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PROTESTANT SISTER WORKERS "WHOSE WHOLE LIFE IS A LENTEN SEASON OF SERV i VICE. THEIR LIVES AND WORKS. TIIE COMMUNITY OF ST. ' MARY REPRESENTATIVE OF THESE ORDERS. INCREASING RAPIDLY IN SIZE. Efforts Are Made to Rents-lot Its Mem ber, to Those Best Prepared for the Work. Lent is the season when the Chris tian world gives itself up with more or less fervor to its spiritual devotions, and asks itself, "What is my duty to ward my neighbor? l ' - There is a class of workers in the world whose whole, life is a'Lanten season in its best sense, in that it is entirely given up to spiritual devotions and doing its duty toward its neigh bor. The parish, hospital and school work done by the Protestant sister hoods is but little known, although they are most devoted and efficient la borers. wherever they are to be found. There are several sisterhoods in New (York, varying according to the purpose TROUSER SKIRT COSTUME, IX STITCHED BLUE SERGE, BY CREED. for which they were founded. The first 'American sisterhood was founded in New York some thirty years ago. This is the Community of St. Mary, which had Its origin in the Church of the Holy Communion, Sixth avenue and Twentieth street, which is well known as a pioneer in important movements in the Episcopal church. Mother Har riet Cannon, the present mother supe rior of the order, was its founder. She was one of a little band of five women who, in 1863, expressed their desire to the bishop of the diocese to devote their lives to religious work. They were first given the charge of the House of Mercy in New York, where girls from the street were taken to be reformed. The bishop and sev eral prominent churchmen, in the meantime, considered the advisability of establishing a sisterhood in the church. The report was favorable, and in 1865 the sisters were openly pro fessed, according to a form of. service prepared by the bishop for the occa sion. The committee considering the for mation of the order had recommended that the sisters choose a name for themselves, draw up a code of rules for their organization, and that a chap lain be appointed for the order. It also recommended that the work of the sis ters include "all the corporal and spir itual works of mercy which a woman may perform, and that she be devoted to the sick and needy, and to the work of educating the young." All this and more was incorporated in the charter of the sisterhood. The first chaplain of the organization was the Rev Dr. Dix, now the rector of Trinity church. The vows of the sisters are not tak en lightly. They are for life, and, as ln monastic orders, art: the vows of poverty, chastity and obedience, which are literally fulfilled. The order is gov erned by a chapter composed of the professed sisters, who meet annually. At these meetings new members are admitted, if, having served a two and a half years' novitiate, they receive a two-thirds vote of the chapter. They are then professed by the bishop, take the ring with which they are conse crated to their life work, and assume the full habit of the order. The ring, which is of plain gold, is worn upon the fourth finger of the right hand. The habit is of black merino, plain and straight, the fullness of the skirt formed by the box plaits, which fall from the shoulders in the back and front. : The habit is - secured at the waist by a girdle of black cord. There are long, wide sleeves, falling over the close-fitting ones underneath. The plain linen collar, which is round in the back, forms a deep square in front. The full, White linen of the head dress 'is gath ered closely around the face, and the wings of the cap turn back over it. .The beautiful annunciation lily, the emblem of the order, appears in silver upon a black cross, which is worn around the neck upon a black cord. The habit of the novice is similar, only modified somewhat in detail. It is as sumed after the first six months of the novitiate has been served. The mother house of the order is at Peekskill, where the novitiates are re ceived and prepared for their life in the community. A large plot of ground Is owned at Peekskill. Upon it stand the Noyes Home for Incurable and Convalescent Children. St. Gabriel's school, the convent, which occupies a building formerly occupied by the school, and a chapel, built in 1892. The sisters are not engaged in work solely in Institutions belonging to the order. THEy SAINT : PAUL DAILY GLOBE? SUNDAY MORNING, MARCH 15, 1896. They are. : found in hospitals and . mis sion fields in different places where the church has work . for them to do. St. John's Free Hospital for Children, at 407 West Thirty-fourth street, in New York, is the property of the sisterhood, and they have " recently increased Its usefulness by purchasing thirty acres of land at the Rocks, above -France street,. where they will have a summer home. . The property is controlled by the sisterhood, though always, as in other things, " under the direction of Bishop Potter. The sisters take the entire charge of the sick in the hospi tal, assisted by women of the church, who appreciate the opportunity of fered to give their services to the work. > ■ ** "■.'