Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

8 THE PRICE OF A SOUL: An Amy Sermon Reported From Memory Forty Years After Delivery. BY D. I. WALDEN, of the Tenth Ga. Regt. One Sunday morning while we were eoldiering tn Virginia, the announcement was circulated in our camp that there would be preaching that morning in the grove near our camp by Rev. Dr. Stiles, a venerable Presbyterian divine. A considerable congregation assembled, from ours and some of the neighboring camps and were seated more or less, comfortably on the ground. At the appointed hour the preacher arose and. after the usual preliminaries, proceeded with the sermon. He was tall and erect with a long full beard which was. as was also his hair, of snowy whiteness His text was from Penlms 49-S. 'Tor the redemption of their soul is precious.” He unfolded the subject to us tn a clear and forcible manner that admitted of no abatement of interest from beginning to end. I have seldom ever listened to a discourse that has been so deeply Impress ed upon my mind or so lastingly retained in my memory, for. although it has been nearly forty years ago, the Imprint of it upon my memory is still distinct. Al though remembering the thoughts or ideas. I have lost the words in which they were so beautifully and appropriate ly clothed, end any attempt to reproduce th««n in words of my own choosing would detract very much from their merit if indeed It did not destroy them altogether. I couM not hope, at this late day. to give more than a mere outline of the sermon, and 1 fear that even the outline will be badly misshapen and distorted. The term “precious.” he explained, ‘implies the highest possible degree of value and since the uaredeemed soul Is lost. L e.. incapable. ln\its future state, of any happiness whatever, and conse quently altogether worthless, the precious nees of its redemption is equal to the preciousness of the soul itself: therefore, in order to properly estimate the precious ■esa or value of its redemption it is nec essary to inquire into the value of the ■MI. * Any attempt to measure the value of the soul by the ordinary standards of value, gold and silver, discloses such an excess of value in the commodity to be measured over that of the standard, that no comparison is possible. And the same difficulty la encountered to a very great extent, in the use of any human standard. The most precious of all our earthly pos sessions. and consequently our highest possible standard of value is human life, and we can probably make our nearest approach to a just conception of the value of the soul, by comparing the spiritual * life of the one. with the carnal life of the other. The value of an article depends up on its capacity tor giving happiness to its possessor and its durability. Any two commodities affording the same amount of happiness and equally durable, are equal tn value, but if equally durable and the one yields more happiness than the oth er. that one la correspondingly more val uable and vice versa. Tried by this standard some human lives are more valuable than others, because more happy or more durable. The happiness of the redeemed soul in heaven, being perfect, cannot of course be equaled, or even ap proached by that of any human life on earth; therefore the heavenly life of the one may be compared with the earthly life of the other, in regard to durability, for the purpose of attaining to some faint conception of the soul’s rating. It the eternal life of the soul may ba divided into definite periods of time, then one of these periods equal in duration to that of a human life, is more valuable by reason of it* more perfect happiness, than that of the human life, but such a period as this is a very small part of the eter nal life of the soul. Consequently our standard falls very far abort of measuring the real worth of the soul, and in order to extend it wa will multiply the average length of a human life by LOW and find the aggregate num ber of years of 1,000 human lives. The life of the soul, for a period equal in du ration to all this, is worth more than the 1.000 human Ilves, and yet such a period tn the eternal life is still infinitesimally . small Our standard of value, therefore, will have to be very greatly increased again, and for that purpose we will take the entire number of people in this state, in- Miscellaneous. T 1 TITDfI w h° desire • moethly Bewnlator that It* 111 LA cannot fall will pi raise address with LIAUIfiU stamp. Dr. Steven*. Buffalo. N. T FOR SALE—Pure bred Poland-China pigs, firot* beet northern and western stock. W. O. FeSty. Oalneuvllle. Ga. IKIICtt ONLY ». * K * >IOO,OOO worth RCIRCdO of coal miaee. timber land*, planta tion* and money, want* husband's management and protection at once. SUSIE. Drawer H, CMagffo.nl. MACHINERY. ■FECIAL—Juat received, car load of Keystone Corn Hueker* and Rhredd*r* which we are offering at special price*: also have on hand full and complete line of Engines. Boiler* and Saw Mill*, both portable and stationary. and all *t«eo For the next fifteen day* we will make apeclal price* on all goods. Cal! and get war price*, or write for catalog. Quotation*, etc. MALSBT A COMPANY, 41South Forsyth St.. Atlanta Ga. TELEGRAPHY ,nd ,ulck,T; p ** , ’ on * Georgia Telegraph Scheel. Seaoia. Ga. YW fwstsk Be ww* «*4 Ww* yes f res. yes week la SW taas*«y where yes Iles. tsoS *a r« aMraa* sag we wig •n'ria*a ****** fatly. r»iw*arwa pinala *rlaar preSt & gLc’rMTwwto, 1 ' £££■£. DLOOD POISON S ■ Either primary. m-ondarv or terary °yph!lla Qui-k.r. p«tiT»;» and f -r»ver rjrri wit! out lb* Mt at Mercury or lodM* of Potash, by the woa- SmM Bar bah* Coaaponnd. a few week*' use of which ■sakes adean, healthy being, after oompirie failure with ■aEs* fiunjag ana ether to*atm*at. Fs 11 tnforaiattea. BEKkSFEB :•, SfiKKl'.