If we sit down at set or son,
And count the things that we have done.
And counting find
One self-denying act, one word
That eased the heart ol him who heard ;
One glance most kind,
That fell like gunshino where it went.
Then we may count the day well spent
j THE SALTING OFJHE ESPERANZA. t
J A Long-Delayed Revenge. 5
"Mining men, assayers au<l the like
will deride and boot at yon if yon
cnildly hint to them that theirs is a
very "romantic" business,with its big
chances pro and con, its lack of eut
aud-driedness, and so on. And they
may be in the right,for all one knows.
But there was one case wherein ro
mance, mining and assaying made a.
very homogeneous mix—that of the
great "Esperanza Gold Mines, Lim
ited," in which the principal actors
were Mr. John Simpson, assayer and
ore bnyt»r,and Richard Hadjoy-Benton,
M. P., representing au English bor
ough and something like a quarter of
a million pounds sterling, which, on
his say-so, was invested in the "Es
peranza."
The thing had its commencement
many years ago in England, and, as a
matter of course, is traceable to a
woman. But, strange to sav, this
woman was worthy of having things
happen on her account She was love
ly Aileen Butler,the Irish beauty, who
took London by storm the very year
that young Duncan Dudley nud his
chum, Hadley-Beutou, left Oxford.
And with Butler both these
young men proceeded to fall violently
in love, upon first sight of her. Th s
in spite of the fact that far oldor and
richer men were already at hor feet,
and she could even have married a
rich and gonty old duke, had she so
desired. But Miss Butler did not so
desire, and, in truly Irish fashion, took
no pains to hide her preference for
Dudley, who was merely the third son
of a poverty-stricken Scotch peer, and
as thorough a detrimental as one could
find in a day's travel.
No wonder that the girl's family
swore, stormed and wept,respectively;
even Hadley-Benton, with his rich min
ing and broking father, would have
been a more desirable parti. But,no;
headstrong Miss Butler .would liavo
none of him,none of the nasal Yankee
millionaire who was hunting "a wife
from the nobility," none of the gouty
old dnke. In short, she would marry
the poverty-stricken Duncan Dudley,
and no one else. She did not care
whether he had money, prospects, n
profession or not; she loved him, and
proposed to marry him. Which, in
spite of tears, prayers and profanity,
settled the matter. Miss Butler, in
spite of her beauty, had a will and a
mind of her own,and there was 110 use
whatever in disputing her.
Wherefore reluctant consents were
won, reluctant blessings were said,
the engagement was announced, the
marriage was arranged to take jjlace
within two months,and the Hon. Dun
can and his beautiful fiancee were as
happy as the day is long. The saying
that "true love never does run smooth"
seemed to be disproved in their case,
perhaps would have remained dis
proved but for Mr. Richard Hadley-
Benton.
Hadley-BentoD had been Dudley's
greatest friend, both at Rugby and Ox
ford. They had for years been insep
arable, and were known at Oxford ns
Damou and Pythias. Nothing bnt a
woman could have come between them,
and this is just what a woman did.
For, two days before accepting Dud
ley, Miss Butler had somewhat con
temptuously refused Hadlev-Benton's
hand and large fortune. For which
refusal Hadley-Benton inconsistently
blamed Dudley, instead of Miss But
ler. Erstwhile friendship on his part
turned to bitter envy and hate, and
the rejected suitor quietly promised
himself revenge when the chance
came.
', Of all this the Hon. Duncan knew
nothing and suspected less. He was
busy applying {or and receiving a dip
lomatic under-appointment at Paris,
which would enable him to marry and
-henceforth support his wife in at
least comparative luxury. That his
Damon of so many years was now his
secret enemy he would never have be
lieved, their friendship seemed as
strong ns ever,and the two were quite
as inseparable as of yore, even travel
ing together to Paris when the exi
gencies of Dudley's new appointment
demanded the trip.
And this is where Hadley-Benton's
prayed-for opportunity presented it
self. For, while in Paris, secure in
his present happiness and soon-'to-be
wedded bliss, the Hon. Dtfncau pro
ceeded to indulge himself in a partic
ularly foolish though brief flirtatiou
with a handsome American woman.
It ended as»suddenly as it began,how
ever,for the lady was a little too much
for even Duncan, who soon bent a
rapid and not too dignified retreat
from gay Paris, still companioned by
his faithful Damon, and the "incident"
was by him considered as closed.
To exultant Hadley-Benton "inci
dents" were just beginning, however,
and within four hours after his return
to London, Miss Butler and Miss But
ler's father knew all about the Paris
adventuress "incident." Hadle.v-Ben
ton had "deemed it his duty" to im
part full details, and Miss Butler's
father had thanked him for so doing.
