St. Joseph County Independent, Volume 17, Number 28, Walkerton, St. Joseph County, 30 January 1892 — Page 7

ROYAL RANGER RALPH; —— : on : - The Waif of the Western Prairies. BY WELDON J. COBB. CHAPTER XXV-Continued. The Indian prin ess had extinguished the Darrel stepped forward and called her name. She stepped slowly Into view and peered suspi dously into his face. Then she siezed his hand irnpu’s.vely. “The ranger's friend!” sho cried. “Yes. ” “Then you escaped from the Crow, as my father promised?” “I did. Have you heard from the ranger?” “No. But he is alive and on the trail of his enemies ” “How do you know this?” “The mountain hermit says it must bo so, although he has not been able to find him.” “it was he I saw with you a few moments since?” asked Darrel. “Yes How comes the ranger's friend here?” Briefly, Barrel informed her of his adventures sin -e last they met. Sho told him of be ng at the cave when Despard had come to demand Inez Tracey's fortune She had secured the casket of jewels, and had become lost in the hermit s place of abode in the mountains. When she found her way to liberty, amid its intrica ies, the ensuing day, she found that her father’s tribe had gone. “And was the girl Inez a prisoner with them?” asked Darrel anxiously. “ Yes. ” Hie went on to say that she had started after them, when she came across the old hermit Walford. He had lost trace of Langer Ralph, but was himself determined to rescue the daughter of his old friend Tracey. Together they followed the tribe. Two days previous they came up with a wounded warrior of the Modocs. He told them that a portion of Despard’s band had pursued and overtaken the Modocs. A fierce convict had ensued, resulting in the utter defeat of the Indians. The outlaws had wrested a large treasure from bhadow Snake and forced him to fly. “And the girl—lnez—the Modocs took her witli them?” “No ” । “The outlaws rescusd«her?" “Yes.” • Tiu n the campon the mountain- ” “Is theirs. 3 hoy have the girl witii them, and are seeking their old leader, Desj ard ” Darrel Grey became greatly excited at this intelligence “And the hermit?” lie asked. “I traced the out aws her •, and visited the neighborhood of their camp an hour since.” “I on saw Inez?” “I saw the covered wagon in which she is 1 returned to the hermit. He decided to rescue her.” “How?” “By strategy. He will tell mo noth-

going?” L ^^^^^^^neontlaws earnp?” ‘•I must I will aid Walford.” ‘•You ma^ defeat, all his plans ” “No. 1 will act with the utmost can- I t on.” A minut? later he was on his way toward the point in the va'lcy where a I narrow path le 1 to the cliffs abov '. Meami<ie. Wa fort had preceded him 1 a- some distance. The old hermit was * certainly an adept at disguises, for he .presented no familiar resemblance to his natural character. ile reached the cliffs aid looked searehingly around him. Some distance [ away he saw the reflection of a camp- [ fire and made his way toward it at once. ! :As he neared it lie could make out a [ score of figures and a covered wagon. For a moment he paused, engaged in | deep thought, as if to decide on a def- i finite plan of action. Then he placed : the reed he 1 ore in his hand to his lips, i Immediately a wi d, weird strain awoke j the si.ent echoes of the scene. At the camp De-pard and Danton had I [just been welcomed with the most extravagant o h lilt.tins of delight. The entire band started in suspicion and alarm as the strange music reached their hearing. “What is that?” demanded Despard. The others seized their guns and stood on the defensive. Nearer and nearer came the music. Into the open space where the camp was a strange form SnilHcTlly emerged. outlaws stared in the profopnde'st “surprise To all seeming he Amo .de men ted-iTeaturo so engrossed In WiS musiy as, n A'to notice them. It appeared as if wphld walk past them and <n through the woods. A suspic ous look came initio Despard’s face. “Tais means somethin®,” he whispered to Danton. “You think so?” “I do.” “AA ha ?” “Treachery—a spy—a trap. ” “I think not. lie seems to to some crazy woodsman He don't even look at us. ” “Probabiy*mll assumed.” “I’ll find out ” Danton caught the old man by the arm. “Stop,” he ordered. The disguised Walford halted, and stated at him wonderingly. “What do you want?” he asked. “Who are yon?” “The king of the woods.” “Woll, what are you doing hero?” ■‘Getting ready for my show. ” “What show?” Walford tapped the box on his shoulder. “Have you got a show there?” asked Danton. ” “Yes. ” “He’s stark mad,” said Danton to Despard. “I don’t know that.” replied the latter. “See here, stranger; who sent you here?” “No one. ” “You’re a spy.” “Am 1? Nobody ever called me that before.” replied Walford, innocently. “Seo here gent'emcn, ” he called, “lain about to begin the greatest show on earth. Admission free. Gather around and see if the old king of the woods ain't a regular professional.” And executing a caper that seeme 1 to remove all suspicions of his sanity, .Walford flung his hat on the ground and ■face 1 the amused and curious outlaws.

