THEY ARE NOT LOST.
The look of sympathy, the gentle word.
Spoken so low that only angels hoard;
The seoret aot of pure Belf-saeriUee,
Unseen by men, but marked by ungel.i' eyes-
Theao are not lost
The happy dreams that gladdened all our youth.
When dreams had loss of solf and moro of truth;
The childhood's faith, so tronquil and so sweot,
Which sat like Mary at tho Master's foot—
Theso are not lost
The kindly plan devised for others' good.
So seldom guessed, so little understood,
The qulot steadfast love that strovo to win
Some wanderer from tho ways of sin—
Theso aro not lost
Not lost O Lord I for In thy olty bright
Our eyes shall see the past by clearer light
And things long hidden from our gazo below
Thou wilt reveal;.and wo shall surely know
Those are not lost
—Richard Metcalf, in Christian at Work.
THE TRAMP'S REVENGE.
His Lifo Paid the Penalty of His
Crime.
tr ARMER LES
LIE sat smok
ing in his door-
way in the most
oo n ten ted
frame of mind
JLjA possi b1 e to a
man, for ho was
jEjTvwW at that moment
basking in tho
Q f prosperity.
V It gave him a
7 groat content,
but it was purely an animal content—
no chord of his higher nature was
touched. As far as tho eye could see
the hills and the flocks on the hills
were his. Tho excellent woman at
tending to his corporeal comfort within
the dwelling was his. The bright girl
sewing at an upper window and tho
handsomo boy galloping along the val
ley on his new pony were his children.
The great barn filled with harvested
grain was his. lie did not look up and
claim tho slc>, but all else about him
was of value as a part of his domain.
"Me and mine" was the refrain of his
song.
At that moment something camo
around the corner of the house that did
not belong to him, and it gave him a
shock—a very disagreeable thrill,
that was mostly disgust, and no qual
ity of fear in it. The something was a
tramp. The name is synonymous with
obloquy, and this specimen did not be
lio the name. lie shivered in the sun
light as if he had the ague. Ilis rags
stood out like splinters of distress, tell
ing of a long friction with time. Ilis
,limb 6 haditliat flaccid, relaxed motion
which is tpyical of the drunken vaga- i
bond. Ilis eyes were bloodshot. The
only rcdeemiug features were his voice,
which was musical and pathetic, and
his manner, which was thut of a mar
who hod not always tramped the th >r
ouglifares of the world.
"Sir," he said, touching the rim of a
despoiled hat, "will you be so kind ns ,
to give mo a bite to eat—l am very
hungry!"
One would suppose that sitting there
in the sunlight of his own happiness
Farmer Leslie, the properous man,
would have given a generous meal to
this off-scouring of humanity—but he ;
did nothing of the kind.
"lie off," he said, "or I'll set the deg
on you!"
"I will work—" began the tramp.
"Oh, you will? I don't need your
help. I have men to work for me, and
not such cattle as you."
Ah, it cut to the quick, as he intend
ed ii should. The tramp made a sav
age spring forward, and a look of vin
dictive rage crossed his features —then
ho stopped, swung around and walked
away.
"Cuttle!" lie flung the words out ;
with bitterness. "You're right, friend
only—cattle that are mode in God's im
age, and human!"
"So the fellow's had a schooling,"
was all the comment the farmer made,
lie did not see a humanitarian cpi
"CATTLK!"
sode that was transacted at his back
door when his good wife, who had over
heard the dialoguo, hauded out some
bread and meat to the tramp.
No, Farmer Leslie know nothing of
that. He was watching a speck far
down in the valley that was a whole
world to him, his boy galloping from
about farmhouse to farmhouse, where
his playfellows lived, showing them his
new possession, the pony his father hud
given him for a birthday present.
