VOL- xxxvii
Mrs. J. E. ZIMMERMAN.
Jackets, Capes and Jacket Suits.
All $5.00 and $6.00 jackets, $2.94.
All $7.50 and 8.50 jackets, 3.98.
All SIO.OO and 12.00 jackets, 4.98.
All $ 12.50 ladies' jacket suits, 7.98.
All $15.00 ladies' jacket suits, 9.50.
All $20.00 ladies'jacket suits,l2.so
One lot of ladies' jacket suits, 4.98.
One lot of ladic-s' jacket capes —regardless of cost.
All Wool Blankets. Haps and Cotton Blankets.
All wool plain red and gray blankets—sl.9o, real value 2.75.
All woul plain white and gray blankets —$2.25, real value 3.
All wool plain red, black and' white, red and black $2.40, teal
value 3.50.
All better blankets at $2 98, 3.75 and 5.00, former prices
4.50, 5.00 and 6.50
All bed haps—7sc sl, 1.50, 2, former prices 1.00, 1.50, 2.00
a - d 2.50.
All cotton blankets —45c, 65c, 90c, former prices 50c, 75c, sl.
One lot $1 C. B. corsets at 59c.
Of! Der on all w ° ol Underwear, including
fcU cent, 1160UCIIOM Men's. Women's and Children's.
Mrs. J. E. Zimmerman.
Clean-up Sale
Continued!
6 0 Balance of January Oevoted to Bargain Selling. 0 0
Our stock is still too large for invoicing
and must be further reduced.
CLOAKS ALMOST GIVEN AWAY.
Special Clean-up Prices on Silks, Dress Goods,
Table Linens, Crashes, Underwear and Hosiery.
ALL WINTER GOODS SACRIFICED.
REMNANT SALE
Hundreds of Remnants of all kinds of Dry Goods
and ail odd lots at bargain prices.
L. ST EI IN Sc SO IN,
108 N. MAIN STREET, BUTLER, PA
■.— A i
S22S. K E522! IT, guff
£ Men don't buy clothing for the _ 1 /ILf I J]
,1 tpose or spending money. They
7 ?to get the best possible results for the £ »'*» vr &' f
7 Cmoney expended. Not cheap goods/§C / <|K J jfaf'#i |
3 tbut goods as chenp as they can
7 for «nd made up properly. If*?! JPLxiifiS 1 ]
V Cyou want the correct thing at the IA I
J trect price, call and examine ouO&. 1 \ | t
' J large stock of Heavy Weights, Fall \ w i'S&y \jj ;
7 fand Winter Suitings and Overcoats ofv?C \ I i
& the latest Styles, Shades and Colors \j , /T*jj W'ji |
A. —AI if j In
Fits and Workmanship lj 11 $4 V/ty
Guaranteed
G F. Keen,
142lNorth|Main Street, Butler, Pa
»
'fl PAPES. JEWELERS. Is
5l # * # m
k J DIAMONDS, J
t WATCHES, J o
tS # CLOCKS, \
o 5 JEWELRY, j £
£! SILVERWARE, ?
* i SILVER NOVELTIES, ETC. j 3
u. # We repair all kinds of 2
° ? Broken Watches, Clocks, Jewelry, etc J JJ]
co # Give our repair department a trial. £
z t We take old gold and silver the same as cash. £
z\ PAPE'S, i|
J 122 S. Main St., Butler, Pa. £ g
Stop and Think Before You Act.
Where are you going to buy your
WALL PAPER?
Our Mammoth new line for 1900 is arriving daily. Never be
fore have you seen its equal in designs, colorings, quality and price.
We can please you. Call anil see before you buy.
Picture and Mirror Framing a Specialty.
Paints, Oils, Varnishes,
Room Mouldings, and Window Shades.
Patterson Bros.,
236 North Main Street, Butler, Pa
Wick Building. Peoples' Phone 400
subscribe for the CITIZtN!
THE BUTLER CITIZEN.
Adds His Evidence
! STORY IS THE SAME AS FROM
OTHER SOURCES.
! Lots of Money Spent but no Returns
Have Be°n Received.
1 The people in Pennsylvania willingly
I add their evidence to that which has al
' ready been given in favor of Morrow's
Kid-ne-oids, the best remedy that has
ever been sold in this state for backache,
kidney ami urinary disorder?, sleepless
ness and nervousness. Our d-uggists re
port wonderful cures and state that Kid
ne-oids are daily increasing in the opin
ion of our people. Kid-ne-oids act di
rectly upon the kidneys and nerves and
restore them to their natural condition.
Good kidneys make good blood, trood
blood makes strong nerves, Kid-ne-oids
make good kidneys and strong nerves.
Mr. John Beiglitol, 125 Du Hois street,
Du Bois, Pa., says:—For years I was
troubled with kidney disorders, and dur
ing this time I tried different kinds of kid
ney remedies, but neyer found anything
that gave me relief like Morrow's Ki<!-
ne-oids. Before taking Kid-ue-oids I
suffered with a dull heavy pain in the
small of my back which would be fre
quented by a sharp shooting pain just over
the kidney extending up the spine to
the shoulders, also urinary disturbances
of an annoying nature Since taking
Kid-ne-oids they have relieved me of
these troubles and I am feeling better in
every respect. I will continue to take
Kid-ne-oids."
Morrow's Kid-ne-oids are not pills but
Yellow Tablets and sell at fifty cents a
box at all drug stores ard at Redick &
Grohnian's drug store.
Mailed on receipt of price. Manufac
tured by John Morrow & Co., Chemists.