.'•T.;.*:.vi-.-.-.";.;«*YC Other institutions in the city owned by or in charge of the sisters are the House of Mercy, at lnwood. the first work undertaken by the sisters; St. Mary's v school, in Forty-sixth street; the Laura Franklin hospital, One Hun dred and Eleventh street; the Trinity hospital, on Varick street, and the Trin ity Mission house, on Fulton street. Out of the city the sisters are in charge of a school at Kenosha, Wis.; a mission house connected with the cathedral in Chicago, a young ladies' school and orphanage in Memphis, and a mission house in Sewanee, Term. It was in Memphis, IS7B. that the community lost four sisters, who were bravely battling with yellow fever and finally sacrificed their lives in the work. The Community of St. Mary is the largest Protestant sisterhood in Amer ica. It has now nearly 100 members. There are many novitiates this year, and it is increasing rapidly in size. It is said that religious orders are anxious to add to their numbers. Every effort is made in the Community of St.. Mary to restrict its members to those who are absolutely fitted for the service. The vow of poverty is taken literally. The sisters are supported by the com munity. There are no property regula tions. The property of the sisters is sometimes given to the community, sometimes left to needy friends out side. Many sisters enter who have no property of any kind. The community is pre-eminently a working ; order, and there is not time for extraordinary acts of devotion. A general idea of the work is best con veyed in the report of the sisters for the year past. The chief work of the Mission house during the past year has been investi gating the needs of new families; visit ing and relieving the sick and poor, meeting nine guilds weekly; superin tending the training girls, cooking school, and kitchengarten; gathering persons together for Sunday and Fri day evensong; preparing candidates for confirmation and baptism; instructing children in the church catechism (on an MRS. BYGRAVEJS BICYCLE SKIRT. average 200 are taught ; prayers, which they are to use daily), and looking after people, both in the guilds and In their own homes, as to their spiritual duties. Three classes are taught in the Sun day school, and the German chapel is cared for. The aims of the church are distrib uted from the Mission house, and bring many visitors with requests of all kinds, as. for example: For pensions, groceries, coal shoes, old clothes, situ ations for work, homes for orphaned and deserted children,' doctors' visits, medicine, money to cross the ferry, food, furniture, "a couple of pennies to pay the rent," money to keep up in surance, tickets to. anywhere, assis tance to find runaway husbands, rec ommendations to boarding places, and to secure free board, lodging, &c, &c, &c. ■ y^-.^'','' '.:y There are a large chapel and a mis sion room where the services are held, and guilds meet in the mission house and rooms where the cooking school and -kindergarten and kitchengarden classes are held. . There are guilds with various objects whose members range in age from small • girls . to .the mothers of families, a and i there are guilds for the boys as well." The household ser vice training school at the mission is composed of eight little maidens, 'who begin their training .when; they are nine years of age, and . are -kept, ! if possible, until they are sixteen. All this, with the care of the seaside Summer home, is. in charge of the three sisters at the mission house. "'. " ;J :■ There are Sisters of St. John Baptist, Sisters of the Good Shepherd, Sisters of the Holy Communion. Sisters of St. John, in Brooklyn, and others. The community of St. Mary is the largest order, and its work may be considered representative. It has been asked if the sisters are allowed recreation in their busy lives. They find it usually in their work, and in" the amusements they prepare for the children and older persons who come under their care. y"y "I once knew a sister who enjoyed a rare dissipation," says a clergyman. "She took a sail up the river as far as Newberg and back, and she was per fectly delighted." The Sisters of St. Mary are allowed to visit their friends for a month each year if they like. They can always go to them in sick ness. ■ '. .' ■vV.'-:- •-"•;...