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"And I will gie you ft bit o' ftd*ice,
without charge this time, laird:
iinna call a man a 'ne'er-do-weel' unless
you can prove the count. The
word may not be actionable, but
juries are kittle cattle, and border
juries dinna like ill names. They
will pass by a few hard knocks
"Don't you trouble yourself, Langton.
I will just call my enemies what
I like to call them. I can pay for all
the bad words I choose to say."
"Dootless, laird;and you'll pay bad
words easier, than you pay bad blows.
Take your guinea's worth of them if
you want to. I'll go and see what I
can find out against the handsome
lad?for he is handsome, and that is
"You need not say so in my pres?nce."
"I'll say the truth in any man's
t "If nobody pays you to lie."
"Just sae, laird. I say the truth
to please mysel'. I lie to please my
clients, and they pay mc for it. At
the lang end the great Judge willna
mak much difference between lawyer
and client, and in the meantime I
hae the siller." He laughed softly to
himself, and began to pack a valise.
"Now, laird, for the expenses. This
is a very uncertain job; I'll give no
credit for expenses."
So the laird drew out his long silk
pnrse and counted out twenty pounds;
and very black and ugly he was about
A week afterward Mrs. Brathous
and Katherine were together in the
large parlor opening into the rosegarden.
Katherine was dressed for her
pony, and she stood by her mother's
aide, with her soft riding-hat in her
hand. Mrs. Brathous was patching
bits of many-colored satins together,
and the medley of rich tints lay on her
lap and on the carpet at her feet.
They were talking about Mowbray,
and of the earliest date at which a letter
from New York might be expected.
Their low, pleasant laughter fell upon
the laird's ears as he opened the
door. Then he pursed up his lips
and tried to look at once mysteriously
angry and mysteriously important.
"Katherine," he said, "you need
not leave the room when I enter it.
That is a very rude habit of yours,
and must be amended. And to-day
you cannot go to the manse. There
is far too much nonsense between you
and Jessy Telfair. Besides, I have
the most important affair io bring to
/our notice?most important."
"You had better talk it over with
me first, Alexander," said Mrs. Brathous.
"Katherine's pouy is waiting."
"Is Katherine'a pony to be put before
my wish? No, ma'am! Katherine,
I have found out things about
Mr. Mowbray that must prevent the
ybuug man ever speaking to you
Katheriue glanced at her mother,
"who answered for her.
"Tut, Alexander! You are forever
finding out and suspecting. There is
nothing wrong about Richard Mowbray."
"He pushed himself into a gentleman's
house under false colors. He
gave me to understand that he was
Squire Mowbray. He is not."
"He did not push himself iuto your
house. You urged him to corno in.
He is Squire Mowbray."
"He is not."
"How do you know he is not?"
"Simon Langton bas been to Mowbray.
He got there just after the funeral
of the lawyer who telegraphed for
Mowbray. The so-called squire had
not even the decency to wait for his
friend's death. He heard what Mr.
Howett had to say, and left that verj
night for America. "What do yon
think of that, ma'am?"
"I think he had good reasons fo:
all he did."
' 4To be sure he did. Langton rubbeil
the innkeeper's memory with a sover
eigu, and the man remembered thai
au American had been there in the
spring?he was sure he was an Aineri
can?but whoever ho was, ho went tc
the dead squire's grave more thai
once, and gave Dabby Thorn, th<
housekeeper, a matter of five pounds
for leave to go through the house
What do you think of that, ma'*m?'
"It was all right and natura
"Natural! I should say so. It ii
Laugtou's belief that he was the rea
heir. He found au old womau knit
ting in the sunshine, who told him sh<
recc llected the dead squire bringing
home a very handsome lad, wliooallei
him 'father,' before ever this Bichari
Mowbray was born. Laugtou has gon<
to Edinburgh, to investigate the lif<
cf Squire P?eginald Mowbray. I liavi
sent him. I remember that when wi
were youths at college Mowbray ha<
a bad name about women. What dit
that riug mean he seat the minister
It is a black business. I have ni
doubt this young Mowbray kuew al
about it, but he thought America wa
too far off to give him trouble."
"Do not, for heaven's sake, Alexan
der, make yourself a bigger fool thai
nature has already made you!" sail
Mrs. Brathous, rising and puttin]
nside her satin circle'. "Why shouli
you rake among the ashes of the deai
for presumed wrongs? Paying gooi
money to that scoundrel Laugtou t
discover secrets that never were secret
"Mrs. Brathous "
"Nonsense! Why did you pay goo
money for such contemptible inquiries
If you had come with your question
to me or to Katherine or to the minis
ter or to Jessy, we, any of us, coul
have told yon what you have been dip
ging like a very ghoul to find oiil
Black business iudeed! Katheriue
iny dear, go and t*ke your ride. Wb
should you be disappointed?"
- J&ft!uerine cannot co.
v? * * . w." i.vi ? t
OWER OF 1
(JALA WATER. I
0 f STORY# &
LI A E. BARPw"?
