St. Joseph County Independent, Volume 22, Number 48, Walkerton, St. Joseph County, 19 June 1897 — Page 2

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i*®*’saszS '^^wWwF «/ / EI ■/W '^Swl^li J 'M - w . W Bl? ?i ’ -w®? l T.' Kri*iA n?:••? )| h •-W's ’2* KmA ^f9* i ah * A / * I r Mfr ' ’ * r CHAPTER^^IfI f placed ^y^nd I’ . ...^ “Well, I jns^j^-mott MO? /Cfa^ e to iw UOue, u..u I Ms I S ca! fatigue prevented <iG<7 SuiUi^ thankful for the weariness. .. «H me «o pale and listless and worn, since my brain grew less active by reason of that very weariness. Tn the warm summer days the feelings of lassitude and fatigue grew greater — the hours for which Darby served as excuse were generally spent by me lying on the sofa in utter prostration of mind and body. Now and then Sir Ralph looked pt me anxiously. “Are yon not doing too much?" he would say; but I only laughed, and affirmed afresh my enjoyment and my strength. It seemed to me that I could not give up . Bad as this life ■was, the othir would be ten thousand times worse. In August we went back to Monk’s Hall. I was glad to be home once more, glad to see the old familiar places, glad to run over to Templeton and hear of my father’s literary successes; glad, but yet with little of the old gladness, to gather the boys around me once again, from school and college, and hear the merry voices, and listen to the chaff and bullying and tormenting that still were part and parcel of themselves. They left at last, and then some male visitors came, and among them Yorke Ferrers. Sir Ralph had suggested it, and I had listlessly agreed. Nettie, of course, came over, too, and the September days brought the unfailing dogs and guns and game-bags. I had opportunity for rest then. The strain and tax of entertaining were lifted off my mind, and no one, even Nettie, knew that half my days were passed lying passively in my dressing room, too weary even to read or speak. I am wrong, though. Some one else knew. It was Mrs. March. She had found me in this listless fashion so many times that at last she remarked it. and 1 excused myself by saying that the fatigues of the season had been too much for me, and that 1 only wanted rest. The very day afterwards 1 was surprised by Nettie bringing her visit to an abrupt end. The usual plea was given—her grandmother’s wish. I did not combat it. I remembered afterwards that Mrs. March had been in the room when Nettie spoke, and as I made that remark she half turned and flashed a sftange, eager look in her direction. When I was once more alone, she fidgeted about the room on one excuse or another, asking me perfectly unnecessary questions, arranging things that wanted no arrangement, until I grew somewhat impatient. “Will you excuse me, my lady,” she said abruptly, “if —if I venture to ask you a question? Is Miss Croft engaged?” “I don't see how Miss Croft’s affairs can possibly interest you,” I said coldly, and took up a book to show that I did not mean to discuss the subject. She said no more, but left the room. “Joan,” said Darby, a few moments afterward, creeping up to my side, “1 don’t like Mrs. March. I have always had a feeling that she is not safe.” “Not safe, dear?” I said in surprise. “What do you mean?” She shook her head. “I—l can’t tell more than that. She doesn’t like you, and she is so often with Sir Ralph. I have heard the servants say so.” “You mustn't listen to servants’ gossip,” I said coldly. “And what does it matter whether she likes me or not as long as she does her duty?” “I wish,” the child persisted, “you could send her away, Jo. I have been thinking that, ever since she came, you have changed. And why does Sir Ralph never come to us as he used to do? And oh, Jo —dear Jo! why are you always so unhappy ?” “Unhappy!” I said. “What makes you fancy that? Only low-spirited and tired, dear T think Tam not as— as strong as I used to be.” “You used to bo strong.” she said wistfully; “nothing ever tired you once. Don't you," she added suddenly, “don’t you like being married?” I tried to laugh. T think it surprised me a little that the laugh ended in a sob, and that the incisive question brought

tears to my eyes. “I am very weak and foolish,” I said [hurriedly. “It is my own fault that I am not as—as happy as I might be.” There came a knock at my door at that moment, and the next instant it opened at my permission and admitted Yorke Ferrers. “Is —is Nettie here?” he asked. Then his eyes rested on my agitated face, and his own changed suddenly. He closed the door and came into the room. •“Nettie is packing,” I said, calmly. “You know she is leaving this morning?” “Yrs,” he said. “I am going to drive her over. I wanted to know what time she would want the carriage.” “I will ask her,” said Darby, eagerly, and clipped away from my side, and was out of the room in a moment. Yorke stood by the fireplace, idly fingering t'he ornaments and figures on the ma utelboard. j had risen from the couch, but now reseated myself. It was a long, long time since we had had a tete-a-tete. We had heeu conventional and friendly for so long that I felt no dread or embarrassment in ■his presence. Presently he raised his head. He did ®ot look at me, but straight into the iglass before him. He could see my face ilhure.

