THE CITY OF BLOOD. REV. DR. TALMAGE GIVES ANOTHER VIVID ROUND THE WORLD SERMON.

He Describes the Appalling Massacre of Christians at Cawnpur in the Name of Religion, and Recounts the Beauty of the Christian Faith.

BROOKLYN, Dec. 9.--Dr. Talmage today delivered through the press the second of his "round the world" series of sermons, the subject being "The City of Blood," and the text selected being Psalms cxli, 7: "Our bones are scattered at the grave's mouth, as when one butteth and cleaveth wood upon the earth. But mine eyes are unto thee, O

God, the Lord!"

Though you may read this text from the Bible, I read it as cut by chisel into the pedestal of a cross beneath which lie many of the massacred at Cawnpur, India. To show you what Hindooism and Mohammedism really are, where they have full swing, and not as they represent themselves in a "parliament of religions," and to demonstrate to what extent of cruelty and abomination human nature may go when fully let loose, and to illustrate the hardening process of sin, and to remind you how our glorious Christianity may [?]er its triumph over death and the grave, I preach this my second sermon in the round the world series, and I shall speak of "The City of Blood," or Cawn-

pur, India.

Two hours and ten minutes after its

occurrence Joseph Lee of the Shropshire

dll,Win

regiment of foot rode in upon the Cawnpur massacre. He was the first man I met at Cawnpur. I wanted to heat the story from some one who had been here in 1857 and with his own eyes gazed upon the slaughtered heaps of humanity. I could hardly wait until the horses were put to the carriage, and Mr. Lee, seated with us, started for the scene, the story of which makes tame in contrast all Modoc and Chocktow butcheries.

A Genuine Villain.

It seems that all the worst passions of the century were to be impersonated by one man, and he Nana Sahib, and our escort at Cawnpur, Joseph Lee, knew the man personally. Unfortunately there is no correct picture of Nana Sahib in existence. The pictures of him published in the books of Europe and America and familiar to us all are an amusing mistake. This is the fact in regard to them: A lawyer of England was called to India for the purpose of defending the case of a native who had been charged with fraud. The attorney came and so skillfully managed the case of his client that the client paid him enormously for his services, and he went back to England, taking with him a picture of his Indian client. After awhile the mutiny in India broke out, and Nana Sahib was mentioned as the champion villain of the whole affair, and the newspapers of England wanted a picture of him and to interview some one on Indian affairs who had recently

been in India.

Among others the journalists called upon this lawyer, lately returned. The only picture he had brought from India was a picture of his client, the man charged with fraud. The attorney gave this picture to the journals as a specimen of the way the Hindoos dress, and forthwith that picture was used, either by mistake or intentionally, for Nana Sahib. The English lawyer said he lived in dread that his client would some day see the use made of his picture, and it was not until the death of his Hindoo client that the lawyer divulged the facts. Perhaps it was never intended that the face of such a demon should be preserved amid human records. I said to our escorts, "Mr. Lee, was there any peculiarity in Nana Sahib's appearance?" The reply was: "Nothing very peculiar. He was a dull, lazy, cowardly, sensual man, brought up to do nothing, and wanted to continue on the same

scale to do nothing."

From what Mr. Lee told me and from all I could learn in India, Nana Sahib ordered the massacre in that city from sheer revenge. His father abdicated the throne, and the English paid him annually a pension of $400,000. When the father died, the English government declined to pay the same pension to the son, Nana Sahib, but the poor fellow was not in any suffering from lack of funds. His father left him $80,000 in gold ornaments, $590,000 in jewels, $690,000 in bonds and other resources amounting to at least $1,500,000. But the poor young man was not satisfied, and the Cawnpur massacre was his revenge. General Wheeler, the Englishman who had command of this city, although often warned, could not see that the sepoys were planning for his destruction, and that of all his regiments and all the Europeans in Cawnpur.

The Decree of Nana Sahib.

