than
es? I
ir Bro-
Ss your.
Ww. >
tosub-
ong to
VG!
Great
aloons,
“
batrons
rated
Fam
louses,
iting a
Pr
Son,
Pha-
SONS,
prices.
, ‘Bring in
ew. Don't
11 cost.
Thanking
y
ir!
re rooms,
Window
hing per-
made and
of
es
r known.
8 to make
2 list—the
y dollar's
5 red tick-
ze. Tick-
anity of a
(3. ;
bo. St.
and
1.
1 kinds of
Sea Foam”
) handle
ight in ear-
tore in
: Jersey soil.
my quarters after the fatigues of a hot
day, an orderly brought me the un-
. uproar. The men refused to obey ‘or:
ders, and open violence impended. The
delay.
; form, hastened over the ferry and soon
* reached the high board fence which en-
was locked,
' His musket leaned against a post.
~wullenly slouched up and down with
man, but I was bound and braced with
18 a soldier.
“through and marched quickly forward.
_ shouting, gesticulating,
_tressing sight for a true soldier.
. I approached the first group of about
"leaving them, pursued by taunts and
i njeers.
with a repulsive face; naturally pom-
pous in bearing, but now thoroughly
_ sympathy.
“and motionless before the men.
‘ manded.
- stazving.”
. you. Men, I'm ashamed of you. While
_ mur and revolt. Out upon such soldiers!
‘shouted the clear voice of the blue.
“1 80 I went through that camp, speak-
of
Tell me where your true love lies.”
' Long as moons shall shine above,
Time will play his tricks on Love.
Cupid, of his power reminded,
Showed old Time what he could do:
And, that though his eyes were blinded,
Yet his heart would guide him true.
Long as suns the heavens shall climb,
Love will foil the tricks of Time,
~—Robert Brown, Jr.
MARY'S SOLDIER.
WENTY-
eight or mine
: years ago, dur-
ing the latter part of
the war, I was sta-.
tioned in New York,
detailed as Inspector-
General to raise a bri-
gade. I had been
successful, and my
camp of instruction
contained fair ma-
terial, It was a few
miles distant on
Ong afternoon, while I wag resting in
pleasant tidings that my camp was in an
pay was in arrears through some red tape
The men were poor and their
families were suffering.
- I'dressed myself carefully in full un-
circled the encampment. From within
came a confused rumble like the portend
of a storm. Iapproached the wicket. It
I peered through the lat-
tice. There was the sentry, sure
enough; but with what a difference!
He
hands in pockets, in no wise heeding my
presence. I would like to have shot that
ielf-control. yoy
¢tAttention!” I commanded sharply.
The man stared, then straightened,
seized his musket, presented, and stood
“Open that gate!” :
He obeyed at once, and I passed
All over the field were knots of men,
fiercely ha-
ranguing. Here and there were a few
officers arguing and pleading in vain.
The majority, however, sat dejected
within their tents. It was a most dis-
200 frenzied men. A captain was just
He was an insignificant man,
cowed. Yet as he saw me he assumed a
certain uneasy bravado.
¢‘Captain Johnson, at your service,
sir,” he answered, as he saluted.
¢¢What does this mean?’ Iasked.
«They are ends incarnate, General,”
he exelaimed, as he glanced over his
shoulder. ‘They will murder us all
and ravage the town. Oh, what shall
you'do?”
¢¢ ghall form the men.”
“Impossible. Why, that’s just what
I've been trying; but—"
s¢Silence, sir.”
As T reached the mob I noticed one
face alone which expressed respect or
All others bore a look of
malevolence. A youcg soldier, well set
up and scrupulously nea, seemed to be
attempting to dissuade his comrades
from some mad project. He was a fine-
looking fellow, with a long, light mus.
tache and bright, blue eyes, from which,
‘as I say, I caught a flash of admiration.
I drew my sword and stood upright
¢¢ Attention, menl. Fall in!” I com-
There was a hesitation, a momentary
huddling together, and then they ar-
rayed themselves.
¢¢Present arms! Carry arms!
