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SHE REALLY CARED And Earle Barton Discovered That He Had a True Life Partner. BY FLORENCE LILLIAN HENDER SON. "Going—going—gone!" The hammer of the auctioneer came down with a final tap. • The man of bids waved his hand towards the cashier's desk. Earle Barton paid four dollars, gave his name and ad dress, received a package wrapped in tissue paper and regained his com panion, Ward Tolman. "Whatever induced you to pay that money for a toy that looked to me like a cross between a baby's rattle and a nutmeg grater?" rallied young Tolman. "Well, in the first place it was odd cheap, and further, it is quite ity," replied Earle, but he did not dis close for whom the purchase was in tended. "What is it, anyhow?" inquired Tol "It is a called a prayer mill. I sup pose that doesn't tell you much, so I'll show it to you." Earle removed the so-called toy from its wrappings. It's form was box-like, with a little ivory handle. There handle showed between two rollers, ribbon was covered with hiero glyphics printed-in gold letters. "The mill came from Thibet," said Earle. "It Is made by the priests in that great city of mystery, Lhassa, a place inhere they visit the intrusion of a stranger with death. The de votee .when he wishes to pray, sim ply turns the mill and his work is done for him." "I see," nodded Tolman carelessly; "but how do you come to know so much about these curios?" Earle flushed deeply and evaded a direct response. He went on to tell that he had a certain liking for tiques. The auctioneer had interested him by narrating the story of a tive priest of Thibet traveling in the United States, who had died in debt and whose effects had been sold to bury the poor fellow. The name of the man was engraved "Zuelphi." The friends parted, Tolman, who had money and position, to attend some social function, Earle, who had a slot across It, and as the turned a silk ribbon This the mill— m ? f m r 7 J U "I'd Starve Before My First Story Was Paid For." very little, to proceed to the nearest express office and send the prayer mill package to Miss Velda Tresham, Then he went to his Maybrook. rather cheerless room where he was making a struggle of life trying to write for the newspapers. Maybrook was the little country town from which Earle had come six Velda Tresham months previous, was the one young lady in that vil lage for whom he entertained a warmer sentiment than she had ever divined. Tolman, making a visit to the city, had come across Earle. Only cäsually had Earle ventured to ask about Velda. He had heard inciden tally that Tolman had been paying some attentions to the young lady, and did not seek a gratuitous heart ache by exploring the intimacy. Earle knew that the erudite Profes sor Tresham, the father of Velda, a great collector of unique odd ities. He had sent the prayer mill to Velda hoping she might write to him: At least It would show that he had not forgotten her. The next day Earle was sorry that he had sent the little gift. He hap pened to meet Tolman. The latter dropped into a.jewelry store and pro duced an exquisite little ring. "I wish you would engrave this for me," he said to the jeweler, and care lessly scribbled on a card: "Ward to Velda." Earle chanced to glance at the in scription ordered. He said nothing about it, but his heart sank like lead. "Velda" To him there was only In the world, and he parted from Tol with the impression that what he had just seen was an engagement ring, and Miss Velda Tresham its prospective recipient. The conviction killed a good deal of the ambition of the young writer. He changed hls room for a cheaper one. Things did not go very * *1 with him. He did not seem able\ j jular publishei. c routine of a k cheerless and I down. A fit Llle was two break in wi« His struck t penny-a-liner, disappointed, of sickness months in the hospital, and came out of it to face the world, a pensioner the bounty of a flne-soujed bohe mian, almost as poor as himself, but glorying in dividing the last cent with a fellow journalist. "Down and out," was the way that Earle put it to himself. If he had only received a word from Velda! She was probably married by this time, he reflected. "Tell you, Barton," his friend and almoner said to him, "you' good for this market. If you could get into the magazine circle now— once a foothold, and you're a made man." But Earle shook his head mourn fully. Hé said with a sad smile: "I'd starve before my first story paid for. No, I'll pound along on the occasional special article Une. I can at least get a half living from that." And then suddenly, by a chance, there awoke experience of this lonely city waif the most extravagant soul of hope. Magically, poverty was gilded and forlorn distress became a fading wraith of the past. A man, a : lawyer, hunted him out after a long quest, he said. Was he Earle Barton? Yes. He lived at such address formerly? Was he the purchaser, on such a date, at such prayer mill? If so, what of it?