VOL- xxxvii BETWEEN SEASONS- Cleaning up Winter Goods at reduced prices and at the same time showing new spring stufis. Rare Bargains in Marked Down Dress Goods. TKy Lot 25c Dress Goods —reduced to 15c. Lot 40c and 50c Dress Goods —reduced to 25c. 1 BJ>J Lot 75c Dress Goods —reduced to 50c. / Lot SI.OO Dress Goods —reduced to 75c. Z| A Jackets and Capes Sacrificed. M"st be cleared up regardless of cost. S me are half price—many less than half. Embroideries. Laces and White Goods. The well made and dependable kind, bought be fore the advance. New F3d<jings and Insertings— 3c a yd. up. All-overs and Tuckings— 2sc up. { ' Lace Inserted all-overs —$1.00 up. ' White India Linens —at old prices. fy&'l New Percales, Ginghams and Seersuckers |/' " at old prices. '< r L. STEIN Sc SON, 108 N. MAIN STREET. BUTLER, PA- Blizzard and Icicles Will u oon be here; don't let pneumonia and doctor's bills be the first to arrive. Fortify yourself with one of our $8 Suits and one of our $9 Overcoats or one of our #7 Frieze Ulsters. They smooth over the rough edges of Winter, other dealers have the same kind, but the PRICE— There's The Rub. Schaul & Nast, LEADING CLOTHIERS, | 137 South' Main St., Butler. ' gT RIVING pOR pFFECT ilen do.i't buy clothing for the pur-'J%" LiiJ / 1 ft 4 tpo«e or upending money. They desireik, /11. fli I\\ ' Jto get the best possible results lor theO? fi\' i ' 7 Cmoney expended. Not cheap goods"Wr / '|"l / i tbut goods as cheip as they can Lli 'il, , ;;soldfor nd made up properly. IffC Ifi/* | 7 ("you want the correct thing at the cor-7?? """A Xvf || , < i /reel price, call and examine our jf. \ W 1 ' ;iarge stock of Heavy Weights, Fall a; \ ft" r? \ if TBPand Winter Suitings and Overcoats M I i tthe latest Styles. Shades and I Fits and Workmanship \ JJJ M vy S G'jarant«sj Gr, / g f. kgck. 142j|NorthlMain Street, Butler, Pa l| PAPES, JEWELEKS. {§ of t 4 m £ J DIAMONDS, J 1/5 i WATCHES, $ o {2 5 CLOCKS, j g J JEWELRY, J ? 5' SILVERWARE, J r " * J SILVER NOVELTIES, ETC. J 2 We repair all kinds of £ ° Broken Watches, Clocks, Jewelry, etc J c/> t/i Give our repair department a trial. 2 We take old gold and silver the same as cash. * - S { FAPE'S, Si J J 122 S. Main St., Butler, Pa. J S Stop and Think Before You Act. Where are you to buy your WALL PAPER? Our Mainm:>th new line for 1900 is arriving daily. Never be fore have you seen its equal in designs, colorings, quality and price. We can please ; ou. Call and see before you buy. Picture ( rd M : rror 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. Constipation, Headache, Biliousness, Heartburn, Indigestion, Dizziness, Indicate that your liver is out of order. The best medicine to rouse the liver and cere all these ills, is found in Hood's 25 cents. Sold by all medicine dealers. Thousands are Trying It. j In ordei to prove the great merit of Ely's Cream Balm, the most effective cure for Catarrh and Cold, in Hand. we have pre pared a generous trial size for 10 cents. Get it of your druggist or send 10 cents to ELY BliOS., 56 Warren St., S. Y. City. I suffered from catarrh of the worst Kind ever since a boy. and I never li < ll i for cure, but Ely's Cream Balm seems . ■ do even that. Many acquaintances liai u .1 it with excellent results. —Oscar O.strum. 45 Warren Ave., Chicago, 111. Ely's Cream Balm is the acknowledged cur.-'fnr catarrh and contains no coc:tine, mercury nor any injurious drug, l'ri'e. 60 cents At druggists ><r by mail. RAILROAD TIME TABLES. T> UFFALO, ROCHESTER & PITTSBURG RV. The new trunk line between Pittsburg, Butler, Bradford, Rochester and BufL'.lo. On and after .Jan. 1. 1900. passenger trains will leave Butler, P. & W. Sta tion as follows, Eastern Standard Time: 10:12 a.m. Vestibnled Limited, daily, for Dayton, Panxsntawney, Dti- Bois. Ridgway, Bradford, Buffalo and Rochester. 5:22 p.m. Accommodation, week days only, Craigsville, Dayton. Punxsu tawney, On Bios, Falls Creek. Curwensville. Clearfield and inter mediate stations 0:45 a.m. Week days only; mixed train for Craigsville, Dayton, Punxsn tawney and intermediate points. This train leaves Panxsntawney at 1:00 p.m. arriving at Butler .at 5:45 p.m , stopping at all intermediate stations Thousand mile tickets good for pas sage between all stations on the B. K & PR'y and N. Y. C. R. l{. (Penn a. division) at 2 cents per mile. For tickets, time tables and furthei information call on or address, I'., Bessemer & L K. Trains depart : No 14, at II: 15 A. M; No. 2, at I ")(i P. M. Butler time. Trains arrive :So. 1, 9:50 A. M; No. 11, 2:55 P. M. Butler time. No. 14 runs through to Erie and con nects with W. N. V. & P. at Huston Junction for Franklin and Oil City, and with Erie Railroad at Shenan go for all points east. No. 2 runs through to Greenville and connects with W N. Y. & P. for Franklin and Oil City, and at Shenango with Erie li. R. for points east and west. W. li. TURNER, Ticket Agent. *• Railway. Schedule of Pas finger Trains in cflect Nov. 19, 1809. BUTLER TIME. i D«|«art. Arrive. •ilieglieriy Accuinniodiitioii »> 2 > A M 'J 07 A. si Allegheny Kxpmw HOS " '•> .JO " New (imtle ArcoiuitiodaUoii h 0"> " 907 Akron Mail * AM ?J® •' * Allegheny Faat Kx|irew« '» r 'H " 12 18 Allcgh<'iiy KxproiM :j oo P.M 1 1 > i»ni Chicago Kxpn-rtH 40 pin 12 lh am Allegheny Mail 5 f»o " 7 l » pro Allegheny ami New Outtle Accom - r » « r »0 " 7 0.» Chicagf Limited . f»o " 'I o7 A..M Kane and Brailfonl Mail a m 2 P..M Clarion Accommodation I r » r > »*.M '» 40 A.M Cleveland an«l <lii«-«go Exprewt... 2/i am SUNDAY TRAINS. Allegheny Kxpreh* « 05 A m 0 ."."A.M Allegheny Accommodation.. ... 550 I\.M 5 OIJ P.M New Cantle Accommodation 805 A.M 7 ffJ 44 Chicago Exprem 3 4«» P.M 6 am All*Kheuy Accommodation 7 O.J pm Train arrivitg at 5.0:; p.m. h-avea 11. A 0. dc|x>t Piltrthurg at 3.25 p.m and l\ & W., Allegheny at H--i5 p. m. (in Satin days a train, known a« the theatre train, will leave Ikitlcr at 5.50 p. m., arriving at Allegheny at 7.20; returning leave Allegheny at 11 .'JO p. m. I'ullinau Bleeping car* on Chicago Exprenn between I'ittrthurg and Chicago. For through ticketM Co all (>oinU in the went, north *c«t or nouthwett and information regarding route*, time of trainrt, etc. apply to W. K. TCttNER, Ticket Agent, It. li. REYNOLDS, Sup't, N !