MOMENTOUS TRIFLES. REV. DR. TALMAGE PREACHES AN INTERESTING SERMON IN MOBILE.

"Unappreciated Services" Taken as the Subject of the Text--Little Things of Great Results--Nothing Is Insignificant. The Escape In a Basket.

MOBILE, March 11.--Rev. T. De Witt Talmage, D. D., who is now visiting the south, selected as the subject of today's sermon "Unappreciated Services," the text being taken from II Corinthians xi, 33, "Through a window, in a basket, was I let down by the wall."

Damascus is a city of white and glistening architecture sometimes called "the eye of the east," sometimes called "a peal surrounded by emeralds," at one time distinguished for swords of the best material, called Damascus blades, and upholstery of riches fabric, called damasks.

A horsemen of the name Paul, rid-

ing toward this city, had been thrown from the saddle. The horse had dropped under a flash from the sky, which at the same time was so bright it blinded the rider for many days, and I think so per-

manently injured his eyesight that this defect of vision became the thorn in the flesh he afterward speaks of. He started for Damascus to butcher Christians, but after that hard fall from his horse he was a changed man and preached Christ in Damascus till the city was shaken to its foundation.

CRY OF THE MOB. The mayor gives authority for his arrest, and the popular cry is: "Kill him! Kill him!" The city is surrounded by a high wall, and the gates are watched by the police lest the Cilician preacher escape. Many of the houses are built on the wall, and their balconies projected clear over and hovered above the gardens outside. It was customary to lower baskets out of these balconies and pull up fruits and flowers from the gardens. To this day visitors at the monastery of Mount Sinai are lifted and let down in baskets.

Detectives prowled around from house to house looking for Paul, but his friends

hid him, now in one place, now in another. He is no coward, as 50 incidents in his life demonstrate. But he feels his work is not done yet, and so he evades assassination. "Is that preacher here?" the foaming mob shout at one house door. "Is that fanatic here?" the police shout at another house door. Sometimes on the street incognito he passes through a crowd of clinched fists, and sometimes he secretes himself on the housetops. At last the infuriated populace get on sure track of him.

They have positive evidence that he is in the house of one of the Christians, the balcony of whose home reaches over the wall. "Here he is! Here he is!" the vo-

ciferation and blasphemy and howling of the pursuers are at the front door.

They break in. "Fetch out that gospel-

izer and let us hang his head on the city gate. Where is he?" The emergency was terrible. Providentially there was a good stout basket in the house. Paul's friends fasten a rope to the basket. Paul steps into it. The basket is lifted to the edge of the balcony on the wall, and then while Paul holds on to the rope with both

hands his friends lower away, carefully and cautiously, slowly, but surely, farther down and farther down, until the basket strikes the earth and the apostle steps out, and afoot and alone starts on that famous missionary tour, the story of which has astonished earth and heaven. Appropriate entry in Paul's diary of travels, "Through a window, in a basket, was I let down by the wall." SLENDER THREADS. Observe first on what a slender tenure great results hang. The ropemaker who twisted that cord fastened to that lowering basket never knew how much would depend on the strength of it. How if it had been broken, and the apostle's life had been dashed out? What would have become of the Christian church? All that magnificent missionary work in Paraphylia, Capadocis, Galatia, Macedonia, would have never been accomplished. All his writings that make up so indispensable and enchanting a part of the New Testament would never have been written. The story of resurrection would never have been so gloriously told as he told it. That example of heroic

and triumphant endurance at Philippi, in the Mediterranean eurocyldon, under flagellation and at his beheading would not have kindled the courage of 10,000 martyrdoms. But the rope holding that basket, how much depended on it! So again and again great results have hung on what seemed slender circumstances.

Did ever ship of many thousand tons crossing the sea have such important passenger as had once a boat of leaves, from taffrail to stern only three or four feet, the vessel made waterproof by a coat bitumen and floating on the Nile with the infant lawgiver of the Jews on board? What if some crocodile should crunch it? What if some of the cattle wading in for a drink should sink it? Vessels of war sometimes carry 40 guns looking through the portholes, ready to open battle. But that tiny craft on the Nile seems to be armed with all the guns of thunder that bombarded Sinai at the lawgiving. On how fragile craft sailed how much of historical importance! The parsonage at Epworth, England, is on fire in the night, and the father rushed through the hallway for the rescue of his children. Seven children are out and safe on the ground, but one re-

mains in the consuming building. That one wakes, and finding his bed on fire and the building crumbling, comes to the window, and two peasants make a ladder of their bodies, one peasant stand-

ing on the shoulder of the other, and down the human ladder the boy de-scends--John Wesley. If you would know how much depended on that ladder of peasants, ask the millions of Methodists on both sides of the sea. Ask their

mission stations all round the world. Ask the hundreds of thousands already ascended to join their founder, who would have perished but for the living stair of peasant's shoulders.

