THE JUDGE'S TROUT.
Why He Fed It to the Charcoal
Burner's Daughter.
'Scholastique!" J
"M. Sourdat." I
"Take the utmost pains in cooking'
the trout short boil, white wine, '
parsley, thyme, laurel, oil and onions
in fn'l strength.
After having uttered these last in
junctions to his cook. Judge Sourdat
crossed the chief street of Maryville
with alert steps and pained the palais
de justice, which was situated back
of the Sous prefecture. Judge Sourdat
was about forty-five years of age;
very active, notwithstanding a ten
dency to stoutness; square of
shoulders, short in stature, with a
squeaking voice and a round, close
shaven head; eyes gray, clear and
hard under bushy eyebrows; a mouth
closely shut, with thin and irritable
lips; browned cheeks, surrounded
with whiskers badly trimmed; in fact,
one of those mastiff faces, of which
one says: "lie can't be good every
day. And surely he was not very
kind, and he boasted of it. A despot,
he used all of his little realm in the
palais. Hard as stone toward the
guilty, rough with the witnesses, ag
gressive with the advocates, he was a
veritable furnace who fanned himself
constantly into a glow. lie was feared
like the fixe, and he was loved very
little.
However, this man of iron had two
vulnerable sides. Firstly, he responded
to the pastoral name of Hemorin.
which exposed him to ridicule, and
secondly, he was a gourmand, and
gave points to Brillat Savarin. Ilia
gastronomy, which was profound, had
become a mania.
It was he who imagined that to
plunge shellhsh into boiling water be
fore cooking them in their ordinary
dressing gave them a richness and vel
vety savor particularly exquisite. On
the day when he taught that latest re
finement to the priest of St. Victor the
latter could not help blushing, and
raising his puffy hands to heaven he
cried; "Too much! This is too much.
Judge Sourdat! Assuredly it is per
mitted to taste with discretion the
good things which divine wisdom has
provided, but such sensuality as this
borders upon mortal sin, and you will
have to render acccsunt for it to the
good God."
To the 6cruplea of the excellent
priest the judge responded with a mis
anthropic laugh. It was one of his
malign joys to expose his neighbors to
temptation, and this very morning the
priest was to breakfast with him, the
recorder being the only other guest.
Judge Sourdat had received the even
ing before a two-pound salmon trout
taken from the beautiful clear water
of the rocky Semois. It was his fa
vorite fish, and had fully occupied the
first hours of his morning. lie had
demonstrated to the cook the superior
ity of a quick boil to the slow cook
ing in Geneva or Holland sauce of the
books. The trout must be served cold
and in the seasoning in which it was
cooked.
This was with him a principle as
well as a dogma, as indispensable as
aa article of the penal code. He con
tinued to repeat it to himself after
having clothed himself in his robe and
taken his seat, though he was turning
over the leaves of a document bearing
upon an important case now pending.
This was a criminal affair, the dra
matic details of which contrasted
singularly with the epicurian specula
tions which persisted in haunting the
cranium of Judge Sourdat.
The case was thus: During the pre
vious week at sunrise there had been
found in the thicket of a forest the
body of a gamekeeper, who had evi
dently been assassinated and then con
cealed among the brambles of a ditch.
It was supposed that the crime had
been committed by some strolling
poacher, but np to the present time
there had been elicited no precise evi
dence and the witnesses examined had
only made the mystery deeper.
The murder had taken place near the
frontier, where charcoal burners were
at work. The suspicions of the judge
had, therefore, been directed toward
them. The depositions thus far had
revealed that on the night of the mur
der these people had been absent from
their shanty and the furnaces had re
mained in the care of a young daugh
ter of the charcoal burner.
Toward ten o'clock the door of his
cabinet opened, framing the cocked
hat and yellow shoulder belt of the
constable.
"Eh! well?" grunted the judge.
"Eh! well, judge, I cannot find the
girL She has disappeared. The char
coal burners pretend utter ignorance."
The judge consulted his watch. The
business was at & standstill; the case
could not be called, and he wished to
give a glance of oversight to the mat
ters of the dining-rom before the ar
rival of his guests. He disrobed him
self and hurried home.
