, ... THE FULTON COUNTY NEWS. McCONNELLSBURG. PA. . O GAIfrfV CUMBERLAND5 CHARLES NEVILLE BUCK, WITH ILLUSTRATIONS OF SCENES IN THE CHAPTER I. Close to the serried backbone of the Cumberland ridge through a sky of mountain clarity, the sun seemed hesi tating before Its descent to'the horl-. son. The sugar loaf cone that tow ered above a creek called Misery was pointed and edged with emerald trac ery where the loftiest timber thrust up Its crest plumes Into the sun. On the hillsides It would bo light for more thun an hour yet, but below, whore the waters tossed themselves along In a chorus of tiny cascades, the light was already thickening Into a cathodral gloom. Down there the "fur r!ner" would have seen only the rough course of the creek between moss velveted and shaded bowlders of titanic proportions. The native would have recognised the country road in these tortuous twistlngs. A great block of sandstone, to whose summit a man standing In his saddle could scarcely reach his fl-gertlps, towered above the stream, with a gnarled scrub oak 'clinging tenaciously to Its apex. Loft ily on both sides climbed the moun tains cloaked In laurel and timber. Suddenly the leafage was thrust Aide from above by a cautious band, and a shy, half-wild girl appeared In the opening. For an Instant she halt ed, with her brown fingers holding back the brushwood, and raised her face as though listening. As she stood with the toes of one bare foot twisting In tha gratefully cool moss he laughed with the sheer exhilara tion of life and youth, and started out on the table top of the huge rock. Hut there she halted suddenly with a startled exclamation and drew Instinc tively back. What she saw might well have astonished her, for It was a thing ho bad never seen before and of which she had never heard. Finally, reassured by the silence, she rtlipped cross the broad face of the fiat rock tor a distance of twenty-five feet and paused again to llHten. At the far edge lay a pnlr of saddle bags, such as form the only practical equipment for mountain travelers. Near them lay a tin box, littered with small and unfamiliar-looking tubes of soft metal, all grotesquely twisted and stained, and besldo the box was a strangely shaped plaque of wood smeared with a dozen hues. That this plaque was a painter's sketching pal ette was thing which she could not know, since the ways of artists had to do with a world as remote from her own as the life of the moon or stars. It was one of those vague mys teries that made up the wonderful life of "down below." Why had these things been left here in such confu sion? If there was a man about who owned them he would doubtless return to claim them. She crept over, eyes and ears alert, and slipped around to the front of the queer tripod, with all her muscles poised In readiness for flight. A half-rapturous and utterly aston ished cry broke from her lips. She tared a moment, then dropped to the moss-covered rock, leaning back on her brown hands and gazing Intently. "Hit's purty!" she approved, In a low, musical murmur. "Hit's plumb, dead beautiful!" Of course It was not a finished pic turemerely a study of what lay be fore her but the hand that had placed these brush strokes on the academy board was the sure, deft hand of a master of landscape, who hud caught the splendid spirit of the thing and fixed it immutably In true and glowing appreciation. Who he was; where he had gone; why his work stood there unfinished and aban- doned, were details which for the mo ment this half-savage child-woman for got to question. She was conscious only of a sense of revelation and awe Then she saw other boards, like the one upon the easel, piled near the paint box. These were dry, and rep resented the work of other days; but they wero oil pictures of her own mountains, and In each of them, as In this one. wan something that made her heart leap. To her own people these steep hill sides and "coves" and valleys were matter of course. In their stony soli they labored by day, and In their shad ows slept when work was done. Yet someone hnd discovered that they held picturesque and rugged beauty; that they were not merely steep fields where the plow was useless and the hoe must be used. She must tell Sam son Samson, whom Bhe held In an artless exaltation