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About The McCook tribune. (McCook, Neb.) 1886-1936 | View Entire Issue (Jan. 14, 1898)
l H INTERNATIONAL PRESS ASSOCIATION. B CHAPTER XXV. H HE receipt of Miss B r SP f ' Hctherlngton's K • S MfP * ' check seemed to H ' 'C SP * como llke oil upon | H < J' ' w' * / the troubled wat- H- , , $ ! &fm * V ers o tlie llttle Hi % ? * -i ' household. Caussi- M l ! ' - i o ; H'j dicrcwas certainly H M M' fyXS. ' ' ' ' Phased. Though it - j • was not so much , t \ ho said , as the old c' v - - - • ' • • • miser might have B sent , it was certainly acceptable under HB the circumstances. 1 After talcing care to pocket the BI draft , he , tossed up the boy and kissed Bff nim and told Marjorie he looked as BB 3f she coddled him too much. Then he B prepared to BB "Shall you be back soon , Leon ? " B -asked Marjorie , timidly. Whenever H B nhc addressed him now she was alB - B ways fearful of the reception of her B K "I shall not return at all , " answered B "Caussidiere ; "or rather , I shall be late , BB -as I dine with a little party of friends. B : Do n ° t up for me. " B ' i And with another kiss blown airily HB to his offspring ho was off. | I Marjorie did not cry or show any Hi slsn that this conduct distressed her. Bl ! She was too used to it for that. She H ! turned in tender despair to her only Bl j comfort the child. They sat alone to- H j gelher , the little one perched on his BS 1 mother's knee , listening opened mouth- H ed as she talked to him of her old BB home. She told him of Miss Hether- B ington , about the manse , and Mr. Lor- 1 raine , who lay quietly asleep in the R I little kirkyard. How strange it would B tt be , she thought , to take the little one B I there. How Miss Hetherington would B B love him ; how old Solomon would BB stare and call it "uncanny" to hear BBB him prattling so prettily in French ! HBB Ah ! but would the day ever come Bfl when she could take him there in- Kv Long after the child had gone to 1 BfB bed , Marjorie sat by the lire thinking ; H { ( of those happy days ; she wrote to 1 BBI Miss Hetherington , concealing as well HflBj as she could the dark spots in her life , , BB speaking cheerfully and happily of her BB little boy , and still dwelling upon the , B hope of one day bringing him to her B home. B Then she sat down to wait for her | K husband. B H Caussidiere was late , and when he | H [ appeared Marjorie saw at a glance that ; BB ail his good humor had left him. He I BlB was angry at finding her up ; accused [ BB < her of wishing to time his going and i ifB coming , and peremptorily ordered her B' l _ to bed. Without a word # Mai-jorie K' * I obeyed ; she saw that he was rather BI ; ! | the worse for liquor , and that any- W k thing she might say would provoke j B * [ I him. BBm& V The next morning she rose early , acT - T Blk cording to her usual custom. To her B By ! r amazement , just as she was about to H mff give the child his breakfast , Caussi- B W ' diere came down. H * \ He had dressed with unusual care ; ; B 1 * J i.e took his breakfast silently , and 1 Bkf \ ( when it was over he went up stairs H j § j ! again to add a few more touches to HKg ) ( his already carefully made toilet ; then RI i he reappeared , nodded to the boy and H. I 1 to Marjorie he was too well dressed 1 Hv I j to touch either and left the house. B > I Though he had said nothing , Mar- B f ' jorie was certain from his dress and 1 B I mysterious manner that it was no or- | L' 1 tiinary work that had called him ' B j away that morning , and as she Bf ' thought of the strange , cold way he B j had left her , her eyes filled with R 1 Suddenly there was a knock at the | Bf oor. Hastily brushing away hsr Bi tears , Marjorie cried "Entrez , " and tl.e BIB door opened , admitting a woman , none BaB other than Adele of tne Moucne d'0r- H [ B i Of all the women of Caussidiere's ' Bh9 acquaintance , this was the one whom HBB ' Marjorie most wished to avoid. She V B was half afraid of Adele , since she had Bl heard her singing M on one occasion one HpX I of ijer songs in a cafe crowded with H19 men # Marjorie's strict Scotch train- Kflf f Ing made her shrink from commun- B B Ion with such a woman. When she B saw Adele's face , therefore , she felt B troubled , and demanded rather coldly BlB ' what she sought. r i * I seek Caussidiere , " returned Adele. "Is he at home ? " "No , " returned Marjorie , quietly , | 'he has gone out. " She thought this answer was con- elusive and expected to see Adele dis- V | appear , but she was disappointed. She B B -came in , closing the door behind her , B K walked over to little Leon , and patted B' H b.im on the head. B H Leon gazed up and smiled ; he had B B o * ear of lier ; but Marjorie made a B B movement as if to protect him from B B hcr touch. m B _ s Marjorie came forward , Adele B B | .y. looked up from the boy's curly head I , B BBI ' and asked , almost roughly : B K f " " "Whers is Caussidiere , did you say ? " BiFnBli "I do not know " returned Marjorie , B fBi drawing the boy toward her ; "he did Bf ' T' not tell me. k a " * He ppems to tell you very little , B * 1 about himself , madame , " said Adele , Brl fixing her eyes strangely upon her s < B " companion's face ; then she added lr Br [ ' suddenly. "Why do you draw the boy BJyfi 1 away from me ? " m ] Marjorie' did not answer , so , with a B B B B BB : Bi short , hard laugh , the girl con tinued : "I suppose you think , madame , that I am not fit to touch him ? Well , perhaps - haps you are right. " "I did not mean that , " returned Marjorie - jorie , gently. "If I kissed the little one , would you be angry ? " cried Adele , with a curious change of manner. "Ah , madame , I am bad enough , but not quite so bad as you think me. I love little chila dren. I once had a little boy like this of my own. " "A little boy ! Then you are married - ried ; you have a husband " "When my child was only a baby , before I he could walk or speak , " continued - tinued Adele , not heeding the question - tion , "I I lost him. I do not even know if he i3 alive or dead. " And she lifted little Leon in her , arms , and kissed him wildly. Marjorie's gentle heart was touched. "You lost your child ? " she cried , full of sympathy. "Ho was taken from me , madame. I ; was too poor to keep him , and one 1 night : one cold winter night his i father placed him in the basket at the s Foundling. I have never seen him 1 since never ! " "How wicked of you. ; how cruel ! To 1 desert your child ! " "You do not understand. In France it is the custom when folk are poor. " Marjorie shrank from the woman in l horror. ] All her maternal heart was in L revolt , and with an impulsive gesture she drew little Leon to her and embraced - braced him tenderly. Adele looked at the pair with a strange i expression of mingled sorrow and i pity. "And your husband , madame ? " she asked ; , suddenly. "Is he good to you ; ? " "Yes. Why do you ask ? " says Mar jorie , in surprise. "Never mind , " returned Adele , with her old laugh. "For myself , I think that all men are canaille. It is we others ' , we women , who bear the burden - den while the men amuse themselves. Why does Caussidiere leave you so much alone ? Why does he dress so well , and leave you and the little one so • shabby ? Ah , he is like all the rest ! " "What my husband docs , " cried , Marjorie , indignantly , "is no concern of yours. I will not hear you say a word against him ! " Adele laughed again. "You are only a child. " she said , moving to the door. "Will you give Monsieur Caussidiere a message from me ? " "Yes , if you wish. " "Tell him he is wanted tomorrow at our place ; he will understand. " She half opened the door.then turned and looked back. "Do you know , madame , that in a few days the Germans will be before Paris ? " "Ah , yes ! " "Let them hasten ! I hope they will come soon. I shall not be sorry for one , if they burn Paris to the ground ! " "Why do you say that ? " cried Marjorie - jorie , shocked at the speaker's tones as well as the words , "Let them burn Paris , and me with the rest of the people ; it will be well ! " ' said Adele , in a low voice , very bitter- ly. "The bonfire is ripe , madame I Eut , " she added , "I should be sorry if any harm came to you or to the child. Some day , perhaps who knows ? I may be able to serve you. Will you remember that ? " "What do you mean ? " exclaimed Marjorie. "You are a strange woman ; " you "I am what I am ; sometimes I think ! I am a devil , not a woman at all. ! Good-by. " And without another word she dis- ; appeared , leaving Marjorie lost in : wonder at the extraordinary interview between them. . CHAPTER XXVI. yj N leaving Marjo- /fiLAo Tvh.rJe that day and Iff M ? ) } ) coming into the ffiffjISlllis' street , Caussidiere l Sr walked along rapid- < &gjpji ly in the direction § ® ° * * e boulevards. : fi Jz&&K ! J He bummed a light iSrtlr" * air as he went.and * N $ held up his beacl with that self-sat ; isfaction only felt by the x man who has money in his pocket. Indeed , the receipt of Miss Hetherington's draft had taken a weight off his mind , as he had an ap 1- pointment that evening with an in- dividual whose tastes were expensive like his own. His business during the day does not concern us , but when it was evening , and the lights were lit , the cafes thronged , the footpaths full of people coming and going , he reappeared in the center of the city. Lighting a cigar [ - gar , he strolled up and down ; paused at a kiosk and bought a newspaper ; then , approaching the front of one of > the great cafes , found a vacant seat at a tftble , ordered some coffee , and sat down in the open air watching the lrbusy throng. He was sitting thus when his atten- tention'was' attracted to a figure stand- [ ing close'by himIt was that of a / young man dresced carelessly in a tweed suit and wearing a wideawako bat. Ho was standing in the light of ono of the windows , talking to another - other man , somewhat his senior , whom he had just met. Caussidiere caught a portion of their conversation. "And hoe lang hae ye been in Par is ? " asked the elder man. "All the summer , " replied the oth er. "I came here to study and paint , and I have been doing very well. How are all in Anuandale ? " "Brawly , brawly. Where are you staying ? " Caussidiere did not catch the reply , and the two men moved away with the crowd ; but he had recognized , at a glance , in the younger of the interlocutors - locutors 1 , an old friend John Suther- land. 1 "Diable ! " he muttered. "What has brought him to Paris ? I must take care that he and Marjorie do not meet. " He rose , paid for his refreshment , and walked away. It was now 8 o'clock. Hailing a fiacre , he jumped in J , and ordered the coachman to drive to the theater du Chatelet. Alighting at the door , Caussidiere strolled into the vestibule , and paid for a seat in one of the balcony boxes. He found the vast place thronged from floor I to ceiling to witness the performance - formance of a fairy spectacle , then in its 5 100th night , the "Sept Filles du Di- able , " founded on some fanciful east ern story. It wa3 a tawdry piece.with innumerable ' ballets , processions , pageants - geants I , varied with certain scenes of horse-play 1 , in which a corpulent low comedian , a great popular favorite.was conspicuous. Caussidiere was charmed , concentrating his admiring eyes par- ticularly < on one black-eyed , thickly9 painted 1 lady , who personated a fairy prince 1 and sang "risky" songs , with topical * allusions and dancing accompaniments - paniments 1 , in a very high shrill voice , to * the great rapture of the assembled Parisians. At the end of the third act ' Caussidiere left his seat and strolled ' round to the back of the thea < tcr- ' ' " CHAPTER XXVII. vs = s ASSING the Cerbe- ' llf H9l rus of tlle stagc jj door by w'hom he ' seemed to be well known , Caussi- diere soon found himself "behind the scenes , " and pushed his way through a confused throng of supernuc meraries , figuran- tes and stage carpenters till he reached the 1 greenroom. Here he found many of the performt ers lounging about and standing in the center of the floor. Dressed in a turban - ban and sultan's robes , and surrounded - ed by a group of ladies in all kinds of scanty costumes , was the obese low comedian as loud voiced , low-fore- headed a satyr of a man as could be found in the theatrical profession , even in Paris. As Caussidiere appeared , the actor greeted him by name with a loud laugh. "Welcome , mon enfant , welcome , " he cried , shaking hands. "The Germans are approaching , yet behold we sui' vive ! " The ladies now turned to Caussidiere , who greeted them by their Christian names Blanche , Rose , Ada , Adele , Sarah , and so on. He seemed to know them well , but , as he talked to them , looked round impatiently for some perj son who was not present. ( TO BE CONTINUED. ) KE WAS JUSTLY DEFEATED. Came YVitliln Four Inches of Being a Millionaire. "I'm not going to give names , but you all know that I have no imagina1 tion that can invent fairy tales. I lit- erally came within four inches of be- ing a millionaire. " "Go on ! " exclaimed the man at the club who is the recognized story promoter meter in the organization , says the De- troit Free Press. "I'm telling you right. Some years ago I secured employment in an im- mense factory that turns out a certain chemical basic used the world over , and as staple as wheat. It was a rule of the establishment that a good man could stay as long as he wanted to in one department , but under no circumstances - stances could he go from one department - ment to another. Every possible precaution - caution was taken against the discovery - ery of the secret process. By a serie3 of studied disguises I succeeded in find- ing employment in every department : but one , and that being where the col- oring was done I thought this omis- sion of rery little importance. By standing in with one of the office men I succeeded iu. tracing the parts entering into the principal machines. This was • no small job , for there would be one 1 piece made in Portland , Me. , andother in San Francisco , another In Dallas , and another would be imported. I went ; everywhere and mastered the machin- ery. Then upon a guarantee that I had 1secured the process I interested capi- ltal. . When we anxiously analyzed re- suits we found that the stuff was all right except in color. Then I grew des- [ perate and determined to dig my way into the coloring department of the , parent institution. Just as I began [ work on a four-inch partition I was I discovered , and incontinently tossed from a second-story window. We found I it impossible to master the trick of coloring - oring , and all we had to show for half a million invested was a lot of empty buildings and smokeless stacks. I've concluded since that I got just what I deserved. " Sales of land along' the Northern Pacific - cific and Great vNorthern railways ara 1 reported larger than in many years. TAMAGE'S J SERMON. . "GOOD AND BAD CLUB HOUSES" THE TEXT. from ibo Text : II. Siminul , II. : 14 , as Follows : "I.ct the Vounc M011 Now Arlic antl Fluy lief ore U " Uulgu or Imperial Uohauchery Is Here. Washington , January D , 1S98 This discourse of Dr. Talmage will be helpb ful to those who want to find place3 with healthful' and improving surfj roundings , and to avoid places delea terious. ( His text is ii. Sam. 2 : 14 : Let the young men now arise and play bed forp us. At this season of the year the clubhouses - houses of our towns and cltie3 are in full ' play. I have found out that there is i : a legitimate and an illegitimate use of the club-house. In the one case it may become a healthful recreation , like the contest of the twenty-four men in * i the text when they began their play ; in i ] the other case it becomes the mas-v sacre of body , mind and soul , as in the case of these contestants of the text when they had gone too far with their sport. All intelligent ages have had their gatherings for political , social , artistic , literary purposes gatherings characterized by the blunt old Anglo0 Saxon designation of "club. " If you have read history you know that . there was a King's Head Club , a Ben Johnson Club , a Brothers' Club , to which Swift and Bolingbroke belonged - longed ; a Literary Club , which Burke and Goldsmith and Johnson and Bos- well made immortal ; a Jacobin Club , a Benjamin Franklin Junto Club. Some of these to indicate justice , some to favor tne arts , some .to promote good manners , some to despoil the habits , ; some to destroy the soul. If one will write an honest history of the clubs of England , Ireland , Scotland , France and the United States for the last one hundred years , he will write the hist tory of the world. The club was an . institution born on English soU but it has thrived well in American atmos- phere. Who shall tell how many belong - [ long to that kind of club where men put purses together and open house , apportioning the expense of caterer and servants and room , and having a sort of domestic establishment a style of club-house which in my opinion is . far better than the ordinary Hotel or boarding-house. But my object now is to speak of club-houses of a differt ent sort , such as the Cosmos , or Chevy Chase , or Lincoln Clubs of this Capital , or the "Union Leagues" of many cities , the United Service Club of London , the Lotos of New York , where journalists , dramatists , sculptors , painters and artists - tists , from all branches , gather together - er to discuss newspapers , theaters and elaborate art ; like the Americus , which camps out in summer time , dimpling the pool with its hook and arousing the forest with its stag hunt ; like the Century Club , which has its large j group of venerable lawyers and poets ; like the Army and Navy Club , where those who engaged in war-like service once on the land or the sea now come together to talk over the days of carnage ; like the New York Yacht Club , with its floating palaces of beauty upholstered with velvet and paneled with ebony , having all the advantages - vantages of electric bell , and of gaslight - light , and of king's pantry , one pleasure - ure boat costing three thousand , another - other fifteen thousand , another thirty thousand , another sixty-five thousand dollars , the fleet of pleasure boats belonging - longing to the club having cost over two million dollars ; like the American Jockey Club , to which belong men who have a passionate fondness for horses , fine horses , as had Job when , in the Scriptures , he gives us a sketch of that king of beasts , the arch of its neck , the nervousness of its foot , the majesty of its gait , the whirlwind of its power , crying out : "Hast thou clothed his neck with thunder ? The glory of his nostrils is terrible ; he paweth in the valley and rejoiceth in his strength ; J he saith among the trumpets ha ! ha ! and he snielleth the battle afar off , the thunder of the captains , and the shouting - ing ; " like the Travelers' Club , the , Blossom Club , the Palette Club , the . Commercial CIud , the Liberal Club , the Stable Gang Club , the Amateur Boat Club , the gambling clubs , the wine clubs , the clubs of all sizes , the clubs of all morals , clubs as good as can be , and clubs as bad as bad can be , clubs innumerable. j During the day they are comparatively lazy places. Here and there an aged man reading a newspaper - per , or an employe dusting a sofa , or a clerk writing up the accounts ; but when the curtain of the night falls on the \ natural day , when the curtain of the club-house hoists for the entertain- ment. Let us hasten up , now , the marble - ble 1 stairs. What an imperial .hallway ! See j ! here are parlors on the side , with the t upholstery of'the Kremlin and the ' Tuilleries ; and here are dining halls ' that t challenge you to mention any luxury - I ury that they cannot afford ; and here 1 are galleries with sculpture , and paintings - ings i , and lithographs , and drawings from i the best of artists , Cropsey , and Bierstadt 3 , and Church , and Hart , and Gifford < pictures for every mood , whether you are impassioned or plac [ id j ; shipwreck , or sunlight over the . sea ; Sheridan's Ride , or the noonday . party 1 of the farmers under the trees ; ! foaming | deer pursued by the hounds in j the Adirondacks , or the sheep on L the \ lawn. On this side there are read ing ' rooms where you find all newspa- pers ] and magazines. On that side there : is a library , where you find all books , from hermeneutics to the fairy tale. Coming ' in and out there are gentlemen - men , some of whom stay ten minutes , others ' stay many hours. Some of C these are from luxuriant homes , and I they have excused themselves for a while from the domestic circle that t they may enjoy the larger sociability of the club-house. These are from dismembered households , and they have a plain lodging somewhere , but they come to this club room to have their ] chief enjoyment. One black ball amid ten votes will defeat a man's befc coming a member. For rowdyism , for Cia drunkenness , for gambling , for any kind | of misdemeanor , a member is dropped out. Brilliant club-house from top to bottom. The chandeliers , . . the plate , the furniture , the companionship - ionship , the literature , the social prosfc tige ] , a complete enchantment. But the evening is passing on , and so wo hasten through the hall and down the steps and into the street , and from block to block until we come to another style of club-house. Opening the door , we find the fumes of strong drink and tobacco something almost Intolerable. These young men at this table , it is easy to understand what they are at , from the flushed check , the intent look , the almost angry way of tossing the dice , or of moving the "chips. " They are gambling. At an- other table are men who are telling vile stories. They are three-fourths intoxicated : , and between twelve and one o'clock they will go staggering , hooting , swearing , shouting on their way home. That is an-only son. On him all kindness , all care , all culture , has been bestowed. Ho Is paying his parents In this way for their kindness , That is a young married man , who , only a few months ago , at the altar , made promises of kindness and fidels ity , every one of which he has broken , Walk through and see for yourself. Here are all the implements of dissci ! pation and of quick death. As the hours of the night go away , the contl versation becomes imbecile and more debasing. Now it is time to sHut up. Those who are able to stand will get out on the pavement and balance themselves against the lamp-post , or against the railings of the fence. The young man who is not able to stand will have a bed improvised for hifn in the club-house , or two not quite so overcome with liquor will conduct him to his father's house , and they will ring the door-bell , and the door will open , and the two imbecile escorts will introduce into the hallway the ghastliest and most hellish spectacle that ever enters a front door a drunken - en son. If tue dissipting club-houses of this country would make a contract with the Inferno to provide it ten thousand men a year , and for twenty years , on the condition that no more should be asked of them , the clubhouses - houses could afford to make that contract - tract , for they would save homesteads , save fortunes , save bodies , mind3 and souls. The ten thousand men who would , be sacrificed by that contract would be but a small part of the mul- titude sacrificed without the contract. But I make a vast difference between clubs. I have belonged to four clubs : A theological club , a ball club and two literary clubs. I got from them physical - ical rejuvenation and moral health. What shall be the principle ? If God will help me , I will lay down three principles j by which you may juuge whether the club where you are a member , or the club to which you have been 1 invited , is a legitimate or an ills- gitimate club house. First of all , I want you to test the club by its influences on home , if you have \ a home. I have been told by a prominent gentleman in club life that three-fourths \ of the members of the great clubs of these cities are married men. That wife soon loses her influa ence over her husband who nervously and foolishly looks upon all evening absence as an assault on domesticity , How are the great enterprises of art and literature and beneficence and public weal to be carried on if every man is to have his world bounded on one side by his front door-step , and on the t other side by his back window , knowing nothing higher than his Own attic , or nothing lower than his own cellar ? That wife who becomes jealous - ous of her husband's attention to art , or literature , or religion , or charity , is breaking her own sceptre of conjugal power. I know an instance where a wife thought that her husband was giving too many nights to Christian service , to charitable service , to prayer - er meetings , and to religious convoca- - tion. She systematically decoyed him , until now he attends away no church , and is on a rapid way to destruction , his morals gone , his money gone , and , I fear , his soul gone. Let any Christian wife , rejoice when her husband consecrates - crates evenings to the service of God , or to charity , or to art , or to anything elevated ; but let not men sacrifice home j life to club life. I can point out to \ you a great many names of men who are guilty of this saca rilege. They are as genial as angels at the club house , and as ugly as sin at home. They are genc erous on all subjects of wine suppers , . 3Tachts , and fast horses , but they are stingy about the wife's dress and the children's J shoes. That man has made that { which might be a healthful recreaj tion i an usurper of his affections , and he has married it , and he is guilty of moral bigamy. Under this process the wife , whatever her features , becomes uninteresting and homely. He becomes critical of her , does not like the dress , does ! not like the way she arranges her hair , is amazed that he ever was so unromantic - romantic : as to offer her hand and heart. She is always wanting money , money ] , when she ought to be discuss- ing ' eclipses , and Dexter , and Derby day ' , and English drags with six horses I tell you , there are thousands of houses ] in the cities being clubbed to 1 death 1 ! There are club houses where membership i always involves domestic shipwreck. ' Tell me that a man has ; joined a certain club , tell me nothing ; more about him for ten years , and I will write his history if he be still alive. The man is a wine guzzler , his : ] wife broken-hearted or prematurely old 1 , his fortune gone or reduced , and his home a mere name in a directory. < Here : are six secular nights in the week. "What shall I do with them ? " says B < tH B fi B /-fB the father nnd the husband. "I will. # B give four of those nights to the 1m- | B provement and entertainment of my l B family , cither at home or in good ' ' - ' B neighborhood ; I will devote ono to / | B chnrltablo institutions ; I will devote ' ' M ono to the club. " I congratulate you. < , M Hero Is a man who suyB , "I will make a different division of the six nlghtu. ' I will take thrco for the club nnd three H for other purposes. " I tremble. Hero M la a man who says , "Out of the nix secular - M ular nighta of the week , I will devote five to the club house and one to the M home , which night I will spend in H scowling like a March squall , wishing M I was out spending It as I had spent the 1 other five. " That man' s obituary is H written. Not ono out of ten thousand 1 that over gets so far on the wrong M road < over stops. Gradually his health M will fail , through late hours and 1 through too much stimulus. He will M bo first-rate prey for erysipelas and fl rheumatism of the heart. The doctor M coming < in will at a glance sco it Is not H only : present dlseaso ho must fight , but H years < of fast living. The clergyman.for M the sake of the feelings of the family. M on ; the funeral day , will only talk In M religious generalities. The men who H got < his yacht In the eternal rapids will j B not bo at the obsequies. They will m have pressing engagements that day. * 9 B They will send flowers to the coflln lid. l B and : send their wives to utter words of f B sympathy : , but they will have engage- 9 | ments elsewhere. Thny never come. f B Bring me mallet and chisel , and I will f H cut on the tombstone that man's epl- t | | taph , 'Blessed are the dead who die in 1 1 the Lord. " "No , " you say , "that would a M not be appropriate. " "Let me die the m | death of the righteous , and let my last 3 | end : be like his. " "No , " you say , "that | H would not be appropriate. " Then give f | mo the mallet and chisel , and I will I | cut an honest epitaph : "Hero lies the f | victim of a dissipating club house ! " I rf l think ] that damage Is often done by the | scions ( of some aristocratic family , who ' BB belong to one of these dissipating club H houses. People coming up from hum- | H bier classes feci it an honor to belong H to | the same club , forgetting the fact H that many of the sons and grandsons H of the large commercial establishments H of the last generation are now , as to H mind , imbecile ; a3 to body , diseased ; as H to morals , rotten. They would have got H through their property long ago if they M had full possession of it : but the wily M ancestors , who earned the money by H hard knocks , foresaw how it was to be. H and they tied up everything in the will. H Now , there is nothing of that unworthy M descendant : but his grandfather's name , > M and roast beef rotundity. And yet how i M many steamers there are which feel J H honored to lash fast that worm-eaten M tug . , though it drags them straight into ft H the breakers. \ H Oh , my heart aches ! I see men struggling - M gling against evil habits , and they want H help. ' I have knelt beside them , and r H have heard them cry for help , and j H then we have risen , and he has put one M hand on my right shoulder , and the ' B V/ / other hand on my left shoulder , and M w looked ' into my face with an infinity of * B earnestness which the judgment day / H will have no power to make me forget , .s fl as he cried out with his lips scorched in M ruin , "God help me ! " For such there is H no help except in the Lord God Al- M mighty. I am going to make a very M stout rope. You know that sometimes H a rope maker will take very small H threads and wind them together until j fl after a while they become ship cable. ' ' " B And ! I am going to take some very * - H small , delicate threads , and wind them H together until they make a very stout H rope. I will take all the memories of H the marriage day , a thread of laughter , j H a thread of light , a thread of music , a H thread of banqueting , a thread of congratulation - H gratulation , and I twist them together. H and I have one strand. Then I take a H thread of the hour of the first advent in M your house , a thread of the darkness J M that preceded , and a thread of the light H that followed , and a thread of the beautiful - H tiful scarf that little child used to wear H when she bounded out at eventide to H greet you , and then a thread of the H beautiful dress in which you laid her H away for the resurrection. And then I H twist all these threads together , and I B have another strand. Then I take a t : ? 2 H thread of the scarlet robe of a suffering - H ing : Christ , and a thread of the white H raiment of your loved ones before the H throne , and a string of the harp cherubic - M bic , and a string of the harp seraphic , M and I twist them all together , and I M have a third strand. "Oh ! " you say. M "either strand is strong enough to hold M fast a world. " No. I will take these M strands , and I will twist them together. M I will fasten. M and one end of that rope not to the communion table , for it shall M be removed not to the pillar of the B organ , for that will crumble in the M ages , but I wind it 'round and 'round H the cross of a sympathizing Christ , and B having fastened one end of the rope to the cross , I throw the other end to you. H Lay hold of it ! Pull for your life ! Pull H for heaven ! H The Laplanders. M The Laplanders inhabit the north- j H ernmost coasts of the Scandinavian H peninsula. "They are ignorant , uncultivated - M tivated , and torpid , rather savage , " H says a recent English traveler. "In M spite j of their frequent contact with the H j Russians and the Swedes , they have no H industrial j resources , no art , no other M j commerce than that which is afforded Jj B by j the products of the chase , or their H fisheries j , or their heads of reindeer. B 0 Christianity ( , to which they were con- 'IjB I verted about two centuries ago , has ' I B not j aroused them as yet from their B B moral ] and intellectual lethargy. All H religion ] being reduced , so far as they H are ; concerned , to oral tradition , the H devotion < of each is in proportion to H his memory. Education among them H has ] attained to this standard that a H Laplander who knows his alphabet H corresponds to a young man among us H who has graduated at Oxford or Cam- H bridge. " H HM