MMFIONAL
SMSCHOOL
(By B. O. SELLERS, Director of Evenings
Department, The Moody Bible Institute,
Chicago.)
BY
LESSON FOR SEPTEMBER 14
It 1 X v V X 1
Lesson
vk mi r
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SYNOPSIS.
Fran arrives at Hamilton Gregory's
home' In Littleburg, but finds htm absent
conducting the choir at a camp meeting.
She repairs thither In search of hirn.
laughs during the service and Is asked to
leave. Abbott Ashton, superintendent of
schools, escorts Fran from the tent. He
teils her Gregory Is a wealthy man,
deeply Interested In charity work, and a
pillar of the church. Ashton becomes
greatly Interested In Fran and while tak
ing leave of her, holds her hand, and Is
seen by Sapphira Clinton, sister of Rob
ert Clinton, chairman, of the school board.
Fran tells Gregory she wants a home
with him. Grace Nolr, Gregory's private
ecretary, takes a violent dislike to Fran
and advises her to go away at once.
Fran hints at a twenty-year-old secret,
and Gregory In agitation asks Grace to
loave the room. Fran relates the story
of how Gregory married a young girl at
Springfield while attending college and
then deserted her. Fran is the child of
that marriage.
CHAPTER V. Continued.
Fran regarded him with somber in
tensity. "I've asked for a home with
you on the grounds that your wife
was my beet friend in all the world,
and because I am homeless, You re
fuse. I suppose that's natural. I have
to guess at your feelings because I
haven't been raised among 'respect
able' people. I'm sorry you don't like
it, but you're going to provide for me
right here. For a girl, I'm pretty in
dependent; folks that don't like me
are welcome to all the enjoyment tkey
get out of their dislike. I'm here to
stay. Suppose you look on me as a
sort of summer crop. I enjoyed hear
ing you sing, tonight
" 'We reap what we sow,
We reap what we sow.'
I Bee you remember."
He shuddered at her mocking holy
things. "Hush! What are you lay
ing? The past is cut off from my Mfe.
I have been pardoned, and I will not
have anybody forcing that past upon
me."
Her words came bitingly: "You
can't help it. You sowed. You etm't
pardon a seed from growing."
"I can help It, and I will. The past
is no more mine than hers our mar
riage was legal, but it bound me bo
more than It bound her. She ckose
her own companions. I have been
building up a respectable life, here in
Littleburg. You shall not overturn
the labor of the last ten years. You
can go. . My will is unalterable. Go
and do what you can!"
Instead of anger, Fran showed ser
row: "How long have you been Mar
ried to the second Mrs. Gregory tie
present one?"
He turned his back upon her as if
to go to the door, but he whesled
about: "Ten years.- You understaad?
Ten years of the best work of my life
that you want to destroy."
"Poor lady ;" murmured Fran. "The
first Mrs. Gregory my 'friend' has
been dead only three years. You and
she were never divorced. The lady
that you call Mrs. Gregory now she
Isn't your wife, is she?"
"I thought " he was suddenly
ashen pale "but I thought that she
I believed her dead long ago I was
sure of It positive. What you say is
Impossible "
"But no one can sow without reap-
"1 Am Mr. Gregory."
Ing," Fran said, still pityingly. "When
you sang those words, it was only a
song, to you, but music is just a bit
of life's embroidery, while you think
it life itself." You don't sow, or reap
In a choir loft. You can't sow deeds
and xeap words." .
"I understand you, now," he fal
tered. "You have come to disgrace
me. What good will that do you, or
or my first wife? You are no abstrac
tion, to represent sowing and reaping,
tut a f'fr h-and-blood girl who can go
away ir te chooses"
"i-'he ilwOFi'8 to stay," Fran assured
" n en you hare resolved to ruin me
I I i. ,r wlf's l. :rtl"
tii
'.. - Bill 11 I
mi, i
"No, I'm just here to have a home."
