THE TWO LOVERS. THE XAIt. 'BE BOT. She dries her golden hair upon the golden She dries her golden hair upon the golden sand, sand— Moist breezes steal from ovo-seas to flit The \-srv sun is glad to shine above her by her; so. She seems the queenliest girl in all the land, She lets that fellow lead her by her little And I, a Heaven-blest mortal just to sit by hand her. When wading tn the surf, although I love But, though the sun drop 9 kisses from above her so. lo her, Of course, it's true ! she really doesn't know A nuin must not be rash, you know; it yet— One simply can't refrain from making love I s'pose I'll have to wait, yon know, to her; ' As I'm not big enough to show it yet- But, then, she has no cash, you know ! Because I'm only eight, you know. She seems a Nairn! dripping from her dip- If I were big I'd give her everything I ping there, had— A Naiad with kind eyes of pictured char- A thousand marble 9, balls and tops—and ities— marry her; That smile at one from out the gleaming sea- I'd work for her all day and try to make her wet hair— glad, And golden hair with golden heart are rari- And over muddy placej I should carry ties. her. And then her laugh! The laugh of my I'd light for her, and bo a soldier, too, for divinity her. Is like the wave's soft plash, you know; And everything that's great, you know. But to propose would be an assininity, I'd love her,then, forever,and be true for her— Because she has no cash, you know ! But, oh! I'm only eight, you know! —O'Neill I.athain, in Puck. Va-CONNECTICUTTRISCILLA. j 4 How She Rebuked Her John Alden j If anyone had hinted to pretty Mat tie Woolston that she would ever fig lire as a heroine in a story she would have opened her brown eyes wide in amazement. She was the only child of good old Dr. Woolston of Greyport, a thriving village in Connecticut, and in the circle of village society was con sidered at once a belle and au heiress. Hair and eyes the color of a chestnut wheufijst the burr uncloses, a com plexion as soft as satin nnd white as milk, with the prettiest rose tint of color on the round cheeks; white,even teeth set in a pretty, smiling mouth, and a figure tall, slight and graceful, were the attractions in appearance of the village beauty. But those who knew Mattie Wool ston well were wont to say that her pretty face and figure were the least of her charms. She had a low, musi cal voice, a manner graceful and easy, high-bred by intuition of what was dignified and maidenly; she was the neatest housekeeper in Greyport, and all her tasteful dresses and hats were the work of her own deft fingers. She had read intelligently and could con verse well. So it is no matter for wonder that Mattie had many lovers; but foremost upon the list, to a'l appearance, was handsome Ned Gordon, who was "col lege taught" and whose father shared the aristocratic honors of Greyport with the doctor and minister, being tho only lawyer in the village. The minister was ft bache'or of neat ly 40 years of age, who had come but recently to Greyport to preside over tho church where tho Wools-tons and the Gordons had each a pew. He was a grave, reserved man, whose face bore the impress of soriows and cares couquered, and succeeded by the se rene peace that is far above the care less content that lias never known in terruption. He was not a handsome man, but had large,tender eyes under a broad white brow, and these would irradiate his cunely face with a light almost divine when he preached with au eloquence and simplicity rarely combined. His earnest simplicity was the deepest, highest eloquence, and men went from his church slowly and thoughtfully, pondering upon truths that were but homely, every day facts, but suddenly had been illu minated by earnest eloquence into God-ordaiued paths to salvation o perdition. One of these men, young, wealthy and full of talent, was Ned Gordon, Mattie's ardent admirer from boyhood. He had left her in sobbing pain of love togo to boarding school, had felt bis heart torn when college took him again from Mattio and had become more devoted than ever when he came borne "for good," to find her grown to womanhood, fairer than ever. The minister had been wont to say of Ned Gordon, when he c >nsidered the subject at all, that he"was not a bad fellow, as fellows go," being sim ply an idle hanger-on to his father's wealth, a desultory student of musty law books wheu the mood seized him, floating carelessly down life's stream, doing no especial harm by the way, but assuredly doing no good, either. Of his personal responsibility in the scheme of creation he had never thonght until Harvey Stillman came to preside over the white church at Greyport, where Ned's fine tenor was quite a feature in the choir. It must be confessed that, uuder the dull, prosy teaching of Harvey