Springfield, Ohio.
Tlionitaml* are Tryltiß It.
In order to prove the great merit of
Ely's Cream Balm, the most effective cure
for Catarrh and Cold in Koad. we hare pre
pared a generous trial size for 10 cents.
Get it of your druggist or send 10 eents to
ELY BltOS., 5G Warren St., N. Y. City.
I suffered from catarrh of the wor«t K'nd
ever since a boy, and I never hoj-» ! for
cure, but Ely's Cream Balm seems t > do
even that. Many acquaintances ns»tl
it with excellent results.• Ostrum,
45 Warren Ave., Chicago, 111.
Ely's Cream Balm is the acknowledged
euro for catarrh and contains no cocaine,
mercury nor any injurious drug. Prioe,
60 cents. At druggists or by maiL
New Drug Store.
MacCartney's Pharmacy
New Room.
Fresh Drugs.
Everything new and fresh.
Prescriptions carefully com
pounded by a Registered
Pharmacist.
TrvJ Our Soda
R A. MacCartney
H. 0. HAYS. L. H. HAYS.
PUT YOUR RIG UP AT
Livery and. Sale Stable.
Best Accommodations in Town.
West Jefferson Street, Butler, Pa
I'eople's Phone 109,
Bell's Phone 59
Pearson B. Nace's
Livery Feed and Sale Stable
Rear of
Wick House, Butler, Penn'a.
The best of horses and first class rigs al
ways on hand and for hire.
lfest accommodations in town for per ma
nent iMiarding and transient, trade. Speci
al care guaranteed.
Stable Room For 65 Horses.
A good class of horses, both drivers and
draft horses always 011 hand and for sale
under a full guaranty; and horses bought
pon proper notification by
PEARSON B. NACE.
Telephone. No. 219.
jsiT
jHotj
Sale
$5.00 $4.00 and $3.00
HATS AT
SI.OO
Jno- S. Wick.
Successor to El). COLBKRT,
242 S. Main St., Butler, Pa.
Opposite P. O.
BUTLER, PA., THURSDAY, FEBRUARY l.~>. lyco
••• i i-Ki i ; . /t
■ r . . ; ». •■ • .... . * • v- • . ..v . . ..-. • . •-. j 4 » . • .-; -• ; t.i jA, .
UN HIS STEPS. '
; I 3?au3 iOo?" f I hj§ i•:
i| - . i mmMjm H
By Giiarles !L Slieldon. 4 ?£
:: I £ ->r ;;
••> C*n/vr%ijhteil and i/ki.iWied t>«*: /i»ri by the y ' v
; .J> I'LU+liu* (U •' < V f
-» » 9 M
. . . < . *•::? -- 1 *■'* • : • . • - . 4 •
CHAPTER X.
Thw*» are th«f which follow th« Ijimb whlthpr
•oever he goeth.
When Dr. Bruce and the bishop en
tered the Sterling mansion, everything
In the usually well appointed household
was in the greatest confusion and ter
ror. Th. j great rooms down stairs were
empty, but overhead were hurried foot
steps and confuted noises. One of the
servants ran down the grand staircase
with a look of horror on her face just
as the bishop and Dr. Bruco were start
ing to go up.
"Miss Felicia is with Mrs. Sterling,"
the servant stammered in answer to a
question and then burst into a hyster
ical cry and ran through tho drawing
room and out of doors.
At the top of the staircase the two
men were met by Felicia.
She walked up to Dr. Bruce at once
and put both hands in his. The bishop
laid his hand on her head, and the three
stood there a moment in perfect silence.
The bishop had known Felicia since
she was a child. Ho was the first to
break silence.
"The God of all mercy be with you,
Felicia, in this dark hour. Your moth
er"—
The bishop hesitated. Out of the
buried he had during his hurried
passage from his friend s house to this
Lous,' of death irresistibly drawn tho
on • t :;d r r. aiance of his young man
hood. Not even Bruce knew that. But
tin re had been a time when tho bishop
had i . red the incense of a ; Ingnlarly
undivided .-iT <■ ion upon tin; altar of
his youth to the b -:ntir'r.l Camilla
Rolfe. and she had cbos jii between him
and the millionaire. Tho bishop carried
no l.itt rness with his memory, but it
was still a memory.
For answer to tho bishop's unfinished
query Felicia turned and went back
into her mother's room. She had not
said a word yet. bnt both raen were
struck with h"r wonderful calm. She
returned to the hall door and beckoned
to them, and the two ministers, with a
feeling that they were about to behold
something very unusual, entered.
Rose lay with her arms outstretched
on the bed; Clara, the nnr.se, sat with
her head covered. 6obbing in spasms of
terror, and Mrs. Sterling, with "the
light that never was on sea or land"
luminous on her face, lay there so still
that even thj bishop was deceived at
first. Then as the great truth broke
upon him and Dr. Bruce he staggered,
and the sharp agony of the old wound
shot through him. It passed and left
him standing there in that chamber of
death with the eternal calmness and
strength that the children of God have
a right to possess, and right well he
used that calmness and strength in the
days that followed.
The nest moment the house below
was in a tumult. Almost at the same
time the dm-tor, who had been sunt for
at once, but lived some di tance away,
came in, together with police officers
who had beer; nmmoned by the fright
ened servants. With them were four or
five newspaper correspondents and sev
eral neighbors. Dr. Bruce and tho
bishop met this miscellaneous crowd at
the head of tho stairs and succeeded in
excluding all except those whose pres
ence was necessary. With these the two
friends learni il all the facts ever known
about "the Sterling tragedy," as tho
papors in their sensational accounts
next dav called it.
