BY AND BY.
There's a little mischief-maker
That is stealing half our bliss,
Bketching pictures of a dreamland,
Which are never seen in tuis;
Daching from our lips the pleasure
Of the present while we sigh—
You may know this mischief-maker,
For his name is, ‘* By and By.”
He is sitting by our hearthstones,
With his sly, bewitching glance,
Whispering of the coming morrow,
As the social hours advance:
Loitering mid our calm reflections,
Hiding form: of beauty nigh—
He's a smooth deceitful fellow,
Tris enchanter, ‘‘ By and By.”
When the calls of du‘y haunt us,
And the present seems to be
All of time that ever mortals
Snatch from long eternity;
Then a fairy hand seems painting
Pictures on a distant sky—
For a cunning little artist
Is this fairy, ‘* By and By.”
By and By, the wind is singing;
By and By, the heart replies;
But the phantom just bafore us,
Ere we grasp it, ever flies.
List not to the idle charmer,
Scorn the very specious lie;
This deesiver ‘ By and By
New Orleans Picayune.
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Felix Livingstone was not in a good
temper.
He had a fortnight’s leave, which
duty required him to spend with his
maiden aunt in ame country, while in-
clination strongly urged him to go up
to town in order to see the girl he
loved. But on this occasion duty had
to be considered, for Miss Drury, the
aunt in question, was a wealthy old
lady, and he was practically depen-
dent upon her.
All things considered, however, Fate
had not been so very unkind to Felix.
Left an orphan at an early age, he
had been adopted by his mother’s el-
der sister, who had done her duty
nohly by him. Now at the age of twen-
ty-five he found himself a subaltern
in one of the line regiments, with a
handsome allowance from his aunt,
prospect of becoming her
heir. But—there is always a ‘‘but” in
most people's lives—although Miss
Drury had been more than liberal to
her nephew and forebore to exercise
any but a very nominal restraint over
his actions, yet she had given him to
understand that she meant to exert
her authority in one important mat-
ter, namely, the question of his mar-
riage.
In due course of time she intended
Felix to become master of Wood-
lands, her beautiful old house, and
since his wife would occupy her place
as mistress, Miss Drury meant to lim-
it, if not direct, her nephew’s choice
of a bride.
She did not approve of the modern
woman, the up-to-date girl, with ner
cigarette and her slang, her talk of
golf and bridge, her contempt for
needlework, and all things pertaining
to domesticity. Felix could see in ais
mind's eye the wife his aunt destined
for him—a meek and modest young
woman of ultra-refined speech and &b-
pearance, and always with a piece of
fancy work between her fingers—and
he shuddered at the picture. Then he
thought, with a sudden tightening of
his heart, of Kitty Bellairs, as he had
seen her last summer at the house
of a brother officer—beautiful, mis-
chievous, high-spirited, a keen tennis
player, a brilliant horsewoman, full
of life and laughter. She had charmed
the young man’s heart out of him, and
though Felix tried desperatedly hard
to banish her from his memory, ab-
gence, in this case, had certainly
made the heart grow fonder.
“] daren’'t tell Aunt Minnie about
Kitty,” thought the young man discon-
polately. “Of course if she knew her
ns I do she couldn’t help but love ‘her
although she isn’t quite her
style, but I don’t see how ever they
are to meet, since my little darling
knows no one in this neighborhood,
and Aunt Min never will come up io
town.”
In the depths of his heart Felix was
genuinely fond of the old lady, who
had so generously mothered him all
his life, and he was therefore rather
disconcerted to find when he reached
Woodlands that Miss Drury was very
much perturbed and upset about
something. Generally his aunt was a
very dainty looking little old lady, ex-
quisitely dressed, and the perfection
of a hostess. But on this particular
afternoon she greeted her nephew in
an absentminded fashion, her cap
slightly awry, her cheeks flushed, and
her beautiful old hands trembling.
“Why, Aunt Minnie,” said the
young man anxiously, “whatever is
the matter?”
“Oh, my dear Felix,” replied the
old lady, looking into his handsome
face with troubled blue eyes, “I have
had such a dreadful upset. “Two of the
housemaids are down with influenza,
and now Parkins, who is quite invalu-
able, has declared she can hold up no
longer, and has gone to bed sericusly
ill, I fear.”
