COOP TIMES I When the food times come, they needn't When the good times coma, then the right beat the drum, shall trample wrong, For the weary world will know it when the The world shall move forever to a hallelula good times come; song; There 11 be music on the hilltops and musio And joy will bless And brighten, and sorrow on the plains, will be dumb, And music in the tinkle and the twinkle of In that mad and merry season when the the rains! good times come ! —V. h. Stanton, in Atlanta Constitution. • Bejoi lis Green-Baize Door, i There was a mystery beyond the green-baize door; tangible or intangi ble nobody knew,since no one but Mr. Blakely ever saw the inside of tha door which shut his private room at Messrs. Blakely and Stephen's bank from the narrow passage connecting it with the general offices. We were so accustomed to the green-baize doar, and to the rule that no one was to ap proach it, that we did not often give the mystery much thought Even Mr. Sharsley, the head cashier, was not permitted access. Clients and callers of all kinds Mr. Blakely inva riably interviewed in another room, where he was summoned by an electric bell connected with the green room, as we used to call it There was nothing strange in the baize door itself; a plain green door, with a brass handle, which in no way influenced the secret springs by which the door opened and closed. Brass headed nails marked the outlines of the door's panels. A less suggestive door never swung on hinges. Yet for ten years (the length of time I had been at the bank) that door had pos sessed the most melancholy and un canny influence over the bank's staff, from cashier to charwoman. But no one knew why. Mr. Blakely was sole proprietor of the bank, which was the only one in town and showed every seninlance of the soundest financial basis; and the magnificence of his income was clearly displayed at Somers Towers,his splen did residence two miles out, where, at the time of this story, he lavished tha luxuries of life upon his second wife, a very lovely aud proud young lady half his own age—or '25. Mr. Blakely was a man strangely devoid of eccentricities, considering his conduct concerning the baize d o ■; the chief faults the bank staff found with him were his indefatigability,and that whenever there was business to be done in London—selling or buying stock, buying cash,etc. —he invariably attended to it himself. I was seated at the desk of the head cashier, wlio was away on a short holi day, one morniug in September, when one of our clients e.itered the counting house. "Mr. Boyton, look here," he said, slijjping a crown-piece upon the coun ter. "Where did you get it?" I took up the coin and rang it. It rang unmistakably true. "What's wrong with it?" I inquired, examining it closely without noticing any defect "Lid I give it to you?" "Yes. Look at the edge; the letters are missing—it's quite smooth." He was right; the edge was as smooth as that of a four-shilling piece. I weighed it and found it true weight, audit properly resisted the other tests. "It's perfectly good," I said. "No doubt it is of an experimental mint, and got into circulation by mistake. How will you have it?" "I don't care; half-crowns." I passed him the money, and, as he went away, I slipped the crown into my pocket, intending to keep it as n curiosity. But, later in the day, when Mr. Blakely was in the office, I showed it to him. His handsome dark face clouded as he took it and examined the edge. "How did we come by it, Mr. Boy ton?" he asked. He immediately re sumed his natural easy manner when I explained that I had passed it out and had it returned. "Curious!" he muttered. "One of an experimental mint, for it's dated 1896. Do you think we've any others similar?" "No; I have been through them." "Strauge! Well, I'll keep it It is proliably unique." I was disappointed with his deci sion, as I wanted the coin myself. It was against my principles, however,to protest. I went back to my desk, re paid myself the five shillings I tilled for the coin, nud forgot the matter— forgot it entirely until some weeks later, wheu Mrs. Blakely, to the utter astonishment of the bank's staff, turned up an hear or so before lunclieou time. Up to that time, although she had been married more than ten months, Mrs. Blakely had never been inside the bank. Now she drove up in her carringe, came in proudly and asked for Mr. Blakely. I replied that if she would step into the waiting room I would