Mr. Sterling had gone into his room
that evening about 9 o'clock, and th.kt
was the bust seen of him until in half
in hour a shot w as hi.-ird and a servant
wli i was in the L .11 ran into the room
and found tlie oA ner oi tin house dead
on the floor, killed by his own hand.
Felicia at the time was sitting by her
mother. Ruse was reading in the li
brary. She ran up stairs, saw her father
as he was being lifted upon the couch
by the servants and then ran screaming
into her mother's room, where she flung
herself down on the foot of the bed in
a.swoon. Mr*. Sterling had. at first
fainted at the shock, then rallied with
wonderful swiftness anil sent a mes
senger to call Dr. Bruce. She had then
insisted on seeing her husband. In spite
of Felicia, she had compelled Clara and
the housemaid, terrified and trembling,
to supi>ort her while she crossed the
hall anil entered the room where her
husband lay. She had looked upon him
with a tearless face, had gone back into
her own room, was laid on the bed, and
as Dr. Bruce and the bishop entered the
house she, with a prayer of forgiveness
for herself and her husband on her
quivering lips, had died, with Felicia
bending over her and Rose still lying
senseless at her feet.
So great and swift had been the en
trance of grim death into that palace
of luxury that Sunday night, but the
full cause of his coming was not known
until the facts in regard to Mr. Ster
ling's business affairs were finally dis
closed.
Then it was learned that for some
time he had ltecn facing financial rnin
owing to certain speculations that had
in a month's time swept his supposed
wealth into complete destruction. With
the cunning and desperation of a man
who battles for his very life, when he
saw his money, which was all the life
he ever valued, slipping from him ho
hail pot off tho evil day to the last mo
ment. Sunday afternoon, however, ho
had received news that proved to him
beyond a doubt the fact of his utter
ruin. Tho very house that he called his,
the chairs in which ho sat, his carriage,
the dishes from which he ate, had Jill
b«-en bought by money for which lie
himself had never really done an honest
stroke of pure labor.
It had all rested on a tissue of deceit
and speculation that had no foundation
in real values. He knew the fact better
than any one eise, but ho had hoped,
with the hope that such men always
have, that the same methods that
brought him the money would also pre
vent its loss. He had been deceived in
this, us many others have been. As
soon as the truth that he was practical
ly a beggar had dawned upon him ho
saw no escape from suicide. It was the
irresistible result of such a life as he
had lived. He had made money his god.
As soon as that god hud gone out of his
little world there was nothing more to
worship, and when a man's object of
worship is gone he has no more to live
for. Thus died the great millionaire,
Charles R. Sterling, and, verily, he died
as the fool dieth, for what is the gain
or the loss of money compared with the
unsearchable riches of eternal life, which
are far beyond the reach of worldly
speculation, loss or change?
Mrs. Sterling's death was the result
of shock. She had not been taken into
her hnsband's confidence for years, but
she knew that the source of his wealth
was precarious. Her life for several
years had been a death in life. The
Rolfes always gave the impression that
they could endure more disaster un
moved than any one else. Mrs. Sterling
illustrated the old family tradition
when she was carried into the room
wli re her husband lay, but the feeble
tenement could not hold tho spirit, and
it gave up the gho.*t. torn and weakened
by long years of suffering and disap
pointment
The effect of this triple Mow, the
death of father and mother and the loss
of property, was instantly apparent in
the sisters. The horror of events stupe
fied Rose for weeks. She lay unmoved
hv sympathy or any effort to rally. She
did not seem yet to realize that the
money which had been so large a part
of her very existence was gone. Even
when she was told that she and Felicia
must leave the house and be dependent
upon relatives and friends she did not
seem to understand what it meant.
Felicia, however, was fully conscious
of the facts. She knew just what had
happened and why. She was talking
over her future plans with her cousin
Rachel a few days after the funerals.
Mrs. Winslowand Rachel had left Ray
mond and come to Chicago at once as
soon as the terrible news had reached
them, and with other friends of the
family they were planning for tlie fu
ture of Rose and Felicia.
"Felicia, you and Rose must come to
Raymond with us. That is settled.
Mother will cot hear of any other plan
at present," Rachel had said, while her
beautiful face glowed with love for her
cousin, a love that had deepened du"
by day and was intensified by the
knowledge that they both belonged to
the new discipleship.
"Unless I could find something to do
here," answered Felicia. She looked
wistfully at Rachel, and Rachel said
gently:
"What could you do, dear?"
"Nothing. I was never taught to do
anything except a little laugic, and I
do not know enough about it to teach
it or earn my living at it. I have learned
to cook a little," Felicia answered, with
a slight smile.
"Then you can cook for us. Mother
is always having trouble with her kitch
en, "said Rachel, understanding well
enough that Felicia was thinking of the
fact that she was now dependent for
her very food and shelter upon the kind
ness of family friends.
It is true, the girls received a little
something out of the wreck of their fa
ther's fortune, but with a speculator's
mad folly he had managed to involve
both his wife's and liis children's por
tions in the common ruin.
"Can I? Can I?" Felicia replied to
Rachel's proposition as if it were to be
considered seriously. "I am ready to do
anything honorable to make my living
and that of Rose. Poor Rose! She will
never be able to get over the shock of
our trouble."
"We will arrange tho details when
we get to Raymond. " Rachel said, smil
ing through her tears at Felicia's eager
willingness to care for herself.
