HO
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MDMBEH 41).
VOLUME XIX.
FRANKLIN. N. Gi WEDNESDAY, PECEMBEK ?, 1004,
1! '"iL?-
I.
I
HOW AGGIE HAY
A Human Little Tale of a Sensitive Child, Which Contains
a Warning to Overzealous Parents.
By GRACE
iUUUUiUWWIUUlUJUiUiU
. I' 1-
- datura seemed holding her breath
tohlle hot sun shone relentlessly up
on a sleeping farm-yard. The hush
of hummer afternoon had settled
or the meadows and' over the or
chard. In the garden the Incessant
- buizlng of the bees seemed to mingle
with the very stillness and to becomo
part of it': '.Even the cows, tired of the
daisies and the buttercups, had sought
the shelter of the spreading trees, and
lay chewing their cud, their great eyes
looking Into space with almost Imbe
cile tranquillity. Peace, like an Invis
ible, yet eloquent, presence, had set
tled over everything. -
That is, over everything save the
' ellght figure of Aggie May, flung in an
. abandon' of misery beneath the apple
tree. Her small frame shook convul
sively with heavy sobs as they follow
ed op another with tumbling rapidity.
Ales! Aggie May was learning the hit
ler lesson of repentance. She was ex-,
periencing her first great emotion-
born of a series of emotions for In
her grief v'Ja mingled remorse, horror,
despair, misery and wide-eyed fear.- A
fear of something, she knew not what;
b complex element which had never be
fore entered Aggie May's varied ex-
- pertences of six years. :
Aggie May had committed a terrible
crime, and now she was reaping the
harvest : She knew it, because her
mother has told her so, and whoever
: . heard of a mother telling a He. If on-
, ly Aunt Mag had said It she thought
. there might have been a mistake, but
' her mother never!
i And how she had said it! Aggie
May's soils gained new force as she re
called her mother's cold face when
he had safd, "Aggie May, what have
you been doing?" ' -
And Aggie May could feel again the
. sickening horror of detection. , SI.e
surreptitiously put forth a small red
tongue, which swiftly made the circle
: about two full rosy lips to gather la
all telltale crumbs. . And then, secure
in her belief that she had well covered
her tracks, she had answered unblush
ing, "Nothing."
Aggie May's tongue was short, and
sugar has such an unpleasant way of
Sticking to fat baby hands and fat
baby faces.
Aggie . May's mamma's face grew
: harder still as she ottered these awful
words: " Aggie May, you will never
go to heaven. You are no child : of
mine. You have violated every one
of the' Lord's commandments. He has
told yon not to steal, yet you have done r
it; he has said you must not He, yet
you are doing It. Do you think he Is
"going to forgive you? No! He has pun
itaed you already. Come here.". ;
In fear and trembling awe Agg,le
, May stepped to ber mother's side. Mrs.
Sangster deliberately traced the out
line of a word on the child's brow,
: "Listen," she said; "this is what la
' written there. S-U-G-A-R. That spells,
- 'sugar,' Aggie May, you, have been
, stealing sugar?" ; - :
Aggie May stood confounded by the
- occult wisdom of her mother and a
Supreme Deity. Her little childish
soul thrilled with the horror and mys-
tery of Something she did not under
stand. . Why this suddenly fallen thun
derbolt; this swift retribution aimed by
an unseen hand?
" She had taken sugar before, hut
hut she had never been detected quite
in the act She thought that must be
it God hadn't discovered her before.
" It had only teen her mother; and her
mother wouldn't do anything so terrl-
ble as to write awful words on her
brow. - She remembered now how her
mother had said she was ashamed to
let God know what a wicked child she
was. Yes, undoubtedly tbnt must have
teen it But this conviction did not
. come suddenly to Aggie May. She saw
. It all much later through eyes blinded
by tears beneath the apple-tree. Just
then her mother's voice continued; :
"AJ1 your life you will have that
word 'written on your forehead. And
as yon grow older it will probably
deepen," she added, sadly." Certainly
Aggie May's mother realized the fear
ful extent of the calamity. Then she
turned and cruelly left the room.,,
Aggie May stood In a dazed stupor
tor merfont, then she hastily climbed
on a chair to look Into the' glr "s. She
would convince herself of what was
; there. But her baby eyes could see
nothing. - She rubbed - bor brow
thoughtfully with a fat forefinger, bufl
, the smooth velvet skin felt as, usual to
the touch.. Then Aggie May admitted
in her own mind that she was puzzled.
It was at this juncture that unt Mag
. came In, and uneonsclously settled
everything. She lound Aggie May with
a very sugary" ttouth and tearful eyeit
before the mirror In a minute her
town keen eyes bod grasped the situa
tion. ,
"Aunt Mag, "raid Aggie May, "wW
do you see on my forehead?" .
Aunt Mag looked straight -t Aggie's
May's mouth, an J then she said, Sug
ar." Aggie May's cca grew dark 'lth
horror. "Is It wiltten in very big and
black letters?" iitte asked.
: "Very big and black " answered her,
aunt. . ' ' - .
"Don't you fink It will ever come
off?" queried Aegis May anxiously.
"I should say not," answered her
aunt, "lt' so black." ,
Aggie May shivered. She slunly
climbed down from her chair, her Mt
legs hardly bearing the weight of lr
jrembllng body.
"Oh, Aunt Mag," she pleaded, tf,r
fully, "the dirt on my finger corned o!f
when 1 washed it yesterday. Don't yc J
reckon I can wash this off?" '. "'.
"I don't know," aald her .Aunt Mutf,
thoughtfully. "This is not your tnu,
you know; It's your soul."
"But you said It was my forehead,"
eaid AgRie May, with a gleam of hot'O.
"It nliln3 through," answered her
Aunt Mag. "If you want to rub it ftS
you'll hnvp to wash your soul."
Afgl? May turned her small tve
" toward the onea door. Hern was a
t (l. H m. She !' think. Where was I
WASHED HER SOUL.
3
3
SAUNQER,
- mUUtiUlllUlUiUiiUlllllJUR
, Out there in the garden and beyond,
everything spoke of the goodness of
God. Jt was only here in this room,
that a blackness brooded the black
words on a child's brow - shining
through from a child's soul, which
must be cleaned. With a little quick
breath of determination she raised her
small clenched flBt in defiance. Of
what! An unseen relentless foe that
hedged her In. Her mind was mado
up. She should defy God. She Would
wash her soul, '.f- -. f.
: She ran quickly down the path,
across the meadow, into the orchard.
Beneath the apple-tree Aggie May
gave way to the full horror of her mis
ery and despair. . How could she reach
her soul? Her hands moved restlessly
over her chubby body. Where was her
soul? She hid certainly heard It men
tioned before, but no one had ever lo
cated it exactly. It couldn't be in her
stomach, she knew that because hadn't
Aunt Mag said the blackness shone
through on her forehead? Certainly!
Of course! ; How stupid shs was! It
waa In her head, underneath her hair.
But how was she .to get at it? - . , "
Again the complication of circum
stances appalled her. Clearly the first
thing to do however, was to cut off
her hair. After that Bhe might scratch
a little hole right back , of the forehead
and get it out The operation sounded
painful, and at heart Aggie May was a
coward, She decided that to crop the
golden tresses might he - efficacious.
After that she would go down and hold
her head in the brook all day. Maybe
the water "would soak In. She started
back to the house. Obviously the first
thing to do was to get a pair of scis
sors and some soap.
Aggie May crept softly into her
mother's room. It was empty, with
her work-basket lying Just within Aggie
May's reach. She turned back to the
orchard triumphantly. By night her
soul should be clean ' , 1
Without regret without remorse, Ag
gie May snipped diligently at her gol
den curls the pride of her mother's
heart, the pest of her own. If soul
washing included the joy of lidding
one's self of long hair that would tan
gle, and would attract little boys like
flies to molasses, she submitted cheer
fully to the sacrifice. Nevertheless, it
was a very hard task to accomplish,
and Aggie May pricked ber scalp many
times during the process. But at last
she laid down her shears triumphant,
triumphant while at her feet lay a lit
tle gleaming mass like tangled sun-
hrMns. ,
Vhrough the orchard, over the mead
ow, into the cool darkness of the
woods Aggie May sped. The brook waa
deep In the heart of the forestand she
had never been there alone before, but
she knew theway. Under thedlmalsles
of quiet trees the child ran swiftly,
now in one direction, now another, un
til In a maze of bark and trunk she
stood, a great fear rising In her heart.
Where was she?
How long eho'-had wandered about
she could not tell, but the woods were.:
growing strangely still and black with
a solemn stillness and a brooding dark
ness that lent new strength to the
child's fast-falling - limbs. She was
hungry and the chill breath of the
forest was beginning to pierce her
thin cotton dress. ' She wanted her
supper and she wantel her mamma.
But she went oh determinedly. .- The
brook must be found. , ;a -:
; Mrs. Sangster stood at the door,
shading her eyes with her hand. "What
can make the child so late?'; she said.
Her sister glanced up from "her work.
"Perhaps she . has gone to meet her
father," she suggested.
There was a silence, finally broken
by Mrs. Sangster. "I haven't seen her
since nearly three o'clock, have your'
" Mag smiled as she suddenly remem
bered. "No," she said; "the last. I
saw of her she was making for the or
chard to clean her soul." '-;-.''
To clean what?" asked Mrs. Sang
ster. " ." ' "..'': v
"Her soul," repeated the younger wo
man. "Bhe asked me if I saw anything
on her forehead, and I said sugar. She
seemed quite awed, and wanted to
know If she could wash it off. I said it
was on ber soul, and she went out to
clean it, I fancy. 1 guess sheVlli
right" he ended, lightly, ? -
But -the 'mother was not satisfied.
Suddenly she caught sight o a figure
moving across the meadow. 'No." she
said; ."there's comes Abe alone, Mag,
something has happened to .Aggie
May.'" - ' v. --'
-, She started down the path, and her
sister rose,, and reluctantly followed.
She wanted to finish her sewing.'-The
child was probably all right and was
doubtless playing somewhere about In
the yard. It was tiresome of Flo to
make such a fuss.
Mrs. 1 Sangster answered only two
words. "AgglefrMay."
"Where?". He .caught her roughly
by the arm,, and she turned a white
face toward him.
"Gone," she whispered, and their
eyes met Even Mag fcH an electric
shock of horror, and wished she had
not been quite so hopeless about the
sugar.
"Since when have you missed her?"
asked the father, a tremor in his
voice. .
Mrs. Sangster shook her bead.
"I last saw her under the apple tree
at about three, I should say," answered
Mog. ,
The three hurried tc the spot, half
expecting to find her at play, It waa
Aggie May's favorite spot to retire to
play, to think or to pout All the
great crises of her life had been en
acted here.' But her swing hung limp
and motionless.,., -
Mr. Sangster turned to go, but his
wife suddenly called him back with
a piercing cry.
"Look!" she said. At her feet lay
a hnap of golden curls, and beside
then thrown upon the ground, law a
nair.'of scissors hw scissors.
- "llidlaiis," ;KifI Mn;c. tcmiln:'
-.).!:(..
"Gipsies," ventured thS - mother,
"On, Aggie May, Aggie May, where
are you?" she called, wildly, v
Mr. Sangster said nothing. vHe
stooped, and gathered. tip the handful
of golden hair, and crammed it in his
pocket:. " Then ho turned to his wife.
"I think, Flo," he said, gently, "you
had better go home. I'll look for the
child." There was a curious white
line about his mouth. ,
" "Whet! Go home when my child is
perhaps dying?"
'Then, mdear, como' quickly, for
I think we are needed."
- They crossed the meadow. In the
open space it was stlil broad daylight
but in the forest beyond the shadows
were already black.
"Mag," said Mr. Sangster, suddenly
turning to bis sister-in-law, "run and
rouse the men, and get lanternB. We'll
search the woods." " : . ""''
Mrs. Sangster shivered with fear
not fcr herself, but for her baby but
the two pushed rapidly on. Only to
catch .the fugitives befdlfd nightfall,
for they hid no doubt that the child
had been kidnapped.
. Suddenly the man stopped. In the
fading light something white hung to
an outreachlng bush. It was a scrap
of Aggie May's calico apron. " , "
, Mrs. Sangster caught It and kissed
it . Again Mr. Sangster stopped, This
time it was an open space of ground
under the trees, where no grass seemed
growing. He sank on his knees, his
face close to earth. It was the faint
outline of a child's footprints that he
saw. ' He searched In vain. , , There
were none beside them. -
He turned to his wife. "It looks
like she was alone." he said.
"What would she be doing in the
woods alone?" she asked. Then she
suddenly stopped. Acrces her mind
fleshed the conversation Mag had re
peated to her. She had -gone outside
probably to wash off the, sugar. ."The
brook!! she gasped, and they hurried
forward. ' . ...
They reached its banks, but all was
peaceful and serene. The water gur
gled and laughed In an abandon o(
glee; ' the current swept on until a
sudden curve in its course lost -it to
view. " --': - v-
'. ,"" III. "';: ;';
Meanwhile Aggie May's little feet
sped fast and . faster. The shadows
thickened. Hew quickly they fell amtd
the dense growth of the forest Ghosts
and goblins loomed fantastically be
hind each tree. " A sharp crackling
sound overhead made her crouch and
hold her breath In terror. It was a
dead branch falling at her feet . With
a nameless fear that choked her she
hastened on. Now she was speeding
through a wilderness of ferns, now
down fiat on the ground, with the sting
of cold, moist earth in ber face Now
she was running, flying past crackling
branches that stretched out like black
arms to held her.
"Hark! What was that?" A dragon
was hissing close beside her. She
sprang up and staggered on. ' Again
an awful sound. She crouched behind
a tree to listen. : Tinkle, tinkle. It
was like the ringing of fairy bells
or the murmur of water over a bed
of pebbles. '. It grew louder with every
step, but it seemed mere liko water
all the time. , Suddenly the trees be
came less dense, and the light grew
brighter as she neared the open space.
She stood In wonder, It was not the
fairies, after all. hue had reached the
brook, ' -
She knelt down beside it" 8he took
from her pocket the soap, and rubbed
It carefully on the spot just behind
her forehead, tier mamma would be
glad to see her without that' black
word on her brow. The little shorn
head ent low over the swiftly moving
stream, and she caught the reflection
of earth and sky in its -dancing rip
ples. Suddenly she reeled, the earth
slipped away, she felt the cold water
grip her, and then with a cry ehe
plui 3ed head foremost into the cur
rent , , . . v
Some Instinct of motherhood guided
Mrs. Sangster's foctsteps. The pound
of Aggie May's voice reached her faint
ly at first then louder, until it re
sounded through the stillness in fran
tic echoes. Following the sound, she
plunged ahead, and arrived just in
time to See a small hand flung out
wildly from the middle of the brook,
then speed onward.
It was not an heroic task to step
in and rescue the fallen child. Mr.
(Sangster waded to the middle of the
stream, and in a moment Aggie May
was In her mother's arms.
' Behind them, in the forest, lights
were gleaming like fireflies, and the
arched dome of the forest rang with
shouts of Aggie May's name. She lay
very white and scared," while the water
trickled down In little rivulets from
her Jimp arms and legs. Aggie May
flung a dripping arm about , her
mother's neck. "It was very cold,"
she said, nestling closer In the protect
ing arms, "and the water getted in my
troat, but I link it must have corned
off. They ain't no sugar on my soul
now.'Ms they, mamma?", " :. ' V "
And Mrs.. Sangster, with choking
voice, answered, "No, dear; your soul
Is very white nOw," -, : .;
Aggie May clapped her hands joy
ously. "I knowed It" she said. Then
a quick shadow passed over ber face.
"It must a' .been the soapthough."
she said, " "cause I wasn't in the brook
very long." Woman's Home Companion.
Chamberlain as a Dancing Mano
That the ex-Colonial Secretary can
waltz, says the London Tatler, will be
a surprise to most people, as one
would fancy dancing is an accomplish
ment altogether too frivolous for Mr.
Chamberlain to shine In. Two years
ago, however. Mr. Chamberlain when
staying with Lord and Lady Beau
champ attended a ball given by the
then mayor of " Birmingham, Mr.
Chamberlain danced several items on
the program. Including three waltzes
and a set of lancers, but did not at
tempt the polka. This Is probably
the only occasion in the past 20 years
that Mr. Chamberlain has taken an
active part in the ball room.
, Depend.
"How does It fpol to be knocho."
out?" they asled him.
"Well," said the drf. alt'd-pi
"if vp pit a third of tlio f'i' n":"
a -id the "eiit mil t !,.!'.. u !.:.'
v i 1 - -i i . t?
ALUMINUM INDUSTRY, ;
MANlFOLd Use 'of friii hi-
- MARKABLE METAL. 1
tor Three-Quarters of s Century It
Was a Scientific Curiosity At Last
, a Process Was Found Both Simple
and Cheap, - " v . vA'.'-i"
The history of the metal aluminum
and Its use In the arts Is peculiarly
Illustrative of the method of industrial
development aided and fostered by
scientific research, says the New York
Evening Post For three-quarters' of
a century the metal was a scientific"
curiosity, but the appearance of a de
mand 'for It - resulted in the almost
Immediate perfection of methods for
Its extraction, whereby its cost waa
so reduced as to make It available tor
common uses.
As long ago at 1807, 6it Humphrey
Dav Conjectured the existence of a
metallic element as a component of
clays and alumina. In 1828 a German
chemist Wohler, actually separated
the metal from its compounds, and
discovered, its remarkable physical
properties of lightness, toughness and
ductility.' But for more than 60 years
no use was found for aluminum, be
yont an occasional employment of
very small quantities in the construc
tion of scientific apparatus. At the
centennial exposition In 1876 a sur
veyor's transit made of aluminum was
exhibited, but Its remai'. ablo lightness
was even less astonishing than the
value plaeed-upon it aluminum was
then about six times as expensive as
silver. -
' Naturally, 'In the progress of engi
neering and invention that distin
guished the last quarter of the 19th
century, the attention of inventors and
constructors was attrac.ed to, the new
metal, and It was freely predicted that
much use would be made of It If Its
cost could be reduced so that It might
compete with cheaper materials of
structlon. Weighing only about one
third as . much as an equal bulk of
brass or copper, it resists most acids,
has a white lustre. Is an excellent con
ductor of electricity, and is possessed
of many other desirable qualities. -"Here,
then, was. the incentive to in
ventors, and many chemists set out to
discover a method for the economical
extraction of aluminum. : Its ores exist
in great abundance, common clay con
taining' a large proportion - of the
metal; but of all substances tao.-
very ores seemed most refractory end
least amenable to -chemical treatment
A number of processes of a purely
chemical nature were devised, but
none of them reduced the cost of pro
duction to such a point that the metal
could compete with steel and brass as
an element of construction. -
At last a process was found that Is
both simple end cheap. It was discov
ered that cryolite, a mineral found In
great quantity in Greenland, and con
sisting 'almost wholly of aluminum
fluoride, was easily melted, and that
In Its fluid state it dissolved crude
alumina as readily as water dissolves
sugar. A powerful, current of electric
ity passed through this molten mix
ture was found to extract the metallic
aluminum, and the process was also
seen to be regenerative; that Is, the
cryolite is not. consumed, out Is used
over and" over, the -molten bath be
ing supplied from time to time with
crude alumina. This material exists
in nature as a mineral, named bauxite,
after the town Les Baux, near Aries,
in the south of France, where deposits
of it are found. Vast beds of It exist
also In Arkansas and elsewhere In this
country. "-,,; , " '..
The smelting process Is of the sim
plest In an iron vat, about the size
and shape of an ordinary bath-tub, is
melted a charge of cryolite, a gas- fur
nace aupplylng the necessarjr, heat
When the charge is melted, powdered
bauxite Is stirred In, and an electric
current Is turned" on between cast-iron
electrodes immersed in the mixture.
The electric current furnishes enough
heat to keep the mass melted, and the
liquid aluminum collects at the bot
tom of the bath, whence it Is tapped off
from time to time. Once started, the
process Is continuous until the dirt
and impurities collected in the vat re
quire it to be drained and recharged,
Aluminum, extracted by this process
at Niagara Falls, at Kensington, Pa.,
at Foyers, In Scotland, and at nmner-'
oua establishments on the -Continent
of Europe, took its place in the arts
Immediately. As an element of Con
struction, however,' It did not meet the
expectations of its earlier advocates.
It was found to be difficult to work,
gumming the teeth of flies and stoutly
resisting cutting and drilling tools on
account of Its toughness. But new
uses at once developed. The German
army Investigated it and found that
helmets of aluminum, as light as felt
Would turn the glancing Impact of a
bullet Its military uses are almost
innumerable,., Besides helmets, but
tons, cookie; utensils, canteens, cart
ridge cues and clips, sword and bay
onet scabbards in short, almost all
metallic accoutrements are now made
of it The French government built
a torpedo-boat of it, but sea water at
tacks the metal, and it Is not believed
that it will And much use in marine
work. ' Notwithstanding, the blocks,
cleats and some other metallic parts
of racing yachts have been made of it.
It has been used as a substitute for
tinplate as a roofing material. Mak
ers of photographic apparatus and op
tical goods use It largely, and It Is
rapidly displacing tin as a material
for bottle caps, boxes for druggists'
use, etc. An extensive market for It
is furnished by makers of fancy goods,
souvenirs, medals and tokens, and toi
let articles, such as combs. ,
t But the largest use was found In an
unexpected quarte Aluminum his
62 percent of the electrical conductiv
ity of copper. Hence a wire about one
eighth larger in diamotor than a cop
per wire will conduct equally well,
and at the same time will weiRh leas
Shan half as much. At the prfuprit
nrifif of the nielnlg, aluminum Is con
siderably Ipsa costly, and' the lighter
wires way bo supported by poles
placed farther bi art than in m(o in
! case of con -r. .Vntiy pow r-
ford, Conn., where 2000 horse-power !
for. lighting-purposes is transmitted 11 j
miles frrini a waterfall , at Tarlftville. I
The CM'tflb lights at iiie fari-Amerl-
can exposition in Buffalo wef 4 fed
from' Niagara Falls, 20 miles .away,
over an aluminum line. - , 1
Steel making also, absorbs large
quantities of aluminum, the metal be
ing used as a deoxidising agent in the
Bessemer and Siamens-Mattln ' pro
cesses. At present the annual product
In- the United States Is about 7,150,000
pounds, ' and Increasing rapidly, the
selling price of the motel being so low
tbat-bulk tor bulk, ft Is the cheapest
metal produced, except iron, steel and
sine. As an example of an industry en
tirely developed' by scientific research,
aluminum production la of deep in
terest. The career of the metal as
an industrial factor is evidently just
begun, .
A TRIBUTE TO THE DOfl.
One of the Things That Gave Senator
Vest Fame as an Orator. '
Vest was a great debater and an
eloquent orator who was at his best
in extempore speech. His plea before
the Jury , in a case wherein one man
sued another for dsmages inflicted by
a dog's bite is famous; -
"Gentlemen of the jury, the best
friend a man has In the world may
turn against him and become his ene
my. His son or daughter that he has
reared with loving care may prove un
grateful. Those who are nearest and
dearest to us. those whom we trust
with our happiness and good name,
may become traitors to ' their faith.
The money that man has he may lose.
It files sway from him. perhaps when
he needs It most A man's reputation
may be sacrificed in a moment of Ill
considered action. The people who are
prone to fall pn their knees to do us
honor when success is with us may
be the first to. throw the stone of
malice when failure settles Its cloud
upon our heads. :
"The one absolutely unselfish friend
that a man can have In this selfish
world, the one that never deserts him,
the one that never proves ungrateful,
or . treacherous. Is his dog. A man's
dog stands by him In prosperity and
in poverty, in death and In sickness.
He wTO sleep on the. cold ground,
where the wintry winds blow and the
snow drives fiercely, if only he may
be near his master's side. He will
kiss the hand that has no food to of
fer. He will lick the wounds and
sores that come In encounter with the
roughness or the world. He guards the
sleep of his pauper master as If he
were a prince. When all other friends
desert ho remains. When riches take
wings and reputation falls to pieces
he is as constant in his love as tho
sun In its journeys through the heav
ens. If fortune drives the master forth
an outcast in the world, friendless and
homeless the faithful dog asks no
higher privilege than that of accom
panying him, to guard against danger,
to fight against his enemies. '"
'"And when the last scene of all
comes and death takes the master in
its embrace, and his body la laid away
in the cold ground, no matter If all
other friends pursue their way, there
by his graveside will the noble dog
be found, his head between his paws,
his eyes Sad, but opoh In alert watch
fulness, faithful and true even In
death." Kansas City Journal.
. ' QUAINT AND CURIOUS.'
Some enthuslaatic , Dundee (Scot
land) anglers are about to convert a
morass near the town into an artifi
cial loch 35 acres in extent, so as to
have Loch Leven trout near at home.
Within hair an hour o Tthe death of
one of a pair of twin boys at Leices
ter, England, the other one died,
through, the 'doctor said, a certain
curious sympathy -which exists ; be
tween twins. .--.".,.
The South McAlester (Indian Ter
ritory) News relates that a negro
criminal In the Chocktaw nation was
so badly scared by . being arrested
that he turned an ashen gray, and
has never recovered bis proper col.
or,
"
Lord Wolscley owns the . costliest
sword in Great Britain. It was a
gift to him and Is valued at 110.000;
but there Is many an-old bolo which
has done more execution in. hewing
down bushes and men than the
diamond-studded blade of the British
general.
German newspapers mention among
the signs of the time a recent an
nouncement regarding Hugo Zw
Hohenlohe-Oehrlngen,- the first Ger
man prince who has turned merchant
With' a merchant named Schode he
has formed a company, with a capital
of 176.000, for using oil to lay the dust
In roads. -j. .,...
, The most literary monarch iV'-TCu-rope
Is, without doubt the young Vic
tor Emmanuel of Italy. He knows
English, French and German as well
as his native language and has even
a reading acquaintance with that very
difficult language, Russian. He spends
at least three hours every day in his
study busy with current literature of
every kind.
Cats, large and small, make . the
most careful toilet of any class of
animals, excepting some, of the opos
sums. The Hons and tigers wash
themselves In. exactly the same man
ner aa the cat, wetting the dark, rubber-like
ball of tbe fore foot and In
ner toe and passing It over the (face
and behind the ears. The foot la thus
at the same time a face' sponge and
brush, and the rough tongue, combs
the rest of the body.
The English newspapers report a
new anpllcntlon in Australia of the
principle of the coin-ln-the -slot
machine, statins that if a stamp can
not, be purchased conveniently it v.'ill
he possible In the future to drop a I
1 letter into cue orifice of a pusial
l-ox ami a penny into a second nrilKe,
.' and the words "One penny paid" vill
if( timed hiiiiv 1 on t!;e enut'to-if
v i- q 1 V? 1" v i.; 1 ! : f ,, !.
A mM fOU StJNDAI
AM ELOQUENT DISCOURSE ENTITLED.
AS JOD'3 GIFT."
-"1
The Bev. I. a. BTm, D. D., Delivers a
, Stirring addnw am . th - SabjMti
"SlwpleuiMM," With aa Appropriate
- tost W CettiprhMtv Meaning.
, UnOOttttw, lis t. At trie Second" Pre
byterian Church Surtdafr hWriimit the pa;
tor, the Bev. T. A. Nelson, D, t., predcVd
on the subject, "Sleeplessness?1 He tddk
for his text Daniel ii, part of first verse.
"His spirit Was troubled and sleep went
in
tare'
That line of the poet Ydutig, "Sleep na
m's sweet restorer," like every other tril
poet's saying, was inspired. "Blessings
li.ht :Z .kn . l.lJ "
.111'. 1,W 111,, 111' V U.1.1
says 8anhd Panta id "Don Quixote," and
Coleridgs exclaims, itt the ."Aricnnt Mari
ner," "0, sleep, it is a gentM thing!" ln
nyion speaks of "tha mystery of golden!
sleep," snd whit a mystery indeed it is. It
is the most interesting; and the moat per
picking o all. physical and. metaphysical
mysteries. Tut (Mother .btnds lovingly
over her infant in the cradle and Wanders
what it means this harmless, -painless;
.lapsing of all life into unbroken tranquil
lity. Those little hands, now so quiet, bat
so busy most of the tune, how beautiful
and still they ire now. Those limbs com
posed in attitudes of 'such unconscious
grace, lying on the pillow; how hard it
generally is to keep them in order during
wakeful houra. And how unspeakably sol
emn it is to think how far tbe child is now
beyond our reach. Who is it, when the
face of tha mother fades from tha vision,
that takea its soul in charge?
But when a man aleeps the spectacle is
mors suggestive. Think of Caeaar on his
couch, hia vigilant eyes closer), his voice si
lent, his brain unworkins snd still. Think
of Alexander in the night, looking aa he
finally looked in the coffin, dead. Imagine
how David felt when he saw Saul entering
tbeeave. Think of Oicero fast aileeo. Think
of the sleeping Christ lying asleep in the
miosc ot the tempest, as if Me were resting
in the heart of God. When Christ turns
away Iium ni with closed eyes there is al
ways afforded1 opportunity for the storm.
We are only at peace while He is wakefully
with us. While He sleeps not only ia the
light withdrawn, hot tbe darkness is felt to
the utmost: life's ship is tossed with the
storm and we an threatened with tnhrtal
danger. A sleeper Christ will do meno
good. A painted Christ will not be of the
vaguest service in my life. A wooden cru
cifix or ivory cross will not help me. It
must be a wakeful Christ with every en
ergy astir; power in every look and move
ment; an actual, positive, real and per
sonal Christ. We are mocked by His
figure; we are saved by His personality.
It is Christ, not in the temporary paralysis
of nnconscioue aleep, but Chriat alert in
watchful omnipotence that I need. Unless
we nightly sink into aleep we are not pre
pared to live, and anything over which we
hsva control which prevents ont sleeping
in proportion to onr need should be es
teemed guilt before God. Since the strength
of oar life belongs to Him we are not st
liberty to waste it. Nevertheless, in onr
'day we live in auch fashion that, like the
astern monarch, onr spirits are troubled
and onr sleep depsrts. - t- -
This hss come about sometimes from the
haste to get rich.- People rise early snd ait
op lste in their eager pursuit of wealth,
and when the jading day is done at laat
and they lay their heads upon their pil
lows, sleep may fly from them and they
may seek it in vsin. Now this is not a
light matter. There are few things mors
dispiriting snd truly exhsuating than the
loss of natural sleep; to count hour alter
hour in feveriah wakefulness, seeking for
gvtfulness which will not come.
Now what is the root of all this dis
tress? The physician will doubtless diag
no it as owing to unhealthy excitement
of brain snd undue senaitiveneaa ot the
nervous system. But in its last analysis
you will find aa a general rule the great
cause of this weary wakefulness, aniietv
and misery is simply wsnt of faith in God.
It is because wa are not able, as we ought
to trust ourselves and all that concerns us
to a sure providence, snd many ot you
know that it is mental anxiety that breaks
your rest. It is because yon are trying to
hesr the burden and build tha house your
selves, to keep the city yourselves, -that
yon have the anxious hours. It is because
you will plan too far ahead instead of let
ting each day bear its own burden; be
cause you will ask what is to become of
you and your children if such and such an
event takes place; because yon will take
the future into your own hands instead of
leaving it to Jeaua. ;
But why should we not hsve faith in
God? If we had, many of aa, would not
wa aleep? If, ones for all, yon have in
trusted your soul to His keening you sre
sure that all things will go well; that noth
ing can go amiaa; that God will keep yon,
angels will guide your footsteps snd ths
Ho.y Spirit will dwell within vn from
hour to hour. Yon will then lay your bead
down upon your pillow snd rise again, with
the morning light, refreshed.
After trying to explain away' our weary
hours of sleeplessness on the basis of phy
sical infirmity, ws hsva to confess that ths
real source ia found in the things that prey
on our minda by day and break our rest at
night, and mixed with those anxious
thoughts there are the thoughts thst will
intrude themselves of a mors serious char
acter. In ths still, wakeful hours, even
the most heedless one is forced occasionally
to think of Him before whom we must
sure.y appesr and give account of our
selves. It is impossible, then, quite to sup
press a question aa to where the soul will
be when the body shall be down in its lit
tle bed, when sll earthly things have faded
from us. But if you can truly trust that it
ia well with you, that amid your deep un
worthiness you are simply believing on
your Saviour and are striving to grow like
Him; that your task ia appointed you of
Mod, however humble your sphere, it is
large enough to achieve character; if you
can always feel that Christ is near and
ready to help; that yon and thorn near to
you are provided for by Him and that yon
shall never wsnt; if you have one for all
learned whether awake or asleep that yoa
sre the Lord's and that yon shall live to
gether with Him, thea surely you may sink
into untroubled rest and sleep a refreshing
and peaceful sleep.
, But let me come closer still to th exper
ience of some perbsps among professing
Christiana. Yon know that healthful sleep
is our most peaceful state. Yoa sew human
nature in that stats in which it is most
thoroughly free from all annovance and
trouble, and that is aymbol of th prov
ince. "Thou wilt keep . him in perfect
wice whose mind is stayed on Thee."
That is a wonderful promise, but there is
no blinking the fact that eomnaratively
few even among those who claim to be
true followers, ever experience it in its ful
ness. Aa a rule it is far from being per
fect. On of the ancient schoolmen wrote
in summing up the, chief characteristics of
life: "I entered this world in loneliness; I
have lived in anxiety; I shall leave it in
fear." That sbont expressea th situation
of many of you. Look at th faces on the
street. Almost every on is careworn snd
anxious. There is no doubt that care site
heavily on mankind. What is wrong?
Simply this: That while God has promised
peace and ia ready to give it it must be re
ceived by faith.' It goes without saying
that tha amount of peace and quiet we
aUll expsrience will be in. proportion to
our trust in God. If w were really able
to trust God with everything instead of
doing, as most Christians do, never trust
ing God snd mora than they can help jid
never feeling quite sure as to what jUe
mny do; if we would cast our cares upon
11 un instead of bearing them ouraeives
what unspeakable peace we should enjoy.
But we have nnt quits got at the real
root of th difficulty yet. Doubtless soma
nf you are thinking that if some particular
thing which vews you were out of the way
yon would lie all right and vonr peace
would now as a river. No, that ia not the
trouble. Tt is not ome petty vexation
mat rnimiuiiw the Hiitrrmi in your din,
Tf you prnhft your li';iris dep'-r von will
riic,')vr th.it tiie re:tl r"i"?i ig tirit votl
(ire not ri-;ut v nh l i. You have not
ii'iiv and Itonrtdr hs-v ) in ,l..i. Ynn
h ive tn.v.jht a p .-.-! ii I n w ,. " ,,.
I'!l VOM jl . I' t,C 'f! f . . f :! ! 1 !
kno whom t have believed Ko( (IK
I am not called uniifl to explain th mys
tery of Christ by which w itt sh to ar
rive at .this blessed conviction of faith. It
would be i lifiJni)t thing to follow bf S
logical process. Theft! sre many things in
the working out of your deepest conscience
rlilch are beyond our logic. Neverlneles.
sy there u.no ewap into ths realm of
rest save by faith in, the stoning grace of
Jesus Christ. The thinf thst is a,t the bot
tom of the fear is th latent erttif iction that
you sre not right with God. H 11 (bat
which kept you vaguely unsatisfied. .It is
eating, ths- heart ont of your enjoyment of
life. Get that fightjmcs and you will re
ceive the. "peace of Gen nich passeth un
derslilndin." Perhaps I mf net have
been aufBcieniiy personal, direct and pun
gent, and, if so, I pray God's forgiveness
snd yonrs. It will not heat S deeply
poisoned wound to skin It over. I pray
vju. probe your hearts to th uttermost.
If you feel yod nave been wrong nntil now
begin to be right from this hour, Get the
central stay made firm and strong1. Get fast
hold of God. The great step is to b really
persilidcd that God is your Tather To
be persuldea that He loved you, unworthy
as you are; thst He reckons yon among
th number of those Id Whom He gives
eternal life. - Th unrest come from the
fear that you have not sot on the solid
groiltldj that you are still worse, risking
th losing Of your, soul. At any moment
the Master may rise and close the door.
Your soul may suddenly look back upon
th nrobation eeriod forever and look for
ward toward heaven for everlasting. O,
try. I beseech you, for th hope set forth
in the gospel. Have it out with God, once
for all. Get en terms of peace with Him
before the day may close. Cast yourself
in the swr?asting srms. -
I hsve spoken of two things. First, the
consuming care; second, the latent convic
tion. There ia one other experience that
may break our sleep. I pray God tliat none
of you may have it. It i the sxnerienc
of one who has committed spiritual suicide.
In One of Victor Hugo's books there is a
character who. after a lone series of exper
ience, at last arrived at a great crisis; he
wavers, hesitates, and then commits S co
lossal ain. Conscience is inaulted beyond
forgiveness. Then suddenly he hears, ss it
were, an internal hurst of laughter laugh
ter of the souland th soul rarely hears
this innermost laughter more than once
without hearing it forever. This character
afterward falls asleep end dreams. He en
ters the town; he comes upon many men
standing in vsriou postures, silent snd im
movable, ss If desd. In unspeakable terror
ha tries to flee out of the lifeless city,
when, looking back, he is appalled to ae
th inhabitants coming after him. They
overtake him and hold him and cry: "Do
yon know that you hsve been dead for a
loi-, while?" Now and then, in polite -.
ciety, in select communities, even in thjs
fellowship, unknown to us, but not un
known to God, one comes upon on of
these desd men, who hsve hesrd th inter
nal hunt of laughter, who mocks and de
fies God and insults divine mercy, Theie
is such a thing as spiritual suicide. Men
sometimes, by their action or non-aetin
take the life of the soul; tliev sre dead to
repentance and to hope, and at last they
sre dead to God. Thus men drive sletp
forever from their eyelids, like Macbeth.
When one the conviction seises upon tie
soul then farewell to slumber and peace.
God forgive me if I have spoken too
plainly, if I hare misrepresented toe spmt
of truth, hut if I have been true to the
word of God then let him that hath ears
hear what the spirit says: "To-day, if you
will hear His voice, harden not vour
hearts." Lay hold upon eternal life. Then
you may lay down in sleep, since when you
yvwake you shall still be with Him; and
Whether yon wake or not, you will be tha
Lord's snd Hia forever.
Keep Moral IihMU Clear.'
W need, above all things, to keep our
moral ideal clear and high. "Wo unto
him iKfit puts light for darkness and dark
ness !W light, sweet for bitter," etc. That
is, Wt. unto him that confounds moral dis
tinctions. Not our patriotism or our par
tisan.biD must blind us to truth. Neither
lor i-qrselvea nor our country nor our
parly may we condone sin or falsehood or
meanu-Ms. 11 a propnetess, a cnosen mes
senger of God, could go wrong, how easily
may ws. Dean Hodges is just publishing
a book on "Th Human Nature of ths
paints.' A companion volume might be
"The alse Judgments of Christian Peo-
Ele. Bias is almost irresistible. What
elp mi thst which w much care for we
Jin apt to praise without looking too closc
y at a moral quality. So doing, we close
our insight, extinguish the light of God
Li ill. au!il.: .1 a mwiA ku anil Kv WA mAV
R1UIHM1 W.tU.M Ual CTUU , BUM VJ J
find etirselves walking in darkness rather
than light, perishing, perhaps, as iiaiasm
perished among th enemies of ths Lord.
B Completely Satlsfles.
God is love! God is light! This ancient
message is also ths moat recent report of
our own personal experience. Oh, God is
our home indeed! W can no more de
tcribi this consciousness to a man who has
never possessed it than w can make a
foundling from a workhouse understand
tha uMterioua iovs of an earthly Christian
horn. Yea, we are at home with God. II
satisfies! He satisfies! It is Ha who gives
ths completing toucn to tnougnt, to work,
to pleasure and to life. Without Him our
intellectual ladder baa neither foundation
to stand upon below nor . rest to lean
against above Without Him our purposes
miss their best fruition snd our joys their
ferfum. lie ii our nom indeed, snd we
now th unmistakable sign when ws feel
th outstretched love of our Father Lend
ing over u. .
Rod's Ovsrtu're to C. '
Jehovah is tha unthsnaint God. To-rlav
He answer our longing desires, saying.
"There is a place beside Me." He would
not keep us st a distance, but always woos
ns to nearness. Tlt pine is tha place of
understanding. You must see ths pieture
at its right angle if you would know its
meaning. So it a in life. History and ex
perience nave tneir aaric prooiems. ins
stained glass window is a mvsterv when
seen from within by artificial light. But
when the sunlight streams through snd
transhgures it, wa read its meaning, so
did would let His liaht fall upon our paat
ing through their ever-changing vicissi
tudes, it is also ths plsce ot ilu presence.
'Jacob Is much slower, to leava-Bethel than
he waa to run into it. The thought of
fc-sau tilled him with (ear. Hut he saw
"th plar besids God." snd said. "The
Lord ia in this place. Th experiences
nf life may not alter, but they are vastly
different when w are conscious of God's
nreaenrtt amid them. It ia th nlac of
transfiguration. - The unbroken calm of
God's peace, snd the assurance of eternal
security and success take possession of the
soul and the outer lit responds to tnis in
ner Dossesjion. This reserved plac and
waiting bleaainst is God's overture to us at
in 3 tnresaoiQ ot snotner year, juny me
Hpirtt help us to stand beside Him snd ao-
cept tnis unspeakable gilt.
SCALLOPED CARROTS.
Two or three bunches new1 carrots.
Cut oft the tops snd mash them, using
sufficient to well fill a pint measure;
boll them In barely enough salted
water to cover until tender, drop into
cold Water for a moment, and quickly
slip off the skins. Prepare two-thirds
pint white sauce, using a few spoon
fuls ot the water In which th'e) carrote
were cooked. Cut each carrot Into
three or four pieces, arrange In a but
tered dish, pour over the sauce, sprin
kle with butter crumbs and, J)ake in a
hot oven tl 1 hrowneu.
FLOWERS IN SOAP BCDW.ES.
To blow a flower Inaldo a soup hob
ble, the siirfare of a plnte should te
covered vii'll a soupy solution lit h '
a half 1ti' Si tM'1;. In t'-? r '
1; I ! - I'nv ( I !' ', '' !'
V " ' h ' : ' M ' i
A HAY FEVER ROMANCE.
"Will you be mine? " tbe lover cried ,
m.. iwiMih a mania tmfl. 1
And bushfullv the inaiu replied, - ' jw
- un, Arvuiumui jmth-uis
"I've loved you long," he wildly snld.
"My heart doth ever beat for you,"
the nHtidoH sbyly bowed her head
Aua soitiy inrsnru. ii, ivuruuuu,
"Oh, say," heseechevl the ardent swain,
"If vnu will shure bit cottage sung?"
The damsel bent ber Wad again
And eoylv w Wsperea, ' v ovi-ner
obugl'V. . ;r ;
"I love vou, too," she cried, "my own t
r tIII I.B,-a -nllf HnntlllA FfWir. '
Tbe youth replied in bunting tone, -
" un, eosiasyi sveruuugi -iivii
The birds looked down upon the scene,
Tbe osteTS nodded in the breeze:
And so tbey pllghtod troth, t ween.
Aud sealed It with a mighty sneeze. '
, ,. Philadelphia Bulletin,
JUST FOR FUN
Barnes Was Bentley seriously
hurt? Howes Very seriously; was
hit on the funny bone. 1V
Harding Is Boulder a man to bo
trusted? Stanley Why, that's the on
ly way you can sell him anything. .
"Is your wife economic?" "Very,
Bhe can fix over a f 10 hat for $15 so '
It will look Just as good as a new. .
one." Puck. - ,
Mrs. Fondmar Don't you think
baby grows more like me every day? -Fondmar
Yes, . dear, especially so
since she began to talk. Life. "
" I want to get a divorce," she told '
the lawyer. "What has your husband
been doing?" he asked. "Nothing,"
she replied. Cleveland Leader.
"Poor old Versley died last night."
"Indeed?" "Yes, he turned over and
died without a struggle." "Well, ho
died easier than he lived, then."
New Orleans Picayune. . '
Harry How is it you're not car
rying a cane these days? Theodore, ;
My dear boy, I don't foel equal to it. .
It's as much as I can do to walk with- -out
it, don't you know.
Kate I suppose you consider youc
self handsome? Grace .On, dear, uoi
but then It's just like me to think dif-, '
ferehtly from everybody else. I am
so eccentric, you know. - - . -
Hilda I wonder why it is that sail- ,
or men are so profane? Uncle Hon
ry Why, don't you know? They ,
learn it ot the parrots in foreign
lands. Hilda There! I might have ;
known.
Uncle John Don't yon think It rath- ;
er extravagant in you to smoke such '
expensive cigars? Richard -ftwould -be
iFldldn't make It up by economy
in another direction my wife's hats "
and gowns.
Dingus Old fellow. It is the same
old story. I'm In need of a little fin
ancial succor. Shadbolt You'll have '
to hunt further. I am not the little
financial sucker I used to be. Chi-c
cago Tribune. y..:,.-.. -, - .
. Fuddy Dr. Pellets has had tt long -experience,
but he never doctors him
self. When he is under the weather,
he invariable calls in another physi
cian. Duddy Apparently ' he draws :
the line at suicide. '' :
"Don't you think he lacks aplomb?"
asked Mrs. Oldcastle. , ''Well," re
plied her hostess, "I don't know, but
at the dinner the other night It did.
seem to be as though he couldn't get .
enough peaches." Chicago ' RccorsV .
Herald. -.i. --i -:..':. y: -- '
Fannie And what did you.- , say ,. ,
when -he said you were the first girl
he had ever proposed to? Blanche--I
told him he was the first man who
had ever proposed to me. ( And, do
you know, I don't think be felt a bit
flattered. Funny, isn't It? " . ,
Bickers Hello, Welby! you tlldn't
have to undergo an operation for ap
pendicitis, after all? Wclby No; the
doctors discovered that I was too poor
to pay for It. So I had to got. well,
without It. The (act is, there's no '
chance for a poor man In this world,
i GIffle What's your experience with
street-car hogs? Splnks t-traTKpne
move up and give me the end seat
this summer. GlfAe Merely from
politeness? Splnks No; I think rath
er from prudence. You see, there
was , a shower beginning. Philadel
phia Bulletin.
' "Anyway," said the Cheerful Idiot,
as be looked over the Tired Citizen's
shoulders at the plctureof an Igorrotte
dog feast, "that's one part of De
canine they don't scent to ' fancy."
"What's that?" asked the Tiretl CHI
gen, accommodatingly. "The pants."
replied the Cheerful Idiot, with loud
laughter. Baltimore American.
Mosquitoes KUI Chickans.
Big ' gallinlpper mosquitoes,, thut
seem to have can-openers in place of
stingers, are attacking chicken In
the East End, and they are sut.f 'al
ready to have killed 22 fowls owned
by Mrs. Bridget, Owens of Fultmi
Street. All of the chickens were at
tacked while roosting. : The mosqui
toes seem 'to descend toward th
earth from high In tlto, air early in
the evening or after darkness and at
tack animals of all kinds. It i
thought that they breed in" low,
marshy places, but fly high most '
the time.
The usual point of attack If t
comb.. Chickens which were in f "
shape-when they went to roost ;
night come limping from their ho
In the morning with their combs
foraled and inflamed. Draih curt,.
In a day or so. Louisville Cnm
'ournnl.
Description of a ''Lirjht V'ni .i-v
Tom Could, formerly the l.i
a Kew York rr-MM Hint f
flRiired in the i!ev.p:tp"ir-s, w:l:i !
anioni; ble frMiils for' Hi." pi,-i
lie; S l-f 1' !
"f D - - 1 l: - 1 ' .. ! '
J
K