Parade rest!” 1 ordered,
they obeyed.
Behind me stood a knot of wondering
officers.
<tHow do you dare?’ I began. Then
arose a grow! from the ranks. ‘We want
our right. We'll get them, too. We
demand our pay. We won't stand such
treatment. Our wives, our children are
Order
and
stgilence!” I warned them. ¢‘Not
another word. If you have grievances,
if you have complaints, send them
through the proper channel and they
ghall be heard and allayed, I promise
your comrades are in the fleld facing
privation and danger and death for the
glory of that old flag which you have
only just sworn to defend, you, for a
trifling delay which the throes of our
Government should excuse, dare to mur-
Do you know what you risk? Do you
appreciate that I have but to step to that
‘telegraph and the regulars will surround
you and rake your camp with an enfilad-
ing fire? Do you long fo serve your
country at Dry Tortugas? Have a care,
or there you shall be sent, weighed with
the contempt of all loyal men. Officers,
to your posts! There will be a review
presently.”
“Three cheers for the, General!”
eyed recruit as I turned away, and
they were given with a will.
ing as I never had spoken. Inwardly
overwrought with excitement, but out-
wardly the cold, distant personification
discipline.
that brigade formed in a hollow square,
and from its centre I renewed my threats
d my promises. They were eifective.
by
Within two hours I had:
red to the men, and with it
As I left the parade I met Captain
Johnson. = :
“‘By-the-way, Captain” I asked, ‘who
is that bright-looking young soldier of
yours who seemed to be resisting the
madness of the men?” The Captain
scowled quite unnecessarily.
“That's Thomas Browne,” he an-
swered moodily. ‘He doesn’t amount to:
much.” ;
Iam certain youdon't, I reflected as I
returned to the city.
A month passed by. Discipline had
come a well-drilled brigade. The men
had received their arrears, and were
eager to wipe out disgrace and to achieve
renown in action. The order for their
advance was expected daily. I sat in my
quarters in this city, alone and idle, for
my duty had been fulfilled, and I was
about to report at Washington. The
door opened, and a tall, slender young
woman, neatly dressed, stood before
me. Her face was pallid; her large
black eyes shone intensely. ee
¢Oh, sir,” she exclaimed, ¢‘save my
soldier! He said that you might,” and
she sank in a chair by my side weeping
and moaning and wringing her fragile
hands 1n a manner most pitiable - to be-
hold. : ;
‘But, my dear madam,” I expostula-
ted sternly, ‘this won’t do at all. If you
wish my aid you must be calm and sen-
sible. Tell me who you are, who your
soldier is, and what you want.”
My severity succeeded as I intended it
should. She was a stout-hearted little
thing, and she gulped down her sobs,
and in a moment sat upright and tran-
quil. :
¢I beg your pardon,” she said gently,
and I felt like a brute. ‘My name is
Mary Graeme, and—and I'm engaged to
Thomas Browne. He's my soldier, you
know; and he’s in the camp over in New
Jersey.” :
‘Thomas Browne!” Oh! I remem-
bered. ¢‘Yes, my dear, I replied. A fine
looking young fellow, with bright, blue
eyes, I think.” :
+Oh, such bonny eyes, so tender, so
true! And they speak his nature, be-
lieve me. I know him so well; we were
little children together. He has been
placed under arrest, sir, and is to be
tried before the court-martial now in
session.” :
“For what offense?”
¢‘He was a sentry, sir, and was found
asleep on his post.”
Phew! Here was a pretty mess in-
deed for the young recruit.
«My dear child; I responded gravely,
this is a most serious matter. Asleep on
his port of duty in the face of the en-
emy! Why, it may cost him his life!
And at the very timo, too, when there
has been a revolt in the camp and the
court feels the necessity of a stern ex-
amnla 7 :
‘As 1 spoke the poor child wavered
like a rare pale lily in a storm. But she
remembered my warning, though her
eyes streamed and her hands strained in
their grasp. .
