v., - r v ....
. "
i
The Sioux County Journal,
VOLUME VIII.
HARKISON, NEBRASKA, THURSDAY, DEC. 12, 1895.
NUMBER 14.
I
TALMAGE'S SERMON.
HE GIVES A TALK PARTICULAR.
LY TO YOUNG MEN.
Live of Boar-Idtrlooa Hablta A
High Ideal of Life-Baapect for tha
Bafebath-The Christina Beilsioa-A
Tarnlng Point.
The Bon of David.
In bia sermon last Sunday Rct. Dr.
Taluiage, preaching to tbe usual crowded
aadlence, took up a subject of universal
interest to young men. Ill text was
elected from II. Samuel, xviil., 29, "Is
the young man Absalom safe?"
The heart of David, tbe father, was
wrapped up In his boy Absalom. He was
splendid boy, judged by the rulea of
worldly criticim. From the crown of bin
head to the aole of hit foot there was not
a single blemish. The Bible says that he
had such a luxuriant shock of hair that
when once a year it was shorn what was
cut off weighed over three pounds. But,
notwthstandlng all his brilliancy of ap
pearance, he was a bad bay and broke his
father's heart. He was plotting to get tho
throne of Israel. He had marshaled an
army to overthrow his father's govern
ment The day of battle had come. The
conflict was begun. David, the father, sat
between the gates of the palace waiting
for the tidings of the conflict. Oh, how
rapidly his heart beat with emotion! Two
great questions were to be decided the
eefety of his boy and the continuance of
tha throne of Israel. After awhile a ser
vant, standing on the top of the house,
looks off and sees some one running. He
la coming with great speed, and the man
on top of the house announces the coining
of tha messenger, and the father watches
and waits, and as soon as the messenger
fram tha field of battle comes within hail
ing distance the father cries out.
Is It question in regard to the estab
liahment of his throne? Does he say:
"Have the armies of Israel been victo
rious Am I to continue In my imperial
aothority? Have I overthrown my ene
mies?" Oh, no! There is one question
that springs from his heart to the Hp and
nprtngs from the lip Info the ear of the be
aweated and bedusted messenger flying
from the battlefield the question, "Is the
young man Absalom safe?" When it wua
told to David, the king, that, though his
armies had been victorious, his son had
been slain, the father turned his back up
oa tha congratulations of the nation anil
west op the stairs of his palace, his heart
breaking as he went, wringing his hands
sometimes and then again preasing them
against his temples as though he wonld
preea them In, crying: "O Absalom, my
bob, my son! Would Ood I had died for
thee, O Absalom, my son, my son!"
la Abaaloaa Safe?
My friends, the question which David
the king, asked In regard to his son Is the
question that resounds to-day In the
hearts of hundreds of parents. Yea, there
are a great multitude of young men who
know that tha question of the text Is ap
propriate when asked in regard to them.
They know the temptations by which
they ire surrounded; they see so many
who started life with as good resolutions
as they have who have fallen In the path,
ad they are ready to hear me ask the
question of my teit, "Is the yonng man
Absalom aafe?" The fact is that this life
Is fall of peril. He who undertakes it
wlthont the grace of Ood and a proper
understanding of the conflict into which
he is going must certainly be defeated.
J net look off upon society to-day. Look at
the shipwreck of men for whom fair
things were promised, and who started
Ufa with every advantage. Look at those
who have dropped from high social posi
tion, and from great fortune, disgraced
for time, disgraced for eternity, All who
aerifice their integrity come to overthrow.
Take a dishonest dollsr and bury It in
the center of the earth and keep all the
rocks of tha mountain on top of it; then
cover these rocks with all the diamonds of
Ciolconda, and all the silver of Nevada,
and all the gold of California and Austra
lia, and put on top of theae all banking
and moneyed Inatitntions, and they can
not keep down that one dishonest dollar.
That ona dishonest dollar in the center
of tha earth will begin to heave and rock
and upturn itself until It comes to the
resurrection of damnation. "As -the part
ridge sltteth on eggs' and hatcheth them
not, so be that getteth riches, and not by
right, shall leave them In the midst of his
days, and at his end shall be a fool."
A Bafegnard.
