THE FRANKLIN
PRESS.
VOLUME XIX.
FRANKLIN. N. C. WEDNESDAY. JUNE 8, 1904.
NlhHJWIi 23
V
THEY ARB
I met a little Mormon girl;
- She wm just eighteen, she nl1,
Her hair was dreiwed with one big curl
Thut dangled Irom her bond.
Bhe bad a simple way, and bland;
Her speech was soft nud cool.
And in ber hone it, widespread band
She bore u uillkinj stool.
"How many children, little maid,
Are in your family r"
"Howmanyr Sixty-seven," she snkl,
And shyly looked at me.
Her hazel eyes to ml no gho raised,
And then she cost them down.
" 1 did not ask," I said, amazed,
"The census o( your town.
"How many children 'ro,und your door
Disport in childish glee?"
"Just sixty-seven." she said, once more,
And smiled again at me.
While Breakfast Waited.
By Otho
Thoy sat at the extreme ends of the
garden seat. The man glared resent
fully at the girl; the. girl gazed se
renely oil Into the distance.
"Isn't this a deuce of an awkward
position?" ho bogan, moodily.
- "Pardon me, I am sitting as grace
fully as I know how."
"It isn't .that you know wjiat I
mean you know what is expected of
us."
"I could hardly help knowing," wearily.-
"I've heard nothing else for the
last six years."
"That's right; we may as well be
perfectly honest. No one need be sur
prised if I say I've hated you all that
time, even though I haven't seen you."
"Well, I haven't loved you," tartly.
"No, I suppose not; I dare say it has
been as bad for you as for me."
"Oh, worse; Infinitely worse!"
"I don't know why worse " defen
sively. "Oh, everything is always worse for
a woman. A girl always has her
ideals "
"And, I don't In the least corre
spond " tentatively, with evident anx
iety. "Not in the least," promptly.
"What Is the matter with me, I'd
like to know?" Blightly aggressive.
"Well, since you'd 'like to know,"
youvare too conceited."
"Conceited? Me? Well, I like that!
You're talking frank, to say the least."
"I can afford to be I'm not trying to
captivate you."
"I can readily believe that Any
thing else?"
"You are not tall enough."
I measure five feet eleven Inches"
SUBiyT"! fxleer two:
too fat you don't take
"Great Scott! 1 Hear her! address
ing the landscape "And I train like
a prize fighter!"
"I am glad you do," patronizingly.
"You would be actually obese if you
didn't."
: The man fairly gasped with rage.
"It was you, I believe, who suggest
ed being perfectly honest," she re
marked. A long silence. ' The girl scanned
the hazy blue of the New Hampshire
hill; the man watched her face, noting
the beauty of the curve from ear to
chin, and the Sne, proud poise of the
head.
"Do you know," he said suddenly, "If
I had met you anywhere else, not
knowing you are Helene Hunter,
whose lands Join mine I am sick of
hearing about these lands I should
have fallen in love with you?"
"I would expect you to," indifferent
ly. "You would?"
"Certainly; I consider that I am well
worth falling In love with."
"Oho! Nothing conceited about her,
now is there?" appealing to the land
scape. "And yet," continuing medi
tatively, "you aren't at all like the
girl I've always Imagined "
"Tell me about her," imperiously.
"She is dainty and petite." MIsb
Hunter, being five feet nine, looked
ber contempt. "A most uewltchin;
.blonde." Miss Hunter's dark head
Jnoved a trifle higher. "She has the
most exquisite complexion I ever saw
By the way, I wish you'd turn that par
, asol a little; that green lining makes
you look positively ghastly."
"I know that," hastily. "That Is the
reason I brought It." The olive cheek
flushed and Jhe crimson Up quivered.
"But beautiful as- she Is personally,"
with increasing enthusiasm, "it la her
disposition that I most admire." Tht
; parasol was slowly and cautiously low
ered to the ground. "She is so sweet
and patient and gentle "
...... "A modern female Moses, I dare
say!"
"And never Indulges In sarcasm,"
i firmly, "and is always anxious to
please others Oh, well," leaving the
subject with seeming reluctance, "this
. will never do. It's understood that I
ought to propose to you" inquiring
ly. " "Of course, it is expected of you. But
never mind," consolingly, "you know
I am going to refuse."
, "Oh, as to that."-' magnanimously,
"you mar do as you like. Pm at your
mercy"
"I'd have to refuse, after that
. speech," she cried passionately,
"whether I Wanted to Or not!"
"I suppose all the members of both
families win be raging," musingly, Ig
noring her blase of anger. 'They have
planned aver since we were children.
Every letter I've had from Aunt Polly
has been filled with the most flattering
descriptions of you. Of course, yon
have Improved some," judicially crit
ical, "In'the last, six years. Helene,"
suddenly, "do you remember the day
you fell oft the bridge at Stony Brook,
and cut your head, and came so sear
drowning?" i
"I remember," very gently. "I must
have drowned but for you. And you
carried me home la your arms, a hill
mile."
"I believe I did. And yon had terri
bly long legs" rsmlniscently.
"I've got enough to tand oa now,"
she rotcrted with spirit, "which Is
more taai you will have,- with the
ViJlfitly.-; ,
7
8IXTY-8EVEN.
"Forty of us at rovo dwell;
At Ugden thure are nine;
The good ship Jaue, they sail her well
1 Twelve brothers, dear, ot nilue."
" I see at last. Tour meaning's clear,"
Paid I, with laughter merry;
" Is it an orphanage, my dear,
Or a female seminary ?"
"My father kiud ts drawing near,"
The IfUle muld replied!
" He's been to roam; he's bringing homo
Another brand new bride.
"With father dear we dwell at pence;
Our mothers aro eleven;
'Hound every door there's room for more
And we are sixty-seven.'
