Newspaper Page Text
]!EV. DR. TA I. MAGE.
THE BROOKLYN DIVINE'S SUN
DAY SERMON.
Subject: “Docs Religion Prolong
Pile.”
Text : “ With long life will l satisfy
■him." —Fsalms xci,, 16.
Through the mistake of its friends religion
has bet a chieliy associated with sick beds ai*d
graveyards. The whole subject to many
people is odorous with chlorine and carbolic
acid. There are. people who cannot pro
nounce the word relig on without hearing in
it the clipping chisel of the tombstone cut
ter. It is high tme that this thing were
changed and that religion, instead of being
represented as a hearse to carry out the dead,
should he repres nte l as a chariot in u hi-h
the living are tojtriumph_
Religion, so far from subtracting from
one s vitality, is a glorious addition. It is
sanative, curative, hygienic. It is good for
the eyes, good for the ears, goo.l for the
spleen, good for the digestion, good for the
nerves, good for the muscles. AYhen David,
in another part of the Psalms, prays that re
ligion may be dominant he does not speak of
it as a mild sickness, or an emaciation, or an
attack of moral and spiritual cramp; he
speaks of it as “the saving health of all na
tions;' 1 while God. in the text, promises
longevity to the pious, saying; “AV ith long
life will I satisfy him.”
Tne fact is that men and women die too
soon. It is high time that religion joined the
hand of medical science in attempting to im
prove human longevity. Adam lived nine
hundred and thirty years. Methuselah lived
nine hundred and sixty-nine years. As late
in the history of the world as Vespasian,
there were at one time in his empire forty
five people one hundred and thirty-five years
old. bo far down as the Sixteenth century,
Peter Zartan died at one hundred and eighty
five years of age. Ido not say that religion
will ever take the race back to ante-diluvian
longevity, but Ido say the length of human
life will be greatly improved
It is sai l in Isaiah: “The child shall die a
hundred years old.” Now, if according to
Scripture the child is to be a hundred years
old, may not the men and women reach to
three hundred and four hundred and five
hundred? The fact is that we are mere
dwarfs and skeletons compared with some of
the generations that are to come. Take the
African race. They have been under bond
age for centuries. Give them a chance and
they develop a Frederick Douglass or a Tous
saint, L’Ouverture. And if the white race
shall be brought from under the serfdom of
sin, what shall be the bodvl What shall be
the soul' Religion has only just touched our
world. Give it full power for a few centuries,
and who can tell what will be the strength
of man and the beauty of woman and the
longevity, of all.
My design is to show that practical re
ligion is the friend of long life. I prove it,
first, from the fact that it makes the care of
our health a positive Christian duty.
Whether we shall keep early or late hours,
whether we shall take food digestible or in
digestible, whether there shall be thorough or
incomplete mastication, are questions very
often deferred to the realms of whimsicality;
but the Christian man lifts this whole
problem of health into the accountable and
the divine. Ho says: “God has given me
this bo !y, and He has called it the temple of
the Holy Ghost, and to deface its altars or
mar its walls or crumble its pillars is a God
defying sacrilege.”
He sees Pod s caligraphy in every page—
anatomical and physiological. He says:
“God has given me a wonderful body for
noble purposes.”
That arm with thirty-two curious hones
wielded by forty-six curious muscles, and all
under the brain’s telegraphy; 350 pounds of
blood rushing through the heart every hour,
the heart in twenty-four hours beating 100-,
000 times, during the twenty-four hours
overcoming resistances amounting to 234,-
000,006 pounds of weight, during the same
time the lungs taking in fift} - -seven hogs
heads of air, and all this mechanism not
more mighty than delicate and easily dis
turbed and demolished.
The Christian man says to himself: “If I
hurt my nerves, if 1 hurt my brain, if I hurt
any of niv physical faculties I insult God and
call for dire retribution.” AYhy did God tell
the Levites not to offer to him in sacrifice
animals imperfect and diseased? He meant
to tell us in all the ages that we are to offer
■to God our very best physical condition, and
a man who through irregular or gluttonous
eating ruins his heaitli is not offering to God
such a sacrifice. Why did Paul write for his
cloak at Troas? AYhy should such a great
man as Paul be anxious about a thing so in
significant as an overcoat? It was because
he knew that with pneumonia and rheuma
tism he would not be worth half as much to
Go 1 and the church as with respiration easy
aud foot free.
An intelligent Christian man would con
sider it an absurdity to kneel down at night
and pray an d ask God’s protection while at
the same time he kept the windows of his
bed l oom tight shut against fresh air. He
would just as soon think of going out on the
bridge between New York and Brooklyn,
leaping off and then praying to God to keep
him from getting hurt. Just as long as you
defer this whole subject of physical health to
the realm of whimsicality or to the pastry
cook or to the butcher or to the baker or to
the apothecary or to the clothier, you are not
acting like a Christian. Take care of all
your . physical forces—nervous, muscular,
bon -, brain cellular tissue —for ail you must
be brought to judgment.