Now, what are the safeguards of young
men? The first safeguard of which I
want to speak is a love of home. There
are those who have no Idea of the pleas
ures that concentrate around that word
"home." I'erhapa your early abode waa
shadowed wih rice or poverty. Harsh
words and petulance and scowling may
have destroyed all the sanctity of that
mt. love, klndneas and self-sacrifice,
which have built their altars In so many
abodes, were strangers In your father's
house. Ood pity you, yonng man. Yon
never had a home. Hut a multitude in
this audience can look back to a spot that
they can uever forget. It may have been
a lowly roof, hut you cannot think of It
tow without a dash of emotion. You have
seen nothing on earth that so stirred your
soul. A stranger passing along that place
might see nothing remarkable about it,
lint oh! how much it means to you. Fres
co on palace wall does not mean so much
to yon as those rough hewn rafters. Parks
and I mwers and trees at fashionable
watering place or country seat do not
mean so much to you as that brook that
ran In front of the plain farmhouse and
singing under the weeping willows. The
barred gateway awung open by porter In
fall dress does not mean aa much to yon as
that swing gate, your sister on ona aide of
It a ad jon on tha other, She, gone fif
teen years ago Into glory! That aceoe
coming back to you to-day as you swept
backward and forward on tha gate, sing
lag the songs of your childhood. Burthen
ara those hers who have thalr second
dwelling place. It la your adopted bom.
Tmst als U sacred for sver. Thar ja
sststushsl tha f rat family altar. There
yens ahUsrea wars bora. In that room
teamed tha wtag f tha death angel.
Usmv that roof, whan roar work la
seas, ran expect to Ha down aad dla.
There la only one word in all the languages
that can convey your Idea of that place,
and that word ia "home."
Now, let ma say that I never knew a
man who was faithful to bia early and
adopted home who waa given over at tha
aama time to any gross form of wicked
ness. If you find mora enjoyment In tha
clubroom. In tha literary society, in tha
art salon, than you do in theae unpretend
ing home pi ess urea, you ara on the road to
ruin. Though you may be cut off from
your early associates, and though you may
be separated from all your kindred, young
man, is there not a room somewhere that
you can call your own? Though it be the
fourth story of a third-class boarding
house, into that room gather books, pic
tures and a harp. Hang your mother's
portrait over the mantel. Bid unholy
mirth stand back from that threshold.
Consecrate some spot in that room with
the knee of prayer. By the memory of
other days, a father's counsel, a mother's
love and a sister's confidence, call It home.
A Prima Virtue.
Another safeguard for these young men
Is industrious habit. There are a great
many people trying to make their way
through the world with their wits instead
of by honest toil. There is a young mau
who comes from the country to the city.
He fails twice before he Is as old as his
father wss when he first saw the spires
of the great town. He is seated in his
room at a rent of $2,000 a year, waiting
for the banks to declare their dividends
and the stocks to run up. After awhile
he geta impatient. Ha tries to improve
his penmanship by making copy plates
of other merchants' signatures! Never
mind all Is right In business. After
awhile he has his estate. Now is the time
for him to retire to the country, amid
the flocks and the herda, to culture and
domestic virtue.
Now the young men who were his
schoolmates in boyhood will come, and
with their ox teams draw him logs, and
with their hard hands will help to heave
np the eastlu. That is no fancy sketch.
It is everyday life. I should not wonder
If there were a rotten beam in that palace.
I should not wonder if Ood should smite
him with dire sicknesses and pour into his
cup a bitter draft that will thrill him with
unbearable agony. I should not wonder
if that man's children grew up to be to
him a disgrace, and to make his life a
shame. I should not wonder if that man
died a dishonorable death and were tum
bled into a dishonorable grave, and then
went into the gnashing of teeth. The way
of the ungodly shall perish.
Oh, young man, you must hare indus
try of head or hand or foot or perish! Do
not have the idea that you can get along
in the world by genius. The curse of this
country to-day is geniuses men with large
self conceit and nothing else. The man
who proposes to make hia living by his
wits probably has not any. I should
rather be an ox, plain and plodding and
useful, than to be aa eagle, high flying
and good for nothing but to pick out tbe
eyes of carcasses. Even in the garden of
Eden it waa not safe for Adam to be idle,
so God made him a horticulturist, and if
the married pair had kept busy dresslrfg
the vines they would not have been saun
tering under tha tree, hankering after
frnit that ruined them and their posterity!
