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Vol. 5. No. 40. MATERIALS OF A STORY. 1 met a friend of mine the other day Upon the platform of a West End car; We shook hands, and my friend began to say Quickly, as if he were not going far, “East summer something rather In your way Came to my knowledge. 1 was asked to see A young man who had come to talk with me Because I was a clergyman; and he Told me at once that he had served his time In the State’s prison for a heinous crime, And was just out. He had no friends, or none To speak of; and he seemed far gone With a bad cough. He said he had not done The thing. They all say that. You cannot tell. He might not have been guilty of it. Well, What he now wanted was some place to stay, And work that he could do. 1 managed it With no great trouble. And then, there began The strangest thing 1 ever knew. The man, Who showed no other signs of a weak wit, Was hardly settled in his place a week When he came round to see me, and to speak About his lodging. What the matter was He could not say, or would not tell the cause, But he must leave that place; he could not bear To stay. I found another room, but there After another week he could not stay. Again 1 placed him. and he came to say At the week’s end that he must go away. So it went on, week after week, and then At last I made him tell me. It appears That his imprisonment of fifteen years Had worn so deep into the wretch’s brain That any place he happened to remain Longer than one day in began to seem His prison and all over again to him. And when the thing had got into this shape. He was quite frantic till he could escape. Curious, was not it? And tragical.’’ "Tragical? I believe you! Was that all? What has become of him?" "Oh. he is dead. 1 told some people of him, and we made A decent funeral for him. At the end It came out that his mother was alive An outcast—and she asked our leave to attend The ceremony, and then asked us to give The silver coffin plate, carved with his name. And the flowers, to her.” "That was touching. She Had that much good left her in her infamy.” "Why, I don’t know! I think she sold the things. Together with a neck pin and some rings Thftt he had left, and drank . . . But as to blame . . . Good day to you! ” My friend stepped down At the street crossing. I went on uptown. —W. D. Howells, in Harper’s Monthly. The Saloonkeeper. To the man of varied experience, there’s no animal so well known as the saloon keeper. He’s a rustler and keeps abreast of the times. He’s in the vanguard retail ing his liquid poison at four bits (50 cents) a drink; he’s in the rear in his stone front and mirrored interior; he’s everywhere! He’s the leech that is sucking the blood of progress and civilization—the parasite on the body politic. There was a time when it was possible to find an “honest, truthful, virtuous, peace loving,. law-abiding saloonkeeper.” That was before the frugal tavernkeeper of colo nial times, who brewed his own ale and whose wife brought in the hot water and sugar to make the punch, degenerated into the wolf of a modern saloonkeeper. There probably remains yet, in remote Dutch set tlements, some of his descendants, but we have never met with them. Taken in the abstract, an honest saloon keeper is an impossibility. Selfishness is his cardinal virtue, and this, when carried to excess, as it always is where the moral faculties are blunted, is diametrically op posed to honesty. Who ever heard of a moral saloonkeeper? Occasionally you find him in the church, but the only church that admits him is the Catholic church, and her doors are always open to sinners of every grade, race and color. He’s debarred from the society of Free Masons and we think that his exclusion has been considered in the Sovereign Grand Lodge of Odd Fellows. He’s prohibited from entering the Knights of Labor. Eveiy where the doors of good society are closed against him—he is a social Cain. As big a dunce as is Ward McAllis ter, he didn’t get a saloonkeeper in the 400 of New York. The tavern (we like this name better than saloon), when connected with the hotel or public house, is not a source of much dan ger, and in the existing order of society is a necessity. Most travelers, after a long journey, like a “drop of something hot.” It is against the barroom, or saloon, and its vulgar owner that we protest. He is in such business because he isn’t capable ot manag ing any other; he is sometimes illiterate, often vulgar; always ill-bred, but he is not ignorant. No man knows better how to domineer over the poor, and to toady the rich, than he does. The only literature he is acquainted with is the “Police Gazette,” “Lost for a Woman,” and "All for Love.” His manners are superficial and his mood Is “ IT IS NEVER TOO LATE TO MEND.” Stillwater, Minn., Thursday, May 12,1892. Five Gents. changeable as the coat of the chameleon. He is a Musselman with the Turk, a Mus covite with the Russian, and is always ready to take a drink and curse the Irish with the Saxon —providing always that you buy the drinks. You often find him married (every gan der has his goose); and if he would confine the business to members of his own family only it wouldn’t be so bad, but it is always the brightest boys in the neighborhood that he selects for bartenders. Their “soft white hands” are|then useless for honest toil, and when they are not employed dealing out drinks they are picking pockets. We know the saloonkeeper, know him well, and we candidly affirm that we never knew one who had the shadow of a claim to, or ever bore without abuse, “the grand old name of gentleman.” Make war on him! From the rostrum, from the pulpit, from the composing room, with a million tongues, make war on him. “Intemperate speech” is necessary; you