*:.:.:•'. $5,000 IN FOUR DAYS. ■;- \^.,.....y ■■, ... -. ■■■■ : \\ Mrs. Hj'ifrove Received It Last Week for a Bleyele Skirt. The palm for a rapid and skillful busi ness transaction must unquestionably be awarded to the young and pretty British matron, Mrs. Bygrave. Mrs. Bygrave landed in America on Friday, the last day of January, with a bicycle skirt of her own invention for sale. Within two hours of her arrival, while still nervous and dizzy from her long and earnest communion with Nep tune. Mrs. Bygrave had not only denned her new original skirt, but was displaying its various merits to the buyer of one of the largest sporting goods establishments in the country. Not satisfied . wi.th the offer he made her, this self-confident, energetic young woman went forth on Saturday in search of greater financial inducements to part with her ' cycling skirt. The first establishment she visited offered her a royalty on all sales made. But Mrs. Bygrave had other ambitions and walked away in her patent skirt to a well-known firm on Twenty third street. The wisdom of her, course was shown when she promptly received an offer of $5,000 from the ' Twenty-third street dealers, who stipulated, of course, that they should receive full assurance of a patent from Washington. Lest there should be any difficulty" in regard to the condition of the patent, Mrs. By grave on Monday started for Washing ton, remained in the patent office two hours, found the coast clear for launch ing, as it were, the new cycling skirt, and returned to New York on the after noon train. She did not see the White house. That was not her business in Washington, she said. • On Tuesday she visited the patent office in New York to make sure that there would be no delay in granting the patent, visited the firm with whom she was negotiating, received a check for $500 with a note for the additional sum of $4,500 so soon as the patent should be received, and on Wednesday morning sailed on the Majestic for her native shore, the very neat $s,ooo 'transaction having been accomplished in less than four days. - _ Her cycling skirt is the most novel invention in the matter of wheeling skirts that has yet come before the wheeling public. By a system of cords worked through openings near the waist line it can be made to fill three different varieties of long-felt wants in the bicycle woman. • First of all, it is a trim, circular walking skirt, close fitting over the hips and measuring about three yards at the hem. To adapt this skirt to the "drop frame" bicycle* the middle of the front breadth is pulled up by means of a shirring string run down the front seam between the lining and a narrow casing. This string is. drawn through an opening at the i waist, '-" where' it is fastened by means of a clasp under a neat pocket flap. The shirring reaches a short distance above the knees, leav ing the skirt neat and smooth fitting about the hips and actually forming two loose bags In which the knees work up and down without the slight est dragging and pulling at the waist line, which is the sad -and daily ex perience of the woman wearing the or dinary skirts. The third -possibility of the unique garment is developed by working the cords that run up the back seam and find an outlet under a tailor-made flap just over the hip. The pulling of these two side cords converts the skirt into a pair of neat and graceful bloomers that Will permit the fair rider, in case of an emergency, to mount a "diamond frame" bicycle with all the grace and agility of a masculine wheelman. By the use of four square leads in the hem of the skirt the instant the strings are unclasped and the rider stands erect the bloomers again become a walking skirt. There is no pulling of the gar- ment into shapes or adjusting of belt necessary. ■ Simply press the clasps and the act of dismounting does the rest. A SWEETHEART. My Nesea Is a poet's dream, A lyric sweet and true; Her heart of gold's a ballad old Whose music thrills me through. My Nesca's eyes like twin stars rhyme Beneath a brow of snow; Her dimpled hand's a sonnet grand, Her hair a silk rondeau. Her rose-lit cheeks two love songs are Faultless her tiny feet; * In burning rhyme I say that time Ne'er saw maid half so sweet. . And yet, despite the fact that she Is naught save poetry. Despite her rhymes, I find at times ■ She's not adverse to me. Going to Eat- tern WlMconsln. Marshfield, Wausau, Antlgo, Oconto, Marinette, New London, Green Bay) Manitowoc. Sheboygan and Port Washington take "The ' North- Western Line"— C. St. P., M. &O. Ry. Trains leave Minneapolis 7:30 a..m.; St. Paul 8:10 a.m. . '..; -.; *.--.; .*;>% :^j-y" OUR SUNDAY SERMON. Mg|.; fl STABLE FfliTH fl SURE SUPPORT. 1^ ma Urn %&&® REV RICHARD CORDLEY, » «-__ LAWRENCE, KAN, jjfe&gfl (Copyright, 1896, Newspaper Sermon Asso ciation, Boston. The .fight *^ of publication granted to all, if crtg.lt be given this paper.) "Hold fast the prjffsesifn of your faith."— Hebrews x., 23. . feS" fT ■• . The profession of our faith Is the faith we have processed. We have professed faith pod. .God Is the foundation of all|tl|i|jg3. .Heal faith In God supersedes , s'thing else." If we really trust' in God bur trust will not waver when * otliei^ things waver. Slt rests on the deep* foundation which is never disturbed.- We truly choose It. We choose it for itfelf and for what there is in it. It does not depend on our circumstances, and it must not fluctuate with our circumstances. Its value Is greater when other things fail. If you believe in. your friend you will "not abandon him when he is in trou ble, nor doubt him because something has happened which you do not quite understand. You do not. feel .uneasy about the sun because it goes behind a cloud, or sinks below the horizon at night. ; : ;;'■' y J:;: ■.-..