I'roof positive of the fact that when peo
ple do not attend to thair business they
get into mischief. "Go to the ant, thou
sluggard. Consider ber ways and be
wiae, which, having no overseer or guide,
provldeth her food in the summer and
gathereth her meat in the harvest."
Hatan ia a roaring lion, and you can never
deatroy him by gun or pistol or sword.
The weapons with which you are to beat
him back are pen and type and hammer
and adse and saw and pickax and yard
stick and the weapon of honest toil. Work,
work or die.
A High Ideal.
Another safeguard that I want to pre
sent to young men is a high ideal of life.
Sometimes soldiers going into battle shoot
into tbe ground instead. of into the hearts
of their enemies. Tbey are apt to take
aim too low, and it is very often that the
captain, going into conflict with his men,
will cry out, "Now, men, aim high!" The
fact Is that in life a great many men take
no aim at all. The artist plans out his
entire thought before he puts it upon can
vas, before he takes up the crayon or the
chisel. An architect thinks out the entire
building before the workmen begin. Al
though everything may seem to be unor
ganised, that architect haa In bia mind
every Corinthian column, every Gothic
arch, every Byzantine capital. A poet
thinks out tbe entire plot of bis poem be
fore he begins to chime tbe cantos of
tinkling rhythms. And yet there ara a
great many men who start the Important
structure of life without knowing wheth
er it is going to be a rude Tartar's but
or a St. Mark's cathedral, and begin to
write out the Intricate poem of their life
without knowing whether it Is to be a
Homer's "Odyssey" ora rhymester's botch.
Out of 1,000, 9IHI have no life plot. Boot
ed and spurred and caparisoned, they
hasten along, and I run out and say:
"Hallo, man! Whither away?" "No
where!" they say. O young man, make
every day's duty a filling up of the grent
life plot. Alas, that there should lie on
this Hea of life no many shi that seem
bound for no port! They are swept every
whither by wind and wave, up by the
mountains snd down by the valleys. They
sail with no chart. They gaze mi no
star. They long for no harbor. O young
niii n, have a high ideal and press to it,
and it will be a mighty safeguard. There
never were grander opportunities open
ing before young men than are opening
now. Young men of the strong arm, and
of the stout heart, and of the bounding
step, I marshal yon to-day for a great
achievement.
Respect for Sunday.
Another safeguard is a respect for the
Sabbath. Tell me how a young man
spends his Sabbath and I will tell you
what are bis prospects in business, and I
will tell you what ara his prospects for
the eternal world. God has thrust Into
our busy life a sacred day when ws ara to
look after onr souls. Is It exorbitant,
after giving alt daya to tha feeding and
clothing of these perishable bodies, that
God should demand ona day for tbe feed
ing and clothing of tha Immortal soul?
Oar bod lea ara seven day clocks, and
they need to ba wound np, and If they ara
mat wound op they ma down Into tha
grave. Na ttaa eaa continooaaly break
tha Sabbath and Jtaap hia physical and
mental health. Aak those aged men, and
they will tell you they never knew men
who continuously broke the Sabbath who
did not fail in mind, body or moral prin
ciple. A manufacturer gave this as his
experience. He said: "I owned a factory
on the Lehigh. Everything prospered. 1
kept the Sabbath, and everything went on
well. But ona Sabbath morning I be
thought myself of a new shuttle, and I
thought I would Invent that shuttle before
sunset, and I refused all food and drink
until I had completed that shuttle. By
sundown I had completed it. Tbe next
day, Monday, I showed to my workmen
and friends this new shuttle. They all
congratulated me on my great success. I
put that shuttle into play. I enlarged my
business, but, sir, that Sunday's work cost
me $30,000. From that day everything
went wrong. I failed in business, and I
lost my mill." Oh, my friends, keep the
Lord's day. - You may think it old fogy
advice, but I give it to you now: "Be
member the Sabbath day and keep it
holy. Six days shalt thou labor and do all
thy work, but the seventh is the Sabbath
of the Lord thy God. In it thou shalt not
do any work." A man said that he would
prove that all this was a fallacy, and mo
he said, "I shall raise a Sunday crop."
And he plowed the field on tbe Sabbath,
and then he put in the seed on the Sab
bath, and he cultured the ground on the
Sabbath. When the harvest was ripe, he
reaped it on the Sabbath, and he carried
it into the mow on the Sabbath, and then
he stood out defiant to bis Christian
neighbors and said, "There, that is my
Sunday crop, and It is all garnered."