An English ship stopped at Pitcairn island, and right in the midst of surrounding cannibalism and squalor the passengers discovered a Christian colony of churches and schools and beautiful homes and highest style of religion and civilization. For 50 years no missionary and no Christian influence had landed

there. Why this oasis of light amid a desert of heathendom? Sixty years before a ship had met disaster, and one of the sailors, unable to save anything else, went to his trunk and took out a Bible which his mother had placed there and swam ashore, the Bible held in his teeth. The book was read on all sides until the rough and vicious population were evangelized, and a church was started, and an enlightened commonwealth established, and the world's history has no more brilliant page than that which tells of the transformation of a nation by one book. It did not seem of much importance whether the sailor continued to hold the book in his teeth or let it fall in the breakers, but upon what small circumstance depended what mighty results!

Practical inference--there are no in-

significances in our lives. The minutest thing is part of a magnitude. Infinity is made up of infinitesimals; great things an aggregation of small things. Bethle-

hem manger pulling on a star in the east-

ern sky. One book in a drenched sailor's mouth the evangelization of a multitude. One boat of papyrus on the Nile freight-

ed with events for all ages. The fate of Christendom in a basket let down from a window on the wall. What you do, do well. If you make a rope, make it strong and true, for you know not how much may depend on your workmanship. If you fashion a boat, let it be waterproof, for you know not who may sail in it.

If you put a Bible in the trunk of a young boy as he goes from home, let it be heard in your prayers, for it may have a mis-

sion as farreaching as the book which the sailor carried in his teeth to the Pitcairn beach. The plainest man's life is an island between two eternities--eter-nity past rippling against his shoulders, eternity to come touching his brow. The casual, the accidental, that which merely happened so, are parts of a great plan, and the rope that lets the fugitive apostle from the Damascus wall is the cable that holds to its mooring the ship of the church in the northeast storm of the cen-

turies.

THEY HELD THE ROPE. Again, notice unrecognized and unrecorded services. Who spun that rope? Who tied it to the basket? Who steadied the illustrious preacher as he stepped into it? Who relaxed not a muscle of the arm or dismissed an anxious look from his face until the basket touched the

ground and discharged its magnificent cargo? Not one of their names has come to us, but there was no work done that day in Damascus or in all the earth compared with the importance of their work. What if they had in their agitation tied a knot that could slip? What if the sound of the mob at the door had led them to say, "Paul must take care of himself, and we will take care of ourselves." No, no! They held the rope, and in doing so they did more for the Christian church than any thousand of us will ever ac-

complish. But God knows and has made eternal record of their undertaking. And they know.

How exultant they must have felt when they read his letters to the Ro-

mans, to the Corinthians, to the Philip-

pians, to the Colossians, to the Thessa-

lonians, to Timothy, to Titus, to Philemon, to the Hebrews, and when they heard how he walked out of prison with the earthquake unlocking the door for him and took command of the Alexan-

drian corn ship when the sailors were nearly scared to death and preached a sermon that nearly shook Felix off his judgment seat! I hear the men and women who helped him down through the window and over the wall talking in private over the matter, and saying:

"How glad I am that we effected that rescue! In coming times others may get the glory of Paul's work, but no one shall rob us of the satisfaction of knowing that we held the rope."

There are said to be about 69,000 ministers of religion in this country. About 50,000, I warrant, came from early homes, which had to struggle for the necessaries of life. The sons of rich bankers and merchants generally become bankers and merchants. The most of those who become ministers are the sons of those who had terrific struggle to get their everyday bread. The collegiate and theolog-

ical education of that son took every luxury from the parental table for eight years. The other children were more scantily appareled. The son at college every little while got a bundle from home. In it were the socks that mother had knit, sitting up late at night, her sight not as good as once it was, and there also were some delicacies from the sister's hand for the voracious appetite of a hungry student.

