Pike County Democrat, Volume 31, Number 4, Petersburg, Pike County, 1 June 1900 — Page 7

WINE laurels to lay o'er the Blue and the Gray, spread wreaths where our heroes rest; Let the song of the North.echo back from the South for the love that Is truest and best! Twin wreaths for the tombs of our Grant and our Lee, one anthem for Jackson And Meade. And the flag above you Is the banner for me—one people In name and In deed 1 Clasp hands o'er the graves where our laureled ones lie—clasp hands o’er the Gray and the Blue; £ To-day we are brothers end bound by a tie that the years shall but serve to renew: By the side of the Northman who peacefully sleeps where tropical odors are shed A son of the 8outh his companionship keeps—one flag o'er the two heroes spread. Weave tokens of love for the heroes; In blue; weave wreaths for the heroes in gray; Clasp brotherly hands o'er the graves that are new—tor the love that Is ours today: A trinity given to bless, to unite—three glorious records to keep. And a kinship that never a grievance shall sever renewed where the brave are asleep! ^Spread flowers to-day o’er the Blue and the « Gray—spread wreaths where our he- ? roes rest: -• | |Let the song of the North echo back from t the South for the love that is truest ; and best! Twine wreaths for the tombs of our Grant | and our Lee. one hymn for your father and mine! O the flag you adore is the banner for me and its folds our dead brothers entwine. ^ —S. E. Kiser. In Chicago Tlmes-Herald. ERE’S the flag, Polly; ain’t it a beauty?” “Lovely! Grandpa’ll be dec’rated splendid! My rosebush has two roses and three bude.” “You ain’t goin’ to pick the buds?” “Pidn’t grandpa die for our country? Didh’t we live, till mother died, on his

writing, to just tell what you've got to say as short as yon can.** "Let's see," and Jack printed rather crookedly, but dearly: > ?. *. : JOHN DOYLE : Wounded at Bull ran : • s : DleD : : , : : : at : : * i ‘ : 42 Charles Street : "Do yon remember when he died?" Jack asked, glad to rest awhile, but delighted with his progress. “Why, I wasn't born. Jack! But can't we say his loving grandchildren have—have—fixed this to his memory ?’’ "Why, Pollyl" said Jack, admiringly. "That’s real tomb-stony! That's good enough for the monnyment. Let's see;" apd Jack sat with pencil poised, then, slowly and laboriously printed—Polly’s bright eyes watching eagerly: •.*******.• : This Is writ by : : Polly and Jack Kerr : : In memory of : : Grand Pa : ‘ "Oh. Jack! it’s just lovely! And—oh —oh—I’ve got something!” and Polly, her bright facegrowing sweetly solemn, stepped to the old bureau and opened her most precious possession — an old box which held htr peculiar treasures. "Here's four of mother’s hairpins," she said, solemnly. “I’ve saved ’em, but they’ll be just the thing .to fasten down the headstone—better than bits of wood." « The children could hardly sleep from excitement. Bright and early they were about, stopping a moment to gaze rapturously on "the headstone,” and to water the precious rosebush, which any llorist would have admired, so perfect were the buds and roses. Then Jack started out to black boots and attend to one or two furnaces, while Polly washed dishes and tidied rooms for three different families, receiving five cents from each. At noon they were ready to start, the roses carefully wrapped within the headstone, lest the sun wilt them, the flags carried by Polly. It was a long, long walk to Evergreens; but the children’s rent yvas due in two days, and they darecTnjbt spend money on car fare. On thjey trudged, the thought of the honor to be done to grandpa keeping Polly’s tired feet going. But before they had accomplished a quarter of the distance Jack caught sight of a great ex

DECORATING GRANDPA’S GRAVE.