After awhile a storm came up, and a great
darkness, and the lightnings of heaven
struck the barn and away went his Sun
day crop.
The Crowning Virtue.
There is another safeguard that I want
to present. I have saved it until the last
because I want it to ba the more emphatic.
The great safeguard of every young man
is the Christian religion. Nothing can
take the place of it You may have grace
fulness enough to put to tbe blush Lord
Chesterfield, you may have foreign lan
guages dropping from your tongue you
may diacuas laws and literature, you may
have a pen of un equaled polish and power,
you may have so much business tact that
you can get tha largest salary In a bank
ing house, you may be as sharp aa Herod
and as strong as Samson and with as long
locks aa those which hung Absalom, and
yet you hove no aafety against tempta
tion. Some of you look forward to Ufa
with great despondency. I know it I see
It in your faces from time to time. You
say, "All the occupations and profes
sions ara full, and there's no chance for
me. O young man, cheer np. I will tell
you how yon can make your fortune. Seek
first the kingdom of God and his right
eousness, and all other things will ba
added. I know you do not want to be
mean In this matter. You will not drink
tha brimming cup of life and then pour
the dregs on God a altar. To a generous
Savior you will not act like that; you have
not the heart to act like that. That Is not
manly. That Is not honorable. ' That Is
not brave. Your great want is a new
heart, and In the name of tbe Lord Jesus
Christ I tell you so to-day, and the bleased
Spirit presses through the solemnities of
this hour to put the cup of life to your
thirsty lips. Oh! thrust It not back.
Mercy presents it bleeding mercy, long
suffering mercy. Despise all other friend
ships, prove recreant to all other bar
gains, but despise God's love for your
dying soul do not do that. There comes
a crisis In a man's life, and the trouble is
he does not know it ia the crisis. I got a
letter In which a man says to me:
"I start out now to preach the gospel of
righteousness and temperance to the peo
ple. Do you remember me? I am the
man who appeared at the close of the ser
vice when you were worshipping in the
chapel after you came from Philadelphia.
Do you remember at the close of the ser
vice a man coming up to you all a-trembls
with conviction, and crying out for mercy,
and telling you he had a very bad busi
ness, and he thought he wonld change ii ?
That was the turning point in my history.
I gave up my bad business. I gave my
heart to God, and the desire to serve him
haa grown upon me all these years, until
now woe is unto me if I preach not the
gospel."
A Turning Point.
That Sunday night was the turning
point of that young man's history. Thin
very Sabbath hour will be the turning
point In the history of a hundred young
men in his house. God help us. I on-
stood on an anniversary platform with s
clergyman, who told this msrvelous story.
He said:
"Thirty years ago two young men atsrt
ed out to attend Park Theater, New York,
to see a play which made religion ridicu
lous and hypocritical. They had been
brought up In Christian families. They
started for tha theater to see that vile
play, and their early convictions caino
back upon them. They felt it wns not
right to go, but still they went. One of
the young men stopped and started for
home, but returned and csnie up to tho
door, hut hnil not the courage to (to in.
He hi: it In started for home and went
home. The other young man went in. lit
went from one degree of temptation tu
another, ('aught in the whirl of frivolity
and sin, he ssnk lower and lower, lit
lost his business Hsitlon; he lost bis mor
als; he lost his soul; he died a dreadful
death, not one star of merry shining on It.
I stand before you to-day," said the min
ister, "to thank God that for twenty
years I have been permitted to preach the
gospel. I am the other young iiikti."
Oh, you see that waa the turning point
the one went back, the other went on!
Tha great roaring world of business life
will soon break In upon you, young men.
Will the wild wave dash out the impres
sions of this day as an ocean billow dashef
letters out of the sand on the beach? You
need something better than this world
can give you. I beat on your heart, and It
sounds hollow. You want something
great and grand and glorious to fill it, ami
bera la tha religion that can do it. God
save yon!
Arrangement have been made by
tha German military authorities on
Um first Intimation of war ta Instantly
convex by rail all tbe women and chil
dren In auch large towna aa Mats and
traaburg, as well as entailer places,
Into Germany.
WRITE HER EVERY DAY.
Comrade, have you got a wife?
Write ber every day.
Half the Joy is eat her life
When you are away;
Write her from the speeding car;
Never mind the thump and Jar
Which your loving letters mar
Write ber every day.
