Decatur Democrat, Volume 39, Number 19, Decatur, Adams County, 26 July 1895 — Page 6

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CHAPTER Xl.—(Continued.) “It is curibus,” said Mrs. L’Estrange, ks if to herself. “I never thought Clifford Marsden would tie himself to any woman, unless for a large money bribe. He knows exactly how you are situated, and I think the better of him! He must love you very much!” “He says he does, I believe he does, mid Nora, sitting down on her footstool kgain and clasping her hands round her knee in a thoughtful pose. “In fact, lam half frightened at the idea of his caring so much about me, though this is weak and lilly. I never thought the squire could be io intensely in earnest about anything. I feel somehow to blame, for, Helen, I am not one bit in love with him. I told him io, and he said he knew it. “My dear child, you do not know whether you are or not! Clifford Marsden is i man who might teach any woman to love him; and why should he not win you. He jhows that he is sincerely, disinterested y attached to you. I must say lam entirely »n his side.” 4 “Are you?” said Nera, dreamily. 1 luppose so.” She sighed. “It is a marriage that would have given rour father the keenest pleasure.” Nora Was silent. “Did you, then, reject him? asked Mrs. L’Estrange. “He would not accept rejection, said Nora, with a grave smile. “He said I must hear him; that I must marry him; he leemed rather angry and excited, but we parted good friends. I promised to think of all he had said, and to speak to you, who would be his friend he was sure. I am astonished he should care for me so touch! He has seen such quantities of charming, beautiful people —but he does. Dh! Helen. He is wonderfully fond of me! I could hear it in his voice. I am very ungrateful, I wish he was not. lam afraid even if I were to marry him he would be disappointed to find I could not thim enough. It is—l mean it must so wretched, not to receive as much as one gives." “My dear, you cannot fail to love him keartily! You are perfectly heart whole, and yours is a kindly nature, not likely to harden itself against the tenderness of a true lover.” “No; perhaps not. I wish I did love him. How happy and light-hearted I ahould be! Now I am uncertain and misarable. lam so impatient, Helen! I can not rest if lam unhappy. I must get light knd or I should beat myself to pieces against my prison bars! You are . ryyiruWi mnebulyr.nswa. 1 io'u vail conceive how inexorably submission is forced upon sometimes.” •There was a short pause. “I should be glad, I confess,” resumed Mrs. L’Estrange, “to see you well and happily married. You would, lam sure, be always a kind sister to my poor little Bea; as to myself, it is not impossible that I may ” she stopped. “Certainly hot; why should you not?” put in Nora, eagerly. “You are young and fair enough to marry some good, delightful person!” “My dear Nora!” interrupting in her turn. “What can have suggested so absurd an idea? I was about to touch on a very different topic, but I will not now. Tell me, did Mr. Marsden say he would come again?” “Yes—no. I am not sure what he said. But I think he will most probably.” “Well; we can say no more at present. I will go and change my dress. I trust you will be wise, and not reject such an offer for a whim.” “I only want to do what is right,” cried Nora, standing up, and letting her clasped hands fall to the length of her arms. “I do wish I loved Clifford, as he deserves me to love him; but —it is very odd —I don't think I like him as well as I did resterday. I used to be quite glad to see kirn—and now I rather dread his coming.” “That is natural enough, Nora. There will be a little awkwardness in meeting him at first. I do not quite understand your indifference to so very attractive a man as Clifford Marsden! Tell me—you know I would not intrude on your confidence; I only ask because you are dear to me as my own sister—have you any preference for some one else to steel your heart?'' “Why! who has ever made love to me?” cried Nora, indignantly, coloring crimson as she spoke; “and am I the sort of girl to bestow’ my heart ot fancy when neither are sought?” “Pardon me,” said Mrs. L’Estrange, smiling, “the heart, even in the strongest minded young ladies, is strangely illogical and unaccountable.” “Well; I