THAT GIRL of JOHNSON S
'Ey JEA.fi Z.A.TE LWLX/M.
Anther 0/ "At a Ctrl's Merer." CM.
Entered According to Act of Congrew in the Year into if Street A Smith,
In the OSice of the Librarian of CongreM. et Waghinston, D. C.
CHAPTER XIV—Continued.
“He Is my lather, and they will
not let me in there, yet he can see
ulm."
The nurse laid her hand caressing
ly on the girl's arm.
"Of course," she said, in a matter
of fact tone. "Remember, Dolores, it
13 years since he has seen your fath
er. And do you know, as soon as he
is better we are going to take him
over to the town so you can nurse
him to your heart’s content? There
are pretty houses in the town, and
vour uncle intends buying one and
furnishing it for you. There's a fine
blacksmith's shop with a good busi
ness for your fath^\ and he is to have
a housekeeper and everything com
fortable while you are in New V ork
with us.
“Your uncle will bo ready in a mo
ment, and he does not like to wait;
you needn’t change your dress, and
can wear my wrap and bonnet. Dora
will fix everything when you get there.
Here is her note; you have not yet
read it. Shall I read it for you while
you get ready?”
She stooped and picked up the note I
where it had fallen, talking continu
ally, giving the girl no time to reply
had she so wished.
"Dora whites such a pretty hand;
they say those who draw well write
well, and Dora makes charming
sketches. Here is your note; it reads
like her, only one misses her pretty
voice.”
Mrs. Allen spoke rapidly, but with
not a trace of excitement; more as
though she would give the girl no time
to think. She unfolded the soft gray
shawl, and laid it over a chair, then
she opened the note with no break in
the conversation, and read aloud;
“My Dear New Cousin;—Nurse Al
len lias told you I have come to claim
you, or rather have come part way
to claim you. They will not allow me
to go out to-day, so father has prom
ised me solemnly that he will bring
you with him to me. Nurse Allen will
take good care of him, and bring him
to us by and by, and we can go over
to see him when the weather is dry.
Give him my love. I hope he is better,
and will go to see him soon. Come to
me at once; I wdsh you, Dolores John
son, and can wait no longer.
“DORA.”
CHAPTER XV.
Dolores' Reply.
Dolores listened quietly, with no
sign of impatience or interest; she
stood erect and silent, her eyes rest
ing calmly on Mrs. Allen’s face.
The bedroom door opened, and her
uncle came out, accompanied by young
Green and Dr. Dunwiddie. He no
ticed the wraps made ready, and spoke
cheerily:
"Well my dear, are you ready? My
girl will be watching for us—eh,
Green? And if you are ready we will
go at once.”
Mrs. Alien advanced and began put
ting the wraps around the girl, but
Dolores stepped back to avoid her,
giving her a slow glance as of re
proach, then she turned away from
the others toward the physician who
was talking earnestly to young Green
at the farther window.
There was no trace of agitation in
♦ he young girl's face or manner as she
“You can tell me if you will."
crossed the room to the two at the
small south window.
' “Dr. Dunwiddle,” she said, gravely.
Her eyes were searching his for the
truth; she never glanced at his com
panion. “Dr. Dunwiddle.” she con
tinued, slowly and distinctly, “you can
tell me If you will. There is no rea
son why I should not know the truth;
is he not my father? Have I not a
right, to know? Do you think this is
fair or just? Ail the other women of
the settlement care for the men when
there is need, there is no reason-why
J should not do the same if there is
need, and there must he. else why are
these strangers here, and why is he
kept so quiet? I do not understand it,
and 1 cannot unless you will tell me.
And here Is my uncle here waiting to
take me away from my father, to leave
him to be taken care of by strangers.
I do not know my uncle; no doubt he
wishes us well, but he Is a stranger to
me. Dora does not know,” she lin
gered over the name—“how could she
know, or I am sure she would not wish
me to go; she could not wish to go;
she would not do it herself—you know
■he would not do It herself. Do you
think I do not know something ails
my father more than you have said?”
The bedroom door opened noiseless
ly, and Dr. Grey came out. As he
stepped inm the room, closing the door
behind him, Dr. Dunwlddie motioned
for him to return, but he shook his
head emphatically.
“He's like a log, Hal; the trump of
the archangel alone could arouse him.
I’ve stuck to him day and night like an
obedient puppet; now I want a
change; what’s all this going on out
here? What ails you people?”
