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DR, TALMAGE’S SERMON. THE garden of the chubch T . xt ; •'! am come into my garden.’’-Solo >u’s Song, v., 1. Tnr Bible is a great poem; we have in it , Xs, rbvthm, and bold imagery, and thtr’ antithesis, and rapturous lyric, and ~s' . ..us-oral and instructive narrative and Malpsalw: thoughts expressed in I more solemn than that of Montgomery; « bold than that of Miltin; more terrible f ' l that of Cante; more natural than that <tv >r Isworth: more impas done 1 than that . pjllok- more tender than that of Cowper; weird than that of Spenser. This great brines all the gems of the tarth into C oronet, aud it weaves the flames of judg in’o its garlands, and jaiurs eternal EXonies into its rhythm. Everything this K k touches it makes beautiful, from the , n stones of the summer threshing floor to Isu daughters of Nahor filling the trough for t camels. and th « «®t-pooto of Heshbon up “.h. Psatmist praising God with diapason of rf.rin and whirlwind, and Job leading forth Orion Arcturus and the Pleiades. Mr text leads us into a scene of summer ,1 jence. The world has had a gnat many k'i itiful gardens. Charlemagne added to the’lory of bis reign by decreeing that they S estafibrhed all through the realm—de even the names of the flow ers to be Slanted there. Henry IV., at Montpelier, Published gardens of bewitching beauty Lid luxuriance, gathering into them Alpine, th-renean and French plants. One of the fleetest spots on earth was the garden of slaaswne, the poet His writings have made but little impression on the world, but his m-den, The Seasons, will be immortal. To fh e natural advantage of that place was brought the perfection of art. Arbor aud terrace ami slope and rustic temple and reservoir and urn and fountain here had tbeir crowning. Oak and yew and hazel put forth their riche,t foliage. There was no life more diligent, no soul more ingenious than that of Shenstone, and all that ddigence, aud tenius he brought to the adornment of that one treasured spot. He gave £3OO for it he sold it for £17,000. And yet lam to’tell you to-day of a richer garden than an v I have mentioned. It is the garden spoken of in my text, the garden of the church which belongs to Christ, for my text a \s so. He bought it, Ho planted it, He owu- it, aud He shall have it. Walter Scott, in his outlay at Abbotsford, ruined his for tune. and now, in the crimson flowers of tLo-e gardens, you < an almost think or imag ine that you see the blood of that old man's broken heart. The payment of the last £ 100,- 600 pounds sacrificed him. But I have left to tell you that Christ’s life and Christ’s death were the outlay of this beautiful gar den of the church of which my text speaks. Oh. how many sighs, and tears, and Jiangs, sal agonies! Tell me, ye women who saw Him hang. Tell me, ye executioners who lifted Him and let him down. Tell me, thou sun that didst hide, ye rocks that fell. "Christ loved the Church and gave himself for it” If the garden of the church belongs to Christ, certainly He has a right to walk in it Come then, Ob blessed Jesus, to-day, wall; up and down these aisles, and pluck what Thou wilt of sweetness lor Thyself. The church, in my text, is appropriately compared to a garden, because it is a place of choice flowers, of select fruits and of thorough irrigation. That would be a strange garden in which there were no flowers It nowhere else, they would be along the bor ders or at the. gateway. The homeliest taste will dictate something, if it be the old-fash ioned hollyhock, or dahlia, or daffodil, or coreopsis; but if there be larger means, then you will find the Mexican cactus, and dark veined arbutelion, and blazing azalea, and clustering oleander. Well, now’, Christ comes to his garden and he jilants there some of the brightest spirits that ever flowered upon the world. Some of them are violets, unconspic uous, but sweet as heaven. You have to search and find them. You do not see them very often, perhaps, but you find where they have been by the brightened face of the in valid, aud the sprig of geranium on the stand, and the new window curtains keeping out the glare of the sun light. They