Newspaper Page Text
A Thrillinsf and Romantic Story
of the Late Civil "War.
nY JOHN B. 3IUSICK,
AUTHOR OF "BnOTHER AGAIKST BROTHM,"
Hxi.en Lakeuan," " Walter Unowit-
field," " Banker or BEDronD,"
and Other Stories.
Captain Smart, remembering tbo ad
ran tago Luke's suggestions bad been to
"I'll givoye any four men in my compa
ny ye want, if yo think they'll bo enough to
protect the people. I've tried t' stop their
stealin', but it don't seem in my power. It
you kin do it, yer welcome t' the detail."
Having the privilege of making his own
selection, Luko chose his mess Arkansaw
Tom, Ned Cotton, Bill Swain and Corporal
Max. Bill's wound was trifling, and did
not disable him.
""Whatyowantust' do?" asked Arkan
saw Tom, as they hurried down tho road
past tho advance guard.
" You are to protect a house."
'Mr. Jordan Kofi's."
"Union or Fccesh? "
"Tho family arc divided. The only son is
In tho Confederate army."
"They'll burn the house."
"You must not let them. Tho house and
inmates must bo shielded from insult."
"If ye say 't, we'll perfect 'cm, of it costs
us our livcsv"
"That is what Iwant you to do."
"It's settled," said old Arkansaw Tom.
" Wc'il pcrtect 'em, ur bite tho dust tryin'."
The old familiar farm-houso was ut last
in sight, and Luko felt his heart beating
high with hope and expectation as he neared
"I will sco her onco more," he thought.
"She will know that I have done this for
her sake, and that next to my country she
is tho dearest object of life."
, How peaceful and quiet seemed tho pleas
ant old country home. The tall poplars
and stately elms towered above the broad
lawn, and their leaves rustled in the breeze.
The flocks were bleating on the hills, and
distant tinkling of cow-bells camo to his
ears. Pigs were grunting in tho fence
corners, and busy bees hummed from flow
er to flower. The strange silence about
tho bouse caused an uneasy feeling to como
over him. When they reached the gate
they saw that tho house was closed, and had
tho appearance of being deserted.
Followed by his comrades, Luko has
tened toward tho front door, hoping by his
sudden return to give his betrothed a pleas
Only hollow echoes answered his knocks,
and at last, growing impatient, ho turned
tho knob and opened tho door. The room
was unoccupied. There was Mr. Neff's fa
vorite couch, with one cushion on tho floor,
as if tho occupant had quitted tho room
hurriedly. A few embers still smoldered
on the hearth, and LHlie's favorite chMr,
with her sewing on tho floor near it, .as
at the side of the couch. A crumpled news
paper in tho middle of the floor and the dis
arranged furniture all bore evidence of a
Filled with a strange dread, Luke has
tened to the next room, calling the name of
Lillie, with no answer save tho hollow echo
of his own voice.
Ho soon satisfied himself that tho house
was deserted. A warm dinner was smok
ing on the table in the dining-room, which
convinced him that tho house had been but
Hoping that tho owners might be near,
he ran to the garden, then to the negro
quarters, but they could nowhero bo
found. Ho was about to return when a
black face peeped out from a cluster of
woodbines at the rear of a chimney to one
of the negro huts, and a voico said:
"Massa Luke, am dot you!"
" Blackhawk, why arc you hiding there?"
"Hidin, massa; all do others am done
gone an' hided, an' so did L"
"Who are you hiding from?"
"Dun no, massa. All do odders dey
runs an' bided, an' dis chile did, too."
"Blackhawk, where is Miss LiUie?"
"Dun no, boss; she an' olo massa runs
likedodcbil war after 'em down into do
woods, an' lor mo heah by myself, an' den
I hided heah."
" Go after them tell them they shall not
"Couldn't find 'em, massa."
"Go and try. I must sco Lillie, and
have but a short time to stay. I must see
her father, too. I left so suddenly that
night that I did not get to say all I
" I km go, massa, but ten to one I don't
Tho bead withdrew into the woodbines, a
slight rustling noise and tho negro was
gone over the low fenco into the wood be
yond. When Luke returned he found his com
rades seated at the farmer's table helping
thomselvcs to the ready cooked dinner.
"As they've all vamoosed we thought it
best tcr keep this ar grub from spilin'," said
Luke felt inclined to deny them tho right
to appropriate the dinner of others, but, the
halt!" he CRIED.
pangs of hunger at last overcoming him, he
joined them in the feast.
Having satisfied their appetites the five
soldiers went to the front yard, where they
saw the advance guard of the little army
coming down the hilL
'Take your places in front of the fence,
and allow no one to come inside," said Luke.
The first soldier who attempted to force
his way inside was stopped by Arkansaw
Tom. who said:
"Ye can't come in."
"Why?" the man asked.
"Because we've orders ter pcrtect this
" Hain't they sece3h?"
"Dun make no difrence; we uns hev
orders, an''you 'ns kin go on."
The man turned to his companions, who
bad halted near, and said:
"They've got a guard thar an won't let us
"What 'f they hev!" cried a great, blus
tering, burly fellow. "Hain't they secesh?
Jfow let's go in an burn the house down."
'If ye do ye'll make trouble f ur yer
Bclves," said Tom.
"They're secesh, an' I'm ergoin' t' burn
th house. I'll see who's in't, too. Come
on, you 'ns, 'f ye hain't too big cowards."