And then I left Id dumb dismay
The maid with eyes, like heaven;
But as I left I heard her say,
"And I'm the oldest, by the way,
Of all the sixty-seven."
Council Bluffs (Iowa) Xonparell.
B. Sengs.
relatives, If you don't proposo pretty
soon!"
"Well, I'm going to. You don't feci a
bit like falling in love" enxiously.
"Not with you. Do you feel any
symptoms of anything of the kind?"
"Nary symp. Well, here goes I
suppose we may as well get the awk
ward Job over with. Helene, Miss
Hunter ahem ahem
"It must be very painful," with pre
tended concern. "Perhaps you had
better wait a while. You know you
only reached home last night. We
might be forgiven If we failed to un
derstand why we were sent out to take
a walk in the garden before break
fast." "No, it will have to be done sooner
or later, and it may as well be now.
Hold your parasol back of you, will
you? I'm positive Aunt Polly is look
ing out of the south window."
"You said the lining was unbecom
ing "
"And you said you didn't care "
"Well, any woman wants to look her
best when receiving a proposal. Of
course, I haven't the exquisite com
plexion of your divinity-: "
"Who said I had any divinity? I
didn't I haven't even thought of any
other woman slnco we while you
you with your six-feet-two ideal,
your Adonis, who Isn't fat "
"Don't get excited. I can see a pair
of field-glasses leveled from the vines
on our north piazza, and I hare no
doubt Aunt Mollle Is behind them."
"They've spoiled everything for us,
Helene, the aunts and the uncles on
both sides. If they'd let us alone, as
we were bIx years ago; but they con
cocted this scheme of joining the lands
P and ua-and ih la IsihTfesu
bate me "
"Aunt Kitty is waving her handker
chief, Philip. We must go In. Aie
you going to finish that proposal or
not?"
"Yes, I am," with grim determina
tion. "Helene Hunter, will you be my
wife?"
"No, I will not. There, that's done
with Aunt Molly Is expecting you to
breakfast with us, Phil."
"And Aunt Polly la expecting you at
our house. Don't hurry, Helene. I
say, Helene, It's an awful pity we
couldn't like one another "
"It does seem so," sighing and sink
ing back upon the seat again.
"It will be a dreadful disappointment
to all these old people," regretfully.
"You see, we being orphans, and own
ing all these lands Isn't the air sweet
with the roses, Helene? and such
friends as we were in childhood, they
really had a right to expect "
"I know. Isn't It terrible? I really
dread to meet Aunt Mollle and Aunt
Kitty, and as for poor Uncle Charlie "
"Uncle Ben will grieve himself sick,
and Aunt Polly will be furious "
"Heavens, yes; I'll be actually afraid
to go near your house again. I won't
dare let any of them know that I re
fused you."
"I'll tell you, Helene," soothingly, "if
you thick it will make matters any
easier for you, you can propose to me,
and I'll refuse "
"Philip Parktiurst, you are perfectly
odious!"
"Not at all," argumentatlvely. "It's
like this: I propose to you you re
fuse; you propose to me I decline.
Nono of the relatives can attach any
blame to either of us."
"That does sound like a good
plan "
"Good! Why, It's simply great!"
with enthusiasm. "Now go ahead."
"Put the parasol behind you, then.
Aunt Mollis and Aunt Kitty are both
on the piazza now." "
"Never mind; that's only a manifes
tation of interest. And Aunt Polly is
still gazing from the south window.
However I'll take the parasol if you
wish."
"Yes, do; my back is toward your
Aunt Polly, but I believe the others
could see what I am saying they have
the field-glasses."
The parasol is carefully adjusted.
"Is the green lining very unbecom
ing, Helene T"
"How absurd! As if that made any
difference to a man!"
"Ob, well, on an occasion like this,
you know Now, all ready!" :
"I wish you'd close your eyes, Phil,
This ia very embarrassing, I never pro
posed to any one before, you know"
"Oh, didn't you?" innocently.
"Philip Parkhurat, how dare you!"
"Excuse me, excuse me of course
not I was" thinking of something
"Right in the midst ot a proposal!"
"It wasn't exactly In the midst, Hel
ene; Just oa the verge, to to apeak. I
was wondering if it would be polite for
me to refuse er-ooming from a lady,
you see- I hardly know Is there any
authority " - '
' "You are very sure you'll refuse,
Phil"
"Very sure. I wouldn't, thaugh,"
opening his eyes sudenly, and speak
ing with force and decision, "if it
weren't for that infernal bean-pol
Ideal of yours"- - -."And
I would never have refused
vou. only for that blonde dwarf with
Jie amiable disposition."
"Go on, Helene," he said, chokingly,
"Close your eyes again. Now" A
long pauso. "My goodness! isn't ft
awful? I don't believe a t woman
would let a man flounder, around and
not lend a helping hand."
"Impossible, Helene; it takes both,
hands to hold the parasol. Unless
you'd like me to put that down-" .
"No, no,; don't They are all on the
piazza now- Uncle Charlie and all;
and," glancing fearfully over her shoul
der, "oJj, Phil, your Aunt Polly Is fair
ly flattening her cose against the
south window."
A prodigious forcod yawn is the only
reply. v "
"Are you sure your eyes are'tlghtly
clewed, Phil?" .' .
"Glued, actually glued, Helene." .
"Well," hesitatingly, her breath com
ing short and fast. "Philip Parkhurat,
will you marry me?'.'
The parasol went flying through the
air, and the man caught the girl In a
quick embrace. "Suro thing, Helene!
Never was so glad before in all my
life!"
"Oh, don't, don't, Phil. They're all
looking "
"Of course they are; but you don't
care now we're engaged, do you, Hel
eno?" "Phil," reproachfully, "do you think
that was fair?"