A brief interview followed; some in
consequent and rather pitiful excuses
were made by Dudley,but what excuse
avails in such cases, when offered to n
faithful and single-minded girl? Mr.
Dnncan Dudley's ring was returned,
a few cold,stinging words werefpoken
to him by his ex-tiancee, an insultj or
two offered by her father.and then the
A DAY WELL SPENT.
But if through all the livelong day
We've eased no heart by yea or nay ;
If through it all
We've nothing done that we can trace
That brought the sunshine to a face ;
No act most small
That helped some soul and nothing cost,
Then count that day as worse than lost.
Hon. Duncan was shown ceremonious
ly to the door. Added to all of which,
he next day bad the happiness of hear
ing that his ex-chum and present un
doer, Hadley-Benton, had again pro
posed to Miss Butler—this time suc
cessfully. The marriage, said the so
ciety papers, would lake place within
30 days.
From this time commences the
downfall of the Hon. Duncan Dudley.
No man's downfall was over more ar
tistically complete and finished. He
was at the bottom of degradation's
hill, au outcast aud disowned by his
family, when an old uncle,from whom
he had expected to inherit, sent for
him and ofi'eied hiin his choice be
tween a pistol aud traveling expenses
to Australia. Dudley chose the trav
eling expenses, promising to take the
next steamer,under an assumed name,
for Melbourne. Two days later he
purchased instead, under the name of
John Simpson, a ticket for Pauavua.
And with that purchase ends the career
of the Hon. Duncan Dudley, so far as
Great Britain is concerned; ends,also,
our interest in Miss Aileen Butler, who
soon afterward became the unhappy
and unloving wife of Mr. Richard
Hadley-Benton with which latter
personage we have not yet finished.
Begardiug Mr. John Simpson, sec
ond-class passenger from Liverpool on
the British South American and Pan
ama S. S. liner Paloma.it would be an
impossible feat to follow his fortunes
aud misfortunes through the next ten
years. He had logged on the Amazon,
dug for gold (which, like Racbael's
cliildreu, "was not") in the Guianas,
gambled unsuccessfully in Panama,aud
at last, in desperation, had drifted to
the Mexican border. There he had
the-fortune (or misfortune) to save the
life of a Mexican girl, the ouly daugh
ter of a rauchero, who owned ranehos
and a mine or two in the western part
of Mexico, just then in procass of de
velopment by various English and
American syndicates.
This girl, Anita by name, was rather
pretty, though dark aud chubby, as
Mexicau girls often are. But she was
sweet, iunoceut and very faitMul, aud
she let Simpson see that she cared for
him,and would marry him if he so de
sired. Strange to say, he did desire;
his life had been such that the pure
and unselfish love of even a Mexican
girl meant much to him, aud he swore
that he would reform, once married to
Anita. Not that he loved her. Love,
Mr. Simpson had killed with his own
hands ten years ago and more. But
some men cannot live up to much of a
btaudard without a good woman's
Simpson was of this ilk. Where
fore he married Anita, sobered up in
a manner that astonndedeven himsel",
refused to accept help from his some
what grumpy father-in-law, and found
a job as assistant assayer in the Mex
ican mining town of I'alma Sola, in
the very centre of the gold and silver
mining district which English and
American capital was iu process of
exploiting.
In the course of time Simpson's em
ployer died, and Simpson continued
the assay office ou his own aeeouut,
for be had learned the business dur
ing his five years' apprenticeship, and
chemical knowledge gained by him
while at Oxford also stood him in good
stead. Besides which he had learned
a great deal about mines and mining,
and knew what was ore and what was
not. (You may not realize it, but this
last is a great attainment.) Also, in
addition to his assay office, be now
had a small ore buying agency and was,
iu fact, making money hand over fist.
Anita, though now very fat and
rnustached, had nevertheless proved a
good and faithful wife aud mother,and
Simpson's lines had not been cast iu
the most unfortunate places after all.
He had totally reformed and lived a
contented life, forgetful of his old es
tate and old love, straight and honest
in business, devoted to his only child
and kind to his wife. Few men in
Falma Sola were more respected than
John Simpson, assayer aud ore buyer.
Just about this time rumors got
afloat iu I'alma Sola that some pro
moters bad at last boomed the "Es
peranza" gold prospect near by on
the London market; that one of the
biggest miue-broking concerns there
had t?en favorably impressed—so fa
vorably impressed, in fact, that the
head of the concern, a veiy rich man
and member of Parliament, was him
self ou the way to make a personal in
vestigation of the mine. If it "panned
out" as represeute 1, the Englishmen
iuteuded to buy it and erect costly
stamp mills for working the ore, with
cyanide plants for treatment of the
tailings.