Luke cast a glance at the old house be
neath whose friendly roof he had passed
bis happiest days. It was the home of his
iriends, the home of his betrothed and in
the attic was the old wooden cradle which
had borne his infant form on the flood. This
.ast relic of his mysterious babyhood would,
of course, perish with the house. He de
termined to defend it with his life.
Leaping on the flat-topped gate, tho re
cruit cocked his musket. The fire in thoso
eyes warned the men of tho danger.
"Haiti" he cried, so sharply that they in
stantly came to a stand-still. He glared
at them for amoment and said: "Don't al
low that bully to lead you to death, for I in
tend to shoot tho first man who attempts to
"Ye'r not sich cowards as to be skeercd
by him; go on," cried tho boaster, taking
care not to advanco a step himself.
"Stay where you are, men, and if ho wants
to burn tho house, let him como and try it."
"Yes, Zack, go an' burn tho house, and
we'll wait here," said one of the boaster's
But Zack was not quite so ready to go as
to send others. Ho stamped and swore he
would eat the earth, when Luko resolutely
but coolly assured him that he would get a
taste of it if he attempted to enter the gate.
"Hain't yo comin' ter help me?" Zack
"Taint no use," said an old farmer -looking
recruit, seating himself on the wood
pile. "There's only fivo on 'em, and ye say
yo kiu clean out a dozen any time. Yo don't
need us no, we'll stay hero and watch ye."
For a moment Zack hesitated between
pride as a bully and fear of tho musket.
Prido at last got tho better of his fears, and,
with a volley of oaths, ho took a step toward
the gate. Instantly Luke's gun covered his
A SAUCT REnEL.
Again the boaster halted and fixed his
eyes on tho resolute soldier upon tho gate.
There was no mistaking tho intent ot tho
recruit, and turning about Zack said:
"Oh, come on; tho main army '11 ketch
up wi' us d'rectly."
His companions gave utteranco to shouts
HE RODE FORWARD AND SEIZED HIS HtlKND
BT THE HAND.
of derisive laughter, and followed the
cowed bully down tho road.
'Yc've got grit n no mistake," Arkan
saw Tom said when tho others were gone.
"Iswow, I believe yo"d a shed his blood 'f
he'd a done it"
"I certainly would," Luke answered, de--
scending from his perch.
In a few moments stragglers began to
come along and tho men were kept busy to
prevent their stealing something or doing
The main column at last came in view,
with Captain Smart at tho head.
"Ye've saved it so far, I see," he said.
"I have, Captain, but I came very nearly
shooting one man to do it"
"You did right If ye find any o them
prowlin', or at any devilment here, let 'em
have it. I know old Jordan Neff, and he's
a good square man, and no 'n shall harm his
Louse. But ye'll And lots o' stragglers
follerin' us. The meanest ar' alters in th'
r'ar. Better stay hero till the last uns gone
As Luko intended asking this permission,
he readily assented. Tho main column of
about two hundred men, which Captain
Smart called an army, moved on.
The Captain was correct when ho said :
"Tho meanest ar' allers in th' r'ar," as
Luko soon discovered. It took lio little
courage and determination to hold the
scoundrels in check. Ho was forced to
knock ono down and prod another with his
bayonet before the stragglers of tho rear
guard could be induced to give up tho idea
of plundering tho house.
By tho time the last straggler "had gone
by, leaving tho houso unmolested, the main
body of troops was some four or five miles
Luke, with his guard, started to overtake
them. They jogged leisurely along the
road, picking up a straggler hero and there,
until their force numbered twelve or fif
teen. Tho idea that they were in any danger
from tho rear never for a moment entered
their heads until they were startled by tho
clatter ot horses' feet in that direction.
" What's that?" some one cried.
"Hosses, by jiminy!" Tom answered.
At this moment a black man, bare beaded
and baro footed, as most of tho field-hands
were, came running down tho road toward
" Run, massa foh do Lawd sake, run."
"Who is it, Blackhawk?" Luke asked.
"Rebs am comin' like do debil, massa;
more'n a thousand of um."
The earth trembled beneath tho heavy
thunder of hoofs, and Luke knew there
were not less than half a hundred horsemen
in their rear. A panic seized tho men, and
half of them ran away into tho woods on tho
"This way this way," said Luke, run
ning toward a cornfield on their right
Those who bad not already run followed
him, and just as tbey began to climb ovor
the fence the cavalry came in sight
Bangl baugl bang! went half a dozen
shots. With a scream a young man named
George Massin released his hold on the top
rail and fell into a fenco corner, struggling
in the agonies of death.
"Dod burn 'ein for tarn el skunks;
they haint got it all their way!"
cried Arkansaw Tom, laying his rifle
across the top rail and drawing a
bead on the foremost rebel. Luke, know
ing the deadly aim of the old scout of
the Arkansas, averted his head. A sharp
whip-crack-like report broke on the air, and
when he looked again a saddle was empty,
and a horse flying at the speed of the wind
down the road. The shot checked the Con
federates for a moment, and Luke's com
panions emptied their guns at them, still
more confusing tho cavalry, and wounding
a man and horse. Knowing that they could
not long withstand such a superior force,
Luke urged his men to fly across the field.
The corn was tall, and the overhanging
blades concealed them when a few rods
away. But they had not gone a fourth of a
mile before the corn terminated at a cross
fence, beyond which was a meadow, from
which the grass had been recently cut
They climbed the fence and ran at full
speed across tne meaaow toward a log
stable on the hilL
"Forward, over the fence and cut them
down!" they hear a clear7 ringing voice in
their rear shout The sound of that voice
sent a thrill through tho frame of Luke
Mason. He recognized the speaker, who was
doubtless in command of their pursuers, as
a personal friend, though a political enemy.