"Don't they say that the Kingdom
of God may be taken by force? But
you know more about the Kingdom
than I. Let them believe me the
daughter of some old boyhood friend
that'll make it easy.- As the daugh
ter of that friend, you'll give me a
home. I'll keep out of your way, and
be pleasant a nice little girl, of any
age you please." She smiled remotely.
He spoke dully: "But they'll want
to know all about that old college
friend."
"Will you enjoy a home that you
seize by force?"
"Naturally. Well, just invent some
story I'll stand by you."
"You don't know me," he returned,
drawing himself up. "What! do you
imagine I would lie to them?"
"I think," Fran remarked imperson
ally, "that to a person In your posi
tion a person beginning to reap what
he has sown, lying is always the next
course. But you must act as your
conscience dictates. You may be
sure that if you decide to tell the
truth, I'll certainly stand by you in
that."
Helplessly driven to bay, he flashed
out violently, "Unnatural girl or
woman or , whatever you are there
is no spirit of girlhood or womanhood
in you."
Fran returned in a low, concentrat
ed voice, "If I'm unnatural, what were
you in the Springfield days? Was it
natural for you to be married secretly
when the marriage might have been
public? When you went away to
break the news to your father, wasn't
It rather unnatural for you to hide
three year before coming back?
When you came back and heard that
your wife had gone away to be sup
ported by people who were not re
spectable, was it natural for you to
be satisfied with the first rumors you
heard, and-disappear for good and all?
As for me, yes, I have neither the
spirit of girlhood nor womanhood, for
I'm neither a girl, nor a woman, I'm
nothing." Her voice trembled. "Don't
rouse my anger when I lose grip on
myself, I'm pretty hard to stop. If I
let everything rush on my mind how
he my 'friend' my sweet darling
'friend' how she searched for you all
tb" years till she died and how even
n her death-bed she thought maybe
you'd come you "
Fran choked back the words.
"Don't!" she gasped. "Don't reproach
me, or I'll reproach you, and I mustn't
4o that. I want to hide my real heart
from you from all the world. I want
to smile, and be like respectable
people."
"For God's sake," whispered the
ther frantically, "hush! I hear my
wife coming. Yes, yes, I'll do every
thing you say, but, oh, don't ruin me.
You shall have a home with us, you
shall have everything, everything."
"Except a welcome," Fran faltered,
frightened at the emotion she had be
trayed. "Can you show me to a room
quick before your wife comes? I
don't want to meet her, now, I'm ter
ribly tired. I've come all the way
from New York to find you; I reached
Littleburg only at dusk and I've been
pretty busy ever since!"
"Come, then," he said hastily. "This
way I'll show you a room. . . . It's
too late," he broke off, striving desper
ately to regain composure.
The door opened, and a woman en
tered the room hastily.
CHAPTER VI.
Mrs. Gregory.
The wind had suddenly Increased
in violence, and a few raindrops had
already fallen. Apprehensions cf a
storm caused hurried movements
throughout the house. Blinding flashes
of lightning suggested a gathering of
the family in the reception hall, where,
according to tradition, there was "less
danger;" and as the unknown lady
opened the door of the front room,
Fran heard footsteps upon the stairs,
and caught a glimpse of Grace Noir
descending.
The lady closed the door behind her
before she perceived Fran, so intent
was she upon securing from threaten
ing rain some unfinished silk-work
lying on the window-sill. She paused
abruptly, her honest brown eyes
opened wide.
The perspiration shone on Hamilton
Gregory's forehead. "Just a moment,"
he uttered incoherently "wait I'll be
back w"hen I make sure my library
window's closed. . ." He left the
room, his brain in an agony of inde
cision. How much must be told ? And
how would they regard him after the
telling?
"Who are you?" asked the lady of
thirty-five, mildly, but with gathering
wpnder. .
The answer came, with a broken
laugh, "I am Fran," It was spoken a
little defiantly, a 'ittle menacingly, as
it LTOTOATIONS
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if the tired spirit was bracing itself
for battle.