"Well, you needn't have grown up to
bo ro bewildei'lngly beautiful "
"I wanted lo," laughing Joyously. "I
was soafriid I' wouldn't be pretty
when you came back.? I knew you'd
think of me as you saw me last."
"Helene, you do love me, don't you?"
"A little "
"That's enough it'll grow; I'll see
to that. Dearest, haven't you known
all these years that I loved you?"
"Yes," shyly, "I knew by my own
feelings."
"You adorable "
"Don't, Phil; Aunt Kitty is ring
ing the bell."
"Just a second. Are you sure we're
engaged?"
"Very sure, Phil dear."
"And you love me? Say It, Hcl
eno." "And I love you, I'hII."
He drew her hand through his arm,
tenderly. "All right, sweetheart; now
we'll have breakfast." Woman's Homo
Companion.
ORIGIN OF CITY PLANS.
Fortifications for Defense Were the
First Features.
All cities, with few exceptions, trace
the origin of their plans to the in
closed camp, and many 'still show
marked features of prlniltlvc!
cations. In all early scliemf
fense tho inclined square
sldered the best. From the 8
wagons were T.efely parked V
plain r-jhe, time when bulldintl
construciijl with blank walls
enemy, anA their facade to thev
square, thiftilnn has been universal
oriV mCIiI iBUift Ji' tlie great
squares or market places of famous
cities still show undeniable evidences
of theso precautions for defense. In
the old city of nfua&el.i, the square
upon whicli faces Its wonderful City
Hull is approached by streets so nar
row that they must surely have been
constructed with the idea of defense
in mind.
Were it possible to forecast the
rapid development of cities or to pre
dict which of our many cities Is to
become a metropolis the problem
nii.ht not bo such a difficult one, but
such, unfortunately, is not the case.
Even the most vidid imagination would
scarcely have been able fo predict the
enormous increase of population and
the consequent architectural develop
ment of modern cities. The rapid
growth of American cities is well
known, but few renlizo that the older
cities of Europe have had a similar
experience. The recent Increase In
Berlin has exceeded that of Chicago,
and what is true of Berlin Is true of
many other European centers. It is
then not surprising to noto that In
Hanover, Hamburg, Nnremburg, Lelp
sic, Lelgnitz, St. Joliann a Saar and
Mndgeburg, modern munloipal build
ings of great importance have recent
ly been or are now being constructed.
P. 3. Lamb In Architects and Build
ers Magazine.
QUAINT AND CURIOUS.
In Mexico the family of a dead duel- I
1st can claim support from the per- j
son who shot him.
The Ainu women in Japan tattoo
their faces to give them the appear
ance of men with whiskers.
In the course of a murder trial at
Cape Town recently the defendant, an
aged Malay trader, admitted that he
had 27 wives.
In the schools of Rhenish, Prussia, a
change of stockings and shoes Is pro
vided for the use In school of chil
dren who arrive with wet feet
The wives of Siamese noblemen have
their hair cut in pompadour style. It is
usually about one and a half inches In
length and sticks up straight, like the
hairs in a blacking brush.
The most expensive fur is that of the
of the black fox ot Kamschatka, the
skin ot which, when dressed, becomes
a very attractive blue. A single skin
is worth as much as $1000.
Ohio has come to the front with
new injunction. It was granted to
man to prevent bis jvlfe from going
on a strike, and now she has got to do.
all the housework or be in contempt of
court'. V- ; -
Cat That Bummontd Mnld to Open
'.;', ; Door. "
' A wonderful cat attracted the atten
tion of every one who yesterday pass
ed up or down Eighth street on the
west side betwe-n Locust andt Spruce.
Pussy was pure white. She was stand
ing upon the step railing ot a house
which was Just high enough to enable
her to, reach the electric button with
her -raw. She manipulated this so
vigorously that the door was soon op
ened by a servant, who picked pus
sy up, took her In her arms, entered
the house and cloned the door. It was
the sentiment of all who witnessed
the trick that Maria, or whatever her
name might be, was a bright cat.
Phlladclphia Evening Telegraph.'
Wit
Breading 8heep. .
Well fed sheep always produce the
most and best wool. Softness and pli
ancy of wool usually correspond in a
degree with fineness. Harshness and
dryness are always detrimental to the
quality oven If the fiber is otherwise
good. As a rale, this condition may
be taken as an Indication of pcor
breeding, 'although It may be due to
diseaso, old ago cr improper treat
ment, says Wool Market and Bheep.
Generally a fleece belna ta uccllue in
value after a sheep becomes four ve.irs
old. 8oftness and pliancy are to con
siderable extent due to the secretions
of the ekln. A clesr pink or yellow
ish skin is an indication of a good
quality of wool, while a pale or bluish
skin is generally accompanied by an
Inferior fleece. The yolk Is (he oily
secretion which gives color, softness,
pliancy and luster to the fleece. It con
sists of a soapy matter, principally ani
mal oil and potash, which promotes
the growth of the flooco and prevents
friction, wearing the filers and cottlng.
Good feeding, shelter ajid care promote
liberal secretion of yolk, whllo expos
ure and alkali soils result In Injury to
wool by diminishing the yolk.
Feeding the Apple Orchard.
Why It is eo many men will go to
the expense of buying trojs and giv
ing them place on the farm and then
almost cr quite neglect them, is be
yond finding out. This is done every
year and by men of intelligence, men
who understand thoroughly tho neces
sity of proper stock feeding and who
follow It, yet apparently can not see
why the tree should bo fed and cared
for. There are evidences In almost
every section which show what proper
feeding and cultivation will'do for fruit
trees, and especially for apple trees. It
makes no difference what the plan of
culture is so long a3 the soil is sup-
plied in some way with food and mois
ture which will enable It to force the
! trees to proper growth. True, the soli
may be good and ric'.i when the trees
are set, but it doesn't take a thrifty
I tree long to eat up tho bulk of the
plant food In any soil so that from tho
i very first feeding of the soil should
be done not only to Eijpply the wants
of the tree, 'lIV-r-ir ""' practically
food already
ii on this plan
other ways
regular re-
be. No
, cow for milking
purposes that does not produce at
least 250 pounds of butter fat In a
year. The expense of caring for tho
animal will barely be met by the pro
duction of 175 to 200 pounds of butter
fat. Tha pvoat lies in the production
above expanses.
