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IfOR OF SERVANT PROBLEM IN
Negroes Never Ending Source ol Fun—North Carolina Woman
Tells Amusing Stories ol Troubles They Take to Mistress....... j
By HELEN B. AMES.
L Vml lead a tame sort of a domes
fe up North,” declared my North
i Edith, speaking gen
irolina cousin, of
ally to the little group women I
d asked to meet her.
“Tame! •• they all cried in anything
L that tone.
[■Tame?'’ I echoed. “Do you call it
to have had five different shr
L ts iu as many weeks?”
[“Well.” she admitted ' “perhaps I
dn’t use the right word; I reckon
ram using’ was what I meant. If I
ver left home from one end of the
of tO the other, if I never opened
entertaining book. I’d still have
entv of amusement so long as I had
few darkies around.”
She leaned back in her chair and
[zed L into the fire. her I caught and the hoped rem
[thing e nt look in eyes
would happen to break the
(end of her thoughts. Jennie," she
[“You remember went
l turning to me. “It was she who
(ally wrecked ray first company din
L a fter my marriage. My husband
L told me that morning he wanted
[bring a business friend to dinner—
man whose impressions of Southern
ispitality might make a material
jference in our future. Jennie was
v waitress at the time, and a very
[tisfactory one, too, but right care
is about her appearance. I had in
cded having a simple black and
dite uniform made for her, but it
isn’t finished, so I told her of my
ospective guest and gently suggest
that she dress up a bit. She
kmed impressed.
“That evening, when I stepped into
le pantry to see if everything was
bitig smoothly, I didn't see anything
I Jennie.
•‘Where's Jennie?’ I asked the
ok.
I“‘She's gettin’ ready, m'm, and
It’s goin' to make you proud. Ah
(eked out her dress mahseif.’
Waitress in Ball Gown.
■“The cook's taste in wearing ap
krel didn’t exactly accord with mine,
r I couldn't think of anything Jen
|e had that was startling. Some
nat reassured on the only point that
ltd really bothered me, I went up
lairs and didn’t see Jennie until she
Ime to the door of the parlor to an
lunce dinner. I was talking to our
lest when I noticed his attention
ladering Irtled and heard him give a
exclamation. Following the
rsetion of his gaze, I saw Jennie
landing Ink in the doorway, regal in a
silk ball dress, a relic of my
li utante days that I had completely
frgotten le delicate having pinkness given her. the Above
of corsage
Ir neck rose like a tower of black
lErble. Jennie, seeing my fixed gaze
pd beamed. mistaking ‘Dinnah it for admiration, served,’ fair
I is said
k<\ with a grand manner that went
Ith the gown.
“ ‘Oh,’ whispered the at
man my
pe, where did you get the dusky
been? Until she spoke I thought
bu had engaged Black Patti to sing
|)' us.’
I" ‘Did you ever see anythihg more
petting pclaimed to hysterically, the dignity of when a hostess?’ I found
[v pmorous voice, view thankful of it. that My first he took feeling a
as one of wrath, but Jennie was so
[diculous psurd side standing there that the
of it soon overcame me,
N 1 explained it all to him a 3 we
ent in to dinner, and we had a good
ugh.
[ 1 couldn’t send Jennie off to
pange the dress then. It was too
[ firt te > her an d feelings. besides, I knew it would
keeping The sight of her
in and out of the room was
w much for our gravity, but we were
radually getting used to being wait
P on by such elegance, when sudden
r - as she was walking across the
D °m with a plate in either hand, she
Pipped on the train and fell with a
ash. 1 had to send her off then, in
! >te of her injured feelings, and get
essie. my little chambermaid, to
! a ‘ sh Jennie serving as best she could.
and Bessie both have had
, orm
- v matrimonial careers, but of
1 v ery different sort, The marriage
ie is not considered very binding in
■" negro settlement on Croton Hill,
nd I don’t remember how many
addings Jennie has had, but I shall
ever forget the first. Harry and I
ad just come back from our own
[ one a ' e >‘ bought n °on, and that I I suppose she must
would be a sym
at letic listener, for she confided to
e one da >' 33 she helping
was me
o-idiK my trousseau that she and
[. r s sister Friday were week, to have Miss a Edith, double if wed
Ve Ah
and nothin’ don’t happen.’ Jen
• ‘ abvayg added that—like she was
i'er mindful of the uncertainty of
•uman life.
