St. Joseph County Independent, Volume 22, Number 4, Walkerton, St. Joseph County, 15 August 1896 — Page 2

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CHAPTER XII. No immediate answer came to the knocking at the crazy door. But after a time the heavy footfall of a man was heard from inside the barrier, and a ■rough, deepvoice exclaimed, “Jet hunter’s password, my chap?” Richard. perplexed and impatient, no verbal answer, but tapped with his whip. ^ou haven’f^goFtbe password then, I don't care to listen to your patter, so sheer off, if you value a whole skin, my k man—tramp, yokel, or peddler, whatever you bo." “Why, Crouch?" exclaimed the bewildered baronet. Apparently the ferocious inmate of the hovel recognized the voice of his visitor, for the grating sound of rusty bolts was heard and the uncouth figure of Rufus Crouch, with his shaggy red beard and scowling face appeared in the doorway. “So it’s you, is it, Sir R. Mortmain, Baronet?” gruffly demanded the hermit of this singular hermitage, eyeing his guest with a sullen stare. “And a queer reception, to say the least of it, I have met with," replied Sir Richard, trying to laugh and to look unconcerned. “Walk in, Sir R.; you are free of the tint.” With some slight hesitation the baronet stepped across that ill-omened threshold. “Nice little crib —tidy little box, eh, Sir R.?” asked the ruffianly master of the hovel. “Not quite up to the mark of your swell house in Hyde Park. Yet it’s what I’ve come to. No one knows what he may come to, Sir R. Mortmain, Baronetdoes he. TL cn Ml what might t happen to yourself? The rolls at Millbank and Portland are trim, and kept well whitewashed, to be sure, and the beds are of good cocoanut fiber, and the gruel and the soup and the broad and the eight ounces of meat free from bone—but you look quite pale, Sir R. Not ill, I hope?" There was a malignity in the man’s manner that was intentionally offensive. Sir Richard, ghastly pale, and conscious of his pallor, answered by a hollow laugh, as he tapped his polished boots with the lash of his riding whip. “I do wish, Crouch, that your vivid imagination expended itself upon pleasanter themes," he said. “Here I am '% Yorkshire, after a ’ taMan, and as, . * in? rc^^^er. .otoea* aim treat a eomforfnbfe conclusion.” ‘Tm your man. Sir R.,” rejoined Crouch, as he pushed an empty barrel set on end toward the visitor. “Pray be seated.” The two confederates, so ill-matched in alb respects save that of unscrupulousness, sat down, confronting each other. The dogs without kept up a subdued chorus of growling. Sir Richard Mortmain was the first to speak. “Rufus, old friend,” he said, softly, “I have not known you so long without ix'rceiving that something has vexed you. I suspect it is the failure of your jet hunting affair at Dutchman’s Bay." "Would you, Sir R„ I’d like to know," demanded Crouch, very austerely, “have liked to have seven days’ such work as never your white hands did in your life, and then, betause the beast of a cliff caved in, to bo chqpted out of your gains, and hear a whipper-snapper of a boy like that young Don, that all the dunces here combine to worship, praised and flattered because he saved a life or two at the end of the job?” I, for one, think that Mr. Don an over-rated young fellow," said the baronet, with feigned sincerity. “So do I! So do I!" shouted Crouch, vehemently, as he seized a big stoneware bottle and poured some of the fiery Hollands it contained into a glass and drained it at a draught. “Confusion to Don! If I could cut that young cock’s proud I crest. I’d be happy. And now, Sir R., I'd like to know how you speed in your wooing. Is little Miss Violet willing yet to be my lady?” “Have I anything to get beyond a pretty face by what you are pleased to designate as my wooing, Rufus?' replied the baronet, with admirable patience. “I can t afford, as you know, to marry a portionless wife, and 1 should like to have a peep at that trust deed before I positively commit myself by a proposal, even were 1 sure ” “Now, Sir R., do yon take me iu. „ . green hand or a gone gony? I'd be thankful to know,” retorted Crouch, with a sort of^avage jocularity. “Do you really think I keep a sort of Doctor’s Commons registry, where wills can be inspected by the public at large for the small fee of one shilling? 