Newspaper Page Text
REV. DR._ T A IMAGE.
THE BROOKLYN DIVINE’S SUN
DAY SERMON.
Subject: “The Three Greatest
Things To Do.”
Text. —‘'The pt-opTe that do-know thcii
God sha'l he strong, and do exjzloits."—
Daniel xi., 32.
Antiochus Kpiphar.es, the old sinner, cam o
down three times with his army to desolate
the Jews, advancing one time with a hun
dred and two trained elephants swinging
their trunks this way and that, and si -tv
two thousand infantry, and six thousand
cavalry troops, and they were driven ha le.
Then the second time he advanced with sev
enty thousand armed men and had been again
defeated. But the third time he laid success
ful siege until the navy of Romecamein with
the flash of their l< ng banks of oars and
demanded that the siege be lifted. And
Antiochus Epiphanes said he wanted time
to consult w ith his friends about it,and Popi
lius. one of the Roman embassadors, took a
staff and made a circle on the ground around
Antiochus Epiphanes, and compelled him to
decide before lie came out of that circle;
where pen ho li ted the siege. Some of the
Jews had submitted to the invader, but some
of tnem resisted valorously, as did Eleazer.
when he had swine’s flesh forced into his
mouth, spit it out. allhough ha knew he must
die for it, and did die for it, and others, as
my text says, wero enabled to do exploits.
An exploit I would define to be a heroic
act. a brave feat, a great achievement.
“Well,” you say, “lahnire such things but
there is no chance for me; mine is a sort of
humdrum life. If I had'an Antiochus Epiph
anes to fight I also could do exploits.” You
are right so far as great wars are concerned.
There will probably be rio opportunity to dis
tinguish yourself in battle. The most
of the brigadier-generals of this country
wou d never hav& been heard of had
it not been for the war. General
Grant would have remained in the
useful work of tanning hides at Galena, and
(3t‘ nowall Jackson would have continued the
quiet college professor in Virginia. And
whatever military talents you have will
probably lie dormant forever. Neither will
you probably become a great inventor-
Nineteen hnndred and ninety-nine out of
every two thousand inventions found in the
patent office at Washington never yielded
their authors enough money to pay for the
expenses of securing the patent. So you will
probably never be a Morse or an Edi
son, or a Humphrey Davy or an Eli
Whitney. There is not much prohabilitv
that you will bo the one out of the hundred
that achieves extraordinary success in com
mercial or legal or medical or literary
spheres. What then' ('an you have no op
portunity to do exploits! I am going to
show you to-day that there are three oppor
tunities open that are grand, thrilling, far
reaching, stupendous and overwhelming.
They are before you now. In one. if not all
three of them, you may do exp’o ts. Toe
three greatest things on earth to do are to
save a man, or save a woman, or save a
child.
During the course of his life almost every
man getsint > an exigency, is caught hetw.—n
two fires, is ground between two millstones,
sits on the edge of some precipice, or in some
other way comes near demolition. It may bo
a financial, or a moral, or a domestic, or a
social, or a politic d exigency. You some
times see it in court rooms. A young man
has got into bad company and he has odend -d
the law, and he is arraign d Ali blush
ing and confused lie is in the pres
ence of judge and jury and lawyers.
He can bo sent right on in the
wrong direction.- He is feeling disgraced,
and he is almost desperate. Let the District
Attorney overhaul him 83 though he were an
old offender; let the Ablest attorneys at the
bar refuse to say a word for him because he
cannot afford a considerable lee; let the
judge give no opportunity for presenting the
mitigating circumstances, hurry up the case
and hustle him up to Auburn or Sing King.
If he liveseventy years* for seventy years he
will be a criminal and each decade
of his life will he blacker tan
its predecesior. In the interreg
nums of prison life he ca»i get no
work, and he is glad to break a windo w-glass,
or blow up a sate, or play the highwayman,
so as to get back again within the walls
where he can get something to eat and hide
himself from the cruel gaze of tha wcrld.
Why don’t his father come and help him?
His father is dead. Why don’t his mother
cemo and help him? She is dead. Where
are ail the ameliorating and salutary in
fluences of society! They do not touch
him. Why did not some one long
ago in the case understand that
tlr-re was an opportunity for the explo.t
which would be famous in heaven a quadrill
ion of years after the earth has become
scattered ashes in the last whirlwind? Why
did not the District Attorney takethat young
man into his private office and say: “My
son, I sec that you are the victim of circuin
stances. This is your first crime. You are
sorry. I will bring the person you
wronged into your presence and you
wiil apologize and make all the
reparation you can, and 1 will give
you another chance.” Or the young man is
presented in the court room and he has no
friends present, and the judge says: “Who is
your counsel?” And he savs: “I have none.”
