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THE PIPES O’ GORDON'S MEN.
Home comes a lad with the bonnie hair,
And the kilted plaid that the hill-clans
wear;
- ou 1^ e , ?r ie Mother say,
’’ hear ha ye bin, my Laddie, whear ha’
«ni . > e i b ! n th ’ day T”
Uh: 1 ha bin wi’ Gordon’s men:
Dinna ve hear the bag-pipes play:
And I followed the soldiers across the
green,
'And doon th’ road ta Aberdeen.
And when I’m a man. my Mother,
And th grenadiers parade,
111 be marchin’ there, wi’ my Father’s
pipes,
And I'll wear th’ red cockade.”
Beneath the Soudan’s sky ye ken the
smoke,
As the clans reply when the tribesmen
spoke.
Then the charge roars by!
The death-sweat ciings to the kilted form
that the stretcher brings.
And the iron-nerved surgeons say,
\\ hear ha ye bin, my Laddie, wkear ha’
ve bin th’ day?”
Gh, 1 ha bin wi’ Gordon’s men;
Dmna ye hear th’ bag-pipes play?
And I piped the clans from the river
barge
Across the sands—and throusrh the charge
And I—skirled the—pibrodi-keen—and
high,
But th pipes—bin broke—and—my—lips—
bin—dry.”
—J. Scott Glasgow, in McClure’s Maga
zine.
THE TUMUrToTpASSION.
By CHRISTINE V. PENNEY.
Brentwood stood in a narrow door
way and gazed across at a closed
window. The old, wild passion cap
tivated him. Kis fingers twitched
nervously. His eyes burned through
the light, evening mist, and strained
toward the building opposite.
“G —d, what a faol! What a fool!
Can t keep away.” He pulled a roll
of bills from his fur lined topcoat,
and quickly ran them through. “Bah!
Only SSOO. The very last, too. It’s
not a drop in the bucket.” He start
ed, as if come upon something un
expectedly. From an inner pocket he
drew a large wallet. Carefully, he
counted note after note. “Five thou
sand!—l’ll do It! I’ll risk it. I’ve
got to win—the tide’s bound to turn.
I can pay it back.”
Unconsciously, Brentwood spoke
aloud. An Italian flower vendor, in
the alley alongside, listened curious-'
ly. Brentwood started across the
street.
“Flowers, sir? Nice, fresh roses,
sir?”
“No,” snapped Brentwood. The
lad held up the fragrant blossoms
temptingly. “Here, though, I guess
I’ll let you take some up to the
house for my daughter—l 26 West
—th street; Brentwood’s the name;
for Madge Brentwood, understand?”
“Madge Brentwood?” The Italian
paled.
“Correct, my boy.” Brentwood
impatiently thrust a bill into the fel
low’s hand, flung past him and en
tered the great gambling house of the
city.
Within all was brilliant. Luxuri
ous comfort fawned upon you. Piles
upon piles of red, blue and white
lozenges clicked in your ears. Win
or lose their rattle lured you on, and
on again! Stacks of greenbacks gloat
ed behind the bars of a cashier’s
cage. The sight of them made your
eyes bulge, your cheeks feverish, and
your brain throb! The Tall of the
cards! Harvey Brentwood knew well
its irresistible fascination!
Three men lolled at a table near
the door.
One of them motioned to Brent
wood.
“Play?” he asked.
‘‘How many?” inquired Brent
wood.
“Four-handed.”
“Limit?”
“No limit, sir.”
Brentwood sat in. The game was
on! Pot after pot rolled away from
him. Seal after seal snapped on new
packs of cards. Brentwood held
good hands, antied and raised, but at
the call, the other fellow always had
better. His cash was petering out.
His cash? That was long since gone.
It was the balance of the SSOOO.
Great heavens! He must win this
time!
“It will cost you fifty to draw
cards,” said the dealer. Two of the
players threw in their hands.
“I’ll stick,” said Brentwood, care
lessly. He drew one card. He no
ticed that his opponent did likewise.