A cow yielding 2G0 pounds a year
gives a fair profit, but a 300-pound
cow gives more than twice as much
profit. The ordinary yield of milk
should be 5500 to 65W pounds a year.
Some of the best cowi produce as high
as 8000 to 11,000 pounds of milk in
a year, containing 400 to 500 pounds
of butter fat. The only accurate way
to decide which are the best cows 4n
a herd is to employ Borne method of
determining production, such as weigh
ing or measuring the milk and testing
with the Babcock test.
Profits in dairying depend largejy
on the system. Farmers should aim to
have their cows produce the largest
quantity of milk at tho time It will
demand the highest prices. For this
reason winter dairying is much more
profitable than summer work.
If cows freshen in the spring, It is
true large amounts of milk can be
produced on cheap Bummer' pasture, hut
at that time. milk sells at the lowest
price. The heat, drouth and files are
troublesome. A farmer Is busy wltji
his crops and harvest, and tho care of
milk and the making of butter is much
more difficult than during the winter.
These cows must also be put pn dry
feed during the winter. The change
usually produces a marked decrease
in the milk flow, or even causes them
to go dry entirely. They must also
be fed a reasonable allowance during
the winter to keep in good condition,
for which they often give absolutely
no returns. Farmer's Home Journal.
The Hotbed on tho Farm.
A hotbed is almost a necessity on the
farm. It is certainly a luxury that once
indulged will never be lacking. It Is
easy to be had, also.. All that is re
quired is a bottomless box on the
ground from which the earth has been
removed to a depth of from six to ten
inches and horse manure filled in and
trodden down to make warmth; the
manure to be covered with four inches
ot fine soil in which to plant the seeds;
the box to be covered with cloth to
retain the heat at night, supplemented
with boards on cold nights. This is
the simplest kind ot hot bed, and is
within the reach of every one. If one
can go a step further it will be bet
ter; but with this simplest of all forc
ing arrangements one may have let
tuce and radishes' for the table in a
surprisingly short time, and also cab
bage and tomato plants tor early plant
ing. ' .
' For a hotbed more extensive take
boards of such lengths as you wish to
have it, either six, twelve, eighteen,
twenty-four or more feet, and having
dug out the earth to form a pit, say
twelve feet long by three feet wide
and on toot deep, place the boards in
the pit to form the walls of the hot
bed. The boards at tho .back, which
should be at the north or west, so
as to get a south or east exposure,
should be three or four Inches higher
than those at the south or each, o the
covering may slant toward the south
or east This box of boards twelve
geet long by three feet wide should be
partitioned off in the middle to keep
the twelve foot boards from sagging
In. Twelve Inches of fresh horse man
ure should be filled Into tho pit and
trodden down firmly. It will quickly
generate heat, which may at first be
too great -for seeds. It Bhould there
fore be allowed to remain two or thrrr
dav for the most violent beat to pa,a
' any low or it
1- , in tne wr i
ii i. iinY
in it)
off. Then cover the manure with four
inches of flue soli and plant. the seeds
in it, either, broadcast or in rows three
or four inches apart and a quarter of
an Inch deep. Draw the, lines for the.
seed rows along the edge ot a board
lying on the send bed, cover in the
rows and place the board over them as
you proceed, pressing the board down
on the earth to firm It. This Is one
of the essentials to seed germination,
and should always be observed. Wil
liam B. Cary, in Tribune Farmer.
The Farm Lawn.
Nothing so beautifies a dwelling
as to bo set In the centre of a well
kept lawn. There is no reason why
the famer and his family should not
enjoy the possession of an attractive
door yard, since every facility Is at
hand for grading, planting and keep
ing a pretty lawn. The dwelling
should, If possible, be located on a
slightly elevated knoll, but often the
slto has already been selected and
tho building erected in which case it
may be necessary to grade thedeslred
elevation. One can not endure a low
sloppy door-yard, hence tho ground
Immediately around the house should
be higher than that at theouter edge
of tho yard. Early spring is the
best time to sow the grass need. Ken
tucky bluegrass 13 a general favorite
for lawns. This should bo very thick'
ly sown to produce a mat the first sea-,
son. If, however, one succeeds In get
ting a fair, even stand, he need have
no concern regarding the lack, of densi
ty as this grashs thickens up from
year to year. In arranging the lawn,
have very few shrubs or trees in the
center. Theso should be planted at
the outer edge, preferably at the roar
and sides of the building. Do not
obscure the view from the roadway,
If there are unsightly buildings a
screen of vines run on a wiro trellis
will be found effectual In hiding them
from tho occupants of the dwelling
as well as from passers-by. A very
pretty effect may bo had by planting
a few beds of profuse bloomers of
different colors very near the house,
at the ends or side of the bay window.
Provision may be mado to have these
beds in bloom from early spring to
late autumn, by using bulbs for varly
spring blooming, annuals for summer,
and chrysanthemums, cosmos and
other. autumn blooming plants. Their
beauty is enhanced by the greenery
about them. C. 13. Barrett in the Epl
tomlst. Hog Notes.
Get nil t.iat you can out of the feed
that is given to the pig,
nono is wasted, as well as
proper combinations
In.
"iajjald tlJioesX
itS-luilufow
a pound more per day by this slmplo
plan.
Crude petroleum, as it runs from
the well, is one of the best and cheap
est remedies known for hog lice, ap
plied with ordinal y watering pot.
