Pike County Democrat, Volume 30, Number 15, Petersburg, Pike County, 18 August 1899 — Page 7

Slu gift* County gcraoctat m. MoC. STOOPS. Editor and Proprietor TETERSBURG. : : INDIANA. REMEMBERED BEST OF ALL. When I’m looking back across the time* • worn pages Of the book of years one face I always -Just one gentle face that alters not nor ages. But seems now and evermore the same to me. 1 can feel a loving hand in mine entwining,. When my faltering childish steps wfert fain to fall. With its watchful eyes like stars upon me shining— 'Tts the face that I remember best of all! "When I look around, and memory is bringing Back again the echoed songs of*long ago,, :Songs that ever down the halls of Time are ringing. Songs that set my listening - youthful heart aglow— •All the visions bright of years gone by they bring me, , » And they seem to hold my spirit in their thrall, 'But the simple air a dear voice used to sing me Is the song that /remember best of all! When I dream of all the gladness that has blest me, And the sunshine that has made life's pathway bright. When I long from all the toil of earth to rest me, Till the dawning of the day that knows no night, I remember all the love the years have taught me. And the happiness that filled them I recall; But a mother’s love and all the joy It brought me % Is the ldve that I remember best of all! -Clifton Bingham, In Chambers’ Journal. A. ft I Jii 1.1 J AAA I 1 ft I 1 .1 1 l l 1 a 1 i.

: An Unconscious Ally •41 _,_ I HAVE always had a remarkably large number of friends of my own sex. Lest this should lead people to give me an undue amount of credit for amia^ bility and sweetness of disposition, I may as well state at once that I have a, marriageable brother. Being possessed also of a fair amount of brains, I was never for a moment deceived as to the nature'of the affection lavished upon me by most of my female friends. But then my dearest chum, the girl I really thought loved me for myself alone, told me she was engaged to

be married to my brother Fred, my grief and anger knew no bounds. I had gone over to stay all night with Maud, and had laid awake till three a. m. exchanging confidences, and all the time the sneak never said a word about Fred. At last I dropped off to sleep and. was just in the midst of a glorious dream, in which I was leading a cotillon with a magnificent man with soulful eyes and a bank account in seven figures, when Maud suddenly threw her arms about my neck, entirely shutting ■off my wind and scaring me almost into nervous prostration,, and with a burst of tears confessed that ghe had been keeping a secret from me for two whole days, and< that we were to be really, truly sisters, not just sisters in affection, as heretofore, etc. I managed to wriggle out from under Maud’s arm, and then I sat up in bed •and said things. I don’t remember exactly what they were, but they must have been pretty bad, for Fred didn’t speak to me for a week (of course, Maud had to tell him), and Maud herself went around looking like a suffering martyr whenever we chanced to be under the same roof. I was convinced that I was the most miserable girl in the world, after that, and the worst of it was that everybody, including Maud herself, thought I was only mad because she was engaged first, an imputation which I need not say was •entirely unjust. I’m sure I could not see what Maud C had done that was so wonderful anyway. Fred is anything but brilliant, -and I never considered him even goodlooking, while as long as mamma lives he hasn’t a penny to his name except his salary, which is by no means princely. But Maud! You’d have thought she’d • landed a Vanderbilt or a poet-laureate the way she acted. I pretended not to notice her airs and •nursed my grief in proud silence, but I hac^no doubt that I was the most wronged and unhappy creature that •ever lived until subsequent events taught me that our affairs are arranged by an all-wise Providence, in whom we may safely trust, no matter how dark •our*way may seem at the time. I shall never doubt the wisdom of Providence again. * To begin with, I found that I was likely to get a lot of amusement out of this engagement. Fred was madly jealous of Maud all the time, though anyone •could see with half an eye .that she was aimply mad about him and in deadly fear of losing him herself.