“I’ll bet you $500,” cried the man.
“There’s your SSOO, and S3OO bet
ter,” muttered Brentwood. He had
staked his last dollar!
“Well, I’ll call you.”
“Two pair.” Brentwood's voice
sounded harsh. “Aces high—aces
and kings.” He held out his hand.
“Two pair here. Jacks up and
Jacks down,” sneered the man oppo
site. “Four of a kind, if you prefer.”
The cards trickled from Brent
wood’s fingers. He crumbled like a
tender, blighted plant. With a piti
able groan he shoved the chips from
him. They clattered across the board,
and the winner drew them in. Smil
ing, he arranged them in neat rows
before him. Brentwood’s bleared
eyes stared at them. They seemed to
stretch unendingly, and they all
meant—dollars —thousands of them!
,W rth a gasp, he fell back.
“Try another hand, Brentwood?”
,L “I’m aU in, gentlemen. I’ll have
to—say—good night.” He staggered
to his feet.
'T il back you.” A quiet voice
i speko from the doorway. Brentwood
wheeled about and scrutinized the
speaker. It was a young man,
scarcely more than a boy, he seemed.
The collar of his ulster muffled up to
his ears, and a soft hat, the brim
pulled down in front, still lay upon
his head. It was no unusual thing
for a loser here to find some willing
champion to back him. But this
was a mere boy! Brentwood consid
ered —hesitated. Then the thought
of his loss—his crime—bent about
him.
“All right, sir. Come in, won’t
you? I’m losing heavily. You're
sure you want to chance it?” The
man nodded. “Come in, -and hang
*up your coat. Be comfortable.”
“I’m comfortable, thank you. “I'll
look on from here. Win—we’ll spflt.
Lose—l’ll stand it.”
Brentwood looked sharply at the
lad. He had spoken so listlessly, in
a wornout way. Men who talked so
seldom came here. But he turned to
the table, to the fight that meant
honor—everything to him.
The first time round the pot was
his. Then he won again—again—-
and again! The other players were
bidding cautiously.
“Brentwood, the Icid sure’s brought
you luck,” said one.
Brentwood didn’t answer. He was
dealing. He looked closely at his
cards. Folded them up. Ran his fin
ger quickly down the stacks of chips
in front of him, roughly estimating
about JSOOO and then said: “How
many?”
“Two.”
“The same here.”
“One.”-
Brentwood held a pat hand. The
three glanced at one another.
"I’ll bid $200,” said the man on
his left, slowly. The others came
up.
“Two hundred,” called Brentwood,
“and SSOO better. An even SIOOO,
gentlemen.”
Ordinarily, some one of them
would have tried it out. But Brent
wood had had a straight run of luck,
and their cards went down. Brent
wood quietly gathered up his win
nings. The pat hand had done it!
He had bluffed it out. But if they
had called him—he had held only
nine high!
“That’s all, I’m satisfied.”
He jumped up. He felt buoyant.
The whole ugly affair seemed far
behind and insignificant. His man
hood fought for recreation—for vic
tory over his tumultuous passion!
In the elation of his success he had
forgotten his champion. He turned
now to the doorway. It was empty!
Excitedly he searched the large room,
hut there was no trace of the stran
ger. He left the building hurriedly,
and stood on the curb outside gazing
about him. Somebody gently touched
his shoulder. He turned and looked
into the face of the youth who had
assisted him to retrieve his honor.
“Father!”
Harvey Brentwood gasped. The
lad pulled off his hat.
“Father, it’s Madge! Oh, father,
how could you?”
The man was speechless. He looked
wan and old in the dull glare of the
street lamp.
“It was Dominic,” the girl went
on, “who told me when he brought
the roses. He heard you talking to
yourself in the doorway. He knew
you were going to —use —that money.
I helped him when he was sick in the
hospital, and he told me that I might
save you. But I was too late—the
money was gone—gone!” Some
thing choked in the girl's throat.
Wide-eyed she gazed in unutterable
agony upon her father. I —I —pledged
my jewels—to back you.”
