V
7
y
I
litest
Copyright. 18M,by
the Author.)
, HE often eat to
Williot; he
liked her ex
pression and
the Italian
tone in her
color. More
over, he grew interested in her from
certain words and hints she let fall.
She was a devout Catholic, but ad
mitted she had not always been so.
One day Williot led her on step by
Step to tell her story, and how she had
become devout. They were discussing
matrimony in the abstract, and she ap
peared so conversant with the law be
tween man and wife that he asked
her how she knew it.
"How did I come to know the law?"
said she. "Well, because you see I
was brought up behind the scenes
born in the property room of a provin
cial theater, and educated to emerga
gracefully from pantomime pies or
gigantic rosebuds as a diminutive
lairy. With this refined birth and
training1 I learned many thing's not
generally imparted to children. At
any rate, very early 1 knew that a man
could legally chastise his wife, 60 Ions'
as he never struck her with a stick
thicker than your little finger. I knew
this, 1 say, because I heard it explained
by the lawyers when my father was
sent to jail for having beaten my
mother with something- a good deal
thicker than the prescribed dimensions
permitted."
Williot smiled and suggested that
that edifying- spectacle had apparently
not deterred her from taking- a hus
band herself.
"No," she answered, "and I was only
seventeen when I did marry."
"How di& that come about?"
"Because I was a self-willed young
fool, and I thought I loved the other
self-willed young- fool, who was our
assistant scene painter. I was playing
general utility in the theater, and he
was paintings general utility, as you
mig-ht call it."
"Did yon love him then?" interposed
Williot.
"Yes. I say so, but I g-ot to hate him
as well. Love and hate seemed ever
to g-o hand in hand with me all through.
First one was uppermost, then the
other. A contradictory, violent-tern
rered vouni wretch I was. 1 never
tried to control my passions I'd never
been taught. My mother always said
I never had a heart; perhaps she was
right."
"Tell me, why did you hate your
husband?"
"Because I found he had a stronger
will than I had. and because he grew
to be more savage and morose as he g-ot
on in his profession, oddlv enough. Be
cause, too, he was as artful as he was
handsome; and he knew the law bet- i
ter than my father. He never struck
me with a stick at all, thick or thin,
but once, and that once settled the
business, but I shall come to that pres
ently. Yes, he was a clever fellow,
too, in his art. He gave up scene
painting and painted pictures instead
that sold at high prices. He used to
make me sit as his model often, and I
hated that more than anything. You
may wonder that I didn't run away
from him long before 1 did. The truth
is I was afraid of him. He cowed the
very life out of me. At one time he
made a lot of money, but he couldn't
keep it. and finally we had to go abroad
to avoid creditors.
"We went to Rome, and lived there
several years. In those days an artist
could live there very cheaply, as we
did. but still he got into debt again,
and for months he was afraid to show
himself by daylight. You can guess
how we carried on, and if you can't it
won't matter, and so, as I've told you
60 much, I'll come to that last scene
between us, which, as I say, settled
the business. I seemed to be quick at
languages, and picked up a good smat
tering of Italian, and being 6till pret
ty he made me sit as a model for other
painters in order sometimes to get
food. He even went so far, and I
didn't mind, as to make me go and
wait in the Piazza di Spagna, on hire
with the native models. At first they
were inclined to resent Sig. In
glese's intrusion on their domain, but
they were good-natured people, and
put up with me after awhile.
"He was in hiding at that time, and
1 had to go to and from home with the
(greatest care, so as not to betray our
whereabouts. My training on the
stage, and then as a model, made me
pretty nimble at disguises and wear
ing strange dresses, and when I went
on hire to the piazza.
"We lived in a curious half-ruined
place, part of what had once been the
chapel of a Benedictine monastery. We
hired it of a kindly old monk for a song.
but no one lse lived in the building
we were there quite alone. I forget
exactly where it was, but it was out
side the citv, on the edge of the Cam
pagna. We had a small room where
he painted, with part of it divided by
a curtain where we slept. At the foot
of the short stone stair leading up to
this apartment from the outer door,
another stone stair led down to a sort
of vault or crypt, lighted up ly a
barred window. At the end of this
were the remains of a little shrine,
with a dilapidated figure of the Vir
gin, sud on one side, against the wall
a stone bench. It was what he called
s picturesque bit, and he made a study
of it.
