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About The Sioux County journal. (Harrison, Nebraska) 1888-1899 | View Entire Issue (June 11, 1896)
M (few-. 4 (- The Sioux County Journal, VOLUME VIII. HAIWISOX, NEBRASKA THURSDAY, JUNE 11, 189(. NUMBER 40. TALM AGE'S SERMON. THE WASHINGTON PREACHER ON THE DRAMA OF LIFE. It A pprira that People Ceed to Go to . the Theater In the Dave of Job A Unique Peroration Vindicating Sbakeepeare of Infidelity. Canaea of Failure. Bt. Dr. Taluiage in tbii discourse sets forth the causes of failure in life, drawing on a Biblical reference to the theater for startling illustration. Hia teit wai Job xxvli., Zl, "Men shall clap their handa at him and aball hiss biui out of hia place." Thin allusion seems to be dramatic. The Bible more than once make auch allu sions. Paul say. "We are made a the ater or spectacle to angels and to men." It la evident from the text that aome of the habita of theater goers were known in Job's time, because he deacritx-i an actor hissed off the stage. The iuiieronator cornea on the boards and, either through lack of study of the part be la to take or lnaptnes or other Incapacity, the audi ence la offended and ei presses its disap probation and disgust by hissing. "Men hall clap their hands at him and ahall hiss hi in out of bis pluce." The Actors of Life. My text suggests that each one of us la pat on the stage of this world to take some part. What hardship and suffering and discipline great actors have under gone year after year that they might be perfected In their parts you hare often read. But we, put on the stage of this life to represent charity and faith and hu mility and helpfulness what little pre paration we have made, although we hare three galleries of spectators, earth and heaven and hell! Have we not been more attentive to the part taken by others than to the part taken by ourselves, and, while we needed to lie looking at borne and con centrating on our own duty, we have been criticising the other performers, and say ing, "that was too high," or "too low," or "too feeble," or "to extravagant," or "too tame," or "too demonstrative," while we ourselves were making a dead failure and preparing to be ignominious biased off the stage? Kach one is assigned a place, no supernumeraries hanging around the drama of life to take this or that or the other part, as they may be called upon. No one can take our place. We can take no other place. Neither can we put off our character; no change of apparel can make us any one else than that which we eternally are. Many make a failure of their part In the drama of life through dissipation. They have enough Intellectual equipment and good address and geniality unbound ed. But they have a wine closet that contains all the forces for their social and business and normal overthrow. So far back as the year D.V.), King Edgar of England made a law that the drinking cups should have pins fastened at a cer tain point in the side, so that the Indulgor might be reminded to stop before he got to the bottom. But there are no pins pro jecting from the sides of the modern wine cup or beer mug, and the first point at which millions stop is at the gravity bot tom of their own grave. Dr. Sax of France has discovered something which all drinkers ought to know. He mm found out that alcohol in every shape, whether of wine or brandy or beer, con tains parasitic life called bncillus potu nianine. By a powerful microscope these living tbinxs are discovered, and when you take strong drink you take them into the stomach and then Into your blood, and, getting into the crimson cunnls of life, they go Into every tissue of your body, and your entire organism is taken possession of by these noxious infinitesi mals. When in delirium tremens, a man sees every form of reptilian life, it seems It Is ouly these parasites of the brain In exaggerated size. It Is not a hallucina tion that the victim is suffering from. He only sees in the room what is actually crawling and rioting in his own brain. Every time you take strong drink you swallow these maggots, and every time the imbiber of alcohol in any ahape feels vertigo or rheumatism or nausea It Is ouly the Jubilee of these maggots. Effort are being mads for the discovery of some germicide that can kill the parasites of al coholism, but the only thing that will ever extirpate them is abstinence frt'mi alcohol and teetotal abstinence, to which I would before God swear all these young men and old. Danger of Mronn Drink. America is a fruitful country, aud we raise large crops of wheat and corn and oats, but the largest crop We raise in this country is the crop of drunkards. With . sickle made out of the sharp edges of the broken glass of bottle and demijohn they are cut down, and there nre whole swathes of them, whole, windrows of them, and It takes nil the hospitals and penitentiaries and graveyards and ceme teries to hold this harvest of hell. Some of you are going down under this evil, and the never dying worm of alcoholism has wound around you one of Its coils, ami by next New Year's day it will have another coil around you, and It will after awhile put a coil around your tongue, and a coll around j our brain, and a coil around your lung, and a coll around your foot, and a roll around your heart, ami some day this never dying worm will with one spring tighten all the rolls at once, and in the hist twist of that awful convolution you will cry out, "Oh, my God!" and be gone. The greatest of dramatists In the tragedy of "The Tempest" sends stagger ing across the stage Hteyhano, the drunk en butler; but across tin stage of human life strong drink sends kingly and queenly and princely natures staggering forward against the footlights of conspiculty and then staggering back Into failure till the work! Is Impatient for their disappear ance, and human and diabolic voices join In hissing them off the itage. Many also make a failure In the drama of life through indolence. The are al ways making calculations bow little the ran do for the compensations they get. There are nor las Ministers, lawyers, doctors, merchants, artists and farmers than have ever hern counted upon. The community U full of laggards and shirk ers. I can tell it from the way they crawl along the street, from their tardiness In meeting engagements, from the lethargies that seem to hang to the foot when they lift it, to the band when they put it out, to the words when they speak. Ont of Place. Two young men m a store. In the morn ing the one goes to his post the last min ute or one minute behind. The other is ten minutes before the time and has his hat and coat hung up and la at his post waiting for duty. The one Is ever and anon in the afternoon looking at hia watch to see if It is not most time to shut up. The other stays half an hour after he might go, and when asked why, says be wanted to look over some entries he had made to be sure he was right, or to put up some goods that had been left out of place. The one Is very touchy about doing work not exactly belonging to him. The other is glad to help the other clerks in their work. The first will be a pro longed nothing, and be will be poorer at UO years of age than at 20. The other will be a merchant prince. Indolence is the cause of more failures In all occupa tions than you have ever suspected. Peo ple are too lary to do what they can do, and want to undertake that which they cannot do. In the drama of life they don't want to be a common soldier, car rying a balberd across the stage, or a fal coner, or a mere attendant, and so they lounge about the scenes till they shall be called to be something great. After awhile, by some accident of prosperity or circumstances, they get into the place for which they have no qualification. And very soon, if the man be a merchant, he is going around asking his creditors to compromise tor 10 centa on the dollar. Or, if a clergyman, he is making tirades against the Ingratitude of churches. Or, if an attorney, by unskillful management he loses a case by which widows and or phans are robbed of their portion. Or, If a physician, he by malpractice gives his patint rapid transit from this world to the'uext. Our incompetent friend would have made a passable horse doctor, but be wanted to be professor of anatomy in a university. He could have sold enough confectionery to have supjiorted his fam ily, but he wanted to have a sugar refin ery like the liavemeyers. "He could have mended shoos, but he wanted to amend the constitution of the United States. To ward the end of life these people are out of patience, out of money, out of friends, out of everything. They go to the poor house, or keep out of it by running in debt to all the grocery and dry goods stores that will trust them. People begin to wonder when the curtain will drop on the scene. After awhile, leaving nothing but their compliments to pay doctor, under taker and Gabriel firubb, the gravedigger, they disappear. Exeunt! Hissed off the stage. A Moral Nuisance, Others fail in the drnma of life through demonstrated selfishness. They make all the rivers empty into their sea, all the roads of emolument end at their door, anl they gather all the plumes of honor for their brow. They help no one, encourage no one, rescue no one. "How big a pile of money can I get?" and "How much of the world can I absorb?" are the chief questions. They feel about the common people as the Turks felt toward the Asupi, or common soldiers, considering them of no use except to fill up the ditches with their dead bodies while the other troop walked over them to take the fort. After awhile this prince of worldly success is sick. The only interest society has in his illness Is the effect that his possible de cease may have on the money markets. After awhile he dies. Great newspaper capitals announce how he started with nothing and ended with everything. Al though for sake of appearance sonic peo ple put handkerchiefs to the eye, there in not one genuine li-ar shed. The heirs sit up all night when he lies in slate, discuss ing what the old fellow has probably done with his money. It takes all the livery stables within two miles to furnish funer al equipages, and all the mourning stores are kept busy in selling weeds of grief. The stone cutters send in proposals for a monument. The minister at the obse quies reads of the resurrection, which makes the hearers fear that If the un scrupulous financier does come up In the general rising, he will try to get a "cor ner" on tombstones and graveyard fences. All good men are glad that the moral nui sance has been removed. The Wall street speculators are glad because there Is more room for themselves. The heirs are glad because they get possession of the long delayed Inheritance. Dropping every feather of all his plumes, every certificate of all his stock, every bond of all his In vestments, every dollar of all his for tune, he departs, anil all the rolling of "Dead March" In "Haul," and all the pageantry of his interment, aud all the ex quisiteness ot sarcophagus, anil all the extravagance of ppllnphology, cannot hide the fact that my text has come again to tremendous fulfillment, "Men shall clap their hands at him and shall hiss him out of his place." You see the chipping comes before the hiss. The world cheers before it damns. So it is said the deadly asp tickles before It stings. Going up, Is he? Hurrah! Stand back and let his galloping horse dash by, a whirlwind of plated harness and tinkling headgear and arched neck. 1 'rink deep of his madeira and cognac. Boast of how well you know him. All hats art as he passes. Bask for days and years in the sunlight of his prosperity. Going down, la hei Pretend to be near sighted so that you cannot see him as he walk past. When man ask you if you know him, halt and hesitate as though you were trying to call up a dim memory and say, "Well, y-e-s, yes, I believe I once did know him, but have not seen him for a long while." Cross a different ferry from the one where you nsed to meet him lest be ask for financial help. When you started life, be spoke a good word for you at the bank. Talk down hia credit dow that hia fortunes are collapsing. He put hie name on two of your note. Tell him that you have changed your mind about sock things, and that yon never indorse. After awhile his matters eeaae to a dead halt, and an assignment or ana pension or sheriff sale takes place. You say: "He ought to have stopped sooner. Just as I expected. He made too big a splash in the world. Glad the balloon has burst. Ha, ha!" Applause when be went up, sibilant derision when he came down. "Men shall clap their hand at him and hiss him out of bis place." So, high up amid the crags, the eagle flutters dust into the eyes of the roebuck, which then, with eye blinded, goes tumbling over the precipice, the great antler craeV log on the rock. Consecrated to God. Now, compare aome of these goings oat of life with the departure of men and women who in the drama of life take the part that God assigned them and then went away honored of men and applaud ed of the Lord Almighty. It is about flfty year ago that in a comparatively assail apartment of the city a newly married pair set up a home. The first guest in vited to that residence was the Lord Jesus Christ, and the Bible given the bride on the day of her espousal was the guide of that household. Day of sun shine were followed by day of shadow. Did you ever know a home that for fifty year had no vicissitude? The young woman who left her father's house for her young husband's home started out with a paternal lenediction and good advice she will never forget. Her mother said to her the day before the marriage: "Now, my child, you are going away from u. Of course, as long as your father and I live you will feel that you can come to os at any time. But your borne will be else where. From long experience I find It Is best to serve God. It is very bright with you now, my child, and you may think you can get along without religion, but the day will come when you will want God, and my advice is, establish a family altar, and, If need be, conduct the worship your self." The counsel was taken, and that young wife consecrated every room in the house to God. Y'ears passed on and there were In that home hilarities, but tbey were good and healthful, and sorrows, but they were comforted. Marriage as bright a orange blossoms could make them, and burials In which all hearts were riven. They have a family lot in the cemetery, but all the place ia Illuminated with stories of resurrection and reunion. The children of the household that lived have grown up. and they are all Christians, the father and mother leading the way and the chil dren following. What care the mother took of wardrobe and education, charac ter and manners! How bard she some times worked! When the head of the household was unfortunate in business, he sewed until her finger were numb and bleeding at the tips. And what close calculation of economies and what in genuity in refitting the garments of the elder children for the younger, anVl only God kept account of that mother's side aches and headaches and heartache and the tremulous prayers by the side of the sick child's cradle and by the couch of this one fully grown. The neighbors often noticed how tired she looked, and old ac quaintances hardly knew her in the street. But without complaint she waited and toiled and endured and accomplished all these years. The children are out in the world an honor to themselves and their parents. After awhile the mother's last sickness comes. Children and grandchil dren, summoned from afar, come softly into the room one by one, for she is too w eak to see more than one at a time. She runs her dying fingers iovingly through their hair aud tells them not to cry, and t lint she Is going now, but they will meet r i it :i i n in a little while in a better world, and then kUnes them good-by and says to each, "God bless and keep you, my dear child." The day of the obsequies comes, and the olficinting clergyman tells the story of wifely and motherly endur ance, and many hearts on earth and in heaven echo the sentiment, and as she is carried oft" the stage of this mortal life there are cries of "Faithful unto death," "She hath done what she could," while overpowering all the voices of earth and lieu ren is the plaudit of the God who watched her from first to last, saying, "Well done, good and faithful servant; thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler over many things; enter thou into the joy of thy I,ord!" The Choice. But what Is-came of the father of that household? He started an n young man in business and had a small income, ami having got a little ahead sickness in the family swept It all away. He went through all the business panics of forty years, met many losses, and suffered many betrayals, but kept right on trust ing in God, whether business was good or poor, setting his children a good exam ple, and giving them the best of counsel, and never a prayer did he offer tor all those years but they were mentioned in it. He is old now and realizes it cannot be long before he must quit all these scenes. But he is going to leave his chil dren an inheritance of prayer and Chris tian principles which all the defalcations of earth can never touch, and as he goes out of the world the church of God blesses him and the poor ring his doorbell to see if he is any better, and his grave Is sur rounded by a multitude who went on foot and stood there before the procession of carriages came up, and some say, "There will b no one to take bis place," and others say, "Who will pity me now?" and others remark, "He Shall be held In ever lasting remembrance." And as the drama nf his life closes, all the vociferation and bravo and encores that ever shook the amphitheaters of earthly spectacle were tame and feeble compared with the long, loud thunders of approval that shall break from the cloud of witnesses In the piled up gallery of the heaven. Choose y be tween the life that ahall close by being hissed off the stsge and the life that shall close amid acclamation supernal and srchsngellc. Astronomers calculate that tbe sur face of tbe earth contains 81.025,u2S square mils, of which 2S.S14.U1 are water and 7,811,504 are land, the water thus covering about seven-tenth of tbe earth's surface. UP the long and slanting bill slope a man's figure went slow ly, plodding onward after a sturdy black mare and turning up the ground between two tall rows of corn, which at times bid blm completely from view. The shoulders under the straw hat proclaimed bim young and manly, and tbe steadiness with whlcn he went forward and bis short stop at the top of the slope bespoke him a man of pur pose. Then came galloping through tbe white dust of the road below a lanky boy on a roan horse, In whose reins was the racing blood of generations. Clear and flutelike came tb call, ''Mar lon; oh, Marlon!" Marion, handsome Marion, came lei surely up to the rails. He did not ex pect any letters and was not excite L However, the boy knew hia uowh was worth attention and burst out Impet uously, "Yer won't be so cool when ye have heerd It, either. Beck Bailey s man Is dead." He bad the gratification of seeing Marlon grow pale to bis lips. "What killed 'im?" "The doctors air callln' It blood rd en," returned the boy. "Say, Marion, they're glttln' thar hot fut. I seen Tom Pence hltchln' up and Cunnel Will lies been thar high an' dry seuee the turn kum." Still Marlon did not speak, but the boy saw tits lips tremble. "Run along, Pete, with the mail. Folks'U all be waiting," he said, and Teter, disappointed at nothing more definite, dug his heels Into tbe colt and dashed away. Then the man unhitched Dolly and, mounted on her bare back, rode down the lane Into the sunlit woods, on, on, without path or guide post, deep Into the woods until he was sure he was for enough from human beings to be safe. And then, with a shout Jubilnnt euougn to frighten the black mare, he threw back his head and laughed, a sonorous peal that astonished himself. He kuaw ho was happy and he had come awaj here to fight the Impetuous demons of newly aroused passion aud eagerness until he could subline them enough to txi decorous before the world. For he had loved Beck Bailey when she was a slip of a girl, and as a young woman, and when she had married another he bad come away here In the woods to fight out his hatred and misery and re bellion. Nature, dear mother, had calmed him and he even became resign ed. But Beck Bailey's man was dead, and she was free, and the heart of the man went after her as a bird after the home nest. Beck! slim, sweet Been, with her laughing, mocking mouth ami wonderful, changful eyes! She should be bis for what cared he for Tom Pence and even Colonel Will, the old. bowing, smirking beau. He would go down with the country side and see Beck at the "berryln'," but not before, oh, no! he could wait awhile now. The "berryln' " was a great affair. The Baileys' house hail been thronged for days, and Beck kept up by a con tinual state of excitement. It was all grist to her mill, for slit; loved "som--thlu' goln' on," and In this case was al most wild, besides, with a sense of freedom and relief. Iter new black clothes made her look "mighty peart," as the women tut Id, and she was the adored ami center idol of everyone, pet ted and condoled with, cried over and appealed to for advice ami assistance In planning the great funeral. Never hnd quiet Edward Bailey made such a stir In the world as now, when, quieter than ever, lie lay In state in his black coffin, one "with solid handles." The traditional ceremonies were nil gone through with, the weeping, wnil j Ing, t he dolorous hymning of quavering I voices, the sermon, long ami full of ou I logy, the farewell to the dead, at which I Becky fainted dramatically Into her father's arms, ami the slow walk to the graviard near, a long procession of the country people following. It was all over and as nightfall came on the crowd dispersed, wondering what "Beck wild do Jlst at fust, an' who'd git er." For not one had missed Tom Pence nt tbe "berryln' " with his pleasant, jo vial face and smiling eyes, nor Marlon Moore, silent and watchful, nor the "ole Gunnel mussln' aroun'." They had all ben to "berryln's" before and they all knew Becky Bailey. It was only four years since she set the country mad with her beaux and her fun and her daring escapades. And now she was, a widow, rich, handsomer than ever. "An' ef the ole Nick hain't let ' loose In these palrits, I'm a coon," said her own uncle In tbe bosom of his family. In four weeks some one met Beck out riding with the "Gunnel." The news went like wildfire. Aunt Dllsay went over to see Deck. She found ber In her white dress, lying In ham mock reading a nor. "Whatever air you doln', Beck?" she said. "What I please and plum enjoyin' it," said Becky. "Yeh able to be lazy," sighed Aunt Dlraey, "but I wouldn't go ridin Jest ylt." Beck's handsome eyes smiled. "I wud," she said, "do Jlst exactly what I pleased. I'm rich an' I'm free, an' I'm goln' to enjoy life, an' yer can save yerselves a power by shettin' up." "Then," said Aunt Dilsey, "she curl ed up Hke a young cat an' I cudn't get another word out'n her." Tbe next Sunday nlgbt there were ten saddle horses and buggies tied to the posts aud the fence. Beck never enjoyed anything so much in her life. She treated everyone alike, gave them cake and home-made wine, laughed. Joked and turned them all out at 10 o'clock, Inviting them to call again. But the next Sunday night there was no Becky at borne, and she electrified tbe small audience at the Methodist church at the cross-roads by appearing among them with a stripling cousin of 17. During these days Marlon Moore never appeared at the Bailey house, nor formed one of the young men, aye, even the middle-aged and obi men, who never failed to crowd about the young widow whenever she rode into the county town on Sunday afternoon. Being the only man she missed, Beck grew restive, and one October day, when Marlou was clearing up a new bit of ground for the spring tobacco, she came riding down the lane toward him, her black skirts flying, her cheeks blazing and her tendrll-llke curls all falling down from under her black cap. He saw her coming, away off, and he knew the errand on which she came, and he had to steel his heart against her to hold his vantage ground. Handsome, stalwart, Drawny, he rest ed on his ax calmly, though the blood In his veins ran as riotous a course as Is a brook's after a storm. How Beck laughed as she drew up! "I haven't been up here for years," she said. "Come over to the cliff, Mar lon. I'll walk Black Nell." "I must work, Beck," he said. "Life Isn't play all around, ye know." ' "Which means ye won't," she smiled. "But I know yer want to go, plum bad! Ye' re play In' a losin' game, Mar ion, fur I know by yer eye that ye're Jest the same as ye were," and she laughed tnntallzingly. "Don't thlnl yer can fool me, Marion." He threw his ax dowc with angry vehemence and stood looking at her. 'I don't know whether ye're a witch or what," he said, hoarsely. "I am Jest the same, Beck, an' yer want to look out. I can't stand foolin'." "I won't marry ag'lu, I'm goln' to enjoy I'fe," site mocked. "What's the use of my mnrryln'? I've got money and laud and years of good times ahead o' me. What'd I git In ex change?" Marlon never answered except by his persistent gaze. "Good-by," she said presently; "ye're In too bad a humor. Ye're takin' life too serious, Marlon. There's more'n gray skies alxve my head. Give me the blue ones." Then she galloped away to the bluffs and Marlon's tem ple of nature, high in the woods above the river. He half faucled she would come back his way; but ro. The after noon wore away and no lithe, slim figure on a black mare appeared on bis horizon. So she knew, and. since she knew, she mocked him. Well, he had al ways loved the brier rose. How could he tame this untamable tignss, this gucKser of men's secrets and mocker of men's loves? Tim Intuitions of Mar lou Moore were better than his knowl edge or his reason. He guessed that only a real, lasting affection would ever make her more faithful, more tender, more true than any other wom anbut how, how, Indeed, was this to come to her?" The mad reports went flying hither and thither. Becky was here, there, everywhere. It was Colonel Will and Tom Pence and Arthur Smedley aud Henry Carroll. The widow's bonnet was now never worn, and bows of lavendar and elaborate black and white toilets were sent for to Cincin nati, and cooking and feasting and fun went on In the Bailey house. Thanksgiving came and Beck was the queen of the Pence family ga:herln,r that day. One morning Marlon Moore was near his favorite wood haunt, and stopped to look over the fair valley and the Infinite hills spread out before him, like a beautiful winter picture. As he stood quiet there fell from the great tree bealde htm something rustling and dark and green, a lovely piece of the native mistletoe, with lui waxen ber ries thick and plentiful A smile cause to Marion's face. He had been sent a token, and one he would accept He would hesitate no longer. He took his bunch of mistletoe and walked away. He would