THE FULTON
COUNTY NEWS, McCONNELLSBURG, PA.
& RANDAU PARRI5H
A Romance of EarlvDavs
in the Middle
Authorof "Keith of the Dordcr,""My Lady
of Doubt," "The Maid of the
SYNOPSIS.
AiUia la Chonnaynr, a -!:- of N"
FYiini-, In among i-on.Hpiratuiii at hfi un
ci' liue. CiiMtlun, (l.e comTiiio.-iaii'".
him ntilmieil hi.T 1'nrl- Cl.evei' aid
aK'ilimt l.n rll. !' Arinrny, l.a S illc h
fl It'llil. Offt-r III servicra us uuJe to C'l-
ion jmrty on the Jouui-y In tlm winter
mm Ills uiit'ln li.furnis A.I.I.- th.it li'J
lias burnt Iml her M CiixhIoii ami torliMa
bfr o ei li'Aitlnnv hkiiiii. In quilivc
Ad-le visita Imt Irn-inl. Maler C'iieMi
who twlnm IVArilcny to hi-r. Shi- 1 !
Mm lirr mry nn.1 he vows to reh'-'iK" l'r
from the tuiririiln ultli Oinnlon. D'.vnm
l:v havt-a proml.-llof tu her at Inn
chino-. I'm-dun fiHirn Adrle 1 1 - hall.
Hhe iiiiets tin- K.iv.Tli.ir, Ul iiiirre. bm.1
tior hltn nrn the i-uiniiits.iiri: iKai:i.sl
P'Artlunv. I rtu!i'ii thW.-t to th hiil
has t arti r" iiliol. hut h iMtn entr.iii'
by the wimli'W. Al"ic infuMiis him of
Kovfrmrs wi,pl to r:iiin. l-'or lr
'.lVr-.lrii'iliir lit the hull Ail'le Ih orilolril
hv th k"-ruor to rimrry Cn.i-Uri M orw
atl'l lo ui'i-ompany htm to th" IIUmoi.h
.tinii He summons Chi'vet nnl tlr-'-that
he aiiti-ml tm-m on the Journey. Tl'v
leave In the hoaia. Ailr' fi.line 1 1 1 -1 . . 1 -Inv
or. tin- ilwmlnn of li'Artiirny whom
ha now know h- luwr fusion ami
li'Artlitiiv have aonls. I'nrle I'h-wt "'
the Crxt time liertrs thai tils :! I i
l!i-lrsM. an.) he win a to u- ' Criml'm"
moiivw A i' l! i.fii!t'H to permit h. r h'
haotl to fh;ip her ult'.-plni; qi;;irti'rn.
rhfvi't airr.- id help h. r. iii t ilkn
iT-?iv to I ' Arllff.v. hill he I'ei-IHH to
Kive ),f a. 'the uul uamsl l.er hu.ianu.
Bad luck frequently comes In
bunches. Adele has been buf-
feted by fate for months, nay for J
several years. In this fight
against Commissaire Cassion J
she needs dlrely every aid she
can muster, yet one after an-
other her sources of help fall
away. This is a thrilling install-
ment, which describes how she
receives two serious shocks.
One of them blackens her love
affair. The other frightens her.
Cawion finds his wife alone on the
hill and discovers a man's footprints.
He accuses her angrily.
CHAPTER XI Continued.
"Tin? print I.' fnh, not ancl.-nt. nmj
noiip of the men from my camp have
come tills wuy."
IIo Htroile forward across tli nar
row r'n Hpni't ami disappeared Into
the frlnze of trees liorderiiic tlie i'il,'e
of t!ie lilntT. It would have Ik'imi easy
for rue to depart, to pseiipo to tli" se
curity of the tent heNnv. Imt curiosity
held me motionless. I knew what In
wouUl discover, and preferred to face
the fonseiicri'i4 where 1 was free to
answer l.lai face to face. I wHlied
him to be suspicion, to feel that be
hud a rival: I would fan his Jealousy
to the very danger point. Nor had I
lonif to wnlt. Forth fnmi Hie shade
of tin' trees he hurst nud cair.e toward
me, Ws face white, bis eye blazing.
"Tlij the fellow I thoiilit." be burst
forth, "laid be went down the face of
the bluff yonder. So you dared to have
.... st with blm?"
"With whom, monsieur?"
I'Artl.'tiy, the ymins f.iol! I'o you
think me blind? ild I not know you
were together In Quebec? Wimt uro
you laujihlm; nt?"
