In AndpPs 1 Home and Lottie! Dan Joyce, that staring man with the haggard, boyish face, at whom the other pas tensors had glanced bo often, gripped his teeth to keep back a shoat or a sob. Home! For him, the gap in those white cliffs looked like the gate of a paradise. Dear England after two and a half years la the Australian bushland! London, and then his preclons Lottie, waiting for him all these dull months! He would catch the pale, slight figure by surprise In his strong brown aims, and tell her that love alone had drawn him back six months be fore his allotted time, and how It had secretly almost broken Ms heart to leave her to her lonely nurse's rou tine, with only his old chum Ferrars to watch from a distance that no harm befel her. Only his love not uecausci of thut Incredible letter that had reached him in the wilds two aiontlis ago! He was clutching It now. lie would tear It up and throw the pieces jt her feet. Her tired eyes would fill tnd brim over; she would sob out on ills shoulder that she hnd written It an a wild, Inexplicable impulse, when the loneliness of life seemed too noavy to bear. Yes! He had not one doubted it. Ilia quiet, trusting Lottie! No, there was some strange mis take that would be puffed away in a moment. Ferrars would have whis pered the word of comfort for him! Ferrars, the actor, was the one man living whom he had cared to trust with his heart's deepest longing. For that last brief letter that her fingers had penued bad been ono to crush and brutalize any man not so sure of the woman he had nsked to wait! "My Dear Mr. Joyce I Bhall not ho able to nrlte again. You will think it hard, for a time, maybe, but you would think still less of me as a woman If I let you go on hoping and looking forward. Against my will my feelings have gradually changed. I shall only ask you, as a man, not to cause unnecessary pain by ever try ing to see me again. I hold you to that, (lood-bye. Lottie Haynes." Oh, to see her lips quiver close to his own again! to kiss away all the haze of misunderstanding! "Lottie! Lottie!" he was whispering to him self all the way. London Amies street the house Itself at last! One minute more! It passed. He was turning away, quite steadily, but with a queer pallor under his tan. Miss Haynes was gone away to some hospital, they told him, staring curiously; that was all they knew. Lottie had promised never to give up that room of hers until he tame to take her from it as his dear wife. She had gone, leaving no clew. ten minutes moreand he had rung the same old bell. "Oh, yes, Mr. Fer rars is still with us! We knew he expected some friends, but he is not at home yet ' She hesitated. "Thanks thanks! Archie won't mind me waiting!" he said, clearing his husky throat. And he found him self going dazedly up the stairs. An then presently he drew In hia breath sharply. A sudden buzz of voices below; men laughing and chat tering." Now they were coming up Archie leaping on ahead. He could pick out the old careless, rich voice that he would know among thou sands. Then suddenly the door was pushed back and Ferrars stood there. Ferrars, not changed an atom! the old smile on his dark, keen, good looking face. It died out. Dan Joyca had sprung, his hand out, that husky "Archie, old fellow!" warm and bro ken on his Hps. But that was all. In the dying light all the blood had seemed to drain from Ferrars' face and left It gray; hestood like a thing of stone. For a full minute, while that muffled laughter came in from the next room, life seemed to have no meaning, and then Ferrars had closed the door and held It fast. "You!" he strained out. "You here back in England! What what " "I'm Borry," Dan whispered. "I never meant to give you that shock. Archie, she she's gone! Gone!" His voice broke, he reached out again, gropingly. "Dan! I thought of you as thou sands of miles away, and to see you standing in my roomJ" The hand fell away. He stood back as if scarcely breathing, hia face turned. "Where ia Bhe?" Dan asked thickly. "I came I came home be cause I couldn't live longer without her. Tell me that. If you know, and i ii go. wnere a my Lottie?" "I do know." He had tiptoed to the door and clicked the key. When he turned there was sweat on his forehead, as after a great mental ordeal. "Dan, I do know and can't help you. Now you know why I have not written lately I could not. I heard I heard there was another man. What could I do when she asked me, on iny honor, never to tell you where she had gone? I prom ised; I hud to. I can't break my word to a woman!" "You must and will." Dan whls pored, never moving. His blue eyes, staring past, seemed to see nothing. "I left her in your keeping, as my one friend on earth. You could have told me, for my life's happiness and hers. You'll tell me now, be cause, night 6r day. i 8haU