summon him in the usual way. "No. Show me into his private room. lam Mrs. Blakely," she said, hastily. "I recognized you, madam," I re plied. "But the rule is that all visi tors, whoever they may be, are to be shown into the waiting room, where Mr. Blakely will interview them." "Nonsense!" she "Such rules do not refer to Mr. Blakely's wife. The room is at the end of the passage, is it not?" "You are putting me in an awkward position," I replied. "I am not al lowed to let visitors approach the green-baize door " "Ah! Her proud eyes flashed. "So there is a green-baize door which no one approaches? I interrupted you, sir." *1 was saying, madam, that if I let you pass, I offend Mr. Blakolj by neglecting an old-established rule. On the other baud, I offend you. Pray step into the waiting room, where Mr. Blakely will join you in less than half the time we have spent in argu ment " When Mr. Blakely came, he did so in his habitual leisurely manner, and he walked into the waiting room, leav ing the door ajar. "Mr. Blakely," she said, haughtily, *'l have been insulted by one of your clerks. He refused to admit me to your room, although ho knew me." She pause 1 in a way that seemed to tell me she was looking at him search ingly. "My dear girl," he replied, teuder ly, "what has come over you? You're not like yourself, Mary. What is it? And what has brought you here so un expectedly?" "Did you not hear what I said, Richard? Surely, the fact that I have been insulted is reason enough for the change you remark." "But not reason for your advent, since you must have been insulted through coining here," he responded, with his usual promptness. "Since wheu has your wife been denied the right to enter yonr private room?" she demanded. "Ever since she wrongly assumed that she had such a riaht, Mary. My clerks have their orders; they obey them. You cannot blains them for up holding rules I myself have framed. Come, dear, be reasonable. What do you want? I am very busy this morn ing. The market is very unsteady just now." At this juncture it struck me that it was incumbent upon mc to let them know in some way that they con 1(1 be overheard, or else to get out of ear shot. While undecided which course to take, I heard what aggravated my indecision. "Tell me, Eicbard; had tot known I was coming, would you 1 a e allowed your clerk to den}' me access to your private room?" Mrs.Blakely inquired, somewhat sternly it seemed to me. ".Did you come here to ask me that?" "Answer me, yes or no!" she in sisted. "The rule is of many years' stand ing, Mary," he said, deliberately. "If it were set aside for you it would be the thin end of the wedge; my room would no longer be private." "l'ou indorse your cle k's insult?" "I uphold my clerk who upholds the bank's ru!e j ." She was evidently nonplussed for the moment by the fine fencing, for she paused. "If you have any shopping to do in town," he said, "you might come back in an hour, when I shall bo free to drive home with you." "Bichard," she said, quietly, "I married you, not for your money, but because I loved you. 1 loved you be fore a younger man because I believed I could trust my whole soul to you. We have been married—how long?— ten months; and until within ft few hours my confidence in you has been unshaken. You let me into all your secret hjpes and fears; you kept noth ing from me. Suddenly I hear a strange story about a mysterious green-baize door, which n > one but yourself is allowed to approach. I call the carriage and drive here to fathom the depths of the mystery which I fancied was only imaginary. But I am more than amused now; I am piqued; my confidence iu you is at stake. Let me see into the room which no other person but you has ever entered, and I'll go home." "You are the first person to suggest that auy mystery attaches itself to the room, dear," he replied, with a good natured lßUgh. "It is simply a humble room, where I work too hard to admit of being disturbed at all hours of the day." "Will you let me see? I don't doubt you—why should I? But lam determinedly inquisitive. Will you show me the room?" "Not today, dear, I am very busy." I felt her brush past me as she came out of the room, aud saw her walk round the her lips tightly compressed and her head very high. ***** * * The following morniug when I turned up at the bank the porter nißt me with the inquiry, Had I seen any thing of Mr. Blakely? No? Strange! No one had seen him since the bank closed the night