Reaching the log stable, Luke hurried the
men inside and said:
'Don't fire a shot until vou are compelled
to." Throwing down his gun, ho walked
down the hill unarmed to meet the Confed
erate cavalry, who were just leaping their
horses over the cross fence.
"Wharyegwine! where ye gwine!" cried
"To stop the rebels."
'Why, he's crazy; they'll riddle him with
bullets," groaned old Tom.
"Stay there, and all will bo right"
"With his arms peacefully folded, ho
marched down to meet the advancing Con
federates, who, completely astounded, had
reined in their horses to a walk. A few mo
ments later they were near enough to be
beard, and Luke called out :
KrKF l fcl if' 11 ,lm 'nMrnf
"Albert Neff! Halt your men and com.;
"Good heaven! it's Luke!" gasped AN
bert, his heart almost ceasing to beat
when he came to realize how near he had
come to taking his friend's life. His troop
ers stopped, and he rodo forward and seized
his friend by the hand.
"Luke," and his voice was quite husky,
"I didn't dream when we separated only a
few days ago that wo should meet in this
"Neither did I; but, Albert, I must ask
you to call off your troops. Tho four
men in the log stablo are men I chose to de
fend your father's house, your childhood
home, against the stragglers of ourariny;
but for them that homo would have been in
"I'll do it" said tho noble young fellow.
" It may not be according to military rules,
but I'll do it, if I lose my shoulder straps."
Wheeling his horse about, ho galloped
back to his men, and, after a moment's con
sultation, turned in his saddle and, waving
his hand to Luke, shouted:
"Go on, we'll not harm you."
Arkansaw Tom, who had witnessed the
strango maneuvers, on Luke's return
"Wall, I swow, it beats creation. How'd
ye turn 'em back so easy?"
Luko explained that tho rebel Captain
was the son of the man whoso houso they
had saved. They returned to the road and
took tho body of their comrado to tho
house of a Union man, where it was left for
burial. As they were hurrying down tho
road a dark figure suddenly wormed its
way out of tho thicket at tho road side
"Massa Luke, you wa'n't hurt, wuz ye?"
" No, Blackhawk, where have vou been?"
"In do brush, massa. I seo all I seo
ebery ting, but nobody seo me. I bo wid
you, massa, and you know it not"
"I believe you are bewitched," said
Luke. " Whatdo you mean by this strango
"Somo day I tells massa, but not now.
I's gwine," and ho turned about and dis
appeared into the bushes.
" There is somo mystery about this black
fellow," said Luke. "I wish I could
Lato that evening they overtook tho main
body. The little army was encamped on tbo
banks of a creek, and rumors of an attack on
the rear had como to them. Luke and his
companions were supposed to liavo been
killed or captured, and Captain Smart was
overjoyed to seo them.
"I'm glad you're back, Luke," said tho
Captain, taking the recruit aside. "1'vo
got somethin' good for you."
"What?" Luke asked, in amazement
"Ye notice that we've been havin' re
cruits comin' in ever smco wo started."
Luke had noticed that their numbers
were hourly increasing. Patriotic farmers
and their sons, apprized of tho approach of
tho army, hastened to join it and swell their
numbers. They came bringing thoir own
guns and ammunition, and such arms, at
close range, wore not to bo despised.
"We've got a full company unorganized,
an' they want a leader. They're ready to
sign a muster roll and go in. I've made up
my mind to havo you their Captain."
This was an honor of which Luko had not
yet dreamed. Ho thought the recruits
might prefer to choose a Captain from their
own numbers. But Captain Smart assured
him that such would not bo the case. They
were without any organization and strangers
to each other.
"Como with me, we'll get 'em in line,
tako their names, and sco 'f I don't pull
Tho unorganized men were got together
and Captain Smart made them a short
speech, and then called upon Mr. Mason,
whom ho represented as one of their num
ber, to deliver another; after which their
names were placed on an extempore muster
roll and all sworn in.
"It's your duty next to elPct officers," said
Captain Smart "Choose first a Captain,
and select the most competent man in your
company. It's not for me to suggest, but
Mr. Luke Mason is of tho timber out of
which good Captains are made. John Karns,
Si Smith, Phil Daniels and lots of others
among you would make excellent officers."
The result was the election of Luko Mason
for Captain, Si Smith, First, and Phil Dan
iels, Second Lieutenant
"I told yo I won Id fix yo all right," said
Captain Smart, after it was over.
" But I havo no commission yet"
"Neither havo I," answered Captain
Smart "You are as much an officer as any
There was soon to bo a regimental organ
ization, at which only tbo regimental offi
cers were to vote, and Luke was madoto
understand that Captain Smart expected a
favor in return, for tho Captain was a candi
date for the Colonelcy.
Tho newly-elected Captain set about com
pleting the organization of his company. Ho
himself attended to drilling them, using all
the military knowledge ho possessed, which
was very little.
In military knowledgo tho dull never suo
ceed. Somo men served three years in the
army who never learned to keep step, while
the manual of arms was a continual Chinese
puzzle. At the ond of the first hour's drill,
which was by moonlight, Luke's patience
was almost worn threadbare. That night
their bed was tho earth, and their covering
tho trees, and beyond the confusion of
changing guards tho night passed quietly;
but they wcro all recruits, and at each time
tho guard was relieved sufficient noise was
mado to rouse the entire camp.