“Joan,” he said, abruptly, “how did you come to engage that woman as housekeeper ?” CHAPTER XXJII. I was so staggered by the unexpected question that I could find for a moment no words to answer it. “I did not engage her at all,” I said at last. “It was Sir Ralph.” Then he turned and looked at me, and something in his face sent the blood flying to my own. “Oh!” he said significantly. “Perhaps that accounts for it!” “Accounts for what?” I faltered. “For her familiarity,” he said, “and the correspondence.” “Correspondence!” I gasped, turning cold and faint, moments ago me in one of the <, "- ; dors. She , . is passing me in one of the eer^jHl^^Tror a housekeeper she seems a singularly übiquitous person. But to return. As she passed me her dress brushed against me; she hurried into one of the rooms, and I—half curiously—looked back. As I did so, I saw lying on the carpet a white square packet. 1 walked back and picked it up. Here” —and he took something from his pocket and handed it to me—“here it is.” I looked at it. It was a letter, directed to Sir Ralph. For a moment I stared stupidly at the packet, turning it round and round. Then I looked up. “This,” 1 said, “is not her writing.” “She dropped it —that I swear!” he cried, impetuously. “Even if it is not, what business has she with your bus- ■ band’s letter?" “I will ask him," I said, calmly, rising and putting the letter on a table close beside me. “I can’t say,” I continued, “that I ever liked Mrs. March; but Sir Ralph spoke of her as a lady in distress, and well connected, 1 believe. As far as the performance of her duties goes, she is admirable, and it seems foolish to harbor prej udices.” “I think,” ho said, dryly, “in this case prejudices are excusable." I was silent. I felt deeply annoyed that Yorke, of all people, should discover a flaw in my husband’s perfections, but, even at this time, my trust refused to be shaken. I felt convinced that explanation would be easy to him, however impossible it might look to me. / Yorke made a little impatient movement as Darby returned. I rose and brought out the child's lesson books. “I must ask you to leave us now,” 1 said. “Duty has to be attended to sometimes." He left the room silently. The child took her books and sat down on her own low stool, and began to read the strange raised letters as fluently as if she could see the characters she had learned to trace by touch. I paid no heed to her. My eyes turned persistently to that letter, and I wondered if Sir Ralph would tell me its contents. 1 kept Darby with me till close upon luncheon time. 1 knew Sir Ralph would be’home then, ami at last I sent her with a message, requesting him to come to me in the boudoir. He came soon after. 1 saw how surprised he looked, but I merely rose, and took the letter and handed it to him. “It dropped out of the housekeeper's pocket,” I said. “It does not look to mo like her writing. If if it is, 1 should like to know what she has to write to you that she cannot say to me.” He looked perplexed. He turned the letter over and over as 1 had done. Then he tore its envelope ami began to read. It was a very brief communication, so brief that one rapid glance seemed to take it in; but a dark flush rose to his brow, ami he crushed the paper in his strong grasp. Then he turned to me, as, pale ami trembling, I stood there. “I will do you the justice,” he said, “to suppose you were ignorant of the contents of this —production. But at all events, yon shall judge for yourself of the result.” He rang the bell. The footman answered it. “Ask Mrs. March to come here,” he said. I clasped my hands with sudden joy. “Oh," I cried, “I hope you are going to send her away. 1 have always disliked her.” He looked at. me with such a flame of anger in his eyes as I had never dreamed could light their kindly depths. “Have you?” he said. “Perhaps you had good cause.” Then the door opened, and Mrs. March entered. As her eyes fell on us both she started, and the color left her cheeks. Sir Ralph motioned to her to close the door and come forward. Thon ho drew himself up. Not even the anger of his face could detract from its dignity. “Mrs. March,” he said. "I Deceived you into this house less as a dependent than a friend. I had learned the circumstances which had weighted your life with trouble, and when you pleaded with me I lis-