And the judge says: “Who will take this
young man's case ” And there is a dead
halt and no one offers, and after a while the
judge turns to some attorney who never had
a good case in all his life and never will, and
whose advocacy would be enough
to secure the condemnation of inno
cence itself. And the professional
incompetent crawls up beside the prisoner,
helplessness to rescue despair, when there
ought to be a struggle among all the best
men of the profession as to who should have
the honor of trying to help that unfortunate.
How much would such an attorney have re
reived as his fee for such an advocacy?
Nothing in dollars, but much every way in
a happy consciousness that would make hi 3
own life brighter and his own dying pillow
sweeter and his own heaven happier—the
consciousness that he had saved a man!
So there are commercial exigencies. A
very late spring obliterates the demand for
spring overcoats and spring hats and spring
apparel of ail sorts. Hundreds of thousands
of people say: “It seems we are going to
have no serins: and we shall eo straight out
of winter into warm weather, and we can
get along without the usual spring attire.”
Or there is no autumn weather, the beat
plunging into the cold, and the usual cloth
ing, which is a compromiee between sum
mer and winter, is not required. It
makes a difference in the sale of
millions and millions of dollars of goods, and
some over-sanguine young merchant is
caught with a vast amount of unsalable
goods thut never will be salable again ex
cept at prices ruinously reduced. That
young merchant with a somewhat limited
capital is in a predicament. What shall the
old merchants do as they see that young man
in tdiis awful crisis! Rub their hands
and laugh and say: “Good for hits. He
might have known better. When he has
been in business as long as we have, he
will not load his shelves in that way. Ha!
Ha! He will burst up before long. He had
no business to open his store so near to our:
anyhow.” Sheriff’s sale! Red flag in the
window: “How much is bid for these out
of-the-fashion spring overcoats and spring
hats or fall clothing out of date! \\ hat do J
hear in the way of a bid?” “Four dollars.’'
’“Absurd, 1 cannot take that bid of four dol
lars. Why,these coats when first put upon the
market were offered at fifteen dollars each,
and now lam offered only four dollars. Is
that all? Five dollars do I hear? Going at
that! Gone at five dollars,” and he takes the
whole lot. The young merchant goes homo
that night and saysto his wife: “Well. Mary,
we will have to move out of this house and
sell our piano. That old merchant that ha
had an evil eye on me over since 1 started
has bought out all the clothing, and he will
have it rejuvenated, and next year put it or
the market as new, while we will do 'yell if wi
keep out of the poor-house.’’ The young man
broken-spirited, goes to hard drinking. The
young wife with her baby goes to her father s
house, and not only is his store wiped out,
but his home, His morals, and his prospe ts
for two worlds, this and the next. And
devils make a bammet of fire and fill the r
cups of gall and drink deep to the health of
the old merchant who swallowed tin the
voung merchant who got stuck on spring
goods and went down. That is one way and
some of you have tried it.
But there is another wav. That young
merchant who found that he had miscalcu
lated in laying in too many goods of one
kind and been flung of the "unusual season,
is standing behind the counter feeling very
blue and biting bis finger nails or looking
over his account books, whi'-h real darker
and worse every time he looks at
them, and thinks how his young wife
will have to bo put in a plainer housi
than she ever expected to live in,
or go to a third-rate boardinc-bnuse whera
tney have tough liver and sour bread five
mornings out of the seven. An old merr-hanS
comes in and says: “ Well. Joe, this has been
a hard season for young merchants, and this
prolonged cool weather has put many in the
doldrums, and I have been thinking of you a
good deal of late, for just after I started
in business I once got into the
same scrape. Now if there is
anything 1 can do to hclu voa out 1
will gladly do it. Better just put thoie goods
out of sight for the present and n -xt season
wo will plan something about them. I will
help you to some goods that you can sell for
me on commission, and I will go down to one
of the wholesale houses and teil them that 1
know you and wfll back you up, and if you
want a few dollars to bridge over the present
I can let you have them. Be as economical as
you c m, keep a stiff upper lip, and remember
that you have two friends,. Gol and myself.
Good* morning! ’ The old merchant goes
away and the young man goes behind his
desk and the tears rol l down his cheeks, It
is the first time ho has cried. Disaster made
him mad at everything, an 1 mad at mm
and mad at God. But this kindness mel’s
him, and the tears soem to relieve his bruin,
and iiis spirits rise from ten below zero to
eighty in the shade, and he comi s
out of the crisis. And about three years
after, this young merchant goes into the old
merchant's store and says: “Well, my old
friend, I was this morning thinking over
what you did for me three years ago. Yon
helped me out of an awful crisis in my com
mercial history. I learned wisdom and pros
perity has come, and the pa lor has
gone out of my wife’s cheeks, and
the roses that were there when I
courted her in her fatherls house have
bloomed again, and my business is splendid,
ami 1 thought I ought to let you know that
you saved a man!” In a short time after,
the old merchant who had been a good while
shaky in his limbs and had poor spells
is caUe.l to leave the world, and one
morning after he bad read the twency
third Psalm ab-uit “The Lord is my
Shepherd,” he closes his eyes on this
world, and an angel who had been
for many years appointed to watch the old
man’s dwelling, cries upward th ■ news that
the patii irch’s sp r.t is about ascending.