Iu due time the rich Englishman
arrived. Simpson at once recognized
in the puffy, pompous member of Par
liament, who represented the greatest
combination of mining capital in Great
Britain, his old chum aud deadly en
emy, Hadley-BentoD. Needless to
say the latter did ni.t recognize in
Simpson, assayer and ore buyer, tha
Duucau Dudley of 15 yeats agoue. In
this rough, bearded, sloppy-looking
westerner, whom he patronizingly ad
dressed as "My good man," Mr. Had
ley-Benton,M. P., saw merely a human
machine which would be useful later
in assaying the "Espeianza" samples,
for the machine was considered the
only reputable and a curate assayer iu
or within reach of Pal ma Solo. A»l,
having engaged Simpson to make the
said several assays, this pompous in
dividual depavted for the "Esperanza"
prospect in peace and content of mind
—in which frame of spirit he did not
leave Mr. Simpson, assayer and ore
buyer.
That entire night Simpson spent in
fighting phantoms of the past, memo
ries of his lost and only love,memories
of home and friends, tbe position and
happiness which might have been his
but for bis own folly and his traitor
ous confidant, Hadley-Benton. It
was a bard night and a bard fight,
but Simpson went to his office exulting
next morning with plans fully thought
out and arranged. His enemy had at
last been placed in his power,and Mr.
Simpson proposed that there should •
be a plentiful settling of old scores.
When Mr. Hadley-Benton aud bis
large number of carefully sealed sam
ples from tbe "Esperanza" reached
Simpson's assay office later that week,
tbe latter person was entirely and
deferentially at the disposal of tbe
lordly capitalist, only Simpson pre
ferred— in fact, stipulated —that Had
ley-Benton himself should unseal tbe
samples, with his own bands, and re
main in the assaying office,so that the
entire process,from grinding the sam
ples dowu to the weighing of the gold
residue, could be carefully witnessed
and overlooked by him. For, as Mr.
Hadley-Benton must realize, assaying
such valuable ore as that of tbe "Es
perauza" was a serious matter, partic
ularly where, ns iu tbe present case,
there were uo other assavers to check
against, aud one man's results bad to
be accepted.
This was "quite in order," Mr. Hnd
lev-Beuton stated, and with bis own
bauds he undid the seals that be had
placed on tbe jute sacks containing
bis precious samples, and watched
pompously the while Mr. Simpson
heated up his furnaces, deftly ground
up the samples, weighed tbe pulp care
fully, and then poured it into the cru
cibles containing his gold flux, first
insisting that the Englishman test the
flux itself, to prove that it was abso
lutely free from gold, so that any pos
sible "saltiug" might be prevented.
With all of this Mr. Hadley-Benton
declared himself content.
The final parting of the silver-gold
buttons was done with the greatest
possible care aud slowness. And well
that it was, for the results given by
each and every assay were so exceed
ingly high that Mr. Hadley-Benton
might have been incredulous had he
not watched tbe pio.-ess from first to
last. There were 15 different assays
on which each duplicate checked its
original; there was no discrepancy of
any sort, and the total average gave a
result in gold of eleven and two-tenths
ounces to the ton!
Would the "Espeauza" pay to
work? Mr. Simpsdu s results proved
that question very conclusively, and
Hadley-Benton fairly ttew to the tele
graph office, where he, after much dif
ficulty and serious struggles with the
Spanish tongue and telegraph clerks,
sent a cablegram to his London di
rectors and stockholders, authorizing
them to boom the "Esperanza (iold
Mines, Limited," for all they were
worth, to ship out at ouce the con
templated stamp mill aud cyanide
plant (cost oue quarter of a million)
and to draw upon him for any aud all
extra funds desired.
So much for the "Esperanza Hold
Mines, Limited," of Loudon and Mex
ico, and so much for poor Mr. Hadley-
Benton, M. i\, whose reputation aud
private fortune were alike lost in the
venture. Because, long after the plant
and stamp mill were installed, aud
more money than 1 care to name irre
trievably sunk in the "Esperanza," it
was found that the ore of the mine
ran, at very highest estimate, exactly
one-tenth of an ounce in gold, or not
even high enough to pay working
charges. Truly "poor Mr. Hadley-
Bentou," for he bad taken tbe sam
ples, wutched aud approved the niak
iug of assays therefrom, and he alone
it was upon whom the wrath of stock
holders and directors fell when it was
discovered that the "Esperanza" was
a dead failure, not to say the greatest
swiudle of modern times.