never rest until i have ,t from u dear lip, that woman'i lovo-Lottle's love would die-like that." A long silence. Dan was not Quite sure-there seemed to come a thick mist over everything but he be. leved that Ferrars had slipped from he room, in that namelis. p intii " B0'hin more tor ce until Ferrars' hand closed upon his comV FenarS Volce Hself seemed to come from a distance. "Here, then, take this I've writ ten it; I've ot told you-uot Droken my word literally, i can't stay to talk to-night; I have V, t waVt byreU' RUd my waiting. She's ,uym8 th fa address, with friends, no Ur .ff. a In Uniform Send this telegram to her with your own hands. "I tried to spare you pain by keep ing silence. She won't see you of that I'm certain; so this Is supposed to come from a friend of hers, asking her to be at the main park gate by 9 o'clock, on a life and death mat ter. It's quiet there the gates close at dusk. Say nothing as to bow you found out, and don't go near the house itself. Simply wait, and call here to-morrow to tell me. Old chap, It would be cruel to wish you luck!" Some word rose in Dan's throat, but it was not sound. Ho pressed the other's hands and went out. Al most unconsciously he dispatched the telegram. Nine o'clock! A thin powder of flnow was falling. Past 9! Hestood on there In the grip of the cold lethargy because there seemed no where to go nothing more to live for. And then, Lottie! Over there, about to cross the white roadway, came the dear slight figure that had moved through his many dreams. He wanted to leap forward, to shout her name; he could only stand rigid. She had paused, looking around. Only the curb railing was between them. Then she had seen him, and given the thrilling little cry for which he watted. She realized! To her he was a ghost from a dead past. He could just make out the deathly whiteness of her face in the surrounding gloom. She had quiv ered back; she was going without a word out of his life for ever! "Lottie! Lottie, dear hear me! One word If you ever loved me!" "Not one no, not one!" She faltered It faintly, but with deter mination that went to his heart. "Don't come near me I am not worth It! It was not not like you to stoop to such a trick with a weak woman!" "Hush! I won't move; I am not going to frighten you, dear! Only let me speak quietly; only tell me what it all means!" Ho stood mo tionless on his side of the iron rail ing. She had changed yes! There was something In her attitude to night, In her chilling resolution, that he had never known in the old days. His Lottie! yet not the Lottie who had clung to him and bade him be strong and brave for her sake. "If you knew what I have suffered you would forgive me this," he said, imploringly quiet. "It's all a mist; I know nothing except that I have done nothing to forfeit your love. I had your cruel letter and would not believe it; I came back home to tell you bo. You never meant those words. Lottie, you can't you won't say that you have given to some other man what you gave to me all that I held precious in life. I worked for you out there; I waited, for your future's sake; I never will be lieve that you turned from me of your own accord, knowing that I prayed for yb on my knees every night that I " It quavered off. His effort had been made. He caught at the rail and put a hand to his eyes. She was looking down as if in deepest shame, but without a visible tremor. "It is too late," she said in tho same faint, cold way. "I I did not realize you would take it so to heart. There is no need to make a scene here; I am known, and and I ought not to have been trapped by a trick like this. No, I can't tell you any more than I wrote. I don't ask you to forgive me, but Just to forget me. If you persist now, I- I must go still farther away and give up my work here. But If you're the man I think, you'll go back and find some better woman who will repay you for all. I dare not stop; I must say good-by." "Good-by." The nian's"llps echoed It in a far-away whisper. His star lug eyes saw nothing now. The lump In his throat could not be gulped back this time. Only once his hand wavered out, as if in hopes of touch ing hers, but the dear figure in gray had gone. Ten o'clock! A groping, haggard figure, he found himself back at the house where Archie Ferrars lived. In that front room the gaslight still burned, but no one was there. He moved to and fro with simply the dull idea that he had come to say "good-by" before he turned back to that lone life in the bush. All un consciously It was that he took up a newspaper lying there; vaguely his strained eyes focused a blue-pencil mark around one paragraph. He read and reread as a child might have done: Successful male impersonators are legion; but it Is rare, indeed, that we find the man who can don woman's garb, and don with