The pleasant dining-room, bright
ened by the June sunshine, presented
most attractive aspect, with its
white woodwork, its gray curtains, its
high stove of blue faience with its
marble top. and its round table cov
ered with a dazzling white linen cloth.
upon which were placed three covers
artistically trimmed.
This spectacle softened the ill-humor
of the judge, and he was calming lit
tle by little, while laying upon the sil
ver salver a dusty bottle of old croton,
when the hall door opened violently.
and he heard in the vestibule a girl's
voice, which cried: "I tell you I wish to
speak to the judge. He expects me.
"What does this racket mean?
growled the judge, scowling.
"It is that little charcoal burner."
responded the recorder, Touchboeuf.
"She arrived at the palais just after
you left, and she has followed mc as
far as here, in a state of wild excite
ment, in order that you may take her
position."
"Eh!" groaned the judge. "You are
In a great hurry, my girl, after keep
ing me waiting three dava Why did
.you Dot come sooner?
"I had my reasons," she said, casting
hungry eyes upon the table.
"We can better appreciate your rea
sons later," replied the judge, furious
at the interruption. "Meanwhile we
can listen to your report."
He drew out his watch. It was 10:45.
"Yes. we have time, Touchboeuf. You
will find at your side all that is neces
sary for writing. We will question
her."
The notary seated himself at the
writing table with his paper and ink
stand and the pen behind his ear,
waiting. The judge, sitting squarely
in a cane-seated armchair, fixed his
clear, hard eyes upon the girl, who
remained standing near the store.
"Your name?" he demanded.
"Meline SacaeL"
"Your age and your residence?"
"Sixteen years. I live with my fa
ther, who burns charcoal at the clear
ing of Onze-Fontaine."
"You swear to tell all the truth?"
"I came only for that."
"liaise your right hand. You were
near your home on the night when the
guard Sourrpt was murdered. Relate
all that you know."
"That is what I know: Our folks
had set out to go with the charcoal to
Stenay. I watched near the furnace.
Toward two o'clock, at a moment
when the moon was hidden, Manchin,
who is a woodcutter of Ire, passed be
fore our lodge. 'See me! Am I not
watching at an early hour? I cried.
'How goes all at your home? All
well?'
" 2so, he answered. 'The mother
has a fever and the children are al
most dying with hunger. There is
not a mouthful of bread in the house,
and I am trying to kill a rabbit to sell
in Maryville.' That is on the other
side of On ze-Fontaine. I lost sight
of him then, but at daybreak I heard
the report of a gun, and 1 was just
clearing the ashes to shield the char
coal. Then, immediately after, two
men came running toward our lodge.
They were disputing. 'Scoundrel!
cried the guard. 'I arrest you.'
" 'Sourrot!' cried the other, I pray
you let me have the rabbit, for they
are dying of hunger at my home.'
" 'Go to the devil!' said the guard.
Then they fell upon each other. I
could hear their hard blows plainly.
Suddenly the guard cried: 'Oh! and
then he fell heavily.
"I had hidden behind our lodge, ter
ribly frightened, and Manchin ran
away into the great forest, and from
that time to this he Las not been seen.
He is in Belgium, for sure. Tht is
alL"
"Hum!" growled the judge. "Why
did you not come to tell this as soon as
you received the summons?"
"It was none of my business and I
did not wish to speak against Man
chin." "I see; but you seem to have changed
your mind this morning. How is
that?"
"It is because I hare heard that they
accused Guestin.
"And who is this Guestin?"
The girl reddened and answered:
"He is our neighbor charcoal burner,
and he would not harm a fly. Do you
not see," she continued, "that the
thought of fastening on him the guilt
of another aroused me? I put these
great boots on, and I have run all the
way through the woods to tell you
this. Oh, how I have run! I did not
feel tired. I would have tud till to
morrow if it had been necessary, be
cause it is as true as the blue Heavens
that our Guestin is entirely innocent,
gentlemen."
"Hallo!" cried he, seeing her sudden
ly grow pale and stagger. "What's
the matter?"
"My head swims. I cannot see."
