THE FRAN-KLIN PRESS.
VOLUME XIX.
FRANKLIN. N. a. WEDNESDAY. JUNE 22, 1904.
NDMBEU 25
A 80NQ
The sky was sflush with an eager Joy
O'er the mountain! steady and
atlUi
, Aglow with glory, the golden went,
The south was ,a rose on the moun
111 1 tain's breast,
(Is the heart of age as the heart of a boy,
I-nFhat a man should yearn for an Infant's
toyf.
Tet love must have her wlllI)
Katharine
IIHIIIIIIiM Illllllll
ROMANCE OF
tTHHmtvttlllllllltHHIIHIIMMMHIMIIMvT
We were all sitting on the piazza,
except those of us that were swing
ing in the hammocks among the trees,
the sea wind was blowing ever us, the
birds were darting low here and there,
and the bantams and the spring chick
ens and the big black Cochins were
watched over by old King Charles,
who redeemed us from vulgarity, and
It was a scene of domestic comfort, as
Aunt Helen said. Aunt Helen, by the
way, became a very pleasant addi
tion to the comfortable appearance of
the scene, as she said it She was just
as plump as a woman ought to be when
her next birthday may be her totn. hne
had a soft flush on her cheek, where
the dimple was yet as fresh as when
she was a girl, and the flush deepened
sometimes Into a real damask; her
teeth wero like rows of seed corn for
whiteness, and her eyes were Just as
brown as brook water; only her hair
that was quite white. Lovely hair,
though, for all that; she parted It
evenly over her low, level forehead and
above the yet black eyebrows; and we
all declared every day of our lives,
that Aunt Helen was a beauty.
'1 used to be," she had replled;4"but
that's all gone now. I have put my
youth behind me."
Perhaps she had. But we young
folks used to think differently when we
say Mr. Thornton coming up the road,
and Aunt Helen's eyes resolutely bent
on her work, but her color mounting
and mounting, till the reddest rose
that ever burned In the sunshine was
not so rich. Mr. Thornton saw It, too,
no doubt, for he always looked and
looked Intently all the way by. But
the truth was I shall have to tell you
all about It If I tell you any that
when Aunt Helen was 20 years young
er, she and Mr. Thornton "had been
lovers ever since they could remem
ber. They had built their house aj
last, and her wedding dress was Made.
If she was a beauty, he waa.HtJry Inch
her mate I know ho was", because he
Js today one of the jean It doss you
godtf-&Js?e. yQ lQoJcas if they could
bold up the worlj if need be, and in
spire you with confldonco In their
powers.
Now, whay1 " 'yd" sup
pose that, v lrnlshed,
and the cakuoien years
"of tntlnfffte aftecTJoTTto bind them,
Aunt Helen and Mr. Thornton found to
quarrel about? She declared she
wouldn't keep hens! And he declared
that he wouldn't keep house! That
.was the whole of it, to condense the
statement; one word led to more, and
finally, in a towering passion himself,
be told Aunt Helen that she had better
team to control her temper If she did
not want to be a vixen entirely, ami
Aunt Helen took the ring off her flngrr
and laid it on the table without a word
and sailed out of the room, and refused
to see him when he called in the morn
ing, and sent back his letter unopened,
and cut the wedding cake and put
some of it on the tea-table and sent
the rest to the fair. Perhaps, on the
Whole, Mr. Thornton might have been
right. Exactly one week from that
night Mr. Thornton was married to
iMary Mahew. an inoffensive little body
Who would have married anybody that
asked her, and she went into the house
that bad been furnished according to
'Aunt Helen's taste; and immediately
'afterward a ben-house of the most fan
ciful description of .architecture, with
Igllded vases and scarlet chanticleers
bristling all over It, roses on the hill
behind the house, full of fancy fowl,
and the little lawn was all alive with
Its overflow, and you couldn't go by
the place without meeting a flock of
cropple-crown or partridge Cochin,
or white Leghorn, or black Spanish,
flying up on each separate piece of
.fence to crow out Mr. Thornton's tri
umph, reversing the old tradition of
the crower, and crying, "No women
rule here!"
They saw Mr. Thornton grew very
old in a few years. His Inoffensive
!!ttle thing of a wife turned out to be
a smart termagant, who led him a
pretty dance. Perhaps she was dissat
isfied with her piece of a heart; but
then she knew that was all when she
took it H,e treated her always very
gently perhaps feeling be had done
her some wrong In marrying her and
gratified her every wish, although,
having cared nothing for her In the
beginning, It Is doubted If he cared
any more for her In the end. The end
came after 18 years, when Mrs. Thorn
ton was killed In a railroad collision,
ana her husband was left with four
children on his hands; rude, noisy, ill
faring cubs, as all the neighbors said.
If Mr, Thornton had ever impatiently
chanced to think that his punishment
had lasted long enough, be thought
now It was just beginning, when he
found himself alone with those chil
dren. He wondered that hli wife had
any tempi left at all. He grew more
bent, more vexed, and worried every
day, and one would hardly have rec
ognised, people said, the dark and
splendid Stephen Thornton of his
youth, In the middle-aged, gray-haired
man; and yet, to our eyes, he was still
quite remarkable-looking person
perhaps more so from our associating
him with the poetry In Aunt Helen's
life, and making him an object of won
der as to whether or not they would
ever come together again.
But there was little chance of that
We had met Mr. Thornton elsewhere,
but be had never come across our
threshold since the day he went out
with his bride's ting. And Aunt Hel
en's peculiarity was that she never
forgot ' Could she, then, forget the
words he spoke to her In his anger?
Could she ever forget his marrying an
other woman In teas than a week? ft
had been in that week and a few fol
OF SUNSET.
When the. rose had bWned to a patient
thA Mat was nonr and cold.
8trong, softly steadfast (tho' night be
drear I) ., .
The veiled blue hills wore a valiant
oheer.
