OUT OF BRICKKILNS.

DR. TALMAGE PREACHES UPON THE

SUSTAINING POWER OF RELIGION.

The Usual Great Audience Enraptured Over His Glowing Discourse--Trials and Temp-

tations of the World--A Curious Text and a Unique Sermon.

BROOKLYN, April 1.--In the Brooklyn Tabernacle this forenoon Rev. Dr. Talmage preached to a crowded audience on a subject of unusual interest, as illustrating the sustaining power of religion to those who are in daily contact with the world, its trials and temptations. The text chosen was Psalms lxviii, 13, "Though ye have lain among the pots, yet shall ye be as the wings of a dove covered with silver and her feathers with yellow gold." I suppose you know what the Israelites did down in Egyptian slavery. They made bricks. Amid the utensils of the brickkiln there were also other utensils of cookery--the kettles, the pots, the pains, with which they prepared their daily food, and when these poor slaves, tired of the day's work, lay down to rest they lay down among the implements of cookery and the implements of hard work. When they arose in the morning, they found their garments covered with the clay, and the smoke, and the dust, and besmirched and begrimed with the utensils of cookery. But after awhile the Lord broke up that slavery, and he took these poor slaves into a land where they had better garb, bright and clean and beautiful apparel. No more bricks for them to make. Let Pharaoh make his own bricks. When David, in my text, comes to describe the transition of these poor Israelites from their bondage amid the brickkilns into the glorious emancipation for which God had prepared them, he says, "Though ye have lain among the pots, yet shall ye be as the wings of a dove covered with silver and her feathers with yellow gold."

A HARD TASKMASTER.

Miss Whateley, the author of a celebrated book, "Life In Egypt," said she sometimes saw people in the east cooking

their food on the tops of houses, and that she had often seen just before sundown pigeons and doves, which had during the heat of the day been hiding among the kettles and the pans with which the food was prepared, picking up the crumbs that

they might find. Just about the hour of sunset they would spread their wings and fly heavenward, entirely unsoiled by the region in which they had moved, for the pigeon is a very cleanly bird.

And as the pigeons flew away the setting sun would throw silver on their wings and gold on their breasts. So you see it is not a farfetched simile or an unnatural comparison when David, in my text, says to these emancipated Israelites, and says to all those who are brought out of any kind of trouble into

any kind of spiritual joy, "Though ye have lain among the pots, yet shall ye be as the wings of a dove covered with silver and her feathers with yellow gold."

Sin is the hardest of all taskmasters.

Worse than Pharaoh, it keeps us drudg-

ing in a most degrading service, but after awhile Christ comes, and he says, "Let my people go," and we pass out from among the brickkilns of sin into

the glorious liberty of the gospel. We put on the clean robes of a Christian profession, and when at last we soar away to the warm nest which God has provided for us in heaven we shall go fairer than a dove, its wings covered with silver and its feathers with yellow gold.

THE DOVE AS A COMPARISON.

I am going to preach something which some of you do not believe, and that is that the grandest possible adornment is

the religion of Jesus Christ. There are a great many people who suppose that religion is a very different thing from what it really is. The reason men con-

demn the Bible is because they do not understand the Bible. They have not properly examined it. Dr. Johnson said that Hume told a minister in the bishop-

ric of Durham that he had never par-

ticularly examined the New Testament, yet all his life warring against it. Halley, the astronomer, announced his skepticism to Sir Isaac Newton, and Sir Isaac Newton said: "Now, sir, I have examined the subject, and you have not. And I am ashamed that you, professing to be a philosopher, consent to condemn a thing you have never examined." And so men reject the religion of Jesus Christ because they really have never investigated it. They think it something undesirable, something that will not work, something Pecksniffian, something hypocritical, something repulsive, when it is so bright and so beautiful you might compare it to a chaffinch, you might compare it to a robin red breast, you might compare it to a dove--its wings covered with silver and its feathers with yellow gold. But how is it if a young man becomes a Christian? All through the clubrooms where he associates, all through the business circles where he is known, there is commiseration. They say, "What a pity, that a young man who had such bright prospects should so have been despoiled by those Christians, giving up all his worldly prospects for something which is of no particular present worth!" Here is a young woman who becomes a Chris-tian--her voice, her face, her manners the charm of the drawing room. Now all through the fashionable circles the whisper goes, "What a pity that such a bright light should have been extinguished, that such a graceful gait should be crippled, that such worldly prospects should be obliterated!" Ah,