Stillmau's predecessor, the choir seat had been a gathering placj for much flirtation and mischief-making among the belle-; and beaux of the village, aud Ned's chief magnet was the certainty of sit ting near Mattie aud heat ing her clear, sweet soprano join his own voice. But before Harvey Stillman had been a month at Greyport Ned was un easily conscious that mauy of his words were as dagger thrusts at his own aimless life, and, waking to this consciousness, he also wakened to another disagreeable fact, namely, that Mattie was also realizing that life was a more earnest,real thing than she had before pictured it to herself. She had never been a drone in the hive, but she had become more active ly useful outside of ber little home world, visiting, in a quiet, unostenta tious way, amongst the poorest of her father's patients, doing good in an bnmble spirit, but with a sincere de airo to help, as far as possible, those who needed her gentle ministrations. Ned loved her more than ever for the gentle self-denials she practised so quietly that only those who were bene fitted knew of them; but. to his great dismay, there came .a little gulf be tween himself ami his love, widening so gradually he could not tell where it had commence 1 or would end. For the first time since he was ft mere boy he saw that Mattie gave him ouly the warm friendship of years of brotherly and sisterly intercourse, where he had given the first and only love of his life. She seemed drifting from him, absorbed in lier new duties and leaving him but little margin of time for the recreations they had shared for years. He was appalled by the fear of losing her, and yet she kept him from telling her either his hopes or his feaiß. "She thinks J aui an idle, gooc'l-for nothiug fellow," he thought, "and I never got any chance t > tell her how I mean to buckle on iny armor, too, and do my share of work. 1 aui stu lying hard, and father will give me a start in my profession that can be ma le a comfort to the afflicted and a light to the down-trodden. 1 moan to be all even Mattie can wish me to be, but I can't get a word with her now. Last even ing she was with that poor, dying child of Grossman's, and today she- is trying to comfort his mother. The last time 1 called she was at the Dor cas, and when I do see her she is nit the careless, merry-hearted Mattie of old. She thinks I am the same,though, and despises me for an idle good-for nothing." Some such pondering was in Ned's mind when,driving up the maiu street of the village, he overtook Harvey Stillman, going in the same direction. He reined up at once. "It you are g ing my way, Mr. Still man," he said, "would you let me drive you to your destination?" "I am afraid I am going too far for yon," was the reply. "I am on my way to Hawson's p!a e." "How fortunate I met yon. It is fully live miles. Get in and Black Prince will soon carry us there." "But you?" "My time is yours. Ho not refuse me." The minister accepted the iuvita tion, and before he fully realized what he was saying Ned was making him n confidant of all his perplexities anil resolutions, till even his love story came out in earnest words. Led on by the quietly expressed sympathy in bis resolves to enter upon a noble and more useful life, impetuous Ned, by a sudden inspiration, said: " T f only Mattie could kuow Bow much it would help me to feel sure of her love! I cannot say if she ever cared for me as I for her, but if I could believe she would be my wife when I deserved her it would stimu late me as uo other hope on earth could do." "You think she loves you?" Harvey Stilhuan's very lips were white as he asked the question. "I did think so once. Now I wou'.d give all I own to be sure of it.'" There was much more to the same I urpose, ti 1 Ned, with a sudden gleam of hope, asked the minister to plead his cause. "No one has as much influence as yon have. She looks up to you as to a father," said Ned, never seeing how his listener winced at the comparison; "and if you were to tell her how her love would aid ine she might believe Ido not always mean to be the idler she has known." "I will see her," was the grave re ply. "If she loves von she shall have the happiness of giving you tho en couragement you desire." But when the drive was over and the minister entered his study the quiet gravity of his face "broke up into au expression of keenest suffering. He had borne many sorrows in his life. Death had taken his nearest and dear est; poverty had laid her heavy hand upon him; temptations had assailed him, only driven back by prayerful struggles. He had hoped to And in Greyport rest, after a long battle in life. His salary promised him an easy competence and some leisure for stud ies lie loved, without neglect of his higher duties. But before he had been in