Felix gave a whistle of dismay. Par-
kins was cook-housekeeper at Wood-
lands, and the pivot upon which thes
rest of the household turned. She was
an exceptionally good cook, and Le
knew that his aunt prided herself that
her dinners were unsurpassed in the
neighborhood.
“1 would not have minded had we
been alone,” continued Miss Dru:
and every
J
stairs tc inspect the new
a cook that you can recommend by
any chance, do you, Felix?” she asked,
desperately.
This wistful appeal touched the
voung man’s heart. As a rule, a sub-
altern home on leave is not the per-
son one would naturally apply to for a
cook, but Miss Drury was at her wits’
end. Felix knitted his brows and
thought hard for a minute, at the end
of which time a brilliant inspirat ion
came to him. :
“Look here, Aunt Minnie,” he. ex-
claimed suddenly, “don’t you worry
any more. I'll go straight up to town
first thing tomorrow, and I'll find you
a cook somehow, and bring her back
with me in the afternoon.
Miss Drury looked at her nephew
with tears in her eyes. “Felix,” she
said solemnly, “if you get me out of
this difliculty you may ask me for any-
thing in the world.”
Felix was as good as his word. He
departed for town directly after break-
fast next morning, smiling good-hu-
moredly at the chaff of his fellow- |
guests, and reappeared triumphant in
the afteroon proudly escorting the
new cook.
“I've brought her,
announced, rushing excitedly into Miss
Drury’s boudoir. “She was at the
Rawson’s last summer, and an uncom-
monly good cook she is. Blair is her
name, it’s a great piece of luck that
she was disengaged, you know.”
Miss Drury went hurriedly down-
arrival and
the arrangements
Aunt Min,” he
to explain to her
for the evening's dinner.
“1 was a little taken aback at first,”
she said latter on to Ler nephew.
“Blair locks so young and so pretty,
and so—er—refined, but she seems
very capable and fully qualified to |
send up an excellent dinner.”
“Yes,” replied Felix, eagerly, “she
has had a course of cocking lessons |
at South Kensington, I believe she is
ro end of a swell at it.”
“Really, my dear boy,” said Miss |
Drury, looking affectionately at her |
nephew. “I am most touched by the
interest you have shown in this domes-
tie difficulty and the trouble you have
taken. If only Blair does not falsify
our expectations I shall owe you a
debt of gratitude.”
The dinner proved an immense suc-
cesg, and even Miss Drury had to con-
fess that Parkins could not have done |
better. As ® for Sir Gregory, he
chuckled with delight and went stead-
ily through the menu from beginning
to end.
“Really, my dear Miss Drury,” he |!
said when at length he was obliged to |
desist, “that cook of yours has sur-
passed herself. I don’t know when I |
have eaten a better dinner; that souf-
fle was simply a work of art.”
Only one contretemps marred the
harmeny of the evening, and’fortun-
ately Miss Drury did not witness this
little incident, as it occurred when the |
ladies had retired to the drawing- |
room.
Felix was doing the honors of his
aunt's table when the sound of a scuf-
fle arrested his attention, and with a
hasty excuse to his guests he left the
room and rushed into the passage,
where he found an ardent young foot-
man trymg vainly to embrace a very
angry but bewitchingly pretty young
woman in a white cap and apron. |
“You impudent wretch!” she was
saying, “how dare you try and Kiss
me? Mr. Livingstone, help!”
Felix turned on the man in a per-
fect fury and dragged him away. .
“John,” he said, locking as if he
could have killed him with pleasure,
one that lady alone at once and
‘lear out. Here are your wages. Go!
The man gazed at him, dumb with
surprise.
“I beg your pardon, Mr. Felix,” he
stammered at length, “I meant no
‘arm. I often used to kiss Mrs. Par-
kins, I didn’t know as ’ow Miss Blair
| would mind.”
The cook’s angry face relaxed, and
she burst into a peal of laughter, in
which, after some hesitation, Felix
joined.
“Never mind, John,” she said, “I'll
forgive you this once, only don’t. try
it again. I dare say Mr. Felix will al-
“put the house is full of people, and
1 have a large dinner party tomor-
Tow.”