of hero worship; Samson, who was so "smart" that he thought about things beyond ber un derstanding; Samson, who could not only read and write, but speculate on problematical matters. Suddenly she came to her feet with swift-darting Impulse of alarm. Her car had caught a sound. She cast searching glances about her, but the tangle was empty of humanity. The water still murmured over the rocks undisturbed. There was no sign of human presence, other than herself, that her eyes could discover and yet to ber ears came the sound again, and this time more distinctly. It was the sound of a man's voice, and It was moaning as if In pain. She rose and searched vainly through the bushes of the hillside where the rock ran out from the woods. She lifted her skirts and splashed her feet In the shallow creek water, wading persistently up and down. Her shyness was forgotten The groan was a groan of a human creature In distress, and she must llnd and succor the person from whom It came. Certain sounds are baffling as to dl rectlon. A voice from overhead or broken by ecuolng obstacles does not readily betray Its source. Finally she stood up and listened once more In tently ber attitude full of tense ear nestness. "I'm shore a fool," the announced, half aloud. "I'm shore a plumb fool." FROM PHOTOGRAPHS FLAY COPYRIGHT . 191 J. A". JV J WATT CDWHM Then she turned and disappeared In the deep cleft between the gigantic . bowlder upon which she had been sit- ting and another-small only by com- parlson. There, ten feet down, in a narrow alley littered with ragged stones, lay the crumpled body of a man. It lay with the left arm doubled under It, and from a gash In the fore head trickled a thin stream of blood. AIho, it was the body of such a man as she hud not seen before. Although from the man came a low groan mingled with his breathing, it was not such a sound as comes from fully conscious lips, but rather that of a brain dulled Into coma. Freed from her fettering excess of shyness, by his condition, the girl stepped surely from foothold to foot hold until she reached his side. She stood for a moment with one hand on the dripping walls of rock, looking down while her huir fell about her face. Then, dropping to her knees, she shifted the doubled body Into a leaning posture, straightened the limbs, and began exploring with effi cient Angers for broken bones. She had found the left arm limp above the wrist, and her fingers bad diagnosed a broken bone. Rut uncon sciousness must have come from the blow on the heud, where a bruise was already blackening, and a gash still trickled blood. She lifted her skirt and tore a long strip of cotton from her single petti coat. Then she picked her bare-footed way swiftly to the creek bed. where she drenched the cloth for bathing and bandaging the wound. When she had dono what she could by way of first aid she sat supporting the man's shoulders and shook her bead dubi ously. Finally the man's lids fluttered and his lips moved. Then he opened his eyes. "Hello!" snld the stranger, vaguely. "I seem to have " He broke off, and his lips smiled. It waa a friendly, un derstanding smile, and the girl, fight ing hard the shy Impulse to drop bis shoulders and flee Into the kind mask ing of the bushes, waB In a meaaure reassured. "You must hev fell offen the rock," eho enlightened. "I think I might have fallen Into worse circumstances," replied the un known. "I reckon you kin set up after a little." "Yes, of course." The man suddenly realized that although he was quite comfortable as he was he could scarcely expect to remain permanently In the support of her bent arm. He attempted to prop himself on his hurt hand and relaxed with a twinge of ex treme pain. The color, which bad be gun to creep back Into his cheeks, left them again, and his lips compressed themselves tightly to bite off an ex clamation of suffering. "Thet air left arm air busted," an nounced the young woman, quietly. "Ye've got ter be heedful." Had one of her own men hurt him self and behaved stoically It would have been mere matter of course; but her eyes mirrored a pleased surprise 1 ' j iftifc " j mm A Low Groan Mingled With Breathing. His at the stranger's good-natured nod and his quiet refusal to give expression to pain. It relieved her of the neces