'I xrm not laitirhlns. nionsleur. Your
ridiculous charee does not nmilse me.
! am a woman; you Insult me: I am
your wife: you cliarse me with lmlis
rre'lou. If you think to win me with
fuch rowardly Insinuations you know
little of my nature. I will not talk
with yon. nor discuss the matter. I
return to the enmp."
Ill hands clinched ns tlioiiu'h be
had the throat of an enemy between
them, but nntrry ns he was, some
Viiu'ue doubt restrained Mm.
-Men dleii: I'll ll.'l.t the do?:"
"Ii'Artiiny, yon nienn? Tis tils
trade. I bear, and he Is ji.hmI at It."
Tiah! a bungler of the woods. I
doubt If he ever crossed Ii!mi"s with
a swordsman. Itnt mark ymi this,
madiime. the lad feids my steel If ever
yon so much as speak to him niraln."
There was contempt In my eyes, nor
did I strive to disguise It
"Am I your wife, monsieur, or your
pltiTe?"
"My wife, and I know how to hold
you! Mon dleu! but you shall learn
that lesson. I was a fool to ever u'lve
Hie brat place In the boats. I.a llarre
warnift me that he would make ti.m
Me. .now I tell yon what will occur
If j imi play false with me."
"Too may spare your threat they
wel'h nothing. The Slenr d'Arti'tiy
Is my friend, and I shall address him
when It pleases nie. With whatever
(junrrel may arise between you I have
no Interest. I,et that sul'lce, nn I now
I bid vou good night, monsieur."
lie made no effort to halt me. nor
to follow, and I made my way down
the darkening palli. without so much
as turning my head to observe bis
movement. It was almost like a play
to me. nnd I was reckless of the con
sequences. Intent only on my purpose.
In the early dawn we broke camp
as usual, except that chosen boatmen
pilided the emptied canoes through the
rapids, wn'.le the cithers of the party
made portage along the rough shore.
In the smooth water above we nil em
harked again, and won slow way
against the current. The advance com
pauy had departed before our arrival,
nor did I again obtain glimpse of
IVArllgny for many days.
I would uot say that Cassion pur
posely kept us apart, for the arrnnce
iru'til might have been t lie same had
I not been of the party, yet the only
communication between the two ill vi
sion occurred when some messenger
brought back wnnilnj; of dangerous
watr ahead. Usually Ihi messenger
was on Indian, but once I'Arllgny
himself came and Rinded our canoe
throtiirb i torrqut uf white, ragltiK Wl-
I 'I
West M
Forest," etc
ler, iiuild a maze of murderous rocks.
I urlng these days nnd weeks Cassion
treated inc with consideration and out
ward respect. Not that he failed to
talk freely, and to boast of his ex
ploits and adventures, yet he refrained
from laying hand on me, nor did lie
once refer to the incident of the bluff.
Nor was the Journey lacking In In
terest or ndventure. Never shall 1
forget the charm of those days and
nights, amid which we made slow and
toilsome passage through the desolate
wilderness, ever gaining new leagues
to the westward. Only twice In weeks
illd we encounter human beings once
a camp of Indians on the shore of a
lake, and once a Capuchin monk, nlone
but for a single voyageur ns com
panion, passed us upon the river. And
when, at last, we made the long por
tage, tramping through the dark for
est aisles, bearing on our shoulders
heavy loads, scarcely able to see the
sun even at midday through the leafy
screen of leaves, and came forth at
twilight on Die shorts of the mighty
lake, no words can express the rap
tures with which I stood and gazed
across that expanse of heaving, rest
less water. The men launched their
canoes upon the surface nud made
camp In the edge of the forest, but
I could not 'move, could not restrain
my eyes, until darkness descended and
left all before me a void.
It was scarcely more than daybreak
when we broke camp and headed our
canoes out Into the lake. With the
dawn, and the glint of sunlight over
the waters, much of my dread depart
ed, and I coiiid appreciate the wild
song of delight wl:h which our Indian
paddlers bent to their work. The
sharp prowed canoes swept through
the waters swiftly, no longer battling
against a current, and the shore line
ever In view was fascinating In It
green foliage. We kept close to the
northern shore, and soon found pas
sage nmld numerous Islands, forest
covered, but with high, rocky outline.