“What a catastrophe,”
nephew, sympathetically, who
how vexed was Miss Dr
mind when any heus
went wrong. “Can’t you
from the village to help?”
exclaimed her
knew
held aff:
get a weman
{
“Of course 1 can, but you don't | Farkins’s illness lasted a weekgand
know what thece village women ave | throughout that time Blair continued
like, my dear Felix; dirty incompe- the palates of the i ates of
‘tent creatures, and a incapable of | yodlands. All the same, Miss Drury
sending up a dinner as are. No, | was rather relieved when the last day
I must just leave Susan, the kitchen- | cf the tortura caok's s stay came,
maid, to do her best; but I know 1 | fcr try as she would ito disbelieve the
shall be disgraced tomorrow, and I’ evidence of her senses, there was no
do mot mind se much, if my gues: fact that Felix was al-
doa’t have the best. of everyth about. the bitchen on
And to make matters worse, that | or another. That her |
greedy old Sir Gr egory is coming, ond so far forget what was
Te always says he never dines so we 1f #nd to her, as 10
anywhere as here. Yon don’t know of a mild, flirtation with a
ury’s orderly |
| low you to stay if you behave your-
| self.”
Felix nodded impatiently, and the
| man fled to the lower regions, but it
was some minutes before “Miss Blair”
her place at the servants’ hall
| supper locking rather flushed, or be-
| fore Felix rejoined the men in the din-
ing-room.
took
Siberia have swept bare a burial
grcund of remarkable interest, con-
taining many skeletons in curious
| chain armor, and with iron battle
| axes and sword hilts of bronze, which
dresses tried on in court because “he
| make it fit when it did not do so.”
| which
| However that may have been, London
amazingly few and feeble.
the subject?
ve |
servant, Miss Drury would not allow
for a moment. Her horror can thera-
fore be better imagined than describ-
ed when, on descending to the kitchen
the last afternoon for the purpose of
paying Blair her wages, she saw on
opening the door, a pretty, white-
capped head reposing on her nephew’s
shoulder, while his arm was tenderly
clasping an aproned waist.
“Kitty, darling,” she heard him say
tenderly, “I couldn’t Jet you go away
without telling you I loved you. I
know I ought not to have done so, for
goodness only knows when I shall be
able to marry you.”
“Do you think Miss Drury will be
very angry?’ asked the girl.
Miss Drury coughed, and at the omi-
nous sound the guilty couple started
apart and looked with dismay at the
intruder.
The old lady’s face had turned very
white, and Felix, cut to the quick by
her piteous expression, crossed the
room hastily and took her hand. :
“Don’t look so shocked, Aunt Min-
nie,” he said; “this is not a cook real-
ly; it is the lady I love—Miss Kitty ,
Bellairs, I met her at the Rawson’s
jast summer and fell in love with her
and I knew she could cook beautifully,
£0 when you were in such a fix I
asked her to come and help. We—we,
uiought, perhaps, you might take a
fancy to her and ask her to stop.”
“Are you Archie Bellairs’s daugh-
ter?” asked Miss Drury, in astonish-
ment, ;
“Yes,” said the girl gently, “he is
dead, you know, and I am an orphan
and very -poor—but I love Felix.”
The old lady’s eyes grew very wist-
ful and tender as she remembered
the far-off days of her youth when pov-
erty had stcod between her and the
one whom she loved—Archie Bellairs.
She took the girls hand and smil-
vy put it into that of her nephew.
So do I, my dear,” she said, “and I
am sure you will make him an excel-
lent wife. I shall be exceedingly glad
to offer the temporary substitute a
permanent place in my household.”—
New York News.
GUAINT AND CURIOUS.
There is one United States mail car-
rier who is paid $35,000 a year by Un-
cle Sam. He carries mail between
Eagle and Valdery, Alaska, 414 miles,
and, although, his experiences are
hair-raising, he thinks well enough of
his job to renew the contract.
Flocds in the Amur river in East
are supposed to be the remains of an
ancient Tartar horde.
The working of coal in China dates
frecm a very ancient period. The ear-
liest notice is by the celebrated trav-
eler, Marco Polo, toward the close of
the thirteenth century. The laborious
researches of Baron von Richthofen
leave no doubt that there are large de-
posits of coal. These vast resources
are not utilized by the Chinese, ow-
ing to their unskillfulness in mining
and to the absence of roads.