pension? 1 think a whole bushel of buds wouldn’t be too much!” Jack was glad Polly did not know about the ten-cent flag he could have got; he had thought five cents enough to spare out of their scanty earnings, when making the purchase; but after that speech he felt small. What if he were but a bootblack, earning a most precarious living, and Polly making only an odd dime n&w and then by scrubbing a floor or tending children for the neighbors ? Jack wished he had dobe more for his soldier-grandfather! But a thought struck him. “Oh, Polly! I’ll tell you what I’ll do.” . ■ 1 “For to-morrow?” “Yesl You know it’ll be years before we get a monnyment for grandpa, for we must get an eddication first; and though the flag’ll show' it’s a soldier’s grave, 1 think folks ought to know more. Well, I’ve learned to print real clear, and 1*11 print a real nice headstone, and we’ll fix it down on the grave, and folks’ll see it for that day, anyway.” , “That’s splendid; yon do it, and I’ll get 6upper.” Jack rushed out for stiff brown paper and ink, and the kind shopkeeper, who knew the children, learning what he intended to do, gave him two large sheets of manilla paper and showed him how to use the “grease crayon,” thereby saving the boy from innumerable spatters of ink. Jack purchased the ten-cent flag on the spot and returned with his prize. “We can eat* dry bread awhile,” he said, as his sist er looked doubtfully at the flag; “ihat’a my buds!” Planning to write a headstone was one thing—quite another to do it. “We can’t say 4 ’rected,’ for it’s goin’ to be staked down; how would you begin, Polly?” “My teacher says” (Polly’s teacher was her unfailing standard) “if you’re

press cart coming up t*»e bill. “Hold on, there’s a fellow 1 know. He’ll take us in—he’s first-class! Mr. B-he called, “can you give us a lift?”! “Certainly,’’ and the good-natured expressman drew up for the children. “Going to Evergreens? Why, 1’na taking a basket of plauts there—I’ll take you right along.” And so, much earlier than they expected, Jack and- Polly had“dec’rated” the old soldier’s grave. The brown paper was carefully pinned down with the long wire hairpins, Polly kissing each one before she used it—how often “mother” half used them to fasten up the long brown hair of which the children were so proud! The flags were placed at the foot, the roses at the head, and the children stood, well satisfied with the results. “Now, let’s go and see some of the other decorations,” said Jack,“and then we’U come back again.” So they wandered lrom place to place. It was the poorest part of B-’s poorest cemetery, yet there were some handsome gravestones, and many carefully kept plots. The children much enjoyed seeing the flowers, but agreed that “our grave” was the best of all. ' “The soldiers have covered every bit of the grave,” said a tall girl, in a disappointed tone. “I like them to remember grandpa, but—there is nothing for us to do, and we have so many flowers.”’ “I have an idea,’’ said Aunt Mary, who always had delightful ideas, if anyone needed cheering. “Let’s drive over to Evergreens; th^re may be some graves there that we can decorate; it is what dear grandpa would wish. You remember he often said: *We officers get the glory, but the privates did the work.’ ’* “That’s a splendid plan; we’ll start at once.” It was a long drive, through miserable streets: but May and her aunt

were used to inch neighborhood* m their visits of charity. As soon as they entered Evergreens each watched for some soldier’s grave. “Oh, aunty, there’s one! 1 see a flag! Two of them! John, John! Stop! What a queer thing! What Is It?” and Mary knelt by the children’s “headstone.” “Aunty, Aunty! the flowers—quickly!” said the impulsive girl, her eyes overflowings’ “Oh. if I could only find Polly and Jack Kerr!** Aunt Mary came with lilies and heliotrope, hyacinths and geraniums —Mary would not have one other rose beside the lovely ones the children had laid there. Smilax was carefully wreathed about “the headstone," and then Mary rose, only half satisfied. “ ’Forty-two Charles street’—I think we might call there, aunty." “Not to-day. dear, we are too lata already. We must hurry home." “I’m afraid we’ve lost the way." “No, thtre’s the big cross—grandpa is just near there, i always know our grave by that. But 1 don't remember any other grave that was dec’rat ed. Polly!" Jack could say no more, nnd. Polly catching sight of the wreath of flowers and smilax frame at the same moment, the children knelt, speechless with amazement. “Do you think it was angels?" asked Polly, in an awe-struck voice. “No,” said Jack, sturdily; “it was this headstone that did it. Polly! Somebody read that!’’ That was the proudest moment of Jack’s life. Polly nodded her head, acquiescently, still too awe-struck for words. “And by next year we must have < real one!” “But the eddication!” “We’ll do it all." said the boy, with a new confidence in his powers. "Now let’s take a few of these home to remember the day by.” They took a bit of heliotrope, a hyacinth and spray of smilax, and walked, with no sense of weariness, so exalted were they by what they had found, back to the rooms which had been grandpa's and mother’s, one of which .they had managed to keep b3’ toil almost incredible in such mere children.

The next day seemed dull and prosy to Polly, as days do to all of us after unwonted excitement. The little girl had just settled down to study her lessons for the night school Jack and she attended, when there came a knock at the door. Polly opened it and was confronted by two ladies, one tall and slim, the other “fat and comfortable,” as Polly told Jack. “There are our flowers.” exclaimed May, who had given her aunt no rest till she took her to 42 Charles street, “so you must be Polly Kerr.” “Yes, ma’am.” said Polly, much surprised. This was the first of many visits May made to the neat little room, j The general’s granddaughter be- j friended the old soldier’s grandchildren. and. with her help and counsel. Jack and Polly have “a real headstone” and—an education!—Frances Harris, in N. Y. Independent. Memor|al. A Nation’s rride, a Nation’s fame, A Nation’s battle-glory; Aye, these have held an honored name In lyric, song aind story. But more than each and more than all A-llght with heavenly splendor The tributes o’er her deal! that fall. 1 nelr requiems low an* tender. A Nation’s wealth, a Nation’s power. Her place among the nations; Aye. these may win her for an hour A waiting world's oblations. But fadeless and forever fair The record God is keeping. Of Love that lays its tribute where Her soldier sons are sleeping. —Lalia Mitchell, in Good Housekeeping. Ob Beautiful May Mornings. On beautiful May mornings I often watch and wait Where lilies of the valley grow beside the garden gate; For when the white flowers open la fragrance and In grace. A lovely garland I shall make for my soldier's resting place. When I lay the wreath upon his grave on Decoration day, I shall dream of the bright May morning when the soldiers marched away, When to all they loved so dearly they said a sad good-by. And think how grand a thing it was for their native land to die. —Mary F. Butts, In Youth’s Companion. LESSENING RANKS. ’ I

A little band of comrades, year by year* Brins the red, white and blue To plant with care upon those lonely graves; , Each year their ranks grow few. —Mary E. Averin. Decorating Soldiers’ Graves. . The idea of Memorial day originated j among the women of Maryland, who J put flowers on the graves of both fed- ! eral and confederate long before the 1 surrender of Appomattox. The women of other states soon began following the custom. The Best Memorial. The best memorial of our heroic dead is a reincarnation of their virtues.—Boston Congregationalist.

FRUITS OF VICTORY Dr. Talmage Discourses on the Re* wards of Faithful Endeavor. Lesson of Christ In Orereonlsg Obstacles Which Beset His Followers —Smtlstactlos In Completion of Good Work. [Copyright, 1900, by Louis Klopsch.] Washington, May 27. In this discourse Dr. Talmage shows in an unusual way the antagonisms that Christ overcame and finds a balsam for all wounded hearts; text, John 17: 4: “I have finished the work Which Thou gavest Me to do.” There is a profound satisfaction in the completion of anything we have undertaken. We lift the capstone with exultation, while, on the other hand, there is nothing more disappointing than after having toiled in a certain direction to find that our time is wasted ami our investment profitless. Christ came to throw up a highway on which the whole world might, if it chose, mount into Heaven. He did it. The foul-mouthed crew who attempted to tread on Him could not extinguish the sublime satisfaction which He expressed when He said: *T have finished the work which Thou gavest Me to do.” Alexander the Great was wounded, and the doctors could not medicate his wounds, and he seemed to be dying, and in his dream the sick man saw a plant with a peculiar flower, and he dreamed that the plant was put upon his wound and that immediately it was cured.-v And Alexander, waking from his dream, told this to the physician, and the physician wandered out until he found just the kind of plant which the sick man had described, brought it to him, and the wound was healed. Well, the human race has been hurt yfTK the ghastliest of all wounds-^that of sin. It was the business of Christ to bring a balm for that wound—the balm of Divine restoration. In carrying this business to a successful issue the difficulties were stupendous.

In many of our plans we have our friends' to help us; some to draw a sketch of the plan, others to help us in the execution. But Christ fought every inch of His way against bitter hostility and amid circumstances all calculated to depress and defeatIn the first place. His worldly occupation was against Him. I find that He earned His livelihood by the carpenter’s trade—an occupation always *o be highly regarded and respected. But you know as well as I do that in order to succeed in any employment one must give his entire time to it, and I have to declare that the fatigues of carpentry were unfavorable to the execution of a mission which required all mental and physical faculties. Through high, hard, dry, husky, insensate Judaism to hew a way for a new and glorious dispensation was a stupendous N undertaking that was enough to demand all the concentrated energies even of Christ. We have a great many romantic stories about what men with physical toil have accomplished in intellectual departments, but you know that after a man has been toiling all day with adz and saw and hammer, plane and ax, about all he can do ds to rest. A weary body is an unfavorable adjunct to a toiling mind. You, whose life is purely mechanical, if you were called to the upbuilding of a kingdom, or the proclamation of a new code of morals, or the starting of a revolution which should upturn all nations, could get some idea of the incoherence of Christ's occupation with His heavenly mission.

In His father’s shop no more intercourse was necessary than is ordinarily necessary in bargaining with men that have work to do; yet Christ, with hands hard from use of tools of trade, was called forth to become a public speaker, to preach in the face of mobs, while some wept and some shook their fists and some gnashed upon Him with tneir teeth, and many wanted Him out of the way. To address orderly and respectful assemblages is not so easy as it may seem, but it requires more energy and more force and more concentration to address an exasperated mob. The village of Nazaretl$ heard the pounding of His hammer, but all the wide reaches of eternity were to hear the stroke of His spiritual upbuilding. So also His habit of dress and diet were against Him. The mighty men of Christ’s time did not appear in apparel without trinkets and adornments. None of the Caesars would have appeared in citizen’s apparel. Yet here was a man, here was a professed king, who always wore the same coat. Indeed, it was far from shabby, for after He had worn it a long while the gamblers thought it worth rafflihg about, but still it was far from being an imperial robe. It was a coat that any ordinary man might have worn on an ordinary occasion. Neither was there any pretense in His diet. No cupbearer with golden chalice brought Him wine to drink. On the seashore He ate fish, first having broilA it Himself. No one fetched Hun water to drink; but, bending over the well in Samaria, he begged a drink. He sat at only one banquet and that not at all sumptuous, for to relieve tHe awkwardness of the host one of the guests had to prepare wine for the company. Other kings rode in a chariot; He walked. Other kings as they advance have heralds and applauding subjects behind; Christ’s retinue was made up of sunburned fishermen. Other kings sleep under embroidered canopy; this one on a shelterless hill. Ihding but unce, as far as I now re

member, on a colt—and th; ; borrowed/ His poverty was against H m. It requires money to build great enterprises. Men of means are afr I it of a penniless projector, lest a k>a *, |>e demanded. It requires money ,;o print books, to build institutions, tt jay instructors. No wonder the n.sis men of Christ’s time laughed at th * penniless Christ. “Why," they said “ who is to pay for this new religion Who is to charter the ships to cur y the missionaries? Who is to pay t ie salaries of the teachers? Shall the wealthy, established religion? t a discomfited by a penniless Cnris ?* The consequence was that most < f . the people that followed Christ |a>ii nothing to lose. Affluent Joseph 4 f Arimathea buried Christ, but he i diked no social position in doing thaj. It is always safe to bury a dead n a 11. Zaccheus risked no wealth or sc -i ill position in following Christ, bn took a position in a tree to look do .v r, as He passed. Nicodemus, wealth. Xicodemus, risked nothing of social position in following Christ, for he s|u Iked by night to find Him. jj_ All this was against Chrigi. 60 the fact that He was not regulfir-ly graduated was against Him. if a man comes with the diplomas ci colleges and schools and theological seminaries, and he has been tnrou|f! foreign travel, tne world is dispose* I to listen. But here was a maii ytho had graduated at no college, had not in any academy by ordinary means learned the alphabet of the anguage He spoke, and yet He proposed to talk, to instruct in subjects which had confounded the mightiest iptel ,c.:ts. John says: “The Jews marveled, saying;‘How hath this man letters*, having never learned?’ ” We. in otr day, have found out that a man wii h:>ut a diploma may know as mucli is a man with one, and that a colltye cannot transform a sluggard int< u philosopher or a theological aenr .1 ry teach a fool to preach. An t rr pty head after the laying on of hi n is of the presbytery is empty stilt But it shocked all existing prej udices in thcfse olden times for a n a u with no scholastic pretensions ant i-o graduation from a learned institution to set Himself up for a teacher.- It was against Him.

— So also the brevity of :Ii» life was against him. He had a off come to what we call midlife. But very few men do anything before 33 years of age, and yet that was the point at which Christ’s life terminated. The first 15 years you take in nursery and school. Then it will tike, you six years to get into your oc.m potion or profession. That will bri ig you to 21 years. Then it will take you ten years at least to get es aolished in your life work, correcti g the mistakes you have made. If any man at 33 years of age gets filly established in his life work I e is the exception. Yet that is t point at w’hich Christ’s life term; aited. I imagine Christ one hay standing in the streets of Jerusah i i. A mah descended from high lint uj e is standing beside Him and says: ‘My father was a merchant prince He had a castle on the beach in- Giiilee. Who was your father?” Chr;,* answers: “Joseph, the carpenter.” /> man from Athens is standing there unrolling his parchment of graduation tnd says to Christ: “Where did you go to schol?” Christ answers: “I never graduated.” Aha, the idea of such an unheralded young man attempting t;» command the attention of the wo:’ tl! As well some little fishing village on Long Island shore attempt to arraign New York. Yet no sooner doei; He set His foot in the towns or cities of Judea than everything is in com notion. The people go out on a picnic, taking only food enough for a day, yet are so fas

vmaicu wuu vuiimt iuat at uic iimi of starving they follow Him out into the wilderness. A nobleruj a falls down flat before him and says: “My daughter is dead.’* A beggar tries to rub f*.e dimness from his ey< s, and says: “Lord, that my eyes may be opened.” A poor, sick, panting wc man presses through the crowd ant; says: “I must touch the hem o: Qis garment.” Children who love their mothers better than myone else struggle to get into His arms, and to kiss His cheek, and i:o run their fingers through His hell, and for all time putting Jesus sc n love with the little ones that theri is hardly a nursery in Christendom from which He tloes not take one, sai? ing: “I must have them. I will fill Heaven with these, for every cedar 11 at I plant in Heaven I will have 50 wk ite lilies. In the hour when I was a poor'man in Judea they we*e not as! imed of Me, and now that I have coin a to a throne, I do not despise them. Hold it not back, O weeping mothe ! Lay it on my warm heart. Of sucji is the Kingdom of Heaven.” Again I remark there was no organization in His behalf, and that was against Him. When aen propose any great work, they t and together, they write letters of ag reement, they take oaths of fealty, ; nd the more complete the organization the more and complete the success. Here was one who went forth without any organization and alone. If men had a mind to join in His comp my, all right; if they had a mind x >t to join in His company, all well. If they came, they were greeted Wat! i no loud salutation; if they went &v'ay, they were sent with no bitter aru thema. Peter departed, and Chris o turned and looked at him, that \vt s £41. All this was against I lim. Did anyone ever undertake si eh an enterprise amid such inftni e embarrassments and by such mtx es? And yet I am here to say it e^ Ied in a complete triumph. Notwithstanding His worldly occupation, Hi s poverty, His plain face, His unprr t rntious garb— the fact that He was. schoolless, the fact that He was not a rcomuanied bv i ... Wr; :

any visible organization-—notwith-standing all that, in an exhilaration which, shall be prolonged in everlasting chorals He declared: “I have finished the work which Thou gavest Me to do,” 0 See Him victorious over the force* of nature. The sea is & crystal sepulcher. It swallowed the Central America, the president and the Spanish armada as easily as any fly that ever floated on it. The inland lakes are fully as terrible in their wrath. Some of us who have sailed on it know that Lake Galilee, when aroused in a storm, is overwhelming, and yet that sea crouched in His presence and licked His feet. 'He knew all the waves and the wind. When He beckoned, they came. When lie frowned, they fled. The heel of Hie foot made no^fndetsfation on the solidified water. Medical science has wrought great changes in rheumatic limbs and diseased blood, but when the muscles are entirely withered no human power can restore them, and when a linib is once dead it is dead. But here is a paralytic—his hand lifeless, Christ says to him: “Stretch forth thy hand,” and he stretches it forth. In the eye infirmary how many diseases of that delicate organ have been cured? But Jesus says to-one blind, “Be open!” and the light of heaven rushes through gates that have never before been opened. The frost or an ax may kill a tree, but Jesus smites one dead JVith a jvord. Chemistry may go many wonderful things, but what chemist at a wedding when the wine gave out could change a pail of water into a cask of wine? What human voice could command a school of fish? Yet here is a voic^lhat marshals the scjdv tribes, until in a place where had let down the net and pulled it up with no fish in it they let it down again, and the disciples lay held and began to pull, when by reason of the multitude of fish the net broke. Nature is his servant. The flowers—he twisted ^them into his sermons; the winds—they were his lullaby when be slept in the boat; the rain—it hung glitteringly on the thick foliage of the parables; the-'star of Bethlehem—it sang a Christmas carol over his birth; the rocks—they beat a dirge at his

uruiu. uruuiu uia uviuiji u»n me grave! The hinges of the family vault become very riisty because they are never opened except to take another in. There is a knob on the outside of the door of the sepulcher, but noneon the inside. Here comes the conqueror of death. He enters that realm and says: “Daughter of Jairus, sit up!** and she sits up. To Lazarus, “Come forth!” and he came forth. To the widow’s 6on He said: .“Get-up from that bier!” and he goes home with his mother. Then Jesus snatched up the keys of death and hung them to his girdle and cried until all the graveyards of the earth heard Him: “O Deaths I will be thy plague! O Grave, I w ill Tie thy destruction!” My subject also reassures us of the fact that in all our struggles we have a sympathizer. You cannot tell Christ anything new about hardship* I do not think that wide ages of eternity will take the sears from His punctured side and His lacerated temples and His sore hands. You will never have a burden weighing so many pounds as that burden Christ carried up the bloody bill. You will never have any suffering worse than He endured, when with tongue hot and cracked and inflamed aud swollen he moaned: “I thirst.” You will never be surrounded by worse hostility than that which stood around Christ’s feet, foaming, reviling, livid with rage, howling down His prayers, a ad snuffing up the smell of blood. O ye faint hearted, O ye troubled. O ye persecuted one, here is a heart that can sympathize with you! . ' / -'I

Again, and lastly, 1 learn from all that has been said to-day that Christ was awfully in earnest. If it had not been a momentous mission He would have turned back from it disgusted and discouraged. He saw you in a captivity from which He was resolved to extricate you, though it cost Him all sweat, all tears, all blood. He came a qfreat way to save you. He came from Bethlehem here, through the place of skulls, through the charnel house, through banishment. There was not amgng all the ranks of celestials one being who would do as much for you. I lav His crushed heart at your feet to-day- Let it not be told in Heaven that you deliberately put your foot on it. While it will take all the ages of eternity to celebrate Christ’s triumph, I am here to make the startling announcement that because of the rejection of this mission on the part of some of you all that magnificent work of garden and cross and grave is, so far as you are con* cerned, a failure. Helena, the empress, went to the Holy Land to find the cross of Christ. Getting to the Holy Land there were three crosses exeavated, and the question was, which of the crosses was Christ’s cross. They took a dead body, tradition says, and put it upon one of the crosses, and there was no life, and they took the dead body and put it upon another cross, and there was no life. But. tradition says, when the dead body was put up against the third cross, it sprang into life. The dead man lived again. Oh, that the life giving power of the Son of God might dart your dead soul into an eternal life, beginning this day! “Awake, thou that sleepest, and rise from the dead, and Christ shall give thee life!” Live now! And live for ever! Women Doctors In England. The South African war has deprived many English hospitals of the services^ of male doctors, and the women medicos are now reaping their reward. The Match Trust Spreading Oat. The match trust has several factories in Europe and has now absorbed an important establishment ir Smrh America