Smoking your nervous system into fidgets,
burning out the coating of your stomach
with wine logwooded and strychnined, walk
ing with thin shoes to make j our feet look
delicate, pinched at the waist until j'ou are
well nigh cut in two, and neither part worth
anything, groaning about sieh headache and
palpitation of the heart, which you think
came from God, when they came from your
own folly. '
AYliat right has any man or woman to de
face the temple of the Holy Ghost? AViiat is
the ear? Why, it is the whispering gallery
of the human soul. AYliat is the eye: It is
the observatory God constructed, its tele
scope sweeping the heavens. AYhat is the
hand? An instrument so wonderful that
when the Farl of Bridgewater beque ,thed in
his will $30,000 for treatises to be written on
the wisdom, power and goodness of God,
Bir Charles Bell, the great English anato
mist and surgeon, found his greatest illus
tration in the construction of tho human
hand, devoting his whole book to that sub
ject. So wonderful are these bodie> that
God names his own attributes after different
parts of them. His omniscience—it is God’s
ej*e. His omnipresence—it is God s ear. His
omnipotence—it is God's arm. The uphol
stery of the midnight heavens —it is the work
of God's fingers. His life giving power—it
is the breach of the Almighty. His do
minion—“the government shall be upon ids
shoulder.” A bodj’ so divinely honored and
so divinely constructed, let us be careful not
to abuse it.
AA’hen it becomes a Christian duty to take
care of our health, is not the whole tendency
toward longevity? If I toss my watch about
recklessly and drop it on the pavement and
wind it up anv time of day or night I hap-*
ppn to think of it, and often let it run down,
while you are careful with your watch and
ne\er abuse it and wind it up just at the
same hour every night and put in a place
where it will not suffer from the violent
changes of atmosphere, which watch will last
the longer? Common sens* answers. Now
the human body is God's watch. You see
the hands of tiie watch, you see the face of
the watch, but the beating of tiie heart is
the ticking of the watch. Oh, be careful
and do not let it run down!
Again. I remark that practical religion is
a friend of longevity in the fact that it is a
Srote't against dissipations which injure and
estroj- the health. Bad men and women
live a very short life. Their sins kill them.
I know hundreds of good old men, but Ido
not know half a dozen bad old men. AA'liy?
They do not get old. Lord Byron died at
Missolonghi at thirty six j'ears of age, him
self his own Mazeppa. his unbridled passions
the horse that dashed with him into the
desert. Edgar A. Poe died at Baltimore at
thirty-eight years of age. The black raven
that alightei on the bust above his chamber
door was delirium tremens —
Only this and nothin* more.
Nnoole >n Bonaparte live 1 only just beyond
midlife, then died at St Helena, and one of
h s doctors said that his disease was induced
bv excessive snuffing. The hero of Auster
litz. the man who by one step of his foot in
the i enter of Europe shook th=> earth, killed
by a snuff box. Ob. how munv peop’e we
have known who have not lived oi.it half !
their days because of their dissipations and !
indulgences! Now practical religion is a
protest against all dissipation of any kind.
“But.” yojt jsav, “professors .of religion
have fallen, pro’essors of nlgion have got
drunk, professors of religion have misanpro*
priate l trust funds, professors of religion
have absconded." Yes: bat tbev threw away
their religion b-fore they did their morality.
If a man on a White Star line steamer bound
tor Liverpool in mid-Atlantic iutnns over- !
board and is drowned, is that anything !
aga nst the White Star line's capacity to take I
the man across the ocean’ And if a man !
in runs over th° gunwale of bis religion and
goes down never to rise, is that any reason
for vour believing that religion has no capa
city to take the man clear throughi In the
one case if he had kept to the steamer his
body would have been saved; in the other
case, if he had kept to his religion his morals
would have been saved.
There are aged people who would have
been drad twenty-five rears ago but for the
defences and the equipoise of religion. You
have no more natural resistance than hun
dreds of reople who lie in the cemeteries to
day. slain by their own vices. The doctors
made their case as kind and pleasant as they
could, and it was called congestion of the
brain, or something else, but the snakes and
the blueflies that seemed to crawl over the
pillow in the sight of the delirious patient
showed what was the matter with him. You,
the aged Christian man, walked along by
that unhappy one until you came to the
golden pillar of a Christian life. That is all
the difference between vou. Oh. if this re
ligion is a protest against all forms of dissi
pation. then it is an illustrious friend of
longevity. “With long life will I satisfy
him.”
Again, religion is a friend of longevity in
the i act that it takes the worry out of our
! temporalities. It is not work that kills men,
it is worry. When a man becomes a genuine
Christian he makes over to God not onlv h s
affections bu his family, his business, his
reputation, his body, his m nd, his soul—
everything. Industrious lie will be, hut
never worrying, because God is managing
his affairs. How can he worry about busi
ness when in answer to his prayers God tells
him when to buy and when to se 1: and if he
gain that is best, and if he lose that is best?
