THE TABERNACLE PULPIT
Dr. Taimage Preaches on His Visit
to the Acropolis.
OoBklRnaUflii of Harmon, on Ills Trip
Throng!, the Holy I.and, atu! What
He Mew Confirmatory of
the lllble.
Brooklyn, N. Y., Not. S3.—Tho con
gregation nt the Tabernacle, led by
cornet and orgnn, sang this morning
with great power tho hymn of Isaac
Watts, beginning:
•‘Our (»oil, our help in nges past,
Our hope for yours to I'onn*."
The sermon, which was on the Acrop
olis, is the sixth of the series which Or.
Talmnge is preaching on the subjects
suggested by his tour in liible lands.
Ills text was tnken from Acts xriiilG:
“While Paul waited for them at Athens
his spirit was stirred in him when he
saw the city wholly given to idolatry.”
It seemed as if morning would never
come. We had arrived after dark in
Athens, Greece, and the night was
sleepless with expectation, and my
watch slowly announced to me 1 and 2
.and 3 and 4 o'clock; and at the first
ray of dawn, I called our party to look
out of the window upon that city to
which Paul said he was a debtor, and
to which,the whole earth is debtor for
Mreck architecture, Greek sculpture,
Greek poetry, Greek eloquence, Greek
prowess and Greek history. That
morning in Athens we sauntered forth
armed with most goncrous and lovely
letters from the president of the
United States, and his secretary of
state, and during all our stay in that
city those letters caused every door
and every gate and every temple and
every palace to swing open before us
The mightiest geographical name on
earth today is America. The signature
of an American president and secre
tary of state will take a man where un
aamy could not. Those names brought
us into the presence of a most gracious
and beautiful sovereign, the queen of
Qreece, and her cordiality was more
liko that of a sister than the occupant
of a throne room. No formal bow as
when monarchs are approached, but a
cordial shake of the hand, and earnest
questions about our personal welfare
and our beloved country far away. Iiut
this morning wo pass through where
stood the Agora, the ancient market
place, the locality where philosophers
used to meet their disciples, walking
whllo they talked, and where Paul, the
Christian logician, flung many a proud
stoic, and got the laugh on many an
impertinent epicurean. The market
place wus the center of social and po
litical life, and it was the place where
people went to tell and hear the news.
,iv llootlis and bazaars were set up for
merchandise of all kinds, except meat,
but everything must bo sold for cash,
and there must be no lying about the
value of commodities, and the Agornn
omi who ruled the place could inflict
severe punishment upon offenders. The
different schools of thinkers had dis
tinct places cet apart for convocation.
The Plutueans must meet at the cheese
market, the Dccelians at the barber
shop, the sellers of perfumes at the
frankincense headquarters. The mar
ket place was a space 350 yards long
and 250 wide, and it was given up to
gossip and merchandise, and lounging
and philosophizing. All this you need
to know in order to understand the
> Bible when it says of Paul, “Therefore
disputed lie in the market daily them
that met him.” You see it was the
‘ best plnce to get an audience, and if a
man feels hhnself called to preach he
if,' wants people to preach to. But before
wo make our chief visits of today we
v. must take a turn at the Stadium. It
is a little way out, but go we must.
The Stadium was the place where the
foot-races occurred.
r aui nan been out there no doubt
ter ho frequently uses the scenes of
that place as figures when he tells us:
“Let ns run the race that is set before
us,” and again. “They do it to obtain a
corruptible garland, but we an incor
% ruptiblo. ” The marble and the gilding
' have been removed, but the high
mounds against which the scats were
\ . piled are still there. The Stadium is
680 feet long. 130 feet wide, and held
40.000 spectators. There is today the
▼cry tunnel through which the de
feated racer departed from the Sta
dium and from the hisses of the people,
and there are the stairs up which tho
victor went to the top of the hill to
be crowned with the laurel. In this
place contosts with wild beasts some
times took place, and while Hadrian,
the emperor, sat on yonder height,
1.000 beasts were slain in one celebra
tion. llut it was chiefly for foot rac
ing, and so 1 proposed to my friend
that day while we were in the Stadium
that we try whieh of us couid run the
, sooner, from end to end of this his
torical ground, and so at the word
given by the lookers-on we started
side by side, but before 1 got through
1 found out what Paul meant when he
compares the spiritual race with the
race in this very Stadium, as he says:
y •‘Lay nside every weight.” My heavy
overcoat, and my friend's freedom
from such encumbrance showed the
advantage in any kind of a race of
“laying aside every weight.”
