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The Chanute times. (Chanute, Kan.) 1897-1913, October 22, 1897, Image 7

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CHAPTER. XL (Continued.)
'I have a casualty to report," said
the captain, "which diminishes our
numbers by one. My second lieuten
ant, who was to have joined the ex-,
plorlng party, has had a fall on the
Ice. Judging by what the quartermas
ter tells me, I am afraid the poor fel
low has broken his leg."
"I will supply his place," cried a
voice at the other end of the hut.
Everybody looked round. The man
who had spoken ao was Richard War
Sour. Crayford Instantly Interfered so
vehemently as to astonish all who
heard him.
"No!" ho said. "Not you, Richard,
cot you."
"Why not?" Wardour asked Bternly.
"Why not. Indeed?" added Captain
Helding. "Wardour Is the very man
to be useful on a long march. He Is In
perfect health, and he Is the best shot
among us. I was on the point of pro
posing him myself."
Crayford failed to show his custom
try respect for his superior officer. He
openly disputed the captain's conclu
sions. "Wardour' has no right to volun
teer," he rejoined. "It has been set
tled, Captain Helding, that chance
shall decldo who Is to go and who Is
to stay."
"Ard chance ha3 decided it," said
Wardcur. "Do you think we are going
to cast the dice again, and give an of
ficer of the Sea-Mew a chance of re
placing an officer of the Wanderer?
There is a vacancy in our party, not
in yours; and we claim the right of
filling It as we please. I volunteer,
and my captain backs me. Whose au
thority Is to keep me here after that?"
' "Gently, Wardour," said Captain
Helding "A man who Is in the right
can afford to speak with moderation."
He turned to Crayford. "You must
admit yourself," he continued, "that
Wardour is right this time. The miss
ing man belongs to my command, and
In common justice one of my officers
ought to supply his place."
. It wan impossible to dispute the mat
ter further. The dullest man present
could see that the captain's reply was
unanswerable. In sheer despair, Cray
lord took Frank's arm and led him
aside a few ;teps. The last chance left
of parting the two men was the chance
of appf allng to Frank.
"My dear boy," he began, "I want to
say one friendly word to you on the
subject of your health. I have already,
If you remember, expressed my doubts
whether you are strong enough to
make one of an exploring party.
I feel these doubts more strong
ly that ever at this moment. Will you
take the advice of a friend who wishes
you well?"
Wardour had followed Crayford.
Wardour roughly Interposed before
Frank could interpose.
I "Let him alone!"
! Crayford paid no heed to the Inter
ruption. He was too earnestly bent
on withdrawing Frank from the expe
dition to notice anything that was said
or done by the persons about him.
"Don't, pray don't, risk hardships
which you are unfit to bear!" he went
on entreatingly. "Your place can be
easily filled. Change your mind, Frank.
Stay here with me."
; Again Wardour Interfered. Again he
called out, "Leave him alone!" more
roughly than ever. Still deaf and blind
to every consideration but one, Cray
ford pressed his entreaties on Frank.
I "You owned yourself just now that
you were not. well seasoned to fatigue,"
he persisted. "You feel (you must feel)
"how weak that last Illness has left you.
You know (I am sure you know) how
nflt you are to brave exposure to cold
and long marches over the snow."
! Irritated beyond endurance by Cray
lord's obstinacy seeing, or thinking he
eaw, signs of yielding in Frank's face
Wardour so far forgot himself as to
seize Crayford by the arm and attempt
to drag him away from Frank. Cray
ford turned and looked at him.
: "Richard," he said, very quietly,
''you are not yourself. I pity you.
iDrop your hand."
I Wardour relaxed his hold with some
thing of the sullen submission of a
"wild animal to Its keeper. The mo
mentary silence which followed gave
Frank an opportunity of speaking at
last
! "I am gratefully sensible, Crayford,"
he began, "of the Interest which you
take In me "
! "And you will follow my advice?"
Crayford Interposed eagerly.
I "My mind is made up, old friend,"
Frank answered, firmly and sadly.
