THE RESURRECTION.

DR. TALMAGE SPEAKS OF PAUL'S BOLD CHALLENGE.

The Sublime Tragedy of Calvary--The Les-

sons of Christ's Death and the Resurrection. His Intercessions For Us--The Consola-

tions of Christianity. BROOKLYN, Aug. 13.--Rev. Dr. Tal-

mage today chose for his subject "A Bold Challenge," the text being Romans viii, 34: "Who is he that condemneth? It

is Christ that died, yea, rather that is risen again, who is even at the right hand of God, who also maketh intercession for us." "This is the last sermon I shall ever preach," said Christmas Evans on the 138th of June, 1838. Three days after-

ward he expired. I do not know what his text was, but I know that no man could choose a better theme--though he knew it was the last time he should ever preach--than the subject found in this text.

Paul flung this challenge of the text to the feet of all ecclesiastical and civil authority. He feared neither swords nor lions, earth nor hell. Diocletian slew un-

counted thousands under his administra-

tion, and the world has been full of persecution, but all the persecutors of the world could not affright Paul. Was it because he was physically strong? Oh, no. I suppose he was very much weakened by exposure and maltreatment. Was it because he was lacking in sensi-

tiveness? No. You find the most deli-

cat shades of feeling playing in and out his letters and sermons. Some of his communications burst into tears. What was it that lifted Paul into this triumph-

and mood? The thought of a Saviour dead, a Saviour risen, a Saviour exalted, a Saviour interceding.

All the world has sung the praise of Princess Alice. One child having died of a contagious disease, she was in the

room where another was dying, and the court physician said to her, "You must not breathe the breath of this child, or you yourself will die." But seeing the

child mourning because of the death of her brother, the mother stooped down and in sympathy kissed the little one caught the disease and perished. All the

world sang of the heroism and the self sacrifice of Princess Alice, but I have to tell you that when our race was dying the Lord Jesus stooped down and gave us the kiss of his everlasting love and perished that we might live. "It is Christ that died."

Can you tell me how tender hearted Paul could find anything to rejoice at in the horrible death scene of Calvary? We weep at funerals; we are sympathetic when we see a stranger die; when a mur-

derer steps upon the scaffold we pray for his departing spirit, and how could Paul--the great hearted Paul--find anything to be pleased with at the funeral of a God? Besides that Christ had only re-

cently died, and the sorrow was fresh in the memory of the world, and how in the fresh memory of a Saviour's death could Paul be exultant?

DELIVERANCE BY DEATH. It was because Paul saw that in death his own deliverance and the deliverance of a race from still worse disaster. He saw the gap into which the race must plunge, and he saw the bleeding hands of Christ close it. The glittering steel on the top of the executioner's spear in his sight kindled into a torch to light men heavenward. The persecutors saw over the cross five words written in Hebrew, Greek and Latin, but Paul saw over the cross of Christ only one word--"expiation!" He heard in the dying groan of Christ his own groan of eternal torture taken by another. Paul said to himself, "Had it not been that Christ volunteered in my behalf, those would have been my mauled hands and feet, my gasher side, my crimson temples." Men of great physical endurance have sometimes carried very heavy burdens--300 pounds, 400 pounds--and they have still said: "My strength is not yet tested. Put on more weight." But after awhile they were compelled to cry out: "Stop! I can carry no more." But the burden of Christ was illimitable. First, there was his own burden of hunger and thirst and bereavement and a thousand outrages that have been heaped upon him, and on top of that burden were the sorrows of his poor old mother, and on the top of those burdens the crimes of the ruffians who were executing him. "Stop!" you cry. "It is enough. Christ can bear no more." And Christ says, "Roll on more burdens; roll on me the sins of this entire nation, and after that roll on me the sins of the inhabited earth, and then roll on me the sins of the 4,000 years past, so far as those sins have been forgiven." And the angels of God, seeing the awful pressure, cry: "Stop! He can bear no more." And the blood rushing to the nostril and lip seems to cry out: "Enough! He can endure no more." But Christ says: "Roll on a greater burden, roll on the sins of the next 1,300 years, roll on me the sins of all the succeeding ages, roll on me the agonies of hell, ages on ages, the furnaces and the prison houses and the tortures." That is what the Bible means when it says, "He bore our sins, and carried our sorrows." "Now," says Paul, "I am free. That suffering purchased my deliverance. God never collects a debt twice. I have a receipt in full. If God is satisfied with me, then what do all the threats of earth and hell amount to? Bring on all your witnesses," says Paul. "Show all your

force. Do your worst against my soul. I defy you. I dare you. I challenge

you. Who is he that condemneth? It is Christ that died." Oh, what a strong argument that puts in the hand of every

Christian man! Some day all the past sins of his life come down on him in a fiery troop, and they pound away at the

gate of his soul, and they say: "We have come for your arrest. Any one of us could overcome you. We are 10,000 strong. Surrender!" And you open the

door, and single handed and alone you contend against that troop. You fling this divine weapon into their midst. You scatter those sins as quick as you can think it.

