Decatur Democrat, Volume 39, Number 1, Decatur, Adams County, 22 March 1895 — Page 9

- — — ! .. ■- BURT TO’S EXECUTION? A Tale of Love and Electricity—Written for This Paper by Ingersoll Lack wood. (Oopyrlaht. All Righto RsservSd.J

~ CHAPTER ll.—Continued. A sudden feeling of apprehension almoat took away his breath. Throwing the flsh one aide of the path and his rod the other, he darted forward, calling as he went: “Mr. Norris! Mr. Norris!" WMh a cry of horror he started back as ho almost stumbled over the banker's proattate form. With his breath coming fast and hard Tyler turned the body over, for it had fallen on its face. Freed from prooaure the life-blood gushed anew from the pierced breast. Watch and chain were gone, and the hunting shirt had been slit open and the money belt rifled of its contents. Springing to his feet and raising his clenched flat aloft, Burt Tyler cried: “Murder! Murder! Murder!" in tones so terrible, half shriek, half roar, that the distant hills sent back the cry and the birds of the night answered from the forest depths. Then dropping upon his knees again this child of Nature, crying and sobbing like a mother over her dead babe, stroked the banker’s hands, smoothed his hair, patted his cheeks and called him by name in tones so piteous that they would have moved the heart of the very murderer could he have heard them. To this violent outburst of mingled grief and horror succeeded a fit of deep and silent despair, too deep for words or even groans. The night had fallen, and amid the gloom of the whispering pine trees huge white owls flitted spirit-like from bough to bough, uttering their plaintive cry as they looked wondering down upon Burt Tyler seated on the ground and clasping the hand of his murdered friend. The rumbling of thunder, faint and low in the distant mountains, roused Burt from his awful reverie, and ever and anon the flash of the lightning, dim and uncertain, like the sudden flicker of a dying flame, lit up ths pine forest and showed him Norris’ white, upturned face. One single thought now seised upon Tyler's mind, to wit, the immediate necessity of reaching Gilroy’s and alarming the country. With a sudden impulse he started on a run along the trail, which was so well known to him that he could almost follow it with his eyes shut. Then quite as suddenly he halted and turned back. His whole nature rebelled at the thought of leaving Norris’ body lying there on the ground. And yet how could he protect it? Time passed. Every moment lost was just so much gain for the murderer. There was but one thing to do, and that to carry the body back to Gilroy’s. But he needed his hands to feel his way, to grope along from one biased tree to another. They must be free. How then could he load the dead man upon his back? Suddenly It occurred to him that there was a large hempen bag somewhere among his traps. With a wild and furious energy he tore it asunder, and then hastening to the spot where lay his murdered friend, he drew' the bag up over him, beginning at his feet, tied the mouth securely, and, with the aid of a leather strap, which he passed around his neck, . slung the burden over his shoulders and staggered to his feet. The storm was coming nearer and nearer. To the cries of wild fowl and savage beasts, which broke forth at every flash of lightning, Burt's ears were as deaf as those of him he bore upon his shoulders. A single thought urged Tyler with the stride of one possessed along the trail. The storm now burst upon him, lighting him on his way, as it disclosed the white patches of the blazes. He had thrown off hat and ooat at the start, and now the rain beat piteously upon him, drenching him to the skin ere he had been an hour under way. But it cooled the terrible fever that seemed to be burning into his very brain, and kept his parched lips from cracking like leaves in a midsummer drought. On, on through the ever-increasing fury of the storm, Burt Tyler groped his way along the trail, guided by some mysterious power when impenetrable gloom followed the vivid flash of lightning. The one thought that by the use of his wonderful powers of endurance he might be able to reach Gilroy’s and send out a party in time to overtake the murderer urged him to break into a run at times when a flash of lightning showed him a straight stretch of path before him. Friendly as the storm fiend had been up to that moment, he now began to impede Burt’s, progress. Several times in its fury the gale wrenched huge branches from the swaying, creaking trees and hurled them upon the flying messenger of vengeance. Thrice he fell headlong over the fallen debris; but what were hurts and bruises to Burt Tyler that night ? He felt them not, and only halted long enough for the lightning flash to show him the trail again. Once he was almost certain he heard a human voice cry out in pain ahead of him. But it might have been the scream pf some frightened fowl. At last toward midnight the storm passed over and the black clouds drifted slowly away, and a cry of joy escaped from Tyler’s lips as he saw that it was strangely light and recollected that the moon was full. Again and again he broke into a run as he reached a clearing. Daylight