Next morning, by liberal foraging, they
procured a sufficient srpplyof provisions.
Luke's company was sent in tho advanco
when the march began, and ho selected a
sergeant with a dozen men to go ahead, giv
ing him particular instructions to recon
noiter well and report the first sign of an
enemy that was seen.
Thoy had not gone a mile before he
heard a shot, followed by two more in quick
succession. He hurried forward with all
possible speed, and when he had reached
the top of the hill he came in full view of a
large, elegant farm-house, in front of which
waved a Confederate flag.
His advance guard stood huddled to
gether about a hundred paces from the
gate, at which was a beautiful young girl of
eighteen, clad in spotless white, waving a
revolver in the air.
"What's the matter!" Captain Mason
"That ar secesh gal's been ashootin' at
us, an' wo 'uns war a talkin' o' shootin'
back," tho sergeant answered.
"Have you seen any men around?"
"Then don't fire. We arc not making war
"No, but that secesh flag's got ter come
"So it shall, I will ask the young lady to
"She won't do 't I know that ar' gal'n
she's meaner than pizen."
"That is the reason you failed to compro
mise matters with her," said Luke, and
ordering his men to remain where they
were, he went toward the house.
"Whatdo you want here!" the pretty
girl demanded, her bright blue eyes flash
ing fire. There was something about her
heroic and grand to Luke, even though she
was an enemy to his country. He felt
strangely moved in her presence, and had
he not known that his heart was true to
Lillie, he would have half believed that he
had fallen in love with the pretty rebel at
He answered: "Nothing."
"Then go on," she cried.
"I have come to give you somo advice."
I TO BE CONTINUED.!
Keep It Warm.
Dudo (entering Delmonico's, to waiter
tho dude carries a heavy stick with an
enormous horse's head) Hat, waiter!
Waiter Yes, sir.
Dude Coat, waiter I
Waiter Yes, sir.
Dude Cane, waiter!
Waiter Yes, sir. Have it blanketed
Or. Talmage Discourses on Original
Sin in Man.
Natural Toulness of the World No Good
Apologies For 8ln There Is No Pardon
Without Repentance Christ Beady
to Cleanse AIL ,
In a late sermon at Brooklyn Rev. T.
De Witt Taltuage took for his text: "If I
Wash mysolf with snow water and should
I cleanse my hands in alkali, yet shalt
thou plunge me in the ditch, and mine
own clothes shall abhor me." Job ix.
30-3L The preacher said:
Albert Barnes honored be his name on
earth and in Heaven went straight back
to the original writing of my text, and
translated it as I have now quoted it, giv
ing substantial reasons for so doing. AN
though we know better, the ancients bad
an idea that in snow water there was a
special power to cleanse and that a gar
ment washed and rinsed in it would be as
clean as clean could be; but If the plain
snow water failed to do its work, then
they would take lye or alkali and mix it
with oi, and under that preparation they
felt that the last Impurity would certain
ly be gone. Job, in my text, in most
forceful figures sets forth the idea that all
his attempts to make himself pure before
God were a dead failure, and that, unless
we are ahluted by something better than
earthly liquids and chemical preparations,
we are loathsome and in the ditch." "If I
wash myself with snowwater, and should 1
cleanse my hands in alkali, yet shalt thou
plunge mo in the ditch, and mine own
clothes shall abhor me."
You are now sitting for yonr picture. I
turn the camera nbscura of God's word
full upon you, and I pray that the sun
shine falling through the skylight may
enable me to take ycu just as you are.
Shall it be a flattering picture or shall it
beatruoono? You say: "Let It be a true
one." The first profile that was ever
taken was taken. 339 years before Christ,
of Antigonus. He had a blind eye, and
he compelled the artist to take his profile
so as to hide the defect in his vision. But
since that invention, 539 years before
Christ, there has been a great many pro
files. Shall I to-day give you a one-sided
viow of yourselves, a profile, or shall it
be a full length portrait, showing you just
what yon are? If God will help me by
His almighty grace, I shall give you that
last kind of a picture.
When I first entered the ministry I used
to write my sermons all out and read them,
and run my hand along th line lest I
should lose my place. I have hundreds
of those manuscripts. Shall I ever preach
them? Never; for in those days I was
somewhat overmastered with the idea I
heard talked all around about of the dig
nity of human nature, and I adopted the
idea, and I evolved it, and I illustrated it
and I argued it; but coming on in life,
snd having soon more of the world, and
studied better my Bible, I find that that
early teaching was faulty, and that there
is no dignity in human nature until it is
reconstructed by the grace of Gad. Talk
about vessels going to pieces on the Sker
ries, off Ireland! There never was such a
shipwreck as in the Gihon and the Hidde
kel, rivers of Eden, where our first par
ents foundered. Talk of a steamer Koing
down with five hundred passengers on
board! What is that to the shipwreck of
fourteen hundred million souls? We are
by nature a mass of uncleanness and
putrefaction, from which it takes all the
omnipotence and Infinitude of God's grace
to extricate us. "If I wash myself with
stiow water, and should I cleanse my
hands in alkili, yet shalt thou plunge m
in the ditch, aud my own clothos shall
I remark, in the first place, that some
people try to cleanse their soul of sin in
the snow water of line apologies. Hero is
one man w ho says: "I am a sinner; I con
fess that; but I inherited this. My father
was a sinner, my grandfather, my great-great-grandfather,
and all the way back
to Adam, and I couldn't help myself."
My brother, have you not, every day in
your life, added something to the original
estate of sin that was bequeathed to you?