before. He was uot in the bank—had hot been home—in deed, it was Mrs. Blake'y who had driven dowu the first thing to inquire about him; and no one had seen him. "Was he on the premises when you locked up?" I asked. "Can't say; shouldn't think so," the porter replied. "I left the side door on the latch uutil seven,as usual, aud then bolted up, expecting ne must have gone—generally goes before that, you know, sir. He must have gone, for I rung his bell again aud again this morning." Mrs. Blakely came up to me at this moment, looking pale and anxious. "Mr. Boyton," she asked, "have yon seen my husband? You were the last to leave, I believe?" "Yea, madam; bat I have not seen Mr. Blakely since be put you iut chaos. "Porter," she taid, in a hushed voice, suddenly turning her ashy face towards the light which crept down the passage from tbe farther door, "get me a lantern. Tben you can. both leave us. Mr. Boytijn's will be all tbe help I need." When the porter returned she took the lantern from him, and watched biui retreat down the passage into tbe counting bouse. "Prop tbe door so that it won't 1 fall," she said. I did so, and, returning to her side, took the lantern from her. "You had better not coune, uiadnm," j I said. "I am coming," she replied,calmly. We passed through tbe doorway aud into a small, dark room, poorly fur nished with a little office furniture aud littered with papers. There was no sign of Mr. lllakely. The one window in the wall was high up; its glass was fastened, aud the blinds were pulled, j "Look!" cried Mrs.Blakely. "Look! A trap-door!" I crossed to ber, and glancing down saw a square bad been cut out of tbe carpet, iu tbe centre of which was a ring by which I raised a trap. Looking through we saw a ladder leading down to darkness. "Goon, sir; goon," said Mrs. ' Blakely, in a hollow voice. "We must goon." Going carefully down four rungs of the ladder I held tbo lantern out at ' arm's leugth aud surveyed tbe scene. ' A stone-walled chamber stretched 1 before me like a large vault. In one wall was a low, barred door; in a cor- j ner was a small furnace. A peculiar looking machine stood in tbe middle of tbe vault, and upon a ledge of its ! frame tested a row of silver coins. j "Go ou," said a voice above me. I went dowu, and, stepping as I i thought to the ground, my foot en- , countered something soft. I sprang aside, avoiding it, and saw tbo body of Mr. Blakely huddled up in a broken bundle. "Don't come; for pity's sake don't come!" I cried to Mrs. Blakely. But already she was half-way down tbo ladder. In auotber moment she had i stepped upon ber husbaud's body and had shrieked. "Ah, me; ah, me!" she moaned, propping the nodding head upon her knees with frouzied tenderness. "Richard, husbanJ! You did not merely dream—you lived your crimes that night—and now! Ob, Mr. Boyton, do you understand all this? My bus baud is a felon! Deal, my heart is dea'. But he is well dead, better dea.l. This is bis secret! Last night —the nigbt before he was restless in his sleep, he talked of coining, yes of coining—coining silver coins and reaping profit—profit. 'You're a liar,' be cried once in bis sleep, 'the coins are good—requal to tbe Miut's. Tbe Mint makes profit ou its silver coins, and why not 1?' He sail that, and, as I lay awake, I hoped he merely di earned—l knew he d- earned. But iu* I know the truth! Dead, dead! Yes, yes, and if you lived these hands should kill you for tbe ignominy and shame! Richard,oh! BicLard,Richard!' ******* Little beyond evidence of identifica tion and as to the cause of death wa» given at the public inquest held upon the body of Richard Blakely, but the police puisned the mattei to some length in the hope of discovering the men who must have helped the banket in bis secret silver mint. Tbe police found the door in tin vault opened upon a narrow subter ranean passage, running to a cottage hard by. But when the police raided the cottage they foun l it completely deserted. Their theory is that the banker's assistants went to the va ilt, found their employer lying at the fool of the ladder with his neck broken; and realizing that exposure must fol low, they took flight without delay. Beyond the police,only Mrs. Blakely an ! myself know the true secret that I hid beyond the green-baize door,- Tid-Bits. Da TAT,MAGE'S SERMON. SUNDAY'S DISCOURSE BY THE NOTED DIVINE. * Subject: The Gospel'* Triumph—Victories of the Christian Religion Depleted— Transformations Wrought by Christ's Teachings—Drunkards Reclaimed. [Copyright, Louis Elopscb, 1899.] WASHINGTON, D. o.