STRANGERS IN TOWN.

A DISCOURSE OF INTEREST TO THE TABERNACLE THRONG.

Rev. Dr. Talmage Upon Life in a Great City and the Lessons It Teaches--The Undercurrent of Life--A Plea For the Sabbath.

BROOKLYN, April 8.--Before no au-

dience in the world could such a sermon as Rev. Dr. Talmage preached today be so appropriate as in the Brooklyn Tabernacle, where it is estimated that 150,000 strangers attend every year. It was a sermon that had for them a special interest. The text selected was Matthew, xxv, 35, "I was a stranger, and ye

took me in."

It is a moral disaster that jocosity has despoiled so many passages of Scripture, and my text is one that has suffered from irreverent and misapplied quotation. It shows great poverty of wit and humor when people take the sword of divine truth for a game at fencing or chip off from the Kohinoor a diamond of inspiration a sparkle to decorate a fool's cap. My text is the salutation in the last judgment to be given to those who have shown hospitality and kindness and Christian helpfulness to strangers. By railroad and steamboat the population of the earth are all the time in motion, and from one year's end to another our cities

are crowded with visitors.

Every morning on the tracks of the Hudson River, the Pennsylvania, the Erie, the Long Island railroads there come passenger trains more than I can number, so that all the depots and the wharves are a-rumble and a-clang with the coming in of a great immigration of strangers. Some of them come for purposes of barter, some for mechanism,

some for artistic gratification, some for

sightseeing. A great many of them go out on the evening trains, and consequently the city makes but little impression upon them, but there are multitudes who in the hotels and boarding houses make temporary residence. They tarry here for three or four days or as many weeks. They spend the days in the stores and the evenings in sightseeing. Their temporary stay will make or break them not only financially, but morally, for this world and the world that is to come. Multitudes of them come into our morning and evening services. I am conscious that I stand in the presence of many this moment. I desire more especially to speak to them. May God give me the right word and help me to utter

it in the right way.

STRANGERS WITHIN THE GATES.

There have glided into this house those unknown to others whose history

if told would be more thrilling than the deepest tragedy, more exciting than Pat-

ti's song, more bright than a spring

morning, more awful than a wintry midnight. If they could stand up here

and tell the story of their escapes, and

their temptations, and their bereavements, and their disasters, and their victories, and their defeats, there would be

in this house such a commingling of groans and acclamations as would make

the place unendurable.

There is a man who, in infancy, lay in a cradle satin lined. Out yonder is a man who was picked up a foundling on Boston common. Here is a man who is coolly observing this religious service, expecting no advantage and caring for no advantage for himself, while yonder is a man who has been for 10 years in an awful conflagration of evil habits, and he is a mere cinder of a destroyed nature, and he is wondering if there shall be in this service any escape or help for his immortal soul. Meeting you only once perhaps face to face, I strike hands with you in an earnest talk about your present condition and your eternal well

being. St. Paul's ship at Melita went to

pieces where two seas meet, but we stand

today at a point where a thousand seas

converge, and eternity alone can tell the

issue of the hour.

The hotels of this country, for beauty and elegance, are not surpassed by the hotels in any other land, but those that are most celebrated for brilliancy of tapestry and mirror cannot give to the guest any costly apartment unless he can afford a parlor in addition to his lodging. The stranger, therefore, will generally find assigned to him a room without any pictures and perhaps any rocking chair. He will find a box of matches on a bureau and an old newspaper left by the previous occupant, and that will be about all the ornamentation. At 7 o'clock in the evening, after having taken his repast, he will look over his memorandum book of the day's work, he will write a letter to his home, and then a desperation will seize upon him to get out. You hear the great city thundering under your windows, and you say, "I must join that procession," and in 10 minutes you have joined it. Where are you going? "Oh," you say, "I haven't made up my mind yet." Better make up your mind before you start. Perhaps the very way you go now you will always go. Twenty years ago there were two young men who came down the Astor House steps and started out in a wrong direction, where they have been

going ever since.

STUDIES OF HUMAN LIFE. "Well, where are you going?" says one man. "I am going to the academy to hear some music." Good. I would like to join you at the door. At the tap of the orchestral baton all the gates of harmony and beauty will open before your soul. I congratulate you. Where are you going? "Well," you say, "I am going up to see some advertised pictures." Good. I should like to go along with you and look over the same catalogue and study with you Kensett and Bierstadt and Church and Moran. Nothing more elevating than good pictures.