Mr. Lee explained all this to me by the fact that General Wheeler had married a native, and he naturally took her story and thought there was no peril. But the time for the proclamation from Nana Sahib had come, and such a document went forth as never before had seen the light of day. I give only an extract: "As by the kindness of God, and the good fortune of the emperor, all the Christians who were at Delhi, Poonah, Suthara and other places, and even those 5,000 European soldiers who went in disguise into the former city and were discovered, are destroyed and sent to hell by the pions and sagacious troops who are firm to their religion, and as they have all been conquered by the present government, and as no trace of them is left in these places, it is the duty of all the subjects and servants of the government to rejoice at the delightful intelligence and carry on their respective work with comfort and ease. As by the beauty of the glorious Almighty and the enemy destroying fortunes of the emperor, the yellow faced and narrow minded people have been sent to hell, and Cawnpur has been conquered, it is necessary that all the subjects and landowners and government servants should be as obedient to the present government as they have been to the former one; that it is the incumbent duty of all the peasants and landed proprietors of every district to rejoice at the thought that the Christians have been sent to hell, and both the Hindoo and Mohammedan religions have been confirmed, and that they should, as usual, be obedient to the authorities of the government and never offer any complaint against themselves to reach the ears of the higher authority."

The Siege of Cawnpur.

"Mr. Lee, what is this?" I said to our escort as the carriage halted by an embankment. "Here," he said, "is the intrenchment where the Christians of Cawnpur took refuge." It is the remains of a wall which at the time of the mutiny was only four feet high, behind which, with no shelter from the sun, the heat at 130 degrees, 440 men and 560 women and children dwelt nearly a month. A handful of flour and split peas was the daily ration, and only two wells near by, the one in which they buried their dead, because they had no time to bury them in the earth, and the other well the focus on which the artillery of the enemy played, so that it was a choice between death by thirst and death by bullet or shell. Ten thousand yelling Hindoos outside the frail wall and 1,000 suffering, dying people inside. In addition to the army of the Hindoos and Moslems, an invisible army of sicknesses swooped down upon them. Some went raving mad under exposure. Others dropped under apoplexy. A starving, mutilated, fevered, sunstruck, ghastly group waiting to die! Why did not the heathen dash down those mud walls and the 10,000 annihilate the now less than 1,000? It was because they seemed supernaturally defended. Nana Sahib resolved to celebrate an anniversary. The 23d of June, 1857, would be 100 years since the battle of Plassy, when, under Lord Clive, India surrendered to England. That day the last European in Cawnpur was to be slaughtered. Other anniversaries have been celebrated with wine. This was to be celebrated with blood. Other anniversaries have been adorned with garlands. This with drawn swords. Others have been kept with songs. This with execrations. Others with the dance of the gay. This with the dance of death.

The infantry and cavalry and artillery of Nana Sahib made on that day one grand assault, but the few guns of the English and Scotch put to flight these Hindoo tigers. The courage of the fiends broke against that mud wall as the waves of the sea against a lighthouse.

The cavalry horses returned full run without their riders. The Lord looked out from the heavens, and on that anniversary day gave the victory to his people.

Therefore Nana Sahib must try some other plan. Standing in a field not far from the intrenchment of the English was a native Christian woman, Jacobee by name, holding high up in her hand a letter. It was evidently a communication from the enemy, and General Wheeler ordered the woman brought in. She handed him a proposed treaty. If General Wheeler and his men would give up their weapons, Nana Sahib would conduct them into safety. They could march out unmolested, the men, women and children. They could go down tomorrow to the Ganges, where they would find boats to take them in peace to Allahabad.

The Treaty Signed.

There was some opposition to signing this treaty, but General Wheeler's wife told him he could trust the natives, and

so he signed the treaty. There was great

joy in the intrenchment that night. Without molestation they went out and got plenty of water to drink and water

for a good wash. The hunger and thirst

and exposure from the consuming sun, with the thermometer from 120 to 140, would cease. Mothers rejoiced at the prospect of saving their children. The young ladies of the intrenchment would escape the wild beasts in human form. On the morrow, true to the promise, carts were ready to transport those who

were too much exhausted to walk.