(For having Is better than hope, they
say; ' '
And who shall grieve, that, at olose of
day, -
A young love oame to the old 0
Pearson Woods, in Harper's Magazine.
A BARN-YARD. '
lowing that her hair had turned white.
She had suffered inexpressibly; she
had not slept a night, but she kept
up a gay face. Perhaps she would
have suffered if It had not been for
our growing up about her. Her life
was thus filled, every minute of it;
she had but very little time to be lone
ly, to brood or mourn. She forgot her
self In us. It gave her a quiet happi
ness, and kept her comely. And then
she was , too proud; whenever the
thought thrust up Its head, she shut
the lid down, as one might say, and sat
on It
But one day after the time when the
doctor had said Harry Was a hopeless
cripple, and must lie on his back the
rest of his life Aunt Helen brought
home a little basket from the county
fair, and took from the wool within
it two of the cunnlngest mites of chick
ens you ever laid eyes on.
"I hate them," said she; "they make
me crawl; but they will amuse the
dear child. They're African."
And so they did amuse him and do
light him, as he lay on his lounge in
the bay-window and .watched them
growing up, full of business. And that
was the way, by the way, that we came
to have chickens round the front piaz
za. One night, a year after, when the
bantams were quite grown people,
somebody dropped over the fence a
pair of big black Cochins, that stalked
about as If the earth was too good to
tread on, or as If they were afraid of
crushing the bantam with the next
step. Of course, we knew where the
Cochins came fromfor nobody else
In town had any but no one said a
word. Only It was sport the next da
to peer round the corner aha' see Aunt
Helen, wltb a" niece of bread In her
hand, ,"n doubt whether to have any
thing to do with those fowls or not,
twice extending her hand with the
crumbs and snatching It back again,
and at last making one bold effort, and
throwing the whole thing at them, and
hurrying Into the house. But from that
moment the ever-hungry Cochins
seemed to regard her as their patron
(mint. . She never appeared but they
came stalking gingerly along to meet
her, and at last one made so bold as
to fly up and perch on the back of ber
chair, on the piazza. Of course he
was shooed off with vigor with a lit
tle more vigor perhaps because Mr.
Thornton had at that moment been
passing, and had seen this woman who
would never keep hens presenting the
tableau.
It was two or three days after that
that Aunt Helen, coming home at twi
light from one of her rambles by the
river bank, was observed to be very
nervous and flushed, and to look much
as If she had been crying. '
"It's all right," said our Ned, coming
In shortly after her. "I know all about
It I've been setting my eel traps; and
what do you think she met old Thorn
ton "
"Ned!"
"She did. Indeed. And what'll you
say to that man's cheek? He up and
spoke to her."
"Oh, now, Ned! Before you!"
"Fact! Before me? No, Indeed; I
lay low," said Ned, with a chuckle.
"But bless you, they wopldn't have
seen me If I had stood high.'
"For shame, Ned! Oh, how could
you and Aunt Helen!"
"Guess you'd have been no better In
my place," said the unscrupulous boy.
"But there, that's all. If I could listen,
of course you can't.
"Oh, now, Ned, please!" we all cho
rused together.
"Well, then. He stood straight be
fore ber. 'Helen,' said he, 'have you
forgotten me?' and she began to turn
white. 'I have had time enough,' said
she.
"Oh, you ought not to have stayed,
Ned!"
"You may find out the rest by your
learning," said the offended narrator.
"I should like to know bow I was go
ing to leave. Only I'll say this, that
It Aunt Helen would marry old Thorn
ton today she wouldn't touch him
with a walking stick!'
To our amazement, on the very next
afternoon who should appear at our
gate with his phaeton and pair, but Mr.
Thornton; and who, bonneted, and
gloved, and ve)led, should Issue from
the door, to be placed In the phaeton
and drive oft with him, but Aunt Hel
en! Ned chuckled; but the rest of us
could do nothing but wonder.
. "Has Bhe gone to be married?" we
gasped. And Lll and Harry began to
cry.
"Well, I'll' tell you," said Ned. in
mercy. "He said there's sever been a
day since he left her that he hadn't
longed for what he threw away."
"Oh, how wicked!"
"She told him so, very quietly and
severely I tell yon Aunt Helen can
be severe and to be silent on that
'Forever?1 said he. 'And ever,' said
she. It Is impossible said he. And
then he went over, one by one, a
dozen different days and scenes when
they were young; and If ever a fellow
felt mean, I was the one."
"I should think you would," we cried
with one accord.
"Now look here." returned Ned. "If
you want to hear the rest yon keep
that sort of remark to yourself. It was
too late to show myself, any way. And
111 be blamed If I'll say another word
If yon don't every one acknowledge
you'd have done Just as I did." -,.
. "Oh, Ned. do tell the whole. That's
a good boy."' . "' :-'.. r':---? ;
Well, she Just begin to cry I nev
er saw Aunt Helen cry before. And
then It seemed as if she would go dis
tracted; and he begged her not to
cry, and she cried the more; and he
begged her to marry him out of hand-
I know just how to-do It now; only
It doesn't seem to be a very , successful
way and she shook her head; and he
Implored her by their old love, he said,
and he wiped her eyes, and she looked
at him, and gave a laugh1 a hatefut-l
sort of laugh.
" Then,' said he, "'If you will not for
my sake, not for your own sake, then
for the sake of the motherless children,
who need you more than ever children
needed a mother yet and who who
are driving me crazy t and then Aunt
Helen laughed in earnest, a good,
sweet, ringing peal; and the long and
short If It Is that she has driven up
to the Thornton house today to look
at the cubs and see what she thinks
about them. Maybe she'll bring ti.ein
down here she's great on missionary
work, you know."