Dr. Dunwiddie frowned, and htfa
voice was almost sharp as he an
swered :
“There is nothing going on here to
interest you, Tom, and Mr. Johnson
must not be left alone one moment.
If you nre tired, I will take your place
until—”
“Until it's over," the other inter
rupted. “Ixtrd knows 1 wish it were
well over; it’s a dused bad piece of
business, anyhow, and I wish I were
cut of it.”
He was stopped by a gesture from
Dr. Dunwiddie. Young Green also
turned on him with flashing eyes.
Dolores seemed turning into stone;
her face was whitening, and her eyes
dilating; her voice sounded strange
even to herself as she laid her hand
on the doctor s arm as he was passing
her.
"You will not go until you have an
swered me, I)r. Dunwlddie?”
It was more a command than a
query; her eyes were full on him, and
he paused instinctively.
Her uncle spoke Impatiently: like
all men, he disliked scenes; this girl
seemed capable of getting one up at
almost any moment.
“My dear Dolores," he said. “Dora
is waiting for us. Why do you bother
the doctors?” They know much bet
ter than we do what is best to be done.
Come, like a good girl, let us go; we
are only hindering the others.’’
"Why should 1 hinder them?" she
asked, gravely. “They are strangers
here; he is my father.”
“Yes, of course,” he said, brusquely.
“Of course, Dolores. We all know'
that, but they know much better than
we do what Is best to be done. Dora
is waiting for you—It is better In
every way for us to go.”
She stood erect and slender among
them, her print gown falling around
her to her feet, her face catching the
shadows of the storm upon it.
“Did I not say.” the voice was al
most solemn In its grave earnestness,
“that I will not leave him—ever—
while he lives—not for any one?”
None of them Bpoke for a moment;
not one of them was capable of de
ceiving her as she stood so grave and
quiet waiting his reply. That she had
a right to know, a better right than
they, could not be denied. She had
spoken the truth; she was a woman
capable of enduring much, of suffering
much; she was not a child to be put
off with evasive replies.
Dr. Grey stood at the bed room door;
he had not moved since the girl spoke;
she impressed him as she impressed
the others. Young Green looked trou
bled; he started as though he would
go to Dolores, and checked himself.
Even Dr. Dunwiddie was somewhat
disquieted; he looked beyond the girl
otu of the opposite window.
They waited for him to speak; the
girl knew he would tell her; the oth
ers were sure he would do what was
best. As his gaze left the window and
he turned to Dolores, he caught the
look on young Green’s face. His own
cleared instantly; he was himself
again, grave, practical, a thorough phy
sician and gentleman.
"My dear Miss Johnson," he said—
he was grave, courteous; her eyes did
not leave his face—searching, steady
eyes—"when your father fell—fully
twenty feet it was—he struck the
ledge with great force; had he dropped
it might scarcely have hurt him,
though it is evident that the ledge
below is rocky and the bushes scrub
by and sharp; as it was, he lost his
balance and slipped down suddenly
with a force I wonder did not kill him
outright.
"As it is, he broke both legs and an
arm, besides internal injuries which
cannot be determined upon at once."
She watched him steadily; instinc
tively she knew he had not told her
all. Her lips were white, and set in a
straight line. Mrs. Allen crossed over
and touched her hand, but she paid
no heed to her; she was waiting to
know the worst.
“You know how he was brought
home,’’ continued Dr. Dunwiddie. "You
were the one who found him; to you
he owes his life—you and Charlie. His
right leg was broken below the knee;
we act that and his arm yesterday,
but his left leg—”
His voice was steady and grave.
Mrs. Allen's face was blanching; how
the girl would take it she did not
know; she was used to many affecting
scenes, but this was totally different.
"His left leg is broken in two places.
Mi38 Johnson. We did not wish to
tell you till the worst was over, but it
is best you should know. Your father
remained so long in that position in
the night dampness, in his exhausted
state, that we dared do nothing yes
terday. We wished to save this limb
if it were possible; it would be worse
than folly to attempt it; it is best that
it should go. Then, with careful nurs
ing, we may bring him around all
r'glit."
Still Dolores did not move; sha
wished lo understand it thoroughly, as
yet the truth was but slowly dawning
upon her.
"I thought that you were not capa
ble of hearing thp truth; I believed
you were like many women: 1 see how
mistaken 1 was; your friend here,”
with a movement of bis hand and a
half smile toward young Green, "tried
to impress upon me that you were
braver than other women, but 1 would
not be convinced. I know now that
you are brave—brave enough for this
—and worse.”
She understood. The truth wa» up
on her in all the blackness of dark
ness. There had been littlo love he
tween her and her father, but he w»s
the only one in the world to her, and
now—
"Then—he will—die—you think?”
She asked it calmly, except that
her lips were whiter than usual anti
stiff, so that the words came uneven
ly.
"I think that he may die, Misa
Johnson, but we will hope for tha
best.”
"You will let me nurse him?” she
asked. Her face was lifted to his, and
there was not a quiver of a muscle,
not (he trembling of the white lids
fringed with the silken lashes over the
steady, searching eyes.
"You shall nurse him.” Dr. Dntiw’id
“Don’t go in yet, Dolores.”
die replied, gravely, a flash of wonder
ing admiration in his blark eyes meet
ing hers in that comprhenslve glance
that showed to him the depth of this
woman's soul, the marvelous strength
of her self-command. Ah, Indeed she
should nurse him.
As he turned away toward the bed
room she started to follow him, but
Mrs. Allen laid her hand upon her
shoulder, and young Green crossed
quickly to her side, his face softened
strangely.
“Don’t go In yet, Dolores—not Just
yet!” he said, entreatingly, bending his
fal$ head on a level with hers, the
kindly light deepening in his eyes as
they met the half-dazed look in hers
raised to his face. “You shall go as
soon as it is best. I will let you go
there now.”
Her eyes searched his face, large
and dark and beautiful eyes they
were; she scarcely recognized him for
the moment.
“Why should I not go?” she asked,
gravely. “I am to nurse him; Dr.
Dunwiddie has promised that I shall.
Is he not my father?”
But his hand was upon her arm
strong and warm and tender, and she
obeyed him silently.
Her uncle left soon after, and Mrs.
Allen sent a note to Dora explaining
the strange scene. Dolores said no
word. She scarcely heard what was
going on around her; when her uncle
stooped to kiss her forehead an#
promised that Dora should come to
her as soon as it were possible she
looked through and through him; she
heard his words, but they made no im
pression upon her; her thoughts were
in the quiet room beyond the closed
door.
(To be continued.)
NO CAKE FOR HER.
Youngster Thought He Had a Griev
ance Against His Mother.
The late Mrs. James G. Blaine used
to relate charmingly the unconscious
witticisms of her sons’ and daughters’
childhood. She once said:
“When James, his father’s name
sake, was a little chap, he discussed
for a long time one day the subject
of wedding cakes. He made tne tell
him all about wedding cakes—how
they are made, how they are cut, and
how pieces of them are sent to the
friends of brides and grooms. This
last custom he was especially pleased
with. He thought a piece of wedding
cake made a delightful gift.
“Then he pondered for a moment.
He frowned. He said.
“ ‘But, mamma, I shan’t send you
any of my wedding cake when I get
married.’
“ ’Why not. my dear?’ I asked.
“ ‘Because,’ he said, ‘you didn't send
me any of yours.’ ”
Not Much Use for a Trunk.
Gen. Joseph W. Congdon, the presi
dent of the American Silk Associa
tion, was traveling some time ago in
Georgia. He says that in a little
Georgia town he one day heard two
colored lads conversing.
“I’se gwine No'th,” 6aid the first.
“Das so?” said the second.
“Yep. I se got a trunk to take wiv
me, too.”
“A trunk? What am a trunk for?r
“W’y to tote yuh clo’s in.”
‘‘An’ go naked?”
Traveling Christians.
It is stated that “The Gideons” are
growing at the rate of 130 members t
month.
JIAKE GOOD CITIZENS|
OF THE IMMIGRANTS WHO COME
TO OUR SHORES.
This Can Be Done by Continuing Our
Protection Policy, Whereby We In
sure Them Work, Wages and a
Higher Standard of Living.
Immigration under present condi
tions presents a serious problem.
No one can sit at his desk and ab
sorb the facts that come to us in re
ports without appreciating the peril
that threatens should hard times come
to this country.
I atn not an alarmist, but when 1 see
hundreds of thousands of ignorant
foreigners coming into our great cities
every year I think l can realize in
jome degree the danger that will
come from their discontent and dis
satisfaction when there are no wages
to be earned.—Commissioner Sargent.
“When there are no wages to be
earned.” What memories such a sup
position brings up. It carries us back
to the days of panic and idleness fol
lowing the compromise tariff of 1833;
it carries us back to the workless and
wrageless days and years between
1850 and 1860. brought on by free
trade; it carries us back to the idle
me and women of 1805-6, and the loss
of earnings due to the free trade law
of 1894.
With the experience and knowledge
which we gained from these awful pe
riods following free trade legislation,
we can well appreciate the necessity
of continuing our present excellent
tariff law to enable us to care for
these millions who are coming to our
shores. We must protect them by
continuing to protect our labor and in
dustry from one end of the country
to the other. It may be that some
of these immigrants are of an unde
sirable character. It may be that bet
ter immigration laws are desirable.
That is something that we must leave
to the wisdom of Congress. What
ev«r the present law is wo must ac
cept it and face tho conditions which
are before us. It is protection and
prosperity that invites those foreign
ers to our shores. They do not come
well as our Industries; that we wn
tlnue to maintain and build up our
home market. wo:-th more than all the
markets of the world combined, and
that w* do not disturb the causes of
the present splendid growth of indus
tries, our splendid advancement ol
citizenship and our splendid standard
of living, which cannot help but in
vite those abroad who have been
struggling for a bare subsistence, and
have in their natures a single spark
of ambition.
England's Condition.
Our exports of manufactured goods
to protectionist countries are steadily
decreasing. Our Imports of manu
factured goods from these very coun
tries are steadily rising. The pro
tected states not only shut our goods
out of the market but ara shutting
them out of our home market. We
now import as much manufactured
goods as we export to the protected
states on both ‘•'"’es of the Atlantic.
The workingman s on;»«patlon Is go
ing, aud occupation is income. Capi
tal Is also going. It has been lost
altogether to a large amount by the
falling off of our Industries, and It
is further scared Into seeking abroad
the Investments which business
ceases to offer at home. That is a
serious condition of affairs for all of
us, and most of all for the working
man. We cannot meet it by cheapen
ing the food, we cannot even prevent
food from becoming dearer, and the
country Is asked to consider whether
there are no means of getting more
money to buy food with—London
Times.
Nothing to Fear.
We protect our manufacturers by
preserving the home market to them,
and being so stimulated they are able
to supply that market and ha\ o larrger
surpluses to seud abroad. Kngland
might attempt to protect her agricul
tural population (considering those in
her colonies), but she would still
have to import food. We mlr'it doubt
the efficacy of our protective system
if we still had to import most of out
manufactures. As it is, our food ques«
tion and our manufacturing question
are wholly disassociated, save as
thriving manufactures make demand
HAVING
CIRCUS ALL BY HIMSELF.
TWO HEADER/
V ELEPHANT
Sltff
^APROCRESSIVE’IDEA.
in such numbers when we are living
under free trade. The same fiscal
policy which invites them must pro
tect them and enable them to gain
a foothold and become profitable mem
bers of the great American army of
producers and consumers.
It does not take so very long for a
foreigner leaving his home where he
gained an income of perhaps twenty
cents a day to become a good Ameri
can citizen earning ten times that
amount per day. Perhaps at first the
foreigner is careful of his dollars, and
is not so liberal in his expenditures
as the native born and those who have
been citizens a number of years. But
he soon begins to aim at the Ameri
can standard of living, he becomes
ambitious to own his own business
and his own home, and to dress and
eat and enjoy the same luxuries as
the average American citizen through
out the country.
Our home market has most appre
ciably increased annually, not only by
our own augmented wants, but by the
increased demands of the newcomer.
In but a few years the most diligent
become Independent, while a few join
our wealthy classes. Among our mil
lionarles to-day can be found the rep
resentatives of every nation on earth,
many of whom came to our shore but
a few years ago penniless. It may
be that our immigration laws are too
liberal, or It may be that they are
too liberally administered. At the
same time we have gone on now for
over a century inviting the poor and
the weak from abroad to this country
of opportunity. There need bo no
fear but what the the vast majority
of these immigrants will in a very
short time become good American clti
rens, law abiding, well to do, and
reputable upbuilders of the nation’s in
stitutions. There may be lawless
characters among them, and these
much be checked with a firm hand at
the first evidence of any outbreak
against the country’s laws and cus
toms.
No doubt a return to free trade and
Idleness would bring a condition aw
ful to contemplate. It would bring
riot and war with the inevitable pov
erty and ruin and death which follow
In the wake of a fiscal policy giving
no opportunity for employment and no
chance for compensation. Let us see
to it, then, that we continue our pres
ent most admirable fiscal policy; that
we continue to protect our men as
for the products of our soil. But in
Europe these questions are inextri
cably mixed, and the protective tarifl
cannot be used in the case of either
of them without seriously injuring the
other.
So we really have nothing to fear
in any European proposal for Tariffs
of the protective kind, whether di
rected against the interests of the
United States or in a vain endeavor
to exalt some country above the sta
tion which nature has assigned her.—
Kansas City Journal.
Up Against It.
Even with a united party the
Democracy is in the minority in the
United States. Under the best possi
ble conditions for itself, it would have
great difllculty in making headway
against the Republican party. In
every aspect the situation is adverse
to the Democrats. The Republican
party, ever since its return to power,
has governed the country wisely and
successfully. The Democracy has no
policy which is calculated to win the
popular regard. It has no leader
whom any considerable body of the
American people respect. The con
ditions all point to a big victory for
the Republicans in 1904.—St. Louis
Globe-Democrat.
All Things to All Men.
Gov. Cummins' idea of tariff legisla*
tion is in these words: "Duties that
are too low should bo increased, ana
duties that are too high should be re
duced.” If that blanket doesn’t cover
the entire political aggregation, we
can't imagine one sufficiently elastic
to do the Job. There’s not a Repub
lican or a Democrat, a Populist or any
other brand of politician who cannot
indorse such a deliverance, for it
means all things to all men. Even the
straight-out free trader can shelter
himself under it.—Montgomery (Ala.»
Advertiser.
Good Object Lesson*.
Imports (or the year ending last
March aggregate one billion dollars.
That “robber tariff’ wall was real
high, but It helped Uncle Sam pay
pensions, establish rural routes. Im
prove rivers and erect public build
ings, and so forth. Looking at
little things, it’s a good Idea to Use;
on letting well enough alone.—Bray
mer (Mo.) Comet.
THE SUNDAY SCHOOL.
LECSON XII., SEPT. 20—ABSTI
NENCE FROM EVIL.
Golden Text—“Be Not Drunk with
Wine, Wherein la Excess”—Eph.
5:1C—The True Life and the Evil
Life Contrasted.
1. The Noble and Blessed Life In Jesus
Christ.—Vs. i. 2. 1. “Forasmuch then."
Referring back to t Peter 3:18, where It Is
stated that Christ suffered for the un
righteous that he might bring us to (tod.
"As Christ hath suffered In the
flesh.” Since he has thus opened the way
of salvation, of forgiveness and a new
heart and new life; and since he has set
you the example of doing right ut any
cost, even at the cost of crucifixion, "Ann
yourselves.” As your defense against the
great enemy of yourselves and of the
world.
2. “No longer ... in the flesh to
the lusts of men." The sinful desires of
human nature which men naturally give
Indulgence to. The lusts of men here de
tines what is meant by the flesh. "But
to the will of God," which is that he
should be holy "ns It is in heaven.” Just
as Christ having died, as to the body, on
the cross, was raised again to a new and
glorious life, so those who crucify the
passions and lusts have done It that they
too may life a new and glorious life, as
much beyond their former life as the res
urrection life of glory Is beyond the nat
ural life of the body.
II The Hlnful Life to Be Repudiated
and Forsaken.—Vs. 3. 4 3. "The time
past of our life may suffice us.” We have'
had an abundant experience of the evil
life; we know Its cup of pleasure with
the dregs of misery; wo have felt its
scorpion stings, its hollowness as the ap
ples of Sodom. We have already wasted
too much of our lives in these things. It
Is high time to make a change. "Have
wrought the will” ithe desire, the In
clination) "of the Gentiles,” the Idolaters.
4. 'Wherein they think it strange.” It
Is not hard, even from our own experi
ence. to picture to ourselves the surprise
of the heathen when he fuuhd his friend
refusing an Invitation to a banquet,
shrinking from contact with the prosti
tutes of Greek cities, or when there, pass
ing tile wine-cup untasted.”—Cambridge
Bible.
