| The Hemp Industry |
1 of the Philippines, |
THE prospector seeking for in
vestment need not dig below
the surface in the Philippines.
The culture and harvesting
of hemp is the biggest gold miue he
will find. The islands seem to have
been especially made for the benefit of
the abaca plant. The moist though
not swampy country to the south of
Manila, the Samar, Leyte
and Cebu, would produce a solid over
growth of the abaca trees if left to
take its own course.
The tree itself resembles closely the
banana palm, but differs essentially
in the fineness of its fibre and its bar
renness of fruit.
The natives, too, seem to have been
&speci...ly provided for the hemp coun
try. Tending to improvidence and in
dolency, the hemp industry furnishes
them employment whenever they run
short of rice and tobacco, for hemp
can be harvested almost at any time
except duiing the short rainy season.
Attempts have been made to trans
plant tlie hemp trees, taking them only
as far away as Borneo, but the musa
textiles refused to cohabitate with any
but Philippine soil. The Pacific slopes
of the volcanic regions of the islands
produce the best plants. Although the
abaca tree coddles to thin soil, and
rather dry, quickly drained localities,
the trunk and leaves demand frequent
and abundant moisture. Given tiie
proper conditions, the vast plantations
will thrive like asparagus beds. Very
little cultivation is required; nn occa
sional weeding and a replanting at
the harvest time and nature does the
rest. The crop is not gathered as if it
were a corn field, but the trees are
found in all stages of growth, and the
native passes through regular routes,
slashing a plant here and there, his
practiced eye the sole Judge of its ma
turity. Three years is the proper age
for harvesting. The hemp-stripper
goes forth much as a huntsman
' " *
HARVESTING THE AIIACA.OR IIEMR PLANT.
would. With his holo in belt and a
bamboo canteen full of rice slung over
his shoulder, lie hies himself to the
uplands. After feeling tlie plants,
which at the age of three years are
About ten feet high, he proceeds to
clip off a shoot and rep ant it. After
a number of trees are cut the strip
ping process begins. Als the leaves
are torn oft' and the outer skin of the
s'alk is peele.l off. Inside of the trunk
is a pithy suostam-e. and around this
are layers of fibre imbedded in a soft
juicy substance. The fibre must be
separated from the stalk at once lest
it rot. Manj" Americans have cher
ished tiie idea of exporting the trunk
intact, but the enterprise is not feasi
ble because of the perishable nature of
the pulpous segreiuent.
A bamboo-made bench is Impro
vised, and at one end the stripper binds
his bolo; the handle attached to his
foot by another bamboo strip Across
the blade he draws the stalk until the
fibre is thoroughly separated without
injury, preserving its length of from
eight to ten feet, and leaving It tine
and beautiful that the tropical sun
may lick up the moisture still bleeding
from the operation. The work of
stripping is very tiresome and requires
tile skill of a trained blind.
The white mnn has often attempted
to Improve upon tie* blown man's
method ot stripping tiie hemp, but de
spite expenditures ami IngeuiolH
mechanical contrivances no machine
r
I Nt.ttAlM.Mi tlK*II» AT i Kill'.
Ii«» Ittfn iirudnvtxl thai tuki* tht>
*>f ilu- ukllm'. )*iituuta him* twin
tuUiii <>ut, ami Itirtft- mini* of itiouvjf
•lu-ui uiMMt #*|>fi'lim'Uiiil iiiiK'Uliu'M,
but i ln- texture <iml (Hfiillur uatur* of
the MtlMl'il |(|ullt Wflll to r«'l|Ull'« I In*
luuvU uf Uuiuuu buuti* tu ii'|>ut«U tU
parts. As well try to produce a ma
chine to comb the snarls out of a wom
an's hair as to make a mechanical
hemp-stripper.
The native is paid for his work In
hemp, dividing the product equally
witli the plantation owner. When he
cuts and strips all he can carry, he
twists up the fibre into a great roll
and goes down to the plantation own
er's hous-, and there the division is
made. 1 hey then hang up the rolls
until the middle man or contractor
comes along and a bargain is struck.