So in a few weeks Rose and Felicia
found themselves a part of tbeWinslow
family in Raymond. It was a bitter ex
perience for Rose, but there was noth
ing else for her to do, and she accepted
the inevitable, brooding over the great
change in her life and in many ways
adding to the burden of Felicia and her
cousin Rachel
Felicia at once found herself in an
atmosphere of discipleship that was like
heaven to her in its revelation of com
panionship It is true that Mrs. Wins
low was not in sympathy with the
course that Rachel was taking, but the
remarkable events since the pledge had
been taken were too powerful in their
results not to impress even such a wom
an as Mrs. Winslow. With Rachel Fe
licia found a perfect fellowship. She at
once found a part to take in the new
work at the Rectangle. In the spirit of
her new life she insisted 4»x>n helping
in the housework at her aunt's and in
a short time demonstrated her ability
as a cook so clearly that Virginia sug
gested that she take charge of the cook
ing class at the Rectangle.
Felicia entered upon this work with
the keenest pleasure. For the first time
in her life she had the delight of doing
something of value for the happiness of
others. Her resolve to do everything
after asking, "What would Jesus do?"
touched her deepest nature. She began
to develop and strengthen wonderfully
Even Mrs. Winslow was obliged to
acknowledge the great usefulness and
beauty of Felicia's character. The aunt
looked with astonishment upon her
niece, this citj- bred girl, reared in the
greatest luxury, the daughter of a mil
lionaire. now walking around in her
kitchen, her arms covered with flour
and occasionally a streak of it on her
nose—for Felicia at first had a habit of
rubbing her nose forgetfully when she
was trying to remember some recipe—
mixing various dishes, with the great
est interest in their results, washing up
pans and kettles and doing the ordinary
work of a servant in the Winslow
kitchen and at the rooms of the Rec
tangle settlement At first Mrs. Wins
low remonstrated.
"Felicia, it is not your place to be
out hero doing this common work I
cannot allow it."
"Why, aunt? Don't you like the
muffins I made this morning?" Felicia
would ask meekly, but with a hidden
smile, knowing her aunt's weakness for
that kind of muffin.
"They were beautiful, Felicia, but it
does not seem right for you to bo doing
such work for us."
"Why not? What else can I do?"
Her aunt looked at her thoughtfully,
noting her remarkable beauty of face
and expression
"You do not always intend to do
this kind of work, Felicia?"
"Maybe I shall. I have had a dream
of opening an ideal cookshop in Chi
cago or some large city and going
around to the poor families in some
slum district like the Rectangle, teach
ing the mothers how to prepare food
properly. 1 remember bearing Dr. Bruce
say once that he believed one of the
great miseries of comparative poverty
consisted in poor food He even went
so far as to say that he thought some
kinds of crime could be traced to
biscuits and tough beefsteak I'm con
fident I would be able to make a living
for Rose and myself and at the same
time to help others. "
Felicia brooded over this dream until
it becamo a reality Meanwhile she
grew into the affections of the Ray
mond peoplo and the Rectangle folks.
at.whom was kiuiwti as "the
BUj;« 1 eook tin- structure
of tbeh<»antrlmracter she was grow
itiiC always rt*sTc<l her jiroiiiise ma«le in
Nazareth Avenne church.
"What would Jesus do? - She prayed
and hoped and worked and planned her
life by the answer to that question
It was tlio inspiration of her conduct
and the answer to all her ambition
Three months had gone by since the
Sunday morning when Dr Bruce came
into his pulpit with the message of the
new discipleship. Never before had the
Rev Calvin Bruce realized how deep
the feelings of his members flowed He
humbly confessed that the appeal he
had made met with an unexpected re
sp»"mse from men and women who. like
Felicia, were hnngry for something in
their lives that the conventional type of
church membership and fellowship had
failed to give them
But Dr Bruce was not yet satisfied
for himself We cannot tell what his
feeling was or what led to the move
ment he finally made, to the great as
tonishment of nil who knew him. better
than by relating a conversation be
tween him and the bishop at this time
in the history of the pledge in Nazareth
Avenue church The two friends were,
as before, in Dr Brace's house, seated
in his study
"You know what 1 have come in this
evening forr' the bishop was saying
after the friends had been talking some
time about the results of the pledge
with Nazareth Avenue people
Dr Bruce looked over at the bishop
and shook his head
"1 have come to confess." went on
the bishep. "that I have not yet kept
my promise to walk in his steps in the
way that I believe 1 shall be obliged to
if 1 satisfy my thought of what it
means to walk in his stops "
Dr Bruce had risen and was pacing
his study The bi-hop remained in the
deep easy chair, with his hands clasped,
but his eye burned with the glow that
always belonged to him before he made
some great resolve
"Edward"—Dr Brace spoke abrupt
ly- "1 have not yet been able to satisfy
myself, either, in obeying my promise,
but I have at last decided on my course
In order to follow it. I shall be obliged
to resign from Nazareth Vvenue
church "
"I knew you would," replied tilt
bishop quietly, "and I cume in thit
evening to say that I shall bo obliged
to do the same with my charge."
Dr. Bruce turned and walked up tc
his friend. They were both laboring
under repressed excitement.
"Is it necessary in your case?" asked
Bruce.
"Yes. Let me state my reasons.
Probably they are tho same as yours.