"Well, I declare!" was the final cho
rus. And we sat In silence a good h ilf
hour; and by the time our tongue
were running again. Aunt Helen had
returned; Mr. Thornton bad come In
with her, and sat down upon the piazza
step at her feet but not at all with the
sa step at her feet, but not at all with
the air of an accepted lover much
more like a tenant of Mohammel's cof
fin, we thought And as, I began to tell
you, we were all sitting and swinging
ther when Aunt Helenexclalmed about
Its being a scene of domestic comfort.
As she sat down the big black Cockle
hen came to meet her, and Aunt Helen
threw her a 'bit of wateroraoker, a
supply of which she always carried
about her nowadays.
"Why! whore's your husband?" said
she to the hen.
'There he is," said Ned. "He's been
up alone in that corner of the grass
the whole day, calling and clucking
and Inviting company; but the rest
liaven't paid the least attention to
him, and are picking and scratching
down about the cannas."
"Oh, but he's been down there twice
Ned," creld Hsrry, "and tried to whip
the little bantam, but It was a drawn
battle."
' Well, he ought to have a Ittle va
cation, and scratch for awhile," said
Aunt Helen. "He has picked and
scratched for his hen and her family
all summer."
And so's the banty." said Ned. ' The
bantam's the best; he's taken as much
care of the chickens as the hen has.
any way; and he never went to xwi
once all the tlnw his' hen was setting.
Jfr. Thornton, but sat right down In
the straw beside her every night"
"A model spouse," said Aunt Helen.
"They are almost human," said Mr.
Thornton. And so we sat talking till
the tea-bell rang, for Mr. Thornton was
going to stay to tea, he boldly told us;
and we Baw that he meant to get all
the young people on his side by the
way he began to talk to Ned about
trout and pickerel, and about leepsea
fishing; but when he got to eel -traps,
Ned's face was purple, and he blessed
that tea-bell I fancy. However, Mr.
Thornton might have found that It
wasn't so easy to range the oung
people on his side. It he had made a
long-continued effort We enjoyed a
romance under our eyes, but we had
no sort of notion of his taking our
Aunt Helen away.
We were Just coming out from tea,
and were patronizing the sunset a lit
tle, which was uncommonly fine, and t
thought I had never seen Aunt Helen
looking like such a beauty, with the
rich light overlaying her like a rosy
bloom, when John came hastening up.
"I just want you all to step Inside
the barn door with me If you please,
marm," said he. Ahd we went after
him to be greeted by the sweet smell
of new-mown hay, and to be gilded
by the one great broad sunbeam swim
ming full of a glory of motes from door
to door. "Do you see that?" said Johu.
It was a flock of the hens and chick
ens on their accustomed roosts. "And
now do you see that?" he said; and" he
turned and showed us, on the top rail
of the pony's manger, the big, black
Cochin, also gone to roost hut sep
aratelyand his wife beside him? No,
but little Miss Bantam!
"That's who he's been clucking and
calling to this whole afternoon, the
wretch!" cried Ned.
"And now look here," said John; and
we followed him Into the harness
room, where the chickens had chanced
to be hatched, and there. In the straw
on the floor, sat the disconsolate little
bantam rooster, all alone, with his
wings spread and his feathers puffed
out brooding for four little chickens
under bis wings the tour little chick
ens deserted by their mother.
"I declare! I declare!" cried Aunt
Helen, as we came out into the great
motey sunbeam again; "the times are
so depraved that It has really reached
the barnyard. The poor little banty
and bis brood! Why, It's as bad as s
forsaken merman!"
"Only not so poetical," said we.
"Helen," said Mr. Thornton, "It's ex
actly my condition. Are you going to
have pity for that bird, and none for
me? Are you going to leave me to my
fate?" And In. a moment, right before
us all, as she stood In that great red
sunbeam, Mr. Thornton put his arms
round Aunt Helen, who, growing jsier
and rosier, either from the sunbeam or
something else, could do. nothing at
last but hide ber face. "Helen," be
Bald, "you are certainly coming home
with me?" And Aunt Helen did not say
no. Waverley Magazine. .
The Yangste ftlvers Rapid.
Lieut Somerville of the British navy
recently related the following in an
address before the Royal Geograph
ical society: "The new rapid of the
YangBte was formed In 189. ' The
land slipped In after the heavy rains
and filled up the bed of the river. No
one up above knew anything about It
and -as the Junks were coming down
BOO were wrecked In a whirlpool at
the toot of the rapid. The story is
that It was the work of a dragon. , A
friend of mine Ferdinand Tyler was
sent np there by the Chinese govern
ment and he tried to exorcise the drag
on. This landslip, so it was said, bad
been formed by the dragon turning
over In bla sleep. Mr. Tyler tele
graphed to ask permission to begin,
They telegraphed htm the first of all
the ancient methods must be tried to
see If the dragon could not be moved,
and then, If ho would not move, west
ern methods night be attempted. Well,
the dragon would not move and Mr.
Tyler started with dynamite and shift
ed a bit of the river.
A SERMON FOR SUNDAY
AN ELOQUENT DISCOURSE ENTITLED,
"LIFE'S ASSETS."
The Iter. Dr. Arthur H. Ooodenooa-h
Talks InitraeMvc'y en tha Inflalt
Possibilities Thai ar la MM-WW
We Naed to Kin.
I
H,
Corinthians iii:21, 22, 23: For all things
are yours; whether Paul, or Apollos, or
Cephas, or the world, or life, or death, or
thinn nresent. or thins to come: all are
ntl
yours, and ye are Christ's and Christ
God's." Dr. Goodenough said: ,
Man aspires. His eye is on the sky.
Man was made fo wn'.k erect. His impulse
is te climb. This fact indicates his des
tiny. The earth beneath us and the world
about as contribute to our flight, but they
offer na no home. The world, so near to
as and so essential to our present life, has
its limitations and fetters. Man is impa
tient of limitations: he aspires to the in
finite and the intinite is always above us.