'Forgive me for disappointing you. I
am appointed to the expedition. With
the expedition I go." He moved nearer
to Wardour. In his innocence of all
usplclon, he clapped Wardour heart
ily on the shoulder. "When I feel the
fatigue," said poor simple Frank, "you
.will help me, comrade won't you?
Come along!"
I
Wardour snatched his gun out of the
ihands of the sailor who was carrying
it for him. Hl3 dark face became rad
io1 enly inaOlated with a terrible Joy.
J "Come!" he 6ald. "Over the saow
and over the ice! Come! where no
human footsteps have ever trodden,
juid where no human trace is ever left"
f A N0Y6L DY
' WILKE. COLLINS.
INTERNATIONAL PRESS ASSOCIATION.
Blindly, instinctively, Crayford mode
an effort to part them. His brother
officers, standing near, pulled him
back. They looked at each other anx
iously. The merciless cold, striking
Its victims In various ways, had struck
In some Instances at their reason first.
Everybody loved Crayford. Was he,
too, going on the dark way that oth
ers had taken before him? They forced
him to seat hlmaelf on one of the lock
ers. "Steady, old fellow!" they said
kindly "steady!" Crayford yielded,
writhing Inwardly under a Ecnse of his
own helplessness. What in God's name
cculd he do? Could he denounce War
dour to Captain Helding oh bare sus
picionwithout so much as the shadow
6f a proof to justify what he said? The
captain would decline to insult one of
his offlcars by even mentioning the
monstrous accusation to him. The
captain would conclude, as others had
already concluded, that Crayford's
mind was giving way under stress of
cold and privation. No hope, literally,
no hope now but in the numbers of the
expedition. Officers and men, they all
liked Frank. As long as they could
stir hand or foot they would help him
on th9 way they would see that no
harm came to him.
The word of command was given;
the door was thrown open; the hut
emptied rapidly. Over the merciless
white snow under the merciless black
sky the exploring party began to
move. The sick and helpless men,
whoso last hope of rescue centered in
their departing messmates, cheered
faintly. Some few whose days were
numbered sobbed and cried like wom
en. Frank's vo.ee faltered as he turn
ed back at the door to say his last
words to the friend who had been a
father to him.
"God bless you, Crayford!"
Crayford broke away from the offi
cers near him, and, hurrying, for ward,
seized Frank by both hands. Crayford
held him as If he would never let him
go.
"God preserve you, Frank! I would
give all I have in the world to be with
you. Good-by! Good-by!"
Frank waved his hand dashed away
the tears that were gathered in his
eyes and hurried out, Crayford call
ed after him, the last, the only, warn
ing that he could give:
"While you can stand, keep with the
main body, Frank!"
Wardour, waiting till the last War
dour, following Frank through the
snow-drift stopped, stepped back, and
answered Crayford at the door:
"While he can stand, he keeps with
me!"
CHAPTER XII.
LONE! alone on
the Frozen Deep!
The Arctic sun Is
rising dimly In the
dreary sky. The
beams of the cold
northern moon,
mingling strangely
with the dawning
light, clothe the
snowy plains In
hues of livid gray.
An ice-field on the far horizon is mov
ing slowly southward in the spectral
light. Nearer, a stream of open water
rolls its slow black waves past the
edges of the ice. Nearer still, follow
ing the drift, an iceberg rears its crags
and pinnacles to the sky; here, glit
tering in the moonbeams; there, loom
ing dim and ghostlike in the ashy
light.
Midway on the long sweep of the
lower slope of the Iceberg, what ob
jects rise and break the desolate mono
tony of the scene? In this awful soli
tude can signs appear which tell of hu
man life? Yes! The black outline of
a boat just shows itself, hauled up on
the berg. In an ice-cavern behind the
boat, the last red embers of a dying
fire flicker from time to time over the
figures of two men. One Is seated,
resting his back against the side of
the cavern. The other lies prostrate
with his head on his comrade's knee.
The first of these men is awake, and
thinking. The second reclines, with
hia still white face turned up to the
sky sleeping or dead. Days and days
since, these two have been given up by
their weary and falling companions as
doomed and lost. He who sits think
ing is Richard Wardour. He who lies
sleeping or dead is Frank Aldersley.
