good ):.-- c-i-i.i
our publishing lion - i.mt ,
fortho choice of that. v,-:i; -!i
to body, mind an-l oi:l.
ligent man or woman an-'
books that will I"- stre'ig!
mental and moral
4hort and votir time i, r ;
abbreviated that you ,..
up with husks, an 1 -i-:-! w-
j Stimulating Imii:-.- a ,
j sategory of temptat i ii
I ful. You say, ""I eauno' !
: intoxicating liquor, nt. I ;
like it is to me a
j then, It is no ere,! it toy,,: :
! take it. Ilo not l-rag a .'
! stinence, because it is rt-.i :
I pie that you reject a:
: reason that v..ii r : -t
as tho ! ioou you stn.j iy .1 , n t
praver ! them, lint inn It it 'i -i--s .,
aiurui ioinme-s I-r a::
cants. They lil:e it ,
them smack their lips i i i
are dyspeptic ami they i;:;,
tion; or they arc a'. y. i
ind they take it to nr . 1 i
re troubled, and t
them oblivious: or t;r-v
they must celebrate i:.e,r
begin with mint juiep
straws ill the Long Ji'ra
la the ditch, takivg fr
half keronennd hair v.-
Out H-.nil'l supj-.-i- t'
warning from sou.e ,i t
r:
.4.. Hnt T .l t lite brO.'lll At lllltli- muv l-ll Kutnru.,n
umuc u o uij ujiu uu uai, au l uvil it , . ' ' -" " " ,
nuuict-yLuuemsami uurnmg aeseris anil
deadly swamps may separate us: but if
dar 'twd las' night. Well, suh, when
I got home fum work, dey wu a nls-
ger 'onion dnr, bustlln' 'rijund. 'Hello,
here! what kinder doln's is dls? I
nin't no mo'n got de words out'n my
mouf fo' I hear sunp'n blatln' un' dt
kivver like a teeny nanny goat. An'
de nigger 'oman she up an' 'low, you
got a baby, if you but know'd It.'
"Well, sab, dey sorter tu'n down de
counterpln", an' dar be wuz, des ei
natch ul es you please. He wunk at
me a tisoe er two, an' d ' he 'gun ter
blate. I start ter pic' fo(im " up, suh.
ha wis de fust, "klest.
Ihovfl
In the Gwentlan code of these laws
It is stated that the smith was to sit
in a chair near the Judge beside a col
umn, and this column was to be strucii
by the sllentiary on the side farther I
from the king when commanding si
lence. Among the Anglo-Saxons thi
shoer was also held In high esteem, anj
would appear to have received certain
possessions in land through his craft,
Such was the case with Ganielhere. ol
Welbeck, Nottinghamshire, at the No;
man Invasion, as he held certain lend
on condition that he shod the kiug'-i
horses whenever the latter visited iht
Manor of Mansfield.
To Simon St. Llx, a Norman nobl
man who accompanied him In bis in
vasion, WUliam the Conqueror gavj
the town of Northampton and tlx
whole hundred of Falkloy, to provius
shoes for his horses, while anothet
follower, Henry de Ferrers, or Fan
arils, had bestowed on him the honoi
of Tutbury, In the country of Stafford.
because he was Intrusted with the shoe
ing; of the king's horses, or perhaps th
control of the shoer.
me Toiiili; an' say I bet?
say business."
Here the Judge took off his glasses
and rubbed them carefully, leaned his
elbow on the code, and rested his head
on bis hand. There was almost a smllo
on his face as he asked:
"And what did you do then, Jake?"
The negro scratched his head and
laughed sheepishly. "Well, suh, d:ir I
wuz, a grown man wid a baby and
can't put his ban's on It. I had mighty
quare feelin's. I want to go in dar.
an' der I skeered her. I know'd I
wanted ter do sunipln but I duimcr
know what. I feel so good, I say I'll
des take one dram In comtnenbnuce er
dfc baby. Well, suh, I tuck It, an' ft
you don't know de res", ae pieecem in
lar kin tell you.
cleared his throat, anl
tried to frown, but tne rrown was a ;
failure. .