really am not very silly. Now I have kept you too long, perhaps your dress is damp, and you know you must not be imprudent.” “I know it, but I have been under cover nil day.” She took up her cloak and was leaving the room, when Nora exclaimed: “How selfish I am! I quite forgot to tell you I had a few lines from Lady Dorrington. She says Mrs. Ruthven is seriously ill, with fever, nervous fever, and they are quite uneasy about her.” “Indeed! I am sorry, very sorry. I never Jjked Mrs. Ruthven as well as you do, but I think she looked dreadfully worried of late.” “Did you, do you think she was very much taken with the squire?” “Oh, I don’t imagine she cares seriously for any one, she likes the most distinguished man present,” returned Mrs. L’Estrange. “I should be so sorry to interfere with her. It must be dreadful to be cut out if you are really fond of any one.” “Do not distress yourself on that score; I fancy Mr. Marsden’s flirtation with Mrs. Buthven was of the very lightest order. Did you answer Lady Dorrington’s letter?” “Yes, at once, and begged her to let us Ihmw how the patient was- going-en-t ’Mrs* L’Estrange was fascinated by the Idea of Nora’s marriage with Marsden. Vm had always liked bim. and living out

of the world, had never heard the various reports respecting his wild extravagance, his generally reckless life. Even if she had, she would, like a simple, good woman, have fully believed in the power of a pure attachment to elevate and reform the most determined rake. Besides, though truly and warmly attached to her stepdaughter, she was keenly alive to the fact that her own precious child was utterly dependent on her half-sister. She never doubted that Nora, if left to herself, would be both just and generous, but if Nora married before attaining her majority, Beatrice would be really dependent on some mere stranger, and men are so strange and hard about money matters. Then a husband's power and influence are so great; the poor lonely widow, though she blushed for herself, earnestly hoped Nora would not marry until she was 21. If Nora married Marsden, she felt sure he would be kind and generous. He was peculiarly sympathetic. It was this that gave him more than half hie attraction. He always conveyed the idea that he was really glad to help any one. His detestation of everything unpleasant or painful gave him an air of kindness that imposed even on himself. Yes, if Nora would consent, Bea’s fu- , ture was secure, and why should she not? A better, or indeed a happier, marriage j could not be found. Why Nora was not i already in love with her suitor, Mrs. L’Estrange could not understand, and set it down to one of the inscrutable mysteries of a young undeveloped nature. Nora, too, was thoughtful, and the evening passed almost in silence; occasionally each spoke a few words, and then fell into a fit of musing. The spell, however, ' was broken by the entrance of the servant with a note for Mrs. L’Estrange. ' “The messenger waits, ’m.” “I will ring in a minute or two,” said Mrs. L’Estrange, opening the envelope. “It Is from Mr. Marsden, Nora,” she , exclaimed. “He wants to see me alone tn-mnrrnw morning ” = “Indeed!” “I suppose”—smiling—"he wants to secure your vote and Interest” “They are his already.” A pause. “What shall I say, Nora?” “Whatever you choose.” “Then I shall see him.” She rose, went to the writing table, and ' penned a few lines, and sent them to Marsden’s messenger. “I imagine that Mr. Marsden will not bo easily turnedffrom his purpose. And I ' hope, Nora, you will not too thoughtlessly refuse so sincere and disinterested a lover." “Oh! I know all that can be urged in his favor,” said Nora, rather impatiently; “and he is very nice—only—l think I should like to be Nora L’Estrange for some time longer. I have sgyi ao littJeJ i that gwful housekeeper. And [ the squire himself likes everything to be so perfect—so elegant—he might regret his own haste in wanting to marry such a I half-fledged creature as I am.” I “Nora, dear Nora!, this humility is a new development!” “I know what I am fit for, and I am not . humble, but I do not want to attempt what is likely to be too much for me. There, don’t let us talk about Clifford any more —at least till you have seen him tomorrow.” “Promise me not to refuse him without due reflection.” “No. I am too undecided to do that. But it rather awful to think that, having once said ‘yes,’ one cannot unsay it.” Mrs. L’Estrange need scarcely have recommended Nora to reflect on Marsden’s offer. She was haunted by the recollection of his words, his voice, his eyes. It is true that he kept himself well in hand, and kept back many a passionate expression that rushed to his lips. Nevertheless, he had impressed Nora very deeply with the conviction that she was very essential to him. It rather weighed her down with a vague sense of alarm. What was she to do with this tremendous gift of love?