came at last, and Burt’s keep „ eye caught glimpses of an old oak, which told him he was within a few miles gs Gilroy's. It was about seven when the guide’s towering form and the strange load it carried were seeji by some of his neighbors, who called out to him as he passed to know what the matter wag. But Tyler neither halted nor made reply. In a few moments he bounded up the steps of the little hostelry, and, striding into the bar-room with a wild and animallike glare in his eyes, unstrapped the bag and laid it on the table. “For God’s sake, Burt!” cried Gttroy, Jj’what has happened? Where is Mr; Norris?" '"ln that bag!” waa Burt’s reply, pointing at the terrible burden which he had just laid on the table. "What—dead ?” stammered out Gilroy, turning ashen pale. '*■ - - ', “Yes, dead!” was Burt’s answer. “Murdered! I’ve done my duty, Gilroy. I carried him all the way from Coy’s Lake. “Now you people do yours. I’m tired—l need rest—l must get to bed,” and, with unearthly fire darting from his great, dark eyes, Burt Tyler turned and hastened off home. In a half-hour's time the - ' ■ " ... . Si-

news of the brutal murder of the New York banker was known to every inhabitant of the little settlement. The morning meal was left untouched upon the tables. Men, women and children gathered hi little knots here and there, discussing the killing and the probable authors of the dreadful deed. Prominent among the excited groups of the villagers was Jack Caneff, strangely cool and self-pos-1 E|||3 Ji • IN THAT BAG I’ * sessed and perfectly sober—so unusual a thing for him that Gilroy noticed it, and remarked to Kate, “Well, this murder has frightened the rum ont of Jack Caneff, anyway. He looks this morning quite the old-time Jack, sleek, clean and dandified. It is astonishing." But not even Jack Caneff, as deadly as was his hatred of Burt Tyler, had, or at least expressed, a thought or as much as darkly hinted at any theory that this dreadful murder was the act of the tall guide who now lay abed under the Carey roof, tossing wildly about in the delirium of fever, and muttering incoherently of the heart-rending scene of the past night The moment the first overpowering effect of the shock had spent its force, there was a hurried consultation between the justice of the peace, the deputy sheriff and constables. Jack Caneff’s theory was that the murder had been committed by a party of French half-breed trappers who scoured the woods this time of the year for pelts and antlers. Several parties were at once organized and sent out to follow the trail to Coy’s Lake and make thorough search at and around the spot where the crime was committed for some clue to the mystery. The few neighbors who were admitted by the Careys to assist them in caring for the sick man one and all shook their heads and murmured: “Poor Burt, that fever’ll soon use him up, big and strong as he is. He’ll never live to tell the little he knows of Banker Norris’ death 1" And, in truth, for a few days it did look as if Tyler was going to die without regaining his mind. Like an angel of power and light, little Ann hung over him. Her very voice, her very touch, seemed to carry balm to his fever-scorched brain. Several times the doctor laid his hand on the young girl’s head and whispered: “Make up your mind for the worst, my child. It will soon be all over.” These words only seemed to nerve the maiden to renewed efforts. When at length her strength failed her she continued to direct the efforts of others and to insist upon the constant use of cooling drinks and applications. At midnight on the seventh day Tyler opened his eyes, and, fixing them on his faithful nurse, murmured slowly: “I see you, little Ann.” The fever was broken at last. As the day dawned, however, another complication set in. The most excruciating pain began to shoot from joint to joint. In spite of his heroic effort to conceal his sufferings from the Careys, they saw enough to occasion them the greatest solicitude. The physician pronounced it a bad attack of inflammatory rheumatism, the result of exposure and overstraining of the system, but seemed to be perfectly confident of his ability to cure the ailment. Day by day went by and yet Burt grew no better. The most powerful remedies brought no relief, and when Tyler saw that the terrible disease was gradually but surely fixing its grip of iron upon him the kindly gleam went out of his eyes and his voice lost its soft, mellow tone. Still little Ann was light-hearted and hopeful with it all, even when the terrible news reached her that Burt had been indicted for the murder of Banker Norris, that it would be necessary that the officers of the law should search the house thoroughly, and that henceforth and until Burt’s recovery and removal to a jail a deputy sheriff would guard the house night and day. Borne of Tyler’s friends tried to break the force of the news by saying that as Burtsall Tyler was the last person seen with the New York banker in his lifetime, it wai quite natural that Tyler should be held responsible for the killing; but that it was a mere form of law and that no human being for one moment believed that Burt Tyler was a murderer. Others, however, looked