his new home many weeks Mattie Woolston's sweet,earnest face, her goodness, her unobtrusive, sincere piety had awakened in his heart an emotion he had never hoped to experi ence. Love had been a far-off possi bility for happier lives,and ho had not realized that it was seekiug entrance into his own till Ned Gordon roused him to the consciousne sof what his deep interest in Mattie signified. He loved her and he had undertaken to plead the caure of ancther to bar! Thought became such torture that lie resolved to have the dreaded interview over, to know the worst at once. He found Mattie in the parlor of her lather's handsome house, and, fearing for his own strength, told his errand gent'y. The girl looked at him with white cheeks and a startled expression, as if she had received a sudden,unexpected blow where she had looked for kind ness. Her great brown eyes had a hunted, piteous look that it went to his heart to see. She struggled for composure before she trusted her voice to speak, and it was low and tremulous when she snid; "Since you are Mr. Gordon's am bassador, tell him from me that he has my most sincere good wishes for his sucte-s in his new life. He has no warmer friend, no more earnest well w i her than myself. But I can never be hi* wife. Ido not love him. We have been like brother and sister from childhood, and I can give him my sis terly nffectiou, nothing more." "I think he is sincere in his resolu tion to make his life more earnest and useful thnn it has ever been," Harvey Stillmau said, his own pain urging him still to plead Ned's cause. "I hope he will persevere in his re solve. He may make a noble man." "But his love " "I can never return," she raid,reso lutely. "Pi ay leave me now. I—l am not well." He left her. Only a few feet from the door he turned and retraced his steps. He had satisfied his conscience; had pleaded the cause of the younger, handsomer man, whose pleasure money probably doubled and trebled his own entire income. Faithfully he had placed before Mattie all Ned's pleadings, all her influence might do for him, aud he had won only a steady refusal of the suit he urged. Now he would risk his own fate. But at the door he paused, for Mattie had thrown herself in a deep armchair, nnd with her face hidden was sobbing with a perfect passion of grief. Was it for Ned? Did she already repent her decision? Irresolute whether to retreat or advance, Harvey stood in the doorway till Mattie, neither seeing nor hearing him, "felt she was not aiono a.'.d looked up. In a moment she was on her feet, and for the first time the minister saw het eyes flash with anger. "Why do you come back?" she said. "Have you not sufficiently humiliated me?" "I?" he cried. "I humiliate you!" "What else is it to come to me tc plead Ned Gordon's love! Is he an idiot that he cannot speak himself,bat must n.ake my name a byword by prat ing of his love to every strangerV" "Miss Woolston, you misjudge him aud me—me most of all, if you imag ine I desire to humiliate you—l, who hon>..r yon above ail other women—l, who came, tearing my own heart, to plead against it for your happiness. Do not judge me harshly, Mattie, for luy love's sake!" She had so visibly brightened as ha spoke, such soft,dewy happines-i rested in the I Town eyes, such tremulous smiles gathered around »he small mouth that Harvey Stillmau felt his own heart swell with lapture. "Mattie," he cried, "I am poor, many years older than you are, and vet 1 love you with all the strength of my h ait!" "And I love you!" Riuiply as a child she told the truth of her own heart. He was not a man for any outburst of rapture. Tender ly he fold-d her in his arms, saying softly: "Thank God, darling!" Nobody'but Mattie and her betrothed kuew why Ned Gordon resolved to continue his studies in New York in stead of remaining with his father at Greyport; but years later, when he came back to the little village to take his father's j ractice, Harvey Stillmau felt, with grut'ful emotion, that the good resolutions had not faltered, but had ennobled and purified the entire life of his old rival, while Mattie gave a co-dial welcome to the pretty blue eyed wife who had won aud kept the heart of her old lover. The Reward of Prayer. Banker H. H. Pitcher of Livermore, Cal., wanted four inches of rain. It would mean the saving to him of thou sands of dollars in an agricultural way. He jokingly mentioned the matter to Mrs. A. L. Fuller, an ardent worker in the Methodist church. "Why don't you pray for it?" she asked. "Do you think it would do any good';" inquired the banker. "Certainly," she said. "If you will give me four inches of rain I will pay the debt on the Meth odist church," said the banker. Mrs. Fuller at once went home and commenced to pray. She told other members of the church about the