""ri - -4,' -,vvsir--' j ta i H . ! it B. F. SCHWEIER. : 1 THE CORSTITUTIOnTHE UniOn-AHD THE EHFORCEC3ERT OF THE LAWS. Editor and Proprietor. NO. 13. VOL. LH. MIFFjLIXTOWX. JUNIATA COUNTY, PEX3T., WEDNESDAY, MARCH 7,1900. Wig kit BY CHARLOTTE JtfTTfTTTfmwtn ii ii mn m n 1 1 1 ,,, ! , , , t , , . CHAPTER L .pair. The walls of the pretty county town of "I wonder, she said, "if ever a girl Harbury, in Kent, were all placarded had to choose between her father and with tlie name of Martin Kay Martin her lover before?" B(J the Kadical. the Reformer; -the' "Yes," he replied; "hundreds. As I Voice of the People." as he liked best to rule, they choose the lover; but yon ought ctU himself; the philanthropist the hater to . ti )orlyou ought not ef Queen and aristocracy, the teacher of lo . the of girisl I ex wa90n; the nan who worked for. yet more , Bred upon the people; the man who had inpwer ,et fa. k . u .enius, half madman, half poet, full o not t . 1 Jb, that you peat thoughts all distorted, of grand 0Te to decld b Hfe, Doris. M, low .U wrong; a man whose lips had dear, to dIsaDU8e e',f been touched by the d vine e of el.H tton Martin R u h .Kate, who could btir the hertta of the othlni of the kind H, u , , mis people a the wind stirs the leaves; a trable schemer, who lives npon the hare rr.n who had magnificent conceptions of -arninim !. i- . ii-.. what the world might be made; yet fail ed utterly in making them practical. He could be tracked easily as the flam ing fire that lays bare the prairie; wher ever he went he was followed by loud murmurs of popular discontent, and then came rot and imprisonment. In quiet hamlets, in sleepy Tillages, In peaceful towns, in factories, workshops and gar rets, his words fell, and set fire to those who listened. ir.. Tin! v o tPi.i .ii na.., V ribery at the elections. "There is sure to be a flaw in the armor there," thought Martin Kay; "it is the very place for a payin? lecture by the 'workingman's friend.' " So the walls of the old town were placarded with the name of Martin Kay, and the people thirsted to see the new ihanipi"D of popular rights. The largest placard of all was that op posite the house of Amos Hatton, the last descendant of what had once been a wealthy and powerful family. For gen erations they li ml faded and decayed; they had no louder houses or lands, nor even position; and Amos Hatton had been compelled to apply himself to one ol the professions. He was a solicitor, with a small but paying practice; and, being a stanch Conservative, the name of Mar tin Kay in large letters opposite to his door displeased him greatly. When he came down to breakfast on this tine May morning, there the words Were looking him defiantly in the face, while his pretty daughter Doris was gaz ing at them intently. "Pupa," she asked, "what is a Radi calV" The old lawyer's face flushed hotly. "I will not answer you until I feel calmer; to say the least of it, it is most atrocious to place that name there." The cirl looked at it with softened eyes. "Martin Kay is not a bad name, papa. I shoiiid like to hear bim," said Doris. "1 hare never beard a really eloquent speak er. May I go to the lecture 7" "I shall be ashamed if you do," replied the lawyer. But I 'oris laughed. .ot quite that, sir John Darke is f'jiiik'. with his wife and daughter. I should like'to go also." "Well, you can go, Doris that is, if y ou cousin will accompany you. Just I'ii.-e will not matter, and it will prove to you what nonsense such men talk. Go, but io not mention the man's name to no- again Doris Hatton was well pleased to go. the had all her life heard her father speak of Radicals as of a class of beings quite different from other men. Here was a chance of seeing the enemy, fart ly because she had nothing else to do. partly because fate or destiny led her, Doris Hatton went to the lecture. Looking over the sea of faces, chang Ing, brightening, or darkening under the fire or scorn of his words, Martin Ray saw one that lived in his heart for ever more a pale, refined, pretty face, with great, earnest eyes and a tender mouth, the face of a girl who must be a hero- worshiper by nature. It was like playing on some grand barpj touch what chords he would, the response was certain. After a while the girl's face held him captlv he found himself speaking to it, thinking of it, watching it as it changed and paled It was no longer himself and his audi ence, but-himself and this girl. He was rxpluning to her his doctrine, imbuing her mind with his ideas. AH nignt Martin Ray dreamed of one face, one pair of eyes. He tried to get an introduction at the house, but failed completely; Amos Hatton would not re ceive him. Still Martin Ray could not tear himself from the girl, and he found menus to meet her and to tell her how well be loved her. Doris Hatton was always inclined to take a romantic view of matters, and she made of the man a perfect hero. She lov rd Martin Ray with perfect love, such as he could have won from no other crea ture living. There was a long straggle iu her heart between allegiance to her father and this swift, sweet, new-born love; but, as this new teacher told her, the old landmarks were swept away; they existed no longer no father had a rik'ht to interfere with the marriage of L:s children. Through the sweet month of May. while the hawthorn bloomed on the hedges and the clover grew, he contrived to see her every evening. He found that H anbury was a good school. He found d a society, and taught the people what were n-orkingtnen's rights and wrongs lie !al.nr'l honestly enough, and in the Intervals of work he secretly wooed Doris Doris, w ho believed in his dreams and h. viMuQ. and who foresaw a time wben aii men would be equal, when poverty and toil would be done away with, and universal peace, charity, harmony and comfort reign. Martin Ray, her hero, was to bring about this. Amos Hatton stormed and raved when he received one morning a letter from Martin Kay. asking for his daughter's hnnd. Nothing could exceed his wrath and indignation. "You have good blood In your veins," he cried to the trembling girl. "Yon have ancestors who fought and died died, mind you for the king and country, and you ask me if you may marry the man w ho has boasted that, if no one else were found willing, he himself would behead every sovereign reigning." "I love him I