Indianapolis Journal, Indianapolis, Marion County, 8 April 1888 — Page 2

THE .2NDIAXAPOIIS. JOURNAL, SUNDAY, APRIL 8, 1888-TWELYE PAGES.

Friuttd by Special Arrangement Copyrighted lSfg.

ft Backsliding of Deacon Budgo BI EDITH SKSSIOS TCpPEB. Durkeyville wakened one morning to a genuine sensation. On fences, blacksmith shop and barn fronts were big flaming posters, announcing the advent of Mnrphy and Montmorenci'a Mammoth Moral Menagerie and Hippodrome. A roach wooden structure temporarily erected on Ei Jenk's empty lot bore gaudy pictures of airily attired ground and lofty tumblers ia ; break-neck attitude, and bewitching creatures in gauzy raiment and pink fleshings, bounding through paper-co7ered hoops or pirouetting oa 'bare backs of prancing steeds. There bad not been a circus in Durkeyville within the memory of the oldest inhabitant. As a matter of course, the sleepy little fcsmlet was agog with excitement. Small boys were frantic, and their elders, though they made laudable attempts to conceal their interest, were yetin quite 'a feverish state. Not alone wero curiosity and excitement rampant, but holy indignation prevailed in certain quarters. Durkeyviile la in a great green valley at the foot of what was known the country round as 'Tater Hill." Half way up the hill stood the eauare white meetin'-house belonging to the sect cf the United Brethren. Consternation seized these good people whoa It became known that a circus was imminent. and they loudly denounced the approach of this 'vanguard of satan. If Si Jenks, who had leased his vacant lot for the purpose of advertising the "show," and for I the erection of the tents on the momentous day, lhad been a member of this sect, he would surely have been a subject for discipline. Fortunately, Si had been a confirmed scoffer for many years, and, therefore, escaped. As 'there was no object upon which to empty their phials of wrath, the brethren were forced to bo Vcontent with passing, at a special meeting, the following severe resolutions: Whereas, We hear with sorrow and a sense of outraged decency that a circus is about to descend upon 'car peaceful village; and, Whereas, We realize that the Old Adversary is cunning in spreading nets nay, that the very elect are J of t deceived; and, - . j Whereas. It behooves professors to titand against the onslaughts of Satan; therefore, I Resolved, That, as for us and our house, we will serve the Lord, and we will exhort our friends and neighbors not to yield to the insidious wiles of the Tempter. These resolutions having been framed by the schoolmaster, who considered them a model of eleeant diction, were unanimously adopted and read aloud from the pulpit on the following Sunday by the pastor, who at the same time made a tew and appropriate remarks "I tell ye what," said Deacon Ebenezer Budge to his co-laborer, Deacon Alanson Tokey, as they shook hands on the meeting-bouse steps after service, "I tell ye what, th preacher clinched them air resolutions good. I haint 'heerd no sech powerful argyment fur many a "Thet's so." responded the other. "We must he up an' doin', brother. Th' times is waxin' had when th' host of th' enemy is eamped over , right agin us. I tremble fur th' youth. We 'that have stood in the thick of the warfare fur meny years kin resit, but th' yo nth th' children"! fear they will stray. Especially boys it does beat all. Brother Badge, bow all-fired full of tarnal roots boys be." "It does." assented Deacon Budge. "Itemember when I was a bov, a caravau come along an' (I was crazy as a bedbug to go, an I did, too," and the good man indulged in a retrospective chuckle, but catching the eye of his brother, fixed sternly upon him, he sobered instantly and hastily added: "Of coarse, that was before (I feit the strivings of th' Sperrit, but somehow I remember bow I wanted to go when I bear the boys teasin' now." "Wall," said Deacon Tokey, emphatically, "I feel it in my heart to be thankful that I haint never bad no secb bankerins. Satan has tempted 3ne, I confess, but he haint never tried caravans,9 and the two separated, j The day on which Messrs. Murphy & MontI' xnorenci's Moral Menagerie swept down like a cyclone upon devoted Durkeyville was on Ions to be remembered. Before dawn the knights of the sawdust rode in and took possession of the town. A lawless, rioting crew it was. It swarmed tinto the tiny tavern and drank all the hard cider without the ceremony of paying for it; it seized the small groceries and sat aloft on flour "barrels and helped itself to crackers, cheese and the luxury known as dried herring. It swaggered through the streets, ogling the pretty, frightened country girls, and there is a tradition extant that one of the World Renowned Trapezius actually chucked Miss Theodosia Babbitt, rtbe village dressmaker, and a most exemplary spinster, under the chin and called her "Baby." Even the odor of sanctity that ereloped Deacon Tokey was no protection aeainst this royatering crowd.' The Man With the Iron Jaw jocularly lapped him on the shoulder and called him "Old Hoss," ns he ventured to the Dostoffl.ee to get the weekly edition of The Brethren's Banner. It was weeks before his nervous system recovered from the shock. Bnt the buffoonery of the day waa surpassed by the marauding and fighting of the night. The hen roosts and pig aties were besieged, and Jong and bloody were the pitcned battles in the larkness. And in one of these historic combats, no less a personage than that pillar of the church, that exemplar of humility. Deacon Ebenezer Budge took a hand. The downfall of this good man became an era In the annals of Durkeyville. Events were dated to or from "the year that the Deakon backslid" by the Brethren; by the sinners "the year the Deacon licked the circus .fellers." It was near sundown on the memorable day that Deacon Budge was returning from salting the cattle in the south meadow. It had been a beautiful day, and the sun was making a triumphal exit, attended by cloud satellites of crimson, purple and cold. The lone shadows j were playing over "Tater Hill." A flock of crows '.sailed by overhead, masing a great clatter. From the