tened only too readily. Since you have been here I can safely affirm that you have met with nothing but kindness and consideration from Eady Ferrers as well as from myself. I simply put the facts to you as they stand. Now I will ask you how you have repaid me? I could see from the first that you did not like my wife, but I did not see also that the hints and insinuations and misrepresentations so often made to me were based upon dislike. I am not a clever man where women are concerned. I don't pretend to understand them. But now things have reached a climax. «Whnt do you mean by writing me this letter?" He held it out as he spoke—held it so that she could see for herself the writing and contents. As I watched her, I saw her whole face change, her lips draw themselves into a thin, white Jine; the look in her eyes was the look of a tigerish aifd relentless spirit. “It is not my writing,” she hissed; “though”—with a short laugh—“no doubt what it says is true enough!” “Anonymous letters,” said Sir Ralph scornfully, “should be treated like the ugly reptiles they are.” He tossed the paper into the flame as he spoke, then once again turned to the white-faced woman, whose flaming eyes had watched his movements. “You have made an enemy of me.” he

eaid, ‘instead of a friend. You won year way hither by false pretenses, and you have for all these months worked and schemed for but one end. You appear to forget that in questioning my wife’s honor you also question mine, and I know perfectly well how' to preserve that. I think,” he wont on hotly, “it is unnecessary to say any more. You will make your arrangements to leave my house this evening, and you will receive your salary up to date, or, if you insist upon it, for the quarter due in place of the usual notice.” She drew herself up; the color came slowly back to her face. “As a lady,” she said, “I repudiate any such course. I don't want your money. And permit me to tell you that you have no proof that I wrote that letter, no right to accuse me of doing so. If I choose, I can make you prove your assertion, and drag your own and your wife’s name through the mire of a worse scandal than you suspect.” "I think,” he said calmly, “you may do your worst. But as I do not care Vo listen to throats, allow me to conclude thia interview. You will leave here’to-night/ 1 ’ He opened the door. She turned awW> flashing one viperish, malignant glaflice at me. "Your time is coming, my lady,” ape said. "Your lover will cost you .c^d^r as he has cost others, brave it how 111 ft J ”■»- u |IL White as death, panting like ti^ti^d hare, I sank back in my seat, my e turned in faint appeal to Sir Ralph’s f JU He came and stood a short distance from me; but I shuddered as 1 met tfiat stern, rebuking look. I have done this,” he said, “for your sake; but do not fancy I am deceived. A hundred things have sprung to light and recollection. Had you been honest with me from the first, 1 would never have married you. I thought you came to jne heart-whole, and all the time—all these years—it has been a lie —a lie you have acted more or less indifferet^ly. I loved you so, and not once—not once—have you been my wife in heart. Do not speak." as I uttered some faint disclaimer. "For heaven's sake, do not perjure yourself more! I have tried to believe in you, even through all this last most miserable year, but from to-day it seems impossible, it is no longw a thing I know and hold to myself; it. has passed into the keeping of others." “Indeed," I t^aid, weeping, “you wrong me! It is hard to visit a girlish error upon me now. I have done my duty to you in every sense of the word. Long, long ago 1 repented that folly.” “You may have repented it," he said, sternly, "but that did not prevent your indulging in it still. Your blushes, your agitation, your very looks and health, all speak to me now as so many proofs of what I have been blind to so long.” "W by do you b.ame mo?" I cried, in momentary indignation at his injustice. "Why, if yon suspected all this, did you throw us together invite him here, make it so so much harder? Ami why don't you speak to him? It is not fair to lay the blame on my shoulders. It is"---break-ing down again with a childish sob “it is too much for mo to bear.” "M ould you have mo put my shame into words?'' he asked passionately. m;. self the butt of his rklhmle? D.Aou know me so little, that you nsk it? lAnx! heaven, don’t you know can't there lire things that if a man wCfo to speak of. he could not live by his wfc's -ide another hour? Could I be guilty of the dishonor of hinting to your- your lover - that 1 know him to bo so unless proof and confirmation were at hand?— and that." turning away, with a short, bitter laugh, “that you have managed to hide very skillfully." His words stung me to the quick. Fierce, wrathful, desperate. I rose to my feet, and said such word-, as even to my own ears sounded terrible. I had broken down at last; the struggle had been too severe; but even amidst the fury of the tempest something seemed rising and surging and fighting its way upward. closing my throat in a spasm of [tain, struggling like a living creature with my life, and flinging me at last exhausted and almost senseless to the ground, on which I lay like a dead and scnseieei thing. (To be continued.) A Koyal Road Io Camping Out. Some unique and moderate-cost summer outings are instructively described in the kid'us' Home Journal by Daniel ('. Beard, who shows a royal rood to camp life and the joys of housol>oat parties, the approximate cost, etc. In selecting a camping place Mr. Beard counsels the selccticai of a spot which “gives the finest possible view of mountains, lakes or rivers, even if some inconvenience must be suffered in the selection. The camp must be dry and well drained, so that in case of sudden steams there will W* no da^gej' of the water flooding the tents, wetting the bedding or spoiling the fesl. A gentle sloping ground is best. Ahold locating in the track or below’ the mouths of innocent-looking gullier or ravines, that may, in case of raint be developed into torrents Os muddy, fek ter. and sweep the catnip Uko WCF pdburst.* A supply cif pure water con^lvutes as much to the enjoyment ofsthß campers as to the preservation <)>f health. Common sense will direct that the camp be selected within easy reach of some bubbling spring or fresh, uneont aminated brook of running w4ter, but there is another tiling of paramount Importance, and that is a bindy supply of fuel.” Mr. Beard tells'how to construct the Adirondacks’ camp, the brush covered lean-to, etc., but considers canvas tents the best shelter for campers. “They are transportedfevith much greater ease than the mos^simply construct cd portable house. A tent may be erected with the expen®furo of less labor than any other kiwi of camp, and furnishes a comfoiable shelter all the year round, A gootTvall lent, with a fly and a wooden floor, la protection enough for even tlm.most dellenite of persons. I “When you start for ca.mp leave artiticialtles and fripperies behind licked up in eajmphor,” is Mr. Beard| advice. “Bring only your free, mti-ain-meled self with yon, and h>! for a frolic, for flapjacks and coffo^TWeetscented spnice boughs, camp iFeSjiand the fireside song and the mu^c the banjo. Let your first care to secure cheerful, happy companions eg the most important articles for four camping outfit.” / f !

SENSATION IN PARIS. ATTEMPT UPON THE LIFE OF PRESIDENT FAURE. A.n®rcliist Ilttrln a Loaded witn Powder and Swan Shot-No One Injured by the Exptosion-Illinois FCnd Ends in Heath. Meant to Kill Faure. Am attempt was made Sunday to assassinate Felix Famv. president of the Freudh republic, while he was en route to Ixmg Oba nips to witness the Brand Prix. While M. Faure's carriage was passing a thicket near La Cascade 'restaurant, in Paris, a bomb exploded. It was a piece of tubing six indies long and two^inches in diameter, charged' with powder and swan shot. No one was injured' by the explosion. A man in the crowd,^suspected as the prime mover, was arrested. He gave his name f/ PRESIPEXT FAVRE. as Ga'det and made only the briefest replies to questions put to him by the pe lice. Galld is laflievcd to lie insane, for he fronted as the carriage passed along so loudly as to attract gmieral attention in the crowd. The police also arrested a youth, but it is thought probable that the actual culprit <-s< a[»ed. Cheers for the President. The news sjiread like wildfire through the city, and wlibn M. l'aure rtuurned t > the Elyste the streets along the route where it was known he would drive were crowded with {icopte, who ch« < r< I him viM-iferously. The bomb was a clumsily made-affair, to wliich n piece of fuse was atta Iwd. and 'he fuse was [rrolmbly lighted by a paper fixed in the end of a stick. 'I he presumption is that at the m imnt the fuse aas lighted t ile culprit fl« d. and in any cane the lH»mb cot’id not have done much harmScene of Previous Att« tnpts. Titis attempt on the life of M. Futire was made on the very sj»»t where R< n - aowaky tried to shoot the Czar while driving tn the military review at uong I'hnmps in ISG7. and where rranc.s. i lunatic, find Jus revolver at M. Laure July 14 last. It is rumorcl that the prefect of police lias 'information connecting the I’ar.s anarchists with the outrage, but'u ;s g, ncrally believed t at the a>-t was the act of a madman rather than a < n-p rator. FATAL END OF A FEUD. Mayor Richards of Bunker Hill Shot by Fai it or Hedley of the (Jazette. Bunker Hill. IIL. is in moaruing for Mayor Jehu R. R ; a in'i i-. and < apt. !'■ uWiek Y. Hedley. <• liter <d tiiv Bttnkt r 11:11 Gazette, is ao useil of the murd r. A*feud of many years' duration emh I Saturday noon, whin the two men'im-t m the street. After a few angry w .rds had been j>as>ed Hedley sho; Ra-har ls. One bullet wounded his arm. Ilie otmr [nosed through bis liver and lodged in the sjxine. His wound cause<l his death six hours later. Hedley's friends and witnesses of li: ■ shooting assert that it was d me in selfdefense. In extenuation of the act it > said. also, that several times in the past Richards had insulin! the edit, r an 1 iw.rc knock, d him down. Hedley bad a>t re taliat <l. Saturday the men met. Richards opened the conversation wit’a these wore-: “Hcdey, why don't you s>»eak to me, according to our agreement? “I'll speak to you when you speak to me first," was the reply. An Assault Alleged, Mayor Richards, it is said, then assaulted) Hetkiey, knocking him down. As Ire rose, it is further asserted, Ricaards picked up a rake, when tthe editor drew a revolver. “Shoot, you coward; I dare you to tthoof," it is said was tauntingly rem irked by^Mayor Richards, as he moved fortward, whcu-UxalhMf-shot twice in succesHedley at owe delivered himself to the authorities and was taken to Carlinville and placed under bond of S2,(NXk Causes of the Enmity. The trouble between the men started with politics. Their differenei s dairing the tost campaign were partly pat clod up through the intewfution of friends, who induced them to sign an agreement con■talning certain stipulations, one of which was that they should speak to each other in public. Behind all this there is a woman. MisEihl Brown was Richards' stmograplr r. Richards wisht d to marry Hit. Hedley was organist of the I'hurch < ho:r in which Miss Brown was the sojirano. and thus they were thrown mm h toyetlrer. Richaiids forbade Hedley Jo have any'thmg to db with the young woman, as he was a distant relative and aided in the fiinuicial support of the Brown family. Miss Brown was one of the witne-.-es of the shooting and is prostrated. In spite of a protest of constilutionaliiy Mrs. M ilkic of Elwood was admitted to practice before the Indiana courts. This is the first time in that State that the ^gality of such proceeding has been called in question. Tae Government of Nicaragua, by decree, has provided for the free admission into Nicaragua of ail materials necessary for mining. The general council of the Reform Episcopal Church of the United States and Canada opened at New York City.

DEATH RAVAGES CUBA. Mortality in the Island Is Nr .r More than 1,000 Daily. A New York Herald correspondent writes from Havana: “More than a thousand persons d.e every day in Cuba as a result of the famine and disease, due to Meyler's enforced reconeentratdon of paeificos. Gen. Woyh ris reaping his crop and the result will horrify the world. land is weary beyond measureof Meyler and war. Next month there cannot but be another jump in the death rate. In May it was more than twice as great as it was m March. Now come the rains, and with them an increase in ye'low fever, typhus, wheeh is already in the field, and the en'toric disordcrs'to which con cent ratios are particularly liable. It was said weeks ago that the logical end of Gem M eyier s policy was extermination, and now I send proof that it is true. Even were war stopped now there would be 50,04)0 or 75,000 deaths before a bettered condition of the stricken-^ jvopulation could cheek the march of the destroyer. I say this without regard to Spani-sh or rebel. The proof that it ia true is here.” EXCURSIONS ON THE LAKE. Macatawa to H n ve Hordes ofViaitors from the West. A ride across Lake Michigan from. Chicago to beautiful Maeatawa Bark, nine-ty-eignt nrles and return, is a part of the program .mapjH'd out for this summer by hosts of people from Illuiois, Indiana, lowa and Wisconsin. T'hotrsa.nd» of visitors come to Chicago each season upon thc.r vacation trij>s, and naturally the fame of Macatawa Park —the most popular. most pleasing and most easily accessible of ail Miehiggn's famous west-shore resorts—has attract! d <hem. The 110 - land-('hi< ago Une i>oats. comprising the stqierb steamers, “Soo Crty" and "City of Holland," -ciil daily from the <b« ks nt N> 1 State street, and on Saturdays make an extra daylight trip at !> a. m. These two boats are the queensof the Chiiugo crosslake fleet; ami Manager Owe-n ."ays that the sevson of '97 promises more visitors t<> Mai atawa from the west than ever Ih>f<>re. Indeed, it is not strange; for the itxhviilual tourist or whole parties of pleasure seniors can' make the trip nt a c-ss expense than it would co-t to spend an ssjual lam 1 on lat. I. And a sail on Lake Michigan. is something that is so M' flom enjoyed by th«- average person, from e;;her city or country, that when the opp itiinity is afforded it is eagerly ilii'i'p’vd. Maekawa's pinc-e’ad hills anil shady dells will see more tenting parties this >nmm r than any ifli er n sort on the I shore. For those «!< siring an exti nded | stay, roomy eottagrs or th<- service* of t thr •• . xis'l’u-nt hotels are offered, at minimum < xjc ns!-. 'I he plai e has the gay ,ist»ect of lite i i'lt iuttb d watering places of i ■!* Last. II tmlnilsof regular patrons ov, ■: tin ir , e n e<.:tng' S. at:d in the iuSght of the s • on 11: Park'- population will t . ’ li : i) . r 7.<a <>. A । eta! card re<im-: V ill ' i-urea '-opy of the benniiful -•n:\! nr book i- ou'd by tile boat company. WELL KNOWN PHYSICIAN. Dr. St* mberg New l’n -i lent of Ilie American MciHc.nl Association. I l ' tl orge M. Sternberg, who has been <i jo.-d’ii! of lite Am, riian M d- ' al A-- !• atlon, is olio of tile fiw-; widely ki. o\ a • in ; - in th, , onntry. lle is i .a ."[.plo t, lilng hi- >:v;.-!ir-t yiar, and it Is not fro mm-h t > say that every >.-.i-o : I [’hysieian in •'u United S'aii-s 'a - । ' r ant him or lu ai lof him. Dr. St! rnl: -g lias no Im k of । xp"ritU'-e us a cat-. a. Ho wa< grad tin tid a- an M. I'. as 1 >■ g ago as I Sio from ihat ancient , ai l ' . 'ivable body, th ■ ('• liege of Phy- | -a: - and Surgems of New York, and t b -foie Im- had time to : i e the world he ; a: d 4imsi If a surgeon In the United Sc < army. H:s tir-r । :i* m-e was will il:o army of the Potomac, but he uas ,-nj.: ni' d by I in- I onfed rai! - at Bull Run. He ■ 'o;ip! d ami went to Washington. Th- nee the authority - sent him to i'lori'! i. ami the ilm-tor made ii - first and most intimate actpiain'arn'e with y: low fevrr. Since that time he lias been an authority . n that disease. In IS7-!) he was sen: t • Havana by the l uitiil States as a meiubt r of the eomnrisshm on yellow Hvi •. at; in ISSS he aiteml d tlw inter- [ —— A, Ski', i: ? \' x 1 Mi \ io UK. GEO. M. STE UN BE KG. nativu.ii e >iiV! ution on ■ .m.taiion. Ih-M at Rome, as the representative of the United States. Dr. Steralarg his w mler'd vast aid to science with fhi' results of his reseanhrs in lite matter of micros opie investigittion. and Ills additions to the literature of bacteriology have been most wt Icomo to his confreres in Europe and Atm riea. The doctor's pn sent rank is that of surgeon general of the United States army. Telegraphic Brevities. *'lanl" D. Farrington, superintendent of the National A. ademy of Design at New York, has bum arrested on a charge of having embezzhd over $4,000 of the aeadt mi s fumls. .James W")iams, e,iiior of the Ardmore, I. T.. Daily Chronicle, was shot through the heart by Clan nee Douglass, an Inilian Territory politician. The shooting oceurTcd iu tile presence of hundreds of cit izens and was a most c&ltl-b'oeded murder. \ cutting affray took place almut six miles from Mountain City, Tcnu.. in which Bud Price, a North Car linn desperado. kilhib .lames Hamptoi and fatally injured-his brother. The dciision of the Baltimore health officials to refuno Miss Mary Sanson, the leper, to .-Allegheny, Pa., will, if carried out. meet with strong resistance from the health board of the latter city. YVhile trying to arrest three burglars at Omaha. Police Officers TicdemauL and Glover were shot, the former perhaps fatally. Glover’s wounds are not thought to be serious. The burglars escaped.

THE SUNDAY SCHOOL. SERIOUS SUBJECTS CAREFULLY CONSIDERED. A Scholarly Exposition of the Lesson -Thoughts Worthy of Calin Reflec-tion-Half an Hour’s Study of the Scriptures—Time Well Spent. Lesson for June 20. Golden Text.—“lt is good neither to eat flesh, nor to drink wine, nor anything whereby thy brother stumbleth.” —Rom. 14: 21. Subject: Personal Responsibility—Rom. 14: 10-21. Again we have a lesson introduced out of order, the reason being in this case that it may be used as a temperance lesson. F rhe date of the epistle from which it is taken is not of much importance for this particular passage. Romans was written gy Paul at Corinth, near the close of his thiixl missionary journey, probably in the year SS. Acts 20:3 is the point in the narrative when it comes in. The whole of the fourteenth chapter of Romans should be regd. It refers to a state of things in an Church brought about by the mixwlehar.neter of that church. Scholars are not . agreed as to its composition, but the general opinion is that the Gentile element predominated, while the Jewish Christians formed a considerable minority. The main iheme of the epistle is the one way of salvation for all nations, Jews and Gentiles, through faith in Christ. The relation of Jews to this gospel is treated in the ninth, tenth and eleventh chapters. Practical advice and warnings occupy the rest of the book. The fourteenth chapter deals with the attitude of Christians to ceremonial requirements and doubtful indulgences. “Some of the Jewish members of the Roman Church were afraid of eating flesh or drinking wine in the great heathen city, for fear of their being made, in some technical way. unclean, and lived, like Daniel at Babylon, on vegetables only, as we know from Josephus was done by some rabbis during their stay in Rome. Fle^h of creatures killed by heathen butchers, and wine from the vineyards of heathen, were forbidden by the rabbinical laws.” Geikie. Added to this difficulty was the burning question whether it was right to purchase and eat meat offered in the markets after having been formally offered to idols. The quantity of meat so sold was very large and those who objected to its use on conscientious grounds put themselves to a vast amount I of trouble, and were apt to look with a feeling of superiority on their less scrupulous brethren. This principle may lie seen ; in operation to-day net only in India, where the mere use of animal grease or any product of slaughtered cattle defiles food, i ut among the stricter Jews of our own country, who require all their meat to be procured from trained butchers familiar with ceremonial iaw. The differences of opinion between Jews and Gentiles on these questions caused some friction in many early churches. Paul desired to direct the attention of the church at Rome to the great principle underlying decision. Explanatory. "N thing is unclean of itself”: to our minds not a startling projiosition, but to many of the men to whom Paul wrote it was revolutionary doctrine. The Jewish ! cereimmial law, including the traditions j of men which went so far beyond tho Mosaic legislation, entered into every relation of life and prescribed just how everything should I* l done in order to escape defilement. Christ had indeed already set forth [>rinci[des which weredesi titled' to overthrow this vast and burden- : some system (see Ylatt. 5-<, 15:10-24)), but they had not yet affected very widely the thought of his disciples. Paul says plainly that of all these disputed"questions, such as the day,on which the Sabbath should be celebrated, the eating of meat previously consecrated by a form of words to a heathen deity, the drinking of wine from heathen merchants, no absolute rule could be laid down. "There is nothing unclean of itself." How monstrously this form of statement was perverted by a few early heretics is well known. Men, known as Antinomians because of tibeir repudiaI tion of law, proclaimed their right to fol- ; low out their natural inclinations regardi loss of moral obligation, pretending to find warrant for this in “the liberty of the gospel.” But it is evident, to anyone who reads Paul's statement in its connec’Jon tliat he is far from making a general statement when he says “there is nothing unclean of itself.” He was speaking of matters concerned merely with, ceremonial observances. There are many things which are and always will be unclean of themselves, and against them the apostle elsewhere speaks with power. “Judge this rather": there is a slight [day upon words here. Paul says. “If you must judge, do not judge your brother's conduct. Devote your critical energies rather to your own conduct, and see that no act of yours shall cause your brother to fall. That alone will give yen plenty to do.” “Destroy not Idm with thy meat. f .i‘ whom Christ died”: bow sclemn’ly this warning comes to a careless C’hristian, who has been going on the principle (as he thinks), “mind your own business and let other people mind theirs.” The truth is. none of us can mind his own business without a due regard for the infirmities ami prejudices of others. “It ts evil for that man who eateth with offense”: to act contrary to one's conscience is wrong for any individual unless ills conscience is very far behind his good judgment —which is perhaps occasionally the case. In the great majority of cases, however, conscience is a safe guide. “Neither to cat flesh”: a thing morally indifferent, according to Paul, neither always wrong nor always right. The question for a vegetarian would be quite different. It would be different for a person living among Hindus, who, abhor meat-eaters. "To drink wine”: the same principle applied; for it seems plain that rani was not thinking of the intoxicating effects of the wine, but of its supposed ceremonially unclean quality when obtained in a heathen city from uncertain sources. But the application to our modern problem is close and convincing. "Anything whereby thy brother stumbleth” is broad enough to include not only; the temperance problem but those others,, now so urgent, of Sunday observance and amusements. , Next Lesson —“First Converts in Europe. ’ —Acts 10: G-15. Negligence numbers one thousand victims to intention’s one.