Jake," he said, "you can go mis
time. Your excuse is not a goou one.
but I think I know how you relt. I
have a boy at my house a fine one."
"I boun' 'tis, suhr exclaimed Jace.
"The finest boy on my side of town)
It la admitted by everybody. I know
what your temptations were. I resist
ed and you didn't. Go and behav
yourself. Call the next case!"-At.
lanta Constitution.
Ioe Sailln r on Skates.
Sailing on skates is very popular in
rotue localities. The skater crosses
two sticks, binds them and covers them
with canvas, making the whole aboul
six feet by one or two in extent. H
places this sail against his back and
runs his arms through the sticks so as
to hold it. With a good wind he can
go twenty miles an hour over smooth
Ice, and h? can tack and beat agalust
the' wind, just as in sailing a boat. It
is very exciting, but It requires som
daring to start in, as the rapidity of
the skater Is apt to terrify the man
who has never tried it. -In skating with
the wind one's eyes water, but one t an
see quite well enough to avoid holes.
There would be little chance of being
saved if you did blow In. However, It
is an easy thing to blow across a three
foot hole In going at a high rate ol
spet-d. It is very evcitlng (.port, and
verv little practice Is required though
It demands comparatively smooth Ice
for eood skating. If an obstruction Is
met your fall is pretty hard.
Winter.
Merry, though the moon shines pale
And the wind-tossed branches wail;
Purest crystals float and fall;
There they sparkle.
Here they darkle.
On the pine and lonely walL
K-Tn mar
uoticeil, lor instance, t
taurants are cnlie I i
3t the fact that it ;.nt- :
in the shade, and Pis ,.,
ind his prosje rily in i,
wife and children i:i t :
mortal destiny in t!:-- -on
some of the ii'pior
the words '-Old ( ro v, .'
ot the carcass ami t -r
jwoops upon it. M' n ;
Qumber slain of ruin,
this evil is peeking mi
lud pecking nt th'-ir i
pecking nt tln ir d
womanhood, thru-Mag
:he mortal remains
susly alive, but n-nv n
Crow!" Hut alas' iimr ,
:ng. .Remember ...:
1
there is any channel of communication be
tween us any electric current, so to speak,
by which svmi.athv mav be created hih!
love may act that mun is as trolv mv ! 2H honey in tl
neighbor as if we met in the same market' Furthermore,!!
or lived iu the same street. ! must be put in tli
Notice what it is to despise ourneighbor. ! hctous but il".-:ri:-'
To entertain mean and contemptuous ' trossed the ocean n: ,
thoughts of our neighbor is obviously to ! l,at always oneoi th
despise him. We should ahvavs remember I morning until late at
mui mere is vasny more in common than
there is of difference between the highest
and more cultured and the lowest and most
ignorant. Frequently, however, we forget i rooioy to get their bagga
this, and from mere diversity of outward or railroad station,
circumstances we look unon each nthr i State Legislatures iiav
with feelings of haughty superiority and sanctioned the mig!
vuuioiu i, ajj a conseuueE ti" ipn and iu u"ru?c ui rm:
to gambling iraeti,
who went on boa M
European excursion
iv 1 1 :
w : :
mat 7 1 1 ml-..
. mnu by the name of Paul was re
cently executed in a Western city, and
at latest accounts sixteen of the county
papers had spoken of the affair
"hanging like a Paul" over the comma
nlty. Boston Courier.
The Bant for ttnhappini
Tis folly to be wise
Where ignorance is bliss.
But suspicious women who
Search their husband's pockets throngk
Never thing, nlns, of thisl
Hardly Synonymous.
Smith Say, old man, can yoa let m
have $10 for a day?
Jones No; but I can let yon have $1
for ten days. Same thing, you know.
Judging from the experience we
have as we grow older. Providence
seems to have saved ua from some
awfully queer reasons.
Close your ear to slander.
I your lips to praise.
Opei
Keops His Vow.