The bales are crudely fastened to
gether and carried to the nearest port
-
HALING HEMP.
and shipped usually to Manila, where
they are separated, relialed and
shipped either to Hons Kong, where
there is an immense rope-walk, or to
New York, l?oston or London. The
rope-walk at Hons Kong is one of the
largest in the world. Its product prac
tically supplies China, Japan and Aus
tralia. Very little hemp is made inlo
rope or twine in Manila. Although
crude rope-walks exist in different
parts of the island, their manufac
tured article, although strong and
durablo, would not compete in the for
elgh market. Hemp subserves every
purpose that leather might with the
native. He twists It into sandals,
uses it for harnesses, and It answers
for bindeis In the building of his nlpa
hut. The utility of hemp is well un
derstood to the Filipino. The finer
quality Is selected and reserved for
weaving purposes, being made up into
really handsome cloth, while the or
dinary hemp is universally used to
make a coarse though durable mate
rial, worn generally by the natives,
who delight In gaudy colors and pic
turesque though scanty costumes.
There is still another texture woven
front the selected strands of outer
tibre, intermixed with the fibre of the
pine-leaf. The cloth has the semblance
ERTING HEMP ON A MANILA WfIABF.
of unfinished silk, and is pretty and
durable, though not as beautiful or
dressy as the pure pine-leaf fibre silk
known as piua cloth, the best woven
product of the islands.
The entire hemp Industry of the
Philippines is still worked by primi
tive metaods and with simple contriv
ances. 'Lhe native, though uuambl
tions himself, is jealous of the China
man. and Is averse to the Celestial get
ting contriii of tin- plantations or con
tracts, while scorning
oils himself. The "Cheno," however,
has made .uroads in this industry, as
well as in others in the Philippines.
Had lie nut, the development would
not liavi> lii-i'ii ii* rapid n* It lia*. Tlu«
imtivf I* tbiiroiitfbly •aim Ml', and tin
<|i-r*(iilitla lilt) tivului<-ut of tlto plant
iiinl 11m hiirvi'dlnv, uud t-t>ult| ln< In
induced to work with r«*ifuUrlty would
l»< a» good N UlKiri'l' H* tin- ('III UK 111
uiiiu. but 'lio tVUatlul usuuil) tuuirvl*
the baling and local marketing of the
hemp.
The presses at the seaport towns are
crude affairs. After the fibre Is classi
fy and separated Into three piles or
classes. It Is dumped in bulk Into n
huge press and a screw applied. Af
ter tliis operation it is taken out and
put into another press of more regplar
design and of more imposing charac
ter. The second press is operated by
an eight-armed capstan on an over
head plattorm, and a score or more of
naked coolies, usually Chinese, push
it around. The sight is most amusing.
With grunts, laughs and confused jar
gon and raillery they urge each othev
on and manage to bring their strength
together at loudly accentuated periods.
A good-sized press will turn out 300
to 400 bales a day, and in the course
of a year a million or more bales are
prepared lor shipment. In Cebn large
quantities are handled, principally the
products of Leyte and Samar, al
though in Manila the largest presses
are in operation.
The classification of hemp requires
the skill of an old hand, and the expe
rienced eye of a buyer who knows all
the tricks i>t" the trade. The native
'will bring his hemp down from the
plantation in a moist state and offer
it for sale at night, hoping thus to fool
the middle-man as to weight aud qual
ity, but as this part of the business is
mostly in the hands of the Chinese,
there is little danger that they will
be deceived or cheated. The China
man is the sharpest bargain-driver in
the world, aud whether U is hemp,
silk or old junk, he is fully capable
of looking after his interests. Fine
ness of fibre, color, strength and
length determine the value and grade
of hemp. If it be carefully stripped
over a smooth knife, immediately aud
thoroughly dried, and of good length,
it will bring the highest price. If it
be carelessly stripped, juice being left
In the tibre, it loses its color and be
comes coarse. It then is considered
of a second and third grade quality
and brings a smaller price. The na
tive watches the market, and if he
hear ti-at the demand is heavy he
takes advantage of the middle-man
and compels hint to pay first-grade
prices for second and third grade pro
duets. Formerly hemp brought In Ma
nila front S7O to sl.lO per ton, always
fluctuating according to the supply,
at times going up to s.'loo per ton, but
at present the price is practically pro
hibitive, and it looks as If it would
remain so for the next two years.—Ed
win Wildruaii, in Harper's Weekly.
lVlltl Sheep Shooting.