A London justice has just made an
important decision regarding dress-
makers’ disputes. He will not have
had long since come to the conclusion
that with ordinary dresses any lady
could wear a dress to make it look as
if it did not fit,” and he was also per-
fectly satisfied that ‘“‘any milliner or
dressmaker could pull it about and
Among the antique tribes of prime-
val Canaan and Phoenicia the mythol-
ogy of the lower regions named Beel-
zebub as the patron demon of the {y,
has been so grievous a pest
from r imitive times to the present.
Was there ever a protective fiend for
the fiea in any ancient mythology?
the world’s capital, has been anathe-
matizing countless hosts of fleas in re-
cent weeks, while the annoying insects
of Beelzebub have been unusually and
Odd, isn’t
it? The wicked flea—but why pursue
“Odd resemblances to various ob-
jects, which can only be regarded as
accidental coincidences, are presented
by a number of fungi,” says Rev. A.
S. Wilson, in Knowledge. “There is
| the Jew’s ear fungus, which grows on
| stumps of the elder, and is so named
(rom its unmistakable likeness to a
human ear. The Geasters are curious-
ly like starfish; Aseroe has an extraor-
dinary resemblance both in form and
ccler to a set-anemone; equally re-
markable is the likeness to a bird’s
rest seen in species of Crucibulum,
Cyathus, and Nidularia. The most of
these are too small to impose on one,
tlie resemblance is singularly exact,
and a large specimen might almost
pass for the nest of some small bird;
the eggs being admirably represented
by the little oval fruits of the fungus.
Even in such cases we must not too
rashly conclude that the resemblance
confers no advantage. The existence
of attractive characters in,so many
fungi points to the conclusion that the
same principles are in operation
themy as among fibwering
rerous facts indicaie a
in tu gi to ne a guise
ich helps. cither to protect the plant
to promote the fertilization, germi-
nation, or eon of its spores. If,
|as some mycologists believe, spores
benefit through being, swallowed by
al } is easy how
a’ fungus might by being mis-
taken even for a ‘s nest containing
gs.’
| When a fellow dles counterfeit
| money it makes
I
feel “queer.”
SERMON FOR SUNDAY
AN ELOQUENT DISCOURSE ENTITLED
{A CHANGED NAME.”
The Rev. Dr. J. Wilbur Chapman Draws
Some Comforting Lessons From the
Story of tlre Angel and Jacob—Every
Act Shapes Our Character and Name,
New York CIty. —The following ser-
mon, entitled “A Changed Name,” has
been furnished for publication by the dis-
tinguished and eloquent evangelist, the
ev. Dr. J. Wilbur Chapman. It was
reached from the text: “And he said unto
im, What is thy name? And he said
Jacob.” Genesis 32: 27.
This is an angel's question to a man
from whose embrace he was trying in
every possible manner to break away.
Locked together after the manner of an-
cient wrestlers they -hend first this way
and then’that, and the angel cries, “Let
me go, for the day breaketh.” .Jacob re-
sponds, “I will not let thee go except thou
bless me,” and .then the words of the text
were spoken. “And he said unto him,
What is thy name? And he said Jacob.”
Jacob might have answered the question
in different ways at different times.. He
mj, ht well have said at one time, my name
Jacob, e had deceived his father
and Ii a Sain brother, but he might
have said at another time, my name is Re-
vealer, for he has given us a vision of the
open heaven. In his dream we have heard
the voice of God. He might have said on
still another occasion, my name is Teacher,
for under his tuition we have made a pil-
grimage into the deep things of God, and
he could truly have said as he came to the
end of his career, my name is Israel, for
as a prince he had power with God and
with men had prevailed. You will notice
the divine order, power with God first and
with men afterward. Oh that we might
soon learn that the way to influence earth
is by the way of heaven. It is a singular
question in the text, for in the olden days
a name was given not merely to gratify the
passing whim of the parents, nor for the
sake of euphony, but because of charac-
ter; a man’s character was his name and
his name was his character. A changed
name indicates a changed character. Are
in the Old Testament is changed t bra-
nam as he steps into closer fellow 32; with
God Saul, of Tarsus, became Paul, the
apostis: after the heavenly vision. Thou
shalt cail His name Jesus because He shall
save His people from their sins, and He is
Tmmanuel, which signifies God with us. 1t
is a most singular (question, “what is thy
name?” in the sicht of God. e certainly
knows what it is. It is said that our
names are written on the palms of His
hands; that they are also written in the
Lamb’s Book cof Life, but what name?
