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CHAPTER I.
'
' i
fir
GREAT storm had
raged with una-
1 ated1 fury for three
days , but now at
the shutting down
o f twilight t h e
clouds were break-
dug , and toward
the sunset there
gleamed a single
spark of blood-red
light low UOWn
upon the western mountains. The wind
had changed from the east , and the
breeze that fanned the boyish brow of
Ralph Trenholme as he paced back and
forth over the shingly shore , was like
the breath of early June. And it was
the last of October. The sea was still
high , tossing in at intervals remnants
of the ill-starred ship that had gone to
pieces on 'Joliet Rock , just outside the I
harbor mouth of Portlea.
How anxious had been the hearts on I
shore far that wretched ship ! How
earnestly they had watched it since
early dawn , when it had appeared in the
offing-driven about helpless , at the
mercy of the winds and waters , and at
last dashed upon the cruel rocks. They
had devised vainly among themselves ,
those hardy fishermen , ways and means
to save the vessel from her fate. The
proud mistress of Trenholme house-
better known as Nigh Rock-had come
out into the storm , as pale and anxious
at the rudest fisherman's wife among
them-come out to beg them to do all
that human arm could do ; to offer them
gold if they could save but one poor
life ; and those brave , courageous men
had looked at her , and at each over ,
sorrowfully and in silence : they knew
by stern experience that no boat could
live an hour In a sea like that. And so
the ship was left to go down unaided.
But Ralph Trenholme could not be
quiet. With the daring impulsiveness
of a boy of fourteen , he had thrice
launched the Sea Foam , his own little
boat to go to the aid of the sufferers ,
but as many times had the men of the
coast forced him back. They would t
!
not stand by and see him go to death
for nought. Ralph fought against
them bravely , but was obliged to yield ,
and restless , and chafing at his inactivity -
tivity , which seemed to him almost
cowardly , he paced the shore , and
looked1' out to sea.
There came a great wave. Ile watched
it rising afar off , and saw that it bore
upon its crest something whiter than
even the foam. He darted down to the
water line , and stood there when it
came so near that it drenched him
through , but he caught the precious
freight it bore in his arms , and by the
wan light he looked into the face of a
little child-a girl-perhaps six or seven
years old , with pure features , stilled
into calm repose , and long , curling locks
of gold , floating dripping down , and
tangled with seaweed. She was dressed
in white , and around her waist was a ,
scarf of blue tissue , but the other end
was lost , torn away , probably , from the
support to which she had been bound
by some one who had cared to save her. 1
Ralph gathered her up with something
like triumph swelling his heart. If
she were only alive he might have the I
satisfaction of knowing that he had i
saved a life , for if she had been dashed
in upon the shore , the sharp rocks
would have crushed out from that beautiful -
tiful face every semblance of humanity.
He puts his lips down to hers. There f
was a faint warmth. He ran up the
steep path leading to High Rock , bearing -
ing his treasure in his arms , and in to r
his mother , who was sitting before the y
g reat fire that streamed redly up the '
chimney. C
"See what the sea has given me ! " he , a
cried , putting her down on the sofa. "A j
real little sea nymph ! and as beautiful 1 f
as an angel ! " c
"Softly , my son , " said Mr's. Trens
holme , with mild dignity. "Ruin for u
Dr. Hudson-perhaps she can be re-
stored. t
Ralph was off instantly , but when he lh
returned with the doctor , the little girl
did not need his aid ; she was sitting up , t
and looking around her with great , f
wondering eyes , and a flush of scarlet gen
on either cheek. But when they questioned - o
tioned her , she could give no satisfactory - c
tory reply. She put her hand to her
forehead , in a confused sort of way ,
and said she could not remember. All
knowledge of the past was blotted out.
It was as if it had never been. She
had forgotten her own name. She did
not even remember that she had been l
on shipboard , and when that' asked her i
about her parents , she looled at them
in such a dazed sort of a way that Mrs.
Trenholme saw at once it was useless
to press the matter. The severe shock
her nervous system had received from
remaining so long in the water had
brought total oblivion of the past.
Her clothing was fine and costly. . , but' P
, there were no trinkets by which any it
could be obtained' . h ;
' -clue to her parentage ,
The only thing that might serve to is
minute scarlet cross , au
identifr her was a
just below the shoulder , on her arum s
a mark that had evidently been pricked
into her skin with some indelible sub-
stance.
After a few weeks the wonder and
curiosity which this sole survivor of
the wreck had excited died away , and
Mrs. Trenholme , yielding to the earnest -
est solicitations of Ralph , deelded to
adopt her , and rear her as her own.
The child was christened Marina , which
means from the sea , and turned over to
the care of Kate Lane , the nurse , who
still had the charge of Agnes , Mrs.
Trenholme's little six years' old daugh-
ter.
Marina was a beautiful child-you
would seldom see a beauty so faultless
r as hers. Every day developed some
new charm. Hcr golden hair , grew
more golden , her eyes bucr ! and deeper ,
and her smile rarer and sweeter. Oc-
I casionally , she wound break out into
snatches of malodtes
song - old -
strange to all who listened , something
I
she must. have learned iii other lands ,
and beneath snhnicr skies.
The waif lead found a good home , all
the neighberhood' said. So she had.
lfigh Rock was the manor house of the
vicinity , the Trenholmes the wealthiest
I old family in that part of the state.
The lands belonging to the estate were
.wide and fertile , the old house was a
romance in itself , albeit a most stately
one. It was built far out on a great
peak , closely overhanging the sea-a
massive structure of gray stone , with
towers and gable windows , and wide
piazzas.
Mr. Trenholme had held many offices
of publq ! trust , and as a man and a
scholar had stood very high. He had
died suddenly , two years before the
opening of cur story. Mrs. Trenholtne
had truly and tenderly loved her husband -
band , and natures dike hers never for-
get. Her best consolation she found in
the affection she bore her children ; and
Ralph and Agnes were worthy of all
the love she gave them. With very
little of thew mother's haughty pride ,
they had inherited all her beauty and
gentleness , while to Ralph , along with
his father's fine intellect , had d sce : ded
his earnest heart , his strong affections ,
and his almost chivalrous sense of hon-
or. Ralph was eight years older than
Agnes. At fourteen he was a tall , handsome -
some boy , with a dark , clear complexion -
plexion , brown eyes , and curling chestnut -
nut hair. Agnes was of the less intense
type , with delicately cut features , dark
hazel eyes , a pale complexion , and a
flush of scarlet on her sweet lips.
These were the cduiltlren with whom
little Marina was thrown. They grew
up together. The girls loved each outerr
like sisters ; indeed , there was little
chance for them to know the difference.
The children had but few playmates.
The neighborhood was not very select ,
andMrs.Trenholme was very particular.
Lynde Graham , the only child of a poor
fisherman that dwelt at the foot of tle
Rock , was with them most frequently.
The proudest mother in the laud would
have no objection to Lynde Graham as
a playmate for her children. He was
about Ralph's age , a darling , noble-
souled boy.
And sometimes from Ireton Lodge- r
the stately residence of Judge Ireton- t
came Imogene , his daughter , to pay
little visits to the Tr enholmes. Some
day. Imogene Ireton would make hearts
iche ; some day she would be absolutely
Magnificent in her beauty. Even now
she was queenly. Her complexion was
like the creamy petals of a lily : her I
iair and eyes were black as night , and
at times her cheeks flushed like car-
1
nations , and her voice rang out like
t
the music of silver bells. Her whole
bearing was like that of one who knows a
she was barn for conquest. She was e
haughty , arrogant and selfish.
At sixteen , Ralph Trenholme left
home for college. He remained there a
our years , returning home only for a
week or two at vacation time , and then ii
not always seeing Marina and Agnes , I °
rho were at a boarding school for
young misses. After his graduation , he t
made the European tour , and four years b
lapsed before , bronzed and bearded , he i t
gain set feet upon his native land. u
Meanwhile , Lynde Graham had.a
hard battle and t
ought a come off
onqueror. Men witht eyes like his a
eldom fail to accomplish what they a
ndertake with their whole souls. He t
had fitted himself for college , taught ii
o gain the money requisite to defray lr
is expenses _ , and just as Ralph arrived' ' o
home , Lynde Graham had come back e
o the fisher's cottage , with the diploma e
ronr Harvard in his pocket. He had h
graduated with the very highest liono
rs , and at once began studying media
ine with Dr. Hudson , of Portlea.
a
ti
CHAPTER II.