You are in the stirring world.
She at home must stay.
Conscious you are being whirled
Farther yet away.
There she's watching, waiting, Ust'ning,
With heart beating, with eyes glist'nlng,
Quick to catch the postman's glisf ning
Write her every day.
Would you some kind service render,
Sweet attention pay?
Then a loving letter send ber
When you are away;
Would you all her home life brighten?
Would you all her sorrows lighten?
Bouds of sweet affection tighten?
Write her every day.
And, however far you wander,
I am sure 'twould pay,
Could you aee her read and ponder
Over what you say;
Have your tablet in your grip,
Fountain pen charged to the tip,
Then don't let the chances slip
Write her every day.
If you chance to gush a little
And perhaps you may
She will grant you full acquittal,
It is safe to say;
Write her genuine love letters,
Itlvetlng anew. love's fetters;
These are Cupid's best abetters
Write her every day.
Travelers' Magazine.
"BOSS."
A rough, brown dog aat at the very
edge of the tumble-down breakwater.
He waa looking steadily seaward. He
waa evidently old, and be waa scarred
by many fights, but his sunken mouth,
from which he bad lost many teeth,
showed that he would not fight again,
victoriously.
Ha was gaunt from a life of Insuffi
cient food, but yet be bad the air of a
dog who Is loved.
Sometimes be turned from his gaze
at the sea and glanced behind blm at a
child who waa sitting in a wheelbar
row a few feet away. Every time lie
glanced thus he slightly wagged hia
stamp of a tall, and the child smiled, or
she said in a soft voice:
"Good Boss!"
And then Boss wagged harder; but ha
could not give much attention to bia
companion, for bia whole heart waa
with that bent old woman who was
up to ber waist in tbe water by the out
ermost ledge. It waa there that the
Irish moss grew, and at low tide the
woman could gather It. She thrust ber
arm down to the shoulder each time
for ber handful of moas. She waa wet,
sodden wet, save for a small place
serosa her back.
8he bad a man's atraw hat fastened
by a small rope tightly under her chin.
Her face looked a hundred years old.
It was In truth seventy old, seamed
and leathery; and It was a face you
loved to look at
Every few momenta she raised her
head and put her dripping hand up over
her eyes as she turned toward the land;
she wag at first dazzled by the glare of
the water. When she looked up thus
the little girl In the wheelbarrow al
ways waved her hat; then a dim, beau
tiful smile would come in the faded
eyes.
"It's Jest a doln' of ber lots of good,"
she would say aloud. "I'm awful glad
I wheeled her down. I wish now I'd
brought her down oftener this Hum
mer." Twice as she looked shoreward, she
called out shrilly:
"Boms, you take care of her; won't
you, Boss?"
Then Boss pricked up his ears and
shook tils tall, and the girl laughed and
said she guessed she 'n' Boss could git
along first-rate.
"We're use't to It, ain't we. Boas?"
When she said this the dog got up,
came to her side, gave her a swift lick
across the cheek, thei hurried back
und xnt down on the edge of tbe planks
again.
Once the woman nut In the water slip
ped and fell Kpluhlng, and Bos Jump
ed up, whining In a piteous quaver,
and would not be comforted even when
the child wild soothingly:
"Never mind, old follow!"
But when the woman floundered to
her feet again and cried "all right!"
the dog sat down. Sttn he frequently
gave a little whine under his breath,
lie was thinking that this was the first
summer when he had gone out room
ing with his dearest friend, and he
could not understand why he was so
stiff and clumsy; that be wns unable
to run over the ltpMry rock and keep
close to her, nosing the moss she picked
up, poking over lobsters and crabs, and
seeing that nothing happened to her.
Something was the matter with bis legs,
and with the whole of him, somehow,
and he could not get over the rocka.
Waa It the same thing vhat kept blm
from gnawing bones? And he liked
them Just as well as ever. He noticed
that the young dog who lived down tha
road could crack bonea without any
trouble. It waa all very mysterious.
When he lay In the sun near where
tha moaa waa drying, doting and aaap
ping at tiia flies, ha often looked aa If
be wen thinking of ail thaw thing.
And what did the girl's grandmother
mean only yesterday when aba had
stroked his bead and said:
"Poor old Boaal You're gittlii' old,
jea'a I be. Twon't be no kind of a
place round this house 'th out Boas."