In fact, I am sure they arc." Tlie
bishop paused a moment, then went on
with increasing feeling
"Calvin, you know how many years
I have been doing the work of my posi
tion. and you know something of the
responsibility and the care of it. Idc
not mean to say that my life has been
free from burden bearing or sorrow,
but I have certainly led what the pool
and desperate of this sinful city would
call a very comfortable—yes, a very
luxurious —life. I have a beautiful
house to live in, the most expensive
food, clothing and physical pleasures. I
have been able to go abroad at least a
dozen times and have enjoyed for years
the beautiful companionship of art and
letters and music and all the rest of the
very best. I have never known what it
meant to be without money or its
equivalent, and I have been unable to
silence the question of late, 'What have
I suffered for the sake of Christ?' Paul
was told what great things ho must
suffer for the sake of his Lord. Max
well's position at Raymond is well tak
en when he insists that to walk in the
steps of Christ means to suffer. Where
has my suffering come in ? The petty
trial* and annoyances of my clerical life
are not worth mentioning as sorrows or
suffering. Compared with Paul or any
of the Christian martyrs or early disci
ples, I have lived a luxurious, sinful
life, full of ease and pleasure. I cannot
endure this any longer. I have that
within me which of late rises in over
whelming condemnation of such a fol
lowing of Jesus. I have not been walk
ing in his steps. Under the present sys
tem of church and social life I soo no
escape from this condemnation except
to give the rest of my life personally to
the actual physical and soul needs of
the wretched people in the worst part
of this city."
The bishop had risen now and walked
over to the window. The street in front
of the house was as light as day, and
he looked out at the crowds passing,
then turned, and, with a passionate ut
terance that showed how deep tho vol
canic tiro in him burned, he exclaimed
"Calvin, this is a terrible city in
which we live. Its misery, its sin, its
selfishness, appall my heart, and I have
struggled for years with the sickening
dread of the time when I should be
forced to leave the pleasant luxury of
my official jiosition to put my life into
contact with the modern paganism of
this century. The awful condition of
the girls in the great department stores,
the brutal selfishness of the insolent so
ciety, fashion and wealth that ignores
all the sorrows of the city, the fearful
curse of the drink and gambling hell,
the wail of the unemployed, the hatred
of the church by countless men who see
in the church only great piles of costly
stone and upholstered furniture and the
minister as a luxurious idler, all the
vast tumult of this vast torrent of hu
manity with its false and its true ideas,
its exaggeration of evils in the church
and its bitterness and shame that are
the result of many complex causes —all
this as a total fact, in its contrast with
the easy, comfortable life I have lived,
fills me more and more with a sense of
mingled terror and self accusation. 1
have heard the words of Jesus many
times lately, 'lnasmuch as ye did it not
unto one of these least, my brethren,
ye did it not to me.' And when have I
personally visited the prisoner or the
desperate or the sinful in any way that
has actually caused me suffering?
Rather I have followed the conven
tional, soft habits of my'position and
have lived in the society of the rich,
refined, aristocratic members! of my con
gregations. Where has tl*; suffering
come in? What have I suffered for
Jesus' sake? Do yon know,\ Calvin" —
the bishop turned abruptly'toward his
friend—"l have been tempted of late
to lash myself with a scourge. ,If I had
lived in Martin Luther's time, il would
have bared my back to a self 'inflicted
torture.''
Dr. Bruce was very pale. Never had
he'seen the bishop or heart) him when
under the influence of such* a passion.
There was a sudden silence in the room.
The bishop had sat down again and
bowed his head Dr. Brace spoke at last
"Edward, I do not need bu sny that
you have expressed my feelings also. I
have been in a similar position for
years My life lisis been one of compar
ative luxury Ido not. of course, mean
to say that I have not; hard trials and
discouragements and burdens in my
church niis i try, but.fi cannot say that
I have suiared any for Jesus. That
verse in Peter haunts me. 'Christ also
suffered for you. leaving you an exam
pie that ye should follow his steps I
'•ave lived in luxury.. Ido not know
what it means to want. I also have hud
my leisure for travel and beautiful com
panionship I have been surrounded by
soft, easy comforts of civilization The
sin anil misery of this great city have
beat like waves against the stone walls
of my church and of this house in
which I live, ami 1 have hardly heeded
them the walls have been so thick 1
have reached a point where 1 cannot
endure this any longer lam not con
demning the church I love her. lam
not forsaking the church I believe in
her mission and have no desire to de
stroy. L'-ast of all. in the step 1 am
about to take, do I desire to be charged
with abandoning the Christian fellow
ship. but I feel I must resign my place
as pastor of Xazareth Avenne church
in order to satisfy myself that I am
walking as I ought to walk in his steps
In this action I judge no other minis
ters and pass no criticism on others'
discipleship. but I feel as you do Into
a closer contact with the sin and shame
and degradation of this great city 1
must come personally, and I know that
to do that I must sever my immediate
connection with Nazareth Avenne
church. Ido not see any other way for
myself to suffer for his sake as I feel
that 1 ought to suffer. "
Again that sudden silence fell over
these two men. It was no ordinary ac
tion they were deciding. They had both
reached the same conclusion by tlio
same reasoning, and they were too
thoughtful, too well arenstomed to tho
measuring of conlnct. to underestimate
the seriousness of their position.
"What is your plan?" The bishop at
last spoke gently, looking up with his
smile that always beautified his face
The bishop's faco grew in glory now
everv day
"My plan," replied Dr. Bruce slowly,
"is, in brief, the putting of myself into
the center of the greatest human need
I can find in this city and living there.
My wife is fully in accord with me.
We have already decided to find a resi
dence in that part of the city where we
can make our personal lives count for
the most "
"Let me suggest a place. " The bishop
was on fire now. His fine face actually
glowed with thje enthusiasm of the
movement in which he and his friend
were inevitably embarked. He went on
and unfolded a plan of such farreaehing
power and possibility that Dr. Bruco,
capable and experienced as he was, felt
amazed at the vision of a greater soul
than his own.