•* :y yy-'Vy Friendship was made for the dark hour, and it is not worth much if it fail when adversity comes or doubt overshadows a man. . It is at Just such times we prize a true "friend who stands by us when affairs grow awry. Faith has its special value when we cannot see. You do not count him a wise man who should abandon his spar because the waters were so wild and land so far away. This is the very time when he should cling to his spar. You would not count him a wise man who should wear his life j preserver as he was parading the deck on a fine afternoon, ' and then should leave It below when the ship foundered and he must take to the water. '* Yet " this is just the way a great many Christians regard their faith. They make much of 'it . when everything ■is prosperous, and then lose their hold upon it when disaster overtakes them. If you believe God only when He is prospering you, your faith has very lit tle virtue and very little value. It does not mean much to trust when you can see, if you doubt the moment sight fails. What is the use of an anchor if the cable breaks when the strain comes? An anchor is intended to hold the ship. It is not expected that it will prevent the storm, or level the waves, but it is expected that it will hold the ship in place. It is not a charm to still the seas, but a cable to hold the ship. 'y A j life-preserver is not intended to keep a man out of the water, but to help him keep afloat when he is in the water. -y The purpose of faith is not to enable a man to escape trials, but to enable him to bear them. A family group were reading the Scriptures in course at their morning worship. They had come one morning to the account of the crucifixion. As they read, the story seemed wonderful ly real and vivid. They read how Jesus went in silence ; from Pilate's hall to Calvary, bearing His cross till He could bear it no longer, and then another must bear it for Him. They read how the soldiers took Him and nailed Him 'to the cruel cross, casting lots for. His clothes; how the multitude gathered about and mocked Him. , One said: "Let the King of Israel come down from the cross and we will believe Him; thou that destroyest the temple and in three "days buildest it again, save thy self." Another replied: : "He saved others, himself he cannot save," and another said: "He trusted in God, let God deliver him now if he wants him." Another, more bold still, shouted to the sufferer: "If thou be the son of God come down from the cross." At this point one of the group, a young girl, who had followed the story with intense interest, and growing indigna tion, interrupted the reading and spoke out impulsively: . V "Why didn't He come down?" There was no answer. There could be none. I presume all of us have asked the same question many and many a time. Why didn't He come down and confound His foes then and there? Why didn't He come down and end at once all controversy as to His divine authority and power? It ; would, indeed, have been \ a startling display of power, but not half so di vine as the patience with which He endured until , "it was finished." Why didn't He come down? Christ never comes down from the cross, either in His own person or in the person of His disciples. They are all made to bear until it is finished. . Have we not our selves been where it seemed as if our last desire had been refused? The cup we prayed might pass has been pressed to our lips. The heavens have seemed brass above and the earth a desert beneath us. We have gone into a night that had stars, and waited for a; morning that brought *no . sun. In such an hour, the heart has cried, "though the lips moved not, "'My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" At such an hour it is an unspeakable relief to - remember that "" He whom God most surely loved, went down into the same depths and uttered the same cry. .. t V yj-y ■. . - '. This has been the experience of them all from the beginning unto now. Again and again there has been no lightening of the lot, no lifting of the load, no turning away of the blow. The blow comes, and comes hard, too. And we are inclined to ask often: "What profit is there if we pray unto Him?" "Made perfect . through suffering" is not true alone of the Captain of our Salvation, it is true of His followers as well. His people bear, about in . their . own bodies the; dying of the Lord. ■'■ How the noblest men have buffeted the tide and been submerged at the last. How the gentlest spirits have felt the grind ing of a hard , life and never known a respite. How the most beautiful char acters have shone out of the darkest experience. How the loveliest have borne the longest- and not jat eventide could it be said: "There was light." Some English' poet, burdened wJth this thought, has voiced what we all have felt, in a verse which I found floating somewhere a few ' years since: Is it true. O Christ, in heaven That the purest suffer most." —/v And the strongest: wander farthest, And most hopelessly: are lost? . Is the mark of rank in nature ** - v Capacity for pain? ,;. * Does the anguish of the singer Make the sweetness. of the strain? \ But in all this our elder, has been before us. "We pass through no dark er rooms than He went through be fore." .. Our faith should .be - for the time .that tests i\... However wild; the storm, we trust the God who rules the storm. No matter how long and dark the night, we ti'ust the God of the mo-*ning. As we. St^Prtd :in the middle of the night, it mil- not add a single star to the /sky, or, tfcrow a single j ray of light' on • our path, . but v we endure • * -. - * . . . ■ i - .