Farmer Leslie did have soft spots in
his heart, but as I have said, they were
for "me and mine." Ho gave no further
thought to the wretched, disheartened
man he had repulsed. Ho did not stop
to gently scan his brother man, and ho
did not believe that to step aside is
human. So he put the object out of
his mind and gave himself up to the
contemplation of pleasanter themes.
Tho tramp lay on the side of a hill
far enough from the house to bo unrecog
nizable, and ate Mrs. Leslie's bounty in
a semi-savage mood. These were not
his real table manners—he had not for
gotten them, but if each mouthful he
devoured hod been the head of an
tfnemy, he could not have been more
ghoulish or vicious. Every few mo
ments he would burst into anathemas
of speech:
"Cattle! Curse him! What is he? I'd
Ukfl tomaka hlmjwflkr—l would.
Oh, I could die happy just to see that
mail in my place."
He lay and watched the man he
hated, but he divided his attention,
llis bloodshot agonized eyes were fixed
now on the splendid barn that had cost
tho farmer so many thousands of dol
lars, and was the pride of t.he surround
ing country. The fellow writhed with
impatience.
"I hope he'll read tho writing on tho
wall, and recognize the tramp's hand. I
hope he'll —ha—it's working!"
He saw a thin spiral of smoke rising
like a crooked forefinger from the roof
of the barn. The farmer sitting now
with his back turned did not see it.
The tramp watched it and smiled as
Cain might have smiled when he slew
Abel. lie gesticulated as if to
sustain himself In some awful deed;
then another look came into his faco
as he saw a boy ride gayly up to the
barn, turn his horse loose, and carrying
the saddle on his arm, disappear in
side.
One—two three minutes passed.
Nothing had changed except the aspect
of that thin spiral of smoke. It was
now a column cut off from the roof by
a bhine that the sunlight shielded.
Faimer Leslie was asleep in his chair.
The tramp rose to his feet. His ex
pression and the evil purpose that had
possessed hi in changed to a look of dis
reputable virtue. Ilis form expanded
and grew taller, but he stood as if
rooted to the hills.
Farmer Leslie was aroused now. His
wife and daughter wore running here
and there, shrieking fire, and ho was
wildly calling for help, to which sum
mons his men working in the field re
sponded. Hut there was no help that
could save tho smoldering mass, and no
man that could enter that fiery fur
nace.
"Let it burn," shouted the farmer;
"thank God, we are all here."
And at that moment his eye fell on
liis son's pony grazing in the field near
by
"Alfred!" he shouted. "Is he in tho
house? Where is Alfred?"
A man darted past him and disap
peared in that seething mass of flame
and smoke. The group paid no atten
tion to him, but ran distractedly about,
calling the name of the boy who was
the pride of their lives.
Then there was a cry from within, a
smothered cry, taken up and reechoed
by those outside as they recognized his
voice.
"It is my boj'—let me get to him!"
shouted Farmer Leslie, struggling In
LIKE 81IADRACH OF OLD.
the hands of his men. "I will save him
or die with him."
I Jut they could see the shadow of a
inan who walked like Shad rue h of old
in the fiery furnace, but unlike him
there was the smell of fire on his gar
ments, and if the Saviour of men
walked with him, their eyes were hid
den that they could not see. lie car
ried a burden that he had covered with
his tattered coat. The fire fought for
him and wound its long tendrils around
him. It put out the light In those
bloodshot eyes forever. He was liter
ally blazing when he gathered up the
last remnant of his strength, and threw
his burden to those who met him half
way. Then there was a roar and a
crash, and never had man a more mag
nificent funeral pyre than this would
have made. Hut ho stumbled just out
side, and a fallen beam pinned him to
tho earth.
"He saved me, father—l was asleep
and he just caught me up in his arms
and ran with me, and, oh, father, you
will give him money and clothes, and
he shall have ray pony, and every
thing. "
"Yes, yes, please God, I will make a
man of him," said the farmer, as he
bent anxiously over the trump, who,
blind and broken, was coming back to
consciousness.
