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IK E88E&TIAL8, UNITY; VOL. XLIII. IN NON-ES8ENT1ALS, LIBEilii IN ALL THINGS, CHARITY. RALEIGH, N. C., THURSDAY, OCTOBER 9, 1890. NUMBER 19. Thu Christian Sijn, \ TERMS OF 8UB8CRIFTI0K i | (cm n» ADTAHras.) One year, poetrge 1 alluded.. S lxmmuis. “ . M (f AMR Of AOViRTIIBMOi )ii0 square, tun'llnea, nrut inserting Fot eaoh subsequent Insertion.. . Jj Oae square three months.Jm One square six months..y|«j One square twelve months... Advertisers changing treejjjgPn a special agreement TejfSp"' will pay monthly or quaif • in a Transient advertisements Ur fer pali nsertlon. 1 S3? The Christian Sun. PUBLISHED IVRY THURSDAY BT Riv. J. PRESSLEY BARRETT OUR PRINCIPLES: 1. The lx>rd Jesus Christ Is the only Head of the Church. , a. The name Christian, to the exclusion of all party or sectarian names. 3. The Holy Bible, or the Scriptures of the Old and New Testaments, a sufficient uie of faith and practice. 4. Christian character, or vital piety, the only test of fellowship or membership. 5. The right of private judgment and the libf rty of conscience, the privilege and duty of all. OUK LIGHT HOUSE. “Let the lower light* be burning." When the World lsuff lid er ness. To be without fViends is to find the world » wilderness. Lord Bacon. The Bible lu the School. ‘Wherever Ihe Bible is not made the foundation stone of education, of so ciety, and of every form of life, there is no literature lor children or for the people. Look' at Spam, Italy, and evea France—in a word, at every country in which the Bible is not read; nowhere is there any reading for the child or the laborer. In Germany and England, on the contrary, there exists a Christian children's and popular literature, in which, as in a mirror, the national spirit is clearly reflected. St. Hilare. When not Appreciated. We were conversing some weeks ago with a philanthropic gentleman who for twenty five years has been engaged in a hard and unremune'rative field of labor, and whose efforts have not met the appreciation they so richly deserve. When we asked him if he Were seriously disappointed at this result, he quietly said: ‘When 1 do a good thing and it is not appre ciated, my Offry -remedy ts to do some other good thing/ To our miud, this is a most Christian utterance. Are the disciples of the Lord Jesus to faint and tatter in their toils because the world does not applaud them? H. Clay Trumbuu.. The Talue of the Converts. The value of the converts m anv given revival of religion will depend largely upon the quality of the preach ing under which they arc converted That is to say, if the preaching be shallow, void of thought, or heterodox the converts are likely to show this fact in the weakness, instability, and general imperfection of their Christian experience. It is, therefore, a matter of the gravest importance that those who occupy tbq pulpit during a reviv al season Bhould be specially careful to deliver tbe message of the gospel with all the clearness, force, and unction that they can possibly command. H. 0. Trumbut.l. Shams. We need, nowadays, upright men in downright earnest, who say what they mean, and mean what they say, Cheating in trade, cheating in religion, cheating in talk, must not be put up with any longer. Old Father Honesty is the man for our money. None of your painting and gilding; give us the real thing. There would be a great fall in sheepskins if all the wolves were stripped, but stripjied they ought to be, the rascals! Let each one of ua begin to mend the world by putting off every bit of sham — that we may have had about us. Off with the trumpery finery of pretence. Show the smock frock, or the fustian jacket, and the clump boots, and don't be ashamed.' Chas. H. Spurgeon. Do Sing. •Dear brother, dear sister, sing! Don’t sit in church with your mouth closed like a steel-trap, but open it wide and sing. And sing all the way through. Don’t think that the organist and the minister are to give you a sacred concert, but remember that you, your very self, are to take an ac tive part in the worship ot God, and open your mouth and sing- It may be you are not a fine singer—tew of us are. You need not attempt to lead the congregation in singing,unless you know that you can do it* But you j can sing well enough to take part. Above all, do not sit and look into [ tutunty while your pastor strains soul and body to hlave the hymn sung. Get a hymn-book and look up the hymns and sing. And if you yrill not sing, please do not criticise those that do the best