A HARD PULL. The years go by, and the son has been ordained and is preaching the glorious gospel, and a great revival comes, and souls by scores and hundreds accept the gospel from the lips of that young preacher, and father and mother, quite old now, are visiting the son at the village parsonage, and at the close of a Sabbath of mighty blessing father and moth-

er retire to their room, the son lighting the way and asking them if he can do anything to make them more comforta-

ble, saying if they want anything in the night just to knock on the wall.

And then all alone father and mother talk over the gracious influences of the day and say: "Well, it was worth all we went through to educate that boy! It was a hard pull, but we held on till the work was done. The world may not know it; but, mother, we held the rope, didn't we?" And the voice, tremulous with joyful emotion, responds: "Yes, fa-

ther; we held the rope. I feel my work is done. Now, Lord, lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, for mine eyes have seen thy salvation." "Pshaw!" says the father. "I never felt so much like living in my life as now. I want to see what that fellow is going on to do, he has begun so well."

Oh, men and women here assembled, you brag sometimes how you have fought your way in the world, but I think there have been helpful influences that you have never fully acknowledged.

Has there not been some influence in your early or present home that the world cannot see? Does there not reach to you from among the New England hills, or from the western prairies, or from southern plantation, or from English or Scottish or Irish home, a cord of influence that has kept you right when you would have gone astray, and which, after you had made a crooked track, recalled you? The rope may be as long as 30 years, or 500 miles long or 3,000 miles long, but hands that went out of mortal sight long ago still hold the ropes.

You want a very swift horse, and you need to rowel him with the sharpest spurs, and to let the reins lie loose upon the neck, and to give a shout to a racer if you are going to ride out of reach of your mother's prayers. Why, a ship crossing the Atlantic in seven days can't sail away from them! A sailor finds

them on the lookout as he takes his place, and finds them on the mast as he climbs the ratlines to disentangle a rope in the tempest, and finds them swinging on the hammock when he turns in. Why not be frank and acknowledged? The most of us would long ago have been dashed to pieces had not gracious and loving hands steadily and lovingly and mightily held the rope. A TIME OF PERIL. But there must come a time when we shall find out who these Damascenes were who lowered Paul in the basket and greet them and all those who have rendered to God and the world unrecognized and unrecorded services. That is going to be one of the glad excitements of heaven--the hunting up and picking out of those who did great good on earth and got no credit for it. Here the church has been going on 19 centuries, and this is probably the first sermon ever recognizing the services of the people in that Damascus balcony. Charles G. Fin-

ney said to a dying Christian, "Give my love to St. Paul when you meet him." When you and I meet him, as we will, I shall ask him to introduce me to those people who got him out of the Damas-

cene peril.

Once for 36 hours we expected every moment to go to the bottom of the ocean. The waves struck through the skylights, and rushed down into the hold of the ship, and hissed against the boilers. It was an awful time, but by the blessing of God and the faithfulness of the men in charge we came out of the cyclone, and we arrived at home. Each one, before leaving the ship, thanked Captain Andrews. I do not think there was a man or woman that went off that ship without thanking Captain Andrews, and when years after I heard of his death I was impelled to write a letter of condo-

lence to his family in Liverpool.

Everybody recognized the goodness, the courage, the kindness of Captain Andrews, but it occurs to me now that we never thanked the engineer. He stood away down in the darkness and the hissing furnaces doing his whole duty. Nobody thanked the engineer, but God recognized his heroism, and his continuance, and his fidelity, and there will be just as high reward for the engineer who worked out of sight as the captain who stood on the bridge of the ship in the midst of the howling tempest. ALL POINTED OUT. A Christian woman was seen going along the edge of a wood every eventide, and the neighbors in the country did not understand how a mother with so many cares and anxieties should waste so much time as to be idly sauntering out evening by evening. It was found out afterward that she went there to pray for her household, and while there one evening she wrote that beautiful hymn, famous in all ages for cheering Christian hearts: I love to steal awhile away From every cumbering care And spend the hours of setting day In humble, grateful prayer. Shall there be no reward for such unpretending yet everlasting service?