■••-■ -. -\ _ the darkness and wait with vastly greater patience and courage when we know that the sun will rise again at 6 o'clock In the morning. .y ' - ;. As we stand in the middle of the winter, and the air is' full of frost, and the ground is buried in snow, and the waters of lake and river "are locked in Ice, it may not put ; a single leaf on the tree, or a single blade of grass on the plain, or a single flower on the hillside, .'but it makes the winter vastly more endurable, and makes our lines vastly more cheerful, to. know that on the 21st of March the sun will return to this northern hemisphere, and be gin to warm the earth for another sea son. "Roses will come again," and "it will be summer time by and by." Faith may not banish our difficulties, but it gives meaning to the contest by which we overcome them. It does not lift our loads for us, but we are made strong to carry them. It does not restore our losses, or fill our lonll ness, or dry our tears; but losses and loneliness and tears become less deso late when we know that thoueh/ "weeping may endure for a night, joy cometh in the morning," and "he that goeth and weepeth, bearing precious seed, shall doubtless come again with rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with "him." It may not steady the earth when it quakes, but it steadies our souls amid the rocking, when we know that there are things which cannot; be shaken, and that we receive a king dom which cannot be moved. ".'• -'■'; ."■; . '■ . mm v — .'-.. . i NORTHFIELD " STIRRED UP. ' Innocent Little . Party Gets College Boys and Maidens in Trouble. Special to the Globe. • NORTHFIELD, Minn., March 14.— A sensational affair occurred in this city last week, and is just. now coming to light. It has caused no end of gossip among society people and the faculty of Carleton college Is stirred up to a considerable extent. In fact, nothing since the famous Northfield bank rob bery by the James gang and Younger brothers has created so much havoc in this beautiful city. It appears that a young man, who makes his headquar ters in Minneapolis, but whose home is in Northfield, came here some days ago, and finding that his mother, who is a widow, was spending the winter elsewhere, conceived the idea that it would be an excellent time to entertain j a limited number of his young college friends, both male and . female. Ac cordingly, a quiet tip was given to a fair maiden who attends Gridley hall that he would throw open the doors of his mother's palatial mansion, and he would be pleased if she and a few of her companions would accept his hos pitality from 3 to 5 in the afternoon on a certain day. Several young men attending Carleton college were also invited to be on hand. The afternoon arrived, likewise the young ladies and the young gentlemen arrived at the! home where the festivities were to take place. They did not go to the house in a bunch, but went there by singles and doubles. They passed the after noon in a very enjoyable manner, in dulging in those innocent pastimes such as delight the hearts of young people. About 5 pr m. the party. broke up, after partaking of a dainty lunch . served by the young host. Nothing more was thought of the affair for sev eral days. One fine morning the first j of this week the preceptress of Gridley hall received an anonymous letter from a female who lives near the house in which the party occurred, informing the head of the young ladles' seminary of the affair and giving the names of the participants. The young ladies were called before the preceptress, and she delivered to them a severe lecture and then proceeded to punish the al leged criminals in various ways. One -of the maidens was banished to a farm near Red Wing, where she will remain in seclusion for two weeks. Two oth ers were sentenced to eat their meals at the "second table," and will not be permitted to associate with the other young ladies in the school for the bal ance of this term. One ,or two of the girls were suspended from the institu tion. While the preceptress at Gridley hall was dealing out sentences to the young ladies, the faculty of Carleton college was holding a red-hot session, discuss ing the manner in which the guilty young gentlemen should be dealt with. The result was that Prof. Goodhue was Instructed to take charge of the ' mat ter. He did so, and now several young fellows are attending other educational institutions in the Northwest.. . . >. While the faculty of Carleton college and Gridley hall are trying to keep the whole matter quiet, the affair is the talk of the "town, and has caused a great sensation. To California on me "Maple Leaf." Every Tuesday the Chicago Great Western Railway (Maple Leaf Route) runs a Tourist Sleeper via the Santa Fe Route to Los Angeles —24 hours shorter than by any other -line! Tickers at Maple Leaf Ticket Office, Robert and Fifth streets. ' AXEXTED HIS DEMANDS. Hotel Porter Had a Jag, bat He Wanted n Bigger One. Special to the Globe. HINCKLEY, Minn., March 14.