—The antagonists of the Christian religion are In this sermon of Dr. Talmage met in a v-ery unusual way, and the triumphs of the Gospel are depict ed. The text is Ezekiei zxl., 21, "He made his arrows bright, he consulted with im ages, be looked in the liver." Two modes of divination by which the king of Babylon proposed to And out the will of God. He took a bundle of arrows, put them together, mixed them up, then pulled forth one, and bjr the inscription on it decided what city he should first as sault. Then an unimal was slain, and by the lighter or darker color of the liver the brighter or darker prospect of success was inferred. That is the meaning of the text, "He made his arrows bright, he consulted with images, he looked in thellver." Stupid delusion! And yet all the ages have been filled with delusions. It seems as if the world lores to be hoodwinked, the delusion of the text only a specimen of a vast number of deceits practiced upon the human race. In the latter part of the last century Jo hanna Southcote came forth pretending to have divine power, made prophecies, had chapels built in her honor, and 100,000 dis ciples came forward to follow her. About five years before the birth of Christ Apol lonius was born, and he came forth, and after five years being speechless, aooording to the tradition, he healed the sick, and raised the dead, and preached virtue, and, according to the myth, having deceased, was brought to resurrection. The Delphic oracle deceived vast multi tudes of people; the Pythoness seated In the temple ot Apollo uttering a crazy jar gon from which the people guessed their individual or national fortunes or mlsfor fortunes. The utterances were of such a nature that you could read them any way you wanted to read them. But there are those whosaytbat all these delusions combined are as nothing com pared with the delusion now abroad In the world—the.delusion of the Christian relig ion. That delusion has to-day 100,000,000 dupes. It proposes to enoirele the earth with its girdle. That which has been called a delusion has already overshadowed the Appalachian range on this side of the sea, ana it has overshadowed the Balkan and Caucasian ranges on the other side of the sea. It has conquered England and the United States. This champion delusion, this hoax, this swindle of the ages, as it hue been called, has gone forth to oonquer the islands of the Pacific, and Melanesia and Micronesia and Malayan Polynesia have already surrendered to the delusion. Yea, it has conquered the Indian archi pelago, and Borneo and Sumatra and Cel ebes and Java have fallen under its wiles. In the Fiji Islands, where there ure 120,000 people, 102,000 have already become the dupes of this Christian religion, and If things goon as they are now going on and if the Influence of this great hallucination of the ages cannot be stopped it will swal low the globe. Supposing, then, that Christianity is the delusion of the cen turies, as some|have pronounced it, I pro pose to show you what has been accom plished by this chimera, this fallacy, this hoax, this swindle of the ages. And, in the first place, I remark that this of the Christian religion has made wonderful transformations of human char acter. I will go down the aisle of any church in Christendom, and I will find on either side that aisle thoso who wore once profligate, profane, unclean of speech and unclean of action, drunken and lost. But by the power of this delusion of the Chrfs taln religion they have been comflotely transformed, and now they ate kind and amiable and loving and useful. Everybody sees the change. Undor the power of this great hallucination they have quit their former associates, and, whereas they once found their chief delight among those who gambled and swore and raced horses, now they find their chief joy among those who go to prayer meetings and churches, so complete Is the delusion. Yea, their own families have noticed it—the wife has no ticed it, the children huvenotioed It. The money that went for rum now goes for books und for clothes and for education. He Is a new man. All who know him say there has been a wonderful change. What Is the causo of this change? This great hallucination of the Christian relig ion. There Is as much difference betwoen what he Is now and what he once was (js between a rose and a nettle, as between u dove and a