No danger of pushing your pigs too
fast, if fed on well balanced ration of
bone and muscle as fell as fat forrj
ing material.
Provide amplo bedding unlor a good
shelter for your hog3 In winter. It
will save you corn and make them
moro comfortable and Insure better
healih.
Milk and bran will grow a thrifty
pig with a good frame, and then a
short period fed on grain food will
soon make It ready for market.
Modi rn butchering practices in the
pork packories has been reduced to
such a science that nothing now of the
hog is lost but bis squeal.
In winter it is quite beneficial to J
warm the slop fed your hogs, as they
can drink more and will thrive better
on it.
Free exercise for hogs developes
muscle and frame and adds to the
value of the pork.
The sow's milk Increases in quanti
ty each succeeding year until she is
three or lour years old, and old sows
are nearly always good sticklers and
careful with their litters.
Crowding nothing but corn into
hogs from time' of birth to maturity
is unnatural and will result disastrous'
ly nearly every time.
When the male Is used too young
In breeding, it will make dim steep in
the ramp, narrow in the loins and un
dersized. In selecting the sows, it will be well
to remember that the dam Imparts
to her offspring the feeding capacity.
It Is not olways best to choose the
finest appearing ones, or those who
have the most compact forms and
finest bone, but rather the heavier,
coarser boned animals, indicative of
power to assimilate a large quantity
of food. Sod th Agriculturist
The Milky 8ea.
Of the many sights witnessed in the
ocean of the globe, one of the most
curious and most weird! is that de
scribed by sailors as "the milky sea,"
ships being surrounded for several
hours by water that appears to be of
snowy whiteness. - Compiled from ex
periences recorded during the last 70
years, an interesting account of the
phenomenon is given on the North At
lantic and Mediterranean Pilot Chart,
published by the Meteorological office.
The spectacle Is restricted : to the
darkness of the night and rare occa
sions, and while it is limited mainly
to the warmer waters of the tropical
belt it appears to be more common in
the Indian Ocean than In the Atlantic
and Pacific. From the white water
tbe light is so strong that ordinary
newspaper print can be read on board
ship, but the scene all around la of
an awe-lnsolrlng description. The
horizon Is blotted out, sea and sky
seem to become one In a sort of uni
versal luminous fog, which, like a
London fog, robs the observer of the
sonso of distance and direction, the
dock being lit up with u ghastly sha
dowless light. Last June, off the west
coast of South America a bucket of
the white water emptied back into
the sea resembled molten lead. This
curious sight has interested scienti
fic investigators, but, while it is, no
doubt, .related to the mnov phosphor
escent disnlaj-8 common at soa, there
!s no sufficient explanation forthcom
ing of this particular manifestation
er of the singular atmospheric ciTac.tr
resulting from it
Bea"ii ty
A SEBM0N FOR SUNDAY
AN ELOQUENT DISCOURSE ENTITLED,
"NEED OF A REVIVAL."
fhHeT. Dr. Philip S. Moxara Says That
We Rtquira a Fre.h Conviction of U
Knallty of BMvation Too Hut Ab
wrptloa In tho Famuli of RlehM.
Brooklyn, N. Y. In Plymouth Church
the Rev, Philip S. Moxom, of Springfield,
Mass., preached Sunday morning. Dr,
Moxom'. subject wm "The Need of a Re
vival." He took hi) text from Habikkuk
iii:2: "0 Jeliovali, revive Thy work ih tin
midst of the years; ir. the midst of the
years make it known; in wrath remember
mercy." Dr. Moxom said:
In times punt, when the church was in
low itnte of religious vitality, the more
spiritual of the members, distressed by the
nosenee of vigorous life and burdened by
the condition of the multitude who were
kmked upon as lost, sought a ttvival of
re.iejon. They sought by prayer, earnest
and long continued, to deepen their own
experience of divine grace; they sought by
communion with others of lika mind and
by mutual exhortation to increase their
Zeal in the service of God; they sought by
means of pungent and powerful preaching
to arouse sluggish Christians and awaken
careless sinners.
The "protracted meeting," as it was
calld, was simply a continuous series of
meetings for preaching and prayer and ex
hortation and confession. The preacher
wrought upon the consciences of men by
setting forth God's claims on them and
their neglect of duty. He wrought upon
the fears of men by denunciations cf the
imminent danger tmd certain and terrible
punishment of impenitent sinners. He
wrought upon the hearts of men by vivid
presentations of the love of God and por
trayals of the vast self-sacrifice of the Son
of God in making atonement for the tins
of mankind on the cross. Often, if not al
ways, much was made of the physical uf
fenngs of Christ. Much waa made also of
the material pains of perdition.
An important accompaniment of the
preacher's work was the work of private
visitation and appeal, and the testimony
of religious experince. Men told, with
astonishing frankness, their sins, their
doubts and fears, their repentance, their
self surrender and their joy and -peace in
the conscious experience of pardon, They
talked of God's dealings with them with a
familiarity that would be shocking, were
it not, on tho whole, eo reverent.
The result of these combined efforts of
ten was the awakening of a community;
the meeting house was thronged with hear
ers, many became alarmed on account of
their sins, backsliders were filled with
compunction aud reclaimed to their neg
lected fealty, the indifferent were aroused
and convicted and brought to a state of
deep contrition. There were numerous
conversions, and the testimony of the con
verts increased tlie religious fervor of be
lievers tnd produced conviction of sin and
desire of salvation in other unbelievers.
Considerable numbers were added to the
church, and for a time the whole commu
nity was raised to a higher level of relig
ious life, and in many instances to a higher
morality.
Usually, after a time, the" revival was
followed by a gradual relapse into formal-
ot reugious service, coldness of rehg-
merence co me nign
fol-
iauc feature
many generations a nel
200 vears. Thia nenod. e?
the seventeenth to the nineteenths
iea, was marked by great crises of religious
awakening. Notable among them were
those signalized hv the nsmea of KHwnrda.