They sat up late and were as eager
and even glad as if they were planning
for a trip together to some rare land of
unexplored travel. Indeed the bishop
6aid many times afterward that the
moment his decision was reached to live
the life of personal sacrifice ho had
chosen he suddenly felt an uplifting, as
if a great burden was taken from him.
He was exultant. So was Dr. Bruce
from the same cause.
Their plan as it finally grew into a
workable fact was in reality nothing
more than the renting of a large build
ing formerly used as a warehouse for a
brewery, reconstructing it and living
in it themselves in tho very heart of a
territory where the saloon ruled with
power, where the tenement was its
filthiest, where vice and ignorance and
shame and i>overty were congested into
hideous forms. It was not a new idea
It was an idea started by Jesus Christ
when he left his Father's house and for
sook the riches that were his in order
to get nearer humanity and, by becom
ing a part of its sin, help to draw hu
inanity apart from its sin. The univer
sity settlement idea is not modern. It is
as old as Bethlehem and Nazareth, and
in this particular case it was the near
est approach to anything that would
satisfy tho hunger of theso two men to
suffer for Christ. There had sprung up
in them at the same time a longing that
amounted to a passion to get nearer the
great physical poverty and spiritual
destitution of the mighty city that
throbbed around them. How could they
do this except as they became a part
of it, as nearly as one man can become
a part of another's misery? Whero was
the suffering to come in unless thero
was an actual self denial of some sort ?
And what was to make that self denial
apparent to themselves or any ono else
unless it took this concrete, actual, per
sonal form of trying to share the deep
est suffering and sin of the city ?
So they reasoned for themselves, not
judging others They were simply keep
ing their own pledge to do as Jesus
would do, as they honestly judged he
would do. That was what they had
promised. How could they quarrel with
the result? They were irresistibly com
pelled to do what they were planning
to do.
The bishop had money of his own.
Every one in Chicago knew that the
bishop had a handsome fortune. Dr
Bruce had acquired and saved by liter
ary work carried on in connection with
his parish duties more than a comforta
ble competence. This money, a large
part of it, the two friends agreed to put
at once into the work, most of it into
the furnishing of a settlement house.
Meanwhile Nazareth Avenuo church
was experiencing something never
known before in all its history. The
simple appeal on the part of its pastor
to his members to do as Jesus would do
had created a sensation that still con
tinued The result of that appeal was
very much the same as in Henry Max
well's church in Raymond, only Naza
reth Avenue church was far more aris
tocratic. wealthy and conventional.
Nevertheless when one Sunday morn
ing in early summer Dr. Bruce came
into his pulpit and announced his resig
nation the sensation deepened all over
the city, although Dr. Bruce had ad
vised with his board of trustees, and the
movement he intended was not a mat
ter of surprise to them.
But when it becamo publicly known
that the bishop also had announced his
retirement from the position he had
held so long in order to go and live
himself in the center of the worst part
of Chicago the public astonishment
reached its height.
"But why," the bishop replied to
one valued friend who had almost with
tears tried to dissuade him from his
purpose—"why should what Dr. Bruce
and I propose to do seem so remarkable
a thing, as if it were unheard of that
R doctor of divinity and a bishop
should want to save souls in this par
ticular manner. If we were to resign
our charges for the purpose of going to
Bombay or Hongkong or atiy place in
Africa, the churches and the people
would exclaim at the heroism of mis
sions Why should it seem so great a
thing if we have been led to give our
lives to help rescue tho heathen and the
lost of our own city in tho way we are
going to try? Is it, then, such a tre
mentions event that two Christian min
isters should be not only willing but
eager to live close to the misery of the
world in order to know it and realize
it? Is it such a rare thing that love of
humanity should find this particular
form of expression in the rescue of
souls?' .
However the bishop may have satis
fied himself that there ought to lie noth
ing s*< remarkable about it all, the pub
lic continued to talk and the churches
to record their astonishment that two
such men. so prominent in the ministry,
should leav<i their comfortable homes,
voluntarily resign their pleasant social
positions and <-nt' r upon a lift* of hard
ship. >if self denial unlactuul suffering.
Cliirstian America! Is it a reproach
npon th>- f< rm < f our distfipleship that
the exhibits>n of actual suffering for
Jesus on the part of those who walk in
his steps always provokes astonishment,
as at the night of something very mi
usual*
Nazareth Avenue church parted from
its pastor with regret for the most part,
although the regret was modified by
some relief on the part of those who had
refused to take the pledge. Dr. Bruce
carried with him the respect of men
who, entangled in business in such a
way that oliedience to the pledge would
have mined them, still held in their
deeiKT. better natures a gennine admira
tion for con rage and consistency. They
had known Dr. Bruce many years as a
kindly, safe man, but the thought of
him in tho light of sacrifice of this sort
was not familiar lo them. As fast as
they understood it they gave their pas
tor the credit of being absolutely truo
to his recent convictions as to what fol
lowing Jesus meant. Nazareth Avenue
church has never lost the impulse of
that movement started by Dr. Brnce.
Those who went with him in making
tho promise breathed into the church
the very breath of divine life and are
continuing that life giving work at tho
present time.