matter, and they prayed. The whole town of 1500 people became inter ested. Two days later it commenced to rain. Steadily down it came —one inch, two inches, three and three quarters! At last, while the town held its breath, the gauge filled up to four inches, and the crops of Alameda county were saved. Then Mrs. Fuller reminded Banker Pitcher of hi 3 promise. He was Btill inclined to treat the matter as a joke, but he toed the scratch manfully and paid the church debt of S3OO. Then came the complications. Mr. Pitcher is a trustee of the Presbyterian church of Livermore, and tlie members thought he ought to help his own church instead of the Methodist. Sfrha compromised the matter by paying for extensive repairs on the Presbyterian church property. Opinion is divided as to whether tha rain came in answer to the prayers of Mrs. Fuller et.al.,but both the church people and Bauker Pitcher are satisfied with the result.—St. Louis Post-Di»- patch. DR. TALMAGES SERMON. J SUNDAY'S DISCOURSE BR THE NOTED DIVINE Subject: Advice For the Vacation—Take the Bible Along—Pleasure Seekers Ad monished Mot to Leave Religion Be hind— Temptations at Watering; Places. [Copyright, Louis Klopsch, 1899.] WASHINGTON, D. C.—At this season of the year, when all who can Ret a vacation are taking it, this dlsoourse ot Dr. Tul mage la suggestive and appropriate. The te't is John v., 2, 8: "A pool, which is called in the Hebrew tongue Bethesda, having Ave porches. In these lay a great multitude of Impotent folk, of blind, halt, withered, waiting for the moving of the water." . Outside the city of Jerusalem there was a sanative watering place, the popular re sort for invalids. To this day there is a dry basin of rock which shows that there may have been a pool there 360 feet long, 130 feet wide and seventy-live feet deep. This pool was surrounded by Ave piazzas, or porches, or bathing houses, where the patients tarried until the time when they were to step into the water. So far as re lnvigoratlon was concerned It must liave been a Saratoga and a Long Branch on a small scale, a Leamington and a Brighton combined —medical and therapeutic. Tra dition says that at a certain season of the year there was an officer of the govern ment who wotild go down to that water and pour in it some healing quality, and after that the people would come and get the medloatlon, but I prefer the plain state ment of Sorlpture that at a certain season an angel came down and stirred up or troubled the water, and then the people came and got the healing. That angel of God that stirred up the Judaean watering place had his counterpart In the angel of healing who In our day steps Into the min eral waters of Congress, or Staron, or Sul &hur Springs, or Into the salt sea at Cape iay and Nahant, where multitudes who are worn out with commercial and profes sional anxieties, as well as those who are afflioted with rheumatic, neuralgia and splenetic diseases, go and are cured by the thousands. These blessed Bethesdas are scattered all up and down our country. We are at a season of the year when rail trains are laden with passengers and bag gage on their way to the mountains and the lakes and the seashore. Multitudes ot our citizens are away for a restorative ab sence. The city heats are pursuing the people witli torch and fear of sunstroke. Tho long, silent halls of sumptuous hotels are all übuzs with excited arrivals. Tho antlers of Adirondack deer rattle under tho shot of city sportsmen. The trout make fatal snap at tho hook of adroit sportsmen, who toss their spotted brilliance Into tho game basket. The baton of the orchestral leudor taps the music stand on the hotel green, and American life has put on festal array, and the rumbling of the ten-pin alley,/and tho crack of tho Ivory balls on tho green baizod billiard tables, und the jolting of tho barroom goblets, and the ex plosive uncorking of the champagne bot tles, nnd the whirl and the rustle of the ballroom dance, and the clattering hoofs of the race eourso und other signs of social dissipation attest that the season for the great American watering place is in lull play. Music! Flute and drum and cornet a-plston and slapping cymbals wake the ecu 'en of the mountains. Olad am I that fagged out American life for the most part has an opportunity to rest and that nerves racked and destroyed will llnd a Bethesda. I believe la watering places. They recuperato ;for active service many who were worn out with trouble or overwork. They are national restoratives. Let not the commercial firm begrudge the clerk, or the employer the journeyman, or tho patient-ho physician, or the church its pastor, a season of Inoccupation. Luther used to sport with his children; Edmund Burke used to caress his favorite horse; Thomas Chalmers, In tho dark hour