sity for contempt. "I'm afraid," apologized the painter, "that I've been a great deal of trouble to you." ( Her lips and eyes were sober as she replied. "I reckon thet's all right." "And what's worse, I've got to be more trouble. Did you see anything of a brown mule?" " She shook her head. "He must have wandered off. May I ask to whom I am Indebted for thle first aid to the Injured?" "I don't know what ye means." She hnd propped him against the rocks and snt near by, looking into his face with almost disconcerting steadi ness; her solenin-pupiled eyes were unblinking, "Unsmiling. "Why, I meun who are you?" he laughed. "I hain't nobody much. I Jest lives over yon," m "Dut," Insisted the man, "surely you have a name." She nodded. "Hlt'e Sally." "Then, Miss Sally, I want to thank you." Once more she nodded, and, for the first time, let her eyes drop, while she Bat nursing her knees. Finally she glanced up and asked with plucked up courage: "Stranger, what mout yore name be?" "Lescott George Lescott" : mm , mm rV t) A.'. 'X TV- ; "How'd ye git hurt He ehouk his head. "I was painting up there," he snld; "and I guess I got too absorbed in the work. I stepped backward to look at the canvas and forgot where the edge was. I stepped too far." The man rose to his feet, but he tot tered and reeled against the wall of ragged stone. The blow on his head had left him faint and dizzy. He sat down again. "I'm afraid," he ruefully admitted, "that I'm not quite ready for discharge from your hospital." "You Jest set where yer at." The girl rose and pointed up the mountain' "I'll light ou .across 1 the hill and fo . Samson an' his mule, . h nnd, "" f'""7 .b? I f ,'. He reallz th,,at , ho t- "l ',u"c' '"- en Into darkness, and that the way out, ungulded, would become impos sible. "It sounds like the name of a strong man." I "I means Samson South," she en lightened, as though further descrlp- j tion of one so celebrated would be re dundant. "He's over thar 'bout three- ' nlliirln,. " "Throe-quartera of a mile?" She nodded. What else could three quarters mean? "How long will It take you?" he asked. She deliberated. "Snmson's hoeln corn in the fur hill field. He'll hev ter cotch his mule. Hit mout tek a hulf-hour.". "You can't do It In a half-hour, can you 7 'I'll Jest take my foot In my hand, an' light out." She turned, and with a nod was gone. At luKt she came- to a point where a clearlr.f rose on the mountainside above her. The forest blanket was stripped off to make way for a fenced in and crazlly tilting field of young corn. High up and beyond, close to the bald shoulders of sandstone which threw themselves against the sky, was the figure of a man. As the girl halted at the foot of the field at last, panting from her exertions, he was sitting on the rail fence, looking absently down on the outstretched panorama below him. Samson South was not, strictly speaking, a man. His age was per haps twenty. He sat loose-jointed and Indolent on the top rail of the fence, his bands hanging over bis knees, his hoe forgotten. Near by, propped against the rails, rested a repeating rifle, though the people would have told you that the truce in the "South- Hollman war" had been unbroken for two years, and that no clansman need In these halcyon days go armed afield. CHAPTER II. Sally clambered lightly over the fence and started on tho last stage of her Journey, the climb across the young corn rows. It was a field stood on end, and the hoed ground was un even; but with no seeming of weari ness her red dress flashed steadfastly across the green spears, and her voice was raised to shout: "Hello, Samson!" The young man looked up and waved a languid greeting. He did not remove his hat or descend from his place of rest, and Sally, who expected no such attention, came smilingly on. Samson was her hero. Slow of utterance and diffident with the strnnger, worde now came fast and fluently as she told her story of the man who lay hurt at the foot of the rock. "Hit hain't long now tell sundown," she urged. "Hurry, Samson, an' git yore mule. I've done give him my promise ter fotch ye right straight back." Samson took off his hat, and tossed tho heavy lock upward from his fore- bead. Ills brow wrinkled with doubts. "What sort of lookln' feller air he?' While Sally sketched