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(By E. O. SELLERS, Director of Evenfn
Department, Tho Moody Bible Institute,
Chicago.)
LESSON FOR NOVEMBER 16
THE DEATH OF MOSES.
LESSON TEXT Deut. 34:1-12.
GOLDEN TEXT "Precious in the
sight of Jehovah is the death of hW ... f
aints." Ps. 116:15.
f
i (mm
Lesson
ml) JOHNBSECKEOTDGE ELLIS
SYNOPSIS.
Fran arrives at Hamilton Gregory's
home in Littleburg, but finds him absent
conducting the choir at a camp meeting.1
She repairs thither In search of him.j
laughs during the service and is asked to
leave. Abbott Ashton, superintendent of
schools, escorts Fran from the tent. He
tells her Gregory is a wealthy man.
deeply Interested In chartty 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 Noir, Gregory's private
secretary, 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
leave 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. Gregory had married his
present wife three years before the death
of Fran's mother. Fran takes a liking- to
Mrs. Gregory. Gregory explains itiat
Fran Is the daughter of a very dear friend
Who is dead. Fran agrees to the story.
Mrs. Gregory insists on her making her
home with them and takes her to her
arms. Fran declares the secretary must
go. Grace begins nagging tactics in an
effort to drive Fran from the Gregory
home. Abbott, while taking a walk alone
at midnight, finds Fran on a bridge tell
ing her fortune by cards. She tells Ab
bott that she is the famous lion tamer,
Fran Nonpareil. She tired of circus life
and sought a home. Grace tells of see
ing Fran come home after midnight with
a man. She guesses part of the story
and surprises the rest from Abbott. She
decides to ask Bob Clinton to go to
Springfield to investigate Fran's story.
'Fran enlists Abbott in her battle against
Grace. Fran offers her services to Greg
ory as secretary during the temporary
absence of Grace.
CHAPTER XIV. Continued.
"Of course you are lonely, child, but
that is your fault. You are in this
house on a footing of equality, and all
seem to like you, except Miss Grace
and I must say, her disapproval dis
turbs you very little. But you won't
adopt our ways. You make everybody
talk by your indiscreet behavior then
wonder that the town shuns your so
ciety, and complain because you feel
lonesome!"
Fran's eyes filled with tears. "If you
believe in me if you try to like me
that's all I ask. The whole town can
talk, if I have you. I don't care for
the world and its street corners there
are no street corners in my world "
"But, child"
"You never call me Fran if yo-a can
help it," she interposed passionately.
"Even the dogs have names. Call me
by mine; it's Fran. Say it, say it.
Call me oh, father, father. I want
your love."
"Hush!" he gasped, ashen pale.
"You will be overheard."
She extended her arms wildly:
"What do you know about God, except
that He's Father. That's all Father
and you worship Him as His son.
Yet you want me to care for your re
ligion. Then why don't you show me
the, way to God? Can you love Him
and deny your own child? Am I to
pray to him as my Father in Heaven,
but not dare acknowledge my father
on earth? No! I don't know how oth
ers feel, but I'll have to reach heav
enly things through human things.
And I tell you that you are standing
between me and God."
"Hush, hush!" cried Gregory.
"Child! this is sacrilege!"
"No, it is not I tell you, I can't
see God, because you're in the way.
"My Unfortunate Child My Daughter
Oh, Why Were You Born."
You pray 'Our Father who art in
Heaven . . . give us this day our
daily bread.' And I pray to you, and
I say, My father here on earth, give
(give me your love. That's what I
want nothing else I want it so bad.
. . I'm dying for it, lather, can't
fon understand? Look I'm praying
Jfor it " She threw herself wildly at
his feet.
Deeply moved, he tried to lift her
from the ground.