>., IJiith r, I'a. Butler, I'a. C. W. HAS.SETT, l\ A.. AU.vl»ccy,*a 11. 0 DIN KM:, Sup't. W. A 1.. Div.. Allegheny I'a. PENNSYLVANIA SA i. WESTERN PENNSYLVANIA DIVISION. SctiKDi'LK IN Kmscr Nov. 20,1H'J!». SOUTH. / WEEK DAYS—: * A. M A M. A. M. I'. M. I'. M. BCTLEK Leave U 25 X 05 10 50 2 35 5 05 Saxonhtirg Arrive <1 64 H .'Mi II 15 oo 52m Butler Junction.. 44 7 27 4 r »'-L 11 -l" •» 25 5 s;j Butler Junction...Leave' 7 I 3 sil 11 52 3 2-» 5 M Natrona AirHre 7 1<» 'J 01 12 01 3 M dO2 Tareutum 7 -11 07 12 Oh 3 42 •! 07 Springdale 7 52 9 Di 12 1!) 3 62 Cliiremont I'J 30 1- :»•■* 4 <Hi .... Slutrp»tburg Hll u :}♦. 12 IH t1- M Allegheny H 24 'J 48 I 02 1 25 <; 4U A. M. A.M. P. M. I'. M. I'. M. SUNDAY TUAlNß.—Leave Butler for Allegheny City and prin<;ii*tl Intermediate HtatiouM at 7:30 a m., Hiid 5:00 p. m. NORTH. WEEK DAYS A. M.: A. M A M. I'. M. I'. M Allegheny City. ..h-ave 7 oo H 65 10 45 lo (i 10 Shai|iHburg 7 12 9 07 10 57 Oiaremont .. .... II "1 Springdale —ll 1* ... 37 Tarentnm 7 :.T 'J :*.! II ll* :I L>. ». Natrona 741 'J 11 :il J s<» '• 61 Butler Junction.. .arrive 7 4- '» IT 11 4.J •> ■>* 7 oo Uutlef Junction leave 7 4*i 'J 17 12 1* 1 <"■ 7 '*» Saxonhurjj 8 1- 10 o'.» 12 11 I 7 21 BUTLER arrive 8 4ojlo 32 1 1«> 5 0 > 7 60 A. M.jA. M. I\ M. I'. III.; I'. M SUNDAY TRAINS Leave Allegheny City for But ler and prlni i|*l intermediate Htationn at 7 15 a. m. and *J :vo p. ni. FOR THE EAST. Week* Duyn. Sunday* A.M. A.M. I'. M A.M I' M I'I'TI.KK Iv ii 25 10 5o 235 730 6 «»0 Butler JVt ar 7 27 11 l<» 325 hio 550 Butler J'( t Iv 74* 11 I; 3 • m2l <»:, Freepurt ar 7 M II l«, 402 K25 HO7 KlHkiminctaa J't 44 765 11 5o 407 8 2'J m II Ijeechhtirg 14 807 12 OJ' 4 ltt H4l 8 i'anltou (Apollo).... 44 H 2«. \1 22 t lO m - - \L S»ilt«l urg 44 Hsl 12 4'» ■. oa j,.', !i O'J Bhtinville „ 22 120 5 11 il 52 ll 4o lJlairNvilUi Int 44 13;. 5 50 10 4m Altooiia 44 II . 1 860 .1- .. Ilaninhurg 44 31010 o. 1 «m» 10 00 Philadelphia 44 « 2.3 1 i;» 425 426 P. M A M.| A. M. A. M. P. M T1 irongh traiuM for the eaitt leave PitU'hiirg (Union Station), an follow*: Atlantic Exprew, daily 2:50 A.M I i'ciiimylvaiiia Limited 44 7:15 44 | Ihiy Kxpre.wt, M 7:if) " MJUII Line ExpruM, M ... H:IM> iiarrishurg Mall, M 12 46 P.M Philadelphia Expreh*, « 4:50 44 1 Mall and Exprcmt daily. For New York only. Through «lee|H-r; no coai t.en 7.< m 44 Extern ExpreHK, '* .... . 7.10 14 VMLbM, 4 *80" PitUhuiK daily, with through icheM Pi New York, ami I. <-ping cam to n m, York, Baltimore and \Va«liiii;*i->ii only. No extra lare on thin train 10.00 44 Phllad*a Mail, Sund;i\s on.y 8:40 A.M Fnr Atlantic City (via Delaware River Bridge, all rail route), 8:00 A.M, and 8:110 P.M, daily. For detailed liiforinatloii, ad-ln Thou. E. Watt, Paw Au't. We tern Dwtrl< t, Corner Fifth Avenue and Smith- Held Street, Pitpdmrg, Pa. J B. 11l Tell 1 soN, J. R. WOOD. General Manaaer. den'' Anetie i OLECAMPBELI^^ 0 TIN ROOFER. V % and Specialties in Tin. X j N. Main St ~ liutlc r, I'a. Sjf \0 W. R. TURNER, Agt. Butler, Pa., or EL>WARI> C. LAPEY. Gen'l Pass. Agent, Rochester, N. Y BUTLER, PA, THURSDAY, MARCH 1, 1900 ; a.i .. 4. . . . t ; ... . ... . ........ . . . . . . . . . . • . . ; ; ; ; ; , I IN HIS STEPS. I ■rj[| 3csus So?" j I Ml By Charles M. Sheldon. | • • Cupyrightcl an 1i i' U.-hi-t in a . ibu thr • £*; b Adcancc nULJiLi.j <■. • -aa-frio Penrose turned to Dr. Brace. "Doctor." he exclaimed, and there was almost a child's terror in his voice, i "I came to say that I have had an ex perience so unusual that nothing but the supernatural can explain it. You remember I was one of those who took the pledge to do as Jesus wonld do. I thought at the time, poor fool Uiat 1 was, that I had all along been doing the ! Christian thing. I gave liberally oat of j - my abundance to the church and char j | ity I never gave myself to cost me any j suffering I have been living in a per j feet hell of contradictions ever since 1 j took the pledge My little girl. Diana. | j you remember, also took the pledge j with me She has been asking me a | great many questions lately abont the I poor j)eople and where they lived. I was obliged to answer her Two of her ques tions last night touched my sore Did 1 own any houses where those people lived ? Were they nice and warm like ours? You know how a child will ask questions like these. I went to bed tor Biented with what I now know to be the divine arrows of conscience I could not sleep i eemed to see the judgment day i was placed before the Judge I was asked give account of my deeds don* in the body. How many sinful souls had 1 visited in prison? What had i done with my stewardshipV How obont tin - tenements where people froze in winter .\n<l stifled in sumin r Did 1 give any thought to them except to receive the rentals from them? Where did my suffering come in? Would .le>u have done as 1 had done and was c; ng? Ilad I broi:en uiy pledgei. Ho .v had f used the money and Jie cult. 1 e• . I i i:ce I fosse.-. -d! .. 1 • ; i i'i • oless hum.::: . to r . v ■ • to bring joy to the . : • to tiied'-spe; I i.ce.v i .—ich. How in i ii;.d i • n .' "All tills c.nile t.i :i.i a w i' ing vision as . i!y as I * •• you two men and my. li now Iv, . . in.able to see the end of the vision I . la coil fused picture m my in:, i of th. 1 suffer ing Christ pein:;:. ' a : linger at me. and the n>i v. o.U by ni'-t and darkne.s I>. ■ i had sleep for 34 hours The fir : . ii-i 1 iw this morning was 'ii a< r.• . t «.i the shoot ing at the coalyai .l. ! r-ad th,-account with a feeling of ho. : • - I have not been able to shake off 1 ai. .i nilty creature before God. Penrose pause I sti.i 1 rily The two men looked at him ' mnlv What powi-r of the Holy Kpi:n moved the soul of this hitherto i' -satisfied, ele gant, cultur ! man who belonged to the social ii that was acen to::ied to go its way. placidly nnmindi'nl of the j<-re:it siii'VuttVjifL snffer for Jesus' sake? Into that room came a breath such aa before swept over Henry Maxwell's church and through Nazareth Avenne. and the bishop laid his hand on the shoulder of P.