Wesley, Whitefield, Summerfield and,
later, rinney and Moody.
That "revivals of religion," in what may
now be called the historic sense, did great
good cannot successfully be disputed; nor
can it be denied that they also did much
harm. On the whole, the good was in ex
cess of the harm. "Revivals" were in ac
cord with the religious ideas prevalent at
the time, and were a natural product of
those ideas. During their hectic existence
many individual men and women were
tronsformed from lives of wickedness or
vanity to lives of virtue and unselfish serv
ice to their fellow men. Reverence for
God was deepened and faith in God was
stimulated and nourished.
The evils were incident to the mistaken
theology that held supreme place in the
churches and largely supplanted the sim
plicity of the gospel of Christ. These evils
were very great, and the effect of them
still remains, though in diminishing- de
gree. Among them may be noted a talse,
or at least, mistaken and inadequate, mo
tive for Christian propaganda, a mischiev
ous separation between religion and mor
ality, an unnatural and feverish piety that,
on the one hand, became a morbid senti
mentuiism, or, on the other, degenerated
into a formalism not leas' real because often
it was not ritualistic.
Wrong ideas of God and Christ and sin
and salvation and righteousness and the
hereafter were rooted so deep that they
could be destroyed only by a criticism so
drastic that it haa seemed to tear up fun
damental truth of the spiritual life. A
kind of orthodoxy was established that
perpetuated, if it did not create, opposition
he'ween nature and providence, science
una nun, me Dusmess of life and the in
terests of the immortal soul. It produced
an artificiality of life which stimulated self
deception and hypocrisy, and gave great
opporUaity and scope to tht bigot. Much
of the irreligion of to-day, or what is rath
er undiscriminated called irreligion, is
simply reaction, though often unconscious,
from the unreality of yesterday.
At the present time an attempt is being
made to restore the revival methods ol
but century. Organizations have been
formed the more efficiently to prosecute
this attempt. In the nature of ths ease,
the attempt will fail. It will faU because
if ia not in accord with prevailing idea of
re hgion of God and man and their mutual
relations and of human development and
destiny. The principle of evolution has
overthrown, not the truths, but the struot
nral principles and the elaborate theory of
the old theology.: The new biology , has
made necessary a new theology, and a new
theology ia already diffused in the atmos
phere of the common thought.
But I paak of this attempt bow not to
criticise it; I would rather welcome it if it
contained any promise of real good. I
peak of it particularly because it indicates
and emphasizes a growing feeling that all
11 not right with the church and society to
day, ana the deepening surmise, if .it is
not yet generally a conviction, that ws are
in great need of a true revival of religion..
No one can justly criticise, the present
life of our country without recognizing and
confessing that it present to tha view
very many features which awaken feelings
of gratitude and hope. Charity was never
so abundant and wise. The morals ot tht
average business man were never better.
Laws were never more humans and just.
Polities were never less corrupt. Tht ben
eficent enterprises of tht Cbiwtian churob
ia ill the world were never so intelligent
and sympathetic and efficient. Whatever
abatement we must make, because of cer
tain obvious and perplexing facte, theat
propositions are. in the main, true.
On the other hand there i an ahorbin
devotion to the pursuit of riches. Tht
haste to be rich is likt an epidemic fever.
There ia an exaggerated appreciation of
mere materiality. This widely affect com
mercial and ind'iatrial enterprise. Many
corporations strive, by attempted monop
oly, to increase profits already large, or, by
combination ani the promotion of vast
schemes for further consolidation, seek ta
turn paper securitit-s into money. Many of
these scheme, in effect, if not in intention,
are fraudulent. Labor vniona, overstep
ping their legitimate purpose of protecting
it boring men from oppr.wion and securing
for the in a just share of the product of la
bor,' are seeking to create a labor oligar
chy and to extort money from employers
in excess of what many industries can bear,
and limiting the opportunities of the un
skilled for entering the ranks of skilled ar
tisans. Fraud, bribery, extortion, and even
blackmail have become startlingly common.
Society is full of unrest and discontent
because of the exuberated timstt put
upmi material pnsi hmn. Side by sniff
With C- it f". nt!':t!HnrsS in til? pUV(!t nf
TV; !; "C iv, (i 1 I f Ti-t Of r '-J,V "O
for UaUI!'
creasing luxury and aelf-indalgence. Tli's
i reproduced, in varying degrees, in every
stratum of society, from the most to the
least weilithy. There ire also, apparently,
an increase of irreverence for what is sa
cred, an indifference to tradition that
amounts sometime to contempt for long
established principles, and a growth of
race prejudice and selfish passion mani
fested in frequent eruptions of furiou or
cynical lawlessness. Religion, confounded
with dogma or ritual, is held by many in
little esteem, and the church is neglected
by thousands who once gave it their sun
port and by thousands more who, in the
natural course of life, should'be among its
supporter!. In the churches there is a
lack of apiritual fervor and a decline of
faith in God.
I think that I have not mis-stated the
actual conditions. With no taint of pessi
mism in my mood; on the contrary, with a
high appreciation oC all the rood in the
present life of our country, I am forced to
the conviction that there is great need now
of 1 revival of true religion. What does
this mean? What ia the religion a revival
of which we need? It is a great and con
trolling sense of God, as the Creator, Sov
ereign, Father and Saviour of the soul.
The nineteenth century was distinguished
by the emergencies of a new and deeper
sense of the worth of man. This dramatic
ally began in the upheaval of the French
Revolution. It was manifested in tho
growing demand for popular liberty, in the
rise of the workingman, in the extension
of political suffrage, in the development of
popular education, in the rapid growth of
the Sunday-school, in the spread of tho
missionary spirit, in a new care for chil
dren, in prison reform, in tho breaking
down of religious exclusivencss and the
tyranny of dogma, and in many other
way. The twentieth century calls for a
fresh awakening of the sense of God as the
source and law and goal of human exist
ence, both individual and social.
