The Sioux County journal. (Harrison, Nebraska) 1888-1899, October 15, 1896, Image 1

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page. It is also available as plain text as well as XML.

    The Sioux County Journal,
VOLUME IX.
HARKISOX, NEBRASKA THURSDAY, OCTOBER 15, 189(5.
NUMBER 6.
TALMAGE'S SERMON.
THE PREACHER TALKS FROM
NEGLECTED TEXT.
"And I Will Make Thy Window of
A tea and ThrOatea of Carbuncle"
How Christ Hoiated the Great Galea
of Pardon in HU Own Blood.
Wlndowi and Gate.
From a neglected text, and one to moiit
people unknown, Rev. Dr. Taluiuge Sun
day morning produced a sermon appropri
ate to .individual and national cin-n in
stance. The subject was, "Gates of Car
buncle." -the text being Isaiah lit., 12,
"And I will make thy windows of agates
and thy gates of carbuncles."
Perhaps because a human disease of
most painful and ofttimes fatal character
i named after it the church and the world
have never done justice to that intense
and all suggestive precious atone, the car
buncle. The pearl that Christ picked up
to illustrate his sermon, and the jasper
and the sapphire and the amethyst which
the apocalyptic viainn masoned Into the
wall of heaven, have had proper recogni
tion, but this, in nil the agon, i the first
sermon on the carbuncle.
Thin precious atone ia found in the East
Indlea, in color nn InteriKe scarlet, and
held up between jour eye and the ami it ia
a burning coal. The poet puts it into
rhythm its he writea:
Like to the burning coal whence cornea its
name,
Among the Greek aa Anthrax known to
fume.
God acta it high up in Bible cryatallog
raphy. lie nils it with a divine rhiael,
ahapea it with a precise geometry mid kin
dlea ita fire into nn almost supernatural
flame of beauty. Ita law of symmetry.
Ita law of Zones, it h law of parallelism,
aomething t.'i excite the amazement of the
scientist, chime the enntoa of the poet
and arouse the adoration of the Chris
tian. None but God.
No one but the infinite God could fash
ion a carbuncle a large, an your thumb
nail, and aa if to make silages appreciate
thia precious alone he ordered it aet in the
6rt row of the high priest's breastplate
in olden time and higher up t hit n the onyx
and the emerald and the diamond, and in
Kxekiel's prophecies concerning the splen
dors of the Tyriitn court the carbuncle ia
mentioned, the brilliancies of the wulls
and of the tessellated floora suggested by
the Bible sentence, "Thou hast walked
tip and down In the tultlat of the atonea of
fire!" But in my text it la not a solitary
specimen that I hand you, aa the keeper of
a museum might take down from the shelf
a precioua atone and allow yon to examine
it. Nor is it the panel of a door that yon
might stand and study for Ita unique curv
ing or bronzed traceries, but there is a
whole gate of it lifted before our admiring
and astounding visionaye, two gates of
it aye, many gates of it, "I will make thy
gates of carbuncles." What gates? Gates
of the church. Gates of anything worth
possessing. Gates of successful enter
prise. Gates of salvation. Gates of na
tional achievement. Isaiah, who wrote
this text, wrote also all that atmut Christ
"as the Lamb to the slaughter," ami sHike
of Christ as saying, "I have trod the wine
press alone," and wrote, "Who la this
that eometh from IMoin, with dyed gar
ments from Bozrah?" And do you think
ihnt Isaiah in my text merely happened
to represent the gates as red gates, as car
mine gates, as gates of carbuncle? No.
lie means that it is through atonement,
through blood red struggle, through agon
ies, we get into anything worth getting
into.
Gates Deeply Dyed.
Heaven's gates may well be made of
pearl, a bright pellucid, cheerful crystal
ligation, because all the struggles are
over, and there are beyond those gates
nothing but raptures and cantata and tri
umphal procession and everlasting holi
day and kiss of reunion, and so the twelve
gates are twelve pearls, and could be
nothing else than pearls. But Christ
hoisted the gates of pardon In his own
blood, and the marks of eight fingers and
two thumbs are on each gale, and as he
lifted the gate It leaned against bis fore
bead and took from it crimson impress,
and all those gates are deeply dyed, and
Isaiah was right when he spoke of those
gates aa gates of carbuncle.
