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HUMOR IN *nrXT OF CLESKIY.
▲ maaing Remark* Whirl* Were Mon
Sti u>ii»l> Intended.
Part of the burner which one occa*
■tonally meet* 1 frith, erven tv the »wdat«
inclosure of the pulpit, Is due to th«
queer text* which ore sometimes-—of*
ten unconsciously—chosen by preach-
I'm No doubt there are many storii*
told under this bead which owe their
urigln not to actual fact so much a»
to the Invention of- the vrag. For ex
ample, a minister on Che Sunday bo
lon his marriage Is said to have cho»
en as his text, "And he went on his
way rejoicing," and on the Sunday
after his honeymoon to have eloquent
ly discoursed on the word*. "Uttinembel
These Instances are, probably, apoc
ryphal, but the following art true and
have all come within Bj«* experience of
the writer. It was in :iie uortb of En
gland that the first Incident happened'
It was a country church where ol
lamps were used Instead of gas. On<
night In the late summer when the
lamps had not yet been rammed after
the long days it got suddenly overcast
and before the sermon it was deemet
necessary to light the pulpit lamp
During the hymn, the old sexton re
paired to the pulpit, and, having eU'ftned
the glass chimney witJL it duS^K 1, lit i*
up, but only a feeble Itght struggle*}
through. And then the clergyman tools
his text, which was this: "And uo\»
we see through a glass darkly."
A few years ago a well known bishop
married his second wife, and, return?
in;; borne lifter bis bweymoon, an
nounoed a series of sermons, the titii
of Uio series being "iiie Penitent's Re
turn.' Thi* was obviously unlnten
There Is a church in one of our larg*
Cities Which boasts of a very high puj
pit. A short time ago a strange preach)
er wln> was of a nervous temperameirf
"occupied" Uiis pulpit, but, as the so
quel will show, only for a very shor,"
time, for, baring tinken his text nn(
said aiwiit a dozen words, he startled
the congregation by saying: "As i an
not Used to pulpits as high as this you
will pardon me, I know, if I come
down and preach my sermon from thfl
lectern." He suited his action to the
words and preached a very good ser
mon from the modest lectern. And
this was his strangely appropriate text:
"He that exaltetb himself shall bo
abused, and he that hitr.ibleth himself
shall be exalted."
One more instance: Not man.v
months ago a clergyman preached one
Sunday evening from the text, "My
words shall not pa.ss away." Exactly
a fortnight later the same clergyman
preached the same sermon from tin
same text in the same church, to tlu
wonderment of practically the same
congregation. Evidently it was his
determination that at any rate htr
words should no! pass away from tlie
memory of his hearers.
A SUCCESSFUL DIPLOMAT.
Our Minister to Japan Ha* Had it
When an American representative 1?
a foreign land is praised by the ml*
■ionaries laboring (here, it may bi
takea for granted
that. he- is doing hi*
full duty in iho
place which be
lills. High among
this class of faith
ful and callable of
tlcials Is to b#
ranked Lloyd Car*
l> c n te r Grlscorn,
oti r minister to
Japan, The latest
report of the Japan
!U.oyd C. griscom. mission to th*
American Board says; "Our American
diplomacy in the East, and especially
in Japan, has generally been on tin)
highest plane, and It hue won the com
plete confidence of the whole nation
Mr. Griscom Is keeping up the old tra
ditions, and Is already accepted as t
statesman of experience and large abiV
ity." The man thus commended Is the
youngest of our diplomatic represents
tives abroad, but he has had a caxeei
that has well fitted him for his post
Born In New Jersey, Mir. (Jrisoom be
came successively secretary to Mr.
Bayard, our first ambassador to Eng
land; deputy district attorney of New-
York City; a volunteer In the Spanish
American war; secretary of the Ameri
can legation and charge d'affaii-s at
Constantinople, and eavoy extraor
dinary and minister plenipotentiary to
Persia. lie has been in Japan since
1902. In Turkey and Persia Mr. Grl»
com rendered Important service to thi
missionaries, «-nd nt his receptions i»
Tokyo they may often be seen amonj
Oldest Tree in the World.
It Is said that the oldest tree in th»
world Is a bo tree at Adnuradhapurt^
Ceylon, whl«t was planted close to i
Buddhist slErtne in 245 B. C. and V
therefore 2,148 years old. Legend hat
It that this tree sprang from a branch
Which severed Itself by mlraculoui
power from the sacred tree under
'which Gautama became Buddha, thf
There are too many people ob a
Hake<l Api>le UiiinplinKa.
Take a quart of flour and work Into
It a spoonful each of butter and lard.