Hardly the name given to you by your
mother, but rather the name that you
have made for yoursecif under the direction
of God, by your patience, by your meek-
ness, your brotherly kindness. It is a sol-
emn thought that every act as well as
every word in shaping the character and
the name by which we shall be known
throughout eternity.
This story of the change of Jacob’s name
is interesting. I do not forget that he
lived 1800 years before Christ, but still it
is interesting for the reason "that human
nature has always been the same. Inter-
esting, too, because he was a typical Jew.
His life was the life of Israel in epitome;
that people found in every country and be-
longing to none; that people which have
supplied to us the liveliest religious litera-
ture and are themselves a by-word, which
have given to us the liveliest ideals in life
and are themselves an object of ridicule;
that people which have supplied the
world’s greatest characters, for Paul was a
Jew and Jesus was a Jew. If vou under-
stand Jacob you will understand the Jew
always, but while he began as a supplanter
his character was purified at the last. The
furnace was heated seven times hotter than
it was wont to be heated, but he comes
purified. He is very much like ourselves,
too, and for that reason is interesting.
Abraham was a hero, Moses a great leader
of men, Elijah was a "prophet, David was a
king. All of these men discourage us with
their greatness, but Jacob was a plain
man dwelling in tents. We find our like-
ness in Peter in the New Testament, and
in this man Jacob in the Old Testament.
His feelings appeal to us, for whether we
will acknowledee it or not his sins are in
us in germ whether we have permitted
them to develon or not; his aspirations ap-
peal to us. Where is there the man who
has not had his Bethel, giving him views of
heaven sad permitting him to hear the
voice of His sorrows appeal to us;
in his Nene away from Jabbok’s ford. in
his sorrow at the lonely grave where ‘his
beloved Rachel was buried, and in his
agony over his lost .Joseph many of us have
the deepest sympathy because we ourselves
have suffered, but it is a great comfort at
the end to see him coming forth more
than conqueror, which ieads me to say
that there is hope for every one.
“What is thy name, sand he said Jacob.”
Look at him by his father’s side as he de-
ceives the old man in his blindness, telling
him that he is Esau when he is Jacob, and
the old father saying to him the voice is
the voice of Esau, but the hands do not
belong to him. How he must have trem-
led. I can sce his face get white and hear
his heart beat quickly, What if God
should strike him dead as he stands in the
presence of the old patriarch? In this
art of his history I learn that one sin
eads to another. We cannot commit a
single sin and stop with that.
Me. Spurgeon “used to tell of the king
who commanded his subject to make a
chain of three links, and then told him to
make -it longer and still longer, and with
the chain bound him and cast him into
rison. How like unto Satan that is.
or aces and vice go with linked hands. No-
tice in Paul’s Epistle to the Galatians con-
cerning the works of the flesh, Galatians
5: 19-21, “Now the works of the flesh are
manifest, Ww hich are these: Adultery, for-
nication, uncleanness, lasciviousness, idol-
atry, witheraft hatred, variance, emula-
tions, wrath, St seditions, heresies, en-
vyings, murders, ‘drunkenness, revelings
and such like, of the which I tell you be-
fore, as I have a Iso told you in time past,
that they w hich do such things shall not
inherit the kingdom of God.” And also
notice his description of the fruit of the
spirit, Galatians 5: 22-23, “But the fruit of
the Spirit is love, joy, peace, long suffer-
ing, gentieness, goodness, faith, meekness,
temperance; against such there is no law.’
Yet this man who deceived his father and
defrauded his brother became a prince.
What is thy name? I put the question to
you, and if you answer correctly some
would. say, “My name is impatience, or
mine is a or mine is selfishness,
or mine is pride, for these are the domin-
ant factors in our character. I bid you
take hope this morning because your name
may be changed. 3
‘What is thy name? and he might have
said Revealer. I can see him as he hurries
away trom his old home when his mother
told him of the just anger of Esau, and I
Paliole him fleeing to the north. The night
comes quickly upon him, and he lands
upon a certain piace and tarries there all
nicht, and this ple c is Bethel. It is bleak
and barren. His only pillow is the stones
at him, and as he falls upon the ground
= sleeps and as he sleeps he dreams, and
in this dream he beholds the ladder which
leads me to say that carth has always
been linked to heavy en, not with a golden
chain as the e pr , not w ith the Nn
o
bf grav io 1
cal these eeriieln hot
these heaven united in Him who became
incarnate. 1900 years ago.
thing to me ahout this ladder is that it |
reaches down just where we are. It may
be we are in poverty, possibly in suffering
tist de-
atom re tall’ of |
|
|
|
|
The interestine
|
them away and then wait until the de-
scending angels bring heaven’s blessing
upon you. You will notice that when he
was asleép that he had his Tevelation of
heaven. is eyes were closed, his fever
had cooled, his excitement had subsided.