What an odd thing it is, think some,
this idea of vicarious- suffering, or suffer
ing for others! Not at all. The world has
seen vicarious suffering millions of times
liefore Christ came and demonstrated it
nn a scale that eclipsed all that went be
fore and all that shall come after. IUchel
lived only long enough after the birth of
her son to give him a name. In faint
whisper ahe said, "Call him Bcn-otii."
which tueana "son of my pain," and all
modem travelers on tha road from Jeru
salem to Bethel uncover their heads and
stand reverently at the tomb of Rachel,
who died for her boy. But in all ages,
how many mothers die for their children,
and in many cases, grown-up children,
who by recreancy stab clear through the
mother's heart! Buffering for others?
Why, the world is full of it.
Died at Hi Poat.
"Jump!" said tbe engineer to the fire
man on the locomotive. "One of mis is
enough to die. Jump!" And so the en
gineer died at his post, trying to save the
train. When thia summer the two trains
crashed into each ether near Atlantic
City, among the forty-seven who lost
their lives, the engineer was found dead,
w ith one hand on the throttle of the loco
motive and the other on the brake, aye,
there are hundreds here to-day suffering
for others. You know and God knows
that It la vicarious sacrifice. But on one
limestone hill about twice tbe height of
this church, fire minutes' walk from the
gates of Jerusalem, was the anbllmest
case of suffering for others the world ever
saw or aver will see. Christ was the vie
tin, human and satanlc malevolence tha
extcationar, tbs whole human race having
an overwhelming Interest In tha spectacle.
To open way for na atnfal man and sin
fal wastes Into gtork pardon and high
hope and eternal exultation Christ, with
band dripping with the rush of opened
arteries, swung back the gate, and, be
hold, it la a red gate, a gate of deepest
bite, a gate of carbuncle!.
What is true In spirituals is true in tem
porals. There are young men and older
men who hope, through the right settle
ment of this acrid controversy between ail
ver and gold, or the bimetallic quarrel,
that it will become easy to wake a living.
That time will never come. It never has
been easy to make a living. The men who
have it very easy now went through hard
ships and self-denials to which most young
men would never consent, t'nlcss they
got it by inheritance you cannot mention
twenty men who have come to honorable
fortune that did not tight their way inch
by inch and against fearful odds that
again and again almost destroyed them.
For some good reason God has arranged it
for all the centuries that the only way for
most people to get a livelihood for them
selves and their families is with both
hands and all the allied forces of body,
mind ami soul to push buck and push
open the r-d gate, the gate of carbuncle.
For the benefit of all young men, if I had
the time, I would call the roll of those
who overcame obstacle. How ninny of
the mighty men who went one way on
Pennsylvania avenue and reached the
I'nited States Senate, or walked the other
way ou Pennsylvania avenue and reached
the White House, did not have to climb
over political obloquy? Not one. How
much scorn and scoff and brutal attack
did Horace Mann endure lietwcen the
time when he first began to fight for a
better common school system in .Massa
chusetts and the day when a statue in
honor of him was placed on the steps of
the (State House overlooking the Com
mons? I'ivinz Gates of Kcd Men.
Iiend the biography of Robert Hull, the
Baptist preacher, who, though lie hud
been pronounced a dunce at school, lived
to thrill the world with his Chris tin n elo
quence, and of George Penbody, who
never owned a carriage and denied him
self ail luxuries that he might while liv
ing and after death, through last will and
ttstiimctit, devote his uncounted millions
to the education of the poor people In Eng
land and America, and of Bishop Janes,
who in boyhood worked his passage from
Ireland to America and became the joy
of Methodism and a blessing to tbe race.
(Jo the biographical alcove , in city, State
or national library and find at least every
ether book nn illustration of overcome ob
siacle and of carmine gate that Imd to be
forced ojk-ii.