cannot help It, papa. You saisjudge him." she answered, despairing y. "I must love him; no one under stands him but me." "You must choose between us, Doris," said her father, trying to speak calmly. "If you marry him I will never look upon rour face again; I will never speak to you or hear your Toice; you will be no child of mine; I will cast yon off from me." She ntterad a low cry of pain and de- a 7r EW,rr - ft- M. BRAEMeT earnings of the people he misleads, lou cannot understand his aims, papa!" she cried, despairingly. Amos Hatton gave his daughter a few lays to decide upon her fate in life. She took the decision into her own hands and married Martin Ray bnt not with hei father's consent or blessing. She stolt Jrom the house one sunny morning never to enter it again. She kissed her father n the evening before and never aaw hli "Klin, one mar- ned the man whom she believed to be . ,. . ! "7ea 10 hero, and reaped her reward. There was some little surprise and con- iiernaiion in liaroury wben It wai known that Doris Hatton had married the young demagogue whose appearance sad created a social whirlwind. Few understood the attraction that inch a man would have for a romantic, sentimental girl. Doris thought no lot ,n the world one-half so brilliant as hers. Amos Hatton was a broken-hearted man. He had but two children, and Jie loved them with the deepest possible love. His son Arthur, a handsome, spirited boy, eight years older than his sister, has chosen the army for a profession; and rjuite early In hia career he had received in excellent military appointment in In lia, where he was rapidly accumulating fame and fortune. Doris, his fair daugh ter, was the very pride of his heart. For ier the old lawyer had worked and toiled, inly to see himself forsaken for a man whom he hated and despised. His heart was bitter and his wrath was great. He wrote to his son In India, telling him what had happened, and bidding him to Irive all memory of his sister from him forever. Then Amos Hatton made an other will, in which he left all his prop erty to his son; and when he spoke of Doris it was as of one dead. Everything that had ever belonged to her piano, books, pictures, clothes, ornaments was sent after her. In the lawyer's pleasant, aid-fashioned house in Harbury not a trace was left of the daughter once so beloved. The three years that followed his mar riage were perhaps the most brilliant ot Martin Ray's life. The worship and adoration of his young wife stimulated bim. He positively began to believe him self what she imagined him to be. One morning when Amos Hatton opened his newspaper he saw a long account of a ;rand political meeting in London, and :he event of the day was the speech of Martin Ray. He read It. Bitterness, inger and regret filled his heart; he suf fered terribly. His emotion brought on i fit; and when his clerk went into the iffice he found him with his head on the :abie. The doctor who was hastily sum noned said that he had been dead for an jour. The news of his decease was sent to In lia, where his son Arthur grieved beart ly for him. According to his will, every :hing that he possessed house, furniture, pictures, plate, business, railway shares, nining shares was sold, and the money was sent to his son. Arthur took it, and doubled it in a few rears. He thought of bis little sister Doris with something like remorse, but iiade up his mind that when he returned :o England .he would seek her out, and it least share the money with her. So Amos Hatton was buried, and in lue time forgotten. Doris mourned long and deeply for him. She still believed in ter husband as a great hero and an ex cellent man. None of her illusions had jeen dispelled, and her happiness had leen crowned by the birth of two little laughters beautiful children, the elde.it if whom she had named Leah, and the lecond Hettie. She was wonderfully iappy, this sweet Doris, who thought no insband and no children equal to her wn. Cut off from all her former asso ciations and friends, thrown entirely on jer husband for society, no wonder that ler life narrowed and her world became .entered In him. It did not take her many years to find ut that her idol was of clay, to discover .hat he was no prophet, no martyr, that e cared little for the consequences of lis seditious language and the fire he put nto the hearts of the people, provided inly that he made money and lived in onifort. that his eloquence was a great natural gift which he would just as -beerfully have turned to any otner pur pose, that, stripped of aU the Ideal qual ities she had ascribed to him. he was imply a shrewd man of powerful intel lect, rather more egotistical and more ieltish than most of his fellows. Some wives live and die without either eeing their husband's faults or discern ng their weaknesses. It was not so with Doris. The time came when she stood ippaiied at what she had dons when the lap-trap sentiments that she had once hought so heroic and grand appeared to ler in their true light. The knowledge irought on a severe illness, and she died, eaving her two little daughters, Leah ind Hettie. But before she died ahc ,vroce a letter to ber far-off brother, own ng to him that her marriage had been a fatal mistake and praying mm w -barge of her children-to save Umw. to rescue them, if he could, from a fatal md unwholesome atmospnere m jest he could for them. He was Colonel Hatton wnen d the letter. He placed it wuu n w pers. intending to do what she asked, and U, the whirl of hia busy life forgot aU i bout it. CHAPTER IL No two girls ever had a arranger edu- tation and a more unequal uie Leah and Hettie Bay. 8o?fn,f; found themaelvea in the m dst of com fort and luxury. Then would come por- ,rty, squalor, common ioug.ua --"- jommon clothing; the want of even 1 the ,ecewarfoflife. During ' ifetlme they had been more eettled. they S.d lived ymj2jZ seen more uunormij - ,ow they never had a home for more than three month together, Then came a time of great trouble, of which they fortunately knew bnt little. When Leah was eleven and Hettie ten. Martin Hay, rendered desperate by what leemed to him long-continued peace and irder, made a speech which brought him under the iron grip of the law". He was tried and sentenced to three years' Im prisonment; and, in spite of aU that friends couid Jo, the sentence was car ried out. An