-nrose and said "My brother. God i. is been very near to yon Let us thank :.im. " "Yes, yes,' sobbed Penrose He sat down on a ch..ir and covered his face. The bishop prayed Then Penrose quiet ly said, "Will you go with me to that house?' For answer both Dr Bruce and the bishop put on their overcoats and went out with him to the home of tile dead man's family This was the beginning of a new and strange life for < 'larenco Penrose From tie- moment he stepped into that wretched hovel of a home and faced for the first time in his life a de spair and suffering such as lie had read of, but did not know by personal con tact, he dated a new life It would bo another long story to tell how, in obedi ence to his pledge, lie began to do with his tenement property as he knew Jesus would do What wonld Jesus do with tenement property if ho owned it in Chicago or any other great city of the world? Any man who can imagine any true' answer to this question can easily tell what Clarence Penrose began to do Now, before that winter reached its bitter climax many things occurred in the city that concerned the lives of all the characters in this history of the dis ciples who promised to walk in bis steps. It chanced, by one of those remark able coincidences that seem to occur preieriiatnrally. that one afternoon, just as Felicia came out of the settlement with a basket which she was going to leave as a sample with a baker in the Penrose district, Stephen Clyde opened the door of the carpenter shop in the basement and came out of the lower door in time to meet Felicia as she reached the sidewalk. "Let me carry your basket, please," he said "Why do yon say 'please?' " asked Felicia, handing over the basket "I would like to say something else," replied Stephen, glancing at her shyly and yet with a boldness that frightened him, for he had been loving Felicia more every day since ho first saw her, and especially since she stepped into the shop that day with the bishop, and for weeks now they had been in many ways thrown into each other's company "What else?" asked Felicia innocent ly, falling into the trap "Why." said Stephen, tnrning his fair, noble face full toward her and eying her with the look of one who would have the best of all things in the universe, "1 would like to say, 'Let me carry your basket, dear Felicia.' Felicia never looked so beautiful in her life. She walked on a little way without even turning her face toward him. It was no secret with her own heart that she had given it to Stephen some time ago. Finally she turned and said shyly, while her face grew rosy and her eyes tender. "Why don't you say it, then?' "May I?" cried Stephen, and he was so careless for a minute of the way ho held the basket that Felicia exclaimed: "Y<«! But, oh, don't drop my goodies I" "Why, I wonldn't drop anything so precious for all the world, 'dear Fe licia.' " said Stephen, who now walked on air for several blocks, and what else was said during that walk is private correspondence that we have no right to read, only it is matter of history that day that the basket never reached its destination and that over in the other direction late in the afternoon the bishop, walking along quietly in a rather secluded spot near the outlying part of the settlement district, heard a familiar voice say, "But tell me, Fe licia. when did you begin to love me?" "I fell in love with a little pine shav ing just above your ear that day I saw yon in the shop." said the other voice, with a laugh so clear, so pure, so sweet that it did one good to hear it The next moment the bishop turned the corner and came upon them "Where are you going with that basket?" he tried to say sternly "We're taking it to—where are we taking it to. Felicia?" "Dear bishop, we are taking it home to begin" "To begin housekeeping with. " fin ished Stephen, coming to the rescue "Are you?" said the bishop "I hope you will invite me in to share 1 know what Felicia's cooking is. " "Bishop di.ir b. bop. said Felicia, and she did not pretend to hide her happiness, "indeed you shall always be the most honored guest Are vou glad V' "Yes. I am." replied the bishop, in terpreting Felicia's words as she wished. Then he paused a moment and said gently. "Go ! bless you both!" and went his way with a tear in his eye and a prayer in his heart, and left them to their joy Yes shall not the same divine power of love that belongs to earth be lived and sung by the disciples of the man of sorrows and the burden barer of sins? Yea, verily! And this man and woman shall walk hand in hand through this great desert of human woe in this city, strengthening each other, growing more loving with the experience of the world's sorrows, walking in his steps even closer yet because of this love, bringing added blf .-sings to thousands of wretched creatures because they are to have a home of their own to share with the homeless. "For this cause," said our Lord Jesus Christ, "shall a juan leave his father and mother and cleave nnto his wife," and F> licia and Stephen, following the Master, love him with deeper, truer service and devotkn because of the earthly affection which heaven itself sanctions with its solemn blessing. Now, it was a little after the love story of the settlement became a part of its glory that Henry Maxwell of Ray mond came to Chicago with Rachel Winslow and Virginia Page and Rollin and Alexander Powers and President Marsh, and tho occasion was a remark able gathering at the hall of the settle ment, arranged by the bishop and Dr. Bruce, who had finally persuaded Mr. Maxwell and his fellow disciples of Raymond to come on to be present at this meeting. Tlie bishop invited into the settle ment hall meeting for that night men out of work, wretched creatures who had lost faith in God and man, anar chists and infidels, freethinkers and no thinkers. The representatives of all the city's worst, most hopeless, most dan gerous, depraved elements faced Henry Maxwell and the other disciples when selfish, pleasure loving, sin stained city, and it lay in God's band, not knowing all that awaited it. Every man and woman at the meeting that night had seen the settlement mottoover the door, blazing through the transparency set np by the divinity student, "What Would Jesus Do?" And Henry Maxwell, as for the first