are, perhaps, more like the ranunculus, creeping sweetly along amid the thorns and briars of life, giving kiss for sting, aud many a man who has had in his way some great black rock of trouble, have found that they have covered itall over with flowery jessamine running in and out amid the crevices. These Christians in Ihrist’s garden are not like the sunflower, gaudy in the light, but whenever darkness hovers over a soul that needs to be comforted there they stand—night- blooming cereuses. But in Christ’s garden there are plants that may be better compared to the Mexican cac- Mt— thorns without; loveliness within—men with sharp points of < haracter. They wound almost every one that touches them. They are hard to handle. Men pronounce them nothing but thorns, but Christ loves them, notwithstanding all their sharpnesses. Many a man has had a very hard ground to culti vate, and it has only been through severe trial he has raised even the smallest crop of grace. A very harsh minister was talking to a very placid elder, and the placid elder raid to the harsh minister: “Doc tor, I do wish you would control your temper.” “Ah,” said the minister to the elder. “I control more temper in five minutes than you do in five years.” It is carder for some men to do right than for other men to do right. The grace that would elevate you to the seventh heaven might not keep your brother from knocking a man down. I had a friend who camo to me and raid: “1 dare not join the church.” I said: "Why?’ “Oh,” he said, “I have such a vio lent temper. Yesterday morning I was cross ing very early at the Jersey City ferry and law a milkman pour a large amount or water into the milk can and I said to him, ‘I think that will do,’ and he insulted me and 1 knocked him down. Do you think I ought to join the church?’ Nevertheless, that very ra: e man who was so harsh in his bebav ior loved Chri-t, and could not speak of ia< red things without tears of emotion and affec tion. Thorns without but sweetness within -the best specimen of Mexican cactus I ever saw. There are others planted in Christ’s gardei who are always radiant, always impressive— Bore like the roses of deep liue that we oc casionally find, called -‘giants of battle”— the Martin Luthers. St. Pauls, Crysostoms, ickliffes, Latimers and Samuel Ruther fords. What in other men is a spark, in them is conflagration. When they sweat, they sweat great drops of blood. W’heu they Pray, their prayer takes tire. When they P'ea hit is a I’entecost. When they fight it is a Thermopylae. When they die it is a martyrdom. You find a great many n.s.-s ln 'h® gardens, but only a few “giants of rattle.” Men say: “Why don’t you have Wore of them in the church!” I say, “Why non t you have in the world more Humboldts J® 1 Wellingtons!” God gives to some ten ■tents; to others, one. In this garden of the chur h which Christ ~ planted I al-® find the snowdrop , beau viiil but cold-looking, seemingly another wiX w ntx?r I mean those Christians . 110 are P rec >se in their tastes, unimpas ”oned, pure as snowdrops ami as col l. Tlu-y raver shed any tears, they never get excite I, rayn ver .-ay anything rashly, they nja er ’’ anything pre ipita’.ely. Their jml-es J® r Uutt.r, their aeries never twitch, their jMignation never boils over. They live eager than most people; but their life is a The X never run up to C above e staff. In their musi ■of life they ha ono t^ cc ? to fa-sages. Christ planted them in or th Ur< “ and th®!’ must be of some service “-y would not be there; snowdrops, al ’»y» snowdrops. «„7®t I have not told you of the m st beauti fe.t H , er * n a *t t^i- s garden spoken of in the 't. It you see a “ -entury” plant your j, ® t,o o s are started. You gay: “Why this ; ’ er has been a hundred years gathering up nr°°m, and it will be a hundred years j, before other petals will come out" But uave to tell you of a plant that was gather itnl’, , orn ali eternity, and that I'.KW years » .iF’ ut ‘°Tth its bloom never to wither. It !, jass ‘ OQ 'P' ant the cr, mb! Prophets rto.d it Bethlehem shepherds looked epon it in the bud: the rocks shoo"; at its bursting, aud the dead got up in all the r winding sheets to