old patron took pity on hia yonthf ul children. Sir John Falkner, a leading Radical, came to the rescue. He scut the r-hildten to a boarding school kept by a ?oor relative of his own a Miss Fairfax -who resided at Kew. He forbad any nention of their father's imprisonmen.; and the children were told that he was way from home absent on special busi ness, and wonld not return for a few rears. They believed it implicitly. They had some kind of an idea that their fath er was a great statesman, born to set the wrongs of the world right. If thy had been told that he had gone to dethrone the Czar of all the Rnasias, they would have believed It just as implicitly. Martin Ray waa released from prison when Leah was in her fifteenth year and Hettie still almost a child of fourteen. He was not grateful to Sir John. He ented apartments in Manchester. He in ended to educate the girls after his own fashion. Leah, who was gifted, clever tnd brilliant, he had meant to bring out is a lecturer; a beautiful young woinun ecturing on politics would be a novelty :hat wonld pay well. As for Hettie, there was plenty ot time to think over what .hould be done with her. Ieah was well read and thoughtful. he was a girl of magnificent talent, full if energy and the restless fire that pro claims genius. He had never told her what his intentions were with regard to aer: but one day he called her into tlit tniserable little room he dignified by the name of study to communicate his plan to her. "You have grown very beautiful. Leah," he said, looking at her quite calm ly "very beautiful; and it is time yon knew for what purpose heaven has sent ron that same beauty." The girl smiled and blushed. She did not remember that her father had ever lsed such words to her before. "You have a grand mission in life, Leah. You must not be as other girls: rou must not think that dress, gayety, enjoyment, love and marriage are the end ind aim of your existence. You have a Tar more important future In store for fOU." She looked up at him In wonder. "I did not know that I had any mls lion. father," she said quietly. "What s itr "The greatest. Leah, that ever fell to a woman. I have been preaching and tea cli ng all my life. I have given up every thing in this world for the cause of the people all my hopes, my ambition. I nave served them, lived for them, spent oiy life for them; and now, even as from the prophet of old, my mantle has fallen and it has fallen upon you." "I do not understand," she replied. "What am I to dor' "I will tell you," he said. "You must take my place. I can preach and teach no longer; you must do it for me. You ire young and beautiful; you have great talent; you have a clear, vibrating, sweet voice, that will make its way to the very hearts of men; you have the fire that be longs to genlns; you have a brilliant I ru mination indeed, I may say that you have every requirement; and a lady ora tor will be a novelty such, as is not seen very day." "What do you want me to be, father?" he asked slowly. "A teacher of the people," he replied, rraodiloquently. (To be continued.) Household. Cherry Souffle. Put In double botlei vr.e pint milk, one-half cup powdered agar, two heaping tablespoonfuls corn starch dissolved in a little milk and tir till thick (about five minutes): 'hen add one saltspoonful salt, the beaten whites of two eggs and the cher ries drained from a one-pint can; ro roove at once from Are and turn Into serving dish; thicken the cherry juice with one teaspoonful arrowroot and serve as sauce; drain cherries as dry la possible; excellent. Cream Muffins. One Dint of cream, two eggs, three cups of sifted flour, ine-hiilf teaspoonful of salt, one ta-. olispoonful of melted butter, two tca jpoonfuls of baking powder. Bent y olks of eggs and add cream; add this gradually to the flour, beat well and et stand 15 minutes: then add salt, m-lted butter, whites of eggs bearen tlifT and baking powder. Mix well and Uike 25 minutes. Fersillade Potatoes. Cut Into shape f large olives and boil potatoes in salted water until soft. Drain and irve with clarified butter at once. Crustades of Brussels Sprouts. Cut stale bread Into thick slices and rut again into fancy shapes. Cut Into the centre ot each, making a case for fill ing. Brush with melted butter an.1 brown in oven, then fill with Brussels sprouts that have been cooked twenty minutes in salted water, and pour well seasoned white sauce over all. Molded Cornstarch. One pint o! milk, three tablespoonfuls of corn starch, a pinch, of salt, three eggs, or.r letspoonful of vanilla. Scald the milk and stir into It the cornstarch dissolve 1 in a little cold milk. Cook fifteen mln tues. then add the egg yolks, sugar an rait beaten together. Stir until it tli.ckens again, then add the whit-s. w hlch have been beaten to a stlfT froth. Mix lightly together over the fire for one minute, then add vanilla and turn Into wetted molds. Serve with crean-.. cold. - Mush Cubes Make ordinary mu.-Oi of equal parts cornmeal and graham flour and pour into a mold; when cold rut into cubes, fry in hot fat like doughnuts: drain and serve with cream If preferred the mush may be sweet ened when first made. Useful Hints. In sewing and winding carpet rags double them with the right side up. Eggshells burned In the oven and placed upon the pantry shelves will lieep bugs away. Clothespins boiled a few minutes an:l quickly dried once or twice a month be come more durable. To give a good oak color to a pine floor wash in a oolution of one pound of copperas dissolved in one gallon of strong lye. Nic tablecloths and napkins should .lot be allowed to become much soiled, so that they will require vigorous rub- Ling Willi Buaii ur us, cs. . v Mahogany furniture should be wash ed witn warm water unu suttl,, an plfcation of beeswax and sweet oil upon a soft cloth, and polished with chaml gives a rich finish. A cooking teacher's test for the frying point of hot fa Is to drop in it a smai! piece of bread. If the bread browns oil both aides while forty can be count ed it is the right temperature for cook ed f'Vls like croquettes, fish ba-Hs. etc THE FUNNY MAN. i 1 "5xT n ILH AM WID I CX-ZV I II r a-er. at hia desk In the Dally Record office, paused one morning In the ex ercise of pre par tag the humorous column and groan ed, gently, but with unmistakable earnestness. Perkins, at the