Tor four days we coasted tlins, never
out of sight of shore, and usually with
Islands between us and the main body
of water. In all that time we had no
sign of man not even a wisp of
smoke, nor beard the crack of distant
rl tic. About us extended loneliness
an.l desolation, great waters never
still, vast forests grim and somber,
tall, menacing rocks, bright-colored In
the snn.
As last we left the chain of Islands
behind, and one morning struck out
from the shore Into the waste of wa
ters, the prows of the canoes turned
westward, the Kteersmim guiding our
course by the sun. For several hours
we were beyond view of land, with
naught to rest the eye upon save the
gr;y sen, and then, when It was nearly
nlLht. we reached the shore ami
beached our canoes at St. Ignace.
So much had been said of St. Ignace,
and so long bad the name been fa
iiiKlar throughout New France, that
my first view of the place brought
me bitter disappointment.
The miserable little village was upon
a point of land, originally covered wl:h
heavy growth of forest. A bit of this
had been rudely cut, the rotting
stumps still stand'ne, and from the
timber a dozen rough log houses bad
been constructed facing the lake. A
few rods I k. on slightly higher land.
was a log chapd nnd a bouse, some
what more prefeuMous than the others.
In wlili h the priests lodged. The whole
aspect of the " place was peculiarly
desolate and depressing, facing that
vast waste of water, the black forest
shadows behind, nnd those rotting
stumps in the foreground.
Nor was our welcome one to make
the. heart rejoice. Scarce a dozen per
sons gathered at the beach to aid ns
In making landing, rough engages
mostly, and not among thetn all a face
familiar. It was only later, when
two priests from the mission came
hurrying forward, that we were greet
ed by cordial speech. These Invited a
few of us to become guest at the
mission house, and aislgned the re
mainder of our party to vacant huts.
Cassion, Chevet and I'ere Allouez
accompanied mc as 1 walked beside a
young priest up the beaten path, but
Ii'Artlgny was left lehiud with the
men. I overheard Cassion order him
to re'main. but he added some word
in lower voire, which brought a finsli
of anger Into the younger man's face,
although he merely tinned on his heel
without reply.
We remained nt St. Ignace three
days, busily engaged In repairing our
canoes and rendering them lit for the
long voyage yet before lis. From this
point we were to venture on treacher
ous waters, ns yet scarcely explore',
the shores Inhabited by savage, un
known tribes, with not a white man
In all the long distance from (Jrecn
Hay to the Chicago portage. Once 1
got out the map nnd traced the dis
tance, feeling sick nt heart as I thus
reairzed mote cleurly the weary Jour
ney. Those were dull, lonely days 1
passed In the desolate mission house,
while (lie others were busy nt their
various tasks. Only at night time, or
a they straggled In to their men I, did
I see anyone but I'ere Allouez, who
was always close at hand, a silent
shadow from whose presence I could
not escape. I visited the priest's gar
den, climbed the rocks overlooking
the water and even ventured Into Hie
dark forest, but he was ever beside
me. suave but Insistent on doing bis
master" will. The only glimpse I had
of I'Artlgnv wan at a distance, for
sir
not once did be approach the mission
house. So I was glud enough when
Hie canoes were ready, and all prep
arations made for departure.
Vet we were uot destined to escape
thus easily from St Ignace. Of what
occurred I must write as It happened
to me then, and not as Its full signi
ficance became later clear to my un
derstanding. It was after nightfall
when Cassion returned to the mission
house. The lights were burning ou
the table, and the three priests were
rather Itnputleutly waiting their even
ing meal, occasionally exchanging
brief seutences, or peering out through
tho open wluduw toward the dark
water.
Cassion came In alone, yet I ob
served nothing strange about his ap
pearance, except that he failed to
greet me with the usual nttempt at
gallantry, although his sharp eyes
swept our faces as he closed the door,
and stared about the room.
"What! not eaten yet?" he ex
claimed. "I anticipated my fate to
be n lonely meal, for the rascals
worked like snails, and I would not
leave them rest until nil was finished.
Faith, the odor Is appetizing, and I am
hungry ns a bear."
The younger priest wtred hi hand
to the servant yet nuked softly:
"Monsieur Chevet he U delayed
also?"
"He will sup with bis men tonight,"
returned Cassion shortly, seating him
self on the bench. "The sergeant
keeps guard of the canoes, and Chevet
will be useful with those off duty."