The iceberg drifts slowly; over the
black water; through the ashy light.
Minute by minute the dying fire sinks.
Minute by minute the deathly cold
creeps nearer and nearer to the lost
men.
Richard Wardour rouses himself
from his thoughts, looks at the still
white face beneath him, and places his
hand on Frank's heart It still beats
feebly. Give him his share of the food
and fuel still stored in the boat, and
Frank may live through It. Leave him
neglected where he lies, and his death
is a question of hours, perhaps min
uteswho knows?
Richard Wardour lifts the sleeper's
head and rests It against the cavern
side. He goes to the boat and returns
with a billet of wood. He stoops to
place the wood on the fire, and stops.
Frank Is dreaming, and murmuring in
his dream. A woman's name passes
his lips. Frank is In England again
at the brill whispering to Cla:a the
confession of his love.
Over Richard Wardour's face there
passes the shadow of a deadly thought.
He rises from the Are; he takes the
wood back to the boat. His iron
strength is shaken, but it still holds
out. They are drifting nearer and
nearer to the open sea. He can launch
the boat without help; ho can take the
food and the fuel with him. The sleep
er on the iceberg is the man who has
robbed him of Clara who has wrecked
the hope and the happiness of his life.
Leave the man In his sleep, and let him
die!
So the tempter whispers. Richard
Wardour tries his strength on the boat.
It moves; he has got it under con
trol. Ho stops, and looks around. Be
yond him is the open sea. Beneath
him is the man who has robbed him of
Clara. The shadow of the deadly
thought grows and darkens over his
face. He waits with his hands on the
boat waits and thinks.
The Iceberg drifts slowly; over the
black water; through the ashy light.
Minute by minute the dying fire sinks.
Minute by minute the deathly cold
cieen3 nearer to the sleeping man. And
still Richard Wardour waits waits and
thinks. '
CHAPTER XIII.
) HE spring has
come. The air of
the April nignt just
lifts the leaves of
the sleeping flow
ers. The moon
Is queen in the
cloudless and star
less sky. The still
ness of
night
the mid
hour is
over land
abroad,
and over cea.
In a villa on the westward shore of
the Isle of Wight, the glas3 doors
which lead from the drawing room to
the garden are yet open. The shaded
lamp yet burns on the table. A lady
sits by the lamp reading. From time
to time she looks out into the garden
and sees tho white-robed figure of a
young girl pacing slowly to and fro In
the soft brightness of the moonlight on
the lawn. Sorrow and suspense have
set their nark on the lady. Not rivals
only, but friends who formerly admired
her, agree now that she looks worn and
aged. The more merciful judgment of
others remark, with equal truth, that
her eyes, her hair, her simple grace
and grandeur of movement have lost
but little of their olden charms. The
truth lies, as usual, between the two
extremes. In spite of sorrow and suf
fering, Mrs. Crayford is the beautiful
Mrs. Crayford still.
The delicious silence of the hour Is
softly disturbed by the voice of the
young lady in the garden.
"Go to the piano, Lucy. It is a night
for music. Play something that is
worthy of the night."
Mrs. Crayford looks round at the
clock on the mantel-piece.
"My dear Clara, it Is past twelve!
Remember what the doctor told you.
You ought to have been In bed an hour
ago."
"Half an hour, Lucy give me half
an hour more! Look at the moonlight
on the sea. Is it possible to go to bed
on such a night as this? Play some
thing, Lucy something spiritual and
divine."
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
ROPE FROM THE SEA.
A Seaweed Whose Stem Is 800 Foet
Long.
The largest marine plant and proba
bly one of the highest plants known on
this globe, Is a gigantic seaweed, the
nereocystls, the stem of which has
been found to grow as much as 300 feet
long, says an exchange. It was first
discovered not far from the Alaskan
coast, but has since been found floating
in various parts of the Pacific ocean
along the American and Asiatic shores.
This seaweed grows in a very curious
manner. Large quantities of it are
found at a little distance from shore,
and at a depth not exceeding 300 feet.
On loamy botton large thickets of this
plant take-root and a stem of the thick
ness of ordinary cord grows upward.