In other words he lost himself and then he
beheld heaven. When we lose ourselves
this weary, selfish, busy, self-life of ours,
we shall see Him.
he lark never sings when it is on the
ground. The moment it leaves the ground
it bursts into song, but just the instant
that it folds its wings it begins to drop to
the earth. So let us mount up this morn-
ing, and as we mount let us rejoice that
our names, which in the olden time stood
for sufferings and sin may stand for power.
III.
What is thy name? and he might well
have said Teacher, for he teaches what
discipline really is, and the story of how
this man was changed from Jacob to Israel
is helpful to us all. It was real spiritual
education, “but education means to draw
out, and you might draw out- from some- -
thing which has been implanted, and that
something must be the divine nature. Dis-
cipline for the man who is not a Christian
is a failure. You will remember when Jacob
was at Haran he began to be discon-
tented with his lot, and the craftiness of
his nature was constantly growing,
God sent him away from the place. He
had everything a man could want, but he
must become a wanderer if he would go
on to the Israel nature. We doubtless all
f us have learned that that which is loss
or us has been gain for Christ, and suf-
fering is a good thing, but it is comforting
to know that the hand that stirs the nest
is the hand of Christ and the hand that
leads out is the one that is pierced by the
nails, while the one that goes before us is
the good Shepherd Himself. He will not
lead us too far nor suffer us to be tempted
above that we are able to bear. The love
of God often means discipline. People or-
dinarily have low thoughts of love; they
only count that love which caresses and
sooths and makes of itself a shield that no
rough wind may blow upon us. They have
no notion of a love that can say no, a love
that can use the rod and the scourge and
esl] the object of its power to pass through
the fire, and it is interesting to hear the
Seripture declare concerning God and
Jacob, “Thou are Jacob whom 1 have
loved,” yet his life was one long strnggle
filled “with constant disappointment. How-
ever, it is true that every trial and every
disappointment was a step nearer his
princely nature. I myself would take
every trial he had and every disappoint-
ment he met, would endure every heart
ache if only I might become a prince hav-
ing power with God and with men.
Tv.
‘We are nearing the time when his name
is to be changed. Behind him is Laban,
before him Esau, for he is coming nearer
to him constantly, and he is afraid. Above
him 1s God. He has come to Jabbok’s
ford, the loneliest place in the Holy Land.
One could not easily remain there the night
throuzh. He has reached the loneliest
hour of the night; across the Jabbok is his
property, his children, his beloved Rachel,
and Jacob was left alone. Ar ound him the
rofound silence of the desert place, beside
im the murmur of the brook as jt hurries
on to the sea, above him the heavens
studded with stars. This is not an illus-
tration of Jacob’s earnestness in prayer,
but rather the earnestness of the angel of
the Lord, who would take from Jacob that
which is between him and power.
Notice first, how Jacob holds on to the
angel. It is a marvelous thing how long a
man can hold out against God. Some of us
bave been doing it for years.
Notice, second, that the angel touched
the hollow of his "thigh. Whatever enables
a soul to hold out against God He will
touch. It may be pride, wealth, affection,
it may be something natural, as a sinew
and as small ag a sinew, but He will touch
it. I can see Jacob struggle in the angel’s
embrace, and then I behold him coming
away with a new name; he is Israel, the
prince. The way to princeliness is the way
of sure surrender. We must yield ourselves
to God for power afterward. It is said he
called the place Peniel, for said he,
have seen God face to face,” and as he
crossed over Jabbok the sun rose. Doubt-
Jess he felt as if he had never seen it rise
before.