The man ate as though nearly fam
ished, bis ready tongue unusually si
lent, and nt the conclusion of the meal,
appeared so fatigued that I made early
excuse to withdraw so he might rest
in comfort, climbing the ladder In one
corner to my own bed beneath the
eaves. This apartment, whose only
advantage was privacy, was no more
than n narrow space between the slop
ing rafters of the roof, unfurnished,
but with a small window In the end.
closed by a wooden shutter. A parti
tion of nxo-hewu planks divided this
attic Into two compartments, thus enm
poslng the priests' sleeping chambers.
Whiie I was there they both occupied
the one ti) the south. Cassion, Chevet
and IVre Allouez resting In the main
room below.
As I lowered the trap In the floor,
shutting out the murmur of voices, 1
was conscious of no desire to sleep,
my mind busily occupied with possi
bilities of the morrow. I opened the
window ami seated myself on the
floor gazing out at the night. lielow
extended the priests' garden, and be
yond the dark gloom of forest depths.
The way of egress was easy a mere
step to the flat roof of tso kitchen,
the dovetailed logs of which afforded
a ladder to the ground. I had no ob
ject In such adventure, but a restless
Impulse urged me, nud, almost before
I realized my action. I was upon the
ground. Avoiding the gleam of light
which streamed from the open win
dow of the room below, I crossed the
garden nnd reached the path lending
downward to the shore. From this
point I could perceive the wide sweep
of water, showing silvery In the dim
moonlight, and detect the darker rim
of the land. There was tire on the
point below the huts, and its red glare
afforded glimpses of the canoes mere
blurred outlines and occasionally the
figure of a man, only recognizable us
be moved.
I was still staring at this dim pic
ture when some noise, other than the
wind, startled me nnd I drew silently
back behlud n great stump to avoid
discovery. My thought was that some
one had left the mission house Cas
sion perhaps with final orders to those
on the beach but a moment later I
realized my mistake, yet only crouched
lower in the shadow a man was ad
vancing from the black concealment
of the woods aud crossing (he open
space.
He moved cautiously, yet boldly
enough, nnd his movements were not
those of an Indian, although the low
bushes between us and the house
.aAfcsit .i.i,Vi-Vt
The Way of Egress Was Easy.
shadow, prevented my distinguishing
more than his mere outline. It was
only when lifled his head Into the
gleam of light, nnd took hasty survey
through the window of the scene with
in, that I recognized the face of
D'Artlguy. lie lingered scarcely a
moment, evidently sntlstled with what
lie saw, and the-i drew silently back,
hesitating a brief space, ns tliuugh de
bating his next movement.
I waited breathless, wondering what
his purpose could be, half Inclined to
Intercept and question blm. Was he
seeking to serve my cause? to learn
the truth of my relationship with Cas
sion? or did he have some other ob
ject, some personal feud In which he
sought revenge? The first thought
sent the warm blood leaping through
my veins; the second left me shivering
as If with sudden chill.
Kven as I stood, hcsiUtlng, uncer
tain, he turned and retraced his sleps
along the same path of his approach,
passing me not ten steps away and
vanishing Into the wood. I thought
mmmm
he paused at the edge nnd bent down,
yet before I found voice or determin
ation to stop blm, he had disappeared.
My courage returned, spurred by cur
iosity. Why should be take so round
about a wuy to reach the shore? Wbnt
was that black, shapeless tlilug be hud
paused to examine? I could see some
thing there, dark and motionless,
though to my eyes no more than a
shadow.
I ventured toward It, creeping be
hind the bushes bordering the path,
conscious of an odd fear ns I drew
closer. Yet It was not until I emerged
from the fringe of shrubbery that even
the faintest conception of what the
object was I saw occurred to me.
Then I stopped, frozen by horror, for
I confronted a dead body.
For an lnstnnt I could not utter a
sound or move a muscle of my body.
My hands clung convulsively to a
nearby branch, thus supporting uie
erect In spite of trembling limbs and
I stared at the gruesome object,
black nnd almost shapeless In the
moonlight. Only part of the trunk
was revealed, the lower portion con
cealed by bushes, yet I could no longer
doubt It was a man's body a large.
heavily built man, his Imt still crushed
on his head, but with face turned
away.
What couroge overcame my horror
and urged nie forward I cannot tell;
I seemed Impelled by some power not
my own, a vague fear of recognition
tugging nt my heart. I crept nearer,
almost Inch by Inch, trembling nt
every noise, dreading to discover the
truth. At Inst I could perceive the
ghastly features the dead man was
Hugo Chevet.