"No," cried Fran, scarcely knowing
what she said, "I will not get up till
you grant my prayer. I'm not asking
for the full, rich love a child has the
Tight to expect but give me a crust,
to keep me alive father, give me my
daily bread. You needn't think Gcd is
going to answer your prayers, if you
refuse mia"
EWm Iff wtl I K IVr'V7 m I . .;i r A A -
lill
Hamilton Gregory took
arms and held her to
"Fran," he said brokenly,
her in his
his breast,
"my unfor-
tunate child . . . my daughter
why were you born?'
"Yes," sobbed Fran, resting
head upon his bosom, "yes, why
-oh,
her
was
I born?"
"You break my heart," he sobbed
with her. "Fran, say the word, and
I will tell everything; I will acknowl
edge you as my daughter, and if my
wife"
Fran shook her head. "You, owe no
more to. my mother than to her," she
said, catching her breath. "No. the
secret must be kept always. Father
I must never call you that except
when we are alone I must always
whisper it, like a prayer father, let
me be your secretary."
It was strange that this request
should surround Fran with the chill
atmosphere of a tomb. His embrace
relaxed insensibly.. He looked at his
daughter in frightened bewilderment,
as if afraid she had drawn him too
far from his security for further hid
ing. During the silence, she awaited
his decision.
It was because of her tumultuous
emotions that she failed to hear ad
vancing footsteps.
"Some one is coming," he exclaimed,
with ill-concealed relief. "We mustn't
be seen thus we would be misunder
stood.". He strode to the window, and
pretended to look out. His face
cleared momentarily.
The door opened, and Grace Noir
started in, then paused significantly.
"Am I interrupting?" she asked. In
quiescent accent.
"Certainly not," Gregory breathed
freedom. His surprise was so joyful
that he was carried beyond himself.
"Grace! It's Grace! Then you didn't
go to the city with Bob. There wasn't
any train "
"I am here " began Grace easily
"Yes, of course, that's the main
thing," his delight could not be held
In check. "You are here, indeed! And
you are looking I mean you look
well I mean you are not ill your re
turn is so unexpected."
"I am here," she steadily persisted,
"because I learned something that
affects my interests. I went part of
the way with Mr. Clinton, but after
thinking over what had been told me,
I decided to leave the train at the next
station. I have been driven back in a
carriage. I may as well tell you, Mr.
Gregory, that I am urged to accept a
responsible position in Chicago."
He understood that she referred to
marriage with Robert Clinton. "But "
he began, very pale.
She repeated, "A responsible posi
tion in Chicago. And I was told, this
morning, that while I was away, Fran
meant to apply for the secretaryship,
thus taking advantage of my absence."
Fran's face looked oddly white and
old, in its oval of black hair. "Who
told you this truth?" she demanded,
with a menacing gleam of teeth.
"Who knew of your intentions?" the
other gracefully said. "But this) is no
matter. The point is that I have this
Chicago opportunity. So if Mr. Greg
ory wants to employ you, I must know
it at once, to make my arrangements
accordingly."
"Can you imagine," Hamilton cried
reproachfully, "that without any warn
ing, I would make a change? Cerrain
ly not. I have no intention of employ
ing Fran. The idea is impossible.
More than that, it is er it is abso
lutely preposterous. Would I caimly
tear down what you and I have been
building up so carefully?"
'Then you had already refused Fran
before I came?"
"I had hadn't I, Fran?"
Fran gave her father a look such
as had never before come into her
dark eyes a look of reproach, a look
that said, "I cannot fight back because
of the agony in my heart." She went
away silent and with downcast head.
CHAPTER XV.
In Sure-Enough Country.
One morning, more than a month
after the closing days of school, Ab
bott Ashton chanced to look from his
bedroom window as Hamilton Greg
ory's buggy, with Fran in it, passed.
Long fishing-poles projected from the
back of the buggy.
By Fran's side, Abbott discovered a
man. True it was "only" Simon Jef
ferson; still, for all his fifty years
and his weak heart, it was not as if
it were some pleasant, respectable
woman say Simon's mother. How
ever, old ladies do not sit upon creek
banks. The thought of sitting upon the bank
of a stream suggested to Abbott that
it would be agreeable to pursue his
studies in the open air. He snatched
up some books and went below.