:olHT BoKNZfi'l 80K9V
"Katherine, do as I tell you."
Then as the door closed she laid her
hand upon her husband's arm, and
said with a still pasBion that he always
"Brathous, sit down and be qniet or
t -n.;n loom Troiif VinnsA tliir Vimir
Then yon will have the whole country
side talking of yon and Simon Langton.
Before going to America Mr.
Mowbray came here; he saw Iiatherine
and told her the whole train of circumstances
which made it proper for
him to take the journey. He told them
to Doctor Telfair also. Catherine and
I, Doctor Telfair and Jessy have talked
them over very often., The business
is family business and there is nothing
wrong in it."
"And I! And I left ont in the dark?
It is shameful! Shameful! Shameful!
I will not endure it?"
"Can you avoid enduring it?"
"Why was I not told? Why was I
put to such expense for the sake of
your daughter? I Bhall take every
penny out of her estate."
"I have no doubt you will?if you
are permitted. And I did not tell you
because the end of the journey is yet
uncertain; aud foil know that you cannot
keep anything private. You would
have gone from house to house gabbling
of affairs that did not concern
you, and making Gala Water ring with
Katherine's name. As for expenses,
your own spiteful curiosity led you
into them, aud I shall take good care
that Katherine's estate does not pay a
penny of them."
"It is very cruel of you, Helen?to
be colleaguing with others?against
me. I am a badly used man."
Then he began to whimper and the
storm was over.
A dead silence followed. Mrs. Brathous
took up her satin pieces again, but
in a weary, depi'essed fashion, and toe
laird sat snLking and sighing in his
big chair by the open window. He
had the curiosity of a peasant and the
sensitive pride of a small conceited
nature. He wanted his wife to tell
him the secret and she sat silently
matching bits of satin. She was untouched
by his air of injury, and not
to be led into conversation by any irrelevant
remark. At last he was fully
conquered and ready to capitulate.
Silence was the one thing he could not
"Helen," he said, "you know it is
your duty to tell your Own husband
"I. know my duty, Alexander- duties
vary with husbands."
"What is the secret, my dear? I
ought to know it. Now, ought I
"When I think it is the rijrht time
to toll you, I 'will speak."
"I declare, Helen, I will not name
to anyone what you tell me. I only
want to take care of Kntherine."
"Katherine can take good care of
herself, with her mother to guide
her?not to speak of the minister."
"Helen, I am the laird. It is not
right to put the minister before me
on my own estate. Come, Helen! I
will talk witb you only. I will do
what you tell me?yes, I will. You
ought to tell me. It is your duty."
"Ali?T nm iinK in fclin ninml nf r?Tii.v
So the plea was continued, tlie
whiles Mrs. Brathous was coming to a
decision. It was evident Langton
had found out part of the truth, and
might learn it all?perhaps also learn
other things which it would do no
good to bring up?dead faults long
ago buried aud forgotten. She disliked
Langtou. She did not wish to
give him any further insight into the
. affairs of a family likely to be allied
with her own; and she judged that the
( minister's influence would be sufficient
to make her husband prudent until
the time came to speak. So she finally
"When did Langton go to Edin
I "If you will telegraph hira to re
turn at once, and make him keep ab;
solutely quiet about Katherine ami
s Mr. Mowbray, I will tell you all."
The pledge was readily given and
) the promise fully performed. The
i laird had a delightful afternoon disi
cussing the circumstances with his
5 wife. He even felt a sort of tempor.
arv kindness for the young man so
' suddenly faced with such a calamity.
i Ti ? T>?*xi i.i
I X'or .Dl tiiLiuus cuuiu icauj uauuty tonceive
of a greater misfortune coming
3 to any one than to be in a moment de1
posed from the elder to a second son,
- and thus fall from a landowner to a
a plain, perhaps a poor gentleman.
I Yet in spite of his professed sym1
pathy he was comforted by the situa1
tion. Fortune had never dared to
5 play the laird of Levcns-kope such a
a trick, and for several hours he tossed
r* Knrt/1 Knfll of (nvhirtQ /I flic MrtAV
U LI IO UCtt\( uutu t*V 1V11UUW uuvi wajw MWV1 ,
e disinherited squire of Mowbray. He
1 talked with Mrs. *Brathous until lis
1 was tired, and tbeu the desire to talk
? with some one else was irresistible,
a He said be would just walk over nnJ
1 sea tbe minister about the new psalm
s books, aud bis wife answered:
"Keep to the psalm-books, Alexau
der. You know what you have prom
a ised me. And see that you go to Gala
1 siiiels aud seud tbe telegram to Lung
il He promised all things positively,
:1 and she bad not much doubt that hii
il confidence would be restricted to th?
o minister, who was very well able tc
s take care of what had been committee
to him. And she did think the with
lirawal of .Laugton from liis scrutiny
d of the late squire's youthful life was j
? tiling Mr. Richard Mowbray would bi
s grateful for. There might indeed bi
i- nothing to reveal, and again then
d might; few men would care to hav<
the days of their first entrance int<
>. life set iu the searchlight of publii
y So Brathone went to call upon Doc
j tor Telfair, aud after a slight iuquir
I about the uew psalm-books plunged a
once into the subject pressing upon
i "I know what took young Mowbray
to America, doctor, and I presume you
' do, too," he said, with an air of mysi
i "Well, then, we will not talk of the
matter, laird. It is not yet the time
to do so. When the young man comes
back I am ready to speak."