vulture, as between day und night. Tremendous delusion! Admiral Farragut, one ot the most ad mired men of the American navy, early be came a victim of this Christian delusion, and, seated not long before his death at Long Branch, he was giving some friends un account of his eurly life. He said: "My father went down in behalf of the United States Government to put an end to Aaron Burr's rebollton. I was a cabin boy and went along with him. I could swear like an old salt. I could gambltf'in every style of gambling. I kney all the wickedness there was at thut time aboard. One day my father cleared every body out of the cabin except myself and locked the door. He said: 'David, what are you going to do? What are you going to be?' 'Well,'l said.'father, I am going to follow the sea.' 'Follow the sea and be a poor, miserable, drunken sailor, kicked and cuffed about the world, and die of a fever In ti foreign hospital.' 'Oh, no!' I said. 'Father, I will not be that; I will tread the quarter deck and command ns you do.' 'No, David,' my father said; 'no, David, a person that has your prin ciples and your bad habits will never tread the quarter deck or command.' My father went out and shut the door after him, and I said then, 'I will change, I will never swear again, I will never drink again, I will never gumblo again,' and, gentlemen, by the help of God, I have kept those three vows to this time. I soon after that became a Christian, and that decided my fate for time and for eternity.' Another captive of this great Christian' delusion. There goes Saul of Tarsus on horseback at full gallop. Where Is he go ing? To destroy Christians. He wants no better play spell than to stnnd and watch the hats and coats of the murderers who are massacring God's children. There goes the same man. This time be is afoot. Where Is he going now? Going on the road to Ostia to die for Christ. They tried to whip it out ot him, they tried to senre it out of ljlm, they thought they would give him enough of it by putting him on small diet, and denying him a cloak, and con demning him as a criminal, and bowling at him through the streets; but they could not freeze it out of him. and they could not sweat it out of htm, and they could not pound It out of blm, BO they tried the sur gery of the sword, and one summer day in 6he was decapitated.' Perhaps the mighti est intellect of the 6000 years of ,tho world's existence hoodwinked, cheated, cajoled, duped by the Christian religion. Ah, that is the remarkable thing about this delusion of Cbristlanltyl It overpow ers the strongest Intellects. Gather tbo critics, secular and religious, of this cen tury together and put a vote to them as to which is the greatest book ever written, and by large majority they will say, "Paradise Lost." Who wrote "Paradise Lost?" One of the fools who believed In this Bible, John Milton. Benjamin Frank lin surrendered to this delusion, if you may judge from the letter that he wrote to Thomas Paine begging him to destroy "The Age of Reason" in manuscript and never let it go into type, and writing afterward, In his old dayt, "Of this Jesus of Nazareth I have to say that the system of morals He left and the religion He has given us are the best things the world has everaeen or is likely to see." Patrick Henry, the electric champion of liberty, enslaved bj this delusion, so that be says, "The book worth all other btfoks put together is the Bible." Benjamin Bush, the leading physi ologist and anatomist of his day, the great medical scientist—what did he say? "The only true and perfect religion is Christian ity/' Isaao Newton, the leading philoso pher ot his time—what did he say? That man surrendering to thli delu sion of Christian religion, crying out "The subllmest philosophy on ' earth Is the philosophy of the Gospel.'