it the graceful charm and femininity essentially ex clusive to the tender Be:;. Mr. "Archie" Ferrars has evidently made a careful study and mastered the subtleties of a dlfflcurt role. Not a few among his appreciative audience at the Amblgu last night were left skeptical as to the artist's real Be. Incidentally, we understand that any such doubts are dispelled by the fact that Mr. Ferrars is shortly to be married to a charming ludy who He, heard a knocking at tho hall door below. And then a voice low, clear, sad. A woman's voice; the voice that had answered him not an hour ago Lottie's voice! Here! He stumbled across. He bad heard the maid answer that Mr. Fer rars was at home. He stood rooted, a band to bis forehead, staring out. Was it real? Should he wake presently in a sweat to find himself still upon the ocean liner? For a door on that lower landing had opened, and Ferrars' pale, clear-cut face looked out. Ferrars, unconscious of his returu to the house, bad been in that other room all the while. And Ferrars had called anxiously down. "Miss Haynes, Is it? Why, dear, what has brought you here? What Is the matter? I was not well I did not go to the rehearsal to night. How strange you look r Come this way sit downtell me you must" Flat to the wall the listening man Bhuddercd back as Ferrars leaped up the stairs, sprang In, set the gas blazing, and renched out for a chair. "No no!" It was the same dear voice, but trembling and somehow different; It went through Dan's brain with a strange thrill. "I could not rest I was going straight on to the theatre to find you." She paused. Framed there In the door way so close she seemed to strain her hands together.' "He Is back!" cam her whisper. "He is back in England in London! He was seen only this afternoon. He went to my old address, some one told me. He looked 111 and troubled. No, no lot. me think Archie I can't I can't be your wife yet. I think of him still I muBt, whatever he has done, however faith less he may have been to me out there. You don't know; you couldn't understand a woman's henrt. Oh, it would break if I thought be hnd come back to realize the love he had thrown away come back to find mo another man's promised wife! I wrote that letter. Yes, you made mo; but something told me that a truo woman would have waited to know from his own Hps that ho had met a woman he loved better. I have lived In agony, and I wouldn't toll you you had won my promise when all seemed so dark and bitter." "Lottlo!" It broke In a moan from Dan's Hps. "Lottie! He is here! Yes; here for love of you!" He stood there, his shaking arms put out. All was silence. The cry in her throat seemed to be frozen. Ferrars, bis friend, had reeled back, and cowered away ns from a de scending death-blow. Only his Hps worked soundlessly ns Dan Joyce took his second step, his finger pointing, his voice suddenly strong and calm. "I know. I know now! What have you done? What have you written, to blacken my struggling life in her eyes? What part was it you played to-night you, the actor as tho last vile resource of a man In extremity? The part that that paper says you play with such rare success?" There was no answer. He waited for none. He turned his voice going soft. "Lottie! The light has come heaven meant this to happen. An hour more and I should have lost you lost you to this man who has sunk himself body and bouI to win you away in my absence this man who could veil himself in angel's uni form as a nurse as your own self, to crush me with a He! You never doubted me; you were blinded, as I was blinded to-night, by the genius of a vllllau." "You wrote!" came the .weak breath in that pause. Her filmed eyes looked past at a something too deep to he understood. "You wrote twice, saying that you wished to re lease me. I was crushed; I bad no one to turn to. And yet and yet oh, Dan!" "Come to me," he whispered. "It Is all dawning now. I never wrote that. My real lotters have not reached you. Look! He has played ma"ny parts, trusting that I should never come back in time; but to night he has played his last. Come to me, Lottlo! Only believe, and love will bring tho light." Next moment he stood in the grip of a happiuess that paid for all. Two soft hands had framed his face; a slight breast heaved against his own; a trembling figure was locked within his arms, and he knew for certainty that a woman's love, once given, can never be taken away. In that sweet pause Ferrars had stolen from the room perhaps from the house, but neither knew it. The dawn of truth, after that long dark ness, blotted out all else. Dan Joyce had come into his kingdom. Robert Halifax, in Tit-Bits. A Terrible Spectacle. The present eruption as a specta cle ha3 been terrible and awe-lnsplr- ing, but not, for the most part, as brilliant a sight as other minor man