He bad muzzled bis head under ber
hand whan aha had spoken thus, but
he didn't understand.
How pleasant this bright day was
with its aunny, gentle east wind a
wind that brought sweet, salt smells
from the ocean.
The child sniffed the bracing odor
and stretched out ber bands, smiling
happily.
To be sure, she couldn't walk, but
granny wheeled her to the breakwater,
where she could see the moss gathered.
It was a low course of tides, and now
the water had gone far out so that one
could get to one of the ledges where
the moss grew.
Granny had no boat as most of the
moaners had there were some boats
now farther along, and little Molly
could see the men put their long-handled
ropes down and draw them up
full. She knew that those men made
more money than her grandmother, but
then, she didn't know much about
money. Some of the neighbors often
said that they themselves couldn't af
ford to keep a dog. When they said
this granny shut her lips tight, and the
first chance she had she would stroke
the dog's head.
"I guess they don't know much about
a dog," she told Molly, " 'n' I guess's
long's we got anything to eat, Bosa'll
have some of It; eh, old feller?"
Molly sank back on her pillow In the
barrow. Hhe amused herself by almost
closing her eyes so that the sea seemed
to come up nearer, and crlmple In
sparks of fire. Then she would open
her lids wide, and the great stretch of
water would flash blindlngly on her
vision. She played at this for a long
time; and always in front of her was the
dog; she had grown up In the convic
tion that all was well If he was near. .
Soon everything grew dellclously dim
and then clear, and the salt smell waa
sweeter, and she was walking over the
hard sand as straight as anybody, hold
ing her head up strongly. She did not
know she was asleep. It waa real to
her that she was walking.
Suddenly she aat upright In her
wheelbarrow, clutching the aides of It
Boas waa not there. Had be barked?
Or had someone called? She looked
off to tbe ledge. She saw Bona leaping
frantically over tha weedy rocks. He
went as if he were a young dog he
went like a creature possessed. He
seemed not to leap, but to fly from one
rock to another, over the still, green
pools.
Molly could see the dog, and be
yond him, shining water. Where waa
granny?
The child tried to scream, but she
felt as If In a nightmare, and could not
make a sound.
Oh! there was something down be
tween the rocks on the far side of the
ledge. It was there that Boas was go
ing. And there was the mosser In his
boat, putting his rake down just as
he had been doing when the child had
gone to sleep. For an Instant she
thought she was dreaming. But Boss
was gone andyes there was some
thing among the rocks It waa gran
ny's hat sticking up; snd It did not
move.
Molly tried aain to scream, and It
wast as if her heart would break in the
trying. Her voice was only a hoarse
kind of a whisper.
But there! Boss has reached his
friend. He tried to pull her out He
could not. Between his attempts he
barked, be howled; nay, he screamed.
Was his heart breaking also?
At last the mosser out there held his
roie Just above the water and gazed
towards the shore, listening. The wind
was off the eea and sounds from the
land did not come clearly.
The man saw little Molly Towne on
the breakwater. Had ahe cried out?
And was that the Towne dog carrying
on so on the rocka?
Boms waa down by the atill figure that
waa lying in the shallow pool. He wan
struggling with It making frantic ef
forts to pull It from the water.
Outlined on the breakwater, against
the dazzle of the blue sky, the man
saw Molly rise Up In her barrow as if
she would walk, and then fall back
again.
"Good God!" he cried. He drojiped
the rope Into the water, caught up his
oars and rowed to the ledge. AH the
time he rowed he saw Mrs. Towne's
motionless form lying there, and the
dog trying to help her.
As he stepped out of his boat and
began slipping and Jumping over the
rocka, the woman moved and raised
her head. He saw her reach out her
hand to the dog; he saw the dog throw
himself down and lick her face eager
ly. "That you, Jim Stowell?" she asked,
"I guess I've broken my leg. I slipped.
I've moused twenty year, 'n' I never
nltpped to seak of liefore."
She spoke tremblingly, but with pride.
"I s'poae I fainted, or something."
"I'll git you right Into the boat," said
Jim Stowell briskly, "'n' take you
home In no time."
Boa stood close by watching the
man.
Mrs. Towns looked to tbe a bora, saw
the child, waved bar hand and calls
cheerily, "all right!"
And MoUy shook her handksrentaj
feebly, though she tried to shake It Tig.
orously.
"I do hope ahe didn't ass m fall,-
aald the woman.