they ean. Better a tone that is incorrect than none at all. This word is to all the silent worshippers in our churches/ Moravian. The Conversion of An Inildel. Dr. Eremete Pierotti, a French scientist, architect, and engineer,many years ago, when an infidel, journeyed through Palestine with the avowed in tention of disproving the truth of the Bible. Visiting the heap of stones over Absalom's grave, he sat down to meditate with a heart full of unbelief, and while be tarried there an Arab woman came by with her little child windfall* held by the hand. In pass ing she threw a stone upon the heap marking the tomb of Absalom, and bade her child do the same. ‘What do you do that for?’ ‘Because it is the grave of a wicked son who dis obeyed his father.’ ‘And who was he?' ‘The son ofDavid,’ she replied He started as if a blow had struck him. Here was an Arab woman, a Mohammedan who probably had never scon a copy ot the Sciiptures, and could not read a word oi them, yet she held these ancient tacts and was teaching her child to fling a stone at a momment called by the name of the son who rebelled against his father. Dr. Pierrolti,‘Bible in hand, turned to the story of Absalom, and as he read it a new light shone on him. This was the first of many convictions which so wrought upon him, that at length be embraced the faith he once attempted to destroy, and devoted bis life to the proof and illustrations ot the Sacred Scriptures. Anonymous. An Excellent Lesson. Once when traveling in a stage coach I met a young lady who seemed to be on the constant lookout for some thing laughable; not being contented with laughing herself, took great pains to make others do the same. Af er a while an old woman came run ning across the fields, swinging her bag at the coachman, and in a shril) voice begging him to stop. The good natured coachman drew up his horses and the lady, coming to the fence by the roadside, squeezed herselt through two bars which were not only in a horizontal position, but very near to. gether. The young lady made some ludicrous remarks, and the passengers laughed. It seemed excusable, or in getting through the fence the poor {woman had made sad work with her old black bonnet. This was a new piece of fun,, and the girl made the most of it. She caricatured the old lady upon a card; pretended, when she was not looking, to take patterns of her bonnet, and in various other ways tried to raise a laugh. At length the poor woman turned a pale face toward her. ‘My dear,’ said she, ‘you are young and happy ; I have been so, too, but am bow decrepid and forlorn. This coach is taking me to the death bed of my child. And then, my dear I shall be alone in tbe world.’ The coach slopped before a poor-looking house,and the old lady feebly descend ed The stepe. ‘How is she?’ was the fijst inquiry of the poor mother. ‘Just alive,’ said a man who was leading her into the house. Putting up the steps, the driver mounted his box,and we were on the road again. Our mer ry young friend had placed her card m her pocket. She was leaning her head upon heT hand; and I was not sorry to see a tear upon her fair young cheek. It was a good lesson. Exchange. Faith. ‘We have not quoted these pas sages as though boasting that Stanley had become an advocate of orthodox views. We do not conclude that he has reached that point. We rejoice to see faith In God, resort to prayer, and gratitude acknowledging the Lord's gracious answer. Faith has grown scarce on the earth, and yet nothing great and good is ever done without it God has decreed that the dark continent shall not be explored without a measure of faith m the breast of the bravest oi its pioneers. If divines become doubters, the Lord will find believers among explorers; and these shall go into the darkness ot Africa, that they may see the light of his presence. Mungo Park was comforted by the Lord by a tiny mor sel of moss, and Livingstone was pre served by him when most people gave him up for lost; and now, from the awful gloom of endless forests, Stan Icy cries unto the living God, and lives to bear witness to the faithlulness of the prayer-bearing Jehovah. Onr courage fails not for the cause of iaitb —we mean the cause ol God. He is the Creator of faith, and he will not cease to raise up believers who shall bear witness to his name. These may have many imperfections, as had Gideon and Jephtbah and Samson ;but the possession of faith in God ennobled them, and made them ol another race than godless men of the world. Their tollies were to be