Are you not brave enough to confess that
you have sometimes surrendered to sin
which you ought to have conquered? I
ask you whether It is fair play to put upon
our ancestry thingf for which we our
selves are personally responsible? If your
nature was askew when you got it, have
you not sometimes given it an additional
twist? Will all the tombstones of those
who have preceded us make a barricade
high enough for eternal defenses? Iknow
a devout man who had blasphemous par
entage. I know au honest man whose
father was a thief. I know a pure man
whose mother was a waif of the street
The hereditary tide may be very strong,
but there is such a thing as stemming it.
The fact that I have a corrupt nature is
no reason why I should yield to it The
deep stains of our soul can never bf
washed out by the snow water of such in
Still further, says some one: "If Ihave
gone into sin, it has been through -my
companions, my comrades and associates;
they mined me. They taught me to drink.
They took me to the gambling hell. They
plunged me into the house of sin. They
ruined my soul." I do not believe it
God gave to no one the power to destroy
you or me. If a man is destroyed he is
self destroyed, and that Is always so.
Why did you not break away from them?
If they had tried to steal your purse you
would have knocked them down; if they
bad tried to purloin your gold wa;ch you
would have riddled them with shot; but
when they tried to steal your immortal
soul you placidly submitted to it Tuose
bad fellows have a cup of fiie to drink;
do not pjur your cup into it In this mat
ter of the soul, eie-y man for himself.
That thoe persons ure not fully responsi
ble for your sin, 1 prove by the fact that
yea stilt consort wiib them. You can not
get off by blnm ng ibem. Though you
gather up all thee apologies; though
tnere were a great flood of them; though
they should come down with the force of
the melting snows from Lebanon, they
could not wash out ono stain of your im
Still further, some persons apologiz: for
their sins by saying: "We are a great
deal better than some people. You see
people all around about us that are a
great deal worse than we are." You
tand np columnar in your integrity, aud
look down upon those who nre prostrate
in their habits and crimes. What of that
my brother? If I failed through reckless
ness and wicked imprudence tor J10.0JO, is
the matter alleviated at all by the fact
that somebody else has failed for $100,000,
and somebody ehe for $200,000? O. no. if
I have the neuralgia, shall I refuse med
ical attendance because my neighbor has
virulent typhoid fever? The fact that his
disease is worse than mine does that
cure mine? If L through my foolhardi
ness, leap off into ruin, dees it break the
fall to know that others leap off a higher
cliff into deeper darkness? When the
Hudson rail train went through the bridge
at Spuyten Duyvil, did it alleviate the
matter at all that instead of two or three
people being hurt there were seventy-five
mangled and crushed? B-cause others
are depraved, is that any excuse for my
depravity? Am I better than they? Per
haps they had worse temptations than I
have had. Perhaps their surroundings
in life were more overpowering. Per
haps, O man, if you had been under tho
same stress of temptation, instead of be
ing here to-day you would have been
looking through the birs of a penitentiary.
Perhaps, O woman, if you had been under
the same power of temptation, instead of
sitting here to-day yoa. would be tramp
ing the street, the laughing stock of men
and the grief of the angels of God, dun
geoned, body, mind and soul, in the-blackness
Ah, do not let as solace ourselves with
the thought that other people are worse
than we. Perhaps In the future when our
fortunes may change, unless God prevents
it, we may be worse than they are. Many
a man after thirty years, after forty
years, after fifty years, after sixty years,
has gone to pieces on the sand bars. O,
instead of wasting our time in hyper
criticisms about others, let us ask our
selves the questions: Where do we stand?
What are our sins? What are our deficits?
What are our perils? What are our hopes?
Let each one say to himself "Where will
I be? Shall I range in summery fields, or
grind In the mills of a great night? Where?
Some winter morningyou go out and see
a snow bank in graceful drifts, as though
by some heavenly compass it had been
curved; and as the sun glints it the luster
is almost insufferable, and it seems as if
God had wrapped the earth in a shroud
with white plaits woven in looms celestial.
And you say: "Was thereever any thing
so pure as the snow, so beautiful as the
snow?" But you brought a pail of that
snow and put it upon tlie stove and melted
it; and you found that there was a sedi
ment at the bottom, and every drop of
that snow water was riled; and you found
that the snow bank had gathered np the
impurity of the field, and that after all it
was not fit to wash in. And so I say it
will bo If you try to gather up these con
trasts and comparisons with others, and
with tbo apologies attempt to wash out
the sins of your heart and life. It will be
an unsuccessful ablation. Such snow
water will never wash away a single
stain of an immortal soul
But I hear some one say: 'I will try
something better than that I will try the
force of Rood resolution. That will be
more pungent, more caustic, more extir
pating, more cleausing. The snow water
has failed and now I will try the alkali of
the good strong resolution." My dear
brother, have you any Idea that a resolu
tion about the future will liquidate the
past? Suppose I owed you $3,000 and 1
should come to you to-morrow and say:
"Sir, I will never run in debt to you again;
If I should live thirty years I will never
ran in debt to you again;" will you turn
to me and say: "If you will not run in
debt in the future I will give vou the
$5,000." "Will you do that? No! Nor will
God. We have been running up a long
score of indebtedness with God. If for
the future we should abstain from sin
that would be no defrayment of past in
debtedness. Though you should live from
this time forth pure as an archangel be
fore the throne that would not re
deem the past God, in the Bible,
distinctly declares that He "will
require that which is past" past op
portunities, past neglects, past wicked
words, past impure imaginations, past ev
ery thing. The past is a great cemetery,
and every day is buried in it And here
Is a long row of 305 days. They are the
dead days of 188. Here is a long row of
PCS more graves, and they are the dead
days of 1887. And here is a long row of
365 more graves, and they are the dead
days of 18S8. It is a vast cemetery ot the
past But God will rouse them all up with
resurrectionary blast and as tho prisoner
stands face to face with juror and judge,
so yoa and I will have to como up and
look upon those departed days face to
face, exulting in their smile or cowering
in their frown.