We come now to the Acropolis. It is
a rock about two miles in circumfrcnce
at the base aud a thousand feet in cir
cumference at the top. and 300 feet
"* high. On it has been crowded more
elaborate architecture and sculpture
than in any other place under the
■whole heavens. Originally a fortress,
afterward a congregation of te.nples
.and statues and pillars, tlicir ruins an
enchantment from which no observer
ever breaks away. No wonder that
Aristides thought it the center of all
things—Greece, the center of the
world; Attica, the center of Greece:
Athens, the center of Attica, and the
Acropolis the center of Athens. Earth
quakes have shaken it: Verres plun
dered it. Lord Elgin, the English am
F; bassador at Constantinople, got per
mission of the sultan to remove from
».he Acropolis fallen pieces of the build
ing, but he took from the building t«
England the finest statues, removing
I them at an expense of $800,000. A storm
overthrew many of the statnes of the
Acropolis. Alorosini, the general, at
tempted to remove from a pediment
the sculptured car and horses of Vic
tory, but the clumsy machinery drop
ped it, and all was lost. The Turks
turned the building into a powder
magazine where the Venetian guns
dropped a fire that by explosion sent
the columns flying in the air and fall
ing cracked and splintered. liut
after all that time and storm and war
and inconoclasm have effected, the
Acropolis is the monarch of all ruins,
and before it bow tho learning, the
genius, the poetry, the art, the history
of the ages. I saw it as it was thous
o( years ago. 1 had read so much
about it, that I needed no magician's
wand to restore It. At One wave of
ray hand on that clear morning in 1881),
it rose before me in tho glory it had
when Pericles ordered it, and Ictinus
planned it, and Phidias chiselled it and
Protogines painted it and Pausanias
described it Its gates, which were
carefully guarded by the ancieuts,
open to let you In, and you nsceud by
sixty marble steps the propylmn, which
Epaminondus wanted to transfer to
Thebes, but permission, I am glad to
say, could not be granted for the re
movai oi ims arcimeciurai miracle.
In the (lays when 10 cents would do
more than a dollar now, the building I
cost $2,300,000. See its live
ornamental (fates, the keys entrusted :
to an officer for only one day lest the
temptation to go in and misappropriate I
the treasures bo too great for him; its I
ceiling a mingling of blue and scarlet i
and green, and the walls abloom with
pictures uttermost in thought and col
oring, Yonder is a temple to a god
dess called “Vietory without Wings.1'
So many of the triumphs of the world
had been followed by defeat that the
Greeks wished in marble to indicate
that victory for Athens had come never
to fly away, and hence this teinpje to
"Victory without Wings,”—a temple
of marble, snow white and glittering.
Yonder behold the pedestal of Agrippa !
twenty-seven feet high and twelve feet
square. Hut, the overshadowing won
der of all the hill is the Parthenon. In
days when money was ten times more
valuable than now, it cost $4,600,000.
It is a Doric grandeur, having forty
six columns, each column thirty-four
feet high and six feet two inches in
diameter. Wondrous intercolunmia
tions! Painted porticos, architraves
tinged with ochre, shields of gold hung
up, lines of most delicate curve, figures
of horses and men and women and
gods, oxen on the way to sacrifice,stat
ues of the deities Dionysius, Prome
theus, Hermes, Demeter, Zeus, Ilera,
Poseidon; in one frieze twelve divini
ties, centaurs in battle; weaponry from
Marathons; chariot of night; chariot
of the morning; horses of the sun, the
fates the furies; statue of Jupiter
holding in his right hand the thunder
bolt: silver-footed chair in which
Xerxes watched the battle of Sal amis
only a few miles away. Here is the
colossal statue of Minerva in full ar
mor. eyes of gray colored stone; figure
of a Sphinx on her head.griffins by her
side (which are lions with eagle's beak)
j spear in one hand, statue of Liberty in
i the other, a shield carved with battle
scenes, and even the slippers sculp
tured and tied on with thongs of gold.
