MUSING BY THE FIRE.

THE PSALMIST RECALLS THE DAYS OF HIS YOUTH. Dr. Talmage Preaches on the Benefits of Solitary Contemplation--The Hand of Providence In the Vicissitudes of Life Preparation For the Hereafter. BROOKLYN, Aug. 6.--Rev. Dr. Talmage has chosen for the topic for today a panorama of reminiscences appropriate to the season, the text selected being Psalm xxxix, 3, "While I was musing the fire burned." Here is David, the psalmist, with the forefinger of his right hand against his temple, the door shut against the world, engaged in contemplation. And it would be well for us to take the same posture often, closing the door against the world while we sit down in sweet solitude to contemplate. In a small island off the coast I once passed a Sabbath in delightful solitude, for I had resolved that I would have one day of entire quiet before I entered upon autumnal work. I thought to have spent the day in laying out plans for Christian work, but instead of that it became a day of tender reminiscence. I reviewed my pastorate and I shook hands with an old departed friend, whom I shall greet again when the curtains of life are lifted. The days of my boyhood came back, and I was 10 years of age, and I was 8, and I was 5. There was but one house on the island, and yet from Sabbath daybreak, when the bird chant woke me, until evening melted into the bay, from shore to shore there were 10,000 memories, and the groves were a-hum with voices that had long ago ceased. YOUTH AND AGE. Youth is apt too much to spend all its time in looking forward. Old age is apt too much to spend all its time in looking backward. People in midlife and on the apex look both ways. It would be well for us, I think, however, to spend more time in reminiscence. By the constitution of our nature we spend most of the time looking forward. And the vast majority of people live not so much in the present as in the future. I find that you mean to make a reputation. You mean to establish yourself, and the advantages that you expect to achieve absorb a great deal of your time. But I see no harm in this if it does not make you discontented with the present or disqualify you for the existing duties. It is a useful thing sometimes to look back and to see the dangers we have escaped, and to see the sorrows we have suffered, and the trials and wanderings of our earthly pilgrimage, and to sum up our enjoyments. I mean today, so far as God may help me, to stir up your memory of the past, so that in the review you may be encouraged and humbled and urged to pray. There is a chapel in Florence with a fresco by Guido. It was covered up with two inches of stucco until our American and European artists went there and after long toil removed the covering and retraced the fresco. And I am aware that the memory of the past, with many of you, is all covered up with 10,000 obliterations, and I propose this morning, so far as the Lord may help me, to take away the covering, that the old picture may shine out again. I want to bind in one sheaf all your past advantages, and I want to bin in another sheaf all your past adversities. It is a precious harvest, and I must be cautious how I swing the scythe. Among the greatest advantages of your past life was an early home and its surroundings. The bad men of the day, for the most part, dip their heated passions out of the boiling spring of an unhappy home. We are not surprised that Byron's heart was a concentration of sin when we hear that his mother was abandoned and that she made sport of his infirmity and often called him "the lame brat." He who has vicious parents has to fight every inch of his way if he would maintain his integrity and at last reach the home of the good in heaven. Perhaps your early home was in the city. It may have been in the days when Canal street, New York, was far up town. That old house in the city

may have been demolished or changed into stores, and it seemed like sacrilege to you, for there was more meaning in that plain house, in that small house, than there is in a granite mansion or a turreted cathedral. Looking back this morning, you see it as though it were yesterday--the sitting room, where the loved ones sat by the plain lamplight, the mother at the evening stand, the brothers and sisters, perhaps long ago gathered into the skies, then plotting mischief on the floor or under the table; your father with a firm voice command-

ing silence, that lasted half a minute.

HAPPY CHILDHOOD DAYS.

Oh, those were good days! If you had your foot hurt, your mother always had a soothing salve to heal it. If you were wronged in the street, your father was always ready to protect you. The year was one round of frolic and mirth. Your

greatest trouble was an April shower, more sunshine than shower. The heart

had not been ransacked by troubles, nor had sickness broken it, and no lamb had

a warmer sheepfold than the home in which your childhood nestled.