-S Stricture CUBED WHILE YOU SLEEP in IS DAYS, ■very eafierer from Stricture and It* offspring. VABKOCELE, PmstatiU* and Seminal Weak ness. 1* invited to write to fit James Medical A sea., / and »buy wi l *eod their Illustrated Treatise. • bow Ing the parts at the male system involved FDEE la urethralaiimeats. fkealed PREPAID flltE ST. JAMES MEDICAL ASSOCIATION. >2 St. James Building. Cincinnati, 0. ’••-100-HGE BOM FREE S nfcrsri Hw Fr.asrr Smtlu-r cr ’trfiry IntllA bar* praamatly <«-*! U« went ess** i> 15 »* 34 Aya VeadialU* a**l «k*t;sst» cssm i CAPITAL, SSOO.IXXI { Trn tsa ** trwtsd st Uu* txlcr ssa* fusnan. If y*u Urrtakta awrsrv, i*d d*y»t*st. isittiilltr* sek*isa4ww, IswuPsttbrni* Isttb.hreDrsst, hayLw. Csypsr Csl»M Bti*. F.nr* *s *i r ysri »f tbs I b*4y, la>*r mbrraUlusf «t. writswrsrssti es ' •%, COOK REMEDY CO. 671 Maeuca* Temple. Chicago* HL . eluding the armies, and find the total number of years of all of their lives. And a period of soul-life equal to all this is worth more than all the human lives in the state of Virginia, and after the soul has enjoyed the heaeenly life for a period equal to all this it still has an eternity of happiness before it. In order to extend our measuring stand ard still further we will take the entire population of the United States and the Confederacy and calculate the number of years of all of their lives. And a period of the soul’s life equal to all this is worth more than all the human life in this great country. Yet after the soul has feasted on the Joys of heaven for a period equal to all this it still has an undiminished eternity of rejoicing in prospect. Now, to still further amplify our stand ard. we wifi take the whole population of the world, of e>try race and color, and find the aggregate number of years of life of the entire human family. A period in the life of the soul equal in duration to all this is worth more than all the human life on the earth, and yet after the soul has enjoyed its glorious career throughout a period equal to all this mighty aggre gate of years, it still has an eternity be fore it. Now. we will go back to the creation and beginning with Adam and Eve, count all the people of all the generations from them to the present time, and then go for ward and estimate as best we can the number yet to be born, and calculate the sum of all human life on the earth, past present and future. The soul’s life for a period equal to all this is worth more than all human life. And if we multiply this last number by ten thousand and cal culate as before, the result will be the same, thus Justifying the assertion some times heard from the pulpit that "one Immortal soul is worth more than ten thousand such worlds as this." Young man. you have such an infinitely valuable immortal soul! Will you accept this -precious redemption, absolutely free of charge? O -A.. Bean ths A tIW KM YR NIW AIWIR foUtM Rev. Sam Sones Again Catches It For His c Uiews. Atlanta Journal: Considerably more than one-third of a century after the close of the war, Rev. Sam Jones is pouring out the vials of his wrath and indignation up on the question of the justice allowed the widows of the brave Confederates who fell, the few old one-armed and one-leg ged veterans who still live, and the com mon school fund. He seems to claim that those allowances are the cause of high taxes and the condition of the state treas ury. Hon. Dupont Guerry, candidate for gov ernor, holds exactly to the contrary. In his speech here a few days since, he stated that if he 1# elected governor he will sign no paper whose mission is to diminish the income of the old soiuiers and widows, or decrease the school fund. Mr. Guerry claims that the railroads, in this state (or the most of them) are paying taxes on only about one-third of their true value; that if they were made to come up and pay tax in proportion as merchants, farmers, mechanics and banks pay. many more thousands of dol lars would come into the treasury annu ally and hence taxes would be lower, the treasury would not have to borrow money and the school fund and pensions would be paid with ease. Now why is it and how is it that the reverend gentleman does not Jump on with both feet and help Mr. Gusrry to make the railroads come up and pay the many thousands of dollars which Mr. Guerry claims they ought to pay, over and above what they do pay. But perhaps Mr. Jones has free passes on all or most of the roads in Georgia, and if he has, is it not reasonable to suppose that the value of those passes to him makes him mum and blind along this all-important line? Will Mr. Jones please tell us in his next letter to The Journal how many rail roads them are in Georgia on which he has tree passes? He has said that he talks out in "meetin;” now I hope he will be consistent and tell us how many free passes he has. and we will guess at how much influence these passes have over him. In the judgment of the very best and most patriotic people of this state and the south, Mr. Jones Is puking on the two most sacred causes that the state baa to care for. If Mr. Jones had spent two or four years of his life in the war and had left a limb on the soil of Virginia or some other battle ground, there is not a sensible man, woman or child in the south who believes that he, would paw the ground, vomit and talk of these sacred causes as he does. In his last attack he warns the people that the tax-gather is coming and he demands a great deal of tax money. Now there are thousands of good people who claim that Mr. Jones is the most rigid tax-gatherer that there is tn the state. They claim that he is not satisfied with less than from $1,500 to >2.600 for ten days or two weeks preaching, and these sums are gathered from single congregations. Mr. Jones rises very, very high in his last let ter to The Journal and commands the leg islature to quit using pills and powders and to take out their knives and whack off not less than one-half the allowances to the causes named, and reminds the legislature that then "the wail on the old soldier busines will begin.** Mark his language! "Wall from Dan to Bersheeba on the old soldier business.” I have heard it said that the time will come when an empty sleeve or pant's leg will be a disgrace in the south to the man who carries it. I do not believe that such will ever be the case, but should the time ever come that any number of south erners so- act and believe, can I help believing that such vomit as Sam Jones pours on the unfortunate in the lost cause, brought such about? Mr. Jones says that scarlet fever in his family recently gave him rest from the taps of the beg gars at his door. Do not those poor needy people know that his thousands come easy and think that some of it ought to go easy? When I thought that Sam Jones preached only for souls and a reasonable support there was no greater admirer of him than I. The argument that he uses, vis: that the fellow who cannot educate his kids ought to go out of the kid bus iness is no argument at all. He very well knows that there has always been and always will be parents who cannot give their children an education, and many who will not try. Must those chil dren grow up in ignorance ana vice? I understand Bam Jones to claim that they ought. Probably nine-tenths of the old crippled soldiers who are now living, after spending two to four years of their lives in the war. came home penniless and those of them who are able to bury themselves became so by working almost two days in one and doing almost two men's work, and denying themselves ot any luxury, leisure or pleasure, while the ' Rev. Sam Jones received probably SSO to ' SIOO and possibly more at times for one i hour's sermon or lecture and lived in lux ury and laid his head on a downy pillow at night. When Mr. Jones Jumps on the railroads and helps Mr. Guerry to make them pay taxes on the other two-thirds of their value and when he goes to a few poor communities and preaches for them with out big pay. and when he stops his efforts I to down the Old soldier and widows of the THE SEMI-WEEKLY JOURNAL, ATLANTA, GEORGIA, MONDAY, NOVEMBER 11, 1901. The Ladder of BY MRS. RA LPH VICTOR. A child in wonder gazed one day upon a Ladder bright as Gold; topped with Price less Gems— Watched earnestly as men essayed to CIIUIO It. One rung, two, aye, sometimes three they mastered—faltered—stopped. Long observed the child this sport. Final ly one came; one of Napoleonic features, more zealous than his immediate Prede cessors. Four—five—six— He seemed in fairway of gaining the summit. Then perceived the child that all those he had passed, supplemented by many others, like unto mischievous boys— Hurled sticks and stones, pelted him with Mud. as though to impede his Prog ress, or perchance make finer sport. Upon this scene burst Ridicule and all her servants wen equipped with Hose, bearing penshaped Nozzles. With Fluid, making many and varied Grotesque Pic tures. This called forth funeral Hilarity and his Laughing Army. He (the climber) laughed with them, oftimes At them. Yet unflinchingly crept Onward. Up—up—up—he is nearly there! Suddenly in breathless amazement the child saw spring forth (as though Guar dian of the Treasure) a skeleton with scythe in hand— And he shudderingly wondered; “must he pass That, too?” At that moment there rang out upon the pregnant air a shot—a shot so loud and vibrant as to send its detonation around the entire civilized world. All, all! Aye, even those who had hurled the Missiles now stood with Hat in hand— Head bowed in Grief. And the Hose bearing Fraternity seemed paralyzed, the Fluid frozen by Sorrow until thawed by the Remembrance of many Great Deeds. Then the child again gazed upward. And behold—he could dimly see the BRAVE FELIX. ♦ + ♦ A Story With a Moral. ♦ Felix Rogers’ parents died when he was a very small boy. He had no brothers or sisters, and his only relative, an aunt, his mother's sister, although a poor widow who was obliged to work hard to provide for her own fam ily. kindly took him to her humble home. She had five children—Alice, George, May. Lizzie and Leon—and Felix made the sixth. Felix was at the head of his class; he was very bright and learned rapidly; They all went to a public school. When Felix was 14 years old he still lived with his aunt; but she was not so poor as she had been when Felix came to live with her. Her uncle had died and left her a small sum of money, but quite enough to live comfortably without work. Felix was a strong, tall, good-natured fellow. I His honesty and truthfulness made him a great favorite with all his school fellows and all who knew him. One day at lunch hour, as he was walk ing home from school, a fire engine passed, but fires were so numerous In a large city that It did not attract the children's at tention. From the distance Felix noticed a crowd gathering around the apartment house In which he lived. As he drew nearer this Is the scene that met his eyes: Several fire engines at work, men shouting, women screaming, children sobbing and thick, black smoke pouring from the doors and windows, while fire men were climbing ladders and people coming down fire escapes. In the midst of this scene of horror Felix saw a child at an upper window. The firemen were afraid to get it, as they thought the wall might fall at any minute. Felix looked again, the child was in the third story; she was a little girl about four years old. Her danger increased as the seconds sped. Felix was about to run up a ladder when a policeman said, roughly: "See here, young man, don't go up there or you will be killed sure. One dead Is better than two.” "I will save her if no one else will,” and up he dashed through the smoke before the astonished policeman could stop him. Felix was as quick as a flash; he took the child on his a>m and descended rapid ly. He reached the sidewalk in safety and heard the policeman mutter: “He is a plucky boy; I am a policeman, and wouldn’t have done it; neither would the firemen, and everybody knows they are brave.” Three minutes later, with a crash that was heard many blocks, the wall fell down; nobody was hurt, for the policeman ordered the people to "stand back,” which they did in a hurry. The next day Felix’s name was in the newspapers, with a long account of his bravery. The mother of the child he rescued was Mrs. Richmond, a wealthy lady. She did not live in the flathouse, but her nurse girl went there to see her sister and took the child with her. When the fire broke out she ran to save herself and forgot about the little girl. Mrs. Richmond went to see Felix's aunt, and with her consent she adopted Felix. She had lost a son about Felix’s age, and Mrs. Rogers knew Felix had a good home, a loving mother and a dear little sister. He would go to college, and some day might become a great man. Yet she was very sorry to let him go, as sho loved him as if he were her own son, but she thought, "He will have a good education and a chance to be a lawyer or write great books, and If he stays with fallen, and when he does something to help educate poor children, then and not till then, many who once admired him wiH believe on him again. Yours truly, W. H. ROBERTS. P S.—Why don't Mr. Jones Jump on big salaries for little work? I hope that he will "talk out in meetin’ " and tell how many free railroad passes he has and whether or not he will help to compel the railroads to pay taxes on the other other two-thirds of their property. He once said that he is always for the bot tom dog. but it seems plain that he has changed his tactics relative to old wid ows, cripples and the poor children. W. H. R. fev OWL ‘ 'W II nyMyißVffli *h«t's rich and bril- fl 1 cWt luVttMMU’L >‘*nt. No eder. L | Many styles. Sold J everywhere. oil co. | climber pluck the Precious Jewels and— He waited— Waited Long for the Victor’s trium phant Eeturn. Growing impatient he turned to make Inquiry and faced an Awful Truth. Like unto the child he was, he hurled his Queries, shaking the Ladder in his impotent Rage: “What is This?” "Fame,” the Awful Truth curtly an swered. "The skeleton?” "Death.” "And the Gems?” “Fame's Glorious Crown—the Jewels of Recognition.” Then the child stammered in awesome Fear: “And must—must Man Die to reach them?” Even the very trees affirmatively bow ing seemed swayed by a breeze that bore unto his waiting ears these echoing words. "Aye he is dead. Foully murdered. The tidings flashed from place to place, And a great, free Peopls shuddered At the dire loss they had to face. Paralyzed with grief and sorrow Appeared each fount of daily news Until loosed by the remembrance Os thousand virtues, all his dues. Then, too, many million readers First 'woke to knowledge n f the man— Learned to know him when they lost him, As life vanished hotqage began. You ask. ‘Does it take shot or knife Our eyes to ope to view the jewel? Must man give up his very life To breathe Incense where praise is fuel?’ Paradoxical, perhaps, and yet— Past events have brought It to view. Well may we cry, O what a pity! And likewise, ‘Pity 'tls, *tis true.’ ” Every fall reaps Its harvest of deaths caused by failure to regain strength and health aftsr a trying summer. DR. 81 EGERT'S Angostura Bitters enrich ths blood. me he soon will leave school and have to work for his living? Was she not unselfish?' Felix never forgot his aunt’s kindness, and by and by when she moved to the country and three of her children went to college some people thought It was Felix's doings, and perhaps It was. So we see, whether a boy is poor or rich he can always be kind and loving and help others. EDNA FRANCES DESSAR. Find Bostrom's Improved Farm Level advertisement, and see what you get free. ♦ WHY DOGS CANNOT READ. ♦ ♦♦♦»♦♦»♦>♦♦»♦♦>♦♦»♦♦♦♦♦♦♦* ,A great many years ago, even before au tomobiles were invented, Mr. Dog used to live with Mr. Man, Just as he does now. Any one would think that he should have learned company manners and know how to behave almost as nicely as your eldest sister when there is company to dinner, but any one of you who is acquainted with very many dogs will know that he did nothing of the kind. This Mr. Dog of whom I speak did commence to learn a great deal, but he found that therq ap peared to be drawbacks too much. One day he was watching Mr. Man churn, when Mr. Man said that if Mr. Dog wanted to have more fun than he had ever heard of he would better learn to churn. Mr. Dog was always looking for fun, and he said that would be just the very thing he had been wanting to learn for a long time. Mr. Man rigged a con trivance at once, which made the churn work beautifully whenever Mr. Dog walk ed up a little row of gjats. Mr. Man said that the greatest fun qf all was to be tied fast, $o he tied Mr. Dog fast to the string. Mr. Dog walked up the slats and had fun for quite a while, and then he found that he was so very tired that it would be more fun to He down and rest. He called to Mr. Man to come and let him loose, but Mr. Man was busy having fun chopping wood and so did not hear Mr. Dog, who had to keep on walking, so that the slats would not slide out from under him and leJve him suspended by the neck. After a long time the milk was all churned Into butter, and Mr. Man came and let Mr. Dog loose, Mr. Dog did not even say "Much obliged, Mr. Man,” but he crawled off and lay down and slept for two days and nights without ever waking up. A few days later Mr. Man’s son Tom my was working his best at carting ap ples In a little wagon from the orchard to the cellar. He was very tired and wanted to stop, but he did not dare, for his fath er had told him to take them all in. He smiled behind his ears when he saw Mr. Dog coming, and he looked Just as happy as only a boy can when he smiles that way. , “Good morning. Tommy," said Mr. Dog as he came up. "You look as happy as a puppy with a five-pound tenderloin steak.” “Oh. yes; I affi having such fun here,” replied Tommy. Then he asked Mr. Dog if he did not want to have some fun, too; but Mr. Dog remembered about the churn, when he could not stop when he wanted to, and he said he guessed he would try to get along without fun that day. But Tommy said that it was Just perfectly glorious and that If Mr. Dog would only try it he would let him look at his pic ture book. That sounded nice, so Mr. Dog let Tommy harness him to the little wagon. Tommy plied tne apples into the wagon and Mr. Dog had to draw the load to the house, and it Was all up hill all the way, too. After four or five trips Mr. Dog became tired and wanted to stop, but Tommy would not unharness him, and so, of course, he had to go on. Tommy made Mr. Dog keep pulling these heavy loads until they had taken all the apples to the cellar. Then Tommy unharnessed him and asked him how he liked learning to draw the wagon. "I CO¥POSIfE~AMMALS. Here is a game that Is a little too long for recess, but just right for those girls who take their luncheon to school and then eat it so quickly that they have for ty minutes or so to wait before school begins In the afternoon. The girls who play it “choose sides,” and there can be as many on a side as you can get, although there should not be iess than four. Each side chooses the name of some animal, being care ful not to let the other side know their choice. There is a captain of each side. After the ani mals have been chosen, one side goes to the blackboard, and each girl makes a straight line. Those lines form part of the outline of the animal which that side has chosen. The lines may be joined to gether or not, but each line must be part of the outline of the animal chosen. The captain of the side may decide whether to have each girl draw one or two lines, but each girl must draw the same number. The object is to sketch on the blackboard enough of the outline of the animal so that an equal number of new lines drawn by the other side and connecting the old lines will complete the picture. The side first at the board is very careful not to let the other side know what animal they intend to picture, and In drawing it they make the outlines as disconnected as possible, so that the other side may be misled into making a finished picture of the wrong animal. This they will uo in a great many cases, but if they do get the right one and finish the drawing In the same number of strokes used by their opponents, they take their turn at beginning the drawing, while the other side must complete It. But If the guessers do not draw the right animal, or if in drawing it they use one stroke more than did the others in their half of the de sign, they must guess again and complete another picture. So thfc game goes on un til the bell rings, when the side w’hich has started the most pictures is .he winner. Three Sweet Girl Graduates BY SARA BEAUMONT KENNEDY. Copyright, 1901, by Daily Short Story Pub. Co. The June sun had done full duty all day, for no cloud had marred the white ra diance that lay on the close-cropped grass and shining paths of the college campus. In their joint sitting room three girls lounged In comfort. “Just to think,” Julia Thurston said, "it is all over, the weeks and months of study, and we are ‘finished’ young la dies.” “Yes,” Celia Holmes answered, “tomor row we will be ‘turned out,’ three inno cent lambs among the wolves of the world. Let's make a solemn contract to meet here a year from that day and tell our experiences.” “Agreed,” said the others. And for a few moments nothing else was talked of, the plan seemed so delightful. Then Celia said, yawning: "I cannot In the least imagine how I am to exist with out those heart-to-heart talks with dear old Professor Pope over trigonometry questions.” “The wonder to me Is how you ever pulled through at all, Celia,” said Lester Hines, who lay full length upon the rug. "When Professor Pope got a passable mathematical paper out of you he worked the modern miracle and picked figs from thistles.” "I suppose you and Julia thought you were going to leave me here?” “Yes; we had talked It over with tears, and we had Imagined scenes out of the future like this: As mothers, entering our daughters, we would come back here and find you still doing a dally pilgrimage to ‘the Pope.’ And again as grandmothers we would return with a second genera tion of girls and find a wizen old woman ‘doing trig’ through double glasses.” “Oh, pray don’t think of stopping at being a grandmother—go on, even unto the third and fourth generation,” Celia cried, throwing her slipper at the grace ful figure on the rug. “Certainly I will go on, for there Is one more scene to the drama. One day some 70 years from now, when mine and Julia’s great-granddaughters graduated with the first honors, as their ancestresses are do ing tomorrow, that old woman, who was once pretty, athletic Celia Holmes, would fall In her exams again and die of morti fication and old age, and at the post mortem examination the mystic word ‘trigonometry’ would be found graven on her heart!” "Yes,” put in Julia, with mock tearful ness, "we thought to see you die an octo genarian. not of paresis or appendicitis, not of anything common, such as ague or malaria, but of trigonometry-of-the heart.” “Very kind pf you all to kill me off like that. I hope you arranged for flowers and carriages at the funeral.” “Really, Celia, how close did you come to failure?” asked Lester. “So close that I think I barked my shins .and skinned my teeth. Please don’t talk of it any more or you’ll set my wounds to bleeding afresh.” “If you had failed, Julia and I would have taken our diplomas tomorrow in deep mourning; and that would have been terrible, considering how angelic Celia looks In white—and who will be here to see her.” “Well, she need not be stuck up because Phil Blair is coming to bring her some roses; Harry Peters will be here to see me.” There was a silence. The tall, fair girl by the window looked out into the shim mering day and smiled, that smile a wo man gives a lover for greeting; while the girl In the easy chair—only a trifle less lovely—turned a ring on her finger with a sudden tenderness about her red mouth. Only Lester, lying on the rug, had no ray of the dream-light on her dark face. She knew the secrets of these others, and wnlle they mused thus she watched «them curiously. What must It be like, this state of loving and being loved? She was an orphan, poor and homeless, without a rel ative in the world. She was to carry off the first honors tomorrow, yet who was there to care except the old professor who had trained her and these two girls from whom the honors were won? “You dear little brown bird.” Julia said, turning suddenly and seeing the look in Lester’s eyes, and stooped to gather the clinched hands into her strong, white ones. “What are you thinking of, Lester?” “I was wishing there was some one in the world who cared for me, too.” "Why, Lester, I thought you did* not want a lover; that trigonometry was to be the romance of your life,” cried Celia. “A lover is better than nobody," sobbed Lester. Julia stroked the dark hair tenderly. “I’ll tell you what I’ll do. ’ she said pres ently, “I’ll lend you Phil for your lover during commencement. I will have moth er and fatner and grandma and cousin John; surely that is laudation enough for one girl. I shall tell Phil to be very de voted to you, send you flowers and all that.” k “You’ll do nothing of the sort.” Les ter cried, starting up. “I would not bor row yours and Celia’s clothes all these years, I certainly shall not borrow your lover now.” “Dear me, Lester, what a time we have had with that foolish pride of yours. Just as If our things did not belong to you by right of affection,” sighed Celia. "You two have been so good to me,” Lester said, her eyes filling. “Hush up!” cried Celia, throwing her other slipper with accurate aim. "Where should I be today, I should like to know, but for your coaching and bullying? It was you pulled me through, not professor. I owe everything to you.” Anu so they comforted the heart-sick girl, these two favorite daughters of fortune. That night r.t the promenade concert Lester met Phil Blair. Julia had coached him as to his part, and from the moment of Introduction he was as Lester's shad ow. At first she protested against his at tentions and even tried to avoid him; but it was no use, and by and by the exhllara- "Couch FRFFI over s iorc, 2? Indies wife. "V" w ■ Think of it, yon can get an Upholstered Couch, 2 »alrs d Lace Curtain* and a handsome set of Table Silverware, for selling onr ■ RemedlM. There is no chance or deception about thio advertleement. Weepeak the truth and, nothing but the truth, we are determined to Introduce our Remedies into every household, and every person answering this advertisement who will sell oitfy d boxes of our Positive Corn Cure, a positive cure for corns, bunlone ana callous feet, will receive our generous offer of a handsome Upholstered Couch and two pairs of Nottingham Lace Curtains, with a sterling silver plated beantifaHy engraved Salt and Pepper >3 Set, which we give abeolutely free for selling only 6 boxes of Salve at 25 ct*. a box. If you agree to sell the Salve, write to-day and « we will eend them by mall. When sold von send us the SI.M and we guarantee If you comply with the offer we ahall eend you with BN the Silverware; the Upholstered Coach and 2 pairs es Nottingham Lacs Cartains will be given absolutely free. We are an old, reliable concern, with a reputation for square and honest dealing,and we guarantee to do exactly as we say. Onr Lace CartahMare M * yards long and over a yard wide. The Silverware is guaranteed silver-plated on pure metal. The Coaches are rail size, over 6 feet long, and over 2 feet wide. They are well stuffed, beautifully upholstered with handsomely colored velour, and when shipped are sens from the factory by freight direct to your address. ag MANUFACTURERS' SUPPLY DEPARTMENT 101 B NO. 85 FIFTH AVE., NEW YORK CITY. t tion of having a handsome man always at her elbow to hold her fan or whisper bappy nonsense in her ear had its effect upon her. so that Celia declared she out shone even her own bright self. The next morning when she stood before the bril liant Audience to deliver her valedictory she was glad for the first time that she was carrying off the honors of her class, for directly in front of her sat Phil watching her with a look she had never seen in any other man's eyes. His admi ration made the honors seem more worth while. When she was done an usher brought her a great armful of splendid Jacqueminot rcses. and she flushed th think of the sender. “You were superb,” Phil whispered amid the congratulations after the exer cises were over, “And my roses are past praise.” she answered, for under the ribbon she had xound his card. He lifted one of the blossoms and held it near her cheek. “Jacks are your roses by some artistic right. I shall always as sociate them with you.” That afternoon there was a coaching party, and by Julia’s arrangement she went with Phil on the box seat, but she declared vehemently that she would not have him near her at the faculty's recep tion that evening. Julia laughed; when a woman is sure of a man a game like this Is very amusing. So that evening Phil again followed in Lester’s train, dancing with her, sitting with her on the balcony or in some quiet nook, and Julia, from a circle of admirers, smiled her sat isfaction on him. But Lester was excited and restless. What did that Intent look in Phil's eyes portend? What was this new, sweet emotion knocking at her own heart? She began to be afraid, and was glad when at last it was all over and she was alone. The next morning, rising very early, before the others, she went to bld farewell' to her old haunts about the grounds. At the boathouse was Phil Blair, oars in hand. “Come,” he said, “let us go for a little row on this enchanted stream. She hesitated, but he drew her to the boat, and for half an hour they drifted on the placid water, but they did not see the cool, white lilies looking up at them, nor the red sunrise clouds overhead; they saw only each other’s eyes. A few’ hours later the three friends stood in their sitting room for the last time. "Remember,” said Julia, “one year from now we are to keep a tryzt here and tell each other what fate has brought us.” ” We will remember,” the others an swered, and they went slowly out. The year went by. Lester had spent it teaching at the college; Celia and Har ry had been six months married; but something was amiss with Phil and Julia. Their marriage had been postponed, though to the world Phil was a model lover; only the girl missed something from his manner and his voice, some thing without which she felt all else to be void and empty. It was the anniversary of the com mencement. Again the June sunshine whitened the paths through the college campus, but there was a silence in the house and a knot of crepe on the door. A carriage fame swiftly up the drive and the two women in it were pale and sor rowful. “Our tryst day and we are to keep it with a dead Lester instead of our blithe, brown bird we loved so well,” sobbed Celia. "Professor Pope wrote me that she worked all winter as in a fever. He thought she was unhappy, but she would never tell him the cause. At Christmas I wanted so much to have her with me, but she would not come,” Julia said. Celia turned her face away; she was dull at mathematics, but she was quick to read human hearts, and she had long ago guessed the loan of Julia's lover had worked mischief for the two persons most nearly concerned. Lester would not go, because she feared to put herself in Phil’s way again; she was too loyal to farther jeopardize her friend’s happiness: but Julia had never guessed the harm her intended kindness had done. As they stood, a few minutes later, be side the casket in the hall, weeping for the smile they would never see again. Pro fessor Pope entered and placed two un opened letters in the cold hands on the pulseless breast. “She said the had no right to read these on earth, but she wished them buried with her that perhaps in Paradise she might know their contents, and I prom ised it should be so,” he said, weeping bitterly. Julia bent down and looked at the writ ing on the envelopes, and when she stood up she was like some beautiful marble statue. “And these roses?” she whispered hoarsely , pointing to the mass of Jacque minots that covered the lower part of the casket. ‘‘They came an hour ago addressed in the same hand as the letters. The death notice was in yesterday’s papers, and so I suppose they were some friend’s fare well.” “Yes, they were his farewell,” Julia said, still in that tense whisper. Then with Celia’s arm about her, she stooped and kissed Lester’s cold brow. “I loaned you my lover against your will, my little brown bird, and in so doing I broke three now I know, I know.” And so they kept their tryst, these old friends, in the soft June weather; and Julia's heart was filled with a bitter self accusing; but Celia, looking farther into the future, said, as she held one warm hand and one cold one In her tender clasp: “They were both true to their ideals of right, dear Julia, and all will yet be well.” Th* naval hero wrote a book. In which his comrades all were scored. “I’ll prove,” said he. “by hook or crook. That pen is mightier than the sword.” Forewarned, Forearmed. The liability to disease is greatly lessened when the blood is in good con dition, and the circulation healthy and vigorous. For then all refuse ma--.ar is promptly carried out of the system ; otherwise it would rapidly accumulate fermentation would take place, the blood become polluted and the consti tution so weakened that a simple malady might result seriously. A healthy, active circulation means good digestion and strong, healthy nerves. As a blood purifier and tonic S. S. S. has no equal. It is the safest and best remedy for old people and children because it contains no minerals, but is made exclusively of roots and herbs. No other remedy so thoroughly and effectually cleanses the blood of im purities. At the same time it builds up the weak and de bilitated, and reno vates the entire sys tem . It cures permanently all manner of blood and skin troubles. Mr. E. E. Kelly, of Urbana, 0.. writes! M I had Eczema on my hands and face for five years. It would break out in little white pustules, crusts would form and drop off, leaving the akin red and inflam ed. The doctors did me no good. I used all the medicated soaps and salves without benefit. S. S. 8. cured me, and my skin is as clear and smooth as any one’s.” Mrs. Henry Siegfried, of Cape May, N. J., says that twenty-one bottles of 8. 8. 8. cured her of Cancer of the breast. Doc tors and friends thought her case hope less. Richard T. Gardner, Florence, S. C., suffered for years with Boils. Two bot tles of. 8. 8. 8. put in dition and the Boils disappeared. Send for onr free book, and write onr physicians about your case. Medical advice free. THE SWIFT SPECIFIC CO., ATLANTA, GA. MEN INTERESTED IN BIRD BILL The article in another column on this page, entitled “Protection of North Am erican Birds.” is particularly tingly, even In a local sense. > The bird bill is now before the Georgia legislature. That bill seeks the protection of "all wild birds and all other than game birds.’’- It Is probable that the vote on the bill will be taken Monday. It is delightful to know that many oth ers. besides the “Bird Lovers’ club” of Atlanta, are interested in the passage of tills bilk ‘ ‘ Hon. O. B. Stevens. Georgia commission er of agriculture, give the bill his hearty endorsement, and has signified his inten tion of doing all in his power to further its passage. Then Mr. William Dutcher, of New York, secretary of the Ornithological society, ■ and Dr. T. S.’ Pal mer, of the biological survey of the de partment of agriculture at Washington city, are in Atlanta, strongly interested in the bill’s going through.. Mr. Frederick, of Macon county, pre sented the bill in the house, and Mr. Chappell, of Columbus, will present it in the senate. Thus, we see, the men Are Interested. That augurs well for the success of the movement. Science is Interested, the United States government speaking through Dr. Pal mer, of Washington City, and Mr. Stev ens. of Georgia. Humanity is interested, Mr. Dutcher giving his time and effort as a labor of love; and all the Bird Lovers with Mrs. Julius Brown at their head, watching the Georgia legislature with keenest interest. When science and humanity both call for a certain law. It should speedily find a place on the statute books. And so it will be with the bird bill in Georgia. Cuttting Remark. Chicago Tribune. Hanger-on—What’s making that rasp ing noise in the next room? Bailiff—l think it’q a woman filing an application for divorce. 4 FULL $0.15 QUARTS EXPRESS PREPAID. I The celebrated Mountain Del! Whiskey is distilled upon th* old-fashioned plan, over slow open fires, insuring a liquor of rare quality. Our entire prod uct is Mid direct to the con sumer, Who thus gets an un manlpulated old whiskey of guaranteed purity. Your Money Back If Not Pleased. I We will send by express, I prepaid, four full quarts of *-year-old rye. for IgMfiMfiKaM $3.15, and If you are not in every way satisfied, • ••■ r *‘ turn a: our I and your money will be refunds. Everything I shipped in plain cases. ■SL4 jKaElfciiHW Address all orders to The Mountain Dell Co., Distillers. Dept. A, Atlanta, Oa.