“ liat ar e you going to wear,
ieaiiie?’ i asked her.
Vl a ' n 1 decdded m\n,’ she said,
bo’ longingly toward - the bed,
* eie my ow n wedding gown lay
.
out - Now, what’d you sell me
. four dress ,
for?’
“Busted" Bonds of Wedlork.
“I w >nted to shout, but I managed
niu rol myself and tell her that I
r , bought
I wanted to part with
ae !o °hcd so disappointed that
.
1 d fix her up a pretty white
', a some sort. Poor Jennie! I
vould have had my gown If
.* 'mve kept her husband for
, ' 1 ' sister wore some cast-off
■ Pr v of her mistress that must
‘ ,z; -led the eyes of ennie’s
j maegieom, for ua wi.!
he tted to Jennie than he decided he
had ipade a mistake, and persuaded
the sister to run off with him. The
natural course of events would have
been for Jennie and her deserted
, brother-in-law .. . , to have
between patched things
up them, but Jennie didn’t
tancy herself in the role of consoler.
Nor did she want sympathy herself,
a bhe . , felt , iV that it was
to have a great distinction
been ‘deserted at the altar,’
and the ie^t of Croton Hill must have
agreed with her, for she was the envy
of the place. It was quite a while,
however, before she condescended to
select a second husband.
Bessie, the chambermaid, be¬
longed to one of the best families in
the settlement. She was ‘a Croton of
Croton Hill, if you please.’ Her
mother was one of the best looking
women of her race I ever saw—
straight as a board, with a real nobil¬
ity of carriage. I always had a great
admiration for her. She worked un¬
complainingly for a troop of children,
while her husband used up all the
money he could get from her and
went on a drunken rampage every
w'eek or two. But with all her en
durance and good sense in many
things, Bessie's mother was foolish
about her daughter, Bessie was a
mighty poor servant, but she was a
pretty little yellow girl, with small
features, and when Brother Jones,
the new r preacher, saw her he thought
so, too. Bessie's mother considered
the preacher a great match for her
daughter—one befitting the worthy
name of Croton. He was a trim look¬
ing man—years older than Bessie—
and his gold rimmed spectacles and
clerical dress.must have inspired Bes
sie’s mother with confidence.
“We all sent Bessie a little some¬
thing, although none of us cared to
go to the wedding. As we sat out on
the porch that evening I was just
saying to my husband that Bessie
must be Mrs. Jones by this time,
when we heard a loud wrapping at
the back door and the sound of ex¬
cited whispers.
“ ‘Miss Edith, for de love o'
Heaven, whar are you all?’ called
Bessie's voice, and as we opened the
door there she stood in her be¬
draggled wedding finery, clinging to
the arm of- her mother, both of them
looking scared to death.
“ ‘Let us in quick, Miss Edith,’ she
begged. ‘Jim’s after us with a gun
and he’ll sure kill us if he gits us.’
Jim was the good for nothing hus¬
band and father. I knew his reputa¬
tion and trembled for the poor things
if he got hold of them in one of his
crazy sprees.
“I took them into the sitting room
and made them sit down wiiile I
brought them something to eat, for
they had run some distance. They
looked rather foolish and embar¬
rassed when they saw me coming into
the room with a tray, but I was will¬
ing to reverse the order of things
fqr once, because I didn’t want any
one else around the house to see
them.
Sheriff Gets Bridegroom.
“When they had rested a bit the
whole pitiful story came out. It
seems it was a case of a chase all
around. The sheriff was after Brother
Jones, and Jim was after them all.
Brother Jones had come dewn South
from New York ‘for his health,’ leav¬
ing a wife and a couple of children,
who were daily expecting him back.
They finally decided to hunt him and
wrote to the chief of police inquiring
for him. Brother Jones was by that
time a familiar figure about town,
and the officials knew their man as
soon as they read the description.