She changed color, and her temple
grew moist.
The judge, alarmed, poured out a
glass of wine and said: "Drink this
quickly!" He was wholly absorbed and
very much moved before this girl who
was threatened with illness. He dared
not call Scholastique, for fear of dis
turbing his cooking. He looked help
lessly toward the clerk, who was gnaw
ing his penholder.
"It is a swoon." observed the lat
ter. "Perhaps she needs something
to eat"
'"Are you hungry?" demanded the
judge.
She made a sign of assent.
"Excuse me," she said in a feeble
voice, "but 1 have had nothing to eat
since yesterday. It is that which
makes me dizzy."
"The deuce!" he cried at last hero
ically. Violently he drew toward him
the platter on which lay the trout.
After separating a large piece, which
he put on the table before her, he made
the charcoal burner sit down.
"Eat!" said he, imperiously.
He had no need to repeat his com
mand. She ate rapidly, voraciously.
In another minute the plate was empty,
and Judge Sourdat heroically filled it
anew.
The scribe Touchbouef rubbed his
eyes. He no longer recognized the
judge. He admired, thougb not
without a sentiment of regret, the
robust appetite of the charcoal burner
who devoured the exquisite fish with
out any more ceremony than if it had
been a smoked herring, and he mur
mured: "What pity! Such a beautiful
dish!"
At that mome I the door opened.
The third guest, the good priest of St.
Vincent, in a new cassock and with
his three-cornered hat under his arm,
entered the dining-room and stopped
questioningly before the strange
spectacle of that little savage seated
at the judge's table.
"Too late, M. le Cure!" growled the
judge. "There's no more trout"
At the same time he related the
history of the little charcoal burner.
The cure heaved a sigh. He compre
hended the grandeur of the sacrifice,
but half mournful, half smiling, he
tapped upon the shoulder of the judge.
"Judge Hemorin Sourdat!" cried be,
"you are better than you thought. In
truth I tell you that all punishment
for your sin of gluttony wiU be for
ever remitted because of that trout
which we have not aten." Romance.
IT BENEFITS THE MASSES.
Oood Results of tbe Tariff Redaction Are
Already Apparent.
It is an established fact that the tar
iff bill passed by the democratic con
gress has already proven to be a bless
ing to the poor people of the nation.
It has reduced the prices of nearly aU
the necessaries of life and we now
have cheaper goods of many other
kinds than we have had in many years
before. One dollar will now buy from
ten to twenty-five per cent more than
it would one year ago when tbe Mc
Kinley law became operative.
Prosperity is returning, business is
reviving, wages are increasing and the
cost of maintaining life and comfort is
decreasing. What more can the Ameri
can people want? This condition of af
fairs was brought about by the enact
ment of the Wilson bilL Although
the new toll schedule will not go into
effect until tbe 1st of January next,
carpets are cheaper already, and every
woman in the land will tell you that
she can buy cheaper dress goods now
than she has been able to do in a long
time. We have cheaper tin, and this,
of course, will lower the price of
canned goods. We will have cheaper
white lead, which will reduce the cost
of paint; and the price of shoes will be
lowered by the reduction in the costs
of acids.
The new tariff bill has already af
fected fruit quotations, especially in
the case of oranges and lemons. Every
housewife in the country is interested
in the subject of canned goods. They
are used very extensively and are quite
an item in the grocery bill. The tariff
on canned vegetables has been reduced
one-third in most instances, while the
duty on tomatoes has been lowered
from 45 to 20 per cent. This means
that tj;e prices of canned goods will
be considerably below that paid now.
The effect of the reduction of the
tariff on butter, cheese and eggs is al
ready apparent.
In October, 1S03, the price of butter
ranged from cents for western
SOME MEN NEVER KNOW
thirds to SO cents for creamery state
best This year the prices range from
13 to 25K cents. Last year the poor-
1 est cheese was worth 9 cents and
the best was quoted at 11 cents. This
year the price of cheese ranges from
1)4 to 10.V cents. For eggs the dealer
paid last year from 54 to 4-50 per case,
while this year for the same goods
S3. 26 is the price.
