The Syracuse Journal, Volume 5, Number 34, Syracuse, Kosciusko County, 19 December 1912 — Page 7

KEZIAH JosephC Lincoln Author of / / n| Ou'WliittaJker’s Place /y ( ] V|sLk'* Cap’n Eri, Etc. // / » W 3 TUvLS'tm.liona b<j _ 1 |JL| Ellsworth. ~~*jnL by IXAppleton «-Compel,

» SYNOPSIS. Mrs. Keziah Coffin, supposed widow. Is arranging to move from Trumet to Boston, following the death of her brother, for whom she had kept house. Kyan Pepper, widower, offers marriage, ana is Indignantly refused. Capt. Elkanah DanVls. leader of the Regular church offers Keziah a place as housekeeper for the new minister, and she decides to remain In Trumet. Keziah takes charge of Rev. John Ellery, the new minister, and gives him advice as to his conduct toward members of the parish. Ellery causes a sensation by attending a “Come-outer meeting. Ellery’s presence is bitterly resented by Eben Hammond, leader of the meeting. Grace apologizes for her guardian and Ellery .escorts her home in the rain? Capt. Nat Hammond. Ebens son. becomes a hero by bringing tne packet into port safely through fog and Storm. Ellery finds Keziah writing a letter to some one. inclosing money in response to a demand. She curiously startled when informed of the arrival of Nat. Nat calls on Keziah. and it develops that they have been !ov®rs youth. Daniels remonstrates with Ellery tor atending “Come-outer” meeting. Ellery is caught by the tide and is rescued by Nat. They become friends. CHAPTER Vll.—(Continued.) Sure enough; one of the windows on this side of the house was raised about six Inches at the bottom, the shade was up, and peering beneath the sash the minister discerned the expressive features of Abishai Pepper or as much of those features as the size of the opening permitted to be seen. “Oh!” exclaimed the visitor, “is that you, Mr. Pepper? Well, I’m glad to see you, at last. You are rather hard to see, even now.” ‘Er—er —come to call, did you? “Why. yes, that was my Intention.” “Hum! Er —er —Laviny, she’s gone over to Thankful Payne’s. She heard that Thankful’s cousin up to Middleboro had died—passed away, I mean—and she thought she’d run over and find out if Thankful was willed anything. She said she'd be back pretty soon.” ‘•Very well. Then, as she won’t be gone long, perhaps I’ll come in and “You see, Mr. Ellery,” stammered Kyan, “I—l’d like to have you come in fust rate, but—er— Laviny she’s got the key. She—she— Oh, consarn it all, Mr. Ellery, she’s locked me in this room a-purpose, so’s I won’t get out and go somewheres without her knowin’ it. “She done it a-purpose,” continued Kyan, in a burst of confidence. “She had me put one of them new-fangled spring locks on the door of this room t’other day. ’cause she said she was afraid of tramps and wanted some place to shut herself up in if one of ’em come. And —and after dinner today she sent me in here for somethin’ and then slammed the door on me. Said she cal’lated I’d stay put till she got back from Thankful’s. She knew mighty well I couldn’t get out of the window, ’cause it won’t open no further’n ’tis now. I wa’n’t never so provoked in my life. ’Tain’t no way to treat your own brother, lockin’ him up like a young one; now, Is it?” "1 don’t know. You’re of age, Mr. Sepper, and you must decide for yourself. I think I should declare my independence. Really, 1 must go. I —” “Stop your foolishness! Oh! —I—l ask your pardon, Mr. Ellery. That ain’t no way to talk to a minister. But I’m goln* to go out when I want to If I bust a hole through the clapboards. I ain’t fascinatin’. You askjkny woman—except her —if I be, anyPsee what they say. What’ll I do?” “Ha, ha! I don’t know, I’m sure. You might lock her up, I suppose, just for a change.” “Hey!” There was a sound from behind the pane as if the imprisoned one had slapped his knee. “By gum! I never thought of that. Would you now. Mr. Ellery? Would you? Sshh! sehh! somebody’s cornin’. Maybe it’s bar. Run around to the door, Mr; Ellery, quick. And don’t tell her I’ve seen you, for tpercy sakes! Don’t now’, will ye ? Please! Run! ” The minister did not run, but he walked briskly around the corner. Sure enough, Lavlnia was there, just unlocking the door. She expressed herself as very glad to see the caller, ushered him into the sitting room and disappeared, returning in another momeet with her brother, whom she unhlushlngly said had been taking a nap. Abishai did not contradict her; instead, he merely looked apprehensively at the minister. The call was a short one. Lavlnia did seven-eighths of the talking and Ellery the rest. Kyan was silent. He told no one