my friends, it can be shown that re-

ligion's ways are ways of pleasantness and that all her paths are peace; that religion, instead of being dark and doleful and lachrymose and repulsive, is bright and beautiful, fairer than a dove, its wings covered with silver and its feathers with yellow gold. DROWNING TROUBLE. See, in the first place, what religion will do for a man's heart. I care not how cheerful a man may naturally be before conversion, conversion brings him up to a higher standard of cheerfulness. I do not say he will laugh any louder. I do not say but he may stand back from

some forms of hilarity in which he once indulged, but there comes into his soul

an immense satisfaction. A young man not a Christian depends upon worldly successes to keep his spirits up. Now he is prospered, now he has a large salary, now he has a beautiful wardrobe, now he has pleasant friends, now he has more money than he knows how to spend. Everything goes bright and well with him.

But trouble comes. There are many young men in the house this morning who can testify out of their own experience that sometimes to young men trouble does come--his friends are gone, his salary is gone, his health is gone. He

goes down, down. He becomes sour, cross, queer, misanthropic, blames the world, blames society, blames the church, blames everything, rushes perhaps to the intoxicating cup to drown his trouble, but instead of drowning his trouble he drowns his body and drowns his soul. But here is a Christian young man. Trouble comes to him. Does he give up?

No! He throws himself back on the re-

sources of heaven. He says: "God is my Father. Out of all these disasters I shall pluck advantage for my soul. All the promises are mine, Christ is mine, Christian companionship is mine, heaven is mine. What though my apparel be worn out? Christ gives me a robe of

righteousness. What though my money

be gone? I have a title deed to the whole universe in the promise, 'All are yours.'

What though my worldly friends fall away? Ministering angels are my bodyguard. What though my fare be poor and my bread be scant? I sit at the king's banquet!"

Oh, what a poor, shallow stream is worldly enjoyment compared with the deep, broad, overflowing river of God's peace, rolling midway in the Christian heart! Sometimes you have gone out

on the iron bound beach of the sea when there has been a storm on the ocean, and you have seen the waves dash into white

foam at your feet. They did not do you any harm. While there you thought of the chapter written by the psalmist, and perhaps you recited it to yourself while the storm was making commentary upon the passage: "God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in the time of trouble. Therefore will I not fear, though the earth be moved, and though the mountains be carried into the midst of the sea, though the waters thereof roar and be troubled, though the mountains shake with the swelling thereof."

Oh, how independent the religion of Christ makes a man of worldly success and worldly circumstances! Nelson, the night before his last battle, said, "To-

morrow I shall win either a peerage or a grave in Westminster abbey." And it

does not make much difference to the Christian whether he rises or falls in worldly matters. He has everlasting re-

nown anyway. Other plumage may be torn in the blast, but that soul adorned with Christian grace is fairer than the dove--its wings covered with silver and its feathers with gold.

LURKING IN THE CUP. You and I have found out that people who pretend to be happy are not always happy. Look at that young man caricaturing the Christian religion, scoffing at everything good, going into roistering drunkenness, dashing the champagne

bottle to the floor, rolling the glasses from the barroom counter, laughing, shouting, stamping the floor. Is he happy? I will go to his midnight pillow. I will see him turn the gas off. I will ask myself if the pillow on which he sleeps is as soft as the pillow on which that pure young man sleeps.

Ah, no! When he opens his eyes in the morning, will the world be as bright to him as that young man who retired

at night saying his prayers, invoking God's blessing upon his own soul and the souls of his comrades and father and

mother and brothers and sisters far away? No, no! His laugh will ring out from the saloon so that you hear it as you pass by, but it is hollow laughter. In it is the snapping of heartstrings and the rattle of prison gates. Happy--that young man happy?

Let him fill high the bowl; he cannot drown an upbraiding conscience. Let the balls roll through the bowling alley; the deep rumble and the sharp crack can-

not overpower the voices of condemna-

tion. Let him whirl in the dance of sin and temptation and death; all the brilliancy of the scene cannot make him forget the last look of his mother when he left home, when she said to him: "Now, my son, you will do right; I am sure you will do right. You will, won't you?" That young man happy? Why, across every night there flit shadows of eternal darkness; there are adders coiled up in every cup; there are vultures of despair striking their iron beaks into his heart; there are skeleton fingers of grief pinching at the throat.