deplored, tor they were but men; but their faith was all the more remarkable, since it made such faulty ones to lie strong to the Lord and in the power of his might. Faith is the evidence of a life which sees the invisible and grasps the spiritual. It may be found in conncc tion with much that is erroneous in thought and wrong in act; but it is of a puritying and elevating character, aud is man's wing by which he rises to higher and better things. Given laith, and you have the beginning ol all the graces, the germ ol perfection. In itself it is a virtue, and it becomes the mother of virtues. Because it came from God, it knows its Creator, and all its breathings are after him. Love cannot be far behind where faith leads the way; and after love comes gratitude, then obedience and conse cration and holiness are sure to follow In bearing his testimony to God and prayer, Stanley has done more good to the world than could have been wrought by a thousand down grade discourses, and we even venture to say that God has received more true worship from the utterances we have quoted than from all the organs that ever pealed forth their windmade music beneath the vaulted roofs of cathedrals and temples. The sigh of a wearying heart is a grander thing than the choicest product of mechani cal skill; but the song of the believing soul is most sweet to the ear of God. May the Lord who has brought an intrepid spirit humbly to bow before him lead him trustfully to rejoice in saf* vation through the Son of God!' Ciias. II. Spurgeon. A Knot In the Skein. They made a pretty picture, did grandmother and little Dot. Grand mother sat in her low rocking-chair, with her glasses pushed back above her forehead, and before her stood Dot holding outstretched a brilliant skein of wool upon her chubby little hands. ‘Hurry up, grandma,’ said Dot, with a slight frown, ‘you’s so slow.’ Grandma took no heed, apparently, but went on with the utmost precis ion. Slowly the yarn reeled over the chubby thumbs, slowly went on the winding about grandma s bail. Dot stood first u| on one foot, then the other, liltt a barn-yard fowl, and gave at intffVals a tremendous sigh as evidence of her weariness. ‘iou’#zasperatin,’ she at last spoke out; ‘really and truly, drandma, you's old zasperatin’ kisself.’ ‘What?’ cried the startled old lady, who had been intent upon her wind ing, or perhaps lost in reverie of other days; ‘What is that you are saving, Dot?' *1 gam you was a ^asjjeiauu uiu poke,’ replied Dot, firmly. ‘I is most tired to deaf, and there you go on windin' jes’ as if you was asjeep,'_ ‘Well, I never,’ gasped the old lady. - I pretended to be inten^. upon the wortrBefore mc“yet could scarce" re frain from laughing aloud. ‘Tired, eh?’ queried grandma with a twinkkK in her eye; ‘well, we will soon be through, and you can lie down and rest.’ ‘No, I am going out to jump rope,’ incautiously said Dot, ‘with Willie aud Rose. They’re jumping now, don’t you hear 'em, grandma?’ ‘Ah, ypu are going to rest your weary limbs by jumping rope,’ re plied grandma. „‘Well, so that you won't be entirely used up, suppose you sit on this chair,' pulling one be side Dot. Dot sulkily complied, but as she did so dropped her hands in leigned weariness. ‘See,' cried grandma, ‘you are let ting strands of the wool slip over your fingers. Hold up your hands, dear, and we will soon lie through,’ and on went the old lady, placidly and slowly winding as before. Dot for a space looked the picture of youthful resignation, but soon her impatience returned. ‘Hurry up,’ she cried, vehemently. ‘You're enough to ’zasperate the pa tience of Job,’ and again l saw her slyly drop a loop or two irom her fingers, as she moved restlessly upon the chair. Grandma looked at her reprovingly but hastened somewhat her move ments. There was a pause presently 1 in the winding. The old lady brought her spectacle* down from her fore head, and pedred at the skem of wool. ‘There's a enarl,' she said, ‘dear, dear, how did that come?' ‘It’s an awfnl bard knot,’ cheerfully said Miss Dot, after grandma had made several a'tempts to disentangle the snarl, ‘I dess you had iictler net it all right, drandraa. and we’ll wind the ball 'nother time.' ‘Oh, no, Dot, we’ll get it all right now,' replied grandma, with a jerk. Snap went the strand. Several minutes were consumed in straighten ing the skein, and grandma carefully knotted the broken threads togetl cr before resuming her winding. The sounds of laughing and jump mg outside the window came borne m upon the stillness of tlie. room. Another petulant movement from Dot. ‘I is so nervous, I can't hold stiP,’ she next exclaimed, impatiently tug ging at the wool. ‘Pear, dear, another knot,' cried grandma, peering over her spectacles at Dot. ‘Why, at this rate we will never get through.’ But at last it was done, and away scampered Dot, every vestige of ill humor banished from her pretty faeje. Grandma's glance met mine. ‘The wool Is for her own stockings,' quietly said she, ao if in answer to something she read in my eyes,’ 'ai)d I intend those knots shall teach her a lesson which mere words would fail to accomplish. Youthful experiences, if rightly impressed, may £ervc to guard the future from sterner ones.' ‘The old lady’s favorite expression, ‘I know,’ played about her firmly closed lips, but she gave no utterance to them as with the ball in hand she sat gazing upon pictures of the past— pictures whose lights and shadows were reflected in her own dim eyes, in the flitting smile up< a brow or lip. Well, if grandma had been slow in winding the ball, it was more than she was in lessening it again. How fast her needles flew! Early in the morning, late at night went on the knitting. Dot's eyesc watched the progress of the stockings, and her admiration was unbounded over their hue. ‘lied stockies, and a red hood, and red mitties? Mv. it 'pears Sunday won’t ever come?’ ‘Crimson,’ corrected grandma; ‘not red.’ But it mattered little to Dot what the color was named when she drew the bright stockings upon her chubby legs and over them again a pair of shining new shoes. ‘You will be proud of these stock ings,’ said grandma, on j Saturday night, as she rounded the toe with a bit of white wool, ‘because you helped me to wind the wool, you know, Dot.’ ‘Yes,’ assented the little one, with a proud air, ‘wasn’t I dood, grandma?’ ‘And youjwereso tired,too,’ went on grandma, ignoring her question. ‘And so nervous,’ responded Dot. ‘Yes, and you called me a ‘’zasper atin’ old poke,’ gravely answered grandma, ‘and snapped the thread on purpose to make me give over the winding. Dot opened wide her eyes. ‘How did you know that.?’ she queried. ‘Now, don’t say a ‘little bird’ told you, drandma. ’cause I’se Jjred to deaf bearin’ that story.’ ‘Never mind how I knew, Dot. The fact remains that there were knots in my fair ball of wool, and knots, you know,can never be straight ened out, never!’ Dot looked at her grandma reflec tively. ‘Didn’t you ever make knots in your drandma's wool?’ she asked so berly. ‘None but what I bad to pay for,' replied the old1 lady, suppressing a smile. -Knots are troublesome things, Dot, as you may find out before you are many days older.’ __ Off to Sunday school hied Dot the next morning, resplendent in new at tire. Grandma smiled grimly when she returned with a~ perceptible limp in her gait. ‘Somefln’ is hurtin’ my heel,’ she informed us at dinner, reluctantly. ‘Your new shoes, I suppose,' sug gested her mother; ‘you had best take them off and put on your o!d ones.’ But Dot demurred, and like hei elders, sometimes, for vanity’s sake endured the torture the remainder of the day. Grandma said never a word. J5ea time came, and with a sigh of reliei Dot drew off her shoe. ‘It's in my stockie,’ said she, after due examination; ‘there’s two dread big knots in the heel.’ ‘Knots?’ echoed grandma. There was no stupidity about our! bright Dot, and she understood all the meaning conveyed in a grandma's tone and look at once. ‘Knots of impatience, Dot,’ I couid not refrain from saying, ‘tor which you have suffered all day long-’ ‘And undutil'ulness,’ added grand ma, ‘and covert untruthfulness.’ Dot turned the color of her stock ing9' ‘You might have smoovs& ’em out,' she said, carefully examining her blistered heel. ‘Out of the wool, perhaps,’ answer ed grandma earnestly, ‘but not so easily the knots when . formed in the skein of character, Dot.' Several days after, grandma beck oned me to approucb an open door. Within could be heard the voices of Dot, Wnne, and llosc. An alterca tion was evidently in progress con ccrning the destruction of a doll. In a rocking chair sat Dot with a pair of grandma's spectacles on her node. Qiavely she peered over them at the flushed face of Willie. ‘Who hroke Dolly's bead?' she questioned. •ltose!’ answered he, promptly. ‘Dear, dear,’ exclaimed Dot, bend ing forward, such a snarl as you are dettin’ the skein into, Willie.' •What skein?’ asked he sulkily. ‘Did you or didu’L you break Dolly's head?’ she contmued without answer ing his question. ‘No, 1 didn’t!"this very emphati cally. ‘ Nnther knot in the skein,' said Dot, imitating grandmas tone and manner to perfection, • nother dreat big knot, my child, 'cause—'cause I 3aw you do it.' An impressive silence, broken only by Willie’s sniffles.' ‘Keep on tellin' stories, Willie,’ gravely went on the little mooitor, and you’ll det all tangled up like— like a skein of wool when you let your hands drop. Then comes knots, and Knots never can be smooved out, never. They’ll get knitted into your hide, my child, and—and div’ you a heap of torment. I know 1’ and push ing the spectacles hack upon her head. Dot sank into a gentle reverie, so much lake her grandma’s that the smile died from our lips, and the dear old lady, as wc tip-toed back to our tocm, said in trembling tones: Heaven bless the child!'—AVja York Observer. A (food Test. In an Eastern town, the board of selectmen, who governed its local af fairs, was composed of four Uuiversa lists (of men who contended for the final happiness of all mankind, wheth er Christians or not), and a pious physician. They acted through the year in great harmony as to the busi ness of the town,’but, at their last meeting, it was determined to attack the religious doctor. After they had finished iheir transactions, one of them said:— ‘Doctor, we have been very happy in being associated with you the year past, and that the business of the town has been conducted in harmony, and to the satisfaction oftour constit uen's. Wc have found you to be a man of good sense, extensive infor mation, unbendiDg integrity, and oi the purest benevolence. It is asten ishiug to us, that a man of your amia ble character should believe in the doctrine of future punishment. The Doctor replied: ‘Gentlemen, I should regret very much the forfeiture of the good opinion which your par tiality has led you to entertain of me. Wiil you have the goodness to answer candidly a few questions? Do you believe in a future state?' They leplied, ‘We do.’ ‘You believe that death will intro duce all men to a state of perfect hap piness?’ ‘01 this we have no doubt.’ ‘Are you now happy?’ ‘We are not; we are far from it.’ ‘How do men act when they are inbappy, and know that happiness is within their reach?’ ‘They eudeavor to attain that hap piness.* ‘Do you believe that I understand the nature and operation of medicine?’ ‘We have no doubt, Doctor, of your skill in your profession; but what has that to do with the subject?' ‘In tins box,’ said the Doctor, tak ing a tin box in his hand, jare pills, which if you swallow each ot you one, will, without pain, carry you, within one hour, out ot this world oh trouble, and, if your doctrii# lie true, place you in a world ot perfect;., felicity. Will you accept one of them?’ ‘No, sir.’ ‘Will youV ‘No, sir.’ When they had all refused, the Doc tor said:— ‘You must excuse me, gentlemen, from embracing your doctrine, until L have better evidence that you believe it yourselves.' This closed the debate. —Episcopal Record. We have our temperance societies, and l presume they are needed. We have our societies for the suppression of vice, and I suppose they are need ed. And we have societies ior the better observance of the Sabbath, and t suppose they are needed. We, tor the present distress, divide up the whole of goodness into lections, and fight the battle of evil in ‘pieces,’ so to speak. But when God comes to deal with us He takes purity and goodness and holiness as a whole, and by putting the inspiration of child hood to God and the hope of eternal life into our lives, lie sets us to pu rify ourselves even as Christ is pure. That . includes everything. When you are intent upon being as Christ, as you will be temperate, you will be manly. You will love God and hate evil and suppress it, first of ail in jourselt. You will be pure in life be cause pure in heart, and pure in heart because you expect to see God.