'.'About this time it was Christmas
a notorious bi'jand chief had been
captvrcd. and was brought to. Rome,
secured hand and foot, amidst tremen
dous excitement. It gave my husband
an idea for a subject: 'The Wounded
Brigand in Hiding.' He depicted the
id an lying with head bound up, etc.
In tfchi crypt, with the wife kneelir
:!E"!TAaw
the bottom of tbe hole and fred from
the bottom. Tbe exDlosi On t iroir j-
of the well a mimhpr of nic a
v . . T v
be fore th shrine with np-etretched
arms and clasped hands in the attitude
of supplication. The background was
all there to his hand without stirring
out of doors, and I, of course, had to
sit or kneel as the praying wife. With
out exception it was the most trying-,
tiring attitude I had ever assumed.
My knees and back lost all sensation,
and the uplifted arms simply seemed to
go dead after half an hour. Why
didn't I rest? yon will ask. Be
cause I daren't till he gave me leave.
The crosses of our fortunes had turned
him into a regular savage, and he was
at his worst while painting this pic
ture. For hours he kept me kneeling"
there day after day. Once I grew
faint, but luckily just then he saidt
'You can rest, so he didn't know It.
Another time when my hands and arms
were all pins and needles,' I pleaded
for a pause. He refused it. I went
on. Then I couldn't help saying a
little. He swore at me. I steadied
mj-se.lf. At last, without any warning
or will of mine, my arms dropped on
my lap, and I fell forward, my chin on
the altar. With a big oath he rose
furious.
"louve ruinea my wont, you
devil!' he cried, 'just at a most critical
point, when I was finishing your left !
hand. Up again instantly or I'll be
the death of you,' and he roughly j
placed me in the old attitude.
"Ten minutes later the same thing
happened. I couldn't help it. Again
he rose, and this time he struck me
violently across the back and shoulders
with his mahl stick, which was no
thicker than his finger. This was the
first time he'd ever struck me badly as
he'd behaved, and it was the last. I
never loved him after that. No, kind
heaven never gave me the chance, for !
after the blow I did faint, and when I I
recovered I was lying where I fell. He
had not even lifted me from the
ground. No, but he had stretched
himself at full length upon the stone .
bench, and was sound asleep.
"Escape was my first thought re- ;
venge the second and as I stood up,
the second overwhelmed the first.
Noiselessly I crept to where lay, amidst
many studio properties, the brigand's
poignard. Often I hc-d dreamt of this,
and ad seen it glitter in my hand, bnt
in the dreams opportunity was want
ing. Now, both were realities. I would
use them mercilessly. Night was com
ing on. I could escape under its cover.
Whither to fly, or how to live after
wards, I gave these things no thought
as I stood with the weapon raised
above his naked throat. Did I lack
c our ape? No. sincerely no. What, then,
made me suddenly pause and listen?
Footsteps? Y'es, faint and distant on
the road, running near our abode.
Alone, they would not have deterred
me, but above them rose upon the still
ness a chant a chant from some re
ligious procession, pilgrims probably,
passing towards the city to do homage
at the shrine of the Holy Bambino in
I CREPT TO WHERE HE LAT.
the church of Ara Cceli, for was it not
Christmas E?e? The sounds came
nearer. Full, strong, melodious deep
ly impressive.
"Stranger that I had ever been to
religion and its emotions, it was
odd how, whan I came to Rome, a faint
suggestion of something akin to them
had gradually stolen into my being. I
think the music in the churches did it,
and many times I would have gone in
to listen, perhaps to pray, had I known
how, and had I dared. My husband
was a scoffer.
"The singers approached until 1 could
almost hear some of the Latin words.
It seemed miraculous even to myself
that they should affect me as they
were doing. I strained my cars to
catch the prayer. Strange it would
have been at any moment that it should
have so fascinated me, but now most of
all strange when my blood was red
hot with fury and passion; and when
revenge for all my wrongs was lying
within my grasp! Was it intercession
from above, an intercession for hia
life? It struck me so at the moment!
Only later did I see. perhaps that it
was an intercession on my behalf also,
but at the time I never thought of this,
and I spared him. I paused no longer.
Turning my back resolutely on the
temptation. I stole away up the stairs,
softly, softly out under the stars now
beginning to twinkle in thir myriads.
I followed the procession, and mixed
amongst the little crowd of villagers
also following.
"That night I 6ought the old monk,
our padrone, and told him my story.