Wet it with a pint of buttermilk con
tainlng a spoonful of soda; roll out
and cut out circular pieces, using a
saucer to detenuine the size. Have
ready some pleasant sour apples and
place as many of the slices upon one
half of the crust as the other will
cover; wet the edges and press them
together, I'lace the dumplings In a
bakinj; tin as soon as prepared, prick
them with a fork and bake until the
apple Is cooked. Serve with a hot
MUCe, or sweetened and flavored
Turn one fourth of a cup of sugar
into a Ktewpan, and stir it over the
fire until it becomes liquid and brown.
Scald a Cttp and a half of milk, and
adii the browned sugar. Heat two eggs
thoroughly, add to them one half cup
ful of cold milk, and turn the mixture
slowly, stirring constantly that no
lumps form, into the scalding milk.
Continue to stir until the custard
thickens. Set away to cool and serve
How to Roast Green Corn.
To properly roast green corn, re
move all the husks, rub the ears with
butter, and season with pepper and
salt. Then lay the ears, side by side
in a flat pan a dripping pan will do
—and put Into a very hot oven. Oc
casionally change the ears In the pan
and turn thpin over, so that they will
brown evenly. When sufficiently browu
they must be served at once.
Sot a gpouge over night, as for white
bread, and in the morning work into
It two cups of slightly salted wheat
flour and two cups of oatmeal, with
a sponoful of molasses. Knead
long and hard, and set to rise. When
very light, make into loaves and set
In a warm place for an hour or until
light. Bake In a steady oven. Cover
with paper the tirst half hour.
Citron Cheese Cuke*.
801 l near a quart, of cream; when
cold add the yolks of four eggs, well
beaten; boil this to a curd; blanch and
beat two ounces of almonds, about half ■
a dozen bitter; beat them with a little
rose water; put all together, with three
or four Naples biscuits, some citron
shredded fine; sugar to taste; pull
Slice a gallon of unpeeled green to
matoes and six large onions and mix.
Stir Into these a quart of vinegar, a
cup of brown sugar, tablespoon each
of salt, pepper and mustard seed, a
half tablespoon each of ground all
spice and cloves. Stew all until tho
tomatoes are very tender, put into
glass jars and seal.
For seven pounds of plums take
three and one-half pounds of brown
sugar, one pint of vinegar, one ounce
each of cloves, allspice and mace, and
two ounces of cinnamon, putting the
npice in a thhi muilln bag. Cook slow
ly until the Juice is a thick sirup.
Pulp ami boil the grapes until the
seeds loospb. Bun through a sieve,
boll half of the skins In a very llttlo
water, put pulp and the boiled skins
together, and for every pint of grape
add a pound of sugar. Boil the whole
for fifteen minutes.
Into a cup of cold boiled rice beat
a quart of milk, three beaten eggs, a
tablespoonful of shortening and enough
prepare*! flour to make a soft batter.
Pour Into greased muffin tins and bake
la a quick oren. Serve at once.
Cottage Cheese Sandwiches.
Rub cottage cheese smooth with a
little cream and to every cupful of it
add a tablespoonful of minced chives.
Mix well and spread between thin
slices of buttered, crustless white
Allow half a pound of good brown
sugar to every pound of fruit; boil the
whole together gently for an hour, or
till the blackberries are soft, stirring
and mashing them well. Put in small
Jars and tie down.
Canoed st ring Beans.
String both aides of the beans. 801 l
until tender In salted water, pack in
Jar*, boil up th« liquid and nil the Jars
to overflowing, sealing immediately.
Rnsseatlona for the Honaewtf*.
Rub all rusty places on iron with
In purchasing tinned goods always
look whether the head of the tin Is
coneavw, a bulging appearance being
Indicative 1 decomposition.
goui?d by a Spell
Mr. Montgomery did not evince at
the news the pleasure or the excitement
that I expected; but a quiet urnile of
malignant satisfaction stole over his
face. He merely remarked, "Then the
K<v. Mr. Porter will have a visitor mxt
Sunday that he little expects. Let me
Bee." DlU*ed the Professor. "Bury St.
Edmund*. I can take the early train
on Sunday morning, and get back at
night. I ■hall have plenty of time to
ilo my business, and his, too."
"What do you mean to do?" asked
"Never you mind; I will toll you all
about it when I get back."
"Oh, what a jolly revenge it will bo,
for nil he made us suffer, to bowl the
old hypocrite out so clean!" cried Joaiah,
gleefully. "You can give mine and
Silas' compliment*- "
"No, no; for heaven's sake, do not
mention my name in any way! 1' 1 ex
"Why not?" asked Mr. Montgomery,
turning sharply round nnd casting upon
me <>ne of his old scrutinizing glances.
