The Loup City northwestern. (Loup City, Neb.) 189?-1917, May 28, 1897, Image 4

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•"Truly," replied the Doctor with a
sbruf, "you have your finger on the
fellah. Jle will be strikingly antipa
thetic to my beautiful Anastasle. She
Will asver understand him; he will
•ever understand her. You married the
Animal side of my nature, dear; and It
Vl pu the spiritual side that 1 find tny
affinity in Jean-Marie. So much ho,
that, to he perfectly frank, I stand in
some awe of him myself. You will
easily perceive that I am announcing
a calamity for you. Do not.” he broke
eut in tones of real solicitude 'do not
Itva way to tears after a meal. Anas- j
tasle. You will certainly give yourself
a false digestion."
Anastasle controlled herself. "You
know how willing 1 am to humor you,”
she said, “In all reasonable matters.
But on this point.—”
"My dear love,” Interrupted the Doc
tor, eager to prevent a refusal, "who
wished to leave Paris? who made me
0ve up cards, and the opera, and the
boulevard, and my social relations, and
•II that was my life before I knew you?
Have I been faithful? Have I been
Obedient? Have I not borne my doom
With cheerfulness? In all honesty,
Anastasle, have 1 not. a right to a stipu
lation on my side? I have, and you
know it. 1 stipulate my son.”
f Anastasle was aware of defeat! she
•truck her colors Instantly. "You will
break my heart," she sighed.
"Not in the least,” said he. “You
Will feel a trilling inconvenience for a
Sooth Ju st as f did when I was first |
band to keep a menagerie in the back
garden, let alone adopting a stable
boy, rather than permit the question ol
return to bo discussed.
^ , CHAPTER IV.
UOL'T four of the
afternoon, the
mountebank ren
dered up his ghost;
he had never been
conscious since his
seizure. Doctor
Desprez wns pres
ent ut his last pas
sage, and declared
the farce over.
Then he took Jean
Marie by the shoulder and led him out
Into the inn garden where there was a
convenient hem h beside the river. Here
he sat him down and made the boy
plaee himself on his left.
•Mean-Marie," he said, very gravely,
“this world Is exceedingly vast; and
even France, which Is only a small
corner of It, Is a great place for a
little lad like you. Unfortunately It Is
full of eager, shouldering people mov
ing on; and there are very few bakers’
shops for so many eaters. Vour master
Is dead; you are not fit to gain a living
by yourself; you do not wish to steal?
No. Tour situation then is undesir
able; It Is, for the moment, critical.
On the other hand, you behold In me a
man not old, though elderly, still en
joying the youth of the heart and the
Intelligence; a man of instruction;
easily situated In this world's affairs;
beside Gretz. 1 should lie under a
water-lily and listen to the bells, which
must sound most delicately down be
ldw. That would be a life—do you not
think so, too?”
"Yes," said Jean-Marie.
"Thank God, you have imagination!''
cried the Doctor, embracing the boy
with uts usual effusive warmth, though
it was a proceeding that seemed to dia
concert the sufferer almost as much as
it he had been an English schoolboy of
the same age. "And now,” he added,
"I will lake you to my wife.”
The Doctor went through a solemn
form of Introduction, adding, for the
benefit of both parties. “You must try
to like each other for my sake.”
"He l« very pretty,” said Anastasle.
"Will j»»u kiss me, my pretty llttlo
fellow?”
The Doctor was furious, and dragged
her Into the passage. "Are you a fool,
Anastasle?” he said. "What Is all this
I hear about the tact of women?
Heaven knows, I have not met with It
In toy experience. You address my
little philosopher as If he were an in
fant. He must be spoken to with more
respect, l tell you; he must not be
kissed and Georgy-porgy’d like an or
dinary child.”
"I only did it to please you, I am
sure,” replied Anastasle; “but I will try
to do better.”
The Doctor apologized tor his
warmth. "But I do wish him,” he con
tinued, "to feel at home among us.