The nobler man's nature the more rest
less and determined is he to ascend. No
philosophy of life is true that fails to rec
ognise this instinct of the soul. Man de
sires more room, more room is above, and
above is something that attracts and
draws. That fact is man's salvation.
It is generally believed that man had his
origin in God. God is the root from
which. all men have sprung. It is equally
true that God is the complement or man
and his goal. How noble is man. - What
infinite possibilities are in hirj. Man is not
a waif, aimlessly wandering through a
trackless wilderness, nor an orphan minus
a parent's gui ling hand and tender voice.
Man's origin and destiny ore one. It is
God. If your five year-o.d boy is in need
he instinctively cries, "My father." If he is
in trouble he as naturally cries, "My
mother." Instantly the complement of his
needy nature is at hand. Father and
mother are to him all that he needs. We
are only larger children, with larger and
more imperative needs. Is ihere any help
for ns? We have outgrown the ability
'ofur earthly parents to help ui. What
shall we do? As the thirsty ox turns to
the babbling brook, we turn our eyes to
the heavens and say, "My Father God,
help me." And quicker thin thought the
help comes. Here we have the philosophy
of happiness and the secret of success. As
witnesses to this fact we call to the stand
Augustine, Bernard, John Howe, Isaac
Watts and Charles Wesley.' The upward
look wins. The man who aspires to God,
and holiness, and immortality is the one
to whom this text is spoken. "All things
are yours: for ye are Christ's and Christ
is God's.''
The thing that wise men are thinking
about is life. Bread and acres and dollars
are only incidental. God made the. acres.
God's JurmrrYiW saj sftmrerr grew the gram'
from which the bread is made. God fur
nished the material to make the dollar.
Therefore, acres and bread and dollars are
good because God had something to do
with producing them. These sra valuable
contributions to life, some of our life
values. Lite itself is worth more than all
of them put together. Tho man who cul
tivates your farm is worth irmrc than the
farm. The man who builds your home is
worth more than the house. We are not
paupers. No man, woman or child in this
world need be poor. There arc other values
beside dollars. We are heirs to untold
riches. Our heavenly Father;"" the unseen
capitalist, has invested largely in us, and
He is no spendthrift. He has put the
value where it may multiply. Life is a
feeble thing at the beginning: so is the
acorn, but in the acorn is ths massive
oak; so is the bulb, but the bulb contains
the tint and perfume of the lily. So life
as we see it in the babe, it contains a
Kepler, a Newton, a Gladstone, a 11c
Kinley. Characte. is a result, a product. Charac
ter tells the story of our conduct and in
dustry. Character is .the fruitage of our
thinking, our willing, our loving, our doing.
And character is the man. Character de
termines one's value to himself and to so
ciety. This is what makes biography the
popular literature of our day. People in
terest people, Biography is death to pes
simism. Thousands of men and women
have succeeded in life. They have feasted
on the universe and enjoyed the infinite,
and the books tell us how they did it.
My young friends, the one thing in this
world for you to do, is to follow their
example. You may. Character is no ready
made thing; it is made to order. It means
Slan and purpose and persistence. You
o not have to make the machinery nor
the material; these are furnished. The se
lection of the web, the feeding of the loom,
the weaving of the cloth is ours. The re
sult is character, and character is destiny.
This if the work of life. Human chances
are not equal. Circumstances favor some
more than others, No doubt of it. But
then every man has a chance, aye, more,
every man has a probability of success.
There are possibilities of failure, and manr
seem to fail, but there is no excuse for
failure. Oh, horrible, heartbreaking woid
is failures May none of you ever know
What it means. There is a way of escape
from it. Make a right, not to say, best,
Use of what is in you, wisely appropriate
what is about you, give reason the rein.
Enthrone conscience. Be religious. And
every step will be an ascent, every act the
advance of the soul, and the enrichment
of being. All things are yours to do with.
It was never easier to be good than
now. Perhaps it is never easy to be good.
What makes it essier to be good to-day
than it was yesterday? Ths multiplicity of
helps at hand. To read some newspapers
and to hear some speakers, -one would
suppose that nobody was good. The fact is,
the world is full of good people. What is
goodness? Not the muttering of a creed
nor the repeating of a prayer; not the
reading of the Bible nor going to church.
Good people do these things, but these
things are not essentially goodness. Bad
people may do them, too. Goodness is
consideration for the other fellow, sweet
ness of temper, gentleness of conduct, noble
ness of purpose, love to God and man. It
is to Hve kindly and truly and well. It is
like the Christ doing good every day and
everywhere. "lis u the goodness that
counts in our day. And ws rejoice to be
lieve that it is constantly on the increase.
Goodness is true religion, and true religion
is goodness. The two are inseparable. It
is a eolturing, refining, elevating process.
It is ever makine for the best that life is
capable of. What God wants tor His chik
dren is .us best. The desire of Uod is
human, ha-winces. To this end He is pa
tient and indulgent. He is prodigal in
gifts. He is ever lavishing His love upon
us. God is neither mean nor little. Ha u
the great Father, giving Himself for the
salvation, the enrichment, the perfect hap
piness of His children. Uod is not the au
thor ofpain. He takes no delight in
tears. The blessed Saviour ceases not in
His age-long effort to. make the sons of
earth happy. The law of the universe, the
design of everything is happiness. Happi
ness is everywhere. Wander in the woods,
walk in the meadow, meander by the
stream, rest in the valley and climb to the
hilltop, and in everything and everywhere
you will find happiness. It springs up like
a well of life, filling the air with its'
music, flooding the earth with its joys.
How much more does our heavenly Father
desire yon, His children, to be happy. The
only condition of happiness is to be good.
"Blessed are ths poor in heart, for they
shall see God." Holiness of life maketb.
rick and tendeth not to poverty.
To the untutored, this looks like an ira
oossihle thins, and many ask: "How can
I do this?" Easy enough. All that Is
needed is the disposition, and the effort.