time he stepped under the doorway, was touched with a deeper emotion than he had felt in a longtime as lie thought of the first time that question had come to him in the piteous appeal of the shabby young man who had appeared in the First church of Raymond at the morning service. W;is his great desire for Christ ian fel lowship going to be granted T Would the movement begun in Raymond actn ally spread over the country? He had come to Chicago with his friends partly to see if the answer to that question would be found in the heart of tho great city life?. In a few minutes he would face the people. Ho had grown very strong and ejilm since he first sjtoko with trembling to that company of workingmen in tho railroad shops, but now, as then, lit! breathed a deeper prayer for help. Then he went in, and with tho bishop and the rest of the dis ciples ho experienced one of the great and important events of the earthly life. Somehow he felt as if this meeting would indicate something of an answer to his constant query, "What would Jesus do?" and tonight as ho looked into the faces of men and women who had for years been strangers and ene mies to tb" church his heart cried out, "O my Master, teach thy church how to follow thy steps better!" Is that prayer of Henry Maxwell's to bo an swered? Will the church in the city re spond to the call to follow him? Will it choose to walk in his steps of pain and suffering? And still over all the city broods the Spirit. Grieve him not, 0 city, for he was never more ready to revolutionize this world than now! CHAPTER XII Y>.l lac k'Ht thou one tiling. Si ll all that thou hast an»l distribute unto tho poor, ami thou shall have treasure in heaven. And, come; folhtw me. •When Henry Maxwell began to speak to the souls crowded into the settlement hall that night, it is doubtful if he had ever before faced such an audience in his life. It ii- quite certain that the city of Raymond did not contain such a variety of humanity. Not even the Rectangle at its worst could furnish so many men and women who had fallen entirely out of the reach of tho church and all religious and even Christian in fluences. What did ho talk about? Ho had al ready decided that point. Ho told in tho simplest language ho could com mand some of the results of obedience to the pledge as it had been taken in Raymond. Every man and woman in that audience knew something about Jesus Christ. They all had some idea of his character, and, however much they had grown bitter toward the forms of Christian ecclesiasticism or the social system, they preserved some standard of right and truth, and what little some of them still retained was taken from the person of the peasant of Galilee. Ko they were interested in what Max well said. "What would JesnsdoY" Ho bewail t«> apply tho question to tlir Kocial problem in general after finishing the story of Raymond. The audience was respectfully attentive. It wan more than that. It was genuinely interested. As Mr. Maxwell went on faces all over the hall leaned forward in a way very sel dom seen in church audiences or any where else, except among workinßinen or the people of tho street when once they are thoroughly aroused. "What Would Jesus do?" Suppose that werei the motto not only of the churches, l*tt of the business men, the politicians, th« newspapers, the worldngmen. tho so ciety people. How loiiK would it take, under such a standard of conduct, to revolutionize the worldV V hat was the trouble with the world? It was suffer inn from selfishness. No one ever lived who h.TI sncr eded in overcoming self ishness like Jesus. If men followed him, regardless of results, the world wonld Ht once begin to enjoy a new life. Henry Maxwell never knew how lunch it meant to hold the respectful attention of that hall full of diseased and sinfnl humanity. The bishop and Dr Bruce sitting there, looking on. many faces th.it represented scorn of creeds, hatred of the social order, desperate narrowness and selfishness, marveled that even so socn, under the influence of the settlement life, the softening process had begun to lessen the bitterness of hearts, many of which had grown bitter from neglect and in difference. And still, in spite of the outward tin iw of respect of the speaker, no one, not even the bishop, had any true con ception of the pent up feeling in that room that night. Among the men who had heard of the meeting and had re si>onded to the invitation were 20 or 30 out of work, who had strolled past the settlement that afternoon, read the no tice of the meeting and had come in out of curiosity and to escape the chill cas-t wind. It was a bitter and the saloons were full, but in that whole distiict of over 80,000 souls, with the exception of the saloons, there was not a d< or ojten to the people except tho clean, pure, • liristian door of the settle ment. Where would a man without a home or without work or without frii iuls naturally K" unless to a saloon t It had been the custom at the settle ment for a free and open discussion to follow an open meeting of this kind, and when llenry Maxwell finished and sat down the bishop, who presided to night. rose and made the annoncement that any man in the hall was at liberty to ask questions, to speak out his feel ings or declare his convictions, always with the understanding that whoever took part was tc observe the simple rules that governed parliamentary bod ies and obey the three minute rule, which, by common consent, would be enforced on account of the numbers present. Instantly a number of voices from men who had been at previous meetings of this kind exclaimed, "Consent, con sent!" The bishop sat down, and immediate ly a man near the middle of the hall rose and began to speak. "I want to say that what Mr. Max well has said tonight comes pretty close to me. I knew Jack Manning, the fel low he told about, who died at his house. I worked on next case to his in a printer's shop in Philadelphia for two years. Jack was a good fellow. He lent me once when I was in a hole, and I never got a chance to pay it back. He moved to New York, owing to a change in tho management of the office that threw him out, and I never saw him again. When the