grave, and said that they had heard that things had been found out which put cquite a different aspect upon the ihatter. Anyway, at present it was quite out of the question to think of trying Burt for the crime. He grew worse from week to week, until at last he lay as stiff and helpless as the trunk of some pine tree hurled to the ground by a thunderbolt. His magnificently molded limbs lost their roundness, his hands and fingers became bent and twisted, while cheeks an<j brow showed hollows astonishingly deep for the short time he had been ailing. A cry of horror and despair escaped his lips one morning when some meddlesome neighbor in little Ann's absence held a mirror up before his eyes. But so patient, so like an angel of sweetness and love was little Ann, that Burt was able to keep a few sparks of hope alive in his breast. It was hoping against hope, however, for it was plain to be seen that Burt Tyler would never be himself again. Keeping even pace with the ravages of the terrible disease which had ndw shriveled, wasted and twisted thiquaplendid specimen of manhood, his disposition underwent a most remarkable transformation. From being one ot the cheeriest, kindest and most fun-loving of men. Tyler became

r’*' 1 - 1 "- —. •alien, mofose and choleric. His big, brown eyes glared upon his visitors with a strange and animal-like gleam. He became subject to sudden fits of passion. Every one save little Ann stood in mortal dread of him. The physician appointed by the court to examine him now reported that his ailment had become chronic, and that it would not put his life in jeopardy to have him carried into court while his trial was in progress. When little Ann Informed her lover of the action of the authorities, and that his trial would begin the next week, Burt merely closed his eyes and murmured: “Poor fools! But I suppose it was the only thing they could do, little Ann.” Burt’s case had already become a most celebrated one, both in his own and the adjoining counties, and had the courthouse been as large as the Coliseum at Rome it could not have accommodated the vast concourse of people that poured into the county seat on the opening day of the trial. A number of special officers were sworn in to maintain order in and around the courthouse, among them Jack Caneff, whose reformation now seemed complete. His neatness of appearance and old-time jaunty air were remarked by everybody. Armed with his staff of of-, flee, he exercised with great dignity the duty of keeping order in the main aisle of the court-room. And here, too, during recess and before and after the daily sessions of the court, Jack, always surrounded by a group of breathless listeners, held forth in eloquent manner on the question of the mysterious killing of the New York banker, always ending up his speech with a solemn asseveration that Burt Tyler wgs as innocent of the murder as a new-born babe. The people believed him, too. In fact, it was hard to find any one ready to lay the awful deed on Burt’s shoulders, although many were forced to admit that appearances were against him. The first day of the term was consumed in securing a jury, and by consent of counsel and special order of the Judge, Burt was not introduced in court. On the morning of the second day, amid a silence as deep as death itself, the prisoner, stretched upon an iron bedstead, the clothes of which completely covered his twisted and shrunken limbs, leaving only his head and face exposed, was gently and tenderly carried into the courtroom. The Careys were permitted to take seats beside him, little Ann at the head of the bed, where she sat with her loving and hopeful eyes fixed upon Tyler’s face. Burt paid little or no heed to the proceedings. Occasionally his lips would move, and a smile faint and sad would light up his countenance as he fixed his large, lustrous eyes, now apparently the only part of him alive, upon little Ann. Burt’s perfect indifference to his fate had in some way or other inspired little Ann with an idea that this whole solemn proceeding was in reality nothing more than an empty, though necessary and painful, ceremony. She had been informed that she would be called to the stand and questioned very closely by the prosecuting attorney. But what did she know? What could she say but to repeat her already thousand times expressed opinion that her lover was as guiltless of the banker’s death as she herself? Her composure was admirable as she detailed her last interview with Tyler, particularly on the night preceding and the morning of his start into the woods with Mr. Norris. Burt had turned his head and lay with his gaze riveted upon the speaker. At times his lips moved and tears broke over his eyes, giving them a most tender and pitiful expression. All went well until the prosecuting attorney, stooping down, drew from a drawer of the table at which he was standing a small workbox of polished wood. Its cover was most ingeniously Inlaid with bits of different-colored woods, forming a pleasing ’mosaic, in the center of which appeared the initials A. C. Inside were the usual compartments of a lady’s workbox, each being lined with velvet and fitted with covers having little ivory