He wns moved, and said the Blessed
Virgin had performed a miracle and
had taken me to her bosom, heretics
though I was, for she saw in me a soul
IO oe saved. 1 now Know tie was
right.
"By his aid I concealed myself from
my husband, but there was no need fc
do so long. The saints, their names be
praised, had yet another blessing in
store for me. They had net only res
cued me from the commission of a
dreadful crime but they spared me its
necessity. Three days later the good
old monk went to our rooms, and
found yes! found my husband still
stretched as in sleep upon the stone
bench as I left him. but he was in the
sleep from which there is no waking.
"The story is still cited as a miracle,
and, although it is a long- time since it
happened, the few good Catholics
amongst the painters still use me by
preference a their modal on its ao
eounU"
of a real court.
-a- r
I i.l r . L .
iw nprse oiaad oljohn-
. : m
OVER-JUMPED BY A LION.
The Man
Saved His Life and
the Boost
Missed a Meal.
As to grizzly bears," said a Montana
man one evening, recently, ''as to griz
zly bears, we've got plenty of 'em left
in our country, but unless you are look
ing for them you might travel the trails
and byways for five years and not get
sight of old Ephriam. As big and sav
age as they are they avoid mankind
when it's possible. I've heard 'em mov
ing off in the thickets many a rime as )
rode along a wild trail, but in fifteen
years I have had a -fair sight of only
one. and he was anxious to get away.
"How about the mountain lion?"' wa
asked.
"Ah; you've struck quite another
field now," he replied. The mountain
lion of the far west is not a lion at all,
as you probably know, but is the beast
known in the east as the panther. I
think, however, the western panther
is larger and fiercer. At any rate, all
things considered, I'd prefer to face a
grizzly."
"Ever had any experience?"
"Yes, just one, and it makes my hair
stand, on end to think of it. I'm half
owner of a good, big herd of steers, but
I wouldn't go through that experience
again for a thousand of the fattest,
juiciest steers ever rounded up in the
cattle country. You want to hear
about it, but it's no use to get out your
book and pencil. My experience
was very brief, and there are no
names and dates to put down. Look on
the map some day and find Flat Head
lake. Between it and the Rockv moun
tains is a beautiful valley thirtv miles I
wide. I've wintered cattle in there and
had them come out as fat as butter in
the spring."
"Yes, go on."
'One spring, eight or ten years ago,
I was driving in some 'strays' from the
foothills. 'When cattle begin to shed
their coats they like to get into the tim
ber and rub themselves. About ten
o'clock in the forenoon I was riding
along an Indian trail on the slope of a
hill. It was in the timber, with lots of
brush covering the ground. I saw cattle
tracks on the trail, and had no thought
for anything else. My mustang was
on the walk and I was taking it easy
in the saddle, when I was suddenly
jumped out of my boots. Something
screamed in my ear, and out of the cor-
ner of my eye I saw something in the j
air. No doubt I ducked, but it was in- J
stinct. In the same breath there was j
a great crash in the top of. a brush to ,
my right and below me, and just as my
mustang started on a wild run I made
out what the object was."
"A mountain lion, sir?"'
"Yes, and a whopping biff one, and
the snarls, growls and screams he ut
tered -.lifted me in av stirrups. He
landed in that bush cn his back, with I
his legs sticking up like posts, but I
don't reckon it took h'm over five sec- I
onds to turn rightsidc up. He may j
have started to follow me, though he
was more apt to slink away, but the
mustang would have given him a hard
race. He was wild with fright, and the
l way he did smoke along that trail and
get down into the valley would have
made a jack-rabbit wonder how the
I wings were fastened on. I held on
j and let him go. As a matter of fact,
! he wasn't going fast enough for me."
"The lion had jumped for you."
I "He had. my boy. I went up and
figured it out afterward. The beast
had crouched on a big rock eighteen
feet above me and about twenty-four
feet above the trail. J ust how close he
came to me I can't say, but I'm cer
tain that he brushed my hat as he
passed over The duck probably saved
my life. If he had struck me with the
momentum of such a spring I'd have
been carried out of the saddle into the
bushes. The cuss was lying low for
beef or deer, but when I came along he
thought he had a better thing. As he
missed me he turned over in the air,
and as I told you, he landed wrong-side
up. I don't know how mountain lions
feel alout such things, but I've always
had the idea that this fellow went off
kicking himself over the way he got
left. He had overjumped a good dinner
and couldn't blame anybody but him
self." Detroit Free Iress-
Flint and Tinder Still Died.