USEFUL RELIGIONS.

"I come in amid the clicking of the glasses and under the flashing of the chandeliers, and I cry: "Woe! Woe! The way of the ungodly shall perish. There

is no peace, saith my God, to the wick-

ed. The way of transgressors is hard." Oh, my friends, there is more joy in one drop of Christian satisfaction than in whole rivers of sinful delight. Other wings may be drenched of the storm and splashed of the tempest, but the dove that comes in through the window

of this heavenly ark has wings like the dove covered with silver and her feath-

ers with yellow gold. Again, I remark, religion is an adornment in the style of usefulness into which it inducts a man. Here are two young men. The one has fine culture, exquisite wardrobe, plenty of friends, great worldly success, but he lives for himself. His chief care is for his own comfort. He lives uselessly. He dies unregretted. Here is another young man. His apparel may not be so good; his education

may not be so thorough. He lives for others. His happiness is to make others happy. He is as self denying as that dy-

ing soldier falling in the ranks, when he said: "Colonel, there is no need of those boys tiring themselves by carrying me to the hospital. Let me die just where

I am." So this young man of whom I speak loves God, wants all the world to love him, is not ashamed to carry a bun-

dle of clothes up that dark alley to the poor. Which of those young men do you admire the better? The one a sham, the other a prince imperial.

Oh, do you know of anything, my hearer, that is more beautiful than to see a young man start out for Christ? Here

is some one falling; he lifts him up. Here is a vagabond boy; he introduces him to a mission school. Here is a family freez-

ing to death; he carries them a scuttle of coal. There are 800,000,000 perishing in midnight heathen darkness. By all pos-

sible means he tries to send them the gospel. He may be laughed at, and he may be sneered at, and he may be caricatured, but he is not ashamed to go

everywhere saying: "I am not ashamed of the gospel of Christ. It is the power of God and the wisdom of God unto sal-

vation."

Such a young man can go through everything. There is no force on earth or in hell that can resist him. I show you three spectacles:

CERTAIN SPECTACLES. Spectacle the First--Napoleon passed by with the host that went down with him to Egypt and up with him through Russia and crossed the continent on the

bleeding heart of which he set his iron heel, and across the quivering flesh of which he went grinding the wheels of his gun carriages--in his dying moment ask-

ing his attendants to put on his military boots for him.

Spectacle the Second--Voltaire, bright and learned and witty and eloquent, with tongue and voice and stratagem infernal, warring against God and poisoning whole kingdoms with his infidelity, yet ap-

plauded by the clapping hands of thrones and empires and continents--his last words, in delirium supposing Christ standing by the bedside--his last words, "Crush that wretch!"

Spectacle the Third--Paul--Paul, insignificant in person, thrust out from all refined association, scourged, spat on, hounded like a wild beast from city to city, yet traveling to make the world good and heaven full; announcing resurrection

to those who mourned at the barred gates of the dead; speaking consolations which light up the eyes of widowhood and orphanage and want with glow of certain and eternal release; undaunted before those who could take his life, his cheek flushed with transport and his eye

on heaven; with one hand shaking defiance at all the foes of earth and all the principalities of hell, and with the other hand beckoning messenger angels to come and bear him away as he says: "I am now ready to be offered, and the time of my departure is at hand. I have fought the 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." Which of the three spectacles do you most admire? When the wind of death struck the conqueror and the infidel, they were tossed like sea gulls in a tempest, drenched of the wave and torn of the hurricane, their dismal voices heard through the everlasting storm, but when the wave and the wind of death struck Paul, like an albatross, he made a throne of the tempest and one day floated away into the calm, clear summer of heaven, brighter than the dove, its wings covered with silver, and its feathers with yellow gold. Oh, are

you not in love with such a religion--a religion that can do so much for a man while he lives and so much for a man when he comes to die?

A CONTRAST.

I suppose you may have noticed the contrast between the departure of a Christian and the departure of an infidel.

Diodorus, dying in chagrin because he could not compose a joke equal to the joke uttered at the other end of his table; Zeuxis, dying in a fit of laughter at the sketch of an aged woman--a sketch made by his own hand; Mazarin, dying

playing cards, his friend holding his hands because he was unable to hold them himself.