* David Brewster, at the pronunciation ol whose name every scientist the world over uncovers his head, David Brewster saving, "Oh, this religion has been a great light to me, a very great light all my daysl" Presi dent Thiers, the great French statesman, acknowledging that be prayed whon he said, "I Invoke the Lord God, in whom 1 am glad to believe." David Livingstone, able to conquer the lion, able to conquer the panther, able to conquer the snvago, yet coojuiered by this delusion, this halluci nation, nils groat swindle of the ages, so when they find blm dead they find him on his knees. William E. Gladstone, tbo strongest lntelleot in England, unable to resist this chimera, this fallacy, this de lusion of the Christian religion, went to the house of God every Sabbath and often, at the invitation of the rector, read the prayers to the people. If those mighty in tellects are overborne by this delusion, what chance Is there for you and for me? Besides that, I have noticed that Qjst rate infidels cannot be depended on for steadfastness in the proclamation of their sentiments. Goethe, a leading skeptic, was so wrought upon by this Christianity thnt in a weak moment he cried out, "My belief in the Bible has saved mo In my lit erary and moral life." Rousseau, one of the most eloquent champions of infidelity, spending his whole life warring against Christianity, cries out, "The majesty of the Scriptures amazes me." Altemont, the notorious infidel, one would think he would have been Bate against the delusion of the Christian religion. Oh, no! After talking against Christianity all his days, in his last hours he cried out, "Oh, Thou blasphemed but most Indulgent Lord God, hell Itself Is a refuge if it hide me from Thy frown!" Voltaire, the most talented InfidaK the world ever saw, writing 250 publica tions, and the most of them spiteful against Christianity, himself the most notorious libertine of the century—one would huve thought he could have been depended upon for steadfastness in the advocacy of infidelity and in the war against this terri ble chimera, this delusion of the Gospel. But no; in his last hour he asks for Christian burial, and asks that they give him the sacrament of the Lord Jesus Christ. Why, vou caunot de pend upon these first rate Infidels; you cuunot depend upon their power to resist this great delusion of Christianity. Tbotnns Paine, the god of modern skeptics, -i birthday celebrated in New York and li ,- ton with great enthusiasm—Thomas Puliie, the paragon of Bible haters—Thomas Paine, about whom his brother Infidel, William Carver, wrote in a letter which I have at my house, saying that he drank a quart of rum a day and was too mean and too dishonest to pay for it—Thomas Paine, the adored of modern Infidelity—Thomas Paine, who stole another man's wife iu, England and brought her to this country —Thomas Paine, who was so squnlld and so loathsome and so drunken and so prof ligate and so beastly in his habits, some times picked out ot the ditch, sometimes too filthy to be pinked out—Thomas Pafno, one who would have thought that he could have been depended on for stead fastness against this great delusion. But no. In his dying hour he begs the Lord Jesus Christ for mercy. Powerful delusion, all conquering delusion, earth quaking delusion of the Christian religion. \ea, it goes on. It is so Impertinent, and It Is so overbearing, this chimera of the Gospel, that, having conquered the grout picture galleries of the world, the old mas ters and the young masters, it is not satis fied until it has conquered the music of the world. Look over the programme of any magnificent musical festival and see what pre the great performances and learn that the greatest ot all the subjects are religious subjects. Deluded lawyers—Lord Cairns, the high est legal authority in England, the ex-ud vlsor of the throne, spending bis vacation in preaching the Gospel of Jesus Christ to the poor people of Scotland. Frederick T. Freliughuysen, of New Jersey, once Secre tary of State, an old-fashioned Evangelical Christian, an elder in the Reformed Church. John Bright, a deluded Quaker. Henry Wilson, the Vice-President of the United States, dvlng u deluded Methodist or Congregationalism Earl of Kintore dy ing a deluded Presbyterian. Yes, this delusion of the Christian re ligion shows itself in tho fact that it goes to those who arc in troublo. Now, it is bad enough to cheat a man when ho is well and when he is prosperous, but this re ligion comes to a man when he is sick and says: "You will be well again after awhile. You are going into a land where there are no coughs, and no pleurisies, und no con sumptions, and no languishing. Tuko courage and benr up." Yea, this awful chimera of the Gospel comes to tho poor, and It says to them, "You are on your i way to vast estutes and to dividends nl- i ways declarable." This delusion of Chris tianity comes tc the bereft, and it talks of reunion before tl;e throne and of the cessa tion of all sorrow. And then, to show that this delusion will stop at absolutely noth ing, it goes to tho dying bed and fll!s tho man with