Perhaps you were brought up in the country. You stand now today in mem-

ory under the old tree. You clubbed it for fruit that was not quite ripe because

you could not wait any longer. You hear the brook rumbling along over the pebbles. You step again into the furrow where your father in his shirt sleeves

shouted to the lazy oxen. You frighten the swallows from the rafters of the barn and take just one egg and silence your conscience by saying they will not miss it. You take a drink again out of the very bucket that the old well fetched up. You go for the cows at night and find them wagging their heads through the bars. Ofttimes in the dusty and busy streets you wish you were home again on

that cool grass or in the hall of the farm house, through which there was the breath of new mown hay or the blossom of buckwheat.

You may have in your windows now beautiful plants and flowers brought from across the seas, but not one of them stirs in your soul so much charm and memory as the old ivy and the yellow sunflower that stood sentinel along the garden walk and the forgetmenots playing hide and seek mid the long grass. The father, who used to come in sunburned from the fields and sit down on the doorsill and wipe the sweat from his brow, may have gone to his everlast-

ing rest. The mother, who used to sit at the door a little bent over, cap and spectables on, her face mellowing with the vicissitudes of many years, may have put down her gray head on the pillow in the valley, but forget that home you never will.

Have you thanked God for it? Have you rehearsed all these blessed reminis-

cences? Oh, thank God for a Christian father. Thank God for a Christian mother. Thank God for an early Christian altar at which you were taught to kneel. Thank God for an early Christian home. I bring to mind another passage in the history of your life. The day came when you set up your own household. The days passed along in quiet blessedness. You twain sat at the table morning and night and talked over your plans for the future. The most insignificant affair in your life became the subject of mutual consultation and advisement. You were so happy you felt you never could be any happier.

OUT OF THE CLOUD.

One day a dark cloud hovered over your dwelling, and it got darker and darker. But out of that cloud the shining messenger of God descended to incarnation immortal spirit. Two little feet started on an eternal journey, and you were to lead them. A gem to flash in heaven's coronet, and you to polish it. Eternal ages of light and darkness watching the starting out of a newly created being. You rejoiced and you trembled at the responsibility that in your possession an immortal treasure was placed. You prayed and rejoiced, and wept and wondered, and prayed and rejoiced, and wept and wondered. You were earnest in supplication that you might lead it through life into the kingdom of God. There was a tremor in your earnestness. There was a double interest about that home. There was an additional interest why you should stay there and be faithful, and when in a few months your house was filled with the music of the

child's laughter you were struck through with the fact that you had a stupendous mission.

Have you kept that vow? Have you neglected any of these duties? Is your home as much to you as it used to be? Have those anticipations been gratified?

God help you today in your solemn reminiscence and let his mercy fall upon your soul if your kindness has been ill requited! God have mercy on the par-

ent on the wrinkles of whose face is writ-

ten the story of a child's sin! God have mercy on the mother who in addition to her other pangs has the pang of a child's iniquity! Oh, there are many, many sad sounds in this sad world, but the saddest sound that is ever heard is the breaking of a mother's heart! Are there any here who remember that in that home they

were unfaithful? Are there those who wandered off from that early home and

left the mother to die with a broken heart? Oh, I stir that reminiscence to-day!

I find another point in your life his-

tory. You found one day you were in the wrong road; you could not sleep at

night. There was just one word that seemed to sob through your banking

house, or through your office, or your shop, or your bedroom, and that word

was "eternity." You said: "I am not ready for it. O God, have mercy!" The

Lord heard. Peace came to your heart. You remember how your hand trembled as you took the cup of the holy com-

munion. You remember the old minister who consecrated it, and you remember the church officials who carried it through the aisle. You remember the old people who at the close of the service

took your hand in theirs in congratulating sympathy, as much as to say, "Welcome home, you lost prodigal," and

though these hands have all withered away that communion Sabbath is resurrected today. It is resurrected with all its prayers and songs and tears and sermons and transfiguration. Have you kept those vows? Have you been a back-

slider? God help you! This day kneel at the foot of mercy and start again for

heaven. Stary today as you started then. I rouse your soul by that reminiscence.