of Kyan’s confidential disclosure, and, after some speculation as to whether or not there might be a sequel, put the whole ludicrous affair out of his mind. A week from the following Sunday he dined in state at the Daniels’ table. Captain Elkanah was gracious and condescending. Annabel was more than that. She was dressed In her newest gown and was so very gushing and affable that the minister felt rather embarrassed. When, after the meal was over. Captain Elkanah excused himself and went upstairs-for his Sabbath nap, the embarrassment redoubled. Miss Annabel spoke very confidentially of her loneliness without “congenial society,” of how very much she did enjoy Mr. Ellery’s Intellectual sermons, and especially what a treat it had been to have him as a guest He left the big house as soon as he could without giving offense, and started back toward the parsonage. But the afternoon was so fine and the early summer air so delightful that be changed his mind and, jumping the fence at the foot of Cannon Hill, set off across the fields toward the bluffs and the bay shore. ! The sun was low in the west as he entered the grove of pines on the bluff. The red light between the boughs Saade brilliant carpet patterns on the

thick pine needles and the smell was balsamy and sweet. Between the tree trunks he caught glimpses of the flats, now partially covered, and they reminded him of his narrow escape and of Nat Hammond, his rescuer., Thinking of the Hammond family reminded him of another member of it. Not that he needed to be reminded; he had thought of her often enough since she ran away from him in the rain that night. And then he saw her. She was standing just at the outer edge of the grove, leaning against a tree and looking toward the sunset. She wore a simple white dress and her hat hung upon her shoulders by its ribbons. The rosy light edged the white gown with pink and the fringes of her dark hair were crinkly lines of fire. Her face was grave, almost sad. John Ellery stood still, with one foot uplifted for a step. The girl looked out over the water and he looked at her. Then a crow, one of several whirling above the pines, spied (he intruder and screamed a warning. The minister was startled and stepped back. A dead limb beneath his foot cracked sharply. Grace turned and saw him. Oh!” she cried. “Who is it?" Ellery emerged from the shadow. “Don’t be frightened, Miss Van Horne,” he said. “It Is—er —I.” “You came to see the sunset, I suppose?” she said hurriedly, as if to head off a question. “So did I. It is a beautiful evening for a walk, isn’t It?” She had said precisely the same thing on that other evening, when they stood in the middle of “Hammond’s Turn-off” in the driving rain. He remembered it, and so, evidently, did she, for she colored slightly and smiled. “I mean it this time,” she said. “I'm glad you didn’t get cold from your wetting the other day.” “Oh! I wasn’t very wet. You wouldn’t let me lend you the umbrella, so I had that to protect me on the way home.” “Not then; I meant the other morning when Nat—Cap’n Hammond —met you on the flats. He said you were wading the main channel and it was over your boots.” “It was worse than that, a good deal worse. It might have been my last cruise. I’m pretty certain that I owe the captain my life. That part of the channel I proposed swimming was exactly where two men have been drowned, so people say. I’m not a very strong swimmer, and they were. So, you see.” Grace cried out in astonishment. “Oh!” she exclaimed. Then pointing toward the bay, she asked: “Out there, by the end of that leader, was it?” “Yes, that was it.” She drew a long breath. Then, after a moment: “And Nat spoke as if It was all a joke,” she said. “No doubt he did. From what I hear of your brother, he generally refers to his own plucky, capable actions as jokes. Other people call them something else.” “He isn’t my brother,” she interrupted absently. “I wish he was.” She sighed as she uttered the last sentence. “No, of course he isn’t your real brother; I forgot. But he must seem like one ” “Yes,” rather doubtfully. “You must be proud of him.” “I am.” there was nothing doubtful this time. “Miss Van Horne! What did your uncle say about Cap’n Nat’s meeting me the other day?” “Uncle Eben doesn’t know. Nat didn’t tell anyone but me. He doesn’t boast. And uncle would be glad he helped you. As I told you before, Mr. Ellery, I’m not ashamed of my uncle. He has been so good to me that I never can repay him, never! When my own father was drowned he took me in, a little orphan that would probably have been sent to a home. When he needed money most he said nothing to me, but insisted that I should be educated. I didn’t know until afterwards of the self-sacrifice my four years at the Mlddleboro Academy meant to him.” “So you went away to school?" he mused. “This Is why—” “That is why I don’t say 'never done nothin’ * and *be you’ and ’haln’t neither.’ Yes, thank you, that’s why. I don’t wonder you were surprised.’’ She was going, but the minister had something to say. He stepped forward and walked beside her. "Just a minute, please,” he urged. “Miss Van Horne, I do understand. I do respect your uncle. We have a mutual friend, you and I, and through her I have come to understand many things." Grace turned and looked at him. "A mutual friend?" she repeated. “Oh, I know. Mrs. Coffin?” “Yes; Mrs. Coffin. She’s a good woman and a wise one.” “I know. I feel the same way about her. She means so much to me. I love her more than anyone else 1r the world, except uncle, of course—and Nat. I miss her very much since—since—” “Since I came, you mean. I’m sorry. I wish—l hate to think I am the cause which separates you two. It isn’t my fault, as you know.” “Oh! I know that." “Yes, and I object to having others choose my friends for me, people who, because of a fanatical prejm-’ce, stand in th' way of— If it wasn’t for that, you might call and see Mrs. Coffin, just as you used to do." “But it’s impossible. Uncle respects and is fond of Aunt Keziah, but.he

wouldn’t hear of my vlshtlng the parsonage.” She was close to the overhanging edge of the bluff and the sod upon which she stood was bending beneath her feet. He sprang forward, caught her about the waist, and pulled her 1 back. The sod broke and rattled down the sandy slope. She would have had a slight tumble, nothing worse., had she gone with it. There was no danger; and yet the minister was very white as he released her. She, too, was pale for a moment, 'and then crimson. “Thank you,” she gasped. “I—l must go. It is late. I didn’t realize how late it was. I—l must go. I—l think the sunsets from this point are the finest I have ever seen. I come here every Sunday afternoon to see them.” This remark was given merely to cover embarrassment, but it had an unexpected effect. “You do?” cried the minister. The next moment he was alone. Grace Van Horne had vanished in the gloom of the pine thickets. It was a strange John Ellery who walked slowly back along the path. He saw nothing real, and heard nothing, not even the excited person who, hidden behind the bayberry bush, hailed him as he passed. It was not until this person rushed forth and seized him by the arm that he came back to the unimportant affairs of this material earth. “Why! Why, Mr. Pepper!” he gasped. "Are you here? What do you want ?" “Am I here?” panted Kyan. “Ain’t I been here for the last twenty minutes waitin’ to get a chance at you? Ain’t I been chasin’ you from Dan to Beersheby all this dummed—excuse me—afternoon? Oh, my godfreys mighty!” “Why, what’s the matter?” “You—you made me do it,” guarded Kyan. “Yes, sir, ’twas you put me up to it. When you was at our house t’other day, after Laviny locked me up, you told me the way to get square was to lock her up, too. And I done it! Yes, sir, I done it when she got back from meetin’ this noon. I run off and left her locked in. And—and —he wailed, wringing his hands — “I —I ain’t dast to go home sence. What’ll I do?" CHAPTER VIII. In Which Miss Daniels Determines to Find Out. The hysterical Mr. Pepper doubtless expected his clergyman to be almost as much upset as he was by the news of his action. But John Ellery was provokingly calm. “Hush! Hush!” he ’commanded. “Walt a minute. Let me understand this thing. Some one is locked up, you say. Who is it? Where —” “Who is it? Ain’t I tellin’ you. It’s Laviny. She went into that spare room where I was t’other day and I slammed the spring lock to on her. Then I grabbed the key and run. That was afore three this afternoon; now it’s ’most night and I ain’t dast to go home. What’ll she say w’hen I let her out? I got to let her out, ain’t I? She can’t starve to death in there, can she? And you told me to do it! You did! Oh—" “Well, then, I don’t see why you can’t go home and—hum —I don’t like to advise your telling a lie, but you might let her infer that it was an accident. Or, if you really mean to be your own master, you can tell her you did it purposely and will do it again if she ever tries the trick on you." “I tell her that! I tell her! O Mr. Ellery, don’t talk so. You don’t know Laviny; she ain’t like most women. i x He Sprang