—so strong that his voice trembled in spite of his efforts to be steady, when he described it, and his heart throbbed fast and hard when he pressed her hand for a-moment against it. Ought she condemn ohe who was so tenderly attached to her to suffer the pangs of disappointment and rejection, because she had a morbid fancy for another who did not care for her? And with the thought came a suggestion that sent thrills of pain quivering through her veins. Had the same words and tones and looks been Winton’s how differently she would have responded! Perhaps, by cultivating gratitude to Marsden, and giving herself up to his efforts to please and win her, she would succeed in loving him; and then she would make him happy and be happy herself. What a solution of all difficulties that .would be! Perhaps it would be the right thing to do. How hard it was to know what was right Finally, the tears welled up, as she thought with regretful compassion of the strong emotion Marsden had displayed—surely such affection constituted a claim upon any kindly heart. Yet she ardently wished he had not taken such a fancy to her. So, after struggling with contradictory thoughts for half the night, she fell asleep toward morning, with a halfuttered prayer to be directed aright upon her lips. i Mrs. L’Estrange received Marsden cor- , dially and cheerfully. She did not doubt for a moment that Nora, having recovered her first partied surprise at his unexpected proposal, would marry him willingly, as it was natural she should; and she was anxious he should see how very heartily she was on his side. “I feel sure I have a friend in you,” were almost his first words, after he had shaken hands with her warmly, “we were always allies since your first appearance at Brookdale.” “Yes, Mr. Marsden, you were always welcome to my husband and to me.” “Nora has told you of the start I gave her,” who was absorbed in his own projects. “I feel I have been too abrupt. In short, having been pretty far gone about her nearly ever since we met last spring, I fancied she. must see it, and to be candid, her blindness suggests that she may be preoccupied by some luckier fellow than myself. Am I right?” J “XftßPMht to Ask her. Mr. Marsden.”

“And seem a conceited jackanapes bi implying that only a previous attachment] would have prevented her falling In love with me?" Mrs. L’Estrange smiled. “I do not think Nora Is disposed to fall in love very readily. Then there was no one for her to fall in love with.” “Some women might fancy Winton.” “I do not think Nora did. Indeed, they never seemed to take much to each other, especially of late.” “Well, Mrs. L’Estrange, you will back me up? I may depend on you?" “You may. How did you and Nora part?” “Oh, she was anxious to get rid of me; 1 could see that, but I told her I would not take her first ‘No,’ nor her second either! Mrs. L’Estrange, I am determined that Nora shall be my wife." “Not against her will?" “No; that would be too ungallant,” returning to his usual light tone; “but with her will.” “Take my advice; wait a few days before repeating your offer. Let me tell her you will give her time to think, and, meanwhile, that she must let you come as a friend and kinsman.” "Very well. I shall be guided by you, but I can’t stand this uncertainty long. Why does she not like me? for she doesn’t.” “It is impossible to say; she is not a commonplace glrk” “Thank you for the implied compliment” “You have caught me up too soon. Will you write what I have suggested, or shall I speak to Nora?” “I will write,” he said, and speedily traced a few lines. “There,” he continued, handing the note to Mrs. L’Estrange, “I am very grateful for your help, and believe me, If I become your step-son-in-law, I will care for your Interests and those of my little friend, Bea, as if they were my own.” “You are very good,” said Mrs. L’Estrange, softly. “Now,” continued Marsden, “what shall we do? It is an awful time in 1 almost wish I had not come up. There is shooting, or hunting, or something to be done in the country. Have you been to Windsor? It is a tolerably fine day. Let us go down and lunch there, and walk about after. Just settle it with Nora.” “Very well,” said Mrs. L’Estrange, and left the room. She was some little time absent, during which Marsden walked to and fro, picked up and put down books and papers which lay about, and occasionally looked at the clock. He was impatient, but not uneasy; he did not doubt his ultimate success, and was pot altogether displeased with Nora’s hesitation. It was the sense of difficulty which was her crowning charm. He had seen many lovelier and more fascinating women; but none had ever charmed and vanquished him as this unworldly, natural young cousin. What fair round arms she had! What a sweet mouth, half sad, half haughty! Would she ever press it fondly to hlsl What would he not dare, what villainy would he not commit, to secure her sot himself away from every one? And would . *femariab)e Well, not for a long time. There woul< be a spell of heaven first. Here he threw himself into an armchair and took up a book of photographs; it opened at the portrait of Mrs. Ruthvan. Was that an evil omen? He hated her; yet, when they had met early that year in Paris, before he had seen Nora, he was rather taken with her. Her veiled admiration for himself flattered and amused him. He even thought of appropriating her wealth in exchange for his name. Now? Pah, how he wished she would die and take herself out of his world, where she was not wanted! The telegram that morning was about as bad as it could be; perhaps luck would still be on his side, for he had a vague, uncomfortable impression that Mrs. Ruthven would work him evil. Here Mrs. L’Estrange returned and handed a little twisted note, which he eagerly opened and read: “You are very kind and considerate; I accept your suggestion.” This was simply signed “Nora.” “I think you ought to be content,” said Mrs. L’Estrange, smiling. “I am—and our expedition to-day?” “We will be ready to accompany you in an hour. Nora made no objection.” The meeting, under such trying circumstances, was less awkward than Nora expected. She could not help admiring Marsden’s tact and cool self-possession. If anything, he was more attentive to Mrs. L’Estrange than so herself. The weather was fine, the conversation light and animated. Marsden spoke of Mrs. Ruthven with much good feeling, and the day was far more agreeable than Nora anticipated, nor did Marsden leave them without making some plans for the morrow which would bring them together. (To be continued.) As to Hypnotism. No less a personage than Dr. Parkhurst has taken the trouble to point out anew that nobody ever beard of anybody's being hypnotized to make him do something good. Hypnotism, the doctor thinks from the evidence, Is always exerted to promote evil and for that reason he Is Inclined to condemn It. The fact commented on by the doctor has often been spoken of, but It really constitutes no fault of hypnotism. It Is simply the fault of human nature. Man gravitates toward the bad. When hypnotism Is exerted in the same direction with this natural gravitation It is effective. When it is exerted In the opposite direction it Is simply trying to pull the load uphill and It falls. Thera are no doubt plenty of persons, especially ladies, who go about weaving subtle hypnotic charms around mon for the noble purpose of leading them aright, just as the bad people whom we hear of through the police reports go about hypnotizing for 111. But the good hypnotists work at a tremendous disadvantage. It is upgrade tor them and downgrade for the bad hypnotists. As between a Svengallc friend trying to hypnotize a man to stay out and play poker and a wife trying to hypnotize him to come home the odds are with the friend. Perhaps hypnotism will develop to a point where it can overcome this na-tural-dlsadvantage. Or perhaps mankind will get over the brow of the hill so that the way to good will be a down grade—Chicago News.

TALMAGE’S SERMON. HE PREACHES ON A RELIGION FOR ORDINARY PEOPLE. • * • He Asks Attention to the Sank end File Rather than to the Few—The Disadvantages of Being Conspicuous —The Blessing of Content. Gospel of Content. Rev. Dr. Talmage, who is still absent on his annual midsummer tour, preaching and lecturing, prepared for last Sunday a sermon on "Plain People,” a topic which will appeal to a very large majority of renders anywhere. The text selected was Romans xvi., 14, 15, “Salute Asyncritus, rhlegon, Hernias, Patrobas, Hermes, Philologus and Julia.” Matthew Henry, Albert Barnes, Adam Clark, Thomas Scott and all the commentators pass by these verses without any especial remark. The other twenty people mentioned In the chapter were distinguished for something and were therefore discussed by the illustrious expositors, but nothing is said about Asyncritus, Phlegon, Hennas, Patrobas, Hermes, Philologus and Julia. Where were they born? No one knows. Where did they die? There is no record of their decease. For what were they distinguished ? Absolutely for nothing, or the trait oL character would have been brought ou/ by the apostle. If they had been v?Ty intrepid or opulent or hirsute or musical of cadence or crass of style or in anywise anomalous, that feature would have been caught by the apostolic camera. But they were good people, because Paul sent to them his high Christian regards. They were ordinary people, moving in ordinary sphere, attending to ordinary duty and meeting ordinary responsibilities.. • «r What the world wants is a religion for ordinary people. If there be in the United States 65,000,000 people, there are certainly not more than 1,000,000 extraordinary, and then there are 64,000,000 ordinary, and we do well to turn our backs for a little while upon the distinguished and conspicuous people of the Bible and consider in our text the seven ordinary. We spend too much of our time in twisting garlands for remarkables and building thrones for magnates and sculpturing warriors and npotheoblvlno < 1 oofo HTlvn rnnlr and filn ofxthe Lord’s soldiery need especial help. The vast majority of people to whom this sermon comes will never lead an army, will never write a State Constitution, will never electrify a Senate, will never make an important invention, will never introduce a new philosophy, will never decide the fate of n nation. Yon do not expect to; you do not want to. You will not be a Moses to lead a nation out of bondage. You will not be a Joshua to prolong the daylight until you can shut five kings in a cavern. You will not be a St. John to unroll an apocalypse. You will not be a Paul to preside over an apostolic college. Yob will not be a Mary to mother a Christ. You will more probably be Asyncritus or Phlegon or Hermas or Patrpbas — Many of you are women at the head of households. This morning you launched ’ the family for the Sabbath observance, i Your brain decided the apparel, and your • judgment was final on all questions of I personal attire. Every morning you plan I for the day. The culinary department • of your household is In your dominion, i You decide all questions of diet. All the ! sanitary regulations of your house are i under your supervision. To regulate the i food, and the apparel, and the habits and decide the thousand questions of home life is a tax upon your brain and nerve and general health absolutely appalling if there be no divine alleviation. It does not help you much to be told that Elizabeth Fry did wonderful things mid the crimiuals of Newgate. It does not help you much to be told that Mrs. Judson wns very brave among the Bornesian cannibals. It does not help you much to be told that Florence Nightingale was very kind to the wounded in the Crimea. It would be better for me to tell you that the divine friend of Mary and Martha is your friend, and that he sees all the annoyances and disappointments and abrasions and exasperations of an ordinary housekeeper from morn till night, and from the first day of the year to the last day of the year and at your call he is ready with help and re-en-forcement. An unthinking man may consider it a matter of little importance—the cares of the household and the economies of domestic life—but J-tell you the earth is strewn with the martyrs of kitchen and nursery. The health shattered womanhood of America cries out for a God who can help ordinary women in the ordinary duties of housekeeping. The wearing, grinding, unappreciated work goes on, but the same Christ who stood on the bank of Galilee in the early morning and kindled the fire and had the fish already cleaned and broiling when the sportsmen stepped ashore, chilled and hungry, will help every woman to prepare breakfast, whether by her own hand or the hand of her hired help. The God who made indestructible eulogy of Hannah, who made a coat for Samuel, her son, and carried it to the temple every year, will help every woman in preparing the family wardrobe. The God who opens the Bible with the story of Abraham’s entertainment of the three angels on the plains of Mamre will help every woman to provide hospitality, however rare and embarrassing. Premature Old Age. Then there are the ordinary business men. They need divine and Christian help. When we begin to talk about business life, we shoot right off and talk about men who did business on a large scale, and who sold millions of dollars of goods a year, but the vast majority of business men do not sell a million dollars of goods, nor half a million, nor a quarter of a million, nor the eighth part of a million. Put all the business men of our cities, towns and villages and neighborhoods side by side, and you will find that they sell less than $50,000 worth of goods. All these men in ordinary business life want divine help. You see how the wrinkles are printing on the countenance the story of worriment and care. You cannot tell how old a business man is by looking at him. Gray hairs at 30. A man at 45 with the stoop of a nonogenarian. No time to attend to improved dentistry, the grinders cease because they are few. Actually dying of old age at 40 or 50 when they ought to be at the meridian. Many of these business men have bodies like a'neglected cluck. The human clock hat simply run dqwn< Aafl at the

time when the steady hand ought to be pointing to the industrious hours on. a clear and sunlit dial the whole machinery of body, mind and earthly capacity stops forever. Tho cemeteries hava thousands of business men who died of old ago at 80, 85, 40, 45. The Beat- Kind of Grace. Now, what is wanted is grace—divine grace for ordinary business men, men who are harnessed from morn till night and all the days of their life—harnessed In business. Not grace to lose SIOO,OOO, but grace to lobe $lO. Not grace to supervise 250 employes in a factory, but grace to supervise the bookkeeper and two salesmen and the small boy that sweeps out the store. Grace to invest not the SBO,000 of net proffr, but the $2,500 of clear gnin. Grace not to enduro the loss of a whole shipload of spices from the Indies, but grace to endure the loi« of a paper of collars from the leakage of a displaced shingle on a poor roof. Grace not to endure the tardiness of the American Congress In passing a necessary law, but grace to endure the tardiness of an errand boy stopping to play marbles when ho ought to deliver the goods; such a grace as thousands of business men have to-day, keeping them tranquil whether goods sell or do not sell, whether customers pay or do not pay, whether tho tariff is up or tariff is down, whether the crops are luxuriant or a dead failure, calm in nil circumstances and amid all vicissitudes—that is the kind of grace we want. Millions of men want it, and they may have it for the asking. Tillers of the Soil. Then there are all the ordinary farmers. We talk about agricultural life, and we immediately shoot off to talk about Cincinnatus, the patrician, who went from the plow to a high position, and after he got through the dictatorship in twenty-one dnys went back again to the plow. What encouragement is that to ordinary farmers? The vast majority of them, none of them, will be patricians. Perhaps none of them will be Senators. If any of them have dictatorships, it will be over forty or fifty or one hundred acres of the old homestead. What those men want is grace to keep their patience while plowing with balky oxen and to keep cheerful amid the drought that destroys the corn crop and that enables them to restore the garden, the day after the neighbor’s cattle have broken in and trampled out the strawberry bed and gone through the lima bean patch and eaten up the sweet corn in such large quautites that they must be kept from the water lest they swell up uud die; grace in catch Ing weather that enables them without Imprecation to spread out the hay the third time, although again and again and again it has been almost ready for the mow; a grace to doctor the cow with a hollow horn, and the sheep with the footrot, and the horse with the’distemper, and to compel the unwilling acres to yield a livelihood for the family, and schooling for the children, and little extras to help the older boy in business, and something for the daughter's wedding outfit, and a little surplus for the time when the ankles will get stiff with age and the breath will be a little short, and the swinging of the cradle through the hot harvest field will bring qn the old man’s vertigo. , »Better cloaa_Am Ahpyt - at , What they want Is to know that theY have the friendship of that Christ who often drew his similes from the farmer’s life, as when he said, “A sower went forth to sow,” as when he built his best parable out of the scene of a farmer’s boy coming back from his wanderings, and the old farmhouse shook that night with rural jubilee, and who compared himself to a lamb in the pasture field, and who said the eternal God is a farmer, declaring, “My Father is the husbandman.” Those stonemasons do not want to hear about Christopher Wren, the architect, who built St. Paul's Cathedral. It would be better to tell them how to carry the hod of brick up the ladder without slipping, and how on a cold morning with the trowel to smooth off the mortar and keep cheerful, and how to be thankful to God for the plain food taken from the pail by the roadside. Carpenters standing amid the adz, and the bit, and the plane, and the broadax need to be told that Christ was a carpenter, with his own hand wielding saw and hammer. Oh, this is a tired world, and it is an overworked world, and it is au underfed world, and it is a wrung out world, and men and women need to know that there is rest and recuperation in God and in that religion which was not so much Intended for extraordinary people as for ordinary people, because there are more of them. Heaters of the Sick. The healing profession has had its Abercrombies and its Abernethys and its Valentine Motts and its Willard Parkers, but the ordinary physicians do the most of the world’s medicining, and they need to understand that while taking diagnosis or prognosis or writing prescription or compounding medicament or holding the delicate pulse of a dying child they may have the presence and the dictation of the almighty doctor who took the case of the madman, and after he had torn off his garments in foaming dementia clothed him again, body and mind, and who lifted up the tfoman who for eighteen years had been bent almost double with the rheumatism into graceful stature, and who turned the scabs of leprosy into rubicund complexion, and who rubbed the numbness out of paralysis, and who swung wide open the closed windows of hereditary or accidental blindness until the morning light came streaming through the fleshly casements, and who knows all the diseases and all the remedies and all the herbs and all the catholicons, and is monarch of pharmacy and therapeutics', and who has sent out 10,000 doctors of whom the world makes no record, but to prove that they are angels of mercy I invoke the thousands of men whose ailments have been assuaged and the thousands of wbmen to in crises of pain" they have been next to God in benefaction. Come, now, let us have a religion for ordinary people in professions, in occupations. in agriculture in the household, in merchandise, in everything. I salute across the centuries Asyncritus, Phlegon, Hermas, Patrobas, Hermes, Philologus and Julia. First of all, if you feel that you are ordinary, thank God that you are not extraordinary. I am tired and sick and bored almost to death with extraordinary people. They take all their time to tell us how very extraordinary they really are. You know as well ds I do, my brother and sister, that the most of the useful work of the world is done by unpretentious people who toil right on, by people who do not get much approval, and no 0M seems to say f “That is weH done.”

Phenomena arc of but little use. Things that are exceptional cannot bo depended on. Better trust the smallest plapet that swings on its orbit than ton comqts shooting thia way and that, imperiling the longevity of worlds attending to their own business. For steady illumination better is a lamp than a rocket. Then, if you feel that you are ordinary, remember that your position invites the lens attack.] Conspicuous people-r-how they have to take it! How they are mlsrcpresuted and abused and shot at! The higher the horns of a roebuck the easier to track him down. What a delicious thing it must he to la. a candidate for President of the United States! It must be so soothing to tho nerves! It must pour Into the soul of a candidate such a sense of serenity when he reads the blessed newspapers! The Abused. I came Into the possession of tbp abusive cartoons In the time of Napoleon 1., printed while he was yet alive. The retreat of the army from Moscaw, that army buried iu the snows of Russia, ono of tho most awful tragedies of the centuries, represented under the figure of a monster called General Frost shaving the French Emperor with a razor of icicle. As Satyr and Beelzebub ho Is represented, page after page; page after page, England cursing him, Spain cursing him, Germany cursing him, Russia cursing him, Europe cursing him, North and South America cursing him, the most remarkable man of his day and the most abused. All those men in history who now have a halo around their name on earth wore a crown of thorns. Take the few extraordinary railroad men of our time and see what abuse comes upon them while thousands of stockholders escape. All the world took after Thomas Scott, president of the Pennsylvania Railroad, abused him until he got under the ground. Thousands of stockholders in that company. All the blame on one man. The Central Pacific Railroad. Two or three men get all the blame If anything goes wrong. There are 10,000 in that company. I mention these things to prove it is extraordinary people who get abused while the ordinary escape. The weather of life is not so severe on the plain as it is on the high peaks. The world never forgives a man who knows or gains or does more than it can know or gain of do. If, therefore, you feel that you are ordinary, thank God for the defenses and the tranquility of your position. A Contented Spirit. Then remember, if yon have only what is called an ordinary home, that the great deliverers of the world have all come from such a home. And there may be seated reading at your evening stand a child who shall be potent for the ages. Just unroll the scroll of men mighty in church and state, and you wiU4md they nearly all came fro log (Anin or poor homes. Genius almost always runs out In the third or fourth generation. You cannot find in all history an instance where the fourth generation of extraordinary people amount to anything. Columbus from a weaver’s hut, Demosthenes from a cutler’s cellar, Bloomfield and Missionary Carey from a shoemaker s .bench, Arkwright from a barber pTLet us atf be content with such things as we have. God is just as good in what , he keeps away from us as in what he i gives us. Even a knot may be useful if it is at the end of a thread. Oh, that we might be baptized with a contented spirit! i The spider draws poison out of a flower; the bee gets honey out of a thistle, but ■ happiness is a heavenly elixir, and thq contented spirit extracts it not from the rhododendron of the hills, but from the lily of the valley. • A Horse’s Tail. In well-formed horses the tail should bo strong at the root, rising high from the croup, the direction of which It follows. When this is horizontal the tall Is gracefully carried, especially when tho horse Is moving. With powerful, good-shaped horses It Is often carried upward, or even curved over the back, especially when the horse Is lively The health and strength of the anima are, according to popular notions, Indi cated by the resistance the tall often to manual Interference and by the waj In which it is carried. To some extern also It affords an Indication of th( horse’s disposition. A fidgety horse usually has the tail like the ears, always In motion; whei about to kick, the tall is drawn down ward between the legs; when the ans mal Is fatigued or exhausted then It h drooping and frequently tremulous and with some horses, when galloping, It Is swung about In a circular mannei or lashed from side to side. There can scarcely be any doubt also that, like the tail of birds, It assists In the horse’i movements, as wtien the animal Is galloping in a small circle, or rapidly turn Ing round a corner, It is curved to the Inner sldfe. With well-bred horses the hair of the tall Is comparatively fine and straight, and often grows to such a length that it reaches the ground; coarse-bred horses may also have the hair long, but then 11 Is usually vefy thick and strong, and more or less frizzly, though soft curlj hair may occasionally be noticed in the tall of thoroughbred horses. In some horses there Is a tendency to slfMdln« of the tall hair (this, like that of the mane, tall, forelock, fetlock, and some other parts, is permanent, and not shed at certain seasons, as in other regions of the body); the horse is then said to be “rat-tailed,” and there is a popular saying to the effect that such a horse is never a bad one. In other instances the tall hair falls off except at the end of the dock, where It forms a tuft, and the horse is then “cow-tailed” or tailed."—The Nineteenth Century. Bismarck’s Gold Chessboard. Prince Bismarck was recently the re4| clplent of a handsome present in thql| shape of a chessboardinlaid with al-H ternate squares of yellow and milk-1 white amber laid on an under surface! of gold. The figures, which are mar- 1 velously carved, are also of amber, and I each minute detail Is faultlessly carried I out. . 1 j|| |iuy -.- ; . z., I Voltaire was afraid to sleep la the I dark, and Invariably woke if bls candle I - went out j