My dear friend, Mr. S. H. Hadley, the
morning after his ‘conversion said as he
opened his eyes and looked out of the win-
dow, “Why, is this heaven? I have never
seen the sun shine like this, and are those
the trees of life? for I have never seen
trees like these,” and vet they were the
same trees and it was the same sun that
was shining yesterday, but he” was lookin
with the power of a new vision. Oh, ma;
God help us to come to the same expe-
rience to-day. ' v
And Jacob went down and met Esau, and
then we are told he went over to She-
chem. Somebody has said that doubtless
his wiie might have said to him, “It is far
better for us to live in the city rether than
the plain; it will be batter for onr chil-
dren. they will become wore cultured,”
and they went to Sh2chem only to malke
the greatest shipwreck of their home, and
they turned away from it after a, while
with broken hearts, and Ged said io him,
“Arise, and go up to Bethel and dwell
there.” Christians suffer spiritual declina-
tion for very many reasons, but in this ex-
“pression to-day I have the secret of a re-
newed consecration. It is necessary in
these days if Christians are to be as they
would like to be for them to pray as they
used to pray, read the Bible as they used
to read it, yield themselves to God as they
did in forme r times and the old joy will
come back with increasing force. If we are
to have times of blessing in the days to
come the individual who is the leader of a
home must go back to Bethel and live in
his home as he used to live, and the church
must 2 back to Bethel and be filled with
the Spirit of God as she was in other
davs. But the end has come at last, the
scaffolding is taken down from about, this
wonderful character, life has been a long
struggle with him, the last word is spoken,
the last command is given, the Jacob look
is leaving his face, the Israel nature has
gained control. He was a prince indeed.
A Discovery Worth Making.
A prisoner in dhe of our State peniten-
tiaries writes that he “thoroughly compre-
hends the Snanens of his unkind condi-
tion.” He has learned to trust “the fight
against inhospitable surroundings” to be
the means of developing in him power to
resist the adversities which he is likely to
encounter after he is released. How for-
tunate would the world be if all men
could learn to see the kindness in unkind-
ness. Not only would the rigor of the law
then always work out its purposed object
of reclamation and restoration, as it seems
to be doing in this case, but under the infi-
nitely juster government of God sinners
would always turn back to Him from His
beneficent punishments. Yea, even Chris-
tians would forbear to murmur at afflic-
acter “their Tord od to
them by His loving disci-
ago Interior.
1 ality “of Phin
gtben in
pline.—Chi
nergy is Eternal.
who dares to say that when
ched there is not as much
oul wrapped in its weary
s in the infant full of lat-
know not where the in-
from, nor where the
7 goes to, by ut if nature
Who is ti
old age is
laid by i
body &s there w
er nt, power? We |
s forces comc
a man’s ene
teaches us anything it te ches ns that
es such as these are eternal in the same
e that matter is eternal and space end-
—Hrank Poles,
The Needed Pe aide,
Christ is the needed guide through the
devious paths and temptations of this life.
tle ic & king in the purest and best sense,
i to whom we can wiEh gladness yield our-
perhaps in despair, but the ladder is just |
efore us. Bring your burdens to the foot
of it. and let the as scending angels bear
i
|
|
i
selves. He is the hope of glory for the
plain man, and he who pos es that hope
is the strong man.—Rev. M. IF. Johnson.
GEYSTONE STATE NEWS CONDENSED
PENSIONS GRANTED.
Messenger Boys Prohibited—Frozen
to Death—Struck Gas—Lehigh’s
Earnings—Lack $4,000.
Tne fcllowing pensions were grant-
ed during the past week: . Lebens B.
Hursh, Homestead, $8; John T. Par-
ker, Altoona; $12; Joseph M. Hubler,
Port Royal, 312; Jonathan Greely,
New Dorf, $10; Charles Schriner, Al-
legheny, $8; William Shade, Atkin-
son Mills, $10; Oliver M. ‘Irvin, Ju-
lien, $10; Samuel Q. Stoops, Kelly
Station, $8; John Shaffer, Pittsburg,
F12; Willlam Young, Indian Run, $12;
Charles B, Litzinger, Johnstown, $10;
Jonathan ‘Artman, Naw Kensington,
$8; Martha Wible, Maddensville, $8;
Isabella Rankin, Willets, $8; Andrew
J. French, Lewiston, $12; Peter
Beige, Venango, $14; Jacob Harsh-
barger, Indiana, $8; Henry A. Fress,
North East, $i7; Thcmas Hudson,
Rochester Mills, $10.