And the doctor's face was so final and
his voice so imperative that Brathous
felt himself retired beyond controversy.
But as he rode to Galashiels
to send his telegram, he tasted
in advance the triumph it would bring
"First," he mused, "Langton will
have to refund the money I gave him
for expenses, and he hates to give
money back. Second, I shall make
him feel his short-comings. I shall
say, 'Langton, I have fouud out with
-i ?-i 1
my offlJ (juuu oeuoe ?iiii jiunci yi putting
this and that together, the beginning
and the end of the matter.' He
will then look scornful, and I stall
continue: 'You were a bit too alow for
me, Langton. You need a seasoning
of my penetration, and so on, etc.' I
shall farther intimate that it was after
all a mare's nest?a whiff-whaff of
country say-so?etc., etc. And then
he is that suspicious he will be 3ure to
follow the scent at his own expense.
So if he finds anything out that my
Lady Helen has not told me, he will
come to me with his 'fiud,' and thus I
shall have the last word among all,
Helen, Katherine, the minister and
Jessy. I have a good mind to tell
Wintoun. I said I would not, but I do
believe it to be my duty?he is my own
nephew. Yes, I will go and see Jamie
in the morning, and just try and find
out if the lad knows a thing or two
that has not been told me. No one is
bound to keep a foolish promise?made
to a woman, too! God knows if a man
was bound by such promises he would
be forsworn from January tp December."
THE OLD PROPOSE.
"The romance we love is tbat wliicli we
write in our own hearts."
"xuo ?aea we live in iuuuiun u^au?.
In the morning the laird felt tbe
necessity for a further discussion of
the remarkable family incident to be
still more pressing; and Mrs. Brathous
was so provokingly indifferent that be
was sure be bad a justifiable excuse
for going to Wintoun House. He
dallied with bis conscience, however,
all the way there, assuring it that he
would not say a word of Mowbray's
affairs, unless be saw they were going
to interfere with his own, a proviso
which opened tbe door for any amount
Wintoun, who was a fine musician,
was at bis piano, and tbe laird could
bear him singing, as he approached
the bouse, singing loud and clear:
"Love in her sunny eyes does basking
"I used to sing that song myself,
once," the laird complacently re- !
fleeted. "Jamie has not a very commanding
voic8. I sing better, yet,
than he does."
But he did not tell Wintoun this.
He talked to him a little about border
"They are very romantic and stirring,
Jamie, and if one could have an
accompaniment of galloping horses to
them, they would be just perfect; but
I can tell you, Jamie, there is more |
romance in every-day life if you hap
pen to come its way."
"I have never happened on anything
but the most prosaic existence," answered
Jamie, "so 1 am glad to sing
'The Braes of Yarrow' or the 'March!
March! of Etterick and Tevio Men!'"
"Tut! Tut! That is tbe romance of
bygone days, not of the same material
nor tbe same color as this life, and so
nothing but a brigbtpatch on it. Now,
there has been a strange story right
under your eyes, lately, Jamie, and
you never read a line of it."
"A strange story under my eyes?"
"Yes; but it took tbe penetration of
a far-seeing man like myself to read
that fellow Mowbray."
Wintouu's bright face clouded, and
ho answered iu a tone that was almost
,!i" would rather you chose some
other subject for our conversation,
"I have something particular to tell
you about tho man."
"I would rather hear nothing at all
about liim. His life does not concern
[to de continued.]
Tat and the Peni.
In an Eastern county court the
judge was in a quandary the other
day. A coat was in dispule. The
parties were Irish, and the evidence
was direct and positive for both
claimants. After much -wraugling
Patrick Peters, oue of the parties, proposed
that he and his opponent, Timothy
Maguire, should aee whose name
? 11? ?? ? TlmAlliw o <? o v/?l i a
wus on mo hujuiuj w*wv% ,
in vain, ami the coat was handed to
Put, who immediately took his knife,
opened a corner of the collar of the
cost, and out dropped two 6inall peas.
"There, d'ye soe that now?" said lie. ;
"Yes; but what of that?" said Timothy.
"A dale it'as to do wid it! It is my
i name, to be sure?pea for Patrick,
t ami pea for Peters, be jabers!"
He got the coat after that.?Philadelphia
> Enoch Arden in Hindustan.