adjoining d e k . looked at aim in amazement Never before, during his two years of professional contiguity to Wldger, had he observed a similar dem onstration. He mentioned the fact at once. "It Is nothing," aald Wldger; "that K It Is nothing serious. I came near writ ing a real poem Instead of a Jingle, that Is all." "I call that rather serious," aald Per kins. "Heavens! Billy, yon must go slow. You're en the verge of some thing. A chap of your talent cannot be too careful." "So?" said Wldger lazily. "You make me weary. Perk. What do you know about poetry and Ita relation to neu rotic exhaustion. Do you consider the production of real poetry an Indication of weakness at the nerve center. Do you " "No. but see here. Billy; I've pre pared the 'Hints to Housekeepers and the 'Food and Health' columns for this paper regularly for three years now, and " "You have also prepared the 'Aunt Jerusba's Talks with Girls" column." Interrupted Wldger. "You are a vile humbug. Perk.' "No more so than you. Billy. Don't wound my sensitive heart, kind friend, I pray you. The Record is avowedly the most popular paper In the Missis sippi Valley among the women. Why! TIs I. Billy, me. Who tells the women how to cook. And make their homes successful: Whs tells them how that pimply look Is rendered less distressful. Me. Billy. I-Oswood K. Perkins, the poor orphan, who wouldn't know bow to act If be had a home. That' the secret of my success. Billy; I'm orig inal." "Because you do not know any bet ter." "Exactly. But as to yourself. You're supposed to be funny. Your stuff la well liked. Some people actually laugh at It. Your verses Jingle pleasantly, and your paragraphs are redolent of ginger. You hold your Job. You eat But, Billy, dear, 'twould be very dif ferent If you should blunder Into poet ryreal poetry, as you call It You'd lose your Job. You'd cease to eat Your nerves, deprived of the food they crave, would become toneless, snap less. Prostration, agony, lingering death, nnwept. unhonored. unsung. Don't do It Billy." Wldger smiled. "Perk," said he, "you are a freak. BuLyou are wise yon must be or you wouldn't be able to humbug the women aa you do. You are also a gentleman, and I believe a good Judge of" "Whisky r "No, poetry." "TJm-m I don't know." "I do. Read that and tell me what rou think." Perkins took the proffered sheet with affected timidity, and looked at It from the corners of bis eyes. Then he hand id It back. "It's pretty bad. Billy," said he hon estly. "I don't think I ever read worse. Memory grim doth rend my heartstrings. Cruelly with Angers pink, is but little short of positive disease. Do you feel perfectly well, old man?" "Yes, I am well. enough, but I am de pressed In spirit Do you suppose. Perk" glancing at the clock "that If I gave you my confidence for about fif teen minutes It would seriously inter fere with the glorious work you are do ing for benighted women? I think It Would make me feel better." "Nothing," replied Perkins firmly, "can interfere with that Go ahead, eld man." . He sat back In his chair with an In dex finger on either side of bis nose his characteristic attitude when In re pose, as he once Informed the Record's cartoonist wben that brilliant but mis guided young man begged bim for a "sitting" while Wldger slowly gath ered the sheets from his desk and tore them Into strips. "You know where I came from. Perk?" he asked, dropping the strips bits the waste basket. "St Paul, Billy. You didn't know the letter J from a bole In the ground, and you considered Minneapolis mere ly a short chapter In mythology. "Yes." said Wldger. "At St Paul, I worked on the Evening Gazette and my duties were as the sands of the sea. 1 did everything, from beary editorial to the hotels, and between Jumps I fell in love. It may not altogether be my fault Some men are born lovers, some cultivate the tendency, and some have It thrust upon them. It was thrust upon me. And the maiden's name was Smith." "Smith Smith," mumbled Perkins; "In all the bright lexicon of youth there la no such word as go on, Billy." "She was a nice girl, as girls go,'' continued Wldger, "well set head, non- t pareil liody. good clear face and the daughter of her father, who owned the Gazette. She was accustomed to spend ing an hour or two each day at the of fice, and I bad not talked with ber many times before I experienced a strange sensation. I did not know what to call it. I suppose it was love, but never said a word about it to her. I reasoned that It would be too pre sumptuousmight lose me my situa tion. ' "l did not know then that I was qual ified to do anything better In the nevs paper line than to grind on the Gazette at ground pay. I made myself wretch ed at times wishing she wonld keen li-2ft till Cm away rrom the office, so that I might forget her. But I drew a long breath of relief the next time she appeared, tnd answered ber questions about this tnd that thing Journalistic, and listened to her blissfully wben she told me what a glorious profession she thought It and what an ornament to It she considered me. "She sounded me frequently on my ambitions, and I told ber freely what were my hopes. " You are wedded to your work, abe said to me one day. " 'I am. I replied. "Then she looked at me with an ex pression which I did not understand and changed the subject I never saw her outside of the office. I was prac tically penniless, and she was accus tomed to luxury. I was not In society. Our lives bad little In common. I loved ber. The thing for me to do, as a sensi ble person, was to make the best of it silently, and I did so. Did I do right Perk?" "Precisely. Billy. Get along." "Well, after a while her engagement to one of the great nen of the city name Jones was announced, and It fell upon my harrowed soul with much the gentleness of a thunderclap. I felt bad. Perk, but at the same time I felt glad glad that. I had not made an ass of myself. "I had been sorely tempted, heaven knows. At the first opportunity she had dropped into the office to reload her camera In the coat closet I shook bands wtth her and told ber as clearly as I could not knowing what to say how delighted I was. and, sir. she turn ed squarely about without a word and left me high and dry. looking every bit 1 doubt not. as foolish as I felt That was In January. The wedding was to occur In June. "I worked like a