—it all opened up the old wounds, and Earle was weak and irritable from his long spell -of illness. Was the prayer mill marked "Zuelphi?" It was. Could he produce too i ! I j I I day in the Yes, again. auction shop, of a certain it? The long and short of It was, that the owner of the prayer mill a member of one of the richest, noblest families in Thibet. His rela tives had too late learned of hiB fatal, stranded situation. Now they had dered his remains returned to his native soil—at any expense. The mill must be found—if it took a fortune. It had been in the family for turies. It must be recovered or the family would lose caste, and, accord ing to their superstitious ideas, would lose paradise. Ten thousand dollars was offered for the return of the prayer mill. It at a distance. Then go for it— and expenses advanced. This the gist of the stranger's proposal. The first thing Earle learned when he reached his native town, was that Velda was not married. The next that Ward Tolman had wedded a lady in the next town named Velda Morse. Then Earle Barton realized his error. In an hour he was at the Tresham home. Through an open window he saw, Velda. She was looking at a photograph. Her face grew pale and she trembled as she admitted him to the house. Hç told her of his mis sion. . , "I will get he prayer mill for you," she said, hut in arising her unsteady hand-biutfùèd' ther photograph- to the floor—his own! "Walt," said Earle, a new light shin ing in upon his soul—"why did you never write?" "I did, twice, and no reply, and then—" He drew a step nearer. "You really cared?" he faltered. "Oh, could you doubt it!" she cried, and dropped to a chair and burst into tears, and Earle Barton knew that he had a life partner to share his new fortune. , (Copyright, 1913, by W. G. Chapman.) Boy's Mistake. P. F. Fogarty of the Northern Pa talking in Portland cific railroad about the $10,000*,000 order for new equipment that he has just placed. "The cause of this order, the larg est of its kind on record." he said, "is prosperity. Real prosperity. Not the kind young Husk encountered. "Young Cornelius Husk was about to try his fortune in New York. " 'Now, Corny,' his old grandmoth er said, 'don't desert the narrow path of righteousness when you get to that rich city where money is so plentiful that they say the streets are even paved with gold.' "HuBk promised his grandmother to behave himself, and in due course he reached New York. He got out at the station and. started down Sev enth avenue, when he In the gutter a bright ten-dollar gold piece. "He picked up the coin joyfully, and was about to place it in his purse, when a blind beggar caught W?» eye. of genuine sym.pnthfqjoM'ged through him and ho handed the beg gar his rich find. " 'Here, take it,' he said. T can see 'em, you can't.' "—New York Times, . glittering Owed Recognition to Emperor. Bell had little success at the Phila delphia exhibition, and his invention would have passed unnoticed, had it not been for Dom Pedro, the emperor of Brazil. For the story we indebted to the Revue Scientifique. Dom Pedro was inspecting the exhibi tion, attended by his suite, when he came across Graham Bell, whom he remembered as a teacher in a school of deaf mutes. Dom Pedro came to his stand and asked him to "set his machine going." A wire crossed the room from wall to wall. Dom Pedro stood at the re ceiver and Bell at the transmitter. No one understood exactly what was hap pening, when suddenly the emperor lifted his head dramatically and shouted, in absolute amazement: "He's talking." The scientists in Dorn Pedro's suite rushed to verify this ex traordinary announcement, and "the more they knew of electricity, the less they would believe their next day the newspapers were filled with the news, and the telephone be came famous immediately. *1 j a ." Thé foetal ]ot0 ct/tc/ Jëorïaimcnk I A £2l Living Pictures for/Girls. So many girls have written asking what entertainments they could give to make money for charity, church or Sunday school, and they all want something "without much work"; now, it is imposible to get up things without responsibility and work, but I think "Living Pictures" may be made ready with the minimum of la bor, as there are no parts to be memo rlzed; so I am giving you a series of pictures arranged by Caroline French Benton. Thfey are called "The Girl Student In History." I think you will be much pleased with the production, and the directions are so plain you will have no trouble in following 1 them. 1. —The Hebrew Girl. A large dark girl. Her hair in two long braids; her dress dark crimson, with a full skirt, a rather loose waist, cut slightly round at the neck and with no sleeves, but witlL-the drapery falling over her arms. She sits at a low table, side to the audience, and looks up at a rabbi, a very tall dark man- dressed in flowing robes of deep blue with a border and girdle with ends, a long gray wig and large beard. He holds a roll, its top beginning at his shoul der, its end falling to the floor, made like a narrow map on rollers. This represents the Talmud. (See the pic tures in an illustrated Old Testament.) 