ifestations of the volcano'a power, for the whole region was covered nearly all the time with a dense pall of smoke and powdered dust through which nothing could be seen except the terrible flishesof lightning which seemed to pervade the earth and sky. This lightning was Incessant, and ac companied with horrible roarings. which, mingled with the unceasing bellowlugs of the crater, made a scene of terror that might well be compared to the descriptions of Dante a Inferno. Yet ouch was the unquestioning faith of the peasants In the protective power of their saints that they confronted the mon strous serpents of lava sweeping down on their homes almost as if they were watching tho progress of a railroad train, till the implacable nature of their deadly enemy dawned upon them. From William P. An drews' "Vesuvius in Fury," in tho Century, Ti-udes For Clergymen. One cannot question t'qe practical good sence of the advice given to candidates for tho ministry by a prominent Philadelphia clergyman In urging them to learn some trade either before or after their ordina tion. He has examined the statistics of the various Protestant denomina tions, and has been appalled by the number of mluisters who ar& without' a charge. 'He thinks that a trade would ba a good thing to fall back on in such cases, besides standing the minister in good stead in many ways while still in tho pulpit. The advice Is applicable to men en tering almost any of the learned pro fessions, but particularly so to cler gymen, who run greater risks, ap parently, than auy class of profes sionals of belug "laid off" from their regular line of work. Moat ot the large denominations have a fund to provide tor their superannuated cler gy, but the stipends awarded are usually too meagre to do more than pay for the barest necessities of life. Leulle'i Weekly, REFORMED CONEY ISLAND WIDELY COPIED. y ft Cbangu Tbat Has Forced the Popcorn Man to Refresh His Stock Every Day "Give a Man Fi?e Times His Money's Worth and He Will Come Ten Times." "Yes, sir, you're all right there," Bald a Coney Island popcorn mag nate emphatically, "things is changed In my profession like all others. The people is getting so ar Istercratlc and particular that they has to have things just bo. No more than five years .back we used ter make up all our popcorn balls they was balls then, none of your fancy crispettes in May, enough ter last us clean through to September, And now the people's tastes ia so highly edlcated that they won't stand fer any corn that's been popped over twnnty-four hours." Here, in a nutshell, Is the whole story of the tremendous revolution that has taken plate in the summer amusement resort business In Amer ica in the last halt decade. Here in New York we notice the change most strikingly at Coney Island, for there, It may be said, the revolution really began, and there it certainly has been carried to an extreme seen no where else in the country. And as tho Coney Island ot to-day ia the type of the new amusement resort, serving as a model for similar places all over the country, bo the Coney Island that we all knew a few years ago was the type of the old re sort. Fundamentally, the change comes down to this, that in the old days you almost never got what you paid for, while now you almost in variably get more than you pay tor. The show promoters ot every sort, from tho3e who furnished the Bide shows for tho country circus, the county fair, and the dime museum, up to the great P. 'T. Barnum him self exerted their wits to Invent some sort ot a show that would fool the public. "The public llkea to be tooled," they declared. Time has proved that they were wrong, but as long as that sort of show was the only sort In existence, the public, with lta accustomed good nature, con tinued to pay its money for it. An old circus man down ut Coney Island cited the tatooed man as an example. "Most of the tatooed men on the market used to be straight-out fakes," he said. "Now, although although they are mostly made to or der, still they're tho real thing." The Old Fuko Shows. The old style show, now rarely seen save in the very cheapest ot amusement resorts, hardly needs de scription. The ingenious faker, who, for ten cents, admitted you to see a select set of cheap pictures, and then having informed you confidentially that for another ten cents he would "show you the Bowery as it really is," turned you out into a passage that led you to that thoroughfare, was typical of his kind. The show with another show inside, into which the spectator was led, quite as much by the feeling that he had been duped once and might as well see the whole business, as by the hints of forbidden things behind the dirty curtains, was invariable. Now, ap parently, the whole theory of the show has changed. And enquiry proves beyond a doubt