I nerved myself to the effort, nnd
turned the body sulllcletitly to enable
me to discover the wound he had
been pierced by a knife from behind;
had fallen, no doubt, without uttering
a cry, dead ere he struck the ground.
Then It was murder, foul murder, n
blow In the back. Why had the deed
been done? What spirit of revenge,
of hatred, of fear, could hnve led to
such an net? I got again to my feet,
staring about through the weird moon
light, every nerve throbbing. ' ns I
thought to grip the fact nnd Hud Us
cause. Slowly I drew back, shrinking
In growing terror from the corpse,
until I was safely In the priest's gar
den. There I paused Irresolute, my
dazed, benumbed brain beginning to
grasp thp situation and assert Itself.
CHAPTER XII.
The Murder of Chevet
Who had killed him? What should
I do? These were the two questions'
haunting my mind, nnd becoming more
nnd more Insistent. The light still
burned in the mission house, nnd I
could picture the scene within the
three priests reading, or talking softly
to each other, nnd Cassion nsleep on
his bench In the corner, wearied with
the day.
I could not understand, could not
Imagine n cause, and yet the assassin
must have been D'Artlguy. How else
could I account for his presence there
In the night his efforts at conceal
ment, his bending over the dead body,
and then hurrying away without
sounding an alarm. The evidence
against the man seemed conclusive.
nnd yet I would not condemn. There
might be other reasons for his si
lence, for bis secret presence, nnd If
I rushed Into the house, proclaiming
my discovery nnd confessing what I
had seen, he would be left without
defense.
Shrinking, shuddering at every
shadow, nt every sound, my nerves
throbbing with agony, I managed to
drag my body up the logs, and In
through the window, I was safe ther.,
but there was no banishing from mem
ory what I had seen what I 'knew
lay yonder In the wood shadow. I
sank to the floor, clutching the sill, my
eyes staring through the moonlight.
Once I thought I saw a man's Indis
tinct llguie move across an open space,
and once I heard voices far away.
I do not know that I was called.
yet when I nwoke a faint light pro
claiming the dawn was In the sky,
nud sounds of activity reached my
ears from the room below. I felt tired
and cramped from my unnatural posi
tion, but hastened to Join the others.
The morning meal was nlrendy on the
table, and we ate as usual, no one
mentioning Chevet, thus proving the
body had not been discovered. I could
scarcely choke the food down, antici
pating every Instant the sounding of
an alarm. Cassion hurried, excited, no
doubt, by the prospect of getting away
on our Journey, but seemed In excel
lent humor. Pushing back the box on
which he sat he buckled his pistol belt,
seized bis hat and strode to the door.
"We depart at once," be proclaimed
briefly. "So I will leave you here to
bring the Indy."
Pere Atlouez, still busily engaged,
murmured some Indistinct reply aud
Cassion's eyes met mine.
"You look pale nnd weary this morn
ing," he said. "Not fear of the voy
age, I hope?"
'No, nionsleur," I managed to an
swer quietly. "I slept III, but shall be
better presently shall I. hear my
blankets to the boats?"
'The servant will see to that, only
let there be ns little delay as possible.
Ah! hero comes a ' messenger from
below what Is It, my man?"
The fellow, one of the soldiers whose
face I did not recall, halted In the
open door, gasping for breath, bis eyes
roving about the room.
"He Is dead the blg'man," he stam
mered, "lie Is there by the woods."
"The big man dead!" Cnsslou drew
back, ns though struck a blow. "What
big man? Whom do you mean?"
"The one in the second canoe, mon
sieur; the one who roared."
"Chevet? Hugo Chevet? What has
happened to him? Come, speak up, or
I'll slit your tongue!"
The man gulped, gripping the door
with one hand, the other pointing out
ward. He Is there, monsieur, beyond the
trail, at the edge of the, wood. I saw
him with his face turned up Mon
dleu! so white; I dare not touch him,
but there was blood where a knife
had entered bis back."
AH were on their feet, their faces
picturing the sudden horror, yet Ces
sion was Orat to recover his wits, nnd
lend the way without. Grnsping the
soldier's axiii and bidding blm bow 1
where tho body lay, he thrust him
through the door. I lingered behind
shrinking from being again compelled
to view the sight of the dead man,
yet unable to keep entirely away. Cas
slon stopped, looking down at the ob
ject on the grass, but made no effort
to touch It with bis hands. The sol
dier bent and rolled the body over, aud
one of the prlesta felt In the pockets
of the jacket, bringing i forth a paper
or two. Cassion took these, gripping
thera In his fingers, his face appearing
gray Jit the early light.