First of all, look at your bank aooount.
Did yoa know yon bad a bank account?
Well, yoa have. Bee, please, what stands
to your credit, the gift of another. Theas
assets are ours because we hve in the
twentieth century, and because we are
Anglo-Saxons. All things are yours.
Whether Paul or Apollos, or Cephas, or
the world, or things present, or things te
coroe; all are yours: and ye are Christ's
and Christ is God's. ' That is a wonder
ful statement, It places us under tremen
dous obligation. What aa incentive to
attempt something, what n inspiration to
noble achievement. The great personalities
of history Paul, Cephas, Apollos. Past,
present, future. The world, God and
Liu ii. t, all yours, to male ,S goal and
win. Then there can 63 83 Hens for '
failure. , I
A nractical nneation which meets ns la.
"How may I utilize these many gifts of
God for my own advancement and better-'
ment?" The answer is. "By right appro
priation.". Just aa the parched earth
drinks in the gentle rain drops, making the
gross to grow; just as the be sips the
honey from the fragrant flower, so we must
learn to appropriate the good in every
thing, to our own growth and refinement.
Life everywhere is sustained by appropriat
ing the outward to itself. The great in
tellects which teach and bless the world
to-day are great and capable because of this
appropriation of knowledge. To the good
be.ongs the best of two worlds. It was
once thought that the Christian's world
was exceedingly limited. The Bible.
hymnal, a long sermon end a dreary prayer
meeting were all that the Christian had
any right to. Anything else would chill
his fervor and narrow his vision and
tarnish his soul. Thank God, that day is
so fsr behind us. To-day we know that
everything within reach and everything
within sight is ours, if we love God, to be
ued in the advancement and enrichment
of our lives.
Look st it a moment. Take an inventory.
Try to itemize the blessings of the good
God. Explore the world of art, the product
of the centuries, it is ours, for God msde
the beautiful. What a store house of les
sons snd inspirations and soul delights are
the art galleries of the world! The win
dows in cathedrals and churches have for
ages been telling the story of Christ. "The
Nativity," bv iirne-.Tones, is the pride of
England; "the Transfiguration," by Raph
ael, the glory of llaTy. These are but sam
ples of tho beautiful in art, which arc ours
lor the delight and culture of the soul.
All sciences a id literatures belong to us,
for God is the Author of all truth. Shakes
peare and Booth and De Reszke, these
and the host of others like them, are ours
to charm away our cares and rest of mind.
The marketplace crowded with the yield of
the field, the wealth of the mine, the prod
uct of the factory, is ours, for God is immi
nent in nature and industry and human
skill. The advance in surgery and medi
cine, the limitless pleasures in travel all
this is ours, available and usable assets
to make life rich and happy and good.
All this is the product of the past, the
gift of the good God. Its presence should
shame badness out of existence. How can
people be bad when they think of the
f;oodness of Uod r wast are we doing witn
ife's assets? They are the raw materials
fur of which we may weave the soul's ser
aphio robe; they are the steps by which
We ascend to the home of perfect day.
They are to our spirits what air and dew
and sunlight are to the seed. Plants
grow by appropriating things ab extra to
their use; souls grow by doing the same
wsy. The business of life is to convert
sll these forces snd gifts into life and
character. The soul must drink in its
full of God and rise to the perfect life in
the endless day beyond the stars.
. What we need to know to-day is the
proper useNjf things. That means study,
the exercise Oj. the mind. Others have
studied and thougAvt for us. The result is
the locomotive, earring us sixty miles an
hour; the electric wire, hy which we talk
to a friend 1000 miles awiay. If wealth
is to benefit the owner of it A he must use
it and uae it wisely. So, if we'jtre to feel
the stimulus and reap the benefit oi the
accumulations of the axes, as life's assists:
if these are to answer their need, in flNi I
maKing oi a man ws must stuuy ana
think and pray. In the right use of these
is the making of a holy character.
All that has been said is, we believe,
true. But it is not the whole truth. Ws
must go a step further. Man has heart
conditions and soul needs, which neither
nature, nor science, nor Scripture, can
meet. Man needs a God. God is every
where. God is in the sunlight which
bathes us every day with its warmth and
glory. He is in the bread which we est;
He is in the music which comes floating
through the air, making the heart to dance
for joy. But this God is too vague, too
Vast, too impersonal, Can this God be
personalized? It is Ucd's eternal purpose
to adapt Himself to the limitations snd
heeds of His children. We do not think
of God merely as Power, or Majesty, or
Holiness. God is Love. Love is the win
ning thing, Love conquers. Love is bent
on drawing home to the Father's hoart all
His wayward and lost oneg.( The humsn
heart cries for God. What kind of a God?
Not the God of the atheist, not the God of
the Deist, not tho God of the narrow
theologian, but the Eternal God. And
Jesus Christ hss revealed Him to the
world. This Jesus Christ and this God
are ours. Ihis completes the list. There
is nothing more that can be added. Flow
ers, pictures, music, ships, railroads, tele
phones, philosophy, science, religion, hu
msn fellowships, friendships, loves, plus
God and Christ. All are yours. Don't
complain of poverty any more; never bo
afraid of failure; never again say "I can't.'
Goodness does not mean exemption from
the common ills of life. Every life has its
burdens, every heart has its own secret
sorrow. We would not minimize the cares
which are inevitable. They are not joy
ous, but grievous. Many tears are shed in
the nrivate chamber. Manv feet are trend
ing lonely paths. And blessed be God, our
neaveniy rattier Knows it all. The Uhrint,
the Saviour of Men, is touched with the
feelings of our infirmities. All the love of
the Deity,, all the power of the Almighty,
all the compassion of the Lover of Souls,
is for us. Look, up, then. Be o' good
cheer, lis better further on. In com
pany with the Saviour, nothing can harm
us. The path of the good is as the shining
light, smning more and more unto ths
perfect day.