The sheep began to move toward us,
It had been a long cllntb to get be
yond and above them, but now we
had our reward. On they came, only
two hundred yards away. I could
see their white muzzles,as though they
had been sticking their noses into a
Hour bag. Now 1 could see the wrin
kles In the horns of the rams. The
hoofs of the advancing flock made a
swishing, pattering sound, and they
were only tifty yards away. I took
the nearest ram, and he never drew
breath again. Johnnie's forty-four
barked spitefully, lie made a neat
hit ou another ram, furfher away than
my already dying victim, but failed
to stop It. Those sheep did not sail
away like deer, touching here and
there a high place. They flattened
themselves out, shot around a corner,
and were gone. Johnnie followed, and
I was alone. In a few seconds I heard
Johnnie's gun feebly thumping away.
There was no echoing roar, such as
you hear in tl.c thick woods. I picked
my way cautiously lifter Johnnie, nml
when I saw the jumps he had made,
and the chances he had taken, I knew
there was much for nie to learn about
hasty mountain travel. Johnnie shot
siv times, and two hundred yards
ahead, ou the crooked, rocky descent
the sheep had taken. 1 found liini ou
his knees by the big ram. Three bul
lets had struck.—Herlbuer's.
Ute Fat Man'* I're-Kiiiliienre.
We are pretty sure for long gener
atlons of seeing the preponderance of
northern races. One of their peculiar
ities Is that of being heavy eaters.
This U inconsistent with a clean built
figure. The modem capitalist rarely
conic* from a climate like that of Ath
ens or Naples. lie fortifies himself
against the long winters of New York,
l.undou,Amsterdam, Merlin and frank
fort by substantial ami oft recurring
meals. Ills hotly is a quick combus
tion stove wrapped up lu warm gar
ments lhitt prevent light, easy niotloll.
Men of the money-making class huve
considerable girth of waistcoat.—Lou
dou Truth.
The tonnage of the whole mercan
tile steam marine of Uiissla. Japan or
llollaud docs not equal the touuagtf
of the merchant vessels taken over
by the KugllsU goveruuieut as trans
ports.
DOCS CO IN SHOE LEATHER.
Can In« Footgear w Worn in tli«
Klondike.
One of the greatest dangers con
fronting travelers In parts of the world
where dogs take the place of horses Is
that the dogs which draw sleds or
transport goods may freeze their feet
by contact with Ice, and so injure them
A DOG SHOE FOR KLONDIKE WEAK.
that the animals become practically
useless, and must be abandoned, to
the endangerment of the life of the
traveler who has put his trust In ca
nine motive power.
As a precaution against misfortune
of this kiud it has been a common
thing to wrap the dog's feet in cloth,
a piece of leather or rubber. At best
all of these, however, were crude and
poorly adapted to carry out the desired
object. They protected the dogs' feet,
but at the same time interfered with
the free use of their legs. The devel
opment of the Klondike has given spe
cial impetus to the demand for some
proper protection for dogs' feet.
The liog's shoe, of which the accom
panying photograp! was sent from the
far Northwest to Shoe and Leather
Facts, is made of chrome tanned elk
leather, and the upper or calf, making
a soft, pliable anil yet comfortable
shoe. There is a tongue at the back,
and the lacings are at the back of the
leg Instead of on the front, because a
dog's knee bends just opposite from a
man's.
The dogs, it is said, take very kindly
to these shoes. They become so ac
customed to wearing them that the.v
don't like togo without them, witli
the result that on the trail they will
often come up to the driver in the
morning and hold out their legs to
have their shoes put on, not unlike
children. If by chance the shoes
should be laced too tight, they will
whine and speedily make manifest
their discomfort, warrging their tails
with joy when the shoes are laced to
their liking.