On the green veranda he paused to
Inhale the fragrance of the roses. "I'm
V wS3agSEJi
glad you've left your room," said Miss
Sapphira, all innocence, all kindness.
"You'll study yourself to death. It
won't make any more of life to take It
hard there's just so much for every
man."
Huge and serious, Miss Sapphira sat
in the shadow of the bay-w,indow.
Against the wall were arranged
sturdy round-backed wooden chairs,
each of which could have received the
landlady's person without a quiver of
a spindle. Everything about Abbott
seemed too carefully ordered he
pined for the woods some mossy
bank sloping to a purling stream.
Suddenly Miss Sapphira grew pon
derously significant. Her massive head
trembled from a weight of meaning
not to be lifted lightly in mere words,
her double chins consolidated, and her
mouth became as the granite door of a
cave sealed against the too-curious.
Abbott paused uneasily before his
meditated flight "Have you heard any
news?"
She answered almost tragically,
"Board meeting, tonight."
Ordinarily, teachers for the next
year were selected before the close of
He Understood What Those
Nods Had Meant.
Wise
the spring term; only those "on the
inside" knew that the fateful board
meeting had been delayed week after
week' because of disagreement over
the superintondency. There was so
much dissatisfaction over Abbott Ash
ton because of "so much talk" that
even Robert Clinton had thought it
best to wait, that the young man
might virtually be put upon good be
havior. "Tonight," the young man repeated
with a thrill. He realized how impor
tant this meeting would prove in shap
ing his future.
"Yes," she said warningly. "And
Bob is determined to do his duty. Hf,
never went very far in his own educa
tion because he didn't expect to be a
school-teacher but ever since he's
been chairman of the school-board,
he's aimed to have the best teachers,
so the children can be taught right;
most of 'em are poor and may want
to teach, too. when they're grown. I
think all the board'll be for you to
night, Abbott, and I've been glad to
notice that for the last month, there's
been less talk. And by the way," she
added, "that Fran-feirl went by with
Simon Jefferson just now, the two of
them in Brother Gregory's buggy.
They're going to Blubb's Riffle he
with his weak heart, and her with that
sly smile of hers, and it's a full three
mile!"
Abbott did not volunteer that ho had
seen them pass, but his face 6howed
tho ostensible integrity of a jam-tbief,
who for once finds himself innocent
when missing jam is mentioned.
She was not convinced by his look
of guilelessness. "You seem to be
carrying away your books."
"I want to breathe in this June
morning without taking it strained
through window-screens," he ex
plained. Mis3 Sapphira gave something like
a choked cough, and compressed her
lips. "Abbott," she said, looking at
him sidewise, "please step to the tele
phone, and call up Bob he's at the
store. Tell him to leave the clerk in
charge and hitch up and take me for
a little drive. I want some of this
June morning myself."
Abbott obeyed with alacrity. On his
return. Miss Sapphira said, "Bob'o go
ing to fight for you at the board meet
ing, Abbott. We'll do what we can,
and I hope you'll help yourself."
As Abbott went down the fragrant
street with its cool hose-refreshed
pavements, its languorous shadows
athwart nwe-bush and picket fence, its
hopeful weeds already peering through
crevices where plank sidewalks main
tained their worm-eaten right of way.
o.
QCOPyQtGHT 1912
BOBBS-MEPeiLL'CO.)
he was in no dewy-morning mood. He
understood what those wise nods had
meant, and he was in no frame of
mind for .such wisdom. He meant. to
go far, far away from the boarding
house, from the environment .of
bchools and school-boards, from LJttle
burg with Its atmosphere of ridiculous
gossip.
Of course he could have gone just
as far, if he had not chosen the direc
tion of Blubb's Riffle but he had to
take some direction. He halted before
he came in sight of the stream; if
Fran had a mind to fish with Simon
Jefferson, he would not spoil her sport.