¢¢Oh, sir, but he isn’t guilty, the poor
boy. Think how tired he was. . Up the
whole night; ordered on duty again the
moment he was relieved. = It was in-
human. No wonder he dozed without
knowing it.”
sBuat—"
¢Oh, sir, I know what you would
say: It couldn’t be. But it was. The
Orderly Sergeant has always hated him.
Op. tke day before he had ordered Tom—
excuse me, sir, Thomas—when he was
off duty to clean the equipments of an-
other soldier, which Thomas refused to
do.” .
«He was perfectly right there.”
¢‘So Thomas says. Besides he was
expecting to see me, But that night
when he came off his post, oh, so tired,
the Sergeant ordered him right on again
to take the place of the soldier whose
arms he wouldn't clean.”
“If this is so, no court will punish
him for falling asleep.”
I'm so delighted. That's what Thom-
as said he knew you would say. But he
didn’t mean to-—oh, no, indeed. He's so
ashamed; when he has been so anxious
to distinguish himself for me.” Aud
here a blush deepened through poor
Mary's cheeks.
<i He shall have the chance, never fear.
But why didn’t you go to his Captain?
Does he know these facts?"
Again Mary blushed and far less tran-
siently. Her fingers picked her dress
uneasily. ;
¢sCaptain Johnson,” she faltered.
stHe doesn’t liké Tom; he—he—likes
me.”
+¢Oh ho.” Here was a little drama.
I recalled the Captain's repulsive face
and sullen ways, and I recognized the
viilain’s part.
¢«Besides,” she continued, ¢‘the Or-
derly is his brother-in-law.”
«And he tells a far different story, I
suspect.”
s¢Indeed, yes; there is no hope for
Thomas from either of them.”
tt Well, my dear, save your tears and
keep a stout heart, I like your
soldier, and I like you. I believe the
story and you shall have my aid. But
be cautious and secret. The court is
now in session, you say?” :
¢Ygs, sir; all this week. But Thom-
as’s case was only reached this afternoon
just before adjournment.”
+Then IT must act at once. Good-bye
now; you may rely on me.” And’ with
a God bless you, which it seems as if [
could feel even now, the girl withdrew.
Yet with a sudden inspiration I called
atter her, ‘*what is the name of the sol-
dier whose place Thomas took?"
“Joseph Bgant.” ; :
Here surely was a difficult situation.
The Sergeant hostile, the Captain vin-
dictive, what hcpe gleamed for Mary's
soldier? Yet I followed the inspiration.
The proof, if I only could get the proof!
It existed, unless cunning had destroyed
it. Again I arrayed\ myself in full fig.
Again 1 hastened over the ferry to the
camp.. I sought the Sergeant's tent and
I found him within and alone. ~ ¢Too
stupid to be provident,” was my mental
glance.
once”
done 1ts perfect work. The mob had be-| d
Sergeant, your : ;
1 coninaston, This pin saved |
d then handed it to me |
S——
ay The & retired spot. I turned
fate had favored ey
record for the night in question, and
among the reliefs I didn’t find the name
of Thomas Browne, but I did find that
of Joseph Brant.
Then I visited the Judge Advocate, a
friend of mine, a fine fellow, now a
Supreme Court Judge of this State.
*‘What sort of a man is Captain John-
son?” I asked.
My friend shrugged his broad shoul-
ers
*“Hum!” he replied. ‘With all there
is back of him he ought to get the single
star in six months.”
“Influence, hey?”
¢Great. But why do you ask?”
¢“You needn’t go any further, old fel-
low ; your scruples reveal more than they
conceal. But to change the subject. I
am going to put a hypothefieal case to
‘you, and I want you to tell me just how
you would act regarding it.” . And I de-
tailed the facts of Mary's soldier's
troubles, using, of course, assumed
names. r
The Judge Advocate deliberated. ¢‘A
difficult and delicate matter,” he said.
¢“The man is innocent, but he would be
condemned. The sentence would be
commuted on review; still his career
would be ruined. I think I should do
this: I should lay these inside facts coan-
fidentially before the President of the
court. Then, if he approved, at the next
session I should announce that the main
witness, the Officer of the Day, was ab-
sent—and he would be, too. And in
view of the stress of other business, and
of grave doubts of the defendant’s cul-
pability, I should ask that the case be
dismissed.”