Where are you going? "Well," you say, "I am going up to the Young Men's Christian association rooms." Good. You will find the gymnastics to

strengthen the muscles, and books to im-

prove the mind, and Christian influence to save the soul. I wish every city in the United States had as fine a palace for as Young Men's Christian association as New York has. Where are you going? "Well," you say, "I am going to take a long walk up Broadway and so turn around into the Bowery. I am go-

ing to study human life." Good. A walk through Broadway at 8 o'clock at night is interesting, educating, fascinat-

ing, appalling, exhilarating to the last degree. Stop in front of that theater and see who goes in. Stop at that saloon and see who comes out. See the great tides of life surging backward and for-

ward and beating against the marble of the curbstone and eddying down into the saloons. What is that mark on the face of the debauchee? It is the hectic flesh of eternal death. What is that woman's laughter? It is the shriek of a lost soul.

Who is that Christian man going along with a vial of anodyne to the dy-

ing pauper on Elm street? Who is that belated man on the way to a prayer meeting? Who is that city missionary going to take a box in which to bury a child? Who are all these clusters of bright and beautiful faces? They are go-

ing to some interesting place of amusement. Who is that man going into the drug store? That is the man who yesterday lost all his fortune on Wall street. He is going in for a dose of belladonna, and before morning it will make no difference to him whether stocks are up or down. I tell you that Broadway, between 7 and 12 o'clock at night, between

the Battery and Central Park, is an Aus-

terlitz, a Gettysburg, a Waterloo, where kingdoms are lost or won and three worlds mingle in the strife.

LIFE'S DARK SIDE.

I meet another coming down off the

hotel steps, and I say, "Where are you going?" You say: "I am going with a

merchant of New York who has promised to show me the underground life of the city. I am his customer, and he is going to oblige me very much." Stop! A business house that tries to get or keep your custom through such a process as that is not worthy of you. There are business establishments in our cities which have for years been sending to destruction hundreds and thousands of merchants. They have a secret drawer in the counter where money is kept, and the clerk goes and gets it when he wants to take these visitors to the city through

the low slums of the place.

Shall I mention the names of some of these great commercial establishments? I have them on my lips. Shall I? Perhaps I had better leave it to the young men who in that process have been destroyed themselves while they have been destroying others. I care not how high sounding the name of a commercial establishment if it proposes to get customers or to keep them by such a process as that. Drop their acquaintance. They will cheat you before you get through. They will send you a style of goods different from that which you bought by sample. They will give you under weight. There will be in the package half a dozen less pairs of suspenders than you paid for. They will rob you. Oh, you feel in your pockets and say, "Is my money gone?" They have robbed you of something for which dollars and cents

can never give you compensation.

When one of these western merchants has been dragged by one of those commercial agents through the slums of the city, he is not fit to go home. The mere memory of what he has seen will be moral pollution. I think you had better let the city missionary and the police attend to the exploration of New York and underground life. You do not go to a smallpox hospital for the purpose of exploration. You do not go there because you are afraid of contagion. And yet you go into the presence of a moral leprosy that is as much more dangerous to you as the death of the soul is worse than the death of the body. I will undertake to say that nine-tenths of the men who have been ruined in our cities have been ruined by simply going to observe without any idea of participating. The fact is that underground city life is a filthy, fuming, reeking, pestiferous depth which blasts the eye that looks at it. In the reign of terror in 1792 in Paris people escaping from the officers of the law got into the sewers of the city and crawled and walked through miles of that awful labyrinth, stifled with the atmosphere and almost dead, some of them, when they came out to the river Seine, where they washed themselves and again breathed the fresh air. But I have to tell you that a great many of the men who go on the work of exploration through the underground gutters of New York life never come out at any Seine river where they can wash off the pollution of the moral sewage. Stranger, if one of the representatives of a commercial establishment proposes to take you and show you the "sights" of the town and underground New York, say to him, "Please, sir, what part do you propose to show me?"

EXPLORING THE SLUMS.

About 16 years ago as a minister of religion I felt I had a divine commission to explore the iniquities of our cities. I did not ask counsel of my session or my presbytery or of the newspapers, but asking the companionship of three prominent police officials and two of the elders of my church I unrolled my commission, and it said: "Son of man, dig into the wall. And when I had digged into the wall behold a door, and he said go in and see the wicked abominations that are done here. And I went in and saw and behold!" Brought up in the country and surrounded by much parental care, I had not until that time seen the haunts of iniquity. By the grace of God defended, I had never sowed my

"wild oats."