Forward and Caught Her About the Waiat. If I should tell her that she’d —I don’t know’s she wouldn’t take and horsewhip me. Or commit suicide. She’s said she would afore now if—if—“ “Nonsense! She won’t do that, you needn’t worry.” He burst into another laugh, but checked himself, as he gaw the look of absolute distress on poor Kyan’s face. “Never mind, Mr. Pepper,” he said. “We’ll think of some plan to smooth matters over. I’ll go home with you now and we'll let her out together.” The little house was dark and still as they approached it. They entered. The dining room was dark and quiet So was the sitting room. The clock ticked, solemn and slow. Kyan’s trembling knees managed to carry him to the little hall leading from the sitting room toward the ell at the side of the house. This hall was almost pitch black. “Here—here, ’tis,” panted Kyan. “Here’s the door. I don't hear nothin’, do you? Listen!” They listened. Not a sound, save the dismal tick of the clock in the room they had left. Ellery knocked on the door. “Miss Pepper,” he said; “Miss Pepper, are you there?" Silence, absolute. Abishai could stand ft no longer. He groaned and collapsed on his knees. “She has!" he moaned. 'The done it and there ain't nothin' in there but her remains. Oh, my soul!" Ellery, now rather frightened himself, shook him violently. “Bo quiet, you idiot!” he commanded;. “We must go in. Give me the key.” After repeated orders and accompanying shakings, Kyan produced a key. The minister snatched it from his trembling, fingers, felt for the key-

hole and threw the door open. The lib tie room was almost as dark as the hall and quite as still. There was « distinct smell of old clothes and camphor. The minister was going after a match, and said so. In a moment he ’returned with several. One of these he lit. The sputtered, burned blue and fragrant, then burst into a yellow flame. The little room was empty. John Ellery drew a breath * relief. Then he laughed. “Humph!” he exclaimed. ■’ “She’s gone. Come into the sitting room, light a lamp, and let’s talk it over.” The lamp was found and lighted at last. If*s radiance brightened the dingy sitting room. The sound of wheels was heard in the lane by the front gate. A vehicle stopped. Then some one called a hurried good night. Mr. Pepper’s fedr returned. “It’s her!” he cried. “She’s been ahuntln’ for me. Now I’ll get it! You stand by me, Mr. Ellery. You got to. You said you would. But how on earth did she get out—” His sister appeared on the threshold. She was dressed In her Sunday best, flowered poke tfimnet, mitts, imitation India shawl, rustling black bombazine gown. She looked at Mr. Pepper, then at the minister. “O Mr. Ellery!" she exclaimed, “be you here?” The Reverend John admitted his presence. Miss Pepper’s demeanor surprised him. She did not seem angry; indeed, she acted embarrassed and confused, as if she, and not her "brother, were the guilty party. “I’m awfully sorry, Mr. Ellery,” gushed Lavlnia, removing the bonnet “You see, I was invited out to ride this afternoon and—and—l went.” She glanced at her brother, reddened —yes, almost blushed—and continued. “You know, ’Blshy,” she said, “Thankful Payne’s cousin’s home avisitin’ her. He come about that cousin’s will—the other cousin that’s just died. He’s a real nice man—her live cousin is—keeps a shoe store up to Sandwich, and I used to know him years ago. When I was over to Thankful’s t’other day, him and me had quite a talk. We got speakin’ of what nice drives there was around Trumet and —and—er — well, he asked me if I wouldn’t like to go to ride next Sunday afternoon — that’s today. And a ride bein’ a good deal of a treat to me, I said I would. Thankful was goin’ too, but —er —er — she couldn’t very well. So Caleb — that’s his name, you remember, ’Bishy —he come round with his horse and team about ha’f past three and we started. But I’d no idee ‘twas so late. I—i—meant to tell you I was goin’ ’Blsb, but I forgot “I’m so sorry I kept you waitin’ supper,” gushed Lavlnia. “I’ll get you a good one now. Oh, well, deary me! I must be gettln’ absent-minded. I ain’t asked you where you’ve been all the afternoon.” Abishai’s eyes turned beseechingly toward his promised backer. Ellery ftould not resist that mute appeal. “Your brother has been with me for some time, Miss Pepper,” he volunteered. “Oh, has he? Ain’t that nice! He couldn’t have been in better comp’ny, I’m sure. But, oh, say, ’Bishy! I ain’t told you how nigh I come to not gettin’ out at all. Just afore Mr. Payne come, I was in that spare room and—you remember I put a spring lock on that door? Well, when I was in there this afternoon the wind blew the door shut, the lock clicked, and there I was. If I hadn’t had the other key in my pocket I don’t know’s I wouldn’t have been in there yet. That would have been a pretty mess, wouldn’t it! He! he! he!" The Reverend John did not answer. He could not trust himself to apeak just then. When he did it was to announce that he must be getting toward home. No, he couldn’t stay for supper. Miss Pepper went into the kitchen, and Abishai saw the visitor to the door. Ellery extended his hand and Kyan shook It with enthusiasm. (TO BE CONTINUED.) A Vivid Picture. Os all “aptitudes," the mechanical is least likely to itself in a feminine brain. The young woman whose visit to a locomotive works is described in Young’s Magazine, was doubtless interested in what she saw, but her account of the processes observed leaves the reader to doubt her entire understanding of them. “You pour,” she told a friend, “a lot of sand into a lot of boxes, and you throw old stove lids and things into a furnace, and then you turn the redhot stream into a hole in the sand, and everybody yells and shouts. “Then you pour it out, let it cool and pound it, and then you put in it a thing that bores holes in it. Then you screw it together, and paint it, and put steam in it, and it goes splendidly, and they take it to a draftingroom and make a blue-print of it. “But one thing I forgot—They have 1 to make a boiler. One man gets inside and one gets outside, and they pound frightfully, and then they tie it to the other thing, and you ought to see it go!"—Youth’s Companion. Finding the Drowned. Occasionally one reads that, when , human bodies are thought to be in rivers and cannot be found, “a loaf of bread has been floated down the stream.” But very few people have the least idea what connection there is between bread and the finding of ‘ bodies. When the river has been dragged without result, a loaf of bread is cut in two, a place hollowed out in the middle, and a quantity of quick--1 silver inserted. The two halves of the loaf are then fasteneu together ' again, and the bread is thrown into the water in the place where the body is supposed to be. Without fall the loaf floats along until it reaches the vicinity of the body, and then revolves quickly, hovering over the spot. When Disraeli Faltered. Disraeli was speaking in support of : Lord Lytton’s motion condemning the evacuation of Kandahar. “My lords,” ■ he said, “the key of India is not Merv, or Herat, or"—here came a long pause, ■ and rather painful anxiety in the au- » dlence, and then the quiet resumption cf the thread—“lt is not the place of • which I cannot recall the name—the i key of India is London.”—One Look i Back, by the Rt. Hon. G. W. E. RussslL

A Christmas Sermon By REV. JAMES M. GRAY. D. D„ Deaa of the Moody Bible ImbJula. Chicago TEXT—When the fulness of the time was come, God sent forth his son, made of a woman, made under the law. to re3eem them that were under the law. that we might receive the adoption of qpns.— Galatians 4:4, L

Christianity was not precipitated upon the world, but came in as the result of a long and patient preparation. The seed which blossomed in Bethlehem, was planted in the garden of Eden. In other words, it was not until “the. fulness of time” that “God sent forth His Son ... to redeem them

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that were under the law." Why this delay? Why did not the birth of the second Adam follow Immediately upon the fall of the first? Why was a diseased race allowed to suffer in the absence of the only physician who could give relief? Some of the most interesting thoughtful answers to this question are in a great sermon on this text by the eloquent Robert Hall, an English Baptist clergyman of an earlier generation, from whom I quote in part In the first place, it may have been God’s purpose to impress the race with the great lessons of its apostasy, and the fearful consequences of rebellion. Thus to restrain our haughty spirits from acting in the future life as we have acted here. In the second place, if it was necessary in any sense that salvation should be prepared for man, it may have been equally so that man should have been prepared for salvation Man needed to have a true knowledge of his sinfulness and the misery R produces, as well as his moral Inability to overcome it in his own wisdom and strength. It needed time for man to find this out, for he must exhaust everything that nature could do before he would be prepared to receive the grace of God in