It was fall again, and the city faced
another hard winter. The bishop ono
afternoon came ont of the settlement
anil walked aronnd the block, intending
to go on n visit to one of his new friends
in the district He had walked abont
fonr blocks when he was attracted by a
chop that looked different from the oth
ers. The neighborhood was still quite
new to the bishop, and every day he
discovered some strange spot or stum
bled npon some unexpected humanity
The place that attracted his notice
was a small house close by a Chinese
laundry There were two windows in
the front, very clean, and that was re
markable, to begin with. Then inside
the window was a tempting display of
cookery, with prices attached to the
various articles, that made the bishop
wonder somewhat, for he was familiar
by this time with many facte in the
life of the people once unknown to him
As he stood looking at the windows
the door between them opened, and Fe
licia Sterling came out.
"Felicia!" said the bishop. "When
did you move into my pariah without
my knowledge?"
"How did you find me so soon?"
asked Felicia.
"Why, don't you know? These are
tho only clean windows in the block."
"I believe they are," replied Felicia,
with a laugh that did the bishop good
to hear
"But why have you dared to come to
Chicago without telling me, and how
have yon entered my dioceso without
my knowledge?" asked the bishop, and
Felicia looked 60 like that beautiful,
clean, educated, refined world he once
knew that he might be pardoned for
seeing in her something of the old para
dise. although, to speak truth for the
bishop, ho had no desire to go back to
it again.
"Well, dear bishop," said Felicia,
who had always called him so when
ever they had met, "I know how over
whelmed you were with your work. I
did not want to burden you with my
plans, and, besides, I am going to offer
you my services. Indeed I was just on
my way to see you and ask your advice
I am settled here for the present with
Mrs. Bascom, a saleswoman who renta
our three rooms, and with one of Ra
chel's music pupils, who is being helped
to a course in violin by Virginia Page.
She is from the people," continued Fe
licia. using the words "from tho peo
ple" so gravely and unconsciously that
the bishop smiled, "and I am keeping
house for her and at the same time be
ginning an experiment in pure food for
the masses. I am an expert, and I have
a plan I want you to admire and de
velop Will you, dear bishop ?"
"Indeed I will," replied the bishop.
Tho sight of Felicia and her remarkable
vitality, enthusiasm and evident pur
pose almost bewildered him
"Martha can help at the settlement
with her violin, and I will help with
my messes. Yon see, I thought I would
get settled first and workout something
and then come with some real thing to
offer. I'm able to earn my own living
now. "
"Yon are?" The bishop Mid It a lit
tle incredulously. "How ? Making those
things?"
" 'Those things!' " said Felicia, with
a show of indignation. "I would have
you know, sir, that 'those things' are
the best cooked, purest food products in
this whole city."
"I don't doubt it," said the bishop
hastily, while his eyes twinkled. "Still,
the 'proof of the pudding'— Y< u know
the rest."
"Come in and try some," exclaimed
Felicia. "You poor bishop I You look
as if you hadn't had a good meal for a
month."
She insisted on the bishop's entering
tho little front room where Martha, a
wide awake girl with short curly hair
and an unmistakable air of music about
her, was busy with practica
"Go right on, Martha. This is the
bishop You have heard me speak of
him so often. Sit down here au{| let me
give yon a taste of the fleshpota of
Egypt, for I believe you havo been ac
tually fasting."
So Felicia and the bishop had an im
provised lunch, and the bishop, who, to
tell the truth, had not taken time for
weeks to enjoy his meals, feasted on the
delight of his unexpected discovery and
was able to express his astonishment
and gratification at the quality of the
cookery
"I thought yon would at least say It
frus as good as tho meals you used to
get at the Auditorium at the big ban
quets," said Felicia slyly.
" 'As good as!' The Auditorium baa
quets were simply husks compared to
this one, Felicia. But you must come
to the settlement I want you to see
what we are doing. And I am simply
astonished to find you here <arning
your living this way. I begin to seo
what your plan is. You can be of in
finite help to us. You don't really mean
that yon will live hero and help these
people to know the value of good food?"
"Indeed I do," Felicia answered
gravely. "That is my gospeL Shall I
not follow it?"
"Aye, aye I You're right. Bless God
for sense like yours. When I left the
World'' —tho bishop smiled at the phrase
—"they were talking a good deal about
tho 'new woman.' If you are one of
them, I um a convert right now and
here."
"Flattery still 1 Is thero no escape
from it even in tho slnms of Chicago?"
Felicia laughed again, ai i the bishop's
heart, heavy though it h d grown dur
ing wveral months of vat sin bearing,
rejoiced to hear it. It sounded good. It
was good. It belonged to God.
Felicia wanted to visit the settlement
and went back with the bishop. She
was amazed at the results of what con
siderable money and a go .Ideal of con
secrated brains had done. As they walk
ed through the building 1 ey talked in
cessantly Felicia was tho incarnation
of vital enthusiasm. E> n tho bishop
wondered at the exhibition of it aa it
bubbled up and sparkled over.
N6 r.
They went down into tho basement,
and the bishop pushed open door,
from behind which came the tiMrid of a
carpenter's plane. It was a email but
well equipped carpenter's shop A
young man with a paper cap on his
head and clad in blouse ana overalls
was whistling and driving the jjme as
he whistled. He looked npas tHo "bishop
and Felicia entered and took oft Ms cap.
As he did so his little finger csnrjed a
small curling shaving np to his hair,
and it caught there.
"Miss Sterling. Mr. Stephen Clyde,"
said the bishop. "Clyde is one of our
helpers here two afternoons in the
week.''
Just then the .bishop was called up
stairs, and ho excused himself for a mo
ment. leaving Felicia aud tho young
carpenter together.