I had somehow been able to tell from various sources something about the iniquities of the great cities and to preach against them, but I saw in the destruction of a great multitude of the people that there must be an infatuation and a temptation that had never been spoken about, and I said, "I will explore." I saw thousands of men going down, and if there had been a spiritual percussion answering to the physical percussion the whole air would have been full of the rumble and roar and crack and thunder of the demolition, and this moment, if we should pause in our service, we should hear the crash, crash! Just as in the sickly season you sometimes hear the bell at the gate of the cemetery ringing almost incessantly, so I found that the bell at the gate of the cemetery where ruined souls are buried was tolling by day and tolling by night. I said, "I will explore." I went as a physician goes into a fever lezareto to see what practical and useful information I might get. That would be a foolish doctor who would stand outside the door of an invalid writing a Latin prescription. When the lecturer in a medical college is done with his lecture, he takes the students into the dissecting room, and he shows them the reality. I went and saw and came forth to my pulpit to report a plague and to tell how sin dissects the body and dissects the mind and dissects the soul. "Oh," say you, "are you not afraid that in consequence of such exploration of the iniquities of the city other persons might make

exploration and do themselves damage?"

I reply: "If in company with the commissioner of police, and the captain of police, and the inspector of police, and the company of two Christian gentlemen, and not with the spirit of curiosity, but that you may see sin in order the better to combat it, then, in the name of the eternal God, go? But, if not, then stay away." Wellington, standing in the battle of Waterloo when the bullets were buzzing around his head, saw a civilian on the field. He said to him: "Sir, what are you doing here? Be off!" "Why," replied the civilian, "there is no more danger here for me than there is for you." Then Wellington flushed up and said, "God and my country demand that I be here, but you have no errand here." Now I, as an officer in the army of Jesus Christ, went on that exploration and on to that battlefield. If you bear a like commission, go. If not, stay away. But you say, "Don't you think that somehow the description of those places induces people to go and see for themselves? I answer yes, just as much as the description of yellow fever in some scourged city would induce people to go down there and get the pestilence.

But I may be addressing some stranger already destroyed. Where is he, that I may pointedly yet kindly address him? Come back and wash in the deep fountain of a Saviour's mercy. I do not give you a cup, or a chalice, or a pitcher with a limited supply to effect your ablutions. I point you to the five oceans of God's mercy. Oh, that the Atlantic and Pacific surges of divine forgiveness might roll over your soul! As the glorious sun of God's forgiveness rides on to-

ward the mid heavens ready to submerge you in warmth and light and love I bid you good morning. Morning of peace for all your troubles. Morning of libera-

tion for all your incarcerations. Morn-

ing of resurrection for your soul buried in sin. Good morning! Morning for the resuscitated household that has been waiting for your return. Morning for the cradle and the crib already disgraced with being that of a drunkard's child.

Morning for the daughter that has trudged off to hard work because you did not take care of home. Morning for the wife who at 40 or 50 years has the wrinkled face, and the stooped shoulder, and the white hair. Morning for one. Morning for all. Good morning! In God's name, good morning!

BEFORE PITFALLS.

In our last dreadful war the Federals and the Confederates were encamped on opposite sides of the Rappahannock, and one morning the brass band of the north-

ern troops played the national air, and all the northern troops cheered and cheered. Then on the opposite side of the Rappahannock the brass band of the

Confederates played "My Maryland" and "Dixie," and then all the southern troops cheered and cheered. But after awhile one of the bands struck up

"Home, Sweet Home," and the band on the opposite side of the river took up the strain, and when the tune was done the Confederates and the Federals all together united as the tears rolled down their cheeks in one great huzza, huzza!

Well, my friends, heaven comes very near today. It is only a stream that divides us, the narrow stream of death,

and the voices there and the voices here seem to commingle, and we join trum-

pets and hosannahs and hallelujahs, and the chorus of the united song of earth and heaven is "Home, Sweet Home."

Home of the bright domestic circle on earth. Home of forgiveness in the great heart of God. Home of eternal rest in heaven. Home! Home! Home!

But suppose you are standing on a crag of the mountain and on the edge of a precipice, and all unguarded, and some one either in joke or hate shall

run up behind you and push you off. It is easy enough to push you off. But who would do so dastardly a deed? Why, this is done every hour of every day and every hour of every night. Men come to the verge of city life and say: "Now, we will just look off. Come, young man, do not be afraid. Come near let us look off." He comes to the edge and looks

and looks until, after awhile, satan sneaks up behind him and puts a hand on each of his shoulders and pushes him off. Society says it is evil proclivity on the part of that young man. Oh, no! He was simply an explorer and sacrificed his life in discovery.

A young man comes in from the country bragging that nothing can do him any harm. He knows about all the tricks of city life. "Why," he says, "did not I receive a circular in the country telling me that somehow they found out I was a sharp business man, and if I would only send a certain amount of money by

mail or express, charges prepaid, they would send a package with which I could make a fortune in two months, but I did not believe it. My neighbors did, but

I did not. Why, no man could take my money. I carry it in a pocket inside my vest. No man could take it. No man could cheat me at the fare table. Don't I know all about the 'cue box,' and the dealer's box, and the cards stuck together as though they were one, and when to hand in my checks? Oh, they can't cheat me. I know what I am about," while at the same time, that very moment, such men are succumbing to the worst satanic influences in the simple fact that they are going to observe. Now, if a man or woman shall go down into a haunt of iniquity for the purpose of reforming men and women or for the sake of being able intelligently to warn

people against such perils; if, as did John Howard or Elizabeth Fry or Thom-

as Chalmers, they go down among the abandoned for the sake of saving them, then such explorers shall be God pro-

tected, and they will come out better than when they went in. But if you go on this work of exploration merely for the purpose of satisfying a morbid curi-

osity I will take 20 per cent off your moral character.

A PERILOUS ROAD.

Sabbath morning comes. You wake up in the hotel. You have had a longer sleep than usual. You say: "Where am I? A thousand miles from home? I have

no family to take to church today. My pastor will not expect my presence. I think I shall look over my accounts and study my memorandum book. Then I will write a few business letters and

talk to that merchant who came in on the same train with me." Stop! You cannot afford to do it.

"But," you say, "I am worth $500,000." You cannot afford to do it. You say, "I am worth $1,000,000." You cannot afford to do it. All you gain by breaking the Sabbath you will lose. You will lose one of three things--your intel-

lect, your morals or your property--and you cannot point in the whole earth to a single exception to this rule. God gives us six days and keeps one for himself.

Now, if we try to get the seventh, he will upset the work of all the other six.

I remember going up Mount Washington, before the railroad had been built, to the Tip-Top House, and the guide would come around to our horses and stop us when we were crossing a very steep and dangerous place, and he would

tighten the girth of the horse and straighten the saddle. And I have to tell you that this road of life is so steep and full of peril we must at least one day

in seven stop and have the harness of life readjusted and our souls re-requip-ped. The seven days of the week are like seven business partners, and you must give to each one his share, or the business will be broken up. God is so generous with us--he has given you six days to his one. Now, here is a father who has seven apples, and he gives six to his greedy boy, proposing to keep one for himself. The greedy boy grabs for the other one and loses all the six.

How few men there are who know how to keep the Lord's day away from home! A great many who are consistent on the banks of the St. Lawrence, or the Alabama, or the Mississippi are not con-

sistent when they get so far off as the East river. I repeat--though it is putting it on a low ground--you cannot financially

afford to break the Lord's day. It is only another way of tearing up your government securities and putting down

the price of goods and blowing up your store. I have friends who are all the time slicing off pieces of the Sabbath.

They cut a little of the Sabbath off that end and a little of the Sabbath off this end. They do not keep the 24 hours. The Bible says, "Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy."

I have good friends who are quite ac-

customed to leaving Albany by the midnight train on Saturday night and getting home before church. Now, there may be occasions when it is right, but generally it is wrong. How if the train should run off the track into the North

river? I hope your friends will not send to me to preach your funeral sermon. It would be an awkward thing for me to stand up by your side and preach, you,

a Christian man, killed on a rail train traveling on a Sunday morning. "Remember the Sabbath day to keep it holy." What does that mean? It means

24 hours. A man owes you a dollar? You don't want him to pay you 90 cents.