He found a comfortable log where
he might study under the gracious
sky. He did not learn much there
seemed a bird in every line.
When he closed his books, scarcely
knowing why, and decided to ramble,
it was with no intention of seeking
Fran. Miss Sapphira might have
guessed what would happen, but in
perfect Innocence, the young man
strolled, seeking a grassy by-road, sel
dom used, redolent of brush, tree, vine,
dust-laden weed. It was a road where
the sun seemed almost a stranger; a
road gone to sleep and dreaming of
the feet of stealthy Indians, of hoisy
settlers, and skillful trappers. All
such fretful bits of life had the old
road drained into oblivion, and now it
seemed to call on Abbott to ehare
their fate, the fate of the forgotten.
But the road lost Its mystic mean
ing when Abbott discovered Fran.
Suddenly It became only a road nay.
It became nothing. It seemed that the
sight of Fran always made wreckage
of the world about her.
.She was sitting in the Gregory bug
gy, but, most surprising of all, there
was no horse between the shafts no
horse was to be seen, anywhere.. Best
of all, no Simon Jefferson was visible.
Fran in the buggy that was all. Slow
traveling, indeed, even for this sleepy
old road!
"Not in a hurry, are you?"
"I've arrived," Fran said, in un
friendly tone.
"Are you tired of fishing, Fran?"
"Yes, and of being fished."
She had closed the door in his face,
but he said as through the keyhole
"Does that mean for, me to go away?"
"You are a pretty good friend, Mr.
Ashton," she said with a curl of her
lip, "I mean when we are alone." '
" 'While we're together, and after
we part,' " he quoted. "Fran, surely
you don't feel toward me the way you
are looking."
"Exactly as I'm looking at you, that's
the way I feel. Stand there as long
as you please "
"I don't want to stand a moment
longer. I want to sit with you in the
buggy. Please don't be so so old!"
Fran laughed out musically, but im
mediately declared: "I laughed be
cause you are unexpected; it doesn't'
mean I like you any better. I hate
friendship that shows itself only in
private. Mr. Chameleon, I like people
to show their true colors."
"I am not Mr. Chameleon, and I
want to sit in your buggy."
QUEER THING IS THE TURTLE
Scotch Naturalist of Wide Repute De
clares It Is Neither Fish, Flesh
Nor Fowl.
According to Macdonald, a Scotch
naturalist of wide repute, the turtle is
the strangest of all living things and
the most unfathomable. He can live
in the water as well as out of it and
can seemingly go for indefinite lengths
of time without air or food or light.
He is neither fish nor flesh nor fowl,
and yet he has the characteristics of
all three. As for his eating, it seems
quite superfluous, for he can remain
shut up in a barrel for a number of
weeks and emerge at the end of the
time apparently none the worse for
the lack of food and -light and air.
The baby turtle seems also Just as
Indifferent to its surroundings cs its
parents are. As soon as it comes
forth from its egg It scuttles off to the
sea. It has no one to teach or guide
It. In its brain seems implanted the
idea that until its armor becomes hard
it has no defense against hungry fish.
And so it seeks shelter" in gulf weed
and feeds unmolested until its armor
gets hard.
By the time that it weighs 23
pounds, which occurs the first year, it
knows that it is far from all danger,
for after that no fish, however hungry
"Well, then get In the very farthest
corner. Now look me in the eyes."
"And, oh, Fran, you have 6uch eyen!
They are so - marvelously er un
friendly."
"I'm glad you ended up that way.
Now look me in the eyes. Suppoae
you should see the school-board sail-.
Ing down the road, Miss Sapphira
thrown in. What would you do?"
"What should I do?"
"Hide, I suppose," said Fran, sud
denly rippling.
"Then you look me in the eyes and
listen to me," he said Impressively.
"Weigh my words have you scales
strong enough?"