No one, not even Hadley-Benton
himself, can account for the matter.
No oue ever ofiered any explanations
as to how such fabulous results were
secured from utterly worthless ore.
Even the assayer, Mr. John Simpson,
proteases himself as lost in amazement
at the way tbe "Esperanza" turned
out. But, of course, as everyone real
izes and concedes, he had nothing to
do with tbe matter, and cannot there
fore be held responsible. But. all tbe
same, Mr. Simpson knows—even as
we do—that a hypodermic syringe can
be used successfully for more purpose*
thau oue, and, unluckily for Hadley-
Benton, chloride of gold is soluble, and
may be injected through the heaviest
of ,nte sacking.—San Francisco Argo
n nut.
The Word Oaeer,
The word queer has a remarkable
origin attributed to ii. One nigh?,
when the performance at Drury Lane
was finished, the celebrate 1 Quiii,
many of whose jokes are still rcinem-
I bered, offered to bet a young noble
! man $00;) that ue.it morning a word
: would bu in universal use which had
never been heard before. The no »le
mun accepted the wager and left the
! theatre. Then Qnin summoned all
I the 'Vuiiers," who happened to l>e
very numerous, and gave each a large
piece of chalk. He told them togo
; to the leading thoroughfares of Lon
-1 don and write at intervals on the flags
the word "Queer." Quilt's orders
! were faithfully carrie 1 out, and, on
i tbe following tnoruiug, of course,
i people were astonished —the word
! wan in everybody's month. Tbe great
j actor with little difficulty made bis
j cla ; ni to the noblemun'e bank not.",
I while bequeathing a new word to tb«
lagnage.
; DR. TALMAGE'S SERMON.
SUNDAY'S DISCOURSE BY THE NOTED
DIVINE.
j Subject: Tlie Home lilfe—lt Points Oat
the Duly of Purents unci Admonishes
tlie Children—Don't Stall the Young
People With Religion.
[CopjTlßUt lIIOU.I
WASHINGTON, I). 0. — This discourse ol
Dr. Talmage will interest young men, while
It is full ol advice and encouragement to
parents who are trying to bring up their
children arigbt; text, Proverb* x., X, "A.
wise son marketh a glad fatlior, but a fool
ish son Is the heaviness of bis mother."
In this graphic way Solomon sets forth
tbe Idea tbat the good or evil behavior of
children blesses or blights tbe parental
heart. I know there are persons who seem
to have no especial Interest in the welfare
of their children. The father says: "My
i boy must take the risks ! took in life. It
he turns out wull, all right. If be turns
3Ut ill, he will have to bear the conse
quences. He lias the same chance that I
had. He must take care of himself." A
shepherd might just as well thrust a lamb
i Into a den of lions and say, "Little lamb,
take care of yourself."
! Nearly all the brute creation nre kind
| Enough to look after their young. I was
! going through a woods, nnd 1 heard a
shrill crv in a nest. I climbed up to the
j bird's nest, and I found that the old
bird bad left the brood to starve. But that
' Is a very rare occurrence. Generally a bird
Will pick your eyes out rnther than surren
der her young to your keeping or your
touch. A Hon will rend you If you come
too near the whelps. Even tbe barnyard
fowl, with its clumsy foot and luuvy wing,
will come at you if you approach its young
too nearly, and Qod certainly Intended to
have fathers and mothers as kind as the
brutes.
Christ comes through all our households
to-day, and He says: "You take care of
the bodies of your children and tbe minds
of your children. What are you doing for
their immortal souls?" 1 read of a ship
tbat foundered. A life-boat was launched.
Many of tbe passengers were In the waters.
A mother, with one haud beating the wave
and the other haud holding her little child
out toward tbe lifeboat, cried out, "Save
my childl" And that impussioned cry is
the oue that llnds an echo iu every paron
: tal heart in this land to-day. "Save my
childl" That man out there Bays: "I have
I fought my own way through life, I have got
| along tolerably well, the world lias buffeted
me. and 1 have h d many a hard struggle.
It don't make much difference what hup
■ pens to me, but save my child!" You see
! I have a subject of stupendous Import, and
I am going, as Qod may help me, to show
the cause of parental solicitude and then
the alleviations of that solicitude.
Tbe first cause of parental solicitude, I
think, arises from tbe Imperfection of
parents on their own part. Wo all some
how want our children to avoid our faults,
We hope that If we have any excellences
i they will copy tliam. But the probability
! is they will copy our faults and omit our
excellences. Children are very npt to be
: echoes of the parentul lire. Some oue
meets a lad In the back street, llnds him
smoking and says: "Why, lam astonished
at youl What would your father say if lie
knew this? Where did you got that cigar?"