—Dr. John Hail. Wanted-Preachers A writer in one ot our contempora ries has this to say about the lack ot preachers in our church: ‘Coming over in an ocean steamer last summer there were seven of our clergy, not one ot whom a u'd be in duced to address tiie steerage passen gers at some informal meetings wh'ch were held every day. There can be no doubt as to the reason. They did not know what to say to such people or how to say it. They were readers of sermons. At a charch in Philadelphia, two Sundays ago, the wind blew the preacher's notes away, disseminating bis views through the congregation much to his consternation, lie was obliged to send the choir boys around to gath er mem up (which ought to have set tled ail objection to a hoy-chotr), but unfortunately the leaves had not been numbered, and the preacher occasion ally came to a dead halt like a blind horse against a stone wall, which had the effect on him and his congregation of a sudden stop or start on the cable cars. One would sup pose that a man who had been edu cated to preach the Gospel might ad dresB a htmdred people once a week on what some of ns still regard a ‘burning question' sin and its con sequences—without manuscript If he can’t remember his sermon him self, how can he expect anybody else to remember it? •This man had been found after a long search through the Church for | some one for an important post, and is tair sample of our clergy. Out of over a hundred of them in this qjty there are only five or six who will undertake to address the 1,500 non church-goers who constitute the con gregation every Sunday night at the theatre services. Several years ago a distinguished divine attempted to read to them a sermon, and the thea tre emptied itself so rapidly that he was obliged to desist and allow the service to be closed in due form. He often spoke there afterward without notes, and Dot one person left untii he finished. The worst ot . it all is, there is no hope of better things in the future, and Mr. Moody, with his proverbial common sense, has drawn attention to the fact that the trouble lies tu the theological school. Our divinity students are being educated away from the people. A short time ago some one was wanted one Sunday afternoon to address a small congre gation of colored people in the most squalid neighborhood in the city, and out of about thirty students in our divinity Bchool, there were onlj three that would have ventured npou such a duty. The rest were reaaing little sermons at Mission stations, and never contemplated any other kind of preaching.' Trust and Du Wood. The Psalmist says: ‘Trust in the j Lord, and do good,’ There are vol umes of meaning in these few words. Observe the vital order of the phrase: First trust and then do good. You cannot do any great and permanent good unless you fully and firmly trust in the Lord. You may prattle good words and imitate the actions ol a saint without trusting in the Lord. Hut to do really good, belpfui aud saving service to your fellow men„ you must first gel fitted for it fiy let ting your heart so rest op Christ that it shall become magnetized aud ener gized bv the power of his heart. It is puch ones who thus get enthused and empowered that do the most good in the world. It is not necessa ry to quote examples which illustrate the truth of this statement. Think of the men and women who have ac complished much good in various lines of Christian and philanthropic service. You may wonder what the secret of their conspicuous success is; but it is no secret. The plain fact is, they ‘have trusted in the Lorij with all their hearts; and, as a natural and forcible consequence of such trusting, fruitful good in large measure has followed. If the members of our churches would do mote good they must trust more in tho Lord—not in organizations, not in the machinery of'bands and ‘leagues/ but in f/te Lord. He should be the warm cen tre of heart-trust, first and firmest; aud then* with the fresh filiiug from the power derived from him you may use all necessary"‘societies’ as conse crated instruments in carrying on every form of good work. Trust with all your heart, and then work with all your might doing good. A Test of Courage. One of the severest tests of courage is to carry on one's life quietly and faithfully under the cloud of great uncertainty; something which makes it uncertain in what direction ones'* activity is hereafter to be. put forth. This is not an uncommon experience but although it happens to many il is never on that account the easier ti bear. Living by faith has always involved a struggle even tor the mos heroic souls, and most of us learn f by the most painful process. Nev ertheless, it we are to live with ani strength aud peace, learn it we mus 8 jooer or later. If one broods over an uncertainty, strength is paraljzed and work halt done. The roan who worries loses the power which comes from concentration and a calm put ting forth of his whole force. There is nothing to be gained by this -brood ing; there is everything to lie lost. A strong life is one which commands itself, and do?.s not give up the rud der to every wind of circumstance. When the time of