"Because —because " I could not
(five a reason. "Oh, please to promise
that you will not speak of me!" 1 plead
He did promise. But, somehow. I put
very little faith in his keeping his word.
"When I was at old Brown's, the
printer's," said Josiah, "I heard n Rood
many things about our reverend pastor,
who was not in very good odor, except
among hi.s own sect, in spite of his Stinc
tlmoniousness. When he first came into
the town, he was an open nir preacher,
with no chapel or congregation; but he
managed to ingratiate himself into the
pood graces of n bevy of oil women;
and upon the death of the minister of
Little Bethlehem, which happened aliout
the same time, the elders or deacons, or
whatever they call themselves, of the
chapel got him appointed. So he sit
himself up nan converted cobbler; nnd.
as converted reprobates of nil kinds were
the rage just then, ho dropped into a tidy
'Vhile wo wore yet talking, old Mr.
Jennings oomp downstniri to go to his
morning's work. We had sat up the
whole night. It was just 5 o'clock.
Spite of my new anxieties, I fell asleep
the moment nay head touched the pillow,
nnd woke about five hours afterwards.
Manha had a good laugh at my misera
Me looks when I wont in to breakfast.
Neither Mr. Montgomery nor Josiah ap
peared until much Inter. They took n
newspaper between them and discussed
it over their breakfast. While "the I'ro
fesßor" w.is languidly spanning the ad
vertisement sheet, he suddenly tittered
nn exclamation of surprise, and read j
somethiug with keen attention.
".lust cast, your eye over that," he
said, banding me the sheet, and pointing
with his finger to a particular advertise
ment With tin- utmost dismay, I rvad
"Absconded, from Tabernacle House,
ncai I'iiiry St. Edmund, a young man,
nineteen years of age, about five feet
nine in height, slightly built, lone, d.irk
hair and dark eyes, small features, \ < ry
pale complexion. Whoever will send In
formation that will lead to the appre
hension of the same to the Rev. Mr.
Porter shall he handsomely rewarded.
N. B. —Should this mccl his eye, no fur
ther prf>o('eilinLrs will he taken agflinst
him if he at once returns; but should
he be apprehended, he will be proceeded
against on a grave charge. The police
are on his track."
The newspaper dropped from my hand
and 1 thought I should have fainted.
Martha was »»1 > 1 i^r*^< 1 to bathe my face
with cold water to recover me. Thin
little scene was not lost to the sharp
I 1)fs of Mr. Montgomery. 1 saw him
quietly noting it, but he made no re
mark. Josinh began to hector, and beast
what he would do if he were in my
I was to ho* Clara in the afternoon;
and, for the first time, I felt loth to
meet her. That advertisement roused dp
a train of painful thoughts. Whnt was
I doing?—feeding a innd love for one
woman, while another could claim me
as her husband! How could it all end,
but in misery? If Clara should learn
to love me, and then discover all, whut
a monster she would think me!
In the face of such impending dan
ger, hut one course was open to me: to
see her for the laßt time, bid her ndieu,
and then fly from her forever. Yes: I
would do it, if my heart broke in the ct
fort. I called In at Martha's as I passed
by for something I had left there, Mr.
Montgomery proposed to bear me com
pany as fur as our roods lay together.
"Don't you make yourself uneasy
about that advertisement," he said, as
we walked along. "It is half gas; es
pecially that part about the police. He
must set some value upon you to make
this fuss. There's something more in
this than you know of, or choose to tell,"
he added, with a sharp look. "I know
Bill Stokes so well; be wouldn't take all
this trouble without some very good
reason. But, as I said before, don't
frighten yourself. It is more than like
ly, before this day week, that he may be
advertised for as 'absconded.' "
Had I looked through the newspaper
that morning, I should har* seen two
other advertisements that concerned roe
equally with the one I did read. One
"If the young man named S
C , who left T House, near
B St E , on the 81st of August
last, will communicate with Messrs. Fo
gle & Quick, solicitor*. Gray's Inn, he
will hear Boraething to his advantage."
This advertisement, which had been
inserted for three consecutive days pre
viously, was observed by Mr. Montgom
ery for the first time that morning, and
not pointed out to me, for certain rea
sons of his own.
The second was couched in these
"Should this meet the eye of the
young man who deposited a suit of
clothes with the owner of Hose Cottage,
Blopperton, he will oblige by at once
sending to. or calling personally upon,
J. EL, Morley'g Hotel, TraiuUar
This last, if observed by Mr. Mont*
gomery, conveyed no meaning to him, ns
1 had told the episode, to which it re
ferred, only to Martha.