» VECETABLE CONTORTIONIST.
Oueer Frenk of a Little Sprig: of Dog'i
Mercury.
These t».o pictures relate to an ex
traordinary occurrence that befell a
p'ant of dog's mercury growing in
Charterhouse Copse, in Kngland. A
HOW THE PLANT LIFTED THE NUT.
hazel nut had been attacked by a nut
hatch and a clean round hole made in
it at one end—the marks of the blows
of the bird's beak being clearly visible
in the actual specimen. The nut was
dropped by the bird after the kernel
had been removed and happened to
fall to the ground with the hole down
ward. Into this hole grew the tip of
the sprouting dog's-mercury, and find
ing Itself In a blind alley the plant
was compelled to describe a complete
circle within the cavity of the nutshell
and to emerge at the same hole as that
by which it had entered. Having es-
HOW STEM CURVED TIIUOUUU NUT.
ecuted this gymnastic feat the plant
seems to have got along quite happily,
for all its upper leaves are quite nor
mal, though one of Its lower leaves
had to twist itself uncomfortably to
get out to the light of day. The plant
lifted the nut several Incite--, off the
ground as It grew.
How Carnal* *»-• In \Val<-r,
Camels csuuot swim. They are very
buoyaut, but ill balanced, and their
heads go under water. They can, how
ever, l>e taught to swim rivers with
the aid of goatskins or Jars fasteueil*
under llu-lr necks. liurlng the Hclu
chiotau exis'dlilou of tsti* the cat ads
were lowered luto the scii from the
ships and the drivers plunging over
board, clambered ou the the lumps of
their charges, causing the auiuioiV
heads to couie up, aud thus assisted
the* were successfully piloted ushjirt^
f)R. TALMAGPS SERMOH.
SUNDAY'S DISCOURSE BY THE NOTED
DIVINE.
JJohJeet: Thlekenlnir fSlnom fJrowlne
Ol<l Without KHlelnii <% Dlmttal Ppob
peet—Consoling Bit are** at I on* to Those
Who Have Panned Lifo'i Meridian.
rCopyright lwcu.l
Washington'. R. O. —ln this sermon
Dr. Talniage discourses upon the invita
tion given to Christ to stay overnight in
the Oriental village, and makes some con
solatory suggestions. The text is Luke
xxiv. 2!). "Abide with us, for it is toward
evening."
Two villagers, having concluded their
errand in Jerusalem, have started out at
the city gate and are on their way to
Fmmaus, the place of their residence.
They go with a sad h»art. .Tesus, who
had heen their admiration and their jov,
had hcen baselv massacred and entombed.
As. with sad face and broken heart, tlicy
pass e— their v><- a stranger accosts
them. The'- tell Him t'n-'. anxieties and
bitterness of soul. lie in turn talks to
them, mightily exnounding the Scriptures.
He throws over them the fascination of
intelligent conversation. They forget the
time and notice not the objects they pass
and before thev are awerc have come in
front of their house. They pause before
the entrance and attempt to pe>-«uade the
stranger to tarry with them. Tlhev press
upon Him their hospitalities. Night is
coming on, and II" mav n prowlin<?
wild beast, or h" obliged to he unsheltered
from the dew. He cannot go much farther
now. Why not stop there and continue
their plensant conversation? They tnl-e
Him by the arm, and thev insist upon His
coming in. addressing Him in the words.
"Abide with us. for it is toward evening."
The lamps are lighted, the table is spread,
pleasant socialtiesareenkindled. They re
l'oice in the presence of this stranger guest.
He asks a blessing upon the bread they eat.
and He hands a piece of it to each. Sud
denly and with overwhelming power the
thought flashes upon the nstounded peo
ple—it is the Lord! And as they sit in
breathless wonder. looki"g upon th° resur
rected body of Jesus, He vanished. The
interview ended. He was gone.