¢‘You would surely do this?”
¢*Certainly. It would be the quickest
and most prudent way out of a nasty.
rush,”
¢Then listen, old fellow.” And I ex-
plained my parable to him. ‘‘And here's
the proof,” I said, in conclusion, and I
showed him the Sergeant's detail book.
¢The villains!” he exclaimed. “I'll
stick to my word, never fear. It’s ths
wisest course, too. At this present cri-_
sis the friends of that Captain must - not
be offended. His time may:come. But
that Sergeant should” be punished in
some way.”
¢‘Leave that to me. He shall lose his
chevrons, I promise you.”
“Very well. I'm off to see the Presi-
dent.” >
The next morning came, the court
convened. = Mary was present, anxious
yet hopeful, with her gaze fixed on the
erect, manly form of her soldier. = So,
too, were the Captain aud the Sergeant
in attendance, the former exultant, the
latter secretly worried. But I looked in
vain for the Officer of the Day. |
The Judge Advocate was faithful to
his rehearsal and letter-perfect in his
part. + ; ;
‘I do, therefore, suggest,” he said in
conclusion, ¢‘that this charge against
Private Thomas Browne be dismissed,”
¢+This seems a proper disposition,”
said the President. \¢‘I think so,” sdid
each officer, from the junior fo the
senior; and Thomas Browne left the
courtroom a free man, with the devote
Mary clinging to his arm. :
I caught Captain Johnson as he was
sneaking away with a white, scared face.
¢¢Captain,” I said, ¢‘I learned the truth
of this matter, and I am responsible for
this ending. You've had a lucky escape.
Now, matk my words. You will reduce
that Orderly Sergeant to the ranks forth-
with. He won't appeal to the Colonel,
nor will the Colonel question the act.”
* 41 will do so, sir,” he murmured, as
he hung his head and went to his
quarters. I never saw him again, but
after the war, at Washington, I met
Mary, a happy bride, with her soldier,
and on his broad shoulders shone the
insignia of a Major.—New York Times.
en no SS sentir.
The Chinese Cuisine.
¢¢Iu passing through Chinese to wns,”
said the Rev. A. T. Wright of Mil-
waukee to the writer, ‘‘the astonishingly
large number of cook-shops interests and
attracts the foreign passer-by. One's
curiosity is often aroused to know the
ingredients of the messes he sees being
concocted. These places are unpleasautly
pressed upon the pedestrian, for the front
is invariably open to the street, and in
order to tempt customers by the sight
his dishes over a charcoal fire in full
view, and sets samples of his. materials
aud a bill of fare out on a showboard
before him. Tables and stools are placed
in the rear, and here the hungry ma
banquet. iti
¢*The Frenchman is not the only one
who has his frogs’ legs aad snail soup,
for the Celestial, too, revels in these
{ dainties and many more stranger than
these. Snakes and eels alike know the
frying-pan, and when skinned and
dressed appear very much alike. Many
varieties of non-poisonous snakes are
used for food. 8ilksworm grubs are re-
garded as a choice morsel and are stewed
in lard and eaten as a relish, and a maul-
titude of other insects are deemed
edible. : :
¢¢It seems to be the general impression
that dogs and cats form staple articles
of diet. This is not true. They are
eaten to a greater or less extent by the
poorer classes only, and vary in popular.
ity according to the district.
The famous bird’s-nest soup is a very
rare delicacy, and can be afforded only
by the rich. It is served as a first course
at grand dinners usually. The nests are
built by a kind of swallow on high rocks
by the seashore, and the material is se
creted by glands inside the bird's bill.
A native recipe for making the soup
reads: Take as many nests as are neces-
sary, clean and pick out the feathers,
and boil in sufficient water to make
thin jelly. © Pour this over hard-boiled
pigeons’ eggs, and float on top shreds of
ham. Serve sweetened if desired.