that the change la due in no way to a moral awakening on the part of the show man, but rather to a realization on hia part that it paya better in the long run to give the public its mon ey's worth, that Lincoln's well known axiom that you can't fool all the people all the time has solid commer cial basis. It Is more than likely that many a showman trying to arrive at the true cause of his failure hit upon the correct answer, but so fixed were the traditions of the business that none dared put the new Idea Into effect until five years ago. Then two young men came out ot the West, who bold ly declared that the old method was based on a fallacy. "Give the people five tlme3 their money'3 worth, and they'll come to sea your show ten times," said one of them the other day. Their success was immediate; others caught on to the idea and the revolution was under way. An op portune fire, by sweeping many of the old time resort3 out of existence, helpad thlng3 along. Capital was easy to interest, where there was permanence promised for the invest msnt. To-day, the Coney Island amusement places of all sorts repre sent an investment variously esti mated at from $8,000.1)00 to $10, 000,000. The two largest alone, Dreamland and Luna Park, repre sent an Investment of $2,000,000 and $1,300,000 respectively. There could be no better criterion of the 81122323 of the new Idea, or no better assurance for Its permanency than tbat. As a simple business proposi tion, the ohowroen are not going to run the chance of a depreciation In value and earning capacity by pro viding inferior amusements. The active competltlou has raised the whole standard ot entertainment. "The fake shows navor had a ghost ot a chance after wo began giving the peoplo the real thing," said one of the big showmen. "But the old coarse shows were popular, were they not?" ha was asked. People Kuger For a "Real Show." "Only until the real show came," he declared. "People, take them first and lait, are not Inclined to go to see the shows tbat are coarse and vulgar and worse, it they can have shows that are clean and wholesome and bright and funny. To my mind it's juat another proof of the fact that nine people out of tea would rathor be good than bad." A little looking about the place seemed to bear out this last state ment. "Why," declared a big policeman, "I've served pretty nearly everywhere In the city, and Coney's about the best place I've struck. It's a regular Sunday-school picnic here most of the time." "But It used to asvj a )d floatation?" "Bad, well, I guess yes, but that was before I came. Why, I've heard some of the old fellows say that " The same story was told at the sta tion house; the arrests for disorderly conduct have fallen off almost fifty per cent, in the last five years, de spite the growth of the place. Down on the Bowery, a dance-hall keeper corroborated the police testi mony. "Five years ago," said he, "we kept six bouncers busy here every night. Now the floor superin tendent does the whole business." The city authorities have recog nized the change and have aided in It. Water supplyand drainage, clean streets and efficient police protection have followed. And all this has brought also a change In the charac ter ot the patrons. With the bad shows eliminated and the strong hand ot the police to be relied on, this change in the class of patrons followed naturally. And with every thing to gain by the keeping of good order the amusement people them selves have naturally been the strong est upholders of the law and order regime. Perhaps they were more firmly convinced ot the correctness of their view by the fact that the higher grade of patrons meant also greater box office receipts. The change af fected all alike, and even the beer hall proprietors profited, one of them averring that patrons commonly spent as much aa a quarter apiece for drinks now when a nickel used to be tho average. Chances For Actors-of Merit. Another important result of the new methods is noticed In the changed character of tho ahowmen and their employes. Time waa whet Coney Island and similar resorts were hotbeda of crooks and panhandlers ot the worst description. To-day they afford an excellent opportunity for actors and actresses to continue their work and for young college students to obtain employment that will help pay their next year's schooling. There are aa many aa thirty or forty; of these employed at tho hatha and in other capacities. The big produc tions such aa "Fighting the Flames" and the "Great Train Robbery" cm ploy many trained actors, the last named going to the extent of employ lug an actual member of the famous Dalton gang in their effort to provide a true-to-llfe production that will be in every respect worth the admis sion fee. From Coney Island the new idea In summer amusements spread. It