With many of us it is a bright sunshiny
day of prosperity. There is not a cloud
in the skv, not a leaf rustling in the forest.
chill in the nir. But we cannot expect
this to last. He is not an in'ePigent
man who expects perpetual daylight of
iov. The sun will after rwhile near the
horizon: the shadows will lengthen.
While I speak manv of tis stand in the
very borr described in the text, "For it is
toward evening." The request of the text
is appropriate for some in every commu
nity, for with them it is toward the even
ing of old age. They have passed the me
ridian of life. They are sometimes star
tled tot iin'; how old they are. They do
not, however, like others to remark uno-i
it. If others suggest their approximation
toward venerable appearance, they «av.
"Why, I am not so old, after all." Thev
do. indeed, notice that they cannot lift
quite as much as once; they cannot walk
quite so fast; they cannot read quite so
well without spectacles; they cannot so
easily recover from n cough or anv occa
sional ailment: they have lost their taste
for merriment; they are surprised at the
quick passacre of the year: they sav that it
only se-ms but a little while ago that they
were lvoys; they are going a little down
hill; there is something in their health,
something in their vision, something in
their walk, something in their changing
associations, something above, something
beneath, something within to remind them
that it is toward evenini.
The great want of all such is to havp
.Tomia abide with them. Tt ia a dismal
thing to b. l getting old without the reju
venating influence of religion. When we
stop on the down grade of life and see
t lat it dips to the verge of the cold river,
we want to behold some one near who
will help us ncross it When the sight
loses its nower to glance and gather up,
we need the faith that can illumine. When
v.-e feel the failure of the ear. we need the
clear tones of that voire which in olden
times broke up the silence of the deaf
with cadences of mercy. When the ax
men of death hew down whole forests of
strength and beauty around us and we
are left in solitude, we need the dove of
divine merev to sing in our branches.
When the shadows begin to fall and we
feel that the day is far spent, we need
most of all to supplicate the beneficent
•Tesus in the prayer of the villagers.
"Abide with us. for it is toward evening."
The request of the text is an appropriate
exclamation for all those who are ap
proaching tl<" gloomy hour of temptation.
There is nothing easier than to he good
natured when everything pleases, or to be
humble when there is nothing to puff us
uo, or forgiving when we have not been
assailed, or honest when we have no in
ducement to fraud. I>ut you have felt the
grapple of some temptation. Your nature
at some time quaked and groaned under
the infernal power. You feel that the devil
was after you: you saw your Christian
graces retreating; you fe;» ed that you
would fail in the awful wrestle with sir
and be thrown into the dust. The gloom
thickened. The first indications of the
night were seen. In all the trembling of
your soul, in all the infernal miggestiAns of
Satan, in all the surging un of tumultuous
passions and excitements, you felt with
awful emphasis that it was toward even
ing. In the tempted hour you need to ask
.Tesus to abide with you. You can beat
hack the monster that would devour you;
you can unhorse the sin that would ride
you down; you can sharpen the battleax
with which you split the head of helineted
abomination. Who helped Paul shake the
brazen gated heart of Felix? Who acted
like a good sailor when all the crew howled
in the Mediterranean shipwreck? Who
helped the martyrs to he tirm when one
word of recantation would have unfastened
the withes of the stake and put out the
kindling lire?
When the night of the soul came on
and all the denizens of darkness came rid
ing upon the winds of perdition, who
gave strength to the soul? Who gave
calmness to the heart? Who broke the
spell of infernal enchantment? He who
heard the request of the villagers, "Abide
with us, for it is toward evening." One
of the forts of France was attacked, and
the outworks were taken before night.
The besieging army lay down, thinking
that there was but little to do in the
morning, ami that the soldiery in the fort
eould be easily made to surrender. Hut
during the night, through a back stairs,
they escaped into the country. In the
morning the besieging army sprang upon
the battlements, but lounil that their prey
was gone. So when we are assaulted by
temptation there is always some secret
sUir bv which we might net off. Uod
will not allow us to lie tempted above
what we are able, but with every tempta
tion will bring a way of escape that we
may be able to bear it.