field he bad left came the tinkling of a cow-bell. It was a thoroughly rural scene, and the Deacon was a fit adjunct to it. He was ' a man of about fifty, but of strong and powerful ' frame. He had the kindest. - eeriest face in the world, gentle, blue eyes, s locks of hair3, but slightly tinged with caj-, nd frosty whiskers fringed his ruddy face. He was a genial, bappy, hopeful mau, and as he strode through the rank grass he sang to himself his favorite hymn: There is a fountain filled with blood, Drawn frora Emmanuel's veins; And sinners plugged beneath that flood. Lose all their guilty stains. nis voice was a far-reaching one, and as it rang over the meadows it called up the echoes from the dark, cool roads over on the hillside. It reached the ears of Miss Deacon Budge, who was frying salt porK and making milk gravy for fcr husband's supper. It penetrated the dullest senses of a man lying prone on his face, down by the brook ia the southeast corner of the lot a man who had fallen and lain there in a stupor for hours. At the sound of the Deacon's voice he stagcered to his feet and stared about him with blood-shot eyes. Lose all their guilty sta-a-ains. Lose all their guilty stains; And sinners plunged beneath that flood. Lose all their guilty stains, came the triumphant voice. He was a young xnan not much more than a boy. He was thin, and lithe and wiry. His face was seamed and scarred, and bad an old, bard look. Just now t was flushed, and bis eyes were bright and glassy. He was dressed in a nondescript fashionold brown trousers tucked into high od boots a dirty corduroy jacket a red handkerchief tied jauntily about his neck and a broad brimmed bat set rakishly on his close cropped Lair. He was very seedy, and picturesque and disreputable looking, and be was snaking and trembling like a leaf as the deacon drew Rear ' him. . "Good evsnin'. my son." said the deacon, with bis sanny smile, "Evenin, ea'd the boy. 'Good fio'i. is it evenin'? Wot time is it? Sundawn! I'll be damned." "I'm afraid ye will," answered the Deacon, "if ye euss Ijko that. What on airth's the matter!'' f'ir the boy bad sunt to the ground with a groan. Tru sick," he moaned. "I'm so sick. I've ben sick fur dars. I can't ride no more I tell ye 1 can't ride ter night." "I haint asked ye to ride," said the Deacon, as he knelt down beside him and looked into the feverish fsce and marked the labored breathing and staring tyes. "an, what's more, I haint again to shK no secb poor, sick critter to ride BOthia'. Who be ye, anyhow?" "Signor Rinaldo Itoudinell," murmured the boy. "What!" ejaculated the Deacon.' "Cbampinn bar back rider of the world," he went on half nncomciously. "Yas, I'm com in wait can't yer till 1 git uy trucks ouV tfcsa

suddenly rousing, he added, "Bill Edwards

outside de tent. "Outside the tent?" the Deacon asked wonderin el y. "Yas, de tent de circus yer fcniw. I belongs ter de circus cars de luck," acd he sank back on the damp grass with a shudder. The Deacon Involuntarily drew away. The boy If in there so sick and helplem did not see the movement or repugnance, tit moaned and stretched out his long, thin, dirtv band as if reaching for help. The Deacon looked at him. A circus rider! A hard case no doubt. Those lines, and seams and scars on that face did not moan innocence. W hat should he dot Go for th. doctor? Evi dently the boy was sick and suffering here the lone, gaunt hand thrown out on the velvet moss twitched nervously. Deacon Bulge's eyes fell on it it was such a thin band someway it looked as thou eh It bad never bld any of the comforts of life the Deacon's "big, generous palm suddenly elosed over it with a gesture of protection. At the touch the boy opened his eyes; tne beacon smiled down at him and said, "Don't ye think ye can git up my son, an come up to the house with me an have a good, strong cap of tea an' suthin' to cat an' then we'll see what's best to be done?" Signor Rinaldo stared at the Beacon a moment, then silently accepted the out-stretched hand and with its assistance got on his feet. Then the Deacon pot bis arm around him as tenderly as be might about his own son and half-led, half carried him to the farm-house. The amazement of Mis' Deacon Budge, when she saw her consort approaching, holding a most dilapidated stranger in bis brawny arms, may be imagined. "Lordamassy!" she cried in a shrill v6ice. "In the name of all horned cattle, what ye got thai' a tramo?" '"One of the circusers," laconically responded her husband. "A circuser!" screamed the good woman in the same accent she would have e mployed had the deacon announced that be had invited the Father of all Evils to drop in to tea. The horror in her tone of voice was so pnlpable that it seemed to amuse the sick man. lie opened his eyes languidly and said. "Don't yer be ska't ole lady I shan't eat yer." and then promptly and quietly fainted away. That was enough for Annt Betty Budge. She flew around as she expressed it, "like a hen with her head cutoff." Id five minutes, ene bad Signor Rinaldo'a feet in hot water, mustard on bis chess and the kitchen reeled with the mingled perfume of hartshorn, camphor, arnica and burnt feathers. The instant he recovered consciousness, she poured down him a cup of her very best catnip tea and she would have followed this with a prompt dose of thorough-wort and pennyroyal had not ' the Deacon interfered. "Don't kill him the very first thing, Betsy," he said, with a twinkle in his kind eyes. "He's a dretful sick boy, Ebenezer." said Mis' Budee. "Yfes," said the champion B. B. R. "I am siek, but I've got ter git ter headquarters 'bout's Quick's I kin go dere. Yer see, day sent me dis mornin ter find a stream ter water some of de hosses at an' I remember findin' a brook down dere in dat medder an' I don't remember no more till I heerd some sin gin'. Yer've been awful (rood to sech a chump as I be an' I must be goin' now fer I've missed one show an' I'll ketch it yer kin bet" tie rose to go, out staggered, caught at a chair and steadied himself "with it. "Won't they let ye off seem' ye're so sick?' asked the Deacon. "Let me off! Not by a " he stopped suddenly