become the wooer, for nature, whom he trusted, had aent him a token. He dressed himself with care and rode his fine chestnut bora up to the side gate in the bine, lead ing to the cluster of cabins that long ago have been the "quarters," but now were turned to various uses. Becky, wrapped in a gay shawl he well re membered, was giving direction to some men at work inside the nearest building. It was Just sunset. Per haps nothing In the world had eror seemed so fair to Marion Mooro as this saucy and careless creature, who greeted him with a cool triumph which he had expected and ignored. He ac cepted her Invitation to supper and walked by her aide to see the promis ing colts in the barn lot. Then they went into the bouse, and Marlon pro ceeded to make himself comfortable In a very matter of fact way. Ha looked critically about, much to Becky's astonishment "Whatever air yer lookiu' about fur, Marion?" "Seein' ef this house Is as comfort able as mine," he made reply. "Well, it plum is, Marion," she re plied, forced into earnestness. "The outlook is better with yer all, but this house has more comforts." "We could soon put some of 'em inter mine," he replied musingly. "We?" "Yes, yer an' I." "Yer takin' a deal fer granted, 'pears ter me. I don't Intend ter leave here." "Oh, well, we could live here. It Is all one ter me, so it Is where ye're llvin'." "I'm bespoke yer askin' by two, Mar lon. 'Pears like the men are all crazy." "You're good temptation, Beck, but no one else shall have ye," he said. Her eyes grew luminous. "Well, now, what would yer do ef yen beard I was off on the marry with one ' the others?" "Don't yer try it!" She was up in arms in a minute. "I'm not tellln' you anything, but yer all air too heady with me, Marion. I got an engagement to go to Cincinnati to-morrow, an' ef I say the word what's ter prevent me eomin' back married''" Marion was quite white, but was equally determined. "Ef yer go, of course I'll know It's all up. I'll be at the turn of the road at any time set. That'll end it fer me, whichever way. Lord, yer're a hard one! I won't stay to supper. I'll never sit down ter supper here 'less It's as master. . What time'll yer go?" She set her lips. "Noon!" was all she replied. He put on his coat and bat. "I wish when I think o' some things I'd never seen yer, little or big, girl or wldder, but when I go out In the woods and see the wild, sweet things runnin' 'riot around I can't help lovln' yer. It Is born in me." Then he went out, having tossed to her the fresh branch of mistletoe, aud thus left her the memory of a day, long ago, when they were little more than children and he had taken hf-r out to gather some of the weird, waxen berried growth, and had kissed her, the first kiss of love and desire she had ever known, and the memory of which had never left her. The next day at noon Marion sat grim and silent on his horse at tne turn, lie held his slight whip In Lis hand, but he grasped it like a waipon. He could not keep one thought from returning Itself again and again. He could not let that man live who would carry Becky Bailey away from him. When he heard the sound of wheels he got off from the restless horse he rode,' fastened him, stood erect," and braced himself for the ordeal. The buggy came nearer. He drew an aw ful breath as he recognized the horse. It was Colonel Will's Flighty Dan, famed through the country. It was that old profligate, was It, who was to win the brier rose? An awful sing ing rhythm In his brain went saying: "Kill him, kill bim, kill him!",, What Marlon would have done he 'uevei' knew, but the buggy stopped and Becky, in nil her dark furs and flutter ing feathers, came running toward him, holding out her hands and cry ing. "I don't want ter go to Cincinnati, Marlon, an' we'll live In whichever house yer like, for I've been flghtln' my feelln's for you all the time,, an' I won't give up ter no other one. Take me home, Marion, an' I'm pluta tired o' bolu' wild. I want ter live quleter'n anyone." The colonel drove Flighty Dan an Into Cincinnati alone, and Becky went with Marlon along the homeward road, she riding the chestnut and trioIon walking, and there was no wild bird that had ever built nest In the wood lands near that was as contented as this wayward creature who had at last been conquered by her best feelings, Household Words. Only One Worse. Gloacchlno Itosslnl, who was a great jester, was once seen embracing a Spaniard with great effusion. Asked the reason, he replied: 1 "Because without Spain we would ba the last nation." , '