a description, the young man's doubt grew graver. "This hain't no fit time ter be takln' In folks what we hain't acquainted with," he objected. In the mountains any time Is the time to take In Strang' ers unless there are secrets to be gunrded from outside eyes. "Why hain't It?" demonded the girl "He's hurt. We kaln't leave him layln' thar. kin we?" Suddenly her eyes caught sight of the rifle 'eanlng near by, and straight way they filled with apprehension Her militant love would have turned to hate for Samson, should he have proved recreant to the mission of re prisal In which he was biding his time, yet the coming of tho day when the truce nnMt end haunted her thoughts. She came close, and her voice sank with her sinking heart. "What air hit?" she tensely demand ed. "What ulr hit, Samson? What fcr hev ye fetched yer guu ter the field?1 The boy laughed. "Oh, hit ain't nothln' pertie'ler," he reassured. "Hit hain't nothln' fer a gal ter fret herself erbout, only I kinder suspicions strangers Jost now "Air the truce busted?" Sho put the question in a tense, deep-breathed whisper, and the boy replied casually, almost Indifferently. "No, Sally, hit hain't Jest ter say busted, but 'pears liko hit's right smart cracked. I reckon, though," he added in holf-dlsgust. "nothln' won't come of hit." Somewhat reassured, she bethought herself again of her mission "This here furrlncr hain't got no harm in him, Samson," she pleaded, "He 'pears ter be more like a gal than a man. He's real puny. He's got white skin and a bow of ribbon on his neck an' ho prints plctchers." The boy's fuce had been hardening with contempt as the description ad vanced, but at the last words a glow came to his eyes, and he demanded almost breathlessly: "Pnlnts plctchers? How do ye know that?" "I seen 'em. He was palntln' one when he fell offen the rock and busted his arm. It's shoro es beautiful es " Bhe broke off, then added with a sud den peal of laughter "es er plctcher." The young man slipped down from the fence, and reached for the rifle The hoe he loft where It stood, "I'll git the nag," he announced briefly, and swung off without further parley toward the curling spiral of smoke that marked a cabin a quarter of a mile below. Ten minutes later his bare feet awung against the ribs of a gray mule and his rifle lay bal need across the unsaddled withers, Sally sat mountuln fashion behind him, facing straight to the side. So they came along the creek bed and Into the sight of the man who Btlll sat propped against the mossy rock. As Lescott looked up he closed the case of his watch and put It back Into his pocket with a smile. "Snappy work, that!" be called out. "Just thirty-three minutes. I didn't believe It could be done.' Samson's face was masklike, but as he surveyed the foreigner, only the ingrained dictates of the country's hospitable code kept out of bis eyes a gleam of scorn for this frail mem ber of a eex which should be stalwart. "Howdy?" be said. Then he added suspiciously; "What mout yer busi ness be In these parts, stranger?" Lescott gave the Odyssey of his wan derings, since he had rented a mule at Hlxon and ridden through the coun try, sketching where the mood prompt ed and sleeping wherever he found a hospltablo roof at the coming of the evening. 'Ye come from over on Cripple- hln?" The boy Hushed the question with a sudden hardening of the voice, fa Tamarack Spicer. and, when he was affirmatively ans wered, his eyes contracted and bored searchlngly Into the stranger's face. 'Where'd ye put up last night? 'Red Hill Hollman'B house, at the mouth of Meeting House fork; do you know the place?" Samson's reply was curt. "I knows hit all right." There was a moment's pause rather an awkward pause. Lescott' mind began piecing together frag ments of conversation ho had heard, until he had assembled a sort of men tal Jigsaw puzzle. The South-Hollman feud had been mentioned by the more talkative of his Informers, and carefully tabooed by others notable among them his host of last night. It now dawned on him that he was croKsing tho boun dary and coming as the lute guest of a Hollman to ask the hospitality of a South. I didn't know whose house it was," he hastened to explain, "until I was benighted and asked for lodging. Tbey were very kind to me. I d never seen them before. I'm a stranger here abouts. Samson only nodded. If the explana tion failed to satisfy him, It at least seemed to do so. "I reckon ye'd better let me holp ye up on thet old mule," he said; hit's a-comln' on ter be night. With the mountaineer's aid, LeBcott clambered astride the mount, then he turned dubiously. 