linotype machine came in, I was one of the men to go out. just as he did. I have been out most of the time since. They say in Ventions are a good thing. I won't al ways see it myself, bat 1 suppose I'm prejudiced. A man naturally is when he loses a steady job because a machine takes his place. About this Christianity he tells about, it's all right, but I never expect to see any such sacrifice on the part of church people. So far as my ob- fi.'r! A'in l)„iiy. 1 except tlie l.ishop and Dr. Bruce and a few others, but I never found much difference between men of the world, as they're called, and church members when it came to busi ness and money making. One class is just as bad as another there." Cries of "That'sso!" "You're right!" "Of course!" interrupted the speaker, and the minute he sat down two men who were on their feet for several sec onds before the first speaker was through began to talk at once. The bishop called them to < rder and indicated which was entitled to tho floor. The man who remained standing began eagerly: "This is the first time I was ever in here, and maybe it'll be the last. Fact is, I'm about at the end of my string. I've tramped this city for work until I'm sick. I'm in plenty of company. Say, I'd like to ask a question of the minister if it's fair. May IV" "That's for Mr. Maxwell to say," said the bishop. "By all means," replied Mr. Max well quickly. "Of course I will not promise to answer it to tho gentleman's satisfaction." "This is my question." Tho man leaned forward and stretched out a long arm, with a certain dramatic force that grew naturally enough out of his con dition as a human being. "I want to know what Jesus would do in my case? I haven't had a stroke of work for two months. I've got a wife and three chil dren, and I love them as much as if I was worth a million dollars. I've been living off a little earnings 1 saved up during the World's fair jobs I got. I'm a carpenter by trade, and I've tri<il ev ery way I know to get a job. Yon say we ought to take for our motto, 'What would Jesus do?' What would he do if lie was out of work like me? I can't be somebody else and ask the question. I want to work. I'd give anything to grow tired of working ten hours a day the way I used to. Am Ito blame be cause I can't manufacture a job for my self? I've got to live and my wife and my children. But how? What would Jesus do? You say that's the question wo all ought to ask. " Henry Maxwell sat thore staring at the great sea of faces all intent on his, and no answer to this man's question seemed, for the time being, to be possi ble. "Otiod!" his heart prayed. "This is a question that brings up the entire social problem in all its perplexing en tanglement of human wrongs and its present condition, contrary to every de sire of Ood for a human being's wel fare. Is there any condition more awful than for a man in good health, able and eager to work, with no means of honest livelihood unless ho does work, actually unable to get anything to do and driven to ono of three things begging for charity at tho hands of friends or strangers OT suicide or starvation? What would Jesus do? It was a fair qnestioy for the man to ask. It was the only question ho could ask, supposing him to be a disciple of Christ, but what a question for any man to bo obliged to ask under Mich conditions!" All this and moredid Henry Maxwell fonder. All tho others were thinking in the same way. Tho bishop sat there with a look HO stern and sad tltat it was not bard to tell how tho question moved him. Dr. Bruce had his head bowed. The human problem had never seemed to him so tragic as since he had taken the pledge and Vft his church to enter the settlement. What would Jesus do? It was a terrible question, and slill the man stood there, tall and gaunt and al most terrible, with bis arm -tret -lied Dut in an appeal which grew every sec ond in meaning. Al length Mr. Maxwell spoke: "Is there any man in the room who is a Christian <b ciple who has IK • n in this condition anil lnm tried to »lo as Jesus would do? If so. sui h a man can answer bis question hettei than I can. There was a moment's hush over tho room, and then a man near the front of the hall slowly rose. lie was an old man, and the hand he laid on the back of the bench in front of him trembled as he spuke "I think 1 can safely say that I heve many times been in just such a condi tion and have always tried to be a Christian under all conditions. I don't know that I have always asked this question, 'What would Jesus dot' when I have been out of work, but I do know I have tried to be his disciple at all times. Yes," the man went on, with a sad smile that was more pathetic to the bishop and Mr. Maxwell than the young man's despair—"yes. I have beg ged, and I have been to the charity or ganizations. and I have done every thing when out of a job, except steal and lie, in order to pet food and fuel. I don't know that Je.sus wonld have done some of the thirds I have been obliged to do for a living, but I know I have never knowingly done vrronp when out of work. Sometimes I think maylie he would have starved sooner than beg. I don't know." The old man's voice trembled, and he : looked around the room timidly. A si lence followed, broken by a fierce voice from a large, black haired, heavily bearded man who sat three seats from the bishop. The minute ho spoke nearly every man in the hall leaned forward | eagerly. The man who had asked the ! question. "What would Jesus do in my case?" slowly sat down and asked the j man next to him, "Who's that?" "That's Carlsen. the socialistic lead ; er. Now you'll hear something." "This is all bosh, to my mind," be gan Carlsen. while his great, bristling beard shook with the deep, inward anger of the man. "The whole of our system is at fault. What we call civi lization is rotten to the core. There is no use trying to hide it or cover it up. We live in an age of trusts and com bines and capitalistic greed that means simply death to thousands of innocent men, women and children. I thank God, if there is a God, which I very much doubt, that I, for one, have never dared to marry and try to have a home. Home! Talk of hell! Is there