Wlmt is true of individuals is true of
nntions. Was it a mild spring morning
when the pilgrim fathers landed on Ply
mouth Rock, nml did they come in a
gilded yacht, gay streamers flying? No.
It was in cold leeember and from a ship
In which one would not want to cross the
Hudson or the Potomac River. Scalping
knives all ready to receive them, they
In ruled, their only welcome the IndUin
warwhoop. Red men on the beach. Rd
men In the forest.. Red men on the moun
tain. Red men in the valleys. Living
gntess of red men. Gates .f carbuncle!
A Htorx Never Told.
Aboriginal hostility pushed back, aurv
ly now our forefathers will have nothing
to do but to take easy possession of the
f.iiiest continent under the sun. The
skies' ao genial, the soil so fertile, the
rivers so populous with finny life, the
acreage so immense, there will be nothing
to do but cat, drink and be merry. No.
The most powerful nation, by army and
navy, sounded its protest across ,',( N K
mile of water. Then came Lexington
and Bunker Hill and Monmouth and
l.ong Island buttles and Valley Forge
end Yorktown mid starvation and widow
hood and orphanage, ami thirteen colonies
went through sufferings which the his
torian has attempted to pu upou wisr
and the artist to put upon canvas, but
all in vain. Engraver's knife and re
isirter's skill and telegraphic win- and
dully press, which have made us acquaint
ed with the horrors of modern battlefield,
had not yet begun their vigilance, and the
s'ory of the American revolution has
never been told and never will tie told.
It did not take much ink to sign the Dec
laration of Independence, but it took a
terrific amount of blood to maintain it. It
was an awful gate of opposition that the
nn n and women and the women as much
as the men pushed back. It was a gate
of self sacrifice. It was a gate of blood.
It was a gate of carbuncle.
We are not indebted to history for our
knowledge of the greatest of national (."ri
ses. Many of us remember it, and fa
thers arid mothers now living had better
keep 1 citing that stitw to their children,
so that instead of being dependent upon
cchl type and obliged to any, "On such n
Nige of such a book yon can read that,"
will they rather lie able to say, "My
father told m so." "My mother told me
so." Men and women who vividly re
number 1801 and 1MB and l&Si and 18(H,
be yourselves the historians, telling it,' hot
with peu, but with livhig tongue and
rdce and gesture. This is toe greatest
iu e of Memorial Decoration day, for the
calld lilies on the grave tops soon Iwcome
bieatliless of perfume, and in a week turn
to dust like unto that which lies beneath
them. But the story of courage and self
sacrifice and patriotism told on platforms
and in households and by the roadside and
lu churches and m cemeteries, by that
annual recital will be kept fresh in tlu
memory of generations aa long as our
American Institutions are worthy of pres
ervation. Long after you are dead your
children will be able to say, with tbe
psalmist, "We have heard with out ears,
U God! our fathers hare told u that work
ttiou didst In their days, in the times of
old." But what a time it was!
Tba Million of Haraft,
Four years of homesickness! Pour
years of brotherly and sisterly estrange
ment! Four years of martyrdom! Four
years of massacre! Pvt tbeut In a long
line, tha coanagratloc of cHles, and see
them light op a whole continent! Pot
them In kmc rows, the hospital, making
a vast metropolis of pain and paroxysm!
Gather them In one vast assemblage, tha
million of bereft from tha St Lawrence
to tha Oolf and from the Atlantic to the
Pacific beaches! Pat the teari late lakes,
and tbe blood into rivers, and the shrieks
into whirlwinds! During those four years
many good and wise men s the North
and tbe South saw nothing ahead but an
nihilation With such a national debt we
cruld never meet our obligations! With
such mortal antipathies Northern and
Southern men could never come into
amity! Representatives of Ixiuisiana and
Georgia and the Carolinas could never
again sit side by side with the representa
tives of Maine, Massachusetts and New
York at the national cajritol. Ixrd John
Russell had declared that we were "a
bubble bursting nationality," and it had
come true. The nations of Europe had
gathered with very resigned spirit at the
tuueral of our American republic. They
ha 1 tolled the bells on parliaments and
reiclwitags ami lowered their flags at Indf
mast, and even the Him on the other ride
of the sea had whined for the dead eagle
on this side. The deep grave had be-n
dug, and lwside Babylon and Thebes and
lyre and other dead nations of the psist
our dead republic was to be buried.
The Kpltaph.
The epitaph was all ready: "Here Ties
the American republic. Born at Phila
delphia. 4th of July, 1770. Killed at Bull
Run July 21, 18ll. Aged Kt years and 17
days. Pence to its ashes." But before
the obsequies had quite closed there was
an interruption of the ceremonies, and our
dead nation rose from its mortuary sur
soundings. God had made for it a spe
cial resurrection day and cried: "Come
forth, thou republic of Washington and
John Adams and Thomas Jefferson and
Patrick Henry and John Hancock and
Dniie! Webster and S. S. Prentiss and
Henry Olny! Come fin-th!" And ha
came forth, to lie stronger than she had
ever been. Her mightiest prosperities
have come since that time. Who would
w.int 1o push back this country to what
it whs in IStWt or 1KW But, oh, what
a high gate, what a strong gate, she had
to push luck before she could make one
step in advance! Gate of flume! See
Norfolk navy yard ajid Columbia and
('Lamhcrsburg and Charleston on fire!
Gate of bayonets! Si glittering rilles
and carbines flash from the Susquehanna
a;ul the James to the Mississippi and the
Arkansas! Gate of hoavy artillery, milk
ing the mountains of Tennessee and Ken
tucky and Virginia tremble In its Unt
agony. The gate was go fiery and so red
that I can think of nothing more appro
priate than to take the suggestion of
IsiiUih in the text and call It a gate of
carbuncles.
.Million Want Work.
Among what we considered comfortable
hoiiies have come privation and close cal
culation and an economy that kills. Mil
lions of people who say nothing about it
are at this moment at their wits' ends.
There nre millions of people who do
want charily!' but want work. The cry
has gone up to the ears of the "Lord of
Subaoth," and the prayer will be heard,
and relief will come. If we have nothing
better to deend on than American poli
tics, relief will never come. Whoever is
elected to the presidency, the wheels of
government turn so slowly and a caucus
in yonder white building on the hill may
tie the hands of any President. Now,
though we who live in the District of
Columbia, cannot vote, we can pray, and
my prayer day and night shall be: "O
God. hear the cry of the souls from under
the altar! Tbou, who hast brought the
wheat and corn of this season to such
magnitude of supply, give food to man and
lieast. Thou, who hadst not where to lay
thy head, pity the shelterless. Thou, who
hast brought to perfection the cotton of
the South and the flax of the North, clothe
the naked. Thou, who has filled the mino
with coal, give fuel to the shivering.
Bring bread to the body, intelligence to
the mind and salvation to the soul of all
the people! God save the nation!"
But we must admit it is a hard gate to
push tuuk. Millions of thin hands have
pushed at it without making it swing ou
its hard hinges. It Is a gate made out of
empty flour barrels and cold fire grates
and unmcdicated sickness and ghastliness
and horror. It is a gate of struggle. A
gate of disappointment. A red gate, or
what Isaiah would have called a gate of
carbuncles.
The Bitter Draft,
Now. as I have already suggested, as
there are obstacles In all our paths, wo
will.be happier if we consent to have our
life a struggle. In all styles of life there
come disappointment and struggle. God
has for some good reason arranged it so.
If it is not poverty, it is sickness. If it is
not sickness, It is persecution. If it is
not persecution, It is 'contest with some
evil apH-tite. If It is not some evil appe
tite, it is bereavement. If it not one
thing, it Is another. Do not get soured
and cross and think your case is peculiar.
You are just like tho rest of us. You will
have to take the bitter draft, whether it
be handed to you iu golden chalice or pew
ter mug. A man who has Jfl.thJO a year
Income sleeps sounder and has a better
appetite than the man who has tSKiU.iitK).,
If our life were not a struggle, we would
never consent to get out of this world,
and we would want to stay here, and so
block up the way of the advancing gen
erations. By the time that a man gets
to tie 7i years of age, and sometimes by
the time he gets to be .V) years of age, he
says, "I have bad enough of thia, and
when the Lord wills It I am ready to
emigrate to a country where there are no
taxes and the silver of the trumpet put
to one's Hps has no quarrel with the gold
of the pavement under his, feet," Wa
have in thia world more opportunity to
cultivate patience than to cultivate any
other grace. Let that grace be strength
ened In the royal gymnasium of obstacle
and opposition, and by the help of God,
having overcome our own hindrances and
worrlments, let us go forth to help others
whose straggle Is greater than our own.
Having ahoved back the carbuncle gate
for yourself to pass In and pass on and
paaa up, lend a hand to others that they
also may get through the red gate and
pass in and paaa on and pass up! My
hearers, It will be a great heaven for all
who get through, but the best heaven for
those who had on earth nothing but strug
gle. Blessed all thoee who, before they
entered tba gate of pearl passed through
the gate of carboacie!
THE ODD NUMBER. J
The short November afternoon wag
darkening, and tbe enow, falling stead
ily, melted as It fell, making the slush
still deeper.
Ou one of the etreet corners of an
Eastern cijy stood a girl playing a vio
lin; the wlhl, sweet notes pierced the
air and died away, and the girl held
ber chilled hand out to receive the
pennies offered her. Then ehe walked
on, only pausing to look through the
brilliantly lighted show windows at the
rich furs.
Fot aoine moments she stood, then,
drawing her old shawl closer, hurried
on. Over the bridge she passed and up
the dark street, entering one of the
bouses In a long row of tenement.
The great bare room, dimly lighted by
a lamp; tho rusty stove, and the fumes
of oil atruck the girl unpleasantly as
she threw open the door. By the win
dow sat a man busily mending an old
violin, while near blrn was a bench
strewn with tools.
"Here, father," she eald, coming over
and throwing some pennies on the
bench; "I stayed out nntil I whs chilled
through, and that Is all I could get"
TOC'LI. MAURY Blt-t, BKADftEX, OR
YOU'LL LBAVK HOME.
'you luwsy! It's because yon won't
work that you enn't get It. You're as
lazy and proud as your mother was
she'd rather freeze to death than ajk
a penny."
The girl stood by tbe stove, with one
foot resting on the fender. It was her
apparent indifference that rotwed the
auger of the man. lie spread the
money iu his palm, and counted It.
"Twenty cents, you lazy good-for-nothing.
How are we going to pay the
rent with that?"
The girl neither answered nor showed
that she had heard. Wben she had
partly dried her feet she went to the
cnpbonrd and, bringing some brown
bread and cheese, sat them on the ta
ble. She then wheeled her father's
chair to the bonrd, and sat down to the
cheerless supper. She broke off bits of
bread and ate as though unconscious of
what she was doing.
"You'd be glad enough to see your
father turned out, wouldn't you? Rent
coming duo and nothing to pay It
with." He waited for a reply, but the
girl hnd nothing to say.
"Three days more, then nothing to do
but freeze and starve to death," he con
tinued, watching closely to see the
effect. The face opposite remained
unchanged.
"Say, Sal," here the surly tone chang
ed into a coaxing whine. "Bill Bradden
waj around to-day again, and no says
he'd be willing and glad to marry you.
Now, Bradden' got money enough to
take us both In, and a good home for
your poor old "
The dark eyes slowly raised to his
great, glowing eyes, burning with rage
and scorn.
"I'd starve Ix'fore I'd marry that Bill
Krnddcti. ' I'd rather starve, anyway,
than live out this this what Is called
life."
"We'll see, my girl," was the reply,
spoken so quietly as to sound ominous.
"You'll marry Bill Bradden, or you'll
leave home."
"Homer and the girl laughed a mis
erable little laugh.
Nothing In the determined expression
of tbe girl betrayed the agitation In her
mind a she quietly rose and cleared
away the dishes, piling the crusts and
bits of cheese la the bowl for their
breakfast. Suddenly a figure passed
the window. In aa instant the girl
had sprung to the door and bolted It.
A loud rap sounded. She went on
putting away the supper things. The
vigorous pounding continued.
"Mai! Let me In."
She did not answer but slowly light
ed the candle and, paaaing the window
at which the man stood peering In,
went upstairs. She listened at tbe pipe
bole and heard ber father open the
door to admit the realtor.
"That girl of your I a rare one. Tba
minute she eeeu me coining she run
and bolta the door In my face. It
doesn't look very encouraging, eh, Gar
rick 7"
"Just 7011 have patience, Bradden.
The girl's got to have some of the stub
bornness knocked out of her, that's all.
But say, old fellow, about the cash.
It's agreed and written down In black
and white that you are to band it over
the night you marry her?"
"That's the bargain. The girl's a
prize and I'm willing to pay well for
her. Clip her wings Garrlck, that It
will be straight sailing.
"Let me see this Is the 12th. Three
days more and then Say, Bradden,
whit do you say to doing the thing up
to-morrow nlgbt? She'd be just as
wnlli'ig then as she would a year from
now. Shall we go ahead?"
Then they laughed together and
shook hands. Sal strained her ears,
but could hear nothing more but tbe
click of glasses.
"Oh, how cold It is," she half moan
ed. "Inside Inside I am freezing my
heart Is turning to stone and my blood
Is like cold water; but my braiii Is not
yet numb I can think."
She heard the door open and Bill
Bradden go out. Creeping noiselessly
down the stairs, she laid the bundle
down and put on ber bonnet and shawl,
then wulked over and looked long at
the unconscious face of ber father as
he sat In a heavy stupor In his chair
with head fallen on his breast.
"I have done the best I could by
you, father. I hare tried and failed.
I won't stay and be made to marry
that man. No! not even to save the
roof over your head."
The girl opened the window a trifle,
picked up her bundle and violin, and,
blowing out the light, feft the nowise.
Tsui Oldfleld sat reading before the
fire. In his little back parlor. The blnze
lighted and shadowed the walls lined
with books old, musty books whk
haJ lain for years waiting to be claim
ed; the little room was oddly furnished
In quaint pieces, also waiting to be
claimed, for Paul Oldfleld was a pawn
broker, as his father had been before
him. , '
The door opened, Jingling the bell on
Its wire. The pawner drew aside the
chintz curtain and entered the shop.
Before the Counter stood Snl Garrlck.
"You can sell my things." she said.
"I can't redeem then), and you needn't
save them any longer." As she sike
she looked at a bracelet and a bunch of
brown curls in the case.
"I can keep them a while longer, Miss
tin -rick. Just to-day a woman wanted
the curls, but I told her the time was
not up. If if you could pay the Inter
est." He watched the girl's face as she
gazed steadily at her treasures. She
slowly raised her eyes; they were glis
ten. tig with tears.
"It's no use, Mr. Oldfleld. I can't do
It. Mother will know 1 tried to keep
thi'tii, but couldn't
"Anything I can do for you, Mfs Gar
rick?" 'Well yes. I don't suppose you ever
limit money on people do you?"
The broker was surprised and puz
zled "!t . she went on. "I must
have money to keep father from being
"I HAVE DON THR BUST I 00171.0 BV
TOV, FATHER.
turned into the afreet. T can't make
eno' gh by playing to pay up the back
rent, and I thought I could pawn my
self' "Why, yes, I could loan money on
you, though I have never done It be
fore. How much do you need?"
"Twelve dollar. Oh, Mr. Oldfleld, I
will play on the street night and day
to pay the Interest and redeem my
self.' ' Take your time about It, Mlsa Oar
rick I am not in any hurry," be said,
making out the ticket and handing It to
her.
It waa midnight when be locked the
ahop and put out the right, after first
taking a bracelet and a bunch of curt
from the case, and laying; them cara
ful?y In a box.