'I'm eorry to trouble yon," he ven tured, "but I have a paint box ana some materials up there. If you'll bring them down here, I'll show you how to puck the easel, and, by the way," he anxiously added, "please to handle that fresh canvas carefully by the edge It's not dry yet." He had anticipated Impatient con tempt for his art!nt's impedimenta, but to his surprise the mountain boy HISTORIC FIND IN PALESTINE Chlcagoan Reports Discovery of Floor of Church Dating From Third or Fourth Century. Dr. (Jeorge L. RoblnBon of the Mo Cormlck Theological seminary, who has returned to Chicago after a year's study of ruins In Palestine, reports the finding of an ancient mosaic floor one mile south of St. Nebo, "Tho floor was discovered by an Arabian farmer who dug Into the earth to build a foundation for a barn." he said. "The floor was In one of the early Christian churches and was built In the third or fourth century. "FlowerB, animals nnd Greek In scriptions are Inlaid In most artistic manner. The mosaic Is In a perfect state of preservation and looks as though It might have been laid yes terday." As a result of his studies Doctor Robinson has come to the conclusion that the true Kadesh of Moses and the Israelites Is properly located at Aim Kadees. Doctor Uoblnson said he believed that the Catholics wero cor rect In their contention that Zlon Is located on the southwestern hill of Jerusalem and that Calvary Is under neath the church of the Holy Sep lucher. Must Have Some Evidence. "I tell you, Jack." said the enthu siast In the Derllner IlluBtrlrte Zeltung, "I have a new car that Is wonderful! It runs so smoothly that you can't feel It; It makes no noise at all, and there Is no smell of gaBollne! And speed! Why, It goes so faBt that you can't see It!" "Indeed!" replied his rriena. "You can't feel It, hear It, smell It, or see It? How under the sun do you know you've got a car, then?" climbed the rock and halted before the sketch with a face that slowly softened to an expression of amazed admiration. Finally he took up tbe square of academy board with a ten der care of which his rough hands would have seemed Incapable and stood stock still, presenting an anoma lous figure In his rough clothes as his eyes grew almost idolatrous. Then be brought the landscape over to Its creator, and, though no word wai spoken, there flashed between tbe eyes of the artist, whose signature gave to a canvas the value of a precious stone, and tbe jeans-clad boy whose destiny was that of the vendetta, a subtle, wordless message. It was the coun tersign of brothcrs-In blood who rec ognize In each other the bond of a mutual passion. The boy and the girl, under Lescott'e direction, packed the outfit and stored the canvas In the protecting top of the box. Then, while Sally turned and strode aown creek In search of Les cotfs lost mount, tho two men rode upstreum In silence. Finally Samson spoke slowly and diffidently. "Stranger," he ventured, "ef bit hain't nskln' too much, will ye let me seo ye paint one of them things?" "Olndly," was the prompt reply. Then the boy added covertly: "Don't soy nothln' erbout hit ter none of these folks. They'd devil mo." The dusk was fulling now, and the hollows choking with murk. "We're nigh home now," said Sam son at the end of some minutes' silent plodding. "Hit's right beyond thet thur bend." Then they rounded a point of tim ber and came upon a small party of men whose attitudes even In the dim ming light conveyed a eubtle sugges tion of portent. "Thet you, Samson?" called an old man's voice, which was still very deep and powerful. "Hello, Hue' Spencer!" replied the boy. Then followed a silence unbroken until the mule reached the group, re vealing that besides the boy another mun and a strunge man had Joined their number. "Evenln', stranger," they greeted him, gravely; then again they fell silent, and In their silence was evi dent constraint. "This hyar man's a furrlner," an nounced Samson, briefly. "He