I "Oh, I picked it up on tbe street." "What
would your father say and your mothersay
! if they know this?" "Ob," he replies,"that's
nothing. My father smokes!" There is
not one of us to-day who would like to
' have our children copy all our examples.
And that is the cause of the solicitude on
the part of all of us. We have so many
faults wo do not want them copied anil
: stereotyped in the lives and characters of
■ those who cotue after us.
The solicitude arises from our conscious
Insufficiency and unwisdom of discipline.
Out of twenty parents there may be one
parent who understands how thoroughly
and skillfully to discipline; perhaps not
more thun oue out of twenty. We, nearly
nil of us, err on one side or on the other.
Here is a father who sayß, "I nm going to
bring up my children right; :ny sons shall
know nothing religion; shall see noth
ing but religion, and bear nothing but re
ligion." They are routed out at 6 o'clock
iu the morning to recite the Ten Com
' mandments. They are uwakened up from
the sofa on Sunday night to recite the
Westminster Catechism. Their bedroom
walls are covered with religious pictures
aud quotations of Scripture, aud when the
boy looks for the duy of tbe mouth he
looks for it In a religious almanac. If a
minister comes to the house, ho Is re
quested to take the boy aside nnd tell htm
what a great sinner he is. It Is religion
morning, noon and night.
Time passes on, and the pareuts are wait
ing for the return of the son at night. It
is 9 o'clock, it is 10 o'lock, It is 11 o'clock,
it is 12 o'clock, it is half-past 12 o'clock.
Then they bear u rattling of tho night key,
and George comes iu and hastens upstairs
lest he be accosted. His father says,
■ "George, where have you boon?'' He says,
"I have been out." Yes, ho has been out,
and be has been down, und he has started
ion the broadroad to ruin for this life aud
ruin for the life to come, and the father
! says to his wile, "Mother, tbe Ten Com
mandments are a failure; no use of West
' minster Catechism; I have done my veiv
l best for tbut boy; just see how ho lias
, turned out." Ah, my friend, you stufTod
1 that boy with religion; you hud no sym
! pathey with innocent hilarities; you had
! no common sense. A man at midlife said
; to me, "I haven't mu:h desire for religion;
my father was us good a man as ever lived,
: but he jammed religion down my throat
when I was a boy until I got disgusted
: with it, and I haven't wanted any of it
' since." That father erred on one side.
, Then the discipline Is un entire failure
in many households because the father
; pulls one way und the mother pulls tbe
' other way. The father says, "My son, I
j told you If I ever found you guilty of false-
I hood again I would ohastise you, and I am
j going to keep my promise." Tbe mother
! says: "Don't! Let him off this time."
A father says,"l have seen so many that
, mako mistake by too great severity In tho
rearing of their ohiidren. Now, I will let
j my boy do as be pleases. He shall have
i full swing. Here, my SOD, are tickets to
|.he theatre and opera. If you want to play
! cards, do so; If you don't want to play
| cards, you need not to play them. Go
: when you wabt nnd come back when you
'wautto. Have a good time. Go it!" Give
! a boy plenty of money and ask hfm not
what he does with it, and you pay his wny
straight to perdition. But after awhile
the lad thinks lie ought to have a still
larger supply. He has been treated, aud
ho must treat. Ho must have wine sup
i pers. There are larger aud larger ex
: penses.
After awhile one day a messenger from
llie bank over the way culls In nnd snys to
! the father of tbe household of which lam
speaking, "The officers of the bank would
like to have you step over u minute.'' The
, father steps over, nnd tbe bank officer
! nays, "Is that your oheoltV' "No," be
I says; "that is not my check. I never made
! an 'H' In that way; I never put a curl to
j the 'Y' in that way. That is not inv
writing. Thnt is not my signature. That
Is u counterfeit. Send for the police."
"Stop!" says tbe bank officer. "Your sou
wrote that."
, Now the father and mother are waiting
for tho son to ccme home at night. Ills
12 o'clock, it Is half-past 12 o'clock, it is 1
.o'clock. The son comes through the hall
! way. The father says: "My son. what
j does all tbis mean? I gave you every op
portunity. I gave you all tbe money you
wauted, and here in my old days 1 find thai
you have become a spendthrift, a llbertino
and a sot." The son says: "Now, father,
j what is the use of your talking tbat way?
You told me togo it, and 1 just tonJi your
l suggestion." Aud so to strike tbe medium
between severity nnd too gr«at leniency,
to strike tho happy medium between tbe
.iwoundtrutn our ohiidren for God und
I
for heaven, is the anxiety for every. Intel
llgent parent.