"Put 'em on slow and careful."
"I am not Mr. Chameleon for I show
my true color. And I am a real friend,
no matter what kind of tree I am "
He paused, groping for a word.
"Up?" she suggested, with a sudden
chuckle. "All right let the school
board come. But you don't seem sur
prised to see me here in the buggy
without Mr. Simon."
"When Mr. Simon comes he'll find
me right here," Abbott declared.
"Fran, please don't be always showing
your worst side- to the town; when
you laugh at people's standards, they
think you queer and you can't imag
ine just how much you are to me."
"Huh!" Fran sniffed. "I'd hate to
be anybody's friend and have my
friendship as little use as yours has
been to me."
He was deeply wounded. "I've tried
to give good advice "
"I don't need advice, I want help In
carrying out what I already know."
Her voice vibrated. "You're afraid of
losing your position if you havo any
thing to do with me. Of course I'm
queer. Can I help it, when 1 have
no real home, and nobody cares
whether I go or stay?"
"You know I care, Fran."
Fran caught herHp between her
teeth as if to hold herself steady. "Oh,
let's drive," she said recklessly, strik
ing at the dashboard with a whip, aid
shaking her hair about her face till
she looked the 'elfish child he had first
known.
"Fran, you know I care you know
it."
"We'll drive .into Sure-Enough
Country," she said with a half-smile
showing on the side, of her face next
him. "Whoa! Here we are. All who
live in Sure-Enough Country are sure
enough people whatever they say Is
true. Goodness!" She opened her
eyes very wide "It's awful dangerous
to talk in Sure-Enough Country." Sae
put up her whip, and folded her
hands.
' "I'm glad we're here, Fran, for you
have your friendly look."
"That's because I really do like you.
Let's talk about yourself how you as
pect to be what you'll be you're noth
ing yet, you know, Abbott; but how
did you come to determine to be some
thing?" Into Abbott's smile stole something
tender and sacred. "It was all my
mother' he explained simply, "iihe
died before I received my state cer
tificate, but she thought I'd be( a gr?at
man so I am trying for it."
"And she'll nevtr know," Frsai
lamented.
(TO BR CONTINUED.)
or well armed with teeth, can
fere. The turtle immediately
inter-with-
draws its head into its neck between
the two shells, and all intending de
vourers struggle in vain to impress it.
Why She Was Quitting.
A famous Ohio humorist says that a
new rich family in Cleveland, who
were beginning to put on a lot of airs,
hired a colored girl just arrived from
the south to act as their serving-maid.
Her new mistress insisted that all
meals should be served in courses.
Even when there wasn't much to eat
it was brought to the table in courses.
At the end of a week the girl threw
up her job. Being pressed for a rea
son for quitting so suddenly, sh eld:
"I'll tell you, lady. In di yere
house dere's too much shiftin' of de
dishes fur de fewness of de vittlea."
Theater Used as a Stable.
The Turkish theater of Mustapha
Pasha is, In the opinion of convoy ex
perts, the most convenient stable they
have found in the length and breadth
of the peninsula.
The pit boxes sere for mules,
horses, or oxen; the galeries are
crammed witi hay and straw; the bal
cony is a reservoir for oata; the stage
is a surgical center for operation on
wounded animals, while the green
room is a special haunt of buffaftooa.
I. The Old Leader, vv. 1-8. We hare
now come to the last of our lessons
which have to do with Moses. Fol
lowing his lamented failure at the
time of the second arrival at Kadesh
Barnea, Miriam dies; at Mt. Hor,
Aaron departed and his office is be
stowed upon his son, Eleazar. Then
quickly followed the plague of ser
pents, tho defeat of the king of the
Amorites, Balaam's folly, the apostasy
of Israel which waa. cleansed by blood
through the zeal of Phinehas, and final
ly the arrival upon the plains of
Moab.
Law Confirmed.