He would come home at least three times a week, pale, haggard and wild«eyed, a man bereft-of hope. The rest of the time he was madly joyful and talked about Maud as if she was several ■degrees higher than the seraphim. ‘It was enough to make a St. Bernard dog laugh just to see him. * I also found further consolation in the fact that his state of mind interfered seriously with Fred’s appetite, that I got all the extra pudding and things that had always fallen to his cshare (Fred was always a greedy thing), ■and then Percival Jones came from abroad. Percival was a millioaire’s son, with a face too beautiful for words and a taste for Ibsen. Of course, all this made him desirable beyond most other men, but I must say the way the girls of Archerville made different kinds of fools of themselves -about him was enough to disgust even a woman’s rights advocate with her sex. I need hardy say that I was smart *nough to treat Mr. Jones with marked

coolness. The first time I met him my behavior seemed to puzzle the pain* pared y out hi The second time he appeared distinctly grateful. On the third he asked permission to coll, and I went home at peace with all the world, even Fred. For five consecutive afternoons after that I sat by the tea table in the back drawing-room, attired in my best gown, expecting Percival—in vain. On the sixth'he came. “What a delightful surprise,” I said gushingly. I was a trifle nervous from waiting so long. “Ah, thanks,” he remarked, looking disappointed. And then mamma came in, and in spite of my previous warnings finished things by treating Mr. Jones as if he were Albert Edward or Mark Hanna or at least a royal duke. Mamma never could resist a millionaire. Our visitor took his leave in less than half an hour, and I knew that unless I adopted desperate measures Fercival Jones was losito me forever. But I am not one to give up easily, and after thinking hard thinks all night, I finally hit on a plan and went to sleep at daybreak and slept till noon as sweetly and as innocently as a child. Early in the afternoon I telephoned to Maud and asked her to go with me out* to the golf links at four o’clock. Then I telephoned to Fred to meet us there, and proceeded to make a fetching toilet with a light heart. When we reached the links there was Mr. Jones (he had mentioned that he was going the day before). He was looking bored as usual, but cheered up when I treated him with haughty coldness.

I eluded his attempts at conversation, however, and threw Maud in his way whenever I could. I was rewarded by seeing him seat himself by Maud’s side and commence a disquisition on Ibsen as Fred came round the hill on his bicycle. No sooner did Fred’s eye light on the couple than he commenced to glare like a madman, and in spite of my innocent efforts to keep him away he wound up by being so outrageously rude to Mr. Jones that that gentleman was confounded and Maud went home in tears. As for me, I went to bed happy. My j plan Was working to a charm. 'A day or two later I got mamma to ask Mr. Jones to dinner and managed to have him take Maud out. That settled it; Fred treated Perceval in such j an insulting manner that even he could I hardly overlook it,dkmd he left early, j to mamma’s distress and my secret joy. j After that I began to meet Perceval every time I went out of the house. No j matter whether I walked or drove or i rode a wheel, I was sure to encounter :

I THREW HIM IN MAUD’S WAT. him before lopg, and he would escort me on my way, leaving me always on * our return at the end of the street leading to our house. “Since your brother, who is your guardian,’ dislikes me so, I cannot, go to your home,” he would say, regretfully, and I would blush and stammer an apology. “But I must see you in spite of him,” Perceval would add with a melting glance, and I would go home in the seventh heaven. At last, after three weeks ^6f this surreptitious courtship* Perceval could stand it no longer. ' “Be my wife, Rosamond,” he cried one day. “Never mind what they say at home; I must have $,ou—I never knew what love was before.” t*oor boy, he had never known the bliss of trying for what he wanted. Before this it had always dropped into his lap. But I couldn’t trust; him even then. “Oh, no,” I said, timidly. “I dare not. Fred would kill you if he thought of such a thing.” “Let him try,” said Perceval, valiantly. “I’ll have you in spite of him. See, here is the minister on his porch, Rosamond. Come, darling, he will give me the right to claim you from yOur brother.”

And before I knew what I was about I found myself in the minister’s parlor being married in a bicycle skirt and pink cotton shirt waist. Ten minute’s later I walked into Fred’s office, leaving Perceval waiting outside, looking a little pale about the gills, but with a combative gleam in his eye. “Fred,” I remarked, coolly, as I looked my brother square in the face, “I want to thank you for what you’ve done for me. I’m Mrs. Perceval Jones, by your leave.” Then a smile of incredulous relief spread over his face. “Gosh!” he ejaculated. “To think that the fellow actually wanted you!”—« Chicago Herald. Scientific Note. “Summers in general,” said Mr. Jason, “is dryer than they used to be. And I shouldn’t wonder ef it come from so much of the wetter being used up in these here artificial ice chines.”—Indianapolis Journal*

WIT AND WISDOM. It’* surprising how gladly soma people will exchange a small load of trouble for a large load of cheap liquor. —Chicago Daily News. The Summer Girl—:“I wonder why It is that all the men are after her?” “I suppose it's the faculty she has for always leading the procession.”—Philadelphia Bulletin. A mother forgives her sons* sins, seeing where they inherit a weakness from their father, but didn’t her husband also have a father to lay the blame on?—Atchison Globe. “That man cheated me out of a cool million.” **Ah!—wouldn’t let you marry his daughter, I suppose?” “No; he let me marry her. and doesn't give us a cent.”—Detroit Free Press. “It makes my blood boil!” he exclaimed. “That’s good,” she replied. “Good!” he cried. “Certainly,” she answered. “Boiling is recommended to remove impurities in all liquids.”— Brooklyn Daily Eagle. “Don’t you know I could have cut old Bitch out when he was courting Miss Belle Smailcash ?” “Why din’t you do it?” “And have her telling me all the rest of my days about the good match she might have made? O, no; not me!” —Ohio State Journal. Penelope—“I hear your engagement with Paul is broken; is that right?” Patience—“Yep.” “Have you returned his ring yet?” “No; I told him he’d have to come around and pick it out; I really don’t know which is his.”—t Yonkers Statesman.

Sense versus Sentiment.—Miss Citigirl (ecstatically)—-“Oh! what a beautiful sight! An apple orchard in full bloom! If the trees could remain always thus, wouldn’t it be delightful?” Farmer Hornypalm—“Gosh all jiminy, miss! Anybody’d think to hear you talk that you was a canker-worm!”— Puck. Mrs. Jones—“Your son Thomas sick? I’m sorry to hear that.” Mrs. Greene— “Yes. The poor fellow was out painting the town, as I have since been informed by young Slater, who lives next door, and I’m afraid the smell of the paint was too much for him. H?s stomach is not very strong.”—Boston Transcript. DON’T FEAR LIONS. A Cfren* Man Says They Are Hot Nearly So Fierce as the Most of People Think. John B. Doris, who owned a circus for 'V3X> years, once said that there is no animal so easity handled and so safe for a performer as a lion. Besides being intelligent they are about as easy tempered as an overgrown dog and once broken in anyone with whom they are familiar can put them through their tricks. People are generally awed by the appearance of the lion and his dreadful roar, but in reality there is no occasion for fear. In fact, the lion roars when he feels in a particularly happy mood, and he can no more restrain himself than a dog can keep from barking. The sound is perhaps not pleasant and the sight of the great open jaws “scary,” but then he really means nothing. It is only his little way. Air. Doris was once making ready tor the road in the exposition building at Indianapolis. There Were some 300 men at work in the building when,

taro ugh tee carelessness of an attendant, two of the lions slipped out of their cage and made straight for a couple of barrels of fat? saved from the animal's food. In less than 15 minutes the 300 men had disappeared through doors and windows, but the attendant coolly seized first one lion and then the other by the scuff of the neck and in turn fairly booted them to their cage. In regard to the thrilling effect of a tamer in a lion’s den there is always a deal of humbug. While the half terrified public looks on both man and beast are performing a part that has been well rehearsed beforehand, and the animals know just what to do. Separately and together they are put through the tricks of. leaping over poles and through hoops of flame. With apparently reckless regard for life, but knowing well what he is nbout, the keeper thrusts his liead‘ between the lion’s jaws. When he discharges a pistol several times the animals scamper round in apparent paroxysms of rage and fear and then finally he dashes out —all a very clever little stage‘performance. If any proof were needed to prove that the lion is not to be feared one has but to watch an ordinary attendant enter the cage to clean it. He sweeps the dirt right and left without the least attention to his majesty, who, unless he keeps out of the way, is as likely as not to get a broomful of dust in his face. The only animals that are really feared by the keepers of a menagerie are the elephant and the leopard, the former from his uncertain temper and the latter because of his perpetually treacherous nature.—Cincinnati Enquirer.

Heroic Escape from Trap. A rat got caught by the leg in a store and squealed loudly for mercy. The proprietor of the store watched the rat, which continued to squeal. Finally another rat crept cautiously out and walked up to his unfortunate companion and evidently took the situation in, for they seemed to talk with each other and arrived at the conclusion that the captured rat’s chances were desperate, for the second one began to gnaw the unfortunate rat’s leg off, allowing it to escape, which it did, limping away on three legs, tbe other leg remaining i^ the trap. It .almost seemed as if they had deliberated over the case and had reached th$ only possible means of escape.—Bangor News. ' Hope. Hope is a wonderful thing. One little nibble will keep some men fishing all day.—Chicago Daily News.

CAPITAL AND LABOR Industrial Problem the Theme of Dr* Talmage’s Sermon. Tells Bow the Caatlaul tween Them May Be Eln< JLeaaon* Drawn fro: cent Strikes. Ear Beunto the Chicago Brooklyn t its railof a [Copyright. 1899, by Louis Klopsch] Washington!, Aug. 11 In this discourse Dr. Talmage gcsts how the everlasting war between capital and labor may be bro ught to a happy end. The text is L Corinthians 12:21: “The eye cannot say hand, I have no need of thee, Fifty thousand workmen ceasing work in one day, stunned by the attempt to h road cars, Cleveland in the labor agitation and restlessness among toilers all over the land have caused an epidemic of strikes, and somewhat to better things I apply the Pauline thought of my text. You have seen an elaborate piece of machinery, with a thousand wheels and a thousand bands and a thousand pulleys, all controlled by one g^eat water wheel, the machinery so adjusted that when you jar one part of it you jar all parts of it. Well, human society is a great piece of mechanism controlled by one great and ever revolving force—the wheel of God’s providence. You harm one part of the machinery and you harm all parts. All professions, interdependent. All trades interdependent. All classes of people interdependent. Capital and labor interdependent. No such thing as independence. Dives cannot kick Lazarus without hurting his own foot. They who threw! Shadrach into the furnace got their own bodies scorched. Or to come back to the figure of the text, what a strange thing it would be if the eye should sajy: I oversee the entire physical mechanism. I despise the other members of the body. If there is anything I am disgusted with, it is with those miserable, lowlived hands. Or what if the hand should say: I am the boss workihan of the whole physical economy. I have no respect fpr the other members of the body. ,Ir there is anything I despise, it is the eye, seated ulfder the dome of the forehead, doing nothing but look. I come in, and I wave the flag of truce between the two contestants, and I say: “The eye cannot say tc^ the hand: M have no need of thee.’ That brings me to the first suggestion, and that is, that labor and capital are to be brought to a better understanding by a complete canvass of the whole subject. They will bejbrought to peace when they find that they are identical in their interests. When one goes down, they both go down, i When one

rises, they both rise. There will be an equilibrium after awhile. There never has been an exception to the |rule. That which is good for one class of society will be good for all, and that which is bad for one class will eventually and in time be b^d for all. Every speech that labor makes against capital postpones the day of permanent adjustment. Eyery speech that capital makes against pones the day of perman ment. When capital malig is the eve cursing the hand labor postsn t adjustas labor, it When labor maligns capital, it is the hand curse observed, ing the eye. As far as I hm the vast majority of capitalists are successful laborers. If thej capitalists would draw their glove, you would see the broken finger nail, the scar of an old blister, the stiffened finger joint. The great publishers of the country for the most part were bookbinders or typesetters on small pay. The great carriage manufacturers for the most part sandpapered wagon bodies in wheelwright shops. While, on the other hand, in aH our large manufacturing establishments you will find men working on wages who onee employed 100 or ' 500 hands. The distance between capithl and labor is not {Threat gulf over which is swung a Niagara suspension bridge. It is only a step, and the capitalists are crossing over to become laborers, and the laborers are crossing over to become capitalists. Would God they ijnight shake hands while they cross, hand, laborers are the hig capitalists. Where are t ments? In banks? No, roads? No. Their nerve, their muscle, their bone, their mechanical skill, their physical health, are magnificent capital. He who has two eyes, two ears, two feet, two hands, ten [fingers, has machinery that puts into hothingness carpet and screw and cotton factory and all the other implements on the planet. The capitalists were laborers, the laborers were capitalists. The sooner we understand that the better. Again, there is to come relief to the laboring classes of this country through the other est style of eir- investIni the rail

cooperative associations. I am not at this moment speaking of trades unions, but of that plan by which "laborers put their surplus together and become their own capitalists. Instead lof being dependent upon the beck of this capitalist or that capitalist, they manage their own affairs. In England there are 813 cooperative and Wales associations. They have 340,000 members. They have a capital of $18,000,000, or what corresponds to our dollars, and they do a business annually of $63,000,000. Thomas Brassey, one of the foremost men in the British parliament, on the subject says: “Cooperation is the one and the only relief for the laboring populations. This is the path,” he says, “by which they are to come up from the hand to the mouth style of living to reap the rewards and the honors, of our advanced civilization." Lord Derby and John Stuart Mill, who gave half their lives to the study of the ia't>or question, believed in cooperative institutions. The cooperative institution formed in Troy, N. Y., stood long enough to illustrate the fact that great good might

come at such an institution it ;ii i. were lightly carried on and mightily developed. “Bu t,” says some one, “haven "t. these institutions sometimes been a fai lure?” Yes. iEvery great movement has lieen a failure at some time. Application of the steam power a failure, electro -telegraphy a failure, railroading a :f iiilure, but now the chief successes cf the world.. “But,” says some one, “why talk of surplus being put by laborers into cooperative assooiations, when the vast multitude of toilers in this country are struggling for their daily bread and have ao surplus?” I reply: Put into my hand the money spent by he laboring classes of America for ru m and tobacco, and I will establish coop* rative associations in ail parts of tin land, some of them mightier than any financial institutions of the country We spend in this country over $100,100,005 every year for tobacco. We sper d over $1,500,000,000 directly or indirec: :ly for rum. The laboring classes spem*i their share of this money. Now, suppose the laboring man who has been expanding his money in those directions should just add up how much be has ex-tended during these past years; and then suppose vhat that money was put into a cooperative association and then suppose he should have all his friends in-toil, who had made the same kind of expenditure, do the same thing, apd that should be added up and put into a cooperative association. And then take all that money expended for overdress and overstyle and overliving on the part of toiling people in order that they may appear as well as persons who have more income—gather that ail up, and you could have cooperative a; sociations all over this land. I am not saying qpytbhw: now about trades unions. You want to know what I think of trades unipns. I think they are most beneficial in some directions, and they have a specific object and in this day, when there are vast monopolies—a thousand monopolies concentrating the wealth of the people into the possession- of a few men, unless the laboring men of this country ai u all countries band together they will go under. There is a lawful use of a trade union, but then there is an unlawful use of a trade union. 'If it meaps sympathy in time of sickness, if ^t means finding work for people when they are out of work, if it means the improvement of the financial, the moral or the ■eligious condition of the laboring classes, that is dll right. Do not artists band together in an art union ? Do not singers band together in Handel anti Haydn societies? Do not newspaper men band together in press clubs? Do hot ministers of religion band together in conferences and associations? There is not in all the land a city where clergymen do not come together, many of

xnem once a ■week, to talk over affairs. For these reasons you should not blame labor guilds. When they are doing their legitimate work, they are most admirable, but when they eome around with drum and life end flag and dsive people oft' from their toil, from their scaffoldings, from their factorid^ then they are nihilistic, then they are communistic, then they ire barbaric, then they are a curse. If' a man wants to stop work, let him stop work, but he cannot stop me f rom. work. But now suppose that all the laboring classes banded together for beneficient purposes in co-opera: ive association under whatever name they put their means together. Suppose they take the money that they waste in rum and tobacco and use it for the elevation of their families, for the education of th|eir children, for their moral, intellectual and religious improvement, what a difip ferent state of things we would have in this country and they would have in Great Britain! Do you not realize the fact that men work better without stimulant? You say, “Will you deny the laboring men this help which they get from strong drink, borne down as they are with many anxieties and exhausting work ?“ I would deny them nothing that is good for them. I would deny them strong drink, if I had the power, because it is damaging to them. Mv father $aid: “I became a temperance man in early life because I found that in the harvest field, while I was naturallywjaker tham the other men, I could hold out longer than any of them. They took stimulant and I took none.” I know a gentleiunn very well who has over 1,000 hands in his employ. I said to him some years ago when there was great trouble in the labor market: “How are you getting on with your men?” “Oh,” he said. “I have no trouble.” “Why,” I said, “have not you had any strikes?" “Oh, no,” he said. “I never had any trouble.” “What plan do you pursue?” He said: “I will tell you. All my men know every year just how matters stand. Every little while 1 call them together and say: ‘Now, boys, last year I nade so much; this year I made less; so you see I cannot pay as much as I did last year. Now, I want to know wh it you think I ought

to have as a percentage out of this establishment and what wages I ought to give you. You know I put all my energy in this busiress, put all my fortune in it and risked everything. What do you really think I ought to have and you ought to have?* By the time we come out of that consultation we are unanimous. There never has been an exception. When we prospengntve all prosper together; when we suffer, we all suffer together and my men would die for me.” Now let all employers be frank with their employes. Take them into your confidence. Let them know just how matters stand. There is an immense amount of common sense in the world. It is always safe to appeal to it. s. I remark, again, great relief will come to the labcring classes of this country through 1 ae religious rectification of it. Labcr is honored and rewarded in proportion as a community is Christianized. Why is it that our smallest coin in i i,is country is a pen*

=rr :=1=s==sst ny, while in China it taies a half dozen pieces of coin or r dos u to make one of our pennies in 'hii^e so the Chinese carry the cash, as they call it, like & string of beads around the neck? We never want to pay than a penny for anything in this country. They mnst pay that which Is worth only the sixth part or the twelfth part of a pen* ny. Heathenism and iniquity and infidelity depress everything. The Gospel of Jesus Christ elevates everything. How do I account for this? I account for it with the plainest philosophy. The religion of Jesus Christ is a demoaratic religion. It t<dis the employer that he is a brother to all the operatives in the establishment—made by the same God, to lie in the same dust and to be saved by the same supreme mercy. It does not make the slightest difference how much money you have, you cannot buy your way into the kingdom of Heaven. If you have the grace of God in your heart you will enter Heaven. So you see it is a democratic religion. Saturate our populations with this gospel, and labor will be respectful, labor will be rewarded, labor1 will be honored, capital will be Chris-, tian in all its behavior, and there will be higher tides o£ ij^it set in. Let me say a word to all capitalists? Be your own executors. Make investments for eternity. Do not be like some of those capitalists; I know who walk around among their employes with a supercilious air or drive up to the factory in a manner which seems to indicate they are theTSqtoerat of the universe, ^rith the sub and moon in their vest pockets, chieflyanxious when they go among laboring men not to be touched by the greasy or smirched hand and have their broadcloth injured. Be a Christian employer. Remember those who are under you? charge are bone of, your bone and flesh of your flesh, that Jesus Christ died far them and that they are immortal. Divide up your estates, or portion^ of them, for tb#' relief of the work! before you leave it. Do not get out of the world like that man who died York leaving in his will $40,000,000, yet giving how much for the chutyb of God, how much for the alleviatioi^idr human suffering? He gave some money a littfe while before he died. That was well, but in all this will of $40,000,000 bow much? One mHlion? No. Five hundred thousand? No. One hundred dollars? No. Two cents? No. One cent? No. These great cities groaning in anguish, nations crying out for the bread of everlasting life. A man in a will giving $40,000,000 and not cent to God! It la a disgrace to our civilization. Or, as illustrated in a letter which I have concerning a man t*bo departed this life leaving between $5,000,000 ‘and $3,000,000. Not one dollar was left, this writer

says, to comtort the aged workmen and workwomen, rot one dollar to elevate and instruct the hundreds of pale children who §§|ped tleir childish growth in the heat and clamor of his factory. Is it strange that the curse of the children of toil follows such ingratitude? How well could one of hia many millions have been disbursed for the present and jibe future benefit of those whose hands had woven literally the fabric of the.dead man’s princely fortune. O capitalists of the United States, be yoof£pwn executors! Be a George Peabody, if need be, on a small scale. God has made you a steward. Discharge your responsibility. My word is to aU laboring men in this country: I cpbjgi ululate you at your brightening prospects. I congratulate you on the fact that you are getting, your representatives at Albany, at Harrisburg and at Wash-, ington, I have >only to mention such a man of the past as Henyy Wilson, the shoemaker; as Andrew Johnson, the tailor;. asSAbraham Lincoln, the boatman. Thgv: living illustrations easily occur t«|you. This will go on until you have representatives at all the headquarters, dbc you will have full justice. Mark that,, I congratulate you also at the opportunities for your children. I congratulate you that you have to work and that when you are dead your children will have to work. I eongratulate you also on your opportunities for information, Plato paid $1,300 for two hooks. Jerome ruined himself financially by buying one volume of “Origen.” What vast opportunities for intelligence for you and your children! A workingman goes along by the show window of some great publishing house, and he sees a book that costs five dollars,-^He says: “I wish I could have that information. I wish I could raise five dollars for that costly and beautiful book.” A few months pass on, and he gets the value of that book cents in a pamphlet. There never was such a day for the workingmen of America as this day and the day that is coining.

1 also congratulate you because your work is only prefatory aud introductory. You wattt the grace of Jesus Christ, the Carpenter of Nazareth. He toiled Himself, a?id He knows how to sympathize with ail who toil. Get His grace in your heart, and you can sing on the scaffolding amid the storm, in the shop shoving the plane, in the mine plunging the crowbar, on shipboard climbing the ratlines. He will make the drops of sweat on your brow glite tering pearls par the eternal coronet. ' Are you tired ? He will rest you. Are you sick? He will give you help. Am you cold? He will wrap you in the mantle of His love. Who are they before the throne? “Ah,” you say, “their hands were never calloused with toil!” Yes, they were. You say: “Their feet I were never blistered with the long jouf* / ney." Yes, they were, but Christ raised/ them to that high eminence. Who am these? “These are they that came out of great tribulation and had their robes washed and made w|rtte in the blood of the Lamb." Thatlor every ChristiSnNworkmgman and: for every Christian working woman will be the beginning of eternal holiday, j ' . C1 1 1 1 - • rifp?! Hash afford*.us an example of an end without means.—Chicago Daily News*