CHAPTER XXVI. the rescue. So fantastic and unreal were the achTnit that Dc spard had evidently abandoned h s suspicions of his being a spy. Like Danton, ho began to believe that their strange visitor was some one of those demented creatures often met with on ths frontier. The hermit had opened his hat and had taken from it several small packages. ' The first thing will be a balloon ascension,” ho said. Ho had produced and lighted a small alcohol lamp, and he allowed the hot air it produced to ascend into a lino rubber object ho had in his hand. “Watch the balloon, gentlemen,” he said, “and you’ll sob it ascend and explode in midaT. ” The bag began to fill, and finally arose in the air. E,very eye was lifted to watch its course, and the hermit prepared fox* his final move in his clever game to delude the- bandits. The balloon arose a few feet. Suddenly it exploded. Simultaneous howls of pain arose from the throng. Every man seomed gone w.ld suddenly. The balloon, as M alford had intended, in exploding had released some cayenne pepper, which had fallen into the eyes of tho gaping bandits. Blinded and in pain, they were for tho most part helpless. Despard and Danton, however, had escaped the general suffering, as they had watched tho herm’t at a little distance. As Walford noticed this, ho flung a package of powder over the lamp. Immediate y a dense vapor spread ovex - the scene. “1 he girl—tho wagon!” cried Despard. “This is all a trick of our enemies. Seo, the xnan has disappeared!” The hermit had certainly left tiio spot where last they had seen him. Despard ( and Danton made a simultaneous rush j for tho wagon At its rear stood tho man they sought. Danton seized him by tho arm and held him firmly. Despard tore aside tho canvas and peered into the vehicle. “The girl is gone!” he cried. , Walford started, fully as much amazed as the bandit-;. “Gone?” echoed Danton, incredulously. “Yes. It was all a plot Who has taken her?” ho demanded of Walford. “Toll me, or I will kill you.” “I do not know. ” “You do—it was some friend of yours.” In his rage, Despard dea’t tho hermit a blow that felled him to the ground insensible. Then he rushed back to his men. By this time they"ha 1 got the । pepper out of their eyes, but wero still ।in deep pain. Hastily, Bedard explained what had occ ;rred. He divided the men into parties, and sent them out in search of the missing Inez. Ho himself and Danton, with several of the men, a so started on ti o quest. They learned later what had really occurred. Darrel Grey had rescued Inez Tracey. De had reached the bandit camp, and while the hermit enga ed th * attention of the outlaws, had hurried her away. Ho went direct to the ravine. The happy Inez did not delay their flight by ■ questioning him Together they readied tho place where White Fawn awaited them. Darrel hast ly explained all that had occ: rred. “We must not remain here, ” said tho Modoc princess “Is it not a safe retreat?” “No.” , tv .. .. -

“♦vuynotz । “We AyilF hfi JUTS 'cd“He will care for bimse’f. Come " Sho led the way rapidly down the ravine. “Look!” she said, after they had pro- [ cecded some distam e “Weare pursued.” They could see hurrying fotms behind them. “We must reach the dills, ” said White i Fawn. She finally found a path h ading from I the valley. It was a toilsom 5 ascent, ; but they finally gained the to> of the | cliff. It proved to be a kind of natural foi tiheation. (hi the other side a stream flowed fifty fe t below. There was no way of going on. They I must, remain whose they were, or retreat : th ■ way they had come. “We are in a trap,” murmured White I Fawn “The o it’aws may not tract us here,” remarked Farre'. They crouched behind some ro ks and waited. White Fawn watched the ravine I elow. It-was just beguning to get light. Fay was breaking. She saw several dusky forms coming up the narrow mountain path. “Weare pursued,” she said. “Let the Ranger s friend prepare for a desperate con ict. ” THE ESCAPE. There was little doubt but that the I outlaws would soon discover the fugi- ' fives. Several of them were coming directly up tl e path the latter had pursued in their flight, and must inevitably come upon Darrel and his companions. The breaking light of day showed a grim determination in the face of the Modoc princess. “You are armed?” she asked of Dbrrel. “No, my revolver was taken away from me b. Despard.” The princess handed him a small