"Father mother," he murmured,
"are—you—you—both—here? Take—
mj —hand."
Mrs. Leslie and her husband sank
sobbing on their knees, and each took
a hand of the poor outcast.
"It's—getting—light," ho said, "I—
must—get—up."
He tried to rise but the effort was
useless. Ilis poor head refused to
move.
"I know," ho said in a clear voice,
"it's—the—boy. Is—he—safe?"
"Safe, and It is you who saved him.
Live, ray friend, that we may show you
how grateful we are," said the farmer,
suddenly humanized.
"Yes I saved him—and lost—my
self. Perhaps God will know, and take
; this Into account. Forgive mo,"
"What! For saving my boy's life?"
"No." There was a brief death
agony, then a look of peace as life's
latest breath drifted with the words:
| "I would have been a murderer if I had
j let him die in tho flames that—my-r
--hand—kindled!"—Mrs. M. L. Rayne, in
j Detroit Freo Press.
I —Mistress (who has long suspected
I her servant of having a follower and
! thinks she has caught her at lost) —
1 "Mary, your master wishes to know
the meaning of those large footmarks;
can you explain?" Mary "0, yes,
I mum; my sister's been here, and she
j has got the gout so bad she has got to
wear big boots."
A LAI)Y WHO CAN'T TALK.
Howard Fielding Diocussea a Cruel
and Unusual Punishment.
Ho 1. Waiting to Hoc llow the Latly Man
of the World's Fair Will f'arry
Out a Sentence Which They
lUiccutly Imposed.
| COPYRIGHT, ly3.|
A lady in rural Massachusetts writes
to ask me what I think about that
,vorld's fair case. She docs not say
what case she means, but the tone of
her remarks leads mc to believe that if
I can't think as Rho does about it,
whatever It may be, I would more safe
ly stop thinking altogether. For if I
think adversely to her she willcertain
ly find it out and write me another let
ter, whereas, if I simply quit thinking,
few even of my intimate associates
will remark upon the change.
I am not, however, wholly at sea in
regard to the meaning of my cor
respondent. When she quotes the con
stitution of the United States and un
derscores the words "cruel and unusu
al," lam set upon tho track. Evident
ly she is talking of that dreadful act
perpetrated by tho board of lady man-'
agcrs upon one of* its members. The
scar which tho publication of the facts
in that case left upon the. sensibilities
of our whole pcoplo is still fresh. Yet
it may be well to tell the story briefly.
The affair happened in a secret session
of the board from which all but mem-
A LADY WRITES MB.
bcrs were excluded, and thus we have
only as many different versions of the
story as there werq members present.
Which one of them had the distinction
of telling it first, I do not know, but
as there was probably not moro than a
couple of seconds between her and tho
last one, we will let that pass.
It appears that an important ques
tion was before the board and parti
san feeling ran so high that ludics
who wore their own hair which they
had paid for felt safer than those who
had not. The vote was taken by the
raising of the right hand, and in the
excitement the ladies lacked the time
for that calm deliberation which a
lady needs when she is asked to decide
which is her right hand. In a spirit
of fairness they gave each of their
hands the benefit of any doubt that
might exist, and raised them both.
When tho result of the vote was an
nounced it appeared that, of ever 3'
group of five ladies present, six had
voted in tho negative and four in tho
affirmative. One of the minority party
thereupon accused tho presiding officer
of counting only one hand apiece for
the weak side and two or three or moro
for tho other. She said that this was
not warranted by parliamentary usage,
and, furthermore, it was just as mean
as it could bo. She said this not once,
but many times, until finally one of
the majority party stopped talking
herself and heard the remark. When
the presiding officer paused in an ad
dress which she was making at that
time, the lady who had overheard
the charge of fraud reported It, and
at last the majority party learned
about it.