"Murder will out" is a proverb that
stops too short Every sin, however small,
as well as great, will out In hard times
in England, years ago, it is authentically
stated that a manufacturer was on the
way with a bag of money to pay off bts
hands. A man Infuriated with hunger
met him on the road and took a rail with
a nail in it frt m a paling fence and struck
him down, and the nail entering the skull
instantly nlew him. Thirty years after
that the murderer went back to that place
He passed into the grave yard where th
sexton was digging a grave and while he
stood there the spad9 of the sexton turned
up a skull, and, lo! the murdeier saw a
nail protruding from the back part of the
skull; it seemtd with hollow eyes to glare
on the muiderer, and he, first petrified
with horror, stood in silence but soon cried
out "Guilty! guilty! O God!" The
mystery of the crime was soon over. The
man was tried and executed. My friends,
all the unpardonedsinsof our lives though
we may think they are buried out of
sight and gone into a mere skeleton of
memory, will turn up In the cemetery of
the past and grower upon as with their
misdoings. I say all of our unpardoned
s.ns. O, have you done the preposterous
thing of supposing that good resolutions
for the future will wipe out the past?
Good resolutions, though they may be
pungent and caustic ns alkali, have no
power to neutralize a sin, have no power
to wash away a transgression. It wants
something more than earthly chemistry
to do this. Yea. yea, though ''I wash my
self with snow water, and should 1 cleanse
my bands in alkali, yet shalt tboa plunge
me In the ditch, and mine own clothes
shall abher me."
You see from the last part of this text
that Job's idea of sin was very different
from i hat ot Eugene Sue, or George Sand,
or M. J. Michelet, or any of the huudreds
of writers who have done up iniquity in
mezzotint and garlanded the wine cup
with eglantine and rosemary, and made
the pnth of tho libertine end in bowers of
ease instead of on the hot flagging of
eternal torture. You see that Job thinks
that sin is not a flowery parterre; that it
is not a tableland of fine prospects; that
it is not music, du'eimer, violoncello,
Castanet and Pauccan pipes, all making
music together. No. He says it is a
ditch, long, deep, loathsome, stenebful
and we are all plunged into it, and there
we wallow and sink and struggle, not
able to get out. Our robes ot propriety
aud robes of worldly profession are sat
urated in the slime and abomination, and
our soul, covered with transgression,
hates its covering and the covering hates
the soul until we are plunged into the
ditch and cur own clothes abhor us.
I know that somo modern religionists
caricature sorrow for sin, and they make
out an oasier path than the "Pilgrim's
Progress" that John Bunyan dreamed of.
The road they travel does not stop where
John's did. at the city of Destruction, but
at thd gate of the university; and I am
very certain that it will not come out
where Joliifs did, under the shining ram
parts of the celestial city. No repentance,
no pardon. If vou do not ,my brother,
feel that you are down in the ditch, what
do you want of Christ to lift you out? If
you have no appreciation of the fact that
you are astray, what do you want of Him
who comes to seek and save that which
was lost? Yonder is the City of Paris, the
swiftest of the Inmans, coming across the
Atlantic 'the wind is abaft so that she
has not only her engines at work, but all
sails up. I am on board the Umbria of
the Cunard Una The boat davits are
swung around. The loat is lowered. I
get into it with a red flag and cross over
to where the City of Paris is coming, and
I wave the flag. The Captain looks off
from the bridge and says: "What
do you want?" I reply: "I come
to take some of your passengers
across to the other vessel. I think they
will be safer and happier there." Tho cap
tain would look down with indignation
and say: ' Get out or the way, or I will
run you down." And then I would back
oars, amidst the jeering of two or three
hundred people looking over the tatf rail.
But the Umbria and the City of Paris
meet under ditferent circumstances after
awhile. The City of Paris is coming out
of a cyclone; the lifeboats are smashed;
the bulwarks gone; the vessel rapidly go
ing down. The boatswain gives his lfeai
whistle of despairing command. The
passengers run np and down the deck,
and some pray, and all make a great out
cry. The captain says: "You have about
fifteen minutes now to prepare for the
next world." "No hopel" sounds from
stem to stern and from the ratlines down
to the cabla. I see the distress. I am let
down by the side ot the Umbria. I push
off as fast as I can toward the sinking
City of Paris. Before I come up the people
are leaping into the water in their anxiety
to get to the boat and when I have swung
up under tbo side of the City of Paris, the
frenzied passengers rush through the gang
way until the officers, with axe and club
and pistols, try to keep back the crowd,
each wanting his turn to come next There
is I at ono life boat aud they all. want to
get into it, and the cry is: "Me next! me
next!" You see the application before I
make it As long as a man going on in
his sins feels that all Is well, .that he it
coming cat at a beautiful port, and has
all sail set he wants no Christ, he wants no
help, he wants no rescue;, but if under the'
flash of God's convicting spirit he shall
see that by reason of sin he is dismasted
and waterlogged, and going down into
the trough of the sea where he can not
live, how soon he puts the sea glass to his
eye and sweeps the hor.zon, and at the
first sign of help cries out:. 'Twant to be
saved. I want to be saved now. L want
to be saved forever." No sense of danger,
no application for rescue.
