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]!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/