St. Joseph County Independent, Volume 18, Number 4, Walkerton, St. Joseph County, 13 August 1892 — Page 7

nWOMMSINFLUENCE

ZLlaMJUwias^ CHAPTER VI. GOME VIEWS OF POVERTY. When Brian descended to the breakfast room next morning, ho found Margaret alone. She was standing near the open window, and so intent upon arranging some lilies in a bowl that she did not notice his presence until he was close beside her. His voice recalled her absent thoughts, and, looking up with a start, the warm blood mounted to her brow, notwithstanding her effort to control the momentary weakness. “I did not expect to see you so soon. ’’ she said, in answer to his "Good morning." “And I did not expect to see you alone. We are both disappointed—l most agreeably. Will you allow me to assist you? No? Perhaps you doubt my ability. I shall improve it by watching you. Or, better still, I shall take advantage of this opportunity to tell you that I am sorry I ever came here. ” “That is a poor compliment to Miss Hilton and me,” replied Margaret, with an attempt at lightness, and an absorbing interest in her task. "You know what I mean,” he returned, with some warmth. “You know why the very sight of you is painful for me. You seem happy enough, but I am utterly miserable.” “Did you sleep well last night?” she broke in, With questionable irrelevancy, placing the flowers, which she could make no further pretext of fixing, in the middle of the table. “No, I didn’t sleep at all,” was the rather short reply; “I was haunted.” "Haunted! How unpleasant! I wonder why they don’t bring in breakfast. Will you ring that bell by you, please?" “No, no! Wait one moment, Margaret. I dare say the coffee isn’t ready, or the steak isn’t cooked, or something. I don’t like my breakfast half done; besides, I’m not hungry. ” “But I am; I’ve had a long ride this I morning. ” “You didn’t use to ride at S’conset. Confound that hole! How I wish it had been swallowed up before I ever saw it! Why did you deceive me, Margaret? | You told me your name was Smith." “And so it was while I was there. Others knew me as Miss Smith, why { shou’dn’t you?” She colored in spite of herself. “You might have told me afterward," ! he continued, reproachfully. “What aI ' difference it would have made!” “I understand,” sho replied, with not ' n. little scorn, and Brian, feeling that he i had committed himself again, was about j to say something in his own vindication, i when the door opened and Miss Hilton । entered, thus putting an end to the tete- I a-tete. He saw Margaret’s expression of relief, and his heart sank accordingly. ' But during breakfast she talked to him so pleasantly and naturally that he began to feel less depressed. He was even planning a quiet hour with her during the morning, when she arose from the table, with the words: “I think I shall ride over to The Cedars, Miss Hilton. I haven’t seen Alice since ■ my return, you know. -I am sure you i and cousin Brian will have lots to talk over, so I’ll leave him in your hands.” Miss Hilton noticed the change that | pass'd over Brian’s countenance, but she answered quite cheerfully: “Very well, my dear. You mustn’t 1 neglect your friends. Brian and I will have a nice, quiet morning together. Don’t let the Colonel keep you too , long.” “After your remark about the quiet I morning, I think I’ll spend the day,” ; was Margaret’s quiet rejoinder, as she i passed through the door which Brian : held open for her. Twenty minutes later she had mount- | ed her horse, and was following the | well-kept road through the busy little ' town. But though she was nodding every few minutes to the people she j passed, her thoughts were far from her I i rest nt surroundings. Certain ideas had obtained lodgment j in her mind and refused to be displaced j For the first time, the possibility that her uncle had looked forward to a union i betwe n her cousin and herself came to ; her with a certainty that was absolute i pain. She recalled many incidents and , allusions,many half-forgotten conversa- j tions, which received a deeper meaning i from this new possibility. She remembered that often, in speaking of BrJan, her uncle had said a good ' wife would be his salvation, that home I ties would bind him to a more useful . life, and that his most earnest desire ! was to see his wayward son well and | happily married. But she remember'd, above all, that i when her uncle lay dying he had awak- | ene l, after many hours of unconscious- i ness, to say, in accents which only her ear could catch: “God will bless and i guard you, Margaret. Don’t forget • Brian, and be good to him for my sake.” i The request had sounded oddly then, i but now it had a new meaning. Was i her uncle looking into the future even ) then, or did he in his dying moments ' enjoy the happy delusion that his hopes j were realized/ Margaret was trying to answer this painful question when she reached her destination —a handsome, modern-look-ing house, surround I by stat ly cedars. Bunning up the broad staircase, with the air of one familiar with t ie surroundings, she paused before a half- j opened door, with the words: “May I come in, Alice?” For answer, there wa- a glad cry; the sound of a «hair falling, followed by rapid footsteps, and a pretty girl of a brunette type rushed into Margaret’s arms and kissed her with affectionate impetuosity. “Oh, I am so glad to so ■ you,” she cried between her spasmodic caresses. “You dear child, you’ve been away an age. You look pale, too, or perhaps it’s this bla k dress. Come right in. Everything’s mussed as usual. There, take j

my big chair, and consider yourself quite privileged. So that wretched place didn’t quite kill you?” “No,” laughed Margaret, allowing herself to be placed in the chair in question. “I am very much alive, as you see. You and Miss Hilton really amuse me; your ideas of S’conset are as different from the reality as night from day. It is a whole host of delights in itself. I am really not an object of sympathy, so your pity has all been thrown away.” “So it has, .you bad girl. Why didn’t you tell me before. I might have saved some. Still I’m glad to see you back. Uncle will be delighted. He has been positively unbearable, and I do hope your presence will improve his temper. Oh, I had quite forgotten. Your cousin is with you, isn’t he? Is ho nice? How does he like things, and how do you like him?” Alice moved nearer to Margaret, and taking her hand, laughingly gazed into her face. “Yes, he is home. He came yesterday afternoon, and Well, it is simply unendurable. Fancy the position of playing hostess to a man who feels you have taken his birthright. Yet, there are people In this place who think me fortunate. Some persons never see beyond the surface. ” “Well, don’t think about it, my dear,” said Alice, consolingly. “It isn’t your fault. lam anxious to see your cousin. His return is all over the neighborhood, of course. I'm afraid it won’t please Mrs. Downs. She may think poor dear Alfy’s chances lessened thereby. He has pined to a mere skeleton during your absence, Margaret.” A contemptuous expression passed ; over Margaret’s face. "I do wish some one would marry him and carry him off to another neighborhood,” she said. “I am so thoroughly tired of seeing him around. He may be the paragon his mother thinks him. I daresay he is. He hasn’t brains enough to be otherwise. But I prefer a little wickedness to want of sense.” “Don’t be sarcastic discussing Alfy, my dear. Ho is a very nice, girlish young man, and his bank account will reach from here to the Gulf of Mexico. ” “Perhaps if it were shorter he might be better,” commented Margaret. “Money causes all the trouble in the world. ’’ “The want of it, you mean, ” suggested Alice, sagely. “It is a wonderful power, no doubt. It makes beauty more beautiful, virtue more virtuous, and greatness more great. The very thought of it makes me wax eloquent. Seriously, my dear, poverty is the meanest thing under the Sun. Nell agrees with me j there. I had a letter from her this morning, and to cheer you I will read it. ” “How Is Nell?” asked Margaret, smiling at a thought her mind conjured up. “I don’t see that plaque she painted. Have you become unappreciative of her g-enlus? ” “No,” returned Alice from the depths of her desk, where she was hunting for her letter. "But uncle gave me that lovely little landscape on the left there, and when I hung It by Alice's plaque, the contrast between it and her indigo lake and impossible trees was startling, even to my inartistic eye. I stood it for a few days, but at last nature would boar no more, and the plaque now reposes in my trunk, where the sun can not fade or the dust injure. Hore’s her letter. “My Dear Alice: At last I am sitting down to answer your letter, and acknowledge its welcome inclosure. My head is buzzing the things I have to say, but I’ll begin at the beginning. Gratitude before everything in my category. I will therefore thank you for your Check. I spell it with a capital, you observe. I don't know that it is correct according to the rules of orthography, but under the laws which make us important or insignificant in proportion as we are rich or poor, it is perfectly in order. Henceforward I shall adopt.it as showing my deep and abiding respect for money. “This particular money came in quite apropos. We had been getting our summerwardrobe (I use this word advisedly, as it sounds more imposing than enumerating details), and you will not have to strain your imagination much to bring to mind the painfully emaciated condit'on of the family purse. It looked extremely humble, I assure you, despite l the fact that poverty is always proud. । But the moment your check arrived, what a change! It immediately swelled with pride, like the fabled frog whose picture I used to admire so extravagantly, and though it has been considerably depleted since, it still remains fat. “Now, Alice, a word of advice. Keep in with the old bear and make him ; leave you some money; for, horrible thought,the Reynoldses seem to be growing poorer. I think it a decided mistake on the part of mamma and papa to have had so many children. But I have noticed that this mistake is common among poor people. I suppose they want numbers somewhere, so they make up in babies what they lack in dollars. If matters don’t mend with us, shall go to writing stories; I always did think I had a talent. “In your last letter you mildly inquired if we liked our new flat. My dear child, the question was superfluous. Flats weren’t made to be liked; not the cheap flats, at least, and those are the only kind we indulge in. Our present one is a narrow tunnel, probably a trifle broader than the road which is popularly supposed to lead to eternal bliss. We have daylight at each end and vary- [ ing degrees of twilight in the middle, i and our bed-rooms are so small that i Bess, being a girl of resources, kneels ‘ upon the bed to say her prayers and j prevent me from tumbling over her feet, ' which, to say the least, are not in proportion to our apartment. "Speaking of Bess, I’m dying to know if she ever mentions Mr. Spencer in her letters to you. That man is my abomination, and I shiver at the possibility of such a brother-in-law. He likes her, I know, for he comes here nearly every night, sits in our best chair, which he has nearly worn out, and talks through the biggest nose it has been my fortune to see. Altogether he is odious, and if Bess marries him, she is no sister of mine. "Allusions to marriage and such giddy subjects remind me of what I consider a most important piece of news. I have a devoted follower, a painfully verdant, callow, youth, with brains so few as to be scarcely worth noticing, and a bank account so long that—well, i that, like charity, it covereth a multi-

tude of sins. He is so enraptured with' me, that my red hair is golden in h eyes, from which fact you may estimate the extent of his imagination. “ ‘lf he only had a little more sense,’ I find myself saying morning, noon and night, but with all the possibilities tha' cluster around that ‘if,’ the unwelconn fact still obtrudes itself. His mind is a vacuum, and I, like nature, abhor a vacuum. “Sometimes I wonder if his pocketbook can fill the place where his brain ought to be. As the question is a momentous one, pray give me the benefit of your advice. Meantime, I continue to be the sun of his existence, the star of his night, and a few other luminaries. And as, also, you must be thoroughly tired of me by this time, I will sav S;ood-by, for the present. Everybody oins me In love to you. More in my next. Nell. ” “P. S. Being a woman, my letter wouldn’t be complete without a postscript. So here it is: Give my love to Miss Margaret when you see her. I suppose she is as sweet and as pretty as ever, for I know her good fortune hasn’t spoiled her. ” Margaret flushed and smiled at this allusion to herself. “Just as bad as ever,” she commented. “Nell will never be staid nor dignified.” “That is what mamma says. We are all a lively set. I dare say they think my nest is feathered, but ” Alice shook her head doubtfully. “Uncle is so overbearing at times, and I was never noted for mildness of temper. Sometimes I get perfectly raving, and then there’s a grand scene. Indeed, you wouldn’t laugh if you were in my place. “There is his bell now. He is awake, and I suppose he wants me. Evidently he’s in a bad humor. Come with me, Margaret. He will want to see you, and besides your presence may be as oil upon the troubled waters.” Alice hurried off, while Margaret waited to get her hat and gloves. When she reached the head of the stairs she heard the Colonel’s high-pitched voice, evidently answering some proposition from Alice. “Go back? I’ll go back when I choose. Miss. I’ll not be dictated to. I’ll— Bless my soul! if there Isn’t Margaret. When did you get here, child? Just now? Well, well! I’m so pestered and bothered. I can hardly see you. Come here and let me have a good look at you. “ At this invitation Margaret came down the steps, and the old gentleman, despite her blushing remonstrance, took her face between his hands and kissed her on each cheek. “So you’ve been away, and come back as pale as ever,” he added, holding her from him and looking at her earnestly. "1 believe we could have done better for you here. I’m glad to see you, child, mighty glad. Missed you like the devil. By the way, I hear you’ve got that young scamp with you. I doubt if he had one foot off the t rain before some of these confounded tattling women published it to the neighborhood. If I were the husband of some of them, I’d hang or shoot ’em. What are you giggling at, Allee? Nothing? Well, have more sense. Come over and take dinner with us, Margaret. No company, you know. Only yourself and Brian, if you choose to bring him. I want to see the boy. I suppe se he’s grown out. of my rocognit ion." - -w ■ W The old gTmtleman disappeared in the library as he made this last remark, and Margaret turned tn Alice with a smile. “I must be going,” she said. "I’Ve left my cousin, you know, and I must not be inhospitable. Please come over soon, Alice. Miss Hilton sent her love and a special invitation.” Alice stood on the porch for some minutes after Margaret was gone. “If I should turn prophetess,” she said, half aloud, I would say ’’ She did not complete her sentence, but, smiling to herself, went into the house. [TO be continued.] On the Care of False Hair, In a brochure on the toilet “by a professional beauty.” a short chapter is devoted to false hair, the care and use of it. Probably few women who are obliged to wear false hair give it any thought after it is laid on the dressing-table. This authority asserts, however, that it should be as carefully brushed and combed every night as natural hair; only in this way can it be kept clean and fresh. It is alyo suggested that it be put in a covered box of sandal wood whenever it is not on the head. In a New York woman's dressing-room is a small box table with a lid. It is of soft wood painted with pink enamel paint inside and out. To a curious visitor its owner disclosed the interior, which is divided into several compartments of irregular lengths, at the bottom of each of which is a silken sachet filled with Florentine orris and violet powder. Switches, cuffs, and curls rested lightly in their proper nests. “A notion of my maid,” explained the woman, whose hair matched that in the box, with a laugh, “to preserve and pei fume mad« ame’s coiffures.” Something About IgiUv Mary Gordon. Lady Mary Gordon, to whom “The Sisters” is dedicated by her affectionate nephew, Algernon Charles Swinburne, is the youngest of the twelve children of the third Earl of Ashburnham, being seven years junior to the poet’s mother, Lady Jane Swinburne. She married in 1839 the only son of Gen. Sir James Willoughby Gordon, and possibly from this gallant soldier have filtered clown some of the military traditions embodied in the tragedy. Sir Henry Percy Gordon succeeded his father in 1851, but sought distinction in a different line, took honors at Cambridge, and became aF. R. S. At his death in 187 G the baronetcy lapsed for want of an heir, and his widow, Lady Mary, was left in possession of North Court, their pleasant seaside home near Niton, in the Isle of Wight. Extraordinary Remedy for Paralysis. Dr. Leon Paul of Paris has latelj come out in favor of sterilized subcutaneous injections of solutions ol sheep’s brain as a cure for paralysis. He claims for this extraordinary medicine that it has no injurious reaction, and that in almost every case in which he has tried it there has been a marked improvement in the patient’s condition.

VOTED THE $2,500,000. THE DURBOROW BILL PASSED BY THE HOUSE. Colonel Fellows Eloquently Talks for the Fair—Hailey for the Filibusters—l3l For and 83 Against—Must Close the Fall Sundays. Settled the Squabble. The House has passed the amended Durborow World’s Fair bill by a vote of 131 yeas to 83 nays. The bill was signed by the Speaker as soon as the result was announced and was immediately sent over to the Senate. As passed tha bill gives outright to the Columbian Exposition $2,500,000 cn condition that the doors be closed on Sundays. The pledges made to the friends of the Fair were kept in every instance. At noon Friday the House resumed, in committee of the whole, the consideration of the bill. Mr. Cummings, ol New York, opened the opposition with a bitter speech against a proposition which he characterized as one which was intended to loot the Treasu’y. The World’s Fair proposition had so mixed itself up with the Government that it was difficult to tell which was the World’s Fair and which was the Government. The remnants of former Congresses had covered the floor so that it could hardly be told whether the present Congress or the heel-taps of former Congresses ran the House. It was a matter of pride with him that he had filibustered against this looting appropriation. Mr. Fel’ows of New York eloquently supported the bill. The work, he said, was a Governmental one. The idea of the fair had Imn born in Congress; it ha 1 its meeptio i h re. 1 rom tne start to the finish it was a Governmental work. The delate ccntir.u d until 1 o’clock. Much of it was entirely foreign to the question pending and referred to the Commissioner of Pensions. Precisely at 1 o’clock the Cha rmun of the committee of the whole stated that under the order of the couse the committee must rise. Having arisen, the Durborow bill was re; orted *o the House. The pending amendment a d the only one) was a substitute off red by Mr. De Armon 1, of Missouri, for the first section of the b 11. It provide; that if the World’s Golumb an Exposition -hall deposit at a ns ; nt of the Un.ted States a sufficient quantity <>: s Iver bullion it shall be coined and dekvere 1 to the exposition in hal dollar coins n amount no* exceeding $5.000,010. The substitute was rejec ed; yeas, 70; nays. 139. The 101 l was then called for the vote on the final pas age of the Durl orow bill and the result was—yeas HI; nays, 75. A second call was ordered and the bill was passed by a vote of 131 to 83. A motion to re< onsider was la d on the table after a futile effort to filibuster was made by Mr. I'a ley of Texas. This passes the bill finally in the Hou-e. NEW CURE FOR PNEUMONIA. Blood of a Convalescent Injected Into the Sufferer's Syst -m. A novel operation was performed at the Philadelphia hi s; >it a I by r 6hch of the resident staff and nurses, and the result has been so favorable that it is n >w the opinion of the medical men interested that a new and immediate cure for pneumonia has been discovered. The operation consisted in a patient who was recovering from the disease being bled, amt his blood being infused into the arm of the sufferer. The patient on whom the operation was performed was a white man who had been brought in by the district surgeons The convalescent from whom blood was extra ted was a colored man. An incision was made in the while man’s upper arm, and one of the veins was isolated for about half an inch. After it had been b >und and the natural flow of blood stopped, a -lit was made in it and a glass tube with a wide aperture was inserted. Then about a plat of blood, extracted from the arm of the colored man. was poured in. Gravity carried it into the veins, and soon the blood was coursing through the man’s body. In order that the body should not be supercharged with blood a similar amount was extracted previous to the operation. This was black and unhealthy -looking, while the blood infused was of a bright-red color. Alter the operation the man’s tem--1 erature rose, and symptoms similar to those that were noticed after the Koch lymph injections followed. In a few hours, however, a change for the better sot in, and the.next morning the man’s temperature was normal, and apparently Jie is a well man. According to the theory acted upon, the system of a convales ent is full of the pneumonia bacteria antidote, and when the blood charged with this is infused info a sufferer it works a cure immediately. DEPOSITORS DISGUSTED. Discijuracing’ Result of the Examination ol the Bank of KI Reno. The committee appointed by C. L. Severy, assignee of the defunct Bank of El Kono, O. T., has just made a partial statement of the condition of the bank’s books a- d the financial standing of the president of the concern, S. M . Sawyer. The deposits of the bank, as far as the (ommittee has progressed, are shown to be a little over $7.00(1, but sm h vehement protests were made by the citizens, that tl e expert accountants haxe refund to act further as examiners. Sawyer figure I his assets on the b< oks at S2O,O(M', but this amount represents city pr. perty, wiiieh is no: riy all contested and is really of no value at all. The partial statements of the committee have intonsifl^d the leeiintr against Sawyer, and one of the most prom.n nt attorneys in the city said that unless Sawyer or his wife ma-'e a speedy settlement with his depo-itors he would be prosecuted for larct ny. It is said that few ladies continue their piano playing long a'ter their marriage. But it is believed that this announcement is made m order to encourage young im n to enter matrimony. There is some truth in the remark of the humorist to the effect that many men lose their health in getting wealth, and then lose their wealth in getting health. Ethel—l hope the men aren’t going to wear those horrid broad-brimmed straw hats again this summer. Maud— Why? “Because they muss one’s bang up so!”

THE COCOANUT IN AMERICA. Only Sixteen Years Ago (tie First Scc<ls Were Planted. While the eocoanut tree abounds In South Florida it is not a native of the section, nor has the fruit been cultivated there for any great length of time. About sixteen rears ago a Bahama vessel was wrecked off the coast, near Jutiper Inlet. Soon alter the waves began bringing the cargo ashore, among which were found a large number of cocoanuts. Residents were very few in this section at that time, but they gathered together and appropriated whatever came to them. These cocoanuts were considered great prizes and were at once planted. The soil was found to be Indigenous to their growth and they thrived wonderfully. Thus was introduced the culture of the nut upon the soi> of the North American continent. In Dade County, one of the southernmost c 'Unties of the State, which has a sea front of 150 miles, there are now groves of great beauty, containing from HO to 0,000 trees. Cocoanut culture is very simple. The ripe nut is plucked from the tree and, in the outer husk that surrounded it, is put under ground, lightly covered with soil. The first shoot should make its appearance in one month after planting, but it is often two before it comes. When it is about a foot high it is transplanted to its permanent resting place. If the nut is planted as a nursery stock the husk is left on, as the young plant is very tender, and it seems that a growth out of the husks has a tendency to make stronger the reedlike joints. If it Ie first planted where it is to remain the husk is usually removed. For the first year the plant requires careful protection from the winds, but it gradually grows hardy, and at the end of six years begins bearing. The blooms make their appearan e— a dozen or more fingers, looking like giains of corn strung on wire about a foot in length. These grains are the young nuts. They ripen in a year’s timeand thereafter until its death the t ee is never without fruit in various stages of ripeness, from the tiny lobe the size of a pea, to ripe nuts, and there is not a day in the year when ripe nuts cannot be secured. It has been demonstrated in other countries that the. cocoanut tree will 1 ear fruit for 25 years. To what age they live has not been ascertained. The trees make a most beautiful and imposing grove, being truly tropical in their appearance. As they are planted only about twenty feet apart, they cast a thick, unvarying shade. They are evergreen, as is most tropical foliage, and their gracefulness, with the great h -ight they attain, makes them a desirablt^^a^ dil.tu^ a one foot to four, and they attain a heighth of 125 feet, having as high as 400 nuts on them at one time. Shorn of its cocoanut growth a tropical country would certainly be less attractive in appearance. The long feathery leaves that undulate so gracetully in the breeze which sighs among them, the “everlasting green” of their coloring, their tall stateliness and their symmetry, beautify the whole country where they grow—especially the South Florida country, where they grow in such profusion. Socia’istic Hens. There is a bird in New Guinea called the megapodius, which, in the size of its eggs and its manner of hatching them, must be reckoned with things outside the bounds of the ordinary. This rara avis is about the size of the common Plymouth Rock hen, yet its eggs are four inches long by nearly three inches in diameter. These birds do not attempt to set up >n their eggs in the ordinary way. A colony of them will nest together in a large mound, which is built by the birds themselves of sticks, sand, leaves, stones, grass, etc. When the vegetable matter of this curious nest mound decays the heat it generates, together with the sun’s rays, hatches the eggs, says the Philadelphia Press. Then again these nest-mounds are of gigantic proportions compared with the six? of the birds which construct them, being frequently as much, as twelve feet in height and sixty feet in diameter at the base. When the young birds are hatched they come out at a circular hole left in the apex of the nest for that purpose. The mother birds wait around until their broods are hatched, then each leads off with her own family. Naturalists are unable to decide the perplexing question as to how each instinctively select their own broods. While exploring one of these mammoth nests in search of eggs a native of Cape York was buried alive, literally killed by a bird's nest falling upon him. Florid Advertising. The following little translation from a Chinese paper seems to indicate that our almond-eyed friends can drop into poetry when they will. The lines are dramatic criticisms of music hall artists: “Kuei-foo has something poetical. Iler soul, red - lent of cinnamon blossoms, is bright and mysterious; even her shadow is full of fragrance. In a blissful, heaven-sent dream she transforms herself with her mate into a couple of mandarin dubks. Y'uen-yoo is transparent and clear. Her flesh and hones consist of jewels. Her soul is like unto snow. Whether laughing or weeping she is always perfect. When she opens her red lips her breath pervades with fragrance the city of Tietsin, all too small to receive it.” Don’t take up a man's time talking to him about the smartness of your children. He wants to talk to you about, the smartness of his children.

IHE SUNDAY SCHOOL AN INTERESTING AND INSTRUCTIVE LESSON. ReSectlons of an Elevating Character— Wholesome Food for Thought — Studying the Scriptural lesson Intelllgectly and Prout&bVAnanias and Sapplnra. “ The lesson for Sunday, Aug. 14, may be found in Acts 5: 1-11. INTRODUCTORY. Have you frowned at this swift punishment and called it severe? Does it seem to you that God should have mercifully passed over the falsehood as a piece of fortuitous dereliction? That would not have been mercy. It would have been worse cruelty to the race. Here was a lie. The greatest curse, next to unbelief, is insincerity, first toward God, and then toward man. It undermines and corrupts. See Franca to-day; the atmosphere is that of falsehood. Happy for this church that such an insidious disease were plucked out by the roots at the very start. And so real piety to-day means, plainly, truth. WHAT THE LESSON SAYS. Ananias. Meaning, given of God. The name does not save. Saophira. From the name of the precious 'tone, sapphire. Possession. Applies lere to real estate. The word signifies that it was, as Peter save, their very own. The same word used of the rich young man, Matt. 19: 22, (“great possessions”) . Kept back part, or set apart from it, a far too frequent mode of deception. Privy to it. Literally, knowing along with him. A certain part. As if it were the wb sle. Hath Satan filled? Filled with the spirit of evil rather than filled with the Holy Spirit. To lie, or deceive. Satan’s filling is for falsehood and deception. He possesses souls still. In thine own power, or right, with privilege of disposing of, as he chose. Conceived this thing in thine heart. Greek: Set, or settled this thing in thine heart. He was punished for what his heart determined to do. Gave up the ghost, or breathed out; ai we say, expired. The young men. Greek, younger. Porsibly a company somewhat like the Old Testament sons of the prophets, students of the word. Not knowing what was done. The affair was semi-private; certainly not notorious, or she would have heard of it inside of three hours. The land or field sold, literally rendered up. It was a clear case of falsehood. Agreed together. Literally sounded together. From this comes our word symphony. A symphony in sin. Straightway. The narrative is remarkably concise and strikingly realistic. Great fear. A wholesome awe as respects him with whom we have to do. And upon as many as heard these things. The effect on the outside world; so always. WHAT THE LESSON TEACHES. A certain man named Ananias. Yes^ and there was a certain “agus. Where good is, evil also creeps in. The vile serpent got into sweet Eden. Moreover, there was a certain sin-stained passage in Jacob’s life, and even in the life of Abraham, certainly in that of David. Peter also needed more than once io be reproved; likewise Thomas, and the sens of Zebedee. God’s book tells the plain, unvarnished truth. It was wrought out of some other spirit than man's. Why hath Satan filled thy heart to lie? Os course; Satan is a Bar from the beginning and the father of lies. He first comes and by lying gains entrance into the citadel of the soul. Once there he poisoned all the fountain, and the streams that flow forth are all vitiated by his presence. When once he fills the heart it is one great unceasing lie. Deception toward God, toward man, toward self; all false till the poor subject comes at last to believe and advocate a lie. Alas for “Whosoever loveth and maketh a lie.” The end is plain. “All liars sha'l have their part in the lake that burneth. ” Thou hast not lied unto men, but unto GoJ. Let us be careful. “Thon God seest me.” Yea, more. God not only hears all lies, sees all lies, but no falsehood is spoken that is not, in a profound sense, against high heaven itself. In a special and peculiar degree is this true of the deception practiced by Ananias and Sapphira, and so indeed of all falsehood respecting the holy things of God, devotion, consecration, faith. But it is in a large measure true, also, of the falsehood spoken or acted between men in the ordinary affairs of life. It is an offense to the central law of our being and virtual rebellion against God. Next Lesson—“ The Apostles Persecuted.” Acts 5: 25-41. A Poser. Torp^Duffee is a devotee of amateur photography, and one of those enthusiasts who can never see one of his family in a comfortable position without insisting upon taking a plate on the spot. He always prepares for the process by twisting the sitter into some outlandish attitude on the plea of making things more artistic. Not long ago there was an informal exhibition of the work of the photographic club to which Tom belongs, at which were displayed the fruits of the efforts of members to immortalize their friends. In one corner hung a group of figures twisted into the most extraordinary positions, the general effect being that of pictures taking from sitters partially paralyzed. “Who in the world arc these persons?” one of the visitors asked, pausing before them, and examining them with interest. “I know nothing about it,” respondI ed a bystander: “but they look to me like some of Toni Duffce's strained relations. ” A Western man has introduced a new method of prop'Hing street cars. He places a gasoline engine and a dynamo on the roof of the ear motors and a series of accumulators, which can be drawn on when required. Each car in this method can be said to be its own central station. The weight of the outfit is not stated. M. Dameny has taken successive photographs of the lips of a speaker, so that on arranging them a deaf mute, able to read from the motions of the lips, can understand them.