Then Vengeance with a large V
arose and waved her sword. The of
fending member by a vote of six
fifths to four-fifths of the ladies pres
"YOU'LL OKT 'SHUN' CLEAR DOWN TO
YOUR CHERT PROTECTOR."
out was forever denied the privilege
of talking in a meeting of the board.
We have had Homo pretty, good stor
ies of lynchings recently, but what do
they amount to alongside of this?
Now then, says my correspondent,
what arc we going to do about it?
As there is a legal question involved,
she does well to ask 1113' opinion. I
did a similar tiling once, myself, and
have_always been glad of it. I want
ed an opinion on a point of law and
called upon a lawyer named Smith to
obtain it. I had never seen Mr
Smith, but at the first glance my heart
warmed to him. All honester looking
man I had never seen. lie sat by a
desk littered with papers and toyed
with a cane about the size of a ball
bat, while he listened to the case
which I laid lieforc him in detail.
"Now sir," said I, in conclusion,
"will you give me your opinion?"
"With pleasure," ho replied, "my
opinion is that if you consult Smith or
any other lawyer about that matter
you'll get 'shun' clear down to your
chest protector. As for me, lam wait
ing for Smith, but—" and here ho
pounded on the deßk with his cane—"l
ain not looking for his advice; no, sir;
nor his consent."
Ileft.tfeo PJAQQ up. popier than I .had
come in, which shows that excellent re
sults can often be obtained by follow
ing unprofessional opinion. Therefore,
in the present instance, I hare no hesi
tation in replying: to my correspond
ent. The punishment inflicted by the
board of lady managers is cruel and
unusual, and therefore unconstitu
tional. By carrying the case to the
supremo court the lady could no doubt
get a nullification of the sentence,
and, in the ordinary course of the
court's business, the decision would
come just when the lady would need
it, or in other words about the time of
the next Columbian centennial.
Moreover the recent decisions of
various courts regarding the Chinese
exclusion law cover this case.
"We sentence you to be transported
bock to China," said these courts, "and
back you shall go if wo ever And any
way send you."
In the same way, the meat of this af
fair of the lady manager who can't
talk will be found in the execution of
the sentence. It is no exaggeration to
say that fifteen million men in various
parts of the world are waiting in al
most hysterical impatience to learn
how that lady is to be prevented from
talking. A series of experiments which
I have made in the sacred privacy of
my own home have failed to throw any
light upon the subject. I have hod oc
casion in the courso of my married
life to pronounce a similar sentence
several times, but it does not execute
worth one single cent. I have read up
some on the subject, but without any
very good result. I came across the
case of a woman in New Jersey who
was struck in the act of asking her
husband how he could have been so
perfectly silly as to do—well, I forget
what it was, but of course ho hod done
it. When the thunderbolt hit this
woman she stopped talking. Hut, bless
your heart, in half a minute she began
again, while the thunderbolt sneaked
down through the cellar floor and
as far into the ground as it could. Then
there was the case of the masked bur
glars who bound and gagged a woman
somewhere beyond Harlem—just over
the city lino. Whon they had gagged
her, as they supposed securely, they
began to search the house. They went
through the trousers pockets of the
woman's husband, but she showed no
signs of emotion, except at the moment
when they turned away without- hav
ing found anything in the pockets.
Then she shed a single tear of sympa
thy. At last, however, the burglars
opened a closet door and reached for
the highest shelf. Then the gagged
woman spoke, and her voice was heard
on bourd the police boat lying just
south of the Battery.
"If you touch them blackborry pre
serves," she said, "I'll talk to you."
They knew that she would be as good
as her word, and they fled from the
house.
Thus I am able to say with some con
fidence to my correspondent in rural
"IF YOU TOUCH THOSE BLACKBERRY
PRESERVES I'LL TALK—"
Massachusetts that I do not believe
there is any danger that a precedent
will lx> established by this action of
the Inuird of lady managers. The
Irishman who was to have been hanged
on a gooseberry bush is alive yet.