might be imagined that the old style show, being driven from that place', would find a lodgment somewhere elae. But that ia not the case. Ap parently the showmen came to the conclusion that the appeal of the old fake show waa too limited a patron age to be worth while. The two re sorts that come nearer to the old sort are North Eeach and South Eeach, but except In their cheapness they have very little similarity to the old Coney Island. They, too, are devel oping along the lines of their most famous prototype, order la rigidly preserved, and with very few excep tions the amusements are of a clean, legitimate character. Two other near-by resorts Glen Island and Fort George are now being rebuilt and developed on an elaborate scale along somewhat different lines from Coney Island, to be sure, but with the same recognition of the sort of amusement that the people care most for. And so it Is with resorts through out the country, from Maine to Cali fornia. Scattered over the country there are scores of minor "Luna Parks" and "Dreamlands" and "Won derlands" and "White Cities," every one of which shows the direct effect. In name aa well as in character, of the changed conditions exemplified at Coney Islund. How thoroughly tho new Idea has been established may be seen in connection with the change in the character of exposition side shows. Scarcely more than halt a dozen of all the shows on the "Mid way" at Chicago In 1893 would have passed muster on the "Plku" at St. Louis eleven years later. At Coney Island it was noticed that when great amounts of money were invested In amusement places the city at onca came forward and performed its duty aa to civic im provements. The same thing has bean true throughout the country. As soon as the resorts cease to be menaces to public morals and become places of really innocent amusement, the municipal authorities are glad to racognizs them and give them the op portunity to become even mora sta ble and permanent. Such an attitude on the part ot city authorities Is un imaginable In connection with the old-stylo re3orr. Perhaps a majority of such suburban resorts were orig inally built up by transportation com panies, largely by street railway com panies. Sometimes it was to these promoters' interests to establish a really blsfi-class resort, aa lu the case of Noruiubaga Park, near Bos ton, but more often it was decidedly to their interest to make it as cheap uud popular aa possible. Aa long as the only sort ot resort known was the fake variety, the Btrset railway resort3 were almost entirely of this sort. But now these have also felt the effects ot the change of the last taw years, and many ot them have benefited by It to such an extent that they have either been taken Into the city park system or connected with It by means ot parkways or boulevards. Indeed, no phase of tho lighter side of American life has bsen so utterly changed lifted from the gutter, us It were, and clothed with respecta bility, stamped with the approval ot the better public opinion, and recog nised oltlclally by thoae who hold the power ot protection or suppreasloa v their baud. New York Post. "1 GOOD 0 0 ROADS. Congressional Interest In Konds. The cloBlng hours of Congress were enlivened by a number of good roads speeches, In the course ot which the necessity for government aid In Improving the public high ways was brought out In no uncer tain manner, writes the Washington correspondent of Automobile. Rep resentative Bankhead, ot Alabama, in a very able address, doclarod that to his mind the condition of the wagon roads, over which ninety per CMit. of all the commerce of the country Is transported, presented a problem for legislation by Congress far more serious and important in Its results than that of railroad reg ulation. There is no necessity, he said, for making an argument to prove the value of good roads. They save worry, waste and energy. They economize time, and labor and mon ey, and enhance the value of prop erty. He pointed out that It has been estimated that every time the sun sets the American farmers have lost $1,300,000 because of the condi tion of the roads. Representative Bankhead produced a set of figures, showing the cost of hauling per ton, horse power, over dirt roads live miles, was $1.25, and that sum will pay the freight for 2T.0 miles on a railroad or 500 miles on a river and 1000 mllea on tho lakes. These fig ures prove conclusively the enormous tax levied by the bad roads cm tho farmers, and how much of their leg itimate profit is consumed In hauling from their farms to railroad stations and river landings. The speaker declured that tho question of governmental road con struction had been successfully tried for many years In other countries. Representative Lloyd began his speech by saying that he Indorsed thj