All that on one side, compared with the departure of the Scotch minister who said to his friends: "I have no interest as to whether I live or die. If I die, I shall be with the Lord,d and if I live the Lord will be with me." Or the last words of Washington, "It is well."

Or the last word of McIntosh, the learn-

ed and the great, "Happy!" Or the last words of Hannah More, the Christian poetess, "Joy!" Or those thousands of

Christians who have gone, saying: "Lord Jesus, receive my spirit! Come, Lord

Jesus, come quickly!" "O death, where thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?"

Behold the contrast. Behold the charm of the one, behold the darkness of the other. Now, I know it is very popular in this day for young men to think there is something more charming in skepticism, than in religion. They are ashamed of the old fashioned religion of the cross, and they pride themselves on their free thinking on all these subjects. My young friends, I want to tell you what I know from observation--that while skepticism is a beautiful land at the start, it is a great Sahara desert at the last. AN APT STORY. Years ago a minister's son went off from home to college. At college he formed the acquaintance of a young man whom I shall call Ellison. Ellison was an infidel. Ellison scoffed at religion, and the minister's son soon learned from him the infidelity, and when he went home on his vacation broke his father's heart by his denunciations of Christianity. Time passed on, and vacation came, and the minister's son went off to spend the vacation and was on a journey and came to a hotel. The hotel keeper said: "I am sorry that tonight I shall have to put you in a room adjoining one where there is a very sick and dying man. I can give you no other accommodation." "Oh," said the young college student and minister's son, "that will make no difference to me, except the matter of sympathy with anybody that is suffering." The young man retired to his room, but could not sleep. All night long he heard the groaning of the sick man on the step of the watchers, and his soul trembled. He thought to himself: "Now, there is only a thin wall between me and a departing spirit. How if Ellison should know how I feel? How if Ellison should find out how my heart flutters? What if Ellison knew my skepticism gave way?" He slept not. In the morning, coming down, he said to the hotel keeper, "How is the sick man?" "Oh," said the hotel keeper, "he is dead, poor fellow. The doctors told us he could not last through the night." "Well," said the young man, "what was the sick one's name--where is he from?" "Well," said the hotel keeper, "he is from Providence college." "Providence college! What is his name?" "Ellison." "Ellison!" Oh, how the young man was stunned! It was his old college mate--dead without any hope. It was many hours before the young man could leave that hotel. He got on his horse and started homeward, and all the way he heard something saying to him: "Dead! Lost! Dead! Lost!" He came to no satisfaction until he entered the Christian life, until he entered the Christian ministry, until he became one of the most eminent missionaries of the cross, the greatest Baptist missionary the world has ever seen since the days of Paul--no superior to Adoniram Judson. Mighty on earth, mighty in heaven--Adoniram Judson. Which do you like the best, Judson's skepticism or Judson's Christian life, Judson's suffering for Christ's sake, Judson's almost martyrdom? Oh, young man, take your choice between these two kinds of lives. Your own heart tells you this morning the Christian life is more admirable, more

peaceful, more comfortable and more beautiful. IN GOOD COMPANY. Oh, if religion does so much for a man on earth, what will it do for him in

heaven? That is the thought that comes to me now. If a soldier can afford to shout "Huzza!" when he goes into bat-

tle, how much more jubilantly he can afford to shout "Huzza!" when he has gained the victory. If religion is so good a thing to have here, how bright a thing it will be in heaven! I want to see that young man when the glories of heaven have robed and crowned him. I want to hear him sing when all huskiness of earthly colds is gone and he rises up with the great doxology.

I want to know what standard he will carry when marching under arches of pearl in the army of banners. I want to know what company he will keep in the land where they are all kings and queens forever and ever. If I have in-

duced one of you this morning to begin a better life, then I want to know it. I may not in this world clasp hands with you in friendship. I may not hear from your own lips the story of temptation and sorrow, but I will clasp hands with you when the sea is passed and the gates are entered.