knobs. The box had been a Christmas present to Ann from Burt the year before, and made as it had been completely by his own hands, she prized it very highly; but not a shadow of a suspicion that any point was about to be scored against her poor lover came over her face as she saw the little box held up before her. “Is this your property, Miss Carey?" was the question put to her. “It is.” “From whom did you receive it?” “It was a present from Burt last Christmas.” “Has it been out of you possession, Miss Carey?” pursued the attorney, in a mild but measured tone of voice, “since that day?” “So far as I know, air,” replied Ann, “it has not” “Did you ever see this ring before, Miss Carey?” asked the attorney. “Never, sir!” was the firm reply that fell from Ann’s lips. “That will do, Miss Carey.” said the attorney for the. State quietly, “we have no more questions to ask you.” Ann resumed her seat at the head of Burt’s bed. A slight pallor had settled upon her cheeks, but the same sweet, hopeful smile was there. J A constable was now called to the witness stand. He testified to the searching of the Careys’ house and to his finding the workbox in a small closet built into the side of the chimney, and not visible from the center of the room. A question from the prosecuting officer drew forth the fact that the ring was in the box when found, as above described. “We now call our last witness," remarked the State’s attorney. The person designated, a clean-shaven, ( gray-eyed man of about fifty, a wellknown chemical expert, stepped forward and took the witness chair. The preliminary statements of this gentleman set forth when, where and under what circumstances the ring came into his possession. “Did you find any marks, stains or discolorations upon this ring?” queried the prosecuting attorney. Burt’s eyes were closed. Little Ann’s lips parted, and fbr the very first time her face took on a look of fear and dread. Her heart rose in her throat and seemed upon the point of strangling her. “I did,” replied the witness. “What is their nature?" came now, quickly and nervously, from the attorney. "They are stains resulting from human blood drying upon the metal." spoke this witness slowly and with a terrible distinctness. A sob, perfectly audible throughout the whole court-room, broke from little Ann’s lips, and bending forward she buried her face in Burt’s pillow. “Poor little Ann! Poor little Ann!” murmured Tyler softly and gently. Tears were flowing from the eyts of thf strongest men present - — Ho be continnsdJ - - - . ■

TALMAGE’S SERMON. THE GREAT PREACHER TALKS ON UNHAPPY MARRIAGES. Lax Divorce Laws Due Primarily to Free Love Agitation, Mormonism and Unhealthy Fiction—Hasty and 111-Considered Matches Too Plenty. A Family Skeleton. Rev. Dr. Talmage chose as the subject of his afternoon sermon In the New York Academy of Music Sunday a topic of national interest, viz., “Wholesale Divorce.” The great audience repeatedly showed its appreciation of the sentiments expressed by the reverend speaker, and his sturdy blows in behalf of the protection of the household and against- the dissoluteness of modern society were received with marked appreciation. The text selected was Matthew xix., 6, “What, therefore, God hath joined together let not man put asunder.” That there are hundreds and thousands of infelicitous homes in America no one will doubt. If there were only one skeleton in the closet, that might be locked up and abandoned, bnt in many a home there is a skeleton in the hallway and a skeleton in all the apartments. “Unhappily married" are two words descriptive of many a homestead. It needs no orthodox minister to prove to a badly mated pair that there is a hell. They are there now. Sometimes a grand and gracious woman will be thus incarcerated, and her life will be a crucifixion, as was the case with Mrs. Sigourney, the great poetess and the great soul. Sometimes a consecrated man will be united to a fury, as was John Wesley, or united to a vixen, as was John Milton. Sometimes, and generally, both parties are to blame, and Thomas Carlyle was, an intolerable scold, and his wife smoked and swore, and Froude, the historian, pulled aside the curtain from the lifelong squabble at Craigenputtock and Five, Cheyne Row. Some say that for the alleviation of all these domestic disorders of which we hear easy divorce is a good prescription. God sometimes authorizes divorce as certainly as he authorizes marriage. I have just as much regard for one lawfully divorced as I have for one lawfully married. But you know and I know that wholesale divorce is one of our national scourges. I am not surprised at this when I think of the influences which have been abroad Militating against the marriage relation. A Pernicious Doctrine. For many years the platforms of the country rang with talk about a free love millennium. There were meetings of this kind held in the Cooper Institute, New York; Tremont Temple, Boston, and all over the land. Some of the women who were most prominent in that movement have since been distinguished for great promiscuity of affection. Popular themes for such occasions were the tyranny of man, the oppression of the marriage relation, women's rights and the affinities. Prominent speakers were women with short curls and short dress, and very long tongue, everlastingly at war with God because they were created women, while on the platform sat meek men with soft accent and cowed demeanor, apologetic for masculinity, and holding the parasols while the termagant orators went on preaching the doctrine of free love. That campaign of about twenty years set more devils into the marriage relation than will be exorcised in the next fifty. Men and women went home from such meetings so permanently confused as to who were their wives and husbands that they never got out of their perplexity, and the criminal and civil courts tried to disentangle the “Iliad” of woes, and this one got alimony, and that one got a limited divorce, and this mother kept the children on condition that the father could sometimes come and look at them, and these went into poorhouses, and those went into an insane asylum, and those went into dissolute public life, and all went to destruction. The mightiest war ever made against the marriage institution was that free love campaign, sometimes under one name and sometimes under another. ?? Brazen Polygamy. Another influence that has warred upon the marriage relation has been polygamy in Utah. That was a stereotyped caricature of the marriage relation and has poisoned the whole land. You might as well think that you can have an arm in a state of mortification and yet the whole body not be sickened as to have these territories polygamized and yet tho body of the nation not feel the putrefaction. Hear it, good men and women of America, that so long ago as 1862 a law was passed by Congress forbidding polygamy in the territories and in all the places where they had jurisdiction. Twenty-four years passed along and five administrations before the first brick was knocked from that fortress of libertinism. Every new President in his inaugural tickled that monster with the straw of condemnation, and every Congress stultified itself in proposing some plan that would not work. Polygamy stood more intrenched, and more brazen, and more puissant, and more braggart, and more infernal; James Buchanan, a much-abus-ed man of his day, did more for the extirpation of this villainy than most of the subsequent administrations. Mr. Buchanan sent out an army, and although it was halted in its work, still he accomplished more than some of the administrations which did nothing but talk, talk, talk. At Jast, but not until it had poisoned generations, polygamy has received its death blow. ’ „ Polygamy In Utah warred against the marriage relation throughout the land. It was impossible to have such an awful sewer of iniquity sending up its miasma, which was wafted by the winds north, south, east and west, without the whole land being affected by It. Another influence that has warred against the marriage relation in this country has been a pustulous literature, with its millions of sheets every week choked with stories of domestic wrongs and infidelities and massacres and outrages, un-„ til it is a wonder to me that there are any decencies or any common sense left on the subject of marriage. One-half of the news stands of all our cities reeking with the filth. “Now,” say some, “we admit all these evils, and the only way to clear them out or correct them is by easy divorce." Well, before we yield to that cry let? us find out how easy it is now. Wholesale Divorce. I have looked over the laws of all the States, and I find that, while in some Rtataa it la aasjar than in nthoHL .In nwv State it is easy, The State of Illinois, ■ ,4'

through its Legislature, recites a long Het of proper causes for divorce and then ciowe up by giving to the courts the right to make a decree of divorce in any case where they deem It expedient. After that you are not surprised at the announcement that in one county of the State of Illinois, in one year, there were 838 divorces. If you want to know how easy it is, you have only to look over the records of the States. In the city of San Frandaco 333 divorces in one year, and in twenty years in New England 20,000. Is that not easy enough? If the same ratio continue—the ratio of multiplied divorce and multiplied causes of divorce—we are not far from the time when our courts will have to set apart whole days for application, and all you will have to prove against a man will be that he left his newspaper in the middle of the floor, and all you wilt have to prove against a woman will be that her husband’s overcoat is buttonless. Causes of divorce doubled in a few years—doubled In France, doubled in England and doubled in the United States. To show how very easy it is I have to tell you that in Western Reserve, Ohio, the proportion of divorces to marriages celebrated is 1 to 11, in Rhode Island is Ito 13,Jn Vermont Ito 14. Is not that easy efiough? I want you to notice that frequency of divorce always goes along with the dissoluteness of society. Rome for 600 years had not one case of divorce. Those were her days of glory and virtue. Then the reign of vice began, and divorce became epidemic. If you want to know how rapidly the empire went down, ask Gibbon. What we want in this country and in all lands is that divorce be made more and more and more difficult. Then people before they enter that relation will, be persuaded that there will probably be no escape from it except through the door of the sepulcher. Then they will pause on the verge of that relation until they are fully satisfied that it is best, and that itis right, and that it is happiest. Then we shall have no more marriage In fun. Then men and women will not enter the relation with the idea it is only a trial trip, and if they do not like it they can get opt at the first landing. Then this whole question will be taken out of the frivolous Into the tremendous, and there will be no more joking about the blossoms In a bride’s hair than about the cypress on a coffin. Uniform Laws in All States. What we wait is that the Congress of the United States change the national constitution so that a. law can be passed which shall be uniform all over the country, and what shall be right in one State shall be right in all States, and what is wrong in one State will be wrong in all the States. More difficult divorce will put an estoppel to a great extent upon marriage as a financial speculation. There are men who go into the relation just as they go into Wall street to purchase shares. The female to be invited into the partnership, of wedlock is utterly unattractive and m disposition a suppressed Vesuvius. Everybody knows it, but this masculine, candidate for matrimonial orders, through the commercial agency or through the county records, finds out how much estate is to be inherited, and he calculates it. He thinks out how long it will be before the old man -will die, and whether he can stand the refractory temper until he does die, and then he enters the relation, for he says, “If I cannot stand it, then through the divorce law I’ll back out.” That process is going on all the time, and men enter the relation without any moral principle, without any affection, and it is as much a matter of stock speculation as anything that transpired yesterday in Union Pacific, Illinois Central or Delaware and Lackawanna. Now. suppose a man understood, as he ought to understand, that if he goes into that relation there is no possibility of his getting out, or no probability, he would be more slow to pu| his neck in the yoke. He would say to himself, “Rather than a Caribbean whirlwind with a whole fleet of shipping in its arms, give me a zephyr off fields of sunshine and gardens of peace.” Rigorous divorce law will also hinder women from the fatal mistake of marrying men to reform them. If a young man by twenty-five years of age or thirty years of age has the habit of strong drink fixed on him, he is as certainly bound for a drunkard’s grave as that a train starting out from Grand Central depot at 8 o’clock to-morrow morning is bound for Albany. The train may not reach Albany, for it may be thrown off the track. The young man may not reach a drunkard’s grave, for something may throw him off the iron track of evil habit, but the probability is that the train that starts tomorrow morning at 8 o’clock for Albany will get there, and the probability is that the young man who has the habit of strong drink fixed on him before twentyfive or thirty years of age will arrive at a drunkard's grave. ■ She knows he drinks, although he tries to hide it by chewing cloves. Everybody knows he drinks. Parents warn; neighbors and friends warn. She will ma try-him; she will reform him. o The Altar of Sacrifice. If she is unsuccessful in the experiment, why. then the divorce law will emancipate her because a habitual drunkenness is a cause for divorce in Indiana, Kentucky. Florida, Connecticut and nearly all the States. So the poor thing goes to the altar of sacrifice. If you will show me the poverty struck streets in any city. I will show you the homes of the women who married men to reform them. In one case out of 10,000 it may be a successful experiment. I never saw the successful experiment. But have a rigorous divorce law. and that woman will say, “If I am affianced to that man. it is for life.” A rigorous divorce law will also do much to hinder hasty and inconsiderate marriages. Under the impression that one can be easily released people enter the relation without inquiry and without reflection. Romance and impulse rule the day. Perhaps the only ground for the marriage compact is that she likes his looks, and he Admires the graceful way sho passes around the ice crean} at the picnic! It is all they know about each other. It is all the preparation for life. A woman that could not make a loaf of bread to save her life will swear to cherish -Iand obey. A Christian will marry an atheist, and that always makes conjoined wretchedness, for if a man does not believe there is * God he is neither to be, trusted with a dollar nor with your lifelong happiness. Having read much about love iu a cottage, people brought up in ease will go and starve in a hovel. By the wretst of 10,000 homes, by the holocaust of 10,000 sacrificed men and wAWtan hr thiißniluwthQtATMtf t which is the cornerstone of the State, and

in th* name of that Got who hath' tho family institution, and who hat :■ the breaking of the marital oath tl appalling of all perjuries, I impb Congress of the United States t<o some righteous, uniform law tyr States, and from ocean to ocean, . - subject of marriage and divorce. Character the One Eeeentii Let me say to the hundreds ot ■ people in this house this afterno fore you give your heart and hand alliance use all caution. Inquire as to habits, explore the disposltier tinize the taste, question the snu; find out the ambitions. Do nos A 8 heroes and heroines of cheap nove model. Do not put your CTetiine I ness in the keeping of a man wh< reputation for being a little loose als or in the keeping of a woqft. dreases fast. Remember that, whi looks are a kindly gift of God, w or accident may despoil them. Rot that Byron was no more celebra his beauty than for his depravitv member that Absalom's hair was n«. splendid than his habits were desf Hear it, hear it! The only foui for happy marriage that has ev?r 1 ever will be is good character. Ask God whom you shall marry marry at all. A union formed In will be a happy union, though s. pale the cheek and poverty emp bread tray, and death open the graves, and all the path of life be with thorns from the marriage alts its wedding march and orange bl clear on down to the last farewell gate where Isaac and Rebecca, At and Sarah, Adam and Eve parted. The Speck on the Horizon And let me say to those of you v in happy married union avoid first rels; have no unexplained correspo with former admirers; cultivate i picions; in a moment of bad tern not rush out and tell the neighb< not let any of those gad-abouts of > unload in your house their bagg -gab and tittle tattle; do not stand o rights; learn how to apologize; i be so proud, or so stubborn, or s* that you will not make up. Re., that the worst domestic misfortun most scandalous divorce cases t from little Infelicities. The whol up train of ten rail cars telescop* smashed at the foot of an embar 100 feet down came to that catastrc getting two or three inches off the Some of the greatest domestic misfc and wide resounding divorce case started from little misunderstandir were allowed to go on and go o: ' home and respectability and religi* immortal soul went down in the crash I . In the “Farm Ballads” our Ant poet puts into the lips of a repents’ band after a life of married pertui these suggestive words: “And when she dies I wish that she be laid by me, And lying together in silence perh: will agree, And if ever we meet in heaven I wo’ ' think it queer If we love each other better becai quarreled here.” Fellow citizens as well as fellov tians, let us have a divine rage 6 anything that wars on the marriage Blessed institution! Instead of tw< to fight the battle of life, four; inst two eyes to scrutinize the path c four; instead of two shoulders to 1 burden of life, four. Twice the e twice the courage, twice the holy tion, twice the probability of world cess, twice the prospects of heaven, the matrimonial bower God fetch: souls. Outside that bower room : contentions, and all bickerings, a controversies, but inside the bower is room for only one guest—the an love. Let that angel stand at the ' doorway of this Edenic bower with sword to hew down the worst foe c bower —easy divorce. And for ever adise lost may there be a paradise r ed. And after we quit our home her we have a brighter home in heaven, windows of which this moment are iar faces watching for our arrivt wondering why so long we tarry. SO UNEXPECTED AND SO I That Is How Anthony Hope’s F Regards His Son’s Literary 8w A Boston lady who passed last mer in England tells an inter: story of Anthony Hope's father, luncheon given by a high dtgnite the church the lady found herself ed next a small and evidently ver clergyman. So timid did her nei; prove that during the first half meal he kept his face rigidly av* never once opened his lips. After ing several ineffectual attempts t gage the little gentleman in com tion, the friendly foreigner was su ed to have him turn and in an agi voice inquire whether Americans read novels. “Novels!” she excla “Why, yes, indeed; more than mos pie.” “Do they care; for British ors?” he asked, starting nervously a little jerk and gasp after each ' “Alas! I fear we are very unpatrio that respect,” the lady replied. ‘ about Anthony Hope? Do they cai him?” whispered the little mlniste tremor of feeling, “How unforti that I’ve never even heard his r But I’m glad that you’ve told me : him, for on my way back through I’ll order a lot of his books sent f By the way, who is he? Do you 1 this new writer?” The speaker gls up to see her neighbor’s face f beam with emotiSti as he ansv tremulously: "I should madam. Anthony Hope my only son." Then waxing elot and confidential, the Rev. Mr. Hav continued: "You can’t think wh queer sensation it gives to have a son turn out to be a live genius, see. Ud had a whole houseful of daughters that were just like < people’s children, and then audc here come Anthony, and befort mother and I knew what he was a the boy was famous and had the v world talking about him. But It’a s did! Splendid! So unexpected at -very nice." - Anatomists say that the tongt woman is smaller than that of hut married mart VgSarA Stwrarvr 3 with grave suspicion ■ . >. - f