any big ger than tho one this man with his three children has on his hands right this minute? And he's only one out of thousands, and yet this city and every other big city in this country has its thousands of professed Christians who have all the luxuries and comforts and who go to church Sundays and sing their hymns about giving all to Jesus and bearing tho cross and following him all the way and being saved! I don't say that there aren't some good men and women among them, but let tho minister who has spoken to us here to night go into any one of a dozen aris tocratic churches I could namo and pro pose to the members to tako any such pledge as the one he's proposed here and see how quick the people would laugh at him for a fool or a crank or a fanatic. Oh, no! That's not the remedy. That can't ever amount to anything. We've got to have a new start in the way of government. The whole thing needs re constructing. I don't look for any re form worth anything to come out of the churches. They are not with the people. They are with the aristocrats, with the men of money. The trusts and monopolies have their greatest men in the churches. The ministers as a class are their slaves. What we need is a rigiits OTTTUTCOIIIUKJU people"- Carlsen had evidently forgotten all abont the three minute rule and was launching himself into a regular ora tion that meant, in his usnal surround ings, before his usual audience, an hour at least, when the man just behind him pulled him down unceremoniously and rose. Carlsen was angry at first and threatened a little disturbance, but the bishop reminded him of tho rule, and he subsided, with several mntterings in his beard, while the next speaker be gan with a very strong eulogy on the value of the single tax as a genuine remedy for all the social ills. Ho was followed by a man who made a bitter attack on the churches and ministers and declared that tho two great obsta cles in the way of all truo reform were the courts and tho ecclesiastical ma chines. When ho sat down, a man who boro every mark of being a street laborer sprang to his feet and poured out a per fect torrent of abuse against tho corpor ntions, especially the railroads. The minute his time was up a big, brawny fellow who said ho was a metal worker by trijde claimed the floor and declared that the remedy for tho social wrongs was trades unionism. This, he said, would bring on the millennium for la lior more than anything else. The next man endeavored to give some reasons why so many persons wero out of em ployment and condemned inventions as j the works of the devil. He was loudly applauded by the rest of the company. Finally the bishop called time on the "free for all" and asked Rachel to sing. Rachel Winslow had grown into a very strong, healthful, liumblo Chris tian during that wonderful year in Raymond dating from the Sunday when she first took the pledge to do as Jesus would do, and her great talent of song had been fully consecrated to tho service of lior Master. Wheu sho began to sing tonight at this settlement meet ing, she had never prayed more deeply for results to come from her voice— voice which she now regarded as tho Master's, to be used for him. Certainly her prayer was being an swered as sho sang. Sho had chosen the words: Uark. till! voice of Jmms calling, Follow me, follow met Again Henry Maxwell, sitting there. Was reminded of his first night at tho Rectangle in the tent when Rachel sang the people into quiet. The effect was tie* same here. hat wonderful power a good voice consecrated to the Muster's service always is! Rachel's great nat ural ability would have mado her one of the foremost opera singers of the age. Surely this audience had never before heard such melody. How could it? The men who had drifted in from the street sat entranced by a voice which "back in the world" never could l»e heard by tho common people because the owner of it would charge $2 or *:t for tho privilege. The song poured out through the hall as free and glad as if it were a foretaste of salvation itself. Carlson, with his great black bearded face, absorbed the music with the deep love of it peculiar to his nationality, and a tear .ran over bis cheek and glis ti neil in liis beard as his face softened and became almost noble in its aspect. Tho man out of work who bad wanted to know what Jesus would do in his place sat with grimy hand on the back of the liench in front of liiin, with his mouth partly open, his great tragedy for the moment forgotten. '1 ho song while it lasted was f.»od and work and warmth and union with his wife and babies once more. The man who bad spoken so fiercely against tho churches and the ministers sat with his head erect at first, with a look of stolid ro sistanee, as if he stubbornly resented the introduction into the exercises of anything that was even remotely con nected with the church or its form of wor hip, but gradually ho yielded to the power that was swaying the hearts of all the persons in that room, and a look of sail thonghtfnlnesH crept over his face. The bishop said to himself that night while Rachel was sinking that if the world of sinfnl, diseased, depraved, lost humanity could only have the gospel preached to it by consecrated prima donnas and professional tenors and altos and bassos he believed it would hasten the coming of the kingdom quicker than any other one force. "Why, oh, why," he cried in his heart as he lis tened. ' "has the world's great treasure in song been so often held far from the poor because the personal possessor of voice or lingers capable of stirring di vinest melody has so often regarded the gift as something with which to m*>_ke money? Shall there be 110 martyrs among the gifted ones of the earth? Shall there be no giving of this great gift as well as of others?" And Henry Maxwell again, as before, called up that other audience at the Rectangle, with increasing longing for a larger spread of the new discipleship. What he had seen and heard at the set tlement burned into him deeper the be lief that the problem of the city would be solved if the Christians in it should once follow Jesus as he gave command ment. But what of this «reat mass of humanity, neglected