The sheriff set out to find him on the
very night of his wedding. It must
have been a dramatic moment—a
bride and bridegroom, just tied to¬
gether. suddenly torn apart by the
stern hands of the law. It was too
much for Jim, already half wild with
driuk as a result of the wedding sup¬
per, and as a very much subdued
Brother Jones went off to spend the
night in the calaboose Jim ran for
his gun, declaring he’d shoot hia wife
and eldest daughter if they didn’t get
out of his house right quick, Bessie
and her mother made for the open
in haste.
“Well, we kept them hidden that
night, and the next morning they ven¬
tured home to find Jim gone. Broth¬
er Jones’ New York wife must have
resigned all claim to him when she
heard about Bessie, for, although he
was put out of the church, the law
never prosecuted him further. It
didn’t take Bessie long to be recon¬
ciled to him, and Jim, when he re¬
covered from bisspree,seemed to have
forgotten his murderous chase, Broth
er Jones’ fall was a great one. In or
der to make a living he was obliged
to accept an interest in the garbage
business of his father-in-law, and his
dignified figure could be seen for
some time after riding on the slop
w-agon, Bessie at his side.
“The first time any of us ever saw
Bessie’s future husband was at a
amTmysel/ were'asked To' be judge's
able judges/ beg»
who presided, s where the bones
w>„.
person. I never was trouble
fore or since where I had such
: maintaining th necessarv dignity,
I After a hot uisc ussion the decision
referred —i ‘honorable
w&s to the
judges,^ and we told* them that of
course they would have to stay here,
because we couldn’t possibly get
along without them.
“Then they passed the plate around
tc the white folks. They did not
pass it to their own congregation, i
reckon they thought it wouldn’t be
safe. Each one of them tripped up
the aisle to the platform and dropped
his contribution into the plate with a
loud jingle. Those who were for¬
tunate enough to have their money
changed went up several times, drop¬
ping in one small coin each trip.
“My aunt had declared she wasn't
coming in, but one of the„old darkies
spied her peeking through the win¬
dow and called out: ‘Thar’s Miss
Jane lookin’ through de winde! Pass
the plate out to Miss Jane!’
A Truthful Eulogy.
“Speaking of Aunt Jane makes me
think of Sarah, who has lived with
Aunt Jane and her sister now for
nearly twenty years. Sarah’s one of
the family, and we’re all perfectly de¬
voted to her. I'd as soon think of
not speaking to one of the aunts when
I go over there as to overlook Sarah.
Although she has a good home she
has had her troubles. Her worst trial
was her worthless sister, Carrie.
Carrie was continually calling on
Sarah for help, and Sarah would no
sooner get her fixed up respectable
and think she had a little money
saved for herself when sister Carrie
would come whining around again.
We felt it a great blessing when
Carrie died. Sarah’s many friends
were anxious to help make Carrie’s
funeral elaborate to please the sister
who had striven so hard to make the
wayward one’s life easy. The sexton
of their church was the most gener¬
ous. Sarah confided to Aunt Harriet
that ‘the section’ had sent her ‘a
beautiful castor.’ She meant ‘casket,’
you know.
“We went to the funeral, not out
of any fondness for Carrie, but be
cause of our affection for Sarah. It
really was a handsome ‘castor,’ and
there was an array of flowers. All
Sarah’s friends came and sat on the
mourners’ bench, wailing and moan¬
ing during the eulogy. There wasn’t
much to say for poor Carrie, so the
preacher thought it wiser to confine
himself to the truth, but we were
quite unprepared for such a bald ex¬
posure as he gave us. ‘Some sez,’
said he, ‘Sister Carrie was a fool.
Praise Gawd! She was a fool!’
‘A-a-men!’ wailed the mourners,
Sarah among them. I knew I should
disgrace myself if I stayed, so I quiet¬
ly left.”—New York Tribune.
V } 5EJT1LIE' )
\\ V
i ormmpj
m 'S.
Yate wood of Australia has the
tensile strength of good cast iron.
The number of families in France
is estimated at 11,315,000, of which
1,804,720 have no children.
Three notorious hotel thieves, who
were dressed in black silk tights,
were taken red-handed as they were
collecting valuables in the bedrooms
of a San Remo (France) hotel oa a
recent evening.
The total electrical energy supplied
in London during the last year was
213,174,379 kilowatt hours.
The Greek community of Lowell
has elected a new president and board
of directors, and now plans a hospital
for the special benefit of its own
people.