Far out at sea the sailors saw this sta
tue of Minerva rising high above all
the temples, glittering in the sun.
Here are statues of equestrians,
statue of a lioness, and there are the
Graces, and yonder a horse in bronze.
There is a statue said in the time of
Augustus to have of its own accord
turned around from east to west and
spit blood; statues made out of shields
conquered in battle; statue of Apollo,
the expeller of locusts; statue of Ana
creon, drunk and singing; statue of
Olympodorus, a Greek, memorable for
tlie fact that he was cheerful when
others were cast down, a trait worthy
of sculpture. Hut, walk on and around
the Acropolis, and yonder you see a
statue of Iiygeia, and the statuo of
Theseus fighting the Minotaur and the
statue of Hercules slaying serpents.
No wonder that Petronius said it was
easier to find a god than a man in Ath
ens. Oh. the Acropolis! The most of
its temples and statues made from the
marble quarries of Mount Pentelicum,
a littte way from the city. I have
here on my table a block of the Par
thenon made out of this marble, and
on it is the sculpture of Phidias, I
brought it from the Acropolis. This
speciman has on it the dust of ages,
and the marks of explosion and battle,
but you can get from it some idea of
the delicate lustre of the Acropolis
when it was covered with a mountain
of this marble cut into all the exqui
site shapes that genius could contrive
and striped with silver and aflume
with gold. The Acropolis in the morn
ing light of those ancients must have
shone as though it were an aerolite
cast oft from the noonday sun. The
temples must liavo looked" like petri
fied foam, The whole Acropolis must
have seemed like the white breakers of
the great ocean of time.
»> nat 1 nave so lar said in this dis
course was necessary in order that you
may understand the boldness, the de
fiance, the holy recklessness, the mag
nificence of Paul's speech. The first
thunderbolt he launched at the oppo
site ohili—the Acropolis—that mo
ment all aglitter with idols and tem
ples. He cries out. “God who made
the world.” Why, they thought that
Prometheus made it, that Mercury
made it, that Apollo made it, that
Poseidon made it, that Eros made it,
that Pandrocus made it, that lloreas
made it, that it took all the gods of
the Parthenon, yea, all the gods and
goddesses of the Acropolis to make it,
and here stands a man without any eccle
siastical title, neither a D. D., nor even
a reverend, declaring that the world
was made by the Lord of heaven and
esrth, and hence the inference that all
the splendid covering of the Acropolis,
so near that all the people standing on
the steps of the Parthenon could hear
it, was a deceit, a falsehood, a sham, a
blasphemy. Look at the faces of his
auditors; they are turning pale, and
then red, and then wrathful^ There
had been several earthquakes in that
region; but that was the severest shock
these men had ever felt. The Persiaus
had bombarded the Acropolis from the
heights of Mars Hill, but this Pauline
bombardment was greater and more
terrific. “What,” said his hearers,
‘•have we been hauling with many
yokes of oxen for centuries these
blocks from the quarries of Mount
Pentelicum, and have we had our
architects putting up these structures
of unparalleled splendor, and have we
had the greatest of all sculptors.
j Phidias, with his men chiselling away
at those wondrous ncdiiuents, and cut
ting away at these friezes, and have
we taxed the nation's resources to the
utmust, now to be told that those
statutes see nothing, hear nothing,
know nothing?-’ Oh, Paul stop for a
moment and give these startled audi
tors time to catch their breath!
But surclv the preacher on tlio pul
pit of rock on Mars Hill will stop now.
Ills audience can endure no more. Two
thunderbolts are enough. No, in the
same breath he launches the third
thunderbolt, which to them is more
fiery, more terrible, more demolishing
than the others, as he erics out: ’‘hath
made of one blood all nations." Oh,
Paul! You forget you are speaking to
the proudest and most exclusive aud
ience in the world. Do not say "of
one blood.” You cannot mean that.