That I might woo you to a better life and that I might show you the glories with which God clothes his dear children in heaven, I wish I could this morning swing back one of the 12 gates that there might dash upon your ear one shout of the triumph; that there might flame upon your eyes one blaze of the splendor. Oh, when I speak of that good land, you involuntarily think of someone there that you loved--father, mother, brother, sister or dear little child garnered already. You want to know what they are doing this morning. I will tell you what they are doing. Singing! You want to know what they wear. Coronets of triumph! You wonder why oft they look to the gate of the temple and watch and wait. I will tell you why they watch and wait and look to the gate of the temple. For your coming! I should upward the news today, for I am sure some of you will repent and start for heaven: "Oh, ye bright ones before the throne, your earthly friends are coming! Angels pois-

ind midair to cry up the name! Gatekeeper of heaven, send forward the tidings! Watchman on the battlement celestial, throw the signal!"

A LOST THRONE. "Oh," you say, "religion I am going to have. It is only a question of time." My brother, I am afraid that you may lose heaven the way Louis Philippe lost his empire. The Parisian mob came around the Tuileries, the national guard stood in defense of the palace, and the commander said to Louis Philippe: "Shall I fire now? Shall I order the troops to fire? With one volley we can clear the place." "No," said Louis Philippe, "not yet." A few minutes passed on, and then Louis Philippe, seeing the case was hopeless, said to the general, "Now is the time to fire." "No," said the general, "it is too late now. Don't you see that the soldiers are exchanging arms with the citizens? It is too late." Down went the throne of Louis Philippe. Away from the earth went the house of Orleans, and all because the king said, "Not yet, not yet!" May God forbid that any of you should adjourn this great subject of religion and should postpone assailing your spiritual foes until it is too late, too late--you losing a throne in heaven the way that Louis Philippe lost a throne on earth. When the Judge descends in might, Clothed in majesty and light; When the earth shall quake with fear, Where, oh, where wilt thou appear?

Didn't Know His Own Child. At Antietam, just after the artillery had been sharply engaged, the Rockbridge (Va.) battery was standing waiting orders. General Lee rode by and stopped a moment. A dirty faced driver about 17 said to him:

"General, are you going to put us in again?"

Think of such a question from such a source to the general of the army, especially when that general's name was Lee. "Yes, my boy," the stately officer kindly answered; "I have to put you in again. But what is your name? Your face seems familiar somehow." "I don't wonder you didn't know me, sir," laughed the lad; "I'm so dirty, but

I'm Bob."

It was the general's youngest son, whom he had thought safe at the Virginia Military Institute. "God bless you, my son; do your duty!" and the general rode on.--Washington Post. The Art of Graceful Walking. It would seem sometimes that the art of graceful walking might be numbered among the lost sciences, so few women master the accomplishment or even acquire any approach to perfection in this exercise, which is the foundation of all others. Every one succeeds in propelling themselves along by means of their feet, but that is not true walking. An English authority says, "The body should be held erect, the shoulders down, chest extended and the leg moved from the hip, the whole figure above being im-movable."--Philadelphia Times.

Napoleon Leads. The editor ofa French press cutting agency, who deals in the newspapers of the entire world, made a calculation as to who is oftenest mentioned as a public character. Napoleon I stands first, although this is probably in consequence of the passing fashion of things Napoleonic that set in some time ago. Then comes the emperor of Germany, then Prince Bismarck and only in the fourth place Mr. Gladstone. Immediately after comes President Carnot, and the pope is rather a bad sixth. Overfastidious Taste. Men overfastidious in their choice of tea have been victims of their too vivid imaginations. One man objected to a brand of tea purchased by his wife, pronouncing it "weeds," and accordingly selected a choice kind. His next cup of tea was pronounced perfect. The color was good, and "That's a cup of tea for you" was said with emphasis as he drank the second cup made from the "weeds" his wife had bought.--Good Housekeeping. Times Have Changed. Thieves who entered the house of the pastor of St. James Methodist Episcopal church in Harlem stole $800 worth of silver. The surprise is not that they stole it, but that the minister had it. Times have changed since the apostolic itinerant said, "Silver and gold have I none." --Brooklyn Eagle. ODDS AND ENDS. The art of turning wood was invented by the Greeks.