2. —Listening To Homer. This is a copy of Alma Tadema's famous pic ture. Have some palms or other foliage at the back of the stage and a very long, white painted bench across this. At one end sits a dark, smooth-shaven young man bending forward with arm on knee, dressed In a thick tunic with a border, hold ing a roll; one arm is on the back of the bench. Two girls sit opposite listening to him. They are dressed In white tunics over full skirts. The tunics are cut round at the neck and fastened at the shoulders with clasps. They should wear their hair parted, with a Psyche knot; gilt ribbons are wound around the head. 3. —TJie Children of Alfred The Great. Alfred had a son and daugh ter whom he educated carefully. The girl may sit on a low stool, with a huge parchment book opsnjpji.ivistfew' stool In front. The boy stands at the back, facing the audience, looking dovfn at her. She wears a dress made much like the one described of e. Showing the Pantaloon Style Paris Would Make Popular sip i ■ *1 i i 1 i ■; ; m w ■ f -i •V V : 77;' v' V ia: . N \ 1 § m 1 r 1 Si ; j j i Fli iij N -V i ■ [ : -7: A gown of ruby-colored\ velvet trimmed with beads, fur and liberty satin the same shade. The\skirt shows the pantaldon style. 1 ; A \ < just above, but with the tunic belted In loosely, and long sleeves, tightly iltted; her blond hair is parted and braided in two long braids, and on her head is a little white cap, like a baker's, with a band of white passing under her chin. Have her gown of a medium shade of blue. The boy wears a short, full gray tunic reaching only to the knee; his bare legs are strapped with colored tape, in large diagonals; he wears sandals. His tunic has long sleeves; his head is bare; his blond hair cut straight across his forehead and at the back of the neck (a wig is really neces sary). Have the stage lighted with very tall candles in tall dark hold ers. 4.—Marguerite of Navarre. Three young women sit about the room broidering; spare frames covered with some tapeBtry chair-covering may rest on music stands made rather low. They wear dresses of soft colors made perfectly plain, with long tight ly-fitted sleeves; their hair is flowing; on their heads are, first, short veils, then tall, pointed r*£T" ored- paper, from ^ which hangs a very IlghtTlttle tulle veil. These caps should be about two feet high and worn so that they point backward. Marguerite wears a violet-colored dress exactly like the rest, but with a long mantle fastened at the shoulders with clasps; this is of dark velvet or brocade, with a rich border made by sewing Her dress, like the rest, has square neck, but hers has a rich bor der here, also. On her head is, first, a very short thin veil, then a gilt crown with little clover leaves stand ing up. A white band passes under her chin, fastening it on. She holds a great book, one half falling down to show that it is illuminated (this is done by washing in some large letters In color). The room should have low benches with pillows, and a chair or two with fur rugs thrown over them. 6.—Lady Jane Grey. Have a large light window frame made, long and low, with two casements opening out. Simulate glass in leaded panes in these by tacking on tapes at top and bottom. Put up this window at the back of the stage, with some green outside to hide the curtains, and make a window seat beneath with pillows. Lady Jane sits here, with books about her, looking out. She wears a soft, full gray dress with long, tight sleeves. The neck of the dress is cut very low, down to the shoulders, and à white tucker is put inside nearly to the neck line. Embroidery turns back at the edge of the gown and the wrists. Her hair is drawn back with out parting and a small, close-fitting cap edged with pearls is worn. If you choose to have two figures in the picture, the Bishop of London, her tutor, may be added, at a desk. MADAME MERRI. as a Ided Col each of as u j tinsel. small Bengaline Is Worn. Bengali ne is a silk fabric that has thick,, threads or co^ds, at intervals from selvage to selvage. Frequently the cord is of the wool covered with silk and in this season the two-tone effects are popular. Intomtional SUNMfSCIM Lesson (By E. O. SELLERS, Director of Eve ning Department The Moody Bible In stitute of Chicago.) LESSON FOR MARCH 2 GOD'S COVENANT WITH ABRAM LESSON TEXT—Gen. 15:5-18. GOLDEN TEXT—"He ia faithful that promised."