Here Moses repeats and confirms
the law to this new generation of
Israel, delivers his last charge, sings
his last song, ascends Mt. Nebo to
view Canaan, and is "forever with
the Lord." In the passage marked out
for this lesson we have the account of
the passing of this wonderful servant
of God. Returning to ch. 31:1-8 an4
32:44-52 we see this journey in pros
pect, after that we read Moses parting
blessing and in this section we read 1
of the fulfilment of that prospect
Moses anticipated his departure by a
quiet dignity, absolutely divorced from
haste or fret, that was characteristic
of his life of submission and was the
essence of his life of faith.
Before departure Moses solemnly
charged this newer generation to ob
serve the law, declaring that It is not
a vain nor an empty thing, but in deed
and in truth to them the way of life.
Then comes the simple dignified ac
count of this last act of obedience, sim
ple, yet sublime. Yonder we see him,
viewed by the hosts of Israel, as he
ascends the mountain alone yet not
alone prepared to spend Lis last,
hours upon earth with Jehovah, who
doubtless appeared as the angel
Jehovah and pointed out to him tho
land he so much longed to enter, but
could not because he failed to sanctify
God in the sight of the people at a
critical moment. Taking the glory to
himself on that occasion demanded an
act of punishment as a warning to
the people, hence, "it went ill with
Moses for their sakes," Ps. 106:32.
There upon the mount God's covenant '
with Abraham is confirmed and with
undimmed eye and undiminished vigor
(v. 7), Moses was shown the fufll-
ment of that promise, his body was
laid at rest by God himself, in an un- :
known and unmarked sepulchre, "over
against Beth-Peor," v. 6.
II. The New Leader, v. 9. God never
leaves his people without a leader
and hence Joshua is exalted to com
pensate Israel for the loss of Mose3.
"The king is dead long live the
king." The worker dies, the work
goes on and many times the victories
of the new leader are fully as great
and far reaching as any won by the
former leader. Joshua was not Moses.
he was Joshua and as such called to
face new problems.
III. A Great Character, yv. 10-12. The
description of Moses is of one who saw
Jehovah face to face, a peculiar dig
nity, and the secret of his greatness.
When Aaron and Miriam murmured
God declared that Moses was different
from all other prophets in that, "with
him will I speak mouth to mouth, even
manifestly, and not in dark speeches,
and the form of Jehovah shall he be
hold," Num. 12:6-8. Moses himself
declared to Israel that when God
spoke to them out of the midst of the
fire, "I stood between the Lord and
you," Deut. 5:4, 5. The supreme
teaching of this lesson is the fact that
great as Moses was, he was never
theless excluded from the promised
land as a warning to Israel.
On the other hand this story is a
wonderful illustration of the tender '
compassion and watchful care of Jeho
vah even to the end. Even the discip
line of Jehovah is accompanied by
gentleness. If he must needs bo ex
cluded yet he is not excluded from
communion with Jehovah.
Thus this saint who was separated
to the will of God passes out of life.
In the hour of the consummation of
his life work his spirit passes Int'pai
yet closer fellowship with God. Tnd in gral
Psalmist in the words of the goldof grasses I
text most beautifully suggest&weYmuda, bij
such an hour is a delight to God, ifnd eral
iut7 w vtwlUQ YVXliiJ 111 LI C I UV7
awaiting his saints. Do not forget the
last glorious appearing of Moses after
the lapse of the centuries when:
"On the hills he never trod
Spoke of the strige that won our life
With the Incarnate Son of God."
"Death and judgment were a con
stant source of fear to me until I real
ized that neither shall have any hold
on the child of God." D. L. Moody:
Do not put death out of consideration,
but welcome it as Moses welcomed
it. When we stand on Pisgah, can
we say we did our full duty? In that
hour the plaudits of men will be
stilled.
Moses was a great hero, prophet,
priest, law-giver, poet and general,
yet Israel could erect no monument
over his grave, to do him honor. It
was a greater honor to follow his
admonitions and obey toe law.
J-
A