The American can build a house
much cheaper now than a year ago, for
the prices of lumber and building ma
terials have been materially lessened.
The import duties on building stone of
all kinds, except marble, have been
reduced from 40 to SO per cent, for
dressed material, and lumber is prac
tically free of duty. Already a big
tumble in prices is noted and is most
apparent in the cases of laths, shin
gles, clapboards and floorings.
In regard to binding twines and cord
age, the Cordage Trade Journal has the
following to say in reference to the
new schedule for hemp, flax and jute:
"One effect of the new tarl3 is likely to be
a period of depression for some manufacturers
of Jute. The placing of flax and hemp on the
free list and the reduction of the duty on
dressed flax and hemp cause s reduction In the
selling prices of twines and yarns, which re
sults in their use where Jute has been used.
In maintaining the duty on flax and hemp the
government has placed them at a disadvantage
compared with Jute, which was In 1640 put on
the free list. Jute was able to build up a busi
ness which was to last as long as the conditions
lasted. Now that conditions have changed.
Jute must adjust itself to the changed condi
tions and build up a business in open end fair
competition with tho lower grades of hemp
and flax. Already the hemp and flax manu
facturers in this country are receiving orders
that cause them to increase their production
and, la some instances, to run their factories
on full time. Jute manufacturers, on tbe other
hand, report poor business, and some of them
are reducing their output. In this case, at
least, the abolition or reduction of the tariff is
resulting in the uaa of better goods than had
been previously used."
Sweeping reductions in the duties
charged on imported silks were made
by the new tariff, and all these favor
the home manufacturer. Carded or
combed silks now admitted to this
country upon the payment of duties
equal to 20 per cent, of the invoice
value were taxed 0 cents per pound
under the McKinley tariff. Just what
this meant is shown by the official an
nouncement that tbe McKinley tariff
of t0 cents per pound amounted to 60f
per cent, on the silk imported during
183a.
Retail dealers who fail to give their
customers the benefit of the reductions
in cotton cloths of all kinds will soon
lose their trade. Tli prices demanded
for almost every kind of manufactured
cotton fabrics have slumped since the
new tariff schedules went into effect.
On unbleached cottons the new tariff
imposes duties ranging f fom 1 to l?i
cents per square yard; under the Mc
Kinley tariff the cost of importation
ranged from 2 to 43 cents per square
yard.
Tbe new tariff on the cheaper grades
of bleached cotton goods varies from
1 to 11 cents per square yard, the Mc
Kinley tariff ranged from '1 to 8tf,
cents per square yard for similar
goods.
Cotton prints under the new tariff
have to pay duties ranging from 3
cents per square yard for the common
kinds used to 4 ,'4 cents per yard for
the finest. The McKinley tariff on
corresponding grades varied from 4
cents to 6? cents per square yard.
The duty on cotton thread in skeins,
cops, trundles, etc. is reduced from 10
to 6 cents per pound and the imposts
on spool cotton have also been low
ered. The imposts on spinning machinery
have been reduced, and metal ties,
which were taxed 3-10 cents per pound
nnder the McKinley tariff, are now on
the free list.
This is only the beginning of the good
times that are surely and quickly com
ing. If the Wilson bill has had such a
gratifying effect on the industries and
prosperity of the country in the short
time since its passage the people may
expect a great deal more before the
year is over, and may look forward to
years of increasing good times and
happiness. Albany Argus.
D E MOCRATIC PRIC ES.
The Misleading- Argument of Free Trade
Blatherskites.
The democratic press has begun to
inform the public that the Gormanized
tariff monstrosity has cheapened the
price of living.
They say that horses and carriages
were never so cheap as they are at the
present time. They declare that
houses can be built cheaper than they
could be under the McKinley law.
You can buy European pictures, stat
uary, laces, silks and velvets, they
continue, at less cost than they could
be procured under the McKinley law.
In fact, nearly everything made
abroad which comes into competition
with American products can be ob
tained, according to this authority, for
less money than it could be when the
republicans were in office.
If this is the fact, is it not remarka
ble that business does not at once re-
WHEN THEY ARE DEAD.
vive? The democrats have been tell
ing us that business would pickup as
soon as the tariff question was settled.