of tho church's disruption, played kite for re creation—so I was told by Lis own daugh ter—and tho busy Christ said to the busy upostlos, "Come ye apart awhile into tho desert und rest yourselves." And X have observed that they who do not know how to rest do not know how to work. But I have to declare this truth to-day that some of our fashionable watering places are tho temporal and eternal destruction of "a multitude that no man can number," nnd amid the congratulations of this seasou and the prospect of the departure of many of you for the country I must utter a warn ing . plain, earnest and unmistakable. TLo first temptation that is apt to hover In thtf direction is to leave your piety at home. You will send the dog and oat and canary bird to bewellc.ired for somewhere else; l"3t the temptation will be to leave your religion In the room with the blinds down and the door bolted, and then you will come back In the autumn to And that It is starved pud suffocated, lying stretched on the rug ejark dead. There Is no sur plus of piety at the watering pVioes. I never knew any one to grow very rapidly In grace at the Catskill Mountain House, or Sharon Springs, or the Pulls of Mont morency. It is generally the case that tho Sabbath is more of u carousal than any other day, und there are Sunday walks and Sunday rides nnd Sunday excursions. Elders and deacons and ministers of relig ion who are entirely Consistent at home, sometimes when the Sabbath dawns on them at Niagara Falls or the Whito Moun tains, take a day to themselves. If they go to the church, it is apt to be a sacred pa rade, and the discourse, instend of being a plain talk übout the soul, is apt to be what is called a crack sermon—that is, some discourse picked out of tho offusions of the year as the one most adapted to ex cito admiration, and in those churches, from the way the ladles hold their fans, you know that they nro not so much im pressed with the heat as with the pic turesqueness of half disclosed features. Four puny souls stand in the organ loft and squall a tune that nobody kuows, nnd worshipers with 52000 worth of diamonds on tho right hand drop a cent into the poor box, and then the benediction is pro nounced, nnd tho farce Is ended. The toughest thing I ever tried to do was to be good at a watering place. Tho air is be witched with the "world, tho flesh and the devil." There are Christians who in throe or four weoks In such u place have had such terrible rents made in their Chris tian robe that they had to koep darning it until Christmas to get it mended. The health of a great many peoplo makes nn annual visit to some mineral spring aft absolute necessity, but take your Bible along with you and tuko an hour for eecrbt prayer every day, though you bo surrounded by guffaw and saturnalia. Keep holy the Sabbath, though they deride you as a bigoted Puritan. Stand off from gambling holls and those other institu tions which propose to imitate on this side the water the Iniquities of Baden Buden. Let your moral and your immortal health keep pace with your physical recuperation and remember that all the sulphur and chalybeate springs cannot do you so much good as the healing, perennial flood that breaks forth from the "Rook of Ages." This may be your last summer. It so, make it a fit vestibule of heaven. Another temptation hovering around nearly all our watering places Is the horse racing business. We all admire the horse, but we do not think that its beauty or speed ought to be cultured at the exp<-nse ot hu man degradation. The horse race is not ot such Importance as the human raoe. The Bible intimates that a man is better than a sheep, and I suppose ha Is better than a horse, though, like Job's stallion, bis neok be clothed with thunder. Horse races In olden times were under the ban of Christian people, and In our day the same Institution has come up under fictitious names. And it is called a "summer meet ing," almost suggestive ot positive religious exercises. And it is oalled an "agricul tural fair," suggestive of everything that la luwiovlog la the art ot farming. But under these deceptive titles are the same cheating, and the same betting, and the same drunkenness, and the same vaga bondage, ana the same abomination that were to be found under the old horse rac ing system. Long ago the English government got through looking to the turf tor the dragoon and tho light cavalry horse. They found out that the turf depreciates the stock, and It Is worse yet for men. Thomas Hughes, tho member of parliament and the author known all the world over, hearing that a now turt enterprise was being started in this country, wrote a letter In which he said, "Heavon help you, then, for of all tho cankers of our old civilization there is nothing In this country approaching