cold weather fly and tried to forget her. I succeeded pretty well. Her visits to the office had ceased with my well-meant congratulatory performance, and this made it easier for me, although my heart beat like shorthand whenever I beard a female voice from the private office, and the sudden swish of skirts caused me to Jump violently. But I did not see her agalu until May three weeks before the wedding. She had been In Chicago, I believe, paying a farewell visit to a schoolmate, and Incidentally " "Never mind that Billy," Interjected Perkins. "You don't know what she was doing Incidentally. Come to the point" Wldger bowed gravely. "All right. Perk. I thank you. I was alone In the office one stormy night, fixing up a string of airy falsehoods for the next day, wben the telephone bell rang like forty fires. I put the receiver to my ear. held It there for perhaps a minute, yelled yes' Into the transmitter, bolted Into my overcoat and turned ont the light "I waa at O., S. and X. shops five minutes later, and, swinging onto the rear platform of the caboose attached to a wrecking train. In an hour I was on the scene of the worst railway swash-up In the history of Minnesota. j "Ever see a splintered passenger train 'at night Perk white faces staring at I you by lantern light groans seeming to rise out or the earth, steam, smoke, horror? I never realized until that night what an awful thing darkness Is darkness to which there Is no limit that almost suffocates a man and strikes him blind. Time and again I involuntarily passed my band before my face to clear a way In the black ness for my eyes. "There was a station not far away, and after getting what Information I could I took my way In that direction to get off some disptches for the first editions of the morning papers, stum bling along as best I could, yearning for light light light And. Perk, I I there was light "Celestial fire. Billy?' "Something like It. I stumbled over a body finally. I had been dreading It. and praying that I might be ateered clear of that sort of obstacles. It gave ant the faintest kind of a moan when I struck It, and I. recoiled as much as fifteen feet I think. Then I took a tirm grip on myself and approached It tgain, because that seemed to be my Juty. "The man or woman, whichever It was, had evidently crawled out of the wreck and tried to go somewhere. It had failed wretchedly. It was lying In the long, wet grass at quite a little dis tance from the track. It might not be found for hours If I passed it by. Nev ertheless, I hesitated. I confess it with shame. "Then I knelt by its side and passed my bands over Its cold, rain-washed face and bedraggled hair. It was a woman. I put my finger to its pulse. It was alive. "The flutter of the straining hear! acted like a strong stimulant npon me. I lifted the limp form In my arms and felt my way onward to the station. II was a long walk .and a hard one, not unfraugbt with danger, for there was a bridge to be crossed, but I reached the end at last and passed Into the light of the waiting-room, and and and. Perk. It was she. I bad been .arrylng ber In my arms all that dis tance. "I believe they considered ma Insane wben I laid her npon the operator's bed and looked Into her face. For aa In stant my strength went from me to the last ounce and I all but collapsed; then It came back In a mighty wave, and I suppose 1 did act like a maniac. "She had an old-fashioned locket In her hand,' fastened about ber neck by a ribbon, and she held It to her Hps rigidly, .as she bad beld It when she was fainting In the long, wet grass. I'erk. I cannot tell yon how I felt I " "Don't try. Billy. Keep to your story." "A train arrived shortly with doc tors, and one of them pushed me from her side by force he had to as force and cut the ribbon and removed her hand from her month. Be aald some thing about respiration aa be did It and looked at the locket curloualy. "Open if said he. unclasping her fingers; "It may identify her.' "I opened It I opened It Perk, aad and It contained my own picture a" pi' tor aba had taken herself without z 4 knowledge. "I put In Into my pocket No one no ticed, far other victims were brought In then, and the place waa In a turmoil. Then I went ont Into the rate, and walked and walked, kissing that bau ble over and over again, tt waa day light when I aaw her again, and she was being assisted to the train that was to take her home. She seemed little the worse for the shock she had suffered. Her face waa very white that was all." "Didn't yon speak to her?" "Yes. I spoke to her; but Jones was with her, his arm about ber waist and ber father was close behind her. laden with wraps, and and I only said: How-de-do. Miss SmlthT and swallow ed my heart "The Gazette nearly got scooped ot the story of the wreck. They depend ed on me to fix tt np. and for some rea son or other I forgot It I resigned my position the next day, and came down here to do humor. I did not dare to at tempt anything else, for fear of goiug into a decline. I have been fairly well contented, bnt once In a while. Perk. I get down In the mouth. I found this in one of the papers from up there this morning." He drew a clipping from his pocket and tossed It upon the desk. Perkins read It: "Um-m 'Born, a boy to Mr. and Mrs John Jones," eh? Well, what of It. Billy? Didn't you think It possible?" "Yes. but Perk" and there was a note of genuine sorrow in Widger's voice "she she will forget me entirely now." Perkins laid his hand lightly upon Widger's shoulder for an instant. "Go to work, Billy," said he. softly. "It Is better so." "Yes," assented Wldger. "it Is bettei so." He breathed deeply and turned again to his jokes and jingles. Philadelphia Press. Florence Nlgbtlnaal. Within a stone's throw of Hyde Park. In London, In an unpretentious dwell ing house Just four stories high, Flor ence Nightingale is now spending her declining years. The room In which she Is confined is large and airy, and Is always decorated with flowers brought by appreciative friends whose aim is to brighten ber surroundings. At the head of her bed a shelf Is placed, and on this all her favorite books have been con veniently arranged. Here, too, her writing materials are within eaay reach, and alongside of these one may see a pile of reports from the home founded 4 her name, which. If it were needed, tends to show