— Heb. 10:23. Until within recent years it was fre-> quently asserted that ADrim s battle, as recorded in Gen. 14, 4 had not one ; whit of proof,' yet the archaeologists j have not only reconciled the apparent discrepancies but have proven beyond a question the accuracy of the rec ord. Abram's victory over the four confederate kings is a story rich with typical suggestions. 1-7. fulfilling the promise of to include Sarah also, I. "After These Things." God's word (v. 1) came to Abram not only as a counsel but for assurance as well. So, too, our assurance is his word, I John 5:13. In the midst of the uncertainty and the strife, for we must remember Abram never pos sessed the land, God appeared to him In a vision and said, "Fear not." See Isa. 41:10. There in the midst of foes (Jas. 2:23) God promised to he to Abram a shield and great reward. A "shield" for there is to the Christian life a militant side, Eph. 6:13, 14, I Tim. 6:12. A "re far more rich than . See 14:21, Prov. eue ding ward" which any given by 10 : 22 . Abram Was Human. , after all, human, read In verse 2 his question But Abram and about descendants, he being as yet childless. Even so, however, Abram was willing to count the child of his steward God. Not so with God for the prom ise (12:3) God very clearly makes this plain in verse 4, the heir was to be Abram's indeed and not the child of another. But not only is Abram to have an heir but the land In which he was so journing as a pilgrim was to be his and his seed to be as the stars for multitude. "And he believed.'' The great test to this faith came later. Heb. 11:19, but here in this first distinct scrip tural history of faith we find set forth those principles that have governed through all time. (1) The acceptance of the word of God, e. g., to have our supported by the Isa. 30:21; (2) trust built upon word of Jehovah, to act upon that faith so that course in life manifests the belief of the hbart; ~ * — ' God's covenant, 12:1-4, is confirmed in seven ways, 1, Posterity, (a) nat ural, "earth," (b) spiritual, "heaven," (c) also through Ishmael, Gen. 17:18 20: 2, Blessing, both temporal and spiritual; 3, great name; 4, Be a bless ing, Gal. 3:1?, 14; 5, "1 will bless them that bless thee;" 6, "and curse them that curse thee; 7, the families of the earth blessed through Abram, e. g., through Christ, Gal. 3:f6. "And he believed In the Lord" (v. 6). Abram built upon the naked word of God, he simply looked at that and that alone, Rom. 4:20, R. V. All God asks of us is for us to take him at his word. So it is that word about Jesus, he Teckons that faith to ter how unrighteous we may hi been, see Rom. 4:3-6; Gal. 3:6-7. T\ one think that God. demands is th\ believe him and his word. II. "Whereby Shall I Know." w. 8-18. The weakness of human faith in dicated by Abram's question (v 8) is answered by God giving to him direc tions for the preparation of a sacri fice. Abram did not really doubt God's word (v. 6), but he did desire a confirming sign. Many today are looking for assuring signs from God when his bare word should be enough. Asking for signs is not always safe, Luke 1:18-20, but God does give us a pledge a sign of our inheritance, 2 Cor. 1:22, Eph. 1:14. God gave Abram, after he had explic itly followed his directions, a sym bolic vision of himself. Someone has suggested that the vile birds of prey (v. 11) are symbolic of Satan, and Abram, driving them away, a symbol of one victory God is always nearer to man and best reveals himself when midst of sacrifice. God tells Abram of those days of servitude of his descendants while they are to .be in Egypt, of God's Judgment to he brought upon that land and of their ultimate deliverance. Symbols of God. Every detail of these predictions ■and promises was fulfilled. In verse 15 theje is presented the great thought of the need of preparation In youth for the future days of "good •old age"—also In this verse a sugges tion of the life beyond the grave. The smoking furnace and the flam ing torch were symbols of God him self. Four centuries of opportunity were to be allowed the powerful Amo rites who now possessed the land be fore the land came into bona-fide pos session in accordance with the prom ise, for God's judgment was condition ed upon the "measure of their iniquity bejng full." In the midst of this hor ror of darkness came God's final as surance to Abram in the symbolic "flaming torch" which passed be tween the pieces of the slain animals typical of the two parties to the con tract we take his righteousness; no mafc in Abram's case evil, Jas. 4:7. in the the part REVEALS HIS GLORY < FACE OF JESUS CHRIST SPEAK8 DIRECTLY TO THE HEART OF MAN IN ALL SITUATIONS. T is said that one day Tennyson with a friend stopped to look at some pictures in a win dow the poet I the Strand, the friend, knowing Tennyson's