"It is Christ that died." Why, then, bring up to us the sins of our past life?

What have we to do with these obsolete things? You know how hard it is for a wrecker to bring up anything that is lost near the shore of the sea, but suppose something be lost half way between Liverpool and New York. It cannot be found; it cannot be fetched up. "Now," says God, "your sins have been cast into the depths of the sea." Mid-Atlantic! All the machinery ever fashioned in foundries of darkness and launched from the doors of eternal death, working for 10,400 years, cannot bring up one of our sins forgiven and forgotten and sunken

into the depths of the sea. When a sin is pardoned, it is gone. It is gone out of the books; it is gone out of the memory;

it is gone out of existence. "Their sins and their iniquities will I remember no more." THE SUBLIME TRAGEDY. From other tragedies men have come away exhausted and nervous and sleepless, but there is one tragedy that soothes and calms and saves. Calvary was the stage on which it was enacted, the curtain of the night falling at midnoon was the drop scene, the thunder of falling rocks the orchestra, angels in the galleries and devils in the pit the spectators, the tragedy a crucifixion. "It is Christ that died." Oh, triumphant thought! If you go through the picture galleries of Versailles, you will find a great change there. I said to a friend who had been through those galleries, "Are they as they were before the French war?" and I was told there was a great change there; that all multitude of pictures which represented Napoleonic triumphs had been taken away, and in the frames were other pictures representative of Germanic success and victory. Oh, that all the scenes of satanic triumph in our world might be blotted out, and that the whole world might be a picture gallery representing the triumphant Jesus! Down with the monarchy of transgression! Up with the monarchy of our King! Hail! Jesus, hail! But I must give you the second cause of Paul's exhilaration. If Christ had staid in that grave, we never would have gotten out of it. The grave would have been dark and dismal as the conciergie during the reign of terror, where the carts came up only to take the victims out to the scaffold. I do not wonder that the ancients tried by embalmment of the body to resist the dissolution of death.

The grave is the darkest, deepest, ghastliest chasm that was ever opened if there be no light from the resurrec-

tion throne streaming into it, but Christ staid in the tomb all Friday night and all Saturday, all Saturday night and a part of Sunday morning. He staid so

long in the tomb that he might fit it for us when we go there. He tarried two whole nights in the grave, so that he saw how important it was to have plenty of light, and he has flooded it with his own glory.

THE RESURRECTION. It is early Sunday morning, and we start up to find the grave of Christ. We find the morning sun gilding the dew, and the shrubs are sweet as the foot

crushes them. What a beautiful place to be buried in! Wonder they did not treat Christ as well when he was alive

as they do now that he is dead. Give the military salute to the soldiers who stand guarding the dead. But hark to the crash--an earthquake! The soldiers fall back as though they were dead, and the stone at the door of Christ's tomb spins down the hill, flung by the arm of an angel. Come forth, O Jesus, from the darkness into the sunlight! Come forth and breathe the perfume of Joseph's garden.

Christ comes forth radiant, and as he steps out of the excavation of the rock I look down into the excavation, and in the distance I see others coming hand in hand and troop after troop, and I find it is a long procession of the precious

dead. Among them are our own loved ones--father, mother, brother, sister, companion, children, coming up out of the excavation of the rock until the last one has stepped out into the light, and I am bewildered, and I cannot understand the scene until I see Christ wave his hand over the advancing procession from the rock and hear him cry: "I am the resurrection and the life. He who believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live." And then I notice that the long dirge of the world's woe suddenly stops at the archangelic shout of "Come forth!" Oh, my friends, if Christ had not broken out of the grave you and I would never come out of it! It would have been another case of Charlotte Corday attempting to slay a tyrant, herself slain. It would have been another case of John Brown attempting to free the slaves, himself hung. It would have been Death and Christ in a grapple and Death the victory. The black flag would have floated on all the graves and mausoleums of the dead, and hell would have conquered the forces of heaven and captured the ramparts of God, and satan would have come to coronation in the palaces of heaven, and it would have been devils on the throne and sons of God in the dungeon. DEATH IS A SIESTA. No! no! no! When that stone was rolled from the door of Christ's grave, it was hurled with such a force that it crashed in all the grave doors of Christendom, and now the tomb is only a bower where God's children take a siesta, an afternoon nap, to wake up in mighty invigoration. "Christ is risen." Hang that lamp among all the tombs of my dead. Hang it over my own resting