And really your conduct was so Idiotic,
my cherished one, and so utterly and
distantly out. of place, that a saint
might have been pardoned a little ve
hemence In disapproval. Do, do try -If
It is possible for u woman to under
stand young people -but of course It Is
not, and I waste my breath, Hold
your tongue as much as possible at
least, and observe my conduct nar
rowly; It will serve you for a model."
Anastasle did as she was bidden, and
considered the Doctor's behavior. She
observed' that he embraced the boy
three times In the course of the even
ing, and managed generally to con
found and abash the little fellow out of
speech and appetite. But she had the
u' **4**. * ** TOOK HIM IN HER ARMS. , ‘
" I I
brought to this rile hamlet; then your
admirable ecuee and temper will pre
vail, and 1 »ee you already a* content
a* ever, and making your huebaud the
kappleat of men."
"You know 11aii refute you nothin*.’
ate aald, with a U»t Alcher of rcelat
Mce.
"I think not," replied the laictor.
'But d<> not t.ippone me ao unwary a.
to adopt him out of hand I am. I
Hatter myvelf, a llniahed man of tha
world; I have had all paaamilltlea la
view, mr plan la contrived to meet
them all ! tag* the lad aa viable boy.
If he pilfer, grumble. If he deeirv to
ehaage I ■hail .ee I vu mtawken I
,y.i »«. oyiuic him lor a« ion of mlaa.
and ie*d aim tramping ’
wilt nev«r famiben th«* ilm«
HMHva" Mid hla n.fat "1 know your
tend heart
£h* lea. bed out her hand i* ’ m
with a via a th* Ik- tor MUM aa h*
tnsa it and carried it in hi» Itpa he
\itl gained hi. poiht with g »ai.r « »»*
Ik.ia he had H«e.' ‘u hope l-r per
* ’•* tTtto’lelh lime he had proved
’ {fr.iioiev nf hla IMatf argument, ha
M alibur the hint nf a Wurn te
para fit in*mth» in the capital. fur a
*Mb of the do NT aateiedeMa and
psMtiona isipitad w» »ta. a esMftttH
than total rum Aaaviaaae had eavad
(ha rwmaladvr >1 Ma f» rl«aa hr a* *#*•
HdMh ahh»ti# «h Um vunwk. Th* "*»y
•game «f l*a»a put her th a blue fear,
keeping a good table—« man. neither
ag friend nor holt, to be degplned. 1
offer you your food and rMheg, and to
teaih you le»kou« in the evening, which
will be infinitely more to the purpose
I for a lad of your ktaaup than thoe* of
all the prlektk in Kurop< 1 propose no
wage*, but if ever you take a thought
to leave me. the d»or khall be open, and
I all) give you a hundred true* to
tiart the world upon. In return I hnve
an old horee and thaiae, whlrb you
would eery ipeedtly learn to clean and
beep tn order Ik, not hurry yottmelf
to autwer, and lahe It or leave It ae
you Judge aright only remember thia.
that I ana no »*uum. nuim Ur aber
llahle p* rktan, but a mala who Uvea
ri»«rouai> t»» and that if l
gaahe ta. proposal. at i« fur nay own
augfe- It la he<aua« 1 porewfve < l««rly
an advantage to myeeit And now, re
heat.'*
t | aha.I ta very glad I do nut eea
what rb* > • an da I thanh yvut, ear,
l gaoet htndly, and I will try u> n* a».
j tut ' enid the hay
'Thanh you, an Id the I*•>of warm
Ur, naanm*1 the name tun* and wiping
hie h«aw, for he had >oier*d i|g|i>a
while the thing bung in the wind, a
retueei. after the e»ene at h<m>w whiola
I have tutee—f fun* tn a lid* ou»a light
, before Anaataaie How hot and nggvy
la the evening to he ealt' I h*<* el
way* had a »»h« y te b* a hah In aoi«
I atvi. Jean Marie, here a the ln»tb|
true womanly heroism tn lltt!•- affairs
Not only illtl she refrain from th<
cheap revenge of exposing the Itrv.tor'i
errors to himself, Iwit she did her bes
to remove tbelr 111-effect on Jean-Mu
r»e. When Itespres went out for hi
lust breath of air before retiring fu
the night she came over to the boy'
side and took hts hand
lie held up his fare, and <-he tool
him In her arms and then twgan n
cry. The woniau had spoken In com
llatsaa<e; but she had warmed to h»
' own eorda, ami Itudeyntwe followed
, Ike laietor, enlerlug, found them en
laced; he concluded that hie wife »a
in fault, end be wee Just beginning. Ii
so awful voice, * An set sale whe
she looked up at him arnlllng with a
) upraised Hager and he held lite (» m«
a node i tag while she led tbe boy t
I bta attic
ISO MxtOlt.'IVI
--—.