And the twelve angels who keep the twelv e
gates of heaven unite in crying down to this
approaching spirit of the old man: “Comein
at any of the twelve gates you choose!
Come m and welcome, for it has heentoid all
over these Celestial neighborhoods that you
saved a man.”
Tnere sometimes come exigencies in the
life of a woman. One morning about two
years ago I saw in the newspaper that there
was a young woman in New York whose
pocketbook containing thirty-seven dollar.?
and thirty-three cents had been
stolen and she hal been left with
out a farthing at tho beginning of
winter in a strange city, and no work.
And although she was a stranger, I did
not allow the nine o’clock mail to leave the
lampost on our corner without carrying the
thirty-seven do! ars and thirty-three cents:
and the case was proved genuine’. ’ Now I
have read all Shakespeare’s tragedies, and ad
Victor Hugo’s tragedies, and all Alex
ander Smith’s tragedies, but I never read
a tragedy more thrilling than that, ease,
and similar cases by the hundred) and
thousands in all our large cities; young wo
men without money and without home and
without work in these great maelstroms of
metropolitan life. When such a case comes
under your observation, how do you treat it?
“Get out of my way, we have no room in our
establishment for any more hands. I don’t be
lieve in women anyway, they are a lazy, idle,
worthless set. J ohn, please show this person out
of the door.” Or do you compliment her per
sonal appearance and say tli.ngs to her which
if any man said to your sister or daughter
you would kill him on the spot? That is one
way, and it is tried every day in these large
cities, and many of those who advertise for
female hands in factories and for governesses
in families have proved themselves unfit to
be in any place outside of hell.
But there is another way. and I saw it the
other day in the Methodist Book Concern in
New York, where a young woman applied
for work, and the gentleman in tone and
manner said in substance: “My daughter, we
employ women here, but I do not know of
any vacant place in our' department.
You had better inquire at such and
suc-b a place, and 1 hope you will be
successful in getting something to do.” The
embarrassed and humiliated woman seemed
to give way to Christian confidence, l'he
started out with a hopeful look that I think
must have won for her a place in which to
earn her bread. I rather think that consid
erate and Christ an gentlemen saved a
woman. New York and Brooklyn ground
up last year about thirty thousand
young women, and would like to grind
up atiout as many this year. Out of ali
that long procession of women who mar h
on with no hope for this world or the next,
battered, bruised, scoffed at and flung off
the precipice, not one but might have been
saved for home and God and heaven. But
good men and good women are not in that
kind of business. Alas for that poor thing!
nothing but the thread of that evening-giri s
needleheld her, and the thread broke. 1 have
heard men tell in public discourse what a
man is, but what is a woman? Until some
one shall give a better definition I will tell
you what a woman is. Direct from God, a
sacred and delicate gift with affections so
great that no measuring line short of that of
the infinite God can tell their bound. Fash
ioned to refine and soothe and lift and
irradiate home and society and the
world. Of such value that no
one can appreciate it. unless his mother
lived long enough to let him understand it.
or who in some great crisis of life w hen all
else failed him, had a wife to reinforce him
with a faith in God that nothing could dis
turb. Speak out, ye cradles, and tell of the
feet that rocked you and the anxious faces
that hovered over you! Speak out, ye
nurseries of all Christendom, and ye homes,
whether desolate or stilt in full bloom with
the faces of wife, mother and daughter, and
help me to define what woman is. If a man
during all his life accomplish nothing els«
except to win the love and confidence auu
help and companionship of a good woman
he is a garlanded victor and ought to hav«
the hands of all the people between here and
the grave stretched out to him in con
gratulation.
But as geographers tell us that the depth!
of the sea correspond with the heights of th«
mountains, I have to tell you that good
womanhood is not higher up than bad woman
hood is deep down. The grander the pnlacs,
t he more awful the conflagration that destroys
if. The grander the steamer Oregon, the
more terrible liar going down just off the
coast. Now I should not wonder if you
trembled a little with a s -nse of responsibil
ity when I say that there is hardly a person
in this house but may have an opportunity
to save a woman. It In ay, in your case, bo
done by good advice, or by financial help, or
by trying to bring to bear some one oi
a thousand Christian influences. You
would not have to go far. If,
for instance, you know among your
acquaintances a young W’oman who is
apt to appear on tho streets about the hour
when gentlemen return from business and
you find her responding to the smile of entire
strangers, hogs that lift their hat, go to her
and plainly teil her that nearly all the de
stroyed womanhood of the world began the
downward path xvith that x T ery kind of bo
ha vior.
Or if, for instance, you find a woman in
financial distress an 1 breaking down in
health and spirits trying to support her chil
dren, now that her husband is dead or an in-
valid, doing that very important and honor
aide work, but which is little appreciated,
keeping a boarding house, where all the
nests, according as they pay small
0 ird. or propose, without paying
any board at all, to decamp, are
i r.tieal of everything and hard to please
busy yourselves in trying to get her more
patrons and tell her of divine sympathy.
Vea, if you are a woman favored of fortune
ami all kindly surroundings, finding in the
hollow flatteries of the world her chief re
galement, living for herself and for time as
if there were no eternity, strive to
bring her into the kingdom of God, as did I
the other clay a Kabbath-school teacher w ho
was tho means of the conversion of the j
daughter of a man of immense wealth, and
the daughter resolved to join the church,
and she went home and said: “Father, I
am going to o n the church and I want you j
to come. ” “Oh, no,” he said, "I never go to j
church.”
“Well,” said the daughter, “if I were to be j
married, would you not go to see me mar
ried?” And he said: “Oh, yes.” “Weil,” i
said she, “this is of more importance than
that .” 8o he wenf and lias gone ever s.nce,
ti7i.il loves to go. 1 do not know but that
faithful Kabbath-school teacher not only
saved a woman but saved a man. There may i
be in this audience gathering from all parts |
of the world, ti e most eosmopo itan assembly j
in all the earth, there may be a man whose
behavior toward womanhood has been
perfidious. Repent! Stand up, thou mas
terpiece of sin and death, that I may charge
vou! As far as possible, make reparation.
I>o not boast that you have h r in your pow
er and that she cannot help herself. W hen
that fine collar and cravat and that elegant
suit of clothes c-omes off and your uncovered
soul stands in judgment and b.-tore God, you
will be better off if you save that woman.
There is another exploit that you can do,
and that is to save a child. A chilci does not
seem to amount to much. It is nearly a year
old before it can walk at all. For the first
year and a half it cannot speak a word. For
the first ten years it would starve if it had to
earn its own food. For the first fifteen
years its opinion on any subject is abso
lutely valueless. And then there are so
many of them. My! what lots of children!
And some people have contempt for chil
dren. They are good for nothing but to
wear out the carpets and break things and
keep you awake nights crying. well your
estimate of a child is quite different
from that mother’s estimate who lost
her child this summer. They took it to
the salt air of the seashore and to
the tonic air of the mountains, but
no help came, and tha brief paragraph of its
life is ended. Suppose that life could bo re
stored by purchase, bow much would that
bereaved mother give! She would take all
the jewels from her fingers and neck and
bureau and put them down. And if tcld that
that was not enough, she would take her
home and make over the deed for it, and if
that were not enough she would call in all
her investments and put down nil her mort
gages and bonds; and if told that were not
enough, she would say: “I have made over
all my property, and if I can have that child
back I will now pledge tha:, I w ill toil with
my own hands and carry with my own shoul
ders in any kin t of hard work, and live
in a cellar and die in a garret. Only give
me back that lost darling,” lam glad that
there are those who know something of the
value of a child. Its possibilities are
tremendous. TV hat will those hands vet do?
Where will those feet yet walk? Toward
what destiny will that never-dying soul be
take itself! Shall those lips be the throne of
blasphemy or benediction? Come, all yo
surveyors of the earth, and bring link and
chain and measure if you cm its possible
possessions. Come, all ye astronomers of the
earth, with your telescopes, and tell us if you
can see the ranze of its eternal flight. Come,
all ye chronologists, and calculate the de
cades on decades, the centuries on centuries,
the cycles on cycles, the eternities on e'.er
nities of its lifetime. Oh, to save a
child! Am I not right in putting that among
the great exploits? Yes, it beats the other
two, for if you save the child you save the
man or you save the woman. Get the first
twenty years of that boy or girl all right and
I guess you have got manhood or womanhood
all right, and their entire earthly and eternal
career ail right. Rut what are you going to
do with those children who are wor.-e off
than if their father or mother had died the
day they were born? There are tens of
thousands of such. Their parentage was
against them. Their name is against them.
The structure of their skulls against them.
Their nerves and muscles contaminated by
the inebriety or dissoluteness of their parents,
they are practically at their birth laid
out on a plank in the middle of the Atlantic
Ocean in an equinoctial gale and told to make
for shore. The first gre ting tiiev get from
the world is to be called a brat or a ragamuffin
or a wharf-rat. What to do with them is
the question often asked. There is another
question quite as pertinent, an l that
is, what are they gong to do with
us? They will ten or eleven years
from now have as many votes as
the same number of well-born "children, and
they will hand this lanl Aver to anarchy and
political damnation just as sure as we neglect
them. Suppose we each one of us save a boy
or a girl. Youcandoit. Will you? I will.
Take a cake of perfumed soap and a fine
toothed comb, ana a New Testament and a
little candy and prayer, and a piece of cake
and faith in God and common sense, and be
gin this afternoon.
But how shall we get rea ly for one or all
of these three exploits? We shall make a
dead failure if in our own strength we try to
save a man or woman or child. But my
text suggests where we are to get equipment.
“The people that do know their God shall bo
strong, and do exploits.” We must know
Him through Jesus Christ in our own salva
tion, and then we shall have His help in the
salvation of others. And while you are
saving strangers you may save some of your
own kin. You think your brothers and sis
ters and children and grandchildren all safe,
but they are not dead, and no one is safe till
he is dead. On tho English coast there was a
wild storm and a wreck in the offing, and the
cry was: “Man the lifeboat.” But Harry,
the usual leader of the sailors’ crew, was
not to lie found, and they went without him
and brought back all th shipwrecked people
except one. By this time Harry, the leader
of the crew, appeared and said: “Why did
you leave that one?” The answer was: “He
could not help himself at all and we could
not get him into the boat.” “Man the
lifeboat,” shouted Harry. “and we
will go for thut one.” “No,” said his aged
mother standing by, “you must not go. I
lost your father in a storm like this, and
vour brother Will went off six years azoand
1 have not heard a word from TV ill since he
left, and I don’t know where he is, and
what has happened to him, poor Will,
and I cannot let you also go for I am
old end dependent on vou.” His reply was:
“Mother, I must go and save that one man,
and if I am lost God will take care of you in
your old days.” The lifeboat put out, and
after an awful struggle with the sea they
picked the poor fellow out of the rigging
just in time to save his life, and started
lor the shore. And as they came within
speaking distance, Harry, just before he
fainted from the over-exertion, cried out:
“TVe saxed him, and tell mother it was
brother Will.” Ob, yes, my friends, let
us start out to save some one for time
and for eternity, some man, and some
woman, and some child. And who
knows but it may, directly or indirectly, be
the salvntion of one of our own kindred, and
that will be an exploit worthy of celebration
when the world itself is shipwrecked and the
sun has gone out like a spark from a smitten
anvil and all the stars are dead 1
The Tonng Man With the Sash.
First Old Party ton hotel piazza).—
“What has that young man got that big
sash around his waist for?”
Second Old Party. ‘ Dunno, unless
he has got a pane in his stomach.”—
Boston Bulletin.
Tke constitutional amendment increasing
tho number of Supreme Court Judges of
Georgia from three to five, was defeated at
the recent election by a majority of about
k 25,001. The farmers united against it.
HOUSEHOLD AFFAIRS.
Knuckle of Mutton.
Cover with cut bailey, a few caper*,
finely cut unions, and thin slices of
turnips; season with pepper and salt; let
it steam or simmer gently for an hour
and a half, and then have ready melted
butter and pour over, allowing it again
to steam or simmer for twenty minutes.
A beautiful gravy will have collected,
and the meat-be as tender as a chicken.
Garnish with Paysadu tongue, warmed
previously by steam. The price of Hits
tongue is far less than the British article,
and the tongue lias a sweet taste.
Scalloped Onions.
Boil, and if large cut into quarters.
Put into a shallow dish, cover with
white sauce and buttered crumbs, and
bake until the on ous are brown. Take
off the outside skin of onions and cut.
Pour hot water over them, add a half
teaspoonful of soda, and let them stand
for half an hour or more. Put on to
boil with a teaspoonfal of soda in the
water. 1 'oil till soft, and then proceed
as directed above. If one has to cut up
a large quantity of onions it is well to
do it under water, a part of the odor
being thus absorbed home lay a piece
of breitd neh • the onions, thinking that
it absorbs part of the odor.
Pickled Cucumbers.
For GOO cucumbers: Three gallons
strong cider vinegar, three quarts water,
one heaping quart of salt, eight ounces
alum, one handful horseradish root cut
in strips, three do/en small onions, par
boil and peel o t outer skin, one-half
pound sugar. Wash the cucumbers in
cold water and rub off the roughness,
put them into a large jar, sprinkle con
siderable salt over them and pour enough
boiling water to cover them. Let them
stand for twenty-four hours, then take
out the pickles, empty out the brine and
put the pickles again into the jar with
the ■onions and horseradish, boil the
vinegar and water with the eight ounces
of alum, one quart sat, one half pound
sugar, ab nit fifteen minutes. Take two
ounces whole clove, two ounces of all
spice, one-half pound pepper cor s
crushed, two ounces mustard seeds
broken, two ounces cinnamon I roken.
Sew these into one or two flannel bags
and put them in the jar. If you like add
two or th ee green peppers cut in slits.
Now pour on boiling vinegar and cover
your jar tightly. In a week pour off the
vinegar, boil it, and pour over the pickles
a second time. —Detroit Free Press.
Chicken in Jelly.
Clean and put on to boil a plump
chicken, allowing a uint of xvater for
each pound of the chicken's weight.
When the xvater is heated to the boiling
point skim it and set ihe pot back where
it will simmer until the meat is tender,
about an hour and a half. Then remove
the chi- ken, sain it and remove all the
flesh from tho bones, then put the la ter
back in the kettle and let the liquor boil
until it has been reduced one half. Then
strain the liquor and put it away to cool.
It will get into a regular elly. Then
remove the fat, and put the hardened
liquor into a saucepan, andadda quarter
of a package of gelatine for each quart
of jelly—soak the gelatine for an hour in
half a cup of cold water—twelve pepper
corns four cloves, a small piece of mace,
a stalk of celery, an onion, the white and
shell of an egg, salt and pepper to taste.
Let the ingredients boil up at once, then
put the saucepan back where it will sim
mer for twenty minutes Then strain
the jelly through a napkin. Put a layer
of it three-quarters of an inch thick in a
mold and put the mold in ice-water to
harden. Cut the flesh of the chicken
into long, thin strips, Aasou them well
with salt and pepper and lay them
lightly in the mold when the jelly is hard.
Pour the :e-t of the jellly into the mold
and put >t away to harden. When the
dish is ready to be served, dip the mold
into warm water and turn it upside down
on a platter; its contents will slide out
in one mass. A garnish of parsley im
prove; its appearance , and Tartare or
mayonnaise sauce may be served with it.
J.rouklj n Eagle.
Household Hints.
Remove stains from cups and saucers
by scouring with line coal ashes.
If sassafras bark is sprinkled among
dried fruit it Will keep out the worms.
Tin cleaned with paper will shine
better than when cleaned withllannel.
( lothe-pins boiled a few minii es and
quickly dried once or twice a month
become more durable.
A little petroleum added to the water
with which waxed ot polished tloorsare
washed improves their looks.
Tea or coffee stains will come out at
once if they are taken immediately and
held over a pail while boiling water is
poured upon them.
Make starch with soapy water and you
will find it a pleasure to do up your
starched goods. It prevents the iron
from sticking and makes a glossy sur
face.
When potter’s ware is boiled for the
purpose of hardening it, a handful or
two of bran should be thrown into the
water, and the glazing will never be
injured by acids or salt.
Dry buckwheat flour, if repeatedly
applied, will entirely remove the worst;
grease spots on carpets or any other
woo en cloth, and wiil answer as well as
French chalk for grease spots on silk.
Oilcloths should never be washed in
hot soapsuds; they should first be washed
clean with cold water, then rubbed dry
with a cloth wet in milk. The same
treatment applies to stone or slate
hearth.
Ink stains are entirely removed by the
immediate application of dry salt before
the inK has dried. When the salt be
comes discolored by absorbing the ink
brush it off and apply more; wet slight
ly. Continue this till the ink is all
removed.
The dishes on which meat , came,
poultry or fish are served ought to be
large enough to leave a space of about
two inches between the food and the
border of the dish. It is very awkward
for the carver to cut up a large piece on
a small dish.
The French have a pretty manner of
serving smelts. After frying them in
the usual way, a little skewer four
inches long, silver-plated or of polished
wire, is run through two or three of the
smelts, running it carefully through the
eyes. A slice of lemon is then put on
top of each skewerful, which is served
as a portion for one person.
An Indian’s Cunning Rnse.
Tn the town of New Boston, N. IT.,
there is a hill called “Joe English,”
which received its name froip a circum
stance connected w.th a noted Indian
friendly to the whites. This hill is pre
cipitous and abrupt on its southern end,
having an appearance as if the southern
end had been carried away by some con
vulsion of nature.
In 1703 or 1705, there was an Indian
living in these parts, noted for his
friendship for the English settlers upon
the lower Merrimac. He was an accom
plished warrior and hunter. From his
friendship to his white neighbors, the
Indians, according to their want, gave
him the name, significant of this trait,of
“Joe English.”
In the course of time the Indians, sat
isfied that Joe gave information of their
hostile designs to the English, deter
mined on killing him at the first oppor
tunity. It happened one dav iust at
twilight, that two or th ee of them came
upon Joe as fie was returning from a
hunt, and began an upon him;
but he escaped from them, and made
directly for this hill iu the southern part
of New Boston.
With the quick thought of an Indian,
ho made up his mind that the chances
were against him in ah ng race, and that
he must have recourse to stratagem. As
he ran up the hill he- slackened his
pace, until his pursuers were almost upon
him, that they might become more eager
iu the pursuit.
Once near the top he started off with
greet rapidity, and the Indians after him,
straining every nerve.
As Joe came upon the brink of the
precipice before mentioned, he leaped be
hind a jutting rock, and waited in breath
less anxiety.
A moment later he heard the hard
breathing and lignt running footsteps of
h s pursuers. Another instaut, and a
startled yell broke on th: evening air,
and the dark forms of the avenging
Indians rolled over and over down the
precipice.
Henceforth, the hill was called Joe
English, and well did the faithful Indian
deserve so enduring a monument.—
Youth’s Companion.
A i Indian Household.
One evening I dined at the Consulate
of Calcutta, India, writes a correspond
ent. Six servants waited at table, one
for each per*,in. It is well wages at
low. for many arc required ; first of all,
the bearer or valet is ind spendable,doing
everything for you; you never go to
dine but that he attends to wait on you;
he dresses you. does your packing and
evenstys “thanks” for you. No one evei
in India says “thanks” :or themselves;
you always hear them call for their
“bearer.” Mine was a very good one,
though I could not say I became so de
pendent on him as all this, but it was a
great satisfaction to be well waited rm
at the hotels while other people were
making themselves wretched. .text in
importance is the cook, and ihe men who
look after the house, called kitmagars.
Then every household his a ta lor, a
xvas her woman and “sweeps.” who do all
tha dirty work.
If you have horses it requ rcstwo men
for every horse, and if several a head
man to bos?, the others; one man cuts
the grass, another gets it in. The onlv
women servants are the ladies’ maids and
nurses—all the others are nun. Wages
vary from one to tiye dollar- a month
and lind themselves. They always
go about earefoot and without noise. A
gentleman told me on first coming out
lie attempted to dress lais servants well,
but f aind they would go to sleep in the
strawjW lll their clothes on, so gave it
up. lain sorry to say ihe amount of
drinking done is tremendous. You gc
to a dinner, you are o e eil a “peg”—
is, whisky and soda water—before
sitting down, then through ihe dinner,
ank afterwards it is “pegging” all the
time. Soda water and lanes, however,
I found quite palatable. —Boston Tran
script.
A Leper as White as Snow.
Johnson, the leper, lies in a room off
from the contagious ward, says the Chi
cago Herald reporter who visited the
hospital. He is hideous. His hands
and hairless fa e are incrusted with
scale-like blotches of reddish-brown.
The face shows most distinctly the
ravage-; of the horrible disease. The
lower lids of the eyes are drawn down
and turned insideout. The lipsare blue,
and the nose P swollen to twice its na
tural si/e. His back and abdomen ate
covered with huge tubercles. These
scales slightly change color from time to
time. Tffere is no known remedy for
leprosy. It has for all times defied the
efforts of physicians. Put one important
discovery ha-; been made of late years,
and that is that the disease is coniag ous,
and is not hered.tary, as is generally
Supposed. The germ of the disease is
known to exist, and animals have been
inoculated, afterwards showing un
mistakable signs of the malady, fftill
no cure has been discovered, or even a
remedy to alleviate the leper’s suffering.
Leprosy is a slow disease, and Johnson
may live for even fifteen years. There
are two forms of the disease—viz.: b ack
leprosy and white leprosy. In the for
mer the scales aie dark and in the latter
perfectly white. Johnson is suffering
from the former. The leprosy of the
ancient Jews consisted of shiny smooth
blotches on which the hair turned white
and silky, and the skin and the muscular
flesh lost their sensibility. It was in
curable. It was not until about the
year iOO A. D. that the black leprosy
appeared. In time the toes and fingers
drop off, and xvhen the eating process
reaches the vitals death ensues.
Alpine Casualties.
In consequence of the increasing num
ber of accidents to tourists in the Alps,
the Austrian Government has addressee!
a circular to the orhcials in the Alpine
provinces instructing them to exert their
influence towards the promotion of any
measures tending to diminish the num
ber of such casualties. They are urged
to encourage the development of the
| guide system, and to endeavor to secure
a reduction in the charges of the guides;
they are also called upon to assist the
Alpine Club in the work of makingroads
and erecting lodges on the mountains.
The local authorities aie expected to do
their share in putting up safeguards
against accidents. The circular points
to the necessity of abating the present
evil of marking out dangerous excursions
to tourists.— JS’tw York Post.
vn. x omro,
Ah, years ago, no matter where,
Beneath what roof or sky,
I dreamed of days, perhaps remote,
When ships of mine that were afloat
Should in the harbor lie,
And all the costly freights they bora
Enrich me both in mind and store.
What dreams they were of argosies,
Laden in many a clime;
So stoutly built, so bravely manned.
No fear but they would come to land
At their appointed time;
And I should see them, one by one,
those furl their saiis in summer’s sun.
And then, while m m in wonder stood,
My ships I would unlade;
My treasures vast they should behold,
And to my learning or ray gold,
What honors would be paid!
And though the years might come and
I could but wiser, richer grow.
11.
In later years, no matter where, *
Beneath what roof or s ty.
I saw the dreams of days remote
Fade out, and ships that were alloat,
Asdriftinz wrecks go by:
And all the many freights they bore
Lay fathoms deep, or strewed th a shoraf
While ships of which I never thought
Were sailing o’er tho sea;
And, one by one, with costlier load,
In safety all the voyage ro !e,
And brought their freights to me;
Then what I lost a trifle seemed.
And I was richer than I dreamed.
%
No wondering ero vd. with envious eye,
Looke lon my treasure rare;
Yet they were weightier far than gold;
They still increase, though I grow old,
And are beyond compare;
Would all the restless hearts I sea
Had ships like these that came to mo!
-A. D. F. La idolph, in Sailors' Majasine,
HU.TIOII OF THE DAV.
A “pass” word—Good morning!
There is no wedding without a h’tch
ill it.
The origiual grand old party Mcthu
tclah.
The smaller the “talker” the bigger
the salesman, often.
The thoughts of the lovesick youth
ire sadly miss-shapu.
When a stock fids to pav a dividend,
the ho.der lose* his interest.
A certain chiropodist lias dubbed
himself '‘William die i oru-ourer. ’
The worst breach of good mounters is
for Misfortune to stare a woman m the
lace.
The most unhappy feature about be
ing n jail-bird is sn.il to be its inability
to llv.
“That puts a different face on it,” ns
the small t>oy said as h.s ball struct the
clock d al.
When an Indian catches a c- Id on
the war-path he has the war whoop
ing cough.
'l'he man who supplied the inquisition,
with machinery was tne ordinal mek
ren.er.—Liji.
A woman may not object to a man’s
following her, bur she cLsl.kcs to have
him get on her trail.
djhe professor of penmanship cannot
do a flourishing business when he drops
his pen and uses a typewriter.
“No, indeed,” said the young lady
from Boston, adjusting her eyeglasses,
“1 never iide iti those Robert tail ci.rs.”
A Wise 1 octor—“Doctor, I have u
frightful cold in the heid . Wb.it shall
1 take for it:” Doctor falter rejection)
—“A handkerchief.”
The sou of a Detroit railroa,! man was
punished at school, lie tod his lather
hv was suffering from a m splaced switch.
— Detroit rme ires.
We pity the young fellow who want's
to vote but will lack a day of being ~l on
election day. He must leel la k-n-dny
sical. — Sprut/jrfiel l ile< u Itcan.
Lady of the Ilou-e (urging company
to eat “iLea-e be p youi>eives. Do
just as iu your own house.
I am always so glad when my friends nre
at home.”—.l/. r ur .
“Where did young Browne get his
money. Papa?” “I-loin h.s uncle, old
Dim Brown. He inherited everything
he has in this world, except ti.e mial ‘o’
to h s name.” — Lije.
The girl who bat fine teeth may not
have a keener sense of humor than other
women, but you can depend on her to
chow all the appreciation she has of a
joke or a funny story.— Mercury.
“Your name, my child?” inquired the
matron of tho poor l.tt e wail that had
applied for charity. “Mary Haddell.”
“j.ittle lam i!” feelingly exclaimed the
tenderhearted matron. — C.aeajo Tri
bune.
First landlady—“ What! Twelve
dollars a xveek. board from Liudie Downy
lip! I never could get but ifd. How
did you manage it!” Second Landlady
—“I served h.s coffee in a mustache
cup.” —Cur oon.
'i he Trials of Authors—Scapegrace Son
(introducing his old father to \ oung
lady)—“Miss Gladys, the author of my
being.” Old Gentleman (bowing)—“A
work that has been much criticised.”—.
Uarper’s Magazine.
He was an economic man,
No money did he waste;
He took things as they came along,
Nor to get rich made haste;
He lived above the store,
Where he his money made.
And spiteful people used to say
lie was above his trade.
• —Cleveland Lee? d^v.
After Tho Musicale— Miss Screecher—
“ Well, dear, how was my voice to
night! Did it fill the room?” Miss
Veracity—“At first it did, but after
ward ” Miss Screecher— “ YYellF*
Miss Veracity— emptied it.”— lime.
“I want to purchase a narrow escape,’*
said a Frenchman in a Pittsburg fur
nishing store the other day. He had
found out somehow that in the wonder
ful English language, a close brush and
a narrow escape were synonymous.—
Pittsburg Chronicle. ~ y,
I admit, dear Charles, I told Miss Jones ?
I really did not like you—
Perhaps the meaning of my words
Doth not yet fully strike you,
So hear me swear by all the stare J
A-twinkling now above you.
The reason why I like you not j,
Is this: because I love you.
. —Harper's Bazar, !