Had Socrates, and Plato, and Demos
thenes, and Solon, and Lycurgus, and
Draco, and Sophocles, and Kuripedes,
and vEschylus, and Pericles, and Phi
dias, and Miltiades blood just like the
Persians, like the Turks, like tho
Egyptians, like the common herd of
humanity? “Yes,” says Paul, ‘‘of one
blood, all nations.”
surely that must be the closing par
agraph of the sermon. Ills auditors
must be let up from the nervous strain.
Paul has smashed the Acropolis and
smashed the national pride of the
(•reeks, and what u ore can he say?
Those Grecian orators, standing on
that place, always closed their ad
dresses with something sublime and
climacteric, a peroration, and Paul is
going to give them a peroration which
will eclipse in power and majesty all
that he has yet Baid. Heretofore he
has hurled one thunderbolt at a time;
now he will close by hurling two at
once. The little old man under the
power of his speech has straightened
himself up and the stoop has gone out
of his shoulders and he looks about
three feet taller than when he began
and his eyes, which were quiet, became
two flames of fire, and his face,
which was calm in the introduc
tion, now depicts a whirl
wind of emotion as he ties the two
thunderbolts together with a cord of
inconsumable courage and hurls them
at the crowd now standing or sitting
aghast—the two thunderbolts of resur
rection nnd lust judgment, llis clos
ing words were: “because he hath ap
pointed a day, in the which He will
judge the world in righteousness by*
that man whom lie hath ordained;
whereof he hath given assurance unto
all men in that lie hath raised him
from the dead.” Remember those
thoughts were to them novel and prov
ocative; that Christ, the despised Na
arine, would come to be their judge,
and they should have to get up out of
their cemeteries to stand before him
and take their eternal doom. Might
iest burst of elocutionary power ever
heard. The ancestors of some of those
Greeks had heard Demosthenes in his
oration on the crown, had heard .dea
dlines in his speech against Timarclius
and Ctesipbon, had heard Plato in his
great argument for immortality of the
soul, had heard Socrates on ,his death
bed, suicidal cup of hemlock in hand,
leave his hearers in emotion too great
to bear, had in the theater of Dionysius
at the foot of Acropolis (the ruins of
its niled-up amphitheater and the
marble floor of its orchestra still there)
seen enacted the tragedies of .Kchylus
nnd Sophocles, but neither had the
ancestors of these Grecians on Mars
Hill, or themselves, ever heard or wit
nessed such tornadoes of moral power
as that with which Paul now whelmed
bis hearers. At those two thoughts of
resurrection and judgment the audi
ence sprang to their feet Some
moved they adjourn to some other
day to hear more on the
same tlieiue, but others would
have torn the sacred orator to
pieces. The record savs: "Some
mocked. 1 suppose it means that they
mimicked the solemnity of his voice,
that they took off his impassioned ges
ticuiation. and they cried out: “Jew!
Jew! Where did you study rhetoric'.’
You ought to hear our orators speak!
You had better go back to your busi
ness of tent-making. Our Lycurgus
knew more in a minute than you will
know in a month. Say, where did you
get that crooked backhand those weak
eyes from? Ha! Ha! You try to teach
us Grecians! What nonsense you talk
about when you speak of resurrection
and judgment. Now. little old man.
climb down the side of Mars Hill and
get out of sight as soon as possible.’’
"Some mocked.” Hut. that scene ad
journed to the day of which the sacred
orator had spoken—the day of resur
rection and judgment.
As in Athens, that evening in 18S9,
we climbed down the pile of slippery
rocks, where all this hud occurred, on
our way back to our hotel, I stood half
way between the Acropolis and Mars
Hill in the gathering shadows of even
tide, I seemed to hear those two hills
in sublime and awful converse. “I am
chiefly of the past.” said the Acropolis.