Although the match has long since
supplanted the tinder box, thousands
of the antlqated light producers are
still made. Adventurers often take a
flint and tinder box with them on trips,
knowing from experience that if slower
than a match it is certainly surer, and
in addition to the demand this creates,
there are back country regions in Eu
rope where the match is comparatively
unknown, even now. Then again the
white man with his usual ultra sensa.
tiveness does not see any harm in ship
ping tinder boxes, and even the oldest
kinds of gun flints to the savages ol
Africa, who derive sincere delight from
using them, especially as the traders
are careful to explain that the one is t.Q
improvement on the match and the
other a great stride toward perfectior
in firearms. Chicago Herald.
A Terrible Ivicke
"Please cir," ea id the bell boy to a
Texas hotel clerk, "number 40 says
there ain't no towels in his room."
"Tell him to use one of the window
curtains."
"He says, too, there ain't no pil
lows." "Tell him to put his coat and vest
under his head."
"And he wants a pitcher of water."
"SufTring Cyrus! But he is 1he
worst kicker I ever struck in my life.
Carry him up the horse pail."
"He wants to know if he can have a
light."
"Here, confound him! Give him this
lantern and ask him if he wants the
earth, and if he'll have it fried on only
one side or turned over?" Alex Sweet,
in Texas Sif tings.
Popular Productions.
"I'm not much of a literary man my
self," said the cashier of the big pub
lishing house, filling out anothcr-check.
"and yet my writings are more sought
after than those of any other mas
about the ast&blLJuneat. -Chicag-c
Tribune.
inj:sries wiil re.suU seriouslv.
Japanese Liver Pellets are small,
A COLLEGE-BRED FARMER,
He Thinks that Work In the Fields U tlU
Ideal Existence.
William Henry Bishop, in an article
on "Hunting an Abandoned Farm is
Upper New England," describes the de
lightful home of a literary man and his
family on the shores of Lake Winipiseo
gee. The house was simplicity itself,
he says, rather a camp than a villa, and
it purposely bld as little as possible to
give a houseLeeper any uneasiness.
A son of tLe family above adverted to
was settled about as far from Center
Harbor, down Lake Asquam, as was his
father f r m it on Lake Winipiseogee.
His pastures rose steeply to the bold
crag of Red hill; in front of him lay
long, slender islands, like black steam
ers at anchor, and across the lake rose
upon the view Black mountain, White
face, Rattlesnake hill, and Chocorua.
varying all their tones with the
passing hours. The young pro
prietor was a college man, and
had pursued for awhile some
city occupation; but he had taken to
farming out of pure love of it, and not
the worst beverities of winter had been
able to daunt him. He hoed with his
men in planting time, pitched hay with
them in haying time, and lugged his
own heavy buckets of sap through the
snow in early spring, in maple-sugar
time. It was a vindication of the ideal,
a testimony to the world of actual,
hard physical labor, which, for us,
despite the disparagement of the indo
lent and the maledictions of the work
ing man who gets something too much
of it is most desirable, a beautiful.
beneficent thing. We please to marvel
when a citv person goes off heartily in
to the country, and yet the following
paradox is true, namely, that it is city
people who are precisely the best-fitted
for the country. Y our average denizen
of the country has no appreciation of
natural scenery, never raises his eyes
to notice it. scarce knows that it exists;
thus he suffers all the disadvantages of
the country without its principal com
pensation' Century.
JOINED IN THE LAUGH.
Jm Bow-legged Admiral Who Was Misunder
stood by a Kulldop.
"Sailors, like horsemen, have a ten
dency to become bow-legged." said
Capt. S. Wooden, an ex-navy othcer, re
cently. "I once saw an old admiral,
whose long sea service had given his
legs a decided outward curvature, have
a singular adventure with a bulldog
that was a pet almard ship. The sail
ors had taken great pains with the
dog's education and taught him a num
ber of tricks. One of his most fre
quent exploits was to jump through the
aperature made by the man holding
one of his feet against the other knee.
It was a trick that the dog seemed
take great delight in performing.