‘The number of edibles in China it
legion, and their combinations are simply
distracting. The people have a regula
intuition for cooking, and every, man
square yard.
‘hs an orange ground crossed by broad
and smell of viands the cook prepares
1 | three or
—
HOUSEHOLD MATTERS,
ADD KEROSENE TO THE STARCH.
It does not seem’ to be generally
known that the addition of a little ker-
ssene oil to the raw starch ib which the
bosoms of shirts are starched the second
time will uce highly satisfactory re-
sults. e first starching should be
done in hot starch in the usual way.
Then to one shirt take a good half tea.
spoon of starch and dissolve it in as
little cold water as possible. Next fill
the earthen dish in which you dissolved
your starch not quite half full of cold
water, and add a teaspoonful of kero-
sene. Stir the oil well into the starch,
then dip your shirt bosom several times,
rubbing in the starch thoroughly with
the hands. After this fold the shirt
smoothly, roll it tight and let it remain
30 at least an hour before ironing.—
New York News.
A TIME-SAVING DEVICE.
It was once the fashion to put all rem-
nants of dresses and other wearing ap- |
parel, whether of cotton or wool, away
in a deep and annoying ' receptacle
known as the ¢‘piece-bag.” If a frock
was torn and must be quickly mended,
a plunge into the depths of this bag
brought up fifty little rolls besides the
one sought. A set of stout pasteboard
boxes containing ‘‘the pieces” of each
member of the family with the name and
contents written and gummed to the
top is the time-saving device used by
one systematic housewife that I know.
Cotton and wool pieces are kept in sep-
arate boxss. Feathers, flowers and hats
belonging to the different members ol
tke family are put away in the same
fashion. . Trunks containing bedding or
dresses not 1m use are also labelled with
their contepts.—New York Post.
COCOA MATTINGS.
Cocoa mattings, which are useful and
desirable for piazza mats and coverings
and for covering the corridors of coua-
try houses used only part of the year,
are a yard antl'a quarter in width, and
the best quality is sold for sixty cents a
Que of ‘the best patterns
brown stripes; another pattern has an
ecru ground with red stripes. = For the
sitting-room of such houses blue denim
is sometimes used as a border, or all
over the floor as a background for rugs.
Flax colored linen with a conventional
fleur-de-lis or other design makes a cool
and soft looking background for rugs.
Or it may be laid over heavy carpets as
a desirable change for summer, and is a
protection to the carpets as well. In a
family where there are many children
who dine at the family table a pair ol
crumbcloths made of this linen are a help
in keeping the dining room in nice con-
dition. A good quality of the linen,
which is two yards wide, is sold for fifty
cents per yard. A matting is shown
this summer that is made in imitation
hard wood floors, being like them in
color and design. The mattings are
jointless and of fine weave, some of them
having borders. They are a yard wide.
:—=St. Louis Republic.
THE TOMATO AND HOW TO COOK IT.
Scaloped Tomatoes—Butter a pudding
lish, put 1n a layer of sliced fresh to-
matoes or canned ones, sprinkle with salt
and bits of butter, then put in a layer ot
bread bread crumbs and till the dish with
alternate layers, moistening the crumbs
with a spoenfil of water unless the to-
matoes are very juicy; the last layer
should be crumbs; bake half an hour in
a quick oven, serve hot. A
Panned Tomatoes— Wipe half a dozen
large ripe tomatoes, cut -in two cross:
wise, set them in a baking tin, skin |’
down, in a moderate oven, cook slowly
so they will keep their form, When done,
sprinkle salt over them and place a small
piece of butter on top of each half. Lift
carefully on to a platter, serve in indi.
vidual dishes.
A German Dish of Tomatoes—Put two
tablespoonfuls of butter in the spider,
when hot cover the bottom of the spider
with small ripe tomatoes, brown them,
turn over, season with salt and dredge a
little flour over them, and add a. cup of
sweet cream, let them stew a few min-
utes, then serve.