and sinfnl, the very kind of humanity the Saviour came to save, with all its mistakes and narrowness, its wretchedness and loss of hope—above all, its unqualified bit terness toward the church ? That was what smote Henry Maxwell deepest. Was the church, then, HO far from the Master that the people no longer found hini in the church? Was it trne that the church had lost its power over the very kind of humanity which in the early ages of Christianity it reached in the greatest numbers? How mncli was true in what the socialist leader said about the nselessnesa of looking to tlio church for reform or redemption be cause of the selfishness and seclusion and aristocracy of its members? Ho was more and more impressed with the appalling fact that the com paratively few men in the hall, now being held quiet for awhile by Rachel's voice, represented thousands of others just like them, to whom a church and a minister stood for less than a saloon or a beer garden as a source of comfort or happiness. Ought it to be so? If the church members were all doing as Jesus would do, could it remain true that armies of men would walk the streets for jobs and hundreds of them curse the church and thousands of them 2nd in the saloon their best friend ? How far were the Christians responsible for this human problem that was personally illustrated right in this hall tonight? Was it true that the great city churches would, as a rule, refuse to walk in Je sus' steps so closely as to suffer, actual ly suffer, for his sake? Henry Maxwell kept asking this ques tion even after Rachel had finished sing ing and the meeting had come to an end, after a social gathering which was very informal. He asked it while the little company of residents, with the Raymond visitors, were having a devo tional service, as the custom in the set tlement was. Ho asked it during a con ference with the bishop and Dr. Bruce which lasted until 1 o'clock. He asked it as he kneeled again before sleeping and poured out his soul in his petition for spiritual baptism on tho church in over the settlement district and saw the life of the people so far removed from the life abundantly. Would tho church members, would the Christians, not only in the cbarches of Chicago, but throughout the country, refuse to walk in his steps if, in order to do so. they must actually take up a cross and fol low him? This was tho ono question that con tinually demanded answer. H* had Jlanned, when ho came to the city, to return to Raymond and bo in his own pulpit on Sunday, but Friday morning ho had received at the settlement a call from tho pastor of one of the largest churches in Chicago and had been in vited to fill tho pulpit for both morning and evening services. At first ho hmitatod, but finally ac cepted, seeing in it tho hand of tho Spirit's guiding power. Ho would test his own question. Ho would prove the truth or falsity of tho charge made against the church at tho settlement meeting. How far would it go in its self denial for Jesus'sake? How close would it walk in his stops? Was tho church willing to suffer for its Master? Saturday night ho spent in prayer nearly tho whole night. 1 here had nev er been so great a wrestling in his soul, even during his strongest experiences in Raymond. Ho had, in fact, entered uj)on a new experience. Tho definition of his own discipleship was receiving an added test at this time, and lie was being led into a larger truth of his Lord. Tho great church was filled to its ut most, Henry Maxwell, coming into tho pulpit from that all night vigil, felt tho pressure of a great curiosity on the part of the people. They had heard of tho Raymond movement, as all the churches had, and the recont action of Dr. Bruce had added to tho general interest in the pledge. With thin curiosity was some, thing deeper, more serious. Mr. Max well felt that also, and in tho knowledge that the Spirit's presence was bis living strength he brought his lnossago and gave it to tho church that day. ll.i had never been what would bo called a great preacher. Ho had not tho force or the quality that makes remark able preachers. But ever since ho had promised to do as Jesus would do he had grown in a certain quality of per suasiveness that had all tho essentials of true eloquence. This morning the peo ple felt tho complete sincerity and hu mility of a man who had gone deep into the heart of a great truth. After tell ing briefly of soino results in his own church in Raymond since tho pledge was taken ho went on to ask tho ques tion lie had been asking since the settle ment meeting. Ho had taken for his theme tho story of tho young man who came to Jesus asking what ho must do to obtain eternal life. Jesus had tested him : "Sell aU that thou bast and give to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven. And. come; follow me." But th«' young man was not willing to suffer to that extent. If following Jesus meant suffering in that way, he was not willing. Ho would like to follow Ji'sus, but not if ho bad to givo up so much. "Is it true,"'continued Henry Max well, and his fine, thoughtful faco glowed with a passion of appeal that utirtcd the jtooplo at) they had seldom been stirred "is it true that the church of today, tlio church that is called after Christ's own name, would refuse to follow .lesns at t)u» expense of Buffering, of physical loss, of temporary gain? The statement was made at a largo gathering in the settlement last week l,v a leader of workingmen that it was hopeless to look to the church for any reform or redemption of society. On what was that statement based Plain ly on the assumption that the church contained for the most part men anil women who thought more of their own case and luxury than of the suffer, ngs ami needs and sins of humanity. How far was that true? Arn the Chris! ians of America.ready to have their disciple ship tested T , 1 low. Ijjiopt the lUCU who Mo * possess large wealth ? Are ready toi take that wealth and use it $9 Jesos would? How about the men andwo:.:en of great talent ? Are they reacly to o P.