"I am chiefly of the future,” replied
Mars Hill. “My orators are dead. My
law-givers are dead. My poets are
dead. My architects are dead. My
sculptors are dead. I am a monument
of the dead past. I shall never again
hear a song sung. I will never
again see a column lifted. I
will never again behold a god
dess crowned.” Mars Hill responded:
“I, too, have had a history. 1 had on
my heights warriors who will never
again unsheath the sword, and judges
who will never again utter a doom,
and orators who will neveragain make
a plea. Hut my influence is to be more
in the future than it ever was in the
past. The words that missionary,
Haul, uttered that exciting day in the
hearing of the wisest men and the
populace on my rocky shoulders, have
only begun their majestic roll; the
brotherhood of man, and the Christ of
God, and the peroration of resurrec
tion and last judgment with which the
Tarsian orator closed his sermon that
day amid the mocking crowd, shall vet
revolutionize the planet. Oh, Acro
polisj 1 have stood here long enough
I to witness that your gods are no gods
| at all. Your lioreas could not control
j the wind. Your Neptune could not
manage the sea. Your Apollo never
evoked a musical note. Your god
Ceres never grew a harvest. Your
goddess of wisdom, Minerva, never
knew the Greek alphabet Your Jupi
ter could not handle the lightnings
Hut the God whom I proclaimed on the
day when Paul preached before the
astounded assemblage on my rough
heights, is the God of music, the God
of wisdom, the God of power, the God
of mercy, the God of love, the God of
storms, the God of sunshine, the God
sf the land, and the God of the sea
the God over all, blessed forever.”
Then, the Acropolis spake and said, aa
though in self-defence: “My Plato ar
gued for the immortality of the soul,
and my Socrates praised virtue, and
my Miltiades at Marathon drove back
the Persian oppressors.” “Yes,” said
Mars Hill, “your Plato laboriously
guessed at the immortality of the soul,
but my Paul, divinely inspired, de
ejared it as a fact straight from God.
Your Socrates praised virtue, but ex
pired as a suicide.
As that night in Athens I put my
tired head on my pillow, and the ex
citing scenes of thoday passed through
my mind, 1 thought on the same sub
ject on which as a boy I made my com
mencement speech in Niblo's theatre
on graduation day from the New York
university, viz: “The moral effects of
sculpture and architecture,” but fur
| ther than 1 could have thought in boy
! hood, X thought in Athens that night
I that the moral effects of architecture
I and sculpture depend on what you do
in great buildings after they are put
up, and upon the character of the men
whose forms you cut in the marble:
yea! I thought that night what strug
j gles the martyrs went through in order
that in our time the Gospel might have
full swing; and I thought that night
what a brainy religion it must be that
could absorb a hero like him whom we
have considered today, a man the su
perior of the whole human race, the in
fidels but pigmies or homunculi com
pared with him; and I
thought what a rapturous con
sideration it is that through the
same grace ,that saved Paul, we
shall confront this great Apostle, and
shall have the opportunity, amid the
familiarities of the skies, of asking
him what was the greatest occasion of
all his life, lie may say: “The ship
j wreck of Melita." He may say: “The
i riot at Ephesus. ” He may say: “My
I last walk on the road to Ostia.” Hut,
j I think he will say: “The day I stood
I on Mars Hill addressing the indignant
Areopagites, and looking off upon the
towering form of the goildess Minerva,
and the majesty of the Parthenon, and
all the brilliant divinites of the Acro
polis. That account in the Hible was
true. My spirit was stirred within me
when I saw the city wholly given up to
idolatry!”
A WILD MAN OF NATAL.
I Captured Aftwr'an ICxcltlnc nice Amine
| llncki and Cam.
I A certain Cecil Yongc possesses a
| farm situated on the Inhlvcn peak,
wtiicii is 7.000 feet above the level of
the sou. Karly last neck Mr. Yonge's
shepherd, a native, it must be borue in
mind, happened to be on the peak
j after sundown, when he “perceived
the reflection of a light appearing
from nmid a huge jumble of rock and
wild scrub." says the’Cape Times. He
also distinctly heard what he after
ward described as “a weird jabber,
half scream, half song, apparently
emanating from the bowels of .the
groat mountain.” The native, as may
be imagined, made tracks for the
homestead, wiiere he duly arrived,
“breathless and terror-stricken.” Mr.
Yonge. anxious for :rriventme. cred
i ited his herd's story, and next morn
ing. accompanied by a force of mount
ed police nod a posse of native; and
dogs, set out for the scene of adven
ture, wi'ich locality we are assured
“was the haunt a few years since of
wild I leasts innumerable and ot the
depredating hushmen in particular,
traces of whom are to this day to bo
found all over the farm.”