O, that God's eternal spirit would flnsh
upon us a sense ot our sinfulness!. The
Bible tells the story in letters of fire, but
we get used to it. Wo Joke about sin. We
make merry over it What is sin? Is it a
trifling thingl Sin is a vampire that is
sucking out the life blood of your im
mortal nature. Sin? It is a Bastile that
no earthly key ever unlocked. Sin? It is
expatriation from God and Heaven. SinI
It is grand larceny against the Almighty,
for the Bible asks the question i "Will a
man rob God?" answering it in the affirm
ative. This gospel is a writ of replevin to
recover property unlawfully detained
In the Shetland islands there is a man
with leprosy. The hollow of the foot has
swollen until it is flat on the ground. The
joints begin to fall away. The ankle
thickens until it looks like the foot ot a
wild beast A stare unnatural comes to
the eya The noitril is constricted. The
voice drops to an almost Inaudable hoarse
ness. Tubercles blotch the whole body,
and from them there comes an exudation
that is unbearable to the beholder. That
is leprosy, and we have nil got it unless
cleansed by the grace of God. See Levi
ticus. Sse Second Kings. See Mark. Sae
Luke. See fifty Bible allusions and con
firmations. The Bible is not complimentary in It
language. It does not speak minclngly
about our sins. It does not talk apologet
ically. There is no vermilion in its style.
It does not cover up our trangressions
with blooming metaphor. It does not
sing about them in weak falsetto; but it
thunders out: 'The imagination of man's
heart is evil from his youth." "Every
one has cone bnett He has altogether
become filtbv. He 1 abominable and
filthy, and 'drlnketh in iniquity like
water." And then the Lord Jesus Christ
flings down at our feet this humiliating
catalogue: "Out of the heart of met? pro
ceed evil thoughts, adulteries, fornication,
murders, thefts, blasphemy." There is a
text for your rationalists to preach from.
O, the dignity of human nature! There is
an element of your science of man that
the anthropologist never has had the
courage yet to touch, and the Bible, in all
the ins and outs of tho mot forceful style,
sets forth oar natural pollution, and rep
resents iniquity as a frightful thing, as an
exhausting thing, as a loathsome thing.
It is not a mere befouling cf the hands;
it is going down, head and ears under. In
a di'ch, until our clothes abhor us.
My brethren, shall we stay down where
sin thrusts us? I shall not if you do. We
can not afford to. I have to-day to tell
you that there is something more pungent
than alkali, and that it is the blood of Jesus
Christ that cleanseth from all sin. Ay,
the river of salvation, bright, cryst aline
and Heaven born, rushes through this
audience with billowey tide strong enough
to wash your sins completely and forever
away. O. Jesus, let the dam that holds it
back now break and the floods of salva
tion roll over us.
Let the water and the Wood.
From thy side a healing flood.
Be of sin the double cure.
Save from wrath and make me pure.
Let us get down on both knees and
bathe in that flood of mercy. Ay, strike
out with both hands and try to swim to
the other shore of this river of God's
graca To you is the word of this salva
tion sent Take this largest of the divine
bounty. Though yon have grown down
in the deepest ditch of libidinons desire
and corrupt behavior, though yoa have
sworn alLblasphemies until there is not
one sinful word for you to speak, though
you have been submerged by the trans
gressions of a lifetime, though yon are
o far down in your sin that no earthly
help can touch your case the Lord Jesus
Christ bends over you to-day and offers
you His right hand proposing to lift you
up. first making you whiter than snow,
and then raising yoa to glories that never
d'e. "Billy," said a Christian bootblack
to another, "when we come up to Heaven
it won't make any difference that we've
been bootblacks beie, for we shall get in,
not somehow or other, but, Billy, we shall
get straight through the zat." O, If you
onlyknew how full mid free and tender
is the offT of Christ thN day yoa would
all take Him without one single exception;
and if all the doors of this house were
locked save one and you were compelled
to makeegtess by only one door aud I
stood there and questioned you and the
gosj.el of Christ had made the right im
pression upon ycur heart to-day you
would answer me as yoa went out, one
and all: "Jesus is mine and I am His!"
O, that this might be the hour when yoa
would receive him! It is not a gos-
pl merely I or looipaas ana va
grants and buccaneers; it is for
tfce highly polished and the
educated and the refined as welt. "Ex
cept a man be torn ncaln he can not see
the kingdom ot God." Whatever may be
your associations, and whatever your
worldly refinements I must tell you, as be
fore God I expect to answer in the last
day, that if you are not changed by the
grace of God you are still down in the
ditch of sorrow, the ditch of condemna
tion; a ditch that empties into a deeper
ditch, the ditch of the lost But blessed
be God fortbe lifting, cleansing, lustrating
power of His gospel.
The voice of free grace cries. Escape to the
For all that believe, Christ has opened a fount
ain. Hallelujjh! to the lamb that has brought us our
We'll praise Him again when we pass over
Alaska's Great Area.
"When I sat at my desk in Sitka,'
said Governor Swineford. "I was fur
ther from Attu island, the westernmost
point in Alaska, than I was from Port
land, Me. This may serve to give
some idea of the prodigious distances
of Alaska. But I can furnish a more
striking one. If the capital of the
United States was located in the center
of the United States that is to say,
at a point equidistant from Quaddy
hend. Me., and Attu isdand, Alaska
it would be in tho Pacific ocean some
six hundred miles north by west of j
San Francisco." Detroit Free Press. '
USEFUL AND SUGGESTIVE.