in un blushing meanness, In rascality holding Its head high, to this belauded Institution of the British turf." Another famous sports man writes, "How many fine domains have been shared among these hosts of rapa cious sharks during the last 200 years, and, unless the system be altered, how many more are doomed to fall Into the same gulf?" With the bullfights iof Spain nnd the bear baitings of the pit muy the Lord God annihilate tho Infamous and accursed horse racing ot England and America! Another temptation hovering uround the watering place Is the formation of hasty and lifelong alliances. The watering places nro responsible for more ot tho domestic infelicities of this country than nearly all other things combined. Society Is so artificial there that no sure judgment of character can be formed. They who forth companionships amid such circum stances go into a lottery where there are twenty blanks to one prize. In the severo tug of life you want more than glitter and •plush. Life is not a ballroom, wbore the music deoides the step and bow and prance und gracoful swing of long train can make up for strong common sense. You might as well go among the gayly painted yachts of a summer regatta to And war vessels as logo among the light spray of the summer watering place to And character that can stand tho test of the great strug gle of human life. In the battle ot life you want a stronger weapon than a lace fan or a croquet mallet. The loud of life Is so heavy that in order to draw it you want a team stronger than that made up of a masculine grasshopper and a feminine butterfly. If there 13 any man In the com munity who excites my contempt und who ought to excite the contempt of every man ami woman it is the soft handed, soft headed dude, who, perfumed until the air is actually sick, spends his summer in striking killing attitudes and waving senti mental adleux and talking lnQnltcslmal nothings and flndlng his heaven In the set of a lavender kid glove. Boots as tight as an inquisition. Two hours of consummate skill exhibited in tho lie of u flashing cra vat. Hie conversation made up of "Ahsl" and "Ohe!" and "Ho lies!" Thero Is only one counterpart to such a man us that, und that is tho frothy young womun at the watering place; hor conver sation made up of French moonshine; what she has in hor head only equaled by what she hud on her back; useless ever since she wus born and to be useloss until she is dead unless she beoomes nn intelligent Chris tian. We mny admire music and fair faces and graceful step, but amid the heartle-s --ness and tbo inflation and tho fantastlo influences of our modern watering pluccs beware how you make lifelong covenants. Another temptation that hovers over the watering place Is that of baneful litera ture. Almost every one starting off ,for the summer takes some reading matter. There is more pestiferous trash reai among the intelligent classes In July and August than In all the other ten months of the year. Men and women who at homo would not bo satisfied with a book that was not really sensible I And sitting on hotel piazza or under the trees reading books tho lndox ot whioh would make them blush if they knew thnt you knew wnat the book was. "Oh," they say, "you must have intel lectual recreation!" Yes. There Is no need that you take along to a watering place "Hamilton's Metaphysics" orsome ponder ous discourse on tho eternal decrees or "Faraday's Philosophy." Thero are many easy b>>ofts that are good. You might as well say, "I propose now to give u lit tle rest to my digestive organs, and in stead of eutiiig heavy meat and vegetables I will for a little while take lighter food, a little strychnine und a few grains of rats bane." Literary poison in August is as bad as literary poison in December. Mark that. Do not let tlie frogs of u corrupt printing press jump Into your Saratoga trunk or Whito Mountain valise. Are there not good books that are easy to read— books of entertaining travel, books of con genial history, books of pure fun, books of poetry, ringing with merry canto; books of line engravings, books that will rest the mind us well us purify the heart and ele vate the whole life? Thero will no< be an hour between this nnd your death when you can afford to rsad a book jacking in moral principle. Another temptation hovering all around our watering places Is intoxicating bever ages. lam told that It is bocoming more und more fashionable for women to drink. I caro not how well a womun may dress, If she has taken enough of the wine to Aush her cheek and put a glossiness on her eye Shu is drunk. She may be hunded Into a $2500 carriage and have diamonds enough to astound the Tlffanys'—she Is drunk. She mny be a graduate of tho best young ladles' seminary and the daughter of some man In danger of