Sal Garrick grasped the money in oaw
hand and her violin and bundle in that
other, as she almost ran along tba
streets. Going home, she slipped the
packet through the ptrtly opened win
dow and heard it fall on tbe floor, then
went on.
Sbe had walked a long distance when
she entered a lodging house and paid
the price of a bed. The adjoining room
was well filled with cots, and Sal Gar
rlck looked cautiously about at the
sleepers before taking a paper from
her pocket. It was a pawn ticket. By
the light of the candle she read:
"International Loan Office,
"No. 205. Nov. 12, '93.
"Received the following goods, th
perr,on of Sal Garrlck, who will be sub
ject to conditions herein contained as
security for twelve dollars (12).
"To be paid in one month from this
date with 10 per cent per month addi
tion for interest, and in default of pay
men thereof, the undersigned la au
thorized to sell the same at any pubtlc
auction.
PAI L OLDKIELD, C Penn Street."
"No. 205," she murmured. "Alway
the odd number. All my life I have
been the odd one. The world didn't
want me and has no place for me."
.
It was Christinas night Paul Old
field sat by his fire, idly watching the
bright coals and thinking, thinking, al
ways thinking. He was thinking of the
wittful, earnest face of Sal Garrlck, of
the poverty and unhappluess crowded
Into that young life. He was thinking
of hiK own life; solitary, lonely, almost
' JilN R BV CONSKXT A A T-s WtttWT P -'
LAW."
melancholy in the monotony of its days.
Just then the bell tinkled. He went
into the shop and found Sal Garrlck
gazing intently Into the case.
"You have sold them, then?" Her
voice trembled In spite of her effort to
hid; her disappointment.
"Miss Gnrrick, I couldn't "
'Mr. Oldfleld," she interrupted, "the
loan Is due overdue. 1 have sent the
little I could pick up to father, and
there is none left for Interest. Take
this take It!" she demanded, shoving
the violin on the counter. "I won't
need It any more."
The broker started as he saw the ex
pression In her eyes wild, desperate,
determined. He took the girl's hand
and drew her toward him.
The loan Is up," he said slowly. "In
default of payment thereof, the broker
is authorized to take Into his possession
that which is deposited, to protect and
love as he lins never loved iu all his
empty, lonely life. Sal, will you marry
me?"
She thrust the pawn ticket in his
hand.
"It's the odd number that's not re
deemed take It," she said, wearily, and
Pau' Oldfleld kissed the beautiful up
turned face and held her in his arms,
say'ng, "Mine my own by consent
and "Ight of law."
Napoleon Alter the Battle of Dresden
Prof. Sloane's "Life of Napoleon," In
the Century, takes up the "Collapse of
tbe Western Empire." In describing
the end of the X3rand Army after th
battle of Dresden, Prof, gloane says:
The night of the 7th was spent In Inde
cision as to any one or all of these ideas,
but in active preparation for the re
treat; any contingency might be met or
a resolve taken when the necessity
arose. During that night the Emperor
took two warm baths. The habit of
drinking strong coffee to prevent drow-.
sines had Induced attacks of nervous
ness, and these were not diminished
by his load of rare. To allay these and
other ailments, he had had recourse fot
some time to frequent tepid baths.
Much has been written about a myste
rious malady which hnd been steadily
Increasing, but the burden of testimony
from the Emperor's closest associate
at this time Indicates that In tbe main
he had enjoyed excellent health
throughout the second Saxon campaign.
There were certainly Interval of self
Indulgence and of lassitude, of excess
ive emotloti and depresalng elf-examl&
atlon, which seemed to require tba off
set of a physical stimulus; but of tba
whole, natural causes, complex but not
Inexplicable, sufficiently account fot
the subsequent disasters. '
We refuse to feel nattered by tba so
licitude with which a man who, bgj
somathlng to sell Inquires about otT
health. ,rr. -, ... w,-, , (
Wben a mail talks to htoaaekf, wtsci
thera Is a woman around, be la a c
tag anything complimentary ( gj T"!
K
' r
,t
'
e
1
4.
' 5.
ie
J
)'
,d
te
H
is
I-
6'
$