We need a reperception of the reality of
God in the world. Avowed atheism, tjie
positive denial of God. ia rare; practical
atheism is common. Many men have not
God "in all their thoughts." They have a
widened idea of law in the universe, but it
ia vague and impersonal. They need to re
alize afresh the integrity of the divine gov
ernment. There is a divine government of
the world a government that makes for
good and against evil, that is the founda
tion and source of all just human law. that
is the ground of individual and social re
sponsibility and that rewards righteous
ness and punishes wickedness.
This sense of God as a sovereign m"?t
be vitalized by the sense of God as the In
finite Person. If I seem to limit the di
vine Being by using terms that are prop
erly applicable only to finite being and hu
man modes of thought, it is to be said
that the term personality does not neces
sarily imply any limitation. We must think
of God under forms of our own rational
and moral being, and our very nature de
mands the answer of a divine person to
the persistent and illimitable needs of the
human person.
For 1 time many have last the personal
God in impersonal law and impersonal
force. The divine immanence is grasped
in a way that excludes the complementary
ide.i of transcendence. There cannot be
real transcendence without personality.
The being who thinks and wills and loves,
even in finite limits, is greater than an im
personal universe. Man is greater than
God, if God be only law. But he craves a
deity whom he can revere and trust and
love with all the force of personal being.
As the mind needs and demands tho fun
damental conception of unity in order-to a
erpretation ot the worm; as
ioeeds and aemanas me
inviolable law, so
the con-
msive
nrovn
munion with HuTliiirili" ihssm" .IJII W-luna
must have vivid meaning as expressions nf
reality. The rule of God is in and over the
soul, a well a in and over the material
world, and thia rule is the manifestation
of God as the Holy Spirit.
We need a renewed sense of the rca'ity
of revelation as a past and present commu
nication of the divine will to man. A mere
historic God ia remote and ineffective. IIo
must be contemporary. If He Bpoke once
He must still speak; not in ways of thco
phany and miracle, but in ways that aro
authentic and authoritative to conscious
ness. This does not invalidate historic
revelation, but it clears it of error and con
fusion. Jesus represents and embodies
both. He knew the historic revelation as
it waa expressed in the life and literature
of the Hebrew people, and in some meas
ure formed Hi thought on its disclosures
of the divine nature and will. But He
knew also its defects and limitations, and
He knew God immediately, a man may
legitimately and naturally know Him, b
cause He is God' child. So there is nerd
of new sense of Jesus as man in full com
munion with God.
Finally, we need a new sense of the re
ality of the soul. Once men ignored tho
body, save as they indulged or abused it.
We have come to appreciate its importance
and to care for it in eountless ways, but it
bulks too large on our view. It is not an
end, but an instrument. The soul is in nn
organism, but is not it nor a mere afflu
ence from it. The soul is the man. Per
sonality is the crowning fact. It moms
knowledge, power, character, immortality.
If man is only a cunning organism lm
need and asks ifo immortality. Hut, 1 e
eaus ht ia a person a spiritual being,
with' power to think anil will and love,
with memory and forecast, with unmeas
ured capacity for Joy and sorrow, with a
sense for truth inn righteousness and (;.. 1
-in his best moments ho requires imn .;
tality that he may have scope adequate to
his consciousness of power, actual or at
tainable; and he takes his hungcr4)r it as
God' assurance that the promise of pres
ent txperienc will have fulfillment in the
future. In his baser momenta, having cx
bntd hia hodv bv labor or by dissipa
tion, he longs only for rest from weariness
oi nerves ui tuc vj.uj v. ..- .
immortality haa no charm, and-belief in it
sink into a doubt and often into a denial.
It i not science, but subjection to sensa
tion till it rales us. that breeds the do.ibt
of immortality. When we live ot the high
er planei of ohr being we feel the, real sig
nificance of life, and catch glimpiies of its
far stretching horizon.
Tht reality of God as sovereign on.!
father, tht reality of revelation aj a past
and present experience of divine communi
cation, the reality of lalvation as a fu'iill
ment of life, ind the reality of thcsoul as
tht imperishable pcrsoa these, freahly
seea and felt a tht great and permanent
element of human experience, will nc.v
create the august and commanding tense
of duty, dissolve and dissipate the mater
ialism which degrades our nature ennoble
life by giving it a new value, revivo lb
spirit of prayer and worship and put new
energy into ill our moral enterprise. It,i
our shallowness, or utter want, of spiritual
lift that rob u of power md joy as chil
dren of God. '
TUB STORY OF TUB LAUREL.
Apollo, the god of tbe sun, was ia
love with a water nymph. Her name
was Daphne. 9b did not love Apollo,
and when she saw him she would run
away and hid In the bottom ot. the
river. One day when she was roam
ing thorugh the woods far from her
river she met ApolkA She ran, but
could not run as fast as Apollo. He
was gaLilcg on ber all the time, so
she stood still, as she could not run
any more. Whllo she was standing
still she wished that rather than
have Apollo touch her shewould be
come a Hamadryad (a flower nyinpt).
She wished so hard that she felt her
feet take root, her hands branches,
her fingers twigs and her alr leaves.
When Apollo reached the spot Daph
ne had been standing on, he saw
nothing but a laurel bush. Daphne'
wish had come true and she was now
a laurel bush. And Apollo, to show his
'ove for Dajt.ne, ever after wore a
wreath of lnurl on his head. Atigif
f ,, in r:' : .' i 1 'f.
PANTOMIME FAIRIES.