At its top there is a pear shaped bal
loon, which grows with the stem, and
when It reaches the surface of the wat
er it often measures six feet and more
In length, with a diameter of four feet
six inches. This balloon has, of course,
an upward tendency, and keeps the
stem growing until it floats on the sur
face of the water. From the top of
this balloon a large tuft of strong,
thick, spade-like leaves grows out,
which originally are not more than two
feet long, and which grow and split
until from the balloon a rose-like
growth of from fifty to sixty-five feet
in diameter covers the water. This
gigantic weed grows in such quantities
that near the shore large meadow-like
islands are formed, which Impede nav
igation. The natives of the Aleutian
islands make manifold usage of this
plant. From the strong dried stems
they make rope 250 feet and more ong,
while balloons of this weed furnish
them with large vessels after they are
dried, the smaller ones being used in
their boats to bail out water. The long
leaves after being dried are cut into
narrow strips and used for wickerwork,
the making of baskets and similar fur
niture. And Bene She Didn't,
He "If I should kiss you would you
scream?" She "Indeed I would, if It
were not for startling poor mamma."
Detroit Free Press.
Twenty years ago England had 11.61S
male and 14,901 femal school teachers.
Last year there were 66,310 female and
only 28,270 male teachers.
ifff
TALMAGE'S SERMON.
"THE THREE TAVERNS" LAST
SUNDAY'S SUBJECT.
From the Text! Acts, Chapter XXVIII.,
Verse 15. as Follows! "They Cmiie
to Meet t as Far as AppU" Forum
and the Three Taverns.
EVENTEEN miles
south of Rome, Ita
ly, there was a vil
lage of unfortunate
name. A tavern Is a
place of entertain
ment. In our time
part of the enter
tainment is a provi
sion of intoxicants.
One such place you
would think would
have teen enough for that Italian vil
lage. No, there were three of them,
with doors open for entertainment and
obfuscation. The world has never
.iinninHni rtrhikn. You re-
lUtACU DLimuii.nes " '
member the condition of Noah on one
occasion, and of Abigail's husband, wa
bal, and the story of Belshazzar's feast,
and Benhadad, and the new wine In old
bottles, and whole paragraphs on pro
hibition enactment thousands of years
before Neal Dow was born; and no
doubt there were whole shelves of In
flammatory liquid In those hotels wmtu
cave the name to the village where
Paul's friends came to meet him, name
ly, the Three Taverns. In vain 1 searcn
ancient geography for some satisfying
account of that village. Two roads
came from the sea coast to that place;
the one from Actium, and the other
from Puteoll, the last road being the
one which Paul traveled. There were,
no doubt, in that village houses of mer
chandise and mechanics' shops, "and
professional offices, but nothing is
lrrmwn nf thpm. All that We knOW Of
that village is that it had a profusion of
Inna the Three Taverns. Paul did not
choose any one of these taverns as the
place to meet his friends. He ceriam
abstemious, but they made
the selection. He had enlarged about
keeping the body under, though once
he prescribed for a young theological
student a stimulating cordial for a
stomachic disorder; but he told him to
take onlv a small dose "a little wine
for thy stomach's sake."
One of the worst things about these
Three Taverns was that they had es
neclal teniDtatlon for those who had
just come ashore. People who had just
landed at Actium or Puteoll were soon
tempted by these three hotels which
wer onlv a little way up from the
beach. Those who are disordered of
the sea (for it is a physical disorganiz
ed . instead of waiting for tne gradual
return of physical equipose, are apt to
take artificial means to brace up. ui
the one million sailors now on the sea,
how few of them coming ashore will
escaoe the Three Taverns! After sur
viving hurricanes, cyclones, icebergs,
collisions, many of them are wrecked
in harbor. I warrant that if a calcu
lation were made of the comparative
number of sailors lost at sea, and lost
ashore, those drowned by the crimson
wave of dissipation would far outnum
ber those drowned by the salt water.