One day the admiral came on
board the ship on a visit of inspec
tion, and while standing on deck con
versing with some of the officers was
spied by the dog. The admiral's bow
legs seemed to strike the dop- as afford
ing the best chance for a running leap
he had seen in many a day. Suddenly
he made a rush and leapt like a whirl
wind through the tempting gap. In
astonishment at what had passed be
neath him, the admiral turned quickly
around to see what was the cause. The
dog took this action as a signal for an
"encore" and jumped again, barking
furiously all th'e time as a means of
showing how he much he enjoyed the
sport. The bewildered face of the ad
miral was too much for the gravity of
the spectators, and. forgetting the re
spect due to rank they broke into a
hearty roar, in wh ch. after he under
stood the situation, they were joined
by the admiral himself." St. Louis
Globe-Democrat.
Cruelty to a Lion.
A lion tamer was brought into court
by the Iloyal Society for the IYevention
of Cruelty to Animals of London on the
charge of "cruelly beating, ill treating
and torturing a certain animal, to-wit,
a lion." Lions were in a cage wherein
a woman executed a serpentine dance,
and were whipped and irritated to a
state of bad temper to make them suffi
ciently wild to gratify the vulgar taste
of the public. The prosecution alleged
that the lion, being dependent on man
foi food and sustenance and under his
dominion, ' could not be regarded as
ferae naturae. The lion tamer hustled
the lions about with a whip and a pole,
in order to give an excitement to the
lady's dance. The judgment of the
court was, that the lion could not be
made into a domestic animal within the
meaning of the act. and the lion tamer
was discharged. Chicago Times.
Hy Merest Chance.
It was a narrow escape.
The strong man shuddered and wiped
the beads of perspiration from his brow.
"Good heavens!" he said; "another
moment and then "
It was several moments before he re
covered sufficiently to resume Lis task.
For once 8 gain he had come within
an ace of dipping the mucilage brush
in the ink. 'Xruth.
During the thirteen years in which
Dr. William Pepper served as provost
of the university of Pennsylvania, he
has not only declined a salary, but has
given the university fro-n twenty thou
sand to thirty thousand dollars a year
besides his time. He says the uni
versity is strong enough now for him
to retire, and he has resumed. A gift
of fifty thousand dollars accompanied
his resignation. The board of trustees
have decided to confer upon him the
degree of LL. D., and to erect a statue
of him on a suitable site.
"Poor man!" exclaimed the sympa
thetic woman. "Have you really tried
to get employment?" "Yes'm," replied
Meandering Mike, "And without sue
cess?" "Intir1y. For three solid days
I've tramped the streets trying ter git
work fur me nine-year-old brother, and
hain't even got so much ez an incour
agin' word." Washington Star.
"Don't yon think Miss Biggs has a
peachy complexion?" She "I'd not
thought of it before, but 6 he has a kiad
of fiost-bitten look." InerOcean.
J. O. Phillipi ntthe Missouri Pacific
has returned to headquarters at O ma
ll i from a tri
FOR SU25 DAY READING.
"FOR MINE OWN SAKE.'
"For my name's sake will I defer mine anper.
For mine own sake, even lor mine own
ake. will I do It." Isaiah xlviii.. a-11.
"For my name's sake will I defer
Mine anger." said the King.
For His name's bake, for His own sake.
Still unfaltering
In His kingly patience. He .
Doth silent wait as then.
Doth silent wait, and silent watch.
This Lord and King of men.
"For my name's sake, for mine own sake:"
Oh wise and subtle speech.
That leadeth us, that sheweth us.
The heicht that we mirht reach;
That height of heights, where Love enthroned,
Keigns sovereign of the soul.
And guides the impulse and the will
With sure and sweet control.
For our own sake, for our soul's sake.
Like Him we may defer
The scathe of even riphteous wralh.
The tumult and the stir
Of angry judgments as they rise.
And, silently and still,
Keep watch and word with Him to puide
The impulse and the will.
Nora Perry, in Youth's Companion.
BITS OF WISDOM.
Short Hint of Troth for Thoughtful Con
sideration. Some time ago I was asked to write
a 6hort article on the difficult subject
of "How to lie Happy, Though Foor;"
and when 1 6et about it. 1 could not
think of anything better than to hand
the applicant a bundle of maxims the
following, for instance, which carry
their own application:
"Good education is the foundation of
happiness."
"A contented mind is a continual
feast."
"Content is the true philosopher's
stone."
"Poverty is a self-instructing virtue."
"Out of debt, out of danger."
"A penny a day is a groat a year."