However, there is an experiment in
n kindred subject which is being tried
in Ilrooklyn, and I am watching it
with considerable interest. The trolley
cars of the Jagg Street and Citizens'
lino—so-called because tho cars run
over Jagg street as well as over the cit
izens who happen to be crossing that
thoroughfare—bear this sign:
"Passengers will not spit on the
floor. Conductors ore required to en
force this rule."
There is no joke about this sign; it
really is in thoso ears. I have written
to tho president of tho line asking him
to tell me how he expects the rule to
bo enforced, and requested a spirited
pen-picture of a conductor in the act of
preventing tho offense designated. If
he replies in a satisfactory manner I
shall know how many things can be
done which now seem to mo to verge
upon the impossible.
HOWARD FIELDING.
A Woman netting Into a Car.
"It's great fun," said the conductor,
"to sec a woman get on a cable car.
When tho car starts it always goes as :
if it wero going to beat tho lightning
express. The woman is usually trip- !
ping up tho aisle about that time, and
she pitches forward as though she ,
might dive through the front door.
Just then tho car slows down abruptly
and gives her a reverse action. She
stops short, inclines backward, and
stumbles forward again. If she is
lucky she strikes a vacant seat about
that tipie and plumps into it. Other
wise sho is sure to step on somebody's
foot or brace herself against some
body's shoulders. If you watch her
face you'll see that she wants to gasp,
but doesn't got time to before she's in
the scat, liy that time she realiy.es
that everybody is watching her, and
sho smiles her sweetest. I have
watched hundreds of 'em, and I
haven't found one who didn't smile j
when the ear gave its second plunge.
Young and old, pretty and homely,
are all alike in that respect. They re
mind me of soldiers suddenly con
fronted by an overwhelming force of
the enemy, knowing they are goners,
but bound to make a bravo front be
fore they're downed."—N. Y. Sun.
FRENCH DISHES THAT ARE BAD
Hnalifl iiad us Alllgutorft Whole, a:,j Arti
chokes I.ike Pine Cones.
Snails cooked in their shells form a
i dish which, however enjoyable it may
be to the French gourmand, an Ameri
can cannot relish, says the Epicure.
At a fashionable dinner the writer got
along very well until a plate of a half
dozen was set before him, but he put a
bold face on the matter and tried to
follow the example of the rest.
The thing was coated with a nasty
looking dark greenish slime and looked
forbidding. lie transferred it hastily
to his mouth.
The first thing perceived was an aw
ful reptile flavor, like tho scent in tho
neighborhood of the boa constrictor
cage in a menagerie. Ho tried to bite
the morsel, but it like rubber and
tough as an old boot. It began to grow
big in his mouth, until it seemed to at
tain the size of an elephant.
He felt himself turning pale. At last
he gave a hasty gulp and swallowed
the thing whole. Talk of Thackeray's
American oyster experience being like
swallowing a raw baby; that French
snail went down like a raw alligator;
his French friend by his side observed
his embarrassment with an amused
smile, and, remarking that ho evident
ly did not like snails, kindly relieved
him of tho rest of them and transferred
tlienl to his own plate.
Tho artichoke, a vegetable much
liked in France, was also tho writer's
despair. Everybody was eating them
in the restaurants, and so ho thought
he would call for one. lie was ml vised
to try a half one to begin on.
So a half artichoke was brought,
boiled with vinegar and oil. It was
like a pine cone sliced in two. The
scales were like those of tho pine cone,
too, and there were more of them than
skins to an onion.
These scales were pulled off, one by
one, and just tho lower end, which was
tender, bitten off, after dipping it in
oil and vinegar. It tasted like a soaked
out chestnut, with a strong flavor of
burdock.
Hut the strong point of the artichoke
is the time taken to eat it. The writer
consumed about half an hour and only
tho outer layer was disposed of. To eat
a whole artichoke would take a small
eternity. Ho came to the conclusion,
finally, that American cookery, on the
wholo, was more nourishing than
French.