where even to day ber heart Is. Between these, ber reading, and the feeding of the birds she has tamed, that come twittering to the casement, and even hop onto the sill, she occupies her time with that patient resignation which bespeaks a godly life. Florence Nightingale still suffers from the great and continued mental and bodily strain that her Crimean services put upon her, but by her unselfish sacri fice she has made It Impossible for the armies of Great Britain to ever again suffer from such horrifying calamities as those that she witnessed, suffered and endured. Woman's Home Com panlon. Their Remarkable Record. - It would be well if all families could point to as creditable a history In point of freedom from domestic broils as that of Deacon Kendrick, of Dashvllie. The good deacon and bis wife were celebrating their fiftieth wedding anni versary. A large concourse of rela tives and friends had assembled at the old homestead, a splendid dinner had been served and eaten, and the speech es, without which no anniversary of this kind Is considered to be complete, were In progress. "In all these fifty years, my friends." said Neighbor Brown. In the course of his remarks, "as I have been told a hundred times and believe to be true, our venerable friend and bis wife have never exchanged a cross word. Is It not so. Deacon?" : "Yes, tbat'a true," replied the deacon. "Is It not so. sister?" asked Mr. Brown, addressing Mrs. Kendrick. "Yes," she replied, with a twinkle in ber eye. "Abner may have given me a cross word now and then, but I've never answered back." Bha Yearned for the Romantic. "Why did you leave your last place Maryr "Oh, I Just couldn't bear it. The man and his wife lived very happily to gether, and that made It so dull and un interesting for me." Fliegende Blaet ter. The Wuw or Haytt. The Aid Your excellency, tasre Is another cruiser In the offing. The President of Hsytl Heavens anC earth! Another one of those Interns' foreign collectors! The Aid I can't make out hia Bag your excellency. The President Oh, It don't make any difference. They all take turns In com ing. Tell him to call again the first of the month. The Aid But they always laugh when I say that and tell me they'll blow the cover off the whole Island if yon don't settle Ins tan ter. The President I suppose I'll have to, but by gum! If this tbing Is going to keep np well all have to go through the International bankruptcy court and commence over again. Cleveland Plain Dealer. Aaeiewt Muwcript HetrloosM. John Bentler of Wapakoneta, Ohio, has manuscripts and books that have been handed down from father to son since the ninth and sixteenth centuries. He has original maatMcrtpta of the code of Justinian too Great emperor of Rome, written in the latter part of the fifth century. He also has original manuscripts of the annals ef C. Corne lius Tacitua, the Soman historian, writ ten in Greek, about the middle of the ninth century. SERMON it Rt9. Br. Calmagc tab set: A KsHglra mt QhasU Spirit. Bllsna DwMmncad mm IfMromanev and - DalulM-la Ulsclplas Arm limnl. It Ciiw lnaully Amu- Its Victim. tOapyrutbt IMS. Wisniaoffoit, D. C. In this discount. Dr. Tatmage discusses a theme never mort under exploration than at this time nt! warns people against what he calls a re ligion of gboata; text, I Samuel xxvill., 1. "Bebold, tbero is woman that bath a familiar spirit at En-dor. And Maul dis guised himself and put on other raiment, and he went, and tvo men with him, and they eatne to the woman bv night" Trouble to the right of him and troublt to the. left of bim. Haul knew not what to do. As a last rtisort bv coucludsd to seek out a spiritual medium or a witch or any thing that yon please to call her a woman who had communication with the spirits of the eternal world. It was a very diffi cult thlug to do, fot Saul had either slain all the witches or compelled t ham to stop business. A servant one day said to King Saul. I know ot a spiritual medium down at the village ot En-dor." "Do you," suld tne king. Night falls. Haul, putting off bts kingly robns and putting on the draaa ol a plain citlsen, wlch two servants, goes out to hant np this medium. Sanl sod bis servants after awbtl reached the village, unit they say, " wonder It this Is the bouse," aud they look in, and they see the haggard, weird and shriveled up spiritual meilluiu slttiug by the light and on the tnblo sculptured Images and divining rods aud poisonous berks and bottles nod vases. They say, "Yes, this most be the iduoe." One loud rap brings the woman to the door, and aa she stands there, holding the candle or lamp above ber head nu'l pouring out Into the darkueas, she says, "Who Is here?" The tall king Informs ber that be has ccm to bave bis fortune told. When she hears that, sha trembles and almost drops the light, for she knows there Is no chance for a fortune teller or spiritual medium In all the land. But Saul having sworn that uo harm shall some to ber, she says, "Well, who shall I bring up from the dead?" Haul says, "Bring up Hamnel." That was the frophet who bad died a little while before, see her waving a waud, r stirring uo some poisonous herbs in a caldron, or hear her muttering over some Incarna tions, or stampiug with bar foot a sha cries ont to the realm of the dead: "Samuel, Samuel!" Lo, the freezing hor ror! The floor of the tenement opens, aud the gray hairs float up aud the forehead, the eyas, the lips, the shoulders, the arms, the feet the entire body of the dead Samnel wrapped in sepulchral robe, a( pearlng to the astonished group, who stagger back and bold fast and catoL their breath and shiver with terror. The dead prophet, white and awful from the tomb, begins to move his ashen lips, and be glares npon King Haul and criaa out: "What did you bring me up for? What do you mean. King Saul?" Saul, trying to compose and control hlinsulf, makes this stammering and affrighted utterance as he says to the dead prophet: "The Lord is against me, and I have coma to yon for help. What shall I do?" The dead prophet stretched forth bis finger to King Saul and said: "Die 1,,-morrowl Come wtth me Into the sepulcher. I am going now. Come, come with me!" Aud, lo, the floor again opens, and the feet of the dead prophet disappear aad the arm and the shoulders and the forehand! T ie floor closes. OH, that was an awful seanepl To nnlatch