You want the dollar. If God demands of us 24 hours out of the week, he means 24 hours and not 19. Oh, we want to keep vigilantly in this country the American Sabbath and not have transplanted here the European Sabbath, which for the most part is no Sabbath at all. If any of you have been in Paris, you

know that on Sabbath morning the vast population rush out toward the country with baskets and bundles, and toward

night they come back tagged out, cross and intoxicated. May God preserve to me our glorious, quiet American Sabbaths.

Oh, strangers, welcome to the great city! May you find Christ here, and not any physical or moral damage. Men com-

ing from inland, from distant cities, have here found God and found him in our service. May that be your case today. You thought you were brought to this place merely for the purpose of sightseeing. Perhaps God brought you to this roaring city for the purpose of working out your eternal salvation. Go back to your homes and tell them how you met Christ here, the loving, patient, pardon-

ing and sympathetic Christ. Who knows but the city which has been the destruc-

tion of so many may be your eternal re-

demption?

A good many years ago Edward Stanley, the English commander, with his

regiment, took a fort. The fort was manned by some 300 Spaniards. Ed-

ward Stanley came close up to the fort, leading his men, when a Spaniard

thrust at him with a spear, intending to destroy his life, but Stanley caught hold of the spear, and the Spaniard in attempting to jerk the spear away from Stanley lifted him up into the battle-

ments. No sooner had Stanley taken his position on the battlements than he swung his sword, and his whole regi-

ment leaped after him, and the fort was taken. So it may be with you, O stran-

ger. The city influences which have de-

stroyed so many and dashed them down forever shall be the means of lifting you up into the tower of God's mercy and strength, your soul more than conqueror through the grace of him who has promised an especial benediction to those who shall treat you well, saying, "I was a stranger, and ye took me in."

Missionary Work In China. A missionary, wishing to spur up a new comer to good works, said: "Havent you preached in Chinese yet? Why, I preached after being here six months, didn't I?" turning to a native who had been with him at the time and could bear witness to his great zeal. "Yes," replied the Chinaman, "you did preach, although none of us understood what you said, but we knew you were very angry about something." A newcomer, going out for a walk, thought he would improve the time (and his language, by the practice) by preaching to a Chinaman on the road, so he began his address by saying (as he thought), "Do you know you have a soul?" The Chinaman stopped short and looked in amazement upon the missionary, who repeated solemnly, "Yes, you have a soul." Seeing that the Chinaman was quite impressed by the new thought, the good man gathered all his forces together for a telling sermon, beginning by repeating again very emphatically, "You have a soul and"--but the Chinaman had taken to his heels, leaving the missionary to find out that by say-

ing "wur" instead of "whur" he had in-

formed his victim, "You have a bad odor."--New York Independent.

The Influence of the Republic. Think of what the republic has done for humanity! When we started at the end of the last century, the statesmen of Europe shrugged their shoulders at the most dangerous political experiment that was ever tried on a large scale. A government by the people, they declared, means a series of revolutions. It is great, it is glorious, but it is utopian and will end in disaster. Central America and South America followed our example until the whole western hem-

isphere became republican. France had ambitions, and after a series of struggles won a grand success. The idea was tri-

umphant, and the time is not far distant when crowns will be placed on the shelf with the rest of the bric-a-brac.--New York Telegram.

Altogether Too Familiar.

Dr. A. T. Pierson, in some pithy, practical hints on pulpit oratory, says that to be winning is to be wise, but it must not be overdone. He has a friend, an evangelist, who got into the habit of calling his audience "dear souls." Inadvertently he would say as he passed from place to place, "Dear Belfast souls," "Dear Dublin souls"--and before he knew it he was saying, "Dear Cork souls," which convulsed his Irish audi-ence.--London Tit-Bits.

ODDS AND ENDS.

The residences situated in London are worth £700,000,000. It is stated that not one Arab woman in all Algeria is able to read. At 20 years of age the will reigns; at 30, the wit, and at 40 the judgment.--Grattan. The raising of silkworms became prominent in Italy during the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. The first hatmakers who plied their trade in England were Spaniards, who came to that country in 1510. The latest census of Europe shows the population to consist of 170,818,561 males and 174,914,119 females. The earliest method of spinning was by bunching a few fibers and rolling them into a thread with the hands.

General Grant's book has earned $500,000, and it is not unlikely that Mrs. Grant will get a million out of it.

The barber surgeons' guild in England was formed in 1308. The two professions were practiced together until 1745.