"Mon dleu! the man has been mur
dered," he exclaimed, "u dastard blow
In the back. Look about and see If
you find a knife. Had he quarrel with
utiyone, Moulin?"
Tho soldier straightened up.
"No. monsieur; I heard of none,
though he was often rough and harsh
of tongue to the men. Ah! now I re-
mm f$$$m
"He Is Dead the Big Man," Ha Stam
mered. call, he hnd words with Sieur d'Artl
guy on the beach at dusk. I know not
the cause, yet the younger man left
him angrily nnd passed by where 1
Stood, with his hands clinched."
"D'Artlguy, hey!" Cnssiuu's voice
had a ring of pleasure in It. "Ay! he
is a hothead. Know you where the
young cock Is now?"
"He, with the chief, left an hour
ago. Was it not your order, mon
sieur?" Cassion made a swift gesture, hut
what it might signify I could not de
termine, ns his face was turned away.
A moment there was silence, ns he
shaded his eyes and peered out acrossJ
the water.
It certainly looks bad for J
O'Artlgny. Do you believe that
he has murdered Chevet In a fit J
of temper? Is there a possibil-
ity that Cassion knows more of J
the tragedy than his manner in-
a dicatcs? a
(TO EMC CCJXTI.VL'KD.l
FLAT FEET AND PATRIOTISM
Carelessness in Buying Shoes Unfits
Many Americans for Service
In the Army.
It Is not luck of patriotism that
makes Cncle Sum's tn.sk of recruiting
a big iiriny n illlllciilt task. It Is tint
feet nnd weak hearts, snys the New
York (ilobe. Despite prosperity there
are thousands of young men who, un
der the stimulus of preparedness cam
paigns, have been nnd are oflVring
their services to the country, hut few
lire accepted.
The preparedness parade Is having
Its effect. Thousands of Inquiries have
come Into the recruiting stations by
until, telephone and by rppllcnnts in
person. If only llnt-fnotc'lness nnd
weak hearts could be eliminated, there
would be uo difficulty in getting nil the
men necessary. The flat-footedness Is
due In a large respect to the careless
ness of most men In selecting proper
shoes. The poor heart showing is due
In a large measure, (be recruiting offi
cers suy, to the Increased number of
clgnrette smokers.
As nn Instance of the severity of the
physical examination, the report of
dipt. Frank B. F.vnns. recruiting offi
cer for the marine corps, mny be cited.
Captain Hvims has six recruiting sta
tions five In New York nnd one In
Newark. During the first eleven days
of Iay there were Hit applicants for
enlistment, and of (his number there
was not a single man who qualified.
The majority of these men were re
jected for poor hearts. Among the
others were many suffering from lhit
footednoss. Elephant Labyrinth.
Nenr Ayuthlii, formerly tho cnpltjil
of Sintn, Is a curious labyrinth In
which elephants are captured ullve.
The labyrinth Is formed by a double
row of Immense tree trunks set firmly
In the ground, the space between them
gradually narrowing. Where It begins
ut the edge of the forest the opening
of the labyrinth Is more than n mile
broad, but ns It approaches Ayuthia It
becomes so narrow that the elephants
cannot turn nround. Tume elephants
are employed to lure wild ones Into
the trap. Having reached the Inner
end of the labyrinth, the tiling eli
phants are allowed to puss through a
gate, while men lying in wait slip
shackles over the feet of the captives.
The Needful.
"What's the use of a'l of these here
ologles nnd folderols?" demanded the
old mini ns he looked over the list of
subjects his son had been studying
nt college. "Why don't they learn
you soinelhln' useful somethln' you
enn make money out of?"
"Money Isn't the only thing In the
world, father," said the young mun re
provingly. "Mebbe It ain't, son. - Mehho It ain't
I!ut I notice It's the only thing yon
ever asked for In the letters you wrote
to me und your ma white you we,i la
OPEN AIR
WORK
By REV. HOWARD W. POPE
Moody BlUt lmtitun.
Chicago ,
TEXT Go y . . . preach the Gospel to
vtry creature. Mark 18:16.