The lady wore her wavy hair part
ed in the middle after that fashion
which perhaps was never new; and no
impudent ribbon or arrogant 'flounce
stole one's attention from the mouth
that was just sincere and sweet. It
was a face one wanted to look at be
cause well, Fran didn't know why.
"She's no prettier than I," was Fran's
decision, measuring from the natural
standard the standard every woman
hides In her own breast.
"And who is Fran?" asked the mild
voice. The lady smiled so tenderly,
it was like a mellow light stealing
from a fairy rose-garden of thornless
souls. .
Fran caught her breath while her
face showed hardness but not against
the other. : She felt something like
holy wrath as her presentment sound
ed forth protestlngly "But are
you?" i
"I am Mrs. Gregory."
"Oh, no," cried Fran, with vloltLw,
Fran Suggested Honor. .
"no!" She added ra'ther wildly, "It
can't be I mean but say you are
not Mrs. Gregory."
"I am Mrs. Gregory," the other re
peated, mystified.
Fran tried to hide 1ier emotion with
a smile, but it would have been easier
for her to cry, just because she of he
patient brown eyes was Mrs. Gregory.
At that moment Hamilton Gregory
re-entered the room, brought back by
the fear that Fran might tell all dur
ing bis absence. How different life
would have been if he could have
found her flown! but he read in her
face no promise of departure.
HiB wife was not surprised at his
haggard face, for he was always work
ing too hard, worrying over his exten
sive charities, planning editorials for
his philanthropic journal, devising
means to better the condition of the
local church. But the presence of this
stranger doubtless one of his count
less objects of charity demanded ex
planation. "Come," he said bruskly, addressing
neither directly, "we needn't stop here.
I have some explanations to make, and
they might as well be made before
everybody, once and for all. . . ."
He paused wretchedly, seeing no out
look, no possible escape. Something
must be told not a lie, but possibly
not all the truth; that would rest with
Fran. He was as much in her power
as if she, herself, had been the effect
of his sin.
He opened the door, and walked
with a heavy step into the hall. Mrs.
Gregory followed, wondering, looking
rather at Fran than at her huscand.
Fran's keen eyes searched the apart
ment for the actual source of Hamil
ton Gregory's acutest regrets.
Yes, there stood the secretary.
CHAPTER VII,
A Family Conference.
Of the group, it was the secretary
who first claimed Fran's attention. In
a way, Grace Noir dominated the
place. Perhaps It was because of her
splendidly developed body, her beauty,
her attitude of unclaimed yet unrec
ognized authority, that Bhe stood dis
tinctly first.
As for Mrs. Gregory, her mild aloof
ufcc suggested that she hardly be
longed to the lauiilv. Hamilton Greg
ory found himself instinctively turn
ing to Grace, rather than to his wife
Mrs. Gregory's face did, indeed, ask
why Fran was there; but Grace, stand
ing at the foot of the stairs, and lock
ing at Gregory with memory of her
recent dismissal, demanded explana
tions. Mrs. Gregory's mother, confined by
paralysis to a wheel-chair, fastened
upon the new-comer eyes whose
brightness seventy ysars or more had
not dimmed. The g 3 was complet
ed by-Mrs. Gregory'.' heloi brother,
older than his elst ftee:: ytxr.
mfWK
T . rvrLi
DUDD3 -I IDKIC ILL y-U.J
This brother, Simon Jefferson, .though
stockily built and evidently well-fed.
wore an air of lassitude, as if peren
nially tired. As he leaned back in a
hall chair, he seemed the only one
present who did not care why Fran
was there.
Gregory broke the silence by clear
ing his throat with evident embarrass
ment. A peal of thunder offered him
reprieve, and after its reverberations
had died away, he still hesitated.
"This," he said presently, "is a the
orphan an orphan one who has
come to me from She 6ays her
name is Frances."
"Fran," came the abrupt correction;
"just Fran."