Alas! that the large majority of
those who go down to the sea In ships
should have twice to pass the Three
Taverns, namely, before they go out,
and after they come In. That fact' was
what aroused Father Taylor, the great
sailor's preacher, at the Sailors' Bethel,
Boston, and at a public meeting at
Charlestown, he said, "All the machin
ery of the drunkard making, soul de
stroying business is in perfect running
order, from the low grog holes on tne
docks keDt ODen to ruin my poor sailor
boys, to the great establishments In
Still House square, and when we ask
men what is to be done about it, they
sav. vou can't help it," and yet there
Is Bunker Hill and you say you can't
stop it, and up there are Lexington
and Concord." We might answer
Father Tavlor's remark by saying, "the
trouble is not that we can't stop it, but
that we won't stop it." We must have
more generations slain before the world
will fully wake up to the evil. That
which tempted the travelers of old who
came ud from the seaports of Actium
and Puteoll, Is now the ruin of sea
faring men as they come up from the
coasts of all the continents, namely, the
Three Taverns. In the autumn, about
this time, in the year 1837, the steam
ship Home went out from New York for
Charleston. There were about one hun
dred passengers, some of them widely
known. Some of them had been sura
merine at the northern watering places
and they were on their way south, all
expectant of hearty greeting by their
friends on the wharves or Charleston.
But a little more than two days out the
ship struck the rocks. A life boat was
launched, but sank with all Us passen
gers. A mother was seen standing on
the deck of the steamer with her child
in her arms. A wave wrenched the
child from the mother's arms and
rolled it into the sea, and the mother
leaped after it. The sailors rushed to
the bar of the boat and drank them
selves drunk. Ninety-five human be
ings went down never to rise, or to be
floated upon the beach amid the frag
ments of the wreck. What was the
cause of the disaster? A drunken sea
captain. But not until the judgment
day, when the sea shall give up its dead
and the story of earthly disasters shall
be fully told, will it be known how
many yachts, steamers, brigatines.men-of-war
and ocean greyhounds have
been lost through captain and crew
made Incompetent by alcoholic de
thronement Admiral Farragut had
proper appreciation of what the fiery
stimulus was to a man in the navy. An
officer of the warship "said to 'him,
"Admiral, won't you consent to give
Jack a glass of grog in the morning?
Not enough to make him drunk, but
enough to make him fight cheerfully."
The admiral answered. "I have been
to sea considerably, and have seen a
battle or two. but I never found that I
mm
needed rum to enable me to do my
duty. I will order two cups of coffee
to each man at two o'clock In the morn
ing, and at eight o'clock I will pipe all
hands to breakfast in Mobile Bay."
The Three Taverns of my text were
too near the Mediterranean shipping.
But notice the multiplicity. What
could that Italian village, so small that
history makes but one mention of it,
want with more than one tavern? There
were not enough travelers coming
through that Insignificant town to sup
port more than one house of lodg
ment. That would have furnished
enough pillows and enough breakfasts.
No, the world's appetite Is dlseasea,
and the subsequent draughts must be
taken to slack the thirst created by tne
nrecedine draughts. Strong drink kin
dles the fires of thirst faster than it
puts them out. There were three tav
erns. That which cursed that Italian
village curses all Christendom today
too many taverns. There are streets
In some of our cities where there are
three or four taverns In every block;
aye, where every other house is a tav
ern. You can take the Arabic numeral
of mv text, the three, and nut on the
right hand side of it one cipher, and
two ciphers, and four ciphers, and tnai
re-enforcement of numerals will not
exnress the statistics of American rum
merles. Even if it were a good, healthy
business, sunnlvine necessity, an arti
cle superbly nutritious, it is a business
mightily overdone, and there are Three
Taverns where there ought to be only
one.