fell offen a rock an' got hurt. I 'lowed I'd fotch him home ter stay all night." The elderly man who had hailed the boy nodded, but with an evident an noyance. It seemed that to him the others deferred as to a commanding officer. The cortego remounted and rode slowly toward the house. At lust tho elderly man came alongside the mule and inquired: "Samson, where was ye lust night?" "Thet's my business." "Mebbe hit ain't." The old moun tnineer spoke with no resentment, but deep gravity. "We've been powerful OHensy erbout ye. Hev ye heered the news?" "What news?" The boy put the question noncommittally. "Jesse I'urvy was shot this morn ing." The boy vouchsafed no reply. "The mull rider done told bit. . . . Somebody shot five shoots from the laurel. . . . Purvy hain't died ylt . . . Some says as bow his folks haB sent ter Lexington fer blood hounds." The boy's eyes began to smolder hatefully. "I reckon." he spoke slowly, "be didn't git shot none too soon." "Samson!" The old man's voice had the ring of determined authority. "When I dies ye'll be the head of the Souths, but so long es I'm a-runntn' this hyar fam'ly I keeps my word ter friend an' foe alike. I reckon Jesse Purvy knows who got yore pap, but up till now no South hain't never busted no truce." Tho boy's voice dropped Its softness and took on a shrill crescendo of ex citement as he flashed out his retort. "Who enld a South has done busted the truce this time?" Old Spicer South gazed searchlngly at his nephew. (TO BK CONTINUED.) MEASURING LIGHT OF STARS With Improved Instruments, Johns Hopkins Professor Hopes to Se cure Most Important Results. A recent number of Ie Radium con tains a paper by Dr. A. II. Pfund of Johns Hopkins university, In which he describes some preliminary tests he has made of a new apparatus for meusuring the light of a star. The work was done at the Allegheny ob servatory, tho Keeler 30-lnch reflector being UBed. In the focus of the tele scope, either of two small blackened disks, which formed the junction of a thermo-circult, could be placed. The wires used for the thermo-element were alloys of bismuth and tin, and of antimony and bismuth respectively. They were enclosed In an evacuated capsule, closed at one end by a plate of fluorlte nnd substituted for the eye piece of the telescope. The thermo current wus measured by a moving coil galvanometer. The sensitive nesB of the arrangement was such that a candle at a distance of 80 miles would give a deflection of one mil limeter. The deflections obtained from ceiostlul objects were: Vega, 7.6; Jupiter, 3.0; Altair, 2.0 millime ters. The author hopes, by using a more sensitive galvanometer and ma terials for his thermo-elements, to In crease the sensitiveness considerably, and In this way to open up a new field of astro-physical research. 1 Old Age. "My son, you want to Btop this re. nlng around nights." "It don't hurt me, father." "Yes, it does. It will make you old before your time." "Well, that won't lay me up. The world la thousands of years old, and it runs around nights, don't It?" Let Us Pray Br REV. J. H. RALSTON Swnturai Conwpoadcac Dvtrtaat u i d:lu 1...:..... n: TKXT-I will thrfor that men pray everywhere. Very few respond to the desire ot the writer of the text. Tho infidel ridicules prayer; the man absorbed in business affairs sneers at it, tho formalist treats It mechanically; the ordinary church member neglects It; the average Christian only oc casionally prac tices It. It Is left to tho ono In a thousand to real ize It fully. To define prayer is difficult Rev erence, submission to the will of God, sincerity, the spirit of forgiveness, de.1 niteness of supplication, whole-hcart-edness and recognition of Jesus Christ must go Into It. Prayer does not re quire definition, and the best prayers rarely ever fit any mold of defini tion. Some seem to think that tho chief blessing of prayer is subjective, that it does any one good to get into the attitude of prayer and to talk to God. Granting that there is much benefit in this, we would make the point that prayer Is petition. It is the asking of God for things desired. Men do not get many blessings that they wish simply because they do not ask God for them "Ye have not because ye ask not." Prayer does not depend on location, attitude, or