The prayer of the t.'Xt is appropriate
for all who are aiitici|fatiiig sorrow. The
greatest folly tli.it ever urew on this
planet is the tendency to borrow trouble,
out there are times when approaching
sorrow is so evident that we need to be
making especial preparations lor lis com
ing. One of your children lias lately l>e
Come a favorite. The cry of that child
strikes deeper into the heart than the cry
■if all the others. Vou think more aliout
it; you give it more attention. not because
it is any more of a treasure than the oth
ers, but because it is !>*•< oiniisif flail. There
is something IU the cheek, <» the eye and
in the Malk that makes you quite sure
that the leaves of the (lower are going to
be scatter*/. The utmost nursing and
luvdical tIU-udauce in tuctfevlual. llie
I puis" becomes fopble. the cotnp'exion light*
er. the fstep < weaker. the laugh fainter. No
more roiripin" for that one through "hall
and parlor. The nursery i« darkened by
an approaching ea'ariity. Thi> heart feels
with nio'irnful i>"tiripation that the sun
is go>'nc down. Night speeds on. It is to
wfd e v ening.
You have Ion" rejoiced in the care of a
mother; you have done everything to
make her lnf=t davs hanny; you liave run
with qt'i'-k feet to wait upon her every
want. Her presence ha« been a perpetual
blessing in the household. But the fruit
eathere-s are looking wistfully at that
tree. ITer soul in r<no for heaven. The
urates are ready to Hash open for tier en
trance. B'lt yot"- soul sinks rt the thought
of separation. You cannot bear to think
that soon you will be called to take the
'ast look at that face, which from the first
hour has look#d unon you with alWtion
But you °ce that life is
ebbing, and t l '" gr->ve will soon hide her
from your sirht. You sit ouiet: you feel
heavv hearted. The I't is fading from
the sky; the air is chill. It is toward
evening.
The words of flie text are pertinent to
us all from th® fact that we are nearing
the evening of death. 1 have heard it
said that we oneht to live as though each
moment were to be our 'ast. I do not be
lieve that theory. As far as preparation
is concerned we ou"ht always to be ready,
hut we cannot alwavs b» thinking of
deaf', for we have duties in life that de
mJ"'l our attention.
When a man is se'ling goods it is his
bus'iess to think of the bargain he is
making: when a man is nleadint; in the
courts, it is his duty to think of (he in
terests of his clients; when a clerk is add
in': vp accounts it is his duty to keep his
mind unon the column of figures. He who
Alls up his 'ife with thoughts of death is
far from being the highest style of Chris
tian. I knew a man who used often to
say at ni<»ht. "I wish I mifht die before
morning-!" lie is now an infidel.
But there are times when we can and
ought to give ourselves to the fontemp'a
tion of that solemn moment when to the
soul time ends and eternity begins. We must
go through that one pass. There is no
roundabout way, no bypath, no circuitous
route. Jlie we must, and it will be to us
a shameful occurrence or a time of admir
able behavior. Our friends mav stretch
out their hands to keep us back, but no
i—•ploration on their nart can hinder us.
Thev mieht offer large retainers, but
death would not take tlie fee. The breath
will fail, and the eyes will close, and the
heart will stop. You may hang the couch
with gorgeous tapestry, but what does
death care for bed curtains? You may
banc the room with the finest works of
art. but what Hoes death care for pictures?
You may fill the house with the wailings
of widowhood and orphanage. Does death
mind weepin<r?
Listen to Paul's battle shout with mis
fortune, hark to mounting I.atimer's fire
song; look at the glory that hath reft the
dungeon and filled the earth and heavens
with the crash of the falling manacles of
despotism and then look at those who
have tried to cure themselves by human
prescriptions, attempting to heal gan
grene with patch of court plaster and to
stop the plague of dying empires with the
quackery of earthly wisdom. Nothing can
sneak peace to the soul, nothing can un
strap our cruphing burdens, nothing can
overcome our spiritual foes, nothing can
open our eyes to see the surrounding
horses and chariots of salvation that fill
all the mountains but the voice and com
mand of Ilim who stopped one night at
Emmaus.