A salve of equal parts of tar, tal
low and salt will euro the worst case
We find that if we compel our
selves to put things away the moment
we get done using them, tho better we
arc off. Western Rural.
Don't neglect to wash tho teeth on
rising and retiring, even if they are un
touched during the day. It does pay;
well-kopt, natural teeth beat any arti
Tho roso can be grown, indoors in
pots, and is used for a greater number
of purposes than any other flower. Tho
young plants should not be sot out too
early. Trim off the surplus branches
of tho old bushes and cut back some of
Baked Eggs. Drop ono egg at a
time on to a buttered plate, being care
ful not to break tho yelk, till tho plato
is full. Sprinkle a little salt and pep
per on each, with a bit of butter. Bako
in a hot oven. till the whites are "set"
Ordinary drinking, water,- if taken
in largo quantities, acts as a solvent
and- diu.'etic,. and also increasos the
perspiration if tho temperature of tho
air bo high. Another effect of large
draughts of water is to make the pulse
slower, and to diminish slightly tho
normal temperature of tho body.
If furniture is very dirty, wash oft
with a flannel cloth dipped, in equal
parts of vinegar and water; dry instant
ly and thoroughly, and at onco rub
with flannel which has been dipped in
linseed-oil and carefully wrung out;,
finish with dry flannel, and. rub hard
and long Elbow-grease counts for a.
good deul in keeping furniture bright.
Savory Pie- Tako somo slices of
beef cut very thin, a few thicker pieces
out of a loin of pork- Line the slices
of beef with potatoes, chopped onions
and tine herbs; roll them up and tie
with thread. Pack the meat into-the
dish with pursley between each layer.
Pour a littlo gravy avejf tho whole, sea
son liberally and bake, under a light
A lovely flower stand can be mado
of any work basket stand by placing a
tin pan inside the basket and filling it
with wet and cut flowers and vines, or
with wet earth and growing vines and
blossoming plants. The pan should be
mado to fit tho basket as noarly as pos
sible, and care should be taken to con
seal tho edge of the pan by leaves,
vines or somo othor device. Such a
stand can bo made of three broomsticks,
painted, ebocized or bronzed, put to
gether in a tripod, fastened with rib
bons, and a basket fitted on of any shape
STYLE IN CHICAGO.
Dress Novelties Recently See a by an Kn
terprUIng Society Reporter.
Thoy are wearing hat crowns much
iowor just now.
Striped tennis gowns aro frequently
worn with striped Cowes caps to match
them. So are beach gowns.
Tho yoke waists aro now about as
much worn by full-grown women as
they havo been by children Tor tho last
Tho newest fabric for littlo girls'
clothing is plaided mohair. It is light
in texture and its color combinations
aro generally artistic.
Girdles of silver or bronze about an
inch in width looped around tho waist
.ind with one end hanging down to tho
ankles are occasionally worn.
An evening costume recently seen at
a Paris reception was of shot velvet,
apparently of viex rose and green, tho
combination making a dull heliotrope.
A combination much worn this sea
son is that of black and yellow. Black
straw hats tako yellow ribbons and
flowers, and yellow straws havo black
ribbons and black feathers.
Thin materials for hot-weather wear
aro fresh and charming, but very ex
pensive. For the most part they are
open-work tissues from India and cost
quite as much as satin or velvet
There is an extensive assortment of
cotton dress fabrics for summer wear,
including zephyrs, ginghams, em
broidered French organdy muslin,
Chambery batistes,, lawns and crepon3.
Tho most popular wrap just at pres
ent is ono that partakos of tho nature
3f both tho jacket and the capo. It is a
tight-fitting bodice without sleeves,
over which a loose capo reaches to tha
Tho corsages of thoso gowns which
aro mado of tho costliest semi-dia-phaneous
and transparent tissues have
crossed surplices on the bosoms in em
pire style, belted or pointed waists, and
airy scarfs that cross and tie in easy
There are any number of fancy wraps
for this season's wear. There aro cor
sage bodice with deep lace wings.
Abbo Galant capes, empire mantles,
Louis XV. coats, pelerines and pelisses
of lace, and long lace Connomara
cloaks, and over so many more.
Fashion-makers say that the next
freak in veils will be the large, long,
blond lace ones in use about forty
years ago. They were tied around the
high crown of tho Dunstable bonnet
and thrown back, falling mantle-like
ovor the shoulder to a point below the
waistline. Chicago News.
A, Little Friendly Advice.
Thero are several "don'ts" which
should be observed whenever two or
more women are gathered together,
but which, alas! are frequently disre
garded. For instance, don't say to a
friend: "How stout you aro growing."
No lady likes to be told that she is
growing or has grown stout If it boa
fact, she is doubtless quite well aware
of it, and anxious to koep others from
discovering it Don't say: "How thin
you are," either, for both women and
men loathe to be told that they are
either stout or thin. Unless you can
say: "How well you are looking," it is
better to make no remark on the person
al appearance of your friend. Don't tell a
friend who has on a particularly becom
ing gown or bonnet that sho looks ten
years younger in that than in any thing
you havo ever seen her wear. Don't
tell her, either, that it is the most be
coming thing you havo over seen her
wear. That is an impoachmont of her
taste heretofore, though you probaHy
have no such thought Dress.