With the coming of summer church
audiences begin to dwindle, and street
nud parks begin
to swann with
people. Nature
spreads her car
pet of green, and
the ulr Is soft and
balmy. The birds
sing, the flowers
bloom nnd every
thing seems 1 0
say : "Come out
nnd enjoy life
with us." Why
should we try to
resist this plend
Ing and Insist on
holding all our re
ligious s e r v I ces
Indoors simply be-
cuuse we always have done It?
Many a church would double Its au
dience by holding nn occasional serv
ice out of doors, under the trees or In
some adjacent park. If chairs enn be
provided, so much the better. If not,
let the people sit on the grass ns they
did when Jesus preachod. If the church
has no convenient place for outdoor
meetings, hold un open nlr service on
the porch before the evening meeting.
Have plenty of good singing with two
or three-minute addresses sandwiched
between, und In a little while the chil
dren will gather, the pussers will stop,
the carriages will drive up and you
will have a large company of people,
many of whom would never think of
entering n church. If you have never
tried It, begin this season.
Every church ought to hnve a band
of open air workers to hold meetings
regularly all summer, ut such points ns
may seem most strntegic. Bonis
churches gnln from fifty to a hundred
new members each year by their open
air work In the summer. And even If
they did not add a single convert, they
would be well repaid for the effort
In the benefit obtained by the work
ers. Then too It affords nn outlet for
tho zenl and faith and energy of the
church. It puts new life Into every
department of work. The church be
gins to respect Itself, for It Is now
worklug on the nggresslve as It should,
and Is uo longer content to simply hold
Its own. The outside world will soon
recognize tho difference too, nud es
teem it more highly.
Open-air workers should be careful
ly trained, for no work requires more
tact, nnd wisdom, nnd holy boldness.
All kinds of talent can be used nnd
that Is another udvnntage. Those who
cuunot speak can sing, or pray silent
ly, or give out Oospel cards, or do per
sonal work, or keep the children quiet
The following suggestions are taken
from a book written by a very dear
friend of mine, Henry It. Gibbud. The
book Is called, "Under the Iiluo Can
opy of Heaven," and can be had for
CO cents of Mrs. II. B. Gibbud, Spring
field, Mass.
"rermlt. In towns nnd cities It Is
necessary to obtain a permit for street
services. Have someone of Influence
apply for the penult. A politician Is
better for this work than a preacher.
"I'lace of meeting. Go where the
people are. It mny be a uolsy phtce,
hut you have the people. If you wunt
quiet, go to the cemetery.
"Select a place where you hnve a
building at your back. It will act as
a sounding board, throwing out the
voice. If pisslble arrange the meet lug
so that you may also hnve n building
In front of you. It Is very hard to
speak In the open nlr, nnd a building
In front of you to throw the voice back
will make It much eusier.
"Talk with the wind always and
never against It
."Select a pluce where the audience
will be comfortable. Give them the
shade even If you have to stuud In
the sun.
"Have bright, new, catchy songs.
The audience ns a rule do not Join
In the singing, so that there Is less
need of familiar hymns.
"Speakers. Let them stand on a
chair, or box or platform. Then your
voice sounds out and over the crowd.
All can see you, and you cuu see them.
If nny disturbance occurs, such as
dog fight, always give out a hymn.
The song will put a new thought into
the dog's mind and often break up the
light
"Never ask questions of the crowd ;
you will get more than you bargained
for. Do not stop to answer questions
put. by the crowd, but courteously say
that you will be glad to talk with the
questioner after the service.
'Trench the Word. This old world
Is hungry for the plain Gospel uiude
fresh nnd vivid by actual experience.
Use plenty of Illustrations but see that
you huve something to Illustrate.
Nothing grips au audience or holds at
tention like the simple Gospel story
told out of a warm heart
"We do not have the Bible In sight
nor generally read from It for the fol
lowing reuson; Catholics will be preju
diced at once, and will not come up.
We quote from It nnd refer to It but
do not keep It In sight
"Call for decision at the close of the
service, or Invite Into a church If an
other service ts to follow. Let each
worker select someone for personal ef
fort when the meeting closes."
Ry offering to give away Gospel
cards or "Little Trenchers" at the
close of the service you can often hold
the entire crowd to the very end.
Show them the enrds and rend some
of the titles, such as "The Worklng
mnn's Trust Are you In Itr 'The
Three Cheers of Jesus," "Kour Thlngi;
Which One Ought . to Know." "The
Unanswerable Question." "Coffin
Nails." "Morbus Subbatlcus, or Sun
day Sickness" "Get Itlght With God."