; A pretty little marital complication
recently happened at Benares. A mar1
ried gentleman named Xatlm bad deserted
his family for several months,
when some men personally acquainted
with the truaut saw him bathing in the
Ganges. They lost no time in con
veyiugthe news to his unhappy spouse,
who, in company with his mother, at
once hurried to the Bpot to reclaim the
, vagabond. It was in vain tnat ne i
i sought escape. Surrounded on all !
i sides, he had to succumb to the logic |
> of events witu as good grace as be i
1 could. A few days later, however, the
- genuine Natliu appeared 011 the scene,
r and fiercely denounced the other gen\
tleman as a rank impostor. But the
i wife insisted that she had got hold ol
1 the right man and refused to have auyi
thiug to do with his rival.?Bombay
a Advocate of India,
c In the cottonseed industry last year
not less than 4,000,000 tons of cotton
seeil were consumed, the total value j
y of the resultant products aggregating
t S120?000.C'00# .... _ .... .
< s >
FHB RE AL
New York City (Special).?One of T1
the handsomest shirt waists shown el
this season is here illustrated, in pink tr
pique, with bands of white embroidered ui
A HANDSOME SHIRT WAIST. CO
insertion, which is firmly stitched on h?
each edge aud then has the material m
cat away from underneath, with the w<
exception of that in oentre front. Five bl
Jengthwise bands are thus applied on fa
the fronts and three on the backs, the ly
pattern giving the correct lines for the
placing. The closing is made through
the centre front with small pearl buttons
and buttonholes worked through b;
the insertion or through the hem un- tl
clerneath. The back fits smoothly, 01
and comes well forward and meets the 01
gathered shoulder edges of the full to
fronts. ' je
Gathers adjust the fulness at the al
aeck, which is completed with a col- re
lar baud, over which a deep stock is er
worn that closes in centre back. The cr
3leeves ara in regulation shirt waist fr
tyle. gathered at the top and bottom, ai
where they are completed with straight m
link cuffs. Openings are finished with
overlaps at the back in the usual way.
Shirt waists of fine white lawn, tucked
all over and united with insertion in m
* ?5 04
this style, mage wonaenuuyusuauwvc 01
. summer waists, while both taffeta and al
wash eilks may be nsed to develop d<
handsome waists by the mode. The bl
insertion may also be omitted if a t<
plainer waist is desired. n
To make this waist for a woman of ti
medium Rize will require two and a
three-fourths yards of material, thirty tJ
inches wide. 4 . tl
A Simple But Stylish Gown. ?
An exceedingly effective disposition tl
of ribbon velvet is used to decorate y,
the oimple but stylish gown by May ^
Manton, shown in the large engraving, f
The material is Cuban red wide wale u
diagonal, on which the black velvet _
shows advantageously, the flounce
I - - 3 11 1 i. U1?1.
oeinR uneu turouguoui wiw umin
taffeta. Three round crystal buttons
decorate each front. Fitted liniugs
form tba foundation over which the
waist is arranged. The plastrou vest
is included in the right shoulder seam
and hooked over on the left. The
fronts are underfaced with the material
and roll back in broad pointed
lapels at the top, disclosing the
prettily trimmed vest. The seamless
back is smyoth across the shoulders,
the fulIi -38 at lower edcr^ being laid
in overlapping plaits and stitched
firmly to linings. A close-fitting collar
shaped in points that rise behind
the ears finishes the neck, closing in
centre back. The sleeves in latest
mode have the fullness at top gathered
and arranged over fitted linings, the
wrists being shaped to point over the _
hand. A daintily shaped girdle that
~ nlnuoo inviaiillv n>. tl-.fi I ?1,
Ulps ill UUUH VIV^UW ? , tll
left side. The shirt has a narrow j Ai
front gore and two wide circular i gr
poriion9 that meet at the centre back. | w
The placket may be lini.sbed at the j fr
left front seam under the flounce. b?
Short darts fit the top closely over the pi
hips, and the fullness in back is laid fr
in backward-turning plaits at each ja
side of the centre seam. The skirt is ar
of fashionable length and measures
about four yards at the foot. Tne m
circular flounce is applied over the or
lower edge and ripples slightly fft tho jn
front edges, where it is graduated to
very narrow width at *he top. The
front gore presents i elfect that |
is exceedingly stylisu. "'o costume re
may be suitably made of auy season- co
able material in silk or wool, and a no
charming effect is produced when the bu
front gore, vest and lapels are of con- th
trastiug fabric in harmonious colorincr. fu
M | !
FASHION. I ,
Lie decoration may be as plain or a
aborate as desired, the variety o
imming this season being almost
To make this waist for a lady ol
Rilinm sin-fl trill rnnnirA twrvvards ol
ateriai forty-four iuches wide. To
ake the skirt will require six and
iree-fourths yards of material th*
Shirt WaiRt Forecast*.
If the elixir of life was ever discov*
ed, certainly the Bummer shirt waist
is been dipped in it. Every eeasoD
predicted as its last, and each suessive
season sees it resurrected in
ighter hues and greater variety than
'er before. Last year's medium
zed sleeves proved satisfactory, and
is year's first display look as though
ey might be proof against any ripng
or giving away process. White
omises to be prime favorite in the
tmmer shirt wrist. This may be acmnted
for by the terrible experience
pale violets, blues and pinks, that
ive returned from the laundry a
uddy white and utterly unfit foi
ear in street or house. The washae
silk waist, which gave such satisction
last year, promises to be greatin
demand for the coming season
Button* and linclcles the Vogae.