— The Henry house, a middle-class hotel, looks as if a cyclone had struck it. There is not a whole pane of glass in the lower story, and the back and .front doors and all doors down stairs are battered and broken. It looks as if it had been the - center of a, Cu ban battle;- but" it is all the work of one man, a Mr. Jonestutter, who, in lucid intervals, worked for Mr. Henry. On election day Mr. J. voted several times • for both ' sides with strict impartiality, and was .induced by the flattered candidates to taste the cup that jeers and does inebriate. Under the magnetic influence of the' wassail Mr. J. decided to draw his winter wages and erect- a jag which should pale the glories even of ..-: the monumental debauches: of the Roman emperors.: But- Mrs. Henry, who is a large lady, with ideas of her own, ; ad vanced him only a dollar on account;" he 1 had the bad taste to argue the mat ter, and Mrs. H. pitched him out doors head first. Visions of his Welsh an centry impelled Mr. J. to seek a bat tle ax, but there being no battle ax factory in Pine county, he was forced to use any Old ax that was. handy, c and advance upon " the fortress. Chanting : a Welsh war song. he literally chopped j his way •: through the house, from front to back, and then around' each side; plying his ax as he went, . frighten ing women, and children, he made the wood and glass fly until the populace thought another fire was coming. In fact, the local wit declared that he had obtained axes to the house. Mr. J. was ultimately, secured and put in strong lodgings, "with gyves upon his wrists," but he ' promises to move Hinckley back a mile or two ; from the railroad track when he is released. McKinley Will add great wealth to the laboring man, aggregating more than the out put of the Alaska gold fields, while the "Soo Line" is adding direct wealth to each individual by ; making a rate of $46 from St. Paul to Alaska! A folder giving full particulars has just ap peared. Write or call: on Ticket Agent, 398 Robert street. .. . -, Highest of all in Leavening Power.— Latest U.S. Gov't Report - v AB_»OIssUTEE.¥ PURE mm .../VT Tl+E FIT 1 MOUTH-... St. Paul's. I. "No, no; I wur a fool to hope or think sic a thing. There be anither man tha lovest; a yoonger man, a bet ther man nor me. It will be Will Ben son. Dunnot answer, lass, I know it. Well, forgi' me what a' said. Good bye, Jessie, and God bless thee, lass' God bless thee!" Thus Steve Armstrong, as he turned away from the cottage where Jessie Mac D'avitt lived; that cottage with the gay flowers around its porch that made the one bright patch of bright ness in this dismal, dust-begrimed coun try-side, blackened where by coal, saddened by the lives of men whose destiny had cast to delve and burrow beneath the fair earth that other men might grow rich. But,* somehow, today Steve Arm strong could see no brightness in any thing. He had been : a fool, and no mistake, this great, stalwart, broad shouldered miner.' He was well past forty; his hair becoming gray, and sparse on. top— quite old to her. ■ ■.... He had been a bachelor all these years. He might have known- it was sheer madness now |to lavish all - the weal ; of ; his \ great, manly heart on pretty, . winsome Jessie | She - did . not want an old fogy -like him. ,-' ..r- ~: - At first she \ seemed^: to hear ' his tale with gentle tenderness and pity. Bad, indeed, must' be the ? woman • whdse heart remains untouched by the love of a true and honest man. Then a word or two she dropped almost un consciously had revealed the truth. Of course Will Benson was the man. He had been blind fool not to have seen it long ago. - Will, was twenty years younger than himself. On Sundays Will was quite a masher (the Ameri canism had grown into common use even here). , Will was just the lad to please the girl's fancy. * - : '■;'■■:- ■'■■'•■ - ' 11. -■• > - ' ■ ■-■■': It was Saturday night. Bar and par lor of the Miners' Arms was crowded with men. Here the hard-earned money flew merrily; money which should have gone to wife and weans at home money which might have been as a tower of strength in fighting the bat tles that labor and poverty always have to fight. Will Benson was there, in the midst of a noisy throng, reeking of beer, spir its and rauk tobacco. He had had a great ? deal ";' too much drink already. Suddenly- some one ' laid a hand upon his arm. He turned tlpsily and encoun tered the serious, steadfast gaze of Steven Armstrong, who was not drunk and had only just entered the public house.;- "..-.- :- ■•--. " ' . ". • ■•'.-•- - * •-; "Dunnot tak'; ony moor," the latter whispered, gently but firmly. \ * "Who told thee to interfere, maister preacher?" v:. :;;--; : .:'>-.:'■ .■*..-! ;.y '-; ■-.-;■ &£ .'. "No one. . I ask thee" not to, for the sake o' girl who loves thee.";: .. ... "Did .** she ::. tell ;: thee-; to coom .