being nominated for the presidency—she is drunk. You may have a larger vocabulary than I have, and you muy sny in regard to her thnt sho is "con vivial,' 1 or she is "merry," or sho Is "fes tive," or she is "exhilarated," but you cannot with all your garlands of verbiage cover up the plain fact that It is an old fashioned case or drunlt. Whether you tarry at home—which will be quite as Bafo and perhaps quite as com Is the only safe sheltor, wbethi rln town or country. Thero are watering places accesslble to all of us. You cannot open a book of the Bible without finding out some such watering place. Fountains open for sin and uncleanness. Wells of sal.ation. Streams from Lebanon. A flood struck out of the rock by Moses. Fountains In the wilderness discovered by Hugar. Water to drink and water to bathe in. The river of God, which is full of wnter. Water of which If a man drink be shnll never thirst. Wells of water in the valley of Buca. Liv ing fountains of water. A pure river of water as clear as crystal from under the throne of God. These are watering-places accessible to ail of us. We do not have a laborious packing up before we start—only the throwing away of our transgressions. No expensive hotel bills to pay. It Is "without money and without price." No long und dusty travel before we get there. It Is only one step away. In California lu five minutes I walked around and saw ten fountains all bubbling up, and they were all different, und In Ave minutes I can go through this Bible par terre and And you Ufty bright, sparkling fountains bubbling up into eternal lifo— healing and therapeutic. A chemist will go to one of these summer watering places und take the water, and analyze It,and teU you It contains so mueh of Iron,and so muoli of soda, and so much of limn, hud so much of mugnesia. I come to this gospel well, this living fountain, and analyze the water, and I And that its Ingredients are peace,par don,forgiveness,hope,oomfort, life, heaven. "Ho, every one that thlrsteth, come yo" to this watering placet Crowd around this Bethesda. Oh, you sick, you lame, you troubled, you dying, crowd around this Bethesda! Step In It, oh, stop in itl The angel ot the covenant to-day stirs the water. Why do you not step in it? Some of you ore too weak to take a step In that direction. Then we take you up in the nrms of prayer and plunge you clear under the wave, hoping that the cure may be as sudden and as radical as with Captain Naaman, who, blotched and carbuncled, stepped Into the Jordan, and after the gev>> entb dive oame up, his skin roseate com- Dlexioned aa the flash ot a litU* child. A TEMPERANCE COLUMN. THS DRINK EVIL MADE MANIFEST IN MANY WAYS. The Old, Old Story—The Liquor Traffic In the Greatest Ctime In tlie Army— The Views of an Array Officer—The Canteen Deuouncecl. The old, old story told once more— The heartaches and the cries— The drunkard's grave—the blighted yenrs— The heart-breaks and the bitter tears— The shame that never die?. One foolish act—one thoughtless deed Itself so small a thing; Ami yet it changed the world to him, Anrl heralded the requiem In dismal minlst'rlng. O. God of justice, on Thy throne. When shall this blood-red crime. Intemperance, cease to blast and bilght? When shall It hide Itself from sight Beyond the gates of time? —Ram's Horn. The Corse of AIJ. The liquor tr/ifflc In the armv as else where is the curse of all; the prolific c;tus» of ruin, crime, lack of order uud misery writes a United States officer in the Teml perance Advocate. How best to deal with It is the question and a big one it is, too. The saloon of the post exchange is just like the saloon in civil life, better in some respects and worse in other respects. Thu fact that it is co-operative or our institu tion by which the table of all of the sol dier is improved, also the fact of the cheap ness of the drink (supposed to be sold at cost) ami its easy acoess induce many to drink who would not otherwise do so. This is one of the very worst features of the canteen. I have known some to ,je run in an orderly manner, others nre perfeet helis. Earth has no viler places. The argument that the men will go out after it if not allowed to have it (drink) la l lie gnrrison, so often and earnestly urged, I do not think amounts to much,"for the men do, even with the canteen, go out after It.and it is a question whether they do not go out more with the canteen than without it. Now most of these arguments used pro and con ore not based upon facts, but bias or opinion. The canteen has never been abolished, hence we can not say with certainty what would or would not be if it were abolished. I would like to see it tried in real good earnest, and see what the army would be and do without It. Now here is a point I have longingly workea and hoped