other circumstances. If the cathedral is not at hand, the open air will do, even a street corner; men pray lying down, standing up, kneeling or sitting;, garb, social stand ing, favor or opposition of men has nothing to do with essential prayer. It Is tho real purpose of the heart that certifies its genuineness. What Will Prayer Do? It will move the arm that moves the world. The philosophy of prayer Is as reasonable as that of any problem of cause and effect. If man prays as he should, just what he prays for will be granted. He stretches his hand over the sea and prays and the wa ters part; another man calls for fire from heaven and it falls; another prays for the sick and immediately health returns; another prays for the redemption ot the drunkard or the prostitute, and behold the former be comes an upright, honest, trustworthy citizen, and the latter becomes worthy to stand In any place in refined soci ety or in tho home circle. "More things are done by prayer than man dreams of." There Is only one prayer that the man who is not right with God is justified In offering, and that Is. "God bo merciful to me a sinner." That prayer Is really the surrender of the heart and life to God. The man who prays must have acquaintance ship with God, must have the right to call God Father, and no one can do this who does not believe In Jesus Christ. Men living In sin are the children of the devil and have no right to pray, that Is,, to have communion with God, except as the publican had. The desire of the writer of the text was the desire that men might get right with God. Comparatively anything within the will of God Is a proper subject of prayer, and that will Is readily found in the nible. To Prny nilly-willy or without regard to the great moral and spiritual issues that may be at Btake may possibly be very sinful. How to Cet to Praying. After the Cilvl war closed tho ques tion arose as to how to resume specie payments, and a wise statesman an swered by saying "The way to re sume is to resume." So we Bay, the way to pray is to pray. If a man has reason to believe he Is a child of God, he has a right to pray, and the obligation slighted brings guilt on him. God Is the only one who can supply his need, and the thins to do Is simply to usk God to supply it. Men could have the dearest objects of life met if they would ask God for them, even the salvation of their dear est friends, even their own children When the devil wus sick, the devil a monk would bp; When the -devil wus well, tha devil a monk wus he. So truthfully wrote an old English satirist. That principle applies all through history. When men are pros perous everywhere they do not pray, When they fall into trouble they pray and do It with an earnestness that Ig nores propriety and circumstance, Was there ever a time In this gemma tion when the world as a whole was in greater distress than now? Men's hearts aro falling them for fear. As ever, God 1b a present help In time of trouble and the call of the day is to pray. Man has failed, civilization tas failed, half-skeptical and half hearted Christianity 1b threatened with failure. God Is the only refuge and in God alone Is the strength ot man. And nhall he not ask for it? Wisdom of the Ancients. There is but little In a woman's afl vice; yet he that won't take it is nol overwise. Cervantes. Dally Thought. People who are nobly happy constl tute the power, the beauty and tin foundation of the state. Jean Flnot Proper Deduction. I have not drawn my principles from my prejudices, but from the nature ol things. Montesquieu. tolMlONAL suofflSim Lesson (By B. O. 8KLLER3, Acting Director of Sunday School Course.) LESSON FOR DECEMBER 13 THE GREAT COMMISSION. LESSON TEXT-Mutt. 28:l-20; I.uk M M-49. GOLDEN TEXT Lo, I am with you ti. ways, even unl" the end of the wurhl Matt. 28:S0. This lesson consists of two para graphs which constitute what mlKht be termed two commissions or two puru of the Great Commission. There are four distinct accounts of the final com mands of our Lord to his diuciples, ' each presenting a different plume of the work he committed to his follow ers. In this lesson we have fur our consideration two of these aspccU which ought not to be confused. I. The Appearance In Jerusalem. Thomas Being Absent. Luke 24:3649. (1) The