1 know what I have got to sell, and what you have got to buy, and the value of it. But the question is, Sir R., whether you please the girl's fanc t v, or believe you do, enough to count .pn a 'Yes’ if you asked for it. You’re an old hand, and should have wheedling ways at command. And you are a man of title. Would little Miss Violet take you, if you pressed your suit? Becauseif she wouldn’t, it’s labor lost. I couldn’t jnarry her—a rough, ill-favored chap like me,” added the digger, resentfully; “but you are one of the smooth sort.” “I cannot tell,” replied Sir Richard, with apparent frankness. “These young, inexperi^iced girls know so little about their ox^p hearts that an outsider may well be ut fault. As a friendly acquaintance, if-^ot as a friend, I believe Miss MowbrayjCdoes regard me. And as my siAer, Lady Thorsdale, is going to assemble a loti>T fine company—or what does duty for^hch —at the Bark, my plan was to introduS^the Langtons and their beautiful wagft and in the stir and excitement of lire new- to Violet to ” “Pop we question, eh. Sir R.?” interrupted Rufus. “Ay, and see, too, that no girlish whim prevents its being an-

swered in the affirmative. Mind also that you don't try the dangerous game of playing fast and loose with me. You must go in and win, Sir R. Better marry than go to jail, and that's just tlu^choiee you’ve got before you. They wouldn’t hurt me, bless you! I'm Queen’s Evidence; but you, Sir R., would be made an example of. And if you didn't die in prison—why, Sir R., you look as white ae a turnip; you’ll faint, 1 think. Try this." As Crouch spoke, he rose, snatched a wine glass from the cumbered shelf near him, filled it to the brim with fiery liquor from the stoneware bottle, and handed it , to the baronet. i “I think I’ll go now," said Sir Richard, rising from his seat. “Make your hay while the sun shines, if you’re wise. Sir R.," said the fellow, as he watched the baronet unhitch the bridle of his horse from the willow stump, and there was a ring of menace in his tone. “I sh’an’t forget your counsel, Rufus,” replied the baronet, mildly. "Now, goodby.*' And he rode off. Rufus Crouch, shading his restless eyes with his broad hand, watched the figure of the retreating horseman till it was lost to sight, and then, with a chuckling laugh, as if of ( triumph, retired to bis den. > CHAPTER XIII. : “Good morning, Mr. Bartlett.” “Good morning, Mr. Langton." Not intellectual or highly original rc- > marks were these, no doubt, and yet the utterors of them were intelligent Englisht men enough, and each was a fair type of the class to which he belonged. What . ; the rector of Woodburn was we know, , but Mr. Bartlett was of a different and more robust genus. He was land agent to lord Thorsdale, and a rich peer’s mod- . el land agent ought, it seems, to combine two characters; he should N’ h bit of a . lawyt^gnd a bit of an agriculturist. Mr. ”irtlett combUH l the two characters. “1 have IWw my ^st clerk." lie said. "Young Carder, out of fifty, has gone off suddeidytW^^M.ftner with his father and his uncle mW■ tßlOhio, in I •ome rock oil business, and r nm left with old Screedie, who is g>xsi a* accounts, but can't ride, and geta blimn»f every day. What I want is a bright, brisk young fellow, who can ride n horse and drive a gig and keep hii» books square. And where am 1 to find him, I wonder. Mr. Langton?” “I think I kuo^^led the ^fer.] "precisely | the carvndnre rnnt would suit you. I j have no hesitation in recommending him, ; not in ths- least; but I am far from remin j A tfiat, if you deemed him suitable for tin fpost you hare to fill. be would be willing to accept it.” “Carder's salary km a hundred and fifty pounds a year," rejoined the land agent, promptly, “to be raised, had be remained with us six months more, to a hundred and e^hty. But then the s-cund clerk ought to be worth his salt." “I think you will find my young friend and favorite pupil worth his salt," re joined the rector, smiling. “Yon have heard his name, probably. It is young Don—Mr. Don, ns they call him here abouts the jet hunter, old Captain Oba diah's foster-son." “Ay, ay!" muttered Mr. Bartlett, d-mb-fully, as he rattled his watch chain. “Yes. yes—-I have heard of him the gentleman jet hunter a brave lad, I am sure, and a good one, Mr. Langton, or you would not speak of him as you do. That y -ung Don! No, I never saw him, but I always fancied him a vain, flighty sort of young ster, lording it over the fisher folk because they take him for something grander than they are—bold enough, but conceited and willful.” “You have been much misinformed, Mr. Bartlett, said the rector, seriously. “Don—our Don—is the soul of modesty, as your true knight should bo, with a kind word for all. That he is a gentleman born all believe, but he never presumes on the supposed superiority of his birth, and is to this hour the same frank, true-hearted l>oy that I have always found I him. If you want an assistant up at Thorsdale, and Don suits you, all I could do, Mr. Bartlett, would be to congratulate both employer and employed." “I should like to have five minutes' talk with the young man," said Mr. Bartlett, after a moment's reflection. “Nothing easier,” cheerily responded the rector, “since it is the time at which Don usually comes to read with me; and there he comes, with old Captain .Tedson for once by his side.” And indeed at that instant Don's lithe figure, accompanied by th® gnnnr, gj. "in 1T” Obadiah. camo in sight. ' then followed the usual greetings. Mr. Langton was the first to come to the point. “My friend. Mr. Bartlett here,” he said, "who is laud agent of Lord Thorsdale's estate, was just telling me of a vacancy in the land office. He has lost a good clerk, aud although I should lose a good pupil, 1 have ventured, Don, my boy, to suggest that the appointment might suit you, and thaft you might like ■ the vacant post.” “Dear Mr. Langton," said Don, turning his noble young face toward the clergyman, “you are always kind —too kind—to । me. But I am afraid I should make an ' indifferent sort of clerk, even if this . gentleman were willing to take me in I that capacity. I like books, but all my - life has been spent in the free air and in i exercise. We jet hunters would be out of place at a desk. You are very kind, , and Mp. Langton is more than kind, but , lam a jet hunter, and must live and die t with those who ^red.for me when I was r a little child.' '■ ■. “Don, my boy, such a rise in life for 3 you, in whose career 1 havwalways taken ; an interest!" pleadod^gS^rgyman. But - Don remained tinconvSKd, until his two 3 well-wishers found an unexpected ally ht < grim old Obadiah, who suddenly out- - stretched the gaunt length of his bony t arm. Don, my foster-son, and my own lad, exclaimec the old captain of jet - hunters, “to my voice you should hearken, t when it speaks, as it has ever done, for - your good. But yesterday, thinking of

you, my bairn. I tried a fall o f th ’ e hoiy pages, as did wise men of obi r dM tbeb^b o^b^^ story of how Joseph rose to be a stew.J unto Pharaoh, tar off in wondrous EgynH A jet hunter need not always be a let hunter. A'ou were always, my boy t go<xl to stick tc the beach. And it i Ixwne in upon me that this offer shonm be closed with ’ ’ lid It was agreed then that Don was t 0 k_ temporarily engaged in the land office at Thorsdale i’aik, in Mr. Carder's but that he was still to be understory t ' form one of the band of jet hunters Obadiah Jedson's command. CHAPTER XIV. It was early very early, according, conventional notions, on a bright, brL l ° morning in July wlxui Violet Mowbra^ iy book in her hand, left the house,/’ walked out into the Park The con'j/ nrt at her brother's wish, had been pVl W ^,,(, * larly gracious to the inmates of tlA* eonage at Woodburn, had calk'd Langtons, had asked them over ft Park frequently, and had > nT i ,e d&\jj sa Mowbray to spvnd a few days a'f yi|* rs . dale. One solitary s]a>t of peculiar po-ttiaees there was toward whieu Miss Uowbray never failed to wend Iwr way. It was called locally the Black Pool^fct Ince where the fern arched high. flowers nestling among the roots of tlw hoary hawthorns -evnied brighter and of richer tints that wild flowers elsewhere. Vio!vt had Mt the enchantment ot the spot, and sb? was fond of repairing there early on a fine morning, and laffore the fashionable company under tlu‘ earl's roof were astir. The Jeer within L>rd Thorada!*^ imnmmorinl Park were no plump, law, f a ]. low deer, but . f the true old prehstoric bretxl. And the p>ol was a favorte resort of the tail rtsl deer. Violet knew this well, and had more than once looked with admiration at the line of gleeful creatures ns |bey filed down from he uplamfs t<> slake their thirst. Bu' what she did not know was that stafs, elegant and pl< htresque adjuncts to a plensaunro as they may lx\ are i| sumiihT prone to tils of cnprie oini iII-|umor, and resent intrusion on their hamis. So when a fine «• litary stag, witl wide ■ branching antlers, came slowly inwehinf | down the strop and narrow path tint led ; tn the Klaek P<w>l, waving h:s pri>tl bend I from side to side, she was <o faj from ' anticipating any possible danger jbnt it nx'rely R'emnl to her as if another ele- ! ment of Iwant? bad l»<-n adrkxj^.v the prospect before her. She had her- ' self, book in h..nd, on u mossy,^jSf..rm- i <>! by the rted wo* the venerable hawthorn frees thaMMklered ' tbsps-: i ■. -wseig-J withont the lightest suspicion fß|t tsf > creature r» gnfdt«d her ns an and her presence m an affront. On came the stag. That the re ^k‘f in his rolling ete. Hcmxsl parJkropjyT Jk M O'aiice. : • J| w .. to gore the t -.rf w ith ma,y tiued j hori .. I■■ . m • * !In it. slow march yaw the gnßmd im- • ixillentij With .ts 'harp hoofrsl al! sign if host. •. V.,.. d, -bit , clwTge was to t e expected. w Violet D'g.vn to grow alarm s as the stag, red-eytxl. foaming and toeahg into the air grass and leaves at evrry stroke of its horns, drew msnrvr. repeating its ' menacing le||ow. The erl risen from her -eat and lei fail her brok. but i she was to ■ fr.ghtened to fly I’agHuatfsl, like a bird hit flutteis glaring cyea of a-: .ik. . -he sto.s) etjH. A man's quick trerd, a man’s cbcerißg loice ■ yea, that meant rescue. A filtnK-cmed to conw Is'f. w \ a ryes, and sank fainting >n the I r k. a .d m!y s^-vered consclousm-sii to Inui Don » ipporlflg her. "You are not hurt, M.-> Mow'»tw? No. Thon all is well. There is not. ^■ssure you, the least da gs r now," - id Don, earnestly, but softly. "Yonder, ®-wnrd the hills, you an j . atch a g! mt w of i your late enemy." And, liuhs-d. Yar off' might !•■ »ron the now distant fwmi of th'- def.xirod s’ g. - ul!- ly t: • • ig ab.::g to rejoin the herd. Violet never quite knew the circum►tanws of her w«e. Don. ;ss was his habit, made light of his own prowess, i "It was very viusy," he said, smiling, j “with this stout stick for a conjuring wand in my hand. • > . \-.r< i- the trouble- ! some apparition. But stags are often ill- ’ tempertsl, n.s I am told, ami it might l>o ' more prudent. Miss Mowbray, to avoid lonely pharos in the park, unless you are escorted. As . :s. it was fortunate that 1 happened to lx> near.” “A kind Providence sent you to my help. I think, said Violet, simply. "I was very frightened, and gave myself up for lost. But when 1 heard your voice, , Mr. Don. then I felt that I was safe, and so—l was very foolish!" And she tried to smile, while tears swam in her lieau- ■ tiful eyes. "You owe me ue thanks. Miss-Slow-bray, for the little I was lucky onojgh to effect Any one else would have <jr>t eas much. I happened to be croaCing the Park on my way to lock afifer some vroo^mon who are tro^s f.ir I mn vn tho OflTi’R time, you may perhaps rememS \ Violet was trembling yet, but;ll .KM^oked at her watch, and saw tbl.t, under penalty of being late for brealqfast, and thus attracting notice unwelcome to a timid girl among strangers, it Behooved her to return to the Hall. Her first steps were weak and unsteady.. Don offered . her the support of his strong arm, and side by side they traveled the winding path that led past bosky dell and ferncrested bank, under leafy elms and beneath spreading beeches, tow’fird the house. Presently they drew so near to the ornamental grounds, full of rare shrubs and flowers of lower growth than the indigenous giants of the Park, that Don deemed it best to '.eave Violet to pursue the rest of the short walk by herself, lest her presence in his company should be noticed and commented on. (To be continued.) The Cradle of Ohio The house in Rutland, Nass.— the town known as the “cradle rt Ohio"— where General Rufus Putnim and a • few friends first discussed the, 1 lans which led to the expedition to what is now Marietta, A Q., is to be lreservfd as a memorial' title is to te plac’d in the hands of tVe trusted if public • reservations, General FT;in|S A. Walk- ! er treasurer.

SUNSHINE is deadly hundreds are LAID low in VARIOUS PLACES. Buffering ln the Citie. I. the Worst ver Kxperionced -l n <> n# I)ay Beventy-two Dio in Now York and a Bcoro Pariah in Chica a o. Rlaln by the Hot Sun. o hok ‘ , of . thc Sta ^ has moßt renmrkablo me--11 <'M>«‘nemv for years. Exrosm.k ,a ” cou ‘ b| ued with humidity to make the lot of man and beast almost uuidurable. All records for eight years Br^ t ? MH ‘ n J ,roken - In New York and w<^ Im seventy-two ^opio *<re killed outright; in Chicago, ID; la ht. Ixmis Saturday, 25; In Philadelphia, Boston, I ittsburg, Detroit and other towns, lower numbers, though the heat was intenixn In addition to throe, there were thousands of prostrations, many <d Uhleh will terminate fatally. The suffering among the very p»x>r of the cities has been terrible. The following table shows Sunday « record: New 1 ork nud Brooklyn 70 Philadelphia 23 Baltimore ' 19 Chicago IM Small Illinois tow is. t , 9 Cincinnati B Small towns In 1ndiana...,,,,,,,,, 3 Small tow ns iu Ohio 3 Boston St Louis Pittsburg ' j Cleveland o T^misvillo Memphis 1 Sau Autonio 1 Sioux City ~ j Worst Since 1 S!»2. Now \ork city has not had such a suc-c-sshm of hot dnt- and such lists of pros tratinns hy the heat since ISD2. in July of thnt year rhe official thermometer registered on th.. 25th, !G 2Gth. DOty; 27th, 92%; 28th. 94; 2»th. 96U. and fell on the ; to 94. The humidity was high as | well as the beat, ami the published list । of prostrations and fatal sunstrokes rose i to thirty-one deaths and ninety-two pros- < trationa in Nt-u \ <»rk nn«l Hrooklyn on j the 28th. and sixtv five deaths nnd 133 | prostrations, on the 2thh. The feverish j efforts of th< -«> who Jive in narrow and i airless r*x»m« to get drop caused more than tlx* usual numls r of persons to roll ' from roofs and fall from the Wiconiro of I fi>* p* '■ 4 hot trot day ..f the present protractrw^pe!' of fierro lx\tt. and the most tin • -^thble of all this summer, fell up’n PhUaJs,4nhia l» * .<! m Im.-ht Sat- .’ ■ - . > ■ ■ >enty four prrtoiM s’nd pro»:rat ons to .m unusually nu: Ox r M 1 and women dropjx-<l 1 fyh »’<>( jn tine strix-ts and 1 few I «-d ! I then CSJP I reach them. Oth"fs v t b.-.r !><• Is. and -^43*4. under tr.-ut ment in e-ards. AWthe various lx —- ppai*- Ph<t felt nothing like the present spell s.mv July. 1«c.»2, when ■ for mm d-ays buuMn;ty »«. bored ami ' s rkeood nt der a !eru;w»ratute !i. t fluctu ; ated bet««w;i and b’2 degvros. I It: a’sited heat dealt death to Chlca- ’ |c aas S ui.! I r- Ta' .f - drop",, the I luiet of 'b. I>v nq wil'd in t-i-v ' I rur'. r ■ f I 1 > , a t lake I breeoc in the umraing grapples! with the ’ rising teuqnTa ire it 1 'hoked it down 1 anti! the afterm^;. it ar to l«3, the maxlmtm • H1! it not been !q|^Hßr:«t!cms ^rher m the < , .a**'.’t !iatr l»*-u much grcn'.r . At midm.^t nlnido. . death,s fr ' .-it , had been rep>rt<’l ’ > • ' aei 'h d.-part | ment. Tb<- jxjbre <wred for Gl caws -.f 1 proalrstion. 17 of th--:u re- Hung fatally. ' Most of the cat.. « w. reporttxl in tiw afterD.Mm. The police ambulances were J taxed to their utmost to rropond to the : anusna! numl-r-f ct । wh: -h were made I Upon them. -.1 t; d.u.ts at the h >s- } p.ta!* bad th. ir b- ids full preparing ice i I >.nipr-s»ts» and . . -etmxlivs nee.--.sary ; in can g f-.r t . :.t. Th- ’.-aths Jue to sunsT -k. rep-rted to the health bqrj rtment : t days are as follows: Thursday I S ;-lay ID Friday •" Saturday s T f al for 4 days. 36 For rhe entire -t-.- sp-mling week last year but fatal case .>f sunstroke was rep<,—.-J. Tb>- hiah loath rate last week |is charged by ffieiaL -f the health dei partmest directly io the terrific heat and I the high de.gr-e . f humidity m the atmus--1 phere. It is mm . an-nter tha.i last year s 'record and ■■•>:i!irm« ’ - Llief of the <le- : psrtment that .for years Chicago has not I suffen-d so ^..ri-lv from the h-at. The ’ records for lu-t week and the .orrespond- | ing week in W-G ere I'-nqeiu-.l as p.llows: iSDij. Deaths. | Sunday. Aug. 2 2S Moaiay. Aug. 3 I ,M I | Tuesday. Aug. 4 UI j Wednesday. \mr. 5 I Thursday. Aug. G ! Friday. Aug. 7 IUD j Saturday. Aug. S-> j Sunday, Aug. 9 Si I Total C>5S 7*7 -*”F.. "7*777.... Sunday. Aug. 4 37 Monday. -Aug. 5 107 Tu-s lay. Aug. •> 77 Wednesday, Aug. 7 G1 Thursday. Aug. S GO Friday, Aug. 9 I'G Total 599 At St. Louis, for a fortnight each day hss broken its record. Saturday the official thermometer recorded a continuous temperature of 99 degrees during wnr!y five hours. On Friday the record was nearly as high. Sunday the thermometer reached 90 degrees at 10 o'clock and attained its maximum of 9S degrees soou after 3 o’clock, remaining practically stationary until after 5o clock. At < o clock in the evening the mercury had fallen to D 3 degrees. There were forty-eight cases Os prostration from heat Saturday, with right deaths. Sunday, when no labor or manufacturing was in progress, there were eighteen prostrations and two deaths from the heat. The high temperature is leaving its mark upon the city s mortal :+ v record. The normal rate Js vbout 2l>o deaths a week. Last week 273 vurial certificates were signed. Had Sunday been a day of labor in Boston there would have been a long list >f fatalities to record. It wae, with one Exception, the hottest day of the summer to far, and the heat was made more intensely uncomfortable by the fact that

SThJ 0 ? 4 ’! 7 ■ R ’ a ’ Very The ho.1 ‘ A s '”»dny night reported only two —^-fproHtratiJ.^ !n Gincinnati. the heat has caused many d^Hths. but there have been only two atahties directly from sunstroke. The temperature has been in the 90's for a week. The weather bureau reported the maximum temperature 94.1 at 3 p. m. 91 at G p. in. and 95 nt 10 p. m. At Omaha, the heat has bron almost insufferable. A few pros!rath ’•» have been reported, ami physicians report many eases of partial sunstroke. One fatality occurred Sunday. Sunday in Baltimore was really the worst of the heated term. There’were <lenths frora the heat ana about ^1,77 P^^arions reported at 10 o'clock Sunday night. BRYAN'S TRIP EAST. Crowds at the Stations Alon u the Route to See the Nehrnakan. «i 1 ‘ J ' 7 l 1 :yan « the Democratic presidential candidate, was the recipient of many demonstrations while en route from his borne in Lincoln, Neb., to New York city to receive the official notification of his noiulumion. The trip was innuguratel under favorable conditions. It was a day •r torrid temix-rature, but long before b « “me f., r thv <lelMrture of u “ B “ 1 I ,nr y “>«’ Rock Island depot platform in । Unroln wus crowds!, and when the car- । riige containing Mr. and Mrs. Bryan drove up a round of cheers went up from over 1,000 throats. From that time on until the train pulled out people jostled each other ns they pressed around their fellow cilium and grasped his hand and ” ished him Go ’ speed. As the train drew away from tlr- station a thousand fluttering handkerchiefs waved a i>arting adieu, •hi the second day of the trip the party ■ it Des Moines nt G:sOn. m. Colfax was reached n few minutes before S o’clock nnd nearly 1,000 people were wedged info the narrow space between the tracks. Many of them were miners with their I imps in eiqr. At Newton at 8:15 there were L2»M) to 1,500 enthusiasts on the platform. 1 hey were so bent on cheering that it was with difficulty that Gen. Weaver suroeeded in finally restoring order while Mr Bryan mnde n brief sjieech. At lowa City a ten minutes’ stop wia made and l.onO people voiced their enthusiasm through the medium of a brass band. I’he crowd at Davenport followed io the hotel and stood in the parching sun until Mr. Bryan bad finished his dinner, when he addressed them fronf the hotel porch. When Chicngi was reached at 7:20 - <-!o<-k Saturday night, there were nearly 10.000 poop'.- massed about the Rock Isi.r.d station, anxious to catch a glimpse <>f the prroidentinl candidate. Almost L<»»> »f 'i.-se e-re memlxTs of the various silver organizations which went to - -ri-1 Mr. Bryan t > his hotel. The stn'ets were n,.<x| whl^ixx»p!e anxious to s-e the nomi!ro for I'resafi nt. Mr. Bryan lx>w«sl to ■he right nnl left continuously all the way (o the hotel. When the Clifton H -me- finally was reachis! Mr. Bryan went innixdlate'.y to the balcony, where the formal eXer-isro were held. William J. Strong the Republican chairman of th., o -- t»»TbV>onimHtro, delivered the nd- , !: -s^ >f welconio. ami Bryhn aT u>ko toms : man) ;>-.»plv n« could crowd in front of । the hotel balcony. The party left Chicago S r. 'ay night, .-ontinui: g the tri;’ oast. J INSURR6.CI ION AT CRETEThe t 11 speak a bio Turk Displays Hlu I xtinl Atrocity. The ;> A< :. having naval nnd commer.l! I .-, i.-s’s th- Mediterranean are now aux .sly watching the struggle | o h has again recommenced between ■ - Gr—K population of Crete or Candia, . .1 tfter Sicily, Sardinia and Corsica, is I ie laigrot island ifi that sea. ami the । fore** -f its .sovereign, th- sultan of Turkey. The of political itidepen1 dence, or. rather, of eventual annexation 1 ■ o the kingdom of Greece, do not seem I hopeful f-r the Greeks. The Turkish soldiery, by all accounts, j have displayed in this island a remarkable decline of their old military quality, be- : n: <g brigands, in cruel orgies of massacre, outrage and plunder. The new1 I HARBOR OF CANEA, CRETE. ly appointed governor. AMullah Pasha, has failed hitherto, if he has seriously endeavored, to cheek these savage practices. and five European consuls at Canea have jointly protested against them. 1- ■ 1. n the ■••. her hand, thnt murders nnd other nntrn-oc Vr '"" v-Tperrattxf by some bands of Greek insurgents belonging to a rude highland race, and not subject to any discipline or military command. The state of affairs is very different in some districts, and at one end >r side of the island from that which prevails at another. In the town of Canea. a well frequented port on the north coast, a Mussulman mob. supported by the Turkish soldiers, rioted and committed great excesses, killing rhe "kavasses” or chief guards of the Russian and Greek consuls. Notes of Current Events. Henry M. Whitney, the Bocton gas magnate, brother of William C. W'hitney of New York, is seriously ill at his home from an attack of appendicitis. Patriotic Spaniards, living in Argentina, have given a Clyde building firm an order for a cruiser of 4.500 tons to cost silJk•“,! M X’ and to be delivered in eighteen months as a gift to Spain. A wind storm at San Louis, province ( of Santiago de Cuba, has demolished the ] barracks there, killing two guerillas out- j right and burying seven others under th* , ruins. Five persons were killed by electricity. j The Mussulmans have burned 200 ( Chri^ian houses in the village ot Kaho- ( dike, in the province of Selino. Christians as a reprisal are burning the Mus- : sulman villages. Hostilities hare been , resumed in various parts of Selino. *

THE SUNDAY SCHOOL. INTERESTING AND INSTRUCTIVE LESSON. Refl ec .t ionß of an E i evatins Character ^hoi CBomc Food fQr Thoush4 _ Studying the Scriptural Lesson Intelligently a „d Profitably. o 11 for Au «ust 10. heart, O God; and renew a ri-ht sni- t within nae.”_p a 51 . 10 a r ‘° ut B P ,r t This lesson is found in Psalms 32- 1-11 br-wron" ' a ou e. intervenes t*.ween the last lesson and this. After I avid defeated the Syrians at Helam, he Xbamt i t JerUßalem . the rainy season probably being near at hand. The following spring, at the time when kings go orth to battle,” David sent his army under the command of Joab to complete the subjugation of the Ammonites. He himself remained at Jerusalem. Why he did not accompany the army we are not told, but the inference is that it was due to a relaxation of his military spirit and sense of duty; for this was not a trifling expedition. unworthy a king’s attention, aa ia shown by the fact that the entire army was sent. At any rate, David's careless case was the opportunity for temptation to assail him. While the king’s warriors were toiling and sweating before the walls of Rabbah, across the Jordan, the king was making himself as comfortable as possible in his roof garden, as we should call it, trying to keep cool, and amusing himself by observing the household affairs of the dwellers in th- Jo"—r city. A beautiful plebeian, Bathsheba by name, whose husband was one of the “mighty men" of the army—perhaps a member of Joab's staff—pleased the fancy of the royal idler, and she came willingly at his summons nnd participated in his sin. Her soldier husband was brought down to death by the cowardly plot of th? master whom he served, and Bathsheba then became David's wife. Within a year the heart of the king, scourged by remorse and chastened by sorrow, turned once more in prayer to God, and the fiftyfirst psalm was composed. It shows the soul wavering between the despair of conscious and overwhelming guilt and the growing but almost incredible assurance of forgiveness. Peace has not yet come. The spiritual history of David during the next'jieriod of his life can be only conjectured—though other psalms ascribed to him by tradition have sometimes been assigned to this time. But when the prayer of the fifty-first psalm had been granted, when “a clean heart" had. been created within him, and “the joy of thy salvation” had been restored. David broke forth into singing, and sent forth into the world this thirty-second psalm, which has ever since been much on the lips of forgiven men. Leeson Outline. 1. The Blessing of Forgiveness, vs. 1-5. 2. Tiie Blessing of Divine Guidance, vs. G-9. 3. Tlie Joy cf the Righteous, vs. 10. 11. Explanatory. Like all the sentences beginning, “blessed is" in the P?nlms t the sentence i« exclamatory; fft ern 9y, "o the blessings of bim whose trnn>>grM»ion is forgiven."— Notice the three words for win; transgression" is the breaking of divine law; the word translated “sin" means missing a mark, failing to attain an established standard; “iniquity" includes the guilt of the sin. and suggests that it is worthy of punishment. The transgression is ’.‘lifted up and carried away” (translated “forgiven”), the sin is “covered;” and the iniquity is no longer “reckoned to the man's account," but is blotted off the ledger. By this time David knew sin on every side, and in all its phases; but he also knew the wonderful comprehensiveness of the divine forgiveness. “No guile:” since guile is a somewhat indefinite word, it may be necessary to explain to the pupils that it means here “no hypocrisy,” "no pretence to be that which one is not.” Here David lets us see into the depths of his heart; for his own meanness and duplicity, as it had l>een the blackest element ia his sin, remalned the bitterest in his repentance. | Though banished from his heart now, the recollection remains. "My bones waxed old.” in this and the following verse there may be reference to bodily disease, though possibly there is merely strong metaphor for the remorse that David felt before true repentance came to him. "I will instruct thee and teach thee:" this verse is supposed by some commentators to be the utterance of the Lord through David. If so, there is a very abrupt transition, for everywhere else iu the psalm David speaks in his own person. Verses ten and eleven form a conclusion to tbe psalm; verse ten sums up the meaning of the psalm—the two classes of men are. tbe wicked, and they that trust in the Lord. David could include himself in the latter class, though he was not yet ready to call himself righteous. Teaching Hints. Do not make the lesson too general. A good part of the time should be given to the place of this experience in David’s life; only by first bringing out the individual meaning of the psalm can its universal application be vividly presented. If this psalm had been written merely as a general expression of penitence for various minor sins of David’s life, it would never have taken hold on the world as it has. Because it is specific, it meets the need of every forgiven sinner. David's repentance is shown to be a true one by bis eagerness to keep others from the pit into which he has fallen. However young the pupils, it is not too early to impress upon them the central thought of this lesson—confession of sin the gateway to forgiveness and peace. A child’s small falsehood or breach of trust, unconfessed to the parent, may work as serious havoc in his character as David’s great sin; for the child's conscience is more tender. Next Lesson —“Absalom’s Rebellion.—2 Sam. 15: 1-12. The Word of Hope. When, by nobler culture, by purer experience, by breathing the air of a higher duty, vitality at length creeps into the soul, the Instincts of immortality will wake within us. The word of hope will speak to us a language no longer strange. We shall feel like the captive bird carried accidentally to Its own lands, when, bearing for tbe first time the burst of kindred song, it beats Instinctively the bars of Its cage.— James Martineau.