It waa not easy to get bar Into tfat
boat, and she winced and grow pals,
but ahe helped all she could and insula
no sound.
When she was In at last, Jim took an
his oars to go round to tha sandy land
ing. There stood Boss shivering on a
rock. All at once be appeared oldsf
than ever; it seemed aa if he could
hardly stand.
"Take him, too," said hta mistress.
"No, let him walk."
"I want you to take him, I toll JOB,"
almost fiercely. "He's too old 'a' Stiff
to walk on the rocka."
"Oh!" with a laugh. "You oughts
seen him goln' after you!"
The man began to row. Tear cams
Into Mrs. Towne's eyes.' Her voles was
choked.
"You've got to take blm," aba said,
"or you needn't take me."
"Oh, If you feel like that " Jim
lifted the dog Into the boat, and Boss
crouched down by his friend, who put
her hand on him. He leaned mors and
more heavily on her; his eyes were fix
ed on her face.
She had flung up her hand again to
the child.
Lying there on the wet moaa at tha)
bottom of the boat she could look, with
out moving, into the dog's face. Hs
pressed yet closer.
With a curiously quick movement aba
managed to draw him even nearer.
She bent her head to hia head.
"He lays too hard on ye!" said Jim,
"lem me pull him away."
"Don't touch him!" she cried In a
sharp voice.
The next moment she said hoarsely I
"He's dead." Maria Louise Pool, ta
the Chap Book.
Plants Thrive on a Meat Diet.
It has been proven time and again
that the so-called "cannibal plants," of
which the Venus flytrap is the type, ar
much more healthy when allowed their
regular Insect food than they are when
reared under netting or In any other
manner which excludea them from
their regular meat diet The above to
an oddity in Itself, especially whan wa
consider the fact that there is a csrtate
school of botanists which teaches can
nibal plants make no use whatever of
tbe Insect prey captured by them, but
it ia nothing compared with the bold
assertion made by Francis Darwin,
That noted scientific gentleman bravely
meets the "vegetarian botanists" with,'
tbe assertion that all klnda and classes
of plants, whether known as "meas
eaters" or not, bear more and heavier
fruits and seeds when fed on meat than
those that are not allowed a flesh diet,
lie grew two lota, comprising various
varletlea of the different common
plants. One lot waa regularly fed
(though their roots ef course)
with pure Juices compressed from
meat, the other with 4 water and the
various fertilizers. The final figures
on this odd experiment proved that the
plants which were fed pure meat Juloa
bore 168 fruits of the different kinds,
while the unfed plants of the same
number and original condition bora but
seventy-four. Also that tbe pampered
plants bore 240 seeds to every 100 borne
by the plants that were not given a
chance to gratify cannibalistic tastes.
This Is certainly a discovery worthy of
much careful study and extensive ex
periment St Louis Republic.
Another Interpretation.
What Is commonly called lnspIratJoa
may sometimes be only another name
for conceit. An uneducated young far
mer presented himself at a Presbyter
Ian conference and aald he wanted to
be ordained aa a preacher. "I ain't
had any great learning," he aald, frank
ly, "but I reckon I'm called to preach.
I've had a vision three nights running;
that's why I am here." "What was
your vision?" Inquired one of the eld
ers. "Well," said the young man, "I
dreamt I see a big. round ring In the
sky, and In the middle of It were two
great letters P. C. I knew that meant
Presbyterian Conference, and her I
riii." There was an uncomfortable
pnuse, which was broken by an elder
who knew the young man, and was
well acquainted with the poverty of his
family and the neglected condition of
their farm. "I have not any gift at
reading visions," said the old man,
gravely, as he rose from hia seat, "but
I'd like to put It to my young friend
whether he doesn't think It possible
those two letters may have stood for
'Plant Corn'?" This version waa final
ly accepted by the applicant.
Forgot Himself.
Archbishop Trench waa a victim of
absent-mindedness. Dining at horns
one evening, he found fault with th
flavor of the aoup. Next evening he
dined out at a large dinner-party. For-
getting for the moment that he)
was not In hi own house but a guest,
he observed across the table to Mrs.
Trench: "This soup Is, my dear, again
a failure."
Bacon Does that young man who la
paying attention to your dangntsr
leav at a ssaaonaM hour at sight?
Egbert Ta( I have no re bob to kick.
Tanker Statsamaa.