But I must not spend any more of my time in going over the advantages of

your life. I just put them all in one great sheaf, and I bind them up in your

memory with one loud harvest song, such as reapers sing. Praise the Lord, ye blood bought mortals on earth! Praise the Lord, ye crowned spirits of heaven!

TRIBULATIONS. But some of you have not always had a smooth life. Some of you are now in the shadow. Others had their troubles years ago; you are a mere wreck of what you once were. I must gather up the sorrows of your past life, but how shall I do it? You say that is impossible, as you have had so many troubles and adversities. Then I will just take two, the first trouble and the last trouble.

As when you are walking along the street and there has been music in the

distance, you unconsciously find your-

selves keeping step to the music, so when you started life your very life was a mu-

sical timebeat. The air was full of joy and hilarity. With the bright, clear oar, you made the boat skip. You went on, and life grew brighter, until after awhile suddenly a voice from heaven said, "Halt!" And you halted. You grew pale. You confronted your first sorrow. You had no idea that the flush on your child's cheek was an unhealthy

flush. You said it cannot be anything serious. Death in slipped feet walked

round about the cradle. You did not hear the tread, but after awhile the truth

flashed on you. You walked the floor. Oh, if you could, with your strong, stout hand, have wrenched the child from the destroyer!

You went to your room, and you said: "God, save my child! God, save my child!" The world seemed going out in darkness. You said, "I cannot bear it, I cannot bear it!" You felt as if you could not put the lashes over the bright eyes never to see them again sparkle. Oh, if you could haven that little one in your arms and with it leaped into the grave, how gladly you would have done it! Oh, if you could let your property go, your business, your land and your storehouse go, how gladly you would have allowed them to depart if you could have only kept that one treasure! But one day there arose from the heavens a chill blast that swept over the bedroom, and instantly all the light went out, and there was darkness--thick, murky, impenetrable, shuddering darkness. But God did not leave you there. Mercy spoke. As you were about to put the cup to your lips God said, "Let it pass," and forthwith as by the hand of angels, another cup was put into your hands. It was the cup of God's consolation. And as you have sometimes lifted the head of a wounded sol-

dier and poured wine into his lips, so God puts his left arm under your head,

and with his right hand he pours into your lips the wine of his comfort and his consolation, and you looked at the empty cradle and looked at your broken heart, and you looked at the Lord's chastisement, and you said, "Even so, Father, for so it seemeth good in thy sight." Ah, it is your first trouble. How did you get over it? God comforted you. You have been a better man ever since. You have been a better woman ever since. In the jar of the closing gate of the sepulcher you heard the clanging of the opening gate of heaven, and you felt an irresistible drawing heavenward. You have been purer and holier of heart ever since that night when the little one for the last time put his arms around your neck and said: "Good night, papa.

Good night, mama. Meet me in heaven."

But I must come on down to your later sorrow. What was it? Perhaps it was

sickness. The child's tread on the stair or the tick of the watch on the stand dis-

turbs you. Through the long, weary days, you counted the figures on the carpet or

the flowers in the wall paper. Oh, the weariness and exhaustion! Oh, the burning pangs! Would God it were morning, would God it were night, were your frequent cry. But you are better--per-haps even well. Have you thanked God that today you can come out in the fresh air; that you are in this place to hear God's name, and to sing God's praise,

and to implore God's help, and to ask God's forgiveness? Bless the Lord who healeth all our diseases and redeemeth our lives from destruction.

Perhaps your last sorrow was a finan-

cial embarrassment. I congratulate some of you on your lucrative profession or occupation, on ornate apparel, on a commodious residence--everything you put your hand to seems to turn to gold. But there are others of you who are like the ship on which Paul sailed where two seas met, and you are broken by the violence of the waves. By an unadvised indorsement, or by fire or storm, or a senseless panic, you have been flung headlong, and where you once dispensed great charities now you have hard work to make the two ends meet. THANK GOD FOR PROSPERITY. Have you forgotten to thank God for your days of prosperity, and that through your trials some of you have made investments which will continue after the last bank of this world has exploded and the silver and gold are molten in fires of a burning world? Have you, amid all your losses and discouragements, forgot that there was bread on your table this morning and that there shall be shelter for your head from the storm, and there is air for your lungs and blood for your heart and light for your eye and a glad and glorious and triumphant religion for your soul? Perhaps your last trouble was a bereavement. That heart which in childhood was your refuge, the parental heart, and which has been a source of the quickest sympathy ever since, has suddenly become silent forever. And now sometimes whenever in sudden annoyance and without deliberation you say, "I will go and tell mother," the thought flashes on you, "I have no mother." Or the father, with voice less tender, but at heart as earnest and loving--watchful of all your ways, exultant over your success without saying much, although the old people do talk it over by themselves--is taken away forever. Or there was your companion in life, sharer of your joys and sorrows, taken, leaving the heart an old ruin, where the ill winds blow over a wide wilderness of desolation, the sands of the desert driving across the place which once blossomed like the garden of God. And Abraham mourns for Sarah at the cave of Machpelah. Going along your path in life, suddenly, right before you was an open grave. People looked down, and they saw it was only a few feet deep and a few feet wide, but to you it was a chasm down

which went all your hopes and all your expectations.

But cheer up in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ, the comforter. He is not going to forsake you. Did the Lord take that child out of your arms? Why, he is going to shelter it better than you could. He is going to array it in a white

robe and give it a palm branch and have it all ready to greet you at your coming home. Blessed the broken heart Jesus heals. Blessed the importunate cry that Jesus compassionates. Blessed

the weeping eye from which the soft hand of Jesus wipes away the tear.

Some years ago I was sailing down the St. John river, which is the Rome and

the Hudson commingled in one scene of beauty and grandeur, and while I was on the deck of the steamer a gentleman pointed out to me the places of interest

and he said, "All this is interval land and it is the richest land in all the provinces of New Brunswick and Nova Scotia." "What," said I, "do you mean by interval land?" "Well," he said, "this land is submerged for a part of the year. Spring freshets come down, and all these plains are overflowed with the water, and the water leaves a rich deposit, and

when the waters are gone the harvest springs up, and there is the grandest harvest that was ever reaped." And I instantly thought, "It is not the heights

of the church and it is not the heights of this world that are the scenes of the

greatest prosperity, but the soul over which the floods of sorrow have gone,

the soul over which the freshets of tribulation have torn their way, that yields the greatest fruits of righteousness, and

the largest harvest for time, and the richest harvest for eternity." Bless God that your soul is interval land.

THE LAST HOUR. But these reminiscences reach only to this morning. There is one more point

of tremendous reminiscence, and that is the last hour of life, when we have to

look over all our past existence. What a moment that will be! I place Napo-

leon's dying reminiscence on St. Helena beside Mrs. Judson's dying reminiscence

in the harbor of St. Helena--the same island--20 years after. Napoleon's dying reminiscence was one of delirium as he exclaimed, "Head of the army!" Mrs. Judson's dying reminiscence, as she came home from her missionary toil and her life of self sacrifice for God, dying in the cabin of the ship in the harbor of St. Helena, was, "I always did love the Lord Jesus Christ." And then, the historian says, she fell into a sound sleep for an hour and woke amid the songs of angels.