Had I seen and attended to those ad
vertisements, how different might have
been the catastrophe of this story!
I was strong in brave resolves when I
knocked at the door of the little house.
But they were sadly shaken the moment
it was opened by Clara herself. The
sight of her sweet fare, smiling upon
me, cowed my bravery. "Have 1 come
here to look upon her for the last time
—to bid adieu to that smile forever?" I
asked myself; and my heart sank, but it
gave no response.
"We are all alone," she said, as we
went into the parlor. "Mary is out, and
so is Mrs. Wilson, wonderful to say."
She was working hard at her paint
ing, as usual. 1 sat down upon a foot-
Stool at her feet, and gazed furtively
HP at her face. Never, methought, had
she looked so lovely as she did that moru
ing, in the soft, hazy, aurumi sunlight.
Half an hour passed away, and we
had not exchanged half a do/en words;
but that was not at all uncommon, tor
I loved better to gaze and dream than to
talk; and when at her work, she spoke
but little. She. dropped one of her
brushes; nnd as I gave it to her, I held
her hand for a moment fast looked in
mine. When she looked down at me
smilingly and saw me in tears, a look
of concern cnm« across her countenance.
"Would it make you very unhappy if
I were to tell you that you might never
see me again after this day?" I spoke
in n low, choked voice, and the gathered
tears l>urst forth from my eyelids, end
fell upon her hand.
She did not appear to comprehend my
words, us she saked, in n tone of trou
bled wonder. "What do you mean?"
1 repeated my question, in n yet more
trembling tone. 1 felt her hand more
passive In mine, and her eyes Iroop'-d,
and the carnation tinge deepened In her
cheeks, as she answered, softly, "It
would make me very unhappy to think
"Listen to me," I cried, kneeling at
hei feet, and clasping both her hands
in mine. "From the time of our meet
ing, live years ago, I aye loved you; from
the time of our meeting a, few weeks
back 1 have adored you! Oh, tell me,
do you love me? Answer me hut one
word, my darling, my love"' 1 cried
She raised her eyes for a moment to
mine, and then dropped them, with her
cheek as crimson as my own, "I do
love yon, dearest —very much," she an
swered, in her low, soft voice.
1 took her in my arms, and kissed her
fervently; and her sweet, blushing face
nestled upon my bosom like a bird seek
in),' fur shelter.
Where were my resolutions now? —■
my heroic self-sacrifice, my stoicism?
Melted gone—disappeared like snow be
fore a fire, in the fervid ecstacy of that
moment. I had come to pronounce an
eternal farewell; I stayed to pronounce
ai. inward oath that I would sweep
away every obstacle, and win her yet
for my own undisputed prize in the face
of the whole world. •
After a time we sat together near the
window —I with my nnn around her
waist, and her hand clasped in mine.
And thus we sat, silent—she, in one of
her dreamy reveries; I, tilled with gloomy
forebodings. For, now that the first
ecstacy was passed—now I knew that
her love was mine—the unnatural excite
ment of my brain subsided, the tension
of my nerves relaxed, and the misera
ble rashness of what I had done was
revealed to me in the gloomiest colors.
I had sealed her misery, and increased
my own tenfold.
"Do you not think," she said, sudden
ly, "that we are very strange people,
you and I? I mean, that we are very
unlike other people?"
"I have often thought so," I said.
"Do you not fancy the rest of the
world would think us very silly people?
Now, you do not even know my name."
"But you know nothing of me, so we
are well paired. I know but little my
self, but that you shall know."
"Not now, please, dear. Some day
when I am very brave, I will tell you all
Immediately afterwards, Mrs. Wilson
returned, looking very cross. "I never
did know such a gossiping creature as
that servant next door—always talking
to men. too. I don't know, I am mire.
what her mistress is about to keep her
There she is, talking now to some
strange, queer-looking man; and I am
sure sh« is talking about us, for I saw
him point to this house, and then he
said something, and sh« laughed; she
had better not laugh at my house
won t put up with her impudence " '
A strange man pointing to the house!
U hat was there in such a commonplace
cuvumstanc. to trouble me? But it did!
11 went to the window, but he «v a a no T
visible from there. I went to _h e <j Oo j^
both he find the servant h:nl disn ppeaved*
I come in again and asked what the nian
"Oh, I don't know. I never notice
such people. A foreign-looking felj,, w
with long hnir," win? answered, hullily '
Foreign looking, nnd long hair: Such
n description would apply to Mr. Mont
gomery. Could he have followed u , e 7
And If he had, why should tlmt dis«'on.
cert me? He could not possibly have
| any motive beyond idle curiosity. Jy ev .
ertheless, I could not reason myself out
of a certain uneasiness respecting this
strange man. (
Mrs. Wilson flld not reoover the seren
ity of her temper until after tea. In the
j course of conversation 1 mentioned that
: I had visited a theater on the previous
night They did not know of my con
nection with the stage.