The fact is. there are In another
sense Three Taverns now; the gorgeous
Tavern for the affluent, the medium Ta
vern for the working classes, and the
Tavern of the slums, and they stand in
line, and manv neoDle beginning with
the first come down through the second
and come out at the third. At the first
of the Three Taverns, the wines are of
celebrated vintage, and the whiskies
are said to be pure, and they are
quaffed from cut glass, at marble side
tables, under pictures approaching
masterpieces. The patrons pull off
their kind gloves, and hand their silk
hats to the waiter, and push back their
hair with a hand on one finger of
which is a cameo. But those patrons
are apt to stop visiting that place. It
is not the monev that a man pays for
.drinks, for what are a few hundred or
a few thousand dollars to a man of
large income but their brain gets
touched, and that unbalances their
judgment, and they can see fortunes
in enterprises surcharged with disas
ter. In longer or shorter time they
change Taverns, and they come down
to Tavern the second, where the pic
tures are not quite so scrupulous of sug
gestion, and the small table is rougher,
and the castor standing on it is of Gee
man silver, and the air has been kept
over from the night before, and that
which they sip from the pewter mug
has a larger percentage of benzine, am
bergris, creosote, henbane, strychnine,
prussic acid, coculus indicus, plaster of
paris, copperas, and nightshade. The
patron may be seen almost every day,
and perhaps many times the same day
at this Tavern the second, but he is
preparing to graduate. Brain, liver,
heart, nerves, are rapidly giving way.
That Tavern the second has its dismal
echo in his business destroyed and fam
ily scattered, and woes that choke one's
vocabulary. Time passes on, and he
enters Tavern the third; a red light
outside; a hiccoughing and besotted
group inside. He will be dragged out
of doors about two o'clock in the morn
ing and left on the sidewalk, because
the bartender wants to shut up. The
poor victim has taken the regular
course in the college of degradation. He
has his diploma written on his swollen,
bruised and blotched physiognomy. He
is a regular graduate of the Three
Taverns. As the police take him in
and put him In the ambulance, the
wheels seem to rumble with two rolls
of thunder, one of which says, "Look
not upon the wine when it is red, when
it moveth itself aright in the cup, for
at last it biteth like a serpent, and
stingeth like an adder." The other
thunder roll says, "All drunkards shall
have their place In the lake that burn
etii with fire and brimstone.
With these thoughts I cheer Christian
reformers in their work, and what re
joicing on earth and heaven there will
bj over the consummation. Within a
few days one of the greatest of the
leaders in this cause went up to en
thronement. The world never had but
one Neal Dow, and may never have
another. He has been an illumination
to the ceatury. The stand he took has
directly and indirectly saved hundreds
of thousands from drunkards' graves.
Seeing the wharves of Portland, Maine,
covered with casks of West Indian
rum (nearly an acre of it at one time),
and the city smoking with seven dis
tilleries, he began the warfare against
drunkenness more than half a century
ago. The good he has done, the homes
he has kept Inviolate, the high moral
sense with which he has infused ten
generations, is a story that neither
earth nor heaven can afford to let die.
Derided, belittled, caricatured, malign
ed, for a quarter of a century as few
men have been he has lived on until
at his decease universal newspaperdom
speaks his praise and the eulogiums of
his career on this side of the sea have
been caught up by the cathedral organ
sounding his requiem on the other. His
whole life having been for God and the
world's betterment, when at half-past
three o'clock In the afternoon of Oc
tober second he left his homeon earth
surrounded by loving ministers, and
entered the gates of his eternal resi
dence, I think there was a most unu
sual welcome and salutation given
him. Multitudes enter heaven only be
cause of what Christ has done for
them, the welcome not at all Inten
sified because of anything they had
dene for him. But all heaven knew
the story of that good man's life, and
the beauty of his death-bed, where he
said, "I long to be free." I think all
the reformers of heaven came out to
hall him lu, the departed legislators
who made laws to restrain Intemper
ance, the consecreated platform ora
tors who thrilled the generations that
are gone, with "righteousness, temper
ance, and judgment to come" Albert
Barnes and John B. Gough were there
to greet him, and golden-tongued pa
triarch SteDhen H. Tyng was there,
and John W. Hawkins, the founder of
the much derided and gloriously use
ful "Washlngtonian Movement was
there, and John Sterns and Commo
dore Foote, and Dr. Marsh and Gov
ernor Brlggs and Ellphalet Nott, and
mv lovely friend Alfred Colquitt, the
Chistlan Senator, and hundreds of
those who labored for the overthrow
of the drunkenness that yet curses the
earth, were there to meet him and es
cort him to his throne and Bhout at
his coronation.