Baked Tomatoes—Select large smooth
ones, wash and wipe. With' a sharp
knife cut a piece out of the centre at the
stem end and fill with sugar. Bake on
‘I an earthen plate in a quick oven until
done. ©
Tomato Stew-~If you wish to use
fresh tomatoes, peel, slice and cook in
granite iron until soft, strain through a
colander, put in a heaping tablespoon
ful of butter for each quart of tomatoe:
and one even tablespoonful of sugar, salt
to the taste, then thicken with tine soft
bread crumbs ten minutes before using.
Canned tomatoes stewed and straiped
make a nice stew.
Tomato Toast—Pour a quart of stewed
tomatoes through a colander, put them
in a stew pan, season with salt, one
spoon of sugarand two of butter, toast
thin slices of bread quickly and lay ona
hot platter and butter; when ready to
serve pour half a pint of sweet cream in
the tomates and stir for a moment, then
dip it on tothe toast and serve imme-
diately.
Fried Tomatoes—Peel and cut cross
wise in thick slices, sprinkle salt over
them, roll crazker crumbs until they are
as fine as meal, dip the slices of tomato
in beaten egg, then in cracker crumbs
and fry in two spoonsful of hot butter.
If you wish a sauce for them put a cup
of milk to scald and thicken with half a
spoon of flour mixed with a spoon of
cold butter.
Tomato Mayonnaise—Peel and cut ofl
a thin slice from the stem end of as
mang large tomatoes as you wish ta
serve: With a spoon dip out most of
the seeds, chop a peeled cucumber and
some water cress, season with salt, fill
the cavities of the tomatoes Prepare
on a large p
.the oppressed all over
SOLDIERS’ COLUMN
CAMP FIRE TALES.
How Lincoln Wrung the Truth from a
‘Witness. Lincoln’s Great Faith.
ORE of the in-
teresting stories
going the rounds
shows how Lin-
coln, by a single
question, decided
a case for his
client. It was
> long before he
was known to the
. country and while
\\jhe was practising
W 1) : 3
&“at the bar in Illi-
£ hnois. It appears
“that some kind of
—— vie
c jl =%- a religious meet-
$ ~~ @i=>'ing had been held
bp Sd ” in one of the
“r= Si neighboring vil-
“lages, and somebody outside threw a
live duck through the open window
into the church, to the consternation
of the more sedate and the merriment
of the more trifling of the congrega-
tion. It was a flagrant breach of the
law protecting religious meetings, snd
suspicion fell on two young men who
happened to be waiting on the same
girl. One of these saw an opportunity
in the incident and swore out a war-
rant against the other. Mr. Lincoln
had satisfied himself of the situation
and of the innocence of his client.
When the case was called for trial
Lincoln was present at the lawyer's
table, but apparently paying little at-
tention to it. When the jury was be-
ing impaneled he seemed obvious of
his relation to the case, but was hard
at work writing out papers in another
case. The opening speech was made
to the jury: and the enormity of the
offence duly exhibited, but Lincoln
was silent. One witness affer another
was called,:but still he went. quietly
on. with his writing and asked mo.
questions. Finally the prosecuting
witness was called and even this did
not disturb Lincoln, The witness
told his story cooly, camly and with
an assumption of candor, sometimes a
little reticent when his evidence was
against the defendant. At last his di-
rect examination was concluded, and
the prosecutor said, with an air of
triumph, “Mr. Lincoln, take the wit-
ness’’ A
‘Mr. Lincoln stopped at once, threw
his feet on the table, and, looking
steadfastly \at the witness, who had
braced himself for a long cross-exam-
ination, said solemnly.
“Young man, is it customary in your
village to get upon the witness-stand
and swear to a lie?’
Instantly there was a hubbub about
the bench. The witness staggered
and flushed in the face. The district
attorney objected. When quiet was
restored the question was repeated;
the witness choked and gasped, and
when the Judge calmly insisted that
he should answer it, he fainted. :
He afterwards confessed that he had
thrown the duck, and had trumped up
the charge against his rival. He lost
. his case; also his girl. ,
The above shows the clear insight
of Lincoln into human character. He
had before him a young man ‘unfa-
miliar with the surroundings of the
court-room, evidently a man with con:
science, and yet with guilt in his soul.