"Loose me from en rth's enclosure, from the
sun's
Contracted circle set my heart at large;
Eliminate my spin', give it range
Through provinces of thought yet unex
plored; Teach me, by this stupendous scaffolding.
Creation's golden steps, to climb to Thee."
Mo Triumphal Entry.
It is the irony of history thst Christ's
entry into Palestine is so often misinter
preted. To me there is hardly more bit
ter irony in the life of Jesus than to apeak
of His triumphal entry into Jerusalem.
The multitude came out to meet Him,
threw their garments and palm branches
in front of Him, and the people sang. But
what of the central figure? He aaw the
great city, and wept over it. What a con
trast was that with the triumphal march
of a conqueror. Bev. Dr. A. A. Berle,
fclem, Mass. -
The Only Standard.
Our churchman's life has paganism in
it. Nowadays many men are saying "If
a pagan is honest, pure and true, why
should he need religion? Outside of the
Christian life there is no standard of right.
Christ is the only etandard.--Bishop Wil
liam Lawrence, Episcopt 'ian, Boston.
POSED AS A QUKJN.
A silver-haired American woman la
till living who posed for many a day
as the Queen of England. And the
sUll recalls with a shudder the bur
den of forty pounds of royal clothes
which she wore for so many Weary
hours.- Shortly after the coronation
of Queen Victoria the Society of St.
George and St Apdrew of Philadel
phia commissioned Thomas Bully to
paint a portrait of the Queen In her
coronation robes. The artist went to
England, accompanied by his daugh
ter Blanche, a young lady of eighteen
summers. ' The Queen received him
gracloiMly and aat for htm till the
head was finished. She then relin
quished the task to the artist's Caugh
ter, who sat dressed In the Queen's
robes for many long day. Mr. Bully
received 10,000 for the portrait and
Miss Blanche was made happy by an
autograph fetter from the Queen and
the present of a diamond ring. , - 'r.
No woman is alwava right and 10 wot
,! ' 6i),-1mu4 il aiws.- wiona,
REVOLVER'S ROMANCE
ORIGIN AND DEVELOPMENT OF
THIS AMERICAN FIREARM.
The Story of Col. "Jack" Hays and
Col. Colt Their First Meeting In
a New York Gunshop, Where 'the
Taxes Rsnger Placed an Order for
the New Invention.
There la a romantic side to wea
pons of war that is as Interesting as
any In our national history. The ori
gin of our purely American arm, tho
Colt'B revolver, furnishes an Instance
that will illustrate this. It seems
perfectly adapted to American fron
tier conditions. It has given Its skil
ful wielders victory on many a well
fought Held. And this Is why Its rise
and development should be a part of
our country's military history.
In the '30's we were enlarging our
national boundaries In the southwest
For a long time It was an up hill
fight Not only the Mexicans, but
the Comanches and Llpans un
equalled warriors and daring horse
menharassed and raided the scat
tering frontier settlements and towns
along the Texas border until It really
appeared as If the entire scheme of
the settlement of Texas must go down
in blood. But the men who had start
ed In to do this work were not of the
quitting kind. They were of that
Tory-hating, Indian-ngbting Btock
that obstacles did not daunt nor dan
gers quail. And they set th'olr teeth
hard and swore they would stay. To
guard their frontier thoroughly and ef
fectively they organised bands of
companies of Rangers, under officers
who could not only fight Indians and
Mexicans but control and discipline
their own army. Among the ablest of
these commanders Col. Hays better
known as "Jack" Hays was Incon
testably the ablest. He was a born
leader of men just such men as were
then peopling the great southwestern
frontier. In stature he was about 5
feet 8 Inches and never weighed over
150 pounds.
Some time In the middle thirties,
about 1835 or 1836, Col. Hays was di
rected by the governor of Texas to go
to New York and purchase suitable
arms to equip his troop. He had then
about 150 men, but they were not uni
formly armed, and lacked equipment
suitable for a mounted command.
Tboy, about all, carried a rifle and a
pair of pistols of various patterns.
They needed to be equipped alike,
and with the very best weapons that
were available at toat time.
Sir, -fa 5edlence to his orders
with a letter otVjedlt on thoi
urer of, tho Toxan republic,
passage in a schooner for New York,
But he did not find anything that he
had not seen before In the way of
firearms. One day, however, a gun
dealer said: "There Is a man living
over In New Jersey at present that
has just Invented a pistol which I
would like to have you see." "What
is there about it that makes it differ
ent from other pistols?" asked Col.
Hays. "Well, this, for one thing: It
shoots six times without reloading."
Col. Hays's interest was Immediately
aroused. "Indeed, I'd like very much
to see It," said be. "Very well, then,
I'll have him In here with It tomorrow
about this time," responded the deal
er. So the next day the man came In.
He .was about thirty years old and a
gunsmith chiefly by trade, though he
did all sorts of work In fine steel.
He said he had just concluded an or
der for sabres of officers for the regi
ment of dragoons Just then being
raised.
"This is my pistol, colonel," said
he, opening a case and handing the
weapon to the Texas colonel. They
took tho model pistol, which was
about like the Colts pocket arm of to
day In size, calibre and weight, and
the expert fired all six barrels In less
than a minute. The arm came up to
Hays's expectations In all respects.
He took the model to Texas with him
and submitted . It to his Rangers.
When It had been thoroughly tested,
they ordered 100 of the pistols and
fifty of the rifles. The latter were
so constructed that when the cylinder
was fired it could be slipped out and
another cylinder, already loaded, put
Into the arm in one time and two mo
tionsthat 1b, in thirty seconds.
Shortly after the troop had been
armed with these new weapons they
were tried In a sharp fight that Bet
tied the question of tbelr superiority
over those of their Indian and Mexi
can antagonists once And for all.
Reception to Canales.
About 600 or 700 Mexican and Co
manche and Llpane Indians crossed
over Into Texas under the leadership
of Canales, a noted "raider" from the
other side of the Rio Grande; and
with a herd of about 1000 head of tat
beef cattle, and perhaps 500 head of
mules, were making their way back
Into Chihuahua, where Canales had, a
fine ranch and lively In princely style.
He-was one of the richest men In
northern Mexico and the ablest sol
dier In that section. The S00 lancers
with him charged Hays's men fear
lessly. Hays let them come on until
they Were In good - easy range, and
then opeed up on them with his fifty
rifles. After the first volume TJanales
thought he had the Americans foul, as
he dashed at the little band of Intre
pid Rangers, commanded by Ned
Burleson, ono'of Hays's most trusty
lieutenants. Crash! crash! crash I
went the rifles. "Per Dlos! what
sort of a rifle have these Americans
got?" they shouted to one another, aa,
leaving the stolen cattle and about
one-sixth of tbelr command dead or
badly wounded on the ground In the
hands of the dreadful Americans, they
struck out for the. Rio Grande and
the other side. It was soon reported
all along the border that los' Ameri
cano had a dreadful rifle, that they
used by magic of some sort, which
would shoot ss long aa they wished
without reloading. Canales offered a
great reward for one . of these new
guns. He was a well-educated ' man,
and realised at osce that the Ameri
can had some sort of arm that Wat
not generally known, and was vastly
superior In rapidity of fire and reload
ing to anything In use. . It was nearly
two years, however, before he could J
get his hands on one of them. Col.
Samuel Colt had pledged himself not
ti funih'h his new arm to any but
r --aaU
Americana, and men who would not
suffer It to get Into the wrong hands.
The United States army, particularly
the three mounted regiments thss In
service the First and Secon l Regi
ments of Dragcms and the Mounted
Rifles -were quipped with Colt re
volting pistols as soon as the Ord
nance Bureau of the War Department
could be persuaded to adopt' It
Washington Post
BABU FOREN8IC ELOQUENCE.
Astonishing Orstory ss Reported by
an American In India.
An American traveling In India has
supplied me with the following sample
of Babu forenslo eloquence. He vows
that he heard a Bengali pleader make
the speech In a case in which there
were cross-summonses for assault:
"My learned friend with mere wind
from a teapot thinks to browbeat me
from my legs. But thlB is mere goril
la warfare. I stand under the shoes of
my client and only seek to place my
bone of contention, In your honor's eye.
My learned friend vainly runs amuck
upon the sheet anchor of my case.
"Your honor will be pleased enough
to observe that my client Is a widow,
a poor chap with one post-mortem
son. A widow of this country, your
honor will be pleased to observe. Is
not like a widow of your honor's coun
try. A widow of this country Is not
able to eat more than one meal a day,
or to wear clean clothes or look after
a man. So my poor client had not
Buch physic or mind as to be able to
assault the lusty complainant Yet
she has been deprived of some of her
valuable leather, the leather of her
nose. My learned friend has thrown
only argument 'ad hominy' upon my
teeth, that my client's witnesses are
all her own relations. But they are
not near relations. Their relationship
is only homeopathic. So the misty ar
guments of my learned friend will not
hold water. At least they will not
bold good water.
. "Then my loomed friend has said
that there Is on the side of his client
a respectable witness, viz., a pleader,
and since this witness Is Independent,
so he should be believed. But your
honor, with your honor's vast experi
ence, Is pleased to observe that truth
fulness Is not so plentiful as black
berries In this country. And, I am
sorry to say, though this witness is a
man of my own fathers, that there are
In my profession black sheep of every
complelon, and some of them do not
always speak gospel truth. Until the
witness explains what has become of
my client's nose leather he cannot be
lleved. He cannot be allowed to
e In the air by beating op
ting In that admlnls-
Ice on which the
sunh lose my case."
London Trui
QUAINT AND
It Is only necessary to boll a cork
for five minutes to make It fit any
bottle.
Engaged lovers in tho Canary Isl
ands find it difficult to exchange
sweet confidences, an the young man
Is not allowed to visit his fiancee In
her home.
A policeman told a Greenwich (Lon
don) magistrate that the prisoner
"came up to him anil asked him to
hold a lamppost til he went past, as
it kept moving."
The Japanese are noted for long
noses; therefore they are considered
a mark of benuty. A Japaneso girl
with an unusually prominent nose Is
considered a bello.
Tho most popular stockings In Pa
ris just now. are those made like a
glove, with a separate compartment
for each toe. It Is said they prevent
corns, and easo them If they already
exist.
In Japanese prisons tho punish
ment known as water torture 1b often
resorted to. The prisoner Is confined
In a closet too small for him to stir.
While he stands, water, one drop at
a time Is allowed to fall from a fau
cet on bis head. Few persons can en
dure this punishment , longer than
four days.
Sulfate Nosesl
Obviously ther must bo some kind
of character in a nose, as there is in a
mouth or In those tell-tale features of
the face, the eyes. But It would be
unwise, surely, to judge a man entire
ly by the length or breadth, the thick
ness or thinness, the Inclination up
ward or downward of his nose. And
seeing that men are already consider
ably less numerous than women In
the United Kingdom, the noses of suit
ors must certainly not be allowed to
stand In their way, unless of course,
they take the hopelessly dangerous
twisted form for which, apparently,
no extenuating circumstances can be
found. :-A good rent roll, fairly de
cent antecedents, and agreeable man
ners may balance the flippancy which
the upturned nose betokens, and the
same considerations may be safely
weighed '.against the melancholic
drooping nose. But of course, having
been warned to find In the noses of
the opposite sex the key to the flaws
In their characters, every woman will
henceforth detect moral delinquen
cies, never before suspected. In every
man she meets.' London World.
Why People Stammer. -Stammering
depends on a want of
harmony between the action of the
muscles (chiefly abdominal) which ex
pel air through the larynx and that of
the muscles which guard the orifice by
which It escapes with that of . those
which modulate the sound to the form
of speech. Over either of the groups
of muscles by Itself a stammerer may
have as much power aa other people,
but he cannot harmoniously arrange
their conjoint action. Nervousness Is
a frequent cause' of stammering. It la
possible that the defect In some In
stances may result from malformation
of the parts about the back of the
mouth. The fact ' that stammering
people are able to ting their words
better than to apeak them has been
usually explained on the supposition
that In singing the glottis Is kept open
so that there Is less liability to spas
modic action. V' ,!"
rti ii . sit
RU88IAN POPULAR SONG. '
In my trans-Balkallan home upon ths
Zmlebogmiptqvsworskl, -
With my brother Dlmetrillsklorbmeo
vltoh I used to play;
And our cousin Petroplanztravm from
Djargauioguvinzszoskl
Oft would oome to visit us and spend
the day.
Ah, those happy, sunny hours of our
childhood!
How I weep to think that they will
oome no more;
For in ruins lies the borne within the
wildwood.
Far away upon the Zmiehogsmiptqvz-,
woraki shore.
Oh, the moon is shining bright upon the
Zmiehogmiptqvzworski, ......
Where the oatlish browses on the new
mown hay;
Through the szczyamores the candle
lights are gleaming,
On tho banks of the Zmlehogsmip
tqvzworski far away.
Counoll Bluffs Nonpareil.
JUST FOR FUN
Judge I fine you ten dollars. Pris
oner Don't you give any discount to
regular customers?" Town Topics.
"Anything new about the war?"
"An unofficial dispatch has lust been
confirmed." Chicago Record-Herald.
Biffins That was a great Joke she
played on her husband. Sniffing
What was the Joke? Biffins Her
mother. Baltimore News.
"Are your Intentions toward the
widow serious?" "Oh, very. I am go
ing, if possible, to get out of marry
ing her." Life.
"Experlenc, yon know. Is a good
teacher." "Yes, but I wish there
were more vacations In that school."
Chicago Post
"Did Jerrold get anything out of his
rich uncle's estate?" "Well, rather
he married the daughter of the attor
ney for the estate."
"Did you ever tako a chance ia Wall
street?" "No," answered Mr. Aii
luc; "I put up my money several
times, but I never got a chance." .
Washington Star.
Brown Don't get gay, or I'll be
forced to pound a little sense into
your hoad. Green Huh! It would
take a dozen men like you to pound
any senso Into my head." Chicago
News.
"And do you think," he asked,
"that men progress after death?"
"Well," she replied, "if they don't It
would almost seem useless for some
of them to die." Chicago Record
Herald. 1 yumiirnantlvi What do yOU .
n"fin, WlVlM.jLJh'iTl'iln' four.
post? If the enemy should appear you
would be lost Sentinel Don't wor
ry, major. I haven't an enemy in the
whole City. Fllegendo Blatter.
"That walking delegate sacrificed .
his health In the cause of labor." '
"Did, eh?" "Yes. He always rode,
never walked, drank nothing but
champagne, smoked forty-cent cigars,
and soon got an Incurable dyspepsia.":
Judge.
Their meeting: She (flushing expec
tantly) Fred Smltbers. as I live! -Poor
fellow It saddens me to think
how broken up he was over my r "
fusal. He (wrinkling forehead)'
Where In thunder have I seen that
woman before? Brooklyn Life.
Precautionary measure: Mrs. Newed
(a bride of six weeks) And how-i
will you be away, dearest? Mr. Newed
About ten days. Mrs. Newed Well,
I think I'll learn to cook while you are
absent Mr. Newed That's a good
Idea. And I'll take the dog over and
leavo him with one of the neighbors.
The laundress' little daughter had
been allowed to peep Into the dining
room where the table was set for a
dinner party. "And, mamma," she
said later, "every plate bad two forks
by It What was that for?" "You
don't know tho way of your betters,
child," replied the laundress; the ex.
tra fork Is In case they drflp one!
the floor." Detroit Fre Press.
Belle to Pauper.
Early risers passing by the Rue de
la Chine, In La Vilette, that home of
misery, often meet a bent shrivelled, -white-haired
old woman, carrying a
basket en her tpvck, and In her hand a
stick with an Iron point to it -i -
With the stick the searched the rub
bish heaps deposited by householder! .
for the scavengers to carry away. Bhe
prodded and scrutinized her way along
the silent streets, turning over an old
shoe here, a bit of rag there, or cigar
stump, or rusty nail, and tossing her
treasure into her basket The tad
faced woman took notice of no one. :
But the people of the quarter, and
of localities more fashionable, knew -that
"the mother of the chiffoniers"' ' 1
otherwise ragpickers, as those are call
ed who make their living by searching
the rubbish heaps had teen better
days.
Mme. Andre had once a "de" to her
name. - Her visiting cards had once
borne her family crest She had fig- ..
ured at the Court of Napoleon III.
and the Empress Eugenie, and there '
waltzed with the best of them. In her
garret In the Rue de la Chine Mme.
Andre hoarded the wreck of her for-"
tune, about 600 pounds. It was hidden
In her mattress. - ......
Returning home the day before jetst
terday from her customary rounds, Ma
dame Andre found the mattress torn -open
and the money gone. A few hours
later her next door neighbors found
her hanging by a cord dead. Paris
Correspondence In London News. -
Requires Time. . .,
"Mildred, What brings that young
man to the house to often T"
"Well, hit mother's stepfather mar
lied a second cousin of my father's
great-aunt We're trying to figure out
what relation that makes him to mo,
and that can't be done In one evening."
-Chicago Tribune.
- For the sustenance of its population
the Island of Malta imports about ',
000,000 worth of foreign product
tear,