"Get in the carriage," said Mr. Lee, "and we will ride to the banks of the Ganges, for which the liberated combatants and noncombatants started from this place." On our way Mr. Lee pointed our a monument over the burial place which was opened for General Wheeler's intrenchment, the well into which every night the dead had been dropped. Around it is a curious memorial. There are five crosses, one at each corner of the garden and one at the center, from which inscription I today read my text. Riding on, we came to the Memorial church built to the memory of those fallen in Cawnpur. The walls are covered with tablets and epitaphs. I copied two or three of the inscriptions: "These are they who come out of great tribulation;" also, "The dead shall be raised incorruptible;" also, "In the world ye shall have tribulation, but be of good cheer. I have overcome the world;" also: "The Lord gave. The Lord hath taken away;" also, "Come

unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden."

"Get into the carriage," said Mr. Lee, and we rode on to the Ganges and got out at a Hindoo temple standing on the banks. "Now," said Mr. Lee, "here is the place to which General Wheeler and his people came under the escort of Nana Sahib." I went down the steps to the margin of the river. Down these steps went General Wheeler and the men, women and children under his care. They stood on one side of the steps, and Nana Sahib and his staff stood on the other side. As the women were getting into the boats Nana Sahib objected that only the aged and infirm women and children should go on board the boats. The young and attractive women were kept out. Twenty-eight boats were filled with men, women and children and floated out into the river. Each boat contained ten armed natives. Then three boats fastened together were brought up, and General Wheeler and his staff got in. Although orders were given to start, the three boats were somehow detained. At this juncture a boy of 12 years of age hoisted on the top of the Hindoo temple on the banks two flags, a Hindoo and a Mohammedan flag, at which signal the natives jumped from the boats and swam for the shore, and from innumerable guns the natives on the bank fired on the boats, and masked batteries above and below roared with destruction, and the boats sank with their precious cargo, and all went down save three strong swimmers, who got to the opposite shore. Those who struggled out near by were dashed to death. Nana Sahib and his staff with their swords slashed to pieces General Wheeler and his staff, who had not got well away from the shore.

I said that the young and attractive women were not allowed to get into the boats. These were marched away under the guard of the sepoys.

Days of Horror. "Which way?" I inquired. "I will show you," said Mr. Lee. Again we took seats in the carriage and started for the climax of desperation and diabolism.

Now we are on the way to a summer house, called the assembly rooms, which had been built for recreation and pleasure. It had two rooms, each 29 by 10, and some windowless closets, and here were imprisoned 206 helpless people. It was to become the prison of these women and children. Some of these sepoys got permission from Nana Sahib to take one or more of these ladies to their own place on the promise they should be brought back to the sum-

mer garden next morning. A daughter of General Wheeler was so taken and did not return. She afterward married the Mohammedan who had taken her to his tent. Some sepoys amused them-

selves by thrusting children through with bayonets and holding them up before their mothers in the summer house.

All the doors closed and the sepoys standing guard, the crowded women and children waited their doom for 18 days and nights amid sickness and flies and stench and starvation.

Then Nana Sahib heard that Havelock was coming, and his name was a terror to the sepoys. Lest the women and children imprisoned in the summer house, or assembly rooms, should be lib-

erated, he ordered that their throats should be cut. The officers were com-

manded to do the work and attempted it, but failed because the law of caste would not allow the Hindoo to hold the victims while they were being slain.

