Pike County Democrat, Volume 30, Number 32, Petersburg, Pike County, 15 December 1899 — Page 9

Democrat M. McC. STOOPS, Editor nod Proprietor. PETERSBURG, : INDIANA. THE WEE ONE. Down at our house Is a wee one, And nobody ever could see one More sweet and complete from the tips of his feet • To the soft fluffy down on the top of his crown; t Oh, the hue'of his eyes Is the blue of the skies, And the guile of his smile like the laugh of ' the day, . Merry and winning and gladsome and gay, While his cheeks are like clover, with pink flushing over. From the break of the dawn to the set of the sun, There is nothing you’ll see that Is fairer than he, Our own little, dear little wee one! Two ‘fat little fists has the wee one, And he always can show you a free one To tear at your hair and to make havoc

there, And a dimple he’ll find you still further lo bind you; And he’s two little teeth lately out from their sheath That will bite with delight on your finger or knuckle, Or make tiny dents on your watch or your buckle, While his feet growing bolder will drum on your shoulder. But who minds the scars when they're every one done =3*; By that mischievous mite, that witching young* wight. Our own little, dear little wee one? Ah, many a friend has the wee one, And he knows if you happen to be one; He’ll gurgle and coo and he’ll frolic with you, Or stretch out his arms with his prettiest charms. And fret when you wake him to get you to take him; He’ll hoax you and coax you and cut up his capers. Toss over your treasures and tumble your papers; You have to attend him, you have to befriend him. But who can help loving that bundle of fun. That giver of joy, that bright little boy, God bless him, our dear little wee one!“ —Martha Burr Banks, In Outlook.. \ How Mr. Jobson Did It. \ IT happened that when Mr. Jobson remained at home one day last week for £he purpose of coddling a cold Me colored household servant remaiiml uvfav. Mrs. Jobson, therefore, answered all of the rings of the front and basement door bells. Mrs. Jobson is an adept in the gentle art of fanning door bell ringers who have a tale to unfold or something to pur- • vey, but her work on this day didn’t meet with Mr. Jobson’s indorsement. "Mr Jobson,” he said to her along toward the close of the afternoon, when she had attended the nineteenth whang at one or other of the bells, "“permit me to inquire if you are always, year yi and year out, such a good thing for the itinerant bunco artists who pull door bells as you have exhibited yourself to-day?” “Well, you know,” explained Mrs. Jobson, “it is really necessary to answer the rings. Supposing a tele

gram — “I have no complaint to make about the mere answering of the rings,” interposed Mr. Jobson, oracularly, “but it’s the gaff—if I may be allowed to relapse into a graphic phrase of slang by my own fireside—it’s the gaff that you permit the whole bunch of bell Jerkers to shoot into you that persuades me to fear for your reason. I observe that you spend about 20 minutes in talking to each and every one of ’em—” “Why, how can you say such a—” “Twenty minutes in conversing with each and every one of them,” went on Mr. Jobson, “and at the wind-up they all win you. hands down, And, surrendering unconditionally, you produce tlj^coin for whatever they have to sell, or, if they are simply grafting for rum money—probably having this ’ house marked, all of ’em—you make good every time. Mrs. Jobson, it is a sorrowful thing for a man to be compelled to reflect that he has a mark for a wife. Now, I’m going to be at home to-morrow, while you’re out plowihg around for another servant, and if you could just employ somebody to take snap shots of the way I’ll give the hot foot to the raft of gong sounders who’ll repair to this household, under "the impression that you’re here, the pictures’ll contain some instruction for you. Mrs. Jobson—that’s all.” Mrs. Jobson set out immediately after breakfast the next morning to visit the employment agencies and*Mr. Jobson planted himself in one of the front window’s of the parlor with his newspaper and cigar. He heard the first prospective bell ringer ascending' the front steps and he poked his head ■out of the window. “Try the next house,” said Mr. Jobson, shortly. “Oh, Til get along there all right, boss,” said the man on the front steps, holding up a contrivance that looked something like a rat trap, “but you’ll be missing something, honest, if you don’t let me show you what a baby of an egg beater this thing I’ve got here is. Works this way, see?” and the man did a bit of rapid demonstrating. “By jing, that does look like a pretty ■effective culinary tool,” said Mr. Jobson, putting on his glasses. ‘“Fellow that invented that must be worth a mint, eh? Let’s see it.” Mr. Jobson reached out for the patent egg beater and toyed with it interestedly for a moment. “How much are the things?” he inquired. “Half a dollar,” said the man on the steps, and Mr. Jobson dug into his silver pocket and produced the half. The man went down the steps with a grin. Four doors above Mr. Jobson’s he sold one of the patent egg beaters for 15 eenta.