the door between the preseut state and the future state all the fingers of superstition bave been busy. We hnve books entitled "Footfalls on . the Boun daries of Other Worlds," "The Debatable Land Between This World and the Next," "Researches Into the Phenomena of Npir itnslism" and whole libraries of hocus reus, enough to deceive the very elect, shall not take time to rehearse the his tory of divination, Del p bio oraclo, sibyl or palmistry or the whole centuries of Im posture. Modern splritunltsm proposes to open the door between this world and the next and put us Into communication with the dead. It baa never yet offered one reason able credential. When I find Saul In my text consulting n familiar spirit, I learn that splrltuull m is a very old religion. Spiritualism in American was born in the ye:irl47. In Hydesvllle, Wayne County, N. Y., wben one night there was a loud rap heurd against the door of Michael Weekman; a rap a second time, a rap a third time, and all three times. When the door was opened, there was nothlug fouud there, the knocking having boeu made seemingly by Invisible knuckles. After awhile Mr. Fox with his family moved Into that house, and then they hn-l hangings at the door every night. One night Mr. Fox cried ont, "Are you a. spirit?" Two raps nnsxer In the amrinutive. "Are you aa injured spirit?" Two raps answet in the affirmative. Then they knew rltrlit away that It was tba spirit of a ped ller who had been murdered in that house years before and who had been robbed ol his t&OO. Whether tbesplrit of the pajdlet came back to collect bis 500 or bis boues I do not know. Theexeitement spread. There was a uni versal rumpus. Tbe Hon. Jadge Edmonds declared In a book that be had actually seen a bell start from tbe top shelf of a closet, beard it ring over the people that were standing In tbe closet: then, swung by Invisible bands, It rang over tbe people iu the back parlor and floated through the folding doors to tbe front parlor, rang over the people there and then dropped on the floor. A Senator ot the United Slates, af terward Governor ot Wisconsin, had bin bead quite turned wit h spiritualistic demon, stratlons. The tables tipped, and the stools tilted, and tbe bedsteads raised, an. I the chairs upset, and It seemed us If the spirlit everywhere bad gone Into tho furniture business! "Well," tbe people snhl," we have got something new In this country. It Is a new religion!" Oh, no, my friend, thou sands of years ago, we find in our text, a spiritualistic seance! Nothing In the spiritualistic circles of our day has been more strange, mysterious and wonderful than things which have been seen In past centuries of the world. In all ages there bave been necromane -n, those who consult with the spirt s of the departed; charmers, thosa who put their subjects in a niesmerie stnta; sorceren, those who by tsking poisonou- drug se everythtcg -and bear everything and tell everything; dreamers, people who In their sleeping moments can sea the future world and bold consultation with spirits. Yes, before the time of Christ, the Brahman- went through all the table moving, all the furniture excitement, which tbe spirits have exploited In our day. precisely the same thing over and over again, under the manipulation of tba Brahman-. Now, do you say that spiritualism Is different from these? I answer, all these delusions I bave mentioned belong to the same family. They are exhumations from tba unseeu world. What does Ood think ot all these delu sions? He thinks so severely of them that He never speaks of them bnt with livid thunders of indignation. He says, "I will be a swift witness n;alnst the sorcerer." He says. "Thou Shalt not suffer a witch to live." And last yoa might make some Im portant distinction between spiritualism and witchcraft God says In so many wonls, "There shall not be among vou a eonsultei of familiar spirits, or wixard, or necro mancer, for they that do these things are an abomination unto tbe Lord." The Lord God Almighty in a score ot passages which I bave not now ttire to quote utters His In dignation against all this great family of delusions. After that be a spiritualist II you dare! Yoa lose a friend; yon want tbe spir itual world opened, so that yon may have communication with him. In a highly wrought, nervous aad diseased Mate ot mind yoa go and pot yourself In that communication. That Is why I bate spiritualism. It takes advantage of one la a moment of weakness, which may come upon as at any time. We lose a friend. Tbe trial Is keen, sharp, auffoeatlng, almost maddening. If we eoaid . mArsnal a host had ttorm. tb eternal world and recapture our loved one, the host would soon be mar haled. The bouse is so lonely. Tba world Is se dark. Tba separation Is so Insufferable. But spiritualism says, "We will open the future world, and your loved one can coma back and talk to yon." Though wa may not hear his voice, wa may hear the rap ot his hand. So, clear tbe table. Sit down. Put yonr hands on tbe table. Be vary quiet. Five minutes gone. Ten minutes. No motion ot tbe table. No response from the future world. Twenty minutes. Thirty minutes. Nervous excitement all tba time Increasing. Two raps from tba tutors world. The letters ot tba alphabet are called over. Tba departed friend's name Is John. At the pronunciation of the let ter J two raps. At the pronunciation of the letter O two raps. At the proonncla- tlon of tbe latter H two raps. At the pronunciation ot the letter N two raps. There yoa have the whole name spel ad out J-o-h-n, John. Now, the spirit being present, you say, "John, are you happy?" Two raps give an affirmative answer. Many years ago the steamer Atlantlo started from Europe for the United States. Getting mldoeean, tbe maoblnery broke, and she floundered around day after day and week after week, and for a whole month after she was due people wondered and finally gave bar up. There was (treat anguish In tne cities. lor msre were many who bad friends aboard that vessel. Soma of the woman in their distress went to tha spiritual medium and Inquired at to the fata of that vassal. The medium called up the spirits, and tbe rapplngs on tha table indicated the steamship lost, with all ou board. Women went raving mad aud were carried to tbe lunatic asylum. Attar awbtla one day a gun was beard off quaran tine, Tne nags went up on