t'otefidgv, the poet, was ea sahwsr
hoiseMao. Ouse tiding slung 'he turn
pthe toad in the coun<> uf i> ,<haM b
I was a* coated by a man who ugd two
• suiting the rider *1 say, yean
Mali, did tea mv*i a tetter on th
rot l“T*s." rvpac-d ia» ye 1, sk<«
Middle name aaa Taylor, ‘I 414 an
he laid m« tf I went « imte farther
■ shaald meet a feuee
The tMtiURi *m* originally th
rtesier Mstvhvrs er ibhahttaate ef Ik
t Isastvtg Kmptre
TALM AGE’S SERMON.
A BAG WITH HOLES-LAST
SUNDAY’S SUBJECT.
From the Test llaggal 1:8 n* Follow*:
He That Kurna-th Wage*. Kamel h
Wage* to l’lit It Into a Hag With
Hole*.
N PERSIA, under
the reign of Darius
Hystaspes, the peo
.ple did not prosper.
They made money,
but did not keep It.
They were like
people who have a
sack in which to
put money, not
knowing thut the
sack is torn or
eaten of moths, or In some way mud<
Incapable of holding valuables. As
fast as the coin was put In one end
of the sack It dropped out of the oth
er. It made ro difference how much
wages they got, for they lost them.
"He thut earneth wages, earneth
wages to put Into a bag with holes."
What has become of the billions
and billions of dollars In this country
paid to the working classes? Some of
these moneys have gone for house
rent, or the purchase of homesteads,
or wardrobe, or family expenses, or the
necessities of life, or to provide com
forts In old age. What has become of
other billions? Wasted In foolish out
lay. Wasted at the gaming table.
Wasted In intoxicants. Put Into a bag
with a hundred holes.
Gather up the money that the work
ing classes have spent for drink dur
ing the last thirty years and 1 will
build for every working man a house,
. . . a Li ~ .... r.lun fill
uiMi i ay uui iwi **»»»» » n. •
clothe his sons In broadcloth and Ills
daughters In silk, and place at bis
front door a prancing span of sorrels
or bays, and secure him a policy of
Itfe insurance, so that the present borne
may be well maintained after he Is
dead. The most persistent, most over
powering enemy of the working classes
is Intoxicating liquor. It Is the anar
chist of the centuries, and has boy
cotted, and Is now boycotting, the body
and mind and soul of American labor.
It Is to It a worse foe than monopoly
and worse than associated capital.
It annually swindles Industry out of
a large percentage of Its earnings. It
holds out Its blasting solicitations to
the mechanic or operative on his way
to work, and at the noon spell, and on
his way home at eventide; on Satur
day, when the wages are paid, It
snatches a large part of the money
that might come Into the family, and
sacrifices It among the saloonkeepers.
Stand the saloons of this country side
by side, and It Is carefully estimated
that they would reach from New York
to Chicago. "Forward, march," says
the drink power, "and take possession
of the American nation!"
The drink business is pouring Its
vitriolic aud damnable liquids down
the threats of hundreds of thousands
of laborers, ar.d while the ordinary
strikes are ruinous both to employers
and employes, I proclaim a strike uni
versal against strong drink, which, If
kept up. will be the relief of the work
ing classes and the salvation of the
nation. I will undertake to say that
there is not a healthy laborer in the
United States who, within the next
ten years. It he will refuse all intox
icating beverage aud be saving, may
not become a capitalist on a small
scale. Our country iu a year spends
one billion five hundred million and
fifty thousand dollars for drink. 01
course the woiklng classes do a great
deal of this expenditure. Careful sta
tistics show that the wage-earning
classes of Oieat Hrltaln expend In
t liquors one hundred million pounds, ot
five hundred million dollars a year
Sit down and calculate, O working
man! how much you have expended
in these directions. Add It all up
Add up what your neighbors have ex
pended, and realize that instead of an
swering the beck of other people yoi
might have been your own capitalist
When you deplete a working man't
physical energy you deplete his capi
tal. The stimulated workman give:
out before the unstimulated workman
My father said: "1 became a temper
ante man In early life, because I no
Uced in the harvest field that, thougl
I was physically weaker than othe
workmen, I could bold out longer that
they. They took stimulants. I tool
none.” A brtekmaker in England give
his experience in regard to this matte
among men In his employ. He *ay«
after Investigation; "The beer-drlnke
1 who made the fewest bricks made si;
hundred and fifty-nine thousand, an
the abstainer who made the fewre
bricks seven hundred and forty-si
1 thousand. The difference In behalf u
the abaUiuer ovsr the indulger. eighty
seven thousand "
1 When an army goes out to the hat
tie the soldier who has water or toff*
tn his canteen marches easier and fight
' better than 'he soldier who baa wbts
1 ky in hta cantaen Drlak fcelpe g ma
' to fight when he has only on# run
' textual, sad 'hat at the street cornet
|tut when h* go** forth to matatat
" •« tt»* gff&t 1**111** fuf All#l ll
ftuiulfi, A* imi itfiKl nAfttl Am
I Mh Avn a%> in w*ir * etif
I Ut hit* #H»#i
M (mil ««| tun tl (Mf
| A-«> » « ' A \ t g I,1 -f i. ■ % * *•
f tfe* >• t«lM l it t* lil
4 WAV* Mv <4(kM
•* S ) « *lf *1*4 u AlNUf l Aii
;i • -;
:\ *1 :r,
If] . | | • .c .
I . . . . I ,
! man put down his wages and then take j
j his expenses and spread them out so
I they will just equal, he is not wise.
I know working men who are in a per
fect fidget until they get rid of their
last dollar.
The following circumstances came
under our observation: A young man
worked hard to earn his six or seven
hundred dollars yearly. Marriage day
came. The bride had Inherited five
hundred dollars from her grandfather.
She spent every dollar of it on the
wedding dress. Then they rented two
rooms In the third story. Then the
young man took extra evening em
ployment. It almost extinguished his
eyesight. Why did hp add evening em
ployment to the day employment? To
get money. Why did he want to get
money? To lay up something for a
I rainy day? No, To get bis life In
i siired, so that In rase of his death his
1 wife would not be a beggar? No. He
put the extra evening work to the day
! work that he might get a hundred and
fifty dollars to get his wife a sealskin
I coat. The sister of the bride heard of
this achievement, and was not to be
eclipsed. She was very poor, and she
sat up working nearly all the night
for a gnat while until she bought a
sealskin coat. I have not heard of the
result on that street. The street was
full of those who are on small incomes,
hut I suppose the contagion spread,
.and that everybody had a sealskin
coat, and that the people came out and
cried, practically, not literally:
"Though the heavens fall, we must
have a sealskin <oat!”
I was out west, and a minister of
the Gospel told me, In Iowa, that, his
church and neighborhood had been Im
poverished by the fact, that they put
mortgages on their farms In order to
send their families to the Philadelphia
Centennial. It was not respectable not
111/ iiir « ' iiirnutai. uomvvu n»«> ••
evils and pauperism there Is a very
short step. The vast, majority of chil
dren in your alms houses are there be
cause their parents are drunken, lazy,
or recklessly Improvident.
1 have no sympathy for skinflint
saving, but I plead for Christian pru
dence. You say II Is Impossible now
to lay up anything for a rainy day.
I know It, but we are at the daybreak
of national prosperity. Some people
think It is mean to turn the gas low
when they go out of the parlor. They
feel embarrassed if the door bell rings
before they have the hall lighted.
They apologize for the plain meal, if
you surprise them at the table. Well,
It Is mean if It is only to pile up a
miserly hoard. Hut if it be to edu
cate your children, If it be to give more
help to your wife when she does not
fpel strong, if it be to keep your funer
al day from being horrible beyond all
endurance, because It Is to be the dis
ruption and unhihllatlon of the do
mestic circle--if it be for that, then it
Is magnificent. * * *
Cod only knows what the drunkard
suffers. Fain files on every nerve, and
travels every muscle, and gnaws ev
ery bone, and burns with every dame,
and stings with every poison, and pulls
at him with every torture. What rep
tiles crawl over his sleeping limbs!
What fiends stand by his midnight pil
low! What groans tear his ear! What
honors shiver through his soul! Talk
of the rack, talk of the Inquisition,
talk of the funeral pyre, talk of the
crushing Juggernaut he feels them all
at once. Have you ever been in the
ward of the hospital where these in
ebriates are dying, the stench of their
wounds driving hack the attendants,
their voices sounding through the
night? The keeper comes up and says,
"Hush, now he still! Stop making all
this noise!” Hut it is effectual only
1 for a moment, for as soon as the keep
er is gone they begin again. *‘0 God!
0 God! Help! Help! Drink! Give me
drink! Help! Take them off me! Take
them off me! O God!” And then they
shriek, and they rave, and they pluck
out their hair by handfuls, and bite
their nails Into the quick, and then
they gioan, and they shriek, and they
blaspheme, and they ask the keepers to
kill them—"Stab me! Smother me!
Strangle me! Take the devils off me!"
Oh, it is no fancy sketch! That thing
Is going on now all up and down the
land, and 1 tell you further that this
Is going to be the death that some of
you will die. 1 know It. I see It com
ing.
Again, the inebriate suffers through
i the loss of home. I do not care bow
• much he loves his wife and children,
i If this passion for strong drink has
i i mastered him. be will do the most out
, rageous things; and, If he could not get
- j drink in any other way, he would sell
his family into eternal bondage, llow
r many homes have been broken up In
( that way no one but God knows. Oh.
I Is there anything that will so destroy
t a man for this life, and damn him for
I the life that la to come! Hu not tell
f me that a man ran he happy when he
. ■ knows that he Is breaking hla wife's
j heart and clothing hla rhlldrea with
. | rage Why. there are ou the roads and
, streets of thla land to day little chll
, ' dr«n hare hailed unwashed, and un
, loti.pt aunt on every pah h of their
, faded tit ess and on every wrinkle of
their prematurely old tuuntenamea.
who would have been in churvhee to
i day. and as well clad as you are, but
, for the tart that rum destroyed (heir
parents and drove them into the grave
, (I rum th* l lie ul liud th iu despotic*
i i i f tum.e »o a rvctuitlag ud>vr of the
pit I hate thee’
Hut art subjs. I taken a deeper lone
j |ad that ts that the unfortunate of
wh m I »p«sh isftti from the toss
1 (;f the s u> The Hi hie intimates tha*
■ ( |a the future world tf we are unfor
■ £ % • a here * * tr had pa * sinus end s p
*' |fr* It a '!> V* tltil-l tt) f|rii) Mf* Htuft*4 V Ift
t i4 4(«| »*44« » r«i4#at *•«
I 4|» .a "im' *in f#»?
L a tt M 111'ftl '¥%.*&■•* I4IH • »-**%
i an mi ths «mW • though k» i,a<
have been poor, he could ^
could steal five cents w.th which t
get that whkh would slake his thirs
for a little while; but in eternity where
is the rum to come from?