After several hours of diligent search
amid heaps of hones, meallio cobs,
many of last year's growth, feathers,
rags ami old sacking, old tins, roughly
hewn stone dishes cut in the ledges of
the rocks ami rolling sheepskins tho
still smoldcriug embers of the over
night tire were discovered. The air
was simply sickening and the stench
almost unbearable, for what with the
moldering bones and heaps of putrid
skins, many began to grow nervous
and faint, and an unexpressed fear of
losing their way caused general un
easiness. Yap! jap! sounded the shrill
echo of a terrier's exeited bark as lie
came back to liis masters territied and
angry. From point to point, passage
to passage, cave to cave, then com
menced one of thb weirdest chases
Hint man ever experienced, amid the
midnight-like gloom of those lantern
lighted caverns. Scramble and scurrv
from ledge to ledge careered an un
known inhabitant of llie eaves. He
was driven to bay in the farthermost
corner of the vault. He was a wild
mau of the caves—his eyes glaring
like a wildcat’s, his teeth chattering
will* fear; there he lay wallowing iit
terror. To secure him* was the work
of a few moments, though not before
ho had left sundry nasty marks with
his teeth in the fleshy part of onu
native's thigh. It was no easv task,
so to speak, to living him to la ml.
llow Serpents Move.
King Solomon acknowledged that
there were "three things which are
too wonderful for mo—yea. four, wliieli
I know not,” and one of these was
••tile way of a serpent upon n rock.”
For hundreds of years after the lime
of Solomon the snake’s mode of pro
gression remained a mystery. Latter
day men of science have learned that
his snakuship's rilis furnish him with a
means of progression. So. instead ot
having a pair or two pairs of "feet.”
they really have from lot) to 200 pairs
Aristotle thought that serpents had as
many ribs as lucre are days in a month,
hut laid he examined a pi llion ho
would have readily detected his mis
take. that species having 400. Snakes
move in this way: Each vertebra sup
ports a pair of ribs, which act like a
pair of legs, the extremities being con
nected by a broad plate. The hind
part of this plate is free, anil when the
ribs are moved forward that end is
raised so that it lakes hold of the sur
face underneath, even though it lui
glass, the straightening of the reptile
propelling it forward.—St. Louis It
itubiic.
An Dnnanal Sight.
It is unusual to see grain standing
in the iield ready to cut while three
inches of snow covers the ground.
3ut this couhl have been seen on the
1st day of October, 1831, in Suake
itiver valley. Idaho.
THE SHIRT FINISHER*
& And Recital by • Poor 6lrt Who U
OliII(etl to l)o Good Work for Poor
Pay.
••I don't know what I am going to do
ifcout it.” said the shirt-tinisher. "My
room-mates vow they won’t consent to
aave the alarm clock go off at half
past ft in the morning. You see all
;hrce of ’em are salesladies and so they
ran afford to lie abed till nearly 7,
while I ought to be up as soon as I* can
tec to work, though for the life of me,
I can not wake without the alarm. I’d
rather sew late at night, so as to sleep
the next, morning, but my room-mates
won’t agree to my having a candle, as
they say the light keeps them awake;
so I am sometimes left in the dark, in
the middle of a button-hole, when the
gas is turned off at half-past 10. I
don’t sew og buttons in my dreams, ns
that woman done in the ‘Song of the
Shirt’ (I heard it read at a club meet
ing;. but it would bo a great saving of
time if I could sew them on in the
dark. _ By working early and late I
can’t finish more than 5 shirts a day—
when they are custom shirts I do
four—and as the highest pay at the
place where I work is $1.50 a dozen,
l consider myself in luck when I can
pay my board, $8, at the end of the
week. For stock shirts I get only $1 a
.1oy.cn. and when business ain't brisk,
of course, I get more stocks than any
;hing else.
‘•I could do an awful lot more if I
(Tits Allowed to slight iny work, like
jirls who linish cheap jerseys. The
buttons drop off my j'ersey’s the first
rime I fasten ’em. but no such work as
:hat is put on shirts. It ain’t poor
work, poor pay with me, but good
work, poor pay. The overlooker at
»ur place, though she wears glasses,
has got the eyes of a hawk, and in the
button-holes the stitches have to be just
<o close together, and the hemming in
die gussets has to be almost as nice as
what would bo put on a pocket hand
kerchief; the buttons must be sewed on
hard and tight: and as for the eyelets,
they are just the torment of my life,
they have to lie worked so awfully
round and smooth. I always dread to
get a set of shirts with eyelets in ’em
because tiien I am sure "to be found
fault with when I hand my work in—
sometimes I get ’em too large and
sometimes too small. I don’t have
that trouble with button-holes, because
I hey are cut for me.