* pryin* afther'me?"" .;'**;■: '■-'.'■"•.'.■" m^;: ;. y.^.^vyy "Tha knowest better no that: *; I Ask thee for her sake, and fur tha own good." j--.v-L r ■•, ;■--. :.-.::-;.• •':■;.■..•••.*.. *r-. "Bah! I've -heerd yond' .* stuff fro' t' blue ribbon bon -fowk.'afore now." .'■'. "A' be none o' them. " I hold that a chap as canna' tak' a dlass or two an* stop when he ha' gotten enough is na worthy o' bein' called a mon. I believe in total abstinence na moor nor I do in drunkards." „„....:,.. "Then what t'devir-be'est jawin'to me about?" the young man said fiercely. "I ask thee not t' spend all t' neet here. Think o' her who'st o' be tha wife. These chaps do thee no good. They'll mak' thee spend ha brass, and when 'tis all gone, they'll only laugh at thee." .--..- . i "Shew me t' mon as'll laugh at me! Ye daren't! It's tha thyself as are doin' it. Come outside, then, and we'll see who'st t' best mon!" "I winna fight wi' — and certainly not now," Armstrong answered, slowly and with dignity; it was not the re traction of a coward. His well-meant remonstrances^ had proved worse than useless, and from that time those two men felt each other to be rivals. 111. ' Horror and consternation are spead ing : far and wide through the grimy Lancashire town. A • terrible explo sion has just been heard. They know only too well what that means, and the poor women, both young and old,' are rushing wild and terror-stricken to the pit's mouth. " . ' Down in the "workings" the excite ment is 'at its' height. Men are running to the bottom of the shaft, running for their lives, for the noxious after damp is choking them and they know only too • well', that many of them are destined never to see the light of day again. The cage is going up and down again as quickly as may be, but it will only hold a limited number. They must patiently * wait their turn, and that turn may mean life or death. "There, bo room for one moor," the miners shout. "Come along, Steve Armstrong; It 'be tha turn." y^ \ But he does not move. - ."No," he answers, "I be old a* alone. Here's a young .fellow, as a gotten a mlther; let un go instead this time." It was Bill Benson who stood by his side. "You. Armstrong! You mak' room for me!" he exclaimed. "What dost suppose ad do? A' fight fair when a' want to fight." "You do this for ma sake?" ■ "Not for thine, mon; for. her! Go!" •"' The words were few— there was not time for more— but they had a rough, heroic dignity about . them. Benson 'stepped into the cage without another word, the signal .was . given and they went up toward the light '*-\ and \ air above.. >; :'£.* " - From I those about the pit's ■ mouth * a ringing cheer arose as the cage reached" the surface. They knew that so many, at least, of their mates were safe, and some of the women went away with hearts .full : of joy., _ and thankfulness. ,The. word went quickly round that Steve Armstrong had ; sent up Will Benson"', instead 1^ of "himself. Pretty Jessie MacDavitt was there. When she heard the whisper- she un derstood. " A woman's instinct is much the same after all, whether she -be a princess or only a rough miner's lass. Benson came toward - her, but she seemed hardly to notice him. She was waiting for some one else. " ,r The cage was let : down again. Some anxious . minutes ; followed that seemed like hours. - : Once :, more it appeared with its load of men. Jessie pressed eagerly forward. Great heavens! he whom she sought was not there! Sev eral voices asked after him— Jessie dared not trust herself to do so and then came the appalling answer: ; ''Choke-damp ha' taken him and bit wall fallen in ower him!" -." ; Suddenly a woman's voice rang out Jessie MacDavitt's: -."Then 1 he be 1' danger— dying dead mayhap! .He gave his life forgone o'ye. Aren't ye men?. Are none o' ye v goin' to save un? Then I wull!" She pressed forward toward the pit, but a dozen strong arms restrained her : and one old fellow said: "Keep back, lass! It'll be death to go down there for nigh an hour yet., This be no place for women fowk." She heeded not and, breaking away from them, entered the cage. Two or three men followed her, ashamed to think that a girl should be braver than they, and down they went from the lights into the darkness, down among the noxious, deadly gasses— to the unknown.- ... A long, long time now elapsed, or so it seemed to the anxious watchers. Two or three cages full of miners, came up, but they were not among them. Great heavens! was it possible I that all had perished in the heroic at tempt? The news that Jessie had gone be— low reached her mother, and Mrs. Mac- Davitt, with her sleeves tucked up, fresh from the washtub, her cheeks, pale as death, her eyes streaming, rushed madly to the spot. Even at that moment the cage was* coming up again. A deafening, cheer rans out, loud and long, upon the* murky air. It was . they— they at last, . thank God! But , were they alive?' Two inanimate forms were lying "down* Upon the black, dusky bank— the forms* of Jessie MacDavitt and Steven Arm strong. -■*-'. .-y-.-,, ;.y.v. i : ■„-^-.'<- ;/:-_. = ...- ; yy- ■-;.../. '^.-y y IV. r. -C**~t "-. . .