anticipations. How'Jiuch better it would be to have him dlo vithout any more hope than 57,-ine and rats aud snakes! Shovel (him under! That is all. Nothing more left of him. He will never know any thing nguln. Shovel him under! Tho soul Is only u superior part of the body, and when the body disintegrates the soul dis integrates. Annihilation, vacancy, ever- , lasting blank, obliteration. »Why not pres- ; ent all that beautiful doctrine to the dying Instead ot coming with this hoax, this swindle ot the Christian religion, und fill ing the dying man with anticipations of j another life until some In the last hour have oiupped their hands, and somo have i shouted, and some have sung, and eomo have boen so overwrought with jov that ! they could only look ecstatic? Palace j gates opening, they thought—diamond coronets fiasbing, hands beckoning, or- 1 chestras sounding. Little children dying actually believing they saw their departed parents, so that although the little chil dren had been so weak und feoble and sick for weeks they could not turn on their dy ing pillow at the last, In a paroxysm of rapture uncontrollable they sprang to their feet und shouted, "Mother, catch me; I am coming." And'to show the immensity of this delu sion, this awful swindle of the Gosprei of Jesus Christ, I open a hospital, and I bring Into that hospital the deathbeds of u great many Christian people, aud I take you by the hund, and I walk up and down the wards of that hospital, apd I ask a few questions. I ask, "Dying Stephen, what have you to say?" "Lorti, Jesus, receive my spirit." "Dying John Wesley, what have you to say?" "The best of all is God is with us." "Dying Edward Payson, what have you to say?" "I float in a sen of glory." "Dying John Bradford, what have you to say?" "If there be uny way of go ing to heaven on horseback, or in a fiery oharlot, it is this."] O my Lord, my God. what a delusion, what u glorious delusion! Submerge mo with it, fill my eyes and ears with it, put it under my bead for a pillow—this delusion spread it over me for «, canopy, put It un derneath me for an outspread wing, roll it over me In ocean surges 10,000 fathoms deep. If infidelity, and if atheism, and it annihilation are a reality and the Chris tian religion la a delusion, give me the de lusion. Well, we will soon understand It all. Your life and mine will soon be over. We will come to tho last bar ot tho music, to the last act of the tragedy, to the last page ot the book—yea, to the last line and to the las'- word—and to you and me It will either be midnooo or mtdnightl A TEMPERANCE COLUMN. THE DRINK EVIL MADE MANIFEST IN MANY WAYS. A Modern Instance—An Army Officei Who Believe* the Liquor Traffic 1* ■ Great Curie to Our Soldier*—lt 1* th« Enemy of Discipline. Who said Jim's dead? I guess there's some mistake. It don't seem more 'n six months age An' 'taint above a year, I know, That I bid him good-bye, an' said to him. "Let's take a drink fer friendship, Jim Jest one 'er the old time's sake." Jim shook his head, 'n' said He hed never teched a drop; That he'd promised his mother he would n't drink, An' he 'lowed she'd cry, 'n' what 'ud sh« think If she knowed he had broke his word, had Jim, An' she alovln' 'n' trustln' him, An' Jim her support an' prop. But I lafTed 'n' chaffed, 'N' callel blm some names, ye see. 'N' 'lowed that such 'fraldlee wa'nt worth no price. That he wouldn't be likely to cut much Ice, If he hadn't more man Inside of his clothes Than to want ter refuse a partln' dose . With an old time friend like me. 'N' Jim gave in, did Jim, 'N' drunk quick, 'n' held his breath, I said, "Here's luck to ye, old fel'," 'N' Jim said, "Better say luck to .- Well. I never had heard .Tim swear afore; Tb<«n he went like shot outside the dooiv With a face white 'n' scared as death. Who said Jim's dead? I guess there's some mistake. ! Drunk? Killed a woman crossin' the track? I Ills mother? Run his engine smack Into an open switch, 'n' then WHS killed himself 'n' the fireman? j Mighty quick work things make. Sorry fer Jim, fer him j 'N' me was sorter chums one time. I 'low that Jim got swamped on drink , 'N' yet he wa'nt the feller you'd think 1 That 'ud goto extremes—but one can' 1- tell. , Just a year ago, I remember well, I Jim thought drink was bad as a crime! —S. B. McManus, in Ham's Horn A Touching; Incident. I have read of a town meeting In Penn sylvania where the question of license was to be decided, writes a correspondent of the Herald