Buttons and buckles are both worn
y women, but must havs a reason foi
teir being, either as objects of use
decoration; they are not to be put
1 at haphazard, but given something
i apparently hold in place. The
weled buttons may be found to match
most any gown, as they are made to
ipresent amethysts, carbuncles,, emaids,
turquoises, opals, sapphires,
ystals, etc. The one-sided blouse
onts fasten with four such buttons,
id the velvet belt has a buckle tc
nlstVt ?T. n rl i a a * TTnmfl Trmvrml
UVV/iil JJUUlbt) AAWUt w VWU?MM..
Waist With Distinctive Features.,
A woman cannot possibly have too
.anysbirt -waists, and so a variety in
;yle of shaping as well as material is
ways acceptable. One of the latest '
;signs is here represented in Delft
ne and white French percale, a maME"'
jrial that is shown in all the richest
ew colorings. The distinctive fea- ,
ires nre found in the groups of tucks j
ud plrats in front and back, and in j
le shaping of the yoke that follows
ie shoulder-line, extended back and ,
leet at the neck in centre. This gives
slender, long-waisted appearance !
iat is new, the ordinary shirt-waist ;
oke being objectionable on many for ,
ie reason that it cuts off the length. 1
he leather belt is fastened -with the
seful covered harness buckle.
THE LATEST DESIGN.
The full fronts are closed in centre
rough a box pleat of medium width.
I the neck and shoulder edges are !
oups of three forward-turning pleats, i
hioh are stitched a short distance !
nm the top to hoid them iu place. The I
ick is laid in three backward-turning '
eats at each side of centre that taper
om shoulders to waiSt, where they j
p closely. The ?tylish shirtsleeves j
e gathered top and bottom.
To make this waist for a woman of '
edium size will require three and I
le-fourth yards of material thirty |
The Return of tlie Ua*tlr.
Bustles are gradnally making their I
appearance. They are extremely j
nservative and careful, and so do |
t make tlieir presence too prominent, i
it if the sigus of the tirues mean any- j
ing they will be with us again soon, '
?: .. sv ' l'j . ?i,
'. :y* ' *' ../
DE. TAIMAGBS SEEMONTI
SUNDAY'S DISCOURSE BY THE NOTED d
Subject: "PerlU of the MetropolU"?1The tl
Luxury and the Squalor of Great Cities ^
Thrown Into Violent Contrast?Object ^
Lenons Drawn From ?xperlence.
Text: "Wisdom crletb without: she tit- fi
(ereth her voice in the streets."?Proverbs V
i., 20. *
We are all ready to listen to the vo!c?3 of ^
nature?the voices of the mountain, the ^
voices of the sea, the voices of the storm, 0
the voioes of the stat. As in some of the c
cathedrals In Europe there Is an organ at a
3lther end of the building, and the one in- b
itrument responds musically ft the other, t
jo in the great cathedral of nature day re- y
<ponds to day and night to nlgbt and d
flower to flower and star to star in the y
great harmonies of the universe. The t
springtime is an evangelist In blossoms a
preaching of God's love, and the winter is j,
* prophet?white bearded?symbolizing a
woe against our sins. We are all ready to n
Jsten to the voices of nature, but bow few a
)f us learn anything from the voices of the j,
aoisy and dusty street? You go to your >j
nechanism and to your work and to your t
merchandise, and you come back again, t
md often with how different a heart you c
pass through the streets. Are there no ^
ihlngs for us to learn from these pave- D
nents over which we pass? Are there no t
:ufts of truth growing up between these t:
. obblestones, beaten with tbe feet of toll n
ind pain and pleasure, the slow tread of ?
)ld age and the quiolcstep ofjchildhood? c
lye, there are great harvests to be reaped, j
ind now I thrust In the sickle because tbe ^
jarvest Is ripe. "Wisdom crleth without: t
ihe uttereth her voice in the streets." i
In tbe first place, the street impresses
ne with the fact that this life is a scene of f,
:oirand struggle. By ten o'clook every day c
:he city is jarring with wheels, and shuff- _
lug with feet, and humming with voices, t
ind covered with the breath of smoke- 0
itacks, and a rush with traffickers. Once r
nr. while you find a man going along with ?
!olded arms and with leisurely step, as <|
ihough be bad nothing to do; but for tbe B
most part, as you find men going down (
:hese streets on tbe way to business, there ^
3 anxiety in their faces, as though they fl
sad some errand which must be executed .
it the first possible moment. You are .
;ostled by tbOBe who have bargains to _
sake and notes to, sell. Up this ladder j
with a hod of bricks, out of this bank with r
i roll of bills, on this dray with a load of f
goods, dlgglDg a cellar, or shingling a roof, r
i>r shoeing a horse, or building a wall, or fl
sending a watch, or binding a book. In- g
iustry, with her thousand arms and tbou- j.