The reported intention of London
traction lines to run cars exclusively
for working women has occasioned
talk of similar action by the New
York traction companies.
James Sherburne Weymouth, of
Laconia, N. H., is the last survivor
of a family of thirteen children,
twelve of whom lived to maturity and
had families. He has seen seven gen¬
erations of his maternal family.
The skin of muskrats is largely
made use of in the manufacture of
the cheaper grades of fur coats.
The mail clerks at the Turners
Falls postoffice have an original way
of serving the Polish speaking per
sons. Most of them have unpro
nounceable names, and after their
names are once on record they re¬
ceive numbers. Each person remem¬
bers his or her number.
For the Dope Fiends.
One of the tricks of the Hungarian
jockeys is to tie a clove of garlic
to their racers’ bits, when the horses
that run against them fall back the
moment they breathe the offensive
odor. It has been proved that no
horse will eat out of a trough if the
mouth of another steed in the stable
has been rubbed with the juice of
this plant I am surprised that out
home jockeys have not used this
Perhaps of stopping their opponents.
they have tried it without
sUlfwRh °one belonging to a
brother officer; mine fell away and
- --- - ~°
I mal, had recourse to horse’s this vile stratd- with
gem of rubbing his nose
[ garlic.‘—New Tork Press.
*\ Household /*
i % Matters. J I
Putting Salt in Lamps, *
Putting a tablespoonful of salt into
a kerosene lamp after filling it will
prevent the lamp from exploding, but
will not mar the lighting quality of
the oil.—New York World,
To Clean Ironware.
Take two tablespoonfuls of concen¬
trated lye to three quarts of water.
It will make pancake griddles like
new and the cakes will not stick. Set
the griddles or any vessel to be
cleaned where they will keep hot, but
not boil, for three or four hours.—.
New York World.
Durable Bubbles.
To make bubbles that can be blown
big and will last take a piece of pure
w-hite soap about the size of a walnut
and cut it up in a cupful of warm
water. Then add a teaspoonful of
glycerine. Stir well and blow from a
small pipe. Strawberry juice will
make pink bubbles, and orange juice
will make yellow ones.—Housekeeper.
To Clean Windows.
Wet a soft cloth in kerosene, then
polish with clean cloth.
Finger marks may be removed
from windows by putting a few drops
of ammonia on a moist cloth.
Mortar and paint may be removed
from windows with best sharp vine¬
gar.
Flower pot stains are removed
from window sills by rubbing them
with fine wood ashes and rinsing with
clean water.—Boston Post.
To Make Inexpensive Ties.
Take an old four-in-hand tie and
rip it apart carefully to get the pat¬
tern. I make them of pieces of light
print, white waist goods, gingham,
ehambray or silk and some of them
could not be distinguished from $1
ties. I use a single thickness of
white cotton to line the cotton ones,
but use flannelette for the silk ones.
They are easily laundered (do not
starch them) and will outwear a doz¬
en twenty-five-cent ties, besides they
look fresher and are so inexpensive
one can have a large variety to choose
from. Try it, especially if you have
boys in your family.—Boston Post.
Tea Cozies.
The “Old Maid” tea cozies are the
quaintest little affairs seen in an art
shop in a big city. They are built
upon the wire frames which resemble
lamp shade frames, and are bought
for hat rests.
Upon one of these is mounted the
quaintest little terra cotta head, with
liair .drawn plainly back into a 'snug
knot, and with features kindly, but
unmistakably of the spinster type.
The wire frame, which simulates a
hoop skirt, is first padded, then plied
with layers of beruffled organdie. It
is a clever novelty, and has figured
with popularity as the consolation
prize at bridge parties.—Indianapolis
News.
Jellied Chicken.
Take a large chicken, and after
carefully cleaning and washing it, cut
it up as though going to stew it.
Then place the pieces on a fn'eat
board, and pound them with a potato
header until all the flesh is mashed
and the bones thoroughly crushed.
Place them in a double boiler and
po ui- over them one quart of filtered
cold water, Stir in one level tea
spoonful of salt, fill the lower part of
the double boiler with cold water, and
set it where the water will boil.
From time to time open the upper
part of the double boiler where the
chitken is, and stir it round. Add
no more water to the chicken, but
fill the lower part from time to time
as the water boils away, , always
adding boiling water after the water
has begun- to boil the first time. Let
the chicken cook at least six hours,
then take it off and strain through a
fine sieve into a bowl, Set away to
cool. When cold skim off the grease,
whie’i will rise to the top. Under
neath you will find a clear hard jelly.
This may be served cold, a table
spoonful at a time, chopped fine; or
it may be warmed into a soup, a little
at a t . for invalids.—American
Home Monthly.
Recipes.
Bread Pic.—A good way to use old
bread. Crumb the bread and soak iu
milk; sweeten to suit taste; flavor
with nutmeg, lemon or chocolate; dot
with scraps of butter; hake without
top crust and ice the top after baking.
Mot Biscuits.—Put a little salt and
five teaspoons cream tartar and two
teaspoons soda (leveled off with a
knife) iuto cue quart of flour and
sift. Chon in one-half cup lard and
add sweet milk to make the right
consistency to roll out, rather soft.
It will take about one pint. Bake ill
a quick oven.
Cottage Pie.—Chop cold meat very
fine, boil and mash some potatoes, to
every cup of meat add one-half tea¬
spoon salt, a liitle pepper, one tea
spoon of finely chopped cooked onion
and one-half cup of gravy or stock.
Put the me: t. seasoning and gravy in
a baking >1: , 1 , with the mashed
potatoes and j in hot oven until
golden brown.
Baked Ham.—Soak a ham in cold
water o’. ;ar night; trim it neatly and
__ of
CO v ail over with a thick crust
iiour and water; : bake slowly eight
hours;* remove the crust and skin;
cover the top with fine cracker
cr niace ia the oven until the
cm i; are row r n. When cold cut in
t!iit) slices.
THE PULPIT.
AN ELOQUENT SUNDAY SERMON BY
DR. WILLIAM J. THOMPSON.
"a
Subject: The Ascension
Brooklyn, N. Y.—In the Simpson
M. E. Church Sunday morning, the
pastor, the Rev. Dr. William J.
Thompson, preached on “The Ascen¬
sion.” The text was from Luke
24:51: "And it came to pass, while
He blessed them. He was parted from
them and carried up to heaven.” Dr.
Thompson said:
Concerning the crucifixion the
Scripture gives month, day, hour,
participants—much minutiae. Con¬
cerning the resurrection no mention
is made of the first heart-beat, only
the fact of the empty tomb and the
risen Saviour. Still meagre is the
account of the ascension.
The length of these narratives in¬
dicates our limited knowledge. Death
so common would have fullest men¬
tion. The resurrection, contrary to
all experience, would admit simply
the fact supported by “infallible
signs.” The ascension, contrary to
the one law we believe to prevail
throughout the universe—gravitation
—and the entrances into the spirit
realm which baffles the imagination
of embodied spirits, would call for
the least mention.
Their importance, however, Is In¬
versely as the length of the narra¬
tive. Death in Itself is failure, the
resurrection declares Jesus to be the
Son of God with power. The ascen¬
sion to the right hand of God pro¬
claims Him the ever-reigning su¬
preme sovereign.
The eagle-winged tyrant, death,
spreads over the whole earth, palls
God’s last and best creation in his
Insatiable conquest; wrenches from
the human soul the organ of all its
intelligent and spiritual expressions
•—the body, and dooms it with “dust
to dust.” Jesus Christ, the mighty
Prince of Life, conquered this
conqueror!
Our loudest Easter hosannas are
to His praise for this unrivaled
achievement. This triumph, how¬
ever, mighty as it is, is but a part
of His life. Like the figures of arith¬
metic, depending for their richness
on what follows, so the glories of
Easter depend on what follows in the
life of Christ.
Napoleon Bonaparte used Maren¬
go, Austerlitz and other victories as
stepping stones to reach the dizzy
heights of military power; where he
swayed the sceptre from the Baltic
to Southern Italy, and allied contig¬
uous nations as vassals or dependent
states. He stood with his armies
upon the Alps and exclaimed: “Han¬
nibal Is surpassed!” He led these
soldiers beneath the pyramids with
“Forty centuries look down upon
you.” France saluted him with:
“Sire, your greatness is like that of
the universe.” If Napoleon had died
before June 18, 1815, a glamor of
glory would have encircled his whole
career. But his life after this, with
the defeat of Waterloo and five and
one-half years in exile, leveled the
summit of his greatness.
We are not without concern for
our ex-presidents, lest some ill deed
militate against their record in the
high office. Some grains of comfort
are extracted from our three mar¬
tyred presidents, all of whom were
snatched from us in the zenith of
their fame, a fact which shed glory
over their whole lives. Jesus Christ
disarmed death of its mortal sting
and led the powers of darkness cap¬
tive. Yet some subsequent event
could detract from the glory of this
high triumph. So the setting of
Christ In our faith hinges upon what
follows His death and resurrection.
If Jesus had remained in Jerusa¬
lem, as His disciples hoped for, ves¬
sels from the four ends of Christen¬
dom would have congested the ports
nearest that city with deputations to
visit Jesus as judge, divider, benefac¬
tor, thereby weakening their faith
and enervating them in working out
their own salvation. The most stal¬
wart fibre in Christian manhood
comes from largest faith and zeal in
self-culture, and this could not be
favorably produced everywhere with
Jesus localized. Men everywhere
should have equal divine assistance
in having right hearts, speaking ac¬
ceptable words, and doing justly. To
this end Jesus must be spiritually
present in the world and consequent¬
ly bodily withdraw. While the lus¬
tre of Jesus would have shone un¬
diminished had He remained on
earth, yet to reach His maximum
effulgence it was expedient that He
go away. Man's complete salvation
and the glory of Christ concurred in
this departure. Our faith is
involved in His destination.
His departure. The farewell ad¬
dress of George Washington was im¬
portant in his estimation as well as
in that of his soldiers and posterity.
A farewell address would be valu¬
able and fitting for all our presidents
to close their administration. Our
farewells are the utterances of our
best selves. This is foreshadowed
by its typical formulas. “Fare-ye
well.” “God be with you,” abbrevi¬
ated to “Good-by.” The farewell of
Jesus has the same relative impor¬
tance. He takes leave of the world
that clamored for His blood and had
glee over its shedding. Mark you.
“He lifted up His hands and blessed
them.” Thus His valedictory Is in
the same exalted level as all that pre¬
cedes and our faith holds high in the
risen and departed Christ.
He departs not in darkness but in
the light of day; not in the valley
but from Olivet’s top; not alone but
in the view of His disciples. He had
withdrawn many times before, this
time He ascends. “While He blessed
them. He was parted from them and
carried up into heaven.” Shortly
after Stephen, the first martyr, looked
up and said: “Behold, I see the heav¬
ens opened and the Son of Man at
the right hand of God.” Some time
after Paul had a vision of Jesus in
heaven; likewise did John. Satan,
the defiler, was hurled headlong from
heaven* Nothing that defileth en
tereth therein. Elijah, a pattern of
pietv, 'the whose mantle holy men covet
ed chariot of the Lord carried
thither, and Enoch, who walked with
God, was taken there. Jesus ascend
ed to heaven, the abode of tHe good
I for all ages.
i Fir therm ore, the wlicie company
of prophets, sages, kings and mighty
men of God, are In that great com¬
pany whose number no man can num¬
ber, yet Christ sits at the right hand
with a name above every name and
all powers and principalities at His
feet. This exaltation — His through
all time—enriches all His past, makes
the land on which He lived to us
holy, His precepts priceless and gives
the largest satisfaction and fullest
fruition to our faith.
The ascension of Christ pays honor
to the body. The third article of our
religion is “Christ did truly rise
again from the dead and took again
His body, with all things appertain¬
ing to the perfection of man’s na¬
ture, wherewith He ascended into
heaven and there sitteth until He
return to judge all men at the last
day.” Pestilences are not from Him.
Disease, making the body, as Pope
declares his, an “apparatus of tor¬
ture,” is no more from God than
the disease of the soul. Jesus cured
both and inflicted neither. The body
designed to be an instrument of
righteousness must he strong. To
be strong it must be nourished by
pure air, pure water, pure food. Even
if these be secured by legislation,
the legislation should compass the
hygiene of homes, offices and facto¬
ries, the prohibition both of overtax¬
ing hours for women and the slaying
of childhood upon Mammon’s altar.
The wounded are to be healed. More,
the road between Jerusalem and Jeri¬
cho so patrolled as to make wounds
from robbers impossible. Not only
is disease to be cured, but the cause
i3 to be removed.
Christ’s ascension confirms our
hopes of immortality. We have a
twofold origin. First, the physical,
from Adam. Like myriads of his de¬
scendants who have lived before us,
we see how our bodies will dissolve
into the dust. Our spiritual commu¬
nion with God the Father, our pass¬
ing from death to life in love for the
brethren. This is our creation anew
In the second Adam, Christ Jesus.
As that which bore the image of the
first Adam follows Him, so that in
us which bore the image of the sec¬
ond Adam will follow Him.
If there were no continuation of
this life after death, Christ says: “I
would have told you so.” No pro¬
visos concerning its terribleness—“I
would have told you so.” “I go to
prepare a place for you; that where
I am, there ye may be also.” Christ's
ascension describes our pathway be¬
yond the grave, and where He is,' all
the spirits of just men made perfect
will be al3o. The ascension of Christ’
gives most emphatic confirmation of
our of the life
Joy from the ascension of Christ.
These men had parted from their
teacher, the prince among teachers,
the friend of friends. His hands
would no more be laid upon them in
benediction. No more would His
voice be heard. They were the suf¬
ferers of the most irreparable loss.
Thus bereft, their task was to dis¬
ciple all nations composed of hostile
peoples, eager to persecute them with
death torture. Oh, the agony of
their despair! Yet they “returned
to Jerusalem with great joy.” Abun¬
dant must have been their ascension
joy to have absorbed their grief.
His words to them were “all power
Is given to me.” Wickedness would
be annihilated by His omnipotent
grace. The assurance of the fruition
of your supreme desire gives great
joy. The supreme desire of these
who were trained by’Him who is full
of grace and truth would be the de¬
struction of evil and the enthrone¬
ment of good. The assurance of this
consummation by Him of almighty
power filled them with joy.
Joy comes from power. Govern¬
ment is said to have its origin in
man’s desire to govern rather than
to be governed. The successful can¬
didate flushed with power is Joyful.
All the power of our ancestors
meets in us and must obey our be¬
hest which may be “thus far.” The
Dark Ages said this and arrested pro¬
gress, or if further, which we of the
twentieth century say, the labors of
the race are transmitted to the en¬
richment of posterity. These dis¬
ciples tense with the power of Him
by which they can do all things, were
joyful. But when it is from the
power that turns carnal kingdoms
into those of eternal love, its inten¬
sity and duration is fullest. This
was the source of the disciples’ joy.
They “continually praised and blessed
God.”
We may be the depository of the
spiritual power of twenty Christian
centuries. We may exercise it to
make the world purer, juster, holier.
The pathway of the ascended Christ
may be the trial of our own spirits
to ineffable glory. Under the do¬
minion of these convictions as it is
our privilege and duty to be, we ex¬
perience with the disciples the great
ascension joy and will like them
“continually praise and bless God.”
Broken Tilings.
The flower that is crushed and
broken oft exhales the sweetest per¬
fume.
The shafts of sunlight broken re¬
veal God’s precious bow in the cloud.
The little clinging tendrils are
broken, but the branch yields richer
fruit.
The precious alabaster box was
broken, but Christ was honored.
The threads of the loom are
broken, that the pattern may be com¬
plete.
Tiny broken bits of glass in the
hands of a master artist make a
grand cathedral window.
Broken notes of music combine to
make a perfect chord.
The broken bread tells the Chris¬
tian of a Body broken for his sake.
The broken words of a first
breathed prayer brought blessing to
those who heard.
W’hat of the broken plans, the
broken ambitions, the sufferings and
losses and crosses of a broken life?
In the hands of the Divine Artist
they shall mean rarest fragrance—
buds of promise, richer fruit, honor
to the King of kings, a perfect pat¬
tern.
“Unto them that are of a broken
heart the Lord is nigh.”
hpnng . of rower,
God working mightily in the fail¬
man heart is the spring of all abiding
spiritual power; and it is only as men
follow out the sublime promptings of
the inward spiritual life that they do
' great things for God.—David Living
‘