statement of a prominent citizen who said thut he could tell the intelli gence and progress of tho people by the condition of their roads. The wag on the streets aald in reply: "Then judge our people when the weather Is dry." He then went on to call attention to what the Federal Government has done, is doing, and what It may do to encourage road Improvement. In hia judgment tho Bureau of Public Road in tho De partment of Agriculture is one of the moBt important branches of public service, and from It incalculublo ben efit may come. This great service thus far haB been somewhat over looked, and Us work has not been fully known or properly appreciated. One step In the onward movement to give the country better roads Is to encourage the development of the road department of the Department of Agriculture by enlarging the scope of Its laboru, increasing its force of expert engineers and specialists and bringing It more In touch with peo ple, so that they can receive more ot Its benefits by practical demon stration of its real value. Interesting I toad Figures. Believing that improved highways are necessary for the continued pros perity of automoblling, the American Motor Car Manufacturers' Associa tion will provide for a department having road matters In charge. In formation received at the headquar ters this week from Logan Waller Page, director of the United States Department of Agriculture, gives some Interesting figures of the amount of new roads which have been recently built, together with the total number of miles. The major portion of the States have less than ten per cent, of their roads improved. a wretched showing for a civilized country. Tennessee has 48.9S9 miles of pub lic roads, or ono mile for every forty one inhabitants, of which only about nine per cent, has been Improved. Virginia has 51,812 miles, of which 1600 miles are improved, giving but one mile of Improved roads to every 1158 inhabitants; North Carolina has 49,763 miles; Oregon, 34,258 miles; Iowa, 102, 4S8 miles; Arkan sas, 36,445 miles; Arizona, 5987 miles; Alabama, 50,089 miles; Wash ington, 31,998 miles; New Hamp shire, 15,116 miles. In most of these States there is one mile of ordinary road for every twenty-five to thirty five Inhabitants, but of improved roads, only one mile for anywhere from 471 to 1255 Inhabitants, a dls couraglngly small proportion. A Crying Need. One ot the greatest needs of this country la good roads. The coun tries of Europe have better roads than we have. Thousands ot wealthy Americans go to Europe every year to run automobiles over the good roads there. This Is not a pressing reason why we should have them, but It Is a pointer to our condition. We need good roads most especially for the sake of the farming communi ty. They would enable the farmer to get to market better. He tould save money and time by drawing much larger londr. The Bavlng In this respect, the country over, would umount to millions ot dollars every tear. Good roads would bring ut practically closer to our neighbors. They would add t our convenience and comfort In many ways, beuldiii increasing the value ot our lands. Some EectionB now have fairly good roads. Others aro wretchedly pro vided. All could make decided Im provement. Nothing tells more for an agricultural community than good reads. How is TIiIh For High. Senator Clay, of Georgia, was once showing a constituent the eights of the National capital when the Wash ington Monument was reached. "What do you think of it?" care lessly asked tbt Seuator, as the con stituent stood gazing In awe at th stately shaft. "Seuator," ro3pondod the Geor gian, ' gravely, "that the darnedest, highest on story building l'v aver son:" -American Spectator. r THE WLXOAY miiHXL ! INTFBNATIrtMAI 1 PCttOW rnUMCMTC FOR AUGUST 26. . Subject: The Well Young Kutcr. Murk x., t-:$l (iolden Text, Mtilt. xvl 24 Topic: f.'reat l ac l Connected With Salvation. 1. Jesus and the ruler (vs. 17 22). 17. "Was gone forth." From the house where He had blessed the children (vs. 13-16). He now start again on His Journey to Jerusalem. "Came one running." From this and parallel accounts we learn that this man was, (1) young, (2) rich. (3) a ruler probably of a synagogue and possibly a member of the Sanhedrfn, (4) very moral, (5) humble he fell at Jesus' feet, (6) In earnest he came running, (7) anxious lo learn --he came as an Inquirer; but he was also (1) self-righteous, (2) ig norant concerning spiritual truth. (3) unwilling to give up his earthly, possessions and worldly prospects, (4) unwilling to trust all to Christ. I "Kneeled." In this ho was showing Jesus great respect and was recog nizing Him ns a spiritual authority above tho priest or rabbi. "Master." Or teacher. "What shall I do," etc. His question shows that ho believes in a future state; he was not a Sad ducee. "Eternal life." The divine life Implanted In the Boul by tho Holy Spirit. It begins In this life but will endure forever. 