Once-a year the residents of San
Leandro, Col., witness spectacle
which Is strange for these days, al
though such things may have been
common enough several hundred years
ago when people performed all sorts of
queer acts as peas nee. Seventeen
years ago Mrs. Louisa imams nuc
ha nd was stricken blind, and she vow
ed that if his sight were restored she
would walk on her bare knees from
her home to the church once a year to
give thanks for his relief. Her hus
band regained his sight, and the wom
an ha kept her row ever since, and Is
to be seen once a twelvemonth travers
ing a quarter of mile of atony road
on her knees.
South Africa's Curse.
Tbe South Africa colonists have got
rid of their lions and elephants, but
tbey have not yet been able to get the
better of the baboons, a oaooon, al
though somewhat like a dog, has all
the mlscblevousness of a man. It Is the
ugliest animal In all creation The
Boers call him Adonis and never des
ignate him under the official name that
has been given to him by science. Now,
this creature Is the curs of the Caps
Colony. He commits depredations for
the lovs of the thing. Any Impudent
tomcat that venture too far away
from home Is sure to be captured and
strangled for fun by a baboon. Near-
Iv all the Angoras, the choicest and
most costly animals Imported by tne
rolonlsts, have been destroyed by these
huge monkeys. Even the dogs share
the same fate. The bravest and most
pugnacious of the English canlnj
breeds are unable to cope with adver
saries armed with Just as powerful
laws and with the Immense advantage
of having four hands Instead of four
jaws. With a dexterity that consplc
ously exhibit It surgical aptitude, the
baboon bleed his enemy In the throat
and In less than a minute the duel ends
In the death of the dog. One of the
principal amusements of these big
monkeys la to gambol around the wire
fences that protect the tame ostriches
Just to terrify them. The panic among
them Is so great that they often break
their legs in their wild rushes. This
Is a oastlm which ths monkey seems
Midwinter In the Northwest.
Through all the dreary days the cold raint
pour,
Aad winter's chilling gnats make aullei
moan;
Their outstretched arms the tall pinei
raise and lower,
As if to silence that deep monoton.
N clear bird-voices thrill the solemt
wood.
And save tbe wailing wind there is ni
sound;
Where once the lilies In white beautj
stood
The rotting leaves now rebe the soddei
ground.
Tba slim, dead cedars standing on thi
height
Seem bony fingers pointing to tbe sky;
The maDle-treea ah, what a woefu
sight!
Mere skeletons that ever strive to die.
We look in vain for glowing sun at morn
At evening watch the dark blot ont thi
day.
And greet, mayhap, tbe old moon, pah
and worn
A groping ghost half seen through fold
of gray.
Woman's Home Companion.
Cost of Woman's Grrb.
While the New York papers bav,
been discussing why men do not marry
a society woman of that city says thiv.
no woman can be really wU dresset
on less than $25,000 a year.
Aa Ambltnona Term.
Tommy Paw, teacher wants us t
give a definition of a patriot.
Mr. Flgg WelL a patriot Is a mas
who does something for his country, oi
does his country for something. I are
not Just sure which. Indianapolis
Journal.
The Happy Man.
It Is said, to console a man who h
loses his money, that he is now In posi
tion to find out who are his friends
That is no consolation; a man Is happi
est when be doesn't have to know who
his friends are. Atchison (Kan.) Globe
" t sometimes under- - . r J0jine men havtjlost all fi'.-r
. I.1 mi.niimffirt .1. I i . 71 -J-- sJ '-,,! 1
tne low., J-.'- vaiueanamsu , vrl l.ir. :;:.r T j
great, and ascribe all their importance I ffa,-- -eiu.i- ...
oi mid inrr ,,,!-,, is y i
It must be V. o.
Stock ;uitr::j ,
r ... ,
solely to their wealth and rank. 8urely, In
sou Is.
cnaea tl.ia is desr.isinir their neighbor .atoCK-gammin
, ..;.' ,i.i i ..i. ki I Hogue
forgetting their common humanity, their
common dignity and their common origin.