must be heard. Romilly used it against English prisons, Garrison used it against slavery, and let every “Homekeeper” use it against this pest of modern civilization “the bane of society, the fountain of all wrong, the progenitor of crime, hatred and violence.” Lacon. Riche*. Every human life has its purpose, and also certain desires, and among the latter one of the chief is to acquire wealth. It is folly to contend against the desire even on moral grounds; as he who would be able to make the clearest case, would still fail in convincing himself that a “reasonable” share of this world’s goods would necessa rily disqualify hint for the highest state of human enjoyment, and the world has yet to see a philosopher, of whatever school, who would not make himself an exception to any rule which would constitute the get ting of riches a moral wrong. The possession of wealth is, in itself, neither good nor bad. It is only the use of money which circumscribes its moral tend encies. Even the Bible, that highest text book of morality, does not denounce riches per se. It is not money, but the love of it which is called the “the root of all evil.” To desire riches then is no evil. To the contrary, it is not only legitimate but high ly commendable. The possession of wealth not only adds to one’s importance in the community, but also places within the per son possessing same almost limitless powers to do good. There is not an enterprise that does not depend in the greatest measure for its suc cess and usefulness upon money. Through its potency, states are inhabited, churches erected, knowledge diffused, and the ave nues of commerce kept open. The acquisi tion of wealth then for the good it may do is a worthy purpose of life. How shall it be accomplished? Here is the key-note of all the dissatisfaction existing in the minds of the people. The modern means and ways used to acquire wealth create the trouble. There is seemingly no method which however illegitimate which ingenuity can devise, but that is resorted to for this end. To suddenly become rich is the pas sion of the age; and in striving to reach the goal, the rights of others are not considered in any way, or even given a moment’s thought. Laws should be enacted and placed upon the statue books prohibiting the acquisition of wealth by corrupt means. Wealth acquired by a man’s honesty and industry will be better appreciated, and better use made of it than of the riches ac quired on Stock Exchanges and Boards of Trade. Observer. A Maine man, notorious for his “near ness,” according to the Kennebec Journal, lately went into a meat-shop, and inquired the price of a certain soup bone. The pro prietor of the shop is a generous fellow; and, in answer to the old man’s question, he said, “Oh, I’ll give you that.” The cus tomer put his hand to his ear. He is hard of hearing, and had missed the reply. “Can’t you take something off of that?” he asked. The dealer took pity on him. “Yes.” he said, “call it ten cents.” And the old man went home with a comfortable sense of having driven a good trade. We cannot say with full realization "Our Father in Heaven,” until we can truly say “Our brother on eaith.”—Miss Elizabeth Harrison. ; • rr ■■ V. The Foundation of All Moral and Re ligious Reform. 4 Ye have heard that it was said by them of old time, thou shaltnot commit adultery; but I say unto you, that whosoever looketh on a woman to lust after her hath commit ted adultery with her already in his heart. —Fifth Chapter of Matthew. Judge not, that ye be not judged. For with what judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged; and with what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again. And why beholdest thou the mote that is in thy brother’s eye. but considerest not the beam that is in thine own eye? Or how wilt thou say to thy brother, let me pull out the mote out of thine eye: and, behold, a beam is in thine own eye? Thou hypocrite, first cast out the beam out of thine own eye; and then shalt thou see clearly to cast out the mote of thy brother’s eye.—Seventh Chap ter of Matthew. And it came to pass, as Jesus sat at meat in the house, behold, many publicans and sinners came and sat down with Him and His disciples. And when the Pharisees saw it they said unto His disciples, why eateth your Master with publicans and sinners? But when Jesus heard that, He said unto them, they that be whole need not a physi cian. but they that are sick. But go ye and learn what that meaneth, 1 will have mercy, and not sacrifice; for I am not come to call the righteous, but sinners to repent ance.”—Ninth Chapter of Matthew. Woe unto the world because of offenses! for it must needs be that offenses come; but woe to that man by whom the offense com et Ir! How think ye? If a man have an hun dred sheep, and one of them be gone astray, doth he not leave the ninety and nine, and goeth into the mountains, and seeketh that which is gone astray? And if so be that he find it, verily 1 say unto you, he rejoiceth more of that sheep than of the ninety and nine which went not astray. Even so it is not the will of your Father, which is in heaven, that one of these little ones should perish.