Resurrected Lord, vv. 36-43. The Emmaus disciples reported to the disciples, and those gathered with them in Jerusalem, tho things tbey had experienced, especially la the breaking of bread. This occurred lata in the evening (see Luke 24:29, 33). While they, and the others, were re hearsing the many things that had ta ken place on that first eventful day, Jesus himself suddenly appears In their midst without the opening of a door and asks them of their thoughts. Once before he had thus searched them (Luke 9:46, 47), but now the oc casion is quite different Fear of the Jews had crowded them Into this room but no closed door except that ot the human heart can keep out the risen Lord. Simon's report (ch. 24:34) and that of the Emmaus diBciples were not sufficient to allay their fear. Fear at this visible evidence of the supernat ural is true of us all, but whoa Jesus truly Is present there is peace no matter what may be tho turmoil with out, or the fear within. Man of Flesh and Bone. This appearance was a demonstra tion that it was he himself, and to add proof upon proof he first showed them his pierced hands and feet, and then called for fish and ate it before, and doubtless with, them. Jcub is today a man of flesh and bnne as much ai when he walked Galilee's hills Ills blood he poured out upon Calvary. The evidence of the literal, physical resurrection of Christ Is so overwhelm ing that the unbeliever does violence to his reason not to accept it. (2) The Ascended Lord, vv. 4449. This coming of Jesus and his messige of peace and assurance wrought also a commission thnt this great fait be told to others. The event recorded In these verses did not occur in Jeru salem but upon Mount Olivet and con stitutes the final appearance of Jesus. As he had done often before, bo now he sets his seal upon the Old Testa ment, expressly speaklm; of Its books under their accepted three-fold vi sion (v. 44). In these there are be tween three and four hundred Hrect, not to speak of the indirect, prophe cies concerning him. What we need is to hove the Holy Spirit that we may "understand" (v. 43), the purpose of his life and death. Jesus taught mi disciples what that purpose is (. "). viz., the "remission of Bins, Dasca the sure ground of his finished wort This, and this alone, is the gospel and it Is to be preached in his name unto all nntlons a missionary suRcestlon- k.. Ki-ni,,,r at tinnio In Jerusalem- Verse 49 tells us of that oth. r nwM tr. nli,o hi effective nesses, the enduemcnt of the w Spirit Snms DIselDles Doubted, II. The Appearance to the Eleve" In Galilee, Matt. 28:15-20. This event took pluce much later than that men tioned in the first part of the pr" section. As we carefully read IWJ i. .. tii:.t Jesus was eeuuuu it pufibrno somewhat removed from i i.,i .. ttw.if viulon was so char that they worshiped him. though doubted. Drawing near to n clples he first of all cninlw supreme authority, "all l', r ' h unto me," and on that author y commissioned them to their wor discipling "all nations." ,6, derlng of this commissi i " is more Inclusive, "to the m tion," including all of man social as well os spiritual- thus to claim authority ana forth his ambassadors and tw w "the very God of tho very r.oo , stamp him either us an impo lunatic. Because ft" Pott, r e ,o therefore the obligation and i companylng Holy Spirit , able us to teach the things new manded. There Is back or mission "all power" nno a ( 0 ing it a blessed fellowship, i- with you all the days- r!, The sad thing U thnt "" carried two thousand years we (f8,0. out so poorly the great con" p And lastly the disciple to in his own strength r parables describe fully J t' A. which the disciples , -.folio' they went forward and a in their train" tc ' 'Jo, W the enterprises of h 1 1 0 clared that he would be ' with ub until tho time of motion of the ago. gofi off "When we go bis a' we go way; but if we go our ov" alone." a t Electricity- . r Time hardly enters Inio . phic of tho transmission of a aV thousand miies, - d lt, -, it Is a hundred-provi" as Is continuous. What Suited Hl j0n 1 "I like to seo a woman! of those clinging fV Mr. Oabb. "I too y 0,-n clln Mrs.Gabb. "The 'on'j you to me the better pleea Cincinnati Enquirer.
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