The earliest form of the harrow was a bundle of brush drawn by a bullock. The first record of combmaking as a separate branch of industry was made in 987. When the Georgia post writes of the "pale liquid moonshine," it isn't poetic license.--Cleveland Plain Dealer. Missouri and Kansas horses are gradually crowding out the small bronchos and ponies from the southwestern plains. The tambourine is a combination of the drum and rattle. It is found represented on Egyptian monuments 2000 B. C. The germ of the guitar is found in the warrior's bow, the string of which gave a sonorous twang as the arrow spend to the mark. Things that have become much better than formerly, though still too bad, are not to be remedied by refusing to acknowledge any improvement. There is a serious effort on the part of English clergymen to curtail the extravagant and gorgeous decoration of churches for fashionable marriages. The people of Great Barrington, Mass., are preparing to fitly celebrate next August the fiftieth anniversary of the famous Berkshire jubilee of Aug. 22 and 23, 1844. The chief of police of Buenos Ayres has ordered that dogs supposed to be mad shall not be killed, but captured by the police for examination by Dr. Dabel, the bacteriologist. It is announced that a furnace has been unearthed somewhere along the Nile in which the hot blast was used centuries before the modern Neilson formulated the same idea. A gavel made from wood that grew on the farm where Abraham Lincoln was born has been presented to the department of the Potomac, G. A. R., by the Commercial club of Louisville. The frequency of the discovery of bombs in Paris has led to the provision of a special vehicle for their transportation from the place where they are discovered to the government laboratory.

In Baltimore the prisoners in the Maryland penitentiary are reported to have subscribed $435 for the benefit of the unemployed and would have sub-

scribed more probably if the warden would have permitted them. The Twentieth Century club is a new organization in Boston whose most unique feature is the admission of women to membership on equal terms with men. Its chief aim is the promotion of a better social order, and its president is Edwin D. Meade.

Religious Persecutions in China.

The Rev. Francis Banquis, missioner at Western Su-Chuen, China, writes from Paolin the following touching letter: "I have had to leave my mountains and go a 10 days' journey on my mule to the capital of the northern part of the province, in order to see the mandarins and seek justice for the murder of a Christian. The demon, ever the same, raises up the same obstacles in our day as in the first centuries of the church in Europe. This year, at a recently established station, some pagans plotted together to put the best instructed among the Christians to death. Several hundreds having collected, carrying an idol, they made the circuit of the village, stopping at every house and saying that the idol, 'the old grandfather,' as they called it, was hungry.

"Our Christian had been warned of the plot to kill him. A few days before he had gone to some neophytes to bid them goodby, saying, 'This time I shall die. Pray for my soul. We shall never meet again!'

"His pagan relatives came to his house on the day fixed upon, and on his refusal to join in their superstitions they began to beat him with sticks. One of his assailants, a schoolmaster, came to the front, crying: 'This dog will die hard. You are not able for him. Let me at him.' "He took off his clothing, to be more at his ease, turned over the body, already covered with bruises, and struck at it with redoubled force, so that the blood spurted out as far as the yard, the wretch crying all the while: 'Do you see what a fine pig we have killed? What fine thick blood! This is how we will pierce the hearts of all the Christians!' "The martyr survived a few days and was able to receive the last sacraments, resigned to the will of God and pardoning his murderers."--"Annals of the Propagation of the Faith."

Remarkable Case of Petrification. More than 40 years ago a boy 12 or 13 years of age died in Waldo county, and his body was laid at rest in the family vault in the local cemetery. Four years ago, over 36 years after the body was placed in the vault, a sexton, noticing the wonderful preservation of the coffin, opened it. Imagine his surprise to find therein what he thought was a new corpse. It was perfectly preserved--so perfectly that the sexton doubted his wits and wondered if it were not a body that had been placed in the vault unbeknown to him. Knowing that the fam-

ily that owned the vault were all long since dead, the sexton went to the exec-

utor of the estate and told him of his discovery. Together they visited the vault, and at the first look the executor exclaimed, "Good heavens, that's the body of a young son of the family who died more than 35 years ago!" Greatly astonished, they carefully examined the remains and found them thoroughly petrified. The boy had scarcely changed from the hour of his death. The only alteration was that the eyes were sunk-

en. The clothing was perfect. The little blue tie and collar were as if but just arranged, and the hair looked as if recently combed. The face bore the look of sleep. For 40 years has the body lain there in this state and is there still.--Lewiston Journal.

His Geography.

Teacher--In what state is Chicago? Pupil--New Jersey. "Wrong. Where is the Hudson river?" "Rises in the Rocky mountains and flows to the gulf of Mexico." "My goodness, child, you must have been reading a London newspaper."--Good News.

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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.

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.

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DESIRABLE COTTAGES FOR SALE OR RENT.

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Money to loan on Bond and Mortgage on Improved Property.