PHANTOM SHIP
-OR
Thc Flying Dutchman.
-BY CAPTAIN MAMYAT.
CHAPTER XII.—(Continued.)
"There are twenty men on deck to
tell the story,” replied the captain,
"and the olu Catholic priest, to boot,
for he stood by me the whole time I
was on deck. The nn*n said that some
accident would happen; and In the
morning watrh, on sounding the well,
we found four feet of water. We took
to the pumps, hut It gained upon us,
and we went down, as I have told you.
The mate says that the vessel Is well
known—It Is called the Flying Dutch
man.”
Philip made no remarks at the time,
but he was much pleased at what he
had heard. “If,” thought he, “the
Phantom Ship of my poor father ap
pears to otheis a* well as to me, and
they are sufferers, my being on hoard
can makp no difference. I do but take
my chance of falling in with her. and
do not risk the lives of those who sail
In the same vessel with me Now my
mind Is relieved, and I can prosecute
my search with a quiet conscience."
The next day Philip took an oppor
tunity of making the acquaintance of
the Catholic priest, who spoke Dutch
and other languages as well as he did
Portuguese, He was a venerable old
man, apparently about sixty years of
age, with a white (lowing beard, mild
in his demeanor, and very pleasant in
Ills conversation.
When Philip kept his watch that
night, the old man walked with him.
and it was then, after a long conversa
tion, that Philip Confided to him that
he was of the Catholic persuasion.
"Indeed, my son, that is unusual In
n Hollander."
"It Is so," replied Philip; "nor is it
known on hoard not that I am
ashamed of my religion, but I wish to
avoid discussion.”
"You are prudent, my son. Alas! if ■
the reformed religion produces no bet
ter fruit than what I have witnessed in
(tie East, It is little better than Idola
try."
"Tell nie, father." said Philip "they
talk of a mysterious vision of a ship
not manned by mortal men. Did you
see it?"
"I saw what others saw,” replied
the priest: "and certainly, ag far as my
seuses would enable me to Judge, the
appearance was most unusual I may
say supernatural; but I had heard of
this Phantom Ship before, and more
over that its appearance was Hit* pre
cursor of disaster."
The Batavia waited a few days at
St. Helena, and then continued her
voyage. In six weeks Philip again
found himself at anchor in the Zuyder
Zee. and having the captain’s permis
sion. he immediately set off for his
own home, taking with him (he old
Portuguese priest Mathias, with whom
he had formed a great intimacy, and to
whom he had offered his protection for
the time he might wish to remain in
the bow Countries.
Again he was united to his dear
Amine.
CHAPTER XIII.
About three months later Amine and
l’hilip were seated upon the mossy
bank which we have mentioned, an I
which had become lh»*ir favorite re
sort. Father Mathias had contracted a
great intimacy with Father geysen.
and the two priests were almost as
Inseparable as were Philip and Amine.
Having determined to wait a summons
previous to Philip'* again entering
upon his strange apd fearful task. and.
happy in the possession of each other,
the subject was seldom revived.
Philip, who had. on his return, ex
pressed id* wisli to the directors of the
company for immediate employment,
bail. Mince that period, taken no further
steps, nor hud any communication
with Amsterdam.
All at otto Philip felt something
touch hi* shoulder and a sudden chill
tan through hla frame In a moment
Ills Megs reverted to the probable
cause, he turned round his head, and. ,
to his amazement, I telle Id the istip
posed to be drowned) pilot of the Tel I
Si hilling, the iine-e)ed Hi hrlften. who j
stood behind him with a letiet in |)|n
hand The sudden appeurame of this '
malignant wretch Induced Philip to 1
culuim
Mrn iiMi Htiirni i» it po»«|ti|a '
\minn. *hu bail luruad bar br^l
found n« lh« ait laataitoh of Philip
lovntrd up bar fam ml tiut»l Into
irara It *i< not fnpr that tau«-d thw
unuattal riiioUou • >« bar p.trl, ion th»
(<in«ktl»n Ibai bar btmband na* aa»nr
|t» lia at r«ai but In Urn pratr
* Philip VaPdaftln baB.** < tul M. Itr if
tna. ' ha' ha' I’tn a lallar |«u puu. It
U fruM i ha t ouipanp "
"I (bought »a.d b*> tbrtl- ■ >u \»,i.
drti»w«l «ban the •bln a a* nrvabad
Ib Ksl>a liar ll«»« ilM *<w a<M apa'
H I narnpa rnpltnd drb If
IfB Alton an lo ail bon did >tm
•Kappa?”
"I «a» |hr«n» Up li) lb* nataa in
piuNi »%i»m
•■Bui,'4 iBlnrrupfnd A lrllt»u '
bat lb* nata* pught not lo bam
ibntBB »*• t»p,“
• And *b» •«»* wr' 1 J'** •»**« **'
ibii"
••Sof bul I proum* po t ni.it It b.i I
M*« pit. but *•« **• * outran I
aa«B|iad IB Iba MW*’ nap that pu» 4t I
I was thrown lip by the waves; he! he!
but l can't wait here. I have done my
bidding."
"Stop," replied I’bllip; "answer me
one question. Do you sail In the same
vessel with me this time?”
"I'd rather be excused," replied
Schrlften; "I am not looking for the
Phantom Ship, Mynheer Vander
decken;" and with this reply, the lit
tle man turned round and went away
at a rapid pace.
"Is not this a summons. Amine?”
said Philip, after a pause, still holding
the letter In his Land, with the seal
unbroken.
"I will not deny It, dearest Philip.
It Is moat surely so; the hateful mes
senger appears to have risen from the
grave that he might deliver It. For
give me, Philip; hut I was taken by
surprise. I will not again annoy you
with a woman's weakness."
‘‘My poor Amine,” replied Philip,
mournfully. “Alas! why did I not per
form my pilgrimage alone? It was
selfish of me to link you with so much
wretchedness, and Join you with me in
hearing the fardel of never-ending
anxiety and suspense."
“And who should bear It with you,
my dearest Philip, if it Is not the wife
of your bosom? You little know my
heart if you think I shrink from the
duty. No, Philip, It |s a pleasure, even
In its most acute pangs; for I consider
that I am, by partaking with, relieving
you of a portion of your sorrow, and
I f**el proud that I am the wife of one
who has been selected to be so pe
culiarly tried. Hut. dearest, no more of
this. You must read the letter,”
Philip did not answer. He brokp the
seal, and found that the letter In*
tlmated to him that he was appointed
as first ma'e to the Vrow Katerina, a
vessel which sailed with the next fleet;
and requesting he would Join as quick
ly as possible, as she would soon be
ready to receive hpr cargo. The let
ter. which was from the secretary,
further informed him that, after this
voyage, lie might he certain of having
the command of a vessel as captain,
upon conditions which would he ex
plained when he called upon the hoard.
“I thought, Philip, that you had re
quested the command of a vessel for
this voyage," observed Amine, mourn
fully.
“I did," teplled Philip, "but not hav
ing followed up my application. It ap
pears not to have been attended to. It
has been my own fault."
“And now It is too late."
"Yes. dearest, most assuredly so; but
It matters not; I would as willingly,
perhaps rather, sail this voyage as first
mate."
"Philip. I may as well speak now.
That I am disappointed, I must con
fess; I fully expected that you would
have tiad the command of a vessel, and
you may remember that I exacted a
promise from you on this very bank
upon which we now sit. That promise
I shall still exuit, and I now tell you
what 1 hud intended to ask. It was.
my dear Philip, permission to sail with
you. With yon i care for nothing. I
can he happy under every privation or
danger; but to he left alone for so long,
brooding over my painful thoughts, de
voured by suspense, impatient, restless
and Iniapable of applying to any one
thing that, dear Philip, Is the height
of misery, and that is what I feel when
you are absent. Recollect, I have your
promise, Philip. As captain you have
the means of receiving your wife on
board. I am bitterly disappointed in
being left this time; do, therefore, to a
certain degree console me by promis
ing that I shall sail with you next voy
age, if Heaven permit your return."
"1 promise it. Amine, since you are
so earnest. I can refuse you nothing;
lint I have a foreboding that yours and
my happiness will lie wrecked for
ever. I am not a visionary, hut it does
appear to tne that strangely mixed up
us I am. at once with this world and
the next, sou e little portion of futurity
is opened to me. I have given my
promise, \mine, hut from It i would
fain be released,"
tiiu if ill nil come ritiil|i It u our
destiny Who can avert fate'*"
\ til I tie «r ate free agents, mi. I to a
certain elteut are |iermttted to direct
our own >ttslinles/*
A* mi shuiWt Kather dev sen fain
have made m* believe hut what he
said In eupport of his assertion was tu
in.- Incomprehensible And yet he uttd
that It wa* part uf the taiholt. falih
It may he mi I am unable to under
•land many other point* I wish vttui
faith weir made more simple .t, yet
• he good man for flood he really Is
has only led me into do'iht '
' Ihisslng through douhi you mil gt
| rtve at co« Viet ion Amine
’ ivrhap **> replied Amins. hut
1 It appear* to me that I am a* yet Urn
i on the u'ticet of tu ptoiao M
j come. Philip. ley «« return Vtsi must
go »o Am*tvrdarn and I wltl go with
| you A»ter tout labor* of the da» a'
!««•• until you *«i| vour Am ur ■
| smites must »UII enliven yon I* it not
: '*»*"
* Y**. deaivsi. I a mid hate |t il^i a»i|
it. I wonder muh how dthriltea
i ould rotUe h*' • I ‘I »>'l ' #
>K*ly it I* teriain lei* hi* »*«ap» t* u
me m>ra>ulo«|v AA u* dll ha nut ap
pear when saved? where could he
have been? What think you. Amine?”
“What I have long thought, Philip.
He Is a ghoul with an evil eye. permit
ted for some cause to walk the earth
i In human form, and is certainly, in
some way, connected with your strange
destiny. If it requires anything to
eonvincc me of the truth of all that
has passed, it Is his appearance—tiv
wretched Afrit! Oh, that 1 had my
mother's powers but 1 forget, it dis
pleases you, Philip, that 1 ever talk of
such things, and I am silent.”
Philip replied not: and. absorbed in
their own meditations, they walked
back in silence to the cottage. Al
though Philip tiad made up Ills own
mind, he immediately sent the Portu
guese priest to summon Father Bey
sen, that he might communicate with
them and take their opinion as to the
summons he had received. Having
entered Into a fresh detail of the sup
posed death of Sehriften, and his re
apprararne ns a messenger, he then left
the two priests to consult together,
and went upstairs to Amine. It was
more than two hours before Philip was
called down, and Father Seysen ap
peared to be in a state of great per
plexity.
CHAPTER XIV.
"My son," said he, "we are much
perplexed. We had hoped that our
Ideas upon this strange communlca
tlon were correct, and (hat, allowing
all that you have obtained from your
mother and have seen yourself to have
been no deception, still that It was the
work of the KvII One, and, if so, our
prayers and masses would have de
stroyed this power. We advised you
to wall another summons, and you
have received it. The Iciier Itself Is
of course nothing, but the reappear
arn-c of the bearer of the letter Is the
question to be ronsidered. Tell me,
Philip, what is your opinion on this
point? it is possible he m'ght have
been saved why not as well as your
self?"
"I acknowledged the possibility,
father.” replied Philip; “he may have
been < ast on :-liore and have wandered
In another direction. H is possible, al
though anything but probable; but
since you ask me my opinion, 1 must
say candidly that I consider lie is no
earthly messenger; nay, i am sure of
it. That he is mysteriously connected
with my destiny Is certain. But who
he is and what he Is, of rouse I can
not tell."
"Then, my son, we have come to the
determination. In this instance, not to
advise. You must act now upon your
own responsibility and your own Judg- I
ment. In what way soever you may
decide, wc shall not blame you. Our
prayers shall he that Heaven may still
have you In Its holy keeping,"
"My decision, holy father, Is to obey
the summons.”
"Be it so, my son; something may
occur which may assist to work out
the mystery—a mystery which I ac
knowledge to be beyond my compre
hension, and of too painful a nature
for me to dwell upon.”
Philip said no more, for he per
ceived that the priest was not at all in
clined to converse. Father Mathias
took this opportunity of thanking
Philip for his hospitality and kindness,
and stated his intention of returning
to Lisbon by the first opportunity that
might offer.
(To be continued.)
Strange I'udergrouad {Impel.
Prayer meetings are often held in tha
underground galleries of Great Brit
ain's colliery districts, but there Is
probably ouly one mine where an
apartment has been excavated and set
aside exclusively as a place of worship.
This strange sanctuary is to be found
in the Myndd Newydd Colliery, about
three miles out of the town of Swan
sea. The underground chapel dates
( back for more than half a century, and
every morning since its inauguration
the workers in the colliery have as
sembled together in this remarkable
and novel edifice to worship God. The
chapel is situated close to the tiottoni
of the shaft so that the miners, on de
scending the pit. can go to worship
before they proceed to tiieir various
station*. The apartment is strangely
lacking in ornamentation and adorn
ment. The pillars and the beams
which support the roof are of rough
wood, and a disused i >al trolley turned
on end, itoes duty as a pulpit. Thn
only light In the sanctuary Is given
by a I 1mv > safety lump hung tiy a
rope from the ceiling The miners sit
ii (Mitt rough wooden form* placed
across the chattel from side to side, and
the tildes! wot kilt a It at the colliery
tier forms the duties of pastor li*
read* a chapter from the Bible, and
thru offers up a prayer, asking Gtnl to
tie with the ineu tu their dally labor*.
The service generally cutteludoa with
•tune gland old Welsh h>uin, sung
heartily by all the worshiper*, with
i out in ,ir<tiueiiiat aid, I he llllde, front
* bp h the daltt porttou i* read, t* kept
c-pc tally for chapel u»e and U place!
I during the day in a coreretl imi lived j
inside the upturned trolley,
tt«aw*t«a •• a WedUlws
\ mountain wedding luuti pin e near
ItiateavUte, V* a few day* ago when
\|ti* y. tie lie I'lelumoM* became \|l*
1 |b u l.utiiei* About Hut guest* were
present A re Jet ted clllur of MU*
I t'letwntou* vr* a moan the |tavt* and
he were a Ureal baud rtf crape on kit
■ aim I Mi la a the >« r* Hour the JlHetl
man aad hta ay wiputbtaef* evpfe ia«w|
i i heir •*«** of her ear ear* at by too
stir roof ut w» stains
It rotoettmes happen* wh*n a pre'ty
g|t| poaew h*M* the mtlfof that *bo
elier*. .Iw < alt t»c i i ■ - * »‘ *IIJlh*f
TAL MAGE’S SERMON.
-
"A STOUT GRASP" LAST SUN
DAY'S SUBJECT.
from Second Hook of Kmnuvl, <lia|iler
xtlll, Verne III, us follow.: "An<l Ills
ST . ! Clave Cnto the M*vor.l"—David
and the I’lilllstlne*.
What a glorious thing to preach the
Gospel! Some suppose that because 1
have resigned a fixed pastorate I will
cease to preach. No, No. I expect to
preach more than 1 ever have. If the
laird will, four times as much, though
In manifold plates, I would not dare
to halt with such opportunity to de
clare the truth through the ear to au
diences, ami to the eye through the
printing press. And here we have a
stirring theme put before us by the
prophet.
A great general of King David was
Kleazar, the hero of the text. The
i'll 11 i»t I ii< s opened battle against him.
and his troops retreated. The cowards
fled. Kleazar and three of his com
rades went Into the battle and swept
the Held, for four men with God on
their side are stronger than a whole
regiment with God against them.
"Fall hack!” shouted the commander
of the Philistine army. The cry ran
along the host: “Kail back!” Kleazar,
having swept the field, throws himself
on the ground to rest; but the muscles
and sinews of his hand had been so
long bent around the hilt of his gwor.1
that the hilt was Imbedded in the
flesh, and the gold wire of the hilt had
broken through the skin of the palm
of the hand, and he could not drop this
sword which he had so gallantly wield
ed. “ills hand clave unto the sword."
That Is what I call magnificent light
ing for the Lord God of Israel. And
we want more of it.
I propose to show you how Kleazar
took hold of the sword and how the
sword took hold of Kleazar. I look at
Kleazar's hand, and I come to the con
clusion that be took the sworr' with
a very tight grip. The cowards who
fled had no trouble In dropping their
swords. As they fly over the rocks »
hear their swords clanging in every t.i
rectlon. It is easy enough for them to
drop their swords. Hut Kleazar's band
clave unto the sword. In this Chris
tian conflict we want a tighter grip of
the Gospel weapons, a tighter gra<p of
the two-edged sword of the truth, It
makes me sick to see these Christian
people who hold only a part of the
truth, and let the rest of the triuh go.
so that the Philistines, seeing the loos
ened grasp, wrench the whole sword
away from them. The only safp thing
for us to do is to put our thumb m t.ie
Hook of Genesis and sweep our hand
around the Hook until the New Testa
ment comes Into the palm, and keep < n
sweeping our hand around he !’• ok
until the tips of the Angers clutch at
the words: “In the beginning God
created the heavens and the earth.”
1 like an Infidel a great deal better
than t do one of these namby-pamby
Christians who hold a part of the truth
and let the rest go. By miracle, God
preserved this Bible just as it Is, and It
is a Damascus blade. The severest rest
to which a sword can he put in a sword
factory is to wind the blade around a
gun-barrel like a ribbon, and then
when the sword Is let loose It flies »ack
to its own shape. So the sword of
Tod's truth has been fully tested and
it is bent this way and that way, and
that way. but it always comes back to
Its own shape. Think of it! A Book
written near nineteen centuries ago.
and come of It thousands of years ago,
and yet in our time the average sale of
this Book is more than twenty thou
sand copies every week, and more than
a million copies a >ear. 1 say now
that a Book which is divinely inspired
and divinely kept and divinely scat
tered Is a weapon worth holding a
tight grip of. Bishop Colenso will
come along and try to wrench out of
your hand the live books of Moses, and
Strauss will come along and try to
wrench out of your hand the miracle*,
und Kenan will come along and try to
wrench out of your hand the entire life
of the Lord Je*us Christ, and your as
sociates In ihe office or the factory or
the banking house will try to wrench
out of your hand the entire Bible; but
In the strength of the land God of
Israsl, und with Kleazar's grip hold on
to K. You give up the Bible, you give
up any part or it. ana you give up pur
don an<l peace and Ilf* and heaven.
IH> not b* aahatned, young man, to
have th* world know that you ur* a
friend of lh« Hibl* Thin Book la th*
friend of all that la good, and It U th*
worn enemy of all that I* bad An
eloquent writer recently gtv*« an In
cident of a very bad man who etond in
a cell of a Wealeru prlaon. Thla . rim
Inal had gone through all »ty|«e of
crime, and he waa there waiting for
th* gallon « The convict atandlng
there at the window of th* cell thla
witter aaya, ' looked out and declared
T am an Infidel.' lie aatd that to all
the men and women and > htldr*n who
happened to tie gathered there T am
an Iwttdel and the eloquent Witter
• aye Kvety min and woman ther*
believed him '* Ur I the writer go** i
tin to *4> “If he had •too*) ther* *a> ,
log I am a f'ht la't m*.' every man oi l >
woman would have aatd lie ta a
liar*' "
t hio H ide la the oworn enemy of all
that U wrong, and It la the friend of all
that la g*«wl Oh hold on U* Ui Wot
| take part of tt and throw Ike real j
away Hold on te nit wf ft Tkere at*
i ••• many people now who do ma know
i Vug aak th«m if Ike •oil .a Imm r'al
and they **v ' I gn»*a it t* | don i
kn>‘ • Perhapa it la. perhapa ti un t
I* the Ht**le true’ Melt pet bap' It
>a and perhapa It Un‘» Petkv.a u
>nay he hgurnttvety anl pethap* It
May he partly, an l perkapa It wav not
be at all." They despise what they
call the apostolic creed; blit If their
own creed were written out. It would
read like this: ,“F believe in nothing
the maker of heaven and earth, and In
nothing which it hath sent, which
nothing was born of nothing, and
which nothing was dead and buried
and descended into nothing, and arose
from nothing, and now silteth at the
right hand of nothing, from which it
will come to Judge nothing. I be
lieve In the holy agnostic church and
In the communion of nothingarians,
and In the forgiveness of nothing, and
the resurrection of nothing, and In the
life that never shall be. Amen!" That
Is the creed of tens of thousands of
people In this day. If yon have a mind
to adopt such a theory, t will not. "I
believe In God the Father Almighty.
Maker of heaven and earth, and in
•leans Christ, and In the holy Catholic
church, and in the communion of
saints, and in the life everlasting
Amen." Oh, when 1 sec Hlcazar taking
such a stout grip of the sword In the
battle against sin and for righteous
ness I come to the conclusion that we
ought to take a stouter grip of God's
eternal truth the sword of righteous
ness.
As I look at Kleazar’s hand I also
notice Ills spirit of self-forgetfulness
He did not notice that the hilt of the
sword was eating through the palm of
his hand. He did not kuow It hurt
him. Ah he went out Into the conflict
he was so anxious for the victory he
forgot himself, and that hilt might go
ever so deeply into the palm of his
hand, It could not disturb him. "His
hand clave unto the sword." O, my
brothers and sisters, let us go into the
Christian conflict with the spirit of
self-abnegation. Who cares whether
the world praises us or denounces us?
What do we care for misrepresentation,
or abuse, or persecution In a conflict
like this? Let us forget ourselves.
That man who Is afraid of getting bis
baud hurt will never kill a Philistine.
Who cares whether you get hurt or not
if you get the victory? Oh, how many
Christians there are who are all the
time worrying about the way the world
treats them. They are so tired, and
they are so abused, and they are so
tempted, when Kleazar did not think
whether be had a hand, or an arm, or
a foot. All be wanted was victory.
We gee how men forget themselves
in worldly achievement. We have
often seen men who, In order to
achieve worldly success, will forget all
physical fatigue and all annoyance and
all obstacle. Jimt after the batte of
Yorktown, in the American Revolu
tion a musician, wounded, was told he
must have his limbs amputated, and
they were about to fasten him to the
surgeon's table for It was long be
fore the merciful discovery of anaes
thetics. He said, "No. don’t fasten me
to that table; get me a violin ” A
violin was brought to him, and he
said: "Now go to work as I begin to
play," and for forty minutes, during ]
the awful pang- of amputation, he !
moved not a muscle nor dropped a
note, while he played some sweet tune.
Oh, Is It not strange that with the
music of the Cospel of Jesus Christ,
and with this grand march of the
church militant on the way to become
the church triumphant, we cannot for
get ourselves and forget all pang and
all sorrow and all persecution and all
perturbation.
We know what men accomplish
under worldly opposition. Men do not
shrink back for antagonism, or for
hardship. You have admired Pres
cott's ‘‘Conquest of Mexico.” as bril
liant and beautiful a history as was
ever written; but some of you may not
know under what disadvantages It was
written that "Conquest of Mexico"—
for Prescott was totally blind, and he
hail two pieces of wood parallel to each
other fastened, and totally blind, with
his pen between those pieces of wood
he wrote, the stroke against one piece
of wood telling how far the pen must
go in one way. the stroke against the
other piece of wood telling how far
the pen must go the other way. Oh,
how much men will endure for worldly
knowledge and for worldly success,
and yet how little we endure for Jesus
Christ. How inauy Christians there
are that go around saying. "O my
haud. O my haud. my hurt hand;
don’t you see there Is blood on the
hand and there Is blood on the
sword?" while Kleazar, with the hilt
imbedded In the flesh of his right haud,
does not know it.
Moat I b* tarried to the aide*
On flowery beds of ea»e.
While othet s fought to win tha prlaa.
Or sailed through blood) seas?
What hava *n suffered In eoinparl
•on with thu»e who axptrad with suf
fo<aiion or war* borne.I or war*
i bnpp*d to p!*i «,s for th* troth's rake'*
\V* talk of the p*rs**otlon of olden
times 'I her* U Joat as tuui'h permu-u
lion going on now lu various waya. In
IMi In Mtdaaaxar. *lght**n men
*»r» pot to death for Christ s -ah*
They were to b* horlsd ov*t th* twin,
tit order to make their death tha mnr«
d.iaditil lu antU'tpuluui, lhay war*
pot In bask*'* and swung to and fro
over ib* pie.(pea that they might uw
bow many hundred f#»t tha, would
hav* lo b* dashed down, and whll*
th*) wet* swinging in ih*** ba*k*l*
Orel tha r« lo (bay • >wg
Jesus, lovar of toy MIU),
lari m> to thy Isuun My
V\ hit* th* tdihaws near m« toil
Will* ih* i*mp**i still U high
1 h*n lhay w*t* dashed down lu
I• sx|y uk, ho* mu. h <«h*rs hat* *n
d-.. I fu*' nils' and h»w llttl* w* *n
lo* *w r hi let kke sent to rtd« to
h*gt an tn a Nllnrx steeping . ar too
tr«M uk soft pin th Ih* had mad* up
•grly mi •« tan *t**p all th* way. ih*
Mark pui>*r of iNM'h lu wgk* u* up
only In time to enter the golden city
We want all the surgeon* to tlx our
hand up. Let them bring on all the
lint and all the bandage* and all the
salve, for our hand 1» hurt, while
Eleazar does not know hi* hand Is
hurt. "His hand clave unto the
sword.”
As I look at Eleazar’s hand, I come
to the conclusion that he has done a
gieat deal of hard hitting. I am not
surprised when I see that these four
men—Eleazar and his three compan
ions—drove back the army of Philis
tines. that Eleazar's sword clave to hi*
hand, for every time he struck an en
emy with one end of the sword, the
other end of the sword wounded hint
When he took hold of the sword, the
sword took hold of him.
ANCIENT CITY IN KENTUCKY
Kvldnoce Found Near Carlisle of a I’r*
historic Town.
In the course of excavations 111
search of water In the vicinity of Blue
Lick Springs, near Carlisle, Ky„ Inter
esting discoveries have Just been re
ported which Indicate that a large town
was once located ou the site in some
prehistoric period long before the mas
todon became extinct, thousands of
years ago. The finds were burled quite
deep, owing to the fact that Blue Lick
Springs and Big Bono Springs are sit
uated in quite low ground, and are
subject to overflow from the Ohio every
spring. Each overflow has caused the
alluvial soil to cover the deposits
deeper and deeper. Last summer, from
some unaccountable reason, Blue Lick
Springs almost ceased to flow, and the
owners had to take recourse to a vein
emanating from the opposite side ot
the river. Disconcerted at their loss,
they began to cudgel their wits In the
hope of restoring their lost fountain.
Pumps from various places were put
to work, and where formerly a vast,
strong stream that would defy any
known pump flowed forth, these hand
pumps took the water away. In the
course of the excavations they began
to find at the depth of about eight feet
skeletons of deer, elk and buffalo, in
some the bones and horns being in
a splendid state of preservation. I.<ower
down they were astonished to come
upon bones of colossal proportions,
those of a monster mastodon that
would tower above the elephant as the
elephant does above the hog. A tusk
was exhumed which must have been
ten feet long. It was taken out in two
sections, a part of the middle crum
bling so that it could not be preserved.
It is eight to ten Inches In diameter,
and must, to judge from the angle of
curvature, have been a section midway
between the points of the tusks and
their articulation with a socket. Frag
ments of various bones wero examined,
all of glgantte size, and as a space of a
few feet only was excavated, further
work will no doubt bring to view much
more of Interest and value from this
new mastodon graveyard. These mas
todon bones were at. a depth of about
twelve feet. Lying immediately under
a stratum of solid gravel. Just under
this came the greatest surprise of all.
Here at a depth of abont fourteen feet
a symmetrical stone pavement, evi
dently the work of man, man ante
dating the mastodon and the Indian
It was systematically laid; It had been
quarried; the under side of the stones
were in the rough, while the top was
more smooth, just as the stones form
ing the pavement of little village*.
There was one stone about two feat
long and of four or five Inches thick
ness that had a margin of seven or
eight Inches as unworn as the under
side. This unworn side was evlden'ly
covered with another stone or piece of
timber. This walk of the ancients to
the springs was followed but a few
feet, so further excavations may re
veal more of interest. Philadelphia
Times
GUARDING THE POPE.
The most Important person In at
tendance on the pope is |»io Centra,
the body servant of the aged pontiff.
He is more than a privileged servant;
he Is a constant companion, sleeping
in an adjoining chamber, with so thin
a partition betwixt them that he can
hear the pope's breathing. At all
times, too. he can keep mirvcilance by
the Aid of a little glass window which
is at the head of the bed; while by
means of a telephone he Is In cuiiiniiin
tratlon with Prof, l.apponl, the doc
tor, who lives out of the vath-an.
Resides this eminent physician there
are two assistant doctors who live in
the palace and have the care of the
health of the oQU souls comprising the
population of the Vatican. In (be days
of Plus IX. there were many more
who made their abode there.
Ily an arrangement between the po
lice and the valbau authorities a win
dow next the papal apartinents is kept
open during (hr day aud closed at
night with a lighted lamp behind li
The shutting of the window in the dav
nr the putt lug out ill the light me in <
that something unusual he* hap|iened
and Ibai help la icqulred When th*
P«P* I* III this singular sign would
mean that he la dead An Malian
<entinel Is constantly watching this
window Thl» hose ter did a«M pre
vclii the ml-Isas licit mil,, It „ . ,S
nudei • * t el cl, „f ,1* * |M {he t'napl
s .lift Who lUttoon. <>d in the ho
(he death of thu« |\ five hoots before
It iiMth plat «•
MsswaA
Mrs. Irt'ree, of 1'hbago |. he her
busnuad* Mis V |* Canie ul-oi of
that placet Well rather her has b**a
I should any Philadelphia North
two t> an
Th* ft»sh of glligaiur* Iasi** very
tihe veal, and ta regarded *• t d*lMa</
h) many pswpl* m India.