GETS IDEAS FOR PREACHERS.
A Collegian After Many Failures Haft
Finally Oot a Good Job.
The Cincinnati Times-Star has found
a man who holds the position of agent
for a popular preacher in that city. He
was a college graduate and had studied
law, theology, horses, music, tho drama
and had tried tho newspapers, all with
out success. Then he made the dis
covery that the preachers were tho
hardest pushed-of all professional men
for ideas to incorporate into their ser
mons. Tho old, old story is all right
as a foundation, but so many changes
have been rung on it Blnce tho year 1
that it takes an extraordinary man to
conceivo an original view of it.
"Now this," said the agent, "is what
I do. A preacher hires me to wander
about town and report to him little in
cidents or queer ideas that strike me.
lie takes these and weaves them into
sermons. For instance, a preacher who
has a largo congregation with much vis
iting to do could not, if he wero so in
clined, visit all the public meetings,
tho resorts of gamblers and drunkards,
tho factories and slums of the city. I
am tho eyes through which he sees these
things, and using my information he
speaks learnedly and intelligently of
all phases of life and sets his congre
gation a-wondering where he gets
time to see so much. He is thus en
abled to interest every element in his
congregation, appearing to tho sport
ing men as a sport, to tho athlete as
an enthusiast in athletics, to the mu
sician as a musician, and to the thea
ter-goer as one well versed in the
plays of tho day. I also tell him what
the people aro saying about him, and
so he is able to talk to the different
classes in away that leads them—ig
norant of my offices as a go-between—
to think him really wonderful in read
ing their thoughts. lam liberal in my
ideas. One month I servo a Method
ist, the next may look at the same
things with Haptist eyes, or Presby
terian, or may do service for a heretic.
1 am at present working for a preach
er in this city whose sermons are very
much noticed by the papers, and who
is noted for his original ideas, which I
furnish, but for which I am well paid."
A Hatter's Phrenology.
There is in London a merchant hat
ter who has been studying the phren
ological development of his patrons,
and here are some of his observations:
A high forehead, broad, symmetrically
divided, indicates a large mind, noble
thoughts, and almost invariably genius.
In support of this he refers his reader
to the outlines of the heads of such
men as M. Jules Simon and Vietoi
Hugo. Humps above and behind the
ears show cruelty. Persons whose
heads bulge out about the ears arc
usually prone to save money; those
with a bump on the top of the head are
often very proud; a very large bump in
this place denotes a great egotism.
Men of wit and learning have a prom
iuent and bulging forehead. He ha*
also noted that actors have usually
prominent foreheads. People with re
markable memories have large eyes:
mathematicians have the angle of the
oyelids visible from the side.
The Human Family.
The human family living on earth
to-day, says an exchange, consists oi
about 1,450,000,000 souls—not fewer,
probably more. These are distributed
literally all over the earth's surface
there being no considerable spot on the
globe where man has not found a foot
hold. In Asia, the so-called "cradle oi
tho human race," there arc now aboul
800,000,000 people densely crowded, oi?
an average of about 120 to
square mile. In Europe there are 820,-
COO,OOO, averaging 100 to the squox<
milo.
CASTOR I A
for Infantg and Children.
"Cantor I a ta BO well adapted to children that
I recommend it as superior to any prescription
known to me." n. A. ARCHER, M. D.,
211 So. Oxford St., Brooklyn, N. Y.
" The use of 1 Oastoria * is so universal and
Its merits so well known that it seems a work
of supererogation to endorse it. Few are the
intelligent families who do uot keep Costoria
within easy reach."
CARLOS MARTYN, D. D.,
Now York City.
Late Pastor Blooiningdale Reformed Church.
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S3 SHOE
Do you wear them? When next In need try a pair.
Best In the world.
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"The Winthrop," li&th Street and 7th Ave.,
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