"Envy can not see; ignorance can not
Judge."
"Labor brings pleasure; idleness
pain."
"Idleness is the parent of want and
shame."
"Virtue alone is happiness below."
These wise axioms call for little com
ment. Get knowledge: cultivate a contented
spirit; keep out of debt; even if your
i income is small, try each day to save a
j little "against a rainy day;" don't
worry at trifles; don't env3; there are
; thousands rolling in luxury who would
: gladly exchange places with you.
j Poverty has its advantages; be industri
, ous; be economical; be cheerful.
Ralph Waldo Emerson savs of Henry
j Thoreau: "He chose to be rich by
! making his wants few and supplying
; them himself." His food for eight
i months while building his house at a
I cott of only sixty-one dollars and nine
I ty-nine and a quarter cents, stood him
: at just eight dollars and seventy-four
! cents, one dollar and a fraction a
month. "1 have," said Thoreau. "made
' a satisfactory dinner satisfactory on
several accounts simply off a dish of
parsley which I gathered in my corn
j field, boiled and salted; and pray what
1 more can a reasonable man desire, in
peaceful times, in ordinary noons than
' a sufficient number of ears of green
i sweet corn boiled with additional
! salt?"
j As a matter of course. self-dnial is
. one of the cardinal virtues which must
j be constantly practiced; and none, rich
or poor, can be truly happy who is not
: honest.
I Mrs. Browning says: "To live in the
' midst of beautiful surroundings that
' is happiness."
As good an illustration of the ques
tion as any may be found in the life of
' a poor Quaker family, whose principal
' means of support consisted of what
they were by industry and frugality
enabled to realize from a small garJen
spot, always noted for its thrift and
neatness. A friend one day asked him
how it was they always appeared to be
so happy and contented? He answered
that he had three wells to which he
went daily for sustenance and support.
Expressing his surprise, his friend
earnestly inquired what they were
called? "Their names," said the
Quaker, "are prayer, faith and con
tent " Hon. Horatio King, in Christian
Work.
A COMPETENT SCHOOLMASTER.
The
Knowlfdff Acquired from
Tribula-
tlon ot a Mere Theory.
Trouble is the heritage of man. The
great and good, the wise man and the
saint, form no exception to the rule.
In this world trouble is no accident;
men are born to it- Trouble inheres in
our constitution and in our material
and social misadjustments. It is in the
ordination of Providence as well as in
human ignorance and perversity. If
some troubles could be escaped, others
are inevitable; we can not go around
them nor flee from them: nothing re
mains but to bite our lips and endure
them.
But though hard to endure, troubles
are designed to be helpful to us. We
have no other such schoolmaster, so
competent and devoted to our interest.
If he comes with a rod and a severe
countenance, he has stores of wisdom
and is apt to teach. Whatever else may
slip from our minds, the lessons of wis
dom are likely to remain. They are
burnt in. They make indelible impres
sions ot the most salutary character.
What is best in us has usually come to
the surface and taken form through
some trouble. The instruction was ex
pensive, but more precious than gold or
rubies. The knowledge we thus ac
quire is not mere theory; it touches the
deepest realities of human life. No
chastening is for the present joyous;
the peaceable fruits of righteousness
are not yet. But in God's time the
fruits appear, justifying the Divine or
der. God's school for character-building
is trial. He puts a man in the fur
nace; the wood, hay and stubbj are
burned away, while the precious quali
ties remain in enduring beauty and
strength.
In trouble God is our refuge and help.
In many troubles nobody else can help.
In temptation, sickness and death we
appeal to friends and physicians in
vain. Our resource in such hours is in
God, who L tbie to deliver us. Even if
and Ida to her mbtherr'who ' firmfy a!'
w uiuii aV-J
nounced that she was "going to spank
our troubles be due to our own folly,
God will look in compassion upon us
when we turn to Him. He waits with,
the tender heart of a parent to help us
in the midst of our folly as well as our
misfortune. Bring to Him your trouble,
and see how He will lift your burden
But He will not lift it until you let go
of it. Zion's Herald. '
HIS FIRST SERMON.
An'Inrldent Taken from the Life of Chmrlee
Jewett.
Charles Jewett, who became a physi
cian and one of the most zealous temp
erance workers of our century, was
noted, even when a boy, for his unfail
ing energy and good nature. At an
early age he was apprenticed to a
farmer, and worked cheerfully on,
through long days and weary nights.