There was a general feeling that an
orphan should-speak less positively,
even about her own name should be,
as it were, subdued from the mere
facf of orphanhood.
"An orphan!" Simon Jefferson ejac
ulated, moving restlessly in his rffort
to find the easiest cdrner of his chair.
"I hope nothing is going to excite me.
I h;ve heart-disease, little girl, and
I'm Uole to topple off at any moment.
I tell you, I must not be excited." '
"I don't think," replied Fran, with
cheerful interest in his malady, "that
orphans are very exciting."
Hamilton Gregory resumed, cau
tiously stepping over dangerous
ground, while the others looked at
Fran, and Grace never ceased to look
at him. "She came here tonight, after
the services at the Big Tent. She
came here and, or I should say, 10 re
quest, to ask Miss Grace saw 1 her
when she came. Miss Grace knew of
her being here." He seized upon this
fact as if to lift himself over pitfalls.
Grace's eyes w dre gravely judicial.
She would not condemn him unheard,
but at the same time she let him see
that her knowledge of Fran would not
help his case. It did not surprise
Mrs. Gregory that Grace had known
of the strange presence; the secretary
knew of events before the rest of the
family.
Gregory continued, delicately pick
ing his way: "But the child asked to
see me alone, because she had a spe
cial message a yes, a message to
deliver to me. So I asked Miss Grace
to leave us for half an hour. Then I
heard the girl's story, while Miss
Grace waited upstairs."
"Well," Simon Jefferson interposed
irritably, "Miss Grace is accounted for
Go on, brother-in-law, go on, if we
must have it."
"The fact is, Lucy " Gregory at
this point turned to his wife for at
certain odd moments he found relief
in doing so "the fact is the fact is.
this girl is the er daughter of of a
very old friend of mine a friend who
was was a friend'years ago, long be
fore I moved to Littleburg, long before
I saw you, Lucy. That was when my
heme was in New York. I have told
you all about that time of my youth,
when I lived with my father in New
York. Well, before my father died.
was acquainted with this friend. I
owed that person a great debt, not of
money a debt of what shall I say?"
Fran suggested, "Honor."
Gregory mopped his brow while all
looked from Fran to him. He re
sumed desperately: "I owed a great
debt to that friend oh, not of money,
of course a debt which circumstances
COUGH DUE TO NERVOUSNESS
Not Dangerous, but Hard to Distln
' gulsh From That Where Bronchial
Tubes Are Affected.
It frequently happens that persons
hitherto in good health are suddenly
seized with fits of coughing, which
they have considerable difficulty in
overcoming. Due to a general neu
rasthenic or hysterical nervous condi
tion, this cough, owing to its particu
lar characteristics, is termed "the
nervous cough."
The nervous cough often cannot be
distinguished in any way from the
cough due to an affection of the res
piratory passages. It sometimes oc
curs in the form of periodical, pro
longed and very painful fits of cough
ing and sometimes as a continual
short, dry cough. Its most character
istic symptom is that it ceases during
sleep and begins again on "waking.
The patients while often a source of
anxiety to those around them, are
generally otherwise in very good
health. .
Another peculiarity of this cough !s
the absence of any secretion, for even
after very prolonged fits of coughing
there Is rarHy anything noticeable
except a little f&Uva l'a-Ments may
bOKietini'. 3 tvect 5 in clucking tj.e
till
prevented me from paying from
meeting which I still owe to the
memory of that er of that dead
friend. The frlod is dead, you uuder-
stand, yes, dead."-
Mrs. Gregory could not understand
her husband's unaccustomed hesitan
cy. She inquired of Fran, "And is
your mother dead, too, little girl?" t
That simple question. Innocently
preferred, directed the course of . fu
ture events. Mrr Gregory had not in
tentionally 6poken of his friend in
such a way as to throw doubt upon the
sex. Now that he realized how his
wife's misunderstanding might . save
him, he had not the courage to unde
ceive her.