You; ought to be willing to exchange
your bodv that has headaches and side
achcs and weaknesses innumerable, that
limps with the stone bruise or festers with
the thorn 01 flames on the funeral pyre
of fevers, for an incorruptible body and an
eve that blinks not before the jasper gates
and the great white throne, lint between
that and this there is an hour about which
no man should be reckless or foolhardy.
I doubt not your courage, but I tell you
that you will want something better than
a strong arm, a good aim and a trusty
sword when you come to your last battle.
You will need a better robe than any you
have in your wardrobe to keep you warm
in that place.
Circumstances do not make so much dif
ference. It may be bright day when you
push oiT from the planet, or it may be
dark night and while the owl is hootum
from the forest. It may be spring, end
your »oul may go out among the blossoms,
apple orchards swinging their censers in
tiie way. It may be winter and the earth
in a snow shroud. It may be autumn anil
the forests set on tire by the retreating
year—dead nature laid out instate. It
may be with your wife's hand in your
hand, or you may be in a strange hotel,
with a servant faithful to the last. It
may be in the rail train, shot off tha
switch and tumbling ill long reverberation
down the embankment—crash, crash!
1 know not the time, 1 know not tho
mode, but the days of o*r life are being
subtracted uwav, and we shall come down
to tiie time wfien we have but ten days
left, then nine days, then eight days, then
seven days, six days, five days, four days,
three days, two days, one day. Then
hours, —three hours, two hours, one hour.
Then only minutes left—five minutes, four
minutes, three minutes, two minutes, orio
minute. Then only seconds left—four sec
onds, three seconds, two seconds, one sec
ond. Gone! The chapter of Iffo ended!
The book closed! The pulses at rest! The
fe/st through with the journey! The
hands closed from all work! No word on
the lips! No breath in the nostrils! Hair
combed back to lie undisheveled by any
human hands. The muscles still. The
nerves still. The lungs still. The tongue
still. All still. You might put the steth
oscope to breast and hear no sound. You
might put a speaking trumpet to the ear,
but you could not wake the deafness. No
motion. No throb. No hie. Still! !still!
On earth with many of you the evening
is the happiest part of the twenty-four
hours. You gather ahout the stand. You
talk and laugh and sing. You recount the
day. You plan lor the morrow. You
have games and repartees. Amid all the
toil of the day that -s the goal for whii
you run, and as you take out your wateu
or look at the descending sun you thrill
with the thought that it is toward even
ing. So death comes to the disciple.
What if the sun of life is about to set?
.Testis is tiie dayspriug from on high, tho
perpetual morning of every ransomed
spirit. What if the darkness comes?
.)>«us is the light of the world and of
heaven. W hat though this earthly house
dots crumble? Jisus has prepared a hou.se
of many mansions. Jesus is the anchor
that always ho!d». Jesus is the fountain
that is never exhausted. Jesus is the
evening star hung up amid the gloom of
the gathering night.
You are almost through with the abuse
and backbiting of enemies. They will call
vou no more by evil names. Y'our good
deeds will not longer be misinterpreted or
your honor filched. The troubles of earth
will end m the felicities of heaven. To
ward evening' The bereavements of earth
mil bion In lifted. You will imt much
longer stand pouring your griel in the
tomu like ltaeliel weeping tor her chil
dren or David mourning lor Uisalom.
Ili'oken IK ails HTl.uid up. Wound* lulled,
ti.irs wiped away. »rrm\< terminated.
No in >ie sounding of I le ilcn4 march To
ward evening. Iwath will come sweet us
slumber to the eyelids of the balie, as full
rations to a starving soldier, as evening
hour to the exhausted workman. The sky
will tak on its sun»et glow, every cloud
a lire psalm, every lake a glossy mirror,
the forests trails.igurcd, delicate niista
ehmhing the air. Your friends will an
nounce it, your pulses will beat it, your
joys w-U ring it, your lip* will whisper tt,
"TuwarU