But for the most part the children that
live sometimes get cross and pick up bad
words in tbe street or are disposed to quar
rel with brother or sister nnd show that
they are wioked. You see them in the Sab
bath-scbool class. Tliey are so sunshiny
and bright you would think they wore al
ways so, but the mother looking over at
them remembers what an awful time she
bad to get them ready. Time passes on.
They get considerably older, and the son
comes in from the street from a pugilistic
encounter bearing on his appoaruuee the
marks of defeat, or tbe daughter pructlces
some little deception in the household.
The mother says,"l can't always be scold
ing and fretting and iludlng fault, but this
must be stopped." So In many a house
hold there Is the sign of sin, the sign of the
truthfulness of what tbe Bible says when
It declares, "They go astray as soon as
they be born, speukiug lies."
Some goto work and trylto correct all
this, and the boy is picked at aud picked
at and picked at. That always In ruinous.
There is more help in one good thunder
storm than in live days of cold drizzle
Better the old fashioned style of chastise
ment, if tbat be necessary, than the fret
ting and the scoldiDg which have de
stroyed so many.
There is also a cause of great solicitude
sometimes beoauso our young people arc
surrounded by so many temptations. A
castle may not be taken by a straightfor
ward siege, but supposo there be inside the
castle an enemy, and in the night be
shoves back the bolt und swings open the
door. Our young folks have foes without,
aud they have foes within. Who does not
understand it? Who is the man here whe
is not aware of the fact tbat the younp
people of this day have tremendous temp
tations?
Oh, bow many traps set for the young'
Styles of temptation just suited to them.
Do you suppose that u man who went clear
to the depths of dissipation went down iu
one great plunge? Oh, no! At tlrst it was
n fashionable hotel. Marble floor. Noun
clean pictures behind tho counter. No
drunken hiccough while they drink, but
tbe ollck of out glass to the elegunt senti
ment. You ask that young man now togo
Into some low rostaurnDt and get a drink,
and ho would say, "Do you mean to Insult
me?" But the fushionable und tbe elegant
hotel is not always close by, and now the
young man is on the down grade, v.irther
aud farther down until lie has about struck
the bottom of the depths of ruin. Now he
is In the low restaurant. The cards so
greasy you cau hardly tell who has the
best band. Gambllug for drluks. Shuffle
away, shuffle away. The landlord stands
In his short sleoves, with bis hands ou his
hips, waiting for an order to fill up the
glasses.
The clock strikes twelve—the tolling of
the funeral bell of a soul. Tho breath of
eternal woe flushes in that young man's
cheeks. In tbe jets of the gaslight the
fiery tongue of the worm that never dies.
Two o'clock in the morning, and now they
nre sound asleep In their chairs. Land
lord comes around and snys "Wake up,
wake up! Time to shut up!" "What!"
says the young man. "Time to shut up?"
Push them all out Into the night air. Now
they nro going home. Goiuy home! Let
the wife crouch in the corner and the chil
dren bide under the bed. Wliut was the
history of that young man? He began his
dissipations in the barroom of a Fifth ave
nue hotel and completed his damnation in
the lowest grogshop.
Sometimes sin does not halt in that way.
Sometimes sin even comes to the drawing
room. There nre leprous hearts some
times admitted iu the highest circles of
society. Ho is so elegant, ho is so bewitch
ing in his manner, he is so refined, he is so
educated, no one suspects the sinful de
sign, but after a while the tulons of death
come forth. What Is the matter with that
house? The front windows have not been
open for six mouths or a year. A shadow
has come dowi. ou that domestic hearth, a
shadow thicker than one woven of mid
night and hurricane. Tbe agony of that
Carent makes him say, "Oh, I wish I had
urled my children wbou thev were smalll"
Loss of property? No. Death in the
family? No. Madness? No. Some vil
lain, kid gloved aud diamonded, liftod
that cup of domestic bliss until the sun
light struck it, and all the rainbows
played arouu I the rim and then dashed It
into desolation and woe, uutli the harpies
of darkness clapped their hands and all
the voices of the pit uttered a loud "Ha,
ha!"
Tbe statistic has never been made up in
these great cities of bow mauy have been
destroyed aud how many beautiful homes
have been overthrown. If the statistic
could be presented, it would freeze your
blood In a solid cake at your heart. Our
great cities are full of temptations, nnd to
vast multitudes of parents these tempta
tions become a matter of great solicitude.
Begin early with your children. You
stund on the banks of a river aud you try
to cbauge its course. It has been rolling
now for 100 miles. You cannot change It.