Fran waited for him to speak. The
delay had lost him the power to re
veal the truth. Would Fran betray
him? He wished that the thunder
might drown out the sound of her
words, but the storm seemed holding
its breath to listen.
Fran said quietly, "My mother died
three years ago."
Mrs. Gregory asked her husband.
"Did you ever tell me about this
friend? I'd remember from his name;
what was it?" ;
It seemed impossible for him to ut
ter the name which had sounded from
his lips so often in love. He opened
his lips, but he could not say "Jose
phine." Besides, the last name would
do. "Derry," he gasped.
"Come here, Fran Derry," said Mrs.
Gregory, reaching out her hand, with
tnat sweet smile that somehow made
Fran feel the dew of tears.
Hamilton Gregory plucked up spiis
its. "I couldn't turn away the daugh
ter 'of my old friend. You wouldn't
want me to do, that. None of you
would Now -that I've explained ev
erything, I hope there'll be no objec
tion to her staying here in the house
that is, if she wants to stay.' Sh has
come to do it, she says all the way
from New York."
Mrs. Gregory slipped her arm about
the independent shoulders, and drew
the girl down beside her upon a divan.
"Do you know," she said gently, "you
ere the very first of all his New York
friends who has come into my life?
Indeed, I am willing, and indeed you
shall stay with us, just as long as you
will."
Fran asked impulsively, as she
clasped her hands, "Do you think you
could like me? Could you?"
"Dear child" the answer was ac
companied by a gentle pressure, "you
are the daughter of my husband's
friend. That's enough for me. You
need a home, and you shall have one
with us. I like you already, dear."
Tears dimmed Fran's eyes. "And I
just love you," she cried "My! What
a woman you are!"
Grace Noir was silent. She liked
Fran less than ever, but her look was
that of a , hired secretary, saying,
"With all this, I have nothing to do."
Doubtless, when alone with Hamilton
Gregory, she would express her sin
cere conviction that the girl's presence
would interefere with his work but
these others would not understand.
Fran's unconventionality had given
to Mrs. Gregory's laugh a girlish note,
but almost at once her face resumed
its wonted gravity. Perhaps the
slight hollows in the cheeks had been
pressed by the fingers cf care, but it
was rather lack of light than presence
of shadow, that told Fran something
was missing from the woman-heart,
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
cough, but not for long, and as a
rule in such cases the "next . fit of
coughing is all the more sevore.
The nervous cough is particularly
frequent between the ages oftwele
and seventeen. It then often as
sumes the character of . a barking
cough. It is unattended by any seri
ous danger, and does not induce any
emphysema. Change of climate ap
pears to have most effect upon it -
English Averse to Change.
There is nothing more amusing in
ail the quaint and curious customs of
the English house of commons than
the strange ceremony which marks the
termination of each session.
The moment the house is adjourned,
loud-voiced messengers and policemen
cry out in the lobbies and corridors:
"Who goes home?"
These mysterious words have sound
ed night after night for centuries
through the hall of parliament.
The custom date3 frcm a time when
It was necessary for members to go
home in parties, acompanied by men
carrying links or torched for common
protection against : the foodpads who
infested the . streets . of Loudon But
though thai danger has long since
passed awaV, the question "Who pr
hnrne?" I-. .-'.II as-V.-1. nipht r.fttr nif:);i.
pur;
i u 1 1 L.
THE TEN COMMANDMENTS.
" LESSON TEXT Ex. 20:12-21.
GOLDEN TEXT "Thou shalt love tht
Lord thy God, with all thy heart, and
with all thy aoul, and with all thy
trensth, and with all thy mind; and thv
neighbor as thyself." Luke 10:27.
Every commandment contained in
this second table of the law is condi
tioned upon and rooted in that which
is commanded In the first table, and
all has beeareiterated in the New
Testament.