place. Christ's suffering is ended; his work is done. The darkest Friday aft-

ernoon of the world's history becomes the brightest Sunday morning of its resurrection joy. The Good Friday of bitter memories becomes the Easter of glorious transformation and resurrection. Ye mourning saints, dry every tear For your departed Lord. Behold the place. He is not here. The tomb is all unbarred. The gates of death were closed in vain. The Lord is risen, he lives again.

I give you the third cause of Paul's ex-

hilaration. We honor the right hand more than we do the left. If in accident or battle we must lose one hand, let it be the left. The left hand being nearer the heart, we may not do much of the violent work of life with that hand without physical danger, but he who has the right arm in full play has the mightiest of all earthly weapons. In all ages and in all languages, the right hand is the symbol of strength and power and honor. Hiram sat at the right hand of Solomon. Then we have the term, "He is a right hand man." Marshal Ney was Napoleon's right hand man. And now you have the meaning of Paul when he speaks of Christ who is at the right hand of God. That means he is the first guest of heaven. He has a right to sit there. The hero of the universe! Count his wounds; two in the feet, two in the hands, one in the side--five wounds. Oh, you have counted wrong. These are not half the wounds. Look at the serverer wounds in the temples. Each thorn an excruciation. CHRIST'S WOUNDS. If a hero comes back from battle, and he takes off his hat or rolls up his sleeve and shows you the scar of a wound gotten at Ball's Bluff or at South Moun-

tain, you stand in admiration at his hero-

ism and patriotism, but if Christ should make conspicuous the five wounds gotten on Calvary--that Waterloo of all the ages--he would display only a small part of his wounds. Wounded all over, let him sit at the right hand of God. He has a right to sit there. By the request of God the Father and the unanimous suffrage of all heaven let him sit there. In the grand review when the redeemed pass by in cohorts of splendor they will look at him and shout, "Victory!" The oldest inhabitant of heaven never saw a grander day than the one when Christ took his place on the right hand of God. Hosanna! With lips of clay I may not appropriately utter it, but let the martyrs under the altar throw the cry to the elders before the throne, and they can toss it to the choir on the sea of glass until all heaven shall lift it--some on point of scepter, and some on string of harp, and some on the tip of the green branches. Hosanna! hosanna! A fourth cause of Paul's exhilaration: After a clergyman had preached a sermon in regard to the glories of heaven and the splendors of the scene an aged woman said, "If all that is to go on in heaven, I don't know what will become of my poor head." Oh, my friends, there will be so many things going on in heaven I have sometimes wondered if the Lord would not forget you and me! Perhaps Paul said sometimes: "I wonder God does not forget me down here in Antioch, and in the prison, and in the shipwreck. There are so many sailors,

so many wayfarers, so many prisoners, so many heartbroken men," says Paul,

"perhaps God may forget me. And then I am so vile a sinner. How I whipped those Christians! With what vengeance I mounted that cavalry horse and dashed up to Damascus! Oh, it will take a mighty attorney to plead my cause and get me free." But just at that moment there came in upon Paul's soul some-

thing mightier than the surges that dashes his ship into Melita, swifter than the horse he rode to Damascus. It was the swift and overwhelming thought of Christ's intercession.

My friends, we must have an advocate. A poor lawyer is worse than no lawyer at all. We must have one who is able

successfully to present our cause before God. Where is he? Who is here? There is only one advocate in all the universe that can plead our cause in the last judg-

ment, that can plead our cause before God in the great tribunal. CHRIST IS AN ADVOCATE. Sometimes in earthly courts attorneys have specialties, and one man succeeds better in patent cases, another in insur-

and cases, another in criminal cases, another in land cases, another in will cases, and his success generally depends upon his sticking to that specialty. I have to tell you that Christ can do many things, but it seems to me that his specialty is to take the bad case of the sin-

ner and plead it before God, until he gets eternal acquittal. Oh, we must have him for our advocate.

But what plea can he make? Sometimes an attorney in court will plead the innocence of the prisoner. That would be inappropriate for us. We are all guilty! guilty! Unclean! unclean! Christ, our advocate, will not plead our innocence. Sometimes the attorney in court tries to prove an alibi. He says: "This prisoner was not at the scene. He was in some other place at the time." Such a plea will not do in our case. The Lord found us all in our sins and in the very place of our iniquity. It is impossible to prove an alibi. Sometimes an attorney will plead the insanity of the prisoner and say he is irresponsible on that account. That plea will never do in our case. We sinned against the light, against knowledge, against the dictates of our own consciences. We knew what we were doing. What, then, shall the plea be?

The plea for our eternal deliverance will be Christ's own martyrdom. He will say: "Look at all these wounds. By all these sufferings I demand the rescue of this man from sin and death and hell. Constable, knock off the shackles--let the prisoner go free." "Who is he that condemneth? It is Christ that died, yea, rather that is risen again, who is even at the right hand of God, who also maketh intercession for us." But why all this gladness on the faces of these sons and daughters of the Lord Almighty? I know what you are thinking of. A Saviour dead; a Saviour risen; a Saviour exalted; a Saviour interceding. "What," say you, "is all that for me?" All, all! Never let me hear you complaining about anything again. With your pardoned sin behind you, and a successful Christ pleading above you, and a glorious heaven before you, how can you be despondent about anything? COME INTO THE KINGDOM. "But," says some man in the audience, "all that is very good and very true for

those who are inside the kingdom but how about those of us who are outside?"

Then, I say, Come into the kingdom, come out of the prison house into the glorious sunlight of God's mercy and pardon, and come now. It was in the last days of the reign of terror--the year 1793. Hundreds and thousands had perished under the French guillotine. France groaned with the tyrannies of Robespierre and the Jacobin club. The last group of sufferers had had their locks shorn by Monchotte, the prison barber, so that the neck might be bare to the keen knife of the guillotine.

The carts came up to the prison, the poor wretches were placed in the carts

and driven off toward the scaffold, but while they were going toward the scaffold

there was an outcry in the street, and then the shock of firearms, and then the cry: "Robespierre has fallen! Down with the Jacobins! Let France be free!" But the armed soldiers rode in upon these rescuers, so that the poor wretches in the carts were taken on to the scaffold and horribly died. But that very night these monsters of persecution were seized, and Robespierre perished under the very guillotine that he had reared for others, all France clapping their hands with joy as his head rolled into the executioner's basket. Then the axes of the excited populace were heard pounding against the gates of the prison, and the poor prisoners walked out free. My friends, sin is the worst of all Robespierres. It is the tyrant of tyrants. It has built a prison house for our soul. It plots our death. It as shorn for us the sacrifice; but, blessed be God, this morning we hear the axes of God's gracious deliverance pounding against the door of our prison.

Deliverance has come. Light breaks through all the wards of the prison.

Revolution! Revolution! "Where sin abounded, grace does much more abound; that whereas sin reigned, unto death even so grace may reign unto eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord." Glorious truth! A Saviour dead; a Saviour risen; a Saviour exalted; a Saviour interceding!

Peculiarities of Senators. Twenty of the senators served in the Confederate army during the war and 16 in the Union army. The man with the longest time to serve is Edward O. Wal-

thal of Grenada, Miss., who has been reelected by the legislature of his state for

the term ending 1901. The most cultured senator is Henry Cabot Lodge of Massachusetts, who is an author, artist, linguist, scholar and society man. The handsomest is Charles H. Gibson of Maryland. The most senatorial is Alfred H. Colquitt of George, whose father and grandfather say in the senate before him. The haughtiest is J. Donald Cameron of Pennsylvania, whose unique distinction it is never to say a word in the senate unless he moves to adjourn. The richest, now that Stanford is dead, would seem to be John P. Jones of Nevada, who bestows gold dollars on the beggars of Washington. The one most celebrated outside of his own country is John Sherman. The most abused is Matthew Stanley Quay of Pennsylvania. The most punctilious is Calvin S. Brice of Ohio, who changes his shirt three times every day. The most temperate is David B. Hill of New York, who neither drinks, smokes, swears, gambles nor eats dain-

ties. The strongest is William B. Alli-

son of Iowa, who could almost fell an ox with his fist.--Cincinnati Commercial Gazette.

The O. P. F. President.

In an article on the scarcity of money one of the leading New York journals remarked "that nothing like such a stringency in money matters had been known

but once since the days of the 'O. P. F.' president." A reader who "reads and re-

flects on these things," writes to the editor to inquire who the O. P. F. president was and how the sobriquet was bestowed. In answer to this I will say: The letters of O. P. F. stand for Old Public Functionary, a nickname sometimes applied to James Buchanan. He be-

stowed the nickname upon himself in his annual message to congress in 1859, in which the following expression occurred:

"This advice proceeds from the heart of an old public functionary, one whose

services commenced in the last generation, among the wise and conservative statesmen of that day, now nearly all passed away, and whose first and dearest wish is to leave his country tranquil, prosperous, united and powerful."--St. Louis Republic. Curiosities of Glycerin. One of the great advantages of glycerin in its chemical employment is the fact that it neither freezes nor evaporates under any ordinary temperature. No perceptible loss by evaporation has been detected at a temperature less than 200 degrees F., but if heated intensely it decomposes with a smell that few persons find themselves able to endure. It burns with a pale flame, similar to that from alcohol, if heated to about 300 degrees and then ignited. Its nonevaporative qualities make the compound of much use as a vehicle for holding pigments and colors, as in stamping and typewriter ribbons, carbon papers and the like.

If the pure glycerine be exposed for a long time to a freezing temperature, it

crystallizes with the appearance of sugar candy, but these crystals being once melted it is almost an impossibility to get them again into the congealed state. If a little water be added to the glycerin, no crystallization will take place, though under a sufficient degree of cold the water will separate and form crystals, amid which the glycerin will remain in its natural state of fluidity. If suddenly subjected to intense cold, pure glycerin will form a gummy mass which cannot be entirely hardened or

crystallized. Altogether it is quite a peculiar substance.--Good Housekeeping.

Forewarned of Her Child's Death.

A few month's after my father's death the infant son, who had been pining himself ill for "papa," was lying one night in his mother's arms. On the next morning she said to her sister, "Alf is going to die." The child had no definite disease, but was wasting away, and it was argued to her that the returning spring would restore the health lost during the winter. "No," was her answer. "He was lying asleep in my arms last night, and William (her husband) came to me and said that he wanted Alf with

him, but that I might keep the other two." In vain she was assured that she

had been dreaming; that it was quite natural that she should dream about her husband, and that her anxiety for the

child had given the dream its shape. Nothing would persuade her that she

had not seen her husband or that the information he had given her was not true.

So it was no matter of surprise to her

when in the following March her arms

were empty and a waxen form lay lifeless in the baby's cot.--Mrs. Annie Besant. Tragedy of Literary Disappointment. An English periodical says disappointment in authorship over there sometimes has tragic results. Recently a gentleman committed suicide because he had had an article rejected, and a confectioner's assistant shot himself because, though he had written several books,

they were all rejected. The article goes

on sagely: "Yet he went on writing to the last, unable to see that he was pro-

ducing what was not wanted. Nowa-

days there is a market for what is good

in any class of literature, and the writer

who cannot secure a publisher may rest

assured either that he is not ready for a public appearance, or that he has been

denied the gifts with which he fancies himself to be endowed."

The Dwarf Palm of Algeria. The dwarf palm, which furnishes considerable quantities of fiber, grows in great profusion in Algeria and is one of the principal obstacles to the clearing of the land, so thickly does it grow and so difficult to pull up. Its roots, in shape resembling carrots, penetrate into the ground to the depth of a yard or more, and when its stem only is cut it sprouts out again almost immediately. As its name indicates, this palm is very small, and can only attain a certain height when protected, as in the Arab cemeteries, for example.--Monde Economique. _____ The total amount contributed to the Presbyterian churches during the past year was over $14,000,000.

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.

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.

D. GALLAGHER, DEALER IN FINE FURNITURE, 43 So. Second St., PHILADELPHIA, PA.

WM. E. KERN. Civil Engineer AND Surveyor, Steelmanville, N. J. Special attention given to complicated surveys.

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.

HOTEL BRIGHTON,

R. R. SOOY, Proprietor. SEVENTH AND OCEAN AVENUE OCEAN CITY, NEW JERSEY. FIRST-CLASS HOUSE. DIRECTLY ON THE BEACH.

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.

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, Mortgages, 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. 601 Asbury Ave., Ocean City, N. J.