How They Learn the Difficult Task of
Ballet Dancing, i
Nobody has the least Idea of what
(raining for pantomime means until
a visit has been paid to Mme. Lan
ner's school of ballet dancing, says the
London pally Mail. There dancers -ranging
In asc from sweet faced tiny
mites of 6 to beautiful women whose
ne;e one will not be ungallant enough
to think about, dally and patiently go
through a course of training, acquiring
steps arid deportment that later OB :
will be seen at the Garrlck, Vaude- t
ville, Empire, Alhnmbra and else
where. . v ..
Mme. Morris, ona of Mme. Lannor'S
teaihers, told the writer that a fin- .
lahed dancer is the product of many
years strenuous work. A child of I .
can learn to dance well In a tew
months, but to arqulro the grace and
agility of t!is finest of the Spanish .
dancers now performing in London re
quires twenty yeas of unremitting
practice.
There nre very few boys ever train
ed as pantomime dancers. The reason
Is that the male sex Is awkward, -their
joints are hopelessly stiff, and '
thev can njvcr bono to aspire to..
anything ot a higher :k-ie-than-sBj''-;i'k-V
ilancinK- H is oho of the prettleaV m
sights on earth to watch a score or
so of little gjrl.! assi-inblo In the dim
ly lit room where Mine. Limner's class
u are held.
llue mirrors aio arranged round the
Lwttlls, a piano :-i.ii:iis in a corner,.
but seldom K'ts played, because for a
loir; time the rovlce has to practice
mulling luit sie;.-i to a monotonous
one, two. thro-, uur. five, six, seven,
clsht. bo;.l" spoken l.-y the teacher.
"All ze girls please toguzier!" com
mands niadp.M". and proi.iptly tiny tots
of (J, mid !,,;, ( rul young women ot
It! or s:i, all ;;arbed iO a girl in short,
white luuslin skins, pink sashes, and
tights, grip with one hand a rail fix
ed lo tho wall. ext"inl the other arm
on a level with their shoulders and
deftly kick their bauds seven times
in succession.
Watch tin- children and one sees
that, they thoroughly enjoy the train
ing. Every ntnvcmc-.it of the first, second,
third, and fourth positions, under
which headings the various steps are
grouped, lias been s-:l u ilicil by the lit
tle oaes. a.;.l ea-h member of tho
class endeavors to give to her Individ
mil rendering b
e.ious movement
of the w hole bod,
iViany of I lie
slaiel oil I heir le
lii ih- (lancers can
. and pirouette like
with modesty, ele
tops, and then,
gance and (use, go down until their
knees almost touch the ground, rising
up agaiu with a graceful wave of
the hand and a sunny smile.
deness to the Ilmos a
series of ovorriuTS-ttKia. Kuncthrough
with first one leg, while the whole"
weight of tho body rests on the other.
The positions are reversed every few
mlnutos, and in this manner both
limbs receive equal ait-mtton and ob-
tain cqmil mipnlem sc.
A watering-can plays a prominent
part In a ballit chus room. It would
sCem that tho thousands of steps In
dulged in have a tendency to raise tha
dust and bring about an epidemic of
coughing. Therefore, a llttlo judicious
sprinkling at intervals has the effect,:
of allaying t'''s-
Safety in the Philippines.
A white man throughout the Philip
pines is aa safe in 1 raveling or living
a.s In Arizona or Colorado or Montana-
He may go about with perfect freedom.
Nut onlv that, but tlie people
ready "und anxious to show him hos- a
pitality. The Filipino from whom ho ...
asks n nisiht's lodging feels highly
honored, and gives him of Ills bst
The men salute'liir.i as he passes, and
tho children cry "Buenas dias," and
arc very proud if thnir salutation is
returned. Among t'uo wild people, the
situation Is much the same, although
hero It is better to send notice, of
one's coming in advance, and to bear .
some sort of credentials.
To llustrate the situation, the work
of the provincial treasurers Is Instanc
ed. Each of these (they,e ;U-Afh-
erirans) is rcquiraeJp(,hlB business to ,
visit every puebfoof bis province, and ;
such u trip may involve hundreds of
miles of travel overland on horseback
or by carroniata. So far as known,
no treasurer has ever been molested, .
although he often carries much money
about him. The provincial supervis
ors, also Americans, are obliged to
travel everywhere, as are many other
civil officers of the government. At e
tho present time, Americans- are all
over the Islands on otio errand or an
other, publia or private.. - No 6i
thinks of danger or provides against
it. Henry Oannott, in the National
Geographic Magazine. . .
' The Saltnesi of the Dead Sea.
What makes the Dead Sea salt is a
question that bos been' discussed for
centuries, and tlie most recent explan
ation is that advanced byWilllam Ack
royd, who assigns as tht most Impor
tant cause the atmospheric transporta
tion ot salt, from the Mediterranean
Bea. . Previously It has been assumed
that the ealtness ot this historic body
of .water waa due to the soil and rocks,
which, it is now thought, would not be ,
able to furnish the amount retiulrod, ;
and that the Dead Sea was onco a, part
of the Bed Sea, which had be61r-M off
by the'rislng of Palestine ftnd eoncen
trated by evaporation, a hypothesis
which Is pot supported by facts. Ac
cording to Ackroyd's theory the winds
blowing from the Mediterranean would
bring rain charged with salt, In poof
of this it is stated that the proportion
of chlorln to bromln is tlie same in the
Dead Sea that. It Is in the Mediterrane
an. Harper's Weekly.
- A Wise Choice.
Mr. SlapWhat is tho Becret c f
Glldihoy'a success?
Miss Bang Why, he knew a f l l
who spends a thousand a year on In r
dresses. .
' Mr. Slap Ah, I see. Ho ninni i
her.
Miss Banc Oh, no, he married 1 r
dressmaker. "
It has ten found that the M
all t,I e nuns of tl new 1
I'lin- e .f Wa!" , s- '