Temperance Applications. Strong drink
leads to all vices. They flourish best un
der its influence. It weakens the will that
would resist them, obscures the Intellect,
dulls the conscience, and inflames the
passions. While there are very had men
who do not use Intoxicating liquor. It Is
still true that It Is closely connected with
crime, and many crimes would not be
committed except under its influence. It
is the mother of crimes.
III. The Forces by which the New Dlfe
Call Overcome the Evil Life. -Vs. 5-11.
There are two directions In which wo need
every power, every Influence, every mo
tive by which evil can he overcome.
We nciil every help for our own lives
and In arts, to keep us from evil, and to
deliver us from Its power. We need them
especially against the temptations to use
strong drink. It Is only by subduing, not
this appetite alone, but all forms of sin
ful passion and desire, that we can really
conquer the appetite for strong drink.
We need every motive, every possible
force, to overcome the evil In the com
munity. We are warring against tha
principalities und powers of evil, en
trenched In appetite. In customs, In self
ishness. In wealth. In social, life. In po
litical ambitions, and we need every
weapon of warfare which can help over
come all these, and especially the demons
of Intemperance.
1. The Day of Judgment. 5. "Who
shall give account." No one can sin with
Impunity. A Judgment day hangs ever
more over the head of every sinner like
the Hword of Damocles. "The quick" are
the living. This Judgment came upon the
world In Noah's time. It came upon the
Jewish nation in two or three years after
this epistle was written. There Is still
a Judgment to come (Matt. 25). This fact
Is a powerful incentive to the forsaking
of sin. It Is a powerful motive also for
patiently laboring in a good cause.
2. The Qospel. 6. “For this cause was
the gospel preached.” The good news of
the Saviour, of forgiveness, of the love
of God. of u holy heaven." To them that
are dead." PaHt generations. "That they
might be Judged according to men." Pun
ished. chastened, as other men. In the
body by sickness, pain, and death, and in
temporal things. And the purpose of all
this was that they might .'live according
to God In the spirit.” It was not to de
stroy them, but to save them to a high,
noble, spiritual life.
3. The Ntarness of the Kingdom of
God. 7. "The end of all things Is at
hand." Compare "our lord's words, ‘then
shall the end be’ (Matt. 24:6-1*).
4. Self-control. “Do ye therefore so
ber.” of round mind, of good und wise
Judgm< nt. be temperate. Aristotle uses
this word to express the harmony of the
affections and desires with reason.
6. Watchfulness. “And watch." Re
temperate, collected In spirit, circumspect,
especially referring to abstinence from
wine and strong drink, for strong drink
produces exactly the opposite frame of
mind, and puts one off his guard, distort
ing his Judgment.
«. Prayer. Taking holu of the power
of <»od. No one Is strong enough to gain
the victory without the help of (Jod, and
without the consciousness of his preaenco
and power, whloh comes through prayer.
Especially do we need to pray for those
whom we would save from the power of
sin; and pray for wisdom to guide all our
efforts and plans.
7. I.ove 8. ‘‘Have fervent." The
word Implies "Intense strain,” “oil the
rack," “ceaseless." “Charity." love. The
deepest, noblest, most powerful, most
heavenly thing In man, and the most dif
11c ult to obtain. Hut even our Imperfect
love Is our most effective weapon for
overcoming the evils of the world both In
ourselves and In others. Hence, “love
your enemies," and the command to “ov
ercome evil with good.” “For charity"
(love) "shall cover the multitude of sins.'*
Bury them out of sight, slay them, and
bury them.
8. Hospitality. 9. “t'se hospitality
. . without grudging” or murmuring.
The power of hospitality In Christian and
reformatory work has not even yet been
realized by the church, although much
has been gained through church and
Christian Endeavor sociables. Every
home should be a center of Christian hos
pitality, "given to hospitality’’ (Rom. 1C:
13). There are many students and clerks
and homeless ones coming into our cities
and towns, and few powers within our
reach are of greater value for good than
the extension of the hospitality of our
Christian homes to such homeless and
lonely persons. Here Is a power which
nearly all can use.
Calls to Duty.
For all men all life Is a series of
testings; every day is a judgment
day. tfere is some call to duty; shall
we accept it or decline it? Pain comes
to us; shall we fret and chafe under
it, or bear it bravely and try to see its
deeper meaning? Some richness of
life is ours—knowledge, position, abil
ity, money. Shall we clutch these
things for ourselves or hold them in
trust for the enriching of another life?
No man can escape these questions,
and upon his answer depends his
value of the social order.