V. The Fifth Commandment, v 12.
The word "honor" while confined to
this commandment the relation of
child to parent is predicated upon
man's relation to God on the one
hand and on the other it flashes its
light upon every subsequent command.
Our duty to God ia pre-eminent. If we
neglect or disregard God's rights, the
rights of man will soon be lost sight
of. A due and proper regard for those
to whom we owe our being is our first
obligation and is here placed before
those laws that deal with our rela
tions to outsiders. Tiespect, esteem,
obedience and support are all a cart
of that honor which is commanded,
see Prov. 1:8; Eph. 6:1-3; Matt. 15:4-6.
Notice also that woman's place is
here made equal to that of the man.
It Is Paul who emphasizes the fact
that this is the "first commandment
with promise," and also that to neg
lect this duty is to Invite punishment
(Eph. 6:2, 3). It is the business of the
child to honor the parent, no matter
what may be his character; he must
not sit ia judgment. On the other
hand, the parent has an obligation to
the child, Eph. 6:4.
Human Life Sacred.
VI. The Sixth Commandment, v. 13.
This Is a .revelation of the sacredness
of human life. God alone has the right
to take away or command : to take
away human life. One reason for this
is because we are made In his image.
Gen. 9:6.
VII. The Seventh Commandment, v
14. This commandment deals with.
the sanctity of the married relation
and indicates the sacredness of parent
hood. There 13 no other 'sin that so
speedily undermines human character
and overthrows families, tribes and-
nations. It is the source of, or leads
to, every crime In the calendar. It de
molishes the moral sense, wrecks the
body, brings a hell of remorse, misery
and despair, and effectually bars man
from heaven, I Cor. 6:10, 11; Heb.
13:4; Rev. 22:15.
VIII. The Eighth Commandment, v.
15. Here is a statement which deals.
with the sacred rights of possession.
To take that which rightfully belongs,
to another is to steal. It does not
matter if it be done "within the law"
by withholding a just compensation
or by gambling, it is Just the same,.
Deut. 24:14, 15. This works both ways.
The employe who steals his employ
er's time, the buyer or the seller who
cheats, lotteries in the church or out
of it, these, are forms of stealing in.
that they take something without ren
dering a just equivalent of value.
IX. The Ninth Commandment, v. 16.
This commandment recognizes the
sacred rights of character and insists.
upon absolute truth as a standard ot
judgment Reputation cannot be
passed on from father to son; it is
much harder to secure than money
and is far more valuable. Backbiting,
false slander are not compatible with
love for your neighbor. To give wings
to a bit of scandal you have received
is to violate this law.
The Most Severe.
X. The Tenth Commandment, v. 17.,
This is perhaps the most severe re-.,
quirement of ny in this second group
of laws. The man who keeps this will
readily and easily keep the four which
immediately precede it. All desire for
those things that belong to another ia
inconsistent with true love, and in the
light of this law such a desire is sin,
yea, more, it is idolatry, Col. 3:5.
Hard as it is there is, however, a way
to observe it, viz., to love your neigh
bor as yourself." Such love will de
sire that he shall have the best things
and consequently makes it impossible
for us to covet his possessions.
The effect (v. 18) upon the people of
thi3 manifestation of God's glory and
the giving of the law was that they
were filled with fear and besought.
Moses rather than God to speak withL
them. This is a commentary upon the
words of Paul Just referred to, and
an illustration of the need of the law
as a revelation of sin. Moses respond
ed (r. 20) to their fear with words of
assurance, and explained to them that
this fear was to prove them that they
should not sfn.
Life that is truly rooted in religion
expresses itself in morality of the
highest type. Without right relations
with God we cannot expect that chil
dren will properly honor their parents,,
that human life will be safe, that the
marriage relations will be held as
sacred, that the rights of property wilL
be recognized, that truth will be the
basis of judgment, or that covetous
ness and envy will not be the inspira
tion of fraud and wrong doing of all
kinds. On the other hand, wherever
God is supreme. The lives of men
harmonize with the professions of
their lips.