I place the dying reminiscence of Au-

gustus Caesar against the dying reminiscence of the Apostle Paul. The dying reminiscence of Augustus Caesar was, addressing his attendants, "Have I played my part well on the stage of life?" and they answered in the affirmative, and he said, "Why, then, don't you applaud me?" The dying reminiscence

of Paul the Apostle was: "I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course,

I have kept the faith. Henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will give me in that day, and not to me only, but to all them that love his appearing."

Augustus Caesar died amid pomp and great surroundings. Paul uttered his dying reminiscence looking up through the roof of a dungeon. God grant that our dying pillow may be the closing of a useful life and the opening of a glorious eternity.

Treatment Employed In Restoring a Well Man Who Imagined He Was Ill.

On the east side lives a physician whose success in the treatment of nervous disorders has brought to him, rather against his own wishes, considerable practice among a class whom he describes as "nervous cranks." One of these pa-

tients, a man of large means, had caused no end of trouble to the doctor, who, seeing that the case was purely one of mental idiosyncrasy, was unwilling to prescribe a course of drugging or other injurious treatment. The man insisted that his nervous system was completely unstrung and that the physician should take his case in hand. "There you can see how nervous I am," said the patient one day, in the doctor's office, as he picked up an incandescent electric light bulb from an adjoining table. "Look at that. See how that carbon coil inside of the bulb vibrates and trembles from my nervousness?" "Very well," replied the physician, determined now to deal with the case in another way, "you are more nervous than I supposed, but I think I can fetch you out all right in five or six weeks." An assortment of bogus pills and potions was given to the patient, and he was placed under a rigid rule for sleep, diet, baths and exercise. His physical health, which had been excellent to begin with, improved steadily; but his nervous condition, as indicated by the fluctuations of the incandescent bulb, which he found conveniently at hand every time he visited the doctor's office showed little or no trace of mending.

One day, however, near the end of the fourth week, the patient, upon taking the bulb from its accustomed place and holding it up to the light, was surprised to find that the vibrations of the carbon were almost nothing. Beaming with new hopefulness, he called the physician's attention to the fact. The latter was surprised and delighted. The patient tested himself with the bulb in his right hand, then changed it to his left and then repeated the operation, always with the same gratifying result. The treatment had done its work. He felt like a well man. He was satisfied from the first that those pills would fix him.

"He sailed for Europe the other day," remarked the physician, "and as he is to remain abroad for five years I guess there is no danger of his learning how I cured him. He was so taken with the idea of testing the condition of his nervous system by the vibrations of the carbon in that electric light bulb that I humored his fancy. After three or four weeks of careful living, when he had put himself into first class physical condition, I simply changed the bulbs for him. For the ordinary bulb containing a carbon coil I substituted the one that I had made with a fine coil of oxidized

silver wire closely resembling the other and which was so stiff that it was capable of almost no vibration when the bulb was held in the patient's hand. He took

it, saw that the vibrations had ceased and concluded that he was cured.

"In some way, perhaps by accident or when in condition of mental excitement, he had noticed the trembling of the carbon in a bulb when held in the hand, and had instantly made up his mind that he was suffering from nervous disorder. He insisted upon using the same means in testing his progress toward recovery that had first persuaded him that he was ill, and I was compelled to acquiesce and treat him from that basis. He had evidently had little experience with these bulbs. Ordinary tests and observation would have shown him that no man, however sound, can hold an incandescent bulb in his unsupported hand so steadily that the carbon inside it will not vi-brate."--New York Herald.

Street Cars Run by Natural Gas.

The cars are of the ordinary size, but are constructed entirely of natural gas pipes, ranging in size from six inches down. These hollow tubes are neatly carved, so that to the average observer the fact that they are built of such material is not noticed. These pipes are heavily charged with has, and with the aid of a boiler and the engines at work beneath the floor it is said a run of 30 miles can be made without refilling the tubes. A speed can be obtained equal to that of cars run by the electric method. It is said that one of the latter will cost $6,000 for its construction, while a gas car can be made for $2,000. Either artificial or natural gas can be used as the propelling power. It is further asserted by its inventor that to operate it a day of 12 hours will cost but $1.14, while the expense of running an electric car for the same period will be $6.--Indianapolis Sentinel. The Ever Ready Hairpin. Not long since a Long Island girl while driving a friend to the station upset the village cart and broke one of the traces, which she deftly mended with a hairpin and got her guest to the station in time for the train. But as the smoke of the approaching locomotive showed its white feather in the distance it was discovered that during the accident the friend's dress had been torn quite off the band. "I cannot possibly go to town like this!" she cried in dismay, holding up several breadths with the gathers completely unripped. Ever equal to the emergency, the fair Long Islander drew out several hairpins from her braids, shook back her flying tresses, ran one

hairpin through half of the loosened folds, made a hook at the end so that it

could not slip, gathered up the rest on another, fastened it in the same way,

secured the whole to the hand with a third, and finished just as the train came

steaming up, so that her visitor went on her way rejoicing, none the worse for her exciting experience.--New York Tribune.

OCEAN CITY

A Moral Seaside Resort. Not Excelled as a Health Restorer. Finest facilities for FISHING, Sailing, Gunning, etc. The Liquor Traffic and its kindred evils are forever prohibited by deed. Every lover of Temperance and Morals should combine to help us. Water Supply, Railroad, Steamboats And all other Modern Conveniences.

Thousands of lots for sale at various prices, located in all parts of the city.

For information apply to E. B. LAKE, Secretary, Ocean City Asso'n, SIXTH ST. & ASBURY AVE.

W. L. SMITH & SON, Cheap Philadelphia Store. 34th Street and Asbury avenue, OCEAN CITY, N. J. Goods delivered free. Patronage desired.

Flagging & Curbing. GET THE BEST STONE FLAGGING and CURBING Never wears out. No second expense.

For terms and contracts consult Robert Fisher, my agent for Ocean City. DENNIS MAHONEY.

D. S. SAMPSON, DEALER IN

Stoves, Heaters, Ranges, PUMPS, SINKS, &C., Cor. Fourth Street and West Avenue, OCEAN CITY, N. J. Tin roofer and sheet-iron worker. All kinds of Stove Casting furnished at short notice. Gasoline Stoves a specialty. All work guaranteed as represented. FINNERTY, McCLURE & CO., DRUGGISTS AND CHEMISTS 112 Market Street, Philadelphia. Dealers in Pure Drugs, Chemicals, Patent Medicines, Paints, Oils, etc.

H. GERLACH & CO., DEALERS IN

Clocks, Watches, Jewelry & Diamonds, 2631 Germantown Avenue, PHILADELPHIA, PA.

Watches, Jewelry, etc. skillfully repaired. Articles or orders left with H. Gerlach, Sixteenth and Asbury, Ocean City, will receive prompt attention.

ISRAEL G. ADAMS & CO., Real Estate and Insurance AGENTS. 2031 ATLANTIC AVE., Atlantic City, N. J. Commissioner of Deeds for Pennsylvania. Money to loan on first mortgage. Lots for sale at South Atlantic City. ST. ALBAN, HOTEL and CAFE, N. W. Cor. Second and Walnut St., PHILADELPHIA. Steam Heated. Modern Improvements. First Class Appointments. Rates Reasonable. Rooms per Night 50c, 75c, and $1.00. ROBT. M. SNYDER, Manager.

WANTED.--On improved property at Ocean City, N. J., $1200 on bond and mortgage. Address "R," Ocean City, N. J.

DESIRABLE COTTAGES FOR SALE OR RENT.

If you intend visiting the seashore the coming season, communicate with

R. CURTIS ROBINSON,

Real Estate and Insurance Agent,

744 ASBURY AVENUE, OCEAN CITY, N. J. who has on hand a number of desirable furnished and unfurnished cottages. Full information furnished on application. Building lots for sale in every section of the city. I also have 150 lots near Thirty-eighth street, which I will offer to a syndicate, five lots to the share.

Money to loan on Bond and Mortgage on improved property.

SCUDDER LUMBER CO., PLANING MILL, SASH FACTORY AND LUMBER YARDS MANUFACTURERS OF Doors, Window Frames, Shutters, Sash, Moldings, Brackets Hot Bed Sash, Scroll Work, Turning, &c. ALSO DEALERS IN BUILDING LUMBER OF EVERY DESCRIPTION, OF WHICH A LARGE STOCK IS CONSTANTLY ON HAND, UNDER COVER, WELL SEASONED AND SOLD AT LOWEST MARKET PRICES. FRONT AND FEDERAL STREETS, CAMDEN, N. J.

SCUDDER LUMBER CO., PLANING MILL, SASH FACTORY AND LUMBER YARDS MANUFACTURERS OF Doors, Window Frames, Shutters, Sash, Moldings, Brackets Hot Bed Sash, Scroll Work, Turning, &c. ALSO DEALERS IN BUILDING LUMBER OF EVERY DESCRIPTION, OF WHICH A LARGE STOCK IS CONSTANTLY ON HAND, UNDER COVER, WELL SEASONED AND SOLD AT LOWEST MARKET PRICES. FRONT AND FEDERAL STREETS, CAMDEN, N. J.

Y. CORSON,

REAL ESTATE AGENT, AND LICENSED AUCTIONEER, No. 721 Asbury Avenue, OCEAN CITY, N. J. Properties for sale. Boarding Houses and Cottages for Rent in all parts of the city. Correspondence solicited.

WM. LAKE, C. E., REAL ESTATE AGENT,

Surveying, Conveyancing, Commissioner of Deeds, Notary Public, Master in Chancery. Sec'y Ocean City Building and Loan Association.

Lots for Sale or Exchange. Houses to rent, furnished or unfurnished. Deeds, Bonds, Mort-

gages, Wills and Contracts carefully drawn. Abstracts of titles carefully prepared. Experience of more than twenty-five years. Office--Sixth Street and Asbury Avenue. P. O. Box 825. WM. LAKE.

Honesty is the best policy.—B. Franklin. Therefore get the policies issued at the office of H. B Adams & Co., by HONEST, Sound, Liberal, Solid and Successful Fire Insurance Companies. Your choice of 18 of the best American and English Companies.

LOTS FOR SALE

in all parts of the city. Hotels and Cottages for Sale or Rent. Money to loan on mortgages. H. B. ADAMS & CO., Eighth Street, opposite W. J. R. R. Station, OCEAN CITY, N. J.

E. B. LAKE, SUPERINTENDENT OF

OCEAN CITY ASSOCIATION From its Organization, and also REAL ESTATE AGENT Having thousands of Building Lots for sale at various prices, Some very Cheap and located in all parts of Ocean City. Now is the time to purchase property before the second railroad comes, as then property will greatly advance. I have a good many Inquiries for Property between 6th and 12th streets. Any one having property for sale might do well to give me their prices. All persons desiring to Buy, or Sell, or Exchange property, would do well before closing any transaction to call on or address E. B. LAKE, Association Office, No. 621 Asbury Ave., Ocean City, N. J.

F. L. ARCHAMBAULT. I am offering Diamonds, Watches, Jewlelery, Silver Plated and Solid Silver Ware, Handsome Table and Banquet Lamps during this month at the very lowest prices, and my success has been owing just to such special

inducements.

I feel there is no excuse for one not to enjoy a good time-keeper, when prices are from $10 to $15 in coin silver cases. Have a Watch, be on time. FRANK L. ARCHAMBAULT, JEWELER, No. 106 Market Street, PHILADELPHIA, PA.