Mr. Jobson was reading the tfeerrioa predictions and snorting over them about ten minutes later, when there came an apologetic sort of a ring at the basement door bell. Mr. Jobson stuck his head out of the parlor window and demanded: ‘‘Who’s that?” A rusty looking specimen of a white man shambled into the areaway below. “T’ought I’d ast ye if ye could let me have anny cold vittles, cap,” said the hobo, looking up. “Hain’t had a t’ing to put in me face f’r four days,’ an’—?. “Just wait a minute and I’ll be down,** said Mr. Jobson, pulling in his head and closing the window. "There's a dickens of a lot of tough luck in this world, for a fact,” he mused on his way down the basement stairs. Then he dug into the refrigerator, took out about half a cold baked ha&H a nice piece of cold roast beef that Mrs. Jobson was saving for breakfast hash and a bottle of beer. Then he took a whole loaf of Vienna bread from the bread box. He

opened the basement door and handed the whole armful to the hobo, without apparently noticing that the latter’s breath smelt like a copper-coiled still. The hobo sized Mr. Jobson up out of the tail of his eye, and departed with a grin. Mr. Jobson resumed his paper and cigar at the parlor window. He was so immersed in his reading that he didn’t hear the next man ascending the front steps, and the clang of the front bell aroused him. The bell ringer was within the vestibule, and &o Mr. Jobson went to the front door. “Want a nice feather duster to-day, boss?” asked a man with three or Jour dozen of the dusters strung all over him, holding one of them up. “Only got a few left, and want to get out of town to-day, so I’m almost givin’ ’em away. How's this one for a dollar?” “X-no,” replied Mr. Jobson, “I believe my wife’s pretty well provided with—” “This one for 75 cents is dirt cheap, cap,” said the man in the vestibule, and Mr. Jobson took it and whisked it a bit. “Oh, well, I guess a house can’t flbave too many such things,” he said, after a pause, and he dug up the 75 cents. Then he went back to his seat in the parlor, only to be jolted a few' moments later by another ring at the basement bell. He found a shrewd-eyed youth who was selling eggs for ’nteen cents a dozen— “fresh-laid, boss, ’n right from the country, an' they’re 30 a dozen in the stores” —and Mr. Jobspn bought four dozen. Seven-eighths of them were subsequently discovered by Mrs. J’bbson to be passe to the point of usefulness. Ten minutes later Mr. Jobson looked up from his paper and saw a man loaded down with cheap framed water colors on the front steps. “Nothing doing,” said Mr. Jobson, i hoisting the window. “Got too darned j many pictures now.” The man held up a gorgeous tropical ! •view. “Last Philippine scene I’ve got, sir,” he said, persuasively, to Mr. Jobson. “Sold one just like it down the street for $3.50, but you can have this for two dollars.” “Pretty nice representation of a ‘ palm-lined beach at that,” mused Mr, !

"WANT A NICE FEATHER DUSTER?**

Jobson, stroking his chin. “Looks warm and balmy to have in the, house in cold weather.” And he took it. When Mrs. Jobson came home she found Mr. Jobson with a smooth-look* ing man in the dining-room. The table was littered with sample copies of “The Beauties of the Yellowstone and the Yosemite,” in 98 numbers, at a half dollar per number, one delivered each week. Mr. Jobson closed with the agent and paid for the first six numbers. “An agent for the same series of views was here one day last week,” said Mrs. Jobson to the man as the latter shoved the three dollars into his pocket. “Agent for the same series here last week, eh?” said Mr. Jobson to her after the man had gone. “I suppose you think that hooks me? Well, it doesn’t, Mrs. Jobson. It simply show’s that you don’t know a good thing when you see it, and that whatever artistic perception you may ever have had is badly blunted. And these views don’t comprise the only bargain I’ve picked up this morning, either. If I had the opportunities that you have to pick up useful and necessary articles without moving from my own door step at about one-eighth what the daylight robbers in the stores charge for ’em, we’d be a heap more on velvet, Mrs. Jobson, than we are under your money-burning regime.”—Washington Star. Free Evening Schools la London. Last year the London school board began the experiment of free admission to the evening schools. The result, now officially made known, strikingly confirms the wisdom of the step, for there was a vast increase in schools and scholars, the former numbering 321 and the latter 109.00ft. In other words, tfei roll of pupils nearly doubled.

ON THE MESSAGE. * Postment of Demoeratle Joorttb on the President** Paper to Congress. It ought to be plain to every reader of the message that the people cannot hope for anything but increase upon increase of expenditure in aid of all sorts of projects, chiefly private, so long as the party of which Mr. McKinley is the chosen head remains in power.—Chicago Chronicle. It is a soothing document, with no irritating touch upon any sore subject of political controversy—precisely what might have been "expected from President McKinley the year before the presidential election. The irritation will come when congress shall undertake the necessary task of forcing the hand of the executive.—Philadel

pma Record. In the 40,000 words, more or less, which the president unloaded yesterday upon a helpless congress, there it not one clear-cut, inspiring thought. The message has some good points and some bad, like any average report of a bureau clerk. The president’s views on the Philippines are as vague as his ideas about Cuba. His wisdom consists in passing responsibility along.—N. Y. Journal. As to the trusts, the president is sufficiently frank and direct. That “whatever power congress possesses over this most important subject should be promptly ascertained and asserted.” The Post suggests that as a beginning congress might deal with a few of the worst culprits in an effectual manner by making a reduction in the altitude of the tariff schedules, under the shelter of which they are operating.— Washington Post (Ind.). With the exception of half a dozen sentences there is nothing in it that conveys any new information or any aew views of the president’s policy. It has all been announced or foreshadowed. It puts nothing in a very striking way. It is filled with platitudes and ambiguous phrases, with high-sound-ing declarations that mean nothing.— Indianapolis Sentinel. The president has some pretty bold words to say about the trusts. Let us hope they are sincere and not merely a sop thrown to the powerful antitrust sentiment among the people. How much of sincerity there is in Mr. McKinley’s utterances will be shown by the attitude toward the trusts of the administration leaders in congress.— Wheeling Register. The president alludes to the Filip- ! inosas rebels, thus intimating that they have been citizens of the United States. A man cannot well be a rebel or traitor to a government to which he has never owed or acknowledged' allegiance. The president apparently considers allegiance a purchasable commodity, worth about two dollars per head.— Grand Rapids Democrat. Several things that the people would like to have known, as they are the government, with the president as their executive representative, are not hinted at. There is nothing as to the rumored alliances that are agitating the world, nothing about the plans for keeping the Chinese door open, nothing by the way of related facts that was not before known.—Detroit Free Press. "When he says that all of the amendments to the rules promulgated by him last May had “for their main object a more efficient and satisfactory administration of the system of appointments established by the civil service law,” he makes a statement widely at variance with the facts. The whole world knows that he surrendered to the spoilsmen on that occasion. — Buffalo Cour

ier. In two words the president’s programme is extravagance and empire. He perfunctorily reminds congress of its “responsibilities;” so would we. It is to congress that we must now turn for defense against executive usurpation. The president’s message is in the main a long record of change of national policy, wrought so far on his own initiative.—N. Y. Evening Post. And what is his recommendation as to trusts? Simply and solely that congress shall , give the subject “studied deliberation” “resulting in wise and judicious action.” It is a lame and impotent conclusion. It would be gross flattery to call it a statement of policy or of principle. It is in effect a confession of mental vacuity as to a matter of political discussion.—N. Y. Times. In his treatment of the broad question of a Philippine policy the president slides easily from unctuous expressions of benevoluence to blows with the iron heel. The Filipinos are “insurgents,” “rebels,” and they must be crushed. Mr. McKinley does not see that these brown men ax*e fighting for the same right for which our fathers of the American republic fought a century and' a quarter ago.—Boston Post. The message is not a frank, unequivocal declaration for imperialism, but a verbose and labored effort to conceal the real purpose to drag the American republic away from its early ideals, and, with the glamour of expansion and high-sounding phrases about the obligations thrust upon us by destiny, to blind a liberty-loving people to the real character of the policy which it is proposed to enforce.—Louisville Dispatch. Mr. McKinley practically says to congress: “The Philippines are annexed—you can govern them when I take my military hand off the desolation I have made and called peace.” The president’s message is simply a notification to this effect.—N. Y. World. President McKinle’y message to congress is proof that imperialism haa come to stay as long as the republican party remains in power; our newly acquired territories are to be held under military government, their peoples not being permitted to take part in the governments by which they arc controlled.—St. Louis ihspublic.

A FOEGIVING SPIEIT, Dr. Talmage Placates the World’s Revenges. Be Recommends M»re of tlie Saccharine and Lean of the Soar la Haman Dispositions—Forglveaeaa Oefore Snndonn. [Copyright. 1S99, by Louis Kiopsch.) Washington. Dec. 10. In this discourse Dr. Talmage placates the world’s revenges and recommends more of the saccharine and less of the sour in human dispositions; text, Ephesians, 4:26: “Let not the sun go down upon your wrath.” What a pillow, embroidered of all colors, hath the dying day! The cradle of clouds from which the sun rises is beautiful enough, but it is surpassed by the many colored mausoleum in whiah at evening it is buried. Sunset among the mountains! It almost takes one’s breath away to recal the scene. The long shadows over the plain make the glory of the departing light on the tiptop crags and struck aslant through the foliage the more conspicuous. Saffron and gold, purple and crimson commingled. All the castles of cloud in conflagration. Burning Moscows on the sky. Banging gardens of roses at their deepest blush. Banners of vapor, red as if from carnage, in the battle of the elements. The hunter among the Adirondacks and the Swiss villager among the Alps know what is a sunset among the mountains. After a storm at sea the rolling grandeur into which the sun goes down to bathe at nightfall is something to make weird and splendid dreams out of for a lifetime. Alexander Smith iu

his poem compares the sunset to the barren beach of hell,” but this wonderful spectacle of nature makes me think of the burnished wall of Heaven. Paul in his prison, writing my text, remembers some of the gorgeous sunsets among the mountains of Asia Minor and how he had often seen the towers of Damascus blaze at the close of the oriental days, and he flashes out that memory in the text when he says: “Let not the sun go down upon your wrath.” Sublime, all suggestive duty for people then and people now! Forgiveness before sundown! He who never feels the throb of indignation is imbecile. He who can walk among the injustices of the world inflicted upon himself and others without flush of cheek, or flash of eye, or agitation of nature, is either In sympathy with wrong or semi-idiotic. When Ananias, the high priest, ordered the constables of the courtroom to smite Paul on the mouth, Paul fired up and said: “God shall smite thee, thou whited wall!” In the sentence before my text Paul commands the Ephesians: “Pe ye angry and sin not.” It all depends on what you are mad at and how long the feeling lasts whether anger is right or wrong. Life is full of ovasperations. Saul after David.Succoth after Gideon, Korah after Moses, the Pasquins after Augustus, the Pharisees after Christ, and everyone has had his pursuers, and we are swindled o** belied or misrepresented or persecuted or in some way wronged, and the danger is that healthful indignation shall become baleful spite and that our feelings settle down into a prolonged outpouring of temper displeasing to God and ruinous to ourselves, and hence the important injunction of the text: “Let not t^e sun go down upon your wrath.” Why that limitation to one’s anger? Why that period of flaming vapor set to punctuate a flaming disposition? What has the sunset to do with one’s resentful emotions? Was it-a haphazard sentiment written by Paul without special significance? No, no; I think of five reasons why we should not let the sun set before our temper. First, because 12 hours is long enough to be cross about any wrong inflicted upon us. Nothing is so exhausting to physical health or mental faculty as a protracted indulgence of ill humor. It racks the nervous system. It hurts the digestion. It heats the blood an brain and heart until the whole body is first overheated and then depressed. Besides that, it sours the disposition, turns one aside from his legitimate work, expends energies that ought to be better employed and does us more harm than it does our antagonist. Paul gives us a good, wide allowance of time for legitimate denunciation, from six o’clock to six o’clock, but says: “Stop there!” Watch the descending orb of day, and when it reaches the horizon take a reef in your disposition. Unloose your col

lar and cool off. Change the subject to something delightfully pleasant. Unroll your tight fist and shake hands with some one. Bank up the fires at the curfew bell. Drive the growling dog of enmity back to its kennel. The hours of this morning will pass by, and the afternoon will arrive, and the sun will begin to set, and. I beg you, on its brazing hearth throw all your feuds, invectives and satires. Other things being equal, the man who preserves good temper will come out ahead. An old writer says that the celebrated John Henderson, of Bristol, England, was at a dining party where political excitement ran high and the debate got angry, and while Henderson was speaking his opponent, unable to answer his argument, dashed a glass of wine in bis face, when the speaker deliberately wiped the liquid from his face and said: “This, sir, is a digression. Now, if you please, for the main argument.” While worldly philosophy could help but very few of such equipoise of spirit, the grace of Uod could help any man to such a triumph. “Impossible,” you say. “1 would have either left the table in anger or have knocked the man down.” But 1 have come to believe that nothing is impossible if Hod help. Aye, you will not postpone till sundown forgiveness of enemies if you can

realize that their behavior toward you may be put in the catalogue of the “all things’* that “work together for good to those that love God." 1 have bad multitudes of friends, but I have found in my own experience that God has so arranged it that the greatest opportunities of usefulness that have been opened before me were opened by enemies. So you may harness your antagonists to your best interests and compel them to draw you on to better work and higher character. Suppose, instead of waiting until 32 minutes after four this, evening, when the sun wili set, you transact this glorious work of forgiveness at meridian. Again, we ought not to let the sun go down on our wrath,"'because we will sleep better if we are at peace with everybody. Insomnia is getting to be one of the most prevalent of disorders. How few people retire at ten o’clock at night and sleep clear through to six in the morning! ^To relieve this disorder, all narcotics and sedatives and morphine and choral and bromide of potassium and cocaine and' intoxicants are used, but nothing is more important than a quiet spirit if we would win somnolence. How is a man going to sleep when he to in mind pursuing an enemy? With what nervous twitch he will start out of a dream! That new plan of cornering his foe will keep him wide awake while the clock strikes 11,

12, 1, 2. I give you an unfailing prescription for wakefulness: Spend the evening hours rehearsing your wrongs and the best way of avenging them. Hold a convention of friends on this subject in your parlor or office at eight or nine o’clock. Close the evening by writing a bitter letter expressing your sentiments. Take from the desk or pigeonhole the papers in the case to refresh your mind with your enemy’s meanness. Then lie down and wait for the coming of the day, and it will come before sleep comes, or your sleep will be worried quiescence and, if you take the precaution to lie flat on your back, a frightful nightmare. Why not put a bound to your animosity? Why let your foes come into the sanctities of your dormitory? Why let those slanderers who have already lorn your reputation to pieces or injured your business bend over your midnight pillow and drive from you one of the greatest blessings that God can offersweet, refreshing, all invigorating sleep? r Why not fence out your enemies by the golden bars of the sunset? Why n’ot stand behind the barricade of evening cloud and say to them: "Thus far and no farther.” Many a man and many a woman is having the health of body as well as the health of soul eaten away by the malevolent spirit. I have in time of religious awakening had persons night after night come into the j inquiry room and get no peace of soul. After awhile I have bluntly asked them: “Is there not some one against whom you have a hatred you are not willing to give up?” After a little confusion, they have slightly whispered: "Yes.” Then I have said: “You will never And peace with God as long as you retaiu that virulence.” Again, we ought not to allow the sun to set before forgiveness takes place, because we might not live to nee another day. And what if we should be ushered iuto the presence of our Maker with a grudge upon our soul? The majority of people depart this life in the night. Between 11 o’clock p. m. and three o’clock a. m. there is something in the jitmosphere which relaxes the grip which the body has on the soul, and most people enter the next world through the shadows of this world. Perhaps God may have arranged it that way so as to make the contrast the more glorious. I have seen sunshiny days in this world that must have been al

most like the radiance of Heaven. But as most people leave the earth between sundown and sunrise they*-quit this world at its darkest, and Heaven, always bright, will be the brighter for that contrast. Out of darkness into irradiation. Shall we then leap over the roseate bank of sunset into the favorite hunting ground of disease and death, carrying our animosities with us? YVho would want to confront his Gpd, against whom we have all dona meaner things than anybody has ever done against us, carrying old grudges? How ca'n we expect His forgiveness for the greater when we are not willing to forgive others for the less? Napoleon was encouraged to undertake the crossing of the Alps because Charlemagne had previously crossed them. And all. this rugged path of forgiveness bears the bleeding footsteps of Him who conquered through suffering, and we ought to be willing to follow. On the night of our departure from this life into the next our one plea will have to be for mercy, and it will have to be offered in the presence of Him who has said: “If you forgive not men their trespasses, neither will your Heavenly Father forgive your trespasses.” What a sorry plight if we stand there hating this one and hating that one and wishing that one a damage and wishing some one else a calamity, and we ourselves needing forgiveness for 10,000 obliquities of heart and life. When our last hour comes, we want it to find us all right. Hardly anything affects me so much in the uncovering bf Pompeii as the account of the soldier who, after the city had for many centuries been covered with the ashes and scoriae of Vesuvius, was found standing in his place on guard, hand on spear and heln^f on head. Others fled at the awfuTsubmergement, but the explorer, 1,700 years after, found the body of that brave fellow in right position. And it will be a grand thing if, when our last moment comes, we are found in right position toward (lod, on guard and unaffrighted by the descending ashes from the mountains of death. 1 do not suppose that 1 am any more of a coward than most peaple, but 1 declare to you that 1 would not dare to sleep tonight if there were any being in all the ! earth with whom 1 would not gladly

■hake bands, lest during the night hour* nay spirit dismissed to other realms, I should, because of nay unforgiving spirit, be denied Divine forgiveness. “But.’* says one woman, “there is » horrid creature that has so injured me that rather than make up with her 1 would die first.” Well, sister, you may take your choice, for one or the other it will be—your complete pardon of her or God’s eternal banishment of you. “But,” says some man. “that fellow who cheated me out of those goods or dam- » aged my business credit or started that lie about me in the newspapers by his perfidy broke up my domestic hap» pi ness, forgive him 1 eannot, forgive him I will not.” Jffell, brother, take your choice. You will never be at peace with God till you are at peace with man. Feeling a* you now do, you would not get so near the harbor of Beaten as to see the lightship. Better leave that man with the God who said: “Vengeance la mine, I will repay.” You may say: “I will make him sweat for that jret; 1 will make him squirm; I mean to pursue him to the death,” btit you are damaging yourself more, than you damage him, and you are making Heaven for your soul an impossibility. If he will not be reconciled to you, be reconciled to him. In five or six hours it will be sundown. + The dahlias |||| bloom against the western sky. |$omewhere between this aud that take a shovel and bury the old quarrel at lea& aix feet ! deep. “Let not the sun go down upon ' >Mir wrath.” '>h. it makes one feel splendid to be aide by God’s help to practice unlimited forgiveness. It improves one’s body and soul. My brother, it will make you measure three or four more inches around the chest and improve your respiration so that you can take a deeper and longer breath. It improves the countenance by scattering the gloom and makes you somewhat like God himself. He is omnipotent, and we cannot copy that. He is independent of all the universe, and we cannot copy that. He is creative, and we cannot copy that. He is omnipresent, and* we cannot copy that. But He forgives with a broad sweep air faults, and all neglects, and all insults, and all wrongdoings, and in that way we may copy Him with mighty success. Go harness that sublime action of your soul to the sunset—the hour jvhen the gate of Heaven opens to let the dny.pass into

the eternities, and some of the glories escape this way through the brief opening. We talk about/tij$"Hatfan sunsets and sunset amwh'fhe Appfchuines and sunset amid th^ cordilleras, \ut I will tell you how yoi* may see a grander sunset than anj'nWre lover of nature ever beheld; thajis, by flinging into it all your hatreds and animosities, and. let the horses of fire trample them, and the chariots of fire roll over them, and the spearmen of fire stab them, and the beach of fire consume them, and the billows of fire overwhelm them. Again, we should not let the sun gn- - down on our wrath, because it is of little importance what the world says oi you or does to you when Sou have the affluent God of the sunset as your provider and defender. People talk as though it were a fixed spectacle of nar ture and always the same. But no one ever saw two sunsets alike, and if the world has existed 6,000 years there have been about 2,190,000 sunsets, each of them as distinct from all the other pictures in the gallery of the sky as Titian’s “Last Supper," Rubens’ “Descent From the Cross/| (.Ra phael’s “Transfiguration”and Michael Angelo’s “Last Judgment” are from each other. If that God Is of such infinite resources that he can put on the wail of the sky each evening more than^the Louvre and Luxembourg galleries all in one is my Gpd and your God. sour provider and protector* what is the use of our worrying about any human antagonism? If we are misinterpreted, the God of the many-colored sunset can put the right color on our action. If all the garniture of the western heavens at eventide is but the upholstery oi one of the windows of our future home, what small business for b|||o be chasing enemies! Let not this Sabbath sun go down upon your wrathMohammed, said: “The sword is the key of Heaven and hell.” But, my hearers, in the first day we will find just the opposite of that to be true, and that the sword never unlocks Ijeaven, and that he who heals wounds is greater than he who makes them, and that on the same ring are two kej^^-God’s forgiveness of us and our forgiveness of enemies—and these two keys unlock paradise.

And now I wish for an of yon a beautiful sunset to your earthly existence. With some of you it has been a long day of trouble, and with others of you it will be far from calm. gotten the sun rose at six o’clock, it was the morning of youth, and a fair d&R was prophesied, but by the time the noonday or middle life hpd come and the clock of your earthly existence had struck 12, cloud racks gathered, and tempest bellowed in the traek of&tempest. But as the evening of old age^approaches, 1 pray God the skies may brighten and the clouds be piled up into pillars as of celestial temples to which you go, or move as with mounted cohorts come to take you home. And as you sink out of sight below the horizon, may there be a radiance of Christian: example lingering long after you have gone, and ou the heavens be written in letters of sapphire and on the waters in letters Of opal and on the hills In letters of emerald: “Thy sun shall no more go down, neither shall the moon withdraw itself, for the Lord shall be thine everlasting light, and the days of thy mourning shall be ended,” So shall the sunset of earth become the sunrise of Heaven. a Gordian' Knot. Dasheily—1 understand that he’s veTy well connected. - ' • Flasherly—-Yon betl He’s tied to his wife’s apron strings.—Kansas City fa* dependent, xHH ""