But it has not improved as was prom
ised. Now they say that the price of
living was never so low. Yet the peo
ple are not rushing to the shops and
stores.
It is possible that a horse and car
riage can be bought cheaper than ever
before, but what does that avail a man
who may want that horse but has not
the money to pay for it? His wife may
tell him that silks and velvets were
never to be had 60 low before, but if
his bank account has disappeared the
silks and velvets will continue to lie
on the tradesman's shelves. A house
may be built cheaper than it could be
under the McKinley law, but that will
not profit the builder, the lumber
dealer, the brickmaker, the plumbers,
bricklayers, carpenters and painters,
if tbe man who wants the house has
not the money to pay for his material
and for their labor.
This is the situation to-day. Demo
crats may declare that times are im
proving, and that the cost of the neces
saries of life has been cut down, but
the merchant waits in vain for the
promised customers, and the workman
finds at the end of the week that his
condition has not impApved in spite of
all the glowing promises which he
finds in democratic newspapers and of
which he hears from democratic stump
speakers.
There is only one way by which busi
ness men and workingmen can test
this matter, and that is by their own
experiences, not by the predictions
and the promises of democratic scribes
and pharisees. Albany Journal.
OPINIONS AND POINTERS.
Mr. McKinley forgot to promise
the Louisiana lottery protection if it
would vote his ticket. Chicago Her
ald. We do not wish to alarm Gov.
McKinley, but he'd better keep an eye
on that man Reed. Chicago Tribune
(Kep.)
It is strange that no republican
orator has yet attributed those train
robberies to the Wilson bilL N. Y.
World.
From numerous republican or
gans we gather the information that
prosperity has made the mistake of re
turning without the consent of the re
publican party. X. Y. World.
Steve Elkins is worrying the air
and shivering the scenery with
speeches against Wilson over in West
Virginia. It is more than likely to do
Wilson good. The folks know Steve
Elkins there. Chicago Times.
"No duties should be levied for
protection that are not needed for
revenue," said Senator Sherman. Mc
Kinley has received few severer re
bukes than this from democratic
sources. It is evident that he is out of
touch with all parties. McKinleyism
is a dead luck. St. Louis Post-Dispatch,
RELIGIOUS MATTERS.
THE LIFE OF TRUST.
Clinging, as little children cling
To bands of parents in the dark.
To the safe shelter of God's ark;
Bringing the best of everything,
Spelling tbe page we can not rend.
And wailing till we hear the word:
Fearing no hour of utmost need.
Because we lean upon the Lord;
Singing low psalms in whispered notes.
Though tears spring hotly to our eyes;
Wafting unspoken prayers from throats
That ache with pangs of sacriuee;
Believing, through all stress and strain.
In One who loves us to the end:
Laying all weariness and pain
At His daar feet our deathless Friend I
So, while our days and nights go on.
Our blessed Lord we rest upon.
His will our Joy : His look our peace I
And His "Well done ! " our dearest guerdon !
Until He bid our conflict cease,
and He unbind our latest burden.
Margaret E. gangster, in S. S. Times.
TRUE CHRISTIANITY.
It Is Marked by an Absence of Gloom and
an Enjoyment and Appreciation of All
(iod Hat flared in the World.
In the minds of many people religion
is associated with gloom. It is some
thing to which they may be compeled
to resort to avoid worse evils, but of it
self it is without zest or charm. Doubt
less the austerity of the Puritan regime
has -done much to foster this impres
sion. The lines between, the church
and the world were drawn with preci
sion, and the discrimination was more
against external things than against
inward dispositions. The old Man
ichcen notion that matter was inher
ently sinful, and that material pleas-
1 ures were seductions of the evil one.
colored their conceptions, as they did
those of the mediaval church.