"We have met l>efore," said Felicia,
looking at Clyde frankly.
"Yes. 'back in the world.' as the
bishop says." replied the yonng man,
and his fingers trembled a little as they
lay on the board he had been planing.
"Yes." Felicia hesitated. "I am
very glad to see you. "
"Are you?" The flush of pleasure
mounted to the young carpenter's fore
head. "You have had a great deal of
trouble since—then?" he said, and then
he was afraid he had wounded her or
called np painful memories, but Felicia
had lived over all that.
"Yes, and you also. How is it you
are working here?"
"It is a long story. Miss Sterling.
My father lost his money, and I was
obliged to go to work, a very good thing
for me. The bishop says I ought to be
grateful. I am. lam very happy now.
I learned the trnde hoping some time
to be of use. I am night clerk at one of
the hotels. That Sunday morning when
you took tho pledgo at Nazareth Av
enue church I took it with the others."
"Did yon?" said Felicia slowly "I
am glad.''
Jnst then the bishop came back, and
very soon he and Felicia went away,
leaving the young carpenter at his work.
Some one noticed that he whistled loud
er than ever as he planned.
"Felicia." said the bishop, "did you
know Stephen Clyde before?"
"Yes, 'back in the world,' dear bishop
He was one of my acquaintances in
Nazareth Avenue church."
"Ah !" said the bishop.
"\Vo were very good friends." added
Felicia.
"But nothing moro?'' the bishop ven
tured to ask.
Felicia's face glowed for an instant
Then she looked tho bishop in the eyes
frankly and answered:
"Truly and trnly, nothing more."
"It would be just tho way of the
world for those two people to come to
like each other, though." thought the
bishop to himself, and somehow the
thought made him grave. It was al
most like the old pang over Camilla,
brit it i d, leaving hiin afterward,
when Felicia had gone back, with tears
in his eyes and a feeling that was al
most lu.j.f that Felicia and Stephen
would like each other "After all. " said
the bishop, like the sensible, good man
that he was. "is not romance a part of
humanity? Love is older than lam and
wiser
The week following the bishop had
an experience that belongs to this part
of the settlement's history.
He was coming back to the settle
ment very late from 6oine gathering of
tho striking tailors and was walking
along, with his hands behind him,
when two men jumped ont from behind
an old fence that shut off an abandoned
factory from the street and faced him.
One of the men thrust a pistol into the
bishop's face, and tho other threatened
him with a ragged stake that had evi
dently been torn from tho fence
"Hold up your hands, and be quick
about it I" said the man with the pistol
The placo was solitary, and the bishop
had no thought of resistance. He did as
he was commanded, and the man with
the stako began to go through his pock
ets. The bishop was calm. His nerves
did not quiver. As ho stood there with
his arms uplifted an ignorant spectator
might have thought that he was pray
ing for the souls of these two men. And
he was, and his prayer was singularly
answered that very night.
[TO BE corrrirruiD.J
lie Saw Her Home.
On n rainy afternoon not long ago
one of the pretty young matrons of
Connecticut avenue left the car from
which she had ridden up town and
darted through the drizzle toward her
home, a few doors from the corner. She
had no umbrella. A Willie of the char
acteristic type, who was riding in the
same ear, noticed that sho had no um
brella. He was right after her with his
own umbrella up and extended.
"May 1 see you home, miss?" he In
quired languishlngly, stepping up
alongside of her.
She turned to him with a dazzling
smile.
"Certainly," 6he replied. "Watch
me." And she ran up the steps of her
home aud entered the vestibule door
without looking back.
"The rude thing!" muttered the Wil
lie, blushing to the roots of its wavy
hair, as Laura Jean would say, and
then It took the next car.—Washington
Post.
Some Good Aaagrimi.
The following is a list of very re
markable anagrams:
Astronomers, no more stars; cata
logues, got as a clue; elegant, neat leg;
Impatient, Tim Is a pet; matrimony,
Into my arm; melodrama, made moral;
midshipman, mind his map; old Eng
long, golden laud; parishioners, I hire
parsons; parliament, partial men; pen
itentiary, nay, I repent it; Presby
terian, best In prayer; revolution, to
love ruin; sweetheart, there we eat;
telegraphs, great helps.
Forcible Proof.
"What was your father whipping
you for last night?" asked ono Small
boy of another.
"Oh," replied the other, "we had an
argument about my Sunday school les
son, and he was proving to me that the
whale actually did swallow Jonah."—
Troy Times. ,
THE INTERMEZZO."
The light shone soft on you, my own.
With your violin pressed to your chin,
And as the room was filled with each throbbing'
tone
The angola seemed crowding In
The Intermezzo, so soft and sweet
That it drew from my eyes the tear*.
Ah, the echo still, so faint and fleet,
I cateh o'er the space of years.
You wore a gown so pure and whlto.
At your throat a glimpse of blue,
And the stars outside, the eyes of night.
Seemed looking In at you.
Your arm moved slowly up and down
As each throbbing Btring you pressed,
And 1 envied so that violin brown
Its precious place of rest.
Each note was played so pure, so true.
But full of sorrow, great and wild.
And, pray, what grief had come to you.
Then scarcely more than a little chlldf
Twaa the mystic grief that music bring!
From a violin's wall to an organ's roll;
•Twas that which trembled on those strlngi
And parsed from them to my llst'ning souL
I am < arried back to that night, when I hear
The "Ave Maria," so sweet and slow.
And my henrt Itcats fast tw. you, my dear.
As It did that night, so long ago.
—Detroit Free Press.
±— T"IW> i