• * •
While I declared some time ago that
there was a point beyond which a man
could not stop, I want to tell you that,
while a man cannot stop in his own
strength, the Ixrrd God by His grace
can help him to stop at any time. I
was in a room In New York where
there were many men who had been
reclaimed from drunkenness. I heard
their testimony, and for the first time
in my life, there flashed out a truth
I never understood. They said, "We
were victims of strong drink, Wp tried
to give it up, but always failed; but
somehow since we gave our hearts to
Christ, he has taken eare of us.’’ I
believe that the time will soon come
when the grace of God will show its
power not only to save man’s soul,
but his body, anil reconstruct, purify,
elevate and redeem it.
I verily believe that, although you
feel grappling at the roots of your
tongue an almost omnipotent thirst, If
you will give your heart to Opd lie will
help you by Ills grace to conquer. Try
It. It is your last, chance. I have
looked off upon the desolation. Sit
ting next to you in our religious as
semblages there are a good many peo
ple in awful peril; and. Judging from
ordinary circumstances, there Is not
one chance In five thousand that they
will get clear of It. There are men In
every congregation from Sabbath to
Sabbath of whom I must make the re
mark, that If they do not change their
course, within ten years they will, as
to their bodies, lie down In drunkards’
graves; and as to their souls, lie down
In a drunkard’s perdition. I know that
Is an awful thing to say, but 1 cannot
help saying It.
Oh, beware! You have not yet been
captured. Beware! Whether the bev*Jv
erage be poured In golden chalice or
pewter mug, in the foam at the top.
In white letters, let there be spelled out
to your soul, "Beware!” When the
hooks of judgment are opened, and ten
million drunkards come up to get their
doom, I want you to bear witness that
I, In the feaV of God and In the love
fur vrtiir until tnl/f vnn with fill f
Mon and with all kindness, to beware
of that which ha* already exerted Its
influence upon your family, blowing
out some of its lights a premonition
of the blackness of darkness for evpr.
Oh, if you could only hear intemper
ance with drfinkards' bones drumming
on the head of the liquor cask the
Dead March of Immortal soul*, me
thinks the very glance of a wine cup
would make you shudder, aud the col
or of liquor would make you think of
the blood of the soul, and the foam on
the top of the cup would remind you
of the froth on the maniac's lips; and
you would kneel down and pray God
that, rather than your children should
become captives of this evil habit, you
would like to carry them out some
bright spring day to the cemetery, and
put them away to the last sleep, until
at the call of the south wind the flow
ers would come up all over the grave
sweet prephecles of the resurrection!
God has a halm for such a wound: .
but what flower of comfort ever grew (
on a drunkard’s sepulchre?
Tel«>|»honjr In tlie rfitted Htiite*.
The extraordinary growth of the tel
ephone service In America is shown In
some figures brought out in the course
of a recent inquiry as to the desirabil
ity of regulating the rates and super
vising the service of telephone compan
ies in Massachusetts. In the United
States there are twelve conversations
per year on the average to every one of
the population, while in Europe there
are only two. The United Statee with,
a population, according to tHe census
AOl/V, V/I 1 II Id ■ II l ti I 11.1 Ox'». MV
telephone stations, or one to every 192
of the population. The combined pop
ulation of Kurope, according to the cen
sus of 1890, Is 354,957,776, and they
maintain 336,037 telephone Htutiona, or
one to every 907 of the population.
The conversations over the telephone
in the United States amount to 757,
000,000 per year; In Kurope they
amount to 767,109,824. In other words,
In the United States the number of
telephones used is mure than five times
as great, according to the population,
as those used in the countries of Ku
rope, and the uutnber of conversations
per capita of the population of the
United States la six times us great ua
In Europe. France, with u population
of 38.343.192, Is using 29.500 telephoto it,
ur one to every 1,300 of the population;
that is. Frame, with a population eight
| times as greut as that of the six New
England States. Is using fewer tele
j phones than the people of New Kltg
! land Massachusetts, according to the
' census of 1*95, had a population of
500.1*3. and there are 26.3I& telephones
l In use. ur one to every 95 of the popu
lation Sweden where the telephone
Is more generally used thsu In any
other country In Kurope hss hut utta
telephone lo every 138 of ij,,, p,,pU|4.
turn taxation ha* a population of 5.
<00 taxi with a.taxi e.rhange telephone
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