>?"ii uuaa and fhnnsund feet croes on sine- ?
Ing her song of work, work, work, while ?e
:he mills drum it and the steam whistles j
fife it. All this not because men love toil.
Borne one remarked, "Every man is as lazy
is he can afford to be." Bat it ij because
necessity with stern brow and with uplifted
whip stand over you re idy whenever vou
relax your toil to make your shoulderj
Jting with the lash.
Can it be'that passing up and down
these streets on your way to work and
ouslnoss that you do not learn anything
of the world's toil and anxiety and
3trugglc? Oh, how many drooping hearts,
how many eyes on the watch, how many
miles traveled, how muny burdens carried,
Low many losses suffered, how many
catties foujfht, how many victories gained,
Dow many defeats suffered, how many exasperations
endured; what losses, what
hunger, what wretchedness, what pallor, 8
what disease, what agony, what despair! E
Sometimes I have stopped at the corner of ^
the street as the multitudes went hither c
and von. and it has seemed;to me a great c
pantomime, and as I looked upon It my t
heart broke. This great tide of human life t
:hat goes d6wn the street is a rapid, tossed >
and turned aside, and dished ahead, and .
irlven back?beautiful in its confusion, ^
and confused In its beauty. In the carpeted
iisles of the forest, in the woods from r
which the eternal shadow Is never lifted, i
Dn the shore of the sea over which iron j
joust tosses the tangled foam sprinkling <
the cracked cliffs with a baptism of whirl- (
wind and tempest, is the best place to ,
jtudy God, but In the rushing, swarming, (
raving street is the best place ts study .
nan. ? .
Going down to your place of business I
ind coming home again, I charge you to >
100k about?see these signs of poverty, of (
wretchedness, of hunger, of sin, of bereave- .
ment?and as you go through tho streets, ;
ind come back through the-streets, gather ,
apin the arms of your prayer allthejor- J
row, all the losses, all the sufferings, all (
Via hapiiornrri(intH of those whom VOU DnSS. ,
iud present tbem in prayer before &u all- j
sympathetic God. in the greut day of
ateruity tbere will be thousands of persons
with whom you in this world never ex
ihanged one word, will rise up and call '
you blessed, and there will be a- thousand
fingers pointed at you in heaven, saying:
'That is the man, that is the woman, who !
Helped mo when I was hungry and sick and (
wandering and lost and heartbroken. That
is the man, that is the woman," and the
olessiug will come down upon you as
Christ shall say: "I was hungry, and ye
fed Me; I was naked, and ye clothed Me;" I ,
was sick and in prison, and ye visited Me;
inasmuch as ye did it to these poor waifs of
:he streets, ye did it to Me."
Again, the street impresses me with tho
fact that all classes and conditions of society
must commingle. We sometimes cnlture
a wicked exclusireness. Intellect despise*
ignorance. Refinement will have
nothing to do with boorishness. Gloves
hate the sunburned hand, and the high
forehead despises the fiat head, and the
trim hedgerow will have nothing to do
with the wild copsewood, and Athens hates
Nazareth. This ought not so to be. Thfe
astronomer roust come down from the
starry revelry an.' help us in our navigation.
The surgeon mast come away from
nis study of the human organism and set
our broken bones. Tho chemist must come
away from his laboratory, where he has
n?on atiidvint? analysis and synthesis, and
help us to understand the nature of the
joils. I bless God that all classes of people
ard compelled to meet on the street."
rho glittering couch wheels clashes against
the scavenger's curt.. Fine robes run
against thr peddler's pack. Robust health
meets wan sickness. Honesty confronts
fraud. Every class of people meets every
other clas?. Impudence und modest}*,
pride and humility, purity and beastliness, ;
frankness and hypocrisy, meeting on the ,
same block. In the same street, in the same
city. Oh, that Is what Solomon meant |
when ho said, "The rich and the poor meet i
together; the Lord is the Maker of them
I like this democratic principle of the (
gospel of Jesus Christ which recognizes
the fact that we stand before God one and
the same platform. Do not tuko on any
ftlrs. Whatever position you have gained I
in society you are nothing but a mac, ,
born of the same parent, regenerated by
the 9iiuie spirit, cleansed by the same
blood, to lie dowu in the same dnst, to go:
up in the same resurrection. It is high i
time that wo ail acknowledged not onlv .
rhe Fatherhood of God, but the brother- I
hood of man. !