God let him live on for near a cen
tury, to show what good habits and
cheerfulness and faith in the final tri
umph of all that is good, can do for a
man In this world, and to add to the
number of those who would be on the
other side to attend his entrance. But
he will come back again! "Yes," say
some of you, with Martha, about Laza
rus to Jesus, "I know he will rise at
the Resurrection of the last day." Ah!
I do not mean that. Ministering spir
its are all the time coming and going
between earth and heaven the Bible
teaches It and do you suppose the old
hero just aEcended will not come down
and help us in the battle that still
goes on? He will. Into the hearts of
discouraged reformers he will come to
speak good cheer. When legislators
are deciding how they can best stop
the rum traffic of America by legal
enactment, he will help them vote for
the right and rise up undismayed from
temporary defeat. In this battle will
Neal Dow be until the last victory is
gained and the smoke of the last dis
tillery has curled on the air, and the
last tear of despoiled homesteads shall
be wiped away. O departed nonage
narian! After ycu have taken a good
rest from your struggle of seventy act
ive years, come down again into the
fight, and bring with you a host of the
old Christian warriors who once
mingled in the fray.
In this battle the visible troops are
not so mighty as the invisible. The
gospel campaign began with the su
pernaturalthe midnight chant that
woke the shepherds, the hushed sea.
the eyesight given where the patient
had been without the optic nerve, the
sun obliterated from the noonday
heavens, the law of gravitation loosing
its grip as Christ ascended; and as
the gospel campaign began with the
supernatural, it will close with the su
pernatural; and the winds and the
waves and the lightnings and the
earthquakes will come in on the right
side and against the wrong side; and
our ascended champions will return,
whether the world sees them or does
not see them. I do not think that those
great souls departed are going to do
nothing hereafter but sing psalms and
play harps, and breathe frankincense,
and walk seas of glass mingled with
fire. The mission they fulfilled while
in the body will be eclipsed by their
post-mortem mission, with faculties
quickened and velocities multiplied;
and It may have been to that our dy
ing reformer referred when he said, "I
long to be free!" There may be bigger
words than this to be redeemed, and
more gigantic abominations to be over
thrown than this world ever saw; and
the discipline gotten here may only be
preliminary drill for a campaign in
some other world, and perhaps some
other constellation. But the crowned
heroes and heroines, because of their
grander achievements in greater
spheres, will not forget this old world
where they prayed and suffered and
triumphed. Church militant and
Church triumphant but two divisions
of the same army right wing and
left wing.
PEOPLE OF THE COUNTPY.
Few of Them Seemed to Have Learned
Anything Noble from Nature.
"For the stability and righteousness
of our government we are accustomed
to think we must pin our faith on the
country people who live 'near to Na
ture's heart,' " writes Mrs. Lyman Ab
bott in the October Ladies' Home Jour
nal, the first of a series of "Peaceful
Valley" papers which picture life in an
ideal rural community. "But how
many of them," she says, "seem to
have learned anything noble from her?
Her beauty does not refine them, her
honesty does not Incite them to thor
oughness, her free-handedness does net
Inspire them to generosity they be
come narrow and sordid in the midst
of grandeur and liberality. They Im
agine there can be nothing in life but
work or play, toll or rest, and they feel
a contempt for those who play and rest.
They have never learned to mingle
work and play, toll and rest In due
proportion, and they cease to find any
pleasure in life unless they abandon
work altogether. Like the tired wom
an who wrote her own epleaph, they
fancy heaven a place where they can
'do nothing forever and ever." This
view of life makes loafers in the vil
lage as it makes them in the cities.
When a different spirit has found room
to grow, a new order of living prevails.
Life becomes something more than a
slow grinding of the mill, more than
a burden, to be endured only because
a luxury as well as a necessity. Indi
viduals combine, not for their own ad
vantage, but to multiply benefactions,
and as strength increases, by, its right
use, the attainment of one worthy and
ambitions advantage is only the sug
gestion and achievement of another."
Ebhen's Philosophy.
"Nine times outer ten," said Uncle
Eben, "a gemman advises young men
ter choose some yuthuh business dan
whut he got Into. He takes It fob.
granted dat It took a heap mo' dan
common smahtness ter succeed like ha
did." Washington Star

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