But just goto the source of that river, go
to where the water just drips down ou tbe
rock. Then with your kuife make a chan
nel this way and a chaunel that way. and
it will take It. Come out and stand on the
banks of your child's life when It is thirty
or forty years of age, or even twenty, and
try to change the course of that life.
It is too lute! It is too late! Go far
ther up at tbe source of life-and near
est to tho mother's beurt, where the
character starts, and try to take It in
the right direction. But, oh, my friend,
be careful to make a line, a distinct
liDe between iuuocent hilarity on the one
hand and vicious hilarity on the other. Do
not think your children are going to ruin
because they make u racket. All healthy
children make a racket. But do not laugh
at your child's siu because it is smart. Ii
you do, you will cry after awhile because
It Is malicious. Remember it is what you
do more than what you say that is going
to affect your children. Do you suppose
Noah would have got bis family togo into
the ark it lie staid out? No. His sons
would have said, "I am not going into the
boat; there's something wrong; father
won't go In; if father stays out, I'll stay
out."
Aro all your children safe? I know it is a
stupendous question to ask, but I must
ask it. Are ull your children safe? A
mother, when the bouse was on fire, got
out the household goods, many articles of
beautiful furniture, but forgot to ask till
too late. "Are the children safe?" When
the elements are melting with fervent heat
und God shall burn the world up aud the
cry of "Fire! Fire!" shall resouud amid
the mountains and the valleys, will your
children be safe?
1 wonder if the subject strikes a chord in
the heart of any mau who bad Christian
parontage, but has not lived as be ought?
God brought you here this morning to
have your memory revived. Did you have
a Christian uucestrv? "On, yes!" says one
mau. "If there over was a good woman,
my mother was good." How she watched
you when you were sick! Others wearied,
if she got weary, she nevertheless was
wukelul, und tbe medicine was given at tbe
right time, and when the pillow was hot
she turned it. Aud, ob, then, whou you
began togo astruy, what a grief it was to
her heartl
All the scene comes back. You remem
ber the chairs, you remember the table,
yon remember the doorslll where you
played, you remember the toues of her
voice. She seems calling you now, not by
the formal title wit i which we address you,
saylug, "Mr." this or "Mr;" that, or "Hon
orable" this or "Honorable" that. It Is
just tbe Hrst name, your first name, she
calls you by this morning. She bids you to a
better life. She says; "Forget not all tbe
oounsel I gave you, my wandering boy.
Turn into paths of righteousness. I am
waiting for you at tbe gate." Ob, yes, God
brought you here tbls morning to have
that memory revived, and I shout upward
the tidings. Apgols of God send for#ard
the news. Ring! Ring! The dead la alive
again, and tbe lost U foundl
THE GREAT DESTROYER.
SOME STARTLINC FACTS ABOUT
THE VICE OF INTEMPERANCE.
4, Tumbler of Claret—An Ohio
Arraignment or a Batiqnct
to Newspaper Men Which He Recently
Attended—A Shocking Scene.
t poured out a tumbler of claret,
Of course with Intention to drink,
Aud, holding it up in the sunlight
I paused for a moment to think;
t really can't tell yon what made me-«
I never bad done so before,
Though for years every day at my dinner,
I had emptied one tumbler or more.
"A friend" in the lonllest hours,
"A companion" I called the red wine,
Aud called It n "nectar divine."
And sometimes I poetized slightly.
But to-day as I gazed on the claret,
That sparkled and glowed in the sun,
I asked it, "What linve you done for me
That any true friend would have done?
"You have given me some pleasant feel'
ings,
But they always were followed by pain;
You have given me ten thousand head'
aches,
And are ready to do it again;
You set my blood leaping and bounding,
Wbiah, though pleasant was hurtful no
doubt,
And if I keep up the acquaintance,
I am sure you will give me the gout.
"I remember a certain occasion
When you caused me to act like a fool;
And, yes, I remember another,
When you mnde ine fall into a pool.
And where is Tom Sralther—you killed him]
Will Howard you made a poor knave:
Both my friends, aud I might count a dozes,
You have sent to prison or grave.
"Is this a loyal friend's treatment?
And are you deserving the name?
Say! What do you give those who love yoo
But poverty, sorrow and shame?
A few paltry moments of pleasure.
An age of trouble and grief;
No wonder you blush in the sunlight,
You robber, you liar, you thief!
"I'll have nothing more to do with you ,
From this moment, this hour, this duyj
To send you adrilt, bag and baggage,
I know is the only Bate way."
And I poured out that tumbler of claret.
Poured it out, and not down, on the
And all this, you see, was accomplished,
By just a few moments ot thought.
—Ella Wheeler Wilcox,
Far From tlie Millennium.