The man never spoke a word. The
mirage that had deluded him all
these yeans faded before him. He
felt strangely quiet. Silently, he
reached out his hand and found hers,
and in the silence they •walked, hand
in hand, the broad avenue that led
to home. —Boston Post.
A Weight Lifted.
The American heiress fell sobbing
at the feet of the foreign nobleman.
A dread fear obsessed her. Was it
possible that she —she —
No! It was absurd. Her better
sense assured her of that. Still, she
could not stifle this great fear, a fear
that all was not as It should be. But
she knew him so well. Surely it could
not be — No, it was preposterous!
He was of noble blood. But to ease
her mind, even at the sacrifice of her
self-esteem, she would ask him.
“Tell me,” she wailed, “do you
love me for my wealth alone?”
“I swear it,” he cried.
A glad light shone in her eyes, and
a great weight seemed lifted from
her soul, for she was a girl who had
a great horror of doing anything un
conventional. —New York Times.
An Ambidextrous Liar.
Hi —“Jim Tagwood says he kin
juggle ten eggs t’ wunst! Keep ’em
all in th’ air an’ never smash a one!”
Si —“Gee! He must be ambidex
trous!”
Hi —“By gum! He is, if that’3
Greek ‘blamed liar!’”—Chicago
News. ■' -
THE PULPIT. ‘
A BRILLIANT SUNDAY SERMON BY
PROF. HENRY S. NASH, D. D.
Theme: In God's Likeness.
Brooklyn, N. Y.—ln Holy Trinity,
Sunday morning, the Rev. Henry S.
Nash, D. D., of Cambridge, Mass.,
was the preacher. A very large con
gregation was present. Dr. Nash's
subject was, “In God's Likeness.”
The text was from Psalms 17:15:
“When I awake in Thy likeness I
shall be satisfied.” He said:
It seems to me that one of the
happy elements in the life of our time
regarding spiritual questions Is this:
That so many honest, earnest men
and women find themselves unable to
believe in personal immortality. I
say that that to me is one of tho. hope
ful signs of our generation, for how
ever deep may be our personal pity
for them, who through honest doubt
have lost that which means so much
to us, yet as a sign of the times it is a
sign- of extreme hope because students
of church history cannot doubt for a
moment that the belief in the world to
come has been tragically vulgarized,
that upon that belief in the life be
yond the craft of priesthood has built
up an immense body of superstition
that appeals to the very opposite in
the hearts and souls of men, and who,
therefore, if he be a student of his
tory, can doubt that God Himself, the
living God who holds in His hands the
reins of history, that it is the living
God Himself who inspires the honest,
earnest doubts and questionings of
an increasing body of honorable men
and women of our day touching the
belief of immortality, and the great
good He is teaching to the church is
this: that God through that doubt is
bringing His church to book, and is
teaching His churcn to start where
the prophet started, and not to put
the cart before the horse, and not to
argue for personal immortality before
they have laid the foundation upon
which that argument should be built.
And every Christian to-day who
thinks, and to whom personal immor
tality is the very breath of his daily
life says to us, and every Christian
who thinks agrees with the men and
women who doubt or deny personal
immortality, that here is where we
all start, whether inside the church or
outside; here, I say, is where we
start; the one thing that we all hold
ourselves responsible for is good
housekeeping, good housekeeping
here upon earth, and in time, in
space. But what do we mean by
housekeeping? And the problem is
how to keep one’s loyalty to life vig
orous, recreative and self-renewing
when life brings upon us increasing
burdens of responsibility and disap
pointments and cares and pain and
death. How to be loyal to life! That
is the test, and by it the church of
Christ is content to stand. By her
ability to answer that question she
would test her theology and her creed
and her sacraments.
Let us take a parable from the apple
tree. The apple trpe is waiting just
now confidently for the springtime.
We thoroughly doubt and deny that
old saying that “One swallow does not
make a summer.” The philosopher
and the man of common sense have
always affirmed that as if it were an
ultimate truth regarding life. What
a wretched, narrow, perverted, strick
en world it would be if the philos
opher and the theologian* controlled
this world; if there was not a poet
and a prophet in it! The apple tree
would say, if it knew a little history,
“Well, I am inclined to think that the
agnostic and the infallible theologian
are twins.” And it is only because the
church has set up the infallible theo
logian as the teacher of the world
that now the layman is putting the
theologian into his place, that now
the layman’s work has created the
dogma of the agnostic in order to
counterweigh and overcome the dog
ma of the infallible. I know just a
very little about God, but without
that little I could not live and with
out that little I couid not look for
ward to comfortably standing on the
edge of spring, I could not look for
ward confidently to my great task and
joy and privilege to bud and leaf and
blossom and fruit. And the parable
when we translate it into prose would
come down to this: how to be loyal
to life. First of all, we must be un
conquerably strong, strong.
And what shall the kind of our
strength be? Two kinds the
strength to do and the strength to
bear. And of the two, the strength
to bear is the greater, because the
strength simply to dc is always beset
by temptation to vanity and to ego
tism.
A preacher knows that he is never
In such deadly peril of egotism as
when he is preaching, the mere joy
of preaching, of the utterance of ex
pression.
The preacher who knows his own
conscience knows that he is never at
any time so near to the devil as when
he is in the pulpit, and all of us know
that if you take a man of force, some
man who wields a tremendous busi
ness power, and if one dared to bet
on such a tragic thing one would
wager 100 to 1 that that man behind
his own door is a tyrant, a tyrant be
cause the intoxication of power has
gone to his head.
But when it comes to strength in
bearing there is no allusion there.
When God has given us our burden
of pain, disillusionment and disap
pointment, and when by His grace
and the sweet companionship of the
Saviour we have learned to so bear
our burdens that nobody but God
ever knows what it is, to so bear it
that the burden in our hearts is
known only to God and not even to
our dearest friends and closest kin,
there is n*o illusion about that; no
egotism about that.
Tfe /
I XTERXATKVv XL LESSON COM
MENTS FOR JULY IS.
Subject: Paul’s Second Missionary
Journey—Thessalonica and Be*
rea, Acts 17:1-15 —Golden Text,
I’s. 119:11 —Commit Verse 11.
TIME.—A. D. 62. PLACE.—Thes
salonica and Berea.
EXPOSITION.—I. Paul in Thes
salonica, l-{). Paul had at this time
a quite uniform mode of procedure.
First, he began with the Jews at their
regular place of meeting, the syna
gogue (comp. vs. 10, 17; ch. 9:20;
13:5; 14:1; 18:4; 19:8). Second,
he made use of the Sabbath day, the
regular Jewish day of assembly. Those
already Christians met on the first
day of the week for their own distinc
tive services (Acts 20:7). But in or
der to reach the Jews, Paul wisely
made use of their day, as missionaries
among the Jews still do. Third, he
reasoned with them from the Scrip
tures. Nothing else has the power to
convince, convict, convert and regen
erate men than the Word of God has
(Eph. 6:17; Jer. 23:29; 2 Tim. 3:15-
17; Jas. 1:18; 1 Pet. 1:23; Luke
8:11). There were three principal
points in Paul’s preaching: (1) The
Christ must suffer. The Old Testa
ment is full of this doctrine. (See,
for example, Isa. 53). Why the
Christ must suffer we see in Isa. 63:
6; Matt. 26:28; Heb. 9:22; Jno. 19;
36, 37. (2) The Christ mwst rise
again froip the dead. This, too, he
proved from the Old Testament, as
Peter did, on Pentecost. (3) That
“this Jesus whom I proclaim unto
you. is the Christ.” There are many
in these days who wish to substitute
some other Jesus for (he one whom
Paul preached; some Jesus of their
own conception or fancy, and not the
actual historic Jesus. This Jesus be
ing the Christ It is of the highest im
portance that we accept Him. If we
do not an awful weight of guilt rests
upon us (Acts 2:34-37; 3:22, 23).
Paul sets an example in what he
preached worthy of all imitation by
modern missionaries and preachers.
Politics in Thessalonica were in a bad
enough way, but Paul went at the
root of things. God blessed this kind
of preaching. “Some of them be
lieved” (cf. 1 Thess. 1:5). This is
the usual result when the pure Gospel
Is preached in the power of the Holy
Ghost. In an epistle which Paul
wrote to them later we get a very
charming picture'of them (1 Thess.
1:6-10). Those who believed threw
in their lot with Paul and Silas. True
converts always seek the society of
other Christians. But the Gospel
caused division as well as union in
Thessalonica; union of believers, di
vision between believers and the
world. Paul's success aroused the
envy of the Jews. Every successful
preacher must expect to be envied of
smaller men. There was much truth
in the charge brought against Paul
and Silas. No other man ever did as
much to turn the world upside down
as this man Paul. There is great
need to-day of preachers who turn
things other side up. They accused
Paul, too, of “saying that there is an
other King, one Jesus.” Yes, Paul
said that, and it needs to be said
again and again to those who see no
king but some king of this earth.
Some day all must own His kingshio
(Ps. 2:8-12). But while Paul said
there was another king, he sought to
turn no man from his duty to Caesar
(Apts 25:8; Rom. 13:1-7). The per
secution did not go very far yet (r.
9) The converts were young and
God will not suffer apy of His chil
dren to he tempted above that which
they are able to bear (1 Cor. 10:13,
R. V.).
IT. Paul in Berea, 10-12. The
departure of Paul and Silas from
Thessalonica was no mark of coward
ice, but simole prudence and in ac
cordance with the specific directions
of Christ (Matt. 10:23). The church
did not go to pieces upon his depart
ure (1 Thess. 1:3-6). Paul did not
lose his interest in the converts he
left behind him (1 Thess. 2:18, 19;
3:1, 2, 5-7). As soon as Paul and
Silas reached Berea they at once be
gan preaching again, and to the Jews
at that. No matter how Paul and Si
las might be treated at one place, the
next town they struck thev went at
preaching again (comp. 1 Thess. 2‘:2;
Acts 14:5-7). No one ever had a bet
ter patent to nobility than these Be
reans. Their nobility is seen in two
things. First, “they received the
Word with all readiness of mind.”
They had a hunger for the truth, the
Word of God (comp. Job 23:12; Jer.
15:16; ch. 2:41). They opened their
mouths wide to receive it. Some peo
ple will receive the truth when you
compel them to. Lovers of the truth
are hungry for it. The Word of God
is worthy of such reception (Prov. 8:
10) Thus received it brings salva
tion and blessings (Jas. 1:21; 1 Pet.
2:2). Woe to the one who does not
receive it (2 Thess. 2:10-12). Sec
ond, “they searched (or examined)
the Scriptures daily, whether those
<Hings were bo.” They wanted to be
sure that they had the mind of God
about it, and the Scriptures were the
final authority. They were model Bi
ble students. (1) They studied the
Scriptures as the Word of God. (2)
They examined (R. V.) them. No
mere superficial scurrying over them
(3) They were systematic and regular
in their study, they examined the
Scriptures daily. (4) They studied
with a definite purpose, and that the
highest, to find out the truth about
the Christ, to'find if the things Paul
and Silas taught about Him “were
gr, ’»
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Delays are dangerous. There
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e unequaled. Pine
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For BACKACHE-WEAK KIDNEYS Try
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Be An Author
Don’t write a book; but when
there’s an addition to your family,
or you go away or come back, enter
tain or do anything else that you’d
like to know yourself if some one
else did it, write it on this blank and
get it to us as soon as possible, not
later than the day before this paper
is dated and we’ll tell it to every one
in the county and a few hundred out
of it.
If this isn’t enough paper, use
more. You must sign your name.
Please Publish the Following:
Name Here - ..
Because of the scarcity of fuel in
Argentina, a coper mining company
will build a twenty-mile transmission
line to convey only 100-horse power
from a hydro-electric plant.