and looked at Aunt Betsy. She vas regarding bim with anxious, motherly eyes. She was a plain woman, dressed in a neat gingham gown and snowy apron, but there was a certain homely dignity about ber wbich Siznor Rinaldo recognized and he did not finish his sentence. He clapped on his battered hat and reeled toward the door. The Deacon hesitated a moment and then said decidedly: "Wait a bit. If ye re determined to go, my son, I'll go with ye." ''Yon, Ebeneezer! cried his startled wife. "What will folks say? in the church! an the pasture O! Deacon, think twice." "If I thought twenty times, Betsy," calmly replied the husband, "I couldn't think no different. That air boy's no more fit to 70 out alone than nothin' in the world an' I don t see my dooty clear to let him, an' I've made up my mind to go along with bim an' take keer of him, come what will." Signor Rinaldo was leanine against the door. He spoke slowly and with an effort "Yer' re a mighty squar' ole coon an' I don't want yer ter git into no trouble on account of a miserable cuss like me, an' 1 tell yer ye're liable ter. Dey're an awful tough lot an' dey'U pitch inter me hot fer not bein' dere dis afternoon, an' dey might say somethin' ter ye yer wouldn't like." "I'll take my chances," said the Deacon, as he put on his old-fashioned beaver hat. and patting bis arm once more about his charge, the strangely assorted pair set out "I didn't like ter mention it in front of yer missus, "said Signor Rinaldo, as they turned into the circus grounds, "but dey'J) give me hell." "Wall" said the Deacon, slowly measuring his words, "Wall, if they do I shall stand by ye, though all htll prevail agin ye." They took their way past the tents of the Fat Woman, the Living Skeleton, the Snake Charmer, the Educated Hog, and the rest of a glittering array of talent, and entered a small tent in the rear of the great canvas spread for the per-, form an ce. The Deacon was suddenly aware of horses impatiently stamping and neighing; of men in ' trunks and tights; of a clown, with a hideous, painted face; of two or three women dressed in such a manner that he involuntarily closed his eyes and murmured a prayer. A big, stout man with an evil face, who was cracking a long whip, came forward as they entered. "Hullo!" he cried, as he saw Signor Rinaldo, "Where in blue blazes hev ye ben?" "Ban sick," said the boy desperately. "I am sick too sick to ride. Let me off ter night." "Sick, " snarled the ringmaster. "Drunk more likely. Look alive now an git roady to ride. I'll settle with ye later. Who's your friend?" staring at the Deacon. "He been awful good ter me," stid the boy, an' ye jest treat bim decent, will yer?" "To be sure," answered the ringmaster. "Come on, old cove," and before the Deacon could realize anything be was bustled out into the big tent, filled from top bottom with thecitzens of Durkeyville and people from the country round for twenty miles. For an instant he stood as though paralyzed. Like lightning the thought of his terribly 'false position flashed through his mind. But while he stood irresolute, not knowing which way to turn, the Master of Ceremonies strele into the ring and shouted: "Ladies and gentlemen, I have tha honor to present to you now the world famous the great and only Signor Rinaldo Rondinelli. the greatest bare back rider of the day, who will perform his wonderful and uuparalled act" There was a bnrst of music, the curtains were swung aside, and whiter than the prancine horse he rode, in velvet, spangles and tights, came the Deacon's protege. Crash, bang went the band. The clown's shrill laughter echoed through the tent The ring master flourished and cracttod bis whip. Twice around the ring the horse madly galloped, then that slight, wavering figure clipped from bis back and went down in the dirt fond the sawdust like a log. There was a great outcry and confusion. People sprang from their seats and shouted all sorts of directions. Two athletic fellows leaped lightly into the ring, lifted the rider and carried him without the curtain, followed by the horse, walking slowly with drooping head, as if he understood what had happened, the clown, the ring master and the Deacon. The latter pushed his way in and saw Signor Rinaldo lying on the ground apparently lifeless. Once more that long, gaunt hand was flung out as if asking help. "Git up!" said the ring master, kicking the prostrate form. "Git up or I'll" ho Dever finished the sentence for a blow from the Deacon's fist, like the stroke of a sledge hammer, laid bim low. Then a frightful hubbub arose. Four or five men fell upon Signor Rmaldo's protsetor. At that moment the old Adam in the Deacon broke forth. Remember, it had ten bottled up for many years. He knew no law of boxing or parrying, but he struck out from the shoulder indiscriminately right and left. His ponderous fists struck the sknlls of bis assailants with resounding cracks. He swept them before him as ten,-pins fall before a skilled bowler, and like a whirlwind be swooped down uon the unconscious boy, lifted him in his strong arms, burst through the astocshed group and was gone. For weeks Signor Rinaldo hovered between life and death in the old farm-touse. The Deacon and Auct Betsy took turns in watching and nursing him while he lay babblir.g incoherently of horses, rings, hoops, fences and horizontal bars. At times his language was anything but choice and not infrequently his room rang with curses so cold blooded and outrageous that the good couple who tended him shuddered with horror. However the crisis was safely paused and the patient began to mend. He was grateful and lookrd up to the Deacon as one a little lower than the angels. .It was the good roan's custom to have prayers nch evening in th great kitchen. Signor liinaldf used to lie and listen soberly to these devotions. One night after the Deacon had finished i-raying, hia patient suddenly spoke. "Dekio, wot was de song yer sang dat day yer com acrost me in der lot? "My favorite hymn, my son, 'Theie is a fountain filled with blood.'" There was silence for a moment, then Signor Rinaldo said timidly. "I'd like fuitrate to Aear it agin.

The Deacon threw back his head, closed his

eyes tsd sang with great enjoyment The sick boy listened with attention and when be finished simply said: y "Dem'i nice words. I'm much obliged." After that there seemed to be a tacit understanding Between them that the Deacon should conclude his evening services with this old hymn, and one day he beard Signor Rinaldo trying to num. And there may I, tho' vile as he. Wash all my sins away. He etoie to his wife and said, "Blessed be God, Betsv, that air hain't so 6 tunny ground as I thought. Joss think on it that poor critter tryin to sing that hymn." Meanwhile there was vexatious times among the brethren. It wa3 generally conceded that the deacon had backslidden and fallen from grace. It was decided that steps of labor should be taken with him, and with this aim the elder, a long. lank, solemn-viaaged man. Deacon Tokey and one or two other bright and shining lights called upon him. "We have come on a mournful errant broth er," began Deacen Tokey. "We have somewhat agin ye. We are grieved with ye for goin' to that air nngawdley circus and fer a-gittm' into that unseemly brawl. We feel we can t set nnder the droppin's of the sanctuary with ye onless euthin s done. "Yon understand. Deacon," added the Elder. folding his hands as if be were about to take to his coffin, "you understand that we can t have no blemish on the garments of the spouse of the lamb. The line must be sharply drawn between the Lord's anointed and sinners, lour motives may have been well enough, but consider four example to the youth or this community, feel for you and I have this propersition to make. If you will send away that emissary of Satan you are now harboring, no further steps snail De lasen in mis lamemaoie iMir.Through the door accidentally left ajar, Sig nor Rinaldo heard this conversation. He raised himself on bis elbow and listened for the Deacon's answer. "Brethren, ve can do as seems best for the good of the cause, but as for turnin' that poor onfortonit critter out of my house the good Lord knows I shant never do no sech cruel thing as that never. He sooke quietly but firmly, and after some further urgiug by bis inquisitors, the interview came to an end. An hour later the Deacon went in to see how his patient was faring. Signor Rinaldo was lying with his face to the wall and when he turned at the aound of his visitor s voice, his eyes were full of tears and he said brokenly. "I heerd it all heerd yer telldem blasted hypocrites yer wouldn't turn me out O how good yer be! I wish I wuz well enough ter go, yer shouldn't have no trouble on my account " "Now, my son," the deacon said gently, "you needn't worry about this. It's all right If they want to do such an unjust thing as turn me out or my church alll can say is M?ather, forgive them.'" , Once again the committee or labor called to impress upon Deacon Budge the necessity of saving himself from public disgrace. . He stead fastly refused to accept their alternative. Signor Rinaldo took a great interest in the affair and only refrained from expressing his views in vigorous language from his bed-room. because the deacon had exacted a pledge from him that he should remain quiet. It was a tor ture to him to lie. there and hear the man he so revered tormented by this whining cant Lying and listening, the idea that at all hazards he must go away and by so doing save his bene factor further trouble, was strongly impressed upon him. .He pondered over it made his resolve and carefully laid bis plans. He was now able to sit up each day for an hour or two and fancied himself much stronger than he really was. To go away now before this public church trial stiould oc cur to save the Deacon and his wife the only human be in es who had ever shown bim any kindness was bis only idea. "He gave no thought to bis destination simply night, to save his friends. It was midnight when be left his bed and dressed himself in the clothes made many years before for the boy who slept on a Southern battlefield and which Aunt Betsy had taken out of a long unused room up stairs. He was still weak and was forced often to stop and rest. Having dressed, be sat down, and by the dim light of the lamp scrawled a note to the Deacon. This finished, he stood for a moment before the door which led to the room where bis friends were sleeping. His lips were moving and he nervously clasped and unclasped his bands again and again. At last he cautiously slid back the bolt, opened the door and went out into the black night Aunt Betsy repeatedly wiped her eyes with her apron, when the Deacon, next morning, read in a trembling voiee the scrawl that the absconding one had left behind him. "deer dekin fer de luv of god say yer turned me out an it nil be all rite 1 sbant never tergit yer an deer ant betsy yeve ben so good ter me good by furever billy." .It was the opening day of the ehnrch trial and by all precedent the Deacan should appear before the ecclesiastical tribunal and answer the charges brought against bim, bat instead be went to the barn, harnessed old Fan and drove up to the kitchen door. 1 "Why Ebenezer " cried Annt Betsy, "Wbar be ye goin'? Have ye forgotten that ye're sum moned to-aayi" ' "They can summon till doomsday, "irreverent ly said the Deacon. "1 hope it will do 'em good. I'm a goin' in search of that poor boy Mis' Budge, church trials er no church trials. "iiibenezer, go ana the Lord snide ye," said Aunt Betsy, and be drove away. The Deacon was bent on a blind chase ' and the benediction breathed upon bim by his good wife seemed to follow him. Down the valley he drove as fast as his old horse could trot It was a clear, cold day in October and he shook his head ominously as he thought of that frail, weak boy out in the chill, nizht air, with no protection save the thin clothes he wore. Past farm houses, meadows and the old stone quarry he drove and finally came into Bentley's pine woods. The solemn, dark trees seem to bint to him that they held a secret under their shade. He left old Fan standing in the highway and plunged into the forest The dry twigs cracKed under his feet. Branches crossed before bim to impede his progress but he thrust them impatiently away. He had not far to go. He came suddenly upon the object of his search, lying on the cold, frosty ground. With an inarticulate exclamation, be tenderly lifted him in his arms and poured the brandy he bad brought between the fast stiffening lips. Signor Rinaldo opened his elazing eyes and looted up into the ragged face, over which the big tears were fast dropping, and said faintly: "Don't cry. Dekin, I hain't wuth it. But Pm glad yer come. I wos jest thinkin' about yer an' that song yer sang down in der medder. Wot wos it about de dyin' thief? sine it true." With a voice broken with emotion the Deacon complied. The dying thief rejoiced to see That Fountain in his day. And there may I, tho' viiejas he, Wash all my sins away. "Dat's me," murmured Signor Rinaldo. "Wash all my sins away wash all my sins away." "My poor boy,sobbed the deacon, "I can't have this so. Ye've killed yoursel what made ye po? Thar wan't n need." "I wanted to help yer," said the dying boy. "Yer stood by me an' I wanted ter stand by" There was a fain t smile a flatter of the eyelids one little gasp, and the deacon laid Signor Rinaldo back on the cold earth, dead. A Campaign Story. Indianapolis Correspondence Lafayette Courier. Hon. Warren Sayre got into town this morn ing from Wabash, accompanied by a highly intellectual pair of spectacles and the benevolent expression that he always wears on state occasions. In consequence of hia coming, a new crop of stories has been thrown on the local market It may be a chestnut, but I will take the chances on husking one of them. According 10 the gentlerr.an from Wabash," an old farmer Republican was on his way to town with a load of wheat, when he overtook a pilgrim pedestrian who requested to be allowed to ride, wbich request was granted. The driver was loqnacions. and the newly-made acquaintances conversed on various tonics as they moved along. Finally the old genteman said: "Stranger, what be your politics?" The stranger replied, with the respect due to the old man who had so kindly favored bim, by saying: "Well, I am a Democrat by profession." The driver squirted a stream of dark-brown tobacco jniee over the side of the wagon-bed, and, with evident astonishment, earnestly ejaculated: "Why, my God, stranger, that isn't a profession it's a disease." " Nlgbfc and Home. It it night now, and here is home. Gathered under the quiet roof elders and children lie aike at rent In the midst of a gr&at peace and calm, the stars look out from th heavens. The silence is peopled with the past; sorrowful remorses for sins and shortcomings memories of passionate joys and grief rise out of their graves, both now alike calm and sad. Eyes, as I shut mine, look at m", that have lone ceased to shine. ; The town and fair landscape sleep under the starlight, wreathed in the antum mists. Twinkling amoung the-houses a hgnt keeps watch here and there, in what may be a sick chamber r two. The clock tolls sweetly in the eil-ct air. Here is night and rest. An awful sense of tbauks makes the heart swell, and the head bow, as I pass to my room through the sleeping bouse, acd feel as though a hushed blessing was upon it

Written for the Sunday Journal. To a Mote. Thou tiny particle, whose presence I can scares discern, E'en when thoa'rt floating past me ia the sun's warm beam , That steals so slyly in, a smiling elf Whose happy purpose is bat to be glad.

Who knows that thou art not a fairy world Upon whose surface moan tains stand, and teeming millions Live and have their being. That while T sit and man A tnousand generations will not come and pass away. And volume of events take place! Men may rise and be called great. Mav meet the armed invaders of their native land And lead their countrymen to victory. May scheme and plot And eacrihee their honor for a name Which, were it to last for ages, could but endure a minute. Gay courtiers may surround themselves with human butter-hies. And spend their brief existence viciously,- surrender u? .... Their stations unto others and be forgotten. Great monuments, stupendous, grand, may be erected. Admired by the succeeding generations, and, ere this sentence is complete. Their crumbling wads make some wise pigmy to re use t And wonder at the ravages of time. But my musing's at an end: thine orbit Hath led thee into unknown space. Thou art A cold and lifeless world. And yet, why marvel at thy fate? If that which learned skeptics tell is true. Then thy fate is ours; and when yon sun. v hose golden ray has been thy space, shall smile no more upon us. We and all our works will be as though we never were. As wholly lost to other worlds as thou ait now to us. MOBBISTOWW, Ind. A. II. Two Songs. Written for the Sunday Journal. Two poets stood beside fate's door. And sang as only they can sing Who hold within their hearts the love Of truth and faith and everything That unto pure, sweet troth belongs. One sans; of fame with kin dling eye, And arms outstretched, as though to clasp The treasure as it passed him by. 1 "What more," he trilled, "could poet ask Than that the world thould praise his song?" And then the other, in a tone That trembled in its ecstacy. And rose, and fell, and died away Into the faintest memory ' Of songs that paradise once knew, Sang on of love; and sunshine poured From out his lips in golden gleams. "What more, he whispered, -oould one ask Than that the world should love his dreams And through that love become more true?" In after years they sang again Those two beside fate's close-barred doors, And one was laurel wreathed and moaned Of age and grief that evermore, ' Ah! evermore must be his part. But he, who on that other day Had sung of love, now sang again As only he can sing who finds No bitterness in life, nor pain Of unbelief nor wounded heart. . Olla Perkins Toph. Papa, Tot Would You Take) for Me?" She was ready for bed and lay on my arm, in ner little trilled cap so tine. With her golden hair falling out at the edge. XnJce a circle of noon sunshine. And I hummed the old tune of "Banbury Cross," And "Tnree Men Who J'ut Out to Sea." When she speedily said, as she closed her bine eyes, -.rape, 10 1 wouia yoa taite tor mef And I answered: "A dollar, dear little heart." And she slept, baby weary with play. But I held her warm in my love strong arms. And 1 rocked ner and rooked away. Ob, the dollar meant all the world to me, Tne land, and tne sea, and the sky. The lowest depths of the lowest place, Une highest 01 all that s nigh. The cities, with streets and palaces, I heir pictures and stores of art. I would not take for one low, soft throb Of my little one s loving heart Nor all the gold that was ever found In the busy, wealth-nnding past Would I take for one smile of my darling's face. Did 1 know it must be the last. So I rocked my baby and rocked away. And 1 ieit sucn a sweet content. For the words of the song expressed to me more than they ever before had meant. And the night crept on, and I slept and dreamed Of thincrs far too el ad to be. . And I awakened with lips saying close to my ears. " iapa, lot would you take tor me -Deacon Bitters. Here Deacon Bitters dwelt and kept the store. The richest man for many a mile of shore; In little less than everything dealt he, From meeting-houses to a chest of tea; -So dextrous therewithal a flint to skin, He could make profit on a single pin: In business strict to bring the balance true He had been known to bite a fig in two, And change a board-nail for a shingle-naiL All that he had he readv held for sale, His house, his tomb, whate'er the law allows. And he had gladly parted from his spouse. His one ambition stiu to get and get, He would arrest your very ghost for debt His store looked righteous, should the parson come, But in a dark back room he peddled ram. And eased Ma'am Conscience, if she e'er would scold, By christening it with wster ere he sold. A small, dry maa he was, who wore a eue. And one white neck-cloth all the week-days through On Monday white, by Saturday as dun. As that worn homeward by the prodigal son. James Bussell Lowell; "fits Adam's ; tory.(New). Are They Glad? If she were here To take my hand and ask. "What is it dear?" She would not see the wrinkles on my f aee. Nor note the silver where the gold had place; Upon my faded lip she'd leave a kiss, And whisper, "Darling." and she would not miss. The vanished rose; or, if sbo did, would say, "How you have ripened since I went awayl'' The blemishes that others might despise Would still be beautiful to mother's eyes. If she were here. She would not mind the changes; if a tear Should fill mv eye, I know that she would see, And give sweet consolation unto me; Yet. in her heart, some things would little heed, Knowing how much their discipline I need. And so, I think, though heaven be not far, And friends can see us even as we are, They may be glad, like loving motherhood, Because they know how all things work for good. " Julia May. The Realm of Reverie. I seek its aerie shore as one enchanted, Where falls a mystic, dim, delicious glow. On dusky violets and mistful daisies, And ghosts of roses loved long years ago. While pallid lilly bells, slow swinging toll Not sounds, but silences, into the soul. And oh! its hawthorn blossoms mock the snowdrift Bat never melt and never wear away. While fair below the gently waving branches, Gold-shimmered mists and azure shadows play. Close where a silver streamlet runs along So softly, it has neither langh nor song. This region is my own, O mv beloved! So much my own I cancot show it thee; But when in blessed mood my spirit sees U This phantom realm, this Kealm of Reverie, Believe me, all the raptured quiet there Seems waiting for thy voiee to fill the air. Louise V Boyd, in April Century. Aladdin. When I was a beggarly boy. And lived in a cellar damp, I had not a friend nor a toy, Bat I had Aladdin's lamp. When I could not sleep for cold, : . I had fire enough in my brain. And builded with roof s of gold . My beautiful castles in Spain. Since then I have toiled day and night I have ro oney and power good store. But I'd give all my lamps of silver bright For the one that is mine no more. Take, Fortune, whatever you choose, Yoa gave and may snatch again; I have nothing 'twould pain me to lose, For I own no more castles in Spain. ' J. B. Lowell. Motherhood. She softly sings, and paces to and fro. Patient, unwearied, bearing in her arms m The fretful, sickly child, with all its harms, Deformed and imbecile, her love and woe. Croons, with caressing intonation, low. Some sweet, old minor melody, that charms The ear that listens, and the sufferer calms. And her own sorrows soothes with silver flow. O holy tenderness of motherhood! Most pitilul and patient to the child. Foolish, unlovely, aeeminglv deSled By powers -of death and darkness. The All Good Alone so lovetn and rememoeretn, And, like a tender parent pitieth. April Century. The First Sign. I diligently searehed the shrubs and trees. Whose branches bare moved in the chilly breere, And, stooping low, the earth I close surveyed. But found no budding leaf nor springing blade. I sadly rose, and slowly waited away; But soon my somber thoughts grew blithe and gay, For I beheld a dead sure sign of spring Four wrangling boys, with marbles in a ring. Puck. Compensation. "Who hesitates is lost" Isan adage old, Fearful lovers to their cost. Learn they must be bold. Bat, since nothing new can be Underneath the sun, T is an old and true that she Who hesitates ia won. Kemper Bocock, in April Century.

HEADING FOR TIIE SABBATH.

Sunday-School Lesion For April 15, 1888. Chbistias Watchfulness. Matt xxiv, 42-51. Golden Text And what I say unto you, I say unto all, Watch! Mark xiii, 34. Mon Matt xxiv. 42-51. .....Christian watchfulness Tues Mark riii, 21-37 Watch and pray Wed 2 Pet. iii, 1-14 As a thief in the night Thure 1 Pet. v, 1-11...... Watching the enemy Fri '2 These, i, 1-12.... Worthy of the kingdom Sat Matt. xxiv. 15-31 ..Gathering the elect Sun Matt, xxiv, 32-41... Unreadiness of the world The Saviour had visited the Temple for the last time, and was on His way to Bethany with Bis disciples. From the summit of the Mount of Olives there is a maenificeut view of the Temple and the whole city of Jerusalem. It was a fitting place and time for a discourse about the things that were to come. lie predicted the destruction of the Temple and the chosen city. He prophesied the coming of the Son of Man to judee the world. TheD, foreseeing the habit of men to crow either careless or discouraged while waiting for the coming of events. He urges the great duty of watchfulness, that they may be ready when the great hour comes, HINTS AND HELPS. Some test questions. 1. To what does the word therefore" (42) refer! 2. How many different events are referred to by the coming of the Lord? 3. What is the meaning of the phrase (43) ' broken, up?" 4. What were the duties of the ruler of the household! 5. What the meaning (51) of "cut him asunder!" 7. What the meaning (51) of "weeping and gnashine.of teeth?' ( Subjects for class talks. 1. Some Scripture illustrations of the value of watchfulness. 2. The daily advents of our Lord as fitting us for tha great days of His appearing. 3. The Lord is surely coming, and is on the way. 4- "If the good man had known" the things to come. Hut readiness would have taken the place of knowledge. 5. "Be ye also ready," with an application to some late event in the community. 6. When the Lord comes to call us to die, it will be as blessed to be "found so doing" as to be found praying. 7. Look for some divine appearing everv day. 8. Some illustrations from real life of the sudden death of men who were unprepared. SPECIAL APPLICATION. 1. "The Lord doth coma" All history has this meaning and key. 2. It is the greatest folly for men to assume to determine the final day. the date of the second coming ot the Lord Jesus. 3. Readiness, watchfulness, the ideal quality of the soldier or sailor. Illustrate by a sudden night attack of a camp or a cry of "Man overboard" on a shin. 4. The best way to "watch and wait" for His coming is to be ever at work for Him. Hold In. Forward; Hold in your temper! Keen it under control. Like a spirited horse, it may prove a strong force to help you along when discouraged; but like sucn a horse, it may become unmanaeable and run away with you. Then you cannot tell what mav be the result Hold it in. Hold in your tongue! It is a useful member, and may prove a blessing, but allowed to run wild will ruin you, and not you alone. Be care ful that it never gets control of you, never al low another to control it. Do not say what you are u. willing to utter, no matter who may re quest, if such words be improper. Hold in your thoughts! Lvu deeds start with the thouzbts. Thoughts are so quiet that we seldom snspect their power until they have gained control of us. Watch; hold them in con trol; and as soon asevu arises there, stop it at once. Thoughts are like horses that will run away; they must never be allowed to start with out a master. Religious Notes. It is computed that there are 16,447,990 Sun day-school scholars m the Christian world. Jacobus: We are first of all, in all our pray ers and in all our conduct, to have respect to God s glory. "Oh, Lord," prays an Arab. "1 am going out to kill a man. Help me to be successful, and I will respect Thy name forevermore." An ancient Jewish proverb says that one day before he dies every man should make bis peace with God; but as he is not sure of any day but this, he should do it now. Rev. C H. Spurgeon. of London, preaching on a recent bnnday evening, said that till recently he knew by name and by face all the 5,000 members of his chureb. One of the Southern religious exchanges gives the following example of a brief temperance lecture: "Which! Wife or whisky? The babies or the bottle! Homo or hell!" The famous Thursday morning service by Dr Joseph Parker, of London, will henceforth be given up to lectures on topics that are for tha time beme uppermost in the public mind, such aa "The Classes and the Masses," ate. Hon. Charles T. Caldwell, one of West Vir ginia s most prominent attorneys, known here tofore from his infidelity as the "Ineersoll of the West Virginia bar," has been appointed and licensed as a minister in the Methodist Episcopal Church. The Salvation Army of London has estab lished a cheap food depot at the Bast End to relieve the distress wbich prevails there. For one peony aa adult receives refreshment and a night's lodging, soup and bread. For a halfpenny be gets either bread or soup. "The unfortunate result of nerlect of Biblical study," says the Christian World, "is that the laity, having no rational basis for their belief, and accepting a second-band theology from the pulpit, become the easy victims of assaults on their faith, and join the growing mass ef those who are mdifierent to all organized religion." Last year, when the Societies of Christian En deavor had not attained half their present pro portions, 14.000 young people, it is said, were brought from their ranks into the various evan gelical churches. This year, from all parts of the country come reports of revival interest and of conversions in connection with the meetings. The present population of the empire of Japan is 38,000.000; the number of Japanese Christians is 50,000, which is a number large enough, considering the fact that the gospel was first preached in Japan only thirty years ago. These 50,000 are a powerfnl leaven, and its working is felt all over the islands, and in every part of society. In the religion of tho new Testament hope is net a distinct and separate element It has its root deep in that truth which is the center and heart of all the love of God. Because He is our Father and all things are in His hand; because we come into the world the children of God, and the whole structure of nature and providence is set to bring His children up to Himself, therefore our hope is sure. The Baptist Year Book for 1888 shews that there is now in the United States a Baptist membership of 2.917,315. Daring the year past there ware 158.373 baptisms, and 104.511 additions in other ways. The value of church property is $48,568,686. and the amount of reported contributions ia $8,937,491.36. including $5.849.756 52, for salaries and expenses of the churches themselves. There are 20,477 ministers, 31,891 churches, 15,447 Sunday-shools. Presbyterian Observer: Grace expands and matures not only because such is its nature, but because of its sweetness and excellence. Its possessors find it pleasant to the taste, nourish ing to the soul and indispensible to the spiritual health. As they see it in the image of God, they want more and more of it, so that they may resemble the divine original. A source of peace and blessedness, they crave its increase. as tberebv these rich boons more ana more gladden their hearts. Mid-Continent: Into how many thousands of books bas the name of Christ entered and shed a sweet and a-red influence. What millions of pages of periodical religious literature perfumed with the name of Jesus are sent liKe Dying scrolls over the land. Christ has made revolutions in hearts, revolutions in homes, revolutions in nations, revolutions in literature. He bas turned and overturned. Earth is very much ehaceed sioee the advent into it of Jesus Christ Surely this world has felt bis coming. In western Persia there are now 1,932 church members, in place of 713 fifteen years ago. During the revival which followed the week of prayer the number of inquirers was over 500. The revival was conducted wholly by native pastors. Of the seventv-nine students in the collpe at Ooroomiah, seventy are followers of Christ The Western mission has ninety-four village schools, with over 200 pnpila. Dr Labar?e reports that the Moslems of Persia are more accessible than those of any other land. The Ch ristian at Work is responsible for the consequences if the following paragraph creates a general domestic revolution in these ret: ions: "A new sect has made its appearance in t'lvland. Russia, the cardinal tenot of which is the supremacy of the woman in the family. The men of this queer reiieious association abdicate all domestic authority to their wives, while the latter choose from among their own number one woman, who is their queen. The particu lars with regard to this sect are as yet very scant but there is an older faith in Siberia, the disciples of which call themselves Purifiers, who also pay marked honors to the women of the family." A "Tleht" Clait of Ioubk Womeo. Hew Vork World ... A new Boston cult that is just mating its ap pearance here is what i called a '"tight class, which bas no reference whatever to the effects of alcbohoL Those classes are trained by a

young woman, who is the exponent of the Delarte theory in America and who has been through a course of training under Mile. Delsarte. in Paris. The theory is that as the whole body is but an inttrnment of the mind every part and member needs to be trained to the most perfect frfidm. Not one person in a hnudred can make a gesture with the unconscious grace of a child or an animal for "the simple reason that an arbitrary volition is so impacted ia muscle that one controls every sinew artificially without knowing it." This idea of thes 'tight classes" is to break up this artificial control, and they derive the name from the fact that they wear tights while practicing, whioh is done under the eye of the young female exponent of the art HUMOR OP THE DAY.

Professional Promptness. Puck. . Lady Physician Dear me, I wonder if it is ever going to clear off? A patient sent for ma two days ago. A Distinction svnd a Difference. The Epoch. Brown I have) always understood, Damley, that Lumley was a friend of yours! Dumley Friead, naw! He is a relative. A Definition. Life. A f ueue is a fo rm of music in whioh the rleht hand says to the left band If fueue get tfiere before I do. Tell them I'ma-coming too. In Keeping.. Boston Transcript. "Mrs. Smith b;ts lost ber husband." "I know it; and oniy think of it she has p t on only half-mourning." "Very true; but then, you know, Mr. Smith was a very small man." A Spring Petition. Bloomlngton (111.) Eve. Mr" (to wayward youne son) Tommy. why v you say your prayers like your sister AlieJ iv ward son I would, mother, if I knew hott prayer like Alice says. "Well, what is i iv that Alice says?" "Why, she jumps into b?d and says: 'O, Lord! I wish I had a new bonnet" ; . Kept Lent. New York Sun. "That $5 I loaned yoc sometime ago, Fledgely," observed Robinson, "sets a good example to Christ'ans." "Er-ves," replied Fledgely, with an embarrassed laugh. "How how's that?" "It keeps lent so well?" Didn't Work for Once. New York Sun. "Will you be kind enough, pa," said Bebby, in a low, well-modulated tone of voice, "to givt me another piece of pie?" "No, sir," .replied the old man, "you've hat enough." "Ma," sai.d Bobby, with a dubious air, "you told me that politeness always pays." An Apt Answer. Boston Counter. "Who was the wisest man?" asked the Sun-day-school teacher. "Solomom," promptly replied a little girL Anil nrh, ti. hnliiuf!" . . "Mo6es." "Mosesi What makes you think sot ''Because I often heard papa speak of Moses." Holy Johnnie's Answer. Yonkers Statesman. "Now, Johnnie," said the Sunday-school teacher, who was trying to impress on the minds of her scholars the importance of kindness to dumb animetls, "when your father wants bis horse to go, and be will not, does be whip him?" "No, maVim." "Now, tell the boys what he does do." "Swears at him, ma'am." The Old Man Was Agin' Trusts. Washington Critic. B In conrressional circles: He Will you tru3t sse, darling! She (sobering) No, dot rest; . I cannot. He (wildUyJ Great Leavens, darling! Not trust me! She No, no. Papa is a member of Congress and is violently opposed to every kind of trust! and I must respect his wishes. A Mother's Anxiety. ' New York Sun. They were sleighriding. "Can you drive with one hand, Mr. Sampson?" she asked, and she asked it very sweetlv. "Oh, yes," Be replied, "bnt I think it looks better to drive with both." 'Perhaps it does," she said. In a cold, convinced tone of voice, and then added: "We mustn't be gone too long, Mr. Sampson, mamma will bo anxious." A Trifle Ran Down. New York Sun. Chicago Phytieian (to Mrs.' Breezy) I am sorry to bear that your daughter is not well, Mrs. Breezy. ' Is it anything serious? Mrs. Breezy Oh, I fancy not; but Clara is of such an ethereal, delicate organization that the least th'ng npsats ber. Chicago Physician She didn't say what she thought the matter was! Mrs. Breezy No; sh simply complained at breakfast this morning of feeling very rocky. Shakspeare Knocked Oat Again. Washington Critio . They tell this one on Congressman Campbell (not Timothy S ) of New York. When he was in London last fall he west to bear Mary Anderson in "Winter's Tale," and after the per formance met a party of friends at dinner. "And what do you think of our Mary?" asked an American. "Well," he replied with deliberation, "I like Mary very in a eh indeed, but d the fellow that wrote such a play." Local Jealousy. New York Snn. Western Man (to fellow passenger I'm just from Yeurope. Passenger Thut so? Western Man Yes; took in the hull business, London, Paris,' Liverpool everything. Passenger London's a big town. Western Man Yes, big, slow. Lacks git up an' git Passenger Ym visited St Paul's Cathedral, of course? Western Man No; I saw the buildin', but I didn't go inside. I'm a Minneapolis man, myself. Russlais Freedom of Opinion George Kennan. in April Ceutary. "It is bard for an American to realise a state of affairs in whicb the public expression of a judgment or an opinion with regard to governmental actioa is 'unpermitted,' and in which it is more or loss hazardous for a dozen lawabiding citizens to meet at regular intervals in a private bouse for the discussion of public questions. Section 320 of Title IV declares that 'Persons guilty of belonging to a society which employs any means whatever to conceal from the government its existence, its nature, or its aims, or to kep secret meetings, the subjeet of its deliberations, or the relations between It members, or a society, which secretly disseninates any doctrines whatever, shall be imprisoned in a fortress for not less than four nor more than eight months, or in a prison for not less than one nor mora than three weeks, according to the circumstances of the case.' "Of courso, persons who meet regularly for any purpose' in a private house render themselves liable, to an accusation based upon this section. As soon as their meetings attract the attention of the secret police, they are made the subject of an official examination, which almost always leads to consequences more or less unpleasant for the participants. I know a group of gentlemen in St. Petersborg who meet at statad intervals for the discussion of publie afftirs, and who, though they are neither conspirators nor revolutionists, spend the evening in making a pretense of gambling, in order that neiih-r the servants nor the police may snspect them of secret machinations. In the eyes of the government a club of gamblers is a safe and innocent organization, but a private debating society is a dangerous menace to social order and to the rights and privileges ot tha Supreme Authority." Dana and Ilia Reporter. Albany Press. . ' Coming down town in an elevated ear In New York the other dav a reporter for the Sun was engaged hunting for bis "work" In the paper, when the editor of that paper entered and took a seat beside the reporter, who knew bim not, as reporters seldom or never see the editors-in-chief Mr. Dana bad occasion to look out of the window, and leaned slightly against the report-r, who jn tones of "freezing pohteneas", asked: "Have you had yoar breakfa!. sir!'' "Yes." blandly responded the editor. "Then, sir, I should feel much oblige 1 if Y v would lean on it." "Eh, what's that? I never heard tht vU . o. Lean on the breakfaat. sir. did you ear on the breakfast? In all my experience as an vUutr readme jokes daily, telling them an 1 hwarm; them toid and iny paper, the Sun. has ita share I ner head that one before. Will ycai permit me to use tt in the Sun? Jiy this time the reporter was as limp as a r, and he hastened ovt of the car at the first sta tioa. '