THAT GIRL of JOHNSON S
By JKA.JV K.A.TE LVDLX/M.
Author of "At a Girl's Mrrcj." Etc.
—
Entered According t5 Act of Congress in the Year 1*X) b* Street ft Smith.
In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C.
CHAPTER XII.—Continued.
Dolore3 sat up with a dignity of
bearing that silenced further words
on the woman’# lips.
"Do you think,” she said—“does
any one think that I would leave my
father?”
The nurse laughed softly, with a
touch of scorn in her voice.
“Do you think it would break his
heart, Miss Johnson?”
Dolores was too deeply in earnest
to be moved by the scornful words;
afterward the words and tone came
back to her distinctly.
“I would not leave my father,” she
said, solemnly, her large, steadfast
eyes fixed disconcertingly on the quiet
face opposite, "I would not leave my
father—never—while he lives—not for
any one.”
“You may change your mind.” the
nurse said, lightly, "fting to prepare
for the night. She touched the girl's
hair softly as Dora could have done,
caressing the stray curls on the
smooth, broad brow pityingly.
“Go to bed, child,” she said. “Well
not talk any more about that now; it
is time you were getting your beauty
sleep ere the clock strikes twelve.”
“1 would not leave my father,” Do
lores said, solemnly, her eyes raised
to the kindly face above her, “I would
not leave my father—ever—while he
lives—not for any one.”
* * * • *
“Who’d a thought," said Jones,medi
tatively, tipping his chair back and
stretching his feet pretty well toward
the smoky mantel. “Who'd a-thought
thet big Johnsing wi' sinews like oak
d ever kem ter thes?”
It was more the statement of a fact
than a question; he said it to free his
mind and start the ball of conversa
tion rolling. That every one thought
as he did on this subject was a matter
of course. He looked around on them
approvingly as though to Impress
them with the fact that he was with
them there.
“Et’s bettor so,” said I.odie. grave
ly, changing his left leg over the
right; “et’s better so than fer him ter
hev run inter hidin'.”
A silence fell over them all; each
thought the same; in fact they thought
considerably beyond that, but not one
of them dared say what was in his
mind.
“Royther onsatisfact’ry ans’rs they
give us when we went ter ask 'bout
hem,” said big Tom Smith, dissatis
fiedly, as he pushed the cat from the
hearth with his foot and drew his
chair up nearer the fire.
“Ther jedge’s son were thar.” said
another big, stout man, with a mali
cious snort of laughter. “Ther jedge's
son were thar, an’ theys were too
big ter speak ter sech common folks
as we uns. What hev we ter do With
they uns sence ther jedge’s son hev
took up Johnsing an’ his gal."
A loud burst of laughter drowned
the sobbing of the storm. Lodie alone
sat quite unmoved, staring gravely
into the crackling fire.
“Look a-hyar.” he said, slowly,
changing his right leg over the left.
“Look a-hyar, men. mebby t ain’t sech
a good joke as ye seem ter thenk
with yer lardin' an’ yer jokin’. When
I helped with Johnsing tell ther doc
tors kem, I could see plain thet ’t
warn’t no common theug hed hap'd
Johnsing. Thar he were wuth his
two legs broke an' his arms, an' cov
ered with bruises an’ mebby no end
o’ broke bones; an’ I says ter myself’
thet 't warn't no common theng he'd
hap’d Johnsing. An’ when ther doc
tors kem theys sed—I asked ther
jedge’s son as I were cornin’ out, an’
"Look a-hyar, man!”
he telled me—theys sed Johnsing ain't
long ter live, an’ thet ’t would be a
mericle ef he even live a week. An’
thar were Johnsing's gal a standin’ et
ther winder starin’ out et ther rain,
jes’ es she’d stood ever sence we
bringed her feyther home, an’ she’s
never moved or spoke sence. Stop
yer larfln. men; 'tain’t no larfin’ mat
ter—thes thet hev hap'd Johnsing.”
