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.