• Supplied with thread and needles?
t’hat we ain’t! We buy our own
thread and needles, and it counts up in
-»nd 1 can tell you. That’s all I do
buy >-nvadays, and it often comes out
of my board money. As for having
ray washing done, I just told the super
intendent of the home where I live that
I just couldn’t afford it, and so there
lias been an exception made in
my favor, and I am allowed to go into
(lie laundry and wash my own duds,
it’s against the rules for the other
boarders to do it, though they all like
lo no matter how much they may’ earn.
The girls in my room are always wash
ing their handkerchiefs and such things,
mil hanging them behind their wash
‘lands where they think they won't be
seen.
■•Why do I work for so little? Well.
t:i a week is better than no dollars a
week, and as I ain't got nobody to look
to for support, I have to catch on to
any work that comes along. Relations?
None nearer than cousins, and they
don’t amount to much—at least, mine
don't. Why a cousin of mine, whose
husband earns his $3 a day as a painter,
invited me to do my’ washing at her
house (that was before I got permission
to do it at the home) and afterwards
fell out with me. and made me pay for
tiie coal I had burned in heating my
TOtlS.
“The girls in my room tell me that
1 could never get a place in a store be
muse I am not tall enough; but if I
could once lay up money enough to
pay my board for a week or two I’d
tramp up and down the city till I found
a place where they would take me. I
was in a store once around the holi
days, when there was a lot of t.xtra
hands needed, and I tell you it was a
satisfaction to bring home my $5 every
Saturday night! It’s au awful mis
fortune to be so short when a girl has
her own living to make. If I was six
inches taller I'd be earning almost half
as much again as I am now, for I aiu’t
one of the stuck-up sort who think
they are put behind a counter only’ to
show off their bangs aud their bangles.
I made a lot of sales when I worked as
an extta. and I could do it again as a
'tegular hand if tne storekeepers could
only get over my being short. I get
out of all patience when I hear a girl
whining aud saying she don’t see why
she has to work. Why work is what I
want, and the only thing that I do
■want. If I could earn $5 a week at
shirt-finishing. I’d be willing to keep
at it till I was too old to thread a
needle. It's only work that doesn't
pay enough to keep me that I don’t
like. On $;> a week 1 could live like a
lady; three lor my board; one to put
aside for my dress; and one for
my other expenses. Any girl that’s
got the knack of fixing things can
dress decent on $50 a year, but it’s
awful hard to do it on nothing.”—N.
T. Tribune.
The largest tombstone in the work’
(monuments erected to distinguished
persons excepted) is probably that oJ
the late Henry Scarlett of Upsor
county, Georgia. Suurlett ivas verv
wealthy, and noted for his misan
thropic tendencies. He led the life 01
a hermit. Why, no one knew, but il
was hinted that he was a victim of dis
appointed love. Several years befoxv
his death, which occurred in tin
spring of 1888. he solected a monstei
bowlder, a miniature mountain <>•
granite;, 100x250 feet in dimensions
for a tombstone, and had it appropri
ately lettered by a marble cutter. A
cave fitted up as a roomy tomb wai
excavated under the huge bowlder
Scarlett himself superintending thi
work. After his death neighbors, ro
latives, and friends carried the re
mains and deposited them under tin
rock according to ante-mortem direc
tions, and to-day the mortal parts o
Heury Scarlett repose under the ntos
gigantic tombstone in the world.
The genuine young shaver is a bar*
ber s baby.
Thmt AU.