On the occasion of the inauguration ot
GovernorNasb, of Ohio, tho Press Commit
tee gave a big spread to the editorial fra
ternity of the State. A dally paper in
Zauesvlile was so profuse in Its thanks an
to compare their treatment at the buuquet
to the dawn of the millennium.
This moves Editor Palmer, of the Dan
ville Citizen, to remark that if the editor's
views of the millennium are correct, be
don't care to be in it. After defining mil
lennium to mean "heavenly place wheru
Christ reigns," he says:
"How do you suppose it would look' to
see a thousand or fifteen hundred men who
were erroneously dubbed the 'Conserva
tors ot Morals and Good Citizenship of tho
State of Ohio' smoking corncob pipes ami
spitting fine tobaoco juice, and drinking
beer and whiskies and uttering foul ouths,
etc., how would such a picture look
through the glasses of the Saints?
"The oold facts In the oase are namely:
That the Chairman of the Press Commit-'
tee was most courteous to tho visiting
delegate; while In his offloe, but when the
time for refreshments came, to which r.ll
the press representatives were invited, a
direct insult was offered to tompemuco
and morality. On one side of the room
three men served lunch which Included
bread, butter, two kinds of meat, potato
salad and pickles. No water or coffee. On
the other side of the room Intoxicating
liquors in the form of whisky and beer
were served, all of which were free to
the press representatives. Cigars also
were free and freely used, as also were tho
intoxioants.
"Rumocrucy has great cause for re
joicing, while temperance hides her faco
in shame!"
"The Citizen has lookod In vain for n
word of reproach from any of our ex
changes, but ou the contrary a great num
ber of the press publications endorsed tho
action in highest terms, and liken it to tho
millennium. May Ood save us from tho
millennium if that occasion was a simile."
"It's a Pity to Find Thee Here."
A tall, rough-looking man, holding a
child by the hind, entered the barroom of
a much frequented saloon. Orderiug a
g'ass of beer, he sat down aud joined In
conversation with those around him; an
other and auother glass was ordered, an l
soon all thought of his child, who stood
near the doorway, vanished from his mind.
"Hallo, youngster!" cried the landlord,
who had been too busy to notice the child
before, "whose son are ye, an' where do ye
come from?"
"I'm my daddy's son," whimpered tho
child, as his large blue eyes met the ga~o
of the stern, stout landlord.
"Ob—ah—ahem!" stammered the land
lord, as he recognized the man to be one ot
his best customers.
"Thou'rt a bonnie bairn, to be sure; but,
after all, it's a pity to find thee here," he
said, apparently in deep thought, and
scarcely knowing what he said.
"Landlord!" cried the father, as he threw
down the glass he had held In his hand,
"them are the very words you said to my
father when I first came in here with him
thirty years ago.
"Landlord!" he cried again, bringing
his hand heavily ou the counter, "my lad
nor I shall never come in here again. I set:
it all now. My father died a drunkard; I
too, shall do so unless I am quickly res
cued. And this lad—what will ho do? I
nm going home to ask God to keep
from this accursed drink. I shall ask HHJ.
tohelpmeto train up my boylnthewaj
He'd have him go, and when he Is old hi
will not depart from it. I thank you foi
them words of yours. Good night!"—Tho
Inland.
A Sensible Young Woman.
A young oouplo at Philadelphia were pre
paring for marrluge—tha day was fixed anu
invitations sent out. Just a week before
the time, the lady smelted whisky on hei
lover's breath. She at onoe declared th«
engagement off and nothing could induct
her to change her mind. He brought suli
! tor Jbreaeh of promise. Tho judge In.
structed the jury that "It Is a wotnan'f
firlvilege to annul her promise ot marriage
t she believes, in good faith, that gooJ
reasons for so doing have arisen since sh»
entered into the contract." The jury con
sidered whisky drinking a good reason foi
breaking the coi>tract and found for de
fendant. Wisely the brave young womai
said: "I'd rntlier have to work ail my lift
and die an old maid than atarry a mm
who drinks whisky."
The Crusade in Brfaf.
The peoplo build jails and tha saloons
Oil thwm.
The saloonkeepers are ex-oftloio crim
inals. Not one in ten obeys the laws.
He who drinks alaobolio liquor make*
the "tempi* of the Holy Ghost" a dance
hall for the demons of hell.
Batan himself officiated at the carriage
of the Government and saloon, bit what
Satan hai joined together let all ."Ben put
asunder.
The lore ot money ia a root of all evil,
and the license plan is a gigantic Irf(gation
•ystem, with whisky tor water a.'id tl»ti
utJooo tor ditches. - .
" / '