see its full bio un. It is a crims n flower—Wood at the roots, blood on th' branches, blo-rd on all the lea,e-. Its per unois t • fill all the nation i. Its breath is heaven. Come, oh winds from the north, and winds from the south, and winds from the cast, aud winds from the west, and tear to ail the earth the sweet-smelling savor of Cliri-t, my Lord— His worth if all the nations knew, Bure the whole earth would love Him too. uigaiu, Sue cmi.vu up^r-piuvmlv compared to a ga: de i. b 'cause it is a place of seb-et (r.dts. Tuat would boa strange gar den which had in it u > berries, no i lums or peaches or apricots. The coarser fruits are planted in the orchard, or they are set out on tli‘ s inny hillside; but. the ch diest iruitsare kept in the garden. So in the world oit dd-j the h irch Christ had planted a great iflfr.iy beautiful things—patien e, charity, gener osity, integrity, but hu intends the choicest fruits to be in the ga-den, and if they are not there, then shame on th? cliur. h. Relig ion is not a mere flowering sentimentality. It is a practical, life-giving, healthful fruit, not posies, but apples. “ Oh,” says somebody, “ I don’t s-e what your garden of the church has yielded.’’ Where did your asylums come from.'land your hospitals! and your insti tutions of mercy! Christ planted every one of them: He planted th? n in His garden. Wh n Christ gave sight to Bartimeus He laid the corner-stone of every blind asylum that has ever been built. ' When Christ soothed the demoniac of Galilee He laid the corner-stone of every lunatic asylum that has ever been established. When Christ said to ♦ho sick man: “Taka up thy bed and walk,” He laid the corner-stone of every hospital the world has ever seen. When Christ said: “I was in prison and ye visited me,” He laid the corner-stone of every prison reform associa tion that has ever been formed. The church of Christ is a glorious garden and it is full of fruit. I know there is some poor fruit in it. I know there are some weeds that ought to Ire thrown over the fence. I know there are some crabapple trees that ought to be cut down. I know there are some wild grapes that ought to be uprooted; but are you going to destroy the whole garden because of a lit tle gnarled fruit! You will find worm-eaten leaves in Fontainebleau and insects that sting in the fairy groves of the Champs Elysees. You do not tear down and destroy the whole garden because there are a few specimens of gnarled fruit. I admit there are men and women in the rtiurch who ought not to be there; but let us be just as frank and admit the fa-t that there are hundreds and thousands and tens of thousands of glori ous Christian men and-women—holy,l les ed, useful, consecrated and triumphant. There is no grander collection in nil the earth than the collection of Christians. There are Christian men in this house whoso religion is not a matter of psalm-singing aud church going. To-morrow morning that rcli gion will keep them just as consistent and consecrated in their worldly occupation as it ever kept them at the communion table. There are women hero to-day of a higher type of (haracter than Mary of Bethany. They not only sit'at the feet of Christ, but they go out into the kitchen to help Martha in her work that she may sit there too. There is a woman who ha; a drunken husband who has exhibited more faith and patience and courage than Ridley in the fire. He was con sumed in twenty minutes. Her s has been a twenty years’ martyrdom. Yonder is a man who has been fifteen years on his back, un able even to feed himself, yet calm and peace ful as though he lay on one of the green banks of heaven, watchm ' the oarsmen dip their paddles in the crystal river. Why, it seems to me this moment as if St. Paul threw to us a pomologist s catalogue of the fruits grow ing in this great garden of Christ—love, joy, peace, patience, charity, brotherly kindness, gentleness, mercy—glorious fruit, enough to fill all the baskets of earth and heaven. I have not told you of the better tree in this garden and of the better fruit. It was planted just outside Jerusalem, a good while ago. When that tree was planted it was so split and bruised and barked men said noth ing would ever grow upon it; but no sooner had that tree been planted than it budded and blossomed and fruited, and the soldiers’ spears were only the clubs that Str ick down that fruit nnd it fell into the lap of the na tions, and men began to pick it up and eat it, aud they found in it an antidote to all thirst, to all poison, to all sin, to all death—the smallest cluster larger than the famous one of Itshcol. which two men carried in a staff between them. If the apple in Eden killed the race, this one cluster of mercy shall re store it. Again, the church in my text is appropri ately called a garden because it is thor oughly irrigated. No garden could prosper long without plenty of water. I have seen a garden in the midst of a desert, yet bloom ing and luxuriant. All around was dearth and barrenness; but there were pipes and aque ducts reaching from this garden up to the mountains, aud through those aqueducts the water came streaming down and tossing up into beautiful fountains until every root and leaf and flower we re saturated. That is like the church. The church is a garden in the midst of a great desert of sin aud suffering; but it is well irrigated, for “our eyes are unto the hills from when -e cometh our help.” From the mountains of God’s strength there flow down rivers of gladness. There is a river the stream whereof shall make glad the city of our God. Preaching the gospel is one of those aqueducts. The Bible is an other. Baptism and the Lord's Supper are aqueducts. Water to slake the thirst, water to restore the faint, water to wash th? un elean, water tossed high un in the light of the Sun of Righteousness, showing the rain bow around the throne. Oh. was there ever a garden so thoroughly irrigated! You know that the beauty of Versailles and Chatsworth depends very much upon the great supply of water. I came to the latter place, Chatsworth, one day when strangers are not to be admitted; but by an inducement which always seemed as applicable to an Englishman as an Ameri can, I got in, and then the gardener went far up above the stairs of stone and turned on the water. I saw it gleaming on the dry pavement, coming down from step to step until it came so near I could hear the musi cal rush, and all over the high, broad stairs it came foaming, flashing, roaring down until sunlight and wave in gleesome wrestle tumbled at my feet. So it is with the church of God. Everything comes from above, joy from above, adoption from above, satisfac tion from above. Oh, that now God would turn on the waters of salvation, that they might flow down through this heritage, and that to-day we might find this place to be “Elim, with twelve wells of water and three score and ten palm trees.” Hark! 1 hear the latch of the garden gate, and I look to see who is coming. I hear the voice of Christ: “I am come into my gar den ” I say: “Come in, O Jesus, we have been waiting for Thee; walk all through the paths. Look at the flowers, look at the fruit: pluck that which Thou wilt for Thyself.” Jesus comes into the garden and up to that old man and touches him and says: “Almost home, father, not many more aches for thee: I will never leave thee: I will never forsake thee; take courage a little longer and I will steady thy tottering steps and I will soothe thy troubles and give thee rest; courage, old man.” Then Christ goes up another garden path and He comes to a soul in trouble and he says; “Peace! all is well. I haveseen thy tears; I have heard thy prayer. The sun shall not smite thee by day nor the moon by night The Lord shall preserve thee from all evil. He will preserve thy soul. Courag", O troubled spirit! ’ Then I see Jesus going up another garden path and I see gr at excitement among the leaves, and I hasten up that gar den rath to see what Jesus is doing there, an 1 lo! He is breaking off I'owers sharp aud clean from the stem, and I say. Jesup don’t kill those beautiful flowers.” He turns t> me and savs: “I have comeinto my garden to gather lilies, and I mean to ta e th so up t> a higher terra ea id tor the gar den around my j al-ic -. an I there I will pl ,nt them, and in bettor soil and better air they shall put forth la-icliter leaves and sweeter redolen e. and no frost shall touch them for ever.” And I looked uj> into His face and said: “Weil, it is His garden, and He has • fight to do xvhat Ho will with it Thy wll be done!'’—the hardest prayer a man ever made. It has seemed as if Jesus Christ took the best: from many of your households the laist one is gone. You knew that she was too good for this world: she ««- the gentlest in her ways, the deepeet iu her affections; and when at last the sicknees lame you had n ! laith in medicines. You knew that Jesu was coming over the doonill. i'ou knew the hour of parting had come, and when through ths rich grace of the Lord Jesus Christ you surrendered that treasure you said: “Lord Jesus, take it—it is the best we have—take it Thou art worthy.” The others in the household may have been of grosser mould. She was of the finest line day n man was taking me from the depot toa village. He was I very rough and coarse, and very blasphe mous; but after awhile he mellowed down as | he began to talk of his little son whom he had lost. “Oh! sir,” lie said, “that boy was different from the rest of us. He never used . any bad language; no sir, I never heard him use al ad word in my life. He used to say his prayers and we laughed at him, but ho would ke’non saying his prayers. I often Ihiught. T <au’t keep that child,’ and I said to my wife: ‘Mother, we < au't keep that child.’ But, sir, the day he was drowned, mid they brought him in and laid him on the carpet, so white and so beautiful, my heart broke, sir; I knew we couldn't keeji him.” The heaven of your little ones will not be fairly begun until you get then'. All the kindnesses shown them by immortals will not make them forget you. There they are, the radiant throngs that went out from your homes. I throw a kiss to the sweet darlings. They are all w-ell now in the palace. The crippled child has a sound foot now. A littl > lame child savs: “Ma, will I be lame in heaven." “No, my darling, you won’t be lame in heaven.” A little sick child says: I “Ma, will I be sick in heaven!” “No. my I dear, you won’t be sick in heaven.” A little blind child says: “Ma, will I be blind in heaven!” “No, my dear, you won’t be blind -in 11 aven. They are all well there.” 1 notice that the line gardens sometimes have high fences around them and I cannot get in. It is so with a King’s garden. The only glimpse you ever get of Slum a garden is when the King rides out in his splendid car riage It is not so with this garden, this King’s garden. I throw- wide open the gate and tell you all to come in. No monopoly in religion. Whosoever will may choose now between a desert and a garden. Many of you have tried the garden of this world's delight. You have found it has oeen a chagrin. So it was with Theo dore Hook. He makes us laugh now when eve read his poems; but he could not make his own heart laugh. While in the midst of his festivities ho confronted a look ing-glass and he saw himself aud said: , “There, that is true. I look just as I am, done up iu body, mind and purse.” So it was of Shenstone, of whose garden I told you at the beginning of my sermon. He sat down amid thosw bowers and said; “I have lost my road to sappiness. lam angry and envious and frantic, and despise everything around me just as it becomes a madman to do.” Oh ye weary souls, come into Christ's garden to-day and pluek a little hearts ea-e. Christ is the only rest and the only pardon for a perturbed spirit. Do you not think your chance has almost come ? j You men and w omen who have been w aiting year after year for s one good oportunity in which to accept Christ, but have post oned it five, ten, twenty, thirty years, do you not feel as it now your hour of deliver ance and pardon and salvation haleonie! Oh man, w hat grudge hast thon against thy poor soul that thou wilt not let it be saved ! I feel as if salvation must come to-day in some of your hearts. Some years ago a vessel struck on the rocks. jTliey had only one lifeboat. In thatlife boat the passengers and crew were getting ashore. The vessel had foundered and was sinking deeper aud that one boat could not take the passengers very swiftly. A little girl stood on the deck waiting for her turn to get into the boat. The boat came and went, came aud went, but her turn did not seem to come. After awhile she could wait no longer and she leaped on the taffrail and then sprang into thu sea, crying to the boat men: -‘Save me next! Save me next!” Oh, how many have gone ashore into God’s mercy and yet you are clinging to the wreck of sin. Others have accepted the pardon of Christ, but you are in peril. Why not. this moment, make a rush for your immortal rescue, cry ing until Jesus shall hear you and heaven and earth ring with the cry: “Save me next! Save me next!” Now is the day of salvation! i Now! Now! This Sabbath is the last for some of you. It is about to sail away forever. Her bell tolls. The planks thunder back in the gang way. She shoves off, she floats toward the great ocean of eternity. Wave farewell to your last chance for heaven. Oh, Jerusa lem, Jerusalem, how often would I have gathered thee as a hen gathereth her brood under her wings and ye would not. Behold your house is left unto you desolate. Invited to revel in a garden, you die in a desert. May God Almighty, before it is too late, break that infatuation. KENTUCKY TRAGEDY. A .‘Sharp Fuailade Opened L'p Just For Fun—The Result. Jack Moore, who was shot Friday in a street fight at Mount Vernon, Kentucky, died Saturday morning, and his brother Tom died a few hours after. The particularsof the terrible affair are about as follows: Judge G. W. Mc- Clure, Lee Carter, ‘Jack and Tom Moore had a dispute about the re cent kuklux trouble of the county, and f. fight ensued. McClure grappled with Jack Moore, and was fired on by Tom M< orc. Carter then opened on Tom Moore, and they emptied their revolvers at each other. Jack Moore and McClure were separated. The Moore boys then armed themselves with guns, and were walking down the strict, when they met Carter. Jack fired at Carter, but missed, and Carter shot him down with a load 01 buckshot. Tom’s shot also missed, and he, in turn, fell by his brother, pierced with six balls. McClure was shot twice but not dangerously. He gave himself up. Carter escaped uninjured, and has fled. McClure is ex-sheriff, and was judge of the county court. The Moore boys are the sons of a Methodist minister. Carter is a lawyer. There is much ex citement over the affair, and the friends of both sides are flocking into Mt. Ver non, though no further trouble is ex pected. BLOWN VP BY DYNAMITE. A dispatch from Wheeling, W. Va., says: At an early hour Sunday morning Benze Ramage, a merchant at Union Coal works, 11 miles down the river on the Ohio side, was killed and hi%store blown to atoms by dynamite deposited beneath it. Henry Campbell, a former partner of Ramage, was arrested on suspicion of causing the explosion. Ramage was burned and mangled almost teyond re cognition. TRIED TO WHIP A NCIIOOL TEACHER. A special dispatch from Bamberg, S. C., says: “In the forks of the Edisto Monday, a school teacher named King, was assaulted by Thomas Williams and several friends, who dragged him from his buggy and tried to whip him. King thereupon shot Williams, inflicting a fatal wound.” CHILDREN’S COLUMN. Rork*a-By«. “Rock-ai-bye- bab es, upon the tree-top,” To her young the mother-bird sings, “When the wind’s still, the rooking will stop, And then you may all use your wings.” “Rix-k a?bye, babies, under the eaves” The swaitew croons to her brood, “Here you* are safer, my children, from thievek Than if I had built in the wood ” “Bock-a-bye, babies, the river runs deep,” The reed-bind trills to her flock, “The river stirs only to to sing you to sleep. The wind your green cradle to rock!” —Mary N. Pracott, In St. Nioholas, The Lesson lie Learned from a Nnall. Freddy sat on a wall in the garden with a book in his hand, at which he was looking with a very sad face. “I’m sure I shall never learn it!” ho cried, in tones of despair. The schoolmaster had given all the boys a holiday task, and Freddy Scott had let the time slip away without touch ing a book till only a week was left and he had his long poem to learn by heart. Like most boys he wished to get the prize, but did not like the labor of work ing for it. Rather an idle lad was Mas ter Freddy, in fact, though ho had got it into his head somehow that he was not so clever as other boys, and that it was not much use for hi tn to try. He was thinking that very thing just now, when his eye fell upon a snail crawl ing up the bottom of the wall on which he sat. “Surely,” thought he, “that silly thing is not going to try to get to the top nt that pace!” Yet slowly, as he watched it—very slowly—the snail came nearer and near er, until at length the summit was reached, and, as if iu triumph, the old snail reared itself up and waved its horns, till Freddy laughed outright. Then the thought flashed upon—Sup pose the snail had said what he had, “It is of no use trying 1” He would never have reached the top of the wall; that was certain. “I wont be beaten by a snail 1” cried he; and he set to work at once in down right earnest, aud by the time the holi days came to an end he knew his poem by heart and could recite it without a mistake. Prize day came, and the boys listened eagerly for the prize-boys’ names. Fred dy's surprise can scarcely be imagined when he heard his own called out; but there was no mistake about; he had won a prize. The Little Bird Which Npoke. Once upon a time there lived a little boy who spent all his time either in bird’s-nesting or in setting traps to catch the old birds. The other children used to tell him that it was very wrong thus to kill the poor birds, who did harm to no one. But he would answer, “I don’t care; its good fun.” One day he caught a pretty bird, with green, yellow and red feathers. You may fancy how pleased lie was. “Alas!” said the bird, “are you going to kill me, too?” “Holloa,” cried the little boy, “my bird can speak 1” “Won’t you let me go?" continued the bird. “Oh, no,” he answered, “you speak too well, and your feathers arc too pretty for that; besides, I’ve got you, and you belong to me.” The bird said no more, feeling sure it was no use reasoning with such a naughty boy. That very same day, in the evening, as the child was playing in a neighboring wood, a great giant suddenly appeared among the trees. The little boy, with a scream of terror, tried to run away. The giant, however, put his foot before him and stopped him, for the little fellow was no higher than the giant’s instep. He stooped down, and taking the child be tween his finger and thumb, lifted him up to his eyes. The poor fellow scream ed as loudly as he could, but the giant only exclaimed, “Why, this little ani mal can scream!” “Alas! Mr. Giant,” said the child, “I’m not a little anima), but an unfortu nate little boy, who begs you not to kill him.” The giant then began to skip over the tops of the trees for joy, exclaiming, “This little thing can speak!” The poor child, with joined hands be gan to entreat: “Oh, please, do let me go!” “No, no,” replied he, “you talk so nicely, and you are such a nice little fel low, I should like to keep you. Do you remember,” he continued, “that you said the same this morning to your pretty bird? Besides, I’ve got you, so you be long to me. ” “I was very naughty then and made bad use of my strength.” “I know that very well,” replied the giant, “and I might do the same; if I liked I could even kill you, but I will be more just. I only want to teach you that it is very wrong to do harm only because you have the jwwer to do it. Go and tet your bird loose, and in future don’t destroy birds as you have done.” You may be sure he agreed to this. He at once let fly his many-colored bird, and during the remainder of hfs life never forgot the lesson he had been thus caught— French Fabia. TiieMost Perfect Instrmnent t". World. Used Exclusively atthe “Grand Conservatory of music,” OF NEW YORK. Endorsed by all Eminent Artists, row’ PH ICES! KASY TKIiMS ! AUGUSTUS BAUS & CO.'M'fbs. Warerooms. 58 W. 23d St. New York. IThii Wash Board la made of ONB SOLID SHBET Os BEATYCORBU® BATED ZINC, which produce* a double-facad board of th* beat quality and durability. The fluting 1* very deep, holdina more water, and conacqnently d(Oing bettei waahing than any wuwh board in the market. Theframeio made of hard wood, and held together with an iron bolt run tu'bS k'innid 1 ™ the lower edge oftbe zinc.thua binding the whole touclher In the molt nub aUntlal manner, and producing a waah board which for economy,excellence and dur ability ia unquestionably the boat in the world. We fiud mo many dealers that object to our board oa account of its IH KABILITY, aaying “It will laet too long, wo can never aell a auatomer but co#.” We take thia in earn to advice consumer* to IMSIS'I' upon having the NORTH STAR WASH BOARD. THK BEST THK CKEAPECT. Baan&ctured by PFANSCHMIDT, DODGE & 248 & 250 West Polk Bt.« Chicago, 111. to tin Finest in tic Worll These Extracts never vary. SUPERIOR FOR STRENGTH, QUALITY, PURITY, ECONOMY, ETC. Made from Selected Fruit, and Sploei, Insist on having Bastino'e Flavors AND TAKE NO OTHERS. SOLD BY ALL GROCERS. BASTIWE & CO., 41 Warren St., New York. theQRRVILLE CHAMPION COMBINED ter Holler. Acknoxvlcducd by Thre.lierm.-n to b« The Kins ! Will do the work of two neparalo maclitnea. Mo Clover Unll.-rle nota almple attachment bat • separate hullli.|f cylinder conrtrnctad aud PPe’n led upon the moat approved acjentlllc prlncfpieii. Han the widest separating capaoity at any machine In the market. I. Ilgtat, contpact. durable, um. bftt one belt aftd renutre. >*<•» power and haw fewer than any other machine. No .Implo In< on.truetl«n that Uh.eu If stood. Will thresh perfectly all kin. peas, timothy, fl»x, clover, etc. fiend for ' '’ c u>» r » price list, etc., of Tbn-ejiers, Bagjnea, M1 and Grain Registers, mid to sure to mention thia paper. Agents wanted. Address THE KOPPES MACHINE CO. ORRVILLE, O. JOHNSON S ANOOYNE wy-CTnira TMphtharla, Cronp. A»thmA, Bronohitl*. Nturalfia. Bbaumatlsm, Bleeding at the tmpi, «oar»en«M, Lnfluenea, j?ackinrOou<h.Whooplnt Cough. C*arrKutu»lara Morbt»*. Ohwaio tMarrtocea, Kidney Trouble*, oud Spinal Diaeaae*. Pamphlet fr—. Dr. I. 8. Joluwoo >Um. pAft SONS’’SPILES * These pills wore a wonderful dleoovery. No other* like in the world. Wis. poettiveJy cune or relieve all manner of disease. The information around eeob Lox ie worth tea time* the cost of a boa of «Ua. Find out about them and be thankful. One pUI a does. 11 tartrated DamphUt te. .Bold eve ywhere, or eent by mail for2ho. In stamps. Dr. I. 8. JORWHON fHOQ.. 32 O H No Robbing! No Rafkicbe! No forr Fingers! not to ire the Clothes, Ask yovrv Grocer for It. If he caunot sup ply yon, ouo cako will be nuii •••! ruts on receipt of»lxtwocent etHiup* for pi'*Uge. A beautiful nine-colored ••Chremo” with three Imre. Deal on and Grocer* should write lor particular*. C. A. SHOUDY & SON, ROCKFORD. XX.X.. DURKEE’S nESICCATEfj S v CELERY Ml POSSESSING THE 'AWBL* COMPLETE SgZr.’ FLAVOR OF_THE PLANT gM GAUNTLF.T..BRAND Hspic'es SALAD DRESSING £; FLAV ORING gn /‘EXTRACTS ' li BAKING POWDER 1 CH& llei ß s AUCe O MEATS. FISH & GENUINE INDIA ■CURRY POWDER I THE- J liAWRENGE PURE' UNSEED'OIL n MIXED FAINTS READY FOR USE. W Tlie Beat Paint Made. Ounrantoed to contain no water, benzine, barytes, chemicals, rubjber, asbestos, rosin, aloes oil, or otfter similar adulterations. A full fl us ran tee on every nggkaae and directions for use, <Q &At any one not a practical painter <)*h uaALL Handsome sample cards, ehovdtd 88 beautiful amKtes, milled tre*2* application. kept by ybMr dealer, write tp-us. ’ B. careful to »«k UWBENCE PAHTUM” •nd do not take any olhdF said to be “at gooot* Lawrence’s.’* - LW. W. LAWRENCE & 00., 1 PITTSBURGH, PA. you Mcy paint you should w examine WETHERiLL’S vEKpSvW? 'wfitiffi'SXwlll/ Portfolio of yKj®/' * \ Artistic Designs Old Fashioned \ TV’ Houses, Queen An no ■✓wh lwy Cottages, Huhurban «h&Besldences, etc. ,col / ** ore<! to match / JvjvoSl w*A»A. shadesof V^~*iS<7^ fttlas “' :i;Pa ® t * f, d showing tho latest and moat ef focttve combtnaUon — of colors in house •..wm. kV ■ your dealer nan not •f •<•’/ F act our portfolio, auk him ,»>•■• b to ar'iid to ue for one. You •!1“* ,!, can then nee eaactry how ‘ATLAS 1 IK nJ your house will appear READY- \ M 5 when finished. MIXED \ -SV I Do this M'd use "Atlas'* eatsT 41 Ready-Mlxsq Pslntand in- r " . IxjH tlil sure yotfrsou satisfaction. CM kpSecourOuarautee. I 11ff Geo.D. Wetherfll & Co. All LEAD and PAINT MANUFACTURERS, 7 iA PHILAD’A, PA.