for, viz.: to get the of ficers of the army arrayed on our side against the nrrny saloon. This I think possible, and If their co-operation could be had the canteen would very soon dis appear. My hope of this is builded on this: Good order and discipline among tho soldiers is the great ambition of officers, and if we can convince them (which I think could be done in time by wise effort) that the army saloon was an agent of disorder, that with out it the discipline of the army would be enhanced, these officers would be the first to fight against it. When Congress passed the law in ques tion I knew there would bo a hard fight be fore the canteen died—it is so firmly fixed in the military life. No man of sense honestly doubts but that Congress inteuded to abolish in toto the army saloon. Novel Temperance Move. Temperance saloons are to be opened in Chicago this fall, but their distinctive beverage Is to be coffee and not tea, as in New York. The work is to be undertaken by tho Young People's Temperance Federa tion, which was organised last Febr. ary, largely as a result of Countess Schimmel -111 aim*s efforts in the city, and which lias already acquired a verv large membership, lis aim is practical and business-like me thods in the temperance propaganda, and it is having the support of many moneyed men in Chicago. Ten saloons nre to bo established next month, and it is hoped to double that number soon thereafter. There is to bo nothing of the charitable quality about tho saloons, and no suggestion of ministerial oversight in their management. They will be like other saloons, save in tho absence of Intoxicating drinks and pro fanity. They are to have a bar of the orthodox type, with a good free lunch, and will dispense coffee, tea, lemonade, and other temperance drinks. The customers will be privileged to loiter so long as they are orderly, and mrty read or play games, and in tho cold weather they inav remaiu all night if they are homeless. It is not the intention of the federation to operate the saloons directly itself. It will arrange so that it has the ultimate control of the way the places are conducted, and it will guar antee the saloon-keepers against loss in the first months of their business, but apart irom that e.ich place will be in private hands. In most cases the proprietors will provide their own iixtures and receive all the profits. In their relations with the federation in return for the guarantee ngainst loss they will ngreo to sell their places to the federation or to whom it selects whenever that organization thinks the places are improperly conducted. "My Papa IJets Drunk." My friend was walking up State street, late one afternoon, when ho encountered a short sermon on temperance. Tho air was keen aud coid, with "symptoms of snow." ' He had pulled his cap down over his ears as far as possible, and buttoned up his over coat close to keep out the stinging lake wind, and was hurrying along at a pace that might rival Weston's, when he nearly ran over a child not more than four years oid, who had fallen on the sidewalk near him. ' Heigho, sis!" he exclaimed, lifting her safely to her feet again. The little ragamuffin put up a grieved lip, and was going to cry, but stopped when he spoke to her. "Whew! barefooted, and such a day as this!"—with a low whistle—"why don't you run home, sis, aud put on your shoes and stockings before you freeze your toes?" "Don't dot any shoos and stotin's." "Don't got any, eh? How does that hap pen? Don't your father buy you any shoes and stockings?" "Oh, no," she answered, with a tone that meant "of course not," and a manner In dicating that she considered the reasqn quite sufficient; "no, my papa dots druuitf' —Young People's Paper. Consumption of Beer. I It Is estimated that the consumption of beer in the entire world amounts to i|l - 080,000,000 per annum This seems to be an almost incredible figure, but It does not appear so strange when It Is considered that the beer which is consumed through out the world in a single year would make a lake three aud three-quarter miles long, a mile wide, and six leet deep.—Scientllio American, Attitude Toward Intemperate Men. Excessive drinking Is being slowly stamped out by other agencies than legislation. Society does part of the work, the church another, but among the more potent new factors is the at titude of large employers toward im ternporate men. Railroad companies will no longer have them, and that means more than a million men compelled to abstain from lntemperanoe. Large man ufacturers are falling in line and the siege is being tightened about the toper. He will soon have disappeared from honorable ' and profitable employments and his de parture will cause DO regret —WIR>e%POLU Time*
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers