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VOLUME XIX.
FRANKLIN. N. ,C.. WEDNESDAY. DECEMBER H, 1904.
N UMBEU 50
WHUWWMWMMHUMIIMHMIimHIIIMWM
f Eloise's Inheritance. I
It was "bitter night In November,
promise of a cold, dreary winter to
I come, when ' two gentlemen tome
- thirty-eight or forty years old, sat over
wine and ctgara in a luxuricus room
In an uptown boarding house, in New
York city. One, the youngest of the
couple, had landed a few hours before
from a European steamer, and had
been telling traveller's tales to his
companion, tar, into the nignt nours.
"Rich r be said In. answer to
question. "No, but little richer than
- when I left hare. But I have gained
experience and knowledge In my Paris
life. . There is nothing like French
schools and hospitals for a doctor,
Bert, I would not take thousands of
dollars and miss the last four years,
"But you are glad to com nemo,
Cyrus?" ; . . t
"Homef said Cyrus Worthlngton
with a short, bitter laugh. "This is
my home, a room In a boarding house!
and I chose this because you were
here, my old friend and chum."!
"But your relatives?" ' '
-"I do not know of one. Doctor
Worthlngton took me from a charity
school when I was six years old, be
cause -I bad a curious variation of
scarlet fever he wished to study at
- leisure.' I was an odd child, smart and
active, and before- the fever was cured
he became fond cf me and adopted
me. We .must have been a strange
pair, Bert the old bachelor, wrapped
up in his profession, and the elfish,
half-starved foundling. But we were
very happy. Until I went to Harvard,
'Where we met, my benefactor edu
. cated me himself, and I devoured
books. I had no one to love, and
books filled the craving of my heart.
so I studied everything before mo, In'
eluding the medical works In the II-
; brary. You won't believe me, I sup
pose, if I tell you I could use a dis
secting knife before I was twelve years
wo.' -.- -
"I do not doubt It. We all ccnsld
- ered you a prodigy of learning at Har
vard. By the way. how did you ever
- come to leave the doctor tor college?1
"He desired it, distrusting his own
' powers of tuition after t passed seven,
. teen. When I came heme, as you
know, I became bis partner and as
; sistant until he died, leaving me thirty
: thousand dollars, and I fulfilled my
lifelong desire and went to Paris.
"Was that all that drove yon to
farts? No love dream, no fair com
panion on the steamer?"
"None. I am heart-whole at thirty'
i eight Can you say as much?"
J" "Not !. My heart Is as full of holes
J from Cupid's dart as a skimmer. My
I last love, though, Is the sweetest
I maiden that ever won a heart with
oft eyes' and golden curls.' You shall
see her. In all your travels you have
treWSce than Bloise Hunt-
ver cyrus worthlngton s race came
.startled look that was almost terror.
"ElcUe Hunter." he cried: then
added, with a forced carelessness, 'It
Is a pretty name. Who la she?"
"The daughter of my landlady. Did
' t not mention her name when I wrote
you I had secured rooms for you
here?" ,.
y; "No." ' '. "
''Well, that Is her name. She Is the
widow: of one Daniel Hunter,, who
died, leaving her without one dollar,
having squandered her fortune as wall
as his own. Not a bad man, I judge,
but one who was wickedly reckless In
using money. Well, he Is dead, and
'; bis widow keeps this house!"
. "And this daughter how old It
'"Nineteen or twenty, I should Judge.
She Is so little and fair she locks like
a child. You are tired, Cy."
"Very tired."
"You are as pale as death. I will
leave you to rest Pleasant dreams."
Pale as death, and with his large,
dark eyes full of startled light, Cyrus
.worthlngton paced the floor after his
friend retired.
- 'It Is fate!" he muttered, "Destiny.
What accident could throw that girl
across my path three hours after land
ing In New York? ,
: ' Elolse.'only daughter of Daniel Hunt
er. It makes me dizzy to think. If
' after all, I am to grasp what I have
coveted ' .for years! I Patience, pa-
I tienee!" 1 -4i 7
k He paced the room for hours, till
I m I.M 1 . .X - i .
ww J ,uwu vinyl mi v UIV W1QQOW,
when he threw himself upon the bed
- for a few hours' repose. - A man of Iron
" will, of steady nerve, he had been as
sailed by the strongest, fiercest temp
tatlon of his life, and he awakened only
to renew the mental conflict, i
, late breakfast was presided over
by a pale woman' about forty, his
landlady, but there was no sign yet
of Elolse. Feverishly desirous to see
her, to form some estimate of her from
his own observations, Cyrus Worthlng
ton lingered In the house all day.
He wa a man who once having re
solved upon any course ' of action,
could not be turned aside by trivial or
by weighty opposition, and he had re
solved to marry Elolse Hunter, never
having ; seen hor face or heard her
voice. So with this purpose In his
heart, he threw all other considerations
to the wind, and waited to make the
first move In this gams of life,-for two.
Educated, as he had salt) himself, by
man whose soul was wrapped up In
bis-profession, the scholar had ab
sorbed much of the teacher's enthusi
asm. But, while Doctor Worthlngtcn
looked steadily at the nobler aims of
his profession, the' power to alleviate
suffering, to aid mankind, Cyrus loved
lt fnrfts more abstruse Investigation,
its scientific scope, Its ' broad field of
wlf-sggrhndlzemenl ' To make a name
In the mledical and scientific world, by
some neifr work of value, to be known
as the grfeat Doctor Worthlngton, was
the end oif all his study and research.
But his Ambition was second to his
avarice. (Not for money Itself but for
control oft the luxuries money will pro-
curs, he IdYged for wealth; not merely
comfort, ttat his own Income secured,
but richest power to live In a palace
with scores of servants, with luxury
In every appointment, and money to
rpmd freeljy In the pursuit of thou
B.'iHitlfle etiidies for which he had d
1 1 all Ma 1 f f !!.
never Injured' an Iron constitution by
an yexcees ,of hard, keen Intellect and
strong will, be was a dangerous wooer
lor fair Elolse Hunter , a lily In her
fair, sweet beauty, with a delicate con
stitutlon .timid to a fault ,and modest
as a Tioiot'.:, -:
He was In the drawing room' in the
afternoon, reading a novel, half hidden
by the folds of a curtain, when ha ssw
a lady coming across the soft carpet,
wno he felt sure must be Bloise" Hunt
er. Small as a child of fourteen, ex-
qulsitely fslr, with a wealth of golden
curls caught from a low, broad brow.
a sweet, childlike mouth, and purely
oval face, she was as lovely a vision of
girlhood as over's mans eyes "rested
upon.
- Yet Cyrus Worthlngton. studying the
face, unseen himself, thought only,
"How weak, timid, easily Influ
enced!" .
Not one thought of the wrong be
was to do her dawning womanhood
troubled him. Whatever scruples of
conscience had troubled his night's
vigils were sll crushed under the Iron
heel of his will, and there was no
thought now of turning back from
this purpose. While his eyes still
rested upon her face, Elolse opened
the piano, and from the little taper
fingers flowed the music that comes
by divine gift, the outpouring of In
spiration. It moved even Cyrus Worth
lngton, no mean Judge of the wondrous
execution of the girl's fingers, or the
power ot her genius. From a heart
full of sadness came walling melodies.
melting into dying cadences, full of
tearful meaning; then slowly there
gathered cn the sweet lips an Intense
smile ot wondrou.s radiance, and the
minor passages were changed to ten-
der, rippling airs, happy as an Infant's
smiles, till some glorious chords ot
grand harmony completed this true
maiden's dream.
It was evidently holiday work, for
with a sigh Elolse took a book of
alarming-looking exercises from the
music rack, and began, to practice In
real earnest
Cyrus Worthlngtcn drew further
back In the folds ot the curtain, and
resumed his novel. An hour flew by,
ana wen Mrs. Hunter came in.
"Five o'clock, Elolse, and pitch dark.
Are you practising properly In the
aarjc?"
"I know- these lessons by heart
mamma," the girl answera din a low.
sweet voice, with a shade ot weariness
In the tone.
Don't wsste tlwe, darling," the
mother said anxiously; "you know I
cannot pay for many lessons, and next
year your-must try to find scholars."
I wish you would let me help you
more." was the reDlv: "it seems wick.
ed for me to be studying and practis
ing while you have so much care and
work."
You will help me socn. But I
want you to be Independent Elolse.
I may. die, and you could not run this
great house, but you could teach. . Go
upstairs now; the gentlemen will be
coming in soon to dinner.4
Did the boarder ccme last night?"
Doctor Worthlngton? Yes, dear!
Mr. Lorlng tells me he is a great phy
sician, author of some medical books,
and wonderfully skillful. He is well
off, too!"
"Ob, mamma, If he could help that
pain!"
No. dear. no. we will net troabla
him wfth our aches and pains. There,
dear, ran up stairs; I will send Maggie
for you when I eat my dinner,"
Then the parlor was empty, for Cy
rus sauntered oft to his own room
when Mrs. Hunter and her daughter
were gone.
He was not many days an Inmate ot
Mrs. Hunter's house before he discov
ered that It was net that lady's policy
to parade her daughter to her board
ers. The girl lived like a nun, In her
own room nearly all day, practising
at an hour when the gentlemen were
away, and the ladles lying down, or
out .
Yet with his resolve In full force.
Cyrus Worthlngton contrived to see
Bloise very frequently. He would bend
his great dark eyes upon, her face,
and hold her fascinated for hours by
the eloquence with which he spoke ot
music, of poetry, ot all the girl-soul
worshipped. He drew from her the
story of the pain her mother suffered
around her heart, and delicately of
fered professional service, where his
skill availed to bring relief, thus mak
ing one step by winning the gratitude
of mother and child.
But while his own heart knew no
more now than before the sweetness
of love, he read in Eloise's eyes none
of the emotion he hoped to kindle
there. Heart-whole himself, he had
not been without conquests in his set
fish life. Women had owned the mag
netic power In his great dark eyes,
his rich voice, the winning eloquence
ot his tongue. Belles whose conquests
were of well known -number hsd let
him read the love he wakened In their
eyes ,and flirts had owned themselves
beaten at their own game.
Yet this shy violet, this little re-
cluse, liking him well, gave him no
part la her heart -
One word from Bert Lorlng, one
glance ot his blue eyes.' Would call up
flying blushes to the fair cheeks that
all Cyrus Worthlngton 's eloquence
failed to bring there. . ...
But Bert, though cider than his
friend, had been an unsuccessful man.
A poet by the grit of God. be was al
most a pauper by the non-appreciation
of man.' Just the tiniest patri
mony kept him from actual want but
though he had a hall room at Mrs.
i-untefs, his boots were often shabby,
his clothes well worn, and bis purse
lamentably slender.
And Mrs. . Hunter seeing Doctor
Worthlngton In her .beet room, prompt
in payment faultless In costume, with
a certainty of thirty thousand dollars,
and a possibility of greater wealth, In
he practice of his profession, encour
aged his attentions to Elolse, frown
ing upon poor, loving Bert, who, In
spite of his Jests about his well-riddled
brart, gave the young girl true, loyal
love.
It was the old, old story, and Elolse,
rn ly 1 r r''J sTvtlon and her f'-l
. . 1
child or her heart too well fcr that)
but loving her she could not give her
to poverty and Bert Lorlng, and one
day when Bert pleaded his cause she
told him.
"Doctor Worthlngton asked me this
morning to give Elolse. I like you,
Bert You are dear to me as a son,
but we must think of the child above
all. You know how dreamy, sensitive,
and helpless Elolse Is. You now that
hard work would be murdor for her."
. "And her love! She loves me," in
terrupted poor Bert a boy yet In many
tender phases of his nature.
"And you, loving her, would you see
her tolling, slaving, starving, as
poor man's wire?"
"You put it harshly."
"I put it truly. While I can keep
this house up you are welcome to a
home here, but any day I may die.
These heart spasms mean a certain
death some day, Bert Then where
are you to take Elolse?"
"I will work for her" -"Work
first then, and woo her after
ward. My poor Bert, you are too like
her to marry her. Could I but give
you wealth, you could live In a poet's
paradise, you and Elolse, never grow
ing old, two grown-up children. But
we are all poor. : Do not torture her,
you who love her. Go away and let
Doctor Worthlngton win her." '
"She will never love hlin."
"Not if you are here."
"I will go then. You will let me tell
her?" ...
"Why? It wilt only make her life
harder, if she thinks you suffer. I will
never force her to marry. But It
Doctor Wcrthlngton can -win her, I
tell you frankly, it will make me very
happy."
80 Bert honest loyal Bert for bis
ver ylove's sake, turned his face from
his love and went to another city,
where he was offered a position as
assistant editor upon a magazine, that
was to be a fortune In the future, but
In the preseqj; was rather a log on the
necks of the proprietors. . ,
And Elolse, wondering at Bert's de
sertion, knew all the sunlight was gone
from her life when he said farewell.
There had been no secret In Bert's
paxti.ig with his friend. Frankly he
had told him bis hope, love and de
spair, and pathetically Implored him
to cherish Elolse lovingly, if he could
win her love.
Even while he spoke, Cyrus Worth
lngton knew that this love would
never come to answer his wooing,
knew that ons word of bis cculd flood
two lives with happiness, yet kept
silence. In the days that followed,
when he wooed the fair, pale girl, ten.
derly, devotedly, no pang ot remorse
wrung his heart, though he knew be
trod carefully upon all loving flowers
of bope In hers. He was a man who
could have seen his own mother
writhe in agony, If by her torture he
could have wrung one new fact for
science, and In the scheme of his life
the heart-pangs ot a girl counted for
less than nothing.
And while he courted the unwilling
love patiently and gently, Mrs. Hunter,
with her falling health, her pale face
and weary step, pleaded eloquently In
ber very silence. A home of rest for
her mother wss what Elolse had been
promised In delicate words that could
not be resented as a bribery.
"Your dear mother may live for
years In a quiet house, but this con
stant care and toll Is killing ber!"
So, little by little, wearing out the
young heart's constancy by steady per
severance, Cyrus Worthlngton won
Elolse for his wife. She told him she
did not love him, but knowing nothing
ot Bert's spoken love to her mother,
she kept her maiden secret folded close
In her own heart, and whispered noth
ing ot her love for Bert If on her
wedding day her white, drawn face
corpse-like in Its forced com
posure, what cared Cyrus Worthlngton
tor that? He had won his game.
Only one week after his wedding
day, leaving Elolse with her mother,
he wended bis way to the office of a
leading lawyer and asked for an In
terview' ' -
You were lawyers for Gervase
Hunter?" he asked.
"We were."
"You are aware that he died In Paris
last September?"
"Our business has not required cor
respondence since that time."
"I was his physician, and to me he
committed the care ot all his papers.
his will among tbs number."
'H'm, making you his heir?"
'No, sir, making his nephew's only
child heiress to bis wealth, nearly a
million, I understand.
"Nearly double that sum. You will
leave the papers?"
"Assuredly, and Mrs. Hunter's ad
dress. Miss Hunter became my wife
one week ago. -1 leave you the ad
dress of my assistant in Parts, the
lawyer who drew up the will, and the
witness, that you may ascertain that
all Is correct". ; ;: .. ; .,;, .
And, unheeding the lawyer's keen,
scrutinizing looks, Cyrus Worthlngton
bowed himself out of the office.
A bold game," the lawyer muttered;
he has played his cards well,"
And while he spoke there was
noise In the street, a -rush of many
feet clattering fall.
A scaffolding on the house next
door has given way," a elerk cried
with a white face, "and there are men
killed. " Nine or ten, they say." .
Nine or ten bricklayers, masons.
carpenters, and one gentleman who
bad been passing by, and in whose
face the lawyer recognized the fea-H
tares of his late visitor.
Dead, with his scheme complete.
Dead, with the road to his ambition,
gold-strewn, open before him. Dead,
with bis hand Upon the wealth be had
planned to win. Dead!
They carried him home to his young
wife, and tenderly broke the truth to
her. Even in the first shock she felt
her heart recoil when the lawyer told
her of the errand completed two min
utes before her husband's death. Shs
bad not loved him, but bad she never
known bis baseness she could have
mourned kind friend last
It wss two years before Bert came
to share her home, to fill the paradise
her. mother had painted, But In their
happiness they gave Cyrus Worth ing-
ton's name tlis charity et . B!!no.
Never Is It nmkoj by the wife he
cl' 'Hvf.l or t: f . ml lie w'".-.;'- I
ZSwTSS 2XZ
KEY TO INDIAN DESIGNS,
Method! Imploded '; bY The
artists of th wilderness.
Art Is Shown In the 'Decoration
What la Told In thsXurlo'us Figures
' on the Baskets and the Pottery
; Shape, Color and Lines All Have
Significance, . j 'ji't?'
The southwestern .barbarian Is . an
artist Though a 'member ot the
primeval school, bis talents and ac
complishments are far from mean. If
his works' are not generally appreciat
ed, aaye the Los Angeles Times, It Is
because they are not generally under
stood. One needs but the key to learn
that It contains all the elements of
true art In it are found beauty, grace,
harmony. Ideality, pathos, sublimity,
plcturesqueness, fitness, order, propor
tionand in addition to these, the
bizarre, the weird and the mysterious
The art of the American Indian is
manifest principally in the decora
tive. He lacks most of anything, var
iety In methods of expressing his
aesthetlo ideas. His highest attain
ment in aesthetlo expression Is in
form. His pottery, and basket j have
been shaped in the. most artistic of
designs. In color, circumstances have
limited him and his combinations and
blendlngs have favored the blsarre
rather than tho delicate and harmon.
lous. ' s ': .
In the shape and designs of baskets,
of pottery, of utensils and other ar
ticles in stone; In the decorations up
on pottery; In color schame In these
decorations; If the color and patterns
In blankets nd other woven articles;
In color, design and construction' of
beadwork; in ornamentation of wear
ing apparel; In rock painting and rock
carving; in Inlaid work; In shell carv
ing and shell combinations; In shaping
of silver ornaments and Jewelry of
other metals and materials; In the cut
ting of turquoli and other gem stones,
are found the chief expressions of the
artistic nature of tho Indians of the
west . ;
As has been remarked, on needs
the key to the art of the red man to
fully appreciate it - One may view an
olla or a basket and admire, in
casual way, its graceful contour. Its
peculiar coloring, Its odd designs, and
turn away with but a slight thrill of
pleasure. Let the, maker of that ar
ticle Interpret the significance ot
those colors, pattern and shape, and
be has found a (east tor his soul
There are poetiM, histories and
creeds woven into every Indian bos-
1 , J , , . a ' 1 m
nei oiiu impruueu : upon, every ueo
orated piece ot pottery, Those curi
ous figures are trying to tell you a
story. The shspe of 'the vessel or
basket tells, when one has the key,
for what purpose it Was created.
whether It was designed tor the house
hold, for sacred use end, it for the
latter, tor what particular deity or ac-
caslon or to be the repository of the
jewels and precious belongings ot its
possessor. The colors even tell stories
of their own. ;; : ;
The Indians' designs are very ex
presslve. A few lines signify great
deal. A horizontal line with a half
circle arching over It may mean:
"There came a great' flood and It
spread all over tbs land.!' Then an
upward curving lias, with three short
perpendicular lines resting therein,
will tell that: Three of our ancestors es
caped the flood In a bis; canoe an.l
were brought safely to land."
Colors . bave , three significations
when used in decorations, One relating
to things, one relative tojlme, one of
direction. In the first relation, red
means triumph or success; blue means
failure; black signifies death; white
stands for happiness or peace. Rela
tive to direction, white stands for the
east because the sky grows white In
the east at the rising of the sun; blue
represents the west because In that di
rection are the blue waters of the
Pacific; yellow is the symbol of the
north, for the light ot the morning
is yellow In the winter time, when the
sun rises further to the northward;
red signifies the south, because that
Is the region of -'summer and the red
sun.. " ... -. .
From this Interpretation of color It
is easy to calculate what the time
significations are. ' White may stand
for the morning, or for thd springtime;
blue Is tbe evening the time of tho
setting sun, or autumn, the season
ot cerulean skies; yellow Is winter,
the season of the northern1 sun, or
noon, when the earth Is flooded with
yellow light; red is the summer, be
cause it symbolizes the land of sum
mer. It Is also considered sacred
color, because It is symbolic of blood,
the life and strength of man, and the
consequent source of his success and
achievement ' 4.-4 .?:v..-
In many of the baskets of the red
man or, rather, the -red woman ap
pear geometrical figures,' the produc
tion of which requires correct enumer
ation of the minute stjtcses or weaves
of the pattern, and so great are the
varieties of figures, or parts of figures,
each requiring a different enumeration
and involving different numbers, that
none but accomplished mathematicians
could perform : the wiprk. , Otis T.
Mason, curator of the division of
ethnology In the national museum.
"A careful study qt all women's
work In basketry, as well as weavinar
and embroidery, reveals the fsct that
both In the woven kid the sewed, or
coll, ware each stitch takes up the
very same area of surface. When
women Invented basketry, therefore,
they made art possible. Along with
this tact that each stltoh on the same
basket msde ot uniform material oc
cupies the same number of square mil
limetres, goes one other fact tbe
most savage women can count"
The Indian artist forks without pat
tern, model other then nature and
without rule or compana. The con
ception of the brain is brought direct
ly to the place it Is to occupy. It
thus occurs that complications some
times arise which to t e artist of
civilization would be fi..l to tbe har
mony of bis production, but which do
not worry tlie pupils of the primitive
school, rnd which are productive of
some xirtnly artistic r.-i',ie.. Qihi
Ine :n f'-fi-n v j
But the savage artist soemft to relish
asymmetry; She 1b not the least env
barrossed if( with four repellliofis of
the same group la mind, Ihe finds,
by and by, that three of them have
nearly exhausted her space. The
quaint manner In which she. compels
the fourth to squeese Itself Into the
allotted area haa been the delight of
more than one civilised artist"
v Rock carving and rock painting is
more a thing of the past than of the
present. All through California, Art'
zona, New. Mexico and some parts
of Texas are found . rock pictures.
Some of these are engraved In thu
rocks and others are painted thereon,
In some ot the caverns, where the
figures are protected from the ele
ments, tlic. colors are as bright today
as when laid on, centuries ago.- -
"Some of the rock pictuses ot both
tn past and the present are more In
the line of literature than ot art
They are historical records, sign
boards, maps of localities to show
trails and the location ot springs. Oth
era, however, are more In the line of
historical and religious paintings and
were evidently the creation ot artist
ic minds wrought principally to satis
fy the creative desires ot the artist
who produced them. .
"War seenes were favorite 'subjects
of the aboriginal artist Hunting
scenes follow next in order, and re
ligious subjects rank next. With some
tribes, however, the latter subject
tanks flrst
. "The Navajos are particularly fond
of picturing their religious ceremonies
and they have a peculiar, style ot art
by means of which this la done. This
is what Is termed' 'dry painting,' The
pictures are made in sand not by
marking the outlines upon the sand,
but by sprinkling different' colored
sands on the ground, forming pictures
resembling pointings. Frederick Del-
leobaugh thus describing this method
01 picture making:
" 'All the designs are made with the
utmost care and precision, being
drawn according to an exact system,
except In minor points, where the
artist Is left to his imagination. So
tar as is known, the system is not
recorded In any way, but depends en
tirely upon the memory of those In
charge. Changes must therefore oc
cur In the course of time. The sand
Is trailed out of the hand between
the thumb and forefinger, and when a
mistake is made, it is corrected by
renewing, at that point the surface
of the sand which forms the general
ground of tbe work. No less than 17
ceremonies are illustrated In drawing
ot this kind.' "
Art as applied to the metals has
reached its highest development with
the Navajos ot Arizona.
QUAINT AND CURIOUS.
Tbe oldest graduates of Yale and
Harvard are ministers.
The longest pontoon bridge In the
world is at Calcutta, India, and Is a
permanent structure.
All the soldiers In the army of Ar
gentina are forced to play football. It
Is said to train them to bear the hard
ships of battle.
There are about 45,000 hotels In
this country, representing a capital of
$0,000,000,000, and giving employment
to 3,500,000 people.
A Japanese bride gives her wedding
presents to ber parents as a slight
recompense tor the trouble they bave
taken in bringing her up. -
In Laland the crime which Is pun
ished most severely next to murder
Is the marrying ot a girl against the
express wish ot her parents.
In England the annual consumotlon
of southern fruit amounts to 15 pounds
per head. In Germany it averages nof
quite three pounds per head.
In Armenia children are not allowed
to play with dolls. It Is feared that
If this were permitted the little ones
would learn to'worshlp them as idols.
The criminal code of China has
been revised and; 'slicing to death"
has been done away ; with. v It is said
that all forms ot torture will soon
bo abolished.
A Chelsea (England) hospital Is
mourning the loss of a' bequest ot
$6000 through a legal informality. The
testator signed his will in his bedroom,
and the witnesses thoughtlessly car
ried It Into another room before sign
ing It thus making the document In
valid. ' - .
Atnietss sna consumption,
There must be no exercise x-
erelse for the consumption patient.''
If you are able and feel .like it amuse
yourself, but don't take exercise to
build your system up, I know, I,
too, have heard those stories about
men given up to die, who began work
In a gymnasium and by violent exer
cise entirely recovered their health,'
. ' When tbe lung tissue lav-at
tacked by tuberculosis It heals. It it
heals at all, by this fibrous scar-material
filling In the cavity. No new lung
tissue is formed to replace what has .
been lost and this scar material la
useless for breathing. Suppose you
bad a deep cut in yfar hand and you
kept working that band violently, how f
long do you think It Would take the
cut to heal?. When exercise Is taken
or you "expand the lungs," you hsve
to work the lung tissue Just as you
work your band, and If it Is wounded
there will be a much larger propor
tion ot scar material useless for
breathing when It does get Well.
Everybody's Magazine. -
Temporarily at Fault
The amateur burglar paused, Irre
solute.'
So fsr, I've got along all right" he
said to himself, "but I've forgot what
the Instructions say I must do In case
the windows hss patent fastenln's ou
them. I'll have to look that up."
Here he took a ecpy of a popular
w,..?tne out of bin pcc!it and
t.: 1 J l..i ( 1: -0 . ', r. ) c:,,
A SERMM FOR SUNDAY
A STRONG bls6oUrts tNTlTLEO
"THE KNOWLEDGE Of 600."
thm Bt, Unagaton Im Tajlor TelU Whs
- Bcllgloa Is am Aflalr Ihe ral a.
' Gol gaotaajfta, Dozautls In.WIcee
ia.FarlloiM, y'lj. -.' -r 4-
Bbooklyn, N. Y. Sunday evening, in
to Puritan Congregational Church, the
pastor, the Rev. Livingston L. Taylor, had
for the subject of his sermon, The
Knowledge of God." Tbt text was from
Psalm lxxxiv:2i "My heart and my flesh
crieth out for the living God." Mr. Tay
lor said: .-. ,
I corns back to this pulpit In no uncer
tainty of mind with reference to what my
message ahould be. I know, at any rate,
whsra it must begin. Unless I mistaks
the terms of my commission, unless I mis
take the nature of the means placed at my
disposal, which are the Dib.s and the
church, unlesa I mistake tbs example of
my Maater, it is my business to help men,
so far as in me lies, to find God.
There is no mistaking my own mind,
nor what the summer has dona to confirm
it in this conviction. To me, ss to many
f you, the glory of tin Lord hss been re
vealed anew in earth and aky and sea. To
me, as to msny of you( has come the op
portunity to read and to think and to en
ter into the thought! of other persons. We
have gone out of doors with our religion.
We have taken our ideas of God and life
away from home with as. We have trav
eled far afield with them in tbs books
which ws have read. How have they
fared?'
For myself I did not by any means gt
rid of Jeremiah's words by preaching on
them last Sunday morning. They stay by
me. aa they begatf to-Uy by me in the
early summer. "Xhs gods that have not
mads the heavens and the esrth, these
shall perish from the earth and from un
der the heavens." Heaven and earth beaa
testimony against every inadequate idea of
God. We must have a Ood whom nothing
in heaven or on earth can dethrone. We
must hsve a Ood our faith in whom need
not be shaken by anything we may learn
about nature, or about the Bible, or about
the life of men and nations. Ws must
have a God who will not break down and
perish out of our souls in the hour of trisl.
We must hav a God who shall be God to
us, our God, even when we can only cry
with Job. "Oh, that I knew where I
might find Him!" We must hare a God
to whom ws msy say, "Father, into Thy
panda 1 commend my spirit" in the very
hour in which we msy hsve cried "My
God. my God, why bast Xhou forsaken
me?" Such ia the God and Father of our
Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. Such is
the God from whom nothing in the heights
or in the depths, nothing fn the past, the
prenent or the future could detach the
faith of Paul. Such is the God our need o(
whom msy bo revealed to tie at any mo
ment by the lightning flash of soma great
calamity. Such i the God our need of
whom will bear down upon our minds
more and more heavily aa we face mors
and more frankly the facta of life.
Here is a man who has been summoned
by a midnight measage to the bedside of
his child. As he goes from ferry to ferry
to ascertain by what routs be can reach
ber moat quickly, every man hs addresses
resds his secret and abows him kindness.
Connections are close. Over every signal
light that delays him the engineer sees a
night lamp in a sick room that teKi him
every second lost met be made iVThe
conductor nervously hurries T'li'r, jt'ttt
and on the train at every stop. Tim k-rs
is won. The father stands beside bis child.
There ore the doctors. There ore the
arses. There are friends. Everything
that human love and sympathy and skill
an suggest is being done. Where is thy
God? I say, father, where ia thy Ood?
Nature savs to him, "I have contrived a
little sack in your child's body. I have
filled it with poison. Within twenty-four
hours I propose to break it. If I break
it your child will die; If yon are willing
to tax otner cnances, let the surgeons re
move it. Then I will do tbe best I can
lor you.
Some men tell me that their God ia na
ture. Does your God thus speak His whole
mind? Why, that room where father is
uaaiug uu mm aiinu wnas answer lo give
to nature's ultimatum is flooded with pure
love. Everybody cares. Are yon ready to
aay "Everybody car but QodT There is
s aick child there to be accounted for.
There is a harsh ultimatum of nature to
be accounted for. But there an loving
hearts in that room to be aaeauntwl for
also. And there is a universal capacity for
sympathy and helpful action to be ao
eounted for. It is a scene which fairly
represents the tragedy" of the world pro
cess. In which aspects of it do you dis
cern ins woraing oi tne n:gner law m us
merciless Drosrcas of the d taenia or in
What is being done to save, to beat, to
eomfort? If titers is any purpose, or even
any tendency, to be discovered in such 4
scene, is it the triumph of pain and tbe
penecting ot cruelty that Is being pro
moted? or is it the perfecting of faith and
Christians ahould lrsow where to look
for God in such scenes. They will find
Him in nreciaelv tha nlaea in whirh the
would look for Jesus Christ, Sometimes
we wonder why so many miracles of heat
ins are recorded in tha raaneli. M is
not be because God wonts as to know
jt , p , H,m WBen w ara eonftont
ed by the elemental questions which sick
Bess and pain and death are nertain to
' our minds? It is the higher law
which ahould ever apeak to ns of God.
It Is with life and healina. with ln nJ
ear, that we are taught to associate the
ipougni oi upa, in the midst of hfe's eon
fusions we know in part. When that
which ia nrfM-fc U Mm &t .:ii -
be-iove. We can even think of ourselves,
when it is all over, looking back and sar
in It: ; ,
With mercy and with judgment .
My web of time He wove,
And aye tho dewa of sorrow
t,,!, ,ui!erd with His lovej
1 'J,,?1?? th ""d " guided,
I II b-ess the heart that planned, '
W hen throned where glory dwelleth.
In Emmanuel'a land." . '
rt1 ukB.to, think "f tht Positive aspects of
the First Cflmmiindmmt "Tl.. .Liu iT.
M other God before Me." That means,
stated I positive y: Thos shalt bave a God
ted--th.M h' Me for thy God
Thou shall .have a God. Jt is the first law
of the you! V own life. Thou shalt have a
Uod whom nothing can ever make it un
reasonable, for" you to truet It is the
soul s law of self preservation. How do
Was ktusw whan m A. L
J.1 need of faith lW
that of our dying Lord? Every man who
suffers needs it. Every man who thinks
needs it.
I ssythat every man who thinks needs
God. Ws are thinking here to-night We
pave been thinking some of the very
thought which have atolen away the faith
ol many a man and many a woman. We
have been faeina imit wliik u . l
mind into an agony. We have been dealing
wiin conaitions wnich faith has to reckon
wjth. I bave talked with men. the tumult
of whose minds made roe think of the
north coast wavea. aa Robert 1..:. R(.
yenson describes them, in alt the terror of
Ium' iht ! of them to wreck
tbs frail barka in which men voyage. There
may be minds incapable of fcimult. There
Siay be people who -cannol understand
ow any question relating to religion can
so stir the mind. A young man who
thinks awl who knows how to think said
to ma not long ago: "I am swimming for
my life." And be reproached Christian
ministers for their aparent failure to real
ise that there ara multitudes like himseU
who are wrestling with the great underly
ing questions of God or no God, soul or ns
soul, immortality or annihilation liberty
or necessity.
Such a man wrote a little while ago to
the editor of a wril known periodical.
Prayer, the Bible, Christ, miraeiee, these
were the subjecta in thinking about which
he had becoute bemJ lred. lie calls loud
ly for help. It Woinl be ey to ear that
be had limply got himsf f lino "a mate of
rtimt'' attfl tnt it wihi. d ay no g.d to
rwm ni.ii h-ti. .:i v it wh.-d v
-how to reach the masses while I want
hear (and never do hearl about the
rtdamf-ntal. alptnentarv nrincinlea of re-
iigionj as man uumortai ia iner uwi.
Ind if to, why does. He leave us in doubt?
Whst i tb Christian religion1 reduced to
Its siMpiest expression 7 I am lick oi pisti
iudes; evasions and glittering generalities.
I want to be treated With sincerity. I
want to hear the simple truth, not "as to a
little child," but as to s grown man, who
mutt reason as well as feel, s man who
haa sinned and suffered and, now fain
would find k safe anchorage far his soul
in this sea of doubt and trouble."
The editorial article written in answer
to this communication breathes the spirit
of Him who went to His disciples in tha
storm 'with which they were battling on
Galilee. It says very little about the
troublesome questions the man has raised.
It takes God and the soul for granted. It
reduces religion to its simplest terms and
lets it go at that for tbe present. Whether
it hss accomplished anything for the
storm-tossed correspondent I do not know.
But I do know some whom it has helped
and Others whom it ia likely to help. Men
of whose spiritual vicissitudes I have some
knowledge have spoken of it with grati
tude. The narrower method of sectarian, dog
matic insistence ia perilous. The existenaa
ef a denomination may depend upon tha
observance of tbe teventh day of the week
aa the Sabbath. But it ia a ruinous thing
for a young norson to get tho idea that the
exiatence of God is wrapped up in that
dogma and that he might aa well abandon
the religious life altogether as to let that
dogma go. It haa been an element of de
nomfnstionol strength to have certain fixed
ideaa wjth reference to the proper mode
and subjects of baptism. But it is a spirit
ual misfortune if a young Baptist baa not
a pastor wise enough to tell him, if he lets
go this doetriiN, that religious life is quito
possible without it. It is possible to cher
ish snd to insist on views of the Bible, the
modification of which seems to some, when
they find it necessary, to threaten the very
foundations of their faith in God.
Religion ia an affair of the soul and God.
The Bible, the. church, the creeds, the sac
ramenta are designed to serve the soul and
God in this high and holy relationship.
God haa a life in the souls of men which
these means are meant to promote and
never to hinder. They do not come be
tween the soul and God. Some sweet old
mystic haa said: "The eye by which I seo
God ia the same eye by which He sees me."
And we may say, also: "The longing with
Which we long for God is the lonijing with
which He longs for us. The love with
which we love Him is from the fountain of
His love for us." In a relationship which
is the sharing, the identity of life, what
room ia there for intermediary means and
niinisteriee? We have precious documents,
precious doctrines, precious aacramenta and
ordinances. But it is not they that give
life to the soul. They do minister richly
to that life, but it is, as it were, from
without that they minister. If the soul
ever really knows God at all, it knows Tlim
Ss it knows itself. The soul is sure of it
self. By the aame sort of certitude it ia
sure of God.
Don't get the iden that y.m can prove
the existence of God. Borne day you may
fall in with a man who is a better reasomr
who will take the other side. Then, if you
really think you believe in God because
you can prove that He exists, you may find
your faith badly shaken. "Every one that
loveth ia begotten of God and knoweth
God. He that loveth not, knoweth not
God; for God ia love." We know God with
that immediate kind of knowledge with
which we know the feelinga of our own
hearts. If it is possible for us to love, it is
possible for us to know God snd to know
that we know Him, And John tells ua
that the proof there hvaOod ands)
known and that we know Him, is thefame
kind of proof, the very same proof, that
We must give, if we say that we love.
Luke tells ua how .Teeus sent out seventy
of His disciples to do in all the towns of
Galilee as they had seen Him do. They
hesled the sick. They preached the gospel
of the kingdom. Men and devils gave heed
to them. They returned to Him with
great joy to tell Him all. As He listened
to them, aa He looked into their faces, He
rejoiced. Thev had understood Him. It
was then that He said: "I think Thee. O
Father, Lord of Heaven and Earth, that
Thou didst hide these things from the
wise and prudent and didst reveal them
unto babes." He has succeeded. Plain
men, seventy of them, had come to know
God through Him.
To every minister of His, to every fol
lower, Jesus is saving: "Enter into this su
preme joy of thy Lord. This is the joy for
you to seek; this is the success for which
you should work and pray; that through
?ou men may come to know God." It was
or this very thine tba Ho save thanks
tbe night before He died. To some He
knew He had given eternal life. And what
sould He aay in His thanksiiving that
Would be more pleasing to His Father than
what He did say? "And this ia life eter
nal, that they might know Thee, the only
true God. snd Jesus Christ, whom Thou
hast sent"
Aa we begin our work, the words ot the
beautiful old prayer ring in my ears: "O
God, from whom all holy desires, all good
counsels and all juat works do proceed."
We want our fellowship in service to be
prompted and accompanied by holy desires,
guided by good counsels and abounding in
just works. The desire to know God is
the holiest, of all desires, the deepest foun
tain of good counsel, the mot effective in
spiration of just works. Msy it be the
honest snd the constant desire of our
hearts!
GAMES FOR THE CHILDREN.
A dry. land! crab . race is a very
amusing game for tho little ones, fend
is played In this 'manner; A starter
and an um.plro are needed for the
crab roco, which should; be run on
soft green turf. Ten yards or thirty
feet Is quite long enough for H, Tile
racers kneel down on all fours and
form In lino at tbe starting point,
with their backs toward tbe winning
post : At the signal off they go, each
one crawling backward.
Tbe race is not always to the swift
It Is not at ' alt easy to keep in a
straight lino, and every time a racer
turns to took over hl shoulder he
loses time and ground. .. There will be
collisions, bumps, and all sorts of
little mishApsv which will thoroughly
amuse the spectators and the chil
dren, too. ' "'.".. " ' . '
Though lawn lg not very hard
upon stocVinga, small beings, who
wear sock are mostly encouraged by
their nurfos to enter this raoe, and
young Jack. Tars in immaculate white
ducks, are tdvlsed to refrain from the
contest. - ; -
To furnish a ddll's house collect as
many corkvi and bungs as you can and
get a few s-unces of colored beads, all
one size, ftth two or three dozen big
ones, a p'iket of pins, and a small
skein of wool. Alice up tho corks
crosswise ' make the seats of tbe
chair and th table tops. The bungs
wilt do for ihe sofa seats .
Slip half dozen of the beads on
a pin, putt.ag a big one on first of
all, and dlj tlie points Into the slices
of cork to sbake the chair legs. The
chair and irtfa backs are made with
plain ptfls, and the wool laces across
them from thle to side. It the furni
ture is to very grand paint the
tori with -mel and gild It .
..... 1 j
LOYAL.
"Doesn't Miss Gradwnfe look odd
with her cheeks rninteJ red and the
r, t of her f.ica so 1 "?"
"Ye
3't
f - . OALL'8 THE THING. -
in this life's unceasing battle with Its
, racket snd Its rattle, with its gab
V and tittle-tattle, i . . : ;
Love and hate, - - k'
When Its winning and reverses, when
its blessings and its curse, woes
Its fat and empty purses
Alternate
When at nuances you are nabbing, into
every scheme nre dabbing aud at
every root are grabbing
Lest you fall,
Though you've nerve to face tbe reoket
underneath your business jacket,
you must bave a foroe to back it,-
Whloh is fjall.
Denver Post,
JUST
"What platform does that political
speaker favor!" "The lecture plat-.,
form, chiefly." Washington Star.
Bacon "He went to the fancy- dress
ball in a costume made ot old letters."
Egbert "Bort or a suit or mall, eht" t
Yonkers Statesman. ' t
Rodhorse Dan "Kin ye handle a
gun, stranger?" Percy Boulevarder
"I don't have to. I own an auto."
Baltimore American.
Ward "Buy, you ain't going to vote
ror Bender, are you? He's crooked,
you know." Street "Yes, but he Is on
the straight ticket." Boston Tran
script. Wife "I hope you talked plainly to
him." Husband "I did Intend, I told
him he was a fool, a perfect fool!"
Wife (approvingly) "Dear John! How
exactly like you!" Punch.
"When you say thot a thing Is 'well
enough as It Is ' what do you mean,
father?" "That you think It ought to
be Improved at once but that you're too
lazy to fix It." Brooklyn Life.
"Why Is she so strenuous to main
tain the proprietory of a woman marry
ing a man 20 years older than herself T
One would almost suppose she bad
done so." "That's Just what she wish
es you to suppose." Puck.
"Well, my friend Jones has been
elected," said the efflceseeker. "I want
to send him somo flowers. yVhat would
you suggest?" "Forget-me-nots would
be just the thing for you," replied the
wise friend. Philadelphia Ledger.
McQueery "Hasher's comic opera
had its prraiere performance last
night, eh! You were there, of course."
Crlttick "Oh yes." McQueery "Was
any of the music new?" Crlttick
"Yes, at one time." Philadelphia
Press.
Henry, lkmmmWCmtmxrvfr "He needs
rousing; I think a mild shock would
help him." Mrs. Crisscross "That's
easy; I'll tell blm I ordered three new
dresses this morning. "-nChlcago Dally
News.
'The mills of the gods grind slowly,"
quoted the long-faced man in tbe black
coat "Why don't they put In somo
modern machinery?" asked the man
from Minneapolis. "Up our way they
turn out 600,000 barrels a day." Cin
cinnati Tribune.
"Look here!" exclaimed the irate
housekeeper. "Don't you know gas
comes out of the furnace you sold me?"
"Well, what do you expect to come out
of a cheap furnace?" demanded the
stove dealer. "Electric lights?" Chi
cago Daily News.
"So you have taken your son Into the
bank to work his way up from the bot- ,
torn? How is he doing?" "Oh, fairly
well. He reported for duty twioe last -week
and hung around for nearly an
hour each time, In spite of the fact .
that (here was a golf tournament go
ing on." Chicago Record-Herald,
Historian "Boy, is this the field up-'
on which tbe great battle was fought?"
Native boy "No, rur; that be it at
the top of that hill. Historian "Dear,
dear! That hill must be quite a mile
away! (Playfully) Why ever didn't
they fight it In this field?" Boy "I
suppose because this here vleld belongs
to Varmer Jonson. He never will lend
bis vlelds for anything, not even for
V village sports!" Punch. .
L .
; Too Costly to Qlve Away. -
Among the first class passengers on
a home-bound transatlantic steamship
! was a young woman whose extreme
economy had not permitted any lavish
expenditures during tbe foreign tour.
It . was, consequently, with commend
able pride that she referred repeated
ly to tbe material for two silk dress
es purchased at a bargain, which she
was bringing home to her mother and
sister. Even the suggestion of one
sympathetic listener that she would
probably have to pay duty produced
merely a temporary restraint . In tbe -complacency
with which she viewed
her proposed generosity. ,. ,
At last, when the steamship ap
proached New York and the custom
house officer received tbe somewhat
plain young woman at the cabin ta
ble, her fellow passengers were curi
ous. Being asked the usual questions
about duuable poperty, she replied
stoutly and defiantly that she bad the
material for two silk dresses.
. "Are they for yourBelt?" the Inspec
tor demanded. .. ,
"No," she declared, "they are not I '
am bringing them home for presents."
.- "Then, since they're not for your
own use, I shall be compelled to
charge you duty," and he announced
the required amount.
Later she was beard to say, In a vin
dictive manner, "That bos made those
dresses cost me so much that I sim
ply can't afford to give them away
now. I'm Just going to keep them, for
myself." Youth's Companion. i
A Serious Prospect.
"Just think of what It Is to have no
home" said the man who was Bik
ing for 25 cents.
"That's Jimt what 1 nra thinking of,"
anawerod Mr. Meokton. "My nif ij
going to clfn house again very s.v.n."
Wo -hit-' !n Blnr.
,1 hnti
Iris 1
.'v.'.-
FOR FUN
V.