To treat your neighbor with IndifTereuce, ;
as if there were no ties binding you to
gether, and no sympathy due from one to
the other, is to "despise him. The affini
ties of human nature are such thnt it Is
treason to place ourselves In proud isola
tion from the race to which we naturally
belong, and gaze upon the sufferings and
helplessness of our kind with stoi.-al in
difference. Such conduct is not only rep
rehensible, it is actually sinful. It is sin
ful because it is a great wrong done to
bumuiiitv. It rouses within man bitter,
bad. resentful feelings, which sets class
against class. Its tendency is to destroy
self-respect, and let n man once lose thnt
an l there is no telling what he may be
come. Again, to despise one's neighbor is an
cftenee ae.viitst social unity. Th social
organis e caa only be held" together by a
true uud proper recognition of the useful
ness and necessity of each individual to
the whole. Society is one body. Its mem.
hers are manifold, but they are all knit to
get her iu the closest bonds.
There is no such thing as real independ
ence. And hence for any man to despise,
his neiuhhor is Just as wrong and foolisu
as it would be for the head to say to the
feet. "I have no need of you; for his in
iluence, as far as it goes, operates to the
disorganization of society to the break
ing up of that unity aud sympathy upon
which the general hapiuess nnd well being
depend. Despising your neighbor is to
sin ngainst your own soul. By such con
duct the great forces ever operating for
the formation of your own character and
into the
small sum of mot
ing out a fortnne. Mnay
houest and safe l iisii: s
ket, and you are an .
not know that it is j n-; a
in stocks ns it is to .1. ,,
or flour. i!ut ne ir,v .
go there on a ''
all. The old s .
pecting tties. 1 t
hand on his hip-,
stance: "I have r. :
hundred ami I'f'.y :l..n.
home is to-dav eni:,!
matter? St' ei-gamo;;
gambling, whether
stuffs, or dice, or
Exhilaration at t!i
brain, and a shatter,
a saerilieed property
it the last. Young
tickets, purchase no
on no base-ball g i io
have no faith iu lu !:.:;:.
circulars, proposing gr
investments, drive a-v:i
hover around our !i. '
strangers. Go oat a
living. Have io l on
candidate for ln-av "i.
I paths of sin are ba-;:;o I
start, nnd there are
to fetch the gay ehnrg
hold the stirrup whi!
further on the horse i
a slough incxtric-iMo.
The best honey
Jonathnu took on tn
brought to his li; -. i
'O 'he -,,ie cnt
,o i:'; -;.T i: g to go
1. lie .'--U :!lg r.
-'.i,i,-' '-;' : k-
' a r- : a ii
. : : r
at
" - r.
v, . .it
i, his
Wis
It is not difficult for a man to be a
woman' ideal If he lives lu anothei
State.
There are usually a few flies on tb
honeyed phrases of lovers.
It was originally Intended to ha
neat music sung by the choir.
. . . , - .1 ..... nw.a ,. ! puis ou me pan
V' """'.VA which we are ail
This offence is also a sin against God.
Humanity Is His child the outcast nnd
the sinful as well as the poor. If you des-
Lise his child, He says: "Inasmuch as ye
ave done it unto one of the least of these,
ye have done It unto Me."
YV. II. Kf.ksiiaw,
Tastor First Congregational Church, Park
Kidge, X. J.
TRAPS FOR THE UNWARY.
Various 1'
ilfnll"
Br.
by the Rev.
man may sit at the
will he go down the sti
the refuse and lor.es
'Sweeter than honey -i.
says David, is tne i
5tonev out oi the r i -k
e. thee," says t;.. 1 i
Is honey gathered ;r.
trees of life, and wii
Ihe wood of the ( r
your souls.
laoFical
Ter "
ing
t.
Merry, though the stream is sti':!
'Neath the cold and trackless hill;
There the realms of Hesper glow;
Tw ilight lingers.
Shining fingers
Gild the sleeping fields of snow.
-Woman's Home Companion.
Tea Names Have Meaning;.
"Pekoe," in the Canton dialect, means
-white hair," and for this kind of tea
the very youngest leaves of all are
gathered, so young that the whHe down
of babyhood Is still upon thorn whence
their name. "Congo" means "labor;"
considerable trouble and pains are
taken In Its preparation at Amoy, and
these are perpetuated In It name. "Bo
hca" Is named after a range of hills In
I o-Kien; "Souchong" expresses no sen
timent, but a bold fact, being Canton-
ese for "the small kind;" "Hyson" sig
nifies "II parish! ng soring."
Kx posed
Talinnge.
Text: "I did but taste a little honey
with the end of the rod that was In my
hand, and, lo, I must die." 1 Samuel
xiv., 43.
The honey bee is a most ingenious archi
tect, a Christopher Wren among insects;
geometer drawing hexagons and penta
gons, a freebooter robbing the fields of pol
len nnd aroma, wondrous creature of God
whose biographv, written by Huber and
Swamrrerdam, is an enchantment for any
lover of nature.
Do you know that the swarming of the
bees is divinely directed? The mother bee,
starts for a new home, and because of this
the other bees of the hive get into an ex
citement which raises the heat of the hive
some four degrees, and they must die un
less they leave their heated apartments,
and they follow the mother bee and alight
on the branch of a tree, and cling to each
other and hold on until a committeeof two
or three bees have explored the region and
found the hollow of a tree or rock not far
off from a stream of water, and they here
set up a new colony, and ply their aromatiq
industries, and give themselves to the
manufacture of the saccharine edible, but
who can tell the chemistry of that mixture
of sweetness, part of it the very life of the
bee. and part of it the life of the fields?
rienty of this luscious product was bang
ing in the woods of Bethaven during the
time of Saul and Jonathan. Their army
-. in roii-snit of an enemy that by Gods
command must be exterminated. The
soldiery were positively forbidden to stop
to eat until the work was done. If they
dJsobsyed they were accursed. Coming
through the woods they found a plaes
where the bees had been busy a great
honey manufactory. Honey gathered ig
the hollow of the trees until it had over,
flowed upon the ground in great profusion
of sweetness. All the army obeyed orders
and touched it not save Jonathan.and he not
knowing the military order about abstin
ence dipped the end of a stick he had in
his hand into the candied liquid, and as
yellow and tempting It glowed on the end
of the stiok he put it to his mouth and ats
the honey. Judgment fell upon him, and
but for special intervention he would have
The Agile Vt
The moment tli.-a tt J
breaks its shell it is to
purposes as active :i It
during its life. It o ol
for the water, even if it h
find a good distance ff. a
ill
g T-a,.i-i'e
ll'etKS illlll
is at aii.v t ini"
bitiko strai.-ht
otir or" iigiit
1 it will pur
sue Its prey with eagerness nnd agility
duriug the Orst hour of its free ex.is.t-enee.
Cuit lire nl' r a n t y
Just a blossom or : .-, ..
screen leu vis. vlILi: It: oa ii.i
'Serfully. Teach t In- '.;!-!r.-i
In clover lil.a.th.s ,i .! ; I ..
the stra-'eful see I leads. ;:' m
oner flowers, it wui .
beauty in small things
the most of tlielr aitrton
tngton Star.
1 mi !i:
il 1 in-ill
ami to
lings.
MiJijt
e U nil
llflllg . with
ti-it
to see
ma lie
Wash.
r
He Thc.n.:hl It I"! o
"Don't use poor s. a;,." i
Patettie from the pa per iv
"poke-out" had been iio,
had been -writin' that," he
"I think I would hae loft out
word 'pore.'" Cinciuu.it! Kn'p.it er.
It I
i'e-l.
I!ig Pr ! I'.-:- a !;.. v.-i-r.
A New York li -r : I p.iol sjm.im'ii for
the sole rights to the .Michigan carna
tion known as "Mur 11a." It is a very
large flowefof a deep reij color.
Tommy Sny. Molllo". I w ish I bad 10
eent3 to got Rome eau.iy with. .Mollle--Go
and ask fa I her who Socrates was
nnd what Is meant by the differential
calculus. He's got company, and I
shouldn't wonder if he gave you a quar
ter. Boston Transcript.
J
1
isFical as4 I
---is- '
(
X:
J
-vs.
,7
(V