the present work of his son. Another reason for the delay is found in the necessity for the accumulation of prophetic evidence concerning the Savior, that when he came he might be identified beyond a doubt When Jesus came it was at the moment when all the prophecies concerning his advent had reached a focusAnd as another says, "He brought with him the key which fitted every ward of the prophetic lock.” The Most Favorable Time In History. Finally, in this connection*it may be added that of all the periods in the world’s history that which was selected for the advent of the son of God was the most favorable in at least three particulars: (1) It was a time of great intellectual refinement, when the human mind had been cultivated to the last degree, and was therefore able to detect and prevent imposture as at no previous time. Tom Paine or Robert Ingersoll did not live then, but such rush lights as they could not have been seen among the luminaries of the Augustan age. In other words, if Christianity stood the test of the first; century, it has nothing to fear from ' the present one. 1 (2) It was the time of a centralized human government, and Rome was in the Heyday of its power. This made the whole of the civilized world easily accessible, furnishing an opportunity for the propagation of the gosk pel message to mankind everywhere. (3) It was the age of the perfßc--1 tlon of the Greek language, which for 1 many years had been under process ’ of cultivation. This was a tongue preeminently adapted to Illustrate spiritual truth, and to assist later ages in discovering the meaning of its words. Whatever was written in Greek was 1 accessible to all, and at any earlier ' period the want of such a vehicle of J thought would have made the general teaching of the bible almost prohibited. The gospel intended to become J universal would have been unfit for ’ its work, unless continual miracles 1 had been wrought to further its propa- ’ gation. Thus, to quote Robert Hall,, the earth was prepared to receive the' precious seed. “He who appoints the seasons, saw that this was the time: k to plant that Tree of Righteousness, ‘ which ultimately was to shadow the whole earth, and whose leaves were, : to be for the healing of the nations.” The Lessons for Us. And, finally, whatever may be said as to the delay of the father in send-, ing the son into the wrold, the two 1 points to be considered now are ’ these: r In the first place, the delay caused ’ no injustice to the preceding ages,, ’ for the mediation of the son of God, ’ looked backward as well as forwards ; and his sacrifice on Calvary atonedi 1 for the faithful who had died before 1 that event as well as for those who| 1 follow after. The Jesus of the New ‘ Testament Is the Jehovah of the old, 1 f and the Savior who appeared to Adam p in the garden of Eden is the same' ’ who intercedes for his people today. ■ r And in the second place, “Now” that 1 “once In the end of the world hath he 1 appeared to put away sin by the sac-' • rtflee of himself," it behooves us to 1 inquire whether he has yet been received into our hearts. This should* be cur chief concern on this anniversary occasion. This is the “fulness ' of the time” for us. and God forbid, that the opportunity should come and.. > go and leave us where we were be-I . fore. The way to make the Christmasi - in the earth a Christmas in the soul; 1 is to receive Jesus Christ by faith, ’ as a personal Savior. He is God’s! * unspeakable gift to us. Win you now, : gay to him. I accept this gift, I take ■ thy son? It is so simple, and yet aw vital Do it now. ’ W -i »

MffiMIONAL SIWSWI Lesson (By -E. O. SELLERS. Director of Kv«: | nlng Department The Moody Bible Institute of Chicago.) LESSON FOR DECEMBER 22 FOR AND AGAINST HIM. LESSON TEXT—Luke 9:49-63. GOLDEN TEXT—“He that Is not against us is for us.”—Luke 9:50. This lesson naturally falls into three divisions: I. The mistaken zeal of the disciples of Jesus, vv. 49,50; IL The intrepid zeal of Jesus, vv. 51-56, and 111. The lack of zeal on the part of some would-be followers of Jesua. vv. 57-62. Evidently monopolistic ideas are not a modern development. The desire to control all religious authority' has given rise to the most damnable blots on the history of the Christian church. Christian intolerance is one of the devll’h sweetest morsels. "And John answered” not the impetuous Peter. Who it was that had spoken we do not know, but evidently it was Jesus. Two things are without dispute: (1) The unknown one was doing the work, and (2) he was giving Jesus the glory, Luke 10-17. Whether he ceased at the command of John we cannot say. It has been suggested that could we have heard the tone of John’s voice perhaps we should have gathered that John was not quite sure he had done the right thing, but he is frank and tells Jesus why he gave Ms command, viz., “because he followed not with us.” Work In Christ’s Name. This spirit has always been one oi the serious drawbacks in the advancement of the kingdom. Belong to out party, follow our methods, or else quit working. There are, of course, wrong methods which will never produce right results, but if a man is doing Christ’s work and doing it in Christ's name we need to beware ot allowing-selfishness, the traditions of men, or the fact that “we never saw it on this wise” to allow us to hindei that man in his work, see Mark 9:89 41. Scholars are divided as to the interval of time between verses 50 and 51, but the second section is a wonderful illumination of the sort of zeal Jesus desires in his followers. Verse 51 Is one of the most sublime in the entire Bible. Where can we find anything like it? Jesus saw not the bick erings of the disciples as to place and power; he saw not the slights cast upon him by both Jew* and Samaritan; Jesus saw Jerusalem and beyond thal Calvary, and as steadfast as a flint “he set his face to go to Jerusalem.' All of redemption, all of Pentecost all of “this age” and the glorious con summation of "this age” is bound uj in that intrepid zeal of him who when “the days were well nigh come that he should be received up” set his sac« “Steadfastly.” As Jesus began thii journey he “sent messengers before his face,” v. 52. That same glorloui privilege is <?urs today, Matthew 28: 19. It is a great opportunity and • solemn duty. Certain of the Samaritans refused to receive him and his party. Thi« time John has another to speak with him, James. They again show th« spirit of intolerance and to it thej add that of vindictiveness. As we g< before him to prepare the way are wc entirely free from making a slmtlai mistake? These Samaritans acted ir Ignorance. Perhaps, as revealed in v 53, they saw that he did not intend tc go to their village anyway (see alsc John 4:40-42). Jesus this time re buked in the disciples this spirit oi censoriousness and pride. We need to remember his constant emphasis upon humility. Many a personal work sr becomes angry with those whe tall to accept Jesus and exhibit this spirit. Let him remember that hi will not receive commendation for hli teal, but rebuke. “And they went tc another village.” The day of flna judgment had not yet arrived. Thes< people simply did not receive him; the day of opportunity was not yet a» an end. What a contrast is here shown between the spirit of Jesus and that of his disciples. It is our privi lege to be his heralds. Let us be verj careful not to assume authority whlcl rightfully belongs to him. Stories of Three Men. In the third section we have before us the stories of three men whon Jesus met, each of whom lacked suf ficlent zeal to become his true follow* ers. The first impulsively answer* some emotion of his heart and as sures Jesus that he will follow “whith ersoever thou goest.” Jesus did not rebuke him, for the man had but little realization of what was implied. “Pl! go with him through the garden,” w* sing glibly. Let us pause and honest ly answer thci question, "Will I go?’ “Am I willing to pay the price?’ (John 15:20 and I. Peter 2:81.) He who had set his face steadfastly slm ply opens as it were the deep loneli ness of his heart and gives this max a faint suggestion of that poverty ol him “wba was rich, yet for our sake* became poor” (2 Cor. 8:9). This li one of the few references Jesus made as to his own condition. The second man seems to be of more importance inferentially, at least, for Jesus com mands him to "follow.” Notice Jesu* does not say admire me, nor ever worship me, but “follow me.” ThU man seems to have a very high sense of duty, his obligation to his parents and to the amenities of society. Thii man’s mistake was In placing any thing, no matter how Important, Id the place of the kingdom. Jesus does not mean for us to neglect such a plain duty, but this man is pleading for a delay, and had it not been this excuse it would have been some other one. His trouble is that of thousands. They realize the value of this pearl of great price, but ere they seek to possess it they would chase some vain bauble like pleasures, riches or learning, and then come and follow him Men will leave aged parents to seek a fortune who will not Publish abwadjfte kUudfia of Gdfi-.

HE KNEW WHAT TO AVOID If Knowing Human Nature Would Do It This Man 1 Would Have Made Good Preacher. “Dr. John -Haynes Holmes, who > preached a Bull Moose sermon to President Taft the Sunday before eleoi tion day, isn’t like Washington I White,” said h member of Dr. Holmes* Church of the Messiah In New York. “Washington White was an aged hod carrier. Laying down his paper one evening, he said to his wife over his spectacles: “ ‘Martha, I believe I’d- make a preacher. Listen, now, and I’ll giro you a sermon.’ . . The old man then stood up to th* table and bellowed out a vigorous di»course on the wickedness of the idolaters of the Orient “His wife said at the end: “‘A good enough sermon, Washington, but you’ve told us all about tho sins of the foreignerss and never a word about the sins of the folks at home here.’ “ ‘Ha, ha, ha, I understand preachin* too well for that,* laughed the wild-old man.” ITCHING AND BURNING Iberia, Mo.—“l was troubled . wltk scalp eczema for about five years and tried everything I heard of, but all oi no avail. The doctors told me I would have to have my head shaved. Being a woman, I hated the idea qf that I was told by a friend. that the Cuticura Remedies would do me good. Thia spring I purchased two boxes of CuUcura Ointment and one cake of Cuttcura Soap. After using one box of Cuticura Ointment I considered the cure permanent, but continued to usa it to make sure and used about onehalf the other box. Now lam entirely well. I also used the Cuticura Soap. “The disease began on the back of my head, taking the form of a ringworm, only more severe, rising to a thick, rough scale that would come off when soaked with oil or'warm water, bringing a few hairs each time, but in a few days would form again, larger each time, and spreading until the entire back of the head was covered with the scale. This was accompanied by a terrible Itching and burning sensation. Now my head is completely well and my hair growing nicely.” (Signed) Mrs. Geo. F. Clark, Mar. 25, 1912. Cuticura Soap and Ointment sold throughout the world. Sample of each free with 32-p. Skin -Book. Address post-card “Cuticura, Dept L, Boston.” AdT ‘ - Up and Doing. Not all city folks are as ignorant of the farmer’s surroundings as the farmers sometimes suppose. This was evidenced by an incident in the stay of a young New Yorker on a New England farm. “Well, young man,” said the farmer to his boarder who was up early and looking around, “been out to hear tho haycock crow, I suppose?” And tho sly old chap winked at his hired man. i Ths city man smiled. “No," said ho I suavely, “I’ve merely been out tying , a knot in a cord of wood.”— Judge’* i Library. I ■ / ■' i Qualified. “Was your son one of the popular i boys at college?” “Yes, indeed. He was elected cheer j leader three times.” i “And what is he going to do now?** j “He Is considering a fine otter to i call carriages for a leading catering I firm.” Scarce as Hen’s Teeth. i Mr. Crimsonbeak —That bachelor t friend of mine is looking for a partner for his joys and sorrows. Mrs. Crimsonbeak —Well; It seems J to me he’s a long time about it “Yes; you see he’s looking for a st- ; lent partner.” * ■ Not Always. . ’ - • "It is money makes the mare go.” ‘ “If she turns out a loser, it is tho ’ mare that makes the money go." I A scientist has discovered that the c onion is a cure for love. ' Fresh supply Mrs. Austin’s Bag Buckwheat now on hand at your grocers. Adv. But a tip doesn’t always come to tho ' man who waits.

CANADA’S OFFERING TO THE SETTLER i THE AMERICAN RUSH TO ; nTrn>_ western Canada > IS INCREASING B‘WP|7ißjUij!r|J I Free Homestead* I Isl fl •; Il° th * new Districts of A I Manitoba. Baskatcb*- ■ I wan and Alberta there 1 taPjABfiItKJKSXWtIX worth from »») to 126 per acre. These land* ar* well adapted to grain . f ) ) 1| growing and cattle raising. BXCBLUST BAILWAY naUHB 1 In many case* th* railways In Canada nave been built in advanoe of settlement, and In a ■ .>> JM short time there will not be a settler who need be mor* than ! is ten or twelve mile* from a Un* of railway. Railway Rates ar* X/7uaW I’ lt mi***^ 1^by Government Ctomn iWhIU* Social Condition* ' L///T I Th* American Settler la at bom* ! I \ *Hk< in Western Canada. Dels not a Ml i \raßk stranger In a strange land, hav- * «KS % Ing nearly a million of his own ■M VLTS people already settled there. If i MOl 'Vvk'A you desire to know why thecon- . VV dltlon of the CanadianSeiUari* 1 nw - prosperous write and send tor j fimralure, rates, etc., to , W. NETHERY, " *l* gsbdnk* bids., ToMa o*l., *e 1 S|FjjxA*'' , 'TL kUTraed**TsMds*lßM* 4 laglMsy«il* a Canadian Government Agents, or ’ address Superintendent of j KSSslw' s ' Immigration, Ottawa, fsssfc : MONEY-WRING a ■ w.w r« k**t *»* wffey. X J ,<s ■ ■ par kwt markat >Hm. W- ■ Writ* < I FIIkNm g I UllijH ’ Mendets —Mend all leaks instantly. Without 1 heat, solder, cement or rivet, in granite war* and hot-water bags. tin. copper, eta WUI ’■ at any surface. Each package contains • | somplete assortment of slsea For Me. coin *r stamp*. I will send a ; reriv 1 POTTSVItIJE. PA. in time. Sold by Drug«l*t*-