A piece of wood from the coffin of George Washington is claimed to be in the possession of Mr. Jacob Parcels of Marcus Hook, Pa. It takes a Frenchman to be thoroughly apropos. White horses in Paris invariably draw the hearses of children and young unmarried persons.

Leather working was practiced in Egypt at least 4,000 years ago. There are manuscripts of that age written on an excellent article of leather.

The potter's wheel was known to the Greeks of the fourth century before Christ. The vases were first turned, then glazed and burned, then painted and burned again to fix the colors.

The silk manufactures of Europe be-

gan in the isle of Cos, off the Greek coast, about A. D. 274. The oriental silks were imported, unraveled and the thread woven into a loose semitranspare-

ent tissue.

Any three western states could hold the entire population of the United States comfortably, and it has long been the boast of Texas that she could ac-

commodate the population of the whole world, with room enough to keep them from rubbing elbows.

The Unrepresented.

At a recent meeting of the Woman's Suffrage league Mrs. Lillie Devereux Blake, the indefatigable speaker, made the important address of the evening, and delivered as it was, in simple conversational manner, touched by much humor, it was really quite effective. In plain fashion Mrs. Blake catalogued the practical grievances of the nonvoting woman. They had to make their livings like men in many cases, and offices they could fill equally well were closed to them. When they were permitted to do the same work as men, they received less pay, although frequently admitted to be the superior employees. Women teachers, however capable, received less than men. In the Washington departments they had no salaried equality with the men, although constantly found more efficient. Here in New York a shopgirl got $5 a week where a man got $10, and she herself had seen this same half paid girl teaching the man his business. Why was all this? Because

women couldn't vote.

The legislature would further be shown the millions in property owned by women, and it would this year, if ever, be borne in upon them that taxation without representation was cruel and unjust. Many persons, Mrs. Blake said, urged that woman's place was at home. She fully agreed with them it

was, but in so far as voting was con-

cerned one might as well say that man

could not vote because he had business in his office as that woman could not do so because she had duties in the nursery. Voting should not clash with domesticity any more than with business progress. Mrs. Blake dwelt favorably on the large advent of fashionable women to the cause.--New York Letter.

Lobengula.

Dr. Carnegie, the missionary, says Lobengula wished to enjoy some fruits of civilization while rejecting many others.

He tolerated the presence of a few mis-

sionaries because they brought him good things from Europe that he coveted, but he would do absolutely nothing to help them. A word from him would have filled their schools with children, but he would not give it. The people believed he was all powerful. It was he who brought the rain and abundant harvests.

Their teeming gardens and abundance of beer and cattle exhibited the mighty power of the king and his mindfulness of their wants. An encouraging word from him would have done wonders for the missionaries, yet when they asked him to send them children to teach he would not lift a finger to help them.

When Carnegie was about to go home, he asked the king what he should tell the white people about him, seeing that he had been so indifferent to the prog-

ress of missionary work. The king re-

plied, "You will tell them what you have seen."

It was probably as well for Lobengula that he died when he did. His peo-

pled forced him into the war, believing that he was invincible. His overwhelming defeat destroyed all confidence in him as the great wonder worker of the tribe, a father who by his supernatural power could always protect his people. He could never have been king again.--New York Sun.

Those Sensational Newspapers.

Mr. Reader--The papers mention a number of instances in which labor unions have loaned money to employers in order to keep the works running dur-

ing the dull times.

Mrs. Reader--Yes, I noticed that, but I don't believe it.

"Why not?"

"I told Bridget about it and asked her to lend me some money to pay her wages, and she got as mad as a hornet."--New York Weekly.

Priceless Relics.

Among the relics donated last year to the British museum in London is a green basalt weight inscribed with the name of Nebuchadnezzar II. The weight is of the denomination of one mana according to the scale of Dungi, king of Babylonia in 2500 B. C.

Other contributions include marbles and terra cotta from excavations at Porta Pertusa and Civita Lavinia, and a plate of the rare enameled German ware

of the last portion of the fifteenth cen-tury.--Jeweler's Weekly.

GREAT BARGAINS IN SPRING & 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.

HOTEL BRIGHTON,

R. R. SOOY, Proprietor. SEVENTH AND OCEAN AVENUE

OCEAN CITY, NEW JERSEY. FIRST-CLASS HOUSE. DIRECTLY ON THE BEACH.

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 225. 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 else-

where.

Money to loan on Bond and Mortgage on Improved Property.