Then the men were ordered to fire

through the windows, but they fired over the heads of the imprisoned ones, and only a few were killed. Then Nana Sahib was in a rage and ordered professional butchers from among the lowest of the gypsies to go at the work. Five of them, with hatchets and swords and knives, began the work, but three of them collapsed and fainted under the ghastliness, and it was left to two butchers to complete the slaughter. The struggle, the sharp cut, the blinding blow, the cleaving through scalp and skull, the begging for life, the death agony of hour after hour, the tangled limbs of the corpses, the piled up dead--only God and those who were inside the summer house can ever know. The butchers came out exhausted, thinking they had done their work, and the doors were closed, but when they were again opened three women and three boys were still alive. All these were soon dispatched, and not a Christian or a European was left in Cawnpur. The murderers were paid 50 cents for each lady slain. The Mohammedan assassins dragged by the hair the dead bodies out of the summer house and threw them into a well, by which I stood with such feelings as you cannot imagine. But after the mutilated bodies had been thrown into the well the record of the scene remained in hieroglyphics of crimson on the floor and wall of the slaughter house. An eyewitness says that as he walked in the blood was shoe deep, and on this blood were tufts of hair, pieces of muslin, broken combs, fragments of pinafores, children's straw hats, a cardcase containing a curl, with the inscription, "Ned's hair, with love;" a few leaves of an Episcopal prayer book; also a book entitled "Preparation For Death;" a Bible on the fly leaf of which was written, "For darling mamma, from her affectionate daughter, Isabella Blair," both the one who presented it and the one to whom it was presented departed forever. I said, "Mr. Lee, I have heard that indelicate things were found written on the walls." He answered, "No, but these poor creatures wrote in charcoal and scratched on the wall the story of the brutalities they had suffered."

Havelock to the Rescue.

When the English and Scotch troops came upon the scene, their wrath was so great that General Neill had the butchers arrested, and before being shot compelled them to wipe up part of the floor of this place of massacre, this being the worst of their punishment, for there is nothing that a Hindoo so hates as to touch blood.

When Havelock came upon the scene, he had this order annulled. The well was now not only full of human bodies, but corpses piled on the outside. The soldiers were for many hours engaged in covering the dead.

It was about 5 o'clock in the evening when I came upon this place in Cawnpur. The building in which the massacre took place has been torn down and a garden of exquisite and fragrant flowers surrounds the scene. Mr. Lee pointed out to us some 70 mounds containing bodies or portions of bodies of those not thrown into the well. A soldier stands on guard to keep the foliage and flowers from being ruthlessly pulled. I asked a soldier if I might take a rose as a memento, and he handed me a cluster of roses, red and white, both colors suggestive to me--the red typical of the carnage there enacted and the white for the purity of those who from that spot ascended.

But of course the most absorbing interest concentrated at the well, into which hundreds of women and children were flung or lowered. A circular wall of white marble incloses this well. The wall is about 20 feet high. Inside this wall there is a marble pavement. I paced it and found it 57 paces around. In the center of this inclosure and immediately above the well of the dead is a sculptured angel of resurrection, with illumined face, and two palm branches, meaning victory. This angel is looking down toward the slumberers beneath, but the two wings suggest the rising of the last day. Mighty consolation in marble! They went down under the hatches of the sepoys. They shall come up under the trumpet that shall wake the dead. I felt weak and all a-tremble as I stood reading these words on the stone that covers the well: "Sacred to the perpetual memory of a great company of Christian people, chiefly women and children, cruelly murdered near this spot by the rebel, Nana Sahib, and thrown, the dying with the dead, into the well beneath on the 15th day of July, 1857." On the arch of the mausoleum were [?] the words, "These are they who came out of great tribulation."

The Fate of the Rebel.

The sun was sinking beneath the horizon as I came down the seven or eight steps of that palace of a sepulcher, and I bethought myself: "No emperor, unless it was Napoleon, ever had more glories around his pillow of dust, and the queen, unless it were one of Taj Mahal, had reared for her grander cenotaph than crowns the resting places of the martyrs of Cawnpur. But where rest the bones of the Herod of the nineteenth century, Nana Sahib? No one can tell. Two men sent out to find the whereabouts of the daughter of General Wheeler traced Nana Sahib during a week's ride into the wilderness, and they were told that for awhile after the mutiny Nana Sahib set up a little pomp in the jungles. Among a few thousand Hindoos and Mohammedans he took for himself the only two tents the neighbors had, while they lived in the rain and mud. Nana Sahib, with one servant carrying an umbrella, would go every day to bathe, and people would go and stare. For some reason, after awhile he forsook even that small attention, and disappeared among the ravines of the Himalayan mountains. He took with him in his flight that which he always took with him--a ruby of vast value.