and Presbyter. As the ques tion was about to be put there arose from one corner of the room a miserable female, wrinkled and gaunt, nnd stretching out her arms in a shrill voice she cried: "Look upon me. You all know me, or once did. You all know that I was once the mistress of the best farm in the township. You all know too, I had one of the best—the most devoted of husbands. You all know how I "bad five noble-hearted, industrious boys. Where are they now? Doctor, where ar» they now? You all know. You all know they lie in a row side by side, in yonder | churchyard; all—every one of them filling a drunkard's grave! They were all taught to believe that temperate drinking was safe—excess alone ought to be avoided; and they never acknowledged excess. But I saw the gradual change coming over my family and prospects with dismay and horror; I felt we were all to be over whelmed in one common ruin. I tried to ward off the blow. I tried to break the spell—the delusive spell—ln which the idea of the benodts of temperate drinking had involved husband and sons. I besge !, I prayed; but the odds were aguinst me.'' And. with her arms flung high, and her tall form stretched to Its utmost, and her voice raised to an unearthly pitch she ex claimed: "I shall soon stand before the judgment seat of God—l shall meet you there, you false guides, and be a witness against you all!" She spoke and vanished. But when the chairman put the question, "Shall any license be granted for the sale of spirit uous liquors?" the response was unani mous—"No!" Total Abitlnence In Hot Weather. Avoid alcoholic drinks if you want to in sure yourself In these torrid days against heat prostratlou. Whisky is first a stimu lant and then a depressant. It overworks tue heart for a time, and then there is languor due to lack of material on which to labor. Vitality Is lost and probably at the critical time. Under the Influence of liquor the mind Is deceived as to the real condition of things. Temporarily stimu lated by its action, a man is liable to ex pose himself more than he ordinarily would, or to exert himself more than is needful. Heat prostration or direct sun stroke Is the result. A curious phase of the whiskv drinking habit is that its victims imagin or try to make themselves believe that liquor may be used in all emergencies. In winter they use It to protect them against the cold, and In summer Its refrigerating qualities are extolled. But those who put aay thought Into the matter may see for them selves the absurdity of such conflicting claims. As a matter of fact, neither in summoi ror winter Is alcoholic drink necessary. Those who abstain fr .m its use.utter.y, are happier and healthier than the people who look upon It as a panacea for all ills, and who use or abuse it accordingly. Try let ting it severely alene and notice the bene ficial results. Crime* Traced to Drink. Liquor selling among the Indians has been pretty well suppressed. For sixty years the Qovernmeut has attempted tc enforce prohibition umong Its wards In In dian Territory. Congress made it a penal offense to carry whisky or any other In toxioatlng liquor Into an Indian reserva tion, and a similar penalty was Imposed upon Its sale to Indians anywhere. To en force this law the courts have been in creased and huudredsof deputy marshals have been employed both in the Territory and along the border. Years ago, wlien the Indians were practi cally alone upon their reservation, It was a difficult task to control their thirst foi fire water, but when 850,000 white men wer« added to the population the problem be came almost impossible of solution. If he can be kept sober the Indian makes a good citizen down there, but when he gets a few ounces of fire water into his veins all hi! savage instincts and passions are aroused and he becomes a demon. Niuety-flve pei cent, of the crimes of all kinds committed In Indian Territory can be traced to drink and nearly all the business of the courts provided by the whisky peddlers. The Crusade In Brief. J The saloon Is an incubus upon ail indus try. The saloon is a legalized drunkard fas tory. Don't try to quarantine the saloon, bal help to kill It. By their fruit* y* shall know them—ap ply this to the saloon. In the keen competition of life men can not afford to Indulge In liquor. It the saloon Is wrong, as all admit, car any amount of money make It right? License Is not Intended to stop the li quor traffic, but to perpetuate it by law.