We go into long sermon to prove that we will be able to recognize people in heaven, when there is one reason we fail to present, and that is better than all--

God will introduce us. We shall have them all pointed out. You would not be guilty of the impoliteness of having friends in your parlor not introduced, and celestial politeness will demand that we be made acquainted with all the heavenly household. What rehearsal of old times and recital of stirring reminiscences. If others fail to give introduction, God will take us through, and before our first 24 hours in heaven--if it were calculated by earthly timepieces--have passed we shall meet and talk with more heavenly celebrities than in our entire mortal state we met with earthly celebrities. Many who made great noise of usefulness will sit on the last seat by the front door of the heavenly temple, while right up within arm's reach of the heavenly throne will be many who, though they could not preach themselves or do great exploits for God, nevertheless held the rope. Come, let us go right up and accost those on this circle of heavenly thrones. Surely, they must have killed in battle a million men. Surely they must have been buried with all the cathedrals sounding a dirge and all the towers of all the cities tolling the national grief. Who art thou, mighty one of heaven? "I lived by choice the unmarried daughter in a humble home that I might take care of my parents in their old age, and I endured without complaints all their querulousness and ministered to all their wants for 20 years."

BEFORE THE THRONES.

Let us pass on round the circle of thrones. Who art thou, mighty one of heaven? "I was for 30 years a Christian invalid and suffered all the while, occa-

sionally writing a note of sympathy for those worse off than I, and was general confidant of all those who had trouble, and once in awhile I was strong enough to make a garment for that poor family in the back lane." Pass on to another

throne. Who art thou, mighty one of heaven? "I was the mother who raised a whole family of children for God, and they are out in the world Christian mer-

chants, Christian mechanics, Christian wives, and I have had full reward of all my toil." Let us pass on in the circle of thrones. "I had a Sabbath school class, and they were always on my heart, and they all entered the kingdom of God, and I am waiting for their arrival."

But who art thou, the mighty one of heaven on this other throne? "In time of bitter persecution I owned a house in Damascus--a house on the wall. A man who preached Christ was hounded from street to street, and I hid him from the assassins, and when I found them breaking in my house and I could no longer keep him safely I advised him to flee for his life, and a basket was let down over the wall with the maltreated man in it, and I was the one who helped hold the rope." And I said, "Is that all?" And he answered, "That is all." And while I was lost in amazement I heard a strong voice that sounded as though it might once have been hoarse from many exposures and triumphant as though it might have belonged to one of the martyrs, and it said, "Not many mighty, not many noble are called, but God hath chosen the weak things of the world to confound the things which are

mighty, and base things of the world and things which are despised hath God chosen--yea, and things which are not--to bring to naught that which are, that no flesh should glory in his presence."

And I looked to see from whence the voice came, and, lo! it was the very one who had said, "Through a window in a basket was I let down by the wall."

EFFECT OF TRIFLES. Henceforth think of nothing as insignificant. A little thing may decide your all. A Cunarder put out from England for New York. It was well equipped, but in putting up a stove in the pilot box a nail was driven too near the compass.

You know how that nail would affect the compass. The ship's officer, deceived by that distracted compass, put the ship 200 miles off her right course, and sud-

denly the man on the lookout cried, "Land, ho!" and the ship was halted within a few yards of her demolition on Nantucket shoals. A sixpenny nail came near wrecking a Cunarder. Small ropes hold mighty destinies.

A minister seated in Boston at his table, lacking a word, puts his hand behind his head and tilts back his chair to think, and the ceiling falls and crushes the table and would have crushed him. A minister in Jamaica at night by the light of an insect called the candlefly, is kept from stepping over a precipice of a hundred feet. F. W. Robertson, the celebrated English clergyman, said that he entered the ministry from a train of circum-

stances started by the barking of a dog. Had the wind blown one way on a certain day the Spanish inquisition would have been established in England, but it blew the other way, and that dropped the accursed institution with 75,000 tons of shipping to the bottom of the sea or flung the splintered logs on the rocks. Nothing unimportant in your life or mine. Three ciphers placed on the right side of the figure 1 make a thousand, and six ciphers on the right side of the figure 1 a million, and our nothingness placed on the right side may be augmentation illimitable. All the ages of time and eternity affected by the basket let down from a Damascus balcony!

A Sanitary Building.

In Yokohama a unique building has been constructed by Dr. W. Van der Heyden. The walls are of boxes of glass arranged in brick fashion and filled with a solution of alum, which allows light to pass, but intercepts certain heat rays.

These boxes, which have now resisted during one year and a half the influence of cold and heat, shocks and earthquakes, are resting on cast iron supports. The necessary gaps between two rows are filled with felt and then covered with boards. A series of boxes above each other and next to one another, with as little space between as possible, and this space filled with felt, forms the outside walls of the house. The roof, which is flat and is supported by the cast iron pillars which carry the boxes, can be made in exactly the same mold.