At the Ninth district United Mine
Workers headquarters at Shamokin,
lt was stated that 14,000 men and
boys of 51,000 former mine employes
are still idle. No meney has been rte-
ceived for relief since November 5.
A woman disguised as a man made
a bold attempt to rcb V. Haussman,
and aged dealer in musical instru-
ments, at his score in Erie. She
wore men’s clothing and while the
dealer was showing a violin attacked
bim with a revolver. Forced to flee
she drcpped the gun. A heel from a
woman’s shoe and other. signs pcint-
ed to her sex. FHaussman, who is 80
years old, was badly used up in the
struggle.
Attorney Darrow, counsel for the
United Mine Workers, announced
at Scranton that the coal road presi-
dents had promised to give the tab-
ulated statistics in regard to miners”
wages, etc. The big ccal mining com-
panies have had expert accountants
at work preparing those figures for
several weeks past.
Leesburg, a village of Cumberland
county, was ‘the scene of another
murder, George Seavers and David
Bailey got into an altercation and
words led to blows. Bailey struck
Seavers with a pair of brass knuck-
les, breaking his neck, from which
he died in 15 ininutes. Bailey was
committed to jail.
The statement of the Lehigh Val-
ley Railroad Company at Philadel
phia for October, 1302, shows earn-
ings and income from all sources of
$2,001,943, a decrcase of $892,114,
conipared with October of last year;
expenses, $1,924,898, decrease $101,-
(39; net earnings, $77,045, decrease,
£790, 475,
In the trial of David Miller at
Bellefonte, for the shooting of his
son-in-law, Robert Reach, at Osceola,
last July. The jury after being out
two hours and 45 minutes returned
a verdict of murder in the skecond
degree. Reach was shot by Miller
while acting as peacemaker.
Mrs. Mary Southward and Charles
Orris, of near Freeport, - Armstrong
county, have been committed to jail
at Kittanning, the former chaypged
with bigamy, and the latter with mis-
demeanor in marrying the former
when he knew she was the wife of
ancther man. . /
The Western Union “messenger
boys have been excluded from the
Pennsylvlania Railibad Company’s
property at Altocna. and they are no
longer permitted to go into trains
after messages. The Postal boys
have replaced the Westérn = Union
boys.
The safe in the Hotel Francis, at
Finleyville, was blown open by four
men, and several Twelics, highly
prized by the proprietor, were taken,
but no money was found. The men
entered the hotel through
window which they cut open.
Miss Florence Wright, a school
teacher, ig confined at the home of
her father, Randolph Wright," near
Claysville, with smallpox. Miss
Wright taught at Vesta, in the east-
ern part of the country. and was
taken ill in the school room.
At a meeting of the town council
of Jeannette the committee on secur-
ing the $20,000 bonus for the Penn-
gylvania Rubber Company reported
that they were yet $4,000 behind in
the subscription. :
Thieves effected an entrance into
the residence of Joseph S. Cross at
Rochester, securing $50 in cash and
a new gold watch. Dominic Gettonie,
of Freedom, was held up also and
robbed of $150. .
Unless the Presbyterians of Pitts-
burg and vicinity within the next few
days put up $4,000, the beautiful First
Presbyterian church building of Ford
ity, which cost $25,000, will be sold
by the sheriff.
Kobacker Bros., of Connellsville,
have bought the Hammer farm ad-
journing Greensburg, for $25,000. A
manufacturing plant will be located
on the tract and a new industrial
town started.
A dariny
at the new
robbery was committed
postoffice at New Brigh-
estimated at over $1,000 in stamps
ton. Postmaster Charles McDanel
and money was taken.
Louis M, Pott, ¢f Canonsburg has
been appointed to the position of su-
perintendent of the Rewland Tele-
graph Company, with headquarters
at Baltimore. 5
large fiag was presented to the
Grapeville scho hyiithe Jr. 0. U,
A.M. of nnette. ‘Prof. J. H,
Wentzel rec ced the flag.
The pupils of the pu
Westmortland county, contributed
toward the support of the county
hospital at Greensburg.
John Patterson, a well-known bar-
ber of Greensburg, was found frozen
to death at Pennine station, on the
Hempfield branch.
Private detective Leo Metzner, of
Trafford City, charged with
spiracy was committed to jail at
Greensburg.
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