toe snipping, and the bells of tha churches were ruug. Tha boys ran through the streets crying: "Extra! Tha Atlantic Is safe!" There was the embracing as from tha dead when friends came again to friends, but soma of thosa passengers went np to find their wives in tha lunatic asylum, where this ebaat of infernal spiritualism bad put them. I bring against thU delusion a mort. fearful Indlotment It ruins tha soul Im mortal.' first. It makes a man a quarter of an infidel; then tt makes him halt an in fidel; then It makes bim a whole Infidel. If God Is ever slapped in the face, it Is wben a spiritual medium puts down bar band on tbe table. Invoking spirits de Darted to make a revelation. God has told you all you ought to know, and bow dare you Da prying into tnat wuiou is none oi your business? Yoa cannot keep tbe Bible in one hand and spiritualism In tbe other. One ortbe other will slip out of your grasp, depeud npon It Spiritualism is adverse to tbe Bible, In the fact that it lias In these lust days called from the future world Christian men to testify against Christianity. Its mediums call buck Lorenzo Dow, tba celebrated evantreiist, and Lorenzo Dow testifies that Christians are Idolaters. Spiritualism calls back Tom Paine, and ha testifies that he is stopping In the same house In heaven with John Bunyaa. They call back John Wesley, and be testifies against tha Christian religion, which he all bis life gloriously presetted. Andrew Jackson Davis, the greatest ot all tbe spiritualists, comet to the front and de clares that tha NewTastament Is but "tha dismal echo of a barbaric age" and tha Bible only "one ot the pen and ink relics of Christianity." I bava in my house a book used In spir itualistic service. It contains a catechism and a hymn book. The catechism has these questions and answers: Q. What I our chief baptism? A Fre quent ablution In water. Q. What Is our Inspiration? A. Fresh air and sunshine. Q. Wbat is oar love feast? A. Clear conscience and sound sleep. Q. Wbat Is our prayer? A Physical ex ercise. And then It goes on to show that a groat proportion of their religious service Is a system of calisthenics. Then when they waut to arouse tha devotion of the peoplo to tha highest pitch they give out the bym on the sixty-flftb page: Tbe night hath gathered up ber silken fringes. Or, on the fifteenth page: Come to the woods, heigh hot "But," says some one, "wouldn't It be of advantage to hear fron the future worl I? Dnu't you think It would strength en Christians? There are a great many materialists who do not believe there are souls, but If spirits from the future world should knock and talk over to na they would be persuaded." To that I answer la tbe ringing words of the Hon of GoJ, "If tbey bolieved not Moses and tbe prophets, neltber will they be persuaded though one rose from tbe dead." I believe these are the days of which tbe apostle spake when he said, "In the latter times some shall depart from the faith, giving need to seducing spirits." Audi ences In this day need to bave reiterated in their bearing tbe passages I quoted soma minutes ago. "There shall not be among you a consul tr of familiar spirits, or wizard, or necromancer, for they that do these things are an abomlnatlou uuto tha Lord," and, "Tha soul that turuetb after auoh as bave familiar spirits I will set Myself against them, and they shall be cut off from their people." But I Invite you now to a Christian seance, a noonday seance. Tbia congre gation is only one great family. Here Is tbe church table. Come around tbe church table; take your seats for this great Chris tina seance; put your Bible on the table, put your hands on top of the Bible and then listen and hear If there are any voices coin ing from the eternal world. I tbink there are. Listen! "Secret things belong unto the Lord, our God, but things that are re vealed belong unto us and to our chil dren." Surely that Is a voice from tbe spirit world. But before you rise from this Chris tian soaac 1 want you to promise me yoa will be satisfied with the Divine revelation autll the light of the eternal throne breaks upon your vision. Do not go after the witch ot En-dor. Do not sit down at table rapplngs either In sport or la eirnest. Teuob yoar children there are no ghosts to be seen or beard In this world save thosa which walk on two feet or four buniau or bestial. Remember that splrituali-tm at the beit Is a useless tiling, for it It tells wbat tbe Bible reveals tt Is a superfluity, and If It tells what tbe Bible does not re veal It is a lie. Instead of going to get other peoplo t J tell your fortune tell yoar own fortune by putting your trust in God and doing the best yoa can. I will tell your fortune. "All things work together for good to them tbat love God." Insult not your departed friends by asking them to come down and c rabble under aa extension table. Re member tbat there Is only one spirit whose dictation you bava a right to Invoke, and that Is tbe holy, blessed and omnipotent spirit of God. Hark! He Is rapping now, not on a table or tha floor, but rapping on tba door of yonr heart, and every rap Is an Invitation to Christ and a warning of judgment to come. Oh, jrrleve Him not awayl Quench Him not. He has been all around you this mornlug. He was all around you last nlgbt. He has been around you all your lives. Harkl There eomes a voice with tender, overmastering Intonation, saying: "My spirit shall not always strive." Necessity may render a doubtful act Innocent but it cannot make it praise worthy. To let a man know you recognise and rejoice in some good quality of his. Is to blees him with a new heart The coward capitulates by changing front before the enemy. The superior man Is satisfied and composed; the mean man Is always full of distress. The easiest man to convince Is the one who is the most ready to say "No." Continued prosperity Is apt to make of a man a fool or a rascal. They that know no evil will suspect none. Don't trust the man who has always got some great secret to confide in you. We hand folks over to God's mercy ana snow none ourselves. I Sudden wealth seldom comes by hon esty. The superior man has dignified ease without pride; the mean man has prMks without dignified ease. I, 0 s I a ,t D . I ' St ! t ' S I at u 1 J : r5''ri'tat:-' '-Ira.-. '
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers