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About The McCook tribune. (McCook, Neb.) 1886-1936 | View Entire Issue (Feb. 18, 1898)
\ iumt JL , / ' jiftw > ii m XW \ XllPlJ H 1 # INTERNATIONAL PRESS ASSOCIATION. , H HJ N > . CHAPTER XXXIL ( Continued. ) Bp fy They passed through London and at Bvt 'ast reaclie(1 Paris. B W 0tl arrIvinS &t the station , Suther- B j\ \ land called up a fly , and ordered it to Km C \ drive with the greatest possible speed to tIlc Hotel Suisse , a quiet establish- m m m mm \ H 1ij meat close to the boulevards. Ones H M there , he ordered a private room , con- mmWmmS W ducted Miss Hetherington to it , and H | \ proposed that she should wait there B\ while he went in search of Marjorie. * H jf . § At first she rebelled , but she yielded H B I 1 at , ast- H I \ "Yes , I will wait , " she said. "I am B I • recble , as you say , Johnnie Sutherland , B \ i mid not fit t0 face tlie fos and snow ; H v I but you'll bring the bairn to me , for * * cannot wait long ! " H Ji ? ' Eagerly giving his promise , Suther- Hflr rap- land started off , and the old lady , un- * HB able to master her excitement , walked BX \ feebly about the room , preparing for \ ' ( llle aPPcarance of her child. v - ' H f She had the fire piled up ; she had H the ta)1 , ° lailcnel with food ani wine ; II H \ X then she took her stand by the win- j B yw dow , and eagerly suanned the face of H 2 , m every passer-by. At length , and after H B r M what seemed to her to be hcriirs of ag- 1 W ony , Sutherland returned. HI & lie was HI " "The bairn ; the bairn ! " she cried , B j W tottering toward him. BBu 1 r-\ He made one Quick step toward her , H ISW and caught her in his arms as he rc- B V > H 1 Ft "Dear Miss Hetherington , she has H " gone ! " B A J fe" For a moment she did not seem able H J " J to understand him ; she stared at him H I 1 blankly and repeated : B I 1 "Gone ! where is she gone ? " H S "I do not know ; several weeks ago BB X she left this place with her child , and HB she has not been seen since. " I Hfl w The old woman's agony war pitiful fl to see ; she moaned , and with her trem- HhW J bling fingers clutched her thin hair. H "Gone ! " she moaned. "Ah , my God , H U s I she is in the streets , she is starving ! " 1 H i Suddenly a new resolution came to H 6 I her with an effort she pulled herself H U I together. She wrapped her heavy fur J § | S -cloak around her and moved toward J If fi the door. Bj | I "Where arc you going ? " demanded i I Sutherland. B Slle turned round upon him with liv- % H I Id and death-like face. H K IT' "Going ! " she repeated , in a terrible H y I voice. "I am going to him ! to the B K \ -villain who first learned my secret and B " " stole my bairn awa' ! " B B K I V Miss Hetherington spoke firmly , 1 * J .showing as much bj hers manner as B m \ " 'm 'by-her speech that her determination B / was fixed- Sutherland therefore made m f j P no attempt to oppose her ; but he called H v j M up a fly , and the two drove to the W L * ' } ra lodging ? which had been formerly oc- m F S -JBupie oy Marjorie and Caussidiere. k/ / m To Sutherland's dismay , the rooms Mi JH were empty , Caussidiere having disap- HB T a ? pearcd and left no trace behind him. 1H Per a moment he was at a loss what to I do. I - Suddenly he remembered A Jele , and % resolved to seek assistance from her. M Yet here- again he was at a loss. It B . would be all very well for him to seek ,1 out Adele at the cafe , but to take Miss Hetherington there was another -matter. He therefore asked her to return - turn to the hotel and wait quietly there I while he continued the search. ; . This she positively refused to do. ! f\ < "Come av/a' , Johnnie Sutherland. " M she said , "and take me with you. If I'm a woman I'm an eld one , and no 5L matter where I gang I mean to And my a ' At seven o'clock that night the cafe j | was brilliantly lit and crowded with a TO ? roisterous company. Adele , flushed V • and triumphant , having sang one of licr most popular songs , was astonished J { to see a man beckoning to her from g - • the audience. Looking again , she saw W ' that the man was none other than the V I ir young artist Sutherland. L E m i \ Descending from her rostruia , she ea- * W > i * Ji • " scrly went forward to join him , and m wmr the two passed out of the cafe and ff m M jL stood confronting each othe7 in the street. ' Hv mmm 8 V "Adele. " said Sutherland , eagerly , B B jk \ eei/.ing her hands , "where is that man M * l V JF Caussidiere ? " B ' % , - 'Causs. ? diere ? " she repeated , staring B I m n at him in seeming amazement. a\ "Yes , Caussidiere ! Tell me where he ai mm H\i Mm ls > forGodssake ! " H mm MfH Again Adele hesitated something Isfl 1ia'l ' happened , of that she felt sure , for I % B the man who now stood before her was iJM certainly not the Sutherland of other ' | w days : there was a look in his eyes I -which had never been there before. Ill "Monsieur , " she said gently , "tell me B fl "first where is madame , his wife ? " BBS "God knows ! I want to find her. I BIB - have come to Paris with her mother V IH to force that villain to give her up. M IB Adele , if you do not know her where- K 1H ahouts , tell me where he is. " B BH y She hesitated for a moment , then B BflW drew from her pocket a piece of paper , gm SK fccribbled something on it in pencil , and n flW pressed it into Sutherland's hand. ' BbBB "Ss "Monsieur , " she -hispered , "if you | B" " Kf „ find her I I may see her ? once only I k * J v • " ouce again ? " S WW % J - "Yes. " -1 "Qod bless you. monsieur ! " ! - Witr UkB Sne seized his hand and eagerly press- ! % e(1 ( [ t to her lips' then' hastily brusn- L af B Jt\ ins away " a tear , she " re-entered the l.m\ cafe , and was soon "delighting her LwM 1Bm # coa/ a admirers wit- ; another song. VMVMVs * B BBt * m - - - - - BV. w\ - - - i i iTi nri > < S7ilTri T 1T w p % yfmim ill [ 1 Sutherland had been too much car ried away by the work he had in hand to notice Adele's emotion. lie opened the paper she had given him , and read the address by the aid of the street lamp ; then ho returned to the fly , which stood waiting for him at the curbstone. He gave his directions to the driver , then entered the vehicle ; taking his seat beside Miss Hethering ton , who sat there like a statue. The vehicle drpve off through a ae ries of well-populated streets , then it stopped. Sutherland leaped out , and to his confusion Miss Hetherington rose to follow him. He made no attempt to oppose her , knowing well that an/ such attempt would be useless. So the two went together up a dark ened court , and paused before a door. In answer to Sutherland's knock a lit tle maid appeared , and he inquired in as firm a voice as he could command for Monsieur Caussidiere. Yes , Monsieur Caussidiere was at home , she said , and if the gentleman would give his name she would take itbut ; this Sutherland could not do. He slipped a napoleon into the girl's hand , and after a momentary hesita tion she showed the two into the very roqm where the Frenchman sat. He was dressed not in his usual dan dified fashion , but in a seedy morning coat ; his face looked haggard. Ho was seated at .a table with piles of paper before him. He looked up quietly when the door opened ; thsrf seeing Miss Hetherington , who had been the • first to enter the room , he started to his feet. "Madame ! " he exclaimed in French , "or shall I say Mademoiselle Hether ington ? " "Yes , " she returned quietly , in the same tongue , "Miss Hetherington. I have come to you , villain that you are , for my child ! " "Your child ? " "Ay , my daughter , my Marjorie ! Where is she , tell me ? " By this time Caussidiere had recov ered from his surprise. He was still rather frightened , but he conquered himself sufficiently to shrug his shoul ders , sneer and reply : "Really , madame , cr mademoiselle , your violence is unnecessary. I know nothing of your daughter ; she left me of her own free will , and I request yen to leave my house. " But the old lady stood firm. "I will not stir , " she exclaimed , "un til I have my Marjorie. You took her from her home , and brought , her here. What have you done with her ? If harm has come to her through you , look to yourself. " The Frenchman's face grew livid ; he made one step toward her , then he drew back. "Leave my house , " he said , pointing to the door ; "the person of whom you speak is nothing to me. " "It is false ; she is your wife. " "She is not my wife ! she was my mistress , nothing more ! " Scarcely had the words passed his lips when the Frenchman felt himself seized by the throat , and violently hurled upon the ground. He leaped to his feet again , and once more felt Sutherland's hard hands gripping his throat. "Coward as well as liar , " cried \ the young Scotchman ; "retract what you have said , or , by God ! I'll strangle you ! " The Frenchman said nothing , but he struggled hard to free himself from the other's fierce clutch , while Miss Heth erington stood grimly looking on. Presently Caussidiere shook himself free , and sank exhausted into a chair. "You villain ! " he hissed ; "you shall suffer for this. I will seek police pro tection. I will have you cast into prison. Yes , you shall utterly rue the day when you dared to lay a finger upon me. " But Sutherland paid no heed. Find ing that in reality Caussidiere knew as little of Marjorie's whereabouts as he knew himself , he at last persuaded Miss Hetherington to leave the place. They drove to the prefect of polire to set some inquiries on foot ; then tbey went back to the cafe to make further inquiries'of Adele. On one thing they were determined , not to rest night or 'py u itil they had found Marjorie alive or dead. CHAPTER XXXIII. Miss Hether- intgon was hastening - ing to confront Caussidiere , Marjo rie , with her child , was walking weari- , 1 y through the streets of Paris. As the daylight ' faded away the cold x = - * had increased ; the snow was falling heavily , soaking her through and through. Suddenly she remembered what the milk-woman had told her ; she would go to the English ambassador perhaps he would give her relief and enable her to get home. She paused once or twice to ask her way , but she could get no answer. She was nothing more than a street waif , and was accordingly thrust aside as such. At last a little gamin gave her the information she asked. The place she sought was three miles off. Three miles ! She was footsore and . . . . * Ty/ftrf * lHriaB _ h L .j , mi , ! ! , ! . . < , „ Kr faint ; she had not a au in her pocket ; aud her child was fainting with cold and hunger. It seemed to her that her last hope had gone. Then she suddenly remembered that a certain Miss Dove , -wealthy Eng lish woman , had founded a home in Paris for her destitute countrywomen She know the address , it was nearer than the British Embassy. She drag ged herself and child to It. She had just sufficient strength left to ring the bell , when she sank fainting on the threshold of the door. When Marjorie again opened her eyes she was lying in a strange bed , and a lady with a pale , grave face was still bending above her. "Where am I ? " she cried , starting up ; and then she looked around for her child. A cold hand was laid upon her fever ishly burning forehead , and she was gently laid back upon her pillow. "The child is quite safe , " said a low , sweet voice. "Wo have put him in a cot , and he is sleeping ; try to sleep , too , and when you waken you will be stronger , and you shall have the little boy. " Marjorie closed her eyes and moaned , and soon fell into a heavy , feverish sleep. Having seized her system , the fever kept its burning hold , and for many days the mistress of the house thought that Marjorie would die ; but fortunate ly her constitution was strong ; she passed through the ordeal , and one day she opened her eyes on what seemed to her a new world. For a time she lay quietly lookin ? about her , without a movement aru without a word. The room in which she lay was small , but prettily fitted up. There were crucifixes on the wall , and dimity curtains to the bed and the windows ; through the diamond pan- the sun was faintly shining ; a cozy rire filled the grate ; on the hearth cat & woman , evidently a nurse ; while on the hearth-rug was little Leon , quiet as a mouse , and with his lap full cf toys. It was so dreamy and so peaceful that she could just hear the murmur ci life outside , and the faint crackling of the fire on the hearth that was all. She lay for a time watching the two figures as in a vision ; then the mem ory of all that had passed came back upon her , and she sobbed. In a mo ment the woman rose and came ov. . . to her , while little Leon ran to th * bedside , and took her thin , white hand. "Mamma , " he said , "don't cry ! " For in spite of herself Marjorie feK the tears coursing down her cheeks. The nurse said nothing. She smoothed back the hair from her forehead , and quietly waited until the invalid's griei had passed away. Then she said gently : "Do not grieve , madam. The worst of your illness is over. You will soon be well. " "Have I been very ill ? " asked Mar jorie , faintly. "Yes , very ill. We thought that you would die. " "And you have nursed me you have saved me ? Oh ! you are very good ! Who who are you where am I ? " "You are amongst friends. This house is the home of every one who needs a home. It belongs to Miss Es ther Dove. It was she who found you fainting on our door-step , and took you in. When you fell into a fever she gave you into my charge. I am one of the nurses. " She added , quietly : "There , do not ask me more ques tions , for you are weak , and must be very careful. Take this , and then , if you will promise to soothe yourself , the little boy shall stay beside you while you sleep. " Marjorie took the food that was of fered * to her , and gave the promise re quired. Indeed , she felt too weak to talk. ( TO BE CONTINUED. ) NAVAL BURIALS. Kesttlatloas Kequiro That Christian la * torment JJo 1'rovlclcd. The chaplain's official station in most ship ceremonies aud in time of battle is at the sick bay , where lie the sick , says Donahoe's. Discipline and fresh air are wonderful preservatives of health , and a chaplain's duties to the sick in times of peace are very light. At naval hospitals , however , whither are brought from the ships the very sick and the seriously wounded , o chaplain finds ample field for the exer cise of that tender sympathy which wins souls to God and for the minister ing of the consolation of religion. It is also the duty of the chaplain to as sist at naval burials. The regulati-'M ' require that Christian burial be pi ovi * ed for all men who die in the servios. If possible , the body is interred with the rites of the church to which the deceased had belonged. When this sad duty is required at sea the ship is hove to , the flag displayed at half mast , and the officers and men are mustered on deck' to pay their last tribute to the departed. The funeral services follow and the body is then consigned to the deep. A guard of honor fires three volleys over the watery grave and the bugler sounds the last "taps" sad , mournful notes of the bugle which tell of the hour of sleep. If the death oc curs at a hospital , an escort and p. gu.\rd of honor from the ship to which the deceased had been attached ac company the funeral cortege to the grave. As the procession enters the cemetery the bugler proceeds , followed by the chaplain. This spectacle is al ways impressive. It naturally suggests the prayer that angels , led by the angel guardian , may bear the soul of the de ceased before the throne of God as friends bear the body to the grave ; that the acgel , at the judgment seat , may proclaim welcome , joy and glad ness as the i' sler at the grave rfccalla loss , sadness ami rej . ffiwwff ] tire i iiirmnnifciM n ntrumwwi iwhth f iihwi n i"iwimnnmimwn ajft &ia.ma.wjM.iiii i i i i ' . . . . t iTifl i' l | L „ .1 TAIMAGB'S SEBMON. "CHEERS FOR THE UNKNOWN" SUNDAY'S SUBJECT. t l'rom the Trxt , Koinann xvl , 14 mill in an Followh : Sulutu Anynurltti ! * , IMilo- fion , Herman , 1'utrob.tn , Hermes , I'hU- ologus and Julia. ATTHEW Henry , Albert Barnes , Adam Clark , # Thomas Scott , and all the commenta tors pass by these verses without any t&P'WViV especial romark. IcMWl Tlie other twenty .TpKJ l wSr people mentioned ' " L In the cuaPtcr were * distinguished for something and were therefore dis cussed by the illustrious expositors ; but nothing is said about Asyncrltus , Phlegon , Hermas , Patrobas , Hermes , Philologu3 and Julia. Where were they born ? No one knows. When did they die ? There is no record of their decease. For what were they distinguished ? Absolutely nothing , or the trait of character would have been brought out by the apostle. If they had been very intrepid ; or opulent , or hirsute , or musical of cadence , or crass of style , or in any wise anomalous , that feature would have been caught by the apostolic camera. But they were good people , because Paul sends to them his high Christian regards. They were ordinary people moving in ordinary sphere , attending to ordi nary duty and meeting ordinary re sponsibilities. What the world wants is a religion for ordinary people. If there be In the United States 70,000,000 people , there are certainly not more than 1 , - 000,000 extraordinary ; and then there are 69,000,000 ordinary , and we do well to turn our backs for a little while upon the distinguished and conspicu ous people of the Bible and consider in our text the seven ordinary. We spend too much of our time in twist ing garlands for remarkables and building thrones for magnates and sculpturing warriors and apotheshzlng philanthropists. The rank and file of the Lord's soldiery need especial help. The vast majority of people will never lead an army , will never write a state constitution , will never electri fy a senate , will never make an im portant invention , will never introduce a philosophy , will never decide the fate of a nation. You do not expect # pect to ; you do not want to. You will not be a Moses to lead a nation out of bondage. You will not be a Joshua to prolong the daylight until you can shut five kings in a cavern. You will not be a St. John to unroll an Apoca lypse. You will not be a Paul to pre side over an apostolic college. You will not be a Mary to mother a Christ. You will more probably.be . Asyncritus or Phlegon , or Hermas , or Patrobas , or Hermes , or Philologus , or Julia. Many of you are women at the head of households. Every morning you plan for the day. The culinary depart ment of the household is in your do minion. You decide all questions of diet. All the sanitary regulations of your house are under your supervision. To regulate the food and the apparel and the habits , and decide the thou sand questions of home life is a tax upon brain and nerve and general health absolutely appalling , if there be no divine alleviation. It does not help you much to be told that Elizabeth Fry did wonder ful things amid the criminals at New gate. It does not help you much to be told that Mrs. Judson was very brave among'the Bornesian cannibals. It does not help you very much to be told that Florence Nightingale was very kind to the wounded in the Cri mea. It would be better for me to tell you that the divine friend of Mary and Martha is your friend , and that he sees all the annoyances and disap pointments and abrasions , and exas perations of an ordinary housekeeper from morn till night , and from the first day of the year until the last day of the year , and at your call he is ready with help and reinforcement. They who provide the food of the world decide the health of the world. You have only to go on some errand amid the taverns and the hotels of the United States and Great Britain to ap preciate the fact that a vast multitude of the human race are slaughtered by incompetent cookery. Though a young woman may have taken lessons , in mu sic , and may have taken lessons in painting , and lessons in astronomy , she is not well educated unless she has taken lessons in dough ! They who de cide the apparel of the world , and the food of the world , decide the endurance of the world. An unthinking man may consider it a matter of little importance the cares of the household and the econo mies of domestic life but I tell you the earth is strewn with the martyrs of kitchen and nursery. The health- shattered womanhood of America cries cut for a God who can help ordinary women in the ordinary duties of house keeping. The wearing , grinding , un appreciated work goes on , but the same Christ who stood on the bank of Gali lee in the early morning and kindled the fire and had the fish already cleaned and broiling when the sports men stepped ashore , chilled and hun gry , will help every woman to pre pare breakfast , whether by her own hand , or the hand of her hired help. The God who made indestructible eu logy of Hannah , who made a coat for Samuel , her son , and carried it to the temple every year , will help every wo man in preparing the family ward robe. The God who opens the Bible with the story of Abraham's entertain- ment by the three angels on the plains of Maixtro , will help every woman to provide hospitality , however rare and embarrassing. It Is high time that * .some of the attention wo have been giving to the remarkable women of the Bible remarkable for their virtue , or their want of It , or remarkable for their deeds Deborah and Jezebel , and Herodlas and Athalia , and Dorcas and the Marys , excellent and abandoned it Is high time some of the attention we have been giving to these conspicu ous women of the Bible be given to Julia , an ordinary woman , amid or dinary circumstances , attending to or dinary duties , and meeting ordinary responsibilities. * ' * * Now , what is wanted 13 grace dl- vine grace for ordinary business men , men who are harnessed from morn till night and all the days of their life- harnessed In business. Not grace to lose a hundred thousand , but grace to lose ten dollars. Not grace to super vise two hundred and fifty employes In a factory , but grace to supervise the bookkeeper and two salesmen , and the small boy that sweeps out the store. Grace to invest not the eighty thou sand dollars of net profit , but tha twen ty-five hundred of clear gain. Grace not to endure the loss of a whole ship load of spices from the Indies , but grace to endure the loss of a paper of collars from the leakage of a displaced shingle on a poor roof. Grace not to endure the tardiness of the American Congress in passing a necessary law , but grace to endure the tardiness of an errand boy stopping to play marbles when he ought to deliver the goods. Such a grace as thousands of business men have today keeping them tran quil , whether goods sell or do not sell , whether customers pay or do not pay , v. ' .ether tariff is up or tariff is down , whether the crops arc luxuriant or a dead failure calm in all circumstances and amid all vicissitudes. That is the kind of grace we want. Millions of men want it , and they may have it for the ask ing. Some hero or heroine comes to town , and as the pro cession passes through the streets the business men come out , stand on tip toe on their store steps and look at some one who in Arctic clime , or in ocean storm , or in day of battle , or in hospital agonies , did the bravo thing , not realizing that they , the enthusias tic spectators , have gone through trials in business life that are just as great before God. There are men who have gone through freezing Arctics and burning torrids , and awful Mareugoe3 of experience without moving five miles from their doorstep. New , what ordinary business men need is to realize that they have the friendship of that Christ who looked after the religious interests of Matthew , the custom house clerk , and helped Lydia - dia , of Thyatira , to sell the dry goods , and who opened a bakery and fish mar ket in the wilderness of Asia Minor to feed the seven thousand who had come out on a religious picnic , and who counts the hairs on your head with a3 much particularity as though they were the plumes of a coronation , and who took the trouble to stoop down with his finger writing on the ground , al though the first shufflle of feet obliter ated the divine caligraphy , and who knows just how many locusts there were in the Egyptian plague , and knew just how many ravens were nec essary to supply Elijah's pantry by the brook Cherith , and who , as floral com mander , leads forth all the regiments of primroses , foxgloves , daffodils , hya cinths , and lilies , which pitch their tents of beauty and kindle their campfires - fires of color all around the hemisphere that that Christ and that God knows the most minute affairs of your busi ness life and however inconsiderable , understanding all the affairs of that woman who keeps a thread and needle store as well as all the affairs of a Rothschild and a Baring. Then there are all the ordinary farm ers. We talk about agricultural life , and we immediately shoot off to talk about Cincinnatus , the patrician , who went from the plow to a high position , and after he got through the dictator ship , in twenty-one days , went back again /j the plow. What encourage ment is that to ordinary farmers ? The vast majority cf them none of them will be patricians. Perhaps none ot them will be senators. If any of them have dictatorships , it will be over .for ty , or fifty , or one hundred acres of the old homestead. What these men want is grace , to keep their patience while plowing with balky oxen , and to keep cheerful amid the drouth that de stroys the corn crop , and that enables them to restore the garden the day aft er the neighbor's cattle have broken in and trampled out the strawberry bed , and gone through the Lima bean patch , and eaten up the sweet corn in such large quantities that they must be kept from the waterjest they swell up and die. Grace in catching weather that en ables them , without imprecation , to spread out the hay the third time , al though again , and again , and again , it has been almost ready for the mow. A grace to doctor the cow with a hollow horn , and the sheep with the foot rot , and the horse with the distemper , and to compel the unwilling acres to yield a livelihood for the family , and school ing for the children and little extras to help the older boy in business , and something for the daughter's wedding outfit , and a little surplus for the time when the ankles will get stiff with age. and the breath will be a little short , and the swinging of the cradle through the hot harvest field will bring on the old man's vertigo. • Better close up about Ciucinnatus. I know five hun dred farmers just as noble as he was. What they want is to know that they have the friendship of that Christ who often drew his similes from the farm er's life , as when he said , "A sewer went forth to sow , " as when he built -i i nullum u ii imi in iiii.i.nii umajicm . mil sfimrte , ( ' < | il tSBaamam mi 111 mi nm m wmmemmmma fs B his best parable out of the scone of tt Wm\ farmer boy coming lmc' .c from bin 5g | wanderings , and the old farm houao ' imm shook that night with rural jubilee ; ' * | and who compared himself to a lamb In H m the pasture field , and who said that * m * the eternal God la a farmer , declaring , * fl "My father Is the husbandman. " B Those stone masons do not want to B hear about Christopher Wren , the nr- B chitect , who built St. Paul's Cathedral. H It would bo better to tell them how to B carry the hod of brick up ' the ladder B without slipping , and how on a cold B morning , with the trowel to smooth off B the mortar and keep cheerful , and how B to bo thankful to God for the plain B food taken from the pail by the road- H side. Carpenters , standing amid the H adze , and the bit , nnd the plane , and B the broad axe , need to bo told that H Christ was a carpenter , with his own H hand wielding saw and hammer. Oh , B this is a tired world , and It is an over- mM worked world , and it Is an under fed B world , and it is n wrung out world , and B men and women need to know that H there is rest and recuperation In God H and in that religion which was not so H much intended for extraordinary peo- H pie a3 for ordinary people , because H there arc more of them. H * * * 1 At an anniversary of a deaf and dumb X ( H asylum , one of the children wrote upon - H on the blackboard words as sublime at j B the Iliad , the Odyssey , and the "Dlvina j H Commcdia" nil compressed in one par- I H agraph. The examiner , in the signn 1 1 of the mute language , asked her , "Who | | made the world ? " The deaf nnd dumb l | girl wrote upon the blackboard , "In the ? .Wm\ \ beginning God created the heaven and r H the earth. " The examiner asked her , i "For what purpose did Christ come in- 1 1 to the world ? " The deaf and dumb | | girl wrote upon the blackboard , "This ill is a faithful saying , and worthy of all | | acceptation , that Christ Jesus came in- flmm to the world to save sinners. " The lmm\ \ examiner said to her , "Why were you lmm\ \ born deaf and dumb , while I hear and mm\ \ speak ? " She wrote upon the blackboard - H board , "Even so , Father ; for so It H seemeth good in thy sight. " Oh , that H wc might be baptized with a contented B spirit. The spider draws poison out B of a flower , the bee gets honey out of B a thi3tle , but happiness is a heavenly B elixir , and the contented spirit extracts B it , not from the rhododendron of the H hills , but from the lily of the valley. B MERRY WARFARE. H When Two Soeiety Women Hate Kaeh | Other Cordially. B "You can't appreciate what may be H embodied in that term bitter-sweet , " B sighed Limpton to the Detroit Free H Press man. "till you hear two society M women in conversation , each hating H the other fervently , yet smiling , laughing - H ing and looking angelic while they are H stabbing each other as cruelly and vigorously - H orously as though it were a duel to the H death. This is between us , but I just H came away from a little scene confirming - , H ing my view of the case. Binckley's lmmm\ \ ' # wife had called on mine. Mrs. Bink- $ ley had said somewhere that Mrs. Limp- * f yJ m H ton looked prematurely old , and that H she dressed in execrable taste , con- j WM sidering her appearance. Of course , ' Immm some 'good friend' told Mrs. Limpton. 1 I expected blue blazes when the two B met , but the event showed far more j H diplomacy than is displayed in the B management of international affairs. WM When Mrs. Binckley called Mrs. Limp- H ton kissed her , clung to her hand , chid- WM ed her for not coming oftener , and k km then , in the softest tones of solicitude , j H asked her if she was troubled with ma- j H laria , now prevalent. 'You look so yellow - H low , ' she went on , 'and drawn. I always - H ways have you in mind as plump and j H rosy. Do take treatment , dear. ' 'It's fl nothing serious , ' laughed Mrs. Binck- H ley. 'The doctor tells me that a person B with strong eyes and teeth always has H wonderful recuperative powers. It ia j H only a matter of a short time and not H at all as though I had stepped permanently - | manently from my prime into old age. ' B This was hot shot , for my wife has | worn glasses ever since she was a little fl girl , and some of her prettiest teeth B were supplied by a dentist , but she j B blandly told of how many of her dearest - B est friends who had a misleading appearance - B pearance of health had gone with quick / m W consumption , and they fell to talking ' mWm\ about hired girls. Woman is a sphinx. " B Women the Host Coincrsrrs. H Of one thing there can be very lit- B tie doubt , and that is the greater read- | H ness in conversation of women than | H men. A woman can create conversation - B tion , which is a very useful thing , and B is frequently found a great social dim- B culty. If we give a man a subject on B which he knows anything at all , unless - H less he be a fool or morbidly reticent , j fl he can talk about it so as to make himself - B self fairly intelligible and perhaps in- B terestiug for those to whom the subject - B ject has any interest at all. Men , when B their feeling of enthusiasm is excited , B throw off the slowness and hesitation B which frequently cramp their power in B society , just as they throw off the B physical infirmity of stuttering under j B the influence of some awakening theme B or some strong sympathy. But the B power of conversation in some women | and not always those of remarkable B ability , is the very art of making bricks B without straw. They will talk to one B by the hour about nothing that is , on B no particular subject and with no particular - B ticular object , and talk coherently and B not foolishly and withal very pleasant- j B ] y all the time. It would , we are free B to confess , be rather difficult for the B listener to carry away with him any B mental notes of what had been said ; H he may not be conscious of having B gained any new ideas or of having had H his old ones much enlarged ; but he will H rise and go his way , as one does after H a light and wholesome meal , sensibly- j H cheered and refreshed , but retaining no H troublesome memories of the ingredients - H ents which have composed it. H Why does a man always lose hia H nerve just when he needs It most ? ' H HM