Taken off his guard by a sudden ques:
tion calculated to reach the very cen:
tre of his emotions. he was thrown into
utter confusion.
Another story of Lincoln, somewhat
different in character. In the secoud
day's fight at Gettysburg, General
Sickles lost his leg and was taken to
Washington. Lincoln called to see
him, and asked whether he had not
been greatly worried about the result
of the fight, the President responded:
“Oh, no, I thought it would be all
right” 4
“But what made you feel so confi
ent, Mr. President,” said General
Sickles.
“Oh, I had my reasons, but I don’t
care to mention them, for they would
verhaps be laughed at.”
He was pressed for an answer as to
his reasons, and replied:
“Well, I will tell you why I felt con-
fident we Should win at!-Gettysburg
Before the battle I retired alone to my
room in the White House and got
down on my knees and prayed to Al-
mighty God to give us victory. I said
to him that this was His war, and that
if he would stand by the Nation now
I would stand by him the rest of my
life. He gave us victory and I pro
pose to keep my pledge. I arose from
my knees with a feeling of deep and
gerene confidence, and had no doubt
of the result from that hour,
And it is not amiss to say that there
were many who shared this confidence
solely because they had faith that a
Providence which had permitted this
Republic to become a beacou-light to
the world
would not desert it when its future was
to be determined upon a field like that
of Gettysburg. While millions had
watched the course of the war and
noted the varying fortunes of the
Union Army, the three days trial dt
Gettysburg were marked by a sense ot
contentment that overspread the whole
North, a supreme confidence in vic-
tory that would be decisive, due to a
conviction that it was a day whose
fate was to be determined by the God
of Battles. . :
ETI SETI
A PECULIAR boycott is in progress at
Fargo, N. D. ‘The business men of the town
have boycotted the Northern Pacific Rail-
road becauss the company won't build a new
station and hotel there. They have issued
a circular to ali their business counsctions
asking them to ship their goods over other
nes, :
"719; ‘But when
- fers money that he may obtain this power to
ota on their way back to Jerusalem. They
SUNDAY SCHOOL,
“Phillip Preaching,” Acts viil., 5. 28s
Golden Text, Acts viii, 5, Com:
mentary- :
S—
8. “Then Philip went down to the city of
Samaria, and preached Christ unto them.”
By comparing verses 4, 12, *25 with this verse
ed in those days; the Word, the Gos
pel, Christ, the things concerning the king
dom; and if we com shapters 38 xX.
we that
ii.
86, 32, 43; , find
preaching included tance, forgiveness,
“Many taken wi
lame were Tiealed.”
unclean. spiry
sample of the miracles
through Philip, which constiained the peo=
ple to give heed to his words.
8. “And there was great joy in that city.
This is always the result of receiving Jesus.
(John i., be ed with
peace (Rom. xv., 18), and it is His pleasure
at we should be full of joy (John xv., 11s
xvi )
; ). . 41
9. “But there was a certain man called
Simon giving out that himself was some
great one.”” The adversary is always busts
prominence he gives himself. This is the
spirit of antichrist. See Dan. viii, 11, 25;
xi., 36; Luke iv., 6, 7. The spirit of Jesus
to abaso self and honor God (John viii,
: Xvil., 4). at
10. “To whom they all gave heed,
the least to the greatest, saying, This ma
the great power of God.” A great
is no proof that a is right, nor are
followers necessarily an evidence that a
is wrong. Consider Noah, Jeremiah
the Prophets, and think of Jesus
(John vi., 66). :
.11. “He had bewitched them with sor=
ceries.” So it has been, is and will be till
Jesus comes. Jesus speaks of signs A
teachers in the last dais that shall
(
] n'they believed
ing the things concerning the
od, and the name of Jesus
were baptized, both men and women.”
reception of the truth is the cure for
TL They not only heard, but
he truth, or rather th oe
ceived t ey
Jesus, who is the truth (Jobn xiv., 6; IJ
v., 11,12.) The entrance of the word giv
light (Ps. exix., 130.) . ; ta
13. “Then Simon himself believed
this was a real case of true conv or
not. We shall meet him again, but now ob-
gerve that he believed, was baptized and
continued. 5
14, 15. ‘*Peterand John prayed for them,
that they might receive the Holy Ghost.