Gradually, however, the Christian
churches have been coming to wiser
views. They have been led to see that
the world and all it contains is God's
world, that He framed His creatures
for many grades of enjoyment, and
that, other things being equal, he is
the truest man who is alive in every
faculty of soul and body. We have,
also, come to see that the Christian
ideal of life is not one in which the fac
ulties for physical enjoyment are stern
ly repressed, but one in which all
powers are subordinated to spiritual
claims a ad controled by spiritual mo
tives. Self-denial has as much place in the
Christian life as it ever had: but we
have learned to distinguish between
self-denial for the sake of conserving
the soul's power for Rome worthy end
or for the sake of pelf-discipline, and
self-mortification, as an end in itself.
The former is one of the hightest man
ifestations of the Christian spirit; the
latter is heathenish.
One essential mark of true self-denial
is that it is not morose and gloomy.
It sees the superiority of the spiritual
end it aims to secure, and gladly sur
renders the lower good to gain it. It
is only the self-mortification which is
always unintelligent, and a dash of
surerstition that is undertoned and re
pining. The Apostle Paul is an admi
rable illustration of the true Christian
temper. Few men have sacrificed more
than he for spiritual ends, but his let
ters abound with good cheer. Men
constantly turn to them for courage.
In the parable of the Prodigal Son, the
elder son, who could say that, while
his brother had wasted his living, he
had never had a kid to make merry
with his friends, unconsciously dis
closed the real quality of his life. He
showed that he had all the time been
longing for just such a life as that his
brother had led. His brother's life was
the kind of life he would have
1 led if he could have given free
play to his impulses. Inwardly,
he had wandered as far from his father
as ever his brother had outwardly in
miles or riotous excess. His heart had
not been enlisted in the home-life; it
was some small motive of decency or
self-interest that kept him respectable.
The elder 6on is a type of the men
whose religion is gloomy, and who rep
resent it to others as a distasteful ex
perience. They are not quite in the
world, though they long to be, and
they do not live in the spirit.
"The fruit of the spirit is joy.
The more real one's religion is, the
happier, the sunnier, he will be. The
man who enters into the spirit of
Christ will be wary about making ex
ternal prohibitions for himself or for
others. Rather he will seek for him
self and others that devotion to the
highest things which remands the
lower life and its pleasures to their
proper place, and, in so doing, finds the
deepest satisfactions. Boston Watch
REVERENCE THAT IS LATENT.
An Incident Illustrating the rowrrfol In.
flaence Kxerted by Sacred Things.
There is a sense, latent somewhere
in the hearts of unthinking and even
profane people, that puts them to dis
advantage in the sudden presence of
that which is sacred. They have no wit
ty phrase or ribald jest ready for such
an encounter. Something, at least, tells
them, if they feel no reverence, that
silence is the only greeting to be given
a visitor so entirely outside their habits
of thought.
A fine passage in Virgil describes the
calming effect of a venerable man ap
pearing unexpectedly before a raging
mob. A power more influential than
the dignity of human age and char
acter, we are glad to believe, is felt by
most men at the sight of supernal
goodness and Divine sanctity.
A feature of a recent entertainment
in one of the opera-houses of Indianap
olis was an exhibition of steropticon
views. For some reason the pictures
did not meet the expectations of the
seat holders. Critics murmured their
disapproval of them; jokers began to
guy them; outcries of derision were
heard in the gallery, until every scene
and figure that flashed on the canvas
was pelted with a volley of drolleries.
A beautiful moonlight landscape in
Scotland appeared, and a voice shouted
"Cabbage II ill ! followed by an uproar
of laughter. Even the grand face of
Washington was cried down as "Cap'n
Spl an," and the Father of his Country
vanished m a storm of fun.
The performance west on, but whist
ling, howling and stamping drowned
all explanations. The house was in a
fever of half-indignant sport, and there
was no telling where it would end.
"Pandemonium reigned supreme, said
the city dailies, in their reports of the
entertainment on the following morn
ing, and the company were in danger
of being ridiculed off the stage.
Suddenly in the midst of the tumult
appeared on the canvas the benignant
face of Christ. A hush fell on the great
audience as if a spell had smitten them.
They looked, and in an instant, by an
impulse no one can analyze, their mood
changed. Through the remainder of
the performance they sat quietly, and
at its close moved in an orderly manner
from the house. The face of nim who
"spake as never man spake" had stilled
them, as the record tells us His pres
ence stilled the storm on Gennesareth.