Jc2ELL
i
a
ELL , my son , what w
do you think o : '
your gift from the h
sea ? " said Mrs. I ac
Trenholmeone day , di
few weeks after f
her son's return. st
He was lying on j b
a lounge drawn up i at
before a south n I w
window , where the a i
late October sun ti o
cured in its gold , his head ly-
g in her lap , her white fingers i
dden among his chestnut curds. He m
eked up into her eyes , took her. hand , ; , s
d pressed it slowly to his lips. a at
"I think , dear mother , that she is the b
Itost beautiful being I ever saw. I
have seen the brunettes of Italy , the
fair-faced women of Circassla , the
languid Spaniards , with their eyes of
fire , and the oriental seraphs of the
Turk's harem , but none like Marina. "
Something like a shadow fell over
the face of Mrs. Trenholme. He felt
the change in her voice , slight though
it was.
'Yes , " she said , "Marina is beautiful.
It were a pity that she has no family-
no , name , even , save what we have
given her. Her parentage must ever , I
suppose , remain a secret. Indeed , my
son , I blush sometimes to think of it ,
but perhaps she was the offspring of
shame , and thus abandoned. You will
remember , perhaps , that no female
bodies were ever washed up from the
wreck of the vessel. And it is not Cus-
tomaryfor children like her to be put
on shipboard without a woman's care. "
An angry flush rase to Ralph's cheek.
He sprang up quickly.
"Never , mother ! you wrong her ! I
would stake my life that Marina is
nobly liorri. We may never , in all t
probability we never shall , know the I
secret of her birth , but if we do , marl :
me , tvc shall fund her fully our equal ! "
Mrs. Trenholme smiled at his earnestness -
ness , as she replied :
"To change the conversation , Imo-
gene Ireton is coming here tomorrow ,
for a visit of indefinite length. I think
Imogene will surprise you. You have
not seen her since you left home , I
think ? "
"I have not , but I have no doubt she
has developed wonderfully. Imogene
was always magnificent ! "
"And now she has no lteer. I have
never seen one who would compare with
her. But tomorrow you shall judge for
yourself. "
The conversation closed , and Ralph
thought no more of it , until Imogene
Ireton burst upon him. He was amazed.
He had expected to see a very beautiful
woman , but , instead , he touched the
hand of a princess. Three years older
than Marina , at nineteen she was fully
developed , with a form that would have
driven a sculptor mad with ambition
to rival it. She was rather tall , with
that graceful , high-bred ease of manner -
ner that came to her so naturally , and
the voice that in her young girlhood had
been so sweet , was now a breath of
musical intoxication. Iler complexion
was still rarely clear , the cheeks a little
flushed , the Ilouth a line of scarlet , the
hair dark and lustrously splendid , and
the eyes-such ! eyes are never seen
twice in the world at the same time.
Ralph gazed ! into their depths , with a
strange feeling of bewilderment. She
fascinated him .powerfully , and yet he
felt a sort of coldness creeping round
ills heart-an almost incipient shudder
shock him , as her soft stand fell like a
snowflake into his.
In the daily intercourse which followed -
lowed , the feeling somewhat wore away ,
and though Miss Ireton , at the end of ,
a fortnight , had not succeeded in capturing -
turing the heir of Trenholme , it must
be admitted that she had interested
him. Toward Lynde Graham , who was
at the Rock almost daily , she was cold
and reserved ; she never forgot the distance -
tance bctwcen Judge Ireton's heiress
and the son of a poor fisherman. And
yet , despite her coldness , which at
times was almost scorn , before she returned -
turned home Lynde Graham had
learned to lore her. He kept his un-
1
fortunate secret to himself ; he felt that
ft waild cause him nothing but pain
and sorrow. should it escape him by
word or deed.
The winter passed quietly. There was
i
au occasional pleasure party , but they
were by no means frequent , and it was
not until summer came that the real
t
round of pleasuring , which was des-
med to break the calm of the Rock fcr
m
the season , began.
IT0 of COQ TINGzlt.l t
ti
TI-1ZE WATCH ADJUSTER.
_ - - - t
ro Is 'Sian i Ito.s Delicate Work 3te-
rures Large Experience and Much Skill. he
Perhaps the most highly skilled and c
lest paid men in the watchmaking
Jusiness are the watch adjusters. One t
djuster in a great factory used to re- 1
eive $10,000 a year. The adjuster's q
cork is one of the important elements
f cost in the making of a fine watch , a
nil a $10,000 adjuster shoud ! + be cornn
petent to perfect any watchwhatever Y
s delicacy and cost. It is the business d
f the a l j aster to take a new watch and b
arefully go over all its parts , fitting i n
bcin together that the
so watch may o
e regulated to keep time accurately to y
ie fracion of a minute a month. Reg i
lating is a very lifiercnt process from p
djusting and mt di simpei' ! . A watch g
at cannot be re5ulated so as to keep t
ecurate time may need the hand of the o
djuster , and if it is valuable o f
lie owner will be advised to ti
ave it adjusted. There are n
itch adjusters in New York working ri
n their own account and earning very i n
omfortable incomes. To the adjuster b
very watch that comes under his ft
ands gets to have a character of its pi
wn. He knows every wheel and screw a
ad spindle that help to constitute the I
vatch. He knows its constitution as
physician knows that of an old path
eat. He can say what the watch needs I to
fter an accident , and can advise as to I m
hetiher it is worth adjusting. No new
'atch can be depended upon until it fo
as passed through the hands of thelP
juster , for however admirable the in- I st
vidual parts of the works , their per- f ca
rct balance is to be obtained eniy' by in
tch study and experiment as it is the hi
usineas of the adjuster to make. The f
juster is ahighly-skilled mechanic , ! s
dth wide knowledge of his business ,
d the utmost deftness in its prosecu _ tic
n. is
'is '
Above Mannheim the Rhino is to i e Is
ade navigable as far as Strasburg. pr
a anal veill be inadequate , imt,3rtI
changes must be made in the ri , er it
ed. o 1P
-
ONE G EtE 4T QUESTION.
IT IS : WHAT I'1UST I DO TO BE
SAVED ?
Dr. Titimage Preachoa on the Crying
Need of the Tlmes-Peoplo Are StarvIng -
Ing for that They Know Not What--
It Is Itoliglon.
ASHINGTON ,
Dec. 29 , 1S95.-
For the closing discourse -
course of the year ,
Rev. Dr. Talmage
chose a subject
which appeals to the
unconverted everywhere -
where , viz : "The
Philipplan Jailer. "
The text selected
eras : "Sirs , what
must I do to be saved ? " Acts 10:30.
Incarcerated in aPhilipplan peniten-
tiary , a place cold , and dark , and damp ,
and loathsome , and hideous , unillum-
ined save by the torch of the official
who comes to see if they are alive 1
yet , are two ministers of Christ , their
feet fast in instruments of torture , their i
shoulders dripping from the stroke of
leathern thongs , their mouths hot with
Inflammation of thirst , their heads
faint because they may not lie down.
In a comfortable room of that same ;
building , and amid pleasant surroundings -
ings , is a paid officer o" the government -
ment whose business it is to supervise
the prison. It is night and all is still
in the corridors of the dungeon save
as some murderer struggles with a horrid -
rid dream , or a ruffian turns over in his
chains , or there is the cough of a dying
consumptive amid .ae dampness ; but
suddenly , crash ! go the walls. Tile
two clergymen pass out free The jailI
keeper , althoughh familiar with the ,
darkness and the horrors hovering
around the dungeon , is startled beyond
all bounds , and flambeau in hard he
rushes through amid the falling walls ,
shouting at the top of his voice : "Sirs ,
what must I do to be saved ? "
I stand now among those who are
asking the same question with more or I'
less earnestness and I accost you in this
crisis of your soul with a message from
heaven. There are those in this audience -
once who might be more skillful in
argument than I am ; there are those
here who can dive Into deeper depths
of science , or have larger knowledge ;
there are in this audience those before - i
fore whom I would willingly bow as 1
the inferior to the superior : but I yield
to no one in this assemblage in a desire -
sire to have all the people saved by
the power of an omnipotent Gospel.
I shall proceed to characterize the
1
question of the agitated jail-keeper.
And first , I characterize the question
as courteous. He : night have rushed in
'rnd said : "Paul and Silas , you vagabonds - I
bonds , are you tearing down this prison -
on ? Aren't you satisfied with disturbing - ,
ing the peace of the , ity by your infamous -
famous doctrines ? And are you now
going to destroy public property ? Back
with you to your places , you vans-
bonds ! " He said no such thing. The !
word of four letters , "Sirs ! " equivalent -
lent to "lords , " recognized the majesty
and honor of their mission. Sirs ! If
a man with a captious spirit tries to
find the way to heaven he will miss
t. If a man comes out and pronounces
all Christians as hypocrites and the
religion of Jesus Christ as a fraud , and
asps irritating questicnJ about the
mysterious and the ! nscrutable , sayj j
ng , "Come , my wise man , explain this ; ti
and explain that ; if this be true how ;
can that be true-no such man finds
he way to heaven. The question of I
the text was decent , courteous , gentle- d
anly , deferential. Sirs. t
Again , I characterize this question of I I
he agitated jail-keeper by saying that '
t was a practical question. He did not
ask why God let cma come into the t
world. he did not ask how Christ could I
be God and man in the same person , ' p
did not aslc the doctrine of the de-
rees explained or want to know whom
Cain married , or what was the cause of
he earthquake. His present and ever-
asting welfare was involved do the : s
uestion , and was not that practical ?
But I know multitudes of people who a
re bothering themselves about the
on-essentials of religion. What would d
ou think of a man who should , while p
iscussing the question of the light and : p
eat of the sun , spend his time down p
a coal cellar , when he might come
Lit and ceo the one and feel the other ? h
et there are multitudes of men who ! t
L discussing the chemistry of the Gesw !
el , spend their time down in the dun-
eon of their unbelief , when God all ti
he while stands telling them to come' Pi
ut into the noonday light and warmth I
the Sun of righteousness. The ques- ! b
on for you , my brother , to discuss is , w
of whether Calvin or Arminius was ° f
ght , not whether a handful of water g
holy baptism or a baptistery is the t
etter , not whether foreordination and ti
ee agency can be harmonized. The t , f
actical question for you to discuss , . r
nd for me to discuss , is , "Where will to
spend eternity ? " s
Again , I characterize this question of to
e agitated jail-keeper as one personal b
himself. I have no doubt he had n
any friends , and he was interested in o f
their welfare. I have no doubt he fr
and that there were persons in that h o
risen who , if the earthquake had de. th
royed them , would have found their of
se desperate. life is not questionan
g about them. The while weight of th
s question turns on the pronoun "I. " sf
What shall I do ? " Of course , when Iii
man becomes a Christian , he immeit. .
ately becomes anxious for the salvaor
n of other people , but until that point tli
reached the most important question yr
about your own salvation. "Ti' oat yo
to be my destiny ? " " What are my of
aspects for the future ? " 'Where am
going ? " "What shall I do ? " The .
ouble is we shuffle the responsibility Jo
upon others. We prophecy _ a bad de
end to that inebrlate , and terrific exposure -
posure to that defaulter , and awful catastrophe -
tastropho to that profligate. We are
so busy in weighing other people we
forget ourselves to get into the scales.
We are so busy watching the poor gardens -
dens of other people that we let our
own dooryardgo to weedz. We are so
busy sending off other people into the
lifeboat we sink in the wave. We cry
I "fire ! " because our noighoor's house is
burning down and seem to be uninterested -
. terested although our own house is in
the conflagration. 0 wandering
r thoughts , disappear today. Blot out
i this entire audience except yourself.
iI I Your nibs is it pardoned ? Your death ,
is it provided for ? Your heaven , is It
I secured ? A mightier earthquake than
I that which demolished the Phillppian
I penitentiary will .rumble about your
ears. The foundations of the earth will
I give way. The earth by one tremor will
I fling all the American cities into the
dust. Cathedrals and palaces and prisons -
ons which have stood for thousands of
years will topple like a child's block-
house. The surges of the sea will sub-
merge the land , and the Atlantic and
Pacific oceans above the Alps and the
Andes , clap their hands. What then
will become of me ? What then will become -
come of you ? I do not wonder at the
anxiety of this man of my text , for lie
was not only anxious about the falling -
ing of the prison , ant the falling of
a world.
Again , f remark : I characterize this
question of the agitated jail-ltceper as
one of incomparable importance. Men
are alike , and I suppose he had scores
of questions on his mind , but all questions -
tions for this world are hushed up ,
forgotten , annihilated in thic one question -
tion of the text : " , What must I ( lo to
be saved ? " And have you , my brother ,
any qucstlon of importance compared
with that question ? Is it a question of
business ? Your common sense tells
you that you will soon cease worldly
business. You know very well that
you will soon pass out of that partner-
ship. You know that beyond a certain
point , of all the millions of dollars'
worth of goods sold , you will not handle
a yard of cloth , or a pound of sugar ,
or a penny's worth. After that , if a
conflagration should sweep all Washington -
ington into ashes , it would not touch
you , and would not damage you. If
every cashier should abscond and every
bank suspend payment , and every insurance -
surance company fail , it would not affect -
fect you. Oh , how insignificant is business -
ness this side of the grave compared
with business on Ilre other side the
grave ! Have you made any purchases
for eternity ? Is there any question so
broad at the base , so altitudinous , so
overshadowing as the question : "What
must I do to be savea ? " Or , Is it a
domestic question , is it something about
father , or mother , or husband , or wife ,
or son , or daughter that is the more
important question ? You know by universal -
versal and inexorable law that relation -
tion will soon be broken up. Father
will be gore , mother will be gone , children -
dren will be gone , you will be gone ; but
after that , the question of the text will
begin to harvest its chief gains , or deplore -
plore its worst losses , or roll up its
1
mightiest magnitudes , or sweep its
vaster circles.
Again , I characterize this question of t
the agitated jail-keeper as one crushed
out by his misfortunes , pressed , out
by his misfortunes. The falling of the
penitentiary , his occupation was gone. t
esides that the flight of a prisoner was
ordinarily the death of the jailer. He f
was held responsible. If all had gone °
well , if the prison walls had not been e
shaken of the earthquake , if the prisoners - t
oners had all stayed quiet in the stocks , °
I the morning sunlight had calmly t
ropped on the jailer's pillow , do you
hink he would have hurled this red- r
rot question from his soul into the fl
ear of his apostolic prisoners ? Ah !
no ; you snow as well as I do it was
he earthquake that roused him up. And i
t is trouble that starts a great many
eople to asking the same question. It A
has been so with a multitude of you.
You apparel is not as bright as it once Be
was. Why have you changed the garb ?
Do you not like solferino , and crim-
on , and purple as well as once ? Yes.
But you say : "While I was prospered
nd happy those colors were accordant
with my feelings ; now they would be
iseord to soul. and
my so you have e
laited up the shadows into your ap- !
arel. The world is a very different
lace from what it was once for you !
Once you said : "Oh , if I could only
ave it quiet for a little while. " It is
c
0o quiet. Some people say that they ,
a
ould not bring lack their departed
friends from heaven even if they had
e opportunity ; but if you had the op- P
rtunity you would bring back your ' t
owed ones and soon their feet would h :
e heard in the family , and the odtimes w
ould come back just as the festal days
Christmas and Thanksgiving-days d
one forever. Oh , it is the earthquake q
hat startled you to asking this quesft
on-the earthquake of domestic misw
ortune. Death is so cruel , so devourp1
ng , so relentless , that when it swal- ca
ws up our loved onett we must have
ome one to whom we can carry our I
so
rn and bleeding hearts. We need a th
also m better than anything that ex- Pr
ded from earthly tree to heal the pang of
the soul. It is pleasant to have our . c ut
lends gather around us and tell us
P
w sorry they are , and try to break up a
e loneliness ; but nothing but the hand ch
Jesus Christ can take the bruised soul
d put it in his bosom , hushing it with
e lullaby of heaven. 0 brother ; 0 '
: ter ! the grave-stone will never be
ted from your heart until Christ lifts
Was it not the loss of your friends , ; to
the persecution of your enemies , or , us
e overthrow of your worldly estate-
as it not an earthquake that started I o n
u out to ask this stupendous question an
my text ? of
a s s
in the troubled times of Scotland , Sir f ab
ha Cochrane was condemned to to
alit by the king. The death warrant Ti :
was on the way. $ ir John Cochrane was
bidding farewell to his daughter Grizel
at the prison door. He said : "Farewell ,
my darling child ! I must die. " His
daughter said : "Nofather , you shall not
die. But , ho said"tho lung is against
meand the lawis aftermeaudtho death
warrant is on its way , and I must die ;
do not deceive yourself , my dear child. "
The daughter said : "Father , y ouu ohall
not die , " as she left the prison gate.
At night , on the moors of Scotland , a
disguised wayfarer stood waiting for
the horseman carrying the mail-bags
containing the death warrant. The
disguised wayfarer , as the horse came
by , clutched the bridle and shouted to
the rider-to the man who carried the
f
mall-bass : "Dismount ? " He felt for y
his arms , and was about to shoot , but
i
the wayfarer jerked him from his sad-
die and he fell flat. The wayfarer
picked up the mail-bans , put them on
his shoulder and vanished in the darkness -
ness , and fourteen days were thus l
gamed for the prisoner's life , during
which the father coufessor was pleading -
ing for the pardon of Sir John Cochrane.
The second time the death warrant is
on its way. The disguised wayfarer
comes along , and asks for a little bread
and a little wine , starts on across the
moors , and they say : "Poor man , to
have to go out on suchr a stormy night ;
It Is dark and you will lose yourself on
the moors. " "Oh , no , he says , "I will
not. " lie trudged on and stopped amid
the brambles and waited for the horseman -
man to come carrying the mail-bags
containing the death warrant of Sir
John Cochrane. The mail-carrier
spurred on his steed , for he was fearful
because of what had occurred on the "
formcr journey , spurred air his steed ,
when suddenly through the storm and
through the darkness there was a flash
of firearms and the horse became unmanageable -
manageable , and as the mall-carrier ;
discharged his pistol in rezponse , the
horse flung him , and the disguised wayfarer -
farer put upon hIs shoulders the mailbags -
bags , leaped upon the horse , and sped
away in the darkness , gaining fourteen
more days for the Itoor prisoner , Sir r
John Cochrane ; and before the fourteen -
teen days had expuretlpardon had come
from the king. The door of the prison
swung open , and Sir John Cochrane was
free. One day when he was standing 1r
amid his friends , they congratulating
him , the disguised wayfarer appeared at
the gate , and ho said , "Admit him right
away. " The disguised wayfarer came
in and said : "Here are two letters -
ters ; read them and cast them
into the fire. Sir John read them.
They were his two death warrants -
rants , and he threw them into the fire.
Then said Sir John Cochrane : "To
whom am I Indebted ? Who is this poor
wayfarer that saved my life ? Who Is
it ? " And the wayfarer pulled aside
and pulled off the jerkin and the cloak ,
and the hat , anti lo ! it was Grizel , the
daughter of Sir John Cochrane. "Gracl-
'
eus Heaven ! " he cried , "my child , my
savior , my own Grizel ! " But a more
thrilling story. The death warrant had
come forth from the king of heaven and
earth. The death warrant read : "The
soul that sinneth , it shall ( lie. " The
death warrant coming on the black
iorse of eternal night. We must die !
hilt breasting the storm and putting out
hrough the darkness was a disguised
wayfarer who gripped by the bridle the )
on-coming doom and flung it back , and
put his wounded and bleeding foot on
he overthrown rider. Meanwhile pardon -
don flashed from the throne , and , Go
ree ! Open the gate ! Strike off the
ham ! Go free ! And to-day your lib-
rated soul stands in the presence of
he disguised wayfarer , and as he pulls
f the disguise of his earthly humilla-
ion and the disguise of his thorns ,
and the disguise of the seamless f
obe , you find he is bone of your bone ,
esh of your flesh , your Brother , your
Christ , your Pardon , your Eternal Life.
Let all earth and heaven break forth
n vociferation. Victory through our 1
Lord Jesus Christ !
guilty , weak and helpless worm ,
On thy kind arms I fall ;
Thou my strength and righteousness
ness ,
My Jesus and my all.
FOR WOi'AEN ONLY.
Wash the face everyy morning and
vening in warm water. Follow the
morning ablution by dashing cold
water over it. Use soap at night. 4
If the hands chap wash them in warm
cater at night , partially dry them , rub
odd cream well into their skin and don
pair of loose , fingerless kid gloves.
Thorough drying is half the secret of '
retty hands. In cold weather , when
1'
he slightest dampness will cause the '
nds to chap , they should be rubbed
ith almond meal after drying with a
towel ,
To keep the skin soft rub .t fre-
uently with cold cream. To keep it ,
ee from wrinkles , massage it once a
eek. To keep it clear in color take
enty of exercise and eat nourishing ,
sily digested food.
The nails should be snaked to warm ,
apy water every three days , and when
e cuticle is loosened it should be
essed back and trimmed with a pair
sharp scissors. The nails should ho
C
on the sides , filed in oval shape ,
olished slightly with powder , washed
gain , dried and polished with a
amois rubber.
PERSONAL.
The German emperor is about to take
bicycling , and a track for his private
e is being laid down at Potsdam.
The Prince of Wales receives 4aI ly
an average between five hundred
d six hundred letters , two hundred t
which are begging letters. 4
It is said that whether at hone or
road , the Prince of Wales never.fails
glance through a copy of the London
es each morning.
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