Suppose you had a supernatural neighbor
who came in and said: “Sir, 1 want you to
call on me in every exigency; I an your fast
friend; I could fallback on -F.’O.OJO.OOO; [can
foresee a panic ten years; I hold the control
ling stock in thirty of the best monetary in
stitutions of New York; whenever you are
in trouble call on me and 1 will help vou,
you can have my money and you can have
my influence; here is my hand in pledge for
it.” How much would you worry about
business? Why, you would say: “I'll do the
best I can, and then I'll depend ou my
friend's generosity for the rest.”
Now more than that is promised to every
Christian business man. God says to him:
“I own New York and London and St.
Petersburg and Pekin, and Australia and
California are mine; 1 can foresee a panic a
million years; I have all the resources of the
universe, and I am your fast friend-, when
you get in business trouble or any other
trouble, call on me and I will help; here is
my hand" in pledge of omnipotent deliver
ance.” How much should that man worry?
Not much. What lion will dare to put Ins
paw on that Daniel? Is there not rest in
this? Is there not an eternal vacation in
this?
“Oh,” you say, “here is a man who asked
God for a biessing in a certain enterprise,
and he lost five thousand dollars in it. Ex
plain that.” I will. Yonder is a factory,
and one wheel is going north and the other
wheel is going south, and one wheel plays
laterally and the other plays vertically. I
go to the manufacturer and 1 say: “O manu
facturer, your machinery is a contradiction.
I Why do vou not make all the wheels go one
I way ? ” “Well,” he says, “I made them to go in
\ opposite directions on purpose, and they pro
, duce the right result. You go downstairs
; and examine the carpets we are turning out
in this establishment and you will see.” I
go down on the other door and I see
the carpets, and I am obliged to confess that
though the wheels in that factory go in op
,! posite directions they turn out a beautiful re
| suit; and while I am standing there looking
: at the exquisite fabric an old Scripture
i passage comes into my mind: “All things
I work together for good to them who love
{ God.” Is there not rest in that? Is there
not tonic in that? Is there not longevity' in
that?
Suppose a man is all the time worried
about his reputation. One man savs lie lies,
another says he is stupid, another says he is
dishonest, and half a dozen printing estab
lishments attack him, and he is in a great
state of excitement and worry and fume, and
cannct sleep; but religion comes to him and
says: “Man, God is on your side: he will
take care of your reputation; if God be for
you, who can be against you' How much
should that man worry about his reputation?
Not much. If that broker who some years
ago in AYall street, after he had lost money,
sat down and wrote a farewell let
ter to his wife before he blew his
brains out—if instead of taking out of his
pocket a pistol he had taken out" a well read
New Testament th ire would have been one
less suicide. Oh, nervous and feverish people
of tiie world, try this almighty sedative.
You will live twenty-five years longer under
its soothing power. It is not chloral that
you want, or morphine that j'ou want; it is
the Gospel of Jesus Christ. “With longlife
will I satisfy him.’’
Again, practical religion is a friend of
longevity in the fact that it removes ail cor
roding care about a future existence. Every
man wants to know what is to become of
him. If you get on board of a rail train j'ou
want to know at what depot it is going to
stop: if j’ou get on board a ship vou want to
know into what harbor it isgoingto run. and
if you shall tell me you have no interest in
what is to he your future destiny, 1 would in
as polite a way as I knew how tell you I did
not believe you. Before 1 had this matter
settled with reference to my future existence
the question almost worried me into ruined
health. The anxieties men have upon this
subject put together would make a martyr
dom. This is a state of awful unhealthiness.
There are people who fret themselves to death
for fear of dying.
I want to take the strain off your nerves
nnd the depression off j'our soul, and I make
two or three experiments. Experiment first:
AYhen you go out of this world it does not
make anj' difference whether j’ou have been
good or bad, or whether you ’believed truth
or error, you will go straight to glory. “Im
possible,” j*ou say; “my common sense as
well as iny religion teaches that the bad and
the good cannot live together forever. You
give me no comfort in that experiment.”
Experiment the second: When you leave this
world you will go into an' intermediate
state where you can get converted
and prepared for heaven. “Impossible.” j'ou
say: “as the tree falieth so it must lie, and
I cannot postpone to an intermediate state
reformation which ought to have been ef
fected in this state. - ’ Experiment, the third:
There is no future world, when a man dies
that is the last of him. Do not worry about
what j’ou are to do in another state of being;
you will not do mij’ihing. “Impossible,”
you say: '-there is something that tells me
that death is not the appendix, but the pref
ace; there is something that tells me that on
this side of the grave I only get started, and
that I shall go on forever; my power to
think says ‘forever,' mj’ affections say ‘for
ever,’ my capacity to enjoy or suffer, ‘for
ever.’ ”
AYe!l, you defeat me in my three experi
ments. I have only one more to make, and
if you defeat me in’that lam exhausted. A
mighty One on a knoll back of Jerusalem one
da>- the skies tilled with forked lightnings
ami the earth filled with volcanic disturb
ances—turned His pale and agonized t'aed
toward the havens and said: “I take the
sins and sorrow? of the ages into my own
heart. lam the expiation. AYitness earth
and heaven anl hell, I am the expiation.”
And the hammer struck him, and the sp -ars
punctured him, and heaven thundered: "The
wages of sin is death!” "The soul that sin
neth it shall die!” “I will by no means
clear the guilty?” Then there was si
lence for half an hour, and the light
nings were drawn back into the scab-!
bard of the sky, and the earth ceased j
to quiver, and all the colors of the sky i
began to shift themselves into a rainbow j
woven out of the fallen tear; of Jesus, and j
there was red as of the blood shedding, and
there was blue as of the bruising, and there
was green as of the heavenly foliage, and
there was orange as of tin day dawn. And
along the line of the blue I saw the words:
“I was braised for their iniquities.” And
along the line of the red I saw the words:
“The blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth from
all sin.” And along the line of the green I
saw the words: “The leaves of the tree of
life for the healing of all nations.” And
alongtheline of the orange I saw the words:
“ The day' spring from on high hath visited
us.”
And then I saw tho storm was over, and !
tne rainbow rose higher and higher, until ft
seemed retreating to another heaven, and
planting one column of its colors on one side
the eternal hill and planting the other column
of its colors on the other side of the eternal
hill, it rose upward and upward, “and behold
there was a rainbow about the throne.”
Accept that quit worrying.
Take the tonic, the inspiration, the longevity
of this truth. Religion is sunshine, that is
health. Religion is fresh air and pure
water, they are healthv. Religion is warmth,
that is healthy. Ask ali the doctors and
they will tell you that a quiet conscience and
pleasant anticipations are hygienic. I offer
you perfect peace now and hereafter.
What do you want in the future world?
Tell me, and you shall have it. Orchards?
There are the trees with twelve manner of
fruits, yelding fruit every month. V\ ater
scenery? There is the River of Life, from
under the throne of God, clear as crystal,
and the sea of glass mingled with fire. Do
you want music? There is the oratorio of
the Creation led on by Adam, and the orato
rio of tiie Red Sea led on by Moses, and the
oratorio of the Messiah led on by St. Paul,
while the archangel with swinging baton
controls the one hundred and forty-four
thousand who make up the nr-kestra.
, Do you want reunion ? There are your
dead children waiting to kiss you, waiting to
j embrace y r ou, waiting to twist garlands in
j your hair. You have tieen accustomed to
open the door on this side of the sepulchre. I
open the door on the other side of tho sepul
chre. You have been accustomed to walk in
the wet grass on the top of the grave. I show
you the under side of the grave: the bottom
has fallen out, and the lon , ropes with which
the pall bearer let down your dead let them
clear through into heaven.
Glory be to Ged for this robust, healthy
religion. It will have a tendency to make
you live long in this world, and in the world
to come you will have eternal life. “With
long life will I satisfy him.”
BROTHER AM) SISTER ON A TRASH’.
After a Long A’oyage in a Skiff They
were AA’recked.
The police last night arrested under
peculiar circumstances a couple who
claim to be brother and sister. They
gave their names’as AA’illiam and Jessie
Green and their ages as 29 and 20 years
respectively. Both are coarse looking,
with many days’ dust on their faces and
hands. Their arrest was made in this
way.
About 8 o'clock they went into Oster
liolt’s saloon, on South Fourteenth
street, the woman wearing male attire
and holding her head down as though
to hide her face. Her pants were baggy
and hung loosely, and the coat and vest
seemed several sizes to large. Her hair
was cut short atid was covered with a
greasy old cap. Her companion said
that they had tramped a long distazj.ee
and that they were both tired and hun
gry. Anton Bagel, a butcher, doing
business at 14H4 Clark avenue, was in
the saloon and hearing the touching
story, requested the pair to accompany
him to the house, adding that he would
give them supper. They went with him,
and after giving them plenty to eat, Ba
gel proceeded to bundla up a lot of
bread and meat, so that the}' could
carry enough to last them another day.
He happened to look at the woman
while bundling supplies, and after study
ing her features for a few seconds he
asked if she was not a.woman. She de
nied her sex at first, but admitted later
that her attire was not becoming to her
sex. She was then turned over to Airs.
Bagel while he went out to look for a
policeman, being satisfied that there was
something wrong.
Sergeant Worcester visited the house
and arrived there just as she completed
the transformation, throwing off' her
coat, vest and trousers, and donning a
dress and other garments given her by
Airs. Bagel. The pair were then taken
to the Four Courts and locked up to
await the result of a further investiga
tion. They said they were brother and
sister, and that they had not done any
thing wrong. The woman said she w ore
masculine attire because it was more
convenient than petticoats and other
cumbersome garments. The man who
claims to be her brother then ma le a
long statement to Sergeant Lang. He
said that lie left Omaha la«t August lor
tiie purpose of coming to this city.
“Aly sister had been working at the
Emmet House,’’ lie said, “and I had
been working at my trade. AA'hen we
concluded to ’come here we had hut lit
tle money, and we concluded to buy a
boat and come by river. AA’e left in Au
gust and stopped at every town and vil
lage along the Missouri until we reached
Glasgow, AIo., last December. The ice
was tlioji running and we concluded to
stop until it went out. AA’liile we were
there the river froze over and we had to
wait a long time. I worked then on a
bridge aud supported my sister, but
I could not save anything. AYe left
when we hud a chance to navigate, and
we got along nicely until we reached Au
gusta, when our boat capsized, throw
ing everything into the river. I had to
rescue my sister, aud whiie doing it tore
off most of her clothes. As she had noth
ing else, I gave her an old suit I had
saved. AA’e tramped here from Augusta,
which is about thirty-five miles from the
city.”
He told of many incidents connected
with their trip, but he insisted that liis
sister had no -wrong motive in wearing
clothes unbecoming to her sex.
The woman Avas reluctant to make any
statement, but in rep’y to questions cor
roborated her companion’s f statement,
excepting that portion concerning her
attire. Hhe said she began wearing
men’s clothes soon after she left Omaha,
because her own attire was a nuisance
to her and her brother. Both hi d diaries
giving a history of their trip, w’ith the
incidents of each day since they left.
The police thought that it must be a
runaway match and concluded to hold
them. The pair had no objections as
they were both very tired and travel
stained, the v'oman complaining of sore
feet and her companion of a cold.
LILLIE EDELES;
OR,
iBICM BI TIE BOSH
WHACKERS.
A Story of the War in
the Southwest.
•
BY ARVIDE 0. BALDWIN.
CHAPTER IV.
THE ESCAPE.
Fart of the roof at the rear of the hut
had succumbed to the weather and had fal
len in. As the darkies crawled up aud stuck
their wooly heads above the split beards
that covered the roof the sun was beginning
to tinge the tops of tho trees. In their
depths could dimly be seen the horses
cropping the thin grass that grew among
them.
The plan they had decided upon was a
bold one, and hardly seemed probable of
being a success; but, neveitheless, death was
preferable to the hard life in the cotton
fields along the river, and as neither had
ever labored in the fields it would have
been beyond their endurance to do so now’.
They w’ere house servants in the Eddies
mansion, aud their position was easy, and
now their great hope was once more to get
back to where they had been so kindly
treated, and to what was in reality to them
a home.
Sylva, who appeared to be the bravest of
the two, took upon herself to do the more
dangerous part. She told her companion
to be ready, and, -when she saw that she
had secured the horses' bridles, to climb
out of the roof and let herself down and
crawl into the brush that grew near.
“Don’t yer make no noise, honey; ef yer
does, yer is gwine ter be killed, shore!”
After thus cautioning her, Sylva took the
large tin pail and boldly opened the door
and walked out.
The men, half asleep, turned their faces
toward her, and one or two growled curses,
to which she replied by telling them to
‘’shut their moufs,” and continued on.
They saw she was alone, and had the ves
sel, and supposing she was going for water
they granted aud were soon asleep again.
As she passed through under the old shed
where the bushwhackers had deposited the
saddles and bridles the wily negress
tumbled headlong to the ground. She only
remained there an instant, but when she
arose she had two of the bridles in her pail,
and the deception was so perfect that Nancy,
j who was watching from the top of the hut,
j was not sure she had secured the coveted
| articles, and thought that the stumble was
j only an accident. If any of the gang saw
the act they must also have thought it only
a ludicrous accident.
Once near the spring and she was out of
sight. Etastily hiding the pail, she clutched
the bridles, and. keeping out of sight in the
brush, ran rapidly to the horses.
In tile meantime Nancy had crawled out
of the roof aud let herself gently to the
ground in ihe rear of the hut, and getting
dow’u upon her hands rapidly crawded into
; the brush. A few moments only sufficed
to bring her to the spot where Sylva and the
horses were. A few seconds more were
consumed in bridling, and then the animals
were led out to where there was no danger
of being seen, and were quickly mounted.
Continuing in the woods they rapidly bore
away from the captors, and as they kept the
sun to their backs it was only a short ride
to the river, into whichAey plunged. When
they had reached the bank a great
| hope of escape took the place of fear, and
the two urged their steeds ou at a more
rapid pace. For a whiie they kept on the
i ridges, but it was not loDg before they be
! gan to see the folly of doing so and irn
• mediately changed to a diagonal course
across them. Although the traveling was
j severe on the animals, it was their only
j hope of eluding pursuit. I p and down
! the hills they continued to urg” their jad d
| animals, and when evening came they ha;]
' reached the divide and were soon ca the
j Wire Road again.
When they reached this old family iafid
j mark their hearts throbbed with thankful
ness, and they could barely refrain from
i breaking out with wild shouts of joy. They
| had come into the road south of tne Eddies
I plantation, but with their knowledge of the
; location they were enabled to take the rl„k
1 direction, and after another hour of hard
I riding the p antation gate was reached, an i
the poor, tired darkies' hearts n-arJy buM
! with gladness when they again ben FI tk
| big bouse.
The clatter of their horses’ feet on th'
stones aroused the household, and the ne
groes came fioui all parts of their i nailers,
with fear o through curiosity. When the
fact that the two missing women had re
turned became known the slaves s emed
almost beside themselves, and hysterical
pandemoaia reigned for a time. Even the
white people could hardly contain! them
selves, and Lillie’s eyes were dim from joy
when she saw her old mammies (nurses
safe at home again.
There had been great consternation on
the plantation when it was discovered that
the females had disappeared, and every
effort had been made to find some trace oi
them by making inquiries along the b gh
waJs, but none could be found, and when
these that had been sent out returned,
gloom settled over the people, for the miss
ing slaves were favorites at the mansion
and in the quarters.
John ordered the tired animals to be
properly cared for, and the returned cap
tives were taken into the dining-room and
given a lunch of the best the house con
tained. After they had satisfied their hun
ger, John had continued questioning them,
but the only additional information gained
was that which proved to a certainty that it
was the same gang of rascals who had re
cently visited him that had stoieu the
slaves. He now began to see the condition
the country was in and the necessity of
doing something; 1 U' what could he do to
prevent further deeds of deviltry by the
6ame, or any other, gang of ruffians?
He at once decided upon one thing, and
that was to keep a night-watch, so he callea
Jeff, one of the most trusty men servants,
aud after explaining the danger of unfaith
fulness and cowardice asked him if he
would willingly act as watchman during
the remainder of the night.
“Deed I will. Marse John, an’ ’ll perteek
de hull p’antashu Leitf um try fer ter
steal Sylva or any udder nigger off dis place
agin and some un ’ll drap. Marse John,
where’s the gun?
Jeff was nearly wild w’lien he heard of
Sylva’s disappearance, for she was more
dear to him than anything else in*Arkansas,
and if he had known what to have done he
would have Iried to rescue her. even if it
had caused “Marse John” to lose one of
his best hands, aud a darky funeral.
. John brought out the old squirrel rifle
that had oft -n seen service on and about
the plantation, mid he banded the
well-used arm to Jeff a broad grin of pleas
ure overspread his countenance, and he
lovingly hugged it to his brnist as he left
the house
John had but little faith ia the darky’s
courage, but he knew he could trust him
implicitly.
When the family were left to themselves
they drew closer together and looked in
quiringly from one to the other. John
broke the stillness.
“Mother,” said he, “we are now without
law. We are almost, if not quite, ia a state
of anarchy, with all its horrors. When law
is done away with, bruie force takes its
place. You and sister know what you musl
expect if you remain here. Times are con
stantly growing worse, and I am afraid it is
now too late for you to succ a ed in getting
north to friends.' ion can take Sylva and
Jeff with you, aud, by keeping off the main
road, you may get through. I must remain,
but you need not.”
“We cannot leave you, son. If there is
danger for one w’e will all share it, ” was the
mother’s only reply.
“I had expected we would have trouble,
and, in order to protect my people, my
property, und myself. I thought best to pre
pare for the worst, aud”—[here he left
the room, and shortly returning, laid upon
the table, before the astonished ladies, a
handsome breech-loading riffe and two ele
gant revolvers] —“and so I brought these
home with me when I came.”
“O, dear son! I pray wo may never have
to resort to such means to protect our
selves. ”
“No one can wish so more than I. but if
it ever becomes my duty to do so I shall
use these implements and use them freely. ”
And his face showed great determination.
It was now evident that the family would
not be separated.
Nothing unusual happened during the
night, but in the morning Jeff brought up
near the door one of the horses that the
negroes had ridden home the evening
previous. He called John's attention to the
animal, but that gentleman could not see
any peculiarity about it.
“Dat ar hoss belong to young Marse
Woodsley,” said Jeff, showing the marks.
“You are right. Jeff'; so it does. The ras
cals have stolen from him, too. This ani
mal must be taken home at once. ”
CHAPTER Y.
VALUABLE INFORMATION.
“It look mighty strange how dat hoss
stole from Marse Woodsley and he not ax
fer im when Ise dnr. ”
Jeff did not like Woodsley, that was evi
dent, and now he began to show his sus
picion of the honesty of that young man.
“Wait,” said John, as Jeff was leading
the animal away. "I will myself return the
animal to its ow r ner. ”
John Eddies knew that the time had
come when it was not safe to go unarmed;
consequently before he started he had his
revolvers buckled around him under his
coat.
Taking another horse—-a ,ery fine one—
to return with, he proceeded on his way
toward the Woodsley plantation.
While traveling the Wire Road, his chin
resting on his breast, and feeling sick at
heart over the gloomy prospects before him,
he was suddenly brought to a halt by a
long-haired, lank specimen of humanity,
astride a sorry mule, appearing directly in
his path. This peculiar individual had on a
| suit of home-6pun clothes that had been
| made without any attempt at a fit. They
1 were wholly for use npd uot for ornament.
I Across the saddle-bow he carried an anti
j quated single-barrel that was more
1 dangerous m ffs owner iliau anything he
, might shoot at, or else it belied it 3 looks.
“Howdy?”
The in dividual's appearance was so sud
den, so strikingly ludicrous, that John
I caught Lis breath before answering.
; “Good morning, sir?"
“What be yer?”
| “What am*l? WLat do you mean?”
a ‘Fed ?
I “TM is none of your business!” was tho
| indignant answer.
I “Look a hyar. stranger,” and he twisted’
his neck and squinted one eye to look wise,
i “I reckon you be.”
I just reckon on.”
“ Vflßr'd yer git that tliar t'other hoss?” the
strange muu asked, eying the horse, and
j paying no attention to Eddies’ remark.
“That is Mr. Woodsley's horse. I’m tak
; ing it home.”
“Woodsley. Woodsley: that’s ther feller
what lives in the brown house back yander,
aint it?”
“Y’es, he is the man.”
“Then yer must be his friend, heh?”
“Why, y-e-s, of course.”
“Whoop-ee,” he yelled, and loudly too,
when John admitted the fact. It was evi
-1 dent he believed him to be one of the gang,
or friendly to them.
“Gimme yer hand. ” And he rode up along
side and extended his long, skinny, dirty
hand to John, who was too_ much a gentle
man to refuse to take it. He gave the
stmDger a hearty grasp.
“Yer man is not ter hum. I jess came
frum thar. He’s down ou ther river with
ther boys.
“He is, eh?” And John began to show
some interest.
“Yes. I was thar at ther house last night,
tin’ they done tole me that Le was gone
thar. ”
John Eddies was no hypocrite, but here
was a chance to get some information of
value just now, and he could not afford to
let any nice sense of feeling prevent him
from getting it, consequently he com
menced to adroitly question his new ac
quaintance.
“Do you belong?” he asked.
“Jess as good. I s gwrae ter go an’ jine
now.”
“I think some of it.”
“Better go with me, ”
“1 don't exactly know what they are going
to do.”
“Goin’ ter hev money, hosses, good
clothes, an’ not cost anythin’ nuther. My
old woman an’ young ’uns ’ill live high,
yer can reckin.”
“How will you get them?”
“Huh! Don't you see this’ere gun? We
'uns will walk up to 6ome uv these big uns’
plantations an’ pile ther things out. They
don t peep—ef they does, they die. ”,
“Have you already got anything that
“Nuthin but this ’ere mule, and I’s
gwino to trade him off for a good hoss
when I find the chap that’s got one. I’d
take your’n thar ef yer wasn't one of us.”
John s ire began to rise, buc he was not
done with the man yet, and he controlled
his feelings.
“Who stayed with you last night at
Woodsley’s?” he asked.
“Two of our men. I should have went
down with ’em, but they was a huntin' a
couple ev niggers w hat got away from camp,
an’ they didn't go on down ter ther river. ”
John made no remark. Ho was listen
ing. His open-mouthed neighbor was mak
ing himself quite interesting. He paid no
attention to Eddies’ silence but continued:
"Thar’s an ole man, Eggles er Iggles, or
sumthin'g of that kind, that lives over in
yar way,” pointing northwest, “that’s a rich
ole cuss—lots ev niggers, good hossep, an’ a
heap of gold hid. I want ’er git thar befo’
they run him. Yer’d better go ’long.”
“ -r hey are going to run him, are they?”
“Yer right tl_ar.”
“When?”
“ Soon—ter-morrer, I reckon.”
“Perhaps to-morrow night?”
“I reckon. ”
“Will young Mr. Woodsley be there?”
“Ther men told me he would. He’s some
struck arter ther ole man’s purty gal. Yer’d
better go. ”
• iftt m
NOTHING GOES HARD WITH MB.*
’Twas but a workman on his way
From tiresome toil to tea,
Yet in a cheery tone he sang:
“ Nothing goes hard with me.”
I noted well the rough-hewn look,
The awkward, untaught air;
The spade and shovel on his back,
The tangled, unshorn hair.
And these the thoughts that came uncalled.
Unto my musing mind: —
Where, in the higher walks of life,
Can we contentment find.?—
Content in such a great degree,
As this poor ■workman proves
Dwells within the walks
Wherein he daily moves?
How many of tu6 toilsome ta.sk,
That each new day- must bring,
Could learn from that poor laborer
To be content and sing!
And find how light the work would fall—
No matter what it be—
While cherishing the workman’s words—
‘‘There’s naught goes wrong with me.”
—Okolona Lancet.
HUMOR OF THE DAY.
Head-work—Shampooing.
■simple politeness—A bough to a tree.
Books that are always in season—
pocket books.
The time for cue to strike —Sixty
minutes sifter twelve.
The dentist and g’azier take great
pains with their work.
AA'e don’t see the propriety of wear
ing a solid gold stud in a merely plaited
shirt bosom.
AA'hy is a mosquito like a musician
who plays for money? Because, after
the serenade is over he sends in his bill.
She (early in the ’ evening) “Good
evening, Air. Sampson.’’ Same she (late
in the evening!—“Good night, George.”
“Alaska is a fur country, isn’t it. pro
fessor “Yes,’’ replied the professor
coldly, “It is quite distant.” —Pittburg
Chronicle.
A cow caused a serious railroad wreck
in lowa. In AVall street the railroad
wrecks are generally attributed to bears.
—Boston Bulletin.
A new paper called the Tamp has been
started by a couple of ladies. Devoted
to “light” literature, it is presumed. —
Norristown Herald.
It is said that there is a carpenter in
Milwaukee who is so expert with his
lathe that he can turn a deaf ear on the
slightest provocation.— Life.
Flossie (aged four) —“Bobby, why
do they call minssters doctors:” Bobby
(a lad of considerable information) —
“’Cos they make folks better.’’ — Epoch.
He floated in at the wave of her hand
And tenderly pressed his suit,
But all ot a sudden he floated out • *
Oil the wave of her father’s boot
—Detroit Free Press.
An old lady being late at churcli en
tered as the congregation was rising
from prayers. “La!” said she. curtsy,
ing, “don’t get up on my account.” —‘
New York News. -«i
Mamma (8 a. m.) —“Mercy me! Dot,
what are you ringing that big bell for?”
Little Dot —“This flower in the window
(pointing to a budi isn’t waked up yet.”
Omaha H'or/d.
In the court room. “AYhy is it they
are so mighty particular about keeping
orders here?” “The Judge, you remem
ber, cm only serve during good be
havior. ” Host >n Transcript.
A New i'ork manufacturer advertises
for men to hang dumb waiters. We have
no doubt such men ran be found, but in
what restaurants are they to find the
dumb waiters? —New Haven News.
He who courts and runs away,
to court another day;
But lie who courts and will not wed,
May find himself in court instead.
-Life. ,
“If I take hold of this thing, you
know r ,” remarked the tar to the roofer,
“I’ll stick to it; I never let go anything
I go into.” And the tar kettle said he
could endorse the last statement.—Bur
dette. 1
“AA ill you please give me something,
sir?” begged a tramp. “Certainly,” re
sponded the gentleman importuned.
“I’m a police justice, and if you will
step around to my office I’ll give you
thirty days. ” — New York Telegram.
Although the King of Spain gets a
million dollars a year, yet lie neve?
drinks anything stronger than milk; be
longs to no clubs; never was out with
the boys on a toot; does not smoke,
chew, swear, nor play billiards, but then
he is only a year old. —Danstille Breeze.
Tramp (to woman)—“Can you give
me something to eat, madam?”' AYoraan
“N#w : there ain't a thing in the house:
an’, besides. I’ve got a couple of letter
to write an’ no time to bother.” Tramp
(pleadingly)—“Madam, let me lick the
stamps, I can’t starve.” —N - York Sun.
The man who owns a lawn—
Who’s always up at dawn—
To oil his patent mower doth be-in, ’gin,
’gin;
The time is drawing nigh
AVhen we in bed shad lie ,
At morn, and smile to hear its marry din,
din, din.
—Boston Courier.
A few days ago two men were in the
Morse Building barber shop. (»ne had
red hair and tiie other was bald headed,
lied Hair ito Bald Head) —“You were
not about when they were giving out
hair?” Bald Head —“Yes, I was there,
but they had only a little rod hair ieft,
aud I wouldn’t take it.”— New York
Me ret r ij.
“Are you the horse editor?” inquired
an innocent looking young woman, ap
proaching the desk of thrt functionary.
“I have that pleasure, m'ss.”he replied,
taking off his hat. “Can you answer all
sorts of questions about horses?” “Well,
I rather think I can,” he said, with a
prideful swell in his bosom. “Oh, I’m
so glad,” she twittered. “AYill you te»l
me the difference between a bay hors,
and a sea horse?” As she went out of the
office she smiled back at him, but he sat
gloomily at his desk and said nothing.—
Washington Critic.
Regulation' have been established itj
the cotlee districts in Guatemala y
which farmers are required to hy
furnaces on their lands, and. whe/ /
a signal is given to indicate the /
of frost, to light in them firejy
pitch, or other substance like]/
a great smoke and keep avr/