18. "Why callest thou Me good?" Christ did not say that He was not good, or was not God. If tho young man called Christ "good," the question Jesus nsked would lead directly to His di vinity. 19. "The commandments." Ac cording to Matthew Jesus said. "If thou wilt enter Into life, keep the commundments." Tho young man nsked Jesus which special or great commandment He referred to. Jesus replied by enumerating tho com mandments In this verse. He re ferred only to the second table of the law, which relates to the duties of man to man. 20. "Have I observed." Ho was strictly moral and had lived a good Hjo outwardly. He then asked (Matt. 19:20) what ho lacked yet. He was conscious of n lack in hia spiritual life, and this question was a serious Inquiry as to Its cause. 21. "Jesus loved him." The Sa viour was drawn toward him. He saw In the young man great possibil ities. "Sell give." Jesus struck right at the centre of the young man's difficulty. He was ready to give all to God but his property; this was the "one thing" over which he was about to stumble and fall. 22. "Went away grieved." His counten ance fell and he went awny sorrow ful. He went away reluctantly, but he went. He wanted eternal life, but he wanted his possessions more. II. Jesus' statement concerning riches (vs. 23-27). 23. "How hard-.' ly." etc. That Is, they shall enter with great difficulty. This is amply confirmed by experience. Rich men seldom become true Christians. 2 4. "Trust in riches." Here is the danger, the place where many a rich man will lose his soul. Riches cannot drive away anxiety. Thoy cannot purchase contentment. They cannot buy friends. They cannot lure sleep. They cannot buy appre ciation. They cannot bribe death. They cannot purchase eternal life. 25. "The eye of a needle." It has been suggested that the needle's eye was a small gate, leading into the city, intended only for foot pas sengers, and that the camel could only squeeze through with the great est difficulty, but "It Is now generally thought that the calling this small gate the needle's eye Is a modern custom, and not in use In the time of Christ." 26. "Astonished." Like all Jews, they had been accustomed to regard worldly prosperity as a special mark of the favor of God. "Who then can be saved?" All men by nature share tho same guilt and love of the world. 27. "With men it is impossible." According to the power and ability of men this is impossible, but God, by His power, is able to so save a man that even the things that al lured him most will lose their attrac tion to him. HI. Rewards of following Christ (vs. 2S-31). 2 8. "Have loft all." Their boats and nets and fish and father were everything to them. 29. "That hath left house," etc. In the days of Jesus those who followed Him were obliged, generally, to for sake house and home, and to attend Him. In our time It Is not often re quired that we should literally leave them, but It la always required that we love them lesa than we do Him. 30. "An hundredfold." There are few greater promises than this. This is symbolical, and expresses an immeasurable ad vantage. "Houses," etc. Not literally a hundred houses, etc., but he obtains a hundredfold more of joy and satisfaction than he loses. "What was a barren rock be fore becomes a gold mine." "With persecutions." That is, he must ex pect persecutions In this world. "Eternal life." Which will Infinite ly more than make up for all the Christian's trials here. Here are ages of enjoyment that no arithmetic can compute; oceans of pleasure, whOBe majestic billows rise from the depths of Infinitude, and break on no shore. 31. "First shall be last." The lesson lntendnd to be taught hero is that thoso who occupy impor tant positions and who appear to bo first in labor and wisdom here may place to others who have been of loss in the next world bo forced to give renown here. God docs not measure Ken as we do. Disastrous liloquc-.u-e. That whs a rather curious proceed ing over la S.imtsr last wajfc. Eu gene Ilosan, Jr., v.-as b;inj trlsj for assault and battery with lntaut to kill. Tho altorniyg pro und an in their eloqtteuca and o.-atory ao charmed everybody that tho defeul aut was entirely lost Bight of. Th spell was broken when the Jury bro,ight in a verdict of guilty. Look ing around for the priioujr it wa found that he had quietly anl mod estly walkod out of the vonvl j-ud ab sented hlmsalf trout the ecaa?. Kinitrej Couatry Record. UNCOMPLIMENT.IUY. "1 aijppjd p:aUins to Uix." sh romakB., "hjcauas he i;a!d suca a poor-cjuip'.lwcat to my tj3.j aad Judixen:. ' "tViiat did he Co?" asd ter friend. "I.e v.aut:: riJ ta -.i:-:-y hl.n."
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers