Newspaper Page Text
REV. DR. TALMAGE.
:
THE BROOKLYN DIVINE’S SUN¬
DAY SERMON.
Subject: “Other Days Lived Over.”
Text: “ Thou shall remember all the
way which the Lord thy God led thee.'"—
Deuteronomy viii., 2.
Before entering on my subject I wish
to say that some newspaper correspondents,
referring comed foreign to a recent sermon in which I wel¬
nationalities to this country,
have said that I advocated as a desirable
thing the intermarriage of the white aud
black races. I never said so, I never thought
so, and any one who so misrepresents that
sermon is either a villain or a fool, perhaps
both.
But to open this Horning’s subject I have
to say God in the tixt advises the people to
look back upon their past history. It will do
us all good to rehears# the scenes between this
May morning and oui cradle, whether it was
rocked in country c r in town. A few days
ago, place -with my sister aid brother, I visited tho
of my boyhood. It was one of the
most emotional and absorbing days of my
life. There stands tho old house, and as
I went through, the rooms I said: “I could
find my way here with my eyes shut,
although There I have not been here where‘a in fortyyears.”
-yas tho sitting room large
Am Jy group every evening gathered, the most
of them now in a better world. There was tho
old barn whore wo hunted for Easter eggs, and
the place where the horses stood. There is
where tlio orchard was, only three or four
trees now left of all the grove that once boro
apples, brook down and such which apples too. There is the
we.rode to the water¬
ing of the horses bareback, and with a
rope halter. We also visited the cemetery
where many of our kindred are waiting for
the resurreotion, the old people side by side,
after a journey together of sixty years, only
about three yours between the time of their
going. There also sleep the dear old neigh¬
bors who used to tie their horses under the
shed of the country meeting house and
sit at tho end of the pew, singing
“Duke Street," and “Balerma,” and
“Antioch.” Oh, they wore a glorious
race of men and women who did their work
well, and raised a splendid lot of boys and girls,
are now as to their bodies in silent neigh¬
borhood on earth, but as to thoir souls in jubi¬
lant neighborhood before the throne of God.
I feel that my journey and visit last week
did me good and it would do you all good, if
not in person then in thought, to revisit the
scenes of boyhood all or girlhood. “Thou shall;
remember the way which the Lord thy God
led thee.”
Youth is apt too much to spend all its time
in looking forward. Old age is apt too
much to spend all its time in locking back¬
look ward. both People in It mid-life and on the apex
ways. would be well for us, I
reminiscence. think, however, By to the spend more time in
constitution of our
nature we spend most of tho time looking
forward, and the vast majority of this audi¬
ence live not so much in the present as in tho
future. I find that you mean to make
a self, reputation, and the advantages you mean that to establish your¬
achieve absorb great dea l of you time. expect But to
a your
I see no harm in this if it does not make you
discontented for existing with duties. the present or disqualify
you It useful thing
is a sometimes to look back,
and to see the dangers havo wo have escaped, and
to see the sorrows we suffered, and the
trials and wanderings of our earthly pilgrim¬
age, and to sum up our enjoyments. I mean
this morning, so far as God may help me, to
stir up your memory of the past, so that in
the review you may be encouraged, and
humbled, and urged to pray.
There is a chapel in Florence with a fresco
by Guido. It was covered up with two
inches of stucco until our American and Eu
ropcan artists went there, and after long toil
removed the covering and retraced tho
fresco. And I am aware that the memory
of the past, with many of you, is all covered
up with ten thousand obliterations, and I
propose this morning, so far as tho Lord
may help picture me, to take shine a way the again. covering, that
the old may out
I want to bind in one sheaf all your past
advantages, and I want to bind in another
sheaf all your past adversities. It is a precious
harvest, and I must bo cautious how I swing
toe Among scythe. the advantages of
greatest your
past lice was an early home and its surround
ings. The bad men of tho day,
for the most of part, the dip boiling their spring heated of
passions out home. We su{-prised
an unhappy Byron’s are not to
find that heart was a concentration
of sin, when we hear his mother was abaci
dosed, and that she made sport of his in
firmity, and often called him “the lame
brat” He who has vicious parents has to
fight every inch of his way if he would main
tain his integrity, fn hekver. and at last reach the home
rtf Perhlps 11 m croorl
your been early home the was in the city.
It may have in days when Canal
street, Hew York, was far up town and the
site of this present church was an excursion
into the country. That old house in tho city
may have been demolished or changed into
stores, and it seemed like sacrilege to
you, for There was more meaning in
that plain is house, in granite in that small house, tur
than there a mansion or a
retod cathedral. Looking back this morning
you see it as .though.it where the were loved yesterday—the by the
sitting lanip&ght,,the roam, mother ones the sat evening
plain brothers and sisters, at perhaps loug
stand, gathered the into the skies, then plotting
ago mischief the floor under the table,
on or your
father with a firm voice commanding a silence
that lasted half a minute.
Oh, those hurt, were good days! always If you had
your toot your mother had a
soothing salve to heal it. If you weA*
wronged in toe street, your father was
always round ready of frolic to protect and mirth. you. Theyearwas
one Your greatest
trouble was like an April shower, more sun
shine than shower. The heart had not been
ransacked by troubles, nor had sickness
broken it, and no lamb had a warmer sheep
fold frUan the home in which your childhood
nestled.
Perhaps you stand were brought up in in the
under country. You old now You to-day clubbed memory it for
the tree.
fruit that was not quite ripe because you
couldn’t wait any longer. You hear pebbles, the
hrook You step rumbling again into along the furrow over the where your
fatoer in his shirt sleeves shouted to the lazy
oxen. You frighten tho swallows from
the rafters of the barn, and take just
one egg, and silence your conscience
by saving they won’t miss it. You
take a drink again out of the very bucket
that toe old weU fetched up, You go for the
cows at night and find them wagging their
heads through the bars. Oftiines in tho dusty
and busy streets you wish you wore homo
again nted on that cool grass, or in the rag car
hall of the farmhouse, through lrny which tho
thero was tho broath of now mown or
blossom of buckwheat.
You may havo in your windows now boau
tiful plants and flowers brought from across
the seas, but not one of them stirs in your
soul so much charm and memory as tho old
ivy mid the yellow sunflower that stood sen
tinel along the garden wall, and the forget- long
m e-note Tne playing father, hide-and-seek who used mid tho in
grass. to come sun-
burnt from the fields and sit down on the
doorsill and wipe the sweat from his brow,
Tho may mother, have gone who to used his everlasting to sit rest.
nt the
door a littlo bent over, cap and spectacles
on, her faco mellowing with the vicssitudes
of many years, may havo put down her gray
head on the pillow in the valley, but forget
that home you nover will. Have you thanked
God for it? Have you rehearsed all these
blessed reminiscences? Oh, thank God for a
Christian father; thank God for a Clvristinn
mother; which thank God for an taught early Christian
altar at you were to kneel;
thank God for an early Christian home.
I bring Of to mind life, another passage in tho his¬
tory your household. The (lay camo when you
set up your own The days passed
along in quiet blessedness, You twain sst nt
the table morning and night and talked over
your affair plans for the future. life The most insigni
cant in your became the subject of
mutual consultation and advisement. You
wore be so happy you felt you never dark could
hovered any happier. One day a cloud
darker and over darker, your but dwelling that mul it got
out of cloud the
shining messenger immortal of spirit, God descended IVo to in¬
carnate on little feet
darted on an. eternal journey, and you were
to lend them—a gem to flash in ‘heaven's
coronet, nod you to polish it; eternal ages Of
light newly aud darkness watching tho starting out
of a created el'eaturo.
You rejoiced and yon trembled at the re¬
sponsibility thnt in your possession an im¬
mortal treasure was placed. You prayed
and rejoiced, rejoiced ajul wept and wondered, and
prayed and earnest in and supplication wept and wondered;
yon wore that you
might lead it through life into the kingdom
of God. There was a tremor in your earnest¬
ness. There was a double interest about that
home. There was an additional interest why
you should stay there and be faithful, and
when in a fow months your honso was filled
with tho music of the child's laughter, yon
were struck through with tho fact that you
hod a stupendous mission.
Have you kept that vow? Havo you n>
glectod any of these duties? Is your Have homo as
much to you as it used to bo? those
anticipations to-day in been solemn gratified? reminiscence, God help you let
your and
His mercy fall upon your soul if your kind¬
ness has been ill requited. God have mercy
on the parent on the wrinkles of whoso
faco is -written the story of a child’s
sin. God have mercy on the mother
who. in addition tocher other pangs, has tho
pangs of a child’s iniquity. Oh, there are
many, many sad sounds in tins sad world,
but the saddest sound that is ever heard is
the breaking who of remember a mother’s heart. in Are thero
any here that that home
they were unfaithful? Are there those who
wandered off from that early home, and left
the mother to die with a broken heart? Oh,
I stir that reminiscence to-day.
I find another point in your life history.
You found one day you were in tho wrong
road; you couldn't sleep at night- there was
just one word that seemed to sob through
your banking-house, shop, or through your office,or
through that word your “Eternity." or your You bed-room, “lam and
was said:
not ready for it. O God, havo mercy.” Tho
Lord heal'd. Peace came to your heart. In
the breath of the hill and the waterfall’s dash
you heard the voice of God’s love; the clouds
and the trees hailed you with gladness; you
came into the house of God.
days Have of you prosperity, forgotten and to thank that through God for your
trials of have made investments your
some you
which will continue after the last bank of
this world has exploded, and the silver and
gold are molten in the fires of a burning
world? Have you, amid all your losses ana
discouragements, table this forgot morning, that there was bread
on your and that there
shall be a shelter for your head from the
storm, and thero is air for your lungs, aud
blood for your heart ; and light for your eye,
and a glad and glorious and triumphant re¬
ligion Perha for your soul?
ips your last trouble was a bereave
ment. That heart which i: in childhood was
your has been refuge, the parental of heart, and which
a souroe the quickest sympathy
ever since, has suddenly become silent for
over, and now sometimes, whenever in sud
don annoyance and without deliberation
you say “I will go and tell mother,”
the thought flashes on you: “I have no
mother;” or the father, with voice less
tender, but watchful as stanch and earnest and loving
as ever, of all your ways, exultant
over your success without saying much,
although themselves, the his old trembling people hand do talk it over by
on that staff
which you now keep as a family relic, his
memory embalmed in grateful hearts, is
taken awav forever.
Or, there was your companion m life,
sharer ofyour joys and sorrows, taken, leav
m S the heart an old mm where the dull
winds blow over a wide wilderness of desola
tion, the sands of the desert driving across
the place which once bloomed like the garden
of God. And Ateaham mmirns f on Sara a
the cave of suddenly, Machpelah. right Going before cdong your
P^th m life, p !e 1 ^. ed down and you *** was
an °P™ «T few feet deep , and few
saw it was only a it a down
fe *t wide, but to you was a cavern
which went all your hopes and all your ox
pectations.^ But cheer ^ of . ,, T , ,
Christ, the Comforter. He is not going to
forsake you. Did tho Lord take that child
out of your arms? Why, He is going to shel
tor it bettor than yon could. Ho is going to
array it in a white robe, and with palm
branch lt wili be all ready to greet you at
your coming home. Blessed the broken heart
that Jesus heals. Blessed the importunate ery
J©sus compassionates. Blessed the weep
ing eye from which the soft hand of Jesus
wipes away the tear.
i was sailing down the Sl. John Paver, Can
fi-da, which is the Rhine and the Huason corn
mingled in one ecene of beauty and grandeur,
and while I was on the deck of the steamer a
gentleman and pointed he said: out to “All me this tho places is interval of in
terest, land the
land, andrit is the richest iu all prov
inces of New Brunswick and Nova Sootaa.”
“What,” said I, “do you mean by interval
land?” “Well.” he said, "this land is sub
merged for a part of the year; spring freshets
come down, and all these plains are over¬
flowed with the water, aud the water leaves
a r*Sh deposit, and when the waters are gone
the harvest springs up, and there
is toe grandest harvest that was
ever reaped.” And I instantly the thought, church
“It is .not the heights heights of this of world that is
and it is-not the
the scene of the greatest prosperity, but the
roul over which the floods of sorrow have
gone, the .soul over which the freshets of
tribulation bavetorn then way, that ykdds
the greatest .fruits of righteousness, and tho
largest harreet for time, and the richest
ha rue -1 for eternity.” Bless God that your
soul is interval iand.
But these reminiscences reach only to thfe
morning. There will yet be one more point
of tremendous reminiscence, ard that is the
last hour of life, when we have to look over
all our past existence. What a moment thai.
willba! I place Napoleon’s dying reminis
eenceon St. Helena beside Mrs. Judson s dy
ing the same reminiscence island, twenty in the harbor years after. of St. Helena, Napo
loon’s dying reminiscence was one of delirium
“Head of the army.” Mrs. Judson’s dying her
reminiscence, as she came home from
missionary toil and her life of self-sacrifice
for God. dymg in the cabin of the ship in the
harbor of St. Helena, was: “‘I always did
love the Lord Jesus Christ.” And then, the
historian says, she fell into a sound sleep for
an hour, and woke anna ten soars of ansoia-
1 place against’tlie the (tying dying reminiscence reminiscence of Augustus of the
Caesar The'
Apostle Paul. dying reminiscence of
Augustus Caasar was, addressing well his attend¬ the
ants: “Have I played my answered part him on in the
stage of life f and they sa’id:
affirmative, and he dying “Why, reminiscence then, don’t of
you applaud me ?” The
Paul the Apostle was: “I have fought a
good fight, I have kept tho faith; hence¬
forth there is laid up for me a crown
of righteousness, which the Lord, the right¬
eous Judge, will give me in that day, and
not to rae only, but to all them that love His
appearing.” Augustus Cresar died amid
pomp and great surroundings. looking Paul uttered
his dying reminiscence God up through
the wall of a dungeon. graut that our
last hour may be the glorious closing of a useful life,
and the opening of a eternity.
You remember how' your hand trembled as
you took up the cup of the Communion, You
remember the old minister who consecrated
it, and you remember the church officials
who carried it through tho aisle; you re¬
member the old people who at the close
of tho service took your hand in
theirs in congratulating sympathy, as
much as to say: “Welcome homo, you
lost prodigal;” and though those hands
are all withered away, that Communion
Sabbath is resurrected this morning; it is re¬
surrected with all its prayers, and songs, and
teal's, and sermons, and transfiguration.
Have backslider? you kept God tlioso help vows? Have you been
a you. This (lay kneel
at the foot of mercy and start again for
heaven. Start to-day ns you started then.
I rouse your soul by that reminiscence.
But I must not spend any more of my time
in going over the advantages of your life. I
just put them all in one great sheaf, and I
wrap them up in your memory with one loud
narvesr song, suck as tlie reapers sing. Braise
too Praise Lord, the ye Lord, blood bought crowned immortals spirits of of earth!
yc heaven!
But some of you have not always had a
smooth life. Some of yon ore now
in tho shadow. Others had their troubles
years ago, you aro a mere wreck
of what you once were. I must
gather how shall up the I do sorrows it? You of your past life; but
say that is impossi¬
adversities. ble, as you have Then had I will so many troubles aud
just take two, the
first trouble and the last trouble. As when
you has are been walking in along the distance; street, and there
music tho you uncon¬
sciously find yourself keeping step to too
music, so when you started life your very life
was a musical timeboat. Tho air was full of
joy made and tho hilarity; boat skip; with the bright clear oar you lifo
you went on, and
grow voice brighter from heaven until said: after “Halt!” a while and suddenly quick a
as
the sunshine you linltod: you grow polo, y ou
confronted your first sorrow. You had no
idea that the flush onyour child’s cheek was
an unhealthy flush. You said it can’t be any¬
thing serious. Death in cradle. slippered feet
walked round about tho You did
not hoar the tread; but after a while tho
truth flashed on you. You walked the floor.
Oh, if you could, with your strong, stout
hand, have wrenched that child from tho
said: destroyer. “God, You went child! to your God, room and you
save my savo my
child.” The world seemed going out in dark
noss. You said: “I can’t bear it; I can’t;
bear it.” You felt as if you could not put
the long lashes over the bright eyes, never
to see them that again little sparkle. in Oh, if you could and
have taken one your arms
with would it have leaped done tho grave, ltl Oh, how if gladly could you let
houses you land
your and property storehouse go, your how go, gladly your
your go, if you
wo uld have allowed them to depart you
could only have kept that one treasure!
But one day there arose from tho heavens
a chill blast; that swept all over the bed¬
room, and instantly thero the darkness—thick, light went
out, aud was
murky, But impenetrable, God didn’t shuddering leave dark¬
ness. you there.
Mercy and spoke. about As to you put it took to up the lips, cup
God was “Lot it pass,” andforthwith, your by
said: as
the hand of angels, another cup was put
iuto your hands- it was toe cup of God’s
consolation. And ns you havo sometimes
lifted the wino head into of a lips, wounded God soldier, His and left
poured his so put
arm under your lioad, and with His right
hand He pourod into your lips the wino of His
comfort and His consolation, and you lookod
at the empty cradle and looked at your
broken heart, and you looked at tho Lord’s
chastisement, and you said: “Even so,
Father, for so it see.moth good in Thy
sight.” Ah, it first trouble. How did
was your you
got over it? God comforted you. Yon have
been a bettor man ever since. You have been
a better woman over sinco. In the jar of tho
closing gate of the of opening the sepulcher you heaven, heard tho
clanging felt irresistible drawing ga te of heavenward. and
yon an
You havo been purer of mind ever sinco that
night when the littlo one for the last time put
its arms around your neck and said: Good¬
night, heaven." papa; good-night, mamma. Meet rao
in
But I must come on down to your latest
sorrow. What was it? Perhaps it was your
own sickness. The child’s tread on the stair,
or the tick of the watch on tho stand dis¬
turbed counted you. Through tho figures tho lon£ weary the (lays
you in can
pet or the flowers in the wall paper.
Oh, the weariness, tho exhaustion! Oh,
the burning pangs! Would God it
wore morning, would But God it were night, bettor, were
your perhaps frequent well. cry. Have you are thanked that or
even you
God to-day you can come out in tho fresh air;
that you are in this place to hear God’s name,
and to sing God’s God’s praise, forgiveness? and implore Eless God’s the
Lord help, and to healoth ask all diseases, and
who our re
deemeth our lives from destruction.
Perhaps your last sorrow was a financial
embarrassment. I profession congratulate some of you
on your lucrative or occupation
on ornate apparel, on a commodious hands resi¬ to
dence—everything you But put there your others
teems to turn to gold. are
of you who are like toe ship on which Paul
sailed, where tho violence two seas of met, the and you By are
broken by waves. an
unadvised indorsement, or by fire, a conjunction
of unforeseen events, or by been or storm head- ' or
a senseless panic, you have flung
long, and where you once hard dispensed work make great
charities, now you have to
the two ends meet.
iue Workers In Petroleum.
The petroleum industry ... em
body gives
ployment to a large of laborers,
i n 1880, according to the census report,
tbere were 2 ,m skille l and 8,784 un
skilled ... , workmen engaged in producing
oil, and 9,8(>9 persons in refining it.
There are about 20,000 wells in the en
tire oil field, but many of them are
,, “ P P cr pn( “JV j one e i and an l T at
‘ *« 7. .
tend to several of item. A . fter the .,
com
pletion of the derm k and the arrival
0 f engine and tools, four men are re
r . u j le( j drill a W ell. These men re¬
‘
eive v o.ou per uav. The common
well-tenders, pipe-men, and the like,
receive $50 per month, or fr m $1.75
$ 2 p er day. Coopers and carpenters
= . a b ou t $2.50. In refineries an/i skilled
laborers rers receive receive $d S3 uer per dav day, and still- sf ll
men, or common workmen, get about
$1.75. _ George R. Gibson, in Harper’s
\fana?in.e
CANNING HERRINGS.
A New Industry Which Has
Taken Root in Maine.
Process By Which the Fish Are
Prepared for Market.
American art was not the only thing
which received an impetus at the Cen -
tennial Exhibition in 1876. It became
evident that we had a great deal to learn
about tho food preparations derivable
from Fiance, Norway, Sweden, and
even Spain. Fish products in endless
variety, all excellent, made no inconsid¬
erable portion of the foreign exhibits.
Ij might lake years of labor before we
could rival the Sevres porcelain, but
there could not be any such trouble in
regard to tho preparation of 'sardines.
As there always has been a great deal of
enterprise in New England, it struck
those interested in fishery products that
there were ways of preparing herring
other than simply salting or smoking
them, and at once, copying in a certain
measure the Scandinavian fashion, a new
industry had its birth in Maine.
The centre of the canning of herrings
is found at Eastport, Maine, and here at
certain seasons a very large business is
done. The herring are caught in vast
quantities by means of scino3; and the
smacks bring the fish into port. As
herrings are perishable, quick-sailing
vessels arc necessary, so as to hurry the
catch into port. A considerable portion
of the catch is put in barrels for con¬
venience in handling. As soon as the
fish are landed they are at once dumped
on long tables, where they are picked
and cleaned. If the fish are for can¬
ning, pains are taken that all the herring
shall be of a size. There are particular
seasons when the young herring run,
and these are best adapted for canning.
Hands become very expert, and a great
number of fish can be picked and cleaned
iu the briefest period of time. Some¬
times mechanical adjuncts of a simple
kind are used to take off the scales and
fins.
In some of the largest of the estab¬
lishments, when fish arc plenty, hun¬
dreds of women are employed. Thero is
no mechanical process yet invented
which will fill the tins, and so fingers
must be used. In France sardine cans
arc packed so close with fish that not
another can be put in. The reason for
this is not because the French canncr is
a generous man, but for the good reason
that olive oil is worth more than the sar¬
dines. In Eastport factories the greatest
cleanliness is used, and the rooms are
constantly washed down. As fast as tho
fish have been cleaned and gutted they
are brought into the canning-rooms. In
some canneries the fish arc first thor¬
oughly cooked before being put into tho
tins; then the cans arc warmed anew and
soldered. Certain factories cook the
product directly in the tins. It requires
a great deal of skill to give the her¬
ring their proper flavorings. If there is
the least blunder in the mechanical part
of the work, the spoiling of the product
is the result, as immediate decomposi¬
tion takes place. A great many herrings
are smoked at Eastport,and following the
methods employed for cod, boneless
herring are made. These are put on
the market in glass boxes. There are
however, some ways of putting up the
herring which England seems to have
the secret of. We have not yet succeed¬
ed in converting the American smoked
herring into the Yarmouth bloater. Off
the coast of California the CJupea sagax
is found, and this is the true European
sardine. So far no advantage has been
taken of the sardine in American waters,
but in tho time to come, when the olive
tree shall become more plentiful in Cali¬
fornia, the sardine will find its proper
accompaniment, which is olive oil, and
not cotton-seed oil.
Herring enter very largely into hu¬
man consumption, though to a less de¬
gree in the United States than in other
countries. As nearly as can be esti¬
mated, 43,000,000 of pounds of herring
are taken off the North American coast.
The aggregate catch in European waters
is 250,000,000 pounds.— Harper's Weekly.
Spring Styles.
Swellboy (to tailor): Look here;
there is only one check on this pair of
trousers.
Tailor: Yes, only one check on the
trousers, but you see I’ve put another
whole one on the coat. — Time.
Diligence is the mother of good luck.
Tlie Superstitious Chinese. 1
The Chinese, says Frank Q. Carpenter,
ate full of superstitions, and many of
them firmly believe that the foreigners
make medicines out of human beings.
The massacre at Tien-Tsin in 1870, in
which twenty foreigners were killed
and among them a number of French
nuns, was caused by the report that the
Sisters were killing children to get their
hearts and eyes for medical purposes,
and the trouble in Corea last spring was
caused by the circulation of tho stories
that the missionaries were grinding up
children’s bones to make medicine.
This report was started by the Chinese,
and the latest attempt of tho kind I find
today here at Shanghai. It appears in
a tri-monthly illustrated magazine which
the’Chinese publish, and which sells for
5 cents a copy. This contains a full
description of how the foreigners make
their medicine, with ghastly illustrations
of the severed trunks and the cut-up
limb3 of human beings, la one cut
men iu American clothes are bending
over great furnaces in which the heads
and legs of men are bailing, and beside
which great baskets and tubs of cut-up
humans lie. The men aro stirring the
steaming mass, and the picture makes
one think of the witches’ caldron in
“Macbeth.”
In another cut is shown the machinery
for the grinding up of the bones and
flesh. A dozen old skeletons lie upon
tho floor, and a man with a shovel puts
the ghastly mass upon the scales for
weighing. In another room tho medi¬
cine is packed up to be sent away, and
young ladies in American dress with
waterfalls and French heels are busy at
it. I asked the manager of tho maga¬
zine whether he believed in such stuff,
and he replied that he did not know,
and asked if it was not really true.
Sagacity of Shepherd Dogs.
A gentleman who has had consider¬
able to do with shepherds and drovers
in England and Scotland, speaking of
the story published in the Oregonian a
day or two since about a dog separating
the ewes and wethers of a flock by
noticing tho earmarks, says there is no
doubt but what it is true, He has
known dogs to go iuto a drove of sheep
which were marked with several dif¬
ferent marks and single out every one
bearing his master’s mark. He says the
shepherds train their dogs by taking
them along when puppies under their
care as they mark the sheep, and the
d(g is thus taught to distinguish marks.
He says further that at the sheep market
in Islington drivers have their sheep
marked with red or blue paint, and
when the drives get mixed a dog will
go into the band and bring out all his
master’s sheep, telling them by the color
of the marking. Shepherd dogs arc the
most intelligent species of the canine
family, and when they are brought up
among herds of sheep and trained to
take charge of them, it is but reasonable
to suppose that they might learn to
notice marks of any kind on them.—
Portland Oregonian.
The Salvation Army’s Progress.
In a history of the Salvation Army in
nn English magazine, General Booth, its
commander, says that it now consists of
2593 corps in 31 different countries, and
under the leadership of 7199 officers
wholly devoted to the work. The pres¬
ent revenue of the Army, drawn “main¬
ly from the streets and public houses,”
is the great sum of $3,750,000. In
England alone it pays rents aggregating
more than $500,000, and scats in the
United Kingdom upwards of 700,000
persons every Sunday.
This remarkable growth has occurred
almost wholly during the last ten years,
during which time also the Salvation
Army undoubtedly has begun to gain in
the respect of religious people as a
means of evangelization among the
poor, and as a missionary "Organization
in what are called the heathen coun
tries —New York Sun.
Romance of a Silk Hat.
Philip Vo’kert, a silk hat mmufac
turer of Cincinnati, was working
away quietly one evening lately, when a
customer entered and handed him his
hat to be ironed. Something besides
the evident antiquity of the tile at¬
tracted Mr. Volkert’s attention, and
upon turning down the leather he recog¬
nized his private mark, placed there
when he made the hat as a “jour ' hatter,
over thirty years ago. The customer de¬
parted with a new hat, and Mr. Volkert
Iiossesscs the other as a precioui relic of
the way they did things when he was a
a boy.