"God Wants the Hoys." "Only Three
Steps Into the Christian Life."
Christ I the general manager of
Hod and man and the earth.
ff ' M
Housework Is a Burden
It's hard enough to keep house (
In perfect health, hut a woman wko
Is weak, tired and suffering from so
aching back has a heavy linrdasv
Any woman la this condition kn4
good cause to suspect kidney tru
ble, especially If the kldncj muwi
seems disordered.
Doan's Kidney Pills hnve ared
thousands of suffering women. ift
the best recommended spcdtii kid
ney remedy.
A Pennsylvania Cat
Mrs. Campfoit
titiriM, zm a l.'ih
St., I'hllotWiihla
Pa., says: 'for
five years I had
kidney dlmtwe.
couldn't rest win
and my liunltk tm
uo poor I eoulit
hardly do n,j
housework. I due
tored and tried ev
ory m d I a 1 n I
knew of, wltliiHit
success until I tuak
Doan's K I d a
Pills. They cured mo and It aaa Wwn
a ions' time since I have naa qr tar
ther kidney trouble."
Get Dmb'j at Any Store, SOe a Baal
DOAN'S
FOSTER-MJLBURN CO.. BUFFALO, H. Y.
V ' rashes, hives, red-
I ness and skin blemishes can
I be quickly removed With
Glenn's
K Sulphur
i
boap
Delightful in a warm bath
Dciore retiring soomestne I
k. I nerves and induces refresh I t
Tf ing sleep. Druggist. V VI
F JK Hill't Hir and Whiikr Dya, jT
lck or Brown. bOo. '
DROPPING OF MIDDLE NAMES
A Two-Ply Title Found to Be Mors
Convenient Socially, Morally and
Financially.
This Is tho day of the two-cylinder
nuine, which fact has been proved by
cognomen connoisseurs who have
looked over every iliiuic at Harvard
und Inspected the persons to whom the
names belong. They learned that
some extremely nice persons huvo no
middle names at nil, nnd seem to get
on rather well without them.
It Is 'assumed that the ever-growing
trend toward efficiency Is to lie
blamed for the dropping of oversized
names, for It has long been understood
that a person with a two-ply title need
not he especially einburrnsscd about It.
In the course of a wealthy man's life
It means the writing of about 10.000,
000 useless words If he uses his mid
dle mime nn checks nnd Indorsements,
nnd these things have got to ho con
sidered. Tho Porcelain club nt Harvard, the
most exclusive organization of Its kind
In the country, proves this year the
falling value f middle names. There
lire fifteen members this year, and but
five of them are burdened with exces
sive luinieiiclntiire.
Of course, George Washington and
Abraham Lincoln had no middle names,
hut this evidence Is considered as noth
ing nt Harvard compared with the fact
that Theodore Uoosevelt hasn't. That
one fact Is almost enough to wreck Un
complicated title system at the uni
versity. Electrio Wheel Chairs.
Klectiic wheel chairs similar to
those employed at (he I'aniiina-I'uclllc
International exposition last yetir are
being used successfully In Europe, for
the wounded and crippled soldiers.
Invnrliilily the convalescent men pre
fer to direct their own chair rather
than to have someone push them
about. One f these chairs, which is
of Swiss make and costs a small sum,
Is equipped with n one-quarter horse
power motor suspended between the
steering and rear wheel. Current Is
supplied from a battery of 15 lead
plate cells housed In three boxes be
neath the sent. The battery Is of 50
ampere hours capacity and provides
sufficient energy for a run of thirty to
forty miles, live forward and live
reverse speeds are provided. The
steering nnd operating uiechanlsia Is of
the very simplest.
Indeed It Does.
"Telephones are great time savers,
aren't they?"
"Well, that depends upon who ealls
you up."
Everybody needs it
stored for emergency in a
well-developed, well-preserved,
well - nourished
body and brain.
Grape-Nuts food stands
preeminent as a builder of
this kind of energy. It is
made of the entire Inutri
ment of whole wheat and
barley, two of the richest
sources of food strength.
Grape-Nut also includes
the vital mineral elements of
the grain, so much emphasized
in these days of investigation
of real food values.
Crisp, ready to eat, easy to
digest, wonderfully nourishing
and delicious.
"There's a Reason"
ior Grape-Nuts
ton TM Jjf
t