Again, the street impresses me with the i
fact that it is a very hard thing for n m:iu I
to keep his heart right and sat to heaven. .<
Infinite temptations spring upon us from
these places of public concourse. Amid i
so much affluence, how much temptation ;
to covetousness and to be discontented
with our humble Jot! Amid so many op- :
poriunities for overreaching, what temma- I
tion to extortion! Amid so much display, i
what temptation to vanity! Amid so many ]
saloons of strong drink, what alureinent i
to dissipation! In the maelstroms and I
hell gates of the street how many make <
quick and eternal shipwreck! If a 1
man-of-war come* back from a bat- I
tie and is towed into the navy j
yard, wo no down to look a'; the
splintered spars and count the bullet holes
aLd look with patriotic admiration on the
flag that flouted in viciory ironi tae masthead.
liut that m*n i.? more of a curiosity 1
who lias gone through thirty year* of tne 1
sharpshooting of business life and yet sails j
on. victor over the temptations of the
street. Oh, how many lmv* gone down I
under the pressure, leaving not so much as j
the patch of canvas to tell where they per
ished! They never had any peace. Tfceir
dishonesties kept tolling In their ears. If :
I had an ax and could split open th? beams !
of that flne house, perhaps I would find in
the very heart of it a skeleton. In his very
best wlue there Is a smack of poor man's
sweat. Oh, !t Is strange that when a man
has devoured, widows' houses he is dis- ;
tarbed with indigestion? All the forces of i
nature are against him. The floods are i
ready to drown Uim una tue eurtUQuute to i:
.. . I. > \ ,
(Tallow him and the flres to consume blni
nd the lightnings to smite aim. Bat th4
hildren ot God are on everystreet, and in}. j
be daj when the crowns of heaven are, J
istributed som? of the brightest of theml %
111 be Riven to those men who were faith- ': -s
il to God and faithful to the sonls of
thers amid the marts of business, provfnjg , ' J
bemselves the heroes of the street.
CiKbtv were their temptations, mighty was
beir deliverance and mighty shall be their
Again, tbe street impresses me with tho .?
ict that life is fall of pretention and sham*. -
Phnt subterfuge, what double dealing,
rbat two facedness! Do all people who
rtsh you good morning really hope you a >
appy day? Do all the people who shako
ands love each other? Are all tbose auxins
about your health who Inquire conerning
it? Do all want to see you who ' ?
sk you to call? Does all the world know . *1'
all as much as It pretends to know? Is
here not many a wretched stock of goods
pith a brilliant show? Passing op and
own tbe streets to your business and your
rork, are you not impressed with thefact
bat society Is bol?ow and that that tbero
re subterfuges and pretensions? Oh, V
ow many there are who swagger \
nd strut, and bow few people who aro 5
atural and walkl While fops simper Vnd
fools obnckleand simpletons giggle,.
ow few people are natural and J aught $
'he courtesan and tbe libertine go down . v
he street In beautiful apparel, while within
he heart there are volcanoes of passion
onsuming their life away.> I say these . m
blngs not to create in you incredulity or
llsantbropy. nor do I forget there aro '
hnno.nit. nt nonrlo ft Hftlll better 23
ban they seem, but I do not think any .Si
lau 1b prepared for tbe conflict of thin life *3
ntll be knows tbls particular peril. Ehnd~j3W
omes pretending to pay bis tax to Ktoff' .3.
Iglon, and, while be stands In front of tbe 1 '&
ing, stabs blm through wltb a dagger un- . ' J
11 tbe haft went in'After tbe bl&de. Judos
scarlot kissed Christ.
Again, the street impresses me with the ,,;jB
act that It is a great field for Christina
barity. There are hunger and suffering*.
nd want and wretchedness in tbe conn- 'C?
ry, but these evils chiefly congregate in .VaB
ur great cities. On every street orim? jaB
rowls, and drunkenness staggers, and
bame winks, and pauperism thrusts out J
ts band asking for alms. Here wbat isQost
squalid and hunger is most lean. A. .j
Christian man, going along a street In Ne* /;.>&
,'ork, saw a poor lad, and he stopped <'JS
,cd said, *'My boy. do you know bow to
ead and write?" Tbe boy made noan.'SgB
wer. Tbe man asked the question twloe^ffjgj
,nd thrice. "Can you read and write?*
ind then tbe boy answered, with a tear ' jj
lashing on tbe back of bis band. He said vB
n defiance: "No, sir, don't read nor write. 'Jj
leitber. God, sir, don't want me to read r>?B
ind write. Didn't he take away ary father M
o long ago I never remember to have seen
ilnr? And baven't I bad to go along
treets to get something to fetch home toiat
for the folks? And didn'tl, as soon a? i?
. could carry a basket, have to go out and !r'
>tck up cinders and never have no school- ^
ug, sir? God don't want me to read. sir. y
can't read nor write, neither." Oh. these- t ^
>oor wanderers! They liave no cnance.. fc;3orn
In degradation, as they get up from '\l
heir hands and knees to walk, they tafcfrj
holr first step on the road of despair. Let' \3
is go forth In the name of the Lord Jean* ?