In the house, glass panes pressed against each other, but with strips of rubber between them, form the horizon-

tal ceiling. Above this a thick layer of ashes rests, whereupon is a light framework of wood covered over with ce-

ment. This of course makes the roof nontranslucent, but it defends the roof well against radiant heat, and being made of bad conducting material the heat of the interior is not lost. The four walls being totally translucent, there is more light than in any other description of dwelling. Special arrangements provide for ventilation and drainage.--Medical Record.

Beat His Way Six Thousand Miles.

On Sunday morning a dust begrimed young man stepped from the through freight train at the Pennsylvania railroad station in Jersey City after a journey of 6,000 miles. He is John J. Shields, aged 21, of Springfield, Ills., and he has accomplished the weary distance in one month, almost without the use of money,

to earn a wager of $100. He was work-

ing in the coal mines near his home, and hearing the wager offered by a local sport at once accepted and started out to

cross the continent without money. By dint of stealing rides and going without food and sleep most of the time he made his way to Tacoma at the rate of 1,000 miles a week.

From there he journeyed, with the help of a friendly engineer, to Los Angeles, from which place he at once started east.

He frequently had to beg food at farmhouses, and once he was prompted by hunger to steal a chicken, but was caught, tried, acquitted and asked to leave the town. He passed through Prescott, A. T., and Dallas. After working two days on a ranch for $1 a day he started north.

During this part of the journey he was put off the train by the brakemen a doz-

en times, arriving here in a wornout and footsore condition.--New York Dispatch.

A Chance For the Poets.

What a theme for the poets in the wreck of the old Kearsarge! How it calls up memories of the great past! How it appeals to the national pride! The gale--the reef--the gallant old ship straining--her timbers parting--her hold filling--she careens--a shiver--a mighty plunge--a mad swirl of rushing waters, and naught is left of the old Kearsarge but the splendid record of her mighty deeds!

The poets will think of more than this, of course, and something very much bet-

ter, but here is a suggestion that may help them:

aghast, ashore, ablast no more--the mast of yore, avast! the reef of Roncador.

The way being made so easy, it will not be hard to do it. It is astonishing how smoothly these things go when you have a good start.--Wheeling Intelligencer.

Diseases of Makers of Melinite. Melinite, the French explosive, is apt to poison the workmen engaged in making it. After some time they lose their appetites and good digestion, their skins turn yellow, and they show signs of poi-

soning by the vapors of picric acid, have also shown that similar effects result from the manufacture of roburite. The French government has allowed the operatives in the melinite factories a ration of milk daily to counteract the poi-son.--London News.

Government Pawnbroking.

The government has a monopoly of pawnbroking in France, the institution being called Monte-de-Piete. The cap-

ital is not supplied by the state, but is borrowed on the national credit by is-

suing bonds. The director has just bor-

rowed $12,000,000 for use during 1894. The money is advanced on all manner of security, not less than 60 per cent of the value is loaned, and the rate of interest is far less than American small usurers charge.

John Jacob Astor's Thrift. John Jacob Astor appears to have in-

herited the quality of thrift from his ancestors. The stories told about him in the vicinity of his office at Twenty-sixth street and Broadway are scarcely credible, in view of the enormous wealth of

the present head of the Astor family in America. The general plea of a hundred millionaire is that when he gets shaved at a public barber shop he gives the barber a tip. Mr. Astor, however, is not misled by any false plea of pride.

Hence, when he goes into one of the barber shops in the hotels near his office the boy is slow to assist him off with his coat, and the barbers glance at him indifferently. On one occasion when his hat had blown off in the street and become stained with mud, Mr. Astor al-

lowed the boy to clean it up thoroughly with alcohol and soap and then thanked the boy for his trouble. He was poorer only in thanks.

He seldom eats in restaurants, though his cousin, William Waldorf Astor, nearly always ate his lunch at Delmoni-

co's when he was an American. John Jacob Astor's tip, when he gives one, usually startles a Delmonico waiter--

something that a large tip has never yet accomplished. Mr. Astor is tall, thin and rather amiable in manner. He reads the Italian, German and English papers, apparently with equal facility, and he is nearly always alone. It seems incredible of the man that he should be

so charry of his tips because he wishes to save money, for it is known that he en-

tertains liberally on his yacht and in the country, and he has donated large sums to charity. It may be that he objects to tips on principle. It is certain that he does not practice tipping in any form whatsoever.--New York Sun.