It may never be ours, surrounded by
a thoughtless or a scoffing company, to
present to them the "Son of Man" in a
spectacular way; but it is possible al
ways to represent Him in our dally liv
ing so that even the unthinking may
feel nis influence. There is in careless
hearts more secret reverence for the
Great Master than we know. The sight
of lives most like His own may turn
that feeling into worship. Youth's
Companion.
SHORT SERMON ON HABIT.
Learn to Do Well " and "Abhor That
Which la Kt11"-Two Excellent Mottoee
In Forming Character.
Learning to do well is like learning
to swim. You wade into the water,
but not very far, for fear you will
drown. You trv to swim, but sink.
You try again, and do a little better.
You swallow a good deal of water; it
gets into your ears and eyes and nose.
but you keep on splashing, and finally
can swim. So you must keep on doing
well until you learn how and it has be
come a habit. A habit is something
which we have. That is what the
word means. It often becomes some
thing which has us.
A habit is formed in the same way
that paths or roads are. You often see
people "cutting across lots." Where
they do this, a narrow strip of
grass about a foot or fourteen inches
wide. will soon be trodden to
death, and a narrow strip of ground
about the same width beneath it, will
be trodden hard, and that is a path. It
is made by being walked over again,
and again, and again. You can soon
get into the habit of doing a thing if
you will do it over and over many
times. The more you do it the easier
it will become, just as a path grows
wider and plainer the more it is trav
eled. It is hard to keep people from
going across lots after a path is once
made; and so it is hard to stop doing
what we have fallen into the habit of
doing. It will not be easy for you to
"do well" after vou have once learned to
do wrong. Bad habits are like the ruts
made by carriage wheels in country
roads; they hold people fast. I once read
of an old man who had crooked fingers.
When a boy, his hand was as limber as
yours. He could open it easily, but for
fifty years he drove a stage, and his
fingers got so in the habit of shutting
down on the lines and whip that they
finally stayed shut.
Boys, if you do not wish to fall into
the habit of swearing, refuse to swear
at all. If you do not wish to become
the slaves of tobacco, let cigarettes
alone. If you do not wish to die
drunkards, never begin to tipple. If
you do these things even a few times
they may become 'habits and hold you
fast. You would then smoke and swear
and drink almost without knowing it,
or knowing why. "Learn to do well,"
but "abhor that which is evil." Chris
tian Leader.
SHARP BLASTS.
Notes of Help and Advice Sounded front
tho "Kim'i Horn.
God will give abundance of light to
the one who loves it.
Spiritual dyspepsia is harder to cure
than the other kind.
The cross is the key that fits the lock
on the gate of eternal life.
The man who hates the Bible has
something in his heart that the devil
loves.
There has never been a time when it
was any safer to believe God than it is
now.
Before David killed the lion and the
bear he probably destroyed many a
wolf. Some people seem to stop being re
ligious the moment they can't have
their own way.
The devil soon finds out when the
preacher has nothing but powder in
his gun.
2s ot until we have begun to lay up
treasure in Heaven do we sincerely
want to go there.
Unless a Christian has poor health he
slanders God when he goes to church
with a long face.
The devil will never stop shooting at
us as long as he can now and then
make a doubt stick.
The devil would soon be on the run
if one-talent people would do all the
good they could.
It is a great mistake to suppose that
we can find our good without first find
ing peace with our God.
Seek wealth and you will find anxiety
and care. Seek God and you will find
love, joy and peace.
Nothing counts up any faster in
Heaven than being persecuted down
here for righteousness' sake.
The Christian who knows God will
praise Him everyday of his life, wheth
er he feels like it or not.
How would we ever find out that
some folks are religious, if they didn't
make 60 much noise in church?
Jfo preacher ought ever to go into
the pulpit without trying to tell the
people what God sayB about something.
If we consider our possessions all our
own, it is all the proof angels need
that we have not given God our hearts.
The devil probably feels like shak
ing hands every time he meets a man
who splits hairs with God in money
matters.
If the devil could only discover
something that would hurt a Christian,
he would have a chance to get a litUe
rest.