3hrist to rescae them. Let us ministers not'
>e afr&ld of soiling our black clothed while .
ye go down on that mission. While w? "C
ire tying an elaborate knot In our cravat ]
>r while we are in the study rounding off
iome period rhetorically we might be sav- ^
ngasoul from daath and hiding a multl- M
ude of sins. O Christian laymen, go out oa
his world If you are not willing to go- f]
orth yourself, then give of your means. . 'i
tnd if you are too lazy to go, and if you * \
ire too stingy to help, then get out of;the>
ray and hide yourself in the dens and
saves of the earth, lest, when Christ^ ?v?
ibariot comes along the horses' hQOffe
rample you into the mire. Beware leet; Jj
he thousands of the destitute of your city;' V53
n the last great day rise up and curse'. . 'r
rour stupidity and your neglect. Down to,\vorki
Lift them up. J 5
Ono cold winter's day, as a Christian (;iij
nau was going along the Battery In Neir VtS!
fork, he saw a little girl seated at the gate. V-shivering
in the cold. He said to her* \
'My child, what do you sit there for. tbla 4"
:old day?' "Oh," she replied, "I am.
vaitlng for somebody to come and tak? ; M
:are of me." ''Why," said the man.- -iS
'what makes you think anybody will com* j
ind take care of you?" "Ob," she
'my mother died last week, and I was cry- ,<!;
ing very much, and she said: 'Don't cry,
iear, though I am gone and your father Is ;x|
5one, the Lord will send somebody to tak?
srre of you.' My mother never told a lie; >?
ihe said some one would come and tak* '*
sareofme, nndl am waiting forthtim to -j
:ome." Oh, yes, they are waiting for -A
you. Ken who have money, men who <1
have influence, men of churches, men of ; >
[jreat bearte, gather them in, gather them ^
In. It Is not the will of your Heavenly
Father that one of these little ones should
Lastly, the street Impresses me wltbth* ;
fact that all the people art* looking for*
ward. I see expectancy written oa almoct
every face I taeet. Where you find a thou- v.
aand people walking straight.on, you only
And one stopping and looking oacic. xa*
fact Is, God made us all to look ahead, be- Jcause
we are Immortal. In thU tramp of tbe
multitude on tbe streets I hear th? J
trump of a great host, marching and
marching for eternity. Beyond the office,
the store, tbe shop, the street, there -la a V
world, populous and tremendous. Through
God's grace, may you reach that bleseed ^
place. A great throng fills thoso bocle* '
vards, and the streets are arush wltb 3
tbe chariots of conquerors. The inhabitants
go up and down, but they nevex >!
weep and tbe never toil. A river flows 'ft
through that city, with rounded and luxurious
"oantcs, and the trees of life, laden
with everlasting fruitage, bead their - '
branches into tbe orystal.
No plumed hearse rattles over that pave- ' jj
ment, fortbeyure never sick, With lm-.
mortal health glowing in every vein, they }'A
know not how to die. Those towers of Ajj
strengtl), those palaces of beauty, gleam ' gj
in the light of a sun that never sets. OJbr m
beaveu, beautiful heaven! Heaven/ j|
where our friends are! Tbe tafce no
census iu that city, for it is inhab- jg
ited by "a multitude which no man :A
can number." Rank above rank.
Host above host. Gallery above gallery,
sweeping all around the heavens. Thou*
sands of thousands. Millions of millions,
wluoaaH n m rh?v who enter in throuch the
pate liito that city. Oh, start for It today!
Through the blood of the great
sacrifice of tbe Son of God take up yon*
mnroa to heaven. "The spirit and tbe
bride say, Come, and, whosoever will, let
bim come and take the water of life freely." .
Join this creat throng marching heavenward.
A'I the ioor* ol Invitation are
open. "Aad I saw twelve gates, and the
twelve gates were twelve pearls."* ?*
KO STATE RELIGION FOR JAPAN.
I'bo Statement That Clirinlianily Will Bf
Adopted la Unfounded.
Much Interest was manifested at Washington
la the reports to the effect t bat the
Japanese Government is discussing a plaD
!o adopt Christianity as the State religion.
So far'us could be "ascertained, however
:he statement lacks credibility or foundaion
in fact. The published report was
>bown to Jutaro Komura, the Japanese
Minister, who was asked to make a state.neat
on tue subject. In reply, through an
xttacbe, bo spoke substantially a3 follows:
"The statement that Japan Is discussing
i plan to adopt Christianity as its State reigion
Is cot true, and there is no possibiltv
of this being done. Unlike" Russia- 1
England and other European countries,'
:.ie Japanese Goverameut has no State religion;
but, according to the cocstitutlor
the country, every religion Is given the
iberty to exercise Its functions so long as
they 1J0 not Interfere with or disturb tb?
peace, order aud good morals of society.'*
Colony in Tuba.
On tbe Isle ?! Pities, off Cuba, some Chipeople
propose to found a co-opera^ <
tlve colony. The projectors agreed to call ?'
the community tbe Chicago Colony of the
Isle of Pines. The proposition is to ortranlzs
a society with a capitalization ol
about $75,000 and composed or tne beads 01
100 families in Chicago aDd the Middl?
West, purchase 5000 acres of land on tb?
[-land rind establish a community, to b#
jelf-sove.'uiug, co-operative and demoeratk*.
The Biitnarck*' >7e*r Reitinj Plac*.
Tjo bodies of Prince nnd Prinoes9 Bis*
mnrck were placed in the new mausoleum
at Friedericbsrub, Germany, u few day*
ugo, Emperor William attending the cere*