“Hev ther gal stole yer byart fro’
ye, Lodle?" asked one of the men,
again starting the rough laughter.
“She's a sweet gal, Jim,(an’ ye’re wel
come ter her ef ye ken get her frum
ther Jedge’s son. But ye’ll hev ter be
lively, man. ’Tain’t ev’ry gal kin get
ther son o’ a jedge. an' ye'd best put
yer best foot forrard as soon as may
be.”
“Look a-hyar, man”—there was a
wrathful gleam in the big fellow’s
black eyes as he arose to his feet in
all his height of six feet three—“et
makes no diff’rence what ye say ter
me or ’bout me, but ther next one
what speaks thet gal's name like
thet'll be laid outen flatter'n ever
Johnsing were, an' he'll never git up
agon. How'd ye like one o’ us ter
say ther same o' yer darter, Hiram
Sadler?”
“Hi, hi!” the man exclaimed, with
another burst of laughter not so loud
nor so long as before. "Hi, hi! hyar’s
kem a champ’on fighter fer thet gal
o' Johnsing's sure’s ye live, Jones.
Let’s hev a drink outen et, ter drive
all ill feelin’ off. I meant no harm ter
ye, Lodie. nor ther gal neither.”
Anti the big man looked down on
the speaker with steady eyes as he
answered:
"Say what ye like ’bout me an* ter
me, Sadler, but there firs’ sech word
bout thet gal o’ Johnsing's from any
o’ ye'll be yer last.”
And they knew he meant what he
said.
CHAPTER XIII.
Around the Tavern Fire.
“I hoard reytlier a strange story
ower yander in ther town thes mornin’
when I went fer ther doctors,” Tom
Smith said, presently, setting down his
mug of cider and wiping off his beard
ed lips with the back of his hand. ‘‘A
strange story an' reyther more’n I
think Johnsing deserves.”
“He hev more’n he deserves now,”
Sadler said, with a leer at Lodie.
“But the story, Tom,” Jones inter
posed, to prevent further unpleasant
ness. “Let's hev et et once.”
“Et's ’bout Johnsing, of course.”
Smith said, solemnly. “Et all ’pears
ter he ’bout Johnsing. A shef'less, no
'count critter ennyhow.”
“Never mind ’bout thet,” Jones said,
seeing Ixulie turn his big black eyes
from the fire to the face of the speak
er. “Johnsing is havin' all he ken
well carry ’thout our sayin’ hyard
thengs ’bout hem. Let's hev yer story,
Tom.”
“Well, when I was done seein’ ther
doctors an’ ther wimmen,’’ Smith con
tinued, “et ther judge's house, what
young Green sent me ter see, I went
ower ter Serubb's on ther corner
opp'sit’ ther court house where some
o' ther fellers was. One o’ ther men
thar got ter talkin’ pretty free 'bout
ther trial an’ ther lamin’ an ther hull
b'isness, an’ one o’ ther others sed ter
him thet he'd best keep a civil tongue
in his head 'bout thet Johnsing an' his
gal, fer et seems thet Lem Johnsing—
him thet left hyar many year ago—
hev kem back ter see his brother,
an' has been askin’ news o’ him, an’
is a-flndin' out all he ken 'bout him.
an’ special 'bout thet gal o’ hisn. Et
seems he hev got Ills darter with him
an’ she hev took a farncy ter thet
gal o’ Johnsing’s from ther first what
she hev heard all from ther judge’s,
son. An’ et's kem out thet thyes goin’
ter kerry her 'way up No'th ter ther
big city when tneys go. an' eddicate
her an’ make a lady o’ her. An’ Lem,
he hev a heap o’ money, they says
ower yonder, an’ he an’ ther jedge's
struck up a powerful fr’endship thet
may, they ’lowed, mebby prove a’
benefit ter Johnsing in many ways,
but most special in a way 't wes all
know.”
“Et ’pears queer how thengs kem
round." Sadler said, meditatively, “but
Lem Johnsing al'ays did hev more
grit n most of ’em. Theys a shef'less,
no ’count set ennyhow. ’ceptin’ him,
an' ther gal worse ’n most.”
“Look a-hyar, Sadler, Lodie said,
slowly—Dolores could not have
spoken slower. “Et's bein’ worse’n
ther beastie ter hit a man when he’s
down, special when yer know' he kyan’t
live long ter bother nobody. Ef
theys get hem ower ter ther town
alive et'll be more’n I reckon. An'
more’n thet, he may be dead or a-dyin'
thes mtnnet while wes what call our
selves his fr’ends be talkin’ o' him
names an’ sayin’ onkind thengs ’bout
hem. Hem an’ his gal has 'nough ter
thenk of thout wo uns heapin’ on her
an' him a lot o’ hyard thengs 't ain’t
all true or kind. How’d ye like ther
same ’bout ye, or yer gal, Sadler?”
The fire died down on the hearth
until only a glowing heap of ashes re
mained. The rain and wind sobbed
outside at the doors and windows,
swaying the creaking sign at the door
post. Suddenly the low door was
thrown open, letting in a gust of
hoarse east wind and showers of rain
and sleet, and out of this,like a wreath
of the storm, tall, grave-faced, drench
ed to the skin, young Green stood in
their midst.
He closed the door and advanced
toward the fire, removing his hat as
he did so.
Jones arose at once. Jones was
always ready for business; the Judge’s
son would pay W'eil, no doubt; he
should have the best in the house.
The other men retained their positions
and regarded the new-comer with no
friendly eyes.
“A powerful bad storm, Jedge," said
Jones, good-naturedly. “Kem right
up hyar by ther fire, an’ get yfe dry.”
“Yea,” Green said, pleasantly, quick
to note the sullen aspect of the men
around the fire. “It’s a night to make
\ *
one glad of fire and shelter Han
you a place for me to night, Jones?”
‘ Sartain, Jedge. Wes al'ays a place
fer ye an’ a plate an' mug. Ye shall
hev a smokin' supper ter sort o’
stralghteu ye out. au’ yell take oft
yer thengs an’ hev ’em dried. Hyar's
a mug first ter brace ye. Et's a pow
erful bad night is this."
“Thank you,” Green said. “You're
a good-hearted host, Jones. It U
pleasant to feel one Is so heartily wel
come.”
He drew up the chair Jones placed
for him, merely noticing the men in
the simplest manner.
“How is Johnsing now, jedge?”
ljodie asked, slowly. He was privil
eged to ask; was he not one of those
who rescued the man?
“Unconscious.” Green replied, grave
ly. “The doctors dare not leave him
for a moment. He is in a critical state
and the least movement might prove
fatal.”
“Have theys sot his broke bones,
jedge?" Sadler asked, respectfully.
“Yes,” Green replied, stretching his
Young Green stood in their midst.
wet feet toward the tire and enjoying
its warmth and rest after the dreary
day. “They have set his right leg
and his arm, but his left leg will have
to be amputated near the hip.”
A silence fell over them. A sort of
awed silence it was, at thought of all
it meant. And it was the same man
who stood in their midst but three
days before, powerful of muscle, with
cords like an oak, vowing vengeance
upon this young man who had saved
his life.
"The leg should have been ampu
tated at once, for it was in a terrible
condition, but the doctors dared not
do it; in his weak state it might prove
fatal. To morrow they hope to do it.
His daughter knows nothing of his
critical condition, and they wish her
not to know. The waiting and sus
pense have told much on her already,
and she must have no more excite
ment at present.”
“An’ he’s goin’ ter lose his leg?”
Eodie asked, slowly. “Et’s goin’ ter be
rejther hyard on ther gal as well as
Johnsing, 'pears ter me. Who'll take
care of ’em, I d like ter know?”
“They’ll be taken care of,” young
Green replied, quietly, a touch of color
in his face to hear these rough men
speaking of these things in regard to
such a woman as Dolores Johnson.
"But it is doubtful about Johnson
having to be taken care of many
days.”
Mrs. Jones came to the door and
spoke to him. His supper was ready
if he cared to have it then.
As he arose to obey the summons
Tom Smith asked, gruffly, it might
be out of bravado to hide his reah
feelings:
“Ef Johnsing dies what 'bout ther
trial ower yander, jedge?”
Green faced him with a look the
men never forgot, as he replied,
sharply:
“What is a mare’s life to that of a
man, Smith? You had best let that
matter drop till this is settled.”
(To be continued.)
IS HIS OWN GRANDFATHER.
Neapolitan With Most Strangely Mix
ed Lineage.
Beppo Bruzoni, a Neapolitan sailor,
is a living proof of the fact that a
man can be his own grandfather.
“I married,” he said, *'a widow, and
she had by first husband a handsome
girl named Silvletta, with whom my
father fell in love and who became
his second wife. Thus my father be
came my son-in-law and my step
daughter became my mother, 6inee
she had married my father. Soon af
terwards my wife gave birth to a son,
who became my father’s step-brother
and at the same time my uncle, since
he wan my step-mother’s brother.
“But that was not all. for in due
time my father’s wife also gave birth
to a boy, who was my brother and
also my step-son, since he was the
son of my daughter. My wife was alBO
my grandmother, and thus I was my
wife's husband and at the same time
her grandson. Finally, as the husband
of a person’s grandmother is naturally
that person’s grandfather, I am my
own grandfather.”—Household Words.
The True American Spirit.
It is a genuine refreshment to the
soul nowadays to meet a man who
6ays: "I want work and it does not
matter what It is, so long as it is hon
est and fairly paid for!" There are
men whose courage and nobility were
never suspected when they were pros
perous, who. when adversity came up
on them, threw off their coats and
pride and are working at jobs they
used to give as favors to other men.—
Atlanta Constitution.
IS IT AN AGREEMENT?'
THE PROTECTIVE TARIFF CON
SIDERED AS A CONTRACT.
__
Have Not the Government and the
People Entered Into a Covenant
That All Labor and Industry Shall
Enjoy the Benefits of Protection?
With satisfaction the American
Economist observes the attention de
voted by the New York Tribune of j
July 25 to the suggestion that before j
taking action on the pending Cuban
reciprocity treaty Congress will do
well to carefully consider and accur
ately weigh certain important argu
ments against the consummation of
Lhat project. The Tribune had commit
ted itself to the opinion that there
was nothing to consider In this con
nection; that the caso was all settled
and the legislation necessary to start
the reciprocity wheels "should take
no time at all.” It seems, however,
to have discovered that there was one
phase of the question worthy of at
least momentary thought, for in a
leading editorial article of consid
erable length It goes to the trouble of
taking issue wltb the position of the
Economist. The subject, to be sure,
Is treated in a flippant, sour and super
ficial manner; but it is better that it
should be treated in this way than not
treated at all. Among the points sub
mitted by the Economist for consider
ation by Congress at the extra session
to be called Nov. 9 for Anal action on
the Cuban treaty was the following;
"Does it not involve the violation by
the government of a contract of agree
ment with certain producing interests
of the United States—namely, the
Dingley tariff law?”
This suggestion, as Is evident on Its
face, was put forward tentatively, not
as an assertion of law or fact, but
with a view to drawing attention to
the question of moral obligation on
the part of our own government
toward our own people. So much has
been heard as to our moral obligation
toward the people of Cuba that it
would seem only fair to take some ac
count of the duty which the govern
preme court on that ground in their
endeavors to escape taxation on the
value of tlicir franchise*, it is some
thing new, however, to find the tax
laws themselves construed as a con
tract and therefore not subject to
change, lost the constitutional rights
of citizens be invaded."
It is something now, surely, to And
a protectionist newspaper referring to
the Dlugley tariff as a "tax law" and
taking no account of its operation as
a ptotective measure. But that is not
the sorest point with the Tribune.
Agaiu in the fashion of its free trade
contentporaries it dips its pen into
vinegar and gall and in response to
the tentative suggestion as to rights
under a covenant of agreement it de
clares:
"If the Dingley law was a contract
‘with certain producing interests,’ then
it must have been passed in payment
of some supposed debt. The ‘producing
interests' in question must have paid
something for it.
‘‘A contract implies consideration.
What producing interests' rendered
valuable consideration which gives
them a right to look on a law of the
United States as a contract which the
United States has no right to revise
at will? What was the consideration?
To whom was it rendered? What are
the secret clauses which give what is
on its face a mere tax law the charac
ter of a contract? ‘Certain producing
interests' have a contract with the
United States, have they?—a contract,
not that they shall be taxed only at a
certain rate, or shall not be taxed at
all, but that somebody else shall be
taxed for their benefit? For how long
does this contract run? Have the
'certain producing interests’ acquired
a perpetual lien on the country by the
pa-sage of a contract Instrument es
tablishing an unchangeable tax? What
cl lim had the 'producing interests’ on
the lawmakers to induce the creation
of such an astonishing obligation,
amounting to the sale and alienation
of the government’s future' legislative
power?"
We had not supposed that any Re
publican newspaper would allow its
zeal in behalf of tariff tinkering by
reciprocity treaty to carry it so far
DESTRUCTION THREATENED BY THE TWO-TAILED COMET.
ment owes to those of our own pro
ducers who claim equal rights with
other domestic producers to the pro
tection guaranteed them by law. The
Dingley tariff law is In the nature of
a covenant between the government
and the people. It is rather more than
that. It Is the mandate of the people
framed into law and promulgated by
their servants, the Senators, Repre
sentatives of the United States Con
gress and the President of the United
States—a mandate that must remain
in full force until revoked by the peo
ple, through their servants, in the
same manner and by the same process
by which it was originally placed upon
the statute books. The manner and
the process are clearly defined In that
clause of the Constitution which pro
vides that all legislation affecting the
revenue shall originate in the House
of Representatives. In the case of
the Cuban treaty this process has
been reversed. Legislation affecting
the revenue by a reduction of 20 per
cent in tariff duties has originated in
the Senate and now goes to the House
for final concurrence. This is why
the proposed amendment of the Ding
ley law is characterized as irregular
and unconstitutional; this is why it
has been suggested that the Dingley
law should stand as a covenant be
tween the government and the people
until it shall have been in whole or
In part abrogated by the people.
The suggestion as to Equity and
good faith on the part of the govern
ment toward domestic producers
seems to have irritated the Tribune
into a frame of mind not conducive to
calm and logical discussion. It has so
nettled the journal founded by Horace
Greeley, Protectionist, that it employs
phrases and methods of expression
which are curiously similar to the vein
in which free trade writers assail the
doctrine and policy of protection. "The
tariff is a tax,” these free trade propa
gandists have been telling us for
many years. Evidently the Tribune of
to-day, unlike the Tribune of Horace
Greeley’s time, holds the same view.
It says:
"The obligation of contract Is often
Invoked by corporations to avoid new
taxes. The franchise holders of New
York are Just now appealing to the Su
beyond the border line of fair and
courteous controversy; we had not ex
pected to goad our neighbor into the
vicious free trade flings embodied In
the extracts just quoted. Not forget
ting that the Tribune was among the
first and fiercest champions of Mr.
Havemeyer’s benevolent theory of
“moral obligation,” and that It has
fought strenuously and Incessantly for
the realization of the Sugar trust
dream of cheaper raw sugar from
Cuba as a means of destroying the
competition of domestic cane and beet
sugar, we were not prepared for quite
so much heat and temper. It Is an
exhibition of strenuosity that seem?
to denote much pressure and strong
urgency in behalf of Cuban reciprocl
ty. Viewed In this light the episode
is at once suggestive and instructive.
After all, is not the Dingley tarifl
very much in the nature of a contract
of agreement to which there are two
parties, the government and the pea
pie? Have not the people and the
government entered Into an agreement
that all domestic labor and industry—
not merely a part—shall enjoy thi
blessings and benefits of protection!
There can be no contract without a
consideration, says the Tribune. True
Then what was the consideration, and
who paid it in the case of the Dingley
law? The consideration was loss ol
employment, hunger, privation and the
drawing down of vast sums of money
out of savings banks attendant upon
the terrible period of tariff reform
from 1893 to 1897, and it was paid by
the wage earners of the United States,
by the farmers of the United States
who lost >5,000,000,000 in depreciation
of values of farm products and farm
properties, and by every person who
suffered the pangs of Wilson-Gorman
ism. The wage earners and the pra
ducers of this country paid a high
price for the Dingley tariff. It ia
theirs by right of purchase. Who has
the right to take it away from them
without their consent being first had!
Argument Is Wasted.
To wage earners: When a man tells
you that free trade is a good thing foi
you, coax him into an alley and tell
him he is a fool.— Davenport (Ia.) Re
publican.
THK SUNDAY SCHOOL.
LESSON X., SEPT. 6—DEATH OF
SAUL AND JONATHAN.
Golden Text—“There la a W:y
Which Seemeth Right Unto a Man;
But the End Thereof Are the Ways
of Death."—Proverbs 14:12.
I. The Philistine Invasion.—Its Pur
pose. The great enemy of Israel on tho
east, who had made trouble for Saul dur
ing a large part of his reign, now made
an incursion farther north than usual.
The scene was In the rich plain of Es
dradon, the most fertile portion of Pal
estine. and one of the great battlefields
of Israel.
The Gathering of tho Clans The Phil
istines with u great army gathered first
at Aphek. a town and a district at the
northern end of their territory, which was
the lowland region on the coast of tho
Mediterranean. Saul and his army must
necessarily move northward from the hill
country of his capital Giheah, near Je
rusalem. In order to defend this northerly
region from the Invaders.
II. Saul In Despair Consults the Witch
of End or. —1 Stim. 2S. Saul was cast down
with discouragement and despair (1) at
the gnat numbers of the enemy, their
chariots and horses, and warlike equip
ment. <2» lie could g< t no answer to his
inquiries from God. As to others who
pray only when In trouble, and disobey all
the rest of the time, no answer comes In
response to selfish prayers.
The Witch of Endor. Failing In other
Ways of learning what to do. Saul sought
some one "with a familiar spirit” to give
him advice. The word "witch" Is not
used to describe her. The Hebrew word
for "familiar spirit" Is "oh,” the ordi
nary name for a water bottle. Prof.
Henry P. Smith translates It u woman
with a "talisman."
The Response. There are two possible
Interpretations of what followed.
First. That the woman was Interrupted
•and frightened by the unexpected, actual
appearance of Bumuel. whose voice Sagl
heard, but whom he did not see; and that
Samuel uttered the terrible words of con
demnation against Saul.
Second. That the whole scene was a
deception on the part of the woman.
Saul listened to his doom, and weary
and depressed returned to his army by
the fountain of Jezreel. His repentance
.was too late, as In the case of the foolish
virgins.
III. The Battle and Defeat at Mt. Oli
;hoa.—Vs. I. 2. T. The next morning —ie
'battle was begun.
1. "Anil the men of Israel fled from
before the Philistines." The Israelites
fought bravely, hut they could not with
stand the charges of the Philistines who
were more accustomed to war, and rushed
upon them again ami again with spear
men and archers and chariots.
2. "Followed hard upon Saul and upon
Ills sons:" the three sons who were with
(him in the battle. Saul had another son.
Ishhoshetli. who was not there, and hence
'survived him. "Slew Jonathan.” Flght
'ing bravely as of yore.
• IV. The Death of Saul and Jonathan.—
'Vs. 2-10. Jonathan was slain first, as wo
have seen.
3. "The battle went sore against Saul.”
•The Vulgate has a striking paraphrase;
'"The whole weight of the battle was dl
reeted against Saul " "And the archers
hit him." "Got him In range."—Int. Crlt.
[Com. “And he was sore wounded of the
archers."
t. "Then said Haul unto his armorbear
er, Draw thy sword . . . lest these uneir
.cumelsed" (Philistines) "abuse we.”
Mock him, torture him. He must die
anyway, and he would tather die by one
thrust of the sword than by slow tortures
it the hands of cruel enemies, and be
mutilated afterwards. "But his armor
hearer would not; for he was sore afraid."
It would he worse than death to kill tho
man he was appointed to defend with his
life. He could never have peace again,
and the people would hold him guilty of
the most dastardly murder. "Haul took a
sword, and fell upon It.” "Planting tho
hilt in the ground, he fell upon the point.
—Mime.
«. "So Saul died." The young Amule
klte. who brought the news to David, de
clared that he killed him (2 Sam. Ld-JO),
but evidently In* lied In hopes of reward.
"And all his men.” His personal staff,
and all of Ids sons who were In the battle.
"And they cut off his head.” To
send as a trophy and proof of their vic
tory. It was hung In the temple of Dagon
-at Ashdod (1 t’hron. 10:10). "Stripped off
ihis armor, and sent Into the land . . .
to publish It In the house of their Idols."
10. "They fastened his body to the
wall." Together with the bodies of his
sons (v. 12). "They were hung on tho
wall In the ‘open place' (2 Sam. 21:12; A.
\ .. street) by the gate, that all passers
by might Join In exulting over the defeat
and disgrace of Israel.”—Cambridge Bible.
V. A \ allant Act of Grateful Kemum
brance.—Vs. 11-13. 11. "And when tho In
habitants of Jabesh-gllea.i heard." Ja
besh-gllpad was a city of Manasseh. cast
of the Jordan, about ten miles across the
Jordan Valley from Beth-shan. The In
habitants remembered the splendid feat
of arms by which King Haul at the very
beginning of his reign delivered them
from the Ammonites under Nuhash, who
agreed to spare them only on condition
of the loss of their right eyes.
12. "All tho valiant men. Went all
night. And burnt them there.” The rea
son for their thus acting lg clear. The
mutilated trunks had been exposed for
some days to the air, and the flesh was
no doubt In a state of putrefaetlon. The
bones unconsumed were reverently taken
away with them.
13. "And burled them under a tree at
Jabesh." R. V.. "the tamarisk tree."
’•'heir own beautiful and famous tamarisk
tree in Gilead. We learned from 2 Ham.
21:12-14, that the bones of Saul and Jona
than were subsequently removed, by
David's order, to their ancestral sepul
cher.”—Professor Green.
VII. Lessons from the Life of Saul.
First. The Bright Beginning. Possibili
ties and Hopes. Few lives have begun
with blighter hopes, more splendid prom
ises. more brilliant possibilities, than
Haul's.
Second. The Testing Season. In tho
earlier part of his reign Saul was subject
ed to two great tests, and failed in both
cases.
The source of his failure was his rejec
tion of God as his King and Guide. It
was the want of obedience and faith.
"Without true piety the finest qualities
of character, and the highest position in
society, will fall utterly to make a true
and noble man. If Saul's heart had been
true to God, he would have been one of
the grandest specimens of humanity: but.
lacking this true obedience to God, he
made his life an utter failure, and hi*
character a moral wreck.”—Taylor.
The Olive Branch.
Noah opened a window of the ark
and sent out over the waste of
waters a white dove. And when the
dove returned she bore in her mouth
an olive branch. Noah put out his
hand, drew her in, and when he saw
the olive branch he knew that the
waters of God's wrath were subsid
ing. and that peace would once more
reign over the earth. There is a
white dove that knocks at every
human breast—the dove of purity,
truth and virtue—bearing in her
mouth the olive branch of peace.