—Eighteenth Chapter of Matthew. And one of the Pharisees desired Him that He would eat with him. And He went into the Pharisee’s house, and sat down to meat. And. behold, a woman in the city, which was a sinner, when she knew that Jesus sat at meat in the Phari see’s house, brought an alabaster box of ointment, and stood at His feet behind Him weeping, and began to wash His feet with tears, and did wipe them with the hairs of her head, and kissed His feet, and anointed them with the ointment. Now when the Pharisee which had bid den Him saw it, he spake within himself, saying: This man, if He were a prophet, would have known who and what manner of woman this is that toucheth Him; for she is a sinner. And Jesus answering said unto him, Simon, I have somewhat to say unto thee. And he saith, Master, say on. “There was a certain creditor which had two debt ors; the one owed five hundred pence and tne other fifty. And when they had noth ing to pay he frankly forgave them both. Tell me, theretore, which of them will love him most?” Simon answered and said, I suppose he to whom he forgave most. And He said unto him: Thou hast rightly judged. And He turned to the woman, and said unto Simon, Seest thou this woman? I entered into thine house, thou gavest me no water for my feet, but she hath washed my feet with tears, and wiped them with the hairs of her head. Thou gavest me no kiss, but this woman, since the time I came in, hath not ceased to kiss my feet. My head with oil thou didst not anoint; but this woman hath anointed my feet with ointment. Wherefore 1 say unto thee, her sins, which are many, are forgiven; for she loved much; but to whom little is forgiven, the same loveth little. And he said unto her, Thy sins are forgiven. And they that sat at meat with Him began to say within them selves. Who is this that forgiveth sins also? And He said to the woman, Thy faith hath saved thee; go in peace.—Sev enth Chapter of Luke. Two men went up into the temple to pray; the one a Pharisee, and the other a publican. The Pharisee stood and prayed thus with himself: God, I thank Thee that lam not as other men are, extortioners, unjust, adulterous, or even as this publican. ; -, v I fast twice in the week, I give tithes of al 1 that 1 possess. And the publican, standing afar off, would not lift up so much as his eyes unto heaven, but smote upon his breast, saying, God be merciful to me a sinner! I tell you, this man went down to his house justified rather than the other; for every one that exalteth himself shall be abased, and he that humbleth himself shall be exalted.—Eighteenth Chapter of Luke. Jesus went unto the Mount of Olives, and early in the morning He came again into the temple, and all the people came unto Him, and He sat down and taught them. And the scribes and Pharisees brought unto Him a woman taken in adultery; and when they had set her in the midst, they said unto Him: Master, this woman was taken in adultery, in the very act. Now Moses in the law commanded us that such should be stoned; but what sayest Thou? This they said, tempting Him, that they might have to accuse Him. But Jesus stooped down, and with His finger wrote on the ground, as though He heard them not. So when they continued asking Him, He lifted up Himself and said unto them, He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her. And again He stooped down and wrote upon the ground. And they which heard it, being convicted by their own conscience, went out one by one, beginning at the eldest, even unto the last; and Jesus was left alone, and the woman standing in the midst. When Jesus had lifted up Himself and saw none but the woman, He said unto her, Woman, where are those thine accusers? Hath no man condemned thee? She said, No man. Lord. And Jesus said unto her, Neither do I condemn thee. Go and sin no more! — Eighth Chapter of John.—N. Y. Sun. If ever you should happen to be in the vicinity of Leadville, Colo., you should not fail to visit Twin Lakes, distant twenty miles from Leadville. The writer was there in the summer ’B4 and spent a few days enjoying the most beautiful natural scenery it has ever been his privilege to behold. The lakes are two small bodies of water clear as crystal, sep arated by a narrow strip of land only wide enough for an ordinary carriage road, and are in no place connected. The larger one of the two is three miles long by two and a half wide. The smaller one being almost a complete circle two miles each way. The peculiar natural grandeur of these little lakes lies in their location and surround ings. As to location, it may be said with strict adherence to truth, that they are sit uated at times in the clouds, having an altitude of nine thousand three hundred and seventy-five feet. Upon the larger lake is a small steamer (“The Idyl Wilde”) for the use of tourists which enjoys the reputa tion of navigating waters in a higher alti tude than any other vessel in the world. Underneath the smooth surface of these lakes is the home of the mountain trout , Talk about trout fishing—well, I won’t spring any fish stories on you lest it might arouse a suspicion of prevarication which would do an injustice to the beautiful spot 1 have tried to describe. Suffice it to say if I didn’t catch many trout 1 ate a good many that the other fellow caught. At the southern extremity of the smaller lake, and near enough to throw his shadow far out in its crystal depths, stands “Old Baldy,” a mountain peak with an altitude of something over thirteen hundred feet, and whose summit is entirely barren of vegetation of any kind, a vast pile of glis tening, shining rock. The stars and stripes wave proudly o’er his crest throwing a pro tecting shade over the home of our national bird, the American Eagle, who build nests far up the side of “Old Baldy” in the crevices. I would like to be able to describe this little work of nature as it deserves, but am unable as every reader of this article must know who has seen Twin Lakes. It must be seen to be appreciated. If the day you are looking for ever comes, go to Twin Lakes, Colo., inhale pure mountain air, drink pure mountain spring water, eat mountain trout, and grow fat. F. H. Calamities that seem insupportable when looked at from a distance, lose half their power if met and resisted with fortitude. — James Fenimore Cooper. Twin Lakes. -> ¥i A