- secrate that talent to humanity, as undoubtedly would do? [TO BE CONTINUED.! ORCHARD WORK. D«Kiii)inK Inafrl Kukm. Cutting Out l)rnd Limbs, Etc. There is plenty of orchard work in the winv*r if one lias tnany trees. There are the borers to liunt for, and If they are found and killed It will be time well spent. If none Is found, the owner may consider himself so very fortunate that he need uot regret the loss of the time. There are the bunches ot" eirgs of the tent caterpillar 111 a little silvery looking ring around the small twigs near the ends of the branches. They show very plainly when the sun Is shining on them, and if tliey are cut off and burned now there will be fewer foes to light next spWun. Then there are dead limbs, leaves, weeds and piles of rubbish which may be harboring Insects or their eggs or the germs of fungous dis eases which should be collected to gether and burned as soon as they ar® dry enough, and last, but not least, before the leaf buds open spray every tree and every branch of the tree so as 10 wet it well with the strong cop per sulphate solution, using OLC pound of the sulphate to 15 gallons of water for all but the peach, for which use one pound to 25 gallons. Do not fail to do this if you would be free from * blight, scab or cracked fruit or from anthracnose or rust on the blackberry and raspberry or the grapevines. This is, however, proper work for early spring. The American Cultivator, in which the foregoing occurs, also says: We fully agree with the theory that the best time to trim fruit trees is In May or early Jane, as the bark will imme diately begin to grow over the wound, so as to cover the space between bark and hard wood if It does not entirely cover the scar. We do not like to cut anything but dead limbs in winter, while if priming is done In early spring, when the sap is thin, it will bleed too much, causing bark and wood to sepa rate. We do not know so well about the shade trees, excepting that we would not trim a maple in the spring or any coniferous evergreen at any time excepting early winter. We have, however, cut limbs from apple trees in botli fall and winter, leaving a stump about a foot long to be taken off In May. We always cut large limbs to leave such a stump, and at the second cut we can handle that so that it will not split back beyond the cut, as it sometimes does when a heavy limb is sawed off. By making this iirst amputation at a leisure time we had much less to do In May, when we wanted to be planting or sowing seed, and if the branches cut in winter were taken away It was little work to carry off the pieces a foot long. If limbs to be taken off were not larger than a man's thumb, we cut them at any time, though It might be better to .!» It In Mnv —i bee can puncture the skin of the grape comes up again in Rural New Yorker. A correspondent writes: Last winter, when I packed my bees for cold weath er, 1 put a piece of good, strong oil cloth over the frames and then filled phosphate sacks with chaff and straw and packed it tightly on the oilcloth. I think now that I made a mistake In putting on that oilcloth. It prevented any upward ventilation and allowed no escape of moisture, two things that are essential to the successful winter lug of bees. The bees soon recognized the fact that "some one had blunder ed" and so proceeded to correct the error by gnawing or biting or punctur ing their way not only up through the strong oilcloth, but also right on through the heavy bagging, thus reach ing the chaff and straw, which proved a ready absorbent of their moisture and gave them some ventilation also. Now these holes, many of them large enough to run my open hand through, were literally eaten through those two thicknesses of strong cloth, and It would seem to be about as difficult a Job for the bee to gnaw his way through these tough cloths as It would be for him to puncture the thin skin of a ripe grape or for a man to bite Into a "whole large pumpkin." It matters not Just how the bee got through these cloths, whether by gnawing or_ biting or digging with his feet or puncturing with a "soft, pliable proboscis," for by that same method, whatever It was, ho could certainly open the thin skin of a ripe grape and help himself to tho sweets therein without the aid of "some other Insect." Cattlnu Hack lleaim and Tomaloo. Quite out of the ordinary Is ono fea ture of bean aud tomato culture prac ticed by a Iturnl New Yorker corre spondent. He states that be cut back both his lima beans aud tomatoes to promote early maturity. Abundant rains caused the beans to grow ex cessively without much bloom. "We went over the entire 1,000 poles," he says, "in less than two hours with a large butcher knife. We pruned them back even with the top of the poles, and any excess of lateral growth was treated in the same manner. In this way we were able to gather beans sev , ral days earlier than we could had we hot given nature this needed nsslst ance." The tomatoes were pruned back twice "We had the llrst ripe tomatoes to sell in this locality. The llrst prun ing was done when the tomatoes were ahotit as large as a doorknob, lhe ef fect was almost magical. They grew a little larger and then ripened very f„ s i or course we destroyed the blossom promise for a lot of fruit, but new blossoms soon formed from the lateral branches and will come on lat er The second shortening back was done two weeks- later than the llrst. We found an excessive vine growth again, some of It. In fact, four feet high. Wife and myself went out with our large knives and went over the 4,(M plants l» two and a half hours." A <ir«tve Error. "Uld you ever make a serious mis take in a prescription?" "Never but once," answered the drug clerk as a gloomy look passed over bis face. "I charged a man 30 cents for a prescript lon instead of 35. —Washing ton Star. Mio-rli>Ki'nlil( > A([f. We believe a young man and a young woman should not marry until sho knows how to trim her own hats aud lie Is prepared to admit that the baby got its snub nose from Its fathers folks. Detroit Journal. HI tuple Tr«t. Mrs. Sharptongue —I fear my hus band's mind Is affected. Is then; any sure test ? ltoetor Tell him you'll never speak to him again. If he laughs, he's sane. I —New York Weekly.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers