St. Joseph County Independent, Volume 22, Number 43, Walkerton, St. Joseph County, 15 May 1897 — Page 6

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I fit.- __ CHAPTER IX. My jealous disposition at once tooß fire. At Sir Ralph’s statement the old tierce, resentful anger against Yorke seized me. The latter’s silence aggravated my feelings against him. I did not write to him; I could not, even if I had felt so inclined. Os what use would it have been, since he bad left n!y last two letters unanswered and I did not even know his address? A week later Darby and I ami the nurse, with Sir Ralph as courier, started for Aiee. There Sir Ralph rented a pretty villa for us, while lie took up his quarters at the neighboring hotel. There we remained for weeks and months' .le | Darby grew well and strong again. • And all this while I did not hear a word from Yorke. One summer day Sir Ralph took us all out for a sail and while we were drifting along over the blue waters of the Mediterranean confessed his love for me and asked me whether 1 could not return it. His manner in making the proposal was so delicate, so gentle. I fairly began to long that I could find it in my heart to respond in the way he desired. But I could do no more than be silent, and he rightly interpreted that to mean that 1 had no love to give him. “1 might have known it,” he sai l bitterly. "I never meant to tell you: only just now the feeling grew too strong for me. Do not think of it any more. Let us at least be friends.” “Yes " I said eagerly, and finding voice at the same moment as 1 found relief. “We can always be that. I should be so —so sorry if we could not.” After that Sir Ralph busied himself in the management of the boat. Suddenly a storm bore down upon us, one of those fierce, sudden squalls which spring up on the Mediterranean. and I firmly believe but for Sir Ralph’s able seamanship the vessel would have foundered and we should have all been drowned. As it was we weathered the storm, though we landed in a drenched condition. Sir Ralph hurried us to the villa, while he went to the hotel to change his drip- ; ping garments. When we had changed our clothing and I had found, to my great joy, that Darby had suffered no harm from the exposure to the storm, I went down to the parlor, where, to my surprise. I found my father, who had just arrived. He had time not only to pay us a visit, but to inform me that Sir Ralph had t aken up all his debts, and that it was Sir Ralph s money which had enabled us to go to Nice, which kept us there, which had been the means of restoring Darby’s health. “It is his money.” said my father, “and I never knew it—as there is a heaven above me, I never knew it. till—a week ago.” I rose from my chair, pale as a culprit, frightened, trembling, heart sick. “Perhaps,” I said in an odd. suffocated voice, after the silence had lasted some sixty or seventy seconds, “perhaps you can pay back the money soon?” He looked at me with a sort of pitying compassion for my ignorance. “I never can.” he said. “I should be -ruined, or Moorlands would have to be sold.” I felt as if all the blood in my veins had turned to ice. Ruin! The full sense and misery of the word could only reach me in a dim and far-off way; but still the horror of it seemed about me even then as I looked on the bright scene beyond the villa windows—as I saw the luxuries and comforts of the pretty, dainty room. Across my confused and tangled , thoughts my father’s voice broke again: j ■“There is one way—but one—by which i all these troubles might be averted; one । way by which Sir Ralph might become I my debtor instead of my being his. He —he spoke to me of it long ago, before you came here at all. I left it to him and to your—well, to your own good sense, Jo EKI. I looked at him in a sort of stupor. My heart began to beat slowly, painfully, nervously. I knew what was coming now. I waited for the next words as 1 might have waited for the executioner's ax. “I—l suppose he has not spoken yet?” my father continued. “He is diffident, because he thinks you are so much younger than himself. But he is a man worth fifty of the young. foolish dandies of the present day. And he loves you with all rhis great, honest, generous heart. Look at all he has done for your sake! T I ■don't want to force your inclinations. Joan, but I should like to know what you think of the subject. Give it due con «iderat on. and then then tell mo what vout answer would be if f errors asked you to bo his wife."

“W< mid be?" 1 cried bitterly. “T here is i no chance of what it would be now. Ue' ' has asked me. < >h. if I had only known ’ all this yesterday-this morning —a little 1 sooner! Now — it is too late. “Toe later" echoed my father, shopping bis pacing backward and forward, and i comii gto a halt in front of me. "What i do yon mean? Has he asked you al-I readyt" "Y< " “And you ” "I refused him." I answered slowly. I He turned very pale, lie dropped into n chair, and, leaning his arms on tin- tabk . bent his face down on them, and groaned aloud. There came a slight sound at the door. A litt’c white figure stood there a golden halo of damp and tumbled curls : bout her face. She came straight into the room, and, with unerring instinct, went up to him. and laid her hand upon his knee. “Papa,” she said softly, “is it you, papa?" The hands dropped from his f tee. r I he child < ambed * . , hiM knee wstnout fur-

ther word, and leaned her soft cheek against his own. I stole out of the room. The child, perhaps, might comfort him. I could not. CHAPTER X. I went straight up to my room and shut the door: then I fell down on my knees beside the bed and gave myself up to utter despair. For once I put my ill-fated love aside, and looked life and its attendant circumstances fully in the face. When 1 rose from my knees that day I said in my heart: “I will marry Sir Ralph Ferrers to-morrow if only he will ask me again”—and I meant it. The events of the day had unsettled and disturbed me. and every time 1 thought of the generosity and kindness I had so ill ' requited I grew hot with shame ami dismay. Sir Ralph was just the same as ever, to all appearances—courteous, frank, genial—so true a gentleman, so kind a ' friend. I said this to myself again and I again as the meal went oiw as 1 watched the looks, or heard the tones I knew so well, ami had valued o Some stupid constraint had fallen upon me, and I was very taciturn: but Sir Ralph and father did not appear to notice it. When dinner was over I left them, and went out into the grounds. The night was 1 dark with shadows here in the quiet walks j r I paced; the stars glittered in myriads over j the violet waters, and everywhere came the scents of roses and orange blossoms, steeping the air with languid, dreamy odors. It seemed to me as if 1 had never been so keenly conscious of the beauty of the j scene before. The very breath of the ’ wind, the sway of the leaves, and murmur of the sea, touched me in away altogether new ami strange. 1 felt ns if they were parts of a dream, not actual realities. Presently a figure stole out from among the shadows, paused, then came toward me. “Is the child asleep?” ho said abruptly. “I wished to bid her good-bye, fur I must bo off early in the morning." I turned my face to his. I saw bow pale he was. and what a harassed look the kind gray eyes held in their depth*. “You are going tomorrow ?" I echoed stupidly. “Why?” “It is better 1 should be.” he answered slowly. "Your father's affairs 1 must see to them. They they can't be ns had ns he says, and he must not be allowed to sell Moorlands he must not!" My lips began to quiver. 1 looked up at him. “Oh, Sir Ralph." I cried, “how good v -u have been! How much you have done for , us! Father only toid me to-day about about Darby." “1 did nothing nothing." he said itnpa ' tiently. "What is the use of money if one can’t help a friend who’s in a scrape? And what’s the use of my money to me? It can't buy me the affection of a single creature it can't give mi* a home | 1 lis voice < cased abruptly, th« a grew co. i tier. “Forgive me. Joan," he said. "I . did not mean to reproach you." "But I am fond of you,” I burst forth ■ with sudden courage “and grateful. Oh. I you don't know how grateful I am! > .mr generosity shames me. I seem to have I been so selfish, so exacting "Hush!" he said. “If I have been of i any use or comfort to you. that is all I want. I am a lonely man. I wanted something to occupy my thoughts and nf feetion. 1 found it. If there is a little pain behind, that is only my fault: you are not to blame -or or the child." “The child?" 1 faltered. “Yes, 1 know it was for her sake. Ami she loves you ! so. Don't say there is no one "Did I say that ?" he asked gently. "It was wrong and ungrateful, was it not?: Perhaps I should have said "No, do not say it." 1 cried eagerly. "I know what you mean. Oh, if I bad only ; known it before!" "Do von think 1 wanted to bin your love?” he said sternly. “Oh. Joan, how . little you know me! You would make a:o sacrifice for their sakes. lam sure of it. • child; but 1 don’t want a sacrifice. Sime you have learnt the truth. 1 must leave' ; you: for- for my own sake. perhaps. as ; well as yours. 1 know it is hopeless to I expect you to love me even a little ami i 1 am foolish enough to care only for your i love.” “But I don’t know that it is hopeless.” I cried suddenly, with a courage burn of desperation. 1 fear, for I could not bear the idea of losing him out of my life now . He seized my hands and drew me out of the shadows into the pale, sweet glow of moonlight, and looked down at tuy fm e with earnest, searching eyes “Child,” he said, “if 1 know you at all, I know’ you would not trifle with any man's honest love. Do you know what your words imply? If if is not folly to you. is ft—anything else?” “Yes.” I said, gravely, “a great and noble gift, of which I am not worthy.” “But which you will accept; is that it. Joan?” 1 “Yes." T answered. lifting mv evc« f,> I his. ami wondering not a little at the rap- | i swept away every line of age by the ■ magic of happiness, “and value as I have I I never valued anything in all my life be- I

“Muy heaven bless you tor those words." he said, and bent and kissed my brow with reverent and most tender touch. “\nd the love will that come, too?” "If I were not sure of that T would never be your wife.” I answered. “I believe you," lie said. "And remember. Joan.” lie added, solemnly. "I trust you with all my heart with all my soul." “I will remember," 1 said. And afar off, like a sob. the waters j seemed to echo my words, as they rose and fell in the quiet night, against the quiet shore. A month later we were married. <tiapti:k xi. "I never naw anything so lovely in the whole course of my life'." "Von have made that remark a good many times, my dear,” says my husband's voice. "Uut I pardon its repetition here. This place is an earthly paradise.” I am standing, or rather we are both ■ standing, on the phtferm of the railway ■ station at Salzburg. There is a pile of

baggage beside us; txere are polite officials suggesting the various excellences of their respective hotels; there is my particular maid a little distance off. and there is Darby, with meek and wondering face, listening to my raptures. For Darby, who could not bear to be separated from me, had at my husband's own request, accompanied us. Presently we were at the hotel, and I am shown into a room all white lace, and dainty furniture, and with a balcony be- । yond the window, from which 1 behold a perfect panorama of loveliness. The suit is just sinking behind the highest of the mountain peaks—it is the Gaisberg, 1 learn afterwards. The rich, soft air seems like a breath of purer life, and as I stand and gaze, the river and valley fade into paler tints, and the trees stand black as • shadows against the rose hues of the sky. “One is glad of life at such a time,” I say at last, and 1 draw the child closer to my side, and tell her in low, hushed tones of those wonderful heights with their crowns of snow that reach far, far up to heaven, of how the < lear stars leap into the violet dusk of the sky, of the waters that grow so dark as the spell of night creeps onward, ami how one by one the distant lamps gleam out through trees and avenues, ami shine down into the river. “1 can see it all,” says the child, as I cease speaking "How beautiful it must be. Jo! 1 can hear the river quite dis^. tiuctly about the whole place.” j "It seems the only thing that has lifej® motion,” 1 answer dreamily. “ThetYaW Hueh a seuc* »f •UUiuvss ami rest folueMa abm* the whole place.” "How accurately you have demerits"'® it.” says a voice close at hand a that makes mi' start as if. indeed, the dead! had found me here in this faint dusk, al i voice remembered as only pain remem-! bers; and cold, and sick, and trembling,^ turn,"and beside me. on the adjoining bal- ’ cony, 1 see Yorke Ferrers. For si moment 1 do not speak. No word not even the commonest form of greeting will my lips frame. I only stand as if turned to stone, and gaze at the face before me with eyes that must surely speak the terror of my heart. He bends a little nearer. I have some dim. confused idea that he puts out his hand, but 1 do not touch it. I draw further and further awaj a sort of horror seizes me. 1 feel as if 1 hated him bated him because he stands there, •alm. smiling. composed; nnd I what agony has me in its grip as 1 lean agamat the cold stone balustrade, tongue tied, paralyzed, by the shock of this strange meeting! Darby’s voice rouse* me. Darby it is who runs f<>rw ard and clasps the hands that to mb are ns the bands of a murderer. “It is Yorke." she cries gladly, “It i« Yorke, and here. to«'! How lunuy! Did you know we were here?” “No," h> *aj - “1 did not know." "Why don’t you speak to him, Joan?” the child goes on. " \rv you not glad p I see him? You were s > fond of him ome. 1 Was she not. Yorke'" “Yes," lie say*, iti in odd, > "bl im-e. ■“I think she «>- fond of me <»n< <• Hui i that was a long time ago. Darby a long i time ago!" Then something give* me strength, an I 1 stand up i .ilm . -■ i. * 'O. t ? ig'i p•. i, *«-ems draining the very life bhesi from. । my heart. I ■ "I was too suipn-..- !to p. tk to vmf *, | .ire like the radisut sunset I have I cd. “How how diil you come fieri j “By train, from Y ienna." he “May I ask the same question of ■ I Or shall I waive eiTvimmy. ami say at? | mice, why have you n< wr answered ! letters?” "Your leiter* I g i-. "What fi tters| “Those I wrote before leaving lemdelt. and again from Boulogne," he sn* * "I grew sick of it a! last. A »ne sidist cor resiMHidenrc Ims few charms at the b- »t of times. It e< rtainly pv**» ss<-,j n<me for I me." “Your letter*?" I repeat. “Why. I j never had one after last July. Never. ! though I wrote to you again and again • though 1 beggi-l and praytsl for one wond I to say you had not forgot ten." ! "1 never forget." he says in the same . hard, stnmgeway "never. I’ is my mi* | fortune to have a fatal memorj There ; is something odd about this. I can t un : derstand it.” "But I can." I cry with a sudden pasi siou of wrath .iml indignatson. “You are ' not telling me the truth you can't be. Why did you g> awa> w ith that woman'! j If if you had loved me as you said, you could never have done that never! And as for letters. 1 had none. And all thest months 1 have waited and w aited in vain! < lh." I ery in sudden despair, as I wring my hands together, “what does it all mean?" (To be continued.l A Discovery. one of Washington's scientific men found himself in an assemblage where there were a great many young fieople. lie endeavored to rise. or. perhaps, to descend, to the occasion as gracefully as possible. Having been introduced to a number of young women, he tried to make himself agreeable by explaining some of the latest information in ethnology, and he became so absorbed in his discourse that he did not notice, until they were nearly nil gone, that a youth v th a n isal voire was wVMMt | archaeology as tin theme A girl with In banjo wrecked his ambitions. He thought he was making some headway by means of Uis remarks <>n paleontol-

ogy. when a man who look a rabbit out of a silk hat eternally quenched his pride. "My dear." he said to his wife, on their way ho ne. "I have been thinking it over, and I timl that the evening has been far fHim wasted." "1 was very much afraid that you would feel very' differently- about it.” "No: I have made a very important , and interesting discovery. The merest , accidents so lietimes lead to the most surprising revelations, and to-night I learned something which completely overturns an accepted theory." “Is it possible?" “Wo have been led to believe that the chief of all forces is the attraction of ' gravity.” •■Yes." ••Weil, I have found out to-night (| there are times when it can't hold a , candle to tie attraction of levity.”— f Washington Star.

CHANGES IiTtARIFF. DINGLEY MEASURE HAS BEEN REMODELED. The Senate Committee Brings In a Report Showing Many Modifications in the Honss Bill—Will Not Be Retroactive. Measure hr Amended. Thetariff bill, as reportwl by the Senate Committee on Finance Tuesday, is a very different measure from that which passed the House, and the members of the committee intend to make still further amendments as soon as they have time to pre- ! pare them. Among these will be a broad reciprocity clause as a substitute for that i which appears in the Homu' bill. The ' duty on tea and the additional tax on beer are intended to be temporary, and for the purpo»(> of raising revenue. Senator Aldrich presented the bill to the Senate. The time for the bill to take effect is made July 1, ISU7, instead of May . 1, as provided in the House. The sugar sehisiule *s Wtllolly rewritten in the inter est of the trust. The word bituminous is s fri. keu out and all coni made dutiable nt cents per ton. with a proviso added | that the duty on coal and shale shall be (JO scents per lon, and on «>>ii 1 slack, or eulma. cents per ton, when inqiorti'd from any I country, colony or dq^Bden.-y that does I not impose upon coal or coal slack or culi ma higher rates of duty than those nanuM in this proviso. The Senate has increased the internal ' revenue duty on Ihst by changing section | of the revised statutes to read as fol- I I lows: - Fntll Jan. 1. P.MM), there shall be paid on al! beer, lager beer. ale. porter, and other I similar fermentisl liquors, brewed or nianu- j factored and sold or removed for constitup- ; tlon or sale within the Fniteil States, by ' whatever name such liquors may lie cnlhsl, i a tax of >l4-1 for . very barrel containing not more than 31 gallons: and after Jan 1. ' 1900, there shall In- paid a tax of $1 per barrel on every barrel of such tw'er. lager beer, ale. porter, and other similar fermented liquors. The prem'tit rate is sl. The Mnia.-nve clause of the P-ngley tariff Mil is stricken from the Senate hill. [ The entire House provision relating to re- j cipmcity ha* been stricken out and the following section substituted: That whenever any < nintrr. dependen.-y or otfimy «hall pay or bestow, directly or Indirectly, any bounty or grant noon the exporratlon of any article >r merchandise from such eitmtry, dependem'y. or colony, and such article or merchandise !. dutiable under the provisions of this a> t. then, upon the im|s»rts'l<-n of any «",di artb or mereli.adb" Int" the Vnltnl States, whether the wiiiie shall l»e lmp'rt.*l directly from the ermutry of pr «ltfct|on r otherwise and whether such article or merchandise Is lm- j ported in the condition a« whm exparted from the country <»f production, or been changed in -st litt.m tu manufac I tnre or »»?b«»rwise. there shall he levied and I Mid in all such • <«’«. In addition tn the j duties .itbrtviw imposed b? this net. an nd dltmnsl dmr the net amount of such Imunty or grsnt. however the same lu» paid or bestowed Th«- net amount of nil > tmuntles or <-i q. termltied. nml de | S r»-d t-y the He. re tarv ->f the Treasury who «ha make all mw»lfn! rvgulaUmis t't the Id-utltt-a’ion "f s.i.-h ,j. ■ . -,d - -■>>d .■ >• i r o asmMwient and e«d!«'Ction d »mh addtMiouai diitios. PI The Houw pn-v.-ton m the ’triff bill | keeping in force the ll >'ir ‘ r«' iprocity | the same duty Ha**k isn sugars as is ’ ThTprorts.-m In the House M; on d;« ■ I Jtili aim*, handing ginger win. or git, I ins- 14 p.-r cent or <>■« us atw .lute «!• diol. 3i* cent" per galton if containing more than 14 per cent of absolute alwlnd, ."SI cents per rS^JtGea’^^-nt^ more than one quart, and mor- than one pint, or 24 bottles or Jugs wutalnlng each tmt mow than one pint, St per <n»e. and any excess bey>»tid the«e qmtotl:l< < fmind in ■ueh buttle* or jugs shall iw subject to a duty of 5 cents per pint or fractional part there.J. but no sej.ara'e »r additional duty shall be a.SM-*««il on the bottles .r Jugs; pro vlded. that any wines, ginger cordial, or vermuth laiported containing more than 24 p«-r cent, of aleuho; shall he < ias'- d is spirits, «nd pay duty accordingly And provliled further, that there shall be no constructive or other allowance for breakage, leakage, or damage on wines liquors, cordtaU. or distilled spirits. Wines, cordials, brandy and other spirituous liquors, in -ludIng bitters of ail kinds, and bay rum, or bay water. Imported In bottles or Jugs, shall be packmi In packages < ontaining not less than one dozen bottles or Jugs in each package, or duty shall be paid as If sm-h package contained at least "tie dozen lottle* or Jugs, and al! auch bottles <»r Jug* shall, unless otherwise specially pmvid»'l for In this act. pay an additional duty of 3 cents for each Little or jug. The percentage of alcohol in wines and fruit juices shall be determined In such manner as the Secretary of the Treasury shall by regulation prescribe Lumber and Wool Changes. The lumber schedule is changed by adding after the word timber the words “Hewn, sided, or squared and round timber," ami the duty fixed at the rate of 1 cent per cubic foot an in the House bill. The rate of $2 per ton on all *awed boards, etc., is rctaimul, but when planed E’ fside. the additional rate is mud. d of o*i cents per fee: b a: t re: when planed, t and ggyovexl the ad. n' ; Cfiß-s per 1 JHf t'-t b .rd ; if plane.l on two- ... ■ j Mfrq grooved 51.05 p-r !.’«»•» instead of k House proviso for an additional I 25 per cent ad valorem upon lum- * pWnnporttsi from any foreign country vvimposes an export duty is changed toadd the amount of the export duty inFtead of any fixed sum. Many and important changes were made in the wool and woolen schedule. First-class wools were r.slueed from 11 cettts wr jound, as provided in the House i bilk to 8 cents per pound, and second-class ; wools from 12 to 9 cents, whereas the duties on wools of the third class were raised. ] The dividing lino in this latter class was placed at 1G cents value, wools under that . value being made dutiable at the rate of 4 cents per pound instead of 32 per eeiit ! ad valorem, as in the House bill 1 M’ools valu.sl at more than I<> cents per I pound were plac'd at 7 cents per jx.iiud .■ I instead of 50 per cent mi valorem. The wool growers failed to st>cure all the changes they desired in ckcsificitbin. but it is understood that the rites fixed on the wools themselves are s । (isfnetory to them. Tin* steamlittors' strike in New rk । has boon adjusted by th. concession of a 2-> per cent in. reas ■ in th.' daily wago scale by the master stoamfitters. Myron T. M. <.'ord will probably be nominated as Governor of Ar-.w^x

THE SUNDAY SCHOOL. INTERESTING AND INSTRUCTIVE LESSON. Reflections of an Elevating Character —Wholesome Food for ThoughtStudying the Scriptural Lesson Intelligently and Profitably. Lesson for May 16, Golden Text.—“l have set thee to be a light of the Gentiles.” —Acts 13: 47. Paul Preaching to the Gentiles is the subject of this lesson—Acts 14: 11-23. As this lesson is the last one upon Paul's first missionary journey, it should be taught so as to give a connected outline of that journey, which is very simple to remember—A ntioch to Syria, Cyprus, Perga, Antioch to Pisidia, Iconium, Lystra, Derbe. back again over the same route to Attalia, thence back to Antioch of Syria, The time occupied in this journey is not definitely stated, but could not wels have been much less than two years or more than three. The journey began, ; probably, in 45. and Paul may have returned to Antioch late in 47, leaving two years (“no little time.” 14: 28) of residence there before rhe council at Jerusa-

lem in 50. Th.' whole «.*ction from 13: 44 to 14: 28 ! slurnJd !«• studied, with a map. tracing the course of Paul and Barnabas and learning as much as possible from any of the books rt'commended. about the cities and j countries mentioned. We left the apostle [ hist week at Antioch, preaching to the Jews there. His want of success among I them led to his turning to the Gentiles of the city (1.3: 4(>). This ministry lasted some ’ onsiderable time, for “the word of j the Lord was published throughout all the ' region" 113: 49). Ramsay estimates their stay at from two to six months from August to the beginning or middle of winter. ; Then the Jews raised p»?rsecntion against ' them, and they departed to Iconium. the modern Konieh, a city about sixty miles southeast of Antim h, where they carried on a successful ministry among both Jews ami Gentiles for a "long time” (14: 3), which may be estimated at throe to six months. Here an attempt was made to stone them and they went to Lystra. a i city of I.ycaonia. south of Iconium, where the events of this lesson took place. The occasion of the popular excitement with which tfic lesson passage begins was the healing of a lame man. related in vs. 8-10. Ex planntory. “In the speech of Lycaonia": what this language was. whether a corruption of Greek or some Eastern dialect, we do not know. The question how Paul was able t<» pn aeh to them in their native tongue, unless by a miracle, has not been satisf:i< t,-n!y answered, and it is supposed by many that the j»eoplc would umlerstaml a ’otic Gris-k “The god* are “ome down to u* in the likeness of men": those familiar with ■ ! I-,* । al hieratnre will remember !>• o -rv of Jnpit' r and Mercury visiting •h- p- - B oe s and Fhilcnion. as rei' -d by Hawth-'-ne in hi* “Tanglewood roe " “ T' ; , u< d couple entertained their strange visitor* ss well ax they could on simple fare, and were splendidly n .vard-•-J Tlii- jH-.-ple of the interior of Asia Minor were (ar from being 'he cynical that the Romans were, and still Hem e ifiey «>■;. quite ready t" believe, | ! under the nfl'Hue e of ex. i:,-ment. that the oi l s’ on .st Item- - and Philenmn was be rep. At.si They formed in proces-"h-.iititig i .id, "The gods have come down to ll* :n the likeness of men." There w is no he-ctation in the minds >! the apostles no thought of gaining a temporary pow.-r over the p.^ple by enmragmg 'he delusion and then leading rhem gradually to a knowledge of the true God. They knew that truth does not travel in the shoes of a lie. It is to the credit of our early foreign missionaries that in similar < ircumstanecs they never 1 took advantage of their superior wisdom to deceive the ignorant people to whom they were sent. How maliciously the Jews pursued Paul and Barnabas from place to place, as if j they were dangerous men or criminals in- ! st.-iid of peaceable preachers of righteousn.'ss. Their task was an easy one, for the tickle ;s ople were just as ready to lis PH to one side as the other. This stoning of Paul he mentions in 2 Cor. 11: 25 i among the various pains and hardships he hud endiired for the sake of * hrist. It was a most severe punishment, the stones being large, and usually resulted in death either immediate or ultimate. The rest of the journey, so briefly told, must have covered several months. Paul would not have returned immediately to Lystra. for he was not lacking in ordinary prudence; he probably spent some time in Derbe. where no opposition is recorded. The return journey, "confirming the souls of the disciples.” must have been a trying one. but resulted in splendid fruit. It ' may be mentioned again that according to i Ramsay these churches were th<* Galatian churches to whic । Paul later wrote ..•i ’-ikUi-vrr is id*! hi’M by int<*rprrw, -ai'i from vs. that b-sid.* , .uir.iging the .lisciple*. Paid began the e>4 -r*. or pr.-sby ters. " l'he elders in the official sense of the term, were those appointed in the first churches to watch over their general discipline and welfare. The sudden changes from popularity to the reverse in Paul’s life are strikingly similar to those of Christ himself. He knew how to be abased, and how to I abound, ami never complained. From this ' time, even more definitely than before, Paul's work was with the Gentiles. He showed marvelous adaptation to their : modes of thought, and it is shown by the i fragments of his addresses in Acts and in I his epistles; vet the gospel which he pr 'ached, though not a Jewish gospel, was in no respect toned down or weaken.*l to please Greeks and Galatians. It i was the message which ho had received ’ from Christ, and was universal. Next Losson “The (’onfen uco Jt Jeru-I ; salem." Acts L»: I •>, Ibdfinan’s < 'atholic I >ire. tor, 1597 show* that in the Vnited States there are 11 archbishops ami 74 bisli1 ops. with 10.7.-.2 eleray. Il.lbo ehut hes. ■ 51S stations iml chapels ami a ( '.h'h'Pc j population ->1 9.59 G. 127. Thenj. re 3.438 I parochial schools, a gain <>l i>, and ■ m I tiniul'cr of children in all oud.iti< < 41... Gil There ar-' 9 universities. 219 or- ’ 'dian asylums ami sss clmrintbb in- ■ cuholm Institutions 947.940

BLOW TO MONROEISM. BRITAIN'S RECOGNITION OF THE DOCTRINE MAY END. Salisbury Now Has an Easy Way Ont— Senators Spurn Overtures of Arbitra-tion-Opposition Accuse England of Having Sinister Designs on America. Don’t Want Peace, England's supposed recognition of the Monroe doctrine falls with the failure of the arbitration treaty. Having lost this ehanee to fix Monroeism as an international principle, the I’nited States may some day be compelled to fight for it or abandon it. 'l'he compact, says a Washington correspondent, was the outgrowth of the stand taken by the I’nited States as to Venezuela, and, as the bargain was not fulfilled, England is not committed to the theory of American rule in America. After changing, disfiguring and invalidating the arbitration treaty until out of all semblance to the pact us it came from the hands of Olney and Pauncefote, the Senate kicked its own hybrid out of doors. By a vote of 43 to 2G the treaty was lost. The rules of the Senate require a majority

of two-thirds for the ratification of trea tie*. Hence four more affirmative votes would have l><s-n required to secure a favorable result. The vote in detail was: Yeas Allison, Bacon, Burrows, Caffrey, ('lay, Cullom, Davis, Deboe. Fairbanks, Faulkner. Foraker. Frye, Gallinger, (b'ar. Gray. Hale, Hanan, Hawley, Hoar, Lindsay, I.vdge, .Mcßride, McEnery, McMillan, Mitchell, Morrill, Nelson, Pascoe, Perkins, Piatt of Connecticut, Platt of New York. Pritchard, Proctor, Smith. Spooner, Thurston, Turpie, Vest, Walthall, Warren, Wellington, Wetmore, Wilson—43. Nays - Baker, Bate, Butler, Carter, Cockrell, Daniel, Hansbrough, Harris of Kansas, Harris of Tennessee, Heitfeld, Jones of Arkansas, Jones of Nevada, Kyle, Martin. Mason, Mills, Morgan, Penrose, Pettigrew, Pettus, Quay, Rawlins. Roach, Shoup, Stewart, White —2G. The total vote cast was sixty-nine, leaving nineteen Senators who did not respond. The pairs were as follows, two affirmative Senators being paired with one negative Senator in most instances: Chandler and Clark for. with Teller against. Tillman and Turner for, with Chilton against. Sewell and Earle for, with Mantle against. Senator George was paired for the treaty and Senator Berry against it. Pairs not announced for. were the following Aldrich, Cannon, Elkins, Gorman, Murphy, Wolcott, Kenney and Allen. The vote was preceded by a short, spirited debate, introduced by Mills, who made i strong appeal to the Senate against ratifying tin' agreement. He asserted that as amended the document was most objectionable, not to say contradictory in its term*. He pointed out especially the provisions for the settlement of the controversies in regard to territorial claims and asserted that whereas the amendments adopted by the Semite to the first article <>f the treaty dialaHMl against ! their inclusion, those to the sixth and ■ < articles made a provision for them. IL' he’d that as long as these articles remained unchanged England justly would claim that its questions of territorial rights wer.'still included within the scope of the treaty. Ender such circumstances, he ask**!, what was to prevent England from purchasing the island of Cuba or any other American territory, and in case of objection on the part of the I’nited States insisting upon reference of the dispute to arbitration. He spoke of the conduct of Englund in connection with the GrecoTurkish war and implored the Senate to proie<-t the I nited States against the proposed alliance. PHARSALOS IS FALLEN. Greeks Run Away Again and Leave the Town to Moslems. Pharsalos has been taken by the Turks. The Greeks.have run away, in spite of the fact that they apparently had won the biggest battle of the war. Athens is in a turmoil again, and clamoring for Raili to ask the powers to interfere. The desertion of Pharsalos by the Greeks is considered remarkable. The Turkish army was mowed down by the destructive fire of the Hellenic troops. Thousands of Moslems were slaughtered, and every dispatch indicated that the Sultan's soldiers were in a trap. Now comes the startling information that in the face of triumph the Greeks have abandoned the town and fled to Dokomos. thirteen miles south of Pharsalos. In an interviexx - Grumbkoff Pasha, the German officer who reorganized the Turkish artillery and who entered Larissa at the head of the Turkish troops, dwells upon the splendid conduct of the Turks, and says the capture of Larissa did not < 2>ntinuing. <»rumbkofT tin" w.irks constructed by Urf -k engineers of I.arissa are deserving “f ill jiraise. and I th a; n ; o.s .o understand why they were abandoned. The Turkish army in the field, he further remarks, is one of the finest Turkey ever possessed, and that no praise is too great for both soldiers and officers. Grumbkoff Pasha gives many instances of the self-sacrifice and enthusiasm animating the Turkish troops. In regard tothe Greeks the general asserts that both 9 officers and men were seized with panic and that great numbers of Greeks, in the face of the enemy, stripped themselves of their uniforms, donned civilian clothing and beseeched the Turks to spare their lives. The Turks treat'd all their prisoners and wounded with the greatest care. Lieut. Eloff. grandson of President Kruger of the Transvaal, who has be<'u suspended and tried for insulting language against Queen \’i«-toria, has been I reinstated and appointed. I The first regular mail service antboriz- ( q j,, r ■] । eut;r*' ■ i” n Alaska has been I contracted fc’ by the Pustoffice DepartI inent the service being from Jum iu *o I C’irde i itv. ‘MM) mih s »Qi' b way. Tho contract rails fvr on* 1 - r- ind trip ’ month, | beginning July 1. 1897? Wil am F SalM<w' the busiiv ,'ortion of Bradner. a tillage near Post' ria. (>.. osjlostHped b) tire. 1- • stimated :r •S'W,(mhi. Due woman died ot heart disease as j the result of <■ a.” ".J • ..'itemeuL