He wore it as some wear an amulet. He wore it as some wear a life preserver. He wore it on his bosom. The Hindoo priest told him as long as he wore that ruby his fortunes would be good, but both the ruby and the prince who wore it have vanished. Not a treasure on the outside of the bosom, but a treasure inside the heart, is the last protection. Solomon, who had rubies in the hilt of swords, and rubies in the lip of the tankards, and rubies in his crown, declared that which Nana Sahib did not find out in time, "Wisdom is better than rubies." When the forests of India are cleared by the axes of another civilization, the lost ruby of this Cawnpur monster may be picked up and be brought back again to blaze among the world's jewels. But who shall reclaim for decent sculpture the remains of Nana Sahib? Ask the vultures! Ask the reptiles! Ask the jackals! Ask the midnight Himalayas!

Cruelty Matched Cruelty.

Much criticism has been made of Sir Henry Havelock and Sir Colin Campbell because of the exterminating work they did with these sepoys. Indeed it was awful. My escort, Mr. Lee, has told me that he saw the sepoys fastened to the mouths of cannon, and then the guns would fire, and for a few seconds there would be nothing but smoke, and as the smoke began to lift fragments of flesh would be found flying through the air.

You may do your own criticism. I here express no opinion. There can be no doubt, however, that that mode of finally treating the sepoys broke the back of the mutiny. The Hindoos found that the Europeans could play at the same game which the Asiatics had started. The plot was organized for the murder of all the Europeans and Americans in India. Under its knives and bludgeons American Presbyterians lost its glor--ous missionaries, Rev. Mr. and Mrs. Campbell, Rev. Mr. and Mrs. MacMullin, Rev. Mr. and Mrs. Johnson, Rev. Mr. and Mrs. Freeman. The work of slaughter had been begun in all directions on an appalling scale, and the commanders of the English army made up their minds that this was the best way to stop it. A mild and gentle war with the sepoys was an impossibility. The natives of India ever and anon have demonstrated their cruelty. I stood on the very spot in Calcutta where the natives of India in 1756 enacted that scene which no other people on earth could have enacted.

The Black Hole prison has been torn down, but a stone pavement 20 feet by 20 indicates the ground covered by the prison. The building had two small windows and was intended for two or three prisoners. The natives of India crowded into that one room of 20 feet by 20 feet 146 Europeans. The midsummer heat, the suffocation, the tramping of one another, the groaning and shrieking and begging and praying of all, are matters of history. The sepoys that night held lights to the small win-

dows and mocked the sufferers. Then all the sounds ceased. That night of June 20, 1756, passed, and 123 corpses were taken out. Only 23 of the 146 were alive, and they had to be pulled out from under the corpses. Mr. Carey, who survived, was taken by the Indian nabob into his harem and kept a prisoner six years. Lucknow in 1857 was only an echo of Calcutta in 1756. During the mutiny of which I have been speaking natives who had been in the service of Europeans and well treated by them, and with no cause of offence, would, at the call of the mutineers, and without any compunction, stab to death the fathers and mothers of the household and dash out the brains of the children. These natives are at peace now, but give them a chance, and they will re-enact the scenes of 1756 and 1857. They look upon the English as conquerors and themselves as conquered. The mutiny of 1857 occurred because the British government was too lenient and put in places of trust and in command of forts too many of the natives.

England Too Lenient. I call upon England to stop the present attempt to palliate the natives by allowing them to hold positions of trust. I am no alarmist, but the only way that these Asiatics can be kept from another mutiny is to put them out of power, and I say beware, of the Lucknow and Cawnpur and Delhi martyrdomes, over which the hemispheres have wept, will be eclipsed by the Lucknow and Cawnpur and Delhi martyrdoms yet to be enacted. I speak of what I have seen and heard. I give the opinion of every intelligent Englishman and Scotchman and Irishman and American whom I met in India. Prevention is better than cure. I do not say it is better that England rule India. I say nothing against the right of India to rule herself, but I do say that the moment the native population of India think there is a possibility of driving back Europeans from India they will make the attempt, and that they have enough cruelties for the time suppressed, which, if let loose, would submerge with carnage everything from Calcutta to Bombay and from the Himalayas to the Coromandel.