- '. y Jessie -MacDavitt sat all alone, at' work in the little front parlor of her mother's cottage.' She was quite well! again now, but her recovery from the effects of her adventure in the mine had been slow and painful. -" - There was a knock at the door. She" called out: "Come. in!" in sweet cheery tones. It was Steven Arm strong who entered the apartment. She looked -up, surprised; and colored i' up to her very brow as she rose to greet him. She had not seen him since [ that fearful day; perhaps this was tar reason of her confusoin. He did not* wear his working, nor yet his '.'shift-/ in' " clothes, but was • habited in a tweed suit, and wide awake. - How brave and noble he looked, albeit a. trifle pale just now! ' ' - "Mr. Armstrong," she said, "I am so glad to see you fettle again. I haven't seen you sinee — — — " - -"Not since then— no; it wur churlish, o me not to coom an' thank thee only— only there be nae thanks i possible for sic things as that. Oh, Jessie, why didst do it; why didst risk" tha life?" ; -J, -•'■.:■:. ;,.\* A "Because you gave your r change 6" life to him, ".she answered simply, but with an unsteady tremor in her- voice.. "Now I ha' come to bid ' thee f good by," Armstrong said, like a man who has an unpleasant duty to perform, and wants to 'get it over quickly. "A' be goin' away." "Goin' away!" she echoed. "Where to?" "Reet fori vver. To America or Australy— a' hardly know where yet. A' be tired o' t' life here. But remem ber,, if there be ivver ony thing. I can do .for- thee, a' wull. Tha shalt know .where..l -go-to, and if tha should ivver want a friend or a helpin' hand, all come to thee. if 'twere half across t' •world ! If a' han't said" mooch, remem- - ber a' know that a' can nivver hope to pay ma' debt to thee!" ": : "Oh, dunnot talk like that; please dunnot talk about it— l— l hadn't j an idea you were thinkin' o' goin' away— ■. it's— ye've took me so sudden like— l— . dunnot know what to say.".:-: ■.-. •• ci!< "Say, Jess, ma. lass! Just say: "Good by, and God bless . thee, -Steve-Arm- £ strong, or soom sic words as all be able to tak' 'wi' me. an' cherish i' mem ory o' thee when a' be far away." "God bless thee, Steve Armstrong, wi' all ma heart, but not good-by!" Jes sie said, in a voice that was even more unsteady with emotion than before. "Ah, dunnot it mun be, I say— tha would not torture me?" "Wouldn't that stay, Steve, if a' were to ask ye?" - ■ "There's naething I wouldna do that you bid me — excep' that— that, why a' be going fro' thee!" . "Fro' me?" "Surely, a' needna tell thee all over again. A' wish thee an' tha husband well, wi' all ma heart— but I canna stay!" ■ "Ye said just now ye'd do anything for me," Jessie answered, clasping her hands; and the bright color mantled in. her cheek hotter and redder than ever - —such a coy, pretty blush! They were hard words for a girl to speak; but she had made up her mind all at once, and felt impelled to go on. "Ye said ye nivver could hope to repay yer debt to me. Suppose I show ye t* way? Stay here for ma sake, dunnot ye un derstand?— make me have to say ony moor " "What madness is this? And t' mon i tha'rt plighted to?" ■ "We are no plighted "now. He be gone reet away. Heven't ye* heerd?" "No; I hay na been mooch among t' chaps o* late." "It was a small thing that parted us; something I asked un to give up for my sake—only t 'drink. But he said ' no; no wench should ivver mak' a milk sop o' him. Then a' cam' to compare ye both togither; he, who wouldn't even do that mooch; you, who, would ha' given yer life for ma' sake. A' thing t' were at t' pit mouth t' thought first came to me. A weighed both i' scales, and then a' knew which way ma heart had gone!". -. And that was where she nestled now her pretty head; to that brave heart which was to be her home forever more. *'■'•' .- '.'..... 'mm ■ — ■ ■ SHOT WILL BE FATAL. Mitchell Business Man Attempts Sul ,y,,'> 1- eide — Affairs in a Tangle, Special to the Globe. t MITCHELL, S. D., March 14.— W. H. Knowles, the* prominent merchant who attempted .suicide this morning by shooting himself through the head. Is still alive, but cannot recover. It was thought at first that two shots were fired, but doctors decided that one forty-four-caliber ball passed clear through the head. He left a note,, jf giving as a reason, for his rash act that he was afraid of losing • his rea- | son and saying he preferred death to insanity. It was learned later that? his financial affairs were In very strained circumstances, -'and his fine grocery store is now in charge of the' sheriff. He has not regained' conscious- . ness, and can . live but a few hours. Lem Mallery, the . credit ' man of a. Sioux City wholesale house, : said . there : was no excuse as far as financial mat ters were concerned. -■ "I . have -sold} him goods for fourteen years. He j. was perfectly ; honest, and would not : have . been crowded." . mm ■__ — _ ■■" No other hotel in the Northwest pro- h vides so many modern accommodations : of table and European or American plan choice evening dinners, fine cafe, and -.. service as Hotel ■ Met- ; 1 roDOlitan. 19