New York Crowds. The hurry and the bustle of a New York crowd! Everybody talks about it. Everybody feels rushed. It is tradition that the whole population of the is-

and of Manhattan is on the dead run fully 20 hours out of the 24. But some time just take the time to notice the crowd and your progress on the street

and at the same time actually try to move rapidly. Don't try to move against the crowd. That isn't a fair test. Get on your own side of the walk and go with the throng. Have five minutes in which to get from Wall street to the postoffice. You can easily do it, you say. Try it.

See how many men you will stumble up against in your haste. Notice the number who are standing like trees in the middle of the walk admiring the pictures in the windows opposite. Watch the action of the whole mass of people when they come to a workman placing

a stone in a new building. It will be evident to you then that the normal condition of a New York crowd is one of rest.

When one looks down upon the crowd, it seems busy. It is really a sluggish stream. Try to go faster than the cur-

rent and you will find how slow it really is. Some people may move fast in the streets. But the hurrying crowd? There is no such thing.--New York Tribune.

A Great Waterfall Project. What is believed to be the largest ar-

tificial waterfall in the world is that pro-

jected by the Southern Pacific Railway company near Wright's station, in the Santa Cruz mountains--a mountain

stream being made to run over and above a railroad track and designed to prevent the obstruction of travel by landslides, as in times past, at the north-

ern end of the long tunnel near the above named station. This unique piece of en-

gineering consists of an extension of the tunnel northward 200 feet, passing the point where the stream crosses the track by an arch of solid masonry.

The plan of this stone tunnel presents briefly an arch 20 feet in height, com-

posed of huge blocks of stone capable of durably withstanding the wear and tear of the elements. The inside exhibits the same width and height as the tunnel proper and is constructed in such a manner as to prevent the stream of water flowing over from percolating through.

The top of the arch being about 15 feet above the bed of the stream, the latter is raised up, by filling, to the proper level,

and as the stream flows over the top of the stone arch a fall of not less than 20 feet is produced on the other side of the track.--New York Sun.

He Swore In English.

Private Secretary Thurber was telling of an experience he had during a recent trip to Europe. "I was in Germany," he said, "and I had been traveling for a long time without meeting a man or woman who could speak English. I got out of my compartment at one station after listening to a party of Germans talk for a couple of hours in a lingo I did not un-

derstand and entered another in hopes of finding some one who spoke my mother tongue. But the only man there was a stolid looking German. I sighed and sank back to make the best of it. After a bit my companion, whom I knew by his looks could not speak English, felt the need for fresh air and raised the window. He did not raise it far enough, and missing the catch it fell with a slam and caught his finger at the bottom.

"'___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ _ _ _!" he exclaimed in the very best English I have ever heard.

"I put out my hand to him. 'Shake!' I said. He did so, and we chatted gayly through the rest of the trip."--Chicago Post.

The Dandelion Road.

A certain railroad in the west is very much in need of an equipment of scythes, mowers and the like. In the proper season dandelions grow in such profusion on its right of way that the passing train mats them down on the rails and the moisture pressed out, which is very ole-

aginous, causes the wheels to slip badly.

Passengers have been known to abandon the train and walk to their destination.

The road has been styled by the facetious public as the "Dandelion road," an ap-

pellation for which no reason need be given.--Hardware.

Primitive Woman as a Poet. Professor Chamberlain, who has been looking up the record of "Primitive Woman as a Poet," finds that lullabies are known in every land and that "the folk poetry of all people is rich in songs whose texts and whose melodies the mother herself has imagined and composed." Primitive maidens among the Arabs and Bedouins also composed the love songs. It is largely through the telling of songs and stories by women that they have been transmitted from generation to generation.--New York Post.

GREAT BARGAINS IN SPRING AND SUMMER CLOTHING, Hats, Caps and Gents Furnishing Goods, AT M. MENDEL'S RELIABLE ONE PRICE STORE. 1625 ATLANTIC AVENUE, ATLANTIC CITY, N. J. Children's Nobby Clothing a Specialty. A Banjo Souvenier Given Away with every Child's Suit.

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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, 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. 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.

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

DESIRABLE COTTAGES FOR SALE OR RENT. If you intend visiting the seashore the coming season, call on or write 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 given on application. Building lots for sale in every section of the city. Insurance written by first class Companies. Come and see me before insuring elsewhere. Money to loan on Bond and Mortgage on Improved Property.