revolver. and herself ^dtsed a small rifle she bo e over the ed_e 6f th • natural fortification behind which th >y were concealed. This commanded a view of Die path leading up to the place. . “We must holT LLpm at bay,” said White Fawn determinedly. “They may not find ns ” “Yes; they are coming direetfiyup the path ” There was a brief spell of silence. Through the inti rsticcs of their rocky barricade, the three beleaguered fugitives watdhed the advance of their enemies. Ono party was searching the ravine for them. Des] ard led them. The other divison of the outlaws, headed by Danton, consisted of half a dozen mon, and those were rapidly nearing the crest of the cliff. (rack! The rife in the hands of White Fawn gave forth a sharp report. Its echoes ended with the yell of a wounded bandit fifty feet be ow. Instantly the bandits knew where their enemies were located j They disappeared behind sheltering । rocks as if by magic. “You have revealed our hiding-place to them,” said Darrel. “They would have come upon us, and got still nearer if we had not done so.” replied White Fawn. “Take my rifle and fire if they make any advance.” “Where are you going?” “To see if there is not some means of escape from here. ” The Indian princess crept cautiously [ in the shelter of the rocks toward the [ other edge of the cliff.

Darrel watched the mountain path and ravine closely. He saw Danton retreat cautiously to the valley. Here he joined Despard and his party, and a close consultation was hold. They seemed to be devising some plan to surround and capture the fugitives. Darrel’s observa t'ons were interrupted by the appearance of Wh to Fawn. “Whafc have you disco ered?” he asken. ’ “A means of escape; But it is a perilous one. ” “In what wav’?” “We must lower ourselves from cliff to cliff, to the other side of the valley.” “Then let us not delay.” “Some pne must remain here to keep back the oiitlaWs and give time for the escape. ” Dai.el glance 1 anxiously at Inez, but said, “I*will do that. ” • ‘ Como,” said White Fawn to Inez. The latter c ast a tender 1 ok at her brave lover, and followed the Indian girl. Darrel’s attention was now e itirely centered on tho foes he was to keep at bay. He had confidence in White Fawn, and knew ’that- her long familiarity with frontier life constituted her a safe guardian of tho woman lie loved. Despard and his men, to Darrel’s satisfa tion, did not apparently suspect tho attempt to escape. They appeared instead, to be combining their forces for a general assault oa tho summit of the cliff, where the lone defender was stationed. Several times they started boldly forward up tho torturous mountain path. Darrel's steady fire, however, dismayed them, and drove them to cover again. Each onslaught brought them nearer to the fort <>f rocks, and this fact the young stout noted with some an iety. A glanco behind him showed no sign of his recent comp inions. White Fawn and Inez had disappeared, and he hoped they had found a means of es ape to tho val ey in safety. Meantime it ha 1 begun to rain, and a dim mist began to gather over the ravine It partially shut out tho position of his enemies, anJ he feared would enab e them to make a secant advance to his stronghold. In this his fears wore not groundless, but the climax came in a d fferent manner from what he had apyreh nded Itseemed j that the bandit leader had, a few mo- : meats previous been made aware of tho exact position of affairs A man he had sent to reconnoitT had returned very much excited. “Well, what have yon learned?” asked Despar L “That there's only one person in tho fort up yonder. ” “Then th * girl who escaped?” “I don't know where she is; she ain't in the place there.” Despard looked perplexed. Ho had believed that, whoever was defending the fort, the rescued Inez was also there. “If there is only one person,” he said to Danton, “the girl has been sent a wav, ” “Where?” “Perhaps there is a descent to the other side of the valley.” Danti n started. “Ha! I never thought of that,” he muttered. “And whoever is in the fort is simply holding us at bay to cover tho girl’s escape. ” “A hat shall we do?” “.'onio of us hurry around to that side of tho ravine. ” “We can't do that, Cappiis-^-yoi^tho man wup hiU reported the slate o?af * _ i

— “Because, we’re In a bad fix.” “A bad fix! A A hat do you m an, man?” ‘ “Indians. ” “H hat?” “Yes, Captain; Mo loos. I saw them I i in the valley from over yonder.” Despard lo iked very much concerned, j “Are there many of them?” “Two to one against us.” “SI adow Snakes men ” “They look like it. 1 saw them before ■ the mist came down upon us.” Desi ard and Danton discussed the ■ situation for some time. They finally j decided to continue t’:eir ascent, but in I a line beyond the fort. Their enemy | did not notice their movements, or did ! nut < are to attack them, for their prog- j ress was uninterrupted. They rea lied the eminence, and Despard at once began to investigate th l other side of the cliff. In h s wander Ings he cam; to a p’a e where some twisted grape vines showed signs of a j recent passage from rock to rock. A I bit of cloth torn by a bra mb e from a I dress told him t! at Inez must have lied I th'S way. “We’re on the right trail,” he said to Danton, confidently. “You think the girl has gone this way?” asked the latter. “I am sure of it.” “But there seems no way to reach the j valley.” । “Except by careful climbing from rock to rock.” “Can you go that way in safety?” “The girl seems to have done so.” “Very well; wo can try it.” [to be continued.] They Wear Big Hats. At Anam, an empire occupying the eastern portion of the Indo-Chinese pen n ula, with a population of 15,000,- [ 000, men and women wear their hair in j the same way ami dress alike, says the 1 St. Louis Globe-Demo rat Like the man, the woman wears the turban, a long tunic, wide, loose trousers and a 1 right sash, the ends falling below the knees. The physiognomy is almost the same, as the men arc beardless an I have the hair done up like the women A The only clue to distinguish them is the earrings and finger rings, worn by women only. The tarrings are like [ double shirt studs, and among the lower orders are of colored glass. The wives and daughters of mandarins alone are allowed to wear gold jewelry. The rings are of spir.il wire, fitting tight and standing out to some height. So.ne women of the upper class year also necklaces of strings of gold or j silver beads. The hat of the woman is monumental, i It is like a large oarrel cover, three- [ quarters of a yard in diameter. Six cr [ seven silk cords as thick as a quill are ' fastened on each side, and when worn | [ fall down below the wai t. AA here the ends are fastened to the ! hat on each side is a huge black or I brown silk tassel. Some of these hats ' are arti tical y made of carefully select- I ed palm leave- and lined w th neatly । plaited flag leaves. These are expen- ' [ sive, especially when they have chiseled 1 silver c asps at the ta — i is. Many women fa ten a little round ■ mirr- rin the hat, before which they ar- , ! range their turban when they go to ; i town. The hat i the article most prized ; i by the -tyli h ladica and often co ts Sid , 1 and sls. 1

EIRE IN A HOSPITAL.' I MANY CRIPPLES BURNED TO DEATH. Several Helpless Patients Roasted Before Aid Could Beach Them—Others Killed by Jumping from Windows—Heart rend- * lug Scenes About a Fire Trap. Horror at Indianapolis. One of the most appalling fires in the history of Indianapolis occurred shortly I after midnight the other night. The ; National Surgical Institute, one of the most famous institutions of its character in the United States, burned to the ' ground. The fire started in the office building, and above the offices were the wards for babes and mothers and known I as the ABC departments. Smoke was discovered a few minutes before mid- i night issuing from the advertising-room ' of the building, which is immediately i over the office. The origin is claimed to J have been from the spontaneous com- i bustion of some chemicals which had j been placed in the room. . Circulars and I papers in the room soon were ablaze and . in fifteen minutes the whole lower floor j was enveloped in flames. The attendants barely awakened all . of the patients, and in the halls and 1 supper-rooms pandemonium deigned. I Shriek after shriek went up as the inmates realized their terrible situation. 1 In a few moments thoi'oughly frightened ; faces appeared at each window of the I large building, and lips could be seen I beseeching succor from those below, yet I their voices could not be heard. Prayer after prayer Went up from the unfortunate creatures, already the victims of cruel circumstances, that they might not perish in flames after suffering the most terrible pains from their afflictions. The police and firemen and attendants all worked diligently and in perfect accord, and many were the patients taken from the upper floors by means of . ladders and carried to places of safe- | ty by them. No attempt was made to ; save anything but life. The patients, | both male and female, themselves under i ordinary circumstances unable to barely • get about, assisted most nobly in the I । work of rescue. A view in the halls and I on the stairways before the fire had com- | I municated to the main building furnished j I a weird sight. Inmates wrapped in bed- । clothing crawled and helped themselves ! ' along from one floor and one landing to | . the other. Without waiting for ladders j ito be run up, the desperate inmates ' ■ jumped from the windows or huddled to- I i gether upon the fire escape, but the j | flames cut off this descent at the second I i story and here they threw themselves to ■ I the ground. At least thirty persons i । were injured, some tv ribly. Some of ; I the worst hurt are: I Mr. Gales, of Madison, Ind., fell from - a ladder, with a child in her arms; in- I ternally injured. Kate Elstrang, Indianapolis, fatally burned. Mrs. Thomas, Indianapolis, fatally burned. Fannie Breeden, Memphis, Tenn., badly burned; recovery doubtful. Mary Stearns, Warren, lowa, burned about feet. Clara Morris, address unknown; back injured. Grant Van Hoesen, Althena, N. Y., Chand and ear burned. j, Clarence Mead, Athens, N. Y., leg - -A--A>saoi ■U - JliWIMi A! ' ' A X*

►"Wl.mii n. ?nuacitnrmnmTt,’ n. y., ; iburned. Leora Knowles, Independence, Ind., I back hurt in jumping. AV. AV. Snyder, Troy, Ohio, internally I injured falling from window. AVill Mansfield, Otsego, N. Y., foot hurt [ in jumping. Mrs. John S. Stokes, Danville, HL, ankle sprained. Nellie Mason, Walworth County, Wis., I jumped from third story and is fatally > hurt. Mrs. Lazarus, of Texas, jumped from third-story window and will die. Mrs. G. J. Simpson and child, seriously burned. It. Connor, fell through hole in floor; fatally hurt. May Ballinger, Indianapolis, terribly burn el. ihe scenes about the burning build- I ingwere heartrending in the extreme. ■ Many of the children were attended by : their mothers, who were boarding at the • institute, and these were nearly frantic with fear when they were discovered. I One lady refused to leave the ward till her child had been carried off, and a policeman had to drag her from the room. Her child had been taken out, [ and when she found it in an adjoining block the transition from grief to joy was so sudden that she seemed like one deranged. The building was owned by Drs. Allen and AVilson, and it and the'furnishings [ are estimated by Dr. AVilson to have been worth $2^,000. The furnishings, i including valimble appliances for all kinds of cripples, are a total loss, but the front building was partially saved, i The loss will aggregate $200,000, with insurance of $150,000. It is feared that [ possibly as many as fifteen were suffo- ' eated by the smoke and perished in the I flames. Cardinal Manning. No one can question that a good and I reat man left us when Cardinal Manning died. —New’ York Recorder. The death of Cardinal Manning will be deeply regretted by not only the church which he so earnestly served, but by thousands of Christians of others denominations.—Springfield Register. AVhi'le he was the foremost English Catholic, he was also one of the foremost English publicists, and his death will be almost as keenly felt outside the church as within it.—Providence Telegram. Not even his great colleague. Cardinal Newman,, with his rare intellectual and literary gifts, did so much as Cardinal Manning to dispel the prejudice of Protestant England, to introduce cordial co-operation in common efforts of benevolence, and to promote the humane spirit among both Catholics and Protestants.—New York Times. His own words, in the noble eulogy he delivered on Newman at the requiem mass, apply with equal force to himself: “He was the center of innumerable souls, a geat teacher of men, a confessor for the faith, a preacher of justice and piety and compassion.”—Buffalo Commercial. In the estimate alike of his co-religion-ists and of his Protestant fellow countrymen, he has played a great and exemplary part in co; temporary life, and his name is inseparably united with the history of Catholicism in the memorable period of its revival in Great Britain.— Vew Y'ork Sun. !

AT TWELVE DOLLARS A WEEK. flow the Big Publishers Take In the Big i Public. Literature thrives through some [ dubious devices nowadays. A gen- I tieman in Chicago tell the Tribune: . “Not long ago I was in the publishing department of a house, when I picked up the cover of a book. The title was familiar. The work was that of a French author. It, the book, had been translated. I noticed • that the name of the translator was quite familiar to me. In fact, the I translator was known to me peisonal- I ly. I was somewhat astonished. I said as much. The publisher laughed. ! ; The translator is a well-known society ■ woman. An estimable woman, too. j I But I happened to know that she ! , could not read French. 1 know that j i she cannot read any of the languages. । I also know that while she is a bright I talker, a real charming woman, she I could not write 100 words of her own language correctly. Who did the ■ translation? I asked. My informant ' I took me to a dingy place in his estab- । lishment, in the garret and pointed . out a half-starved looking creature, I whose hair was pushed up against I his head until it looked like a sumi mer cloud. He was doing the work. r He was getting sl2 a week for the I work which was to appear as coming । from another, who is to repaid handsomely for the deception. And she does not need the money, either. Her name is wanted by the publishers. It is worth something to them.” Winters In America. “The winters in America nave , changed wonderfully since I was a । boy,” said Edward d'Neill, the in- ■ surance man, recently, “and while I Pittsburghers complain with greater I cause of the changeable, now warm, | now cold weather they get in the win--1 ter months, they are not alone in the enjoyment of the discomforts of a I treacherous, shifty climate. When I i was a boy and lived on the banks of i the Hudson, in New York State, the ■ river used to freeze solid by Thanks- ! giving, and from then until late in ! March we had all the sleighing we , wanted; the snow accumulated till I i: nhing on wheels was to be thought j of as a vehicle for months together. । I remember in going to school in J weather that was simply arctic, the j thermometer at 20 degrees below zero. “They have no such long periods of i very cold weather now; there are cold ; snaps and they still have some sleighI ing and skating, but the kind of wini ter I remember as the normal one of I my school days the Hudson River ; A’allev knows no more, Pittsburghers • enjoyed such winters twenty years i ago too. 'She theory that the destruction of forests and the clearing • and cultivating of the land has had this effect upon the climate may exi plain the mild, uncertain winters in

ygwiu in regaru to me nuason \ alley, ■ w hich is still dominated by the forest- ' I clad sides of the Catskills.”—Pitts- । burgli Dispatch. Origin of Several Fashions. Fashions have frequently originated I in endeavors of the inventors to hide , some deformity. Hoops, for instance. I to conceal an ill-shaped hip: ruffles, a । scar, on the neck, perhaps: large ■ sleeves history does not mention, and j ■ conjecture might not be acceptable. I I Patches were invented in the reign I of Edward VI. by a lady, who in this i manner covered a wen cm her neck. ‘ Charles VII. of France, introduced : long coats to hide a pair of crooked j . legs. Peaked shoes, full two feet i ’ long, were invented by the Duke of ’ Anjou, to conceal a deformed foot. : 1 : Francis I. was obliged, from a wound . in his head, to wear short hair, and j hence the fashion. Charles V., by i । severe edicts, banished tight breeches: I and during the reign of Elizabeth, i enormous large breeches came in , ■ fashion. The beaux of that day • stuffed their breeches with rags, I feathers, and wool, and other light i stuff till they resembled huge bales of. i cotton. To come up with them, the I : ladies invented large petticoats. It ; ; is said that two lovers could not come : i within seven feet of each other! At j one time, square toes ran to such a width that a proclamation was issued ! that no person should wear shoes more than six inches at the toes. Indeed*? Mrs. IT is a young married lady, I and an Episcopalian, says the Phila- i ; delphia Record. Iler husband is not I a member of any church: but. as all ' good husbands should, he frequently i i attends church with his wife. His 1 first attempt, however, to conform to I the Episcopal form of service was so mortifying that he was almost i tempted to forswear church-going al- ■ । together. It was on Easter Sum’ay, । and his wife, had to coach him prop- I erly beforehand, naturally wishing , him to take part with her in the [ service. “Remember now. mv dear,” i she said: “that the rector will come forward and say ‘The Lord is risen,’ [ and you will respond with. ‘He is ■ risen, indeed'—you will remember [ that, won’t you'?” “AVell. I guess I can remember four words,” replied • Mr. Jr . a t est j] y . An hour j later they were at the church. The' rector came forward at the proper [ time, in the beginning of the service, [ and said, solemnly: The Lord is ; risen.” Promptly and distinctly came i the response of Mr. II : “is He, indeed?” Forming shirt fronts is the subject i of a patent granted to an inventor, j This invention covers a machine : adapted to turn and press the ’edges : of shirt fronts in forming the seams, : and provides means whereby the mar- j ginal edges, having curved, pointed, i or irregular lower end or sides, may be expeditiously, conveniently, and I evenly laid and fixed readv for sewing. ‘

THE SUNDAY SCHOO® I — AN INTERESTING AND INSTRU® TIVE LESSON. ■ ■ Reflections of an Elevating- Charaetc^H Wholesome Food for Thought — Stu^H Ing the Scriptural Lesson luteiligen^H and Profitably. |H The Suffering Savior. The lesson for Sunday, Jun. 31, may found in Isaiah 53: 1-12. I INTRODUCTORY. And have we here a Third Isaiah. sooth? If there are “two I-aiahs,” why^H . three? And thls*is the third. It is a | caught this side the Cross, the confessio^H I a people who have slain the Christ. ; God that we.have something better I mere human sliifts of explanation h^H ■We bring God into the account. We re^M ! nize a miraculous hand in this wondH j y rophe -y, and all is plain. One Isaiah^H | the way through. Isaiah warning th;^| obedient : nl rebellious Jew^lsaiali p C^M ing tin. hopeful outlook of an IniprX^M and repentant i e jple. Isaiah catc^H a far but sure glimpse of the co:^H Deliverer : nd the kingdom he should^H tablish. Yes, there were two in thit^H spired portrayal, two, from first to Isaiah and God. XVHAT THE LESSON SAYS. Our report. The Margin suggests trine or hearing, the latter the literal brew, i. e., what the ear hears, From the word for believe, used here, our amen. It signifies, first of all. to firm, hence, to credit. Revealed. meaning to make bare or uncover, ha^H r« f-Tence to the o; en declaration of presence and power. Arm in the usually means. n> indeed poetically us, strength. Dry ground. The Douay says tb^M ground, fr- m the root meaning hot or^H ny, referring to the deserts. I^M 1 What we mean by the popular term beaut,- <>f form: from the verb around, hence, to mark out, cutlim^M Come.ine" Translated majesty 104: 1. I'rom the verb to shine. BeME Douay, sightlim-s From the verb t^M —— D e ire. Al-o means to delight in. Rejected. D< nay says, most übje^K: men, Hebrew, forsaken of men. fro^Ki root to fail. So rendered at Job 19: 14^KI kii. folk have f Hied”). The Revision^M fers the past ie-ise here: Was depise^Bi irejec’el. Acunainted. From the^H I to know. He knew grief by ptrson^M i i perk-nce. Grief. Douay suggests i I ity, as of bodily sickness. Why I ru *ll is tie original meaning of tho^M '- ■• hid. :,s it were, our face frou^^N A difficult passage. It is more liter^M hidina of ti,e face from u-—an ?ountenanc<-. Douay: His look wa^M » wer.-. bidden and despi -d. R-vl-io^H > one from whom men hide their xvas despised. HR Dur griefs. D may. again, infirt^^M w'nicii is mo-e literal. Carried. burden or p'-milty. Our sr rrows. pains. It is significant that tho w^H| aiiied to the Ciiaid-e roov, a th< In. tho-eonr thorns on his brow? “A^^H r I Emphatic, as if It were, as for | Strii-kem The term frequently a those io aring th,-plague m irk". So re^H| by Dou-iv, ami with nice discernmen^M| Lave thought him as it were a leper.^^H Wounded. The Margin says torn^HE Literally pierce 1, from the root t^UI ; r mnd or re through. -tripes. ami Margin aline suggest bruise or The e are two possible derivatio^H from the root meaning hurl, the oth^MH tin: to ,t meaning t > bind or band, streak, as with tm- -tripes of a tiger^B® I XVHAT THE LESSON TEACHES. 1 Have you tr d the power of this as learned by heart and «g i are so 1.. ip a u>j hear^ hill io them that are lest.”

-Nu forui of ciirneUness ” of the pa-sage in I’liillppißf ii ail l )i i; ..Cf < f n<> reputation?” Ml is the - ns of it. Ite cams in vterv looking for him in king’s glfl Hut whi n he oame, was it noj^^H mi'i'knoss of "a pour, wajfar::ts^B grief?” •■We did esteem him -tr'cLen. God." Ami ai" 'va to read a Messi^MS t l ' Ain Jo!)? \\ :l < the patient Jo^^M F' ■ rimamt "eo:: 0 rte: s" also Chriu? '• ■ i 'mr tran-gres-lnns.^Hß tiaim-trim-ia timt piereed • Bn'!-- < '.:tii'-," was Tuui-'-- :imt jre--ml the thirns^M'Tl of mir p^HH up'll him rm I stripes mi mi t . i::. mh A !)-;<d^M@ Between t he st m. r 1 he wi^^^S 1 oe .ravit y, Ai > t r:-lit;^^^B whom? Mjlfl mth.^^^B As- ' ■ ■ sa'.--' he '..aY' -. rid ■mm his ni ( m| persecutors. ^^^B f ; ' W prayer a^^Mß -ayiag^^^H • ■ - I i. for I;.ii lof the • ti. ’ ■ dirs, -•■■m-rat :mi in ^MB| a mmeimti 'U that no w:n^MM| ' im Um mtian : Cl. v i i h the Gm r: -S . M lie ‘I dmtmy^^B y. x • ec.ea^HM ••Yet the Lord." - n -triekin? was imt ti his loved elill^H^ai to '•d: Wli^M^B| de T'dv him-df at ^^Mk • W iiizh'.v exa^^^M " • - in '■ o'other way? 1* I hri-t i^MKB -o'djea^M "''■hr? j.- w s .■. i A- srd- r us -'tro'.SHHB < : < .->? A- • '.loss rn death K ■-riii^MMß yet tai- mt H Ciea^^BM n 't . t h : V>. hhi.-'lf. mEHMI '— ■ ‘ I ‘‘” As er Lessoc. I tti mod. rnt '• mio'igh : ; ' j.i.Ve • i y HHB Vm taik n.licit. BBBM ' y-s^Eg^B sii e w tilting with a big cue. MBI