admiration for Dante, asked him what there. Dante's face that lacking in instan Goethe's. taneouB: So the face of Jesus Christ speaks directly to the heart of man every where—to Pilate at the trial, moved and awed by the wondrous personality. The answer "The divine." before hlm> t0 the poe t, to the artist, to the toiler, to the very heathen bound in ca8 te and pantheism and depravity, tü], catching the light from the face of Jesus, he is constrained, to defend Hinduism, to speak in rever ence and awe of "that great Christ." How wonderful is sunlight, the glory of the natural world. Niagara has not beauty in the dark, but the Bun makes its iridescent beauty the praise of all beholders. How splendid is the light of intel lect. How like the Shakespeare, a Goethe, a Plato. But matchless in glory and perfect in beauty is the light of love—beaming in a mother's face, gleaming from a martyr's eye, shining from the ever radiant face of Jesus Christ. Eternal Lovelight. God pours his lovelight upon the world from the face of Jesus Christ He, the man Christ Jesus, 1 b the me diator, the conductor of the lovelight from the heart of the Eternal to this poor dark world. The heart of mankind, lost and fearful as the babes in the wood, trembling and shuddering- In the cold and dark, is ever praying with Newman: "Lead, kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom," and God is ever answering through the face of Jesus Christ, the Light of the world, No man could endure to see God di rectly, any more than one could gaze at the blazing sun without eyelids. God must be revealed, therefore, through a medium. "There shall no man look upon my face and live." The universe reveals him indeed, but it veils him, too. In Jesus Christ God reveals hla glory tempered to our human face. Man's heart hungers for something In God akin to itself, something of our own weakness, something ap proachable and endurable. The world is not satisfied lesB than God; it must ha we the best.-Ae Augustine cried: "Thgfa hast made for thyself, and till It rest In th^." Cold Intellec tual ism, or mammpnlsm with its ease and luxury, can /only go so far. So the ancient world found at the pin nacle of its splendor and its wanton ■aton-.- --- --•*- - -TV^" " Men mußt find God ere th/4lr hearts have peace. And we find him in the face of Jesus Christ, with his great warm pity and undying love. A love that indeed illumines the Intellect and throughout Christendom shines deeper than the brain. "God hath shined in our hearts." True religion reaches the afTections. It is the holy flame upon the altar of the heart that lights the brain of Christendom. shines a eart is restless Glory of God Everywhere. See the glory of God in the baby face in Bethlehem's manger, with the magi and the shepherds bending near; more glory than In all the purple and gold and the tread of armies and the fanfare of pride at an imperial coro nation. It was the glory of lowliness which Is the uttermost glory of God himBelf. So the angels, familiar with the humbleness of the great God al mighty, saw his image and the bright ness of his glory in Bethlehem, and a multitude of the armies of heaven came to celebrate it in the earB of the lowly, while the proud and the rich were deaf to the resounding heavens. In nature are revealed the 6 nal power and divinity of the Godheay it love is concealed The God of nature roars in the peal ing of the thunder and the howling of the storm and the raging of the sea. He smiles in the lightning's flash, and shrivels the verdure of earth with the the scorching wind. but dimly Sv. flaming sun Men fear and dread this awful God. The heathen stand in awe of him and seek to appease him. It is only in the gospel, in the face of Jesus Christ, learn that—"Love rides upon the stormy sky—not wrath nor chance destiny—and death must yield to love." Our Daily Life, daily companionship with Christ should be the saving power of all our living. If begin the day in with him it will strengthen us prayer for the day's tasks and temptations and hard places. If uult his words of life they will go with us, sweetening all the day and making tender and compassionate our hearts beside setting the tone of all transactions. Above all, true panionship with him is to look at aB and all problems through hii 'V^yes, take hls attitude toward life} This is to have the mind of Christ. Christ is manifested to the world not through sermons, but by the dally wit ness In our lives. When Christians all Christlike the world may not accept him, but it will know him he is. When he is thus shown forth he may draw all men to himself. every day con men Infidelity. Agnosticism is the passing form of the old Infidelity as the race is swept to an intelligent and abiding pos session of the eternal things.—Rev. P. A. Simpkin, Congregatlonallst, Salt Lake City, Utah.