Now, my friends, go home, after what I have said, to see the beauties of Mohammedism and Hindooism which many think will be well to have introduced into America, and to dwell upon what natural evolution will do where it has had its unhindered way for thousands of years, and to think upon the wonders of martyrdom for Christ's sake, and to pray more earnest prayers for the missionaries, and to con-

tribute more largely for the world's evangelization, and to be more assured than ever that the overthrow of the idolatries of nations is such a stupendous work that nothing but an omnipotent God through the gospel of Jesus Christ can ever achieve it. Amen!

THE RETIRED BURGLAR. An Adventure Showing That a Live Woman Is More to Be Dreaded Than a Ghost.

"At 2 o'clock one morning," said the retired burglar, "I was in a good sized second story back bedroom in a comfortable old house in a country town in

Massachusetts. The [?] this room was empty, but the clothes [?] turned back, and the bed had evidently been occupied. It stood in the rear corner farthest from the door, with the head-

board against the rear wall and the side of the bed about a foot or so away from the side wall. At the foot of the bed against the side wall, about in the middle of that side of the room and right opposite the door, stood the bureau. Between it and the footboard it-

self there was a space of perhaps a foot, maybe a foot and a half, enough for

anybody to pass through comfortably.

"I stood now in front of the bureau. I had set my lamp down on top of it and had just opened the top drawer when something prompted me to look up into the mirror. In that mirror I saw, dim, but clear enough, the reflection of a ghost in the hall. There was a faint light in the hall, just a little from a lamp standing on a table near the front [?], and by that light, when I turned to look, I saw the ghost. It was moving from the rear of the house to-

ward the front, along the hall, a little nearer to the side I was on than to the

other, and moving slowly, like a stage ghost. It was tall and spare and all in

white, with something white over its head. It moved slowly across the door and disappeared. After it had gone I stood there, with my back to the bureau, staring at the doorway.

"A moment later it reappeared, moving now toward the rear of the house, and this time nearer still to my side of the hall. It was moving slowly, as before, but instead of passing by it turned toward my doorway when it came opposite to it and came in over the sill and moved slowly across the room straight toward me. Nearer and nearer,

and I couldn't move until something told me--I wondered why it hadn't come to me before--that the ghost was a sleep walker. It was a woman. This was her room, and she was coming back where she belonged.

Of course I felt a little easier then, but I wanted to get away, and I thought I should soon be able to, for I supposed, of course, that she was making for the bed, and the idea that she would do anything but go to the front of the bed and get in there, like any other human being, never entered my head. While she was coming across the room I had sort of involuntarily backed into that gap between the corner of the bureau and the footboard of the bed. I stood there looking at her while she was still coming straight across toward the bu-

reau, never doubting that she would turn in time and go to the front of the bed, and she did turn and move in that direction, but when she got pretty near to the other corner of the footboard from where I was she turned again and started toward the gap that I was standing in, evidently with the inten-

tion of going around to the back of the bed between it and the wall and getting in on that side. That last three or four feet along the footboard she seemed to glide as smooth as ever, but quicker than [?], I in the way and too scared to move. She was awake the in-

stant she touched me and screaming like a mad woman, and I was awake then, my friend, finally, and clawing across that bed to a window there was at the head of it I cleaned that window out, blinds and all, with one sweep of the jimmy and jumped."--New York Sun.

A SUNDAY FOX HUNT.

An Impromptu Chase That Brought Mortification to the Participants.

Benjamin S. Rupp of Talmage, Wis., tells this story of his personal experiences:

"One Sunday about a year ago I mounted a horse often used for fox hunting to ride down to the back pasture lot to give the calves a bit of salt, and,

as usual, my four hounds followed. It was a beautiful, clear morning, just after a rain, with the roads decidedly muddy. Suddenly over toward Earlville I heard a pack of hounds on a hot trail.