Before he was fifteen years old, he at
one time tended coal pits fourteen
nights is succession and worked at hay
ing all day. Yet no word of complaint
ever escaped his lips.
He had a distinct gift in speech and
song-making, and when he was but
fourteen years old he delivered his
maiden lecture. The men who were
employed with him in the coal-pits
often found the monotony of their
evenings very wearisome, and one night
when they were looking about for
something to interest them, some re
mark was made about a large beech
tump near by.
"Capital pulpit!" said one. "It only
needs a preacher, and we could run a
service."
"And here are Bible and hymn-book,"
said another, who chanced to have a
small copy of each in his pocket.
"Who'll preach?" cried the first
speaker.
"Charley!" answered several voices.
"Yes. Charley!" was the cry.
Charley hesitated, but was forced to
respond, and he mounted the stump,
with the resolve that those scoffing
men should not be entertained in quite
the manner they had anticipated.
He read a hymn, with marked pathos
and power, and a few of the men joined
in singing it. He announced his text
in the words: "And as Moses lifted up
the serpent in the wilderness, even so
must the Son of man be lifted up; that
whosoever believeth in Him should not
perish, but have eternal life."
Then, availing himself of his home
training in the Scriptures and the
catechism, he proceeded to explain the
passage, and to adapt it9 meaning to
the every-day life of his hearers. The
men were at first surprised; then deep
ly moved.
He preached for fifteen or twenty
minutes, and when he concluded, the
men soberly bade one another good
night and went each his own way.
The occurrence was not forgotten, and
a different air seemed to linger about
the camp from that time when a joke
had been turned into an exhortation.
Youth's Companion.
PAST HISTORY RETOLD.
No Concordance Needed for the Foor Man's
Sacred Volume.
Afflictions do not sprirjg out of the
dust; do not be impatient with them;
we need something to soften this hard
life. O, if it were all buying, selling.
getting gam, outrunning one another
in a race for wealth, in which the
racers take no time to record them
selves, there would be no gardens on
the face of the earth, no places conse
crated to floral beauty, no houses built
for music, no churches set up for prayer.
But affliction helps to keep us right;
affliction helps to bring us to our knees.
Poverty says: "Think, fool, think."
Affliction opens the Bible at the right
places. If you, strong man, with the
radiant face and full pocket, were to
open the Bible, it would open up
side down and at nothing. But you,
broken-hearted mother; you child
of sickness: you, orphan and lonely
one, your Bible falls open always at
the right place. Give me your family
Bible and I will tell your history. The
Bible of the strong, prosperous, rich
man, 'tis like himself; well kept too
well. H and me yours, man of the broken
heart, and the tear-stained cheeks, and
the reddened eye, and the furrowed
brow. Ah! all marks and thumblings
and turnings down and marginal notes
and pencil indications thirry-third
Psalm, fourth of Isaiah, a hundred
places in Jeremiah, including the Lam
entations why, I need no concordance
to this Bible if I want to seek out the
promises. I see your guest has been
sorrow, and the hospitality you have
offered him has been patience. If yon
would know the value of the Bible in
the house consult those who have need
ed it most, and abide by their sweet re
ply. Joseph Parker, D. D. .
CONDENSED WISDOM. .
Notes From the Rain's Horn Well Worth a
Second Thought.
God puts our greatest duties nearest
to us.
Heaven finds a new joy every time a
sinner repents.
God never had an enemy who was not.
the bitter foe of man.
It is foolishness to try to reason about
what we can not know.
If the devil had to work without a
mask he would never leave the pit.
Christ's rest is best enjoyed by those
who are trying to give rest to somebody
else.
Many a man has become a lover of
the Bible by hearing some infidel talk
against it.
When the devil can't go to church
himself he always sends a hypocrite.
God never asks anybody to bear
more than one kind of trouble at a
time.
The only safe foundation upon which
to build for eternity is faith in God.
The Bible teaches that the way we
treat the poor is the test of our loyalty
to Christ.
The hardest thing the devil ever
tried to do was to starve a good man to
death.
God stands pledged to supply the man
with bread who will trust in Him and
do his best.
TherfCis a great deal of preaching
that never turns anybody toward God,
because it does not come from the heart.
When some men get religion the very
next bone they give to their dogs will
have more meat on it.
V s .people, it would )
3Ki Tuntil it wnnlrt 1