Weary Clerk (after cutting off t
ty-flTe sample* of dress good.w,„
all, madam? 1
Miss Grabbe—tJm—I would in,,
more samples. My mother *
ticular. Cut me off a piece
roll under your hand. ** ronUhEt
Little Sister (loudly)—Wfcw
that won’t do at alL Mother said °i1’
wasn't going- to have any blue in
crazy quilt, ’cause it always f adeV^
Chile is a great country for „
papera There are more than i0TtrZ
them in Valparaiso and Santiago
there are others in all the head low *
of departments. Chile has many lit?
ary men, including a regiment of poTtl'
and also many scientific men and
multitude of statesmen and general.*
The schools are free, and the erh ^
tional system provides for provincial
lyceums, normal schools, an aeS
tural school, schools for the art?
trades, military and naval academhl
and a national university, all ,,I
ported by the government ln aon£
years there have been 1,000 students,!
the Santiago university. ‘
-An industrious hive of Andrewcounty
Missouri, bees lately made a record of
twelve pounds of honey in twelve hpara
g-^rhne is very We among women I.
CQf00<W 09
IPs a sign
that you need help, when pimples,
blotches, and eruptions begin to ap
pear. Tour blood needs looking
after. You’ll have graver matters
than pimples to deal with, if you
neglect it. Dr. Pierce’s Golden
Medical Discovery prevents and
cures all diseases and disorders
caused by impure blood. It invig
orates the liver, purifies the blood,
and promotes all the bodily func
tions. For all forms of scrofulous,
skin and scalp disease, and even
Consumption (which is really lung
scrofula) in all its earlier stages, it
is a certain remedy. It’s the only
one that’s guaranteed, in every case,
to benefit or cure, or the money is
refunded. It’s a tnatter of confi
dence in one’s medicine.
It is the cheapest blood-purifier
sold, through druggists, because you
only pay for the good you get.
Can you ask more?
Tho “ Discovery ” acts equally
well all the year round.
DONALD KENNEDY
Of Roxbury, Mass., says
Kennedy’s Medical Discovery
cures Horrid Old Sores, Deep
Seated Ulcers of 40 years'
standing. Inward Tumors, and
every disease of the skin, ex
cept Thunder Humor, and
Cancer that has taken 100L
Price $i.5o. bold by every
Druggist in the' U. S. and
Camda.
GOLD MEDAL, PARIS, 187&
W. BAKER & CO.’S
Breakfast Cocoa
from which tho excess of oil
has been removed,
la absolutely pure and
it is soluble.
No Chemicals
i nro used in its preparation. It
has more than three time9 the
il strength of Cocoa mixed with
n Btsrch, Arrowroot or Sugar,
II nnd is therefore far more eco
II nomical, costing Use than one
LJ cent a cup. It is delicious, nour
^ l ishing, strengthening, basili
digested, and admirably adapted for Invalid*
aa well as for persona in health.
Sold by Grocers everywhere.
W. BAKER & CO., Dorchester, Mass.
PILES
ASAKKSIS divesinf*0*
relief, end 19 id
BLE ( UHE for rlLtS.
Price. *li »t Juicin'"
br meil. Be «T>lc« (™"|
Add re-9 " ANA KK'IS.
BoxSIlO. Nkw Yobe Citi.
_ ebeeeeee We want a wide awake..
$150 to$200
A MONTH.
out. Adapt.M to town or country. No patent
medicine or cheap jewelry. Sphmdid^penunM^
the richt person. Good Job* are -^n,,
and don't wait lonsr for inter*.
you can spare hut a few h«mr> a week, ww
nnn. t. D P IflllMunU A /’II RlchniOtOl.
once to B. F. JOHNSON A CO.. oa
for information about the blffffc** * „,5.nd
earth—something that will opeu youre}<9R
keep them 01
Pannsylvania Agricultural Woita, tori:,:
Pumnhsr'i fttntidapfl F.nsiMl ftnd SaW »
Farquhar’s Standard Engines and Saw " ,01
Tend for Catalogue. Portable, .^i
■ j ▲ Mnnd Automatic En«iaeaa*J*L
'Ji.A-K7Vlw.rrEO tod «oual or aaperi
Add re«a
p*ROI H*B«l'r0- '*
|(J|J||E«1I
.SSSSsS
train. Med cinen m to cure “ffiu’THKiTUiJ®
M-NO ONE ELSE HASTU18
I>R. U FRANK TOMI-I V-ii,^lna.
and OMo Straat*. - Xcrre iun**