"I have never beet) to a theater but
twice in my life, nnd then only when I
j waa a little child, to see the panto
mimes," said Clara. "I thought it, then,
the most glorious place 1 had ever seen;
I wonder what I should think of it now?
Oh, I should SO much like to go."
So it was arranged that we should go
on .Monday night. Clara was delighted
at the thought, and talked about noth
ing else; and so the evening glided pleas
antly along until it was time for me to
Clara came to the door with mo, nnd
we stocxl for a few minutes upon the
step, looking up Bt the clear, frosty sky,
glittering with stars. I took her in my
aims, kissed her, and wished her good
night 1 lingered for a few moments
after she had closed the door, as though
loth to quit the spot. I gazed at the
i house, nnd thought of the many happy
i days I hud spent in it—of the one that
was just past —the happiest, and jet the
most miserable of all.
Was there no presentiment mingled
with this melancholy, that the end of all
this had come? Darker nnd darker,
closer and closer, gather the shadows
round me. I must linger no longer upon
; the road. Events are hastening thick
nnd fast; and I have much to tell ere I
shall leave them behind, and reach tho
On the Saturday morning following
the day with which I closed the Inst
chapter, as the church clock was strik
ing twelve. Mr. Montgomery, brushed up
and cleaned up with unusual care, might
have been seen ascending the dingy stair
case that le<i to the offices of Messrs.
Fcgle & Quick. Gray's Inn.
Presenting himself in the clerk's office,
ho Inquired if either of the principals
was disengaged. As it happened, both
were disengaged. His name was taken
in. and immediately afterwards the mes
senger came Lack to announce tliat
Messrs. Fogle & Quick would see him.
He was ushered Into an inner room,
where he fouud himself in the presence
of tu-n dry, taciturn-looking gentlemen
of some titty to sixty years of age. Mr.
Montgomery placed himnelf In such a
position that no ray of light should fall
upon his face. His voice, too, would
have sounded strange, feigned, in the
eara of those familiar wiih its csua]
Mr. Fogle demanded his business in
the tone of a man with whom time li
money, while .Mr. Quick continued his
examination of a box of deeds, after
casting one rapid glance .-it the visitor.
Mr. Montgomery's answer was to pro
due- a copy of the previous day's newt
pnper from his j ket, and point to aa
advertisement which has been already
copied into these pages, lie was po
lite in his manner, although very sparing
of his Bpeech.
"But yon are not Silas Carston," said
Mr. Fogle, sharply.
"I run not; hut 1 am his representa
tive." mumbled Mr. Montgomery, with
"Have you his written authority to
There was the slightest shadow of
hesitation In Mr. Montgomery's manner
us he produced from his pocketbook a
paper purporting to he written by Silas
Carston, giving him, the bearer, full
power to act as his, the said Silas Cara
ton's, representative in respect to any
communication that Messrs. Fogle A
Quick may have to make. The lawyer
minutely scrutinized the document, mid
then the bearer. Neither seemed to
inspire him with profound confidence.
"How do we know that Silas CarstOß
has written this?" he asked, suspicious
ly. "Why does not Silas Canton coiuo
here himself? Where Is he now?"
"He cannot come himself. Your sec
oud question, I profoundly regret to say,
I cannot answer. I hnve promised my
friend Canton not to do t>o."
Mr. Fogle passed the paper to Mr.
Quick, who also minutely examined it,
shook his head, and turned again to his
document box without uttering a word.
"We are not satisfied with your au
thority, and decline giving you any in
formation. Mr. Canton must come him
self." said Mr. Fogle, curtly.
"Then I presume you will return me
"Certainly not; we shall retain it, «nd
hand it over to Mr. Carston when we
The Professor was posed, but he was
too practiced a dissembler to betray it
by any outward sign, for the lawyer's
eye was upon him.
There was a whispered conference for
a moment between the two partners.
Then Mr. Fogle said, "Stay! We will
give you our client's address, under
whose instructions we are acting. She
can use her own discretion as to whether
she pleases to transact business with
you. We thus relieve ourselves of all
responsibility either way."
(To (>• continued.•
Give, and you may keep your friend
If you lose your money; lend, and the
chances are that you lose your friend
If ever you get back your money.—Bui-