uncertainty comes to a strong man, he is not deflected from the thing in hand; if possible be puts more strengh and skill into it; not defying fortune, but accepting Providence by that calm doing of one’s work which goes with con sciousness 'bat the honest laborer is worthy of bis hire, and that work well done to day means the opportu nity of more work to-morrow. Take your life bravely and strongly. If uncertainties come into it, meet them with quiet courage and good cheer. Above all, keep your heart and hand in j'Our work, and trust the future to that divine Providence which has ordered the falling of everv sparrow. — (7hn»t ian Uniqn. Told in the Depot. One Christmas eve two or three years ago, as we stood in a group in the depot waiting room at Elmira there was a scuffle and loud words, and we turned to s&e the depot po liceman shoving a trampish looking man out of the place. It was a sight to make most of the crowd smile, as the officer was a large man and his victim a small one, but before he had him out doors, a well-dressed, fine looking man stepped forward and demanded: ‘Officer, has this man been guilty of any offense?' ‘He’s no business in here, sir,’ was the reply. ‘Why hasn’t he?' ‘Because he’s a tramp. My orders are to put ’em out.' ‘Just wait.’ He brought out his wallet, handed the forlou-looking stranger two crisp $10 bills, and then turned to the offi cer with: ‘Now, let him alone. A man with $20 in his pocket is no tramp.' 'God bless you, sir!’ whispered the recipient of his houuty as he looked at the money in great astonishment. ‘I’m onl$ down on my luck. I was waiting to get to Buffalo, where 1 hope to get a job, and I’m willing to work at anything; and to any price.' Some one ventured to ask the gen tleman for ,.an explanation of his lib erality, and be replied: ‘Just a year ago to night, in one of the towns on the Erie road, a tramp struck me lor a quarter and got it. He must have gone off on a freight train right away, and he got a lift of twenty odd miles before he was bounced. Pour hours later I took a train, and while passing from one coach to another lost my footing and was flung off. I struck on my head and shoulders, amt was rendered un conscious, though not very badly hurt. When I came too there was a quarrel over my body. Two men wanted to rob me, while a third was holding them off, and when they at tacked him he gave them such a drub [ bing that they hauled off. Then he ran to a farm house a quarter ol a mile away, routed out the people-, and. helped them carry me there. While j l could not speak, L heard all that was said. I heard him say that he [recognized me as the one who had ; befriended him that evening; and be fore he went away he insisted on tak ing an inventory of my personal prop erty. I had a watch, a diamond pin, and a thousand dollars in money; and everything was kept safe for me dur ing the two weeks 1 w$s in the house.’ ‘But* what became of the tramp?’ 1 have never seen him since. Af ter seeing me safe at the house he started oil', saying be would send a doctor from the nearest town, and 1 never had the chance to thank him.— A’. Y. Sun. \ Oofone of the wettest|days4of last week a countryman, who might have been taken for a prosperous farmer or a successful miner, was walking along Market street in the rain when he noticed a little girl in front of him, says the San Francisco Examiner. Her clothing was shabby and thin, and her shoes were almost ready to drop from her poor little , wet feet. Touched by the sight, the bluff old fellow stepped up to her and asked her to accompany him into a shoe store just at hand, and directed the salesman to tit the child with a good substantial pair of shoes. Alter trying on several pairs, all of which appeared to fit her feet very well, the old gen tleman said to her, pointing to the pair she had on, ‘What is the natter with those?-^-Ain’t they easy?’ Hes itating a moment, the child looked up and said: ‘Oh, yes sir; they are very comfortable, but, please, sir won’t you buy them big'fenough for mamma?’ ludian intelligence brings us just now a piece of news. At a marriage celebrated in Calcutta the other day the bridegroom was aged thirty-five, ltis bride is an infant nine monttis old. Chandra Dey may die before, his wife has learned to talk. In that case the horrors of perpetual widow < hood will begid for her at onee.
The Christian Sun (Elon College, N.C.)
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Oct. 9, 1890, edition 1
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