Word having reached Jerusalem of the graay
work going on in Samaria, Peter and John
were sent to help, and inasmuch as they had
received the word, they give themselves to
prayer that they may now receive the Holy
pirit. 3 :
16. “For as yet He was ZIallen upon none
of them: only they were baptized in the
name of the Lord Jesus.” Having believed
and been baptized they were consequ
saved (Mark xvi.; 16; John i., 12;
24.) But we aresaved to id 1
unto God (I Thess. i., 9; 1I Cor. v., 15), and
for this life and service we need the special
gift of the Holy Spirit, which so few care
about. : 2
' 17. *‘Then laid they their hands on them,
and they received the Holy Ghost.” Soalso
at Ephesus Paul laid his hands on twelve |
men who had believed and they received the
Holy Ghost and prophesied (chapter xix., 6,
7. There is evidently a gift of the Spirit
for saved people for service of which we
hear comparatively little; and yet there isa
plain command to “Be filled with the Spirit”
(Eph. v., 18). See the way in Luke xi., 13.
18, 19. ‘‘Give me also this power, that on
whomsocever I lay hands he may receive the
Holy Ghost.” e now return to Simon, of
whom we read in verse 13 that he believed,
wag baptized and continued with Phil
wondering and beholding. And now he of-
confer the spirit. He does not seek power
to serve God in humility (xx, 10), but
rather seeks to be a great one and have
power to give. .
20. “Thy money ish with thes because
thou hast thought that the gift of God may
be purchased with money.” He did not
know Isaiah lv., 1, nor Luke xi, 13, and
yet he was like a great many even now who
think that by doing so much or giving 80
much they can obtain gifts from God. Many
members of churches seem not to understand
tho grace of God (Rom. iii., 4; Eph. i, 6,0).
21. “Thou hast neither part nor lot in
this matter, for thy heart is not right in the
light of God.” 1f he had no partin :
he was not saved: but if Peter meant thas
he had no part in this gift of the Holy
Spirit, he was just.in the.condition in which
mast of our church members are, and in
reference to serving God his heart was not
Fight. i
‘Repent therefors of this thy wicked-
ness; and pray God, if Jerbaps the thought
of thine “may ‘be forgiven thee.”
Praise for His forgiveness and me
and plenteous redemption (Ps. cxxx., 4, 7,
ciii.. 8). He also gives répentance (chapter
v., 81}. Notice that thoughts must be for-
given, for the thought of foolishness is sin
(Prov. xxiv., 9) J
23. ‘For I perceive that thou art inthe
all of bitterness and in the bond of in=
quity.” If he was truly saved it would seem
that he would have peace instead of bitter’
ness and rejoice in the blotting out of his
nig ties (Isa. xxxviii., 17, xliii., 25).
24. Tray ye the Lord for me that none
of these t £2 which ye have spoken come.
upon me.” This request of Simon's to ba
prayed for gives us some encouragement,
but the object of his request makes us
wonder if we shall meet him. He is nota
comfortable study, and alas! he has many
followers. It is himself from first to last. =
25. ‘“‘Preached the word of the Lord,
ched the Gospel.” Thus did Peter o
have no thought of themselves, butonly a
consuming desire to make Jesus known.
The is the mark of a true disciple.~—Lesson
olper. Shiny
a
THE most recent estimate of the capits
invested in tae electrical industries in th
United States is $700,000,000, and of thi
amount $350,000,000 represents the propor-
tion which electric lighting an
attained; §100,000,000 is oe
investment in electrical supplies, of which
the electric lighting and railway appliances
constitute a large proportion, :
THE official Teportu say that the French
wheat crop tor the year will be 110,000,000
hectolitres—that is, much bigger than the
average. As the average consumpt i
France is 128,000,000 hectolitres, 18 000
will have to be imported to meet the ;