So did my horse and dogs. My horse was bound to go, and as I could not keep the dogs back, and fearing they would be lost, I thought I would go a little way up the hill and see what the racket was about. My horse was so excited that I could not hold him.

"I passed several staid old Mennonites going to church and splattered them full of mud, but I pulled my hat down, looked solemn and as if crying, and they thought I was going for a doctor. I had not run a mile till I had met Sam Carpenter, who has 25 dogs; Sylvester Miller, who has ten dogs, and who were

out salting their calves and could not hold their horses any better than I could. As we went on, at some cross-

roads or forks we met Rudy Frankhouser, Jacob Sowers, Rolland Royer, John Sowers, Martin Balmer, Mart Kuppenhafer, Adam Hoover and about 20 more who had gone out that morn-

ing also to salt calves. It was a regular salting day, and I never knew that there were so many calves in West Earl town-

ship, and that they were all given a lick of salted bran on the same day. It was a really singular coincidence. Now, some of the men were riding barebacked, some were on mules, some only with blind bridles on their steeds; none was dressed for either church meeting or fox hunting.

"It was the most innocent party I ever saw, and they did all they could to curb mules and horses and call off the hounds. But the trail was hot and the dogs eager. We might just as well have whistled jigs to milestones and expect them to dance. So the hunt went on, and we could not stop it. We ran to Farm-

ersville, then to Hinkletown, next to Vegansville and wound up at Groffdale --about 50 riders who had all gone out in the most pious way on Sunday morning to salt calves in the back lots and were led astray by circumstances over

which they had no control. The worst

of the whole matter was that that infernal fox, possessed by the devil, took

us by every church in the neighborhood.

He almost ran into one church, and we were forced to ride by--splattering mud

in all directions, scaring the old people and taking the thoughts of the young folks off sacred things.

"When we first started, we tried to make the people believe we were after a thief, the doctor, priest, or that we thought we were late for church service and so were riding fast and furious. But this racket would not do. There were too many of us and 100 dogs on a hot trail. We pulled our horses and mules and shouted at the wicked, ungodly dogs, but no good. He had a

through ticket at special rates and could not stop off. There were all kinds of creeds among us riders, and that fox took us by our respective churches. The preachers saw us, our elders, deacons, our wives, daughters and sweethearts beheld us, and every one wept great weeps."--New York Advertiser.

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LOW PRICES. Satisfaction Gauranteed. [sic]

Art Furniture. "That stove," began the customer, with deadly calmness, "you sold me last week was an 'art stove,' I believe?" "Yes," admitted the dealer. "Isn't it?" "It doesn't know any more about art than a hog does about Sunday." "Eh? What?" "I say it doesn't know the first thing about art. I haven't tried it on painting yet, but it can't draw worth a cent."--Indianapolis Journal.

The Violet.

The violet does best in a moderately rich, moisture looking loamy compost, with no rank manure within reach of the roots. The planting should be firmly done, crowding of the plants not allowed and but little space between the lights and the plants permitted. Therefore the foundation of the bed must not be of a yielding character, and for this

purpose nothing is worse than manure or tree leaves.--St. Louis Post-Dispatch.

W. L. DOUGLAS $3 SHOE IS THE BEST. NO SQUEAKING. $5 CORDOVAN, FRENCH & ENAMELLED CALF. $4. $3.50 FINE CALF & KANGAROO. $3.50 POLICE, 3 SOLES. $2.50 $2. WORKINGMENS EXTRA FINE. $2. $1.75 BOYS' SCHOOL SHOES. LADIES $3. $2.50 $2. $1.75 BEST DONGOLA. SEND FOR CATALOGUE. W. L. DOUGLAS, BROCKTON, MASS. You can save money by purchasing W. L. Douglas Shoes. Because, we are the largest manufacturers of advertised shoes in the world, and guarantee the value by stamping the name and price on the bottom, which protects you against high prices and the middleman's profits. Our shoes equal custom work in style, easy fitting and wearing qualities. We have them sold everywhere at lower prices for the value given than any other make. Take no substitute. If your dealer cannot supply you we can. Sold by C. A. CAMPBELL.

His Fame.

Grubb--I think your boy will become a very distinguished man if he lives long enough.

"Yes? What do you think he will be distinguished for?" "Longevity, if he lives long enough." --London Tit-Bits.

Amusement For Two.

A good story is told of William Swisher, one of the veterans of the

Grand Army. He was in a Colorado town not long ago without money, but with a great thirst. He was sizing up a saloon outfit from a corner seat when a westerner invited him to take a drink. "No," replied Bill deliberately, "I will not drink today."

"Won't you, Mr. Boiled Shirt?" replied the cowboy. "We shall see." Then he turned to the bartender. "Put ten whisky glasses along the bar in a row. Now fill 'em up." When they were filled, he drew a pistol and cocked it. "Drink down the line," he commanded.

Bill slowly drained each glass. When the last was down, he placed it on the counter, set the ten glasses in line and turned to the cowboy.

"Now, mister," said he, "if you have 'em filled again, I'll drink my way back."--Pittsburg Post.

One Man's Name. "Thomas Fransligetterskypesfunderknickellepennsay" was written on a card which an anarchistic looking individual handed to Justice Kane. "Looks like an alphabetical riot," ventured his honor uncertainly. "Nein, nein, das ist mein name. I

have you some business mit," was the reply.

Judge Kane warmly assured his visitor that the clerk would attend his

slightest wish and hastily left the room.

"I guess you've got 'em all there," said the clerk critically as he reviewed the alphabetical dress parade on the card, "but that's not the way I learned them."

He was heard of later in Justice Slavin's court, where he entered suit against a man with a name almost as complicated as his own.--St. Louis Globe-Democrat.

Mexican Buried Cities.

"It is surprising to me that the country along the San Pedro river, in Mex-

ico, is not more explored, said C. T. Jeroulman. "There are buried cities there that almost rival Pompeii and Herculaneum. In the state of Tabasco I have seen one of these cities that must

have been very large, there being a number of pyramids standing that are

without a parallel except in those of Egypt. The country has at one time

been in a very high state of cultivation, and the remains of great hydraulic

works can be found. The attention of scientists does not seem to have been attracted in that direction, but a rich and as yet unexplored field awaits them."--Cincinnati Engineer.

Brush That Raises No Dust.

An antidust brush, says Cassell's Family Magazine, has just been pat-

ented the use of which does away with any necessity for sprinkling floors with

water, tea leaves, sawdust or any other

medium for preventing the rising of dust during the sweeping of uncarpeted

floors. The brush itself is circular in shape and is surmounted by a metal

reservoir in which is carried a disinfecting fluid, "stourolene" by name. In the ordinary way the brush is used rigid,

but if the dust begins to rise the pressing of a peg in the handle allows the

brush to revolve and at the same time charges it with the fluid.

Unexpected.

It was the first time Mr. Dismal Dawson had ever been met at the door by a woman in bloomers, and it rattled him a bit. "Lady," said he, "you see before you the wreck of a man who was at one time as much of a gentleman as your-self."--Cincinnati Tribune.

OCEAN CITY. A Moral Seaside Resort. Not Excelled as a Health Restorer. Finest facilities for FISHING, Sailing, gunning, etc.

The Liquor Traffic and its kindred evils are forever prohibited by deed. Every lover of Temperance and Morals should combine to help us.

Water Supply, Railroad, Steamboats And all other Modern Conveniences.

Thousands of lots for sale at various prices, located in all parts of the city. For information apply to E. B. LAKE